Wednesday, August 4, 2010

pretty dead doll

I'm going to miss two events that I really want to go to. And I was so disappointed that I decided... the only thing that could make up for missing them (and I refuse to say what they are, even to myself) is being stuck in a hospital, preferably the psychiatric kind. Sure, I must be pretty stupid to want such a thing, but at least I can admit it. So. I have a plan. Neither my psychiatrist or therapist will be here for the next 2-3 weeks, so my parents won't be able to contact them, and what else can they do but bring me to the hospital? Because I'm not going to eat or sleep and hardly talk until they put me somewhere. I'll lock myself in my room and talk to my imaginary friends and my dolls and ignore my parents annoying me all day long.

All of my dolls are kind of insane. They're in The Asylum for Wayward Victorian Girls, like me. Evelyn has psychotic depression (she always looks sad). Emily is bulimic (at first her bloomers kept falling down, now they stay up, which indicates something's wrong with her diet) and her parents didn't want her. Emily's little sister, Lola, is also unwanted. And Alyssa is bipolar (every time I look at her, she has a different expression) and a copycat anorexic (her bloomers fall down every ten seconds, but only after she realized Emily had a problem). Last night I sang a few songs to them and read them chapter one of Alice's Adventures in Wonderland. They're eagerly awaiting chapter two tonight.

I'll admit, I've had a lifelong fear of dolls. When I was a child, I would only have Barbies and smaller dolls, but the collectible ones like the ones I have now terrified me. They still do, but only at night. The first night I had them with me, I had to face them away from me and keep turning on the light to see if they moved, and I was scared they would notice I'm afraid. I was certain they would kill me... I'm slowly improving, though. Watching scary doll videos on YouTube probably doesn't help. Like Robert the Doll. That was frightening...

In any case, my best friend and I are making a video with our dolls. We're almost done our first one, and we quite like it. It has the song Lullaby by Midnight Syndicate, which is very creepy (especially at the end), and once we're finished we'll put it on YouTube and nobody will care because nobody looks at homemade creepy doll videos. Except us. Eventually we might make a video with the song Haunted Nursery by Midnight Syndicate, also very creepy. Especially because of the baby crying, and I'm kind of scared of babies. It seems like a lot of people are afraid of dolls, my best friend and I included, but I don't seem to know anybody else who agrees.

And I'm pretty sure my antidepressants stopped working... My self-hatred is coming back, when awhile ago I didn't really care... But along with self-loathing comes determination, which I will use to my advantage and I will be as close to my version of perfect as I can possibly get, no matter the cost... I'm going to stop taking my antipsychotics. Sick of them. I kind of want to hallucinate, and if that's all that is fucking stopping me, then screw them. Medication is free here anyway (at least the ones given by your doctors) so it's not like anything's going to waste.

Oh. Yes. I pre-ordered The Asylum for Wayward Victorian Girls by Emilie Autumn. I've wanted that book for nearly a year and my parents wouldn't let me get it. And I'm almost glad I waited, because Emilie Autumn is going to sign every single copy shipped to North America. I'm so happy about that! I love her so much, she's so devoted to her muffins. It's going to ship in October...

And now my parents want to talk to me, which is never good news.


  1. What exactly do you hope to acheieve by being put in a hospital? More attention? That is shockingly childish, manipulative behaviour.

  2. I find this to be one of the most interesting blogs I have read yet . . . the part about the dolls scared me.

  3. She doesn't want attention. Oh, look at me...Okay, so I don't know this girl. Attention just leads to more problems.