Their hold on me just gets stronger when I am alone. I don't think I will survive if my life stays as it is. I am utterly alone.

Someone end my life. Take me to Hell tonight. Just bring me Anything but this.

I know I'm not like other people, but I do need some of the social interaction they do. Being alone all the time isn't really working. I should call someone.

People keep telling me I need sunlight. I need sunlight like you need a bear up your ass. Love, Sandi.

I exist to harm. In ending it, I hurt people. In not, I still hurt them. If I end it, I will hurt people after. Prepare, friends, to have your hearts broken.

As an animal rights activist, I am not so much anti-death as I am anti-suffering. Things shouldn't be tortured. This is the misunderstood part of my beliefs.

With every page I write, I end a little of my life. But the writing is all that is prolonging it. Irony, I know, but it's an okay deal.

I can physically feel their tugs. Maybe that's just the sleep deprivation.

I almost feel bad for all those Gary Coleman jokes now... Eh, oh well. RIP Gary Coleman.

They r trying 2 pull me in2 The Darkness. I'm not in it yet. If I listen & kill myself when they're here I'll go in2 It. I won't b pulled in. Voices, talk away.

I'm not your average girl. All I want is your whole world.

I was texting & someone beside me was saying something I didn't fully catch, so I looked up then remembered I was alone. Funniest thing ever.

Maybe I am just beginning to not exist & that is why I do not know how I came to seem so real. I am just being pulled into The Darkness. I can maybe escape.

I guess fighting The Darkness is a worthwhile cause. I have faith in my false hopes. I could be real & stop not existing within It. Poison is nectar to Nothing.

I don't have fun with my friends anymore.

Skipped out on school & walked downtown today. Staying on the last day felt wrong.

I thought today would be okay. But the darkness is overwhelming me.

I don't exist. I really wish I did. The voices don't exist & I don't. It is both of our purposes to drive people insane. They are working. I wish I wasn't.

I'm a mess. I really am. And no person on Earth can or wants to help me.

You got what you wanted, now you won't bother with an attempt to make me feel better - or find out what's wrong. Ah, friendship. I just need a human outlet...

Commissioned $30 for paintings atm. Have received $5. My brain is doing jumbly things right now. I'm a little confused inside...

That giant frontal lobe and incorrect brain chemistry are probably great for the art world... I am thinking I will do that art minor after all. I'm almost okay.

Thanks to twitter, my career as an artist has really kicked off. I am selling one tomorrow and am commissioned to paint another.

Tomorrow, I beat Van Gough. Him: 1 Me: 2 Now I just have to cut off my ear. Or not. The point here being, I am selling a second painting.

Went on a 6 mile hike today. It was hotter than band camp, but it was great. I was pretty sure I would pass out, but I didn't. A little proud of that.

I have way too many hormones and a frontal lobe the size of Texas. Being a teenager is awesome. Being crazy is pretty much the same.

I don't write fiction to reflect my life. Almost never, actually. I do write songs that way. This one is called Fuck Me Or Fuck Off.

It's tough for me to have friends or other relationships. Harder to build any trust. I can't go & get a new man & new friends with ease. This all really sucks.

The flashes are coming back. How wonderful, an image of me slitting my own throat with scissors. My frontal lobe needs to go on a diet before the voices start.

Mommy & Daddy are getting a divorce. Mommy is insane, sorry kids, you will never see me again and I will probably kill myself. Have fun with your idiot father.

My boyfriend is an untalented douche. It is clear that he does not love me and I am going to have to stop feeling for him. No more dating Christian boys.

Deep down, I'm just looking for someone to save me. Preferably before the blood loss starts.

My vagina must have teeth.

Rejection: It feels great. You should all try it. Doesn't make me want to kill myself at all. I love you, babe. Can't wait to stop.

I need a boy who thinks like I do. Anyone know the number for the nearest mental hospital?

It's a little sad how lonely I am. It really is. If I had the point of view gun from Hitchhiker's Guide, there would be suicides all over & I'd be locked up.

Lol, I was watching a horror film & thought, 'Her white jacket is symbolic of innocence... & bad in hostile situations.' Lol, zombie survival + AP English.

I lost track of reality a while ago. Now the only things real things are the ones I am touching.

I give up. I am not fighting love and I'm not fighting suicide. I am too burnt out for this. Rip me apart. Do it. Just don't expect it to end well.

I am unlovable. Stephanie hates me, Jordan is gay & I am a terrible girlfriend anyway. I cause pain. There is no reason to continue this. Except fucking fear.

