It’s this feeling.
The sinking feeling where my heart feels heavy in my stomach. The feeling of being left, being alone, being here while you are there. The aching feeling of unrest, the physical soreness of my body needing the release but me holding myself back.
I don’t know what triggered me so horrifically today but I know I do not like it in the slightest. I genuinely hope it passes and I can proceed with my week… however, I have been sitting in front of my computer for hours on end and I cannot gather enough motivation to even think about beginning my english homework. I’d really like to know what’s wrong here, either that or I’d like someone to come fix me. I need a few hugs, some pills and some razors. That’s all.
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My mind is racing but the only coherent thought I have is of your skin touching mine and the warm glow of the fact that I am yours.
this is always the way it goes…
I never realize it until it is too late.
I have fully comprehended today, this:
When I have great, enjoyable mornings or halves of days, the second half always is horrible, painful, and hurtful. Or the opposite. I thought I was balanced this morning. But I have come to realize there is never a true balance with me, I guess is what I’m trying to say. Apparently there is no level ground to stand on.
Every day for me is either a) emotionless and blank, b) hateful and hurtful, c) half spent high as a kite & half spent sad and depressed, hateful and hurtful, sick to my stomach, aching chest, just don’t make me live another minute.
I really wish someone would tell me a way to fix this. I think I might need to be put on some medication…
I am going to kill my parents.
I now realize exactly what drives a teenager, or any child, to run away from home. It’s this feeling of being suffocated, not being able to make your own choices, the choices that you seemingly CAN make are shot down upon asking permission. Don’t get me wrong, I have no problem with asking permission, being humble, accepting punishment and taking the answer “no.” But it’s when that “no” is constantly repeated that I start to feel a tightness in my chest, that familiar ache of my head, the taut skin where my scars are.
You say you don’t have to have a reason, fine. But you have to have a reason to continuously shoot my plans down. It’s not the money - I’m funding it. It’s not the issue of my car making it - I just went and bought everything and tuned it up my-fucking-self. You say it’s the schoolwork - of course, because I’m a week ahead?? Obviously it has to be the trust, although you continue to insist, that is not the problem. So what is it?
You confuse the shit out of me. First leading me to believe I have a chance with you this time. Get me thinking maybe this time will be different. Maybe I have a reason to be excited. Gather all my hope and expend it. On this lost cause.
She just walked up behind me and stood there for a full minute, staring at my computer screen. A full fucking 78 seconds. I had to count. It made me claustrophobic. It’s been that way a lot, with me, around here. She closes me in whenever she’s that close. On occasion when she has been trying to brighten my mood she has attempted to poke my sides, and I was so fucking irritated that she invaded my space like that and I hit her hand away. I don’t know what’s wrong with me, but it only happens with her and dad. My stomach is tight, my chest is aching, my throat is burning, at this very minute, I’m getting cold, murderous shivers that aren’t actually shivers but shudders. Involuntary and with every shudder I get the overwhelming urge to harm myself. If my mother does not give me back my phone for getting mad at her over all of this bullshit, and she drives me to school tonight, the only thing you will accurately be able to compare me to is a shaken carbonated drink with a really loose lid - touch it the wrong way, push it in the wrong spot, and it’s exploding all over you.
Just go…. fuck yourself. I’m sick of you, I quit, I don’t know why I set myself up for failure time and time again. I guess I keep hoping you’ll change. When will I realize, you’re not going to…
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