Pairing: A/J most likely.
Warning: Self-harm, language(possibly), and possible future suicide and/or suicide referances(depends on my mood).
A/N My mom’s letting me use her computer for the time being so I can publish this! Thank my mom everyone! Anyway, the keyboard is really small so there’ll be more tyos than usual. Oh and, she apparently doesn’t own spell check either. (Cr*p) Anyway, ON WITH THE DIARY FORMAT SELF-HARM!
12/20/09, 0600 hours
It’s hard. Dealing with guilt, I mean. Everything was so simple when I was younger. A hack here, a theft there, there didn’t seem to be anything wrong with it at the time. All I was doing was what I was taught to be okay. How was I to know it was wrong at the time when it was all I knew?
Then, slowly, I escalated. It started with the Exstinconists deal, then the fairy kiddnapping, and it grew and grew from there. A consounce doesn’t stop me from doing this- I snicker at the thought. How could it? All it does is cause more and more guilt to build inside me.
I suppose I should say why I’m even writing my most personal thoughts in this Godforsaken diary where anyone can see it right now.
Well, Mother seemed to notice something was wrong- how I’m not quiet sure considering I have kept my many masks -and asked what was wrong. “Nothing.” I said, hoping she would not press the subject. “I’m just tired. Insonias been hitting hard.” I attempted a smile, but I feel it came out as more of a grimace.
She stared at me, tryig to see through the mask. I suppose she succeded (partialy, anyway) and saw the guilt of past deeds eating me away inside. She had brought me into the bedroom, we had a nice, long chat with me flinging out the exuses as they came to mind, and in the end she told me I needed to get my supressed emotions out. I scoffed mentally, already having a release she knew nothing about, although the one I have chosen isn’t exactly ‘healthy’.
She slowly walked to the nightstand and pulled out a book. It was plain and simple, the red leather cover shinning in the dim light. She handed it to me and told me to write down everything I that was troubling me and that no one would ever read it.
That was two weeks ago.
My release just hasn’t been doing the trick lately though, which is why I’m even writing this down. I still worry that someone will find this though. Holly, the twins, even Butler finding my most personal thoughts would be disatarouse. No one needs to find this or help me. I’m perfectly fine dealing with this on my own thanks.
But then again, am I really? It’s all building. Not just guilt either. Self loatheing, anger, depression, and so much more. Even trying to get it out I feel myself reaching for my desk drawer where my release waits for me.
There is no savor on the horrison for me, only pain. Nothing can stop this now, and that may be what I fear most. But is it? Or is there somthing else, lurking in the shadows, waiting to ponce? I pray to God that is not the case.