georgiamay
October 31st, 2010, 06:02 PM
I can't do anything right.
Here's an example:
"oh look, my kitchen looks a mess."
*Does it now.*
"Oh."
"Maybe you should come and clean up my kitchen."
*Fucking should I?*
"Ok."
"No Georgia, that doesn't go in there, it goes in it's own place in the drawer above it."
*I don't give a shit.*
"Ok, sorry."
"mmhmm."
"There's no more room in the dishwasher."
"Are you sure? Oh look, you've done it all wrong.. There, now it'll fit."
"I'm going to bed, night Nic."
"Why do you call me Nic now? You never used to."
*does it fucking matter?*
"I don't know."
"Why not call me mum?"
*Because I have a mum, and it isn't fucking you!*
"Nahh, I like Nic."
"Ok, night George."
"Night."
This is a pretty poor example, but itll have to do, cause my mind is dead right now.
I wish my mum had aborted me. Dying is different to not being born.
Dying is a waste, being aborted is never existing. So much more peaceful.
Maybe if I wasn't born Mum and Dad would still be married, and live happily together.
But when I came along I thrust post natal depression ion my mum and that more than fucked things up for them.
According to my dad, my mum was controlling and aggressive, and the marriage probably wouldn't have lasted anyway.
But I'm not sure about that.
I don't know what happened between them before her bipolar and post natal combination ripped them apart so violently it nearly killed my mum.
I need to cut now more than ever.
I lifted up my top a little bit earlier and saw a huge blue vein under my skin.
I can't even begin to explain how much I wanted to slice it open.
It seems like my own veins hate me and want me to hurt myself, considering how they're staring at me, abd screaming at me to cut them.
And I really want to.
But I can't, and I hate knowing that I can't cut.
It eats away at me more than the urges do.
I hate every second of this. I want it all to be over.
The other day I was on the phone to my dad asking him a very simple question about the TV, and it turned into another episode of him telling me about my pathetic empty promises.
Then he hung up on me.
He was right though. The self hatred seemed to overflow after that, and I ended up shouting at myself outload:
You're so pathetic.
Why can't you be more like your cousins like your dad always says?
Just grow up.
Why do you have to fuck everything up all the time?
I am everything I hate. I hate myself so much.
I can see the blue vein under my scars and all i can think about is opening them up again, and seeing the blood pour.
He was right though. All I do is make empty promises of change. I tell him so many times that I'll change, I'll be a better daughter, I'll be what he wants me to be.
But I never deliver.
I try but I just can't.
I wish I was never brought into this world. That way I cold never ruin so many people's lives. I hate what I've done to my family.
I just needed to let this out, sorry.
Here's an example:
"oh look, my kitchen looks a mess."
*Does it now.*
"Oh."
"Maybe you should come and clean up my kitchen."
*Fucking should I?*
"Ok."
"No Georgia, that doesn't go in there, it goes in it's own place in the drawer above it."
*I don't give a shit.*
"Ok, sorry."
"mmhmm."
"There's no more room in the dishwasher."
"Are you sure? Oh look, you've done it all wrong.. There, now it'll fit."
"I'm going to bed, night Nic."
"Why do you call me Nic now? You never used to."
*does it fucking matter?*
"I don't know."
"Why not call me mum?"
*Because I have a mum, and it isn't fucking you!*
"Nahh, I like Nic."
"Ok, night George."
"Night."
This is a pretty poor example, but itll have to do, cause my mind is dead right now.
I wish my mum had aborted me. Dying is different to not being born.
Dying is a waste, being aborted is never existing. So much more peaceful.
Maybe if I wasn't born Mum and Dad would still be married, and live happily together.
But when I came along I thrust post natal depression ion my mum and that more than fucked things up for them.
According to my dad, my mum was controlling and aggressive, and the marriage probably wouldn't have lasted anyway.
But I'm not sure about that.
I don't know what happened between them before her bipolar and post natal combination ripped them apart so violently it nearly killed my mum.
I need to cut now more than ever.
I lifted up my top a little bit earlier and saw a huge blue vein under my skin.
I can't even begin to explain how much I wanted to slice it open.
It seems like my own veins hate me and want me to hurt myself, considering how they're staring at me, abd screaming at me to cut them.
And I really want to.
But I can't, and I hate knowing that I can't cut.
It eats away at me more than the urges do.
I hate every second of this. I want it all to be over.
The other day I was on the phone to my dad asking him a very simple question about the TV, and it turned into another episode of him telling me about my pathetic empty promises.
Then he hung up on me.
He was right though. The self hatred seemed to overflow after that, and I ended up shouting at myself outload:
You're so pathetic.
Why can't you be more like your cousins like your dad always says?
Just grow up.
Why do you have to fuck everything up all the time?
I am everything I hate. I hate myself so much.
I can see the blue vein under my scars and all i can think about is opening them up again, and seeing the blood pour.
He was right though. All I do is make empty promises of change. I tell him so many times that I'll change, I'll be a better daughter, I'll be what he wants me to be.
But I never deliver.
I try but I just can't.
I wish I was never brought into this world. That way I cold never ruin so many people's lives. I hate what I've done to my family.
I just needed to let this out, sorry.