Categories > Original > Drama > The Caffeinated Diaries
22th July 2010.
6:37, TL.
As you (whoever reads this, man, I know there is, I know there's at least one person who comes back to this for whatever sick reason) may have noticed, I don't put warnings on the chapters, or ratings or genres. I've just given up.
Just minutes ago, I was down stairs. Having a break down. I had another breakdown, for the first time in a very long time. There razorblades, but they don't cut. So I got every knife in my house, and I counted just there, I tried to cut myself at least 10 times, on the same arm. And I'm not feeling any better. None of the knives would hardly go through my skin. I even used a massive butcher knife. I kid you not. Man, why would I be kidding?
Just as I finished that last line, my phone rang, it was my mother, she asked if I was still going camping. Now, to any other person this would be normal. But it's made me happy to know she has actually listened to me and remember the stuff I've said and actually cared about something. Just trust me in saying it's big. I could almost cry.
My arm looks pretty disgusting. But I'm used to it right. I think the thing that really triggered it was that I was reading this story on a webiste and the layout was this boy, he was pretty, then I realised, man, that could have been me. It sounds weird and stuff, but the tears came. Then everything else came. I sat in my living room just crying. I honestly can't take it anymore. How can I live being someone I really wasn't supposed to be? How can I live being the complete oppsiste gender? Alot of people just won't understand how bad it really is. But it's killing me on the inside so much. I'm completely broken. I've completely fallen apart. I've fallen over the edge. I know I'll turn back into my zombie like state like I was years ago. I've stopped eating too. I've got nowhere else to write this, so I hope the person who does read this thinks I'm not pathetic. Hell I am, but I've got nowhere else to tell this to. Or anyone. My best friend doesn't want to spend time with me anymore. That's another story. The only person I can talk to about all this, and still doesn't know it all, is Claire D. But she's not back yet. But I know she has problems too.
All I want is for someone to really care, to hug me and stay up with me and confort me. Because through all the years, I've never had that, I've never had someone I could cry to.
6:37, TL.
As you (whoever reads this, man, I know there is, I know there's at least one person who comes back to this for whatever sick reason) may have noticed, I don't put warnings on the chapters, or ratings or genres. I've just given up.
Just minutes ago, I was down stairs. Having a break down. I had another breakdown, for the first time in a very long time. There razorblades, but they don't cut. So I got every knife in my house, and I counted just there, I tried to cut myself at least 10 times, on the same arm. And I'm not feeling any better. None of the knives would hardly go through my skin. I even used a massive butcher knife. I kid you not. Man, why would I be kidding?
Just as I finished that last line, my phone rang, it was my mother, she asked if I was still going camping. Now, to any other person this would be normal. But it's made me happy to know she has actually listened to me and remember the stuff I've said and actually cared about something. Just trust me in saying it's big. I could almost cry.
My arm looks pretty disgusting. But I'm used to it right. I think the thing that really triggered it was that I was reading this story on a webiste and the layout was this boy, he was pretty, then I realised, man, that could have been me. It sounds weird and stuff, but the tears came. Then everything else came. I sat in my living room just crying. I honestly can't take it anymore. How can I live being someone I really wasn't supposed to be? How can I live being the complete oppsiste gender? Alot of people just won't understand how bad it really is. But it's killing me on the inside so much. I'm completely broken. I've completely fallen apart. I've fallen over the edge. I know I'll turn back into my zombie like state like I was years ago. I've stopped eating too. I've got nowhere else to write this, so I hope the person who does read this thinks I'm not pathetic. Hell I am, but I've got nowhere else to tell this to. Or anyone. My best friend doesn't want to spend time with me anymore. That's another story. The only person I can talk to about all this, and still doesn't know it all, is Claire D. But she's not back yet. But I know she has problems too.
All I want is for someone to really care, to hug me and stay up with me and confort me. Because through all the years, I've never had that, I've never had someone I could cry to.
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