As the months go on I seem to have forgotten my purpose in writing these fake letters. I’m taking this chance when I’ve just had one of my out bursts to try and figure out or at least try and talk about what goes on in this head of mine. Today, or this morning, was great. Last night it was my friend ella’s birthday party in which me, Gracie and Jenica attended.
I have never self harmed. Ever. It looks so dumb to me, being surrounded by 14 year old upper middle class white kids who the only reason why they cut is because their parents wont let them do something or they don’t respect their xe/xem pronouns. Fucking bullshit. I’m still trash though. I haven’t felt so fucking shitty in a while. I want to cry, I feel like i’m going to have a heart attack, I can’t stop moving around and I don’t know why. I hate the idea of being “triggered” it’s also fucking stupid but here I am. Pacing around my room like a lunatic and crying to an imaginary friend in a fake letter because i remembered some dumb shit i said when i was 14.
I hate myself. I hate myself so much. I hate my face. I hate my body. I hate the way I think. I hate the things I say. I hate my legs. I hate my habits. I hate how much I hate myself and I want to cry. My emotions are a mess. I have never been so angry to happy to sad before this week. I have never used as much violence as I did this week and I’m scared
Last year on October 5th. I walked in front of a car. I had my head phones on but there was no music. I knew why was doing it and it scared me. No one really wants to die I don’t think, there will all ways be a part of you that wants to stay but I don’t know how to deal with myself other than just making it all stop.
I don’t understand how I can go from almost killing myself to laughing about glee in a matter of minutes. I don’t understand how I can go from civil to having to be held down by my parents in order to get myself to calm down in a matter of seconds. I don’t understand why I can’t manage myself in the way other people do. Why am I different. Why do I need “help”. Why can’t I bring myself to ask for that help. Why do I feel alone. Why do I get bored of people so fucking easily and why must I feel alone so quickly if I need to get bored in a matter of months.
I’m lonely but i will ignore you
I’m sad but I’m a bully
I’m loved but I’m difficult
I cannot say a single good thing about myself and that bothers me.
I will go back to being a bitch or a friend in a matter of hours.
I will be fine in a matter if hours
and I won’t remember what any of this feels like.