It’s been a year and I was better. I’m happy with the person I’m with.. Sooo happy… But my “mom” has now physically abused me multiple times. She is like an infected wound that just won’t heal, and won’t get better, only worse. I feel like smoking weed and drinking till I pass out, and I’ve never smoked, drunk, anything… Just goes to show that just because you’re blood related doesn’t mean you have to call them family…. F*ck me…
I’m unable to continue this miserable excuse for an existance. No one will wish I hadn’t and I have no will to live. I’m more than slightly sure that I do not deserve to piece myself through this meager existance. Goodnight everyone… See you in Hell….
I don’t know what to say, or how to say it. I’m scared of being home. I have been for a long time. I know it’s not abuse, because it’s not physical, but I’m getting worse again, and I’m scared to call CPS because they’ll see nothing wrong….
My mother, she says she cares, and only wants the best for me, but she says things with a hidden meaning. In other words, she says one thing, and she has a hidden meaning behind it. She’ll say things like “It’s so much easier shopping for your sister, because she is perfect for anything.” and means “You’re always a hassle.”. She says “You don’t fit into anything, nor do you look good in what you wear.” meaning I’m fat, and look ugly. She and my sister enjoy teasing me. My ‘mom’ gets mad if I try to get away from them, and hang out in my room, and she gets even more upset that I’m not in front of her to emotionally tear apart. What’s even worse, is that my mom plays ‘Poor pitiful me’ every time I try to talk to her.
My older sister has out right told me I look fatter. And always tells me I look stupid, or act stupid. She criticizes everything I do and say. She steals things, and blames it on me. She tells my ‘mom’ that I’ve done something I haven’t just to get me into trouble.
My younger sister, on the other hand, is a ‘perfect-little-angel’ who can do no wrong in anybody’s eyes. She sits around and plays on the computer. She only gets up to eat and go to the bathroom.. On occasion. Oh! And lets not forget, if I try to change the channel on ‘her’ T.V., I literally get scratched and hit, and have things thrown at me (remotes, food, silverware, dishes, you name it she probably has.)
When I was a kid (3-12) my sisters would literally throw crap at me, hit me, kick me, steal things from me, taunt me, tease me, anything, just because. Guess who got into trouble? Me. No surprise there…
My ‘father’, the last time I saw him, which was a few weeks ago, he yelled at me because I tripped over his ‘very expensive cable.’ and I fell. Every Sunday, he would get into a huge argument with me. Example: Mother’s Day I had cuts on my arm because I am a self-harmer, and he told me, and I quote, “Just get it over with and kill yourself. We won’t miss you.” then proceeded to back me into a corner, while I was crying my eyes out, and threatened to physically hurt me, call CPS on me because I am ‘unmanageable’ and call the cops on me because I was ‘suicidal’. So I ran out the front door, and he ran after me and basically held me down as he yelled at me about how all the neighbors would be calling the cops and CPS on me. The whole time, my mom watched without saying a word.
I don’t know what to do. I feel like I should call CPS because this has happened all my life, but they’ve never physically abused me so they would have no evidence. I’ve tried to kill myself 3 times in the past 2 years because I’m so depressed and I hate myself and I can’t do anything right. My anxiety level is crazy high, and I’m scared to go out into public places. I’m 15, and I literally have no one.. I’m so scared to live, because the pain is too much. I almost killed myself two nights ago, because I’m so tired of all this..
I’m stupid to think he would ACTUALLY want me….. WHY? Why does this always happen to me? I can’t even fucking CRY! He won’t talk to me, and he is with a new one. I warned her this time, because that f*cking b*tch is not worth her time. Not worth anyone’s time. He deserves to be alone. Sorry, but you don’t do this kinda crap to ANYONE. And I’m so tired of being used like this! I’m good until you get what you want and then you move on until you’re tired of them. Then where are you? Back to me because they won’t give you what you want… Why am I so stupid to believe him when he said he loves me..? Why? I’m just.. I’m so done with being hurt.. I haven’t cut in 2 weeks and am craving my blade.. Oh look.. Here it comes… Slicing into my skin so…. Perfectly…. I’m sorry.. I’m so sorry… I can’t do this anymore…. I’m so tired of pretending I’m okay… And no, you can try, but I doubt you’ll be able to stop me from releasing my pain….
