Crap.

4 a.m. and i still can't sleep... as usual....

Alright, well... i'm not really sure where this is going, or how it's going to turn out, but, here it goes....

I miss my razor. My sharp, shiny, bloodthirsty razor. I miss how the minute i hold it in my hand i instantly feel relief knowing, that when my blood meets the outside layer of skin that covers my wrist, forearm, stomach, leg, etc., that i am releasing repressed feelings, stress, and anger. I miss the pain and annoying yet satisfying sting that comes from gliding it's sharp edge along my skin.

These stupid, ugly scars on the inside of my arm taunt me. Forcing me to remember my former surrender. I'm fucked. Here i am, attempting my new surrender, it's not working.... a few cuts and i'd be in dreamland until morning. Damn it. If only it was last year. She could send me to a hospital and it wouldnt matter, it wouldnt effect me in the slightest. Now i cant risk her even considering the fact that i may have new scars, or off to the institution i'll go, fucking up junior year, and there for ending all chances of getting away from this god forsaken hell hole i'm being forced to live in. 

I'm unstable. I'm borderline entirely psychotic. But i cannot let on that this is the case. I have to stay in school this year. It's junior year, it's important, it's going to get me out of this place. For now, i have this unpromising blog, and 100 mg of zoloft (my new medication) and zoloft is proving to be rather nifty, for now. Though, i'd much rather my razor....ugh.