Loud Noises Just make it stop, please, let it stop. I'm spending every minute awake wishing I was asleep, and every minute asleep in complete terror. Every breath seems to drain more life from me than the last. I would take or do anything to make it stop. I would sell my soul to the devil himself if I could. I can't take this anymore, I'm giving up. I was never a normal child growing up. Well I was always told by my superiors that I wasn't a normal child. My parents always telling me how unruly of a child I was. I was described as a ball of hell fire, who spat at the rules like they didn't apply to me. I was diagnosed With every hyperactive disorder the doctors had, Bipolar, ADD, ADHD. I felt like I wasn't wanted by my family. It was emptying and caused me to lash out more. Instead of just giving me attention they just shoved medication onto me. When I wasn't drugged out I was making sure my hatred for my parents was well heard. Some of the medication I was on made me feel like I was outside of my body watching someone else live my life. I never interacted with other children because my intelligence dwindled. I was always in a fog, It took more energy to communicate with others than any kid should have to. It was like trying to swim through high tide just trying to talk to others. My mind strained, my muscles ached, all tastes and smells were dulled down. I stopped enjoying food and stopped eating. I lost interest in sports, especially since I could barely pull myself out of bed in the morning, let around use physical energy to kick a ball around. No one noticed what was happening because we had just recently moved to a new town. I had no friends and it was really hard to make friends when it hurt to communicate. I thought I was at rock bottom. Happiness seemed out of reach. My family started to catch on to what was happening with me. They thought the solution was a new medication. I definitely was not on board for another medication, and I made sure I was animate about it. My parents of course ignored me like I was our dog begging for scraps from that nights dinner. Much to my surprise the new medicine they put me on Paxil started off wonderfully. I was getting full nights of sleep, and I never woke up angry. Every morning on that medication was like a clean slate in which I could start over. I started making friends in school again. Cullen, and CJ were my two best friends when I was put on this new medication. They were considered part of the popular group in my school and I was excited to be finally considered popular. I was living the high life, I felt on top of the world and nothing can knock me down. Unfortunately With all meteoric rises comes a steep drop off. I could only go down from how high I was. It started off small, I didn't even notice it at first. I figured it was my subconscious telling me to do things and I would do them. I would take snacks to my bedroom and eat them. I would then hide the wrappers and pretend I never did it (it wasn't allowed in my house). My parents would find the wrappers and question and for some reason I would lie straight to their faces. I figured my subconscious had a reason for doing this. Unfortunately my family stopped trusting me because I was lying all the time. They wouldn't let me go out with my friends or give me any other liberties a kid should have. I lived in a cul-de-sac growing up so staring out my window watching my friends play games wasn't a good thing. I started to deteriorate, my lying started spreading to my friends. When my parents did let me out of the house to hang out with my friends I would steal from them, tell them outrageous stories to get out of it and get in physical fights with them. When I had to defend myself I said I heard them say something mean to me when nothing was said to me at all, I just randomly attacked this kid. I still remember the fight like it was yesterday. We were playing kickball in the cul-de-sac and I was up to bat. I'm still not sure to this day if that's the correct terminology, maybe up to kick? Regardless of wither it's up to kick or up to bat the fight still happened. My friend Cullen was playing first base at the time. As I Get ready for the pitch I look over at him and he doesn't seem to be paying attention, like he was in another world. I figured I would aim towards his direction with my kick. Here comes the pitch, it comes wobbling in I can see the spin the pitcher tried to put on the ball. I can see the dust and gravel fly up after each bounce. I kick the ball right in the center pulling it towards first base. Feeling the recoil of the ball off of your foot is one of my favorite feelings especially when you hit it just right. I hit it hard, real hard, It was line drive going straight at Cullen who still wasn't paying attention. I was sprinting towards first base, I went into tunnel vision trying to get there as fast as I could. All I heard was the loud pang like the ball hitting someone, after sliding into first base I hear everyone cheering. I figured it was for me but I was slightly confused because I only got to first base. I get up and look and see Cullen sprawled out on the ground with the ball in his hands. Everyone was praising him for the catch he just made so I was a little upset, but then I saw Cullen stand up and look at me and call me a bitch and wink. I didn't notice at the time the voice didn't sound like his but I just filled with anger. My hands started shaking, and my legs started moving before my mind did. I was on top of him before I knew what happened. All I smelled was blood as drops were hitting my face, I was blind with fury. All I know is it took three people to pull me off of him. I finally realized what had just happened. I look down at Cullen and he was unrecognizable. His face smeared red, his right eyelid and lip so swollen his facial features were obscured. It smelled like feces, I actually scared him so much he crapped himself. I was so ashamed of what happened I ran home in shock. When I got home My mom saw the blood all over my face, hands and clothes. I told her that I got into a fight with another kid but it was self defense. There I go again with the lying, I had no control anymore. I finally lost it. My parents obviously figured out what actually happened when his parents called mine. Apparently no one knew why I attacked him, everyone said nothing was said to me and then I charged him. This is when I realized that I was hearing voices, when I finally noticed this it became more prominent. The sounds of the voices changed, there were more angry, condescending, loud voices. Voices of different genders and ages swarmed my head telling me to do things I shouldn't. I would do them to see if they would stop but then they just got more prominent. I was losing my mind, and everyone in school was staring at me because of the stories circulating about the fight. I felt exiled, completely alone, left with the voices yelling at me. This couldn't be happening to me, everything was going so well for me and now imp even worse off than before. I started talking to myself in the back of class because of my voices getting me even more ridicule. I can't take this much longer. Just make it stop, please, let it stop. I'm spending every minute awake wishing I was asleep, and every minute asleep in complete terror. Every breath seems to drain more life from me than the last. I would take or do anything to make it stop. I would sell my soul to the devil himself if I could. I can't take this anymore, I'm giving up. These were my last thoughts before I attempted suicide. I woke up at Two in the morning and I was in a pool of my own sweat and the voices were louder than ever. I needed it to stop, I found some prescription drugs in my families medicine cabinet and I took the whole bottle and waited. I remembered nothing from then on, I don't remember my family screaming as they walk in to me foaming at the mouth at 5 am completely unconscious and seizing, not even the ambulance lights and everyone in the neighborhood staring while I was put on a stretcher and pulled onto the ambulance. All I remember is waking up to what I thought was the next morning, the first thing I notice is how bright my surroundings are. I thought I had died, but then I heard the beeping then I felt the pain in my stomach. I instantly got angry and started writhing in my bed. My wrist were bound to the bed and the searing pain from moving prevented me from moving at all. I start to process my surroundings and realize that I am indeed in a hospital. I have wires attached all over me and the room smells so sanitized to the point it was obnoxious. I notice my Mom sleeping by the window. The struggling I just did alerts the nurses to come check on waking my mom in the process. The rest that came was really hazy and I don't remember most of it. All I figured out was that I was out for 4 and a half days before I woke, I then spent 1 week in hospital recuperating till the doctors said it was safe for me to leave. They asked me a lot of questions and I told them about the voices and the doctors came to the conclusion that my voices were a side effect of the Paxil. Instead of signing more medication to me they decided to assign my whole family to group therapy and myself to solo therapy to figure out what was the best option for me. I learned a lot from therapy and it solved more problems with my family than medicine ever did. I did end up having to take a medication but all I had to take was a blood pressure medication that I still take till this day. Talking with a mediator helped me a lot and made me realize that everyone is perfect just the way they are and shouldn't be put on any personality changing medications unless they have a danger of physically harming someone. Don't try to change someone because it's inconvenient to you.