I’m Slipping Through My Own Fingers

09.07.2018

Настроение не очень.

Если я пыталась убить себя восемь раз... то меня можно считать везунчиком или всё таки неудачником?

Я счастлива но не очень. Да просто больная нахрен. Мама задолбала. Я я я устала. Сердце сейчас колотится как при панической атаке. А может это она как всегда не в то время в гости ко мне приходит? Лежу ведь на кровати и никого не трогаю. Что не так?

13.02.2020

Tiit.... tule tagasi

Ära mine. Ära jookse ära. Me pidime ju looma viiruse, mis tapaks inimesi, kes seda maailma rikuvad. Sa ei saa nii teha. Ma ei mõista sind hukka. Ma saan aru. Ikkagist on valus. Palun, mõtle ümber. Jookse nii kaua kuni tunned, et see hetk on üle. Ära, palun ära...

Ma tahan, et sa elaks. Peab haigla aed nii madal olema?

Tule tagasi...

09.11.2018

Среда

17:15

•30 таблеток

18:00

•на меня орут. Спрашивают чего сколько. Не дают уснуть. Кейт бегает туда сюда. Элииса будя меня чуть ли не плакала. —-

•работники педиатрии

•интенсив

•кома, катетер, капельница, зонд

•ноги и руки привязаны к кровати.

Четверг

14:28

•опять в отделении

•мама

И СЛИШКОМ МНОГО ЧЕГО И Я НЕ СДОХЛА

I want to kill myself. That’s all.

I feel like I’m in a cage. Every time I try to be myself somebody shuts me down. I hope it ends soon.

Me: I can't take it anymore. I almost killed myself yesterday...

Therapist: You are managing everything so much better.

...

Broken.

I’m so fuckin sad and broken. I don’t know what to do to feel better. I don’t want it to end and I don’t want to be feeling my whole life like this.

I want to go.

21.06.2018

Я опять возвращаюсь к саморазрушению так как должна жить, а если жить то только так.

At the age of eight

First time I died at the age of 8. I was skating on our street when I heard a scream. You know the one you hear in movies when a person dies and loved ones see that. I didn’t know what that scream meant. I ran home and saw my mom crying, she said that grandfather died. What? How? Yes, he was sick but he got better? He did right? What does it mean?

Funeral, grandmother screams and cries and people are holding her. “He was so young” I didn’t understand, he’s grandfather he can’t be young. “Even now he’s smiling” said my aunt. I looked and grandads dead face, yes he’s smiling. I can’t breathe. “Dad can I go, sit in a car?”.

It’s September and we’re back at school, second grade you know the year I was one of the best student and read lots of books. I hated reading before that. Girls started bragging about what each one of them did whole summer. “And what about you?” “Oh, my grandfather died”. Silence, no there wasn’t any but I didn’t hear anything. Nobody heard me? Or did they just ignore it? I wanted to scream, I wanted to run away, I’m fucking 8 years old and nobody, nor family or friends thought that death of the most important to me person actually bothers me.

At the age of 8 was the first time I died. At the age of 8 I learned that nobody cares. At the age of eight I grew up. At the age of 8 I buried my happiness.

My mom would have left me to die