And I quote...this is why I was silent for so long.

"What'd I do to you?"

~Him.

 

"It wasn't molestation, you teased him."

~Mother

 

"I don't believe you."

~Everyone.

 

"I don't want my daughter pregnant! If she gets pregnant, you're taking care of the baby and I'm leaving."

~Father

 

"It wasn't molestation because I know you liked it."

~Mother

 

"You're such a fucking whore."

~Everyone.

 

"Come on, why are you backing away?"

~Him

 

"Why are you pulling a knife out on me, I'm not doing anything wrong."

~Him

 

"Why'd you cut yourself? You're so stupid."

~Brother

 

"I thought I was your favorite machine? ;)"

~Him

 

"I swear she told me she loved me."

~Him

 

"Let me."

~Him

 

"Why do you want me to stop?"

~Him

 

 

 

Why do you think I waited a year to say anything?

 

Because I knew you wouldn't believe me,

just like the last 2 guys.

 

 

 

 

 



ANXIETY.

Why can't you get the fuck out of my life

Whenever there's a situation I don't know how to solve you come to me with shaking, nausea, tears that I won't let come out, and this weird feeling throughout my body. It feels like I need to yawn but I cant and that feeling is just killing me.

If you ever come and walk up to me I have to stop what I'm doing and take a break or else I'll have a really bad Anxiety Attack. And once that happens its hard to stop.

You're interfering my life and making it a living hell. It's hard to do anything and go anywhere because of you.

Fuck you.

Sam

You were my best friend.
But you were never there when I needed you.
I was always there for you, but you wouldn't even listen when I tried to help.
I believe you DO have problems.
But, after you went to the hospital and got this shit checked out
and you told me what you "have"
I just couldn't believe you.
You told me you had like 10 different things.
I've tried, and I've tried to help you.
I tried to guide you to a better being.
You just would not listen.
You broke that trust that I had for you.
I...
I don't want to type anymore.

Raymond & Katarina

Dear Raymond,

It's funny how you think I'm the one in the wrong.
I knew I'd never ever date you. You split up me and the love of my life. You called me names, you told me to eat shit. And may I say, you are the most dramatic person I have ever met. Now that I have another class with you, it's difficult to not get up and beat your ass up. You were the one in the wrong. You flirted with my best friend right in front of me, and she took it. You are a downer, you are never positive. I'm never positive either, but I don't agree that I'm a downer..


Okay, peeps, I told my bestfriend I didn't want to be with this dick head because of what happened the night of a football game. He flirted with her, and I realized that I don't deserve that.
I told her not to tell him.
She did.
So there must've been something going on between them, or she wouldn't have.
But I'm glad she did.
I hate that man.
He completely went actor on me on my birthday. "Happy fucking birthday" then walked away.
OH. Because that hurt you more than it hurt me.
It really did. I don't give 2 fucks about you.


NOOOWWW,
Katarina!
Raymond's ex-girlfriend
In which, completely controls him when she's with him.

Now that I switched from AP Euro to World history
I have a class with both of you.
And oh, how great it is.
Mostly that you two sit right next to eachother.
And somehow, Katarina gets to grade my paper every time.
And I see you two giggling, like you think what you put on that paper hurts me.
I fail tests because I'm not used to the fucking class,
I DON'T KNOW AS MUCH AS YOU BECAUSE I HAVEN'T BEEN LEARNING THIS SHIT.
AND let's not forget, that I'm still used to AP Euro, and I feel like all the questions are a crap-load of trick questions.

"You're great!"
"I'm your favorite person! CB Katarina"
Shut the fuck up.
Obviously 7 out of 15 isn't fucking good.
"You're great!"
SHUT THE FUCK UP.
I am so sick of your laughs
why the hell do you think the teacher makes fun of it!?!


it's so hard to not get up and punch both of you in the face.
Fuck off.

Marcus

YOU have ruined that name.
YOU have ruined and tainted my brother's truck.
YOU sicken me.

Marcus.
Fuck you.

You came thinking you could neglect me.
You came thinking you can get something.
You got something, you took my happiness.
That very last bit of happiness.

You molested me.

And no matter how hard I tried, you wouldn't stop.
I tried pulling a knife out on you, I tried to cut your hand.
But you didn't stop.
You kept trying to touch me.
You kept climbing on top of me.
You kept scaring me.
You kept grabbing me.
I kept hitting you.
I kept feeling hopeless.
I kept dying inside.
Wondering why me?
Why the hell me?
Who could deserve this. And throughout 15 years, by 3 different guys.
Yet you were the worst of all.
Sometimes I blame myself. 3 guys is a pattern.
I didn't like it.
I told him no, I yelled to stop.
And no one believed me, even if they were right there.
My brother, you, you were right there.
I hate you. You didn't help me. You never helped me.
I hurt
I see you, Marcus, at school. I clench my teeth, I create fists.
I close my eyes, hoping for the best, that you won't do any harm.
I do this because, I couldn't fight you off of me.
I'm stronger now, but.. you could be stronger.
You hang out with my group. Leave me alone.
And when no one knew about what you did for a whole year
and you were still allowed at my house
Whenever I overcame you
You'd say "What did I ever do to you"
with a smirk.
You know exactly what you did.
You damaged me.
You damaged me hard.

