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Are you fucking kidding me? I find a school that I’m really interested in and you won’t even fucking take me to see it because it’s expensive? Seriously? You stupid fucking cunt. You tell me how important college is and how much you want me to be in school and now you won’t even let me look at this one? You’re so fucking stupid. Why can’t you support me wanting to go to a fucking school that I’m interested in? Fuck you. Bitch.
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I can’t fucking do it. I’m going to fail junior year. I just. I really really can’t. And I can’t deal with this. And I can’t fucking do anything. I hate this. I just want to start over. Start everything over. I turn my life into such shit for no reason. But I just can’t fucking deal with this. I’m so pathetic. I just can’t fucking do this. I really really can’t.
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My mom is being such a big cunt hurt bitch right now. She’s such an idiot.
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Y’know what makes me happy? This conversation. “Guess what.” “What?” “I quit smoking.” Do you know how great that is? I’ve heard that from three people I care about. And it makes me really happy. I don’t care what the reason is. I hate it. And it makes me happy when people I care about stop. And don’t even be like “But bitch, you drink, and it’s the same concept.” Cause I hate alcohol. I hate all of it. It’s all fucking escapism. In my mind, at least. And that’s the way I used booze. Fuck, it’s the way I used SI too. It’s all the same. It’s all escapist behavior. And then one day you can’t use escapism. So instead you end it all. Dead. Gone. Forever. Fuck everything. I wish I could start over. I wish I could go back to sixth grade. And then fucking stay that way. I don’t want to be the crazy bitch that cuts herself. I don’t want to be the idiot that drinks away her feelings. I don’t want to be the one that sleeps for 30 minutes every night. And cries until she can’t see right. I don’t want to do that anymore. I want clean skin. I want good grades. I want to start over. Go back to the beginning and actually live my life the right way instead of fucking myself up for good. Maybe make sure that I’m stronger the second time around since I wasn’t good enough the first time.
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I can not fucking believe you. You cursed fucking woman. What the hell is wrong with you? Yes, you watched my cry for three days straight. But did you not notice a single fucking difference on Wednesday? Did you not fucking see how happy I became? I don’t care that he left me because he came back. And I never fucking do this. Do you know how many guys I could have gotten back with if I’d have said yes when they came crawling back to me? All of them. But I didn’t. Because they weren’t fucking worth my time. But he’s so different. Why the fuck can’t you let me be happy? Just because you don’t fucking know what you want with your life. And just because you can’t fucking be happy. And just because you always fuck up when it comes to relationships doesn’t mean you can’t let me have mine. I’ve been with him for a year. We don’t fucking argue. We don’t hate each other. And he doesn’t piss me off. I’m pretty sure that’s more than you could ever say in any relationship you’ve ever had. You know why? Because you’re an unhappy selfish cunt bag. And I don’t see why you can’t just let me be fucking happy. And I don’t see why you can’t understand how much I love him. And the fact that you think he doesn’t do anything for me? You’ve got to be fucking kidding me. He has made me so happy for the past year. Have you not noticed that I haven’t cut myself? Do you know how many times I could have? Do you know how many times I would have? But I didn’t. And do you want to know what makes this even better? I would have done it because of you. Nadine and I both have fucking told you that I’m emotionally a 7 year old. Literally. And you know what you do? You treat me like I should be your fucking age. I understand that I act so much older than I am. But when I fucking tell you these things, maybe you could listen. I don’t ask for much of you. I just ask that you understand that emotionally, I’m not quite there. But you just won’t fucking listen to me. You’re so fucking stupid you self-pretentious cunt. I hate you so much. Fuck living here. And fuck you. I hate you. I hate everything about you. And as soon as I start to think maybe you’re not that bad, you turn around and fuck everything up again. Please, stop bringing your personal shit into my life. Because I don’t need this bullshit. I can’t fucking take it. Why don’t you just stop talking to me all together? You know how your mom had been dead for almost 3 years when you were my age? Sometimes, I really fucking wish you were. YOU make me hate myself so fucking much. And YOU make me want to hurt myself. And YOU are the one that makes me cry all the time. It’s all YOUR fucking fault. And I’m not fucking kidding every time I tell you that. I hate you because you make me hate me. And I shouldn’t have to deal with this. I’m better than this. I shouldn’t hate myself the way that I do. Especially not when my self-hatred stems from my own fucking mother. You should support me. And love me. Not fucking hate me, call me stupid, fat, ugly. You fucking cunt. I fucking hate you. Stupid fucking bitch. Fuck you.
