Stay.

I'm sorry about missing a post in the last two days, it's quite hard when you're writing another page for two websites [one of them is this one], and when you also want to talk to you online friend, and supply support for other three guys.
So, it's five thirty, and you're fucking important.
Yesterday, in my helplessness, I've cut.
Yes, yes... On Kippur.
I feel like the most pathetic sinner of this day.
"Hey Dvash, did you fast?"
"Well, kind off, I broke it because of electronics and I've cut things."

Wait, there are the ones who eat behind their family's backs.
That's pathetic in my opinion, it's you religious duty, and it's really easy. Really.
There are some people who aren't fucked up who'd agree.
I say it because my mother and I aren't examples.


Well, as you can see, the image is in greyscale.
Why? Tumblr reasons.
More aesthetic.
Anyway, yesterday, I think I never reached the fat, and all I did was to break skin, because there was a layer that I simply couldn't cut through.
Now, if I think about it, I'm afraid that if I will, I'm going to need stitched, and that's not good!
I'm afraid sometimes that I'd never be okay.
I mean, never.
An actual corrupted piece of flesh that nobody wants simply because of how damaged it is.
I'm not even talking about the insides, it's the outside.
Having sex would be weird.
And getting stitches would be even worse...  Fuck I'm a moron for going there again.
I don't know even why I thought that I should!
But it's too good, loving, relaxing...
Why should I stop?
I mean, there's nothing wrong with me but that, right? So I'm okay.
I don't have any eating disorder, or I suffer from a mental illness.
All I got is a bit of hypochondriac behaviour, anxiety in a bit higher than normal when it comes to social things, but that's okay.
I'm sane.
Oh, I am.
That's why I'm stuck in therapy for an eternity, because they can't find what's wrong with me, because I'm perfectly fine.
Nothing corrupted, nothing messed up, nothing curable, nothing that would allow me be myself without involving death.

But it's exhausting to go there, and this person that you see once a week and remembers what you said.
It's spooky.
I remember only the triggers and the lies I've heard.
About how "good" and "kind" I am. Ha.
About her, talking about her previous patients, or about other children and marking our differences.

For fuck's sake, just let me label myself already!
It took you long enough.
I can do it pretty well, my friends can do it pretty well, only you take centuries.
I'm a fucking stupid child on it's way for the title "teenager".
That's fucking all.
Not that hard.

Now, I suggest going to treating the others, starting with my sister and my friend, Yael.
Their perfectionism is going to kill them at the end.
I'm alright, I'm going to die from being irresponsible and probably a car accident, or who knows, just an illness.
Yeah, as much as my body is strong, it probably would have something with illness.
Or who knows, I might be murdered.
It's not like crime scenes are rare!
And that in the Arab towns they refuse that the police would come around, and there is absolutely zero gun control, not far from today, a boy got shot from a stray bullet, shot at the ecstasy of the celebration.

I feel like something's wrong in this life.
I don't know, it's perfect, sure, but something's missing.
Love? No.
Friendship? No.
Her? Maybe.


I'm back from school.
I've been thinking about it for quite a while, and I really want to meet Omri.
The problem is that we live very far away from each other, we're very different about many things, and I'm really embarrassed and I'm afraid I might lose him after he'll see me, and talk to me.
I'm awful, I know I'm awful, but I don't want to lose somebody, especially when he's a danger to himself.

I have to go to practise soon, but I don't want to, I want to rest... Be in peace.
But I can't, I have so many things on my head now... Wow.
On Sunday I got the practise, on Monday, straight after school I got the Mashatz meeting, which is pretty hip.
Yes I said hip, I feel like it fits pretty well, oldish slang to fit the oldish thing.
Mashatz is a young guider for Shalech, and that means Field, Nationality, Society.
In the English version we can call it YFG [Young FN"L Guider].
The stereotypical one wears some weird hat, loose shirts [sometimes they match], trousers that fit, closed shoes, a guitar, a huge overpacked backpack, and sometimes a darabuka.





I'm back from the practise.
I'm so lost now, but with it, I'm not any different than I was thirty minutes ago.
I want to cut.
I feel like everybody hates me, like they all think that I'm trying to show off, but they all laugh, because I have nothing to show off about.
I feel like I'm failing everyone.... At least I'm not discriminating everyone.
I have no idea what to do in spontaneous social events, and I had no idea what to do when I saw Michael earlier.
 I have no idea if I'd be able to speak with Omri tomorrow, or in a couple of hours from now, he's not sure either.
He just sent me "Bye Dvash I'm leaving"
I don't want that he'll go.
Never.
Please.

I can't do it anymore, this fucking hell.
I'm tired of making them worried, all of them.
I'm tired of disappointing them, each one and one of them.
I'm tired of making them hate themselves, and then making them depressed... And suicidal.
I'm tired of making them feel like they aren't good enough.
I'm tired of hurting them.



I don't know what to do, I wish I had a fucking idea about what I should do, but I have no idea, Omri is telling me that he's going to commit suicide, but I can't see him just go.
I should stop crying, my parents would come in and ask.
I don't want him to go.
He's a good friend, and even though we're so different, he's a fucking good person.


I don't know what to do.
I think I'm going to bathe the filth of me, and then I'd do as usual, experiment with my new thing I've found... Maybe I never broke skin, and today I will.

I just can't.
I hurt everybody.
All the time.
I hate myself, why do I always do it?!
I want to end myself once again.
Fucking wonderful.


I've cut myself, shallower than usual, or at least that's what I feel.
I guess I'm too nervous, I wish he'll stay.

Good night.