I showed my bf (who doesn’t know EA) the FLAG music video and he liked it because “it is so Suckerpunch”.
“I’m just really depressed, and I can’t function anymore. I can’t do anything, and I can’t make the depression go away.”
“Did anything happen to trigger your depression?”
“No, nothing. I just.. got sad. I can’t go back home because I’ll just lie in bed all day and cry. Nothing has helped, and the doctor’s don’t know what else to do. I want to get the treatment — People say I don’t want to get better, but I really do. I wasn’t always like this, you know. I actually used to be a really happy person. I don’t want to be this way…”
Chloe began to cry.
Chloe and I didn’t sleep that night. We talked about everything from what kind of music I made, to the goth clubs in L.A. that she used to go to when she had been happy. I told her that I always ended up dancing on a table, and she told me that she always ended up taking off her shirt. At four o’clock, the nurses came to take her to ECT. Chloe got out of bed, and so did I. She was shaking. I held her tightly and told her that I loved her. She told me she loved me too.
Once Chloe was gone, I tore the corner of a letter ito the shape of a heart, because, frankly, that’s the sort of thing girls never grow out of when it comes to each other and, on the heart, I wrote her a note. I told her that, soon, when we got out of here, she was to go directly to the club we had talked about. There I wrote, she would find me dancing on a table, and she’d better be prepared to take her shirt off.
I never saw Chloe again.-Exert from the journal of Emilie Autumn.
