Tuesday, February 2, 2010

Time is Everything.

Tonight, for the first time, I cut my wrist. I didn't make deep marks, but they're visible. I see my handiwork, and I hate myself for it. I should know better than to try hurt myself given what just happened to my friend. I've gotten so tired of being the strong one. It's to hard. I shouldn't have to be so strong, no matter the situation. I just feel like giving up so many times throughout the day, and then when night comes, it gets even harder. During the day, I can be with my two best friends I still have, enjoy their company, and think about better things. When I'm alone, I can't stand thinking, because it only hurts me even more. The pain, I miss.
I'm starting another fast, until my friend gets out of hospital. Only liquid. I don't know how long he'll be in there, but I'll do whatever it takes. Maybe, the hunger will grow so intense, I won't feel anything anymore. I'm just so exhausted mentally, and the pain, mental pain, is just so excruciating. It's definitely taking it's toll on me, and I want it to go away.
I went for a walk tonight, and while I was out there at my spot, I laid down to look at the moon, and lost myself. It was amazing. When I came to, my mom was calling my cell phone wondering where I was. I told her. "Get home now." She sent me that in a text when I started walking back. What the fuck did she think I was doing, star gazing? I mean, I don't know. I understand she's stressed. She's reacting to what happened to my friend. When I got home, I tried telling her what happened. "I don't care. You don't care about me, and I'm sick of it. And I'm making you an appointment to talk to someone." I told her she was crazy if she thought I was going to see someone, but if she was already calling, to make herself an appointment. She needs it way more than I do. She just doesn't get it.
The other night was a perfect example of why she should get help. I took a bath, so I could shave my legs. She took one look at me walking towards the bath tub with a razor and freaked. "What are you doing with that?"
"Shaving my legs, what else?"
"No you're not."

Yeah, I was just going to shave my legs, but you know what she was thinking? I was going to cut my wrists and kill myself. If I'm angry at what my friend has done, it's the way he's made my mom react towards me. I would never consider killing myself. I'm being selfish right now, but I enjoy living. I don't understand his reasoning, but things must have been much worse than he led on. I, on the other hand, am perfectly stable and am completely sick of my mom tiptoeing around me as if anything she might say wrong could upset me. Sure, I've had several mental break downs, but it's only after I see something that reminds me of my friend, or something that just takes my breath away. I've become so much more in-tune with everything in my life, and sometimes I don’t think it's such a good thing.
Everything has me stressing now. I'm smoking almost a pack a day because of it all. It's my only release. Besides me hooking up with that guy the other night, I've had nothing to help. My friends are working through this themselves, but I still feel responsible for taking care of them. Being strong for them. And normally, under any other condition, I would be fine doing so. It's just that I was close to him too, and it's hard to work through my own feelings and thoughts added to theirs. M's mom doesn't understand her. She never has, so she doesn't have the mom I do, and it hurts her. She needs someone like a mom to help her through this since her own mother has my sympathy for her. J's doing okay, his mom knows, and understands, but they're not close, so I stick close to him to make sure things are okay. He's also got some other friends who can help, but M only has J and I, now that my boy's in the hospital.
I don't know how everything's going to work out. I know he'll be okay, but I need to hear something from his parents soon, or I'll continue to have break downs. I need to know he's okay. Even if he's not mentally sane, I need to know that he hasn't physically harmed himself in any way. I don't know what I'll do if he does or has. I need him around, and even though I've told him so on several occasions, I don't know if he ever took any of it seriously. I love the boy, and honestly, if he had gone through with it, I don't know what I'd be doing right now. Maybe sitting in the room next to him in the psyche ward. Who can tell? I'd say "God knows" but I don't know what I believe in anymore. It makes things more difficult as well, considering I used to rely on prayer a lot, but I can't pray to someone who would let something like this happen, especially to someone I love.

Anyways, I have too many problems at the moment to work out, but I'll eventually be okay. Like my favorite quote says, "Keep Moving Forward." I'm working on it, Walt.

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