I Am Not Your Charity Case

I am not your charity case!
I cut deeper every time; never reaching a point of vein. many cut worse but I don't care, as long as I get to feel. The more I bleed the less it hurts. I no longer feel pain in m skin, it stays numb. that is not good, but I don't care. I will continue. Is my addiction ruining my body? Yes it is, but I cannot stop. I can't! I won't! Won't I? Many tell me they care but I no longer accept it or believe it. I speak to two close friends about my addiction yet when I text I can say all I want but I cannot in person. I feel as though once I reveal my wounds and scars, they will reject me and abandon me to fend for myself and tell the world of my attention seeking ways, just like everyone else has... I want to show someone. I want someone to actually care enough to push me to see them just so I know they truly care about my wellbeing and will do all they can to make sure I am not slowly killing myself. If only I could die without people noticing. Every time I drive, I sit there wishing to run off the road and die. It is not a good thing but it will continue to flash through my brain every time I drive. I will not kill myself for it will no fix a thing and will hurt my loved ones. death cannot fix something that is permanently broken- ME... No matter where I reside- in either life or death- I will never feel joy... I haven't felt joy in almost 3 years and many many years before then. I have always been the outcast, the freak, the timid one. Every time I think of it I burst into tears, but what can I do about it? Nothing. It is the past...memories... They will never change. All this flows fast through my brain as I lay my skin open to bleed away my worries, my stress, my pain. Physical pain no longer exists in this body, only mental. If only I had physical pain because at least that is fixed with a few medical supplies. Mental pain- crazy- cannot be fixed simply or quickly. it requires tiresome unguaranteed therapy and drugs that cause the death of one's soul while trying to balance one's unstable emotions. To be honest, I'd rather be a zebra than be a zombie for the rest of my life thank you because makeup can hide scars... Faking emotions can only go on for so long before resorting back to square one- Self Harm. I believe that at this rate, I will be hospitalized once in the next year or so if I don't stop and take a small break like I do every 3 months or so. Luckily, my parents do not care to much to notice any f my craziness, like: my drastic and swift changes in mood from normal to furious to depressed in 5 seconds, and always wearing jackets, cuffs, warmers, umm my overattachment to my friends then push them away when I get too close, my secret panic attacks (oftenly enough to be listed), anxiety and depression when left alone to over process everything, and my MAJOR zoning problem lately... I wish I was normal!!! no family problems, no self-loathing... a normal brain!! Why can't I have a flat stomach, size 00- 3 pant size, smaller boobs, beautiful face, popular, normal style in clothing, music and beauty. I want to be an average person, not a fat chick that doesn't fit in anywhere, not even at her own house, and over thinks everything causing her to ruin things that were perfect before I came along. WHY DO I RUIN EVERYTHING?!?!?! No matter where I am, I am judged yet I deserve it. I chose to dress like this, act like this, get addicted to things way to easily. It's all my fault- plain and simple... I screwed up my life because I let people get into my head way too easily and I deserve everything ever said to and about me and everything I continue to do to destroy my body. I can't be fixed, and don't want to be. I'm worthless...