Is it really that bad if my "evil" and "depressing" thoughts make me smile?
So fucking what if I'm suicidal?! Aren't all teens are?!
Have you all absoultely lost your minds?
So it makes me feel better, feel more whole and not as hollow I usually feel, and I may even smile when I think about it.
How something so good can be frowned upon?!
My jaw hurts.
Do you think that I punch myself when I sleep? Unlikely, I probably just smash my jaw on the wooden plank or off bed.
It's not that weird.
When I'm still under the sleep's haze, I can barely remember anything.
I woke up at four today.
I panicked at first, "Oh no! Not another school day! Please! No!" And I just wanted to cry.
But then logic hopped in an reminded me that it's Saturday.
I got the Sims, it got everything but Into the Future and Island Paradise.
So yes, I don't have Oasis Landing or the time traveler, and I don't have Isla Paradisa or mermaids or resorts.
But I guess that it's alright, I really want to try make a good whole game.
I'd start with making a sim able to join to the University with a full scholarship, preferably with arts, because I dig that type.
Obviously, I'll enjoy having my son to be in a relationship.
Maybe a gay relationship? It's too bad we can't synthesise babies, so adoption will be the only solution.
Maybe one of them will be a supernatural?
Werewolves won't be because it's annoying, vampires is repetitive, fairies are such a bore, but witches! I like witches!
Maybe a ghost can be nice.
A baby ghost!
And the baby ghost will be the son of the gay couple, and the elder will be the babysitter!
The elder will be an author, and maybe the grandparent of the toddler.
Should we make the elder a supernatural as well? Vampire or fairy?
Vampire can be good for when the toddler will age into the first adulthood, but fairy is perfect for people who stay in the house a lot.
I'm hungry.
It's three thirty four pm now.
I have figured out today why I long for self harm.
I constantly romanticise and glorified it!
Like it would be better.
Like it is the right thing to do.
But... It did make me feel better, it kept me busy, I felt punished, I enjoyed the pain I'm getting, and I managed to do things so much better, I fought, I won, I had energy, I was... Happy.
Or was I almost happy? Or I wasn't happy at all?
But, my memories have changed, did it seem so sweet when I did it? Yes? Or did it felt right? Or was it just returning to a safe and known place?
I can't fucking believe that I did what I hate the most.
I fucking ROMANTICISED and GLORIFIED it.
As much as I hate it, I still want it.
Something that I turned into beautiful, lovely, desirable, is what others will perceive as corrupted and they won't understand why I find it so good.
I don't think I want to change it.
If I won't have anything to hold on to, even not the thought of it, I'd be lost.
I'm holding onto the thought that if nothing will help, I can go back to hurting myself at eighteen and maybe attempt suicide.
But, when I won't have the "second option" or "plan B" and everything will depend on one thing that will determine my future.
The success of the treatment will change every single thing.
But I'm a vile sack of flesh and bones, why shall I live?
If I treat it, I'll do a great disservice to my surroundings.
Won't it just be better if I'd be gone?
One grey cloud will stop causing pain to the rest.
And here I feel my tears.
I don't know exactly what makes me cry, but I feel better about myself if I lie to myself and say that I cry because I can't ease their pain.
But the truth is obvious, I clearly cry because I'm a selfish little crying bitch.
I cry because I hold onto life.
How disgusting of me!
That's it, fuck everything, I'm going to kill myself.
It will be so much better after I'm gone.
And I won't be here to enjoy it.
I'll be gone.
Like everyone else at the end.
Gone.
I have decided.
I will do it.
When? Soon.
I consider other options.
Taking a knife and stabbing my chest, I don't think that the difference between a punctured lung to a pierced heart.
Poison before bed.
Or the noose.
I don't feel very bad about it.
I better write the letters, right?
I guess that I'd do it.
It's not like I just came up with this idea, it stuck with me for a very long while.
I don't think things will ever be okay.
What if it's not temporary? What if it's the actual truth? What if I don't lack any chemicals? What if it is the answer for the grandiose question?
It's three thirty four pm now.
I have figured out today why I long for self harm.
I constantly romanticise and glorified it!
Like it would be better.
Like it is the right thing to do.
But... It did make me feel better, it kept me busy, I felt punished, I enjoyed the pain I'm getting, and I managed to do things so much better, I fought, I won, I had energy, I was... Happy.
Or was I almost happy? Or I wasn't happy at all?
But, my memories have changed, did it seem so sweet when I did it? Yes? Or did it felt right? Or was it just returning to a safe and known place?
I can't fucking believe that I did what I hate the most.
I fucking ROMANTICISED and GLORIFIED it.
As much as I hate it, I still want it.
Something that I turned into beautiful, lovely, desirable, is what others will perceive as corrupted and they won't understand why I find it so good.
I don't think I want to change it.
If I won't have anything to hold on to, even not the thought of it, I'd be lost.
I'm holding onto the thought that if nothing will help, I can go back to hurting myself at eighteen and maybe attempt suicide.
But, when I won't have the "second option" or "plan B" and everything will depend on one thing that will determine my future.
The success of the treatment will change every single thing.
But I'm a vile sack of flesh and bones, why shall I live?
If I treat it, I'll do a great disservice to my surroundings.
Won't it just be better if I'd be gone?
One grey cloud will stop causing pain to the rest.
And here I feel my tears.
I don't know exactly what makes me cry, but I feel better about myself if I lie to myself and say that I cry because I can't ease their pain.
But the truth is obvious, I clearly cry because I'm a selfish little crying bitch.
I cry because I hold onto life.
How disgusting of me!
That's it, fuck everything, I'm going to kill myself.
It will be so much better after I'm gone.
And I won't be here to enjoy it.
I'll be gone.
Like everyone else at the end.
Gone.
I have decided.
I will do it.
When? Soon.
I consider other options.
Taking a knife and stabbing my chest, I don't think that the difference between a punctured lung to a pierced heart.
Poison before bed.
Or the noose.
I don't feel very bad about it.
I better write the letters, right?
I guess that I'd do it.
It's not like I just came up with this idea, it stuck with me for a very long while.
I don't think things will ever be okay.
What if it's not temporary? What if it's the actual truth? What if I don't lack any chemicals? What if it is the answer for the grandiose question?
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