Let’s go away. Let’s get in the car and drive until we’re completely and utterly lost. No maps, only cash. Wherever we are when we run out of gas is where we stay. Whatever city or town it is. No matter how run down or unsafe it is. Anywhere is better than here. We will find the beauty in the craziness of life.
I need to find the reason behind my life. I don’t understand why I’m still here. I shouldn't be here. I should have died when I was 12. Since then, I've been a danger to myself and everyone around me.
I’m numb to all feelings, and I have been for a long time. Pain, sadness, even happiness have felt the same. Nothing. That’s all I feel. Nothing. When did I last cry? I don’t remember. I hate this numbness.
Saturday, March 29, 2014
Three days and counting.
I can't help but feel that I'm getting worse as time goes on. It's becoming harder and harder to get out of bed everyday. I don't feel as though I have a reason to leave my house.
I just want to be someone else. I'm tired of seeing my face in the mirror each day; I'm tired of touching this disgusting skin.
I should be grateful, and I should feel privileged and accomplished, but I don't. Someone has it worse than I do, and so many have it much better than I. This isn't enough to stop me from wishing I could change everything.
I just feel like nothing I do is good enough, yet I'm still better off than most of my family. I've made it though 13 years of traditional school and I am going to a four year university in the fall, but I still feel as though I haven't done enough. I am not in the top ten in my class, nor do I have a high ACT score. I am not going to a prestigious private college, and I haven't been awarded thousands of dollars in scholarships.
Half of my senior class doesn't even know I exist. I could disappear tomorrow and maybe three people would be affected. Teachers don't like me, underclassmen don't know me, and the counselors still have to ask me what my name is and if I'm a junior or a senior. I don't matter at school, I don't matter at home, and I'll never matter in the real world.
I'm afraid that leaving my hometown will make things worse, but I'm even more afraid that getting out of here will be healing. I don't think I'm ready to get better; the road to recovery is too painful to embark on. What if leaving my house provides me with more opportunities to control food intake, self harm, and only worsens my anxiety? But what if I'm not alone enough to self harm, I'm forced to eat, and I find that I'm not as anxious because I'm around new people? Both sound painful, but not being able to control food and self harm sounds even more painful.
I just need to get my life together, but how? How could I possibly get my life together when I can't even keep my mind together? I have literally failed at surviving. Anyone can survive but I can barely do that. One day I'll either be truly happy or dumb/inebriated enough to give up.
I just want to be someone else. I'm tired of seeing my face in the mirror each day; I'm tired of touching this disgusting skin.
I should be grateful, and I should feel privileged and accomplished, but I don't. Someone has it worse than I do, and so many have it much better than I. This isn't enough to stop me from wishing I could change everything.
I just feel like nothing I do is good enough, yet I'm still better off than most of my family. I've made it though 13 years of traditional school and I am going to a four year university in the fall, but I still feel as though I haven't done enough. I am not in the top ten in my class, nor do I have a high ACT score. I am not going to a prestigious private college, and I haven't been awarded thousands of dollars in scholarships.
Half of my senior class doesn't even know I exist. I could disappear tomorrow and maybe three people would be affected. Teachers don't like me, underclassmen don't know me, and the counselors still have to ask me what my name is and if I'm a junior or a senior. I don't matter at school, I don't matter at home, and I'll never matter in the real world.
I'm afraid that leaving my hometown will make things worse, but I'm even more afraid that getting out of here will be healing. I don't think I'm ready to get better; the road to recovery is too painful to embark on. What if leaving my house provides me with more opportunities to control food intake, self harm, and only worsens my anxiety? But what if I'm not alone enough to self harm, I'm forced to eat, and I find that I'm not as anxious because I'm around new people? Both sound painful, but not being able to control food and self harm sounds even more painful.
I just need to get my life together, but how? How could I possibly get my life together when I can't even keep my mind together? I have literally failed at surviving. Anyone can survive but I can barely do that. One day I'll either be truly happy or dumb/inebriated enough to give up.
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