I need to get these emotions out before its too late. I have no body to talk to so here I am blogging it out.
A lot and very little has happened since my last post. I accidently missed a couple days taking my celexa. So one day I took two and tried to get them caught up. But I think I fucked myself over because my mind doesn’t feel right.I’m having so much trouble finding myself and having an even harder time finding my place in the world.
I’ve been in my room talking to these walls and the other day they started talking back. They told me my family doesn’t love me any more. That my body is ugly. My face is distorted and this feeling of hate and anger will never go away. They told me I was never going to amount to any thing, I am a waste of space on this earth.
The walls made me think about all the things I hated about the people around me.The walls told me dig out my old box cutter and go to town on my body. But fortunately I could not find it. Unfortunately I did find an old set of throwing knives.I don’t know why hurting myself helps but it really does. When I see the red seeping through to the top and spilling out over my skin its almost like a Zen feeling. Like okay I’m still human.I feel so empty inside. I feel like I’m going to burst into vapor and just simple no longer exist any more. My room would magically disappear along with all remembrance of me. And my mother would wake up one morning and think “of yea I did have a daughter didn’t I ? ”
Tonight I was scared. It took me an extra long time to peel myself off the bathroom floor. I was so afraid I was going to die there tonight. I sat there tears streaming down my face, and dripping onto my chest, holding a towel in my hand to catch the snot pouring out of my nose. I starred at the bathroom door for what seemed like a long time. I decided to leave it open because I felt that if it were shut it might never be open again. I have to chant to myself ” just breath just breath “.. I wonder some times how long it would take some body to find me. If it were just left up to my mother it would take at least a week because that’s about how long its been since I’ve heard from her.
I wonder would I smell really bad, would I be swollen, or would I look skinnier, would I look peaceful, or burdened, would there be a lot of blood or just enough.Would my eyes be open, would my lips be slightly parted.
I texted Matty and told him I needed help ect.. Then I felt bad for bringing a child into my problems. I don’t want him to worry. Or to think i’m crazy or to be embarrassed of me.
But I had to tell some one! … you hear those stories about suicides and the parents are just in shock claiming they had no idea.. that their child had never said anything..
I’ve been telling the people around me for a long time.. I feel like they think its a joke.
Tonight the devil told me to slit my throat.. I cut my hand instead..I will not die on his terms because I do not want to spend an eternity with him. And sadly that is the ONLY reason.. I need to go out and find another reason to want to live because how much longer am I going to be afraid of fire when I’ve been playing with it for years.
I am so incompatible with this world ..