complain
2002-05-25, 2:32 p.m.

i am dead.

how trite am i, how trite is this? i come on here to vent, to cry, to get pity perhaps? its all been done. the world is sad. who am i to try to say i am sadder.

but i am losing my mind. and perhaps i dont know what else to do but to come here and hope someone will listen, someone will understand. someone wont try to out do me, or play down the situation.

someone will know that yes, i really do think my world is collapsing and i really do think that i am the only one whos ever felt like this. i really really do.

im losing my mind. i really am. i listen to myself driving myself mad. oh another trite term "driving myself mad" but i am. i think one thing, think it sounds weird, so it plays in my head over and over till i hold my head and scream to make it stop.

I am making myself go mad.

I am mad. At today. At the world. At myself.

I stare at one forearm full of jaged cuts, fresh cuts, old cuts, old scars, newer scars. i reliaze there is no room on this arm anymore. no where. i use to be able to remember what was from when, what caused me to do it, now its all the same.

my other arm is starting to look like my left full of the cuts. soon there will be no room left there too. where next? my face? ah, the root of my pain. i hear tormenting noises, i see tormenting things, i eat with my crooked teeth. i hate when i eat. i hate my face.

i hate the cut down my face. i cant keep doing this.

but, what else is there to do? i am dead. what difference does it make.

going to a therapist, made me feel slightly hopeful. now it just makes me feel dumb. like i have no problems but if i hurt all over, is that natural?

perhaps, the whole world feels this way. perhaps, i just complain too much.

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