Danielle D

Ode to one fucked up world

Copyright, Danielle D

It seems like pain is all I’ve ever known in this life. But I know that’s not really true. I know that I was once happy even if it was for only a short amount of time. So yes, I was once happy…

All this cutting started a couple years after my depresstion started. I first remember wanting to die when I was seven years old. I remeber feeling so much hate. Then when I was eleven I cut for the first time. I am fourteen years old now and I’m still cutting. As a matter of fact I have 46 cuts on my arms right now. I don’t really want to stop cutting either. It really does help me.

In July of 2003 I attemped suicide. I ended up in the hospital throwing up in so much physical pain. I do not regret one second of it. If I could do it over I would. I wouldn’t fuck up this time. I’m in so much pain. Inside and out. I hurt so bad and I only wish that one person could understand the magnitude of my pain. But no one see’s. They don’t see me.

My mother probably blames my “unhealthy” obsession with Nirvana. I don’t think that she knows about all the cutting. I hide it well. I hide everything so fucking well. But this pain is gonna bust out of me.

I am bulimic. This just started in recent weeks. I don’t know what to do with myself. I often think that If I was dead the shit would stop. My mom took me out of the one school that I was happiest at. I hate that cunt with a passion. I am not happy at all. I need to cut again. I like to use razors and glass. I love blood.


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