I decided I want a life where I'm my own boss or some shit? I can't remember, I've just been making crap with the hopes of selling it.
Anyway, I think it was all just a mini manic phase because yesterday, for seemingly no reason at all, I fell into a huuuuge fucking pit of despair.
I feel so fucking numb it's annoying.
I hate BB. I hate that I met him so that my mind can think about him; and I hate how he can manipulate me without even being fucking present. I hate the feeling of happiness because it's always followed with disappointment, embarrassment, loneliness, resentment, and all the negative emotions that I really don't need to list.
The one thing he was good at though was grounding me.
When I was with him, I never binged and rarely did I ever slip up and self-harm.
When I was with him I made sure I was human, I made sure I looked after myself, I made sure to go outside of my comfort zone.
All of that is shit without him.
I'm angry because I'm fucking fat. Because my mother is a goddamn fucking Italian wind-sign who has no structure.
I feel so... out of control.
Which is weird and petty of me to say because I have a really easy life, and I'm really lucky to have such a caring and understanding mother, but FUCK.
BB is an earth sign and he's grounded as fuck. Instead of snacking all day like my mother, he would have actual MEALS. So that meant there was no snack food. OR, if there was, he would make it last and he would make sure I didn't fucking devour it all.
He was always there, and would sit me down and have these talks with me when I was getting too sad, or if I was getting worked up and angry he would just hold me until I calmed down.
Here, I'm on my fucking own. I have no one I can talk to without feeling like I'm an annoying self-centred brat who only cares about themselves. I feel stupid saying the same things over and over, knowing full well what I need to do to fix my problems, but also at the same time, knowing I don't have the ability/strength to fix them.
BB is a jerk and I fucking hate him, but at least I wasn't fat, and at least I had a reason not to cut when I was with him.
Yes, cut. Last night I found out that the reason I was only able to make stupid tiny kitty-cat scratches was because I was using an incredibly dull blade. I found this out when I found a new blade and tried it the fuck out. It makes me feel a little better... which I know is stupid; but when one self-harms and ends up with tiny "nothings", one feels pathetic and weak.
But nowwwwwww, I'm back in business. Which is bad, because I'm numb, and when you're numb and don't care about anything, it makes it hard to stop.
I just kept going and going (cutting really puts you in a trance), but then I'd pull out of it and get scared of myself because all I could smell was blood after awhile, and I have to be careful not to get too crazy. I can't just hack away anywhere; I need to be careful with placement.
I still haven't cut too, too deep though; just deep enough now where the blood takes awhile to fill up the opening, you know?
A stupid thing I did though was make 10 tiny cuts on my wrist; like, on the sides of it.
I don't really know why, I think I did it because I was trigger happy in a sense, I just wanted to go ham. I really did.
BUT, it was dumb because now I have to hide them.
Another reason as to why I'm unhappy living with my mother is because I've gotta stay alive.
I would never want my mom to be the one to find me dead. I wouldn't want to be "under her care" (so to speak) at the time of me killing myself. It's quite annoying really.
At least with BB it was obviously his fault for pushing me over the edge. That doesn't sound nice but I mean it's true in a sense. Last May was because I found out that everything was a lie and that I was exactly all the bad things I always thought I was, and that BB was only using me, and that I'm an unlovable piece of shit. So why stay present when you find out that the person you love more than ANYTHING in this whole entire fucking WORLD, is cheating on you and doesn't give a fuck? Well, if you're me, the answer is, "suicide".
Like, there's an actual "reason" for it. As opposed to me being here, seemingly not having a care in the fucking world, you know? Why the fuck would I want to kill myself while living here? Other than the classic, stereo-typical answers from outside by-standers such as: selfish, self-centred, attention-seeking, idiot.
There's no reason. So if I were to die, it'd need to be an accident that I openly took, or I'd have to not be living under this roof.
It's stupid, I'm stupid, I know.
ANYWAY, long story short:
I'm fat, I'm self-harming, I'm numb, I'm sad, I'm past the manic phase, I'm lonely, I'm dreaming of suicide, I hate BB, and I hate myself.
xxx
💕 kisses! 💕
✌🏻✌🏻
- Mint.
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