I need to fix myself.
Heechul is still away and I'm still alone in the shared house. I should be happy with my life but ever since meeting Jya again the past has been lurking in shadows of the rooms and sleep has been little. I feel like I need to tell everyone the truth before I self destruct and everybody's hard work is made useless because my old self loathing has consumed me and I've thrown myself in front of the train.
I try so hard to be happy, to smile and have fun and be optimistic. Usually it works but recently I haven't been able to motivate myself into a happy state of mind. I made a promise to myself that I would never hurt myself after a particularly dark night a month after I became homeless. I broke that promise last night, My paranoia got the best of me and I scratched at my fore arms until they bled. They are currently wrapped in medical gauze and resting on ice packs as I type.
A few weeks after that night I met Jya. I knew right away that he was trouble, we met at 3 in the morning in Shibuya, but I didn't care. It only took a us a few weeks before I was buying drugs from him and when I couldn't actually pay anymore we became fuck buddies. This went on for two years. I spiraled out of control but of course he wasn't my friend, he just comforted when it became too much so he could continue to use me. I wasn't going to last much longer, I knew that, I had become skinnier, wasn't eating, wasn't sleeping. I had to go home and I did. I detoxed alone in my room, it was one of the most painful experiences I've ever had. I think my dad still blames me for it and that's why he wants me to go to college more than ever, so I will live at home. I don't know if that would be worse or better, living with my dad who still looks at me with judging eyes and a sharp tongue that throws out insults like they don't drive me away even more. I don't know what to do anymore.
I found these pictures after talking with Jya, most of these he took. Maybe I'll burn them.I can't help but want to cry as I look at myself. That isn't me. That's some lifeless shell that is too drugged up and miserable to even care.
I try so hard to be happy, to smile and have fun and be optimistic. Usually it works but recently I haven't been able to motivate myself into a happy state of mind. I made a promise to myself that I would never hurt myself after a particularly dark night a month after I became homeless. I broke that promise last night, My paranoia got the best of me and I scratched at my fore arms until they bled. They are currently wrapped in medical gauze and resting on ice packs as I type.
A few weeks after that night I met Jya. I knew right away that he was trouble, we met at 3 in the morning in Shibuya, but I didn't care. It only took a us a few weeks before I was buying drugs from him and when I couldn't actually pay anymore we became fuck buddies. This went on for two years. I spiraled out of control but of course he wasn't my friend, he just comforted when it became too much so he could continue to use me. I wasn't going to last much longer, I knew that, I had become skinnier, wasn't eating, wasn't sleeping. I had to go home and I did. I detoxed alone in my room, it was one of the most painful experiences I've ever had. I think my dad still blames me for it and that's why he wants me to go to college more than ever, so I will live at home. I don't know if that would be worse or better, living with my dad who still looks at me with judging eyes and a sharp tongue that throws out insults like they don't drive me away even more. I don't know what to do anymore.
I found these pictures after talking with Jya, most of these he took. Maybe I'll burn them.I can't help but want to cry as I look at myself. That isn't me. That's some lifeless shell that is too drugged up and miserable to even care.