~DEFINATELY A TRIGGER WARNING~

I am really messed up. I must be crazy.

Today I cut deeper than ever before. Always, always, I just made little scratches that scarred and then faded away after a month or so. Not today. I planned it. I planned to cut deeper. I got out my first aid kid, hunted down the medical tape, got a towel, everything. But the reason I did it, besides to feel the lovely, distracting, pain, was for blood.

I wanted to see it run down my arm, thick and scarlet. I wanted to see the way it stands out on pale skin. And it was soothing, watching that lovely drip, drip, drip, of blood on skin. It still wasn't deep enough to need stitches or be really dangerous, but it was enough to watch my blood run.

On other another note, my sister decided to make a joke today. She said, "There's good news and bad news. The good news is you're alive. The bad news is you could die at any time." The whole time I was thinking that she got it backwards.

When I was driving today, I thought about purposely crashing the car, just to see how bad I got hurt or if I could even get away with dying. But I didn't. I remembered you guys here at PC and realized that I hadn't posted today yet. Silly reason to not try to kill myself, but I'm glad for it anyways. Plus, that wouldn't have been cool with my dad in the car too.

I'm finally cutting down to two average sized meals a day. And then all I have to do is shrink those and I'll be losing weight and not having to purge because I feel guilty about eating so much. Granted, I'll still feel guilty about eating at all. But I have to kill the fat baby. I have to. I can't stand it being there for another school year, or having the stupid skanks at school point it out.

I'm really starting to freak myself out here. I shouldn't be like this, craving blood and wanting to die. I have to keep telling myself that it's the bipolar talking; that if I died, I'd be letting the cruel, sadistic *****es at school win. I have to tell myself that I'm going to be in the National Independence Day Parade, and I have to at least live that long, so that I can die with one amazing, meaningful experience in my life. I have to go to camp for one day and then leave so that I can convince my youth leader, my parents, my two friends, that I'm okay, so that I can convince myself that I'm okay.

Even though I'm not...

I can pretend.

That's one thing I've always been good at. Pretending I'm okay.

...just keep on lying to myself, and I'll be okay.

Or I won't.

What's the difference anymore anyways? No one really understands, and no one really cares...

If I can just muddle through to July 4. Then I can die, having accomplished one worthwhile thing. Because I haven't accomplished anything to my life mean anything to anyone. I don't even mean anything to myself anymore.

Just gonna grin and bare it. Just a little bit longer.

And then, maybe I'll smile some more.

Even if it's pretend.