I told her every day how hard it was for me to trust her. Every single day. I trusted her so little. Not because I didn’t want to trust her, but because I’m fucking paranoid. I told her everyday how hard it was. Every day. Every day until she. Every day until. Every. She left me. It’s been 6 days now. Almost a whole week. It hurts so much, and I want to cry, but… I can’t cry. I just can’t. I can’t I can’t I can’t I ca n t… I don’t have any words to say. I loved her so much. More than anyone or anything before. And then… it’s all my fault. All of it is my fault. She, I. I couldn’t trust her and then I started becoming delusional even though I knew that it wasn’t possible I couldn’t trust her. Why? Why couldn’t I trust her? She was the ONLY REASON I DIDNT KILL MYSELF SO WHY. WHY. ITS LIKE THIS EVERY TIME I FIND SOMEONE I LIKE. I JUST PUSH THEM AWAY. FUCK. I hate myself. I hate myself so much. It’s so painful to live, and the only thing I have left for is just the hope that she comes back to me. I don’t know how I let myself be so in love with her. I mean. I found her at the exact same time as my friends gave up on me pretty much. And now. Now I don’t have anyone. All my friends got tired of putting up with me, and my girlfriend left me because I pushed her away from me. Why can’t I just be like everyone else? It just looks so easy for everyone. And then there’s me. My life has just been a constant battle for the past year, and I’m kind of starting to give in. I don’t have anything left to live for. I don’t see why I should. Even try. It doesn’t seem worth it. It’s too painful. And I know… I know that it’s not going to get better anytime soon. How much fucking time and money will my family waste on me before they give up too? I mean, I’ve talked to a therapist but I can’t bring myself to trust a stranger with sensitive information, even though it’s “completely confidential”, because I’ve read and heard so many stories about therapists abusing their clients or laughing at them behind their backs that I really… really can’t bring myself to trust any therapist at all. I mean, my head is just a mess right now. I can’t make sense of anything, and it gets worse every day. Me being extremely paranoid doesn’t help at all. It feels like no matter what I do, I will always end up hurting myself. And I’m not mentally capable of faking anything right now. The best thing I can do is hide my face and not talk. I’ve always been so afraid of being judged. I dropped out of school recently. I only went back to school about 3 weeks ago to say goodbye to my friends. I didn’t have the courage to tell them though. I couldn’t bring myself to look my friends in the eyes and tell them that I was going to kill myself and that there was nothing they could do to change my mind. I really did think that I was going to, but then I didn’t, and instead I started feeling hollow. Even though I technically didn’t die… a part of me did. I was going to kill myself on March 25. Now I put the date at August 3. I don’t think that anyone is going to stop me this time. I mean. It’s not like anyone cares about me. Everyone just tells me that they’re tired of putting up with my bullshit, or that they are worried about me. Either way, I don’t trust people when they say positive things about me. I can’t bring myself to believe that there could be anything good about me. I think I probably deserve this. I mean, it’s my own fault. I did this to myself. There’s no one else to blame. I could blame my girlfriend… Actually no, I couldn’t. I still love her too much to blame anything on her. I don’t know if it would have been better or worse if I never met her. I probably would have convinced myself not to die… or maybe not. I mean that day, was. I didn’t feel sad at all. It was more like I had a duty to fulfill, and I didn’t fulfill that duty. And then I felt, hollow. Weird. Not really empty. More like… I wasn’t whole. Like some parts of me had just been taken away. And I still feel like that. It’s weird to me, how, if I’m going to have a bad day, or a day where every day after that day it gets considerably worse, I always know 3 days ahead of the time. I never know what will happen that day. I just know that I will feel decent, and every day after will be worse. March 25, April 4, March 5 and 17, were days like that. On March 5, I had a panic attack, and I cried for like 3 hours because I felt so useless and incapable after going to school for one day and feeling like absolute fucking shit. On March 25, I was left alone in my house, completely alone, and I cried for hours. Then, I played some video games. It didn’t make me feel better. But, I feel the best when there is no one that can hear, see, touch, or smell