saitaina | *bangs head on table*

Originally published at Memoirs of a Nobody. You can comment here or there.

This is not going to fucking work. I don’t see why no one sees this but me but three more months of this crap? I’m going to fucking slit my wrists.

Tonight was a lovely night full of hell, all courtesy of my best friend. Not only was I dragged around while sick and unable to walk upright due to back pain, but I was forced to endure an evening of her sniping at me for jokingly poking her and telling “Nana” (a toddler we both know) to lick Robyn when Robyn’s grabbed her for kisses (goddess it was a fucking joke and she turns around and tells me “I’m not her boss” or some other shit).

The oh so fun clincher was I asked her several times if I could borrow the power cord so I could use Ray’s laptop to vent here (well, didn’t tell her I was venting but still), with no awnser. Finally, four am rolls around, I’m trying to figure out how I can write this (so that I can get rid of all the pain and general crappy feeling I’ve got going on inside me) and still be able to relax enough to sleep…when she throws a tissy because I asked one last time (before just giving up and going to bed) making me feel like even more shit and now I’m pretty damn sure she’s up there, storming around and yelling at him about me wanting to use the bloody cord. Excuse me for wanting an emotional release so I don’t end up with fucking nightmares like I usually do when I go to bed feeling crappy.

I really, REALLY don’t see how I can stand three more monthes of this, three more monthes of feeling like this (and listening to her snide little comments)…but I don’t have a fucking choice anymore. I’m twenty-three years old for crying out loud, I shouldn’t have to stay somewhere I’m uncomfortable, and feel unwelcome.

I’ve never liked being trapped somewhere, I hated it all my life when I was shuffled from one place to another to live. And now, once more, only this time as an adult, when it shouldnt’ be happening, I’m fucking trapped again. I can’t stand this, I really fucking can’t stand this.

I want nothing more, then to be in MY home, with MY computer, and MY fucking life, not somewhere where I’m forced to go out everyday, weather I want to or not. Not somewhere where the slightest thing I do, I feel as if someone’s glaring at me. I can’t even be on a fucking computer, which hello, is my lifeline, without getting shit.

I’m crying as I write this and I hate feeling like this. I hate the fact that I’m giving in to emotions when I’ve worked very hard not to.

I keep looking at that line above about slitting my wrists…and you know what…it’s really not sounding too bad right now. And I’m not fucking kidding.

I’m so far down right now that I keep eyeing my bottle of IBproffin and just…imagining that bottle empty (take a wild guess where the pills are). And the scary thought is…it’s not just an absent day dream. I’m getting closer and closer to doing it every fucking time I look at it. I can see the pills in my hand, nearly taste the texture of them in my mouth. Would be rather nice…to just swallow them and have all the fucking pain, anger, heartache, loss…all of it just go away. I would do anything, to have it all go away.