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All I wonder is if you’re even upset. That’s all I want to know. All day all I’ve wanted to do is talk to you. But I’m afraid it’ll only hurt me more. You probably don’t even notice a difference. Since you’re not attached to me. And I thought I wasn’t. I’m so fucking stupid. Of course I am. I sat there clinging to your shirt. I can’t believe it’s over. This hurts so bad. And I’m trying to be strong. I didn’t cut last night. But I think I was still in shock. But right now it hurts really really bad. And I’m clinging to my blade. And I don’t know what to do. I’m about to give up. I really think I might. Because this hurts far to much. And I don’t even know who to go to. All I want is you. And every time someone asks me what they can do for me I just say that I want my boyfriend back. This is so hard. I can’t believe I actually thought you were different. I’m everyone’s opportunity to be the dumper. And I will continue to be dumped. Fuck everything.
I don’t know, blade, tonight might be your night to prove yourself again. Don’t let me down.
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I wonder if you’re hurting like I am. Did you go home and cry. Did everyone start texting you to make sure you were okay? Is it all you think about? Does it feel like your heart’s been ripped out of your chest. Do you feel like an idiot? Do you regret it? But I doubt you’d say yes to any of these. You aren’t attached to me, remember? You don’t like me the same, remember? I’m just another brick in the wall.
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I can’t believe this just happened.
I never thought this would happen. Neither did my brain apparently. Sure, I cried after the initial shock. Watching you through tear blurred eyes as you left me for good, that hurts a lot. Knowing I’ll never love you the same again. All because of what? How could I know. But my mind doesn’t want to believe it. My mind is trying to forget it. But I’m prepared for the fall. I have my emergency blade. Just in case. Always with me. I haven’t needed an EB in a while. I hadn’t really planned on sleeping tonight either. But who knows. I might surprise myself. That usually happens after I cry anyway. It just kind of sucks how everyone left at once. Jakey, then Danny, then Romeo, then TP, then Ant. They all left. One by one. Not at very large intervals either. I’m surprised I’m not sitting here bleeding all over the place. But like I said, my mind won’t accept it. I don’t even know how this happened. I just fucking sat there. I don’t know what to do with myself. I really hope I don’t start crying tomorrow. I do not feel like spending half my day sitting in guidance. Dumb fucks.
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Somebody please make this hurt go away.
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I hate when I run out of shit to say. When all I want to do is vent for hours but there’s nothing left to be spewed. You feel so stuck but you have so much more to say. It’s a lack of the actual release. You can spew what’s in your mind but not what’s filling your heart. Not what courses through your veins. And that, is the urge to cut. And it doesn’t fucking go away. I can’t even explain what I miss about it. I just like to fucking hurt myself. And I can’t get over it. And I don’t know how to just go up to my therapist and say, “Hey, I know I come in here every week and tell you that I feel better, that I’m fine, but really, I’ve been lying to you this whole time and really every single fucking night the only thing that I want more in the world is just to fucking cut myself.” It’s all I want to do. I want to cut. I really really do. And this fucking urge won’t go away. And it’s not just my lack of happy pills because I always feel like this. All I EVER want to do is cut. In some way just cut myself. I just want to hurt myself. I really want to hurt. A lot. And I don’t know what to do. Because none of the alternatives I’ve looked up have been of any help to me.
