I literally cannot breathe.

I AM SO ANGRY!!!
I am angry because my asthma SUCKS, and I CAN'T BREATHE!
And I'm angry because I'm SAD!
Because I miss Warren
And because, more than anything
I MISS FANCY.
I need her.
When I think about that she's gone, I lose my breath.
I don't know what to do.
I don't know how nobody understands that losing her literally broke me.
I don't get why I still have to deal with this alone, in silence.
It literally makes me want to stab myself through the heart when I think about that she's gone.

And those two specific people who called themselves my "friends," and yet abandoned me through her passing.. I cannot put into words what I think of them. I had trusted them. I NEEDED them. I have never in my life witnessed such selfishness.

"I would have stayed with you, but it's just too depressing" - that's what she said to me the day I found out that my best friend was going to die.

I WANT TO SCREAM!

I hate butterflies.

   No blog views today. I wonder how someone markets their blog? All the billions of blogs people write, how should I suspect that mine will acquire followers?

   Anyway, I suppose I was pretty good today. I still have no energy - which is probably linked to my asthma being god awful lately, I bet I'm just not getting enough oxygen to be energetic. I didn't really even want to self harm today. I tried the "butterfly project" idea, where you draw a butterfly wherever you like to self harm, and if you can manage to not injure yourself there until it washes away, then it's like you let it live its life.. something like that. So I have a butterfly on my wrist. But I think more so than wanting to let that butterfly "live," I just suspect that an open wound on a sharpie drawing might wind me up with some funny coloured scars. If anyone really knew me well enough, they'd know that drawing a butterfly on myself is a red flag - I hate butterflies. Everyone thinks they're beautiful, and sure, their wings are nice, but they're really just big, gross bugs.

   Warren changed his profile pic on facebook. I miss him. Still trying to wait for him to text me, I hate not talking to him. Well, in his new profile pic he's wearing the 2 wristbands I bought him a while ago. I doubt that means anything.. but I like it. At least he doesn't hate me, right? I mean, I sure wouldn't wear something that someone I hated gave me - it'd make me think of them. I just want to be able to talk to him.

Resisting

   I hate the idea of the scars - they look horrible right now. I feel like I've made myself really ugly. The ones on my wrist aren't as noticeable, the ones on my leg are really disgusting. They're purple, and huge, and really don't look like an accident. I don't know how I'll ever look pretty in a dress or skirt again.

  And yet, I keep really wanting to self-harm. Ever since I cut with a razor blade, and it cut so deep, I've really wanted to do it again. I like the look of the blood. I like challenging myself, knowing that it's going to hurt but seeing how hard I can press with the blade without wussing out. But mostly, I like the blood. I keep trying to find things online, like Dark Cut 2 (flash game) where I can sort of satisfy that desire, but it doesn't really work.

   I watched Wrist Cutters: A Love Story the other day. I loved it, but I am warning you - it is *VERY TRIGGERING*. I've watched it almost every night since I first saw it. Aside from the very beginning, which REALLY makes me want to cut myself, it makes me think I might not want to kill myself. Just in case it's true, and the "afterlife" is exactly like this life, but shittier. And in the end, it evokes the idea that living is nice.

   Something else that was bothering me today was that I remembered that when I was 15, I said to myself that if I still felt this way by the Christmas of my 22nd year, that I'd off myself. I'm 22, it's Christmas, and I still feel the same way I did then. So, I don't think I want to kill myself, but that's still incredibly discouraging.

   I also dreamed about Warren last night, and we were happy.

   I'm just so sad right now.

   Finally someone from RecoverYourLife.com replied to me. She said she'd send my message along to the people who can do something about me not being able to register, and asked what was bothering me so much. I told her I love cutting myself, and that scares me.

Setting up

 SONOFABITCH!!! This took a long ass time. I had to re-sign up for google like fifty times cause I wasn't receiving the "change e-mail verification" email, and didn't want the same email address that my mother has scrawled at the top of this blog.

 This added to being kicked off Onision's stupid forum, and not being able to join the recoveryourlife.com forum and I'm pretty fucking fed up with signing up for shit right now.
 Oh, and it's 6:30 am. Fucking brilliant.