I make myself angry sometimes. Damn compulsive disorders. I am going to be bald if this doesn't stop. And that stress just makes it worse. I should buy a wig...

They have free counseling services @ Transy & I'll b an adult, so my parents won't have 2 be told & I can talk. The lady seemed nice...I hope I let this happen.

Tied with Van Gough - sold 1 painting today, for 80 cents. Sold it to a friend who loved it. It was just a watercolour seascape I did in a couple hours...coolio

Crying in the bathroom at my senior year band banquet. I love the way things are with me.

The more I deny something's existence, the more real it becomes. The voices are more real than people's smiles. I know they aren't, but they are.

Have been mutineed, my bf is probably gay, I think things happened that are bad that I just remembered, and I am failing classes. But the wine is good.

I am a Pirate, and it is Killing Me.

I was always intended to work the light board in our theatre. Then we switched directors.
As flexible as I am, I cannot remove the knife from my back.

It is really sad how much I love the girl who took my place. We have been friends for four years, and she willingly and knowingly stole my rightful place. Since this mutiny I have been torn between loving and hating her, a torment that has brought me to tears and agony many times.

I did not despise them, I simply quit the play so I would not have to see the people who mutineed me, going into in a self-inflicted exile. I spoke to them and made a joke contained within their script. They shunned me themselves.

They say such tears in the mind between love and hate or other things cause people to snap and kill others or themselves.
They are right.

To quote Jack Sparrow, There is a deep circle of Hell reserved for mutineers. I was not the captain, but I was captain of that lightboard. Now my lightboard has been ripped away and these unfit pirates are commanding the chip that is rightfuly mine.
I feel like firing the cannons.

Took my AP English Lit exam today. Don't know how I did, don't ask. Coming down with a fever and fairly brain dead. I want to sleep for a year or so.

I need out of the usual. I am stuck. Without self destruction, I need to do something drastic and freeing. I will break out. Or I will go insane. Onward.

Prom Pictures

Thank you for the vent...

I am wondering who reads my blog. I have not looked at it from the internet in some time. I personally would not read this crap. But it gives me the feeling I am actually communicating with people and telling them the insane things I think, know, and think I know. I really can't talk to anyone else. People suggest a psychologist when I say that, but the fact is that a psychologist is a person and I cannot get through to them. I was suicidal for a while, as I have said. I was in a very depressed state.
But I thought I was okay. Always when I had intrusive thoughts they said things like 'you should kill yourself' - always self harm. Well I am not depressed. People irritate me and I really can't do nothing. I cannot handle people I normally like. Their problems (and the talk of their problems) makes me want to either vomit or forcibly silence them. Recently an intrusive thought said to kill other people.
I am behaving in a rather paranoid way and my friends who helped me out are infuriating me. I only really have one person to whom I can talk about these things. But he has a new girlfriend and when I talk to him about these things, I am interupting his time with her and making him unhappy at my insanity. I cannot do that. I love him - I want him to be happy. I really do. It's not like I love him in the stupid high school way or the I-want-to-screw-you way, but just love in the sense that I really want him to be happy. That is all I want for him. It's not like a brother or like a lover. There is no relationship with which to compare it and I am quite sure he does not love me (although some of his reactions to the idea of the harm coming to me that my brain intends suggest otherwise) but I honestly could care less if he loves me. I really wish I did not love him. I wish my brain worked and I didn't need him. But the fact is I am ripping out his happiness and his unhappiness is ripping out my heart. I cannot communicate these things elsewhere. I cannot talk to him because I hurt him. And I cannot tell him that I love him and want him to be happy and forget that I have problems or that I even ever existed. If I could figure out how to control any of these emotions and thoughts, I am quite sure I would be perfectly happy and never have to spoil his happiness.
But I have yet to figure out how to do that.

Prom

Today was my prom.
There was a tornado watch. My boyfriend danced on guys more than he did me. I keep getting images of me killing myself tonight. I have had horrible flashes of me killing myself on prom night for a week or so. I was just a little afraid.

Our photographer was great, she was smoking when we arrived - fifteen minutes late. She made such comments as 'Wow those are some huge knockers!' and squeezed us in before the next group arrived.

I took some anti-anxiety medication this morning because I knew we would be late and I have a slight phobia of being late. It knocked me on my ass. I slept until 1 then got ready swiftly and headed to do everything we needed to do.

I had a good time. I just feel empty. Like high school is almost over and there is nothing after it. I will be away from all of my friends and life will change.

This was my senior prom.
Now what?