Flattery Will Get You Nowhere With Me

Hello, Loves.

Flattery.

I hate it.

I don't even know if they're just teasing me or not anymore. People have said that they love me more times than I feel comfortable with. Maybe it's because of the fact that I rarely go out of my way to be around people. Perhaps I have changed since the last time I was around too many people? Have I become attractive? Or is it just horrible teasing, people trying to make me snap.

At the hospital people kept telling me they liked me. One girl wouldn't shut up about how "in love" with me she was. I don't feel comfortable with it. I hate it. I was not raised to be flattered. So That's why I'm afraid of it. 

One of my best friends betrayed me this summer. Several months ago he began asking me strange questions. Then in July he said that we should meet up. Not two days later he told me he wanted to fuck me in the ass. he even asked for lewd pictures of me. I felt so horrible. I know he wasn't just being funny. He kept telling me that it wouldn't count because I'm gay. I know that the only reason he did that was because he'd never gotten the chance to do something like that before, he wanted experience, and that I was emotionally damaged at that time. My mother had just left. And he took advantage of me.

I have lost the ability to love.

Everyone whom I've ever loved has hurt me in some way, except for my father and step mum. I didn't love those people at the hospital, nor did I love the idiot who harassed me in July. But I feel uncomfortable with it. If someone truly did fall in love with me, I would never love them back. 

I feel sick. The tea only made me feel sicker. I don't know what to do.

Sincerely,

Lady Grey

Lady Grey

Good evening, ladies and gentlemen

I feel that it is time for me to paint a picture. Of whom, you ask? Why, of myself. I feel that I could gain better understanding from whoever reads this If they can put a name to a face.
So here we go.

Name: Lady Grey (like the tea)

Age: 17

Date of Birth: February 4th, 1841

Family: Father, Step Mother, Sister, Brother, Mother (Whereabouts Unknown)

Religion: Wicca

Sexual Orientation: Lesbian

Hobbies: Drawing, Writing Music, Playing the Violin, Reading, Writing, Poetry, Counting Calories, Manga, Anime,

Mental Illness: PTSD, Cutting, Impulsive Behaviour, Anger, Depression, Suicidal Thoughts, Homicidal Thoughts

Hospitalizations: Twice, Holly Hill Mental Hospital

Medications: 2mg Risperdal, 1mg Cogentin, 100mg Lamictal daily

Notable Fears: Men, Human Contact, Sex, Childbirth, Pregnancy, Mother, Abuse, Hospitals, Spiders, Doctors, People in General, The Future

Physical Illness: None

Country of Origin: Unknown

Other: Was verbally abused by mother for sixteen years. Appears to be a small child, but is a young woman in actuality. Severe fear of men. Could snap at any moment.

Welcome to my world, Ladies and Gentlemen. I am Lady Grey

An Introduction

I do not believe I am mad. 

But what is your definition of "mad"? I cannot count how many times I have asked myself this. For what is madness? What is insanity? Are they perhaps the same thing? Every official definition I've ever read has turned out different from the rest. So I could not tell you or I, even if I wanted to.

But what if I suddenly stopped hiding my true self under the many layers of lies, and let it all out at once. Perhaps then I would be considered mad? Would I end up hurting myself? Of course. Would I end up hurting others, physically and mentally? Of course. Would I tear apart the lives of both myself and those around me? Of course. Would I be looked upon as one who has "gone mad"? Most definitely.

Of course, most people I've ever gotten close to already consider me to be "mad" or "crazy". And they haven't even seen half of what I am capable of! Or is it that they simply do not like me? My hair, my shoes, my voice, anything! But they've all seen me scream. They've all seen me attempt to jump off a second story indoor balcony. They've seen me laugh at nothing. But that's not even half of it. 

Do I dream of hurting myself? Every day. Do I dream of hurting others? Every day. For I can see it playing within my mind and before my very eyes every time I look at someone. Sometimes (and by that I mean quite often) I imagine myself strangling whomever happens to be standing innocently in front of me, paying me absolutely no mind whatsoever. And then I look upon myself as a sickeningly horrible person. It's scary, even to me.

So as you can tell, it's best that I keep my mouth shut and my body still. It hurts to bury these feelings into the back of my mind, for they always come out at random intervals (rather inappropriately might I add). I refuse to cry on the outside. I cry on the inside. I refuse to hurt myself. I hurt myself on the inside. I hide this supposed madness inside me. It tears me apart, yes, but it keeps those around me safe.

But what about me? Am I safe? of course not. No words can possibly explain how I feel. At this very moment, I feel the need to hurt myself. But will I? No. For I cannot risk my feelings being let out into the open.

For a woman such as myself is meant to be seen, and not heard. At least, that is what I've been told.

Love,

You're very own,

Lady Grey.