Ugh deleting pics off my phone and ofc I see this. God I miss her so much. Fuck.

Just smoked weed with my brother and he’s too conservative hopefully he will learn not to trust cops with time.

I haven’t really journaled so I haven’t really reflected on what’s been going on, and there’s been a lot of things that are giving me really strong feelings that I’m taking drugs in order to ignore. On Thursday I’ll be busy with my family and on Friday with my brother, Saturday saying bye to my family and doing laundry and gaming or whatever, but Sunday I’m going to really sit down and write a long journal entry and talk about all the things that have been happening and the feelings I’ve been having. I need to talk about rebekah. I need to talk about shaina. I need to talk about my mom. I need to talk about eve. I need to talk about jess, and jessie,  and shan. I’m getting better,  there’s no doubt about that and I’m trying not to discourage myself, but like there’s a lot of healing left to do, and I’m still existing in survival mode and I’m trying to get out of that without developing a pill habit. Ugh. I’m trying. I it hard enough? I don’t know. I’m suffering a lot. I’m just trying to love myself, I guess. I’m trying to think I’m worth surviving, I’m worth getting better. I’m trying to think redemption is possible for me, and that maybe with or without me, the people I hurt will be able to heal as well.

Well I see maybe she has checked my blog. I haven’t checked hers, to not hurt myself,  and I think that was wise. If you’re reading this: I love you, and I hope you’re ok.

I’m writing here now instead of checking her blog. I love her but it didn’t work out and that’s ok. I just have to learn from this and do better next time. Like with ida. I won’t treat her like a punching bag like I have everyone else. I hope rebas doing well, and I hope she’s not hurting as much as I am.

I’ve been ok, I guess. I stopped journaling since Reba stopped checking my blog. I’m going to try and do it anyways, just for me. The whole only working 3 days a week thing is cool, because like last weekend I had time to do two very important things in order to prepare for uni, and time to do loads of drugs to squash my pain, and wrote a pretty good poem. Today had a productive day at work, I’m going in early tomorrow and intend on having another long productive day, then the sale on Wednesday, and then therapy, and I’m free for the weekend. I still haven’t cut myself, which is good. I’m kinda less suicidal, which is good, but I still am walking around in a remarkedly depressed haze. So just get through work, and then work on uni stuff over the weekend, also Skype date with ida bean on Thursday, and plans for fun with my brother on Friday. Things are good. Im beautiful and punk and capable and I can fuckin do it.

i’m sad without you.

it’s a deep sadness –
it seeps through the tissues
down to the bone.
they fray and flake around the edges
like tired pieces of soap.
my once-strong heart is
eroded, porous, atrophied.
a sad, overused sponge

i tried to wring you out of me.

it’s a constant sadness –
it’s there in the morning to greet me
before i’ve opened my eyes.
it’s put lead weights under my skin,
sapped the strength from my limbs,
changed me entirely.
i’m amorphous, gelatinous, a
mound of a monster
capable of only rudimentary thought:

rebekah. rebekah’s gone forever.

you follow me like a ghost.
you’re always with me.

or am i the ghost following you?

Look at us. I was miserable then but I had no idea what was in store for me.

Drove home trashed Friday. Spent the whole weekend pilled up and smoked up and sad and pathetic. Took a shower today. Not going to work tomorrow. I’m really slipping. She stopped reading my blog so I can say it: if she were still here I wouldn’t be using drugs so heavily. I know I fucked it up forever, but I love her.

They’re all gone. So am I. 

not found.

there’s nothing here.