I don’t know why I hit my face.
It’s probably just a way to fend
off the belting from my father.
I got tired of it and decided
I could do as good a job of
hurting myself. I need no help.
I don’t obey and I’m punished.
But I have no control of my
actions or of the voices I hear.
I fake attacks, seizures,
because they leave me alone.
The first time I had a seizure
they worried for me. It was the first
time I ever felt loved by someone.
I don’t get beltings anymore.
But I can’t stop beating on
my own face. It’s part of my illness.
