A/N - If our Medic wrote in his journal as an adult, it's possible he kept one in his younger years...
Look, I just need to get the words out. I don't think I can keep going like this.
I hurt. I don't fucking care how cliché that sounds.
All in all, this is all going to sound like bullshit. I. Don't. Care.
I just need to put this down.
So.
I feel like shit. I can't stop myself from thinking of all the things that can go wrong. All the possibilities, all the worst things. I can't stop thinking of suicide, of killing myself off this earth. I can't stop thinking of hurting the people that have hurt me. Don't worry, you'll hear all the details soon enough.
Everything drives me crazy now. What will happen? What if I say the wrong thing? What about them? What if?
I don't even know what they are - panic attacks? Anxiety? I don't know but they happen more and more. The tickle in my stomach and the faster beating of my heart that happens whenever I even get the thought of speaking up.
I want to die. I'm a kid with the thoughts of a mother. I worry too much, I stress too much. I think about hanging myself or tying something around my neck so tight that I cant breathe any longer. There's no real reason. It just keeps happening until I am fully ready, although not prepared. It makes me just sit in silence and despair.
I picture killing people. I think of cutting them apart, slicing them open, watching them die. This isn't normal. And I like it. What I don't like is how I grit my teeth and clench my fists to prevent myself from punching someone. I have to restrain myself. Why. I'm a fucking kid who wants to torture people. This isn't normal. I want to see someone who hurt me bleed out and suffer and cry and scream.
Whenever I think of hurting someone, I want to hurt myself. I want to slice my wrists, to feel the pain I almost inflicted upon someone else. It's only fair. An eye for an eye, even though I never had the chance to rip out someone else's eye. And it's bad how I find this sad, that I didn't have the chance - as if I would have if I was able to - to hurt someone. See, this is why I want to hurt myself. I deserve it.
But no, I don't cut myself. I hold myself back. I starve myself instead. I eat enough that my body is satisfied but not enough that there won't be any gnawing pain in my stomach. No one can see it. No one has noticed. It's… Nice. I like it. I deserve it. It's almost like karma for what I've done, but I am the dealer of it. I control it. I can stop it or start it at any time. With a bit of timing I can completely control my body. If I can't harm others, I might as well experiment and harm myself, right?
People are ruining my life. They cluster the silence and ruin my work, my life. I can't deal with them. I have no knowledge of social activity and how to interact with others. I come off as needy or stupid or too quiet or too loud. There are too many things that can happen to my social standing during these moments. I can fall from the top or be boosted up. I don't understand it and I don't care. I'm better off alone anyways.
I'm better off alone. Ha. That sums up my life, doesn't it? Alone to speak, alone to think, alone to write. Alone to suffer. Alone in general.
That's it for now. It's time for bed and I would rather sleep than continue whatever this is. If this is me now, I'd hate to myself as an adult. If I make it that far, that is.
Goodbye, Journal. Goodnight.
-J.