Well the words "said" still ring in my ears. I guess there was always a reason that I said, never to him, that I would have rather my ex just hit me and get it over with than say the things he said so I can torture myself with it later. And I do. Go back and read or think about things that are painful. I guess I suppose its only the truth and I deserve it. I don't have a stable "reflection" of self, thats a Borderline thing, so I look to others for a reflection and what I have been seeing...yeah.
"There are enough people here with cases of depression and mental problems, maybe you should keep out of the Dark Side and stick to your journal so that you are not at risk of assisting anyone in NOT recovering from their problems."
I wish I could find comfort in drugs or drink but not yet and who knows when. Soma and drinking is not good. And I'm never good enough for my step family why show up looking fucked up. Although we all know they all have their own issues. But I WILL get fucked up today, just a matter of when. It will take one or more scripted k-pins to get through Christmas at my dad's. He acts like he is SO concerned that every holiday in the last 2 years has be ruined and it usually starts there. I'd maybe telling him what I really thought about him and his bullshit at Thanksgiving clicked.
I've already cried today and still feel like crying. I was just getting my life together,a job I liked, a school I could manage and do well in, finding myself (although that may have been an illusion), getting dumped by the ex and taking it well (it was faking it...) but later finding someone great that I could see myself with.
And then it all just crashed down. Like I say so often. For as long as I can recall, as least teenage years. I've always hated myself. Before I found cutting I would punish myself by laying on the cold floor with no pillows of blankets becuase I didn't deserve comfort. And maybe thats how it is with my family and relationships I don't deserve love,who knows.anyway. I've always hated and punished myself for being so worthless, so useless, such a fuck up, such a waste.
There once was a saying that "God don't make mistakes" I don't believe in god, but if I did...I'm proof he does. And if there is one I'm very angry that he created me to suffer as I do.
Cutting on Christmas
not the Christmas ham
not cuttings from the wreath
not cutting wrapping paper
I want to cut my skin and cause the pain I feel to become physical. To bleed the blood that others have earned. And perhaps they will earn their own personal distinguishable scar, or it will fade into the many.
Yeah, I know I'm sick. You don't have to tell me that. I just wonder if I always have been...
"There are enough people here with cases of depression and mental problems, maybe you should keep out of the Dark Side and stick to your journal so that you are not at risk of assisting anyone in NOT recovering from their problems."
I wish I could find comfort in drugs or drink but not yet and who knows when. Soma and drinking is not good. And I'm never good enough for my step family why show up looking fucked up. Although we all know they all have their own issues. But I WILL get fucked up today, just a matter of when. It will take one or more scripted k-pins to get through Christmas at my dad's. He acts like he is SO concerned that every holiday in the last 2 years has be ruined and it usually starts there. I'd maybe telling him what I really thought about him and his bullshit at Thanksgiving clicked.
I've already cried today and still feel like crying. I was just getting my life together,a job I liked, a school I could manage and do well in, finding myself (although that may have been an illusion), getting dumped by the ex and taking it well (it was faking it...) but later finding someone great that I could see myself with.
And then it all just crashed down. Like I say so often. For as long as I can recall, as least teenage years. I've always hated myself. Before I found cutting I would punish myself by laying on the cold floor with no pillows of blankets becuase I didn't deserve comfort. And maybe thats how it is with my family and relationships I don't deserve love,who knows.anyway. I've always hated and punished myself for being so worthless, so useless, such a fuck up, such a waste.
There once was a saying that "God don't make mistakes" I don't believe in god, but if I did...I'm proof he does. And if there is one I'm very angry that he created me to suffer as I do.
Cutting on Christmas
not the Christmas ham
not cuttings from the wreath
not cutting wrapping paper
I want to cut my skin and cause the pain I feel to become physical. To bleed the blood that others have earned. And perhaps they will earn their own personal distinguishable scar, or it will fade into the many.
Yeah, I know I'm sick. You don't have to tell me that. I just wonder if I always have been...