on the inside

[prismaticbleed]

Damn it, damn it damn it damn it damn it.

What the heck is this? Does my mother hate me? Why the heck does she seem to love tormenting me so?

I don't know. Dear God, I don't know anymore, and I'm literally crying.
I swear, I almost never cry. I don't waste my tears on petty things.
This only happens when I've been torn to bloody shreds on the inside.

Damn it.

She hit me. She actually picked up one of my schoolbooks and beat me.
It came out of nowhere, really. You know I'm a pain addict (unfortunately), so that threw me into a sort of mini-shock because I'm only used to Laurie doing that with a sharp object instead of a blunt one.
But yeah. It didn't register because my mind was thinking "wow, actual physical pain for once. This is odd" and not why it was happening.
Eh... I don't know. It kept me from exploding, though, and I thank God for that. All that pain and distraction? Kept me sane for a little longer. Guess I should thank her, but then she wouldn't hit me again, haha.
God help me, I don't know what the heck is wrong with me.


I've had this Sonic music remix (Marble Garden) blasting in my ears for almost two hours now... it makes me think of Chaos Zero for some reason (typical me) so it keeps me from getting too upset.
I told you, music helps when I need to disconnect my mind and plug it in somewhere else.


I'm scared about college.
I'm scared because my mother keeps telling me that they're going to kick me out because 1) I'm mentally ill by her definition, 2) I'm allegedly going to fail every single one of my classes, and 3) I have serious antisocial problems due to my sexual orientation and mental strangeness.
Yeah. That and she's been threatening to throw me out of the house since I was a child. I am not lying to you. She's come close. She's thrown my belongings into suitcases and thrown the suitcases out on the porch before.
I was frequently traumatized as a kid thanks to things like that.
Now, I just take them and give them to Laurie. She lives on pain because I can't.

...
I wish I could just turn off this laptop, forget about my pain meds and surgery and homework and work schedule and college classes and dysfunctional family and everything... I wish I could just disconnect from all of it, all of it, and then just go outside, sit out under the stars, and sob my heart out.
Dear God, this hurts like you wouldn't believe.
I'm so sorry. I am so horribly sorry.

I've done some horrible things.
I've been doing better lately, but it's never good enough for the people I'm trying to placate.
I make at least one huge mistake every day now.
People still love me, dear God, why can't they see and if they do then why do they act as if it doesn't matter?
It matters, it matters, it matters so much and I just wish it wasn't there for me to worry about.
I wish I could be better.
I wish I could live up to these expectations and positive assumptions.
I wish I could be the sort of daughter my mother wanted.
I wish I could be the sort of perfect girl Q thinks I am.
I wish I could be the person I am on the inside.


Maybe this is why I love Chaos Zero so much. He's just as big a screw-up as I am.
We've both made so many huge mistakes in our lives and we're both dying on the inside on a daily basis because of them.
And no matter what, we can't seem to let anyone else realize that.
No one else realizes how much pain we're suffering because of our own choices.
Everyone looks past that and focuses on either 'how good we are regardless of our sins' or 'how horrible we are regardless of our guilt'.

Please, God, I just need someone here, on this crazy stupid planet, to look at me and realize that yes, I have made many, many horrible mistakes, and yes, I am sorry beyond my own power to comprehend... but I don't want them to hate me for it.
Can anyone do that?
Days like this... nights like this, the contrition is almost too much for me to bear.
No one seems to see.
No one here.

My eyes are on fire. I want to cry but I can't. My mother will just call me a childish bitch and start berating me on how that's not going to help my grades or my mental health or anything.
She can't see.
Sometimes... the tears work just like the pain.
It helps me to let go.

It seems that only that blue monster in my head understands, because he's living this same hell.

Why does no one here want to hear me cry?
Why does no one here want to listen when I need to talk?
Why does no one here want to care when I open my heart to them?
Why does no one here want to see what's wrong with me?

Why is there so much that is wrong with me?


God, I am so sorry.
Damnation is still my biggest fear.
I don't know if I'm doing enough to prevent it.
People say I am.
People say I'm not.
I don't know.
It just never feels good enough... but then again, I'm infamous for my ludicrously cruel guilt trips.



I don't know.

Right now...
All I know is that I want forgiveness
and a second chance.



Can someone please give me a chance?




Does anyone understand?




Does anyone truly care?




Or will this all stay on the inside until the day I die?