Hey guys.. Well it’s been awhile and I just wanted to say yeah… I’m cutting deeper… I just kindof wanna rant so I guess I will haha ^-^’… Well let me start by saying that it’ll be my 5th year cutting in August 2014 and I’m pretty addicted… My past was horrible but I mean I’m sure yours was worse…. :/ :c well anyways currently my family (Mother and one of my sisters and I) can’t even buy food… Not even from the dollar menu! Our family other than us three is so rich the give no frucks about us. It’s pretty sa when the person who givesbirth to you is ignored and only your cousins are cared about. Because they have money. (That would be my dumb older sister.) oh god. You think I’m kidding when I say dumb. No. I’m seriously not. She’s a stupid,greedy B*TCH. At least my little sister is a skinny b*tch. So anyways, I clearly have nothing going for me as even my family will ‘subtley hint’ I’m a worthless piece of sh*t that’s fat and really only a slave to wash and clean and clean and wash when I’m not in school. My only support rught now is my amazing boyfriend who has been there for me even before we were dating. He really is amazing. I need help. I really feel as if I need to die and yes, I really am not a poser or an attention whore as I have been struggling with depression(Major Depression Disorder) and Bi-Polar most of my life now :/. Well guys. I’m done for now.. I think I’ll make a new set of cuts..
My hands are shaking. My heart is breaking. I know I’ve lost you. You say I’ve moved on but I know I haven’t. I’m just not okay. I’m not happy. I’m not.. ANYTHING. I have my rope, waiting to slip around my neck and for me to take that plunge.. And I feel numb. Nothing. I know I hate myself. I know a lot of things. But nothing compares to the knowledge of my love for you. I know it sounds stupid, but it’s the truth. You are my soul mate and I will die without you. I can’t talk to you because you freak out and I just don’t think I’ll make it to my birthday. I just… I just… No. I can’t think. I can barely breathe. Something? No. You. You are missing. and nothing will ever be the same without you.
Please don’t judge me guys.. I’m not freaking out over a lost boyfriend. I’m not even freaking out. I’m completely calm in all this. I even have a plan..
I, simply, deserve to die.
They bring up memories. They bring up pain. They bring up the past. There is no gain. Only loss. I want to cry so badly right now. And I feel– Know– nobody cares. You may say you do, but I know the truth. I look at my screensaver, I read them. Obesity. I’ll always be it. Ugly. I’ll always feel it. Depression. I’ll never outgrow it. Stupid person saying he can make everything better. But guess what happened last time someone said that?? “I… Kinda met…. Someone.” Then he left. He never talks to me anymore. I didn’t want to be in a relationship. That’s not what upsets me. What upsets me is that he said he’d make things better and always be there for me, yet where the hell is he? Then the first guy brings up bad memories of everyone saying they cared and leaving me. And I tell him that I can’t be happy and he tells me he will. I need to trust him. Yeah. What the fuck ever. God, if you’re there, kill me now. Strike me down. Bludgen me to death. KILL ME. I CAN’T DO THIS ANYMORE. I don’t even have anymore tears. I don’t have a point. Maybe, just maybe, my point is to die. My point is to make a point to people about what the fuck of a wimp and a child I am that I’m so WEAK as to kill myself. Or maybe I have no point. And weak people break. I’m surpr- never mind, I’m only here BECAUSE I’m weak. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. FUCK. I HATE MYSELF. I WANT TO GET A SHARP RAZOR AND CUT MY ARM OPEN. I WANT TO HANG FROM A TREE. I WANT TO SHOOT MYSELF IN THE HEAD. I WANT TO DIEEEE!!!!!
Like anyone actually gives a fuck about an ugly fat ass 14 year old… I act as if someone actually DOES.. But no one does… Don’t say you fucking do. I’m not an idiot. It’s just an act. Hell. I could’ve hung myself today and my teacher would’ve felt guilty! For what? NOTHING! BECAUSE NOBODY GIVES A FUCK! NOBODY CARES! NOBODY WANTS ME AROUND! I might as well be fucking DEAD. I’m just a fucking ANNOYANCE. Everyone says differently, BUT I KNOW IT’S TRUE BY THE WAY THEY ACT. “Actions speak louder than words” they say. 14 years and I’m JUST now realizing that nobody cares? WOW I’M SUCH A FUCKING IDIOT!! I’m so angry and depressed and worthless. I DESERVE TO DIE! I want to cry so badly, but I WASTED my tears on MOTHERFUCKERS who I thought CARED. I just want to leave this painful word. It’ll be BETTER for everyone. No one will have to worry about the ‘fun-sized’ 5′ 1″, green eyed, stupid ass blonde. Oh, and I’m Fucking German, making me a fucking NAZI. I HATE PEOPLE!!! THEY’RE SO JUDGEMENTAL THEY ALWAYS WANT SOMETHING AND THEY DONT GIVE A FUCK ABOUT YOU!!!!!!
