September 27, 2014

I don’t know what to write or how I feel. All I know is I need to get a lot off my system.
It’s too much it’s driving me insane I’m actually going nuts and freaking out. I’m not sure if there’s any person I could talk to right now, too much happens too quickly and my mind only suffers the result. I can’t keep up, I try. I feel abused and threatened. I’m scared to share what I feel, hesitant to open up. It’s become a nightmare around here. anything I say is used against me. I can’t control my anger, and I end up hurting myself or something else. Because no one understands and it’s so frustrating. I choose myself over anything as I always have. I am the only thing that’s truly mine, the rest can be bought and sold and stolen. But I’ll always belong to me. Whatever scars I have I’ll bare the pain, but for how long. It hurts. And I do this because I feel helpless and worthless, but in the end I’m the one who’s responsible. My feelings are only an excuse to end up doing what I’m not allowed to do when I’m sane, apparently. I’m responsible for everything that’s ever happened in my life. At least that’s what he says and also I’m selfish and full of myself and I don’t really have any friends because of that. And when I breakdown, he tells me I’m annoying. I don’t know how I fell in love with a monster.
When I was sixteen and struggling with all that was happening to me, I was so sure someday I’d meet a guy who’d make all of it go away. And that person would understand me and not yell at me when I cut myself or break my phone instead calm me down and know that I need more care. I know I need help but who has the time to offer that kind of help unless they are paid, I’ve considered going into therapy but I don’t wanna be stuck with therapy the only day I get off.
I just need to be cared enough, not pity. And I end up craving the wrong kind of attention when I’m pitied. If I’d never cared about the rest I’d have killed myself years back. 2006 to be exact. I would’ve been dead. No one should ave stopped me. Why’d he stop me anyway? to go through this shit? alone.

2014

Every scar has it’s untold story. 
My apologies for all my mistakes, the anger I have no control over and the love, I have no courage to show.

2014

2014

2014

 I’m stubborn, selfish, impatient, stupid and what not. I flirt with people I talk to, I like the attention I get when I do. I like people who let me have my way or console me with whatever they could so that I’d drop it and be normal. Or convince me, but without a fight. There doesn’t have to be a fight every time right. And also i like telling people I’ll never see about my problems. I don’t expect the world to revolve around me. Maybe I do, I don’t know.

2014

2014

2014

How much is this worth? How much is any of this worth? Why am I so unhappy, the smallest things used to make me oh so happy. But now, they just make me sad so much that I hate everything. I hate life. I hate this crappy world, I hate the shit I’ve to put up with. I hate that I’m not there for the the one I love so much. I’m just not enough. Nothing’s more depressing than feeling so little and helpless in a world so big where everyone’s doing their thing and everyone seems to be dealing with it just fine. While I’m just lost and frustrated. I can’t take this anymore. I just really can’t. It already feels like I’ve lived and struggled for a hundred years and death is just taking too long. Why can’t it be now. Why can’t it be tomorrow. Why can’t it be soon. And this is disturbing when I think of the people who’d miss me when I’m gone. But it already feels like I’m dying a little everyday. How can I live when I feel like this.

2014

2014