mydiarynotes

[mydiarynotes]

26.05

I actually noticed that are way bigger time holes between my entries. Maybe because I used the diary back then, as the means for coping with pain, isolation and trauma. But back to the matters at hand - I'm doing better. I think. My wounds somewhat healed but the scars are still there, to remind me. If I was my past self I would do my best to hide those scars from other people. To keep up my act that never actually worked. But I did it anyways, thinking someday this will work out. I never knew anything else.

I finished my school stuff online, bc I wasn't prepared to deal with my classmates. I'm seeing my therapist twice a week, now with new prescripted meds. Currently, my therapist and me are trying to separate trauma from myself to bring out my "true" personality. Though I fear that I maybe too far gone. The trauma and the pain I experienced is etched deeply inside my mind and my soul. I'm so deeply connected to it that I may never be truly free from my trauma.

But it doesn't mean that I should give up. There are people who care about me - my uncle, my boyfriend and his group of friends. Speaking of them, during the whole runaway thing, they were worried sick. In my previous entries, I never wrote anything about them but I should mention them. I think they are a good people, though with issues.

So am I.

I don't know them for long, but I see inside their eyes that their worry is real. When they met us, back in the psych ward...I never saw a friend that looked so devastated. And then we talked - it was a hard, chaotic and very emotional talk. It was rough but it was necessary. It ached to talk about the things that I desperately tried to hide from the world. From them.

But my boyfriend had it way worse. Though I supported him with my hand on his, he still was barely to choke out that he was abused and neglected by his parents. That his siblings basically chose to turn blind eye to the abuse he experienced - when he called them, begging them to help him to get out of his house, they said in reply that he should endure it until college that is.

But he changed over the course of those few months. There's a small spark of light in his eyes, that I never saw before. Before his eyes were dull and devoid of any life - bu he still remained empathetic and compassionate. Even towards me - he didn't let me isolate myself. My ex - best friend, wanted to be a hero that will erase all the trauma with the power of love. The issues would start when the pain would come back to haunt me again. But he...he knows my suffering and my darkness. He knows that I'm a flawed person and doesn't treat me with pitying looks or like made out of glass.

For that I'll be glad till the end of my life.

[mydiarynotes]

15.04

A lot of time has passed since my last entry in March. To be completely honest, I don't where to begin. First of all, I was allowed to write in a diary just 2 days ago - my psychiatrist recommended (read: somewhat forced) me to cut myself of from the source of my pain. Which was my diary - this dirty old notebook with torn pages and ugly as hell cartoonish doodles. Second is that I attend therapy since my last entry - well, me and my therapist had a rocky start as I refused any help and closed myself off. In other words, I isolated myself. Whenever the therapist touched an uncomfortable topic, I yelled at her and tried to run away from the room.

But after the first sessions (that weren't great or productive), I finally began to come out of that shell. Why? I'm not completely sure but I think I was just so exhausted and the habit of neglecting my emotions came back to bit me in the ass - I felt like was a mere step away from losing any sorts of control over myself and my feelings. My psychiatrist said that those were the signs of being close to a complete mental breakdown - she said that if that would happen, I'd have to recover from that for years in isolation.

Thankfully that never happened.

While I'm still trying to heal from my relapse, I have to move on to another topic. Which is my boyfriend - yes, he's my partner (also in crime) but now I admit that we're in a relationship. Something that I would never have courage nor heart to admit - but I broke my shackles and left my pain behind. Of course not entirely - but some of it, yes. Anyways, back to the topic - my boyfriend's brother and sister were called and the abuse he suffered from was finally revealed.

He's placed with his sister but he isn't moving out, because he doesn't want to leave me behind. I almost cried when I heard it, but I think he noticed that my eyes became watery so he just hugged me tightly. Even though he attends a regular therapy and is on some strong meds (just like me), his good side didn't change a bit. He still considers others above all else and is willing to suffer in pain, alone. For other's sake. He isn't perfect, but who the fuck is? I've made a lot of mistakes and I will never be ideal.

But that's what makes us human, right?

When I left the mental hospital (but I my uncle and my psychatrist still keep an eye on me) I finally was prepared to face the mess I've created. With my old best friend - yes, the same one that I've broken up with over a text. I set up a meeting at the cafe over a coffee - when I saw him, after all that, he looked like a mess. But the only thing that I noticed in his eyes was sadness, grief and pain. And anger.

The talk didn't go great but it wasn't a disaster either. But we decided to end our relationship completely - it was something we both agreed on. He's a reminder of my past, the pain I endured and the trauma that kept confined in my suffering. I couldn't let go but now I partially can. He isn't a bad person, no he will never be. But I don't want to be constantly reminded of what happened to me.

But we CAN reconnect - just not now. Maybe after a few years - after that I said that while I didn't love him, he still was my best friend in middle school. After that I wished him good luck and then he left. He's a good person, I hope he recovers - I'm aware that through my actions I hurt him, a LOT. Like a stab in the back. While trying to protect him from myself, I only damaged him further. And yes, I feel guilty over what I've done him - I basically used him as an escape from my shitty situation. And that something I need to work on.

