Just keeps getting better...

So I'm  18 now. I wish this wasn't happening. Why do I deserve a birthday? I took that away from my own child, and the whole purpose of birthdays is to celebrate life, right?

Well, I don't want to celebrate something that I destroyed. I feel like I've been getting increasingly more depressed lately. I miss my baby. I wish I could change everything. August 14th...that's going to be a horrible day. The day my beautiful child should have been born. 

Less than a week after my birthday I got a tattoo. My parents still don't know about it. It's on my wrist. It's a picture of a baby laying down with an angel wing and a soft golden glow above it's head, and under it it says rip skylar. I love it.

Instead of cutting or doing anything else harmful to myself, I instead memorialized my child. Something I've wanted to do for a long time. 

I don't know how much longer I'm going to be able to keep this hidden from my parents. Probably another 7 days..... Remember when I broke my hand? Well, apparently I did more than just break a few bones when I hit that wall. I messed my shoulder up really badly. I tore my labrum and rotator cuff and who knows what else that they didn't find. I'm getting surgery for it on the 27th. I can't even complain because I did it to myself. My doctor was amazed at how much force must have been exerted in order to create that much damage...it's near impossible. I don't know how the hell I managed to do that. Seriously. 

So 6 surgeries since 10th grade. Hopefully I'll still be able to go to college in the fall. I guess it's karma though. I deserved it. I'm used to having surgery  on my legs...I know how to handle that. I know all the tricks on how to get around, shower, everything. 5surgeries will teach you that. 

But shoulder? That's completely new to me. I won't have any use of my entire arm for at LEAST 3 weeks. I'm scared, not gonna lie. It's going to be impossible to sleep, lay down, even move my neck. It's really going to suck. I sure as hell hope my parents are gonna be around to help me out...and I don't know what I'll do if I can't see my two best friends Sam and Jen. I need them. I'm so scared of this. 

I don't even have my brother. My parents just took him and all of his stuff to his new apartment in Virginia this morning. I couldn't go because there wasn't enough room in the car and I had to watch my dog. I miss him already. I wish he could be here to take care of me and protect me. I have no one without him. 

On the plus side...my sister is going away!!! She's leaving Sunday night. I couldn't be happier about that. Now she can't complain about me getting "attention" because of surgery or whatever. At least that's one less thing to worry about. Being stuck with her 24 7.  I'll just be alone. But it's better than having her here. She's going into the hospital for god knows what. Hopefully shell be gone a few months...

I'm going to start writing regularly again. Wish me luck with everything...things sure aren't getting any easier. 

Triggered once again

This weekend was really hard for me. I was triggered in every sense of the word. I had my baby cousins 1st and 4th birthday party to go to, and I spent a lot of time with the baby. There were kids everywhere and pregnant moms and I was so overwhelmed. 

When they sang Happy Birthday I lost it. That is something my baby will never hear. That hurt me a lot. 

My insomnia has been so bad lately. It caught up with me last night. I fell asleep at 5pm and woke up at 6:30am. I guess I really needed that. 

When I say I'm stressed and overwhelmed...I mean it's driving me to the point where I break down from it almost daily. I'm past my breaking point. 

I started burning. I don't know if it's better, worse, or the same as cutting, but I've done it a few times. I can't stop hurting myself. I haven't eaten in four days. Im in some serious trouble. I don't know how to be better. Help?

The real me

There are days when I can put on a happy face. 
There are moments where I can act like nothing is bothering me. 
There are times when I can pretend my anxiety isn't there, and everyone believes it but me. 
There are days when I eat literally nothing at all, but as far as everyone else is concerned, I did. 

Then there are the days when I just can't fake it. I can't pretend to smile for your sake. I can't put on a happy face and act like everything is fine. And I can't pretend that I don't think about it constantly. 

I can't always put on a happy face for other people. It's really hard. I literally do it more than half of the time, and it makes everything worse. I feel more isolated, more depressed, fake, and more unloved. Why can't I just be me?
  
Because let me tell you, the real me is not happy. And I just so wish that I didn't have to pretend all the time. Pretending is the same as lying and I hate lying. It makes me sad. I'm such a different person than the one that the world sees. I'm not sure if anybody knows the real me. 