What the hell is the point in living huh? Answer me that. I’m fucking done. I’m fucking DONE. I’M FUCKING DONE WITH YOU BITCHES!!! IT’S OVER!! I HATE LIFE!! I HATE LIVING! I HATE PEOPLE! I HATE FOOD! I HATE EVERYTHING!! I JUST WANT TO DIE ALREADY…… Fuck…. Sorry for being such an inconvenience. Sorry for ‘yelling’. Sorry for wasting your time. Sorry for LIVING.
Will I have the guts tonight to send myself over the edge? Fueled by my hate for life, and my ‘best friend’ calling me spoiled. I’m pampered I guess.. Because I get more than her? I guess so. If I decide yes, why do I keep choosing Thursdays? If I do choose this night to die, I’m going to fill myself with hateful words, everything that’s been said to me, everything I’ve thought, and the fact that I’m a fat ass who deserves to die.
A Cutter’s Lullaby:
Go to sleep and close your eyes,
And dream of broken butterflies
That tore their wings against a thorn.
You know the pain that they have endured
Silver metal shine so bright
Scarlet blood that feels so right.
Dream of that blood trickling down,
And wake up just before you drown.
The moonlight shining off your tears
As you bleed out your worst fears.
So tonight when you start to cry
Whisper the cutters lullaby:
Hushabye baby, youre almost dead
You dont have a pulse and your pillow is red.
Your family hates you
Your friends let you bleed
Sleep tight with a knife,
Cause its all that you need.
Rockabye baby, Broken and scarred,
You didnt know life would be this hard.
Time to end the pain you hid so well
And down youll come baby,
Back home to hell
Tortured.Â Yet not. WhyÂ do I feel so alone. Why do I still want to die. Why. Why. I’m a why kind of girl. Why don’t you care? Why does everyone hate me? Why do people lie when I know the truth? I carry around that noose.. Waiting for something to set me off. Waiting for that perfect timing to set in. Wanting it to be now instead of later. When the time comes.. Will I do it? Will I jump? Will I fall? I mean.. I’ve already fallen. And hit the ground hard. I’m broken. And people say I have no fucking reason to hate myself. But I still do. Which makes no sense. I just want to die. I don’ want people to pity me. I don’t want people to tell me I’m stupid for feeling the way I do. I don’t want people to take me down. I want to fall down myself. I want to… Jump myself. I want to.. Die… I went through therapy.. It didn’t help. I’ve been 4 times. 4 TIMES. Why am I not better? To me, this is a sign I’m SUPPOSED to die. To commit Suicide. Well.. Suicide to me is such an interesting word.. Sometimes a bad one.. Sometimes a good one… Sometimes beautiful.. Sometimes ugly.
Do people care if I die? No. Why do people say suicide is “Mature content” when it happens to freaking 8 year olds!? Why is an 8 year old more successful than me? Why can’t I die? Why didn’t I die that one day when I moved from the spot the car landed before it got there? Why didn’t the pills work? Why can’t I cut with a knife? Why? Why? Why? What’s the point of life? What’s the point of living? So others can feed off of me? I don’t think so. I think we live to die.Well, I believe that it’s my time to die. I want to die. And now I will try as hard as I can to do so. Maybe I’m addicted to death. To near-death experiences at least. Maybe I want that black oblivion forever. Maybe I want to live… No. I can’t live any longer. I want to die. That’s something I AM sure about. This is no one’s fault, yet it’s everyone’s fault. Liers are fake. People are fake. I will be REAL. I will show them that I am weak and that I am a nothing. They will forget about me. They will not care. They will not remember. They will only have that nagging feeling in the back of their heads telling them it’s their fault.Â
Goodbye. Goodbye. Goodnight. Goodbye. Good riddance… Missing someone? Yeah.. No. No one will miss me. No one really cares. No one really knows what happened to me… It’s not like I even really know.. I will never lie.. But I will never tell the truth… Because it is painful.. But then again.. Why do you care? Why does it matter to you? Why are you even reading this far? Let me rephrase that: Why would you ever care to read to the end? Ahh… Well… I can still post…. AttheEnd… I don’t know what to do… I don’t have a point… I don’t have a reason.. I don’t have anything to hold onto, yet I still am….
