I'm just a scared, immature, little girl.

"I want to punch a tree, break myself. Hurt myself.
I haven't felt this way in a long time.
A long time.

I want to feel loved, love myself. Embrace myself.
I haven't felt that way in a long time.
A long time."

I'm hanging my own noose here. I'm punishing myself. I don't understand why! Why do I hate myself so much