RUN AWAY.

Last night I was trying to go to sleep
And the dark daydreams came abruptly to my mind.
First, I thought about fire. I planned an escape. But it was hard, because at the time my puppy was in my room. So I thought I'd have to grab him too. Then I thought, I need to grab more. 
My papa's wallet I found after he passed away,
money,
a sweater,
my family,
my phone (for 911).
I thought, I wouldn't be able to carry all of these things and jump out my spider-infested window.
How could I t my family if the fire was right outside my door?
These are real problems, they happen daily to people.
Then I thought about someone breaking in and murdering my family and it seemed so real.
I feel like I heard their screams and the gunshots. The yelping from both of our dogs.
The banging on the door.
But the banging on the door was real. I really had thought someone was trying to break in now. I laid there for awhile, listening, scared. I was getting that hot feeling on my ears. I couldn't help it, but my brave came out. I got up and turned my light on, quickly looked for a weapon..
scissors. That's all I had, because my mother had taken my knives away. I went through the house shaking, but holding the scissors tight. I checked each room, I checked the doors. No one was there.
Why is my mind doing this to me?
Why is it making me so paranoid, why is it fooling me into something that isn't there. 
Sometimes I feel like just opening the door and running. Running to where ever. Running and running, but running like something is chasing me.
Because there is.
My mind is chasing me. And I hate it, it's got me by my hand. It's dragging me down.
And sometimes I feel like it's got a hold of me, but I keep fighting.
But I'm so worn out.
I just want to leave myself, it's so, so HARD.

Kick cans.

And depression isn't something you can give a straightforward answer to.
You can't ask someone who's depressed, "Why are you depressed?"
They can't answer.
There's no way to respond.
I've heard so many people say, "Sadness and depression are the same"
hell no, homo.

Sadness.. you can get rid of sadness. Something can cheer you up.
Depression is a whole 'nother thing.
You can't stop it. It's just there and it eats at you and eats at you.
And me, I have clinical depression.
I've been depressed literally all of me life. And to know that I must live with it forever
It sucks. It makes it even worse. It drags you down, and it holds you back.
Almost like arms reaching out of hell when you're trying to break free.

I made a poem. It seems so impossible for this to come true for me.

Kick cans
punch with hands
Leave and run
shoot the gun
A place to hide
hurt with knife
About to explode
pills for overdose
Starting to relax
Kill with axe
Calming down
no more frown
Feeling strong
this took so long
Standing tall
loving all
Breaking free
Smile with glee
It's all done
Time for fun.

Stop Asking.

This.

I'm sorry.

And I do.

I'm sorry, mom.

I'm sorry, dad.

I'm sorry, brother.

I'm sorry, cousins.

I'm sorry, aunts.

I'm sorry, friends.

I'm sorry

for all of my screw ups.

And to know that I'm stuck in this body

Stuck with this way of thinking

Stuck with my mistakes

it hurts.

I've hurt myself

mentally, emotionally, and physically.

And I'm sorry.

Because I know it hurts you too.

But in reality,

I can't help it.

I'm sorry.

I'm sorry.

I'm sorry.

For all of it.

                     

I'm in Here.

Sia - I'm in Here

Great song.

I'm in here.

Can anybody see me?

Can anybody help?

I'm in here.

A prisoner of history.

Can anybody help?

Hnnnnnggg.

I love listening to good lyrics.

Getting Worse

Stop asking if I'm okay.

I don't believe you're tired of lying.

I believe that you say you're okay because you're tired of people worrying.

Because your worry for yourself is enough.

You don't want people to worry.

Or at least act like you're on their mind.

Bottled Up

How fucking true is this?

Very.

I'm comparing it to when I cut myself for the first time.

I only did it twice.

I wanted people to know, because I wanted help.

And it worked.

My family found out,

which I mean,

it's good I guess that they found out..

but now they believe:

1. I belong in an insane asylum.

2. I'm fucking stupid.

I already know I'm stupid, everyone is.

But an insane asylum?

Seriously?

My mother said cutting yourself is a form of insanity.

I know.

But I don't belong there because I don't believe I'm as bad as you think.

Yes, I may have scars.

No, they don't hurt anymore.

They healed.

Except that's a lie.

They're scars because my skin closed over the opening. But I still carry on the pain.

I'm closed again, I regret telling people.

I'm shut down, and I'm bottling things up.

My family ridicules me.

I feel the hatred.

Not the hate directed to me but directed

"to what I did."

Here are pictures:

 

People clench their teeth at the sight of these pictures.

As do I.

Sometimes I regret cutting,

sometimes I miss the blood,

the sting,

the pain from my wrist and thigh that took away from all the other pain inside of me

that I bottled up.

And now I'm bottling it up,

and throwing it in the ocean.

And yet it always finds it's way back to me.

~Kali

Introduction

Hello!
My anonymous name on here is Kali
Reason is, Kali means "Destruction"
And this blog is for all those sad, depressing feelings and shit.

Pictures will be posted.

They could be harsh.


A little bit about Kali:

At the moment, I am 15 years old. My birthday is on October 21st. 
I will not mention my name, because I'll probably be posting some personal things on here.
I have not made up my mind on pictures of myself. 
It's a maybe, motherfucker. x)

Bye bye for now! :D

~Kali.