I’m depressed again. I know i’m always depressed but i’m numb now. And i don’t want to talk about it to people. Thats why theres been no updates. I don’t want to talk about it but i am making myself. I don’t know why. Life has been okay. No new problems with my mum. A bit of college drama. It's been nothing. I’m upset. I’m jealous. I wish i had it worse. I wish everything was terrible, but it’s not terrible. Its just bad. Its regular bad. I don’t want to talk about it because there’s nothing to talk about.
I built my identity on how much i was suffering from outside forces and now its gone and i’m left to pick up whatever is left of me. Im tired. I haven’t slept well in months. I want to cry. I feel like i need to cry but i just don’t care enough to. Crying isn't catharsis anymore, its just annoying. Its an involuntary physical reaction, just like the shaking and the heart palpitations and the hyperventilating and the dissociation. It is annoying. I am annoyed. I want to kill myself but i can’t be bothered because it would be stupid and take too much effort and emotion. I’m tired of emotion im so sick of feeling everything all the time why can’t i just sleep.
I don’t remember the last time i showered and i don’t really care. That’s bad. I know it is. Who fucking cares. Sorry i sound so edgy but i don’t care to make this one worded all nice and powerful. I am tired and i want to lay down and never wake up. I don’t want to care about it anymore. Any of it i just don’t want to care.
I want love. I want everything to be beautiful and i want life to feel as good as i know it can. The world is beautiful and it makes my stomach churn knowing how much i’m missing. I’m never getting better. I’m never getting better it will only get easier. And that’s horrifying. The rest of my life dedicated to managing it. Ive heard all the fucking advice therapists can give and none of it makes it easier. No matter how hard i try to ignore it, put my energy into positive stimuli i still feel sick. Everything is numb. I need to start cutting myself again but i have too many scars and i don’t want them to be any more obvious. But im so close man. Im so close to not giving a shit. What difference does a few more make my shoulder is already mangled enough. She’d notice it either way. They’re raised.
She’d look at me and tell me i mutilated myself with that face she does where her eyes get red and she tries not to cry while yelling. And she’d tell me how disgusting my scars look. She’d ask why i’d do such a thing to myself. And maybe i’d tell her. But i probably wouldn’t. I don’t have the nerve. I’d look at the floor and shake and try to leave my body like i always do. And she’d scream and cry and say i needed serious help but in that way where she wants me to be disgusted with the idea of it. She wants me to be embarrassed and feel bad. And i’d shake and cry and feel the pit in my stomach grow as the wound becomes me and i lose myself in the idea of killing myself again. And nothing would happen because i’m too scared. She’s so fuckig scary. Guys oh my god shes so scary. She rips into evry insecurity and tears then open and infects the wound and she beats me down until i beleive there is no other option than killing myself to making it better.
I want to kill msyelf. Right now. I could go downstairs and take a fistful of pills. I wonder how they’d react to my body in the morning. I used to fantasize about that. I remember being 11 and falling asleep to the idea of my hanging body. Sometimes i wanted to try and kill msyelf just so i’d wake up in hospital and she’d finally cry for me instead of yelling. She’d hug me and apologise for letting it get so bad. She’d address the constant verbal abuse throughout my entire upbringing and genuinely apologise for making me feel like i deserved to be dead and she’d hug me andi’d cry into her shoulder and she;d say she loves me and it would mean something. And i’d cry and i’d cry so fucking hard.she’d apologise. She’ll apologise right. She’ll say sorry she
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I need to stop thinking about these things. I want to vomit. Im so tired. I want to leave. I want to go to somewhere else where everything feels alright and everything is fixed. She doesn't even know how bad its gotten. She’ll never know. I’ll never get better. She opened a wound in me and it has been left open to fester and it keeps growing and i cant tell if i have just become the wound itself at this point. I don’t know how to escape it, it feels like all i am. I am only this. I can’t escape and i am going to die disgusting and afraid and it will be so funny. I hope i die soon. I hope i die soon i really hope i die soon. I’m sorry