Everything is so painful, I can’t sleep! There is no one to talk to and no where to go, in the middle of the night, so I figured getting out of bed and getting it out could be a good idea, but help my soul, nothing takes the pain away!
I was 14 the first time I cut myself. It was random, but probably would have happened sooner or later, if not that night. I accidentally dropped a bottle of perfume, it broke into many pieces. I cleaned up the mess, and kept some of the sharpest ones. Later I took one of them and ripped my skin open. It was tiny, tiny, it barely bled. One could probably say that it was only a scratch. It just had to try, right? Perfectly normal, nothing to worry about. But truthfully, I guess I was sick, already then.
My thoughts on myself in the world, and the world in me was absurd. I believed it to be my fault when people were raped in Africa, and earthquakes happening half around the globe was also my fault. Whenever I made a mistake, if I ever accidentally made someone the teeny-est bit upset, I would be filled with shame. How could I, so worthless, make someone else who was valued feel bad? I felt like a disgrace to humanity, and was filled with pain, and thoughts of ending my own life, that that was what I deserved for being in the way, or bumping into someone.
I got the worst idea tonight. I was feeling upset already, and I felt as if I wouldn’t be able to sleep, and then I got this feeble thought. I should find the diaries from the period where I figured I would find my first suicide ‘hope’. Find out when it was I first walked that way. How could I be so stupid? I already felt worn out and barely holding myself together, how could I get that foolish idea to read from a diary of that time when I was so hopeless, so lousy, so alone. How is it possible? And how is it possible to accept ones past and move on from it all. I feel so guilty for being upset that I was bullied when there are kids who are abused, because I think that the pain I suffered wasn’t bad enough. I have no right to be sad. I have no right fall apart. But I do. I do fall apart, and it hurts so much. It hurts so much! It’s too much …
I put the diaries away, but they’ve already torn the wound apart, it’s pouring. How could I be so stupid? I’m not strong enough to face my past. It hurts so much! Why did I do this to myself tonight? I don’t wanna remember. And I don’t know how to remember.
And now there are more pieces shattered again. Why, why, WHY!? I don’t want my past to have happened. Why can’t I wipe it all away. I’m sorry that I exist, I can’t take this anymore.