• 30th june My head is clear. I’m shaking. My hearts running at a speed too fast. I’m lying here. I cut. Brand new blade. Two perfect lines of blood roll, roll, down my leg, merrily down my leg. The smaller cuts run into those lines. I’m alive and I’m fucking beautiful, red running down my leg, shivering with pleasure. Oh fuck. I’m fucked up. Good cuts tonight. Makes a change. What went down? So mums doing this uni course right and all the works due tomorrow. She hasn’t done a whole heap. Typical high school situation. I think, she gets most of it done, printed out, ready to hand in. then Dads gotta put his two cents in, how its not good enough to hand up, how she didn’t do any of it right. Then the real fight begins. Basically mum takes no responsibility for not presenting it right, for not finding out how to do it. And they yell and yell and get off topic. And of course she drags me into it, blaming her for something or another. And I can hear. I tried to block it out, focus on the tellie. Not let it get to me. Then he starts on me. Fucking this, fucking that. So I go to my room. I cut. Etc etc. you know how it goes. What I hate, is she makes herself out to be this fucking martyr. But then she takes no responsibility Exhibit A) she gets in the car, looks at me and says “where’s the car keys? Why don’t you have the keys?” like I SHOULD have them, like im responsible for HER car, and HER keys, seeing as I don’t even drive, how does that work? Exhibit B) this uni thing she’s doing something about how “iv left that work out for weeks. Lulu didn’t type it up. I HAD TO TYPE IT ALL UP MYSELF” oh gosh. Shock fucking horror. Since when have you ever typed up my assignments? You act like you’re the first person to learn use a computer. The list goes on. But I can’t be fucked anymore. I was doing better you stupid cunt. I hadn’t cut for over a week. I had some fucking hope. And you took that away. I hate you. Get over yourself and let me be. Bitch.

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