Ambivalence...

I am right now. I don't really feel anything about myself. Which is, actually, worse than when I hated myself. Because I had some feelings to work with. But now, there's nothing. And it's ridiculously hard for me to start feeling something from nothing.

I feel like how my body looks doesn't matter. Which is good. But then I feel so out of control whenever I eat anything. And none of it really makes any sense. And there are still times when I look in the mirror and hate what I see. But it's almost a detached sort of loathing.

My grades: I want to do better, yet don't particularly care to. Because, of course, none of it matters. Again, retarded.

I want to cut, but only to occupy myself. It gives me something to do, and is such a sublime feeling. Actually, it's just the fact that it's a feeling in the first place. And since I'm aching to feel something, anything really, it would be so nice.

And just my life in general. I don't care what happens with it. I just want something to happen.

I want to give in. I want to starve myself, cut, burn, drink, do drugs, lose myself. Hopefully some combination will kill me.

Hopefully. Hope: that's the only thing right now: the hope that I will feel something that will be enough to make me care, enough to make me see that I don't care, or hoping that something will kill me so I don't have to go through anything else again. I see myself at serious risk to start participating in those reckless actions typical of the average borderline. Earlier in the school year, I had already hit the promiscuous part: I had sex with Michael, David, and Jonathan all within the same month. None of which I was in a relationship with at that point. I started smoking weed again. I'm manipulating people. Driving recklessly. And I have this strong urge to start doing drugs again... if I was given the opportunity, I know I would in a millisecond. I cut again today. I want to burn. After I post this, I'm going to go outside and smoke. Smoke and sit and think. A bad combination. All I ate today was a hamburger and chocolate malt. and fun dip. You can't live off of that. no one can... but I think that might be the point. If I can't feel anything, I don't want to live. I mean, really, what's the point?

But it's retarded. I don't want to die: I want to live. But I guess it feels like I'm dead right now, I feel dead, so if I feel dead, I might as well be dead. But whatever.

In any case, I guess I'll go on living for now. By living I mean breathing, thinking, pulsating with the medical definition of "life." But definitely not my definition.

But since when did anybody care about my opinion anyway?