Pretty hurt

I think about death a lot. I think about how beautiful it would be once it all ended. I am to weak to do what needs to be done though. So many conditions would need to met. I am so close though, so close to being free. I am already alone. I am a burden to everyone. My daughter needs a better mother. I am such a shitty friend.

I like hate. It aids in the process. One of these days I will be free.

I told my daughter I wanted to be a flower. They are fragile but powerful. I hope she will be ok when I am gone.

Just need that final push.

That one special thing to make it all ok.

A touch strange

I hear voices but not what you think. More like whispers really. A buzzing that doesn’t really seem to stop. Almost like my mind is made of glass and someone is stuck inside of it. When it breaks I get locked inside. The voice is in control and boy do they love it.

It can hurt but it is a good kind of hurt. When I am in control is almost seems like it isn’t really me. I can feel things but occasionally it is the othet voice who feels it for me.

These voices are my friends and enemies. They do not want to hurt me but they do. They give me the best nightmares.

I know it doesn’t make any sense but it’s true.

These voice give me choices that leave me in dispair

A statement

I know to learn how to forgive myself for my mistakes. To not let all my flaws get to me. I know I allow them go control my life and it starts to effect that of my daughters.

I love her so much and I can see how my mental disorder is taking a toll on her.

I need to learn how to forgive myself before it is to late.