Status Updates From Girl, Interrupted

My hunger my thirst my loneliness and boredom and fear were all weapons aimed at my enemy, the world. They don’t matter a whir to them world, and they tormented me but I got a gruesome satisfaction from my sufferings. They proved my existence.

The fifty aspirin but I’ve explained them. They were metaphorical. I wanted to get rid of a certain aspect of my character.

I felt good I wasn’t dead, yet something was dead. Perhaps I’d managed my peculiar objective of partial suicide.

Actually it was only part of myself I wanted to kill: the part that wanted to kill healed that dragged me into the suicide debate.