2 days and I’m walking out of the school gates. To that bridge. I will tie the rope, tightly. I will tie the other end around my neck. I will jump. I’m not afraid. It WILL work. Or so help me I WILL resort to shooting myself.
I want to cry. I feel so horrible- yet so okay. But I’m not okay. I’m not happy. I’m a horrible person. I’m unhappy. I’m stupid. I’m worthless. I’m done.
Will tonight be the night I jump off that bridge? Will tonight be the night I run away? Will tonight be the night I finish myself off? Will tonight be the night I cut so deep that I bleed to death? I don’t know. But I hope so.
I don’t know why I feel like this- but I guess I do. I have so many questions.
Why me? When is it my turn to die? What’s my purpose?????? Why does anyone say they care when their actions say they don’t… What’s the point of life? What’s the point of death? What’s the point?
Why am I a slut? What makes me a whore? Why did I cheat on him? Why don’t I care? Why? Why? WHY?
I want to tell everyone what happened to me.. But how can I when I’m still afraid of myself?? Who could I trust to not laugh?? Who would cry with me?? Who would get me through the bad times? Some person I don’t really know? Can I tell the school I was Â bullied… That I need their support on Day of Silence?? That I need them to understand when no one else will??
This girl, she’s a cutter. She’s scarred to the max on her wrist. She has ‘DIE’ carved into her left thigh, forever present. The pain is everlasting. This girl, she is 14. She had a life, but a horrible one.
It starts out with no one. Only the sound of screaming and fighting, late at night, during the day, early morning. She was young when it started. She was 6 when she heard a slap. It terrified her. “What’s going on?” She thought countless times, climbing into her closet, the farthest, darkest corner, hiding under everything and crying.
School begins when she is 5. Immediantly, people point out every difference in the book. She wasn’t skinny so she was fat. She wasn’t cute, so she was ugly. She wasn’t smart so she was stupid. She was “worthless”,”pointless”. She wasn’t this so she was that. Anything and everything negative was her.Â She hadn’t done anything to this population of kids, but just being alive was wrong in their eyes. They were as nasty as possible. Constantly, she was belittled. She had but one friend, Nazareth, but even she was inconsiderate. She remembers going to the park with her mom, and finding a full on birthday party going on, hosted by none other than that friend, Nazzie. She had not been invited. No biggie, really, except that she was supposed to be her best friend.
7 years passed. She was continuously, constantly bullied, yet she was never brave enough to speak up. 6th grade started and she was completely alone. The first person she met, named Rebecca, was also a bullied loner. They were imediantly friends. A new girl joined their small party, named Tabitha. In October of that year, her father, who she was really close to, left. When he left, he pushed her away from giving him a hug. At the end of the year, one of her main bullies admitted he loved her at a dance.
7th grade started. She mourned for her father. She started dating her ex-bully. They soon broke up, and she could no longer take it. She took a safety pin to her arm and scratched and scratched until she bled. She passed it off as a scrap, and, later, took apart a shaving razor, slowly, at first, slicing through the skin on her wrist. She relished in the pain, repeating the offensive act.
8th grade came. She got back with her first love, the one who had made her cut, and kissed him first. To her, it was special. She loved that moment. First great moment ever for her. Besides cutting, that is. She continued to cut. At the end of the school year, she was riding the overcrowded school bus, and people began calling out rudely to her. “Lypo! Lypo girl!” “You’re so fat you needÂ liposuction!” “Lyoo girl is the ugliest whore on the planet!” Those are just a few of the things they called to her. Soon, she began cutting deeper and deeper. She hated herself and she was more than beginning to believe she was fat, a whore, a slut, a *****, ugly, in need of liposuction. She despised herself.
