J
Jordache
Guest
I want to die everyday. My arrogant sin is that I truly believe that even though God created me if He really knew me He would be done. I feel like a Jezebel. I feel like a danger to men. Why? Nothing really logical. I don't dress particularly immodestly. I'm not a professional flirt. I don't do anything particularly seductive. I just feel like my existence makes me dangerous to men. I have men in my life who would tell me if I was doing something like that. I ask them about my clothes or how I act, and they say I'm not dangerous. So it's really not logical. I guess I just feel like I make people do bad things. To put it bluntly, I existed and therefore, I made my dad rape me. Do I know it's not true? Of course! But in my core, this is what I believe. For this and other reasons, I don't want to live. I cut myself up last Thursday. I pierced myself 100's of times with lancets. And the more I bled, the better I felt. That is what I look like: hideous and scarred. I promised my counselor not to do it for several days and I didn't keep my promise. Instead, on Saturday I taped all my lancets and penlets together and handed them over to my friend. Problem solved, right? Wrong! It didn't change how I feel. It just made me more desperate and frustrated. I could think of 10,000 more ways to hurt myself, and of course I'm falling right back in with purging and weight obsession. Is this good enough? Is that good enough? How small can I get?
I try to get help. I need to sleep, and I can't. If I do, it's fitful. Last night was a "good" night for me. I laid down at midnight. I tossed and turned for two hours. I finally went to the couch. I started panicking but somehow calmed down and fell asleep. I woke up at 3 for 15 minutes wondering what was in the room with me. I woke up at 4:30 ready to jump out of my skin. I was up for about a half hour (which is amazing). I woke up at 6 wide eyed. I laid in bed until 7 and I got up. So in all I got 3 hours of sleep. Then today in my anxious panic I'm ready to go running.
I try to get help. I need to sleep, and I can't. If I do, it's fitful. Last night was a "good" night for me. I laid down at midnight. I tossed and turned for two hours. I finally went to the couch. I started panicking but somehow calmed down and fell asleep. I woke up at 3 for 15 minutes wondering what was in the room with me. I woke up at 4:30 ready to jump out of my skin. I was up for about a half hour (which is amazing). I woke up at 6 wide eyed. I laid in bed until 7 and I got up. So in all I got 3 hours of sleep. Then today in my anxious panic I'm ready to go running.