FuriousNomad

I regret everything that happened then. I feel like a victim of a tornado. How everything happened:

It started with my weaved basket. I started to tear it apart. Then to my

Sphinx book. Ripping out the pages. I loved that book. I threw the

statue he gave me and it left a big dent in the wall. The next victim

was the giant stuffed lion that he gave me. I gutted it and made a deep

gash in my thumb. I didn't realize it till I saw the blood. I didn't

stop to look, I just kept going and let the blood spill everywhere.

That's when pure insanity set in. After I felt I was done gutting the

stuffed animal, I looked at the outlet and my exacto-knife and smiled

manically. But the thought dropped as quickly as it went and I went on

to say that the stuffing would be enough food for me while I was in my

room. I took a piece and chewed it, but I spit it out after a while. I

looked at my watercolor portrait. I said it needed revision. So I

ripped it out of the frame and got blood on it. I then flung out my

drawer, looking for a pen and found my bright red lipstick. I marked

out the eyes, then the mouth, and started to spread it all over the

face. I then started chanted, "You made a mistake and that's okay." I

don't know where that came from. I figured it might be the mistake I

made that hurt (name removed), but I dunno. I wasn't thinking about that. I

wasn't thinking about anything. I then painted elevens on my face with

my liquid eyeliner. I took the dried roses he gave me and put them on

the picture. I put one of the buds in my mouth and started to chew it.

I laughed and said "It tastes just like him." I spit it out and stood

up and let my spit dribble on the picture. I started to paint the

shoulder with the liquid eyeliner.

My dad came to the door, wanting me to open it. He wanted to know if I was okay and if I damaged anything. I was totally gone. I told him the door wouldn't open and I

didn't know why. I don't remember what else I said to him. I just know

my voice sounded like everything was okay. After he left me alone, I

said I made a mess and I started to clean it up. It made a huge mess.

He came back. I told him to just let me clean up my room and then I'd

open the door. After I was all done, I just sat on my bed, staring off

into space. My mom came home. I was still kind of gone, but I spoke

calmly. My mom asked if I was "on something". I told her what happened

and cried a little bit more. I told her what I did too. I didn't want

to tell her at all, afraid of what she would think of me. She pulled it

out of me.

After all that, I just got depressed. I talked a bit still.
Showing a smile every once in a while. I was exhausted from

letting everything out. I mean...everything. It wasn't about Justin. It

just took this to let it all out. I let it all out. So much must have

been built up. That was the most severe psychotic break I've ever

experienced and through a fuzzy vision, I experienced it all,

completely out of control, occasionally realizing what was happening,

but not able to reach for the ledge.

It was terrifying. It's terrifying to think of. It felt good to get out frustration, but God,

it was so disturbing what that all led to. I destroyed all this stuff.

I got sad about my book. I wanted to read it more. I got sad about my

lion. I liked laying on it and having its arm around me. My mom is so

upset that I destroyed my painting. So much completely disheveled. I'm

embarrassed and scared that something so dark was inside me.

I'm gonna trying and salvage my stuffed lion at the very least. It might be

therapeutic. My mom has been looking up support groups I could go to.

I'm a little bit jittery. Mostly depressed throughout the day for

obvious reasons, but I'm perfectly able to crack a smile, make a joke,

and talk. Just not to (name removed). Not at this point. It might not be the

end of our relationship and I'm trying not to think about it. I'm just

trying to think about how to feel better but I can't stop thinking

about him. I keep thinking good thoughts about him and good memories. I

try not to do that either because it hurts.

All I know it that horrible experience terrified me. I don't know what to think about it. I'm just so scared..