It's been six months. I really haven't been counting but I've just remembered. Part of me wants to hit myself silly and the other half of me just wishes I had gone through with it, be it for the better or the worse.

But throughout those six months, I've met with several people saying that everything's going to be okay. I've been in several 'social' groups too. But I don't think we'll ever be okay, maybe there will be a day where the sun will blossom with ephemeral light through the trees and I'll (and everybody else) will be okay. 

And maybe it's because everything still hurts that I think this way, but I've always been like this (as far as I can remember). Last week, I was taking my meds in the bathroom and one of the teachers walked in on me taking them. I felt utterly violated and humiliated and I wished I hid in a stall that day. Instead, my teacher said that she was happy to still see me fighting. I guess some people do care. 

But then there's this insensitive prick who I do consider to be a friend, but his words really get to me. He told me that I should go die because I cut. Yeah? So what, a lot of people do. For different reasons, actually you little piece of . But short story short, I ended up kicking him where it hurts and things weren't very pretty. I've skipped school for like 3 days now? I feel bad for kicking him, but he really does know how to push my buttons. He says that he was joking, it wasn't funny joke.

Since I don't usually wear jumper for work and my scars aren't healed, some customers look at me weirdly and I have to smile. One time, this random said, "Just live because you'll regret not living."

I've admired her words and cherished them. I'm going to try to get better because there are people who do care. I do have many stories to share but my brain is fuzzled and I need to go out for an appointment now.

I guess I've been holding this in for too long, I just needed to get it out where nobody knows me.