This is going to be a bad night, I can tell.
I just found out that I’m not half bad at realistic drawing.
Okay, so that’s me spending tens of hours doing a portrait of Loki from an Avengers screenshot then.
Art has saved me from pain and taking my life so many times in the past. I guess it might give me something to concentrate on again right now instead of ripping myself apart, watching myself bleed, crying my eyes out or even worse.
The question is whether it’ll be enough this time and unfortunately I don’t know the answer to that question.
Hearing your dad call you fat during an argument with your mum and then hearing him full on screaming at your son to ‘shut up’ because he was upset and crying.
Worst part is: knowing you can’t say a fucking thing.
Please life, keep throwing all this amazing stuff at me cus don’t I just love it.
For fuck’s sake, get us out of here.
It’s like.. a few hours ago I was considering going on a date with someone, actually risking myself to see if happiness exists elsewhere.
Now I’m just realising that no one will accept what I am. That I will be walked over and have my kindness and love taken advantage of by anyone who gets a chance. I know that I’ll never have the chance for a normal life, I’ll never have a family, get married, go on holidays, make memories, build up a lovely photo album. I know I’m not meant for that any more because I’m not good enough. The things I’ve been through in the past and especially recently have taught me that.
Tell me.. if I can love someone with my whole soul, promise to give them everything, do anything I can, try my damn hardest, go against my parents and behind their back for him, lie for him, stick up for him, swear on my life to always be there for him no matter the time of day.. if I can do all that and then he chooses to suddenly ignore me without a single reason or word.. what does that make me? Better yet, if I can tell him the heartbreaking news that I lost his unborn child and that I need him right now.. and he still doesn’t care enough to answer me.. what the hell does that make me?
How does that make me special? How does that make me worthwhile?
It doesn’t. It proves to me that I’m what I’ve suspected I was for a long time. Nothing. That I’m not worth it. That me, my feelings, my heart and my love are utterly disposable.
And people wonder why I sit here and why I’ve started destroying my arm again, why I cry before I go to sleep, why I desperately do ANYTHING to distract myself from thinking because it’s dangerous for me to do so. Why I sleep so much, why I don’t eat. That is why. Because every time things start getting ‘better’ or look like they might be worked out I’m proved right and the thought is only solidified more and more in my mind.
This goes to him: You know what’s fucking sad? I may have been a little clingy, only because I didn’t know what was going on and I wanted to know you’re safe. I may have been a little closed off, I may have held back because I didn’t want to let my guard down and because I was scared of this happening again. I may have been many things but you can never say that I wouldn’t do ANYTHINGand EVERYTHING for you. Never. You can never say that I don’t love you.
By all rights I should fucking hate you, I should curse the day you were born. I should feel that you don’t deserve to know me.. but instead it’s the other way round. I feel like I do everything wrong, that I am to blame ALWAYS.
But you know the saddest part? I will always love you no matter what and you will never care.
My mum had a talk with me about a week ago about this kind of situation and said that if she finds out anything about it then I’ll be out of the house. I can’t say a word to my parents. The fallout I’d get from it would be unbelievable, I’d rather just run away than even try do that. I’m seriously considering that an option right now. I can’t handle being alone in this and I’d rather just leave everything behind.
I can’t hear another “I told you so.”
It’s been over two months and all that’s left is scars but
I’m so tempted to drag that blade across my skin again.
I don’t want to. I never wanted to go back to it after how bad it got last time but I don’t know how else to cope with this.
The only person I could have spoken to is blanking me, just completely cut me off. He doesn’t care obviously and it’s literally ripping me apart.
I’m becoming someone I’m not again and I don’t know how to stop it.
Fuck, please.. I don’t want my world to collapse again.
I’ve never actually cut my wrist before, I don’t know if anyone’s ever noticed that. I always felt like I wanted to keep it clean in case the time ever came to cut there.
I hate cutting over existing cuts, so yeah.
That time to cut there has finally come. I want to see what it does and how much more painful it is.
If I go too far?
Well c’est la vie.