• Diary of a Teenage girl...

    Sigh... I'm not sure what to do anymore. I'm not suffering from depression but I sometimes receive from people this urge to just hurt myself. Is that weird? I don't want to but every time something comes up, I feel like I have to punish myself because whatever happened was my fault. I don't want to feel self centered with saying that everything is my fault but that's how I feel.

    It happened. I raised the craft knife up to my left wrist and began a pattern of crisscross. I was frustrated. Why wasn't I bleeding?! My punishment will only be fulfilled when I see and smell the blood from my wrists.

    I think I am a coward. I get the urge to cut myself but I'm too much of a foolish coward to actually hurt myself. Do I value my body so much?

    Voices in my head ring out every second of my life. It says this to me, maybe it's myself that is telling myself this but am I being tempted my satan?

    ...you're worthless... of course no one would notice if you were dead... why bother coming back to a place where they don't care for you... you stupid girl... you should just die...

    The voice won't stop. It haunts me and at first I denied them. I knew I had my worth, no matter how small it may be, no matter what people said of me. But slowly I began to see 'clearly' at myself. I really was a 'nobody' here. Something that just had to be taken but can be thrown away if only a little more effort was made. I was just an extra package. It wouldn't have mattered if I didn't come, or if I didn't exist. I was only a bother to everyone and because of that they all didn't care if I just jumped off this bridge I was standing on to the cold dirty river below.

    It comes to me in my worst of times. I hide from them, those who could care less that I was with them or not. My hands fly to my knife concealed in my purse.

    ... ..... ..... .. . ......... .

    I see red welts on my skin again. Where's the blood? Where can I go to escape this... The voice won't let me leave... his words are true to me and I fervently believe that I am worth nothing, that if I just disappeared, no one would come for me, much less remember me...

    Just die, girl... no one would notice if you just disappeared... who do you think will care when you get raped or run over by a car...


    .. ..... . ... .. ....

    It's more than I can bear... the cuts aren't making me feel any better but it is something I now know that I deserve. Because I'm an extra package, because I am a bother, because I was born with no love, I must punish myself in place the the one who rules the earth. I am a miserable girl with nothing valuable in her body...

    Someone, anyone, hear this silent plea that I am too scared to cry out... Stop me from keep hurting myself... Stop me from attempting suicide...

    Please...