Psychorazorbass's Xanga

Monday, April 13, 2009

Mon, 13 Apr 2009 10:04:30 GMT

My secret photobucket was banned.
Damn.
All of my pictures, all of the depressing and disturbing things I loved, all gone.

It told me I'd violated the terms of service. I didn't know it was against their terms to show blood. Prejudice, I swear.
The only categories it may fall under, in any sense, are "excessive violence" and "promoting harm to any group or individual," in respects to myself.

I'm disappointed. Really. I'll never... never remember how deep they were, how bad it used to be. Scars don't do the same, you notice? They shrink to about a third of the size and eventually fade to white. I'll forget what it was like, and I'll do it again.
I haven't cut in almost a year. Eight or nine months. How am I supposed to avoid it now?
(If I didn't have work, I would. That's the sad part. Relationships and jobs are all that keep me from opening a vein.)

OH. Oh. I nearly forgot.
My friend Dakota has sort of been harassing me for always wearing my hoodie. I think he suspects. He has this tendency to bring up self-harm, and how he finds it odd and disturbing and frightening. I spent a few hours hanging out with him tonight, while he was working; us two and two others. He made a point of putting me on the spot for the hoodie. Talking about how he wants to throw a themed party and it's going to be something that requires me to go without it. Then asking to borrow it. Making me feel like an ass because I wouldn't loan him my hoodie while he went back to stock the freezer.
I don't want to avoid the damn boy. But I think I have to. Either that, or tell him what he probably already expects.
But then, everyone wants to know wtf you were thinking. And I can't tell him. You just... you don't tell people you really know that you hate yourself. That you want to die. That you can't stand being so ugly, so worthless, so painfully stupid. You can't tell people you're a mistake and a future suicide.
It doesn't go over so well, you know?

I hate obsessive compulsives.

Sun, 12 Apr 2009 03:09:26 GMT

No, really.

I have OCD myself. It isn't bad and hasn't been for years, not since I was about 10 years old.
But I sort of... Absorb... the compulsions I catch others doing.
I don't want to. I hate it. I hate how it looks and feels and that I need to do it. But I can't stop myself.

I have this friend Kaleb, who swears it's just nervous tics (I think it's Tourette's). He does this thing with his neck, I can't describe it. Tensing it and releasing. It looks odd as fuck.
And I can't stop doing it. Or it feels like the pressure in my spine will dissolve all of the little bonds that hold the bits of bone together.

If I start doing this shit in public, I think I'll kill the boy. Maybe once I'm not around his compulsions anymore I won't have to deal with them either.

Friday, April 10, 2009

Fri, 10 Apr 2009 00:20:21 GMT

I've gotten really good at convincing myself I don't have performance anxiety.
Unfortunately, I'm most definitely lying to myself.

I think I'm going to vomit. 'Cept there's nothing to vomit but water. And allergy pills. Buh.

I've been fucking around on the internet for hours now. I have way too much shit to do; bad choice on my part. Presentations and papers and tests and whatnot. Never go for a bio major, kids. You will not have a life.

Some girl in my dorms got arrested last week. For cutting. Her roommate walked in and saw her, reported her to campus safety. They locked her up for taking a fucking slice at herself.
I hate the world.
I guess they couldn't really do that to me, though. Last time I cut was August :].
(It'll be back eventually.)

Tuesday, April 07, 2009

Tue, 07 Apr 2009 04:21:57 GMT

I've been almost giddy today. Better than I was all last month, and the month before that...
I'm overcompensating. I can feel it. I go home, and I crash. I'm constantly on the verge of tears. My entire musical library is depressing in some sense, but nothing seems to sink low enough to fit my mood.
I'm not suicidal, but I'm wishing death would take me. What a selfish, lazy way to be.
Not like I'd get anywhere by attempting anything, either, but still.
I get so overwhelmed with depressing shit I would never push onto anyone I know, that I end up writing messages to myself. Back and forth, to myself, saying how pathetic I am.
That almost qualifies as insane.

I shouldn't want him to know I miss him, even if he does drop subtle hints. Listening to "Almost Easy"?!
Shame pulses through my heart from the things I've done to you
It's hard to face but the fact remains that this is nothing new
I left you bound and tied with suicidal memories

Come back to me it's almost easy

Now that I've lost you it kills me to say
I've tried to hold on as you've slowly slipped away
I'm losing the fight, I've treated you so wrong now let me make it right

Why would you taunt me with that?
I miss you too much.
You told me exactly what I could already see. That you wanted to love me, tried to love me, but that you couldn't. The plotline to every relationship I have.
I know I'm unlovable.
Please don't pull this now.
It cuts too deep.

