help me.

I feel sick to my stomach.

Literally sick to my stomach.

For some odd reason I've been thinking about something that happened to me

over a year ago.

It's heavy, I know it's heavy.

And I cant bring myself to talk about it to anyone. I've talked a little bit about it with my friend Kajsa, but that's it.

And for some reason it's constantly on my mind now.

I dont know why. Why now??

It has bothered me before but NEVER EVER EVER to this extent.

I am so confused.

And I cant really talk to anyone.

It's beyond myself.

Beyond my self harm.

This involves another person.

And I am just so confused.

What happened?

What did I do?

Did I even do anything?

I need to talk about this to someone.

But I cant.

burnt.

I dont really feel like spilling my feelings out in the open right now.

I dont feel in the mood to blog.

But I cant keep this inside.

Saturday night was bad.

So bad that I burnt myself three times on my wrist with lit cigarettes.

I just needed to feel. I needed to feel something. And while it hurt a little bit, I still felt nothing.

All rational thought goes out the window when I get into that state of mind.

I feel like I am literally going crazy.

Anyways, I held the cigarettes there until they burnt out. I got huge blisters and they all popped. I started to get scared.

It didnt hurt that bad at the time, but after a few days it felt like my arm was going to fall off.

I went home. Told my parents. And have never felt more shame in my entire life.

I have 3 third degree burns on my wrist. Three. The burns now are waxy white from the necrotic tissue that has surfaced. And it needs to come off so I can heal. My wrist hurts, but the burns do not. It's because of the third degree burns, the nerve endings are destroyed.

I feel so many things right now.

Shame. Sadness. Deep depression. And oddly, proud.

I cant explain it, but it doesnt make me feel the least bit normal. I feel crazy.

So I guess that's it. That's all I really have to say.

I'm numb,

yet emotional.

But mostly, I just feel nothing.

Nothing at all.

giving up for now

I think I might be giving up on this for a while.

My intent for this blog was to write out my feelings at the moment,

to have an open journal.

But recently I found out that sometimes it's just used as a way to

judge.

That makes me extremely sad.

So for now I will keep to myself

or trust my thoughts with my true friends.

grey area

I guess I'm in a "grey area" with Bryce.

We broke up, but we're still sorta together.

I dont know why this is so hard.

I think that we should just be done.

To just call it what it is.

But there's still a small part of me that's hanging on.

All of those things set aside...

I dont know how I feel about my life right now.

I think...

I'm not happy

nor sad.

Perhaps I'm in a "grey area" in my life as well.

I want to be happy.

Someday, I want to be happy.

I'm just not too sure of what to do with my life at this point

where to go.

And I feel so so very misplaced.

Where did all my friends go?

While I have many acquaintances

many "friends"

I dont really feel close to any of them.

And that makes me very very sad.

I feel confused

and lost

but at the same time

I feel..

...nothing.

To Bryce.

It’s hard right now. And it’ll be hard for a little bit but it will slowly start to get better. And the next girl. The girl after me…well I’ll hate her…but she’s going to make you realize that you and I weren’t so good after all. And you can look back at me and smile, knowing that I’m still heartbroken…and you’ll get a tiny bit of satisfaction because you’ve found something better and now you can hurt me instead of me always hurting you. And I will be happy for you, or at least I'll try. And you know as well as I do, that I will kick myself and say that I missed out. I know I have. But it needed to be done. It would’ve just happened anyways. But it wont matter then. Because you will have moved on…and I will still be stuck here. Stuck in the past.

[what I can't say to him]

idk

I dont know what to do.

I feel discouraged by a lot of things right now.

And I dont know what to do.

So for now.

I'm sitting on my bed.

Starring at my computer.

Bleeding from my arm.

I want to go to sleep.

but I cant move.

I cant do anything.

It's bad

When you actually WANT

to go to a mental institution.

When you think it'd be good for you.

It's become a daily thing

where I think about suicide,

in at least ten different ways.

I think about it a lot.

And I almost...

crave it.

It's like a deep deep desire

of mine

to die.

Living to die?

