I would love to tell you that I don’t see myself the way others do. But that would be a lie. I see exactly what they see. I know what they say about me when they think I’m not listening. I’m listening. I’m listening because I know it’s about me. I just want to turn around and flat out agree. I know it’s true and so do they. I want one of them to at least have the guts and say it to my face. I hear them talking about my scars and I hear them talk about what it could be from. There is only one thing they are from. And it’s me. I created them. I created this. I can’t tell them. I can’t face them. More importantly I can’t face myself. I can’t look at the scars I can’t look in my eyes without crying. My mother told me that when I was born she never thought I would turn into this much of a disappointment. I don’t want to burden her. But I don’t have a choice. Life is so hard. I just want to know what it is like to be able to wake up in the morning and not feel like this.
I feel like I am a bench warmer in this game of Life.
I am invisible
Irrecoverable
Irrelevant
I am alone

I am alone, and I am afraid. I’m surrounded by people and I’m alone.

My sister came home from collage today. She will be here for nine days. I think I found a trigger of mine. When she is around it’s like I’m wearing a jacket 18 sizes to small. Then I SI and it’s like unzipping the jacket and letting me breathe again. Then the guilt comes, and fear joins it.

I really think this is helping me. I have needed to tell someone my story and eventually it will all be out. A little at a time and I think I will make it through the year. I just really need hold on. I really have to. Day by day I can make it. Every day is an eternity. I just want to know I can be okay. I need hope. And I need help.