9th grade came, and October revived itself. The 23rd, she ODed on Tylonel. Â 17 pills exactly. She was sent to the ER, and taken to Laurel Ridge in San Antonio, Texas for 5 days. When she was discharged, she sliced, once again, into her arm. Her best friend Shawn saw. He told her not to do it again. She asked why, and he just said because he cared.
In January, she went back to Laurel Ridge for cutting and suicidal thoughts, begging and pleading to admit herself.
You think that’s bad? Well, not even a month later, she sliced into the vein in the girl’s bathroom at school. She bled onto the floor and dripped blood down her hand and to the floor, trying to stop the bleeding.. She went into the classroom and sat down, finally stopping the flow. She repeated herself for a week.
February 28th she ODed again. This time on her sleeping medication. She went to school the next day, and in science class, seeing her best friend Shawn was horrible, she felt so guilty. When asked why she was tired by him, she just responded ‘I’m sorry. You don’t want to know.’ A few minutes later, she was checked out. It was 11:53.
She was taken to Laurel Ridge for 7 days, then to a treatment center for 1 month and 4 days.
I am scarred, and I hate myself. I regret cutting. I regret everything.
I tried to kill myself… For the second time… I just returned from a long term treatment center 4 days ago… I wish I hadn’t done it… I wish I hadn’t cut so deeply.. I have SO many scars.. How will I hide them? Why am I ashamed of them? Why do I still want to cut, even though I’m soooo much better?? I already carved cutter into my leg….
I took the pills….
24 posts and I’m still not okay.
24 posts and I still want to die…
24 posts and everything is the same.
23 posts and my life got a bit better.
23 posts and my life changed a bit.
23 posts and I’m still a cutter.
22 posts and nothing’s the same.
22 posts and I want to disappear.
22 posts and nothing will change.
21 posts and 21 days.
21 posts and 3 weeks.
21 posts and I’m still a stray.
20 posts and he won’t give in.
20 posts and he won’t forget.
20 posts, a multiple of ten.
19 posts and I’m ready for the end.
19 posts and I’m forgetful.
19 posts and I want my death to begin.
18 posts and nothing’s the same.
18 posts and trust is slipping.
18 posts and this is what I’ve became.
17 posts and people are insane.
17 posts and no on cares.
17 posts and I’m loosing to the pain.
16 posts and I’m a waste.
16 posts and nothing makes me happy.
16 posts and you’re practically paste.
15 posts and pain is my game.
15 posts and cutting is fun.
15 post and no one’s read this far in.
15 posts and the war has just begun.
14 posts and I’m almost to the end.
14 posts and I’m ready to die.
14 posts and I’m ready to live.
13 posts and everyone’s forgot.
13 posts and I’m losing my game.
13 posts and I’m just another ink blot.
12 posts and I’ve nothing more to say.
12 posts a multiple of 6.
12 posts, I’ve been called gay.
11 posts, I’m a btch.
11 posts I’m a priss.
11 posts I’m a witch.
10 posts, I’ve been counting down.
10 posts and I want to cut.
10 posts and I want to drown.
9 posts, I’m almost there.
9 posts, I’m almost gone.
9 posts, not a single tear.
8 posts, a perfect number.
8 posts, a perfect slumber.
7 posts, at a loss for words.
7 posts, look at the ugly birds.
6 posts, I am ugly.
6 posts, I am worth nothing.
5 posts, a count from here.
5 posts, a count from there.
4 posts, just a single one.
3 posts, just some time alone.
2 posts, almost gone.
1 post, I. Am. Done.
As a kid I was quiet and went unnoticed except when my father yelled at me. When I started kindergarten at age 5, the bullying started. Name calling.. Being called *****, stupid, whore, dumbass… The list goes on.. Being pushed around and used. People telling me they’re my friends then using me for my smarts and putting me down as fat and ugly.. At 12 I fell into love and was ignored and forgotten. At 11 my father abandoned us…
As a teen I am quiet and hide myself. At 13 I fell in love again, my mother found out about the 19 year old and I was rejected by him. He ignores me. At 14 (My current age) I fell in love twice. Both ignore me. Forgetting all the great, amazing times we had, the love we shared. At 15 I am supposed to learn to drive, 16 driving, 17 graduate, 18 be an adult and go to college.
24, graduate. 25, who knows what after that. But I will never make it that far. Because I will die at 15.