Living to die.

stress

And I feel sick

sick to my stomach

and dizzy in my head

and also

as if something or someone has

taken over my body.

It doesnt feel mine anymore.

Lately I have been so stressed out. About school

Dying relatives

Boy troubles

Kaylee and her cancer

But mostly just school

and Bryce.

It's getting to the point where I physically cannot deal anymore. And it's taking a toll on my body. Vomiting.

Vomiting in random places at random times because the stress has taken over my body and is controlling everything. Who I am. How I react. And so forth.

I cant even tell you how many times I have found myself curled over the toilet, dry heaving and heaving and heaving

and then sometimes I will eventually throw up.

Sometimes there's just nothing there.

And it's not only throwing up. Sometimes I get so s-t-r-e-s-s-e-d that I cant stop shaking...or I cant keep myself from rocking back and forth.

back and forth.

I dont know what this all means. I almost feel how I felt in my insomniac times. And that's not good. [like as if there's a bubble around you, filled with water. moving so slow. hearing so foggy]

I'm just so sick

so so sick

of this place.

Take me home.

here comes the drama?

I have scars all over my body. I have cut on my arms, shoulders, hips, thighs, legs, ankles, hands, waist, even the bottom of my feet. I have bled more than the next person.

And yet.

The places that I want to cut the most are the ones where I cant. I badly crave cutting my neck or throat. Or to cut my cheeks and face. And I so so badly want to cut all up and down my arms. on the uncoverable parts. I want to cut right beneath my collarbone. or X-out where my actual heart is.

I want to cut all the time. I just want to hurt myself. I want to bleed and bleed and bleed. I just want to bleed so much.

Why am I so sad?

Why do I want to bleed

so bad?

I just want to be alone.

leave me alone.

If it were more socially acceptable I would cut on all those places. And I wouldnt hide. And people wouldnt ask questions. And if they did, they wouldnt care. I wouldnt be wearing this long sleeved sweater. And I would be happy in my sadness.

I am so cold. so so cold. It's not going away.

The blood always clots up. Eventually you can stop dabbing with a tissue. It will dry and then flake off in sticky clumps. Eventually they heal. But you never do.

I dont know all the instances I have cut. I dont know why for each time.

But it still hurts.

The cuts always heal. But I still feel so so broken.

Why am I still here?

Last night was the first night in a LONG LONG time where I actually wondered why I was still living. Last night is the first in a long time where I considered ending it. All over again. Last night I wanted to die. Last night it would've been oh so easy.

Why.

Why is it last night? and not THE last night.

Taking the easy way out.

Because I cannot handle reality.

I just cannot handle this

anymore.

There has been a certain amount of times where it just gets too bad. And where I actually want to kill myself. Other times, most times, I just feel depressed. Horribly horribly depressed.

And that's bad enough.

But there are times, instances, where I dont only crave cutting. I crave the end.

Is this melodramatic?

I'm sorry.

Here comes the drama:

addict.

In two years I have cut approximately 365 times. And since the 9th grade, approximately 450 times.

The second one is less accurate because some of the beginning cuts are a little fuzzy....but it's still fairly accurate.

It's just something I do....I count every cut that I make. Each time I do it.

In 2009 I started writing it down with the date and how many times I've cut. And I've been keeping track like that ever since. Before then I had a piece of paper that I would record my cuts on, but no dates were included....and in the very very beginning I used to only record the instance that I cut. Like if in one night, I cut twice...I would list it as ONE. So that's why the numbers are off a little bit.

But in two years I have cut approximately 365 times. That's one cut a day for a year. (Or every other day for 2 years...) When I look at it that way, it doesnt seem that bad. especially considering that for one day, I have cut 102 times. And today I cut myself 33 times.

Cutting is looked as bad, by society. So I guess it's bad that it doesnt phase me anymore. I dont see it as doing something bad anymore. And what's worse is that I ENJOY doing it. I like it. And if I'm 100% honest I dont think that I will be able to quit. I might for a period of time...but I dont think I will actually quit.

I sound like an addict, right?

"What's so wrong with it, if it makes me feel good??"

