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Because The Drugs Never Work. |
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I don't know what to write anymore. I don't know if I should anymore. I haven't written in so long. The pills don't work though. they never did. I just want it to stop. the weird looks, the fake concern and the undeserved concern. I want to stop seeing overpaid doctors and i want to stop having to say "I'm fine" when I"m not. because I'm never fine. I'm sick of laughing when i want to scream. and I'm sick of being the hyper, weird one because all i want to do is die.
I want to try again.
I can't get it out of my mind. and i can't believe I told her. I told her everything. EVERYTHING. she knows about the pills, and tears, and the fear. Things I never said to anyone. and she held my hand. She didnt try to stop me being crazy. She didn't try to take away my razor, but held my hand. and it's all I've ever wanted.
All I've ever needed. was for someone to hold my hand while i fall apart. while i scream.
I told her about me trying. I told her about being afraid to go near guns.
because I know, I won't be able to not squeeze the trigger. I told her how it hurts. I told her how i still remember, Lying on the floor at night blood running down my arms and legs and stifling my screams with a towel. i told it was the fist time, I tried to die, i told her how it felt when the pills hit your system and everything spins and you can't breathe or scream out, how your insides roll and burn and it lasts forever before you finally vomit it all out. how you lay there. in nauseating pain, and you wish you had just passed out but you lay there, crying and vomiting and screaming. I told her about keeping a razor in my pocket. about how I run the blade across my fingers and shiver. needing to see and feel the sting of it riping open my skin.
They said if i didn't stop they'd send me to the hospital. to the mental institution. So play along waiting for them to say: "you've been discharged"
so I can take out my razor again.Because the blue never leaves and the indigo leaves me blind. But a piece of me. A piece of me wants to be better. wants to stop dying, wants to feel the happiness I can only watch other people feel. I want to feel happiness that isn't followed by Indigo pain. it's a cycle and i want it to stop.
But I can't leave the hurt. I've had it for so long. it's become a part of me, and the pills steal me from myself. Too stoned to feel.
I'm lost and I don't know where to go. I can't stop. I can't stay. I'm scared. But I want it to end, all the pain, and all i can see is blue.
I never thought i would make it to 18.
I still don't think i will.I don't think I'll ever meet Gerard Way. I don't think I'll be able to keep my promises.
and it scares me a small piece at least. the part of me that exists only during the false happiness. And none of this makes any ******** sense, and I'm so ******** tired. My mind is ******** jumbled and i can't think and it's racing with incoherent thoughts and My hand hurt from typing and hitting backspace constantly because I I'm trying to make sense of this but i can't there's fear and pain and so many other emotions rolled into this little ball and it's crashing down in waves of blue and indigo and white and yellow. I'm up and down and sideways and upside down, I'm blind then i see then I'm deaf. I'm scared, sad, happy, stressed, sad, angry, all in a moment. I'm a ******** mess.
A ******** mess.
a ******** 16 year old ugly lesbian freak asthmatic panicky does-nothing-right failing at everything mess.
 Ritsuka Uchiha 182 · Mon Dec 13, 2010 @ 05:13am · 1 Comments |
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