My blog is about my problems or just stuff I like/love
What the fuck? *Explicit Language**Trig..?*
Posted December 4th 2015 at 02:29 PM by iambatman
My mom woke me up in the middle of the night because I was talking in my sleep. Seriously? I can't help it. I only talk in my sleep when I am extremely stressed out. She said I was calling her a bitch...Okay? She is. Honestly I am just waiting to move out of here...I have to write an essay before I can go to a school my grandma works at...I'm fine with writing...I just don't get why I have to write a fucking essay for why I think that school will be beneficial....I really want to get sassy and just write "Because I want to go to college."....That's all I can think of why I would want to go to school...I mean, I hate school. But I will do anything to go to college. Literally anything. I feel like I should've died back when I overdosed. Or when I slit my wrists...Or when I tied the noose. But I didn't...I don't believe in God...But something is keeping me here. And I don't want to be here. I honestly don't. I just want my life to be done and over with. I know I have so much to live for...But I don't want to. And I can't tell my mom because she will want to take me to the hospital. And I honestly don't want to go to the hospital in the middle of my school year. The last time I was int the hospital it was May. But I hardly had any class work. The first time I went to the hospital was in February. The second time was in March. The third time was in April....And if I move in with my grandma she will take me to the hospital as soon as I say I am being triggered...Everyone of my grandmas kids has been in the hospital. All of the girls have been in the psych ward. Including me. My sister has never been there though.My aunt was recently hospitalized because she attempted suicide. Again. This time she had to get stitches and staples. The last time I was in the psych ward I had stitches. Because I cut way too deep and almost hit an artery. I didn't feel anything in my arm for 2 months. I was meant to die. Fucking doctors. I wanted to die. My mom could've buried a second child. Everyone would've been happy. If only. My stepdad would have been extremely happy. I would've been happy. When I was in the hospital my mom said my safety didn't matter. Only my brothers. She doesn't think I remember that....I should bring that up in therapy today...She'd be surprised....Anyway....I am tired of everything right now....
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