"Oh the thoughts. Oh the memories. How can I ever be the same again? Will I ever be the same again?" Every scar has a memory. Every memory has a scar. Most have one. Some have a few. I constantly think about myself covered in red lines running along my body. With perpendicular lines running down in glistening blood. I close my eyes and that is how I want to see myself. That is my definition of beauty. I will be beautiful when I have hit rock bottom. From then on, there is only UP. "Maybe, just maybe, I will get Skinnier. Prettier. More Loved. Visibly more confident. Maybe my depression and anxiety will just disappear. Forever. Maybe I will become normal. Happy. If only life actually worked that way." Then I am snapped back into reality. I will NEVER be skinny. Never be pretty. Never be loved. Never be confident. I will always have my demons hanging over my shoulders pushing me deeper and deeper into the water. Forever. I will never be normal. And I will always be UNHAPPY. I have never felt happiness. Only sadness cloaked in endorphins. Sadness is in my DNA. My demons are now a permanent part of me. If I attempt to kill them, it will kill a part of me. Drugs, therapy, everything will just mask the pain and they will come back with a vengeance. Maybe one of these days I can just end it all Permanently. I am one of those who dream of death, but am to PATHETIC to be able to go through with it. So then I am stuck destroying myself slowly and living in constant agony from my own thoughts. I know, I know. Get Help. I don't WANT help. This is a part of me. Always will be. If you don't like it, then I guess you can't handle the truth about me. You couldn't handle any of my secrets. I am so deep that an eternity of going up will not get my any higher. I have tried everything to mask the pain but nothing worked. The PAIN was there with me, making me crazy. Making me "Attention Seeking". I drank my life away for 2 weeks straight. I was drunk every day at school for 2 weeks just trying to make life enjoyable. I was happy, or so I thought. Once I ran out of booze, I returned to the Fat Emo girl I was 2 weeks before. I then recalled all the memories from the past weeks and realized everyone thought I was just seeking attention from people because I was boring. I even had people confront me about it. It hurt- ALOT. this happened once a year for two years. Every year around February-March I would drink my life away. I am PATHETIC thinking that alcohol would help me. I even once tried drinking and driving. I got home fine. Everytime I try something, the outcome is not what I want. "Why can't I go deep enough? Why do stay fat even though I starve myself? Why do my suicide attempts fail? Why am I stuck with the burden of being ME?" I am the epitome of F.A.I.L.U.R.E. The only time I am really "comfortable" being me is in the winter days. Sweatshirts. Long sleeves. Pants. Gloves. Beanies. Anything and Everything to hide myself. I walk around like nothing is bothering me, like I am happy-well at least content. I walk around like I am comfortable being different, being me. But on the inside, I am sinking deeper into myself. Knowing that everyone that looks at me thinks I am a freak. Knowing. "I can see through her façade, her mask." "I know you cry yourself to sleep." "I know you are a pathetic piece of shit that cannot even kill herself like she wants." "She is worthless." "Pathetic." "Suicidal." "EMO." "She cuts herself for attention" "Go kill yourself." " Go blare your EMO music and die." "No one would care if you are alive or dead." "Maybe you will get the attention you are seeking once you are dead." "What the fuck is she wearing? Can she not fit in any REAL clothing?" Wow, a fat ass trying to be pretty, how sad." "She is totally hiding a HUGE secret that really isn't a secret because it is so obvious- CUTTER." I am pathetic. I am not worth it. No human being can handle this level of craziness. No matter how much they try. I will relapse every time I stop. One little argument can throw me over the edge. I deserve desertion, abandonment, being alone. I am a Contagious Virus that will begin to infect your mind from the moment we meet. I will slowly eat at your happiness causing you to begin to see the world as black and white, too. I am Sorry. I have already infected many and have isolated myself to ensure no one else goes crazy. I will never be loved; I do not deserve it. They do not deserve loving such a suicidal girl; it will slowly kill them too. I have been broken and damaged for so longer, I have learned how to survive. I know you will not survive one month. I promise you. When I get to close or notice a minor flaw, I will fixate on it until I must end it because it is eating away at my insides. I am permanently broken and loving me will make you broken too. I am sorry. Goodbye. For now. Ill post again soon. Live Life for me <3 I love all of you.
