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Journal bluefairee's Journal: aaarrrrrgggggg!!!!!!!!!!!! 5

i'm sooooooooo angry, frustrated, and just plain put out right now!

i wasn't going to journal because i didn't want to. i want to run away, but the only place to run to right now is my mom's and i KNOW that is a horrible idea.

life is sucking soooooo badly right now. i wish dave had never called the police. then all of this bullshit wouldn't be happening to me right now. i was the 'doc' today. what a fucking joy that was. not only is he a resident, but he didn't even have an office. we were stuck in some closet/storage looking room. oh, did i mention he was 30min. late to my appt.! i hate this. giving the same damn information to every fucking person i have to see. why can't they just fax the info. and stop wasting my time!

i hate my meds. last night i tried with every ounce of me to convince dave and tl that they should give me ALL of my meds. it took about an hour. obviously i lost. even if i tried i couldn't take both of them down.

i did find a new hobby a few days ago. some of you might have heard of cutting? i'd never done it before, only heard about it. while they were at lunch i was supposed to be taking a nap and i couldn't stop wondering what it would be like. next thing i know i'm standing in the kitchen with a bloody arm and a knife in my hand. that was an 'accident'. yesterday wasn't. both of my arms are looking pretty sad right now. they don't hurt, but it is an ugly sight. one arm i did while they were at lunch with jondiii. the other while the 3 of them were in the livingroom chatting. part of me wants to do it again, but i won't. at least not for now.

everyday is a constant fight with myself to take my meds, 'behave', and stay alive. i don't want to live. if i did i wouln't have tried to kill myself 3 weeks ago! dave keeps saying me meds aren't working. i say fine, then don't make me take them. that doesn't work either. the 'doc' today said i have to make it another week at least before they even think about changing them! a whole nother fucking week!!! these assholes don't know how hard it is for me to make it for the next 5 minutes! what the hell am i gonna do with myself? or to myself. i've been strong a long time and now it seems all my stregth to fight for life is gone. any little bit of giving a shit has left the building.

tonight was another great fight with good ole dubious. he was chatting with this chick on line he wants to meet and when he was describing who he'd be with, tl was called a guy and i was called a black girl. i saw that and all hell broke loose. how dare he describe me in that way! he didn't say tl was a white guy and i couldn't have just been a girl, i had to be a black girl.

my whole life has been a constant fight to just be. black people typically don't like me because i'm too white and white poeple keep their distance because i'm black. my own family actually dubbed me the white sheep in the family when i was a kid. i grew up with a constant on slaught from my mother because she thought i wanted to be white soooo much that some how i magically forgot i was black.

WTF!!! i look at the same damn dark skin face every fucking morning, noon, and night! i get followed in stores. i live with it all the time because i'm so different. she raised me in all white neighborhoods, send me to all white school, and all white churches. what the hell did she think i was going to turn out like!? every fucking day for 30 years i fear that some fucktard is going to decide to have a little "fun" with this black bitch. or any number of other things that happen, liked being called a nigger in the upper class part of austin...of AUSTIN FOR PEETS SAKE! then i read that bullshit. i know he didn't know. he didn't have a clue. why should or would he. well, let me tell ya he knows now. and i'm pretty damed sure he won't forget it.

they are at the movies not with this girl and she's probrably wondering what happened to the little black girl! aaaaaaaaaaaarrrrrrrrrrrggggggggggggg!

i hate this life! HATE HATE HATE HATE HATE IT!!!!!

so now am i not only one of the reasons he doesn't go out as much, the little black girl, but i'm also making his life miserable. he's a liar. i don't think he can take this. one week has pretty much kicked his ass, and i'm supposed to live here for god knows how long.

i am sooooo fucking close to leaving here and leaving a note for him telling him he doesn't have to worry about this little black bitch anymore because i went ahead and took his advice and jumped off the cliff at mount bennell. it's at least a 50ft drop to a sure death. i was sooo angry with him last night for not giving me all my pills i told him i wouln't take my 9pm meds. if i don't take them i don't go to sleep, but he will. since i've found my tolerance for pain is pretty high from the cutting i told him, i'd cut all night and he's wake to a house covered in blood and i'd still win, cause i'd be dead anyways.

what the hell has happened to me?! why am i like i know. it runs in the family. i wanted out when i did because my life was so good at that point. EVERYONE, EVERYONE on my mothers side has a serious mental illness and none of them lead anything close to what i consider a life. i wanted out before i cracked too. thanks to this monkey i'm still here and falling apart all over the place. the odds are i won't make it. everyone keeps telling me there is a chance, but some beleive that there is a chance pigs will fly too.

i can't do this anymore...i can't, i can't, i can't. i don't want to. i'm soooo damned tired. sooooooooooo tired. i'm tired of fighting to not kill myself, to take my meds, to not harm myself, to control my mood swings, to not fight with dave, to everything. i'm just tired of living. i'm tired of breathing,. i'm tired of hoping. i'm just tired and i want to be done with it. just be done. no more tears, no more pain, no more ugliness. just nothing. sweet blissful nothing.

don't anyone get you undies in a bunch. tonight i'll take my meds, probrably a little early so i can get knocked out early and end the pathetic excuse for a day. i'll be around. for a little while longer at least.

bad sad blue

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  • of that Soul Coughing song "White Girl". Written in response to the fact that when the local paper would write about a white girl they would refer to her as "girl" while qualifying a black girl as "black girl". So they wrote a song about some random white chick.

    Of course the song really doesn't say much (like any SC song did) but its a catchy little diddy. Look away and she's eastbound, out of sight.
  • by ryanr ( 30917 ) *
    I hope this doesn't come across as a sick attempt at humor, it's not. I swear.

    Do you listen to Punk ever? Despite what probably looks like I'm trying to make a play on words, your post reminds me quite a bit of the song "Institutionalized", by Suicidal Tendencies. I wonder if you'd like it.

    Want me to find an MP3 of it for you?
  • when i'm upset it helps me to try to just keep breathing. i try to clear everything out of my mind and just think about the breathing. then i try to relax. i start with my torso and relax out to my arms legs, neck, hands and feet. like concentric waves of calm emanating from from my heart. when i get out to my fingertips and toes, i go back to the torso and start over again. usually it takes a few passes before i'm not tense when i start over again at my center. then i keep breathing. i just think a
  • My sisters Toni and Vicki both married black men while they were in the service, over in Germany. Strange how it happened exactly the same way for both of them. Both of them had two children. Both got divorced. One of them - Toni, it wasn't the race issue, it was just they didn't get along. Her ex-husband is a pretty nice guy. He doesn't come around much anymore but he used to, and we had a good time drinking when he did. I suspect with Vicki it was the race thing.

    The oldest of Toni's children, Jess
  • cutting frankly works, this is why ppl do it. i have been with so many girls with large scars covering most of their coverable flesh. i have never done this myself, i always preferred burning. there is a reason why it is frowned upon though...

    when the cut heals and the physical pain is gone, you are stuck with you, and your emotional pain remains. self destruction is a full time job. this i know, i have done it. but one of these days you will just stop whereever you are and realize it is over. the p

In seeking the unattainable, simplicity only gets in the way. -- Epigrams in Programming, ACM SIGPLAN Sept. 1982