Monday, November 7th, 2005

Time	Event
4:06p	"only marks appear on walls, where pleasured memories lied before." i have to say that i am so happy that natalie is getting better...i'm glad one of us here can see there is something more. i can't say i'm quite there yet, but i'm closer then i was a year ago. i broke down last night before i fell asleep. i couldn't stop crying and i felt like something needed to rip through my stomach. i just wanted to scream, but it would have echoed into the basement to my mom...i wanted to cut, but i didn't want to feel guilty. i didn't cut, but somehow...i still feel guilty. i cried, but i don't feel any happier. i take all these meds to make me happy, but i feel so far from it. i don't know how happy feels anymore. i've been without it for so many years. it's such a foreign feeling to me now. it's like i'm stuck. i can't break out of what i used to feel. i used to be able to cut and get away for that little bit, but lately i just haven't been able to do it. i don't want the scars. i can't handle them anymore. everytime i look in the mirror at myself i cringe. i'm so ugly, so disgusting. i'm just a body that's lost herself. i feel so full with empty exhistance. every scar is a mark of my pain, the memories i couldn't forget. now i wont ever forget because it has left a mark on my skin. every time i cut, i chipped away a little bit more of myself. i've carved down to the final layer. i'm so weak now. i want to go back to the hospital to feel safe, but i want to move on at the same time. i can't do both. where is my happy medium!? this sweeping insensitivity. i'm a walking victim of myself, i brutalized this body. no one else did but me. i was the one that couldn't let go. i was the one that didn't want to move on. i'm the one that cried over the scars, over every battle wound i cut into my skin. i let this bleed through the sheets. i let this get deeper. i'm jaded now. i don't want this. i dont want everything i've brought upon myself. i don't want to disapear, but i don't want to be seen. i just want to rewind and start from the begining. no mistakes, no pain, no me. a clean slate, i'll wipe away everything i have ever hated. i'll make sure i never make that first slice. i don't pop those pills. i'll make this better then it could ever be. i'll become something other then me. i find myself checking every arm i see. it's like i'm searching for someone to be messed up like me. everytime i see long sleeves i assume they're there for the same reason mine are. that underneith the fabric there are hundreds of purple and red scars. i hope. ...i don't want anyone to feel the way i do, but i know that people do. i just wish i knew someone near me that was going through this, that i could talk to ...maybe open up to. i hate this so much, its so frustrating. what do i do when i go south for my grad trip? when i have to wear a bathingsuit, go to clubs and wear skirts? what do i do!?!? it's those on-going questions that seem to be driving me crazy. along with the "but" 's and "i wish" 's. they get me stuck in this negative aspect of thinking. Current Mood: confused (4 Comments | Comment on this)
4:07p	"They die because of exposure" quote from my biology teacher. ugh. so Hillary thinks that I like this boy named Eric. and the truth is, I dont know who I like. and so she got all pissy at me. and Eric likes me. and this is nothing I can help. ugh. *rolls eyes* so I get to school. and I'm in a great mood. (cuz i went to Senses Fail last night, which kicked ass) and yah. I get to school and I find Dusty. and I go talk to him. and he's by Hillary and Baylee. and I was, and still am, verrrry tired. so I put my head on Hilllary's backpack. at this point in time, I had no clue that she was pissed at me. she stormed off. and I was like "WHAT THE FUCK?!" to Baylee. and she fucking shrugged me off. so I get Dusty to walk with me and he informs me that Hillary is pissed at me because of Eric. and Baylee hates me because apparently, my best friend ever, Lena, and I were talking about her (which I'm not denying bc neither of us really like her) and she heard us. I personally could care less what Baylee thinks, whether she likes me or not. I really dont give a shit. and so me and Dusty walk away. and I'm talking to him. and he's telling me about how Hillary is mad at me bc of Eric. and how Baylee is mad at me bc of my talking about her. and so I am like yelling my heart out at Dusty. because I am so stressed and I'm almost in tears at this point. and ugh. she wont even talk to me. and yah. my whole day has been like that. trying not to cry. trying to talk to her. and ugh. yah. wow. all of that took place before first hour even started! it was Hell. I tell you what. it got to the point where i found Lena and I said, right in front of everyone else, "I have scissors in my backpack ..." and she was like "no. not here" and I didnt do it. but just the thought that I did have scissors was comforting. and so yah. idk. so I continued throughout my day. and it pretty much sucked. but. at the end of the day, I was so fed up. I was walking with Lena. and I was like "oh my. I just want to hug and kiss Eric. right infront of Hillary. just to piss her off even more" but a) I couldnt find him and b) I figured that wasnt such a good idea. wow. so that was my day. hope everyone had a better one. and I'll probably end up cutting tonight. but oh well. PS. I ♥ that quote from my teacher. we were talking about. hell. I dont know. and I tuned in at this part and I was like "fuck yah!" hahah! so I used it. because it pretty much sums everything up. ♥♥ Current Mood: aggravated Current Music: Panic! At the Disco (Comment on this)
5:45p	so it had been 10 months since i cut. so much for that record. i bled so much today, i feel so low. lower than dirt. (1 Comment | Comment on this)

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