So I might be pregnant.

Luckily my antidepressant would be safe for the baby and I'm being weaned off the Seroquel, and probably soon the Klonopin as well.

I don't smoke, I don't drink. So here I am, possibly ready to bring another life into the world.

Welcome to existence, Jasmine Alexandra or Jude Donald... I hope you're not just in my imagination.

If I allow myself to cut, will I become suicidal?

Strange question, because I was not suicidal for years while cutting, but it seems like the two go hand in hand these days.

lavender walls encompass my memory
as i reflect, and wonder if it's where i belong.
i don't WANT to go back,
but i'm wondering if i have to.
it's just a psych ward,
and it would only be my 16th time...
but i don't WANT to go back.
at the same time,
while the lavender walls surround my brain,
blood red fills the empty spaces.
i remember hitting an artery (just barely)
only a matter of weeks ago
and know that i am out of control
but i'm not sure i want to be in control anymore.
i've spent so long fighting,
i've forgotten what i'm fighting for.
my sanity? what is that?
i don't remember anymore.
all i remember is my desire for blood,
to stain black cloth brown,
to live in a state of fascination
at the colors, the sensations,
the fleeting feeling of finally being free.
i know i'm out of control,
but somehow, i doubt that lavender walls
will help me regain control.

It's a good thing I'm at a friends house who hides the sharp things when I visit. I've had a fucking horrible day.

My friend Ashley has been living with me because her husband's an abusive asshole. A couple days ago she found out she's pregnant with his baby. He forced her to move out when she didn't want to and was a general asshat to me.

Then I find out my stepfather might be going to Iraq for a year.

I want to hurt myself so much atm.

I hate seeing him with her.

I can't wait until I move back to New York so things begin to go the way they should be again.

And now I'm all alone again, nowhere to turn, no one to go to...

i thought you were holding on.
thought you were 'too old fashioned'
(in your own damn words)
to let me go.
but you have.

i hate myself enough already,
and you merely compounded it
by doing what i thought you'd do all along
and leave me here
sobbing so hard i can't breathe,
alone.

i can't believe this has happened.
my visions of my future are
awash with the tide.
i can't cope with this--
all i can do is cry, and pray
that the Goddess will have pity on me
and ease my pain.

i had faith in you.
you gave me faith in mankind.
you made me give a shit.

my mistake.

I'm an idiot.

How could I expect him to hang on after a month? A whole month of being in the hospital?

I suppose because I loved him, so I thought maybe he loved me too. It seems I thought wrong, and it seems I'm losing everything...

Oh God, I wish I could mutilate myself right now. Not just cut-- seriously mutilate.

Spectacular.

I'm pissing blood.

NOT where I wanted my blood to come from!