Giving up, giving in

I gave in, and I do not care. scissors were surprisingly not as effective as I would have hoped. How funny that I cut myself with them by accident all the time.... is it over yet.... when will it be over?

Vacation?

I have waited years for a vacation and so far it has been mostly 10 days of horridness. Some light, some feeling of something other than alone.... and then it happened as I knew it would. And I craved to cut so deep. So much.... but I did not. Instead I held the scissors in my hand as I curled up.... I just held them knowing that I COULD if I had to.... just wait a minute and see... then one more minute....and I made it..... so far just one tiny burn.... so little no one noctices.... just a little one. to carry me through....

"They all felt something,
But I felt nothing
Except the feeling
That this bullshit was absurd!"

Finish This

i am: intense, in need, in pain.
i think: love is a myth
i know: more than I want to
i want: to be really loved
i have: trust issues
i wish: he loved me
i hate: being fat
i miss: sex
i fear: that i will always be a codependant masochist with scars instead of smiles
i feel: too many emotions at once
i hear: traffic and the silence between us.
i smell: dish soap on my finely scrubbed hands.
i crave: to be desired and loved by one person who is capable of accepting the same from me.
i search: for meaning
i wonder: at what moment in my life did i become this utter fucked up mess.
i regret: most everything.
i love: too much
i ache: for someone to need me in their life
i care: too much for someone who takes me utterly for granted.
i always: blame myself for others failings
i am not: nearly grown up enough
i believe: that with enough therapy i can stop myself from dying.
i dance: rarely
i sing: in the car and when i am morbidly sad
i don’t always: hear what people are saying
i fight: the urge to just off myself
i write: not enough.
i win: ha!
i lose: myself
i never: believe someone could really love me even if they say they do.
i confuse: sex for love and vice versa
i listen: to every nuance of his words straining to hear something other then narcissism.
i long: to feel like a disney princess at the end of the movie
i can usually be found: sleeping, smoking, or online.
i am scared: of being alone forever
i need: something in my life to change
i am happy about: W not going to prison.

I love living in a fantasy world where bad things can be forgotten in a moment just because we want them to.

Please.

You have no idea the depth of darkness creeping inside me right now and how much venom I swallow just to breathe.

Bad Day

I guess it was inevitable that I would cut today.

I made it through the horrible hateful email from my sister, I barely made it but I did. But tonight with him, feeling his loathing for my body I could not take it. I had to.

The fat part of my arm. The part I hate so fucking much. I wish I could be like so many of the Ana girls. I want to have that much discipline and sickness but nope.... I am a fat fuck with nothing for will power.

I want to hide it, but I want to tell him. I am supposed to tell him...

I can't this one is my secret.

Fuck, my life is my secret.

God I want to cut.
Not fine beautiful lines with a razor.
I liked the shell.
It took a lot of force and effort to draw blood.
It was bulky and awkward like me.
Not only did it cut... it bruised.

I hate this life I have
This life of self-imposed invisible mutilation.
I hate when it lingers in front of me and I am silent.
I hate
I hate
I hate!
I hate counting to feel better and it not working no number is enough to remove the pain the invisibility I feel. The ugliness.

I hate being me.
I hate my skin and the way it crawls across me as a constant reminder of who I am.
I HATE.

I hate my legs my arms my face my breasts and the way I want to cut them off not with a surgeons scalpel but with a hatchet. No delicacy for me. Nothing soft or smooth but brash and ugly. I want to look as ugly as I feel. I want it to be palpable.

I want to remove this pain. This feeling that will not subside in me. I want to get high. I want to get stupid. I want that moment of release when I feel something and nothing all at once.

I WANT TO NOT HATE SO FUCKING MUCH.

In breathy darkenss
I dream of sheading this skin-- this flesh
This life gone
Leaping into the void that is beyond

Moving onto new
Taking on the next life-- another life
No monotony
Into the exploration of ambiguity

To be energy
Not bound by a shell- expectation
Floating lost
Where I am finally found.

Starting Over

I self-harmed today. I am scared. Is this just the beginning of it all over again? I have made a promise not to do anything further today/tonight. I am supposed to tell my therapist. It was only little.....

So what is emotional self-mutilation?

It is this covert act that I commit upon myself every time I wake up, every moment I breathe. I have been forbidden and made "contracts" not to self-harm. I have not. Instead inside my swirling brain I do such fun things as thinking of ways I cannot kill myself.

• I cannot overdose
• I cannot slit my wrists
• I cannot drive off a cliff
• I cannot drown myself

Instead, I go to therapy 2 times a week. I take a fistful of pills every night. I go to group once a week. I live a half-life. One between depression and reality. One where I reside alone.

If I can just be quiet enough, still enough, it will not hurt.