2002-06-17, 7:17 p.m.
kill me faster with strawberry gashes all over
i'm really tired. really tired. my back hurts. and my body wont stop shaking.
i think everyone and myself is just waiting for something to happen. good or bad. i dunno. im a mess.
pale white skin with strawberry gashes all over
my throat hurts. kill me. please. i just need something to happen.
i dont know how to stress how tired i am of thinking and life right now.
how tired i am of all these annoying people who are overly concerned and bug me every 10 seconds.
tired of my god damn youth pastor knowing i am trying to lose weight and says god damn comments like "how much weight ARE you losing?" when i fucking know im not losing hardly any. ive been going up from 101-105 for the past couple of weeks. just shut up about my weight you stupid ass hole.
i dont even think klif could make me feel any better unless he came over and took my sobbing body in a tight ball and took his arms and wrapped them around me and rocked me and told me he loved me and everything will be all right. i want klif.
i just want to die. and get out of this mess. i stare at a line of 80 sleeping pills. 80 exactly. i counted them all. 3 times i counted them. one by one. and i stare at two perfectly full glasses of water.
i stare at my arms. and the mess ive made.
i stare at my stomach. fat. no matter how hard i try.
i stare at my room. i cant clean it. too tired. i hold my head and try to block out the beeping. im not hearing it. its not real. i hold my head harder. and plug my ears harder. and scream. scream so loud my mother finally stops talking. shes banging on my door asking why i screamed. make her stop. make the voices stop. make her stop. i cant stand her fucking voice. i blast my music louder. i hear a scream in the distance. i reliaze its my own.
i think of what i said to my therapist in sobs last week. "its like keeping someone alive in a hospital that is dying of cancer and there is nothing anyone can do anymore. They are just suffering and waiting to die. just pull the fucking cord."
just pull the fucking cord. the line of sleeping pills reminds me of a cord. just pull it cord of pills. pills in a cord. swallow the cord i stare. line of pills. cord. pull. now. music in the background plays:
"and all i can think of are ways to die alone"
i pick up a pill. stick it on my tongue. raise the glass of water.
so it begins.