Ugh life sucks so much... but that doesn't mean that I hate life...I'm just tired of life. It drains me a little more everyday. I can't handle it. A little more and I really might go off myself somehow. But the thing is... I don't want to die. The little pleasures I really do enjoy... but the pain is in control most of the time. I'm tired of the never ending mood swings, my mom's bitchiness, the pain, the hurt, the tears, the worthlessness, the self-injury, the seemingly never ending cycle of slight happiness followed by the hate and pain. And not hate for anyone else...the hate for myself. I hate myself. Everything bad is my fault. So I have to do something to make up for the pain that those I love feel. Sometimes I don't eat, but usually I just slice myself up.
I wish I could talk to my therapist about this.
Oh yeah, I'm in thearapy now. Today was my first session. I did get a lot out, but I can't tell her about the most prominent thing right now, the cutting. She said basic stuff she couldn't tell my mom about, but she can tell her about if I'm hurting myself, so I'm out fucking luck there. But I did get some of the steam out, and some tears. God I hate crying. But at least my eyes look green now. Of course I feel bad again now, cuz my mom can't go fucking 5 minutes without bitching about something, this time the Blockbuster movies we still haven't rreturned. "Why don't you ever help me remember?!" Good God mom, I would think you would remember, since you sleep about 12 hours a day, don't work, just sit around every GD day, while I barely sleep, have school, and many other things to do. God I'm really tired too. I wish I could sleep. But I'm staying up. I have to. I'm worried about Jef... I want to make sure he's going to be ok. Plus when I sleep the memories I try to not let out escape. Then I get depressed again. Well, even more depressed than I was, since depressed is my habitual emotion.
I'm getting quiet again... I worry when I'm like this cuz even I'm not sure of what I might do. I got like this back in January, when I started cutting regularly again. When I'm like this I think too much... too much about hurt and death. My death. Yes, I'm slightly suicidial. That I did not tell to my therapist. I can't, I'll be committed. But I doubt I'll do anything, unless things get progressivly worse. Then I might get that gun of Mike's and put it to some long awaited use. Or see how deep that razor can go. Or see how many pain killers it will take to permantly kill my pain... But for now I think I'm going to be alright. I won't kill myself just yet.
About Me
- g.deadcatluver
- First of I'm not telling you my age(you can see it anyway so why waste my time?). But I will tell you that I'm a teenager and I'm far away from graduation. I live in a small(ahem *hick*) town called Sasser in Ga. I used to live in a city called Columbus. What I really like to do is read. But Ive been reading since I was 3, so that explains something. I also use to have 7 cats,one of whom use to be psychotic. Want to know why I think this? Because, not only when you use to pet her did she growl at you, she hissed at herself, her food-bowl, and the toilet. I no longer have any of these cats. Thanks Mike, you son of a bitch. I also have a brother who is 1 1/2 years younger than me who I want to murder sometimes. In fact I want to hurt someone usually once a day, but I settle for myself. One thing you really need to know about me is that I'm a really nice person, just with a lot of problems. This is the only place on the internet I can be 100% me, since some of the things I say the people in my life don't need to know. Please don't judge me. Or do. I don't care.
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