This is the 2nd time trying to write this. I haven’t written anything in over 8 months, I used to write all my feelings down, and I just stopped.



The last 2 yrs about this time of yr I have been fine. I just ignore it. But this year it’s very hard, I mean way to hard. The last month every time I go to therapy I put on the smile face at first, the I’m ok. But then I just fall apart. My therapist asks If have been thinking of my g-ma, and I say know. She’s like you need to talk about it, and I tell her can we move on. She’s always like you need to talk about it, and not stuff it. But all I can think of is, what if I do. I go there for an 1 hr. I leave upset, I come home and I have all these feeling stewing, and slowly it gets hot, and boils over. All I can think about is the year she died, and I get afraid of myself. I’m afraid of the way I acted, and I don’t know if I can keep myself under control. I still feel bad, and I blame myself for the way I acted, and the places I ended up. And the place that told me, that crying means your emotional unstable. I was always taught to cry, and now that is so fucking hard for me to do. I always feel like I will be punished, because in the sense I was punished for the way I felt, and when I cried I was punished for that. So that leaves me with all this fuck up shit in my head, and I don’t know what to do.  At least sometimes I don’t.



  I went 4 weeks with 2 days no sleep then 3 hrs sleep, then 3 days no sleep, and 3 or 2 hrs sleep, and then 2 or 3 days no sleep. That went on for over a month. I was lacking sleep, and my mind was like gone, I just couldn’t function. So I made a hard choice by the way I felt. I wanted sleep at no cost, I mean none at all. So my mom was gone, and I called my therapist, and told her I can’t do this anymore, and I needed her to help me through a decision, and we did. I told my mom and we went to the hospital. I was there for a week, which was a waste. I didn’t hardly sleep, they kept trying all these things, and I still couldn’t. The last night I slept 7 hrs, and I begged to go home. Not because I felt better, but because X-mas was 4 days away. I didn’t care what was on my mind. I just wanted out of there. I don’t know why I always put on this stupid I’m ok, but honestly I’m not. In my head I’m screaming. But I don’t know why it’s so fucking hard for me to just say I’m not ok. I had though my meds hard been upped when I was in the hospital but when I got home, I had realized they hadn’t. So on the 30th when I saw my therapist I was ok at first. The old happy face, and then bam it felt like someone had slapped me. I just cried, and I didn’t talk. She asks me stuff I just told her I’m ok. We really didn’t talk except the first 15 mins. My sleeping was fucked up again. I went 1 fucking week with ok sleep. She told me to call her, after I saw the Dr. on the 2nd. But you know what he didn’t up my meds, no even though I know that’s what I need. He asked me if I had suicidal idealizations, I sad a little. He asked me if I needed to go back, I said no. I can take myself if I feel like it. What a crock of shit. The whole time when I saw Julie when I started to cry, and I didn’t talk was because he’s knows me to much, and if I did she would know what was up. I came home that day got in my pj’s, laid in bed with my headphones on and didn’t eat nothing except a cookie earlier that morning. I couldn’t move in the bed, I couldn’t sleep. I only had one thing on my mind. But it’s nothing I can say out loud if though I need to tell someone. But it’s not even all organized. But I know that shouldn’t be even be the thing, it’s the whole thinking of it, and wanting it.



Then here is the 2nd thing. I was feeling like all this then here is Jan 1st, and I was like it’s a new year a new beginning. But it’s not like those thoughts are far away anyway.