And then the last topic, which is my mother. I'm glad that I didn't talk to her, because it would just deepen my old wounds. My uncle summarized what happened to her - currently she's under arrest for tax evasion and possession of drugs (such as heroine or LSD). Though it is considered to lock her up in a mental hospital due to her emotional & mental unstability. After the most recent session my therapist, I think I finally figured her out. She just drifts along with the current, lost in the depths of sorrow, pain and trauma that she didn't recover from. She lost everything she ever had, and to somehow keep her shit together, she started using drugs and got herself addicted to sex.

What I didn't expect is that she's pregnant. Yep, that's right - she got knocked up by one of the guys from the latino party. With her addiction to sex, it shouldn't be surprising. The question is - who's gonna take the baby in? Most of my relatives are poor or dead or too mentally unstable to take care of a newborn. What's worse is that she's in the 8 month (I don't know how I didn't notice, maybe I thought that she just got fat and that's it).

The family court considers my uncle or one cousin that lives in Auckland (really, really far away) - according to those files, she's mentally and financially stable. Well, I still wait for the court decision, so I guess I need to find out in the near future.

Also, my mother was forced to take some tests, and it turns out that she's going to have a healthy boy. Poor kid is going to be separated from my mother right after birth - I know its for the best but I can't help but feel sad.

Speaking of this stuff I took a pregnancy test to see if got knocked up by ex - best friend - thankfully all five of them came out negative. So I just breathed a sigh of relief - I'm not in a mental condition to be a mother. Especially with a guy that I cut off from.

I can finally look towards the future.

[mydiarynotes]

19.03

A lot has happened since my last entry and I don't where to start - well for starters I'll live in a small white room in a fucking mental hospital - it turned out that our plan for freedom failed. They almost caught up us and then he overheard that his older brother expected us to come to him. To get us locked up in a mental hospital. We freaked out and spent the night on the streets - we had to get out of that city, no matter what.

But I overstimated myself - I didn't expect for myself to fall back into old habits when placed in a extremely tense situation. In other words, I relapsed along with him. We got ourselves drunk with a stolen beer bottles and attempted to jump from the roof. I don't remember much but supposedly, his older brother stormed into an action and saved us from another attempt. Fucking embarassing. How can you fuck up something so simple as that?!

The next thing I remember is that I woke up, restrained - I was in a hospital, though a normal one. Still not in a mental one. But not for long - then the doctor came with my uncle, visibly stressed. He said that I got alcohol poisoning - fucking again. I didn't remember how many bottles we stole but it had to be a lot. The doc said that if I continue to that (along with being on meds) my liver won't gonna make it. After he left, my uncle tried to talk to me but I didn't say a word - but the only thing I said is that I convinced him for the runaway plan.

I was in coma for 4 days, so my uncle summed everything up. My boyfriend's older bro arrived unexpectedly at his old home to check up - it was way worse than I imagined. Drugs, empty beer bottles and condoms everywhere - every food was stale, nothing fresh. The furniture was in complete ruin - a run down of a shithole. And he lived like that for years. At least my uncle, though flawed, cared about my well being - I had my own clean space, fresh food and new clothes in the wardrobe.

My boyfriend's mom was stoned so she spilled every detail - she didn't even recognize her older son, thinking that he was the drug dealer. The jig was up and my boyfriend's parents got arrested under heavy charges of child neglect/abuse, drug possession and more. From what I was told, his older brother filed for the emergency custody so he can look out for him - he was so tense, but also (according to my uncle) that his gaze was filled with guilt and sorrow.

My boyfriend is awake but (from what I was told) he jumped first and twisted his ankle - he was so afraid of coming back home that he thought that the best way to end it was to simply die. I'm not surprised - I remember the days I was stuck with my aunt, uncaring woman that neglected me in every way possible. She hated me, more than anything - she took me in solely for money.

In two days I'll be discharged and transported to a mental hospital with him. Am I scared? Of course, I am. I don't know what awaits me out there, especially being stuck in that facility for so long. I fucking hate it.

Am I still in pain?

[mydiarynotes]

24.02

Sleeping in an abandoned train carriage wasn't too pleasant - but at least we're close to his relatives. I mean that we are 15 miles away from the destination - in the meantime I thought about my future. All this time I drifted along with the current, I didn't expect to see myself live after my twenties - I was convinced that I would be a dead meat. It wasn't too far - fetched though as I attemped to take my own life with him - the double suicide I secretly dreamt of. But now, it isn't the case anymore. I don't what future holds but I want to see it happening before my very eyes. I'm not in a rush to see my deceased family. Or my dead friends.

In an internet cafe I needed to check out something - and my fears came true. My uncle and my boyfriend parents declared as missing and they're looking for us. No way in hell I'll ever want for him to see his parents again. They don't deserve to call themselves parents after all they did to him. The damage they caused. Sure, my mother is a neglectful and mentally unstable bitch but she didn't abuse in any way. She just disappeared from my life, only to come back for few days. Then she ran away after getting what she wanted.

The time I spent in her shithole actually wasn't so bad - I mean her house in a fucking ruin but she mostly wasn't there. She wasn't behaving like her usual self - like a neglectful and manipulative bitch she is. She just wished us good luck when we left after getting enough money through various jobs.

