3 days ago, I was admitted to the hospital for a near fatal overdose. My blood sugar was 40. I couldn't talk. Dying felt good. Just like last time. I sliced up my wrists like a thanksgiving turkey the next day. Now my left arm is appalling and it's starting to get hot in SF. Now I can't sleep for more than two hours and I'm antsy as hell. I've been up all night. Voices in my head tell me I'm fat, worthless and dumb. My 19th birthday is approaching in less than 2 weeks and my wrists won't be healed for the tattoo of lunar phases in time, I'm having some delusions of I guess I would say persecution again. I'm heavily medicated too, and nothing. My life will ever be mine.