Want to know the truth? I'm severely depressed. Most people know that. I have social anxiety disorder, but I try to pretend that doesn't exist. I've been suicidal for a while, but it's intensity varies. And right now? The intensity is off the charts high. Everyone else pretends that part of me doesn't exist. 
And home life? Horrible. Down right abusive depending on the day. 
If you want me to go there and be honest, I will. I mean, we are talking about the real me, right? So fine. I guess I'm anorexic and bulimic. I hate labels and I never wanted to turn into that. But I guess I have. I cut way too often. I drink a lot, I smoke a lot, but I never did a drug.

Until yesterday. For the first time ever, I smoked weed and got soo high. I didn't just smoke a little bit. It was a lot. I've never turned to drugs before. Ever. And it was something I was proud of. Like oh, well I'm incredibly fucked up but at least I've never done drugs. Can't say that now. 

That hurts. But nothing has ever hurt more than what I've been through in the past few months. The real me got pregnant. And forced 100% against my will to get an abortion. It haunts me every single day. It never leaves my mind. I don't forgive myself for it. And I deserve to feel all the pain. I will never forgive myself for letting everyone else have their way on something that only I should've had a choice in. 

All of the above and more is what makes me a fuck up. I don't deserve happiness. I don't deserve anything good at all. 

Most importantly, the real me wants help, but doesn't know how to get it.

See, not many people at all know the real me. But it seems like the ones who are the closest to knowing, do nothing at all to change it or help. So that's why I put on the happy face. So they don't have to deal with it. 

Well, fuck that. 

Good News Bad News

So, I've managed to stay out of trouble. Can't guarantee tomorrow though. I think my friend talked to my guidance counselor about me today. Honestly though...I hope she did. I need to be helped. I'm just so afraid of my parents. My mom showed me first hand what her reaction would be like. She started flipping out today over nothing..because I was upset and in a bad mood. And she got mad because "I have no right to be upset". Ok mom. I didn't just go through the worst possible thing ever. Whatever. 

I'm just so scared to make them angry or stressed or sad and that's why I haven't went out looking for help myself. Because I can't. Subconsciously I think I want my friend to tell my my counselor how screwed up I am because I can't get help for myself, and my school has to help if they knew how much of a wreck I really was. All it would take is one look at my arm and I'd get sent straight to inpatient. Thats how bad it is. I'm not sure if that would be good for me. I don't know if it will help me or cause more stress. I just don't know what the right thing to do is. I guess I'll just let everything play out and see how tomorrow goes. 

Wanna hear some good news?! 
I got a car today!!!!!! It's a 1996 Mercury Sable but it only has like 67,000 miles on it so it's not bad at all. Driving makes me nervous. I have soo much anxiety about it but I love the freedom. I just really need to work on being less scared. 

I don't know what today would have turned into if I didn't have the anticipation of driving my new car home. It was a really really bad day before that. I'm scared for tomorrow. 

I'm scared of myself. Things need to change...quickly. 

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. 

I'm not fine

My head is a fucking mess. I hate myself. I wish I was fucking dead. I can't deal with this. I can't cope. You have no idea how hard I'm being hit with all of the emotions from this. 

I'm so angry and guilty and hurt and I just hate myself. I'm so full of regret. I can't take it. I knew it would hit me this hard. I knew it from the very beginning.  Before anything even happened. I made a promise that if they made me kill my baby, I would kill myself. I can't deal with it. 

I told you I'm in over my head. I'm really in trouble. I'm so messed up over this. And nobody understands! Nobody. 

How can they expect me to be fine?! Why can't they talk to me about it and ask me questions and why can't they care? My parents? They haven't said one thing about it. Not before and not after. They made their demands, said if I didn't do what they wanted I would be thrown out, and haven't said anything since. My guidance counselor doesn't ask me about how I'm doing, my friends don't, nobody does. 

Everyone thinks I'm fine. They think I'm dealing with it. They think now that it's over, the emotions and feelings behind it must be over too. Wrong. Not even close. 

