It's too much.

Twenty Nine. I wish

I wish I was normal...
I wish I could control my emotions like normal, I wish I could express my emotions properly without struggling horribly.
I wish I wanted to be touch without feeling the hands of my past abusers on my body.
I wish I could love like normal.
I wish I didn't want to die nearly every single day...
I wish I didn't have panic attacks a lot during the day...
I wish I could close my eyes without thinking about what it be like if I was dead.

I was shaking, gripping my hair, coughing, gagging, heathing, "Please..." I remember my pleads for the voices to stop telling me to kill myself.

"Enough..." I remember coughing hard, feeling blood drip from my nose due to stress, I remember how I opened my eyes to see a pretty good amount of blood on my floor.

I remember feeling pure panic as I grabbed a broken glass shard off of my night stand, putting it to my wrist... And...

One...
Two
Five...
Seven
Eight...
Ten...

It horrible, how one cut can turn into one, then five, the twelve. I remember seeing my wrist covered in blood, I remember screaming and hitting my head in anger at what I did.

I wish... I didn't do that...
I wish that I didn't remember that.
I wish I could forget how a razor blade makes my heart skips a beat when I put it up to my wrist and how it feels so freeing to cut myself.

I wish I could love myself how others loved me...

I don't get why some people have read this, it's just a vent thing, I don't get it, why read this depressing shit.