I went for a long walk tonight. I just thought about everything. I honestly don’t know what to do at the moment. Well, at all really. I don’t know if I should get help, I don’t even know if I need it. I don’t really see it doing much good. I mean, if anyone is going to stop me from cutting, it’s going to be me.
I’ve said it before, but I keep everything to myself. That’s the way I like it. I don’t like being a burden on others. But I am honestly sick of having no one to talk to. I just feel alone all the time. Sure I have my good friends and they say that they’re there for me. But I feel as though I tell them something and they almost always turn it on themselves. I know I am supposed to support them as well, but when I am finally starting to talk or say what I am actually feeling, I just need them to be there. I need them to tell me everything will be okay. I need them to hug me. I need them to support me. Actually support me.
I hate crying in public or in front of anyone. I think it’s embarrassing. But sometimes it’s the only way to get through.
On my walk tonight I walked past the cousellors house. She just lives on the next street to me. I kind of just stood there for a minute. That sounds so creepy, but I just needed her. She hasn’t been at school because she had a baby, so that’s sort of why I was so hesitant in seeing the replacement counsellor because I just don’t feel very comfortable with her. I felt like I could say anything to the old counsellor. So I don’t know, I guess in a weird way it was just comforting to know that she was there. Fuck that sounds like I am so creepy.
She’s back at school now I am pretty sure. Depending on how my day is tomorrow, I may go see her.
Argh, I always fucking say that. I always say I will go see someone, that I will talk to someone, that I’m getting help, but it just never happens. It frustrates the hell out of me.
I guess all I can do is hope that I will find some strength in me tomorrow. I know that once I get in there, I will be fine, but it’s the actual physically (let alone emotional) part.
I can sort of see how it is going to work though. I will finally get in to the counsellor, she will ask me what’s up, and I will just talk about my friends. I won’t talk about me or my cutting. Seriously fuck this shit.