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This diary entry is written by ‹jealousmindsthinkalike.›. ( View all entries )
Previous entry: Natural Fool. in category Hohum, surveys D:

Shit, don't even go there.Category: Vent, I wouldn't ask.
Monday, 27 April 2009
08:03:58 PM (GMT)
I need some fucking help. Dwelling is what I do best, better and better all the time. It's been years and I'm still not over what you did to me. Curtis won't ever understand, he's not going to get what I told him. He probobly thinks I'm just a good faker, and I'm making all this shit up. He doesn't know what happened though, he doesn't know. Since when does family cause you this kind of pain? You've made me feel like dying. Just ending the pain, the thoughts, the memories all of it. Can't you see who I've become because of what you did? I don't think you can, you arn't around. You were supposed to protect me from pain others could inflict on me, but you've made me worse. I'm supposed to be happy, what is so wrong with my life? Nothing, I should have gotten over this shit years ago. But I dwell. It's an ugly cycle. And I'm trying to forget, trying to be happy. I put a smile on my face, and make it through another day. Everything I did last year, was a cry for attention. Can't you see I needed help? I need help. All this added stress, of trying to be happy, trying to get back to me is wearing me down. I'm tired, I need someone to carry me home.

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