dear diary,
im watching the blood drip onto my sheets, and weirdly enough, i don't care. ive done it way too much to even care at this point. this is how i make myself feel better. and i can't stop it.
my hands are shaking, and my tears mix with the blood. i'll never be good enough. i'll never feel normal again. it's just me.
do stars watch you? i wonder how they feel up there. alone, yet surrounded by many more. they're fascinating. as a kid, i used to love stars. i still do.
weirdly enough, i find them comforting. they remind me of when i used to shine like them. when i glowed, and when people loved me. now i just feel like pluto, and all the other isolated planets. how amazing would it be to experience space? it's amazingly beautiful in pictures, i wonder how it is in real life.
no one really loves me. at least it feels that way. maybe dad still sees me as his little girl. i do feel sorry for myself, but what more can i do?
i'm alright. i tell myself that at least ten times a day. do i believe it? nope. it actually makes me feel even shittier. telling myself that the pain wont be there forever is the biggest lie ive ever told myself.
i'm tired. of not feeling at home, not fitting in, feeling alone. i don't remember what it's like to be loved anymore. and i hate it.
maybe if i just tried to get closer to dad years ago, life wouldn't be so bad. instead, i let us grow apart. i let the gap between us grow even more.
i know its my fault. it's always been my fault.
YOU ARE READING
athena
Short Storya diary she fills with her life. TW: ed, abuse, alcoholism, guns, drugs, r*pe, lots of suicidal thoughts, mentions of sh+doing, body dysmorphia, mentions of death. beware, these are serious topics, and please don't talk about them if you haven't exp...
