i’m siren calling the wrong one (somewhat of a vent)

episode 3 of me trying to give pete wentz livejournal entry vibes by being vague and fucking sad

mx. emotional dysregulation went on a fucking joyride today. cried 5 separate times in the span of 10 hours (edit; 6 times in the span of 11). hate myself again. thought about the boxcutter on my desk.

and i wanted to cry / but i won’t do that again

genuinely at this point i’m only not giving up on everything and barricading myself in my room with snacks and drinks and missing school and falling asleep without ever waking up because of him.

also the fact that i see MCR in two months. but it’s mostly him.

he doesn’t know me, though. probably never will.

i live in delusion.

give me another reason to want to run

i wish i knew what was wrong with me.

why am i so much slower and weaker than everyone else? why am i always in so much pain? why do all the popular kids in my class think i’m fucking weird? why do people always try to take advantage of me?

why am i so fucking sad all the time these days for seemingly no reason?

i’m supposed to finally be okay. i have friends who like me, i’m doing alright in school, i have coping mechanisms, i have support systems, i have activities and hobbies outside of school, i’m losing weight, i’ve got so many exciting things coming up.

but somehow it’s not enough.

i wish i knew why.

i roam the coast alone / and it never lasts long, but i never come home / can’t remember where to find it / every single light has left me blinded

i don’t remember the last time i felt at home with myself.

for as long as i can remember, it’s been surviving, not thriving.

so many people who i trusted have hurt me that i can’t even completely trust my own friends.

i guarantee, that if there was a door to my heart, and someone opened it, there would be nothing.

i gave so much love away to people who didn’t deserve it or give it back.

and yet, somehow?

i still have hope that those people will grow and learn from their mistakes.

i’m always searching through / but i wish i could say for who

it’s for him. all for him.

again, he doesn’t know me.

but i don’t even know myself.

so, i try. i try and i try and i try, and will keep trying until i finally dig myself out of this fucking hole i’m in.

just for him.

i don’t know how to be without somebody to follow

-c