So, I found out today that my teacher, Mr. W, passed away on the tenth. My friend heard a rumor so then I asked my teacher and she confirmed it... Apparently the school didn't even notify her and she was Mr. W's co-teacher for YEARS. And they didn't even have the courtesy to tell her? It's no fair. She didn't even know any of the wake and funeral information.

My dad found his obituary. His funeral is on Monday. My sister who also had him as a teacher is taking me there. It's quite...

Today, May 18, makes one year since my dog, Misty, passed away. Part of me feels really guilty that I was able to go about my day like it was nothing, like I shouldn't be sad. I had set my alarm to wake me up at 9 AM, the time that she was put down last year, but I somehow managed to sleep through it. So I guess maybe writing this will make me feel something? Maybe I'll even cry. But that's okay, because I feel as if I need to today.

Not a day goes by where I don't think of her, though....

I just found out...
I didn't want to believe it at first, hoped that I was just jumping to conclusions since it was so late when I was told.
Rest in peace my friend <3

Oh God, I went back on your profile to see what our last conversation was about. It took place on November 6th and 7th, 2011. The last time I ever talked to you. You were trying to get me to go into the chat room but I didn't have the time.
I'm so fucking sorry for not going into chat that day, for...

I am trying so damn hard. I can't take this. I'm supposed to be recovering?! If I could find my damn razor, I would cut myself. I have been cut free for how long now, and as soon as I want to do it, I can't. I am tired of hiding everything from everyone I know. Especially my wonderful, loving boyfriend. I HATE hiding things from him. We have been together for 2 years and 6 months, and yet I hide this from him.
Plus, he leaves in less than 2 months for Marines basic training and then...

So, I was addicted to cutting from 7th grade until 11th (I just ended my Junior year), but in January I went to the hospital for trying to kill myself. I went again in March because the week I spent in January didn't do much good and I tried to kill myself again, but this time I asked for help before I cut too deep. I have ugly scars all up and down my arms and legs and I hate them. I haven't cut since April, though, which is a big thing for me. Over the past few weeks, my dad and I have been...