Why is it so hard to stay off of sex dating sites?

Life is only funny beacuse it is so bleak. I'm on the egde with no one to pull me back in. No one knows what is happening to me because no one craes to find out. They don't even look at me. I really am a yellow raspberry... I need to cut again. I cut somepoint around my birthday, before it sometime. It's left a big scar across my right wrist. I blamed it on the cat. For some reason I even made it a point to show it to my mom, while blaming the cat, but I showed it to her. Is this some pathetic cry for help? If is it, it went unheard. I can't figure out why everything hurts so much. I'm leaving on the first of September. I'm anxious and completely terrified. I keep thinking that Amherst will make me change. It will make me lose weight, and it will make me be more social, it will make me more creative, it will make me alive. I don't know why I am so departed from reality. The only reason I feel that I am almost completely over him is because I have a new obbsession, one of fame that I will never meet, let alone actually talk to this person. I always do this. I never realized what an imagination I have. I spent most of today just thinking up situations that I want to live through, but never will. I can whatever I want when I close my eyes, but what good does that do me? I'm so completely pathetic, and as said, it's funny.

I wish I had a third nipples just so I could get it piercied.

I'm scared. Very very scared. We're leaving tonight, or rather tomorrow morning. The gray hound doesn't get to the station until 2:30 am. We get there at 11am and can't check into the hotel until 3. Too much to think about. Three days into my future. What the fuck am I doing?

As it should be, I suppose, I have fallen back into my hyper-addictive behaviors. I used to do it all, but now I just eat. I eat and grown and become less and less. The sickest thing is that I'm figuring out how I can fall back into other such behaviors. I'm finding places on my body that I can harm secretly. Without a sex life I don't have anyone that sees me naked, and i never wear anything less than long pants and a long sleeved shirt, even in the summer. I'm moving to New York in August. I'll be sharing an apartment with some girl I've yet to meet, but that won't be an issue. I can cut my arms again if I'm not home. Jesus, that makes me so excited and anxious and happy to think about it. I just feel so fucked up sometimes and apart from one cigarette, that I couldn't really smoke due to lung damage, I haven't done anything in a very long time. Now no one loves me in such a way that I would feel guilty about this. That was the thing that made it so hard! I needed it, but if I did it I would feel so guilty and confess and them feel worse cause he would always get really upset. He even cried once. Yes, this is bad and yes, this can hurt the people that care about me and yes this is selfish behavior, but I need it. I never admit to needed things, cause most things I shouldn't need to have or do - but I need this. I'm not stable anymore. I scare myself more and more with just the passing thoughts that go through my head. The things I've written here are insane! I can't get help. He tried helping me, and he couldn't, so he left. I'm unreachable, but it doesn't matter because soon - every soon - I can make myself okay again.

I tend to open my eyes and I on occasion close them again, but I feel like I haven't been awake in two years. I miss it.

I figured something out yesterday as I sat in the grass by my apartment and smoked a cigarette for the first time since November. I had just come back from an award ceremony where I had won some bullshit we all love you award and got a pen. Nothing so great considering I sat through another two hours after my name was called comparing myself to every other person that won a better award than I did. I don't know why I do this. I should have felt at leats okay about getting a bit of paper with my name writing all pretty and such, but I just felt belittled. Then I decided to breathe and allow the cold grass to calm my skin. I think too much. I realize I will never be able to be completely loved by anyone because I can never give completely of myself. I can't give what I don't have. I'm a fragment of a person. I don't know what being whole even feels like anymore. I live through the ones I love, and when they leave me, and they always do, I lose something of myself. I don't know how to take back what I have lost. I need to figure out who I am, what I want, and what is wrong with me. I am just so tired of falling asleep every night feeling comfortable with the possibility that I might noy wake up the next morning. All I want back from him is the one thing he can't give to me.

I have a plan. Mind you, this is coming from the recent knowledege that not only is he fucking someone else, he is telling someone that he loves her. Loves her. At this point I'm fine with any judgement on me. Yes, I am pathetic. Yes, I need to forget about him. Yes, this is adolencent. I can't just move on though. I don't want him back - that's not it at all. I embedded so much of what I was in him. When something bad would happen, it was okay cause someone loved me. When I fucked up and drank or did pills or smoked or cut my wrists, it was okay cause somene loved me. Life just made sense with him around since he was around when it was most chaotic. He was there when she was gone. How can I replace what he was to me. I thought I meant the same. I was there when she died. How can he replace what I was to him? He drove me mad, but he was my stability as well. I don't love you anymore, but do I still need you? I hate, but do I still need your words in my ear and you hand on my waist. He makes me feel like a child. I follow the gossip now and i have my friends sent me the aim conversations they've had with me. How did this happen? I never needed anyone, but now've I'm become some crazed stalker type. Who is this? I just want to forget about you, but you won't let me. You continue to exist. You continue to love, but no longer love me. You can have what I hated now. Even without you I can still be the cunt. I hate sex. I hate sex. I hate sex. I hate sex. I want to feel wanted. Sex is the quickest form of gratification. Not only does that person find me attractive, but I made him cum too. It's a god damn accomplishment. If he wants to play this game, I can play too and i will make it hurt more. I wouldn't fuck him, but why not a stranger? I'd fuck anyone right now just to feel like I'm not left behind. I'm not defected. II don't understand the emotions I feel after making a guy cum, but only drugs and abuse feel better. I can't do those things anymore, but I can suck a cock. I might hate myself more, but I might feel okay again. This is the worst plan ever isn't? I think I might go on and do it anyway...

I HOPE THAT EVERY TIME YOU FUCK HER YOU SCREAM MY NAME

I had a dream last night.
It involved my ex-boyfriend (not the recent asshole),
his bed,
and a blow-up doll exploding at the end...