A self destructive girl

Well.... That went amazingly well. I kept up with what I said... Yeah. I failed, again. I couldn't write because I didn't know what to write eventhough, it says my thoughts. Sometimes my thoughts are too fucked up to be shared.

I stabbed a yoga ball multiple times to get my anger and frustration out, punching myself on the head and smacking my head against walls is a new fave. I do this to myself, so I shouldn't even be dwelling on “why am I like this?” I'm fully aware of what I'm doing. I'm fully aware that I may need help. But will I? Possibly, not.

Being a walking contradiction isn't that great either. You say one thing and then you say another and change your mind. Indecisiveness. Wait. I lost my trail of thought there Sigh sometimes I think it's the world that makes me miserable. But that could also just be me wanting something/someone to blame for my misery. There really is no-one to blame for this, but myself. I was born this way and I gotta accept it. As hard as it is to accept my pathetic self, I gotta do it sometime, right?

Friday 10th November 2017 09:07

I've been awake for a while. Just chilling and listening to music, trying to drown out my frantic voice in my head. Sigh I had a strange thought last night. I should've wrote it but I was too cross faded to do fuck. So, I thought that maybe, people who are in comas are just tripping balls. Like they don't even realise they're in a coma, maybe it's some kind of chemical that's released in the brain to give you that coma sensation. But you're just tripping out like fuck, which is when people come out of comas they said weird things or just extremely confused; because their dank trip just ended. Like taking a load of acid and being in a coma, but you're just having a great time. High thoughts 👍

Im starting to gain some motivation, I applied for a job today. Just one, but I think it's better than nothing. Drawing as well, that's anything thing I've started (I've drawn the outline of a face, that is all)

I need to get more practical. Keep me busy. It's a lot easier said than done, especially when all you want to do it bang your head against the wall until you're unconscious. Speaking of unconscious. I stopped myself from blacking out too last night. Again cross faded. Took too big of a hit (MJ, is the only drug I do) and then I felt my body float, everything was black and I heard white noise surrounding me. It felt really surreal, but whilst I was in this strange floaty state, I noticed my heart rate was drastically slowing down and I was like shit I couldn't move my legs, but I could still slightly move my arms and fingers. So I looked pretty strange half blacking out, flailing my arms to keep me up. Good times.

I'm also trying to write a book, but it hasn't gotten very far. It's post-apocalyptic, sci-fi, thriller type. It's not bad, I guess.

I'm dying inside. Eating myself up from the inside out. Driving my emotions into a huge panick, causing deranged thoughts to infection my mind. Thoughts of hurting myself, hating others, pushing everyone away all because I'm running from myself. Hiding from the disgusting self-loathing creature that is stalking me. I lie to hide my truth, to make myself seem better than I am. I contradict myself all the time, like I am different people constantly having a debate. My intentions aren't clear anymore, my drive faded into dullness. I have nothing to give to the world anymore, but the thoughts that go through my mind. Does anything I do mean anything? I am worth something or nothing? Why am I so pathetic? Too many questions drone in and out of frequency, while repressed anger and frustration boils inside my stomach causing an itch to crawl over my body, I rub my ears vigorously with the palm of my hands -I feel my ears ache and burn with friction- as my heart gets launched up my trachea and an empty scream of heartache breaks through with hot tears. I want to hurt myself at this point, wanting to throw things, destroy anything and everything that's around me because I no longer care. I'm now numb and blind with emotion but there's still that other me, keeping my body in control; stopping me from being destructive. That little me that is still conscious throughout everything, has saved me multiple times from collapsing onto myself. I don't understand that little me, how or why she's there.

I don't understand a lot about myself. I guess many people don't. People do a lot of stupid and crazy things for their own reasons. People break. People hurt and suffer, while others watch with pleasure. The human brain really does fascinate me.

Thursday 9th November 2017 12:48

I just woke up. Yup this late in the afternoon. I'm unemployed. I don't want to work yet because I really am not ready. Great start to the day. Just woke up and I already want the day to end. I fucking hate waking up and having to do things. I'd prefer just nothingness. White noise and black space, so there's no-one that I can hurt or affect with my fucking negative self. I don't want to die, but I don't want to be alive either.

Thursday 9th November 2017 00:43

...okay I talked myself back into this, and I've made a promise to myself, for the billionth time, that I'm not going to give up. So let's see how many days I can keep this up for, before I get bored shall we? Alrighty, so... Back story.

Of what childhood I remember having, it was alright until I moved countries. I moved to England at the age of 4, and quickly adapted. I went to school and was learning fast. I was getting certificates and awards for things, I was a pretty good student. Fast-forward a few years. I'm now about 7ish, and school is shit. My dad had passed away around this time too. I'm getting picked on by a group of girls because I had a funny name. Getting picked on grew into full blown bullying. To the point where I would skip school, act up in class, and just try to avoid the whole school situation as I could. I started smoking, drinking and getting high by the age of 13. I also fell into a huge depressive state for a good few years because of a pedophile my mother was married too. Moved to Thailand at the age of 15 turning 16, and it was another rollercoaster of a ride too. Fell in-love, cheated, became a vile person, changed completely as a person (I do that alot), reunited with my first love and four years later we are living in the UK and trying to adjust to adulthood

My mother always told me that I had always been a miserable child. Thought I had bi-polar, but never really went into further investigation. I was free spirited should I say. I guess I've always been unsure about myself. I'm a strange one, and I know because I compare myself to a lot of people. I never used too, until people started doing it. Compared me to better people, talented, beautiful, smart and appear to have their shit together. People didn't expect much from me and so I stopped expecting much from myself. I honestly hate the way my mind works. It's like, a nuke went off in my brain and everything is in a post-apocalyptic state. It's a mess 👌 Streams of fucked up thoughts pollute my mind 97% of the time. I'm debating if I should get help or just let it ride out. It's a pretty one sided debate at the moment, but maybe one day I'll talk to someone. I mean, it's a shit ton of repressed emotions. And on the note of repressed emotions, I'm going to keep them repressed for a while because they're repressed for a reason.

Wednesday 8th November 2017 23:34

Hi. I have a very self destructive personality. Do I like it? Of course not. Do I do anything about it? No, because I don't have the motivation to do fuck all. I talk myself out of doing anything before an idea of doing something, pops into my mind. It's difficult, yes deep sigh 'tis but is life. I'm writing purely because I need some kind of distractive release, and I've always enjoyed writing – so I'm doing it 👍 it's something to just let my mind splurge all of its crap out and so I can look back and read how I've developed and hopefully improved (fingers crossed).

Lately I've been feeling like shit. To put it bluntly. I've been weeping my soul out, throwing things and ripping up paper – writing destructive thoughts out onto the ripped pieces of paper; my bedroom looked like a warzone. All because I think I'm worthless. I'm a waste of a person. I'm selfish. Manipulative, e.t.c. The list goes on for a good novel. All I've been doing is wallowing in self-hatred and pity, feeling depressed and not looking after myself in general. I don't understand why I get these thoughts because I've had them since I was very young. (It's time for a back story, dun dun duuuun. Side note- Im writing this as it's fresh from the brain, so everything is everywhere and we most likely won't have a point to any of this. So.... Ah shit)