they think that just by yelling at you and telling you that they will do the same thing just to make you feel bad or tell you to tie your dam balls together and suck it up. fuck you. you dont understand the shit that we go through so fuck off. anyway enough with the ranting. ive probably spent a week stopping myself from doing it. its crazy. theres not one night that i havent touched it to my skin and thought about it but i cant. a part of me wants to get rid of the scars and be the happy person that i usually am. but another part of me misses it. the sudden rush you get and watching the blood oze down the gentleness of your arm. thats was tell yesterday. i couldnt take it anymore. i sat there staring at the wall crying hard, i swear soonre or later the tears would have became blood. instead of the blade being on my arm..it was on my collerbone. i told people, "it was just a bug bite, soooo ichy lol". they laughed and walked away but that was the closest thing ive ever done to kill myself. i was close. so so close to feeling the voice in your head tell you repeatedly "its better there, just do it, no one wants you hear, your not good enough anyways". i just wish it would shut the hell up and let me go but nope, it has to control everything. i started reading to get my mind off of it. my favourite auther, ellen hopkins. her stories make me crazed. i love her writing. i cant even chose which one to love. they are beautifully amazing and mazed and twisted! i finished crank and glass and im starting fallout tomorrow. i got all of her books as an early birthday present. if i didnt have her books....i dont know what my life would be. 6 curved up cuts. lighty glazed across my skin, it hurt like hell on my collar bone. i cant finger why i didnt just do my throat. actually idk why im still talking about this. thats was yesterday, but what happens when the feeling comes back.....and i dont control where the blade goes?
