Misery

Dropped 3 more pounds. Only 10 to go until my target weight. Yay. 

So I'm really excited to get surgery again for the 5th time. Only 8 more days! It should be great. I'll get to spend lots of time with my family, and maybe my sister and I will finally bond! 

Hahahahahahah if only you could hear the extent of the sarcasm in my voice. I'm dreading it. I didn't even think I would be alive for it. But hey, I got a whole 8 more days. Anything can happen right? School was miserable today. I hate how no matter what I do, say, or think, my cries for help are always ignored. 

I want my guidance counselor to pull me out of class and ask me what the hell is wrong. I want my friends to care. I want anybody to notice. To ask me why I haven't eaten in 3 days. I've literally only consumed water and coffee, and if I was forced to eat, it didn't stay down. 

I want someone to care so bad. I can't stop feeling so alone and desperate and it hurts so bad. I'm treated badly and abused in every single aspect of my life and I just want ONE safe place. One safe person. Anything at all. I can't do this anymore. 

I can't continue to hurt like this and do nothing about it. And once again, surgery stands in my way. If I didn't have to get surgery, I would honestly consider going into school with a huge slice across my wrist. Make visible the pain I feel everyday. But I can't. 

Every day I think about how I'm going to kill myself, when, where, every little detail. I think about who would care. No one would. But it's fine. 

I'm over it. If you think people not caring affects me anymore you're wrong. I'm numb to it. No one has or ever will be there for me and I've accepted it. 

If I can't be appreciated, I at least hope to be remembered.