That's what you hear from a drug addict or maybe an alcoholic.

I dont know what this means.

I know I have a problem.

I just dont want to fix it.

Last night...

Last night was another one of those nights.

Bryce and I, wrapped up in each others arms. Watching a movie that neither of us were really watching.

He asked me what was up.

I told him nothing.

He said something along the lines

"I can tell by the sounds of your breathing that it's not nothing"

I turned over to look him in the eyes.

My heart hurt right then.

He kissed me on the forehead

my cheeks

and my nose.

Saying,

"You have the cutest lips

the cutest nose

but the saddest eyes."

We're a bunch of cheeseballs...

He asked me

Why I hated myself so much?

I wasnt expecting it.

And I never know what to say

when asked questions like these.

To be put on the spot.

Why do I hate myself?

I have never thought of it as

me hating myself.

Anyways.

He cares about me.

I think that means he cares about me.

Why cant I just let him care?

I'm always so guarded.

I almost never let guys in.

almost.

never.

This mechanism...

The one that is stopping me from letting go.

from really feeling.

The one that is defending me, my heart.

It means well

but it always will hurt me.

I dont know what to do.

And I dont know why, or if I even do, "hate myself."

I dont even know who I am.

sabotage?

So I have a boyfriend...you know this.

And I'm happy with him, I really am! He treats me soo good, SO GOOD.

So why did I hide my tears last night when we were cuddling in the dark?

Why was I crying?

I dont know.

I'm scared of a lot of things. Small things. Irrational fears. Rational fears....I have anxiety, okay?!

And I suppose last night was just one of those nights...

I kept thinking "What happens when it all ends? What will happen when you hurt me, or I hurt you? What happens then??"

And while I was wondering that, I was also wondering why I was wondering it!

My first reaction to situations like this

[boys that like me back]

is to end it.

To cut things off. To stop them before they start.

To sabotage myself.

To make myself hurt.

Sound familiar??

What is it with me and wanting to hurt myself?

It's a pattern that is somewhat constant in my life.

Whether it's physical and in the now, like cutting or hitting myself.

Or long term, like smoking because I know it increases my chances of getting cancer.

Or mental, when I abuse myself but only in my mind.

Or even to break my own heart, because I'm too scared that someone else will do it for me.

It really is sabotage.

I have a good thing.

I have a real good thing right now.

And I dont want to ruin it.

But there's always that voice in the back of my head.

The one that says, "If he really knew you. If he really knew how messed up you were, he would hate you. He would be so disgusted by you. You make him sick."

And I dont even know if I believe it or not. Do I believe the lies? Are they even lies?

The question is, am I really sabotaging myself.

Or.

Am I just protecting myself from getting hurt?

Either way the pain is inevitable.

Someone will get hurt.

And I promise it will be me.

This or that.

I feel so confused right now.

And insecure.

Am I happy? Or not...

I will say that I think I have been happier lately. I think.

I hate that so often a boy will determine my mood. happy. sad. depressed.

It shouldn't be that way. I mean shouldn't I be secure all on my own?

So.

Am I happy because I am with someone right now?

Or are the meds finally kicking in?

Or am I in the good part, the part that comes right before the bad, ugly part. It comes in waves.

I just dont know.

?

cut me off.

I just feel so defeated.

By everything.

I dont really belong to anyone.

And no one really belongs to me.

Unattached.

It's not a good feeling.

I have cut a lot this week.

I have been "good" for a long time.

But I caved. I caved in, when I said I wouldnt.

Earlier this week I cut myself 10 times.

Five lines on each legs.

I couldnt sleep without them rubbing on my pajamas.

It hurt to put on pants.

Then one day, it just stopped hurting as much.

So I did it again.

2 more on each leg.

It felt good. And it hurts a lot.

But it's still not enough.

I need this pain

and I need it to be constant.

I dont know why.

But it makes my head hurt.

I can feel the tension in my neck

and down into my shoulders.

I want so badly to cut my legs

and arms.

But I have too many scars.

And people will start asking questions.

Why.

why.

why.

why.

Why do I have the urge to kill myself?

