~A Butterfly In A Windstorm~

I'm not exactly sure how long it has been since my miscarriage. 2 weeks, 3 weeks, maybe 4 weeks. Sense of time has become lost to me. I feel empty still. The anti-depressants aren't working, but maybe because I don't want them to. I like the feeling of sorrow and not wanting to live anymore. It's a wonder how I can feel anything at all anymore. I've gone through so much. It seems as if I have  been to hell and back. Maybe that's why I keep seeing and hearing demons speak to me. The cutting has subsided. The want for it still lingers and wraps me in a cacoon. I crave the pain and to see the blood dripping at my fingertips. I cry and beg to go home. Home used to be the place I grew up. No longer is that so. I have come to realize that home is a place of true comfort and of undeniable peace within yourself and all around you. Home is with our Savior. Sitting by the Lord's side for all eternity. I love God and I would never deny thy. So, why does this evil still envelope me and cling? Evil is all around me. I have to find a way out before the end. My life is my suffocation. A slow and tormenting death. I need a new begginning.