And then we hit the road and we keep going - at 8 P.M we have the bus that will drive us towards our destination. I can sense that he's extremely stressed that soon he will have to face his siblings - not only that I can see in his eyes how truly terrified he is. Just like I was with a perspective of living and enduring everything around me. My ex - best friend that brought with him memories that I desperately wanted to forget. The oppression and pain I had to face at school due to my terrible reputation. My ex - friends that I met during my lowest point (before my suicide attempt) and dragged my into drugs and alcohol. Something I made myself like and enjoy, despite knowing that it caused more harm than good.

I cut myself off from those relationships and met someone else - just as lost as confused. Like me. He didn't have any motive or benefits from inviting me to his group, despite my terrible reputation - but he still went ahead. He didn't know me - and even though we bonded through fucked up circumstances, I still want to have this connection. I won't screw this up - and I refuse to sewer it. He undestands my pain and my darkness better than anyone else - a stranger that made an effort to befriend me. That didn't have in mind only sex or anything physical. At first it was purely platonic love and affection that I refused to acknowledge.

But now I understand. I have a lot of issues but I won't let my past overwhelm, just like I did before, not knowing any other way out. And I won't do this alone.

Never again.

[mydiarynotes]

12.02

I have no fucking idea what just happened. A day ago I fucking ran away from home - but before that I got into a pretty big fight with my uncle. Because I found that the psychiatrist decided to put me in a mental hospital for the rehab and clinical healing from the self harm addiction. And I was fine with that. But everything fell apart whe my uncle said that for the unknown period of time. Though not less than three/two months. That's what I argued about. I was so terrified of leaving my place, my home for more than a month for a foreign place.

I locked myself in my room and I got a text from my best friend. He said that his psychiatrist also decided to put him in a mental hospital for an unknown period of time. From his texts it was easy to guess that he was more scared of leaving than me. We didn't even know if this mental hospital wouldn't be an another hellhole. So when my uncle left for work, I came up with a plan. A plan to run away to my batshit insane mother.

As awful as she is, she would let me stay for a week or two with him. So I contacted my mother and she happily agreed - it was really suspicious but I didn't really care at that point. Then I called him and informed him about my escape plan - he was hesitant at first but I convinced him. I packed my things into a backpack, bought some cans with food and bottles with water. Then I bought the tickets - I stole some money from my uncle's savings.

I felt awful about this but I decided to do it anyways. I bought tickets for the both of us - to stay fresh and sharp, I took a shower and I ate a really big dinner so I wouldn't waste any food from the one that I bought for the runaway. I also packed some money into a backpack and I was ready to go. But before leaving, I left a letter for my uncle.

I contacted him to meet at the train station. Then we agreed to turn off our phones so that non one could track us down. I felt guilty but confident at the same time. Then we met at the station, just when the train arrived. We were really doing this. We were running away from home. When we found our sitting spots, I could finally relax.

But then I noticed something gray and large on his left arm, while he was unzipping his hoodie. It was a big fresh bruise, with a visible fingerprints marks. Another one, covered under his red t - shirt. Then it finally clicked - why he created that whole attic hideout. He was abused by his parent - mother or father. Or worse, both.

I asked him but at first he denied weakily, caught off guard. But he knew that there was no point in hiding it from me - he confessed about his straight up terrible situation at home. And I thought I had a horrible life, leaving under one roof with my aunt, back in the middle school.

He said all the things that happened to him, after he left the psych ward. How his father went on a rampage, almost beating him up to the point that he could barely move from the avalanche of punches and kicks. How his father called him a "problem child" that shouldn't have been born in the first place. And how his mother drowns her sorrow, her husbands sexual and physical abuse in all kind of drugs. How his older siblings straight up abandoned him, left alone to deal with him fathers domestic abuse and negligence from him mother.

I was close to crying. I mean really really close. I could fell my eyes becoming watery. But he said with a painful smile that he endured it for years - it all started when his older siblings moved out. He just waited for the exact moment to end it all - quickly and swiftly. He didn't expect to survive our double suicide attempt.

But then, I came up with an idea. He has an older siblings - they probably don't about the abuse and the neglect he went through. According to him, it all started it when they left. So I proposed a plan after we'll arrive at my mother's place. We will stay with her for day or two and then, he'll meet up with one of his siblings. He reluctantly agreed but all could see in his was pain and stress.

If there's one good thing that I could do in my life, I sincerely hope is to bring siblings together.

[mydiarynotes]

10.02

I didn't write for while, huh? The last twenty days were not only super chaotic but also painful - and I discovered that I got myself addicted to self - harm. Of all things I got addicted to pain inflicted on myself. I guess it's fitting for such a screw up that I am. But the cycle of addiction didn't last long as 4 days later after 20.01 I went a bit overboard. The wound I inflicted with a kitchen knife was so deep that it wouldn't stop bleeding. I was certain that I was going to die.

Then, my new friend that was ice skating with me showed at my doorstep - it turned out that I forgot my scarf from the school and he came to me to give it back. I opened the door and he helped me to stop the bleeding - he was nonchalant about that it genuinely caught me off guard. Then he showed me his wounds - the fresh ones and the old ones. Because of that, we came to a silent agreement - in my room we would meet for self harm. Actually it more enjoyable to do it with someone - the silence wasn't so disturbing and overwhelming.