It is so strong. SO STRONG.

It makes me want to cry.

And sometimes I do.

But I cant let it go.

I need this.

I really think I need this.

all i want to do.

all i want to do is read depressing poetry.

listen to sad songs.

and sleep.

until there is nothing left.

what is wrong?

I should be really happy right now.

Really really happy.

But then why cant I stop crying?

I want to hurt myself.

But I wont.

I think the guy I like, likes me back.

He gives me crazy butterflies in my stomach.

And every time I talk to him my heart starts beating

really fast.

And the smile on my face just wont go away.

I should be really happy.

I have great friends.

And a wonderful family.

And a lot of people that care about me.

I dont understand.

I dont understand why I am still so...depressed.

I shouldnt be.

I dont want to be.

And I am really happy. But I'm also not.

It's so confusing.

I feel happy sometimes, but it's only a surface feeling.

And then when I'm all alone.

Or if I get a moment to think

Every thing floods my vision,

and I suppose I cant

think straight.

My head is pounding right now.

And if I take a moment

I'll start crying again.

And I soo so desperately

NEED

to cut.

But I cant.

What is wrong with me?

want to fly.

Last week a kid at my school spent a good part of his night hanging off of his 10th floor window. He was going to let go.

I got a text from a friend, telling me this. I was shocked. SHOCKED! This type of thing just doesnt happen in Eau Claire...you would think.

Anyways, I got the text right as I got in my car. I was driving to my night class. And on the short 2 minute drive I started crying. Just crying. And I said out loud,

"Wait, wait for me. Please just wait for me. We can do this together. I know we can. Let's jump and never look back. I want to fly."

I got to class and it's all I could really think about, and the gossip had already spread and people were already talking.

"How could life be so bad that you would want to jump from a 10 floor building?"

People just dont understand. It may not "get that bad" but we don't know that. To us, things are magnified and all rationales are pushed out. You simply cannot think straight. And sometimes, you feel crazy. You literally, feel crazy.

I remember one summer night, when I felt that feeling. Like I truly was insane. I was sobbing uncontrollably. My hair was a mess because I kept pulling it. And I was sitting in a corner of my room, behind the door, rocking back and forth. Back and forth, back and forth. Pulling my hair and sobbing.

That was the night when I almost drank bleach.

It's terrifying really. It makes my head hurt. And my heart drop. I look back now and know that whatever was the cause to make me get to that state was probably nothing. And I looked back the day after, knowing that it was probably nothing to have that reaction over. After it has passed, then I can think somewhat straight.

But in that moment. I become a completely different person. It's like I'm on drugs or something. A horrible trip. But I've never tried drugs in my life. And maybe that's why I wont. Things could go horribly wrong.

But now I'm just getting off topic.

So. In the end, they were able to talk the guy out of jumping. And I'm grateful that no one got hurt. But still. For myself.

I still want to fly.

inside my mind??? if just for a while.

i dont know what i'm doing here. i really dont. i am getting more and more depressed as each day goes on and passes by. and i cant think. i cannot think of the last time i was truly and genuinely happy. i cant remember feeling warm, body and soul. i cant do this. i cant do this. i cant do this.

sometimes my head feels like it's going to explode. that's cliche sounding, but the pressure in my head keeps building up and pushing outward and i really feel like at any moment....boom.

what am i doing? why am i even at school? what do i want to do with my life?

i dont know. i dont know. i dont know. i just dont know. i suppose i am here to graduate, to get a degree. but why? i think all i want to do is make art. and possibly make a difference. i dont know. but anyways, if all i want to do is make art, why am i here? i think about dropping out a lot these days. i just cannot handle the stress. i cannot handle all of the pressure. i cannot handle my classes.

i'm almost positive that i am failing all three of my GE's. If i fail...i will have to retake them, and honestly that is just not an option. I am suffering in 2 out of 3 of my GE's. only one i find interesting, and even in that class i cant get above a 60% on the tests and quizzes.

but do i want to go back home? i dont know. maybe for a little. but not for long. i can just see myself, getting a place of my own. and not leaving. until there is nothing there at all. quietly passing on to a better place. a new place.