Sunday, July 21, 2013
I Can't Fear Death No Longer
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"Oh the thoughts. Oh the memories. How can I ever be the same again? Will I ever be the same again?" Every scar has a memory. Every memory has a scar. Most have one. Some have a few. I constantly think about myself covered in red lines running along my body. With perpendicular lines running down in glistening blood. I close my eyes and that is how I want to see myself. That is my definition of beauty. I will be beautiful when I have hit rock bottom. From then on, there is only UP. "Maybe, just maybe, I will get Skinnier. Prettier. More Loved. Visibly more confident. Maybe my depression and anxiety will just disappear. Forever. Maybe I will become normal. Happy. If only life actually worked that way." Then I am snapped back into reality. I will NEVER be skinny. Never be pretty. Never be loved. Never be confident. I will always have my demons hanging over my shoulders pushing me deeper and deeper into the water. Forever. I will never be normal. And I will always be UNHAPPY. I have never felt happiness. Only sadness cloaked in endorphins. Sadness is in my DNA. My demons are now a permanent part of me. If I attempt to kill them, it will kill a part of me. Drugs, therapy, everything will just mask the pain and they will come back with a vengeance. Maybe one of these days I can just end it all Permanently. I am one of those who dream of death, but am to PATHETIC to be able to go through with it. So then I am stuck destroying myself slowly and living in constant agony from my own thoughts. I know, I know. Get Help. I don't WANT help. This is a part of me. Always will be. If you don't like it, then I guess you can't handle the truth about me. You couldn't handle any of my secrets. I am so deep that an eternity of going up will not get my any higher. I have tried everything to mask the pain but nothing worked. The PAIN was there with me, making me crazy. Making me "Attention Seeking". I drank my life away for 2 weeks straight. I was drunk every day at school for 2 weeks just trying to make life enjoyable. I was happy, or so I thought. Once I ran out of booze, I returned to the Fat Emo girl I was 2 weeks before. I then recalled all the memories from the past weeks and realized everyone thought I was just seeking attention from people because I was boring. I even had people confront me about it. It hurt- ALOT. this happened once a year for two years. Every year around February-March I would drink my life away. I am PATHETIC thinking that alcohol would help me. I even once tried drinking and driving. I got home fine. Everytime I try something, the outcome is not what I want. "Why can't I go deep enough? Why do stay fat even though I starve myself? Why do my suicide attempts fail? Why am I stuck with the burden of being ME?" I am the epitome of F.A.I.L.U.R.E. The only time I am really "comfortable" being me is in the winter days. Sweatshirts. Long sleeves. Pants. Gloves. Beanies. Anything and Everything to hide myself. I walk around like nothing is bothering me, like I am happy-well at least content. I walk around like I am comfortable being different, being me. But on the inside, I am sinking deeper into myself. Knowing that everyone that looks at me thinks I am a freak. Knowing. "I can see through her façade, her mask." "I know you cry yourself to sleep." "I know you are a pathetic piece of shit that cannot even kill herself like she wants." "She is worthless." "Pathetic." "Suicidal." "EMO." "She cuts herself for attention" "Go kill yourself." " Go blare your EMO music and die." "No one would care if you are alive or dead." "Maybe you will get the attention you are seeking once you are dead." "What the fuck is she wearing? Can she not fit in any REAL clothing?" Wow, a fat ass trying to be pretty, how sad." "She is totally hiding a HUGE secret that really isn't a secret because it is so obvious- CUTTER." I am pathetic. I am not worth it. No human being can handle this level of craziness. No matter how much they try. I will relapse every time I stop. One little argument can throw me over the edge. I deserve desertion, abandonment, being alone. I am a Contagious Virus that will begin to infect your mind from the moment we meet. I will slowly eat at your happiness causing you to begin to see the world as black and white, too. I am Sorry. I have already infected many and have isolated myself to ensure no one else goes crazy. I will never be loved; I do not deserve it. They do not deserve loving such a suicidal girl; it will slowly kill them too. I have been broken and damaged for so longer, I have learned how to survive. I know you will not survive one month. I promise you. When I get to close or notice a minor flaw, I will fixate on it until I must end it because it is eating away at my insides. I am permanently broken and loving me will make you broken too. I am sorry. Goodbye. For now. Ill post again soon. Live Life for me <3 I love all of you.