After we discovered each others secrets, our time together was much more pleasant. We drinked together, played cards and eat pizza in the hideout - it was so cozy that it actually reminded me of home that i had before the accident happened. I had nothing to hide and he welcomed the way I am - he's fucked up the same way I am.

Then we got drunk and attempted double suicide. As I said before, I had no intention of dying so I had no fucking idea what came to me. To do something like that. My uncle came from work to home and discovered us, slowly bleeding out to death in my room. The next thing I remembered that I woke up in a some kind of white room, restrained.

That's when I knew that I ended up in a psych ward. My wrists were bandaged properly with fresh dressings - everything was so overwhelming - the lights, clean white walls and the silence around me. They released me after 6 days under observation and I also got my diagnosis.

Depression, anxiety along with early stages of schizophrenia and PTSD.

I wanted to deny it but deep down I was too exhausted to argue. The lifestyle I had was what led me to do this - with people looking at me like I'm some kind of psycho. They also released my new friend with a similair diagnosis - but without PTSD. Instead he was diagnosed with panic attacks.

We've knew each other for a month but somehow I feel more connected to him than to my old friend. We had similair issues, both us are fucked up in the head - we learned our lesson about how deceitful and terrible people can be. Both of us experienced great losses at a young age and where hurt by the people that we cherished the most. That feeling was what I wanted the most in the entire fucking world.

We've met at the cafe, four days after were were released from the psych ward. The psychiatrists were supposed to decide if we were so mentally ill that we need to be put in a mental hospital. We had a long talk - we realised that we both fucked up. We got connected through meetings that were about self harm. The way I formed this bond was screwed up but I realised that I didn't want to leave him behind. That despite all things, he was the one who understood me. He never intended to be my knight in a shining armor, my saviour - what he wanted to be was to be my friend. That's why I fell for him.

I wanted to be with my old friend because I wanted to kill the emptiness and self pity that haunted me. I rejected him because he never saw me as a friend but someone that needed to be saved - a damsel in distress. A princess locked up in the cage from suffering, self hatred and self pity. I knew that full well so I decided to cut off from him and spend my time in loneliness. That's when I met my new friend - he never saw me as a damsel in distress, someone that needed to be rescued to satisfy his hero complex.

No, he did it because he felt a sense of familiarity and genuinely wanted to form a bond, a friendship. Despite that we were both in a dark place. He gave me space and time but somehow I fell for him first even though we knew each other for a month. That was what I realised when I was in the psych ward.

After we discussed what we did wrong, I confessed. I knew it was the right time. And he accepted it saying that my love isn't one sided. He came to that conclusion when he just returned home. And so I kissed him.

For that I want to keep living.

[mydiarynotes]

20.01

I think I am a book example of a "broken" person - stripped of any empathy for others, mostly prefering quiet and lonely places - when I wake up from my nightmares, I still hear voices inside my head. For that to stop I usually smash stuff my fists - mirror, cups or mugs. Anything that can shatter to pieces. And that brings me comfort, for unknown reasons. The moment a falling object goes into a contact with a floor (or wall) and then breaks into pieces.

With Monday, came school. I dragged my ass to that instutition with low hopes for myself - the rumors were already circulating throughout school that I dumped such hottie that was my ex - best friend from middle school. To those questions I was replying shortly - Life isn't a fairy tale. That was the end of the conversation.

Yesterday, around midnight I had a small session with a razor so it was necessary for me to change my bandages. I did my best to stop the bleeding and cover fresh wounds with my hoodie's long sleeves - I guess it worked but I have to be careful to not get caught.

After lessons ended, I joined my team as they planned to go ice skating - I never had an occasion to learn ice skating, so I joined them. Their leader, as they call him Jack, (even though it's not his real name) taught me the very basics of ice skating and it felt so unreal and refreshing. The village I came from was in Maine state, so I always had a contact with snow or ice - but then I had to move to a big city and never had an occasion to enjoy the stuff I did with my family in snow. I didn't have a chance - my aunt is haunted orthodox catholical witch so anything I wanted to do for fun, she viewed as a sin. My uncle is always busy working, as he keeps us afloat.

After the death of my family (excluding my mother) I practically never had an occasion to explore a hobby, discover my interests anew - that's when the realisation hit me. I had sex with him more than once to fill my emptiness - I didn't have any interests, hobbies - all I did was running away from the issue that I was in a state of constant apathy. I mean, I still am but now I'm aware of it.

That's whem I rediscovered my new hobby - ice skating. That was a feeling that I felt like was flying above clouds - so light an free of worries. Maybe I should find more hobbies, if I want to feel this feeling again? I have no idea.

But then again, I'm tired and exhausted for all this.

Hoping hurts. I wish I could stop.

[mydiarynotes]

14.01

Another day, another misery ecounterns me. I don't maybe I have some kind of magnet that attracts miseries - If that's the case, that would fit me pitiful life. Some people attract metal objects, I attract miseries that follow me and will follow me till the end of my life. Really I hate my life but something (or someone) that I hate the most is myself.

