I feel like shit.
One of things I absolutely hate is the fact that we no longer live a normal life anymore.
My father is jobless, and my mother works freelance at the company where my dad used to work at. For months now, he’s been jobless and he’s been living with us in the apartment I’ve been using for college. Currently, he applied to some company abroad, whereas he’s been waiting for his papers’ approval. We’ve tried telling him to work at the company he worked at before but he absolutely hates it there, so no question about him wanting to go back otherwise it’d lead to another quarrel.
So, as much as possible I try to avoid it.
Not only would it lead to horrible screaming and banging, but it would also lead to me not wanting to give a fuck with life anymore—especially myself.
Mother had learned about my self-harming. She’s seen it herself.
It happened when my parents were fighting about my aunt. She’d been freeloading at our place for 6 months—used our money for gambling and other personal businesses which we don’t butt into just because. Somehow during that time, we’d been bankrupt, but we still managed to give money to the people in need. Then when the screaming got really intense, I was scratching my hands—the same hands that I need to use for a living—until they somehow bled. I never noticed.
Not thinking about the debts we have, mother still tried her best to bring money to the house despite it being father’s job. We’ve been keeping it a secret from him and god it’s been so damn difficult.
I can’t even let it out because mother might break down as well, knowing the strong child they have has given up.
I can’t cry. I can’t speak. I can’t bring myself to express it to anyone but myself.
I’ve tried talking to several people online, hoping they would give me advice. They called me a brat.
I’ve tried asking money from a couple of friends. They gave me. But I feel guilty for not having to pay them.
As much as I want to help, there’s nothing that I can do but to observe and do nothing.
That’s from the last page of my diary..
Things have gotten much worse.
It’s been a whole year since I’ve been keeping things bottled up, and a whole month since I’ve let things go.
I’ve resorted to self harming once again.
My friends have told me off that they understand I need relief, and that I should find an alternative like using rubber bands and hitting myself.
I used it. And it wasn’t the same.
I get nightmares.
And I’m possibly suffering from ‘delayed PTSD’ as what my therapist best friend told me.
I flinch at the simplest loud noises.
My heart palpitates when I hear screaming, and my memories of my father nearly committing suicide in front of me and my mother’s eyes are relived. The first time was at age 5. The second one just last year..
I can’t handle any more pressure, because I end up crying and shaking. And if it gets worse, I resort to cutting again.
I’ll be seeing a new counsellor on monday, and I’m scared he might judge me for all this..
This is my first post.. And that’s what’s on my mind so far..