Because I know how people irl will react to the whole situation of 'oh my gawd gurl are those cut marks?!' kind of thing- but I would like a chance to half-justify shit before I actually tell anyone if I ever do.
My shrink doesn't want to see me anymore from what I gathered from our last meeting, which kind of sucks because I put so much fucking trust into that woman that it's just stupid to go around and pretend that it doesn't hurt because god dammit I have trust issues.
I believe that my problems are with the whole 'I'm not normal' situation that's going around in my head- every single time the words 'homosexual', 'gay', 'lesbian' come up it sends another spike into my heart because- guess what world- that's what I am. I am a homosexual gay lesbian in that order because fuck it. And do you know how much fear I live in every single day? My brother threatens me with my life more than he should, hell I should have called the police on him last time that he pulled a knife on me. Everyday he tells me that I should just die because I dance- because I sing to music and he doesn't even know my current standing on things. He is the pure-breed homophobe that I hope all of you white Christians are awful proud of.
My anti-depressants aren't working as well as they had during the winter, and the problem is I can't bring myself to tell my mother because she'll be all like 'oh buck it up girl' at least until I actually show her on the inside of my elbow the straight cuts that kept me awake last night just from the thrill of pain and uncertainty. I don't bleed that much, yes I have attempted cutting myself on my wrists and that wasn't one of the things that worked very well, and this time I bled less with more cuts because more than likely I didn't do it right.
The compulsions that I'm having just to give-the-fuck-up-already are coming so hard that I almost took a good half bottle of sleeping aids just to see if it would really kill me. Thoughts run through my head every single living moment that I have about death, about how I could so easily throw myself under a bus or suicide-by-cop would be a pretty easy one. Suffocating. Bleeding out. Over dose. Jumping off of a cliff.
It's not like I want to die because I hate myself, I want to die because I want to die. As fucked up as it seems I've had these thoughts since before I was of the age of ten.
Every night before I fell to sleep I prayed to god that he would just kill me before the morning so that I could go to heaven- as it had gotten into my head that if a child was under the age of ten they were going to automatically go to heaven no matter what they did.
During my early years of elementary I kept telling myself every day that I had to stay alive because I wanted to be like my big sister- I wanted to be a Caddie at camp and have people love me, so I lived on.
But now, this is my last year of being a Caddie and honestly there is nothing left. I have made big dreams that won't ever come true because honestly, look at me. I am a mess who doesn't know when to stop dreaming. I am a person who can't stop thinking about death or how many hours she's on the computer, or how many whispers are in the air because I am not crazy.
My genes just don't want to reproduce, that would mean that my genes are not ones that should be carried on. So I guess that makes sense for the whole gay thing.
And god knows that I've always been this way, don't give me shit about 'its okay, you can go to church and be saved' because before I even knew what 'gay' was in third grade I confessed to a girl that I loved her, in my own house, before I knew what I was doing.
She went into homeschooling the next year.
so yeah. label me, tell me that i am majorly depressed because of my home situation with my parents and brother. ignore me, tell my parents that it's 'just a phase and she'll come out of it'. just please don't talk to me about it because this is the one and only time that it will ever come from my mouth or fingertips.
i am personally too afraid of everyone if i repeat it more than this.
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