I've dropped five lbs in two days

Sun, 05 Apr 2009 16:26:15 GMT

All from crying.
Whoever thought I had that many tears in me? I'm not much the crying sort.
I didn't even know my eyes could do that swollen ugly thing.

I'm relatively calm about it all, though. Tears notwithstanding. I was expecting it. I'd been expecting it since it started. I don't fault him.
I lost my home. That doesn't feel so great. But I'll live.
Unfortunately.

I spend a lot of time laughing, you know. Smiling, too. I have an ugly smile. But it happens a lot.
I can't think of a single damn thing that makes me happy, but I always seem to be such.
I can't think of anything that interests me anymore. It's all built of casual glances and polite disposition.
What's the point in living when you don't offer anything and the world doesn't offer anything to you?

I'm not suicidal right now. Really. I'm just having a bit of trouble seeing the point.

Btw, I think I took too many pain killers. I'm having a bit of trouble breathing and walking. (Of the high sort, not the ohemgee overdose sort)
Oh, and I might have cancer. Yep. Not the cool kind that makes you drop crazy weight and die, though. The shitty kind that costs you a ton of money even though it's usually not all that deadly and makes you GAIN weight because your thyroid stops functioning.
Life is wonderful.

Sunday, February 22, 2009

Sun, 22 Feb 2009 22:20:52 GMT

I wish you didn't have to be drunk to want me.
I won't ever bring it up to you.
I just want to sleep for forever.

Saturday, February 14, 2009

Sat, 14 Feb 2009 23:38:24 GMT

My last few hours of being a teenager, and I still feel as ugly, pathetic, and worthless as I did at 13.
All that's changed, is that I've realized I'm a lot stupider than I used to think I was.

I don't have as many suicidal attacks as I used to, it isn't every day anymore. But it seems so much worse now, when they do hit. I have no hope anymore.

Wednesday, December 31, 2008

Wed, 31 Dec 2008 13:12:05 GMT

You still invade my mind on much too regular a basis.
I love my boy. I don't want to be torn up over you, still.
I rejected you. I knew it wouldn't work. I would rather have killed myself than meet you face to face, because I know you would have discarded me the moment you realized how falsely you perceived me.

I can't believe you thought I was lying that I love you. I shouldn't have said it, I shouldn't have replied the way I did. It would have been so much easier for you had I said nothing. Had you continued to think I saw you as nothing more than a friend, a silly internet one at that.
I wish I had known beforehand that lying would be less painful for you, for both of us, than the truth.
I have an issue with speaking the truth too often.

It feels wrong to still obsess over you the way I do.
It feels like cheating.
Because it is.
Emotional cheating.
The worst sort.

Monday, December 01, 2008

Mon, 01 Dec 2008 22:42:13 GMT

I'm a bad enough person,
that I stole a needle (unused of course) from a diabetic friend.
I'm not planning on using it anytime soon. I don't know if it's even large enough to cause an embolism, like I hoped.
Maybe I'll inject drain cleaner. That sounds dangerous.
(Filling a few capsules with draino and swallowing them so the draino doesn't take affect until it's in my stomach, that would be much more certain. I would be more likely to do that one.)

Keke. I keep thinking of The Happening, how it was so easy for those people.
I know it was a shitty movie, but really... Death by hair pick? Dozens of nice tall buildings? A conveniently placed ladder to get you into those enormous trees to hang yourself?
How fucking false.

I've had three panic attacks today. I don't know what set them off.
I want a xanax but can't afford to fall asleep.
Boo.

Monday, November 24, 2008

Mon, 24 Nov 2008 10:00:36 GMT

I suppose I got it sorted out.
I spoke to him. Nice long message. While drunk. Because I would have panicked otherwise. But it turned out better than it would have sober, I didn't overthink it.
He understands, but he's depressed. Which kicks the guilt into overtime. But it's okay, that's how I should feel :].
I wish he could accept that I do love him, just that I can't do long distance relationships.
I wish he could understand that I'm not as pretty as he makes me out to be and probably not the same sort of person, either. I wish he could fall in love with someone who's good for him.
I wish I wasn't a worthless spazz in the relationship sense.

I love Kyle too, though. I can't stand thinking of his reaction when I told him I was dating Daniel. I can't stand how suicidal either of them are.
I hate that I have to hurt someone.
I suppose I'm just hurting the person who's further away instead of by my side.
I wonder how different it would be if both of them were here.

I'm with Kyle again and really happy about it. Things seem so different this time around. We're both less depressed than we were this time last year.
I always used to think it was impossible to love two people at once. I thought it meant you didn't love either of them.
I was such a silly child.
I had more to say but it was turning out rather poorly, so it doesn't matter, I suppose.
I'm on opiates and I love them.
I don't abuse meds, really. This is maybe the fifth or sixth time all year I've taken opiates when I didn't need them. That's not so bad :].