Want to die. Don’t know why. Misery, pain and despair speak of the helplessness and hopelessness that has rendered me isolated and unaware of any danger signals. Numb, I lay on the gurney with electrodes secured to my head as they wait to be fed with the juice to reboot my brain. This is the twenty-fourth time. I hope to wake up dead. The IV weeps to replenish tears as a mask is pressed to my face. Take a deep breath, cascade of tingles… Implode to that secretive place… A few days later I feel even worse, like saturation in sin to rot within as I plumb the depths I’m just a breath away… Guilt, self-hatred, embarrassment, shame, Is “One Way to Hell” the name of this game? I return to the hospital to see my psychiatrist who’s as committed to me as I am now to the psych ward. Third time in, take it on the chin. Familiar is this padded cell, shades of hell. Strip down naked, all belongings taken. Don the blue gown that re...
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