[wednesday 19] thought i'd never be writing on here again, but, uh. journaling on paper doesn't work. and i'm bored. and tired. so here i am. still in highschool. not a freshman anymore. a kid in my school committed suicide. didn't know him. sucks that it happened, though, cause it's like. i get the pain, i guess. been in that spot before. i hope wherever he is, he's found peace now. -harlan
[monday 24] I feel ill.
Sickness. It’s waking up in the morning and still being so, so tired. A heaviness in the mind that hangs over me no matter what. I can’t sleep. I can’t stay awake. I constantly linger in the grey, the liminal of exhaustion.
Do I want to die? Not really. But it sounds appealing. Sounds peaceful. I imagine it’s a bit like the absence of a headache. Being able to breathe without struggle. I wish I could say I earned that kind of rest.
I wonder if I hate myself. I don’t particularly feel that strongly either way. But when I look at myself in the mirror, I see someone that isn't me. I see a body that is… functional enough, but becomes disgusting once in context of who it belongs to. It’s wrong. Maybe I’m dysphoric. Maybe I’m dysmorphic. Maybe both. I like to think I’m special. Does it make me "especially" good or bad?
I feel the intense desire to peel myself open. Rip out whatever is rotten inside. This feels like a thought I've had before. This feels like a hole I've fallen into once in my life. I feel like I'm forgetting something. I'm fine. Aren't I? I'm handling it all great. I'm barely upset my grandmother died. I guess maybe that's a bad thing. People keep dying. Too quickly. When is it my turn? When will it be their turn? I'm scared the people who I need will disappear. -Amira