me. I hate when there’s even a possibility of anyone being near me. Not because I don’t like people. But because I can only be myself when I am completely alone. When I’m not alone and I act like myself, people judge me. They say I’m weird, they say they don’t understand me. Why should they understand me? It pisses me off. I get offended. I don’t like getting offended. So I don’t like being around other people because there is always something that irritates me. There’s always at least one thing that I just can’t stand about someone. Which is why I like acting shallow so they don’t show the side of themselves that makes me irritated. But when I get close to someone… It’s not that they irritate me. It’s just that because they know they know me even a little bit… I see them as a threat. A threat that I either have to control, or remove, before it becomes too big. That’s why I pushed all my friends away from me. That’s why I pushed my girlfriend away from me. That’s why I can never get to know anyone. I see them as a threat, and I either want them to get away from me, or be completely submissive to me. Now that I think about it, the only friendships I ever had when I was a kid I established through beating other kids up and telling them that if they didn’t hang out with me I would beat them up more, and if they told their parents or a teacher, I would also beat them. So I guess, I’ve never had any friends. Until recently, anyway. But can you really call someone a friend if you can’t trust them at all no matter how hard they try? I mean, I’m the problem. I thought some more about my girlfriend today. I literally think about her every day, even now that she stopped talking to me. I talked to one of the people that I guess I could call a friend that I haven’t really pushed away yet, who was also a friend of my girlfriend, but well… She stopped talking to him too. I think she doesn’t talk to anyone anymore. That’s how much I hurt her. I don’t even know why I entered a relationship in the first place. I knew that I wasn’t mature enough to handle that sort of thing. But well. She definitely was. She was the only person I’ve ever met apart from like one guy that really accepted me for who I was. Most people think that “the real me” is the false image of myself that I project in public while I pretend to be okay. But that part of me isn’t even a whole person. It’s just a charming character that’s extremely shallow and doesn’t have any interests at all. I mean, the whole point of that character is to maintain social relations with classmates and teachers without seeming like an interesting person so I guess it’s fine if I act that way in public. But the problem is, my family members think that that person is the real me. It’s not. It’s extremely mentally exhausting for me to maintain that character, which is basically perfect, and it gives me a huge headache and tons of anxiety after. I mean, I can’t maintain it for a whole day at school even. I used to be able to. I used to be able to maintain that character constantly, I guess you vould say it’s “the best version of myself”, but really it’s just like the skin of a snake. I shed it as soon as I am alone. I didn’t use to though. I used to be that character full time, every single day. Until I was around 14 years old. Then I started slowly breaking down. For just a few minutes at a time. I mean, you can’t maintain a perfect personality, that’s just not human. Or maybe it was just that I faced some kind of pain… I don’t know. But anyway, that character started slowly disappearing and getting consumed by… what I would call the real me. Which is a child, really. A spoiled child, quick to irritate, slow to forgive, impatient, untrusting, manipulative, angry, full of hate towards both himself and everyone around him. I don’t like either of those two, and most of the time I’m just… the manifestation of the exhaustion that results from having to deal with those characters constantly arguing with each other inside of my head. So really, I don’t understand, which one of these three is the real me? Maybe there are even more characters that I don’t even know of. I mean, most days I feel like I’m just an observer and someone else is controlling my body while I watch the theater play unfolding inside of my head. But either way, my girlfriend just accepted all of this. I don’t know how. I guess she just really loved me. I for some reason don’t really miss her anymore. Even though I actually do. I mean, I love her, but I also hate her, and feel completely indifferent, at the same time. But the main thing I feel when I think about her is guilt and regret. I don’t regret having the relationship. I learned a lot of valuable lessons. I just