Eva’s Crazy Mind

but i’ll make a plan anyway (:

the nail marks on my hands. 

talked to mom again. 

or well, she talked. i couldn’t get a word out of my mouth again. 

guess what it started with? my *** arms. 

i won’t- even bother to say what she said. i’m just so done with her. 

“summer’s comings, i can’t take you to the beach with sleeves, have you thought about that?”

have i- have i thought about that? the *** mom? i-

she came back. 

compared her ‘teenager depression’ to mine. 

she has no idea how different we are. 

i want to cry, i want to laugh cause this all is just so *** absurd, i want to scream, i so want to tell her everything that’s on my mind but i know i won’t, i wanna d*e, i- don’t *** know. 

and most of all, i wanna take my little friend and use it again. which would be the worst mistake i could do, but.. literally, who cares. really fighting the urges rn. 

and you know what’s *** up? the way she makes me feel bad for wanting to d*e. i don’t even know how or why- but i feel wrong about that too now. i don’t *** know. 

big tw 

and so what if i relapse? it doesn’t matter much anymore anyway. i’m already as *** up as i could. it won’t matter when i’m dead. even though my previous scars have almost healed, really close to being able to take off those sleeves, make mom happy, i don’t care about that. it genuinely does not matter. don’t give a *** about that. it doesn’t make me proud that i’ve stayed clean enough so they would heal. almost even guilty instead. man i don’t *** know. 

not in a good headspace rn but honestly when am i ever

mom asked “what do you want me to do” i wanted to say “leave me tf alone” but ofc i didn’t

it’s come to a point where i actually can not speak when having those talks with her unless it’s a yes or no and even that is hard sometimes 

urges becoming stronger and stronger

oh she’d be disappointed if i did. and i wouldn’t give a ***.

hair tie. ima try hair tie. see if that helps. 

it’s not the same kind of pain tho. it’s not the good kind of pain. it’s not the helpful kind of pain. it might be distracting but not replacing. idk if it’s helping. not much i think. 

music’s on. vulume’s up. it’s not doing much either but it’s helping a little. 

@justmeeva   Sending you good vibes 💙

gonna go for now.

“how have you been?”

what do i say idk what to say-

i never know how to answer those questions. 

and now she plays all nice and friendly as if she didn’t just almost make me relapse.

but of course she doesn’t know that. she doesn’t understand it at all. 

remembering the time when if someone asked “how are you” i could genuinely say “i’m good”.

she just said i don’t express enough love to her. i’m sorry, am i supposed to love you?

it’s gonna be up to 25°C (77°F) on friday. sunny. we have to be outside, on the stadium, in the sun, managing a sport’s day for the rest of the school, from 8:15am to 3-4pm, depending on how long we'll take to clean the stadium up. 

idk what i’m gonna do. we have t-shirts that we have to wear but uh my arms. and 25°C.

i’m just f***ed. 

tw?

that one corner in my math notebook <3 (quality go poof)

i don’t understand how some people just have no sense of guilt- like when i do something wrong or something awkward happens, it’s gonna consume me alive and haunt me for days sometimes weeks and it’ll become a *** core memory. i-

ohh the way i lied to my dad. 

we were walking outside. 

dad: “so how are you doing in school?” 

me: “good” 

dad: “managing to do everything in time and all?” 

me: “yeah” 

😬😬😬

also i can not run. like it’s not just me complaining, i physically can not run. when i run, i run out of breath so *** fast, (tw) in some cases i actually struggle to breathe, my mouth goes dry and starts tasting like blood. 

that’s probably not good :p