Can I just vent here for a bit? I'll hate myself for it
later, but what else is new. No one has to say anything or
offer any solutions. You can hug me or pat me on the head if
you so desire, but I know no one can fix this and I don't
expect anyone to try.

I am so sick of being my stupid self. I am so sick of
feeling like this. I am so sick of knowing, not knowing,
caring, not caring, wanting and not wanting.

I have a lovely life. I really do. Sure, it's a little
screwed up at the moment, but that was my fault. I let it
all slip away. Nothing is good enough for me.

I'm behind. I'm behind in school and I don't care. It's all
me. If it doesn't happen, only I know for a very long time.
(I'm lucky enough to be homeschooled. hah.) I haven't read
any material in forever. I can find the answers to enough
questions to pass without it. I always felt stupid. I still
do. But if I don't even try, I have an excuse. I didn't give
it much, so I didn't really fail.

I'm afriad. I'm afriad of being found out. It's sick, it's
just sick the things I hide and the reasons why. I won't
drive. I say I don't want to. No, I don't want to find out
what will happen if I get behind the wheel of a car and have
the horrible urge to destory myself. I'm afriad someone will
see all those pink little scars on my arms. Don't hug me,
don't touch me, don't come near me. Stay away, (keep me safe).

Sometimes I wish I could sit someone down, take thier hand
in mine and trace the scars with thier finger. Show them
the times I pulled that blade across my skin. Show
them the things right in front of them that they never
realized they were seeing.

I'm tired. Tired of doing the same thing week after week and
month after month. Tired of being tired. I want to sleep,
sleep forever and ever and ever. Breathe into that
beautiful, peaceful, black nothingness with no pain, no
responsiblity and no thoughts. No trying, no feeling, no
wishing, wanting, fear, needing and lonliness. Just
beautiful, black peace.

I wish I believed dying was eternal sleep. Maybe it's a good
thing I don't.

I'm not hopeless. I'm not sad all the time. I laugh. I sing. I sleep (blessed, beautiful sleep). I eat.
I do take interest in some things... but it always seems to
come back to the sadness and pain and confusion.

I'm sure it's all dreadfully normal and rediculous. And that
infuriates me. I don't want to be the way I am. If this is
normal, why doesn't everyone else seem so miserable? Sure,
some people are. Everyone hurts... why can't I deal with
mine? Is it normal to think about suicide? No, really. Is it? Doesn't everyone think about it in passing at least once? When things really suck it comes to mind, but then they bounce back and forget all about it?

I have no friends anymore. I really don't want any. More work. More failure. More emptiness, pain, dissapointment and regret. I can't hold up my end and I don't want to hurt anyone else. I can't talk to anyone. Someone will call occasionally. I'll think "Oh. Yeah. I should pick up/call them back." but I don't want to. I don't want them to say "So, what's up?" and grope around for something, anything other than myself to talk about.

I think about taking another overdose. Just to see. I did a minor one once before. I had a massive headache and felt really dizzy, but I took a nap and woke up feeling better. But if I pass out or something, suddenly, this will no longer be a secret. I will no longer be able to protect myself and other people from the truth.

I think about running away... throwing myself away. Just leaving, blowing it all up, letting whoever wants to do whatever do it and just passively waiting till whatever is going to happen happens. But I would be found. Eventually, I would be found.

I think about cutting deeper, better and giving myself what I really deserve, maybe even what I really want. Bleeding, stinging, pain. Let the tensions ease. But again, I cannot be found. I need to stay hidden.
And yet... it's not so bad, is it? I'm fine, aren't I? Yes. Yes, of course. One day, I will not be so stupid. One day I'll have outgrown all my dramatics and foolish tendency to overreact. I'll be better.

But I have this feeling. This feeling that this is never really going away. That the sadness hiding inside might hibernate for days, months, even years, but that it will never be gone. I am beginning to thik it has always been here... and always will be.

I'm really not that far gone... but I can't seem to go back and all I feel like doing if fading into the blackness until it destorys me.

No one can help. Because I can't and won't let them. I really did try to reach out... I tried to work up the courage to ask for help. But silent screams are still silent. And invisible tears can't be seen. And slowly, slowly, but ever so surely, the hope is dying. I don't want to reach out so much. I doubt I can be fixed. I tried... I really, really tried. But I can't seem to do it. People have tried to help me... but I can't accept this... what the hell is this anyway? Doesn't seem worth bothering anyone about and yet it's consuming me. Maybe I'm just not worth it?

Believe it or not, I think rational thoughts... I know I'm probably fine and just a normal angsty teenager. I just wish I could feel like it.

My apologies for spewing my crap everywhere- again. It just kind of builds up and sometimes I just need to let go a little.