It’s back to this blog because
I had to abandon him before he could hurt me.
I’m trying so hard to resist this urge to cut. I’m shaking and my breathing is heavy. I can see the sharp edge and all I can think about is the pain, the sick pleasure, that sweet escape.
I want to take all these pills. They’re pain killers, they should kill the pain, right? Kill it, drown it, suffocate it because it’s torturing me.
I’m fucking better than this. I’m better than you, and just because you turned out to be a dirty scumbag fucker, doesn’t mean I have to destroy myself.
my leg was healing but then 22 cuts later.
i’m shaking and i’m so tempted to take my pills.
what’s the point.
mishelle hates me.
connor thinks i’m a bitch
anyone and everyone who talks to me belittles my feelings and doesn’t acknowledge my cry for help.
it’s a cry for help, not attention you jerks.
i’m going to go take a couple sleeping pills and try to just sleep. i don’t want to be awake for now.
besides, patricia thinks some sleep would make all these insecure, lonely feelings of mine go away, right pattycake?
six times in a little over a week and purged two days in a row. today i said no more, i can’t let my bulimia get the best of me, not when my grades and future depend on it. it’s so hard. i must sound so whiny and annoying..
I’m stuck between wanting to kill myself wanting to get better. I don’t want to do, I just want to be happy. I just feel like I’ll never be happy in this life. I can only fights my inner demons for so long. I want to run away and find another life, new friends, new love. I want to erase my memory and start new. If only.
four times in one week, I’m on a roll (downhill)