You know what I would like? To not be called a slut everyday.

I worry. I sin.

I wonder things. I ask things. I worry. I sin. Am I unlikeable? Do they have an excuse? Or have they just gotten tired of me and have decided I'm not worth their time? I want to know, to ask, but I'm scared of the truth. Maybe they don't care. I still have twitter, my letters, but... I worry. I sin. The constant "what if" goes through my mind. Should it matter? Should I care? I worry. I sin. Then I think, "Maybe they did, but it's anonymous." But why would it be public with the others and not with me? does it have to be a secret? Does it? I worry. I sin. Half of my anxiety attacks are brought on by worrying, I'm afraid it's partially my fault. I bring it on myself. Worrying is my Goliath. I worry. I sin.

Dreaming a nightmare

So lasnight I had...a very hellish dream. I dreamed I was cheating on my boyfriend. It was so wierd, I couldn't read his eyes when he had walked into that white-walled room. I only saw his face turn and twist into this tormented scowl. It frightens me. Scarred me. It's changing me. I'm afraid of myself and the hurt I could cause. I just want to be with him forever, and then I dream this? What kind of monster am I?

Do you know?

Do you know how much I want to break all my promises? Do you know how much I want to silence my little monsters, to see myself bleed so I know I'm alive and that this isn't some nightmare? More the you know... I do want it, those damn promises. I know they're there to protect me, but all I want is for this pain to stop. I just want to be whole again...

Anxiety

My chest feels like it's being torn apart. My anxiety attacks are getting worse and worse. I want to tear myself to pieces, then give everyone a piece of me so I won't spread myself any thinner. I can't make everyone happy, so I pull back- secluding myself and my thoughts. But even that is not safe, for my little monsters torment me.

"Go ahead and do it, you won't be in pain. No one will notice."

Those damn little monsters.

I wish you knew

I wish you could know how you make me feel when you fight. I wish you hurt like I did when everyone is yelling. I wish you knew what it felt like to cry yourself to sleep, or to cry in the shower so no one can hear you scream. I wish you knew what it was like to want to hurt yourself to take the pain away. I wish you knew everything.

Torn in two

I want to be on her side, but she's not thinking straight. This is going to just cause more trouble for her.

Hate the seating arrangement

So I currently hate the seating arrangement in Mrs. Cummins class. She stuck John Martin in between me and my boyfriend. John Martin!!! I fucking hate John Martin!!! I hate that mother fucking asshole that can't keep his eyes off my chest!!! He makes me sick!!! I'm fine sitting near the rest of the guys. The rest of the guys don't stare at my chest while their trying to talk to me. I hate it. I want to stab his eyes out!

I'm going to be mobile blogging ALOT.

I wish I was married right now. Not for sex, but so that I can go to sleep everynight feeling safe. So I can be with someone who loves me, my other half. <3

Unloved

He cried. He knows the pain I feel of being unloved.

I told him tonight about how much I've contemplated suicide, how many times I've held a knife with bad intentions.