It was a great day.

From start to finish.

Honest.

I made gyoza for my friends birthday and my family.

I went to my friends birthday.

Had fun.

Made a fimo turtle named Tobi.

Watched Sense and Sensibility.

Got home and was in a good mood.

Then my parents confronted me.

They were mad at me for not contacting a potential employer right away. I know I made a mistake. I told them so. I even explained it and they were like "you're right. That's exactly what you did wrong."

And then they wouldn't leave me alone. And I got mad.

I screamed at them, but I don't remember what I screamed. I had anger ringing in my ears, quite literally.

I slammed the door on them twice.

It would have been fine if they had left the first time. But they didn't.

Instead, they came in and took my laptop away. So, no more chat for me. My dad doesn't get back for four days and I can't confront my mother about it.

I can't, because my mother started shaking her head at me during our conversation, and then I was angrier. I said something vicious to her. I was right up in her face. I had to back off because I was imagining slamming her head between the door and doorway, I was imagining wrapping my hands around her throat and squeezing until her head popped off, I was imagining shoving my hand into her stomach and ripping out her intestines. I wanted to rip off her pretty little ears, shatter her shitty teeth, break her nose and crush her precious glasses. I wanted to smash her collarbone with my fist.

So I had to wait until they left. Then I slammed my face into the bed and jacked up the music. It didn't help.

I got onto my bed. I hit the wall multiple times. My hands are kind of bruised. I cracked my head against the wall. I think I gave myself a minor concussion.

I can't help it.

I was angry.

I always have a last resort.

It's the fastest way to come down from anger for me.

I started laughing hysterically before I lunged across my bed to get at it.

I took an exacto knife to my inner forearm. I never scratch hard enough to break skin or leave marks. But I fucked up. I made another mistake.

I dug in deeper this time. It's in my arm. It bled a little. It won't leave marks. It won't scar. But it hurt, and was sweet ecstasy against my skin. A small searing pain.

Of course, it takes a while to kick in, so I made a couple marks on my stomach too. And this morning I considered what it would feel like to see my stomach cut open and bleeding all over the kitchen floor. I have to stop that. That's not what I want. Not really. I just want pain to stop the anger.

I have to.

I can't be hitting my mother. Then my father would hit me. Then I'd go crazy.

I can't do that.

Though the hospital sounds lovely right now.

I didn't want to wake up this morning.

I want to get into a fight. I need to do something. Something to make the anger go away. It made my teeth vibrate, my head buzz, and it makes my hands ache.

But I didn't know what else to do.

I cried a lot. Screamed at my parents and sobbed like crazy. After that I couldn't speak well.

I scared my sister when I went up to get polysporin. I showed her. She thought I was trying to kill myself. I wasn't. I was doing it all for my mother.

It's always for my mother.

I don't want to hurt her.

I don't think.

Oh sweet release. It still stings. I want the marks to go away, but I want this sweet pain to stay.

But I'll try not to do it again.

I promised. Or I tried.

By the way, I'm going to Adrian's tomorrow. I guess we'll see what happens.

Oh please never let me wake up again.

My head hurts.

I want someone to love me.

I want to die.

I can't hurt anymore.

Don't let me wake up tomorrow.

Don't let me exist another day.

Just turn everything off.

It hurts.