Wrists. Again.

My extremities are numb again.
It's fucking painful, I wear now gloves, sadly they are loose and fingerless because that's the only type we got in home.
They are also black and I'm not sure if I'd wear them at school, I get enough from wearing my blacks.
Oh-oh-oh! I can always say that it's my way to get more connected to religion, whether it's Islam or Judaism. [Yes, we do have some that dress up like fucking Talibans!]
Anyway, I was happier than expected, seriously, amazing.
Nothing matters any more!
I'll probably decide one time to "fuck it" and cut exactly where I spotted
Which can be almost hidden by these gloves!
Oh, perfect!

Here's the photo.
I'd rather cut on the artery without the nerve, because then I'd need some major explanation, I don't have the power for explaining, I don't have the power to skip so many things.
And it would be pretty easy to hide, I got my elastic bandages, and like every other legitimate child that belongs to the sports class, and I'd be able to continue the joke that some of my friends and I don't belong there because we're not physically damaged or with a history of severe illnesses, broken bones, or everything else they'd like.
I wonder if they'll ask me to take off the bandage at the health-check we're having next week or next two weeks?
Probably not, I'd tell them I'm pretty sensitive there and hope for no problems.
Unless I'd fall on a smart-ass that decides that I have bandaged it all-wrong.
Probably not.

Oh, today I went to New-Pharm after school, looking for painkillers or sleeping aiders or blood-thinners, couldn't find any.
I bought instead something really cool and pretty cheap, alcohol prep pad, pretty good price, hundred units for twenty six nis.
I also got cheaper and bigger tape, cloth tape, of Nexcare. Nine meters for 30 NIS is quite good, and I'd probably cut it in a half anyway, creating eighteen meters.

My family isn't home, I'm probably going to get a shower and cleanse everything, or maybe not.

I took a shower, I repainted the places, I mostly do it to know exactly what I'm doing
Gladly, even at school they didn't learn exactly what the fuck is everything, we learned more about the skin cell [mostly epidermis] than the dermis and arteries and tendons and all of the shit that I study now, for self-aid.
I actually do plenty of things for aiding myself.
I'm selfish by doing it, but it helps me and others at need.

Fuck my feet are cold, but I'm too lazy to stretch my arm to open the sock drawer.

Okay, that radical-lefty over here "269" has that idea that many has.
Two countries for two nations.
Don't you understand how small Israel is?
Don't you understand that it won't lead to peace?
Peace won't happen when both sides are still angry, when the Palestinian is still willing to get the second country [it's what they want to do, so why would they ever stop?]
We can't just part people like this!
I'm just glad I live in such place where crazy pills are already in our water sources.

I'm alone again, for about an hour.
I would like to cut now, but I'm afraid that I'd fail myself ["You're such a failure... You can't even cut yourself, an impostor, poseur, failure, it was better if you were dead."] and I'll just be covered in blood and still disappointed... You know, as usual.


Okay, since I'm alone, I cleaned a patch on my wrist, using make-up remover, now I've cleaned with my alcohol pads.
It reminded me of the awful injections when I was younger.
I didn't agree to do them unless my father was with me, holding me tight.
I'm quite afraid to cut now, simply because of that it reminds me of the tetanus shot that's expiring soon, and I'm getting a new one this year,

I got about forty minutes.
Wow, I'm being weird now.
I want to cut, because I finally can, because nothing matters! Finally nothing matters.
But at the same time I'm happy, too happy.
Fuck, why did I do it? Why did I said out-loud that I'm happy?! Now that I said it, I start to worry, "You're happy now, but it's just now, the downfall later is going to crush you!" I really hate it.
I just can't be simply happy unless I'm faking it, which is usually by adrenaline.
I fucking hate it.
I also get really anxious lately.
If I do something, even the smallest, I start to get hot and blush and I just over-think and I have to remove a layer because it's that bad, I'm nothing but this panic that attacks me without warning.
It happened me today at first in Arabic, I struggled reading a sentence, instantly I got all overheated, like an over-worked laptop.

I feel crazy.
I just assume I'm going to just force myself to carry on.
I really hope that when I'd cut my wrist, one time somebody would put me in a place that's good for me.
I can't even ask for help, if I'd tell Keren she'll be forced by the law to tell my parents, and then, once again, I'm blocked.
I want to go and end myself.
I have no other solution, now do I?
The over privileged tween is  suicidal, oh, how pathetic!
I can't stand myself.

I don't know if I should tell Keren... I mean, what's the worst thing that can happen? Let's think....
A meteor, hurting everyone but me, making me suffer from all kinds of things, a strong thing named "survivors guilt".
I would like to ditch.
I don't want to go to school tomorrow, I want to relax, and not feel anxiety or these awful "You're such a fraud, I hate you, I wish you were dead already, stop quickening your breath and pretending! It's nothing but a show you put up!  whoa! Adrenaline!"

My feet are numb, and the only reason that my hands aren't is because I type.
My feet aren't numb now, they are dancing on the verge of pain and numbness.
This pain isn't even logical, oh! Wow! It's now hot!
My left foot suddenly was filled with warmness, I guess it's blood.

I feel like I'm going insane.
Nothing matters and I'm not sure if I feel good about it.

I'm all anxiety and adrenaline.
That's what I am.


Oh, wait.
I'm anxiety, adrenaline, and everything is still psychosomatic, now I got it right.


I feel hollow.
Oh well, I'm probably going to find relief soon, and enjoy a bleeding beauty.


My, oh my, this night is going to be delightful!
The razor near me, I sterilised it and sterilised my area I want to cut, all I need is courage.
I'm having that heat-flashes and I'm a bit shaky.
I don't know if I can do it.
To cut my wrist again.
To cut there.
The sweet spot.
Seems so wrong, feels so wrong, but why do I want it.
I know I can, but I'm afraid.
What if I'd die? [so unlikely but who knows?]
What if I'd get into shock?
What if I won't wake up properly in the morning and my mother would notice?
What if everything would go wrong?

I shall not chicken!
This is my time!
GO, NOW.
I'm going first on thighs.

OH MY FUCKING GOD.
WHAT AM I DOING?

I don't have the courage.
I feel like I need to die.


Fuck, it's fucking exhausting.


I lightly brushed the razor on my wrist, just to be ready.
I did again on the back of my hand, slightly angeled, not as brushy, it drew blood.
I have now a small adhesive banage on it.
Should I do it?
More importantly?
Could I do it?
Ten minutes.
Let's go!
Let's do it!

I didn't do it yet.
But I want to laugh.
I guess it's the anxiety!

Another one on the back of my hand, slightly deeper, bleeds a lot more, licked off, tastes like nothing, bandaged.

I feel crazy.
I got four minutes!
Three.
I feel nauseous.
I feel more strong than before, like I can do it, but I stop, I don't want it to spurt and be weird.
Oh fuck, I can't do it deep enough anyway.
Two minutes.
Corn blades!
I've cut small and barely deep.
Should I do it again?


Okay, my mum came in, I hid the wrist.
After it I cut three more times, same depth, I put a gauze or two, and now I got an elastic over it.


Good night.

I'm going to go on.
I won't fight against myself, I'm going to skip and hop hand in hand with my criticising self towards the sunset.