Want me to let you in on a secret? 

IM. NOT. OKAY. I'm sorry. I'm just so mad at myself and in so much pain from it. Every second of every day. It never leaves my mind. I just need somebody to care.

It hurts like crazy to talk about. It kills me. But the only thing worse than talking about it is holding it all in and pretending it never happened. Because it did happen. And I just feel so fucking betrayed. By everybody. By my friends and people at school, and most of all my parents. 

I have no one to lean on for support. No one to talk to or have care about me...I don't know how to get through this. I don't think I can. I don't want to hurt anymore. 

I think about all the what-if's constantly.  It hurts. Honesty...I'm at such a loss for how to handle all of this. I'm sorry if this sounds like I'm whining or being stupid. 

But unless you're in my shoes, you have no idea how bad it hurts. I mean...my baby was murdered. And worst of all, I did it. I didn't want to. I was forced to. But I could've made it work. 

I'm sorry. Just so fucking sorry...

Hautned

Every day feels like a nightmare. It feels like God is punishing me every single time I feel pain, both physical and mental. I'm punished a lot. I hate it. 

A girl my age in my school just had a baby today. A boy a year older than me died today. He overdosed on Opana. Both of those things should have been my fate. I'm so haunted by all of this. 

Last night I was so upset. I sat in my room listening to the song "Happy Birthday" by Flipsyde staring at my sonogram and hysterically crying. I'm so messed up about this. I know I need help. I'm not dealing with this well at all. I'm just hurting so bad..I can't deal with it. Everything is getting worse. I'm cutting soo much, starving myself, smoking, drinking...I feel like I've turned into a monster. 

I think I need someone to cling to. I really wish that could be Brian. But he doesn't want me anymore. Or if he does, he has a girlfriend so it doesn't matter. I just need someone to hold me or hug me and be there for me and make things better. 

I'm so haunted by all of this. I wish I wasn't alive anymore. I wish I wasn't hurting. I think I might be in over my head again, but I just don't know what to do about it. Please help me... :(

I miss him so much...

I miss him so much. I'm never going to be able to stop missing him. If I wanted to, I could've been in a relationship with 2 other guys by now. I could be hooking up with them. But I'm not. I can't. I can't stop thinking about him and his new girlfriend who I'm so jealous of, and it hurts so bad.

Every time I see them talk on Facebook or whatever I die a little more inside. I want to text him, or talk to him, or see him or anything.

At the end of the day,  it doesn't matter how bad he hurt me, or how bad I hurt him if I did hurt him, I just miss him and would do anything to have him again. I'd sell my soul. Well, whatever is left of it.

I just want to feel love, acceptance, and I want to feel like I'm good enough for someone. But I'm not. He was the only guy I have ever loved, and probably the only guy I will ever allow myself to love.

Who knows if he even still thinks about me. I wonder if I ever cross his mind, or if he ever thinks positively about me. I don't know. Probably not. Maybe it's just wishful thinking.

It hurts to know how he's doing things with this new girl that he used to do with me. It would be so much easier if she wasn't in the picture. It isn't about her. It's not a jealousy thing. If he was single I would've tried to talk to him a long time ago. But I don't want him to think I'm just trying to make things worse for him. I'm not. I want us both to be happy...together.

That's all I want. All I've ever wanted.

I wish he knew how sorry I was for everything that happened. Because I am. I hate myself for it every single day.

I'm not denying it that I handled it badly. I pushed him away so bad. I was so angry...but reasonably so. I was going through the most miserable time of my life and I pushed away the one person I needed the most.

I'm so fucking sorry. I'm sorry we got in that position, and that it ended so horribly and everything. I probably won't ever forgive myself for it. I know I never will.

It never ends!

It really never ends. So you know my scum bag exboyfriend? We broke up like a week ago. Ya know, after I went through the hardest and most traumatic time of my life for HIM, and he already has a new girlfriend. 

Um...Haha I wonder if she knows he got me pregnant. If she knows he FORCED me into an abortion. If she knows he cheated on me. If she knows how much drugs he does. If she knows how much he verbally bashed me every single day. You go girl, you're gettin a real winner!

