I take comfort in words. They make sense of the bullshit that is my brain.
I always try to help people, whenever I can.
No one seems to want to help me. I know they just don't realise that I need it but I do.
So, this isn't a cry for help. I've done that, with my songs and poems. This is me trying to understand what goes on in my head.
I don't wanna talk to anyone and I don't want help.
You know I went through a period of not being able to sleep without a light on last year. I wasn't scared of the dark. I was scared of the thoughts that came with the dark.
I've self harmed before. People never get why, though. They say:
"Doesn't it hurt?"
Well yeah, dipshit, that's the fucking point.
The thing with me is I feel. A lot. That might not make sense but I feel more than I should. I get emotional attachments to strangers and I read into things way more than I should.
But at the same time I don't feel anything. I'm numb, going through the motions all of the time. Every day is the same. I get up, get ready and go to school. At school, I wait for the next lesson. Then I wait for break. Then I wait for the next lesson. Then I wait for lunch. Then I wait for the next lesson. Then I wait for the last lesson. Then I wait to go home.
Then I go home and I wait for food. Then I eat food and I wait for bed. Then I go to bed and I wait to sleep.
Every day is the same for me. I get happy, I get sad, but I'm just waiting for something to change.
So I feel and I'm numb.
Self harming, that makes it go away. It focuses my mind on the pain so there's nothing else and nothing else matters. I don't want it anymore. But I need it. Because when I try to stop, there's nothing to keep me from killing myself. Hell, I don't want to die.
That's the mistake people make. They think that when people self harm they want to die. I do it so I can live. Do you know how many times I've gone into the bathroom and just stared at a bottle of bleach? I don't know, it's that many. It scares me.
I don't wanna hurt anyone
But I'm hurting myself
But it doesn't matter