im not doing anything good for my well being right now, and I don’t think a lot of people care but either way I need somewhere to let it out. Somewhere to have it get recognition. I sleep all day until someone has to come in to wake me up. I’m fairly young, so i don’t have the honor of living alone in my self pity yet. When people touch me it frightens me, specifically women, certain women. Not all of them. Cause I think there beautiful in every way possible. In and out. But I think it’s cause of all the ones that experimented with me, that took things from me that caused this shit. Now my mom can’t even lay on my bed without me feeling my skin burn. She shouldn’t be aloud to be there without my permission, it’s my room not hers. It makes me wanna tear at my skin. It’s all the big things going on in my head that cause the little things to cause me to spiral. Few days ago I couldn’t stop myself from being upset so I grabbed some shattered glass and got to work. My stomach was the only template cause my other body parts are exposed. Sometimes I have to redo it, it’s like drawing. I love art but if the line is to thin and not thick enough it doesn’t give off a good enough impression. The cuts are gone now but I feel like somethings been erased, something I’m not aloud to erase. I’ve dealt with certain trauma through therapy but suddenly things I hadn’t remembered until now is popping up. It makes me wanna tear at my hair. I lay in my own filth all day. I sleep in till 1:00 until someone has to come in and drag me out of bed. It’s not fair cause it’s my decision how long I can lay in my bed for. We had the new curtains put in and now sunlight fills my room and I hate it. It makes me sick. I’m struggling with looking at myself as well, so if I lay in a ball of covers, I won’t have to look at myself. Cause when I do I wanna dig my nails into my skin and pull it all off. I shake to much. I want to grab onto something even if I’m tearing out my own hair. The hardest thing about my life is I can’t kill myself. I can’t do so to forget about trauma or to get away from my world. The medication stops the suicidal thoughts from being stronger and I have things to live for. But I don’t think I deserve it. I haven’t done enough for people. I think I did to much for others...ones that didn’t deserve it. But I feel a need to punish myself for not working hard enough. It’s just hard, my brain hurts. I spend my time fighting bad thoughts and I’m exhausted by morning. So I sleep all day then at night I can be okay. But then I feel eyes burning in the back of my head. Telling me how awful I am for even thinking I could stay up at night. But I can’t sleep. I’m bad at sleeping. I live to far from town to runaway and I can’t drive. Why does this have to be happening to me? I’m thinking maybe my problems just aren’t strong enough for that. I shouldn’t be upset when others are suffering, instead I should be helping them. But I can’t. Noise is to noisy. It makes my ears bleed. I have my privileges and freedom taken away from me, but they say it’s done so I can be happier. Why do people keep telling me there gonna help me, then they don’t. I just want something, anything. I want someone to tell me something real. I want someone to tell me that I’m real. I start hallucinating when I’m to upset, sometimes it’s scary and sometimes it’s beautiful. I think the scary times are when my mind is punishing itself for not fighting it off enough. And the beautiful things is so I don’t die of heartbreak, so my body doesn’t decay completely. I don’t like myself, I get jealous easily and others success. Cause it doesn’t feel fair that someone can be gifted with success talent, there attractive! Not that they don’t have there issues I just don’t have anything to really hold me up. But I don’t accept others help but they should be helping themselves not me. Sometimes on really bad nights I feel hands tugging on me, I feel things crawling up me from inside my skin. I know I’m not well. I haven’t been since 4th grade. But that doesn’t feel fair. It’s not fair. I just want a chance. At least one more. I don’t want to be what I am or have been. I just want a restart button. I want to be, a normal, funny, just ok enough boy you see on the street. And if I can’t be given that why can’t I be given redemption. Or motivation something or someone to help me