I realise now that I was both stupid and wrong.
I was stupid to think that I could handle roaccutane in yr12. I was stupid to think it wouldn't hurt me. I was stupid to think I wouldn't feel the pain. I was stupid to think I'd be able to ignore it. I was stupid to think that it wouldn't hurt my fragile sanity. I was even stupider yet to remain silent up until this point. And now for six weeks I have to suck it up and pretend its okay. Pretend I don't hurt as much as I do. That I'm not battling as hard as I am, that I don't think about cutting, that I don't cut, that I don't think about dying, that my thoughts don't invariably end in suicide, that I don't question my existence, that I don't feel outcasted, that I don't wonder who I am let alone who my friends are, that I'm going to be okay because I got this fucking far and as a consequence it'll be automatically assumed that I'll get a little bit further. That'll I'll survive because my 'pattern' is surviving.
I should feel better being away from school. But the truth is, school cut my two week break in half. And I haven't slept well in weeks. I haven't slept well and I'm sure its making everything worse than it actually is, but who is to know with me anyway because I'm fucking insane. I should be locked up for insanity. And I would be too if I did something. If I reached out. Took cutting too far. Attempted suicide. But because I remain in a state of either indecision or comatose, I don't do anything and no one cares. So what if I have nine days of classes left. That's nine days for things to go wrong. Then another nine days for me to fuck up study and a whole 20 days to pretend I can do exams.
Well I can't do this stuff.
I was wrong. I am wrong because I have overestimated my strength, my courage and my capacity to handle the constant curveballls my bullshit existence throws at me. I am a universal joke. I don't understand any purpose in any of this because I just hurt. I was wrong about roaccutane. I was so wrong. And I was wrong about me. And I was wrong about this year and I'm just wrong. I'm so very wrong.
And there's naught for it is there. Absolutely naught. Just plugging on for another day under the pretence that it's okay, that somebody cares, that there is a light at the end of this never ending tunnel, that the sun will shine and I'll be okay.
I'm tired of this blindness. I'm tired of the lies. I'm tired of the pain.
Maybe the sun isn't in this world.
- Sky