When it comes to him, I think now he understands that I don't want to do anything with him. So he distanced himself from which I'm glad about. It will save him from my screwed up life and coldness that resides deep in my heart. When I bumped into him when I was walking at school, all I could was pain from the rejection. Then I said: It's for the best. I said those words him and left him shocked. He was standing alone when I walked past him to my new group of friends.

They're alright - I mean they still smoke weed or drink beer but they aren't life losers. Not quite - I mean they aren't a best example to follow but c'mon - I'm not a role model either. An ex - cheap wine addict with a tendency to hurt anyone close to her and with a share pile of family issues.

Anyways, after school we went to our hiedout - one of them ordered one pizza and one salad (glutten allergy) - because their hideout is an abandoned attic transformed they have a big balcony with a view on the city - and the view is dazzling. I mean before the accident I lived in a small village on the middle of nowhere. When I went to live with my uncle, I was overwhelmed by the city - it was also one of the reasons I started cutting myself with a razor. I though I would never go back to my old habits.

I guess I was wrong.

Again. Again. Again. Again and again.

[mydiarynotes]

07.01

I could say that I joined a new group of "friends" - sure, they're much more friendly - and also I broke up with him, under an excuse that we have too many differences that split us apart. He replied that he wants a proper talk in which I would explain the reason I want end our relationship. I refused to talk to him, saying that I just want to get over it. It a nail in the coffin and he just replied: "Alright, if that's what will make you happy. Farewell". I did it - I burned every remaining bond that we shared, bridges have been burned.

It's over.

I'm not fit to be a person by his side - I'm manipulating, cold bitch that distances herself from anyone, even those who wanted to help me - through that coldness I wounded more people than I should have. That's the main reason that I broke up with him - we are to different, coming from opposite family backgrounds.

I loved him and I convinced myself that I wouldn't taint him with my pain, my darkness. But deep down, he's too soft, too sensitive to withstand what I became. If I'm going to ever have a partner by my side, he needs to be stronger than me, not sensitive but...strong enough to endure my darkness. Judging by what I observed, ever since he confessed and reminded who he was to me, I noticed that he's too shy and vulnerable. My family would ruin him and that tale wouldn't have a happy ending - it's not a fairy tale in which I'm fixed by the so - called "power of love". That's not how it works.

When I joined them, my new group I felt that I belong with them. They aren't mean and they didn't some quite messed up stuff - for example robbing an old lady from her money to buy a fresh dose of heroine. That was the part that scared the shit out of me. Sure, they suicidal but so am I. I'm no different from them. We played UNO and then watched some TV while eating pizza. Surprisingly, it was fun, just hanging around and not doing drugs or drinking liters of beer.

We've told each other quite a few stories from our lives and we also share a problematic family background. Another thing that we have in common and that's also what surprised me - again, they have a bad reputation at school but so am I. Classmates hate me for being with them, a school weirdo who had a habit of drinking cheap wine in the girls toilet.

But the biggest surprise occured me in the morning - I woke up from another nightmare, but their voices in my head couldn't shut up, even though I woke up from the dream. I was so terrified that in fear I smashed the mirror with my right hand, clenched into a fist.

And while looking at my reflection when I was smashing the mirror, I noticed a glimpse of myself, back when I was starting high school - I was so cold and unaffectionate - I don't want to revert myself into that creature that I was once. But I'll use some rules that I used back then. My new group was right, I'm just as broken as they are.

This way, nobody is going to hurt me.

I'm sure of it.

[mydiarynotes]

06.01

My classmates tend to say that I'm hollow. With my empty dead stare in my eyes, I could be with one foot in the grave - I'm shallow, barely eighteen and with no perspectives in life. For me, I just follow the current if it feels right for me. During December, I remember that I was so happy - many stuff happened but I kept going.

And I intend to keep going in the future. Maybe.

Anyways, I'm back to my old rules - when I was beginning high school I made a set of three rules:

Proceed with necessary caution and keep everyone at a distance

Do not show weakness, keep the facade of a bored student

No love. It kills people - like my best friend in middle school

While the facade rule won't work anymore due to my reputation at school, the rest is easy to follow. After all, I followed those rules in the past for more than a year. This how I got involved myself with my so - called friends.

However I got noticed by another group - also losers. I smoked weed behind the school's trash cans during the lunch break - they say that they see my exhaustion and numbness and as they put it, it's for the best to be cold as ice. Finally someone who gets it. Non - one won't hurt me anymore, not even my mom.

What worries me is the aftermath of suicide. If there's the day in which I'll choose to end my own life, I know what it follows. The guilt, sorrow and misery that bears inside - this feeling of complete hopelessness. And also something else worries me - that some other people will, for example him will notice my wounds from yesterday.

Anyways, after school I ended up in their base - an abandoned attic on the outskirts of the city but decorated cosily, renovated and with cute lamps. There were drugs but not some strong ones - mollies, weed and a bit of cocaine. I smoked again some weed, and then we talked. There are 5 of us along with me.

I think I joined their clique, I can understand them but without showing empathy. I need cut off from my past and my mistakes by being to affecionate and sensitive. It was my error that allowed my pain and misery to happen - and I fixed my mistake by blocking his phone number and leaving group chat on Messenger. I messaged that I'm leaving them and it's the end of our acquaintanceship. They replied like that: If you want to, that's fine.

I guess I was right. They were friends just in name.