I make it sound like a big joke, but it actually hurt like hell. Obviously he was cheating on me with her while all this was going on. He didn't even have the balls to tell me himself. I found out through Facebook. Good right? Whatever. Karma is a bitch and he'll get his eventually. 

I haven't been eating at all. I just haven't been hungry. My anxiety is like off the charts and I can't even breathe anymore. 

My fucking best friend moved to Florida yesterday. I went to her going away party and it was fun until I had to say goodbye. I'm no good at goodbyes. They always seem to mean more to me than other people. Like, it really is goodbye for me. I don't know. 

I've been smoking soo much lately too. I need to. Like, I just can't not smoke. I'm drinking this weekend too thank god. It's been wayyyy to long since I've had alcohol. I think about it everyday. How I just wish I was fucked up and drunk so I didn't have to think or feel. 

Wanna hear what else? I'm getting surgery. February 14th. Valentines day. I find that to be quite ironic and funny. 

The pain of any surgery is nothing compared to the pain I felt when I was with him. 

I'm just not thrilled to be getting surgery. Especially when I'm at this much of a downward spiral. It's just funny because I can't talk to anybody about any of this. No one understands. It's all too heavy for them and they don't know how to deal with it so, they just don't. Whatever...we will all see where this leads. They'll all figure it out sooner or later. 

This one's for you.

So you know have when you lose someone, you usually go through the 5 stages of grief? Well, I've been doing that. Switching back between insane anger and debilitating depression. Im only angry at one person. And you sure as hell know who you are. And if you're reading this, which I never wanted you to in the first place, this is for you. 

I hate you so much for everything you put me through. You don't have the right to be mad at me, and to say the things that you say to me. You think I used you our whole relationship. Well, that logic is severely flawed because I never got anything from you, so how could I use you. We never even went on dates. "Hanging out" was always having sex in the back of your car. I never wanted it. That's why I never wanted to hang out. I hated all the fucking pressure every time.  And yeah, we talked about it. But when I told you I wanted to hang out with no pressure, you never wanted to come around then. I'm not talking about recently. I'm talking about over the summer and our entire relationship before then. It was only after the party at your house that I actually wanted to have sex with you. Every other time I just agreed, to keep you around. 

But even that didn't work because you still cheated on me. And that hurt like you'll never know, because I always thought you'd be the guy to never cheat. To be honest with you, I still think there are more times than I know about that you cheated. And I'll probably never know. That's just something I'm going to have to accept. 

As I write this now, I'm wearing your sweatshirt. The one I had to ask you for. We had been together for a long time, and I wanted something of yours I could have when I couldn't be with you. I wanted you just to give me one. But I had to ask. I still wear it sometimes. And I still get a flood of memories every time I see it. 

I don't want to hate you. I don't want to resent you. I wish we never got in the position we put ourselves in. But more importantly, I wish we both handled it better. I wish you didn't say all the demeaning and hurtful things, I wish you didn't force me into what you forced me into, and I wish you weren't turning to what you're turning to now. I told you what would happen if I got an abortion. I don't know if you didn't listen, you didn't care, or you didn't believe me. But either way, it's not like you didn't know what it would do to me. You just didn't stick around to see the affect. 

I'm not trying to make you look like the bad guy. I'm just saying how I feel. And I know you don't believe it and you think I'm ignorant and don't know what I'm talking about, but I do. I loved you for 3 years of my life. Whether or not you believe that. This wasn't meant to hurt you. I hope you actually never read this. 

But writing on here is my only safe way of venting. There is a reason I didn't want people I know to read this or even know about it. But you found it and I can't control that. I'm over it. I don't want to hate you, but right now that feeling is clouding everything else. 

I gave up on life. I just don't think I'm strong enough anymore. 

Hate and regret

Okay. Here it is. On Wednesday I got an abortion. I did not want to. I was fighting it all the way. I had no choice. It was either that, or get thrown out of my house, have no support from the dad or my own family and be living on the streets with no insurance. I considered it. I considered making it work, seeing what I could do to change everyone's mind. I tried. Everyday I tried.

