I been having increasing pressure lately to be with someone. My family has been trying to get me to make more friends and even hook up with some. The problem is that my scars haven’t gone away yet. If I do end up hooking up with someone, then there is a chance they will find the scars on my arms and legs. Normally I don’t care what people want for me, but this part of my family is the part I truly love and respect. They are the only people who I genuinely care about and their perception of me. I been paranoid so much because of this. They know I don’t talk to anyone and stay in my room all day, they want me to be more socially active. I know they are doing this with good intentions, but it’s killing me so much. I can’t cut or else, in a hypothetical case of me hooking up with someone or having to take my shirt off, someone may see the scars and then everything will crumble from there. I’m trying so hard to stop feeling depressed. I been trying different methods to keep my mind away. It’s hard, but the pressure I’m feeling to be socially active from my family is getting difficult to bear. My scars are still way too clear, and don’t look like they will be leaving any time soon. I don’t want them to see this side of me, I don’t want to be a disappointment to the only people I have left, even if they don’t me and my struggles.
I’d much rather be remembered as the kid who had a whole lot of potential, but didn’t have the chance to fulfill it than the one who had a whole lot of potential and have it all go to waste. But then again.. wouldn’t dying mean wasting the potential anyways? Why does death sound so relieving then? it sounds like the one true place I can no longer be disappointed, and no longer feel like the failure I am growing up to be.
Something I feel.. “No Love”
Not even as a person, not as a family member, not even as a friend.
I don’t think I’ve ever contemplated suicide so much until these last few days. I mean.. especially since my birthday is only in 2 days. I just don’t have that will to live anymore. I don’t think there’s even a point in it. I can’t even find enough comfort in cutting anymore, it just doesn’t have the same effect as it used to. I don’t think I’ll go through with it, but it’s still something I can’t help but to think of. All day, every day. Just picturing all the ways I can die. It would be nice, to just die.. die without a care.. to die knowing you’re no longer wasting space in peoples lives.
Just finished this a little while ago.
I want to know my fate if I keep up this way.
I feel like this line is all about me. I started cutting at the age of 18. When I was 17, I was still saying that I would never do such a thing to myself, that I could never be like that. I was secure back then and I felt like I had everything. I was in love and everything was great. Two years later I’m at this point. Pretty low, and cutting words into my body. To remind me of how I am, how i’ve been, how I will probably stay, and how I got to be like this. These are lyrics from the song Giving up the Gun by Vampire Weekend.
I been listening to the wrong things. I know I shouldn’t, but I do it anyway. I been waking up wanting to cut so bad; however, I must keep my composure in front of others and I’ve been working a lot lately so I try to stay calm. I can’t be giving any hints or signs of cutting. I know what and where I plan to cut next, the only problem is.. when? I want it to be soon. Maybe in 3 days. We’ll see. But I plan to make this next one, look real good. All the things that have been going through my mind are harsh for my emotions. Day by day I feel less and less emotional. But i’m wondering if I’m going to stay like this, or am I going to crack horribly one day and speak of the things that have been destroying me mentally and emotionally these last several years? I guess we’ll find out.
Well, the ‘O’ and the ‘V’ are stinging like a motherfucker. haha I wonder how it’s going to look when it’s a bit more healed. I noticed that for me, the first cut is the hardest, but after that it’s like nothing. I also would’ve shaved my leg if I knew I was going to do that. I think I’m going to take a shower now. Lets see how that’ll feel!
On the plus side: When I was cutting I was smiling a whole lot more. :D
I don’t know why, I just did it. It kinda stings right now, but the pain feels good.
I don’t feel happiness anymore, I don’t feel depression as much, I don’t feel frustrated, stressed, displeasure, anger, hatred nor grief. I don’t feel anything. I feel nothing, not a thing. Everything feels the same. Everything feels routine. Everything feels dead. I don’t like it though. I don’t enjoy things I once did. Things I once loved are now things I feel nothing for. I don’t know how to take this. I wish I could cry, but nothing I can think of can make me care enough to shed a tear. I feel nothing towards everything. I can’t cry on my own command. My tears must be real. I can smile, but it’s gone in seconds. There’s nothing I have passion for, nor even hatred for. I guess I don’t like that.