Several weeks ago, I marked myself again. I had thought that I was over all that shit, but I was lying to myself. Call it the lesser of two evils, if you please. Everything was going great, work was fine, and school was okay. Then I got home. Both my mother and father decided to take out all of their frustrations on me. I didn't bother yelling at them, just let them rant and rave while I stood there and cried. After they were through, I grabbed my shit and left the house. I went to a little isolated lot and sat there, tears running down my cheeks. Eventually, I realized that I was muttering the same four words over and over.
"I'm not going insane, I'm not going insane, I'm not going insane...”
As I sat there, I ran through all the shit that happened. None of it made sense. I began thinking about sleep, how nice it would be to escape it all. Then, before I could commit the act, I began putting cigarettes out on my left wrist. After about six of them, I felt my precious self-control returning. I could now face my parents. And I did, and I still live.
The only people who could understand suicide, are the people who have considered it. It's not that we can't face reality, it's that we already have. Life is all one big fucking game. Why not just put it back in its box? Do you honestly think that life will get better? Really? It won't, same shit, different day. The scars I own, the ones that I have created, are testament to the shit that I have put up with. The fact that I am alive, are due to those scars. People look at them with fascination in their eyes.
"What the hell happened to you, girl?"
"Life."
And they look confused. The answer does not fit the question in their minds. They walk away scratching their heads. Matters not.
One day, I'll get away from this bullshit. I don't have to live with my folks forever. Already searching for an apartment.
There must be someone out there who can deal with me. Shawn and I are over. Why? Because I freaked him out. I don't understand. I have always shown my true self. I don't hide. Why is he freaked out now? Well, fuck him. He just can't handle this. And you know what? I don't care any longer.
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