What if?

What if I was stronger?
What if it had happened after I met all the new people in my life. Could that have helped me? Offered me other solutions?
What if my parents cared?
What if I wasn't suppose to have surgery? 
What if it was a different guy?
What if he wanted the same thing I wanted?
What if I had at least one parent on my side?
What if I listened to myself and not anybody else?

Those are some of the thoughts that harass me every day and never subside. It's horrible. Today wasn't good. My teacher made me go see my guidance counselor because I think she's starting to see just how fucked up I am. Then I had to sit in TOR (the time out room) for the rest of the day because I don't think they trusted me in class. I don't know why. Whatever. My guidance counselor asked me of I wanted to go see the social worker or psychologist in school and I said no because it was too close to the end of the day and I didn't want to get in trouble with my stupid parents again. They might pull me out of class tomorrow though I think because my teacher talked to my guidance counselor about me after I talked to her. No good. I completely quit in school. I'm too overwhelmed. I guess that's what set a red flag up for my teacher. Yeah. Cause there weren't a million other warning signs before that. 

I might be getting in "trouble" tomorrow. The kind of "trouble" I always get into. Where my guidance counselor and school social worker and psychologist get too much out of me and they send me to the hospital. It's happened like...4 times this year. Fuck that. They never keep me anyway. Last time this happened I begged for them to let me go inpatient and they still didn't. 
 
My parents will kill me. Last time this happened I got taken by cop car because my parents wouldn't do it and my school knew I needed to go. Still didn't work. I want to go inpatient. I know I need to. Let's get real. 

This brings up another question. What if when they pull me out of class tomorrow, I open up? I tell them exactly how I'm doing. Which is suicidal and miserable. They will undoubtably send me to the hospital. But my parents will flip out on me. It's so unfair that I can't get help because I'm scared of my parents reactions. 

I'm scared. Terrified even. I hate hospitals and the thought of being in them, and I'm scared of living. Living is scarier than dying is. That in itself is a scary thought. I don't know what to do. I just want to be better. I don't want to die. Well, I wish I didn't want to die. 

I'm supposed to go a party on Friday night with my friend. Who the hell knows what I'll even do if I get that far in the week without anything happening. I just don't know.