Sometimes i just want to get away from everything. Just run away. The only problem is I don't know where to go anymore. Thing have just hit me like a bullet train and stopped me. Ive relapsed three times in the last month. My wrists look like a cutting board. I just, at this point in time I would swallow a bottle of pills if it meant i could get away from the constant sadness.
It's so ridiculous. And the worst part is I can't just wish it away anymore. The thoughts don't leave. They linger in my head for hours. Whispers of how im the fuck up. Im the issue. Im the cancer that needs to be cut out of the host.
When did that become my life? When did I start thinking the world was ending? Is it?
I just wish I could be around people who gave good vibes. Instead of feeling completely hated. Im a stranger to my mother.
And god knows she doesn't have a clue that my wrists go red, or that i wish it was all over.
I told my grandpa yesterday evening, Or the day before that. Its hard to recall.
I told him that ive been self harming, and that I don't feel safe with myself anymore.
I don't know what to do anymore.
Who the fuck am I supposed to go to?
Who the fuck is going to save me?
I went straight down the vein this last time, hard.
I didn't cut anything to deep, but I thought about it.
Then I threw on a long sleeve and tried to convince them to send me back to therapy.
Gramps was really calm about it.
I think he's worried now.
I wonder what mom would think if she came home and found me in the bathroom.
Im scared.
And I don't know what to do.
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