I don’t have anything to write, because I can’t put it into words. Â I’ll just complain.
I’ve pulled away from my friends, and I’m dating a guy that I could care less about because that’s easier than getting hurt.
It’s been a long process, but I’m finally at that point where I can really say that I don’t really have friends. Â I have people that I can count on, but nobody that I would talk to. Â People have tried to help me in the past, but they always end up doing more damage. Â And as for the guy, I don’t really know what to do with him. Â He has no respect for my boundaries, and he’s stolen from me, but I’m so beyond caring about anything at this point to do something about it.
I have a mutilation addiction because hurting myself is the only thing I can control in my life right now.
When nothing goes right, at least I can distract myself with the pain. Â There’s something about concealing such a big secret that appeals to me as well. It’s a secret weapon I can have with me wherever I go. Â You may call me lazy, but you don’t know what I’m hiding under my clothes, and what I go through every day just to get out of bed.
My mom is going deaf. Â We don’t know when it will happen, but it’s going to happen very soon.
I can’t stand the thought of being a source of pain for her when she can’t hear my music anymore. Â She’s consumed with the thought of never being normal again, and it’s agony to watch her go through that.
I am a chronic liar
I lie about everything and anything. Â It pushes me further away from my family when I’m so fake, and makes it impossible for me to feel the real benefits of a good friendship.
I’m in love with an asshole who fed me lies the entire time we were dating, and continues to make me regret ever believing in him.
He strung me along so that he could get into my pants, and now he’s sleeping with my friends. Â I can’t get it out of my head that he’s perfect for me.
I’ve been taken advantage of my whole life.
People have the unfortunate habit of taking from me, usually without realizing what they’re doing. Â They come to me with their problems, because I’m good at fixing everyone else but myself. Â When I cry out for help sometimes it feels like nobody will listen or care. Â It makes me feel weak. Â I’m weakened when people use me for their own benefits and don’t really care about what happens to me afterwards. Â All of my guy “friends” have propositioned me, and a lot of the time I am too uncomfortable to say anything and that’s taken as a yes. I’m too weak to stop it, and a lot of the time I just don’t care enough to fight it. I just wait for it to be over.
I have the unfortunate ability to feel everyone’s pain, and shoulder everyone’s pain and even take the blame for it, when it isn’t my fault.
I always get involved and feel responsible for things that are out of my control. Â I can’t control how other people will behave, and when something happens that ends in pain for one side of the story, I blame myself for failing to predict the future.
I want to kill myself.
But, I don’t want to kill the spirit of my family and friends. Â Sometimes I look for professional help, but those moments are so short-lived that they hardly count for anything. Â It’s hard for me to walk over a bridge without jumping off. Â It’s hard for me to jump in the shower without taking my hairdryer in with me. Â I’m never selfish, I exist only because I want to prevent others from feeling the pain of my absence. Â I am a shell, I am nothing.