Everyone knows there is something wrong with me. And as I’ve gotten older the sickness has gotten worse and worse and suddenly I’ve been rendered unable to mask it anymore. Ever since I was a kid a voice that didn’t feel like mine has always controlled me. It hates me so very much. When I freak out over what I perceive as a dirty, it isn’t me freaking out, it’s the voice in my head telling me that cleansing myself is top priority. I can’t act like a regular teenager. I can’t have fun. Not without discomfort and disassociation. I wish I could be normal but the voice doesn’t want me too. It wants me to suffer for as long as I live. I want to change, but it’s too afraid. And I guess I am too. Without the voice, am I safe? Without the voice, am I anything at all? Has it become such a big part of me that it is me? If it disappears, do I exist? Or am I simply a vessel for its presence. Maybe medication will get rid of it forever. I hope so.