Vacation, Vacation

On vacation with the parents—not a bad deal if only looking at the bright side: Getting around for free, drinking and dining for free, seeing some of the most beautiful spots of the U.S.
The downside to it: Being crammed in one vehicle all the time, not having space/time for myself, always having to hide my thoughts, feelings, needs, being forced to eat, etc.
Last night and all throughout the day I thought about hurting myself, ways to do it that wouldn’t be too obvious. Biting my arms, scratching my thighs, things like that. I am ashamed and I feel like a pressure cooker ready to explode. Or at least on the way to the explosion. There’s no one to talk to, no one to call, no one to be there or even to write to. So this is my outlet. Blogging. It shouldn’t have to be I guess but for the time being it is the only outlet I have. My “friends” left me after the debacle with Bipolar and I am too far away from all of them anyway by now.
Given all of that and the fact that I am physically and mentally exhausted from the semester, the roller coaster ride of the last months and the effort to hold it all together – I couldn’t be in a worse place right now. But I haven’t cut, I haven’t hurt myself. Yet. I am thinking about it, even thinking about ways to commit suicide again. Not because *now* would be a time for me to desperate to do it but because I want to be prepared. I want to know what I can do, how to do it, where to do it & all that. And with so much time on my hands my mind does what it can to keep me occupied and NOT hurting myself. It’s all mind-games I guess.

Alas… last night I pictured the pain within me being turned outside through the tingling of my skin and the pain then being scraped off with a cheese grater — sounds freaky to others but it adequately depicts what the reason for my cutting is.  I want to take the pain away, cut it out of me. No pain…. having to keep so much inside makes me hurt so much that I want to scrape it away. I wonder if anyone ever understands it? Am I too much of a freak for people to be friends and stay friends with me? And I actually miss those people who have left me although I should probably not even think about them. I bow down before them, in my mind, hoping that they will one day reconsider.

Wearin’ thin

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