Trust Issues 4 Login to Kupika  or  Create a new account 

This diary entry is written by ‹→MemoriesOfAHeartBreak→MilesAway←›. ( View all entries )
Previous entry: Trust Issues 3 in category (general)

Trust Issues 4Category: (general)
Sunday, 15 June 2014
05:13:09 AM (GMT)

To be honest I think bout it every single day. More than once.
For many minutes. I think it would better that way. 
To be 6 ft under. 
But it doesn't fix anything. 
No one would miss me. 
My name wiuld never cross anyones mind. 
My mom would miss me...I think. 
And my animals. 

But it isn't a solution. 
People tell me I'm strong. 
That ill make it and ill be fine
I question that everyday. 
I ask myself if ill be able to make it. 
I know I will be but its the point of when does the fighting stop?
When will I ever be able to just fightinf myself?

I can't explain everything to you but I can try to get you to see maybe a little bit
of mg world.
And maybe understand a tiny bit.  

I just don't know what to do.  
When left to myself I think of cutting. 
I never cut to die or get attention or cry for help. 
I did ir because it was something I could control. 
I control the cut. The blood. The mess. The pain. 
Everything. Its in my control. 

I'm not a control freak. I just like to have control over myself and life. 
Something I never really had. 
The pain tells me that all of this is real. 
Lets me know I'm still alive. 
The blood reminds me I'm only human. 
Tells me that I can easily be hurt. 

I can't explain it better than that. 
Take ir as you will but I know why I do it  
Or why I did it. 

I'm done caring. 
Im dobe showin emotion. 
I'm sick and tired of caring for people that care ffor me. 

I'm alwaus wrong. Even when I'm right. I'm still wrong. 

I fuckin hate it. 
I fucking hate who I am. 

I just hate everythin bout my life. 
Why was I born like this?
I don't even understand.

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