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oops so a kid at my school somehow found out about my scars and shit and she talked to me and I was so rattled that I didn't realize that she said she noticed them on my arms before there were any on my arms?? so she must be mixing me up with another freshman girl but it's too late to back out now and I'm scared she'll tell faculty even though she probably won't but if she does I'm fucked
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Thanks Re for the encouragement. (By the way, sometimes I really want to clean my room too (it's usually a wreck), so you're not alone there! :) )
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love it when people completely disregard my feelings
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(@Re) Yaaay! *after the virtual high five dances around a little*
(@Swallowtail) I'm sorry to hear that! I hope she doesn't tell... (@Owen) Don't worry, I care :) |
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I can see not everyone is doing well but I hope everyone has something good happen to them this week! |
"it gets better"
okay but t's been like 4 years and it's just ?????? one problem after another |
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I noticed you don't seem to get replies much, and i don't know you well, but do you prefer it that way? not having replies, i mean. Idon'tknowhowtophrasethatlessawkwardlysorry ijustknowthatsomepeopledon'talwayswantresponses. |
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im not particularly lookking for responses. im just using this place as a sort of diary i guess lmao. but ill be grateful if someone does reply, |
Lost. Depressed. Alone. Ashamed. Possibly addicted to Cutting. Messed up. Done.
Well, I don't know. I really don't. Cutting is just how it is now. It's a relief. I try to stop. I really do. But I can't. IT just feels so good to strike it against my skin, and watching the blood burble up is like "Ha, you deserved it". I found a sharper weapon, and*I'm better at hiding them now. And I try to do things that will make me happy and stop when I'm at my limit, but when I do, people attack me for it. I just don't know anymore.
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