Sometimes the only thing that makes sense to me is that I close my eyes and speak to He who loved me first.
fma
Sundrip Journals
Sometimes the only thing that makes sense to me is that I close my eyes and speak to He who loved me first.
fma
All I have to do is get under the covers and go to sleep but I keep fighting it.
I don’t remember what happened in therapy last Wednesday but I do remember vomiting. I hate that. I really do.
My fuse is short anymore.
Words like hate and slash run through my head.
On one hand I’m afraid to die but on the other hand I think I won’t be terribly upset if I’m hit by a train or something. I nearly welcome it. When I’m like this I don’t drive much.
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