It’s nearly midnight and what’s happening? The thoughts are returning…..The voices are speaking..no, YELLING at me >.< I can hear them now….. “Die ***** die!” “Who says you’re worth living?” “You don’t deserve to live. Your own parents didn’t even want you. HA!”
The thoughts destroy me, kill me, suffocate me, eat me alive. My demons…they’re real. They exist. I don’t want to go on but..I have to. Not just for myself. I’m not living for myself anymore. I’m living for him. And her. For them. They may not care about me but I love them with all my heart.
It’s like…I can scream at them and tell them to look at me and my scars and they would say nothing. I feel the only time where they’ll ever say that they truly loved me is when they’re standing above my freshly dug grave, placing flowers on the tombstone that reads: “Rebekah ****. Now, everybody loves me. March 20, 19**- December 1, 20*”.
Who would even care? My family won’t. It’s not like there’s someone out there who REALLY loves me. I don’t know true love and true love doesn’t care for a person like me. I’m too small for boys to like. “You’re adorable but your boobs are too small.” That’s ALWAYS the reason that they don’t ask me out.
The ones who have told me they loved me took what they wanted and left the next day. I despise the day when I meet someone I truly love and I find out that he’ll be nothing but another player that does what he wants, gets in my pants, between my thighs, and leaves without a trace.
I wonder what my grandmother would say if she found my body just lying here on the floor with this page open and this blog unpublished..would she cry? Be too shocked to speak? Publish this with a small eulogy at the bottom?
What about my body? Would I have hung myself? Maybe cut an artery? I would shoot myself if I had a gun. Would I have overdosed on her medicines or took a pill and downed a whole bottle of mouthwash (alcohol)? Would I sneak away one of her syringes and inject an air bubble into my system? I don’t know what I want to do anymore. All I know…..is that I don’t want to live anymore. Not really.
Well, I’m not alive actually. I died years ago…when that man did that thing to me that put me in this position. Suffering from a ton of different mental and eating disorders. It’s his fault for all of this. I hate him. With all my heart. I long for the day where I get the chance to murder him. My head is pounding. The voices are speaking. Cut. Cut. Cut. Die. Die. Die. Worthless. Worthless. Worthless.
I’m screaming for help but nobody’s listening…I can’t take this anymore!! I’m done!!