I am seventeen years old. I will be eighteen on June 3rd so in about nine days. At eighteen years old, I will have as much freedom as I did at like, twelve.

My dad is 63 and will be 64 at the end of August, and my mom is 61 and will be 62 at the end of June. That means they were born in 1950 and 1952, and had me in their mid forties pretty much.

You can see where the problem comes in. Unlike children who were born when their parents were young, there is a HUGEHUGEHUGE...

I realize I don't want to be.
Or feel.
Or do anything at all.

Part of me doesn't want to go to college.
Or get a job.
Or drive.

I wish I had the heart to push people away.
But I still do care about them.
Just not in the right ways.
And far from enough.

Too many things are coming to an end.
And way too many are beginning.

I'm tired.
I wish I could lay in my bed for the rest of...

I wonder what it takes to qualify as "unstable" or a danger to yourself. I don't even think I want to get better.

I hate when you make a decision then realize the decision is bad and then you feel like shit. I should have finished the AP exam because now I feel guilty and worthless and like a failure for walking out and I've cried so much over this that I'm so exhausted now. I was crying so hard I was gagging. But even if I stayed I would have felt bad. I wasn't understanding...

I got a new blade. Again. My friend sent me this one. Cut today for no particular reason except to try it out. This one works the best out of all of them. But it's still not enough. It still won't give me the satisfaction I want since I can't slice myself whenever I want. Now that summer's coming I have to be even more careful but everyone will find out at my birthday or graduation party anyway.

I can't stay happy for long right now anyway. I can be all happy and excited but it's...