[mydiarynotes]

05.01

Well, I screwed up as always. I thought I had the situation under control - my uncle arrived, and he saw us - me and him sleeping on the couch together, under a blanket. He went really mad - he had to the fuck out of here, as soon as possible.

I had an argument with my uncle - a big one. But the topic went on the wrong rails - my mother. See, my dad wanted to tell me a secret before he died but I never got a chance to hear this super big secret. Eventually I forgot all about it.

After I locked myself in my room, I took my eyes on the scars - on my wrists. I don't know why but when my uncle left for some kind of important meeting, I did it again. I have no idea, why I did it - what caused this? I have no idea. I wanted to relieve my pain, that's all.

The issue was to stop the bleeding, after I did it. As I hate overdose state (I was on drugs many times guys, c'mon) cutting myself with a razor was something that I enjoyed when I was finishing middle school. I guess old habits die hard.

Do I have a death wish? I think so. Back in my previous diary entries I was lying to myself - with the blood droplets dripping down on my desk in my room I finally realized. I was attracted to alcohol as I saw in it a possibility of death.

My mom would stop hating me if I was dead, she just wouldn't care. My friends barely see me as a their "friend" and him...I don't want to overload him with my issues. Besides, I think I got carried away. I bended my iron rule - to proceed with caution and to keep everyone at a distance.

I cannot forget how of a horrible human being I am.

Credits: https://x.com/darkecoracer/status/1180239099522879489/photo/1

[mydiarynotes]

04.01

I guess I made good impression in the hospital even though I tried to act normal. The doctor said that I appear to be more lively, still a bit exhausted and hollow but there's progress. Works for me, as I was getting tired when Nicole and Dina got into an argument over the utility of a casual volleyball. I wanted to get out as soon as possible.

Well my prayers became reality so I got checked out today in the morning. I just got "the talk" to not overdose alcohol so much that can I literally die. Eh, I don't want to die this way - it's lame. But still much better than dying in the car crash like my dad.

I got some pills which name I forgot and left the hospital. Sadly my uncle worked this day overtime to cover medical bills - which was one of the reason I felt guilty for drinking that I got alcohol poisoning. I drove the bus all the way home - my uncle before leaving left me a spare pair of keys.

Well even though I felt shitty, it wasn't that bad because I didn't feel dizzy anymore. I almost literally puked all over the bed back in the hospital - I guess now I'm against alcohol, literally disgusted by it. I pray to God (if he exists) so that I wouldn't find my way to drugs. Enough is enough.

I made scrambled eggs and a cup of bitter green tea for the breakfast (the rumors are true, hospital food sucks) and I ate it sitting alone in the kitchen. However I heard someone knocking and it was him. But the peace I enjoyed didn't last long.

My mother called me on the phone.

And the conversation went like this:

ME: What do you want?

MOM: Please, my dear daughter lend me some money. 100 should be enough to cover my bills for this shithole

ME: That's the only reason you called? For money? I didn't know what to expect but this is dissappointing.

MOM: How could you?! To talk like that! TO YOUR OWN MOTHER!

ME: MOTHER MY ASS (that's when I started crying)! AFTER THE ACCIDENT YOU FREAKED OUT AND YOU'VE ABANDONED ME! THEN YOU TRIED TO TRICK ME FOR MONEY! NOT TO SEE YOUR ONLY SURVIVING CHILD BUT ONLY FOR SOME CASH!!!

MOTHER: THIS IS MY RIGHT! I HAD GIVEN BIRTH TO YOU, BITCH! YOU CAN DO ME THIS FAVOR! YOU WICKED LITTLE BITCH! I'VE WISHED IT YOUR SISTER THAT WOULD HAVE SURVIVED THIS FUCKING CAR ACCIDENT!

ME: SHE WOULD HAVE SURVIVED? SHE SURVIVED BUT IN THE FACE OF YOUR FUCKING INSANITY, DAD DEAD AND OUR BROTHER DYING ON THE HOSPITAL BED...SHE JUST COULDN'T TAKE IT ANYMORE! HER FACE WAS RUINED BECAUSE OF THE BURNS AFTER THE CAR EXPLODED, THE THING SHE CARED ABOUT SO MUCH STRIPPED AWAY FROM HER.

MOM: THAT'S NOT AN EXCUSE!

ME: DON'T YOU GET IT?! WHEN HER BOYFRIEND BROKE UP WITH HER, THAT WAS THE LAST STRAW!

MOM: WHAT THE FUCKING ARE TALKING ABOUT?!

ME: SHE FUCKING COMMITTED SUICIDE (that's also when he found everything that was going on. I guess he didn't know the whole story after all), DO YOU LISTEN TO ME, YOU OLD WHORE? 3 MONTHS AFTER THE ACCIDENT SHE SLIT HER FUCKING THROAT IN THE HOSPITAL BATHROOM. YOU RAN AWAY, CAUGHT UP IN YOUR SICK DELUSIONS AFTER MY BROTHER, YOUR FREAKING GOLDEN CHILD SUCCUMBED TO HIS INJURIES.

Mom didn't say a word but I didn't finish yet.

