you don’t understand
It’s hard when you need to break but your ego is too big even for yourself. I hate myself. I don’t know why, it’s a mystery to me as well as you. Maybe I’m angry at myself for whatever reason. I’m tired of wanting to kill myself in such brutal ways. I need something new. I need something safe. I’m not safe to myself anymore. I have to have a cigarette every night to calm my nerves and then my pill and hope it works fast so I can fall asleep, so I don’t snap. I want to break down and cry, I do. But, I can’t. I don’t know why. It’s hard not knowing who you walk around as. You feel like you’re wrong body. I’m not happy, I don’t know if I ever was. I got hurt, I got fucked over. I loved her, and she broke me. I have scars, not physical. But, mental and emotional. I’m a ball of anger, stress, and depression and I don’t know when I’ll break for real. I’ve cried, I’ve been hysterical. But, I haven’t broken. I don’t know if I will.. I don’t know if I can. I wish I didn’t have this wall so god damn high, I wish I could talk and say what I want to on my lunch breaks, therapy sessions, drug classes and AA meetings. But, I can’t. I can’t even tell my mom. I imagine running into poles when I drive, imagine cutting my veins in my wrist and arms at work when I look at box cutters. I wish I could feel something other than pain. It’s unbearable. I wish I did kill myself. I wish the pills worked. I imagine a heaven, but I’m not in it. Everything is so dull when I look at it. I’m emotionless. I wish the wound healed. But, I’m told it never will, subconsciously that is. I wish I had the balls to end it. I really do. Being sober is hard. Now I can’t escape. Reality is too real. It’s a lot to take in at 17. The memories fade so fast. So does happiness and hope. I don’t have hope. I have wishes of happiness and success. I do. But, I don’t have the energy to get it. This is the deepest I’ve gone into this feeling. The feeling of emptiness is a strong feeling. But, it’s a feeling. A sick comforting feeling. Everyone looks so happy and perfect with life and I feel like everything I’ve been through, I deserve it, but “god” has something else planned for me. Usually I can foresee things. I don’t foresee being alive in 3 years. I don’t foresee my kids like I used to. Things change. I get jealous when I hear about people killing themselves. How fucked is that. Why couldn’t I trade them places? But, on the other hand, I wouldn’t wish this feeling on the most evil person in the world. I really fucking wouldn’t. Music helps, for so long. Not anymore though. Nothing does. Nothing helps me anymore, nobody can… But, they all try. I won’t let people in.