Saturday, December 1, 2012

I'm scared that you'll get tired of me.
What if one day you wake up and can't remember why I was so special to you at the beginning?
Something in the back of my mind is telling me that you don't love me.
There's an increasing emptiness in your voice when you say those three words, or am I imagining it?
Is this my paranoia whispering into my ear when I'm on the edge of consciousness?
What are you thinking?
Why don't I already know?
I'm afraid of these answers.
I'm terrified that it's all true; that I've lost whatever it is that made you think I was worth it.
I don't want to lose you but I can't help but think that's what's happening here.

Sunday, November 25, 2012

I read all of your comments and I appreciate all of you.
I think there is something a lot of you don't see though.
I am not actually trying to get better nor was that ever my intention.
I do not have any plans of sticking around for much longer.
I do not love myself.
I don;t know if I ever really knew how to.
I can't even fathom having a future.
I don't see myself going to art school or accomplishing any of the things I once hoped to.
I don't think I can handle any of this much longer.
I'm so sorry.

Leave me at the altar

I'm getting to the point where I think about suicide even if I'm not feeling upset.
I was with my family over thanksgiving and it was probably one of the hardest moments of my life.
Every time I would get a hug or a glance my way I would wonder how that person would react if I commit suicide.
My uncle killed himself when I was three weeks old.
I never knew him.
The only thing I can think of when I hear his name is how it must have felt to pull that trigger.
My six year old cousin kept telling me how much she loved me and how I was her favorite cousin ever.
I can't deal with that.
I couldn't take any of it.
So every chance I got I would refill my wine glass.
On my way to my cousins house I purged in a gas station restroom.
People heard me.
They talked louder so they could hear each other over the sound of me choking on my fingers.
I haven't cut in about three weeks.
I plan on cutting my upper arms tonight.
I can't help but wonder if I should try and get help before its too late.
There won't be another hospital trip because the next time I attempt I have no doubt that I will not survive.
There is something wonderfully comforting about that.