Dear Diary:
Today in Gotham Park I saw a father pick up his daughter and swing her around. That painful twinge hit my heart. I felt so miserable. Both of my fathers had disowned me multiple times for things I hadn't even done. Do you now what its like? Because I do.
Do you know what its like to feel so out of control. Or screaming and throwing things in a fit of rage because your so mad that you feel so incredibly miserable and no one notices. No one knows you or cares enough to see your faking. Realizing you can do anything and nobody would ever know. Not being able to sleep because you think too much about how you've fucked up or you have nightmares that seem too real and when you wake up you wonder if maybe it was. To be so upset all you can do is sit there and cry with your hands glued to your face with tears dripping everywhere. Eventually you finally pass out from gaping for breath and give up and just lay there on the floor. To wonder if its worth it, if your worth it. Panicing when your scars start to fade because they are the constant reminders that you dont have anyone except yourself and thats ok. Promising yourself this is the last time you'll punish yourself for your sins and mistakes. Sweating your ass off because its hot and your wearing long sleves and pants because you have no self control. Sneaking in the bathroom during the last five minutes of class and slicing anywhere you can reach because the girls are spreading rumors, your failing classes, and when you get home it'll be an emotional battle. Trying to come up with places to hide your collection and accessories while maintaining enough supplies to keep clean. Laughing at thte thought of trying to explaine the cuts and scars. You can say almost anything so long as its not the truth an thats all people need to continue about their day. You feel like such a failure and dissappointment to everyone and deffinatly yourself. You feel like you deserve it. You need it. It makes the emotional pain stop. It makes you quit thinking. It makes the nightmares go away. So you dont have to feel so bd about shutting everybody out. Because thats hard. To know your pushing the people you care about the most away because you know the looks they'd give you if they found out. To look at someone who knows and say, "im ok". Which to any cutter means, im worse. Please help me. Make me tell you. Make me know you really care. Help me get through this no matter how hard it gets, for both of us. Be there no matter the time I happen to break down. Teach me not to shut people out when i really want to let them in. Ask me why. Listen to my reasons and not judge. To know my triggers. Be that one person who knows everything about me so i dont have to keep hiding things. Who will humor me when i have my bouts and nearly relapse. But then once you've calmed down, you either get better for a few weeks or wake up and realize no one will ever read this, no one will ever drop so low as to help me like i need it. Everyone thinks your fine so you go back to the mentality that you can do this all on your own because this was just a mental prep talk to yourself and your still the only one who's truely there for you. Always have, always will be. And so the cycle continues.
I think Bruce and Dick know. The few times ive stayed at Wayne Manor ive heard both of them. The Batcave isn't fully sound proof.