I can't tell if not caring is a GOOD thing or a BAD thing. Maybe a bit of both.

Good, I guess, is that normally in gym I'd be so embarrassed by how sucky I am at everything, but right now I could care less.

But I could care less about grades or anything either. I left a good portion of my science test blank because I just didn't even want to try to find the right answers because it was hard. Don't care if I fail anyway because she lets us retake. Making minimal to no...

My therapist set up the meeting with my mom today. She didn't go into any details with my mom about what's going to be talked about, but she's going to suggest I am sent for an evaluation and possibly medication. I'm all for the idea, but my mom won't be.

I'm scared, so scared of what's going to come of this. She's going to act all calm to J and then flip out at me. She won't even consider getting me evaluated. What if she wants to check me for new cuts again (J isn't mentioning the...

Too bad I don't have the guts to actually kill myself.

If someone could tell me, though, why the past week or more have been a struggle and fix it for me, I'd appreciate it.

I'm back at a time where I tell myself I'm tired of being a failure, tired of feeling worthless, tired of trying. I'm back at a time where I tell myself that I still have some time to kill myself before my niece will remember me. She's only 9 months old. I'll say if I kill myself at a time when...

I'm so sad that my sister was looking through my phone one day. I got paranoid and deleted the pictures I took of the cuts on my thighs. They were fresh. Bloody. New. And I needed to remember what was there since I can never ever cut there again now that my mom is going to be seeing my thighs Wednesay. I wish I didn't delete those pictures because now they're fading and that's sad to me. I liked just staring at it. I wish I could cut there some more. And my arms and everywhere. Is it so bad that...

I had a mental breakdown last night.

I cut myself a little bit and really wanted to do it a lot more. I wanted to see the blood and do what I had to to release the anxiety and that heavy feeling on my heart. I only did a little bit but knew I had to refrain before I got myself into trouble with my parents.

So what do I do? I call a hotline. The self harm hotline was closed so I called the suicide hotline because well, I was in danger of cutting too much or too deep...

I try coming out to my mom today. Know what she says? Pretty much stuff along the lines of: "Who's a lesbian making you want to be one? You want to be everything you read. Start thinking with your own mind for once, if you think you're a lesbian you really do have problems."
I KNEW she was going to say that, I just KNEW that. Everything is a game to her, my self harm, suicidal thoughts. You know what? I don't fucking KNOW why I feel so bad all the time, I really DON'T. And by...

While sitting there talking to people feeling fine I end up cutting.
I'm so stupid. It's on the wrist this time. At least if I'm gone for a while you know why.

I'm so fucked up. Get that sad scared feeling in my heart out of nowhere. Cut out of nowhere. Tired out of nowhere. No motivation out of nowhere.

Sick with a cold right now. The fuck's wrong with me?