Sep 30, 2016

FROM THE BLOG DIARY OF EMILY HUNTER

Entry #5: July 30, 2013
Not sure what to say.  Not really feeling it.  It’s been a rough week.  Work sucks.  These meds make me feel like shit.  I don’t have anyone.  Fucking bored.  My mom is once again all over my case.  Fucking done.  There’s your entry.

E  

Entry #6: August 4, 2013
Alone.

Alone.

Alone.

No one gets me.
No one wants to.
No one should.

Alone.

This mind in my skull hates me.
Poisoned.

My own worst enemy.
My own best friend.

All alone.








Leave me alone.  

Entry #7: August 5, 2013

Fuck this.

I am so fucked up.  So stupid.

Why a I even writing this?  WHo fucking cares? 

I’m so numb to it all now.  Its all the same, over and ovr.  I should just jump in front of a bus.  Maybe it will work this time.

Ok, I’m not going to kill myself.  Don’t read that Dr. Harper.  I would have delettd it if you’d fucking let me.

But seriouly what’s the point?  Do you want me to write his just so you can write a paper on it or some shit?  This isn’t helping.  I can fel it coming again.  I know how this works.  They’re telling me something.  You won’t listen.  You never listen.  They want to tell me soemtihng.  It sounds like theyre screamiung.  Now.  They’re screamimg.  ITs too loud. I hate this i hat.

its all wroing.  its on the tup of my tonge and i cant hear it.  these meds are Stopping me teyre killing em .  you aren;t helping.  you never help./  ARE OYU LISTENING NOW?  I TELL YOU THIS EERYTIME AND THEY WONTS TOP.  THEY WONT STOP THEY WONT STOP THEY WONT STOP.  SHE NEEDS TO SHOW ME sOMETHNG

is ee her now..