LustingforNightmares

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2016-01-11 01:13:25 (UTC)

How Not To Kill Yourself


Trigger Warning I guess????:

This entry talks about depressing shit.

January 11, 2015 Monday 12:14 AM


Disclaimer: this does not tell you how to not kill yourself. I can see how the title would be misleading, but this entry is simply me, screaming the entire time. Good day.

WHY DO I DO THIS TO MYSELF, WHY DO I DO THIS TO MYSELF, WHY DO I DO THIS TO MYSELF, WHY WHY WHY WHY WHY WHY WHY?????

Warning: I'm about to whine so hard, you'll need two pounds of cheese to (for lack of a better word) negate my negativity okay.

OH
MY
GOD.

I am stupid. I am so, so, so stupid and ugly but that last part is irrelevant and just reinforces the idea that I am stupid! I am dumb! As fuck!!!

And I'm going to suffocate! My lungs are going to collapse in on themselves and I'm going to sink into myself and eventually, I'll just look like a giant, flesh colored raisin that walks and talks.

I JUST WANT TO BE ALONE. I JUST WANT TO SLEEP. I JUST WANT TO STOP SHAKING AND I WANT MY CHEST TO STOP HURTING AND I WANT TO RUN AND I WANT TO FUCKING SCREAM GOD DAMN IT.

I should schedule an appointment with Pat, but I can never bring myself to ask for help when I actually need it.

Dumb, I know, but I can't help feeling like they will suspect I am on the edge of fucking exploding if I ask so I always do it when I'm alright. That way, I can go regularly and I won't have to ask anymore so when I really need it, I'll just... be able to go.

But eventually something happens and I stop going regularly. Like, this time I went on vacation and I didn't know when I'd have time this month so we never made another appointment. Other times, I just kept missing meetings.

GAH! I feel like Tweek Tweak from South Park haha. I want to tear out my hair.

You wanna know the worst part?

I'm NOT on the edge of a breakdown. It sounds like good news but it really isn't. At least if I were on the edge, I'd know I was near the tipping point and I dunno there is something comforting in the loss of control.

But I am strong and weak at the same time – I can go on this way for longer, so much longer. I could probably live another two miserable years under this kind of stress... Of course, I'd probably end up failing my AP exam and dropping out of any AP classes I was going to take next year... and I wouldn't even attempt going to a summer college.... and I wouldn't apply for that special program next year... and I'd stop doing my homework. But I would live and I'd have no escape.

This will be over, I know that much, but it's damaging me and the longer it goes on, the harder it will be to bounce back!

I mean, I'm not allowed to take days off. I can't afford it. I can't afford to stay home when I'm like this, I can't afford to fall behind any more than I already have ......

It's that running thing all over again, y'know? It's the speed of life that I can't stand. Sometimes I forget about it.

Not now.

Now, I feel like I tripper and now I'm being crushed by an invisible steam roller and I gotta catch up with everyone else but it's so hard to do that when your body has resorted to consuming itself and I'm just!!! Gonna have a heart attack!

Because no one notices! Not to sound resentful. Even though I am. I resent it. The feeling is unfair; I try my hardest to seem as if I have got everything under control and either it works or no one really cares if I feel like dying.

God, I feel fourteen years old again. This sucks.

No one notices, no one notices, no one notices, and I try to show them in the pettiest ways... I am just rude and impatient and argumentative and I want to peel my skin off. Even when I was happy earlier, I could feel it.

Ugh, if I am being perfectly honest, this is what I want to do:

-hurt myself
-stop going to school
-throw breakable shit
-just sleep
-sleep sleep
-watch TV
-draw
-read
-stop thinking
-stop interacting socially
-sink into a mattress
-literally become a mattress
-or a plant of some kind
-bruise my bones
-die temporarily
-stop shaking
-stop caring
-stop being a slave to my goddamn emotions!!!
-scream, scream, scream
-punch my dad in the face (dunno why)
-tell my sister she's an asshole
-tell my mom to shut up, shut up, shut up, I can't take it I can't hear it anymore, I can't do anything anymore, I'm sorry sorry sorry I'll pick up my damn dish, I'm sorry, that's not even a lot to ask but just that tiny task makes me so, impossibly angry it's not even funny.

Actually it's hilarious, but only if you separate yourself. Which I do. I do that sometimes. I'm split. It allows me to function, to appear somewhat normal.

This separation is why I won't do any of the things I want to do. Except that I am kind of not doing my homework. I wish they would understand, but they don't... I wish I could explain it to them without humiliating myself or... I just wish I could ask them to cut me some slack for awhile without feeling guilty.

It's not fair to other kids if I were to be let off the hook like that. I don't want to be treated differently. I don't want to BE different, at least not in this way.

My lungs hurt. Or maybe it's my stomach. I don't know. It just burns.

It's halfway to 1 am.... this week is going to suck.

This is just me being paranoid but I feel like everything comes at once.

I am fine and I can keep up with work usually, but then I go on vacation and have no choice but to fall behind and BAM. Soon as I get back, I'm flooded with preparation for midterms, labs, homework to catch up on, readings, projects, field trips, information sessions, and I just want to die.

This week is actually the worst which is funny because I mean that both emotionally and schedule-wise.

Tomorrow, I have this YMCA program I go to. Tuesday, a field trip and then a project after school. Wednesday, the information session. Thursday, part of the project is due which sucks since we only started this Sunday because we are assholes (I, in particular, am a dumb fuck).

Friday/!?!?!?!? Who the fuck knows! Who! The fuck! Knows! Fuck fuck fuck fuck! I just know I'll be busy. I want to die.

I don't want to go to Mr. Sandwich's for lunch because I can't put my head down in there, can't sit in a corner and be alone because then people will know something is up and they'll ask me if I'm okay and I will say yes and they'll know I'm lying and Sandwich will say, "Veronica thinks she's better than us," which is his way of saying he knows I'm in a bad mood and he wants to know why.

But god. I don't want to talk about Sandwich. He reminds me of Ethan and I don't wanna think about Ethan, like at all. Partly because he reminds me of Caroline and I don't wanna think about her either. I also just don't want to think about Ethan because... I've just got this bad feeling, like I did something wrong or like he never loved us and I don't know. I don't know. I don't know when that happened.... It just did. Sometime in the past few weeks.

Ugh.

It's... slightly relieving to complaint his way. All this past week, I've been trying not to explode this way even in my entries but I.... I want to beat someone to death. Jesus christ. No I don't.

But I want to inflict pain because I'm so angry! I could do it to someone else, but I'd feel too bad. Maybe not during, but afterwards. It's better if I did it to myself, it's consensual.

Again, though, I will NOT under any circumstances hurt myself in any physical way.

Emotionally, that's kind of unavoidable. Everything hurts me.

But yeah. I'll be fine. Please kill me. I'm fine. Okay. My brain is confusing me and I want to throw up.

PS:

I had a shitload of nightmares last night. They were so fucking scary. I liked them.


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