Life's not what it used to be.

I'm pretty sad...pretty hurt...feeling pretty terrible.

This past week was hell. I don't think I'd wish that fate on even my worst enemy. Why it had to happen, who knows.

I'm not feeling strong...to be real and honest. Everyone says I should and all that, and I'm pretty much at this point just doing whatever anyone tells me to do. Tons of doctors, counselors, new stuff to take that makes me sicker and sicker. Bleh.

I'm on a break from school, but I realize that life doesn't stop just cuz I'm not around. People are still busy...still got lives to live. I'm shaking while I type this post...I've never shaken before.

Transferring from hospital to hospital is not easy. It's quite exhausting. I never realized how much energy I put into making myself feel worse.

If I could neutralize the acid in my stomach, maybe things would be better...but no. It comes up every morning at 5 AM and makes me dry heave for...well, it was four hours today.

God I feel so friggin lonely. I lost all this weight and I look at myself in the mirror and I see this unbelievably ugly, unworthy, pathetic girl. But I'm trying to make myself believe otherwise.

People been through worse, I know...it makes me feel worse that I know that because I feel selfish. And it doesn't help when people tell me I am, by the way. It's not like I asked God to make me think this way, act this way, to make me this way period.

I have this amazing support system that I didn't realize I had. I GUESS people care. I guess...

I'm supposed to perform at AIITM this Thursday...guess I won't make it. I wrote this great poem, too. Well, I think it's great. First poem I've been proud of in awhile.

It's quiet in San Jose. Every time I close my eyes, I don't feel calm. But I want to...

My parents cry all the time. My dad wants to give up. Give up...that's what I wanted to do. That's what I TRIED to do.

Sometimes, it's still what I want to do.

I wish I could smile without feeling like crying. And I wish I could close my eyes and not see bad things or dream bad dreams.

I wish I could just run back to happier times, or run back and do things over, or run back and not do things at all...I wish my mistakes weren't the only ones put on blast, and sometimes I wish I wasn't nice enough and could fuck with people's lives the way people have fucked with mine.

I can't explain the feeling in my body when an anxiety attack happens. And all I think at 3 AM while it's happening, is that the rest of the people I know and love are sound asleep while I gag and try to fall asleep on the bathroom floor wishing that I wrapped the bungee cord around my neck a little bit tighter, or that I swallowed all the pills, or that I jumped out the 4th floor of the MU, or that I knew how to tie a noose.

Scary shit, huh?

People always ask me, "You didn't think about your parents, or your family, or your friends?" And the answer is, yes I did. Of course I did. But my mentality was that I loved them all SO MUCH that I felt like their lives would be better off without me. And oftentimes, while I'm sitting in solitude on my couch here in San Jose, knowing no one is going to call me or want to see me, I still feel like people's lives would be just a little bit better...without me.

Maybe I'm not the girl I thought I could be. I'm not the determined girl I once was.

I find solace in planning my funeral for God's sake.

Why did I put so much energy in all of this stupid shit? Why did I have such a low self-esteem that it caused people to take advantage of me? Why did I have to be liked so much? Why...a lot of things.

The cuts are dry now...new skin is growing. Tough skin maybe.

I hope I survive.