Happy Mother’s Day to me.
There is no worse pain than the one I’ve had for the past week. I haven’t slept and I’ve been blasting the same two songs over and over and over again. I haven’t cried nor have I cut and I feel that makes it so much worse. It won’t come out and I don’t know what to do. I’m stuck in this infinite pain that feels like somebody took a sword and shoved it down my throat, through my heart and into my stomach. I don’t know. I guess that’s the best way to describe what it physically feels like. Mentally and emotionally, there are no words to describe how it feels. It just sucks.
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….