How I feel about myself....

Sometimes when I close my eyes I can see the person I wish to become. I can almost touch her, smell her, taste her. She seems so close, but the minute I open my eyes she becomes so far away, so none existent. I wanted life to be so much more, but its hard when failure is always knocking at your door. The years of my life just feel like one long running bad day. Then all at once I realize that time running through my fingers. It just keeps sifting away, another thing I can never stop and never change. The seconds, minutes, hours, days, weeks, months, years.... they keep going withing a blink of an eye... and what have I to show for them? I have no great accomplishments, I have no purpose. I exist in this world, but just barely. I'm hanging on by a thread. And it all makes me so unhappy. And all the let downs of my life Just make me fall apart inside.
I fool the world around me into believing that I am all right. I walk around with a fake smile plastered to my face. No matter how deep the wounds are on my wrists, the world just sees me as how I should be, no one ever sees me for who and what I am.
I give everyone the lies they so desperately want to believe. I think to myself - Give them a lie, the truth shall be my secret. Let it breed the birth of my mascaraed, because its too hard to explain what its really like inside my head. Its like I am always fighting off some dark cloud that wants to take over my mind. And I can only fight it off for so long, I'm not all that emotionally strong, and sooner or later the demon in me rears its ugly head and shows the black hollow soul that I really have, and its snaps me into someone I don't want to be. I turn into the emotionally run down, angry, scary girl.... and that girl scares the hell out of me. And that darkness that leads me into great depressions ruins everything. It hurts everyone I love. It kills their liveliness. I have been killing the joy in my family for years and years and years. And I never know how to talk to anyone about it. I'm to afraid.
I am afraid of the looks. I am scared to have my family think I have gone off the edge. I'm not crazy. I don't need a doctor. I don't need a nice soft bed in some secured corridor of a sterile white hospital. I need to have all the bad days stop happening. Because I can't remember the last time I had a good day, and good nights sleep. I am tired of everything bad happening, I am tired of being poor. I am sick of having nothing go my way. Can't something positive ever happen for a change? Do the God's above hate me that much? But then again what have I ever done that should put me in their good graces?
I have engaged in conduct that has lead me to this miserable life. And I was cursed with the fact that the sad things in life effect me ten fold compared to most everyone else I know. "Most people when they get hurt, they put a bandage on and keep going... me... I bleed to death." - perfect quote to describe me. And the battle with bloodshed always plays in my head. The need to bleed is always scratching under the surface where my veins run red and warm. Nothing can compair to the feeling of cutting an open wound and letting every ounce of pain run free. Its divine!
I try not to let life come to that. I try so hard to push aside the feelings of being overwhelmed. But it always feels like its only a matter of time, and then I will do it again. I am addicted. Its not coke, its not heroine... its self inflicted pain I am addicted to. And the scars will forever tell the story of my life. I keep my happy memories in a photo album, and I preserve my painful moments by tallying them on my wrists. Its a sick and twisted homage to all the reasons I am the way I am, and who I am. Its sick. I know it, I just can't seem to help it. And I can't be fixed, so don't even try to stitch me up. I no long have thoughts of suicide, I don't feel the need to die. I just feel the need to let the depression run out of me. I cut, and I let it free. And I feel so much better after, and that's the sickest part of all. I have been fighting that part of me tooth and nail. So far I am coming out on the bottom of that battle.
I don't blame my family for why I am the way I am. I used to, God knows I used to. But when I sit up at night (which is most nights, because I just can seem to sleep much these last few years), I realize I was using them as deflector... to deflect the blame from falling on myself. Its not their fault I have never felt special, loved, and cared for. My family loves me. I know deep down inside of my heart they do. There is just something wrong with me on the surface... something that feels the need to say hey... they never loved you anyways. Why? Why am I like that? Why do I place the blame on the ones around me? I don't understand, and never have. I never will.
And medication doesn't help. I don't take it anymore. It didn't make me feel an ounce of difference. It might have taken the rough edges off life, but life isn't perfectly round with the edges removed. There is no perfect circle, so why cut the edges of life's triangled imperfections? Well rounded edges don't change who you really are. Maybe I'm making no sense... I never do. I only make sense in my own head. Anytime I try to spit out my feelings into words they somehow get lost in translation. Isn't that the story of my life.
I am thinking to myself right now -- Why even write this all down? Why even try to explain yourself? Maybe because I want someone to understand me. Just one person. I just want one person to see me for ME and not judge me and think of me as crazy. I stress myself out trying to make myself not appear crazy to everyone around me. If I try so hard to convince the world I'm sane... does that mean maybe I am a little mad in the head? But then again isn't everyone a little mad? I know I'm not the only one on this planet who feels the way I do. There are others. I have done the research. And most people like me don't want help. They don't want anyone to help them stop being who they really are. No therapy, no drugs, no meds. They would rather be themselves than be turned into someone they know they are not, just to fit in. Just to mesh well with society. Society makes people like me feel the need to be someone else. I have to be someone else or I am not accepted. People like me are frowned upon. Well I frown upon all of those who judge without really knowing anything that they are judging about.
Spend a day in my mind, and you will be dying to get free, to get out. Then tell me to stop being a baby and suck it up. That's all I hear... stop feeling sorry for yourself. Just buck up and deal with it all. But what if you can't? What if you try and try, and you just can't crawl out of the pit you seem to have fallen into.
Imagine how it would feel to not be able to control the sadness you constantly feel. And you just want to cry and never stop. And having a complete meltdown never feels far away. Sometimes you just want to let the fragile exterior you portray, finally crack and fall away. I would love to let reality slip away some days. To just crawl under a rock, and stay there forever.
Maybe I should show someone all of this. Maybe I should. Maybe it would feel better to know someone has read it all, and it will lift some weight off of my chest. But I don't think I'll ever let anyone know. Just writing it and feeling like maybe I'll send it to someone makes me feel more at home in my own skin.