Relapse. Awesome. Just. Fucking. Awesome.
I’m sick of feeling so fucking empty all the fucking time. Maybe my ex should’ve fucked a less important friend of mine instead of my best fucking friend. That would’ve been really fucking great. Maybe if my fucking ex didn’t fucking stab me in the heart with his fucking actions, I would fucking be okay. BUT NO my fucking ex had to be a lying, cheating, best friend fucker. Fuck that guy. Fuck her. Fuck my new guy that doesn’t want to fucking acknowledge the fact that I’m fucking dying inside and fuck the entire New York State. Fuck everything. I’d kill myself but I don’t want to give anybody that satisfaction over because of my actions. Fuck that,
It feels like yesterday but it happened so long ago. I was going to take a picture of the day and I was off by a year. An entire year. God, it feels like just yesterday. The emotional and physical pain of my unborn child exiting my body. The days pass and the memory doesn’t go away. Nor do the thoughts of what life would’ve been with her/him. I miss her/him so much. I wish I would’ve known, maybe then I would’ve taken proper precautions and taken care of it instead of not knowig for almost two months to be surprised by the worse fear a woman can have. God, I can’t even type it yet.
It’s been almost 2 years and I cannot get over the death of my unborn child. I failed you, my beautiful spawn baby. I may not have known you but I will always love you.
I could tell you I want to shoot myself.
That I want to die.
That I want to swallow a handful of pills.
That I wanna hang myself.
That I want to slit my wrists.
But as long as I say it with the right tone.
you’d think it was a joke.
when in truth I’m being completely serious.
I am literally so fucking upset all the time and I really don’t understand how I have cut myself yet….
I’m not as bad as I used to be. I’ve gotten over the fact that he slept with my best friend. They’re both out of my life and as I continue my journey of life, I realize that I don’t need anyone but myself.
As for my baby, we’re good. It feels different though. To be honest, I don’t know how to feel about it. I am happy and content but I feel like he’s forcing himself to stay with me. I don’t want that. I don’t know what to do.
Home hasn’t gotten any better. My mother s more on me lately and has been waking me up with a few good hits here and there. I don’t know what I’m doing wrong anymore. I feel like everything I do is being analyzed.
I can only hope things get better, keep my feet on the ground and keep my hands off the blade. I feel myself growing and, hey, I turn 18 in a few days :) I can do this. I believe in myself now.