*si*
it's harder tonight. i feel like destroying myself with cuts would fix everything - pretty illogical i know. i don't want recent cuts on my arms for A and S to see, but i wouldn't mind that much either, i feel like they should see what a mess i am. i want to scare someone. i want someone to care. i want someone to listen. i don't want to be so scared of the future, being alone so much is getting old and i hate myself for not connecting to people.
i have a song in my head and i don't know why it makes me sad. the lyric is "am i what you wanted?". to me it means either i'm thinking there is no one close to me who "wants" me, or i'm wondering about my parents and thinking am i what they wanted. ie no.
i hate her, i hate my mother. i want to strip off the bullshit and say that, but i can't. 1. because my sister and i are relying on her help for the next few weeks, and 2. because i wouldn't be able to say that without a getting properly angry or maybe if i was drunk or something.
like i said to my sister today - i'm rarely angry. she said "aren't you the person who's thrown a jar at the wall when you were angry?" and i thought, hey your memory is good
(which it is, esp compared to mine). and i tried to explain that happens so rarely, not when i should be angry. when i should be saying what i want to say. instead it's an impulse, like si, that gets expressed when i can't cope any more. coping with anger i've stuffed inside myself never to have anyone see.
people think i'm weird when i say that have smashed things. people from my home town would find it hard to believe. people see the polite quiet person and forget that that very quiet very polite people are unnatural and unhealthy. inside i'm a monster. inside i'm the person thinking "if only i had more scars". "if only i could be one person instead of a person who rages inside the cage of a person who says nothing."
i'm sick. i'm a fucking crazy person.
ha. if anyone is reading this. you know what? i like this venting venomous person. i want to be the raging one not the quiet one. i want to be heard.
at least expressing whatever i'm expressing is something. the tears on my face feel like when blood tickles and runs down my body. part of me wishes it was blood, but instead it's harmless. not the raging? no one can see or hear me, so i would put that in the "quiet" box. always the quiet one.
don't they say "it's always the quiet ones" when talking about serial killers and psycho murderers
i don't think i'd ever snap and do that, but it does feel like i fit in that sort of category. there are many quiet ones though, and not many kill. many just injure themselves instead
i feel calmer now. sorry about the triggers but i hope someone reads? *deep breath*