ME: I BEGGED YOU NOT TO RAN AWAY, TO DON'T LEAVE ME ALONE. BUT YOU DIDN'T CARE! IF YOU DON'T CARE ABOUT ME THEN I ALSO DON'T! I FUCKING HATE YOU!!! DO YOU GET IT NOW, YOU OLD BITCH!? IF IT WASN'T FOR MY UNCLE, I WOULD BE LONG GONE, BURIED 6 FT UNDER IN A COFFIN! NOW GET THE FUCK OUT OF MY LIFE!

That's when I ended the call - I was breathing so fast with my head spinning and tears running down my cheeks. I sat on the sofa, in the living room when I heard the doors creaking. He was standing there, in an utter shock. Damn it, I forgot he was there when I was arguing with my mother

Him: What?

He was terrified, standing there with a one single tear, running down his cheek. I tried to get up to comfort him, but I was also a complete mess.

Him: Did...Did..you try...to...commit...suicide?

I guess I didn't tell him when I was drunk. He didn't know.

After I went to my uncle I was a complete mess. I didn't grieve properly my almost whole dead family and it bit me in the ass. I could barely sleep, throwing up all night after I had nightmares (which was happening almost every single night), I could barely eat or sit in class. The images of what happened to my family, what I saw were haunting every hour. I couldn't take it anymore so I tried jump off the roof. It was my uncle who convinced to me to do not jump.

I couldn't hide it from him.

Me:.........Yes

I don't remember much from that moment. I remember that was hugged each other for a very long time and then we talked a lot about what happened to us. I don't believe in God but maybe it was some kind of a higher force that made us meet again. Then after the talk we kissed. And yes dear reader, we had sex. Even though without a condom (we did it in the moment of passion, not thinking straight) we played safe.

I guess after all that, he still loves me.

And I love him too.

[mydiarynotes]

03.01

Some people hate hospitals. But I love hospitals - I can lazy around, free of worries! Like Rue from Euphoria. People on my ward are...well weird, like a good weird. There's Dina, the most miserable housewife that has 4 kids, one of them is in the juvie. Her husband stays overtime at work and probably cheated multiple times on Dina. She broke her leg when she was going down on the icy stairs. She mostly screams and argues on the phone with her husband but also talks about her boring life which is entertaining.

There's also Nicole - a girl attending 2nd grade of the middle school. She broke her arm during volleyball match and she aspires to be a professional volleyball player and to win champions etc. The way she talks about her recent volleyball matches is so adorable - I can see that she isn't corrupted by how cruel sports can be. Maybe because she's so passionate about volleyball that this determination is what that keeps her going.

However her mom isn't a nice type. She has a cold and strict demeanor and the way she talked to Nicole was like a scolding a dog rather than supporting because she broke her fricking arm during volleyball match. It really reminds me of my dad - despite his optimistic demeanor, he was also a strict type. When I broke my leg and got a severe concussion during (I think) hockey match my dad argued mith me rather than cheering me up, because my injury was what allowed my team to win.

The worst part is that 2 months after I got out of the hospital, the car accident happened. Back then I was still angry at my dad and I didn't want to hear any kind of apology from him. I remember the regret and guilt I felt when the doctor informed that my dad died on spot. I couldn't hear his apology anymore. The more I think about it, I can understand him more - I think he wasn't angry but he was super worried. After all his younger daughter broke her fricking leg and got a severe concussion. It's a big enough reason to be worried about.

Anyways, I spent most of the time talking to this 2 - Nicole loves to talk about sports while Dina generally complains about her life and the fact that her husband probably cheats on her for over 5 years.

What worries me is what the doctor said - he said that I'm staled physically and probably mentally, judging by my look in my eyes. He said that this gaze reminds him of his grandpa on his deathbed...so hollow and exhausted. Anyways, that's why I'm staying in the hospital till 6th January.

After the usual checkup, my (I guess) partner (I don't know how to call him) arrived. He said that he couldn't sleep because he thought all night about me confession when I was sober, not long after I found out what I did. When I woke up in the hospital.

He asked me if I was telling the truth.

I don't know how to describe this feeling - it's really warm but also painful. My mom claimed that she loved me but in the end she abandoned, chasing after money rather than staying with her only surviving child. I lost any trust that I had in her. But...it was me that decided to cut off from him. It was too painful, knowing that we might not see each other ever again. That's why I made this stupid, foolish decision - not only that choice affected me but also him.

It was selfish and stupid of me.

But I know deep in my heart that what I said was true. That's the ironic part - alcohol made me say all the things that I kept hidden from him - that in fact I fell for him. Because we knew each other and deep down we fell for each other because we are so similar. Two troubled young adults with nowhere to go, with no direction and with a complicated past and troubled family situation.

I clenched my hands into fists and I took a deep breath.

" Yes. What I said yesterday was true".

I was shivering like a damsel in distress and then we hugged tightly for at least a minute. I don't know maybe the atmosphere caused this but...we kissed, and got ourselves into a relationship. I'm his girlfriend now.

[mydiarynotes]

02.01

It wasn't a good idea to drink alcohol during New Year's Eve - well guess what? I woke up in the hospital with alcohol poisoning - freaking great. And let's just ignore the fact that (as it turns out) slept with my (reunited at long last) old best friend from middle school. I slept with him, drunk like a pig. I could barely walk, from what I was told. After I made a promise to myself to do not drink any beer or anything that has alcohol. I hope (besides the fact that I had sex with my old best friend) that at least I did it with a condom. But I'm to embarassed to ask him.

