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Sunday, November 27th, 2005
| Time | Event |
| 12:10a | I don't know what's going on with me anymore. One minute I'm tired, ready to go to bed. The next, I'm frantic, almost to the point of ripping my entire room apart and screaming at the top of my lungs because I can't find the one fucking thing I know will calm me down. Yeah, a fucking razor. I'm fucking cutting again, and it fucking disgusts me. It scares the shit out of me that it's all I have. But why the fuck would I call someone at 11 at night and tell them my problems so they can tell me "I'm sorry, Jen, I really am." I don't fucking need your sorrys. I need a fucking answer. I need a fucking reason to stay here any longer. All I ever fucking get in this world is shit. I get used and thrown away. That's all I'm fucking good for anymore. I'm a fucking toy. Well, that's all that fucking happens to me. I get my emotions toyed with. I get treated like a toy. FUCK. I swear to fucking christ, I can't fucking take this shit anymore. This is flowing through my fingers so fast I can hardly keep up. But I'm not thinking, I'm just writing. Not fucking giving a flying shit what the fuck I write here or how anyone will react. But fuck. Can anyone give me any fucking hint as to why it's worth it to put up with this shit any longer? I used to see the light at the end of the tunnel, but motherfucker, once again someone dumped a heap of shit in front of me and now it's gone. I can't fucking see it anymore. Jesus christ, I think I really need to check myself in somewhere. Or maybe start the Ativans again. I was doing ok on those. I wasn't as crazy. And fuck, the drugs don't help anymore. Last night I got stoned, and you know what it fucking did? Abso-fucking-lutely nothing. I still thought about everything. It didn't go away. I drank two nights ago, to what avail? NOTHING. I really don't know if I'm going to be able to handle myself much longer. I'm trying the whole "focus on work" bullshit to get my mind away from it, but sooner or later I'm going to fucking catch my grips with reality and realize how much of a pathetic fuckup I am. I mean, come the fuck on. I AM PATHETIC, no matter what you tell me. I'm always going to say that when I see my reflection. ALWAYS. I'm fucking up my life. I really am. You know that goal I made, to make it to 18? Well, fuck. I don't even know if I'll last until 17. I can't fucking bottle this shit anymore. I can't. If I bottle one more fucking emotion, I swear to god, I'll break. I really fucking will. Remember when I wigged out on the 99, Kyle? Fuck, multiply that by 100 and you'll get what I'm close to. I can fucking feel it. I know it's coming on. Maybe I am just like my dad, a bipolar psychopath who wigs out every couple years. I'VE FOUND THE ANSWER! Fucking eureka! I'M FUCKING BIPOLAR! No wonder noone wants anything to do with me once they see the inner me. I'm so fucked up, they can't handle it. Everyone fucking tells me "Oh, you don't know what it's like being me, I'm probably more fucked up than you'll ever be." You wanna fucking try me? Really? DO YOU? You want to live 24/7 hating yourself because you can't control your emotions? You want to start carving endless amounts of wounds into yourself just to show how much you truly hate yourself? You want to look in the mirror and want to smash it because you know that in the end noone will ever want to deal with you and how fucked up you are? Noone wants to deal with your vividly extreme mood swings, noone wants to deal with your co-dependent ways, noone wants to even bother trying to help you because YOU DONT WANT TO HELP YOURSELF. You just want to crawl on the floor and rot there in a pit of your own despair until one night you finally cut too deep and realize what you could have prevented? You want to realize that anything good in your life you ruined because you were so caught up in how fucked up you are? Live that for one fucking day and tell me that I'm not as much, if not more, fucked up than you. If you peeked in my head, it would be worse than making a innocent 3-year old girl watch someone kill everyone she loved as if in a horror movie. Because in the end, that's what I'm doing. I'm making everyone around me dead to me because they don't want to deal with me. They don't want to care because it's too much work to care. But you know what, FUCK IT. I'll prove myself wrong for ME. I'll show myself that I'm not pathetic. I'll finally overcome everything that is welling up inside me and finally live my life the way I was meant to. ((No, I fucking wont, thats how fucking pathetic I am)) I'm out for the night. x/3 :: im going down and noone can stop me :: x/3 not even you. Current Mood:  contemplativeCurrent Music: atreyu. demonology and heartache. |