it seems like all my thoughts are morbid now. sometimes there will be a bit of happiness, when i am with friends. but it's only a matter of time before the demons come back.

i just want to sleep. i want to sleep, and do art i suppose. i have really tried to throw myself into my artwork this semester. but it seems the more i care, the more i get disappointed.

i still believe in God. i know many, if not all, of my friends from back home think i have turned my back to Him. i suppose in a way i have. but i still believe what i was taught, and my love for Him may have even gotten stronger. i dont blame Him, as many might for the way i almost constantly feel. depressed. anxious. scared. in fact, i love Him more because i cannot even fathom someone loving myself, me, unconditionally the way He does. it boggles my mind. i am not a perfect image of what a Christ follower should be, not anywhere near perfect. but i still know what i believe. and i can see an outward perspective on my life and the things i should be doing, or the things certain people would say to me. i know. but somehow, i still believe the lies satan feeds me about my self worth, body image, and life. it's sad. so why do i still believe it? i can see the way out but somehow i just cannot get there. and i refuse to claim to be a christian if my actions dont follow. because if going to a Christian school taught me anything, it taught me about judgement. i refuse to be a poser. some of my closest friends in high school are the ones that judge me the most. and the worst part about it is that they try and cover it up with Christ. and it sickens me.

so. i know. i know how people see me. and i know the truth over these stupid lies. but the bridge between me today and the ideal me, just cannot be seen.

so where does that leave me now?

i know the easy way out would be just to kill myself and get it over with. but. there still is a tiny fraction of me who believes i can change. i cant see how. and i cant see when. but there is a small glimmer of hope.

i just pray that in the process, i will feel alive, and not more dead by the second. because i truly feel like the living dead. i am going through the motions, but internally the fire has gone out.

i need help. i know i do. but i do not know if i can take it again. more counselors. more therapy. more medicine. getting the parents involved. getting my friends involved. actively trying to re-train my thinking. i dont know if i can handle it again. another time. it scares me.

i just need to go away. to sleep. to hibernate. i need to go away now.

jealous.

my roommate from last year, (and also next year) has leukemia.

all this happened so fast. and while i am sad for her.

is it bad that i am also insanely jealous?

cancer.

it's a scary word. although leukemia is fairly treatable. it's still scary.

it's like some sort of poison.

i just want all of this to end.

RIP-ley

today my grandpa died.

a week ago. my grandma died.

his wife.

i wasn't close

to them.

there were a lot

of family issues.

maybe that's why

i am hurting.

so much.

although.

nowadays,

lately.

everything hurts.

it's hard to wake up.

it's hard to find motivation.

to do anything.

study.

create.

etc.

etc.

the pressure

buildup

in my head.

might just

explode.

and i might

want it to.

is death scary?

no.

it may be sad for a while,

frightening for some.

but

it should be a happy

celebration.

so.

am i hurting

from these two

deaths?

or.

am i hurting

because

i am simply jealous?

ugly.

This weekend I got stood up. Or blown off. Or something along those lines. I was really looking forward to hanging out with this guy, nothing big just chillin. And it kinda surprised me how much it hurt after the fact. I was pissed. But I guess I wasn't...just sad. I feel so ugly. I mean only losers get stood up, right?! I think. I give myself away too easily. I'm not talking about a physical, giving my body away sort of thing. But I care too much. Too quickly. And it's like I set myself up for failure. For heartbreak. But I never learn. Once, not too long ago I wrote this down, "I'm a romantic, but I wish I wasn't. I'd rather end up a reformed cynic than a heartbroken romantic." I wish I found a different word for "romantic" since I used it twice. But I guess I didn't. Anyways I'm pretty sure I believe that. (I say pretty sure because as of late I am not really sure of anything. I rarely have an absolute answer).

Anyways, this guy. He's not the type of person who would do that...so I guess that leaves me. Obviously it's me. What else is new?

I just feel so stupid. ugly. fat.

okay, I know I'm not fat. But I've gained a lot of weight and I feel huge. just so ugly.

I guess people like me dont deserve to be happy.