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(Trig?) Done.
Posted November 15th 2010 at 04:24 PM by LlamaLlamaDuck
I started so many things I wish I hadn’t.
I stayed up too late last night. I knew it was a stupid thing to do. I knew I’d feel horrible today. But I did. It got to the point that I couldn’t stop crying because all I wanted was to sleep. To forget. So I tore my arm apart instead. I don’t regret that, if I’m honest. Actually while I’m being honest, I’m quite happy to do that again tonight. Because I realised, I don’t care anymore. I don’t care who notices that I refuse to eat. I don’t care who sees what’s on my arms. I don’t care who realises that I don’t bother looking before crossing busy roads. There’s a part of me that actually wants to be hit by a car. And another part that thinks that’d be too painful. That it’d be too easy to survive that because someone would call an ambulance.
I can already buy paracetamol and ibuprofen. Just wait until I’m 18 and can buy blades and matches and alcohol and anything from the pharmacy aisle that might harm me. It’s going to be a blast. Nights of blood and alcohol and whatever cocktail of drugs I happen to have on me at the time.
Mum still gets the co-codamol. I’m not sure why, he doesn’t take it anymore. I realised that the first time, I could have been as little as 6 pills from killing myself. At least I know where I made the mistake. My doctor said to go back if things got worse. As always, she told me to call an ambulance/get to a hospital or make an emergency appointment with her if I wanted to cut or felt suicidal. Now why on earth would I do that? They’d just stop me.
I don’t want to be stopped. I don’t care anymore. I’m feeling so self destructive and I really don’t care if it kills me this time.
I stayed up too late last night. I knew it was a stupid thing to do. I knew I’d feel horrible today. But I did. It got to the point that I couldn’t stop crying because all I wanted was to sleep. To forget. So I tore my arm apart instead. I don’t regret that, if I’m honest. Actually while I’m being honest, I’m quite happy to do that again tonight. Because I realised, I don’t care anymore. I don’t care who notices that I refuse to eat. I don’t care who sees what’s on my arms. I don’t care who realises that I don’t bother looking before crossing busy roads. There’s a part of me that actually wants to be hit by a car. And another part that thinks that’d be too painful. That it’d be too easy to survive that because someone would call an ambulance.
I can already buy paracetamol and ibuprofen. Just wait until I’m 18 and can buy blades and matches and alcohol and anything from the pharmacy aisle that might harm me. It’s going to be a blast. Nights of blood and alcohol and whatever cocktail of drugs I happen to have on me at the time.
Mum still gets the co-codamol. I’m not sure why, he doesn’t take it anymore. I realised that the first time, I could have been as little as 6 pills from killing myself. At least I know where I made the mistake. My doctor said to go back if things got worse. As always, she told me to call an ambulance/get to a hospital or make an emergency appointment with her if I wanted to cut or felt suicidal. Now why on earth would I do that? They’d just stop me.
I don’t want to be stopped. I don’t care anymore. I’m feeling so self destructive and I really don’t care if it kills me this time.
Total Comments 1
Comments
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Nat, I'm really sorry to see your struggling so much. Please don't give up, we would miss you so much! You may not care, but I certainly do.
I'm here for you
I love you xxxPosted November 15th 2010 at 09:36 PM by Nomophobia