"Oh the thoughts. Oh the memories. How can I ever be the same again? Will I ever be the same again?" Every scar has a memory. Every memory has a scar. Most have one. Some have a few. I constantly think about myself covered in red lines running along my body. With perpendicular lines running down in glistening blood. I close my eyes and that is how I want to see myself. That is my definition of beauty. I will be beautiful when I have hit rock bottom. From then on, there is only UP. "Maybe, just maybe, I will get Skinnier. Prettier. More Loved. Visibly more confident. Maybe my depression and anxiety will just disappear. Forever. Maybe I will become normal. Happy. If only life actually worked that way." Then I am snapped back into reality. I will NEVER be skinny. Never be pretty. Never be loved. Never be confident. I will always have my demons hanging over my shoulders pushing me deeper and deeper into the water. Forever. I will never be normal. And I will always be UNHAPPY. I have never felt happiness. Only sadness cloaked in endorphins. Sadness is in my DNA. My demons are now a permanent part of me. If I attempt to kill them, it will kill a part of me. Drugs, therapy, everything will just mask the pain and they will come back with a vengeance. Maybe one of these days I can just end it all Permanently. I am one of those who dream of death, but am to PATHETIC to be able to go through with it. So then I am stuck destroying myself slowly and living in constant agony from my own thoughts. I know, I know. Get Help. I don't WANT help. This is a part of me. Always will be. If you don't like it, then I guess you can't handle the truth about me. You couldn't handle any of my secrets. I am so deep that an eternity of going up will not get my any higher. I have tried everything to mask the pain but nothing worked. The PAIN was there with me, making me crazy. Making me "Attention Seeking". I drank my life away for 2 weeks straight. I was drunk every day at school for 2 weeks just trying to make life enjoyable. I was happy, or so I thought. Once I ran out of booze, I returned to the Fat Emo girl I was 2 weeks before. I then recalled all the memories from the past weeks and realized everyone thought I was just seeking attention from people because I was boring. I even had people confront me about it. It hurt- ALOT. this happened once a year for two years. Every year around February-March I would drink my life away. I am PATHETIC thinking that alcohol would help me. I even once tried drinking and driving. I got home fine. Everytime I try something, the outcome is not what I want. "Why can't I go deep enough? Why do stay fat even though I starve myself? Why do my suicide attempts fail? Why am I stuck with the burden of being ME?" I am the epitome of F.A.I.L.U.R.E. The only time I am really "comfortable" being me is in the winter days. Sweatshirts. Long sleeves. Pants. Gloves. Beanies. Anything and Everything to hide myself. I walk around like nothing is bothering me, like I am happy-well at least content. I walk around like I am comfortable being different, being me. But on the inside, I am sinking deeper into myself. Knowing that everyone that looks at me thinks I am a freak. Knowing. "I can see through her façade, her mask." "I know you cry yourself to sleep." "I know you are a pathetic piece of shit that cannot even kill herself like she wants." "She is worthless." "Pathetic." "Suicidal." "EMO." "She cuts herself for attention" "Go kill yourself." " Go blare your EMO music and die." "No one would care if you are alive or dead." "Maybe you will get the attention you are seeking once you are dead." "What the fuck is she wearing? Can she not fit in any REAL clothing?" Wow, a fat ass trying to be pretty, how sad." "She is totally hiding a HUGE secret that really isn't a secret because it is so obvious- CUTTER." I am pathetic. I am not worth it. No human being can handle this level of craziness. No matter how much they try. I will relapse every time I stop. One little argument can throw me over the edge. I deserve desertion, abandonment, being alone. I am a Contagious Virus that will begin to infect your mind from the moment we meet. I will slowly eat at your happiness causing you to begin to see the world as black and white, too. I am Sorry. I have already infected many and have isolated myself to ensure no one else goes crazy. I will never be loved; I do not deserve it. They do not deserve loving such a suicidal girl; it will slowly kill them too. I have been broken and damaged for so longer, I have learned how to survive. I know you will not survive one month. I promise you. When I get to close or notice a minor flaw, I will fixate on it until I must end it because it is eating away at my insides. I am permanently broken and loving me will make you broken too. I am sorry. Goodbye. For now. Ill post again soon. Live Life for me <3 I love all of you.
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