I’m Back.

I deleted my tumblr. I got one because I thought it would make me feel closer to everyone, I could see what’s going on with them and they could see what’s going on with me. Nope. Mostly just me trying to be open about everything and getting ignored (surprise surprise). Again, like all attempts to be social, no one talks to me. What the fuck is the point of having a goddamned blog, guys.

I have been depressed, I have torn myself to fucking shreds, I have tried talking about it, I have tried just dealing with it on my own while everyone else does their own thing, I have tried to live a normal life and it’s not working. I want to kill myself and no one fucking cares. And you know what? Neither do I. Fuck if I care, have fun with your fucking lives, I don’t care. I love you more than anything in the world, but if you don’t care, I don’t care. 

Maybe people actually read my blog, maybe they didn’t. Maybe they actually read this one and I just never knew. Let’s see how long it’ll take them to figure out it’s been deleted. Probably won’t even notice.

I thought having a blog like everyone else’s would help me feel included and help with the depression, but no. All it does is make me realize they’re all ignoring me. They don’t answer my text when clearly they’re available, they don’t answer anything I do, and then they talk about how they went out and had fun while I sat on my floor and cried and dug a little deeper with an exacto. Fucking awesome, guys. 6 people followed my blog and they were my friends, but I’m starting to think that I don’t have any at all.

I’m gonna go cry under a blanket and hide all my blades


counting stars

baby, i’ve been losing sleep dreaming bout all the things that we could be

baby, i’ve been praying hard, no more counting dollars- we’ll be counting stars

ive been so empty lately. I feel awful about writing, I never have the words like I used to, so I just use the ones others use. I dont do anything but work which is good for the money- I love the money. Its just bad for everything else.

My options are: a) feel every emotion humanly possible all at the same time and not be able to process or function with them, or b) feel completely hollow, heartless, dead. Why.

everything that kills me makes me feel alive

june 6th 2013

i fell kind of empty today. its only 10 am.

i kind of lied to my boss and cried while doing it yesterday, so now i think she’ll be tip-toeing around me a little bit. oh well.

i bought chocolate milk and 4 cream cheese filled red velvet cupcakes last night because im trying to treat myself without going overboard. i have done well, but i want a cupcake for breakfast. goin for it.

i wanna go back to school already.

sunburn on top of scars…ow. OW.

someone play with my hair and watch movies with me and cuddle.


my dog one one of the biggest- if not the biggest reason that i never killed myself. i guess its kind of weird to have a relationship like that with something that cant even talk, but i just didnt want to leave him. i didnt care about anyone else, not even myself to the point that i was ready and willing to just die, but  i couldnt leave him. he was still just a puppy and since i had raised and trained him, he was attached to me and if i left then he would be even more anxious than he already was (which im sure was my fault to begin with).  i didnt want him to walk in, see me, or find me after it happened- that wouldve been awful. he was just a puppy, hed never done anything to anyone and he didnt deserve to just be abandoned and left with other emotionally unstable people. maybe my mom wouldve given him up for adoption, who knows who hed whind up with. i didnt trust anyone else to take care of him and his anxiety problems. he was the only thing i didnt want to leave behind.

so thats kind of why i love my dog so much and i had started this as a draft a few weeks ago. i wish i hadnt waited til he got so sick to finish it.

getting my shit together

a tiny portion of my to-do for this summer/ beginning of the school year

  • call the cops if needed
  • save up enough money to schedule a psych eval, get meds/treatment, apply at the ODA
  • try to get more financial aid, sell art, maybe do that crazy car wrap thing
  • try to get my gpa up to a 3.5 at Least
  • look for jobs at school, preferably library

there are many more on the list, but these are probably the most important…hopefully i can do this.

Thank You

for always being there for me. You are such a good friend and I don’t think I’ve ever really expressed that. I should do it every day. You were there for me when I was dying but I never even knew  that you were broken too. You’re so generous you’d probably say not to worry about it, it’s no big deal, that I don’t owe you anything and that’s what friends are for…and you have never once asked for anything in return…I never even saw the pain in your eyes while you were helping me,  never even noticed. You’ve been through so much that can never be undone, and you’ve turned out to be such a wonderful person. Thank you so much for being there for me, and being the best friend in the world. I’m so grateful to have met you.