Goodbye again.

Goodbye again. I tell myself as if sleep will bring me any peace. My dreams are of him hovering over me violating my body as I am helpless. I grab the knife as if this time I will actually do it. My tears make my head hurt as I grow weary. I lay down again as my eyes drift close. Sleep will let me escape. If only I could escape. My tears start to burn my cheeks and my head throbs. The blood I bleed is not my fault. Oh, how I wish it was. I wish I would dig the knife deep into my skin and bleed and hurt somewhere else. Think about something else. Someone else. He has taken my sanity. He has taken my security. He has taken my sanctuary.  I no longer feel as if I own my own body. He took away any say that I would have over it. I did say. I said "No." I said, "I don't want to". My words meant nothing to him. As he laughed and brought me back to him. I grow weary once again. My feelings out on paper. Goodbye once again. Till the new day begins.

I was raped.

I was raped. I was thinking sexual thoughts about my boyfriend. When I thought about making love to him I flashed back to the rapist on top of me. My legs unable to move as he tried to force his penis inside of me. Then sticking his fingers inside of me as I am helpless and unable to move. I remember thinking let's just get this over with. So I told him to move and I put my legs in the air. He tried again. I got up and said, "I don't want too." He left my head a mess. I didn't let it get violent. I was drunk and high. I knew I couldn't defend myself. I have spiraled into a deep depression. For weeks. I hardly leave my apartment. I have become suicidal. Very suicidal. Every night I think about dying. I don't want to talk to anyone about it. It's embarrassing. It wasn't my fault. I didn't want it. I said I didn't want to.

How I'm feeling...

"You can only be happy if you love yourself." Well shit, I'm fucked then eh? I don't hate myself. Or do I? Honestly, I don't know. I love my personality. I think I'm great.  Sometimes? If I met someone exactly like me I would love them so much. Then again I do hate myself, and I want to kill myself. I think its the mental issues. Maybe? Where do the mental issues stop and I start? Who am I? I thought I knew. Or did I? All that is in my brain is questions. Why did I do that? Why did I say that? Why am I like this? Why doesn't anyone love me? People do love me. I think? I could convince myself very easily that no one loves me. Make it easier to die. Make it easier too not care. I don't want to burden anyone. My issues shouldn't burden anyone else but myself. 

Maybe its the people I let in my life making me feel as if I can't have feelings? no, I never liked feelings. Or did I? I have feelings, that is all I know.