I saw the counselor today. Finally. He's nice.
I cried in front of him though.
Told him some stuff. My hands were shaking really violently and when I opened my mouth nothing came out so I wrote it down.
It'll take a few days minimum to get a referral so I can see him regularly.
I don't know what more I'm gonna tell him. So far I've told him about self harm, but he seems to think that I'm just a lovely person with too much on her mind.
I'm not. I don't know what...

I hate the hospitals, i hate the pain, the shouting, the lying and answering questions...They don't listen to me anyway, i feel so trapped and useless...like i can't move with in my own life...
People always find a way to stop me and i feel patheic for letting that happen. It all hurts too much....

Cut, cut, cut, pills, pills, pills

Have placement today. Tired. Just spent the last ten minutes picking drops of dried blood off my arm. Cut 'DIE' into it last night. Still hurts. I hurt. Don't want to deal with this. So many nightmares. Keep dreaming that someone wants to get me. First time it was Voldemort, second time it was some bloke called Fred who had a sister called Stacey. Except he was black and his sister was white. Might sound funny but in both dreams these people wanted me dead. They were hunting me

...