Crazy Problems

It's wrong. So, so wrong.
Nolan is right. I am crazy. I do have crazy problems.
But it's not my fault. I know it isn't. If my mother didn't drink and do drugs while she was pregnant with me, maybe I could have been normal.
I. Could. Have. Been. Normal.
Then I would have friends. Lots of friends.
Or maybe I do have friends.
Their just not involved with Drama.
And that feels so good.
But I am not safe.
The kids in Drama hate me. They are all like Nolan.
Becauae of them my dream to be on stage is gone. The audtions for t.v shows stopped. I could have been good. Great. Amazing.
But the bullying never stops. Ever.
To make it worse, the medication I am taking for my problems does not even work. Not even close. I need a way, way stronger doseage.
Or maybe I just need to run it all away. And just keep running u til I pass out in the street and get ran over and died!
You see? Sick AND crazy.
Nope, I'm just not sick, or crazy. Apprantly I'm a slut too.
But I can't help it if guys are the only people I trust. Ironic..I should hate them. But no Dad in my life. I don't know, maybe I'm needy. Yeah. Sick, crazy, slutty, and needy. Oh! And angry and hating!
I hate a lot of things. People too. I get angry at the smallest of things. And it's the hardest thing to control when I am not at home. When I am home I can let a little out, maybe punch a wall, a brick wall, once in a while. But when I'm alone. I can inflict everything I've been holding in to myself. I can starve. For days. I can run. For hours. I can do sit ups. 542. I can swim lips. Hundereds. Sometimes I will cut my arm and thighs. But my favorite is giant, deep, cut going across my very upper thigh. It's not seeable in short shorts, or no teeshirt. Only if I am wearing a bikini or nothing at all. But I never will. So, it's my favorite. Anytime I get extremly mad or so sad my eyes can't draining water, I will reopen the cut. And blood flows each time. It's awesome. Warm and smooth and dark. It never runs out. There will always be more. And if there isn't. Ha. I definatly won't care about it aha.
SICK!
Just sick. That's disgusting. I need to stop. But I can not. Not only is it escape, but it is an addiction. It is all an addiction. I read once that when your birth mothers addiction to drugs/drinking can make you have an addiction. To almost anything. Okay, I AM ADDICTED. And I need help.
Used to, Bryan would know about my problems and hold me while I cry. Not anymore.
Used to, Alan would give me advice and get me through it. Not anymore.
Used to, Angela made me laugh it all away. Not anymore.
Used to, Joseph was always there when I needed a shoulder. Not anymore.
Now, I have Shay and Payton.
They both know things. Payton more.
But now I don't wish to tell them anything.
What if I completly open, to absolutly everything, and they leave me? Just like the rest of them.
They're my best friends and they have their own problems and I would do anything for them..I love them to death.
But I am terrified my crazy problems will drive them away.
I'm fat.
Ugly.
Slutty.
Angry.
Depressed.
Stupid.
Ridiculous.
Over dramatic.
Stressy.
Alone.
Quiet.
Helpful.
Gullable.
Random.
Determined.
Lovestruck.
Lazy.
Careless.
Reckless.
Helpless.
Hopeless.
Hopeful.
Onry.
Snappy.
Annoying.
Distractful
Hideous.
Talentless.
Bad friend.
Supporter.
Advice giver.
Quote lover.
Writer.
Wannabe actor.
Teacher.
Mom.
Etc.....
Crazy, crazy.
Sorry about my crazy problems.
Sorry, that that ^ wasn't even the beggining.

I am a mess.