0:39 am
On the days that you really need to get things off your chest, everyone seems to just disappear.
You wait all day to hear from at least one person. Even if it's just to ask what you're doing or if you're okay.
Nothing.
I'm slowly being swallowed up by this dark whole. As hard as I try to free myself from it, it only gets worse.
I tried to convince myself that things are getting better but that didnt work out at all.
Falling asleep is out of the question. I havent slept in weeks. Getting out of bed is harder.
Yesterday I was convinced to get out the house, all I wanted to do was break down and just cry.
To other people, it looked like I had fun.
Fake smiles.
Fake laughs.
It's just an act.
~~
2:09 am
So tired but cant sleep.
My mind doesnt know when to shut up.
Bad memories.
Bad thoughts.
I remember the first time I ever put a blade to my skin.
The relief I felt.
I didnt want to stop feeling it.
I couldn't stop.
When I was done, I counted 153.
153 red bloody lines.
I cried afterwards, seeing what I had done to myself.
It became an addiction.
I had to do it everyday. Even if it was just one. Even a little one.
After a couple of months my mother found out. All she said was "why'd you do it?". She never asked if I was okay. She didn't check to see if I had stopped.
I kept doing it for another 2 years. I then stopped. I told myself that i needed to get better.
I tried.
I started again. It wasn't everyday. Maybe once a week, or twice a month.
Little by little I started throwing blades away. I started to feel a bit better. I actually smiled a couple of times and laughed.
Nothing lasts forever.
Here I am again.
