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God Forsaken

What is perfection when it slowly withers away form us?

Created on 2008-08-22 18:32:14 (#16420036), last updated 2009-09-06

724 comments received, 1,101 comments posted

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93 Journal Entries, 0 Tags, 0 Memories, 10+ ScrapBook Files, 0 Virtual Gifts, 15 Userpics

Basic Info

Name:	Mikaru
Birthdate:	1984-12-08
Location:	Tokyo, Japan

Contact:

mysticpinkexplosion@rock.com

Bio

[[SWeeT ReD CHeRRY BLoSSoM TRee]]

I wear this angel's crown, to cover up my devil's frown.

[[Patient Information]]

Name:Mikaru
Gender:Male
Birthday:8th December, 1984
Age:24
Nationality:Japanese
Height:5ft7
Weight:51kg
Character:Narcissistic, stubborn, emotional

[[Patient Disorders]]

NARCISSISTIC PERSONALITY DISORDER
BODY DYSMORPHIC DISORDER (BDD) Developing into -
SOCIAL PHOBIA , MAJOR DEPRESSIVE DISORDER

Recently, upon entering Bakuzen, Mikaru has suffered a month long coma where he did crash for a small amount of time. This coma was due to the OD on Venlafaxine and Paracetamol, administered by another, as he was too weak.

Broken nose also, but this has been corrected.

[[History]]

Since birth, Mikaru was always praised on how cute, beautiful, pretty he was... and as he grew through childhood the comments on his appearance and personality continued. As an only child, Mikaru's parents worshiped him, spoiled him and gave him all and everything he ever wanted.

Mikaru's Father died when he was three, therefore he had little but a few memories of him. His Mother doted on him however: he was her 'Little Angel', her 'Handsome Little Prince'... he was her world. After his Father died (and when people found out he was without a Dad) he found he got more and more compliments and love from others: Mikaru thrived on this and not a day went by when he heard nothing. Mikaru knew how amazing he was, how perfect he was growing up to be... and he remained like this for years.

Slowly, he became more and more obsessed with how he looked. Often, he would spend two or three hours in front of the mirror just to ensure each strand of hair was perfect (for example). Some weeks, he would do something really noticeable and really different as he knew he would get compliments for it. He was admired by everyone (or so he thought) but this painstaking hard work on his appearance came crashing down upon his head when he hit the later years of high school.

Things were looking good for him, or so he had thought. Teachers liked him and praised him every step of the way, he was popular, the entire female population of the school liked him and still, his Mother loved him through and through. One tragic day though, when Mikaru returned home after staying late to finish an art project at school, he came home to find the house had been broken into and upon entering, he prayed that his mother had not come home yet. He searched the entire ground floor before making his way up the stairs, a trail of blood catching his eye. Panic overtaking him, he followed the trail to his bedroom, opening the door to be confronted with the site of his Mother, battered, bruised, covered in blood and with her clothes torn - she had been raped and then stabbed and left to die.

Who would praise him? Who would look after him? Who would tell him he was beautiful, perfect, amazing?

[[Unhearted - Automatic Loveletter]]

Photograph each day so we can live forever,
Sit in the light to make the dark a little darker
and I dance to move only you and I fight to kiss and make up.
I scream for some silence.
I laugh to laugh for once, not there so you notice I'm gone
and I breathe 'cos its neccessary
and I sigh when I see the moon.
I dream to make sleep less boring, until there was you
and I feel in the absence of heart and I plug my eyes to cry.
I'm a hopeless romantic and kicking the habit but all hearts have darts...

Sweet red cherry blossom tree that lives in both you and me.
You marked your name but I can see, its not on me.
So I've shamelessly gone and made myself come undone.
Heavy hangs my head when I'm unhearted.

I wear this angels crown to cover up my devils frown
and upon my broken chest lay a struggle between loneliness
and things that are out of place like my head in outer space
and the carpet you walked on the ceiling that cries please don't walk away...

Bellow it out with all the breath in my lungs.
Apologize for all that I've done.
You did a number on me and a fantastic job.
In the scheme of all things we never felt.
When your hearts been breached and your guards been let down;
You've rotten and spoiled me into the ground
and a good mess forgives all the rest we allow

Sweet red cherry blossom tree that lives in both you and me...

[[Likes]]

Crowns, gold, black

[[Dislikes]]

Everyone - patients and staff alike

★D I S C L A I M E R
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