Things are bad. They could have been good. I was really trying to be better. But it's all relative, isn't it? Better than what? The last five years? The last three? The past 7 months? Stupidly I thought I could handle this...living here. But I knew. I don't think I'll survive it this time. I don't know if it matters if I do.
I'm always wrong. The things I do, the way I feel, the thoughts I think. I'm told to stop. Always stop. It's not normal, it's not their way. But no matter what I do, the right way is always opposite. Tell me to speak up, say what I feel...but then tell me what I feel is wrong, stop that, you can't dwell on it. But I do. I am made this way...I hurt, I worry. But I can't stop just because it's bad or not how I'm supposed to be. Who am I? I don't have an identity. I am what you made me. But it's still my fault. I can't win. I should feel no pain. But that's all this brings. I'm not right. It's killing me slowly, just like before. My fault. Always my fault. I have to save me. But what's worth saving? I'm so tired.
Xanax is clouding my mind. I needed it. One and a half. Sleeping pills leftover in my system. Maybe I can sleep the day away. To get to tomorrow. I could have done it. Been pretty & flirty and made him want me again. I wanted more time with him. I just wanted to go & have fun & laugh & dance. I was ready. But I don't have the strength. And my car needs fixed -- not my fault. But I'm not allowed to feel upset about it. Worried that I'll be trapped here.
"If you fail, at least you tried." I always try. But sometimes you have to let go, give up. Because there's nothing left to try for. I'm a failure in other ways. I can't win.
I want to see him again...I pray that we're still on good terms. But I might have to walk away. I'm scared that things will be bad. I'm not meant to have that kind of life. A living one. Happiness. I try to explain, but they can't hear me. I am who I am.
I need help. But I don't think anyone can save me. I'm meant to do it on my own. But sometimes I need someone there. But I can't. I'm sorry. I'm tired.
No one really knows me. Or they would understand. My cousin's daughter died. Hung herself a few days ago. She was only 11...bullied, probably so much more. I didn't know her, maybe saw her once or twice. But I can understand her. If I had the courage back then..
They don't understand. Maybe more people will listen now. Not brush it aside. They don't want to know...so children suffer. It's not serious enough. But it is, for us.
I pray for her soul to be at peace.
I pray for mine too.
I pray. Please save me. Keep them safe.
