I don't need one.

Okay so my sister told me that I need some help, but I cant afford any, so I decided to start writing a blog. I need some way to vent and I would rather type it then write it. Okay, so I feel along a lot of the time. I feel like when it comes down to it, there is just me. And i hate the fact that I feel alone. You know I just felt along all of my life. I tend to hurt myself when I am actually alone. Like when nobody is at home and all I have is myself. Cause generally, the only time I ever show my feelings is when I am alone, cause I don't want anybody to see my feelings. I am the type of person who wants to appear strong. Well actually I am strong. I cant generally take things as they come, I might cry by myself or something, but I can normally still smile when I have nothing. But there is times when I cant do anything to smile. I'll have a break down. I might get close to someone like a friend or even someone I might have a crush on and they end up hurting me. And then I will have a break down. I don't know why, but I do. I think it has something to do with rejection. I have been rejected a lot. Especially when I was a child and growing up to an older teenager. Well the point of this is to admit that I have a problem. When I was younger I used to claw at my head, or bang it on something when I was having a break down. Then as I got older, I started to burn myself, or punch myself. Especially when I didn't do something right. Like miss a note while playing piano. Or did bad in school. Then as my problems got worse and I couldn't focus. Where I became cold to everyone. I started cutting myself. I have cut myself many many times. I started out with just a saftey pin, I would do tiny scratches until it became a big cut. People would believe that I just fell. And normally I would cut on my leg or my shoulder. So nobody would see. Then just recently I which was the last time, I got a razor blade. And I cut on the side of my wrist. And made tiny little cuts on my vain line. I had thoughts to kill myself. I have had many of them. The first time I attempted to I was eight. I woke up in the middle of the night. At this time I was being malested, my dad just died the year before. And I was kidnapped and malested the same year my dad died. My dad beat me when he was alive, I have many scars from him, all his children do. I woke up and started crying, hated living. I couldn't take it, so I went into the kitchen, I grabbed a knife it was one of those rugged knives. It was duck taped to the handle. I put it at my stomach, I kept saying to myself, it may hurt, but afterwards it will be all over. No more pain. So I raised the knife up above my head and said do it, just do it. So I let my arms drop, heading towards my stomach, and I stopped, cause I was affraid. I don't remember if it was fear of the pain, or of dieing. But I stopped. Every other time, I tried I stopped. The last time when I put the razor to my wrist and cut, but not deep enough cause of fear, that was the farthest I had ever gone. I realized this time that it really doesn't hurt that bad. So now I am affraid of how far I will go, cause the pain doesn't scare me anymore. So I told my sister a little about how I used to beat myself, cut myself, and I told her a little about how I tried to kill myself, but I never told her about the last time. I haven't told any body. I feel that people my stop talking to me, or either send me away. I don't want to go see some doctor. I will admit I would like to see a therapist, if only it didn't cost so much. I won't pay a penny. Not one. Not while I am tight on money. So now who ever reads this is up for the part as my therapist. Or either I can just vent on this blogging. I feel better, I feel a little bit of release. And that's what I need.