Wow… so, I’m still alive (sadly) but a whole lot has happened these last two days… to start… well, I actually don’t know where to start, so… um, I did end up going to the hospital, but thank God it wasn’t the school’s doing, like, they still have no idea, and that’s good and bad because I wouldn’t be here in school if they knew about anything. Last time, they discovered I had… harmed myself… in school, and they wouldn’t let me back in unless I had some special form signed. So I had missed a wee being in the hospital, then another week trying to get the paper that would let me back in school, and yeah. I’m just sososo relieved I didn’t have to go through all of that again… but I don’t know. My father came to pick me up, and he brought me home. I didn’t, couldn’t say a word, and so he got reallyreally pissed. He had picked me up that morning, so I spent an entire day locked alone in my room with a very hot hair-straitener and a too-dull-to satisfy knife. You may connect the dots… i stayed quiet and alone until I was driven to near insanity, about to just get up and grab a bottle of asprin or something, anything, while my father was sitting doing his workworkwork in the next room. Instead, I asked if I could just, please, go someplace for the night, I needed to get out of the house, away from him, away from everything, just needed a distraction. But nonono this isn’t his fault that I’m so screwed up and I told someone something about him and he’s going to call the police and report me as a run-away if I try to leave. I don’t care, I tell him. I just need to get out, go on a walk something anything. So I leave, walk out th front door, and he fallows of course, sososososo angry… stupid that I keep walking, right? He screamed and yelled at me all the way down the street in front of all our neibors about how I was being a dramatic, over-reacting little shit, and I’m a f*cking screwed up failer and all that. I keep walking for whatever reason and he won’t leave and eventually it becomes too much so I scream at him to screw off and he flips shit on me about even more… then he comes to the conclusion that, yes, he will leave, and he’ll go home and read everything in my journals. That gets me, of course, but he takes off in the other direction and I have no way of getting back before him… he blocks the way inside and when I try to reach around him and open it he shoves and slaps me away. He can’tcan’tcan’t read those, no way in hell can he read those journals. Those are my life, everything I’ve ever lied about, everything inside me. He can’t see them. He manages to literally slam the door on my hand and lock me out, so I run to a neibors, who’s also a paramedic, for help because my father’s out of controld and he CANNOT READ THE JOURNALS… she sits and talks to me, trying to calm me down… she knew about my previous stay at the hospital, she was working that night, and so she asked about it and found out everything. I couldn’t lie, I was done lying. Sher told me she had to take me to the hospital, and that she could probably convince them that I was ok enough to live with her and I wouldn’t have to stay as impatient again unless they say otherwise. They examined the damage, decided I didn’t need stitching up, though I came sososo close, and made me wait a long, painful night alone in the ER to at last be released in the morning. My neibor spoke with my father, somehow convinced him to not only stay with her for a while but also to get me a new phone with texting for my own safety… that sort of balanced everything out a bit, and now that thing’s are calming down… well, I don’t know how I feel about everything. But… yeah. They’re going to get me real help and this time, I’m going to get better, they say. Bull shit. There’s nothing I can say or do, though, and I’m just increadibly relieved to finally be out of that house with my father, and I am truly happy about the cell phone, though that’s not a really important factor… so I think that’s all…