this and that

6am thoughts

I wish I had a story. A heartbreaking story, a traumatised past that's devouring me from the inside, something, anything, to make the stuff that I am feeling plausible.
I am, physically, fine. Therefore my mind is convinced that I need to be mentally fine, since I'm not physically sick. I'm sorry if this isn't making any sense, I'm not thinking straight.

Guilt. I feel that a lot. Guilty for missing school, guilty for making my parents worry about me, guilt for not studying. Guilt, guilt, guilt. It hurts sometimes, and I want it to stop so bad. But I am selfish, and I don't make it stop, even if I could.

I'm a mess. I haven't brushed my hair in days, my eyes are puffy and red. I haven't left my bed in quite a long time.
I haven't been to school for a week. People started asking questions, teachers are "worried" that I'll lose the year, but I don't care about the year. I really want to go back to school, but just thinking about everyone looking at me, judging me, asking me if I was sick makes me want to barf. Oh, and the stuff I was supposed to catch on, yeah. I haven't done that. I've spent most of my time crying my eyes out, watching kids shows on tv to distract myself, drawing, and crying some more.

I hate myself. Everything about myself. And yes, I have consideded killing myself, but that's just stupid. My family loves me too much, and I love them too much. My father came to my room before. He brought a pill for my headache, and a piece of cake. He brought food for fuck's sake, he never, never let's us eat in bed usually. He knows something is wrong, terribly wrong.

I'm crying again. It's the third time this morning, and it's 6am. I don't know what to do, I'm scared.

So I found this after months, and I didn't have the heart to delete it. I'm probably gonna continue this book thing whenever I feel like shit