| 2:27a | ....i'm not depressed.... is it possible to feel so elated, but still feel like dying? because that is kind of what i am feeling RIGHT NOW. i've gone back to cutting where-ever, instead of just thighs, and now i have cuts on my shoulders, my arms, my thighs, my calves, and a couple on my ankles. it snowed tonight. the first real snow. we got about an inch, i think. i hate snow. church tomorrow. i'm gonna go. i figure it will be easier to convince everyone that i'm OK if i'm actually taking steps to make it look like that. plus, my dad might go postal on me if i miss again tomorrow. fuckshit. i'm trying to decide if it is even worth it to go to bed. it's about 2:30, and i'll probably be here until 4, and if i go to bed at 4 there is no way i'll be up for church. so maybe if i just stay up all night. grumble. or maybe i'll just go to sleep now.... blah. goodnight. Current Mood:  grumpyCurrent Music: mistakes we knew we were making -->mae |
| 10:00a | i hold my breath and pretend like this never happened. i gave in. i sat in the dark under my covers contemplating whether or not i should cut myself. i sat there for 20 minutes hold a razor blade. if i did i'd break my promise to myself, but then again when have i ever done anything for myself...what's the harm in giving in. if i didn't then i'd be okay. i would have gotten that much closer to stopping. i want to stop cutting. but i couldn't do it. i cut myself eight times on my hip, i guess that's not too bad, but the fact that i even did it once was horrible. i'm such an ass. now i'm sitting here in bed, in the same spot, awake. i don't want to go down stairs and show my face. i don't want to take my anti-depressents, i don't want to tell my counsellor i gave in and cut. i dont want to move. i'm not like this because of what you told me. this isn't your fault, dont ever think that. overall it's just been a horrible weekend because i've seen too much, i've swallowed too much and i've thought about things i shouldn't way too much. can you stop me now? i'm sitting here now looking at everything i have collected over the years, placed on my walls and shelves. everything has a story in here. they are all here for a reason; the pictures of friends, painting's i've painted, a little porcalian elephant i got when i was born. the only thing that doesn't seem to belong in here is me. i'm out of place. i'm not smiling like i am in these pictures. i don't have people surrounding me like i did in those pictures. i don't feel as good as i did when i got those presents. i don't feel like that anymore. why was it all so temporary? why can't i always feel like this, fucking life. *sigh* today i think i'll watch movies all day. whenever i'm sad i sit down and watch breakfast at tiffany's (my favourite movie ever) ... but i don't have it here. i brought it to lara's a few months ago and i forgot it there and haven't gotten it back. so i think i may have to pull out some Disney movies... little mirmaid or beauty and the beast. maybe even home alone .... decisions are not easy to make when you're depressed. how can you miss something when you never had it to begin with? Current Mood:  crappyCurrent Music: Limp Bizkit - I'm on the outside |
| 3:36p | any one have any advice on how to stop cutting? im so tired of doing it but everytime i do i just get this feeling of relief flood over me and it seems like maybe just maybe everything is going to be alright |
| 3:58p | is this the way a toy feels when its batteries run dry? |
| 7:28p | tomorrow, i'll be there clouds part and the moon is weak reflecting on the pavement like something transparent harmless like my palms pointed upwards the sky ignores me i shrink into the horizon and become generic cut out from a sharpened blade cut up and left to erode desolate destruction, silent and arid the wind is scarce nobody hears the leaves fall here lined up properly every chaotic movement so deliberate and destined for my chest this dance of death oustepping infinity i tilt and careen into something hollow familiar [like the void within me] I feel so weird today. I've spent the day hiding in other people's emotions. listening to music pulse through my veins. hitting the pipe a lot. falling asleep whenever i can. just avoiding reality in general, i suppose. avoidance, ah, my perfected choice of action. solution to everything. tsk tsk tsk. shame on me. haven't cut today. not that i haven't felt like it.... i just kind of haven't gotten around to doing it. laziness ha. confusion sets in like a fog. i can barely see what's past my fingertips anymore. my eyes are so goddamn blurry. my vision hazy. my reality warped. gah. i never know what direction to choose. Current Mood:  confusedCurrent Music: incubus - drive |
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