Randomness

There are a lot of thoughts running through my head today.

Thoughts of a better tomorrow.

Thoughts of being gone.

Thoughts of how my son, my mother, my father, my brother would cope.

I called HIM today, and there was no answer. I guess he really doesn’t care.

I wanted to tell him that the hate that I feel for myself is finally surpassed  by hatred for him.

But, there was no answer.

I told HER that I want to be free.

She can’t let me go. She needs me she says.

Why do I have to watch her be with someone else?

If she felt that our love was wrong, why did she make me love her?

I want to cut. I’m holding my blade.

I don’t want to cut, because I will be committed.

I got a call from a long-lost friend. He misses me.

I miss him too, but I hurried off the phone.

I don’t want him to hear the despair in my tone.

I told him I’ll call him back. I’m not going to.

My life is in shambles.

My life is falling apart.

I have been strong for so long, that I don’t know how to ask for help.

I tell everyone that I’m fine. Can’t anyone see that I’m lying?

Or are they so wrapped up in their own disasters that they don’t care?

But when they call, I’m expected to listen. To give advice.

And I follow through, ’cause that’s what I’m supposed to do…

I can’t endure all of this alone. I called D for help.

She’s wrapped up in her new romance. She turns the topic back to that.

I pretended my phone was dead.

It isn’t. It’s perfectly charged.

I’m a liar. And a good one.

Can’t anyone see that I need help with this shit?

And when I try to talk about it, they say “It’s not that bad.”

“Stop being depressed.”

Oh, shit!! I didn’t know it was that fucking easy… Why didn’t I think of that?!

What I really want to tell them is that they are assholes. And I hope they choke.

I want one person, and I want them to put their arms around me and hold me together.

I’m falling apart. It’s close to the end.

I want to cause harm to someone other than me.

I want to cause harm to me.

I used to go to church.

Bunch of fucking hypocrites.

I’m a hypocrite too.

Maybe that’s  why I can’t deal with it.

False smile plastered on. False laugh ringing out.

Why does death seem like an escape?

Why does life seem too hard to push through?

Is there anyone that can see that I’m dying?

I don’t have a plan for suicide.

I’m killing myself slowly.

I do not eat.

If I eat, I throw it back up.

I went to the hospital, because I have the ‘flu.

They had to give me fluids, because I was dehydrated.

I’m not dehydrated because of the ‘flu.

I’m dehydrated because I don’t eat.

I am existing through a private hell.

Holding it together on the outside, dying on the inside.

Fuck it. Maybe I won’t have to take drastic measures.

Maybe I will recover.

Maybe I will not.

Sad  thing is… I don’t care which one happens anymore… I just wanna stop feeling.