bleak thoughts.

I wrote this June 3rd 2010. But idk...thought I'd post it now... whatevs

My left leg hurts.

Today I cut myself. 5 times on my left leg.

I think they were pretty deep.

They were still bleeding slightly, hours later.

And they hurt like hell right now.

I got a speeding ticket today.

And for some reason, I couldn’t stop crying afterwards.

I had to relieve the pain.

Luckily I had my exacto in my purse.

And just like that, I was cutting again.

It was almost a month.

Almost a month without self inflicted physical harm.

And the last time, wasn’t even a cut.

It was just my finger tracing a line on my arm.

A nervous habit?

No. I needed the pain.

I could feel the wetness as I was scrapping, and I kept digging

Harder and faster.

It's almost healed now.

Today I got a speeding ticket.

And I cut my left leg 5 times.

I spent the rest of the trip in silence.

Except for the harsh sounds of my open fist

Slapping my face as hard as I could.

Over and over.

Sometimes I do that.

I hit myself because sometimes the cutting

Just isn’t enough.

Nothing is ever enough.

And by nothing, I mean everything.

The cutting is not enough.

The hitting is not enough.

I am not enough.

I’m really light headed

All day today really.

And my eyelids are heavy.

And my limbs are heavy.

I feel like I am sleepwalking.

I always feel like I'm sleepwalking.

Just put me out of my misery.

Please just put me out of my misery.

It hurts.

Everything hurts.

So please.

Just put me out of my goddamn misery.

marionette.

How can one single person make one feel so incredibly happy one moment, and then devastatingly sad the next?

I hate how the people you love the most (or even the guys you like etc.) can hurt you the worst. I was having a conversation with a friend, and they said that (well without the parenthesis). Funny thing is that I’ve thought that exact thought so so so many times. Although this person was talking about love. And in my life, it has more just been about silly boys.

But anyways, I hate it. How can a boy, a boy that may not mean anything in the span of my life, have that much control over my emotions? Although I will say, I overanalyze like crazy. I pick apart every little thing. Every text, every lack of text, what people say, how they say it etc. And every little detail is illuminated. Something that normal people see as miniscule, or don’t even see at all can be ten feet high for me.

It’s not like I want this to happen. I want to be happy. I fake being happy sometimes, thinking maybe if I fake it for a while it will become real. And sometimes it works. Well I suppose most times it works. That is, until I’m alone again. Late at night. In my bedroom. In my car. When everyone has gone home, or when everyone’s sleeping, it’s then when how I really feel comes to the surface. I hate this feeling. I hate it and I cannot for the life of me escape it.

When is this ever going to end?