To Feel What I Feel

Dead

I used to be a happy person. The 'look at the bright side' kind. Best friends with my parents. My brothers understood me. I understood my sister. I liked where I lived. I liked my pets. I said things without putting much thought into it. I said how I'd feel. I felt things. I was able to talk about my problems. I didn't dwell on my problems. Now I'm not. I'm more freakin realistic. I'm more of a cursor. Before I would look down on cursing because I didn't want to hurt people. This boy in middle school bullied me into using the f-word. Now I say it everyday, and I feel like he bullied me into cursing because he cared about me. Knew that I would be able to move forward if I became more open-minded. Well, I'm open-minded. I feel numb, and I WANT to cut all the time. I'm playing wounded. Why? My parents. My brothers. Peace. Everything that was supposed to work out....didn't. I used to feel that I deserved to die. Now I want to die just so everything, time itself, would just stop. I just want everything to stop. I used to be scared of dying, of falling? Now I really can't wait. I dread everyday because I know people expect me to get over the pain, to power through, to want again. But.. What's the point? Even if I manage to get everything that I want what am I to gain out of it? It won't help things glue themselves back together with my parents. It won't make my brothers understand me. It won't freakin FIX what had BROKE all those years ago. Everything was perfect then if wasn't. I don't want to be happy. I don't want to feel. I want to stop. I have so many damn hobbies. I called this suicide number and they asked me if I do anything for fun? I read, write, draw, play music, dance, sing to myself...cut. They said that everything besides cutting should eventually make me happy one day. I told them I didn't want to be happy. No answer. A suicide line didn't have an answer for me. That's because they want to fix me, but I ain't the problem. There's no solution if parts of the 'problem' aren't present. Otherwise it's just a bunch of what ifs and maybes. ... I feel numb all the time. Filled with words that will never get spoken to the right people. Filled with emotions that are on a loop, never-ending. I understand people who want to commit suicide, I can relate. I understand people who cut, I can relate. I understand most depressed people because sometimes I can relate. I won't say all because we all have unique problems. I may understand you, if we can relate. But I'll never understand completely because I've only been through my side of things. But I can't change who I am, again. I won't. I used to be happy, I changed for my family, now I'm sad. I won't change to being happy again because it's so foreign now. The rules are different. It just feels fake now? 

I like to sit in the dark.
I like to paint blood dripping because I used to cut. (I'm trying to stop)(For my sister)
I like to write stories with characters from messed up backgrounds. 
I like to read books as a means to escape.
I like to watch movies, but usually hate the plot.
I like to listen to dark music because it's a way to relate. (Happy music feels fake)
I like that people can still be happy with all the messed up things going on.
I like that some people don't dwell on it.

It is better for me since I moved away from my parents, but I still like being alone. Why? Because I won't disappoint myself.

Fuck. 
~True shit