Read if you want
I'm updating. I'm only going to start complaining, so you don't have to read it. But if you want, its under the cut.
It's a Friday and I'm home all alone. We have no school. My dad is at work. My mom left with my brothers. And I don't know what to do with my life anymore. I feel like I'm always presuring my friends to care more. Making them feel like they are the worst friends ever. But friends are just friends. And to all the friends I'll soon loose due to the fact I'm giving up on trying to work things out, I'll really miss you. You've been good to me. But there is only so much I can do. And I feel like I'm always complaining to you. I'm always sad. And your all so happy. I don't want to bring you down. I feel like I always am. I love you and I don't doubt you love me. I'm sure you do. And I'm sure you care. But... you've never ever ever been the problem. I'm the problem. Me and my damn emotions. My damn tears. My damn over sensivtivity. Its not terrible being me. I just like to make it out that way. My life doesn't suck. But I like to make it suck. I'm not sure why. I like the way people pity me. They tell me they love me when I'm sad. I'm addticted to attention. I love it when you cry and people hold you. I feel so safe. And when people tell me they love me and they care. It just feels so nice. But... I'm always so sad. I always feel so alone. And I never know why.
I remember I sat at the top of the steps one night. Bawling. My mother said to me "Why are you so angry? Your always so sad. Its like your mad at the world. Why, Jessica?" And I cried to her. I told her I didn't know. And I told her it scared me. She said it scared her too. She had tears in her eyes, but she wouldn't let me make her cry. But I scared her. I used to think it was because I thought I was fat. Or I would never have a boyfriend. Or my friends hated me. But thats not it. That was never it. I don't know what it is. I guess its just me. I guess I just hurt myself. I make myself cry. I'm not a good person. I'm a sinner. I'm just mean. I'm so narrow minded.
I guess I'm just different than I thought. I guess you could say I'm changing. But its more, I just never knew who I was. And I still don't. But I know who I'm not.
I think I need help. I'm not like dangerous. I'm not crazy. But I need help. I need some one to help me sort everything out. Help me figure things out. I'm tired. I can't sleep at night. And I have so much to be happy for but I'm not. I'm not happy. I'm not always sad. I'm not always mad. But I think its unnaturual to feel the way I do. And I don't want to grow up feeling so down.
I really wish some one were here right now. Some one who would hold me. And let me cry on them. I'm so tired. I'm so dependant.
And sometimes. I do hear voices. They don't tell me to do things. But I hear people call my name. And the voices are so familiar. As if they were my own. My own voice calling me. "Jessica!" As if I were in pain. And I'm the one who has to help myself.
I like to run from my problem. Hide them in corner until they all pile up. And come crashing down on me.
I'll be on my couch under a blanket. I'm tired. I just need to rest. Silently cry.
Call if you want.
I might not answer. I might. It depends if I want the rining to stop...
Sorry..