regret how it ended. Because it was all my fault. And I feel so guilty. I couldn’t be honest with myself, so I couldn’t be honest with her, so I started projecting, and then I started getting delusional, and I thought, “she is going to leave me”, so I gave her an ultimatum and she chose to leave me. Actually, I’m not sure I even gave her any choice. I just pushed her away, like I do with everyone else. That’s the one thing I hate about my family. It’s impossible to push them away from me. I wanted to get away from them, and I saw my girlfriend as the way out. I wanted to spend the rest of my life with her. Even though I met her just, not even two months ago. And now. I just regret. I regret not showing her that I loved her more. Maybe if I had done that. Maybe. Maybe she wouldn’t have left me alone. Even when I was so obsessed with her. I mean, she was pretty much all I thought about, so because of the way my head works I was bound to hate her, even if it was just for one hour. Then the next hour, indifferent. Then the next hour, completely obsessed. Just so extremely in love, really. Then the next hour, forget about her completely. And that’s how it was like for me, every day of my relationship with her. I honestly don’t know what’s wrong with me. I took the most valuable thing I had in my life, the woman that saved my life. And I told her she was worthless to me. That I couldn’t trust her. That I hated her. I can never, and will never forgive myself for that. If she ever gave me a second chance… I doubt she will. But if she did. I would take it without a second thought. Because I still love her so fucking much. It was just… I was just angry at her because I was angry at myself and I started projecting the way I felt about myself onto her. I couldn’t help it. It would be great if it actually was that way. But I know the truth. I definitely could have helped it. I would have never done it… It’s not like me to do something like that. I told her I never wanted to hurt her, that I would never hurt her. And then. Then I did. I’m so sorry. I wish I could tell her that. I’m so so sorry. But maybe this is just a character. Maybe I don’t really feel this way at all. Maybe it’s just something that I imagined. I mean. Was I dreaming? Am I dreaming right now? I. I don’t know. I know that when I tell myself I’m dreaming it’s to cope with an extreme amount of sadness or anxiety because I don’t want to show it to anyone. Why can’t I just be honest with myself? Why was I here? What was I doing? I don’t know what this is about. I don’t know what. I’m so high right now. I feel so light. Like I’m going to start floating any second. I feel so free. So free from all the pain. I want to feel like this forever. I don’t feel happy or sad or angry or calm or apathetic I just feel… light. Like I’m floating on a cloud. I don’t even have any problems. I can’t remember any problems I had. I feel so great right now! I feel so happy! I shoukd celebrate I want to vomit. I feel sick. My head hurts. Ow. It’s really painful. My eyes hurt. My stomach hurts. My stomach hurts a lot. I’m sick. I feel sick. I feel tired. I feel so sick. My chest hurts. My heart is pounding really hard. OW. My chest really hurts. It’s painful. My fingers hurt too. My wrists hurt. My whole body hurts. I’m tired.
FUUUUUUUUUUUUUUCK. It just doesn’t go away. I miss her. I miss her. I miss her so much. I miss her so fucking much. I don’t care anymore. I just want to be with her. I would do anything for a second chance. I would do anything to go back in time and erase my mistakes. I would do anything. Anything! Is it even possible? I mean, I love her and she did love me. I wonder if she still loves me. I wonder if she misses me as much as I miss her. I hope she does. Not because I want her to suffer, but because I want her to come back to me. I feel so lost and lonely without her. I couldn’t make sense of anything before and now it’s even worse. It gets worse every day. I have fucking 5 family members that care about me. And I still feel so fucking alone whenever I think about her. And I think about her all the time. Literally all the time. I would do anything to spend time with her again. But I can’t. I can’t do anything. I can’t. I can’t. I can’t. I can’t. I can’t. I just. I LOVE HER SO MUCH AND THERES NOTHING I CAN DO. FUCK. FUCK. FUCK. I. I CANT. I CANT SLEEP. I CAN BARELY EAT BUT NOTHING TASTES GOOD ANYMORE. IM ALWAYS TIRED. I HATE LIVING. I HATE LIFE. I HATE IT I HATE IT I HATE IT I HATE IT HATE IT HATE I HATE TI HATE HATE I HATE IT HATE HATE I HATE IT I HATE IT HATE IT I HATE LIFE HATE LIFE I HATE FUCKING HATE LIFE SO MUCH I WISH I WAS DEAD I WISH I WAS FUCKING DEAD SO I WOULD NEVER HAVE TO FEEL ANYTHING AGAIN