Things are better. Sort of.

I won't lie, I'm feeling better even though I sincerely thought I wouldn't.
But I won't lie about the fact that it's still really hard, too. I'm not giving in, not returning his emails, not accepting his friend requests. And although I know it's the right thing to do, and I'm feeling happier lately, it's still like a punch to the heart whenever I ignore him and whenever I turn away. My other friend just was broken up with by her boyfriend, and she's going through a tough time, and it's awful hearing her going through so much pain. Also, her pain reminds me of my own pain. So while things are better, they still, umm, aren't. Also because I'm still witnessing another friend's abuse in her family. I'm working on something for that. It was an impulsive decision, actually, but I'm not angry that I made it. In fact, I think I should have made it long ago.
Not to say I'm not scared to death about what the results may be. I'm petrified. And I'm worried about my friend being away from me. But her safety and mental health and even physical health mean a lot to me, and being away from her would be worth it if she were to find happiness and peace in her chaotic life.
You can be a strong Christian with incredible faith and still be lost.
You can be all about God and still doing some of the worst things.
If he emails me again, I'm going to have to say something... but I'd rather tell him in person that I need a lot of time and that the next time we talk, if we do, should be on my terms. I don't like to think "if we do".
My friend's birthday is tomorrow. I'm excited. Love the girl. If I could buy her the world, I would.

My Thought Process.

Let's take a look at what goes through my head for a minute. I'm just going to type what I think.

The people around the room don't know anything about my life and if they did would it matter, would they care, am I ever going to find a guy that loves me, or am I unloveable, I hope he knows he isn't unloveable, my goodness I love him, why am I so stupid, I'm an idiot for ever trying to help, this is ridiculous, my friends don't understand, I love Jasmine, I don't want to think about God, I'm tired of people throwing God in my face and expecting me to be fine with my circumstances, they expect me to just deal with the pain and not lash out, I want to break things, I want to crush things, I was supposed to not write about him for a week and I forgot and so I did start writing, why did I forget, why am I so stupid, this is terrible, I helped someone and this is what I get, nobody can see my pain either, they can't even see my pain they just hear of it and don't really believe it hurts that much but it hurts like hell and I don't know what to do about it and this is what I think and nobody gets it and everybody is all in their own little lives and I just want a break from mine, I just want to lay in bed for a whole week, I just want to go somewhere where people care, I just want to go somewhere where people can help me, what am I nuts, I don't want to go to the psych ward, he went there and got his necklace there, oh shit I forgot it, I have to give it back to Jasmine and I forgot it, I wanted it out, but did I really, if i had it I wouldn't want to give it away, but I don't have it and I do, I'm so caught in between wanting to stay and go. stay away from me, come back, omg erin make up your mind, I'm going absolutely crazy inside of my head.

I can barely function at school.
I hate this so much.

I wish I could still wish it was over.

I wish I could still be wishing that it was over, instead of dying inside.
As if it was better when I was pinned down, and now that I'm free, I don't want to be. It's laughable. It's crazy. It's just the way that I feel.

One reason why people cut.

Now, I don't cut myself.
But I understand completely one specific reason why they do.
see, here's the thing, it's like, if you get physically hurt? everyone can tell. people are able to see a cast, a scar, crutches, a bandage.
but they can't see the inner wounds, and sometimes you wish they could, or even that you YOURSELF could.
sometimes I look in the mirror for a sign of what's going on underneath but I can't physically see it.
and you wish it was something tangible, a wound you could heal.
but it's like, you can't bandage a heart. you can't fix it with tools, or even glue the pieces back together. it's inside, and you can't just fix it like that. it's those things you can fix, those outside wounds, they make you jealous, they make you angry that you can't see how to connect things, that it's all just something that you can't SEE.
I understand that. wanting to be able to see your pain.
that's one reason why people cut themselves.
they think people will take them more seriously, and they do.
and it's heartbreaking that it has to get to that point until people start caring.
they''ll think, "If you aren't cutting yourself it can't hurt that bad."
WRONG. It can.
and the person can manifest their emotional pain into something tangible.
people will say, there are no cuts, no brusies, how can it hurt that bad? when in reality, it hurts like a hellish pain, like something indescribable. but in order to be taken seriously, often people have to be able to see it. to write it across their arms or legs, to show someone, these are my scars. the ones you can see. they reflect what's inside. this is how I've been cut inside, but the only way to show you is to cut myself outside.

:l

this is emotional hell.

here's the thing: if staying is wrong, I'm not sure I want to be right.

I deleted the message he sent me.

I had a dream last night. It was really weird. He came to my house in his car with his sister and told me to get in and I did, and I sat in the back with his sister. and she was smiling at me and I was like, "What?" and HE answered "Oh, nothing. Nothing." Then he dropped his sister off at this building called Penn Dot or whatever, it was like a hotel or something, and she was going to eat lunch with her mom there. and then I got out with her and she said goodbye... I wasn't going with her, I was left with her brother... and when I got back in the car he told me to get in the front. I was like, "oh. okay." and when I was getting in I noticed that there were a bunch of people surrounding the car, staring, and I was like, "why are they all staring at us?" he didn't answer, we just got in and drove away, and I was starting to wonder where we were going, but then I woke up. I wanted to go back to it, wanted to know where we were going. But I guess it didn't matter.

The phrase, "It gets harder every day" is so true and nobody understands. They all expect me to be getting better, well news flash, it's just getting worse. They all ask if I'm better, if I'm feeling any better about it... no! I'm not! I'm feeling worse every day! Gosh, I'm sick and tired of people not understanding crap about how I feel. Like it literally feels like a huge hollow space in my chest, like some empty space, it actually FEELS that way!

I hate it.

I'm not sure I can do this.

You...

You were an island no one would dare to tread upon. I came in like the wise men and asked you to take my gift of love.

THE WEEK JUST GETS BETTER.

I might have lost my glasses.

God hates me.

defeated.

I'm defeated.
People can tell.
Even teachers.
They all say I'm not myself.
I walk around with no desire to do anything.
My heart aches as though an unbearably heavy weight has been put on it.
And there's nowhere I can go. Nothing I can do. To make the pain go away.
I have no options here. I am sitting in hurt and people tell me that somehow I'm going to have to sit here until it stops hurting.
That somehow, someday, it won't hurt me anymore, and I'll be happy again. Really happy, again.
How?
How can I even wait when this pain is so harsh and cruel that I have become zombielike, randomly bursting into tears throughout the day?

Dead.

I can barely move or talk. I have no energy.
I am being ripped apart inside. If it weren't for me feeling sad, I would feel dead.
Is that what depression is like? Feeling dead?
Is that how it was for him?
I wouldn't be able to stand it.
I can't imagine feeling that way... feeling not alive but dead.
Is that how he felt all the time?
I feel like I might cry more.
I just feel like sleeping for a really long time.

What can I do?

What can I do? Honestly, I have no idea anymore. I feel like I looked at his emptiness and poured myself into him, and that I've lost so much energy and just I feel pale and I feel more tired and l feel dragged down. I wish I never met him, But then I never would have met his sister. It wasn't worth it trying to help him, but wasn't it? and didn't I help the rest of the family? Those are the thought that I'm dealing with, but I'm so tired and so weak and I'm just breaking under this pressure.
And I keep telling myself, "Don't think! Don't freaking think! Because when you think you realize just how screwed up everthing really is. You realize you don't know how you got where you are, You don't know where you're going, And you don't know what to do anymore!!!!!!"
And I can't even cry to him. Can't even say anything to him because he doesn't understand and there's just NOTHING I CAN DO!