I successfully cut myself yesterday. I took apart a razor and made 27 slashes across my stomach (nobodies seeing it anyway). I’ve already become a bit addicted to it. Today when I was feeling extra shitty, I started feeling jittery and scratching at my skin. It’s a wonderful release, though I still think I deserve so much worse.
Today is my birthday. I turn 15. No celebration. No cake. No compliments. Nothing. And its all intentional. I haven’tÂ celebrated not one of my birthdays.Â Â I don’t deserve a birthday, i guess. I couldn’t bring myself, even for one day, to celebrate, well, myself. I don’t deserve it. Oddly enough, I’m surprised I let myself live this long. I truly realized today that I don’t belong here. I really need to rid the world of myself. The big, beautiful gorgeous world would be more resilient if I wasn’t in it anymore.
All of you out there, I will help you as much as I can, and with every bit of energy I have left; I can’t say the same for myself unfortunately.
P.S. I would like to thank Jon and pulling the plug again for their thoughtful and considerate comments.