My Mind Is Screaming; Please Shut It Off.

I don't even have the ambition to do my usual font=times new roman, indent routine. Or my Warnings about extreme depression. I feel like I won't even end up putting this up for prying eyes, but at the same time I know I will because I have no one else to talk to. It's one in the morning and all my friends are asleep and all I can think about is either pulling one of the very pretty sharp knives out from the cutlery drawer and drawing pretty lines on my skin, or flying from my mother's fourth floor balcony. I can't decide. This is going to be a mess but I can't think straight. A month ago I was kick out of my father's house for not keeping my room clean enough. He threatened to have the police forcibly remove me, so my mother came and collected me. Now I've been sleeping on her couch, and over the weekend I did a lot of baking for a Biology project. There was a big mess but today has been a lazy day so I didn't feel like doing the dishes right away. She got home and started freaking out about it, and me being the retarded teenager I am, I decided ignoring her was the best approach. Don't mind me, I hate authority. Now she's told me not only is she getting rid of all of my pets, which are currently still residing at my father's acreage, but I also have until five tomorrow night to get out. I threw my computer on the ground, had a little melt down where I literally couldn't speak and it was all I could do not to start smashing things, and then she blamed me for something else and I punched the wall. Now being a non-boxer woman, I'm not very strong. My hand hurts more than the wall. But sadly, that was not the end of it. Tonight is also the night my best friend, ex-boyfriend, and guitarist decided to tell me he has matured and now realizes what a catch I am and that he's super sorry for messing up in the past and that he, basically, wants to try again. He asked if I still loved him. I told him I did, but not in the way that he thought, and that I had no idea if I'm a lesbian or Pan or Bi or if I'm just a crazy mix of all of it, and he got awkward and said he wanted to sleep. So now he won't talk to me for a few months and I can't not have him right now, he's my best friend and I need him here to distract me from everything. I'm going to get a paycheck from my job in less than two weeks and if it's big enough I'm packing a bag and I'm going to get on a bus. I don't care where I end up, I don't care if I have enough money to feed myself when I get where I'm going. I just know I can't stay here anymore.

Excuse me. My skin is singing and I need to answer it. Adios.


Please shut it off. I just want to stop thinking. I have to stop thinking. I just want it to end I can't do it anymore. I can't hide behind walls and smile and laugh and pretend anymore I can't do it. Please make it stop. please i can't i just can't do it no one believes me why why she says i have to stop blaming her but i can't blame myself, because if it's my fault then i can't do anything right and whats the point in living if all life is is a series of miserable failures? there's no point none at all so why am I still here?

why am i still here

 

i want to speak in proper english, but my mind just keeps screaming can't get out. can't survive. can't talk. can't escape. there's nothing sharp enough in this house. serrated knives tears, ruin. i want it to be pretty. elegant. nothing sharp enough. all dull, just makes my skin twitch. not sharp enough.

 

is it bad that i just started laughing? there are plenty of things i can do to distract myself, but none that any of you will condone. don't worry i know that's not what you were suggesting. but my mind instantly went there. sadly, as mentioned above, there are currently no sharp objects nor any sharpening tools in this house. i shall fix that tomorrow when i end up skipping school because no one is here to take me and i live in canada and it's too cold to walk across town.

 

Is it so wrong to just want to sleep? Is it so wrong to feel? How, how can it be wrong, when without feeling we cannot be human? I ask you, what is the point if every choice, every feeling, every attempt at communication is judged, ridiculed, and thrown away like yesterday's trash?

I don't understand what the point is anymore. There is no light at the end of this tunnel. Because it's not a tunnel; it's a hole that I've been thrown into, and they're backing up the dump truck now. They're going to bury me alive and there's nothing I can do to stop them. I'm not sure I want to stop them.