I told everyone what it would do to me if they made me go through with it. I told them very bluntly. I guess they didn't believe me.

This past week has been hell for me. I'll never be able to explain the pain I'm going through. So yeah, I planned my suicide. It surrounds my every thought. I couldn't function. I didn't want to anymore. I still don't. A huge part of me died on Wednesday. January 18th. A day I will never forget.

I gave up on my life. I stopped trying, I stopped caring. I stopped talking to everyone around me. I'm mad at everyone and I resent them so much for what they forced me into. I want to blame them. I didn't have a choice in what I did. It would have been different if I had made the choice on my own. But I didn't. It wasn't what I wanted.

If I could go back, well, I'd go back and not get pregnant. But I wouldn't have done what I did. I wouldn't have let push me into it.

Every day is misery. I can't stop crying, I can't stop being angry and upset and hating my life. Every day I think of how much I want to quit. I hate my parents for not supporting me. But I hate them more for thinking I'm supposed to be okay and happy right now. They think I'm upset because I'm trying to manipulate them into something. I'm not, obviously.

Sorry I'm upset. Sorry I can't put on a happy face anymore. I'm sorry I just can't do this. I'm trying to pull myself together...but it's hard to want to live when I'm this deep into my depression.

This is killing me

I spent the weekend with my cousins. It was such a nice relief. I got to play with my 3 year old and 8 month old cousins. I spent a lot of time talking to both of my cousins. My one cousin Amy is going to call planned parenthood for me tomorrow. She is going to take me there. Thank god I have at least one person who is there for me no matter what choice I make. It's funny, I say "choice" but I have no choice. If I have this baby, I'll be out living in the streets with no money and no shelter. My parents will throw me out, ill have no place to go and it'll be horrible. But I can't go through with anything else. I'm so scared. I'm being forced into what I'm most against of and it's killing me. 

Today is my two year anniversary with Brian. We barely talked all day. I resent him so much for all of this. I hate this situation so much, I can't even begin to tell you. 

Today I spent all day working out at the gym. That killed my legs. Then I puked a good 6 or 7 times because I had to eat pizza. I'm kind of glad I have school tomorrow just so I can get out of this stupid house. I'll probably end up cutting a lot tonight. I don't know. I'm so miserable and the only people who care about me live 2 hours away. 

I wish they could adopt me. I wish I could disappear. Please kill me. I can't do this...  

This is something I read online. I feel exactly the same way. 

Month One
Hi Mommy!
I am only 3/4 of an inch long, but I have all my organs.
I love the sound of your voice.
Every time I hear it, I wave my arms and legs.
The sound of your heart beat is my favorite lullaby.

Month Two
Mommy, today I learned how to suck my thumb!
If you could see me you could definitely tell that I am a baby.
I'm not big enough to survive outside my home though.
It is so nice and warm in here.

Month Three
You know what Mommy?
I'm a boy!!
I hope that makes you happy.
I always want you to be happy.
I don't like it when you cry.
You sound so sad.
It makes me sad too.
I cry with you even though you can't hear me.

Month Four
Mommy,
My hair is starting to grow.
It is very short and fine
but I will have a lot of it.
I spend a lot of my time exercising.
I can turn my head and curl my fingers and toes
and stretch my arms and legs.
I am becoming quite good at it too

Month Five
You went to the doctor today.
Mommy, he lied to you.
He said that I'm not a baby.
I am a baby Mommy, your baby!
I think and feel.
Mommy, what's abortion?

Month Six
I can hear that doctor again.
I don't like him.
He seems cold and heartless.
Something is intruding my home.
The doctor called it a needle.
Mommy what is it? It burns!
Please make him stop!
I can't get away from it!
Mommy! HELP me!

Month Seven
Mommy
I am okay.
I am in Jesus' arms.
He is holding me.
He told me about abortion.
Why didn't you want me Mommy?

Every Abortion Is Just:
One more heart that was stopped.
Two more eyes that will never see.
Two more hands that will never touch.
Two more legs that will never run.
One more mouth that will never speak.

And in case you're wondering, no, I didn't write that, but I would be honored to shake the author's hand.