I don't remember much from the party - what was so embarrasing is that when I got drunk I cried and whined like a some fucking little girl to him. HIM! WHAT THE FUCK!? I remember that I danced a bit during party and countdown - one dude offered me a shot but I declined. I hate drugs.

Yeah I hate drugs and what the fuck I did? I drunk to unconsciousness with a homemade moonshine that has like fucking 80%! I don't know how fast I got drunk or how much I drank but it had to be a LOT. From what others told me, when they tried to get me home, I cried like a toddler. WTF?! It's so embarassing.

I guess not all my tears have dried and withered away.

I'll be for another 2 days under observation in the hospital due to that stupid alcohol poisoning. The worst part came after my uncle left, worried as hell. Not only I felt super guilty but also I knew that my uncle is going to observe my behaviour when I'll leave hospital.

The worst part was a talk with him.

After awkward silence, he revealed that I confessed to him that I love him. He also confessed that he loves me the way I am. He said that he understands the reasoning that followed my cold attitude - when I was drunk I revealed the whole family situation. My mom is batshit insane, my dad and the rest of the family are dead. And that I'm living with my uncle.

I said out of habit that I'm sorry that. That I left him and cut off all ties with him when I left my aunt. I remember that I acted tough but ruining this blooming relationship caused a wound that I guess, never healed properly.

After another awkward silence, I noticed that he had tears in his eyes. He didn't sob, he just sat in silence, on the verge of crying.

He just said:

"There's no need to apologize. We were kids - you were a a terrified, grieving kid that was forced to grew up too fast. You might not love me but I'll always love you. Even if you changed so much since you were a kid. But I love you for who you are".

And I don't know what came to me but I replied quietly, blushing like hell:

"I love you too".

And then we kissed

Art link: https://www.peakpx.com/en/hd-wallpaper-desktop-obbkg

[mydiarynotes]

Me in The Sims 4 (My face and my room)

And my room:

[mydiarynotes]

22.12

Sunday, the last of this week and I'm pretty happy. No, scratch that I'm alright. In the morning I was in a bad mood due to nightmares - uncle went to his friends from college. I'm glad he goes somehwere, because he constantly works - day and night so we can live well. Anyways - I ate breakfast and filled with thoughts. I decided to see my "friends". They messaged me, today at 1.00 A.M If I want to get drunk. I refused, because I wanted to sleep.

Well, around midday I got a text from our group chat. They invited me to one of their flats as her parents doesn't give a shit. I was bored so I accepted the invitation. And I almost got drunk because I reminded myself when I had an argument with my uncle.

So I spent most of the party, covered in blankets and sitting on the rooftop. Every hour I had at least one thought to jump or not. I guess it was a bad idea to sit there. But I finished reading LIFE manga - one of my "friends" borrowed me volumes - I don't think it was a good idea to read it. At least during this time, as I dreamt of sliting my wrists. Crazy, right?

But not to die - no, I don't have a death wish.

Around those thoughts I spent most of the party. Then my old friend came back - we talked a bit. But the talk was getting directioned to my current issues - mental issues. He tried to get this out of me, but I didn't reveal anything to him. I changed and he also changed. He isn't this energetic and optimistic kid that wanted to make my happy, no now he's much more stagnant and calm.

He wanted to say something like "I'm sorry that I cut you off" but I wouldn't accept that apology. I know what I was during middle school years - cold and emotionless, without a hint of affection. My mimic was never changing during school.

That's how I got my nickname - The Ice Princess, a princess without a heart that looks down on people. Truth be told, I never looked down on anybody though I hated people more than anything. Lies, deception and guilt made my realise that I despise people and the one I despise the most is myself.

[mydiarynotes]

30.11

Well, you could say that I have pitifully short history of romantic relationships. My very first time took place in a sport equipment storage room during lunch break. I was 15, he was 16 and we did for fifteen minutes straight. Despite not having a condom nor a pill, I didn't get pregnant. It was a quick a hookup - though it wasn't pleasant, due to being a virgin - no, I wasn't forced to do that. In fact, I had sex a total of three times. The last one I had when I got drunk during a party, so there wasn't anything emotional.

My romantic relationships are a difficult topic - I was involved into three relationships. One with a girl (a short and turbulent relationship) that fell aprat just a week later - and I didn't enjoy it, so I'm definetly heterosexual. The other two fell because of me - we didn't match.

And now, I reunited with my best friend from middle school. He's stunnigly beautiful, many girls from my class whisper about him. There's no doubt that they want him. And me? I'm a class weirdo with a long history of familly issues, mental breakdowns and drinking habit of cheap wine in girls toilet. I don't want any of that.

Though his feelings feel genuine, I don' want another stab in the back. Just like my mom did. She threw me away, like a bunch of evening trash, when I lost use for her. She abandoned - her only daughter.

I sense that he wants to do it. I can see that in his eyes - I can do that but not yet. He has to get to know me - especially me change of personality, perspective. And my family issues If he wants to do it.

A slim that he doesn't betray me and then abandon me.