I find a friends I hadn’t seen in maybe 15 yrs, which made my new year when I have been feeling like shit. So my one friend Sandi, finally was able to keep plans with me. I hadn’t been out with any of my friends, or seen any since July when my friend Kelly Doty was up here staying at my BFF Veronica’s apt. So I was feeling like shit with no human friend connection. I have been so bored out of mind. My bff was moving somewhere I had no idea was at, she lost her only phone (her cell). Then my other friend tells me she can’t go to breakfast anymore over a policy, but I can call her sometimes. So what that left me was with my friend Sandi. Then Jr. High friends came back int he picture just when I needed friends. But what do I say, to the friends I haven’t seen in probably 15 yrs. That yeah I’m ok, but I’m not. I went out with Sandi, went to dinner, went to the movies, laughed my ass off. But I came home, and I still felt like shit. Then I went to the party last night. I was kind of anxious, and scared, and excited. I hadn’t drank in over a year, and I wasn’t going to. But I knew if there were people I didn’t know, then the only way I’m going to be able to join in and socialize is to loosen up. So I bought some alcohol, I left it in the car, to see if I could do it without it. But I was feeling really shy, and I was trying but I still didn’t feel ok. So I got the alcohol. I drank, and then I had fun. I laughed so much my jaw hurt. But then I came down hard.  I just couldn’t handle the whole being around anyone, but I also couldn’t drive. Then I didn’t bring my new pills to sleep, so I couldn’t sleep. But I tried. I fell asleep a few times later 2 day, but not long. Because I would have a nightmare. I hate the fucking nightmares. I have no idea why the started. I know it might be the meds not being right. I was doing really, really good with everything. Except not being around anyone socially. But what do you do, when your over someone’s place, and you haven’t seen them maybe in 15 yrs, and you feel bad. When there are to many people around, or all this stuff is happening. And when asked if your ok, you say yes. I feel like such a douche for not saying no I’m not ok. Then I drove home, I have no clue how I even got home. I know I was out of it in my own little world. I came home got in my pj’s, locked my door, put on my headphones, and got online.



 Truly I had fun, but you know what I shouldn’t apologize for feeling like shit, that’s just how I feel. I’m mean I tried to soak up the fun, but ti didn’t take. Probably the meds. But then there leaves the whole thoughts again. Thurs. Jan. 8th will be 4 yrs at 3am, and I am having a hard time. And it’s like a double edged sword. If I don’t it’s bad, and if I do it probably will be bad to.  So anyway I’m fucked. So where does that leave me. I’m sitting here boiling on the edge, and ready to go over.  I want to take my stupid gift card I got so I could pay something off, get the pin code, take all the money off it, and use it to go away. Not tell anyone just leave. But it’s all the effort in doing it. I’m just tired. Then there is the whole sleeping pills the Dr. gave me when I told him the way I felt. They used to give me those when I was out of control hurting myself, and I had to be restrained. How could you give something that potent to someone like me, when I told him about what was the 8th. I look at them, and I think I want to. But then I think about all the punishments. Ever since I went to the fucking state place everything that I could used to do, I feel like is a punishment, like when I ask for help, or I cry. I don’t want to feel any of the shit. I don’t want to dream about that fucking place. I don’t want to dream of the last time I saw my g-ma’s face. I just want to all go away. I keep trying and trying, and I end up in the same fucking place, over and over. I want it to all end. I can’t keep going on like this, it is killing me. I mean to go to the Dr., and him tell me my heart is skipping beats. My heart was broken, and I keep trying to go on.

I’m just so confused right now. I’m sitting here thinking that I might tomorrow call my therapist and cancel my appt. on Tues. I can’t go there, and let her see me, and then leave. 



I left my chair, and went to the bathroom. And now my fucking train of though is gone. FUCCCKKK!!!



I keep not just thinking of the one thing. I  also want to cut again. I mean I hate the scars, esp. the ones that I did after g-ma died. But I look and look, and I want to feel the release. I don’t want to think any of this. I promised myself I would never ever do any of it again. I tell myself it’s just a bad day, that it will be better. But I keep saying that and I did believe it, but now I’m starting not to. 

    I am so numb. I’m going to stop, and just take my sleeping pill. So I can be asleep, and the time will pass. Because I’m like edgy, and I have all this stuff jumbled going a million miles an hour. And if I don’t I’m going to do something without even thinking before I do.