#boysaresuicidal2

I’m completely fine I swear

#hatemyself-lovecats

In a heartbeat..

#won-der-land89

#nadatienesentidoahora

#boysaresuicidal2

Would u still believe me?

#freebutterfly1989

Today I woke up sad. Woke up feeling a whole lot of different emotions. Mind fucking emotions. Emotions that seemed impossible to get away from. I panicked. My my mind was yelling at me. My thoughts we becoming so intense. It was telling me that I wasn’t good enough for anyone. That I was ugly. That I was useless, that I wasn’t good enough at my job. That I was stupid and forgetful. To go die. I wanted to die. I wanted all those feelings of today and other days to go away. I wanted the pain to stop. I thought about it, and I kept telling it no. No. I cried and sat in my bed wondering what to do,I looked around my room as if I were lost in my own room. Not knowing how to get out. Who was I suppose to talk to ? What Was I suppose to do? Do I kill myself here?  In my bed? With what ? how? I wanted to much to just take my life. To end this vicious cycle . To kill the demon, the enemy within me. I grabbed a xacto knife, and tried to cut into my arm. It seemed dull. That was frustrating. So I grabbed a blade I had taken out of a razor and just went over my arm with it, my leg, and my neck. then I calmed down after a while. Blood started to flow out of each wound. I felt better. My leg got the most of it. It does hurt and burn, but nothing serious. I do regret my arm, because the weather was getting nice. I am going to be hard on myself  these next few days. What to wear without them being seen by mom, and work will be my struggle. I fucked up. I hope that the weather isn’t nice. But then again I can’t be selfish and wish that, just because I fucked it up and can’t wear short sleeves for a while.I’m upset about my leg to. I don’t wear shorts, but this summer I hope to. I hope no scarring is left behind. I will do my best to apply bio oil daily. The one thing I hate about cutting is the scars. I know, I probably sound stupid saying all this, but it’s how I feel. It’s a cycle. A never ending cycle. I get depressed, I cut, I feel better, I get depressed about the scarring, then I go a while without cutting. It’s scary sometimes. I had one serious time that I tried to slit my wrist to try and kill myself, I obviously was unsuccessful  I freaked. I think I just expected to die right away. However I sat there for a few minutes, and then screamed for my mom. She took me to the hospital. I eventually snapped into reality and was like fuck. I don’t want to be put away into a hospital. So I lied my way out. Blamed it on the medication. The key is to keep as calm as possible. Not flip the fuck out. Just stay come. And say the right things. Then you get out. I think their is a possible chance in the future if I can’t put a stop to this that I could die from it. I have this thing now, well ive don’t it a few times before, but I go right for my neck when I cut. If I ever do die from a cut to the neck, it’s very possible that was a accident.  Unless one day im super fucking pissed off then that’s another story, but one will never know. Only I will, but I wouldnt be here to tell you that.

#acid-tongued-monster

5:18AM 

 All I Need: 

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