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iaaboura I remember my suicide attempt very well. Even as the two year mark inches closer and closer, I still remember it. I still remember waking up the next morning with a feeling that could be described as both peace and disappointment. Then regret as I threw up for twelve hours straight. I remember begging my step dad to not take me to the E.R., but not being able to tell him why. I knew that there was nothing wrong with me, and I knew that there was a chance that I would he caught.
When I mom showed up, the first thing she asked was if I tried to kill myself. I said no and tried to look as repulsed by the idea as I could. I stayed in the E.R. for the next five hours, watching impratical jokers and trying to sleep. I received a one time prescription for pills I knew I wouldn't need. Sometimes when I'm having a normal stomach bug, my step dad asks me if I want those pills because we still have them. It's funny I think.
The next day I went back to school. Upon being asked where I was, I responded with an inappropriate joke about my friends mom that I can't imagine myself saying now.
I don't know if I really wanted to die, or if I knew that the amount I took wouldn't be enough. To this day I don't know if I'm glad it didn't work or not. I met my girlfriend, but I also met ___. I got closure about my ex, but I also developed an unhealthy relationship with food and my body. I learned how to make myself pretty, but I'm not happy.
Yes, I have pretty great things going for me, but I just can't say that I'm at a happy place just yet. Depression, anxiety, eating disorder, none of it is in remission. Maybe it was at some point, but not right now. I'm better in so many way, but oh so worse in other departments.
I don't even know if getting better is still on the table. I'm afraid for my future because I have a fear of never changing for the better. That I will never get other any of this. That the next big horrible thing is on its way. I'm so scared, all of the time and I have no healthy way to soothe myself.
My life is a constant cycle of feeling awful, insane, and absolutely nothing at all. And it always always leads to a relapse of some kind, usually cutting. And now I have no one to help me. I don't have ___ any more. I really just can't see when I have a good thing going for me. I could have been better. And I could have fixed everything if I really tried.
As a child, as young as seven, I've wanted to die. I felt wrong that way. I've always hated myself and my body. I have always been avoident. I've wanted to be gone for the better half of my life.
And now I've found myself at almost sixteen years old, feeling old and wishing that I could talk to that younger version of myself who would make nooses out of colorful bracelet strings and goodbye notes on sticky notes. I imagine myself hugging the poor girl who wondered why her daddy didn't want her anymore. I would make sure that she knows that she's loved, if not by anyone else then by me. I have a special place in my heart for the person I was before middle school. She was so sweet.
I hate the way life is going for me now, but I'm honestly afraid of any alternate universe where things turned out differently. There could be a world out there where I don't take responsibility for my actions, internally, at least. I still haven't really mended anything I ruined.
"I didn't think that I was capable of hurting someone this bad." I told ___. Always honest to a fault, but only when it doesn't matter. I guess that that's the point. I'm so wrong that I manipulated myself into thinking that I'm not. But I am I am I am I am. No good human would do what I have done. I am DISGUSTING for what I did.
I need to be murdered. I need to be killed by them only. I don't necessarily want to kill myself, but to die in a much worse way. It's the one thing I'm sure of.
This can't be my life. I know that this is fake because I still need to wake up. Ashlyn does.
When I mom showed up, the first thing she asked was if I tried to kill myself. I said no and tried to look as repulsed by the idea as I could. I stayed in the E.R. for the next five hours, watching impratical jokers and trying to sleep. I received a one time prescription for pills I knew I wouldn't need. Sometimes when I'm having a normal stomach bug, my step dad asks me if I want those pills because we still have them. It's funny I think.
The next day I went back to school. Upon being asked where I was, I responded with an inappropriate joke about my friends mom that I can't imagine myself saying now.
I don't know if I really wanted to die, or if I knew that the amount I took wouldn't be enough. To this day I don't know if I'm glad it didn't work or not. I met my girlfriend, but I also met ___. I got closure about my ex, but I also developed an unhealthy relationship with food and my body. I learned how to make myself pretty, but I'm not happy.
Yes, I have pretty great things going for me, but I just can't say that I'm at a happy place just yet. Depression, anxiety, eating disorder, none of it is in remission. Maybe it was at some point, but not right now. I'm better in so many way, but oh so worse in other departments.
I don't even know if getting better is still on the table. I'm afraid for my future because I have a fear of never changing for the better. That I will never get other any of this. That the next big horrible thing is on its way. I'm so scared, all of the time and I have no healthy way to soothe myself.
My life is a constant cycle of feeling awful, insane, and absolutely nothing at all. And it always always leads to a relapse of some kind, usually cutting. And now I have no one to help me. I don't have ___ any more. I really just can't see when I have a good thing going for me. I could have been better. And I could have fixed everything if I really tried.
As a child, as young as seven, I've wanted to die. I felt wrong that way. I've always hated myself and my body. I have always been avoident. I've wanted to be gone for the better half of my life.
And now I've found myself at almost sixteen years old, feeling old and wishing that I could talk to that younger version of myself who would make nooses out of colorful bracelet strings and goodbye notes on sticky notes. I imagine myself hugging the poor girl who wondered why her daddy didn't want her anymore. I would make sure that she knows that she's loved, if not by anyone else then by me. I have a special place in my heart for the person I was before middle school. She was so sweet.
I hate the way life is going for me now, but I'm honestly afraid of any alternate universe where things turned out differently. There could be a world out there where I don't take responsibility for my actions, internally, at least. I still haven't really mended anything I ruined.
"I didn't think that I was capable of hurting someone this bad." I told ___. Always honest to a fault, but only when it doesn't matter. I guess that that's the point. I'm so wrong that I manipulated myself into thinking that I'm not. But I am I am I am I am. No good human would do what I have done. I am DISGUSTING for what I did.
I need to be murdered. I need to be killed by them only. I don't necessarily want to kill myself, but to die in a much worse way. It's the one thing I'm sure of.
This can't be my life. I know that this is fake because I still need to wake up. Ashlyn does.
