Pain

Have you ever felt like the only way to feel something, feel pain? When I look in the mirror, I don’t see what everyone else says. I see a girl, with a crooked smile, eyes too far apart, I don’t see what they see. She’s overweight, she has stretch marks all over her body but she hides it with oversized clothes, her hair is uneven and it’s damaged, and her arms are covered with scars. I see a girl with a chin like Peter griffin, I see a girl with a heartbreak on her shoulder. I see a girl who doesn’t even like looking at herself in the mornings because she’s scared, she’s scared that she’s going to hate herself all over again. I see a girl who would rather see a model in the mirror than see the person that she is. She wishes that she can stop the pain she wishes that she could just breathe. But breathing is so hard, breathing feels more like a chore than a necessity. And if she could stop breathing she would, she tries every day to hold her breath until her lungs explode. But they never do, she can only hold it for a certain amount of time and then she’s forced to let go. And letting go is hard. If you couldn’t tell I’m not talking about breathing anymore I’m talking about the pain of letting go. Because letting go is the hardest thing that I have ever had to do. Letting go of the past is by far the hardest thing, because the past is what made me who I am. But the future is who I wanna be, and if I want to be the future then I have to let go of the past. I have to let go of the people who hurt me, and the people who made me feel like I’m not worth anything that I have. I went through hell and back, I survived. I got through it, but I live with survivor's guilt. I’d cut open my skin and watch myself bleed. I'd let the blood drip, because that’s what I wanted. Because rather than feel the pain in my heart, I let the pain go to other places. And for that I have scars, I have mental scars, I have physical scars, I have scars everywhere. I have PTSD, which is scary and you may think I’m mentally insane, but I’m not I swear. I’m a broken girl and a broken world. I’m a record that’s scratched and repeats the verse over and over until you move it. I’m the girl who has everything, yet nothing at all. I’m not rich nor am I poor. But money means nothing if I’m not happy, I wish I could be happier. I wish I could wake up and smile not at someone’s texts but the fact that I’m alive. And life gets harder and harder every day, and everyone tells me “just drink water and breathe”. How is water and breathing going to help my situation? Is it gonna make me better? Is water and breathing going to keep me alive from my own brain, because it doesn’t seem like it. Water can’t fix the damage that is in my brain and in my heart, and breathing isn’t going to solve my issues, it makes it worse. I wish that I couldn’t breathe, I wish I was on a ventilator or in a coma fighting for my life. Because if I was in a coma I could tell myself to give up, and for that that’s all I wish for. I told my best friend that I wanna die, and he told me no don’t leave me. But Suicide seems like the only option sometimes , and you don’t understand how badly I’ve debated it. I held the knife in my hands, I put it to my chest. I’ve held it with pressure, and I have looked at myself in the mirror holding it, and debated whether or not I wanna leave everyone. But what will that help? What if people actually miss me? Ha, what a funny joke. If everyone was going to miss me, then they would treat me like they love me right now. Because nobody loves me. Nobody wants me, and the man that I love would rather go after a 15 year old than love me. And I tell him that it doesn’t hurt, but it does. It stings and I wish I never loved him. Because he’s the reason I wanna die. He is. The reason. I want to die. But I can’t blame him. I’m unlovable. Yet people claim they’ve fallen in love with me. If you loved me you wouldn’t hurt me. You can’t fix me, I am not a broken record. You can’t move something and automatically I’ll play for you. Because it doesn’t work like that, I have relied on others to fix me all my life, but it doesn’t work like that. And as much as I wish it did, it doesn’t. The only person who can fix me is myself. Or at least that’s what I’m told. He was fixing me though. He built my heart up only to rip it down. He loved me, maybe it was an act, maybe it wasn’t who knows? But I’d like to think he loves me. And I’m stupid for it because he makes me wanna die. But being with him makes me feel alive too. I wish she would just leave good and get out of my head. I wish. That was my birthday wish. Finally leave me, and leave me alone. Maybe I could fix myself and he was gone. I can’t if he’s gone. Every time he leaves he takes a part of me. I’m almost gone. He’s taken every, every part of my soul. And then when he tells me I belong to him it hurts. Because I wish that I bought it to him, but his heart doesn’t belong to me. So what’s the use of loving someone? I can’t love them anymore, I can’t do it to myself. He rips me up and said he makes me hate everything. I have to set myself free if he won’t do it. So I guess this is me telling my songs that I need to set myself free. Maybe find another person to love me, and rely on them with my life and then when they leave be broken again? What a great plan Lilly. What a great plan! Such a wonderful plan, so that you can be fucked up all over again. I deserve pain. I deserve heartbreak. I deserve to be unloved. Because that is all I will ever be. In pain, broken, unloved, never loved by anyone ever again. Because that’s what I deserve. Because that’s all I’ve been told over deserve. I embrace the pain, because that’s what I do. I let the pain overtake me, because it’s better than feeling what’s in my heart and my mind, so if my arms bleed that’s my coping skill. Until all the blood is out of my body, I will never stop. Until the pain of my heart and my mind is gone, I will never stop. I will keep doing it until the blood is drained from my body, or until all of this stops. The blood will drip, drip, drip, drip, drip, drop. It will drip and drop until the moment that I die. Because I know that this pain in my heart and mine will never cease to exist, so until the blood is out of my body I will never be happy. I’m sorry mom. I’m sorry Dad. I’m sorry Chris. I’m sorry everyone. But mostly, I’m sorry Lily. I know you were me and I am you, and I’m sorry that we could never love ourselves. You’re wonderful, but you weren’t necessary to the world. So, die. Die in your sleep, die in the morning, die anytime .