Death & Co.


I have been released from hospital following admission on Wednesday evening for treatment of prescription drug overdose and various self-inflicted injuries.

I swam in the five rivers of Hades and was so close to Death that I could feel it and taste it. Being on the verge of death was surprisingly scary, I remember thinking “Damn, I expected it to be more comfortable than this! Oh well.” I could feel that my organs were drifting off too, like when you put your computer on sleep mode: not totally turned off, not completely shut down, but dormant. All I could think about was my present state and what was happening to my body as I moved towards Death. I did not think of my family or friends or of anyone at all except for my own body. I remember being grateful that, while I had no control of my body, I could still form thoughts and could still listen to my brain. Then the hospital went silent and there were no sounds anywhere at all, apart from the sounds of my thoughts.

And the next thing I know is that I was in a different bed, in a different room, on a different ward, being monitored by two security guards. And then I went to another ward but every time I tried to walk I’d collapse so I don’t know how I got there in the end but I remember the nurses were pissed off that I kept passing out every time we took a step. But somehow I got to the new ward and I was given a chair because there were no beds and I know I fell off the chair a lot because every time I regained consciousness I was lying on the floor. And then I’m not sure what happened. It was very, very noisy. I tried to discharge myself a few times. I ran away and the police brought me back. I had to be escorted to the bathroom and to the water fountain and to the smoking area.

I don’t really know what happened. But I’m back at my mother’s. My brother’s bedroom where I sleep looks like a crime scene. Blood splatters on the wall. Must paint over it before he returns from university. All bed clothes ruined. So much blood it soaked through the covers and the duvet and out the other side to the sheets. Fucksake. I’m tired now. I’m tired.


  1. I didn’t get to read this until just now (you know why) but I am, mutually, so glad you are still here and please stay and please keep writing. You’re beautiful, inside and out. Hugs for you, too, from across “the pond.” Also, sidenote, where is this dark artwork you keep posting from/who is it by? It’s stunning.

  2. Hold on. Soon the days will become months and the months will become years and it will all feel like a dream that you’ve awoken from. Your honesty is beautiful. Stay strong.

  3. I read your post hours ago and can’t stop thinking about you. From across an ocean and miles and miles of earth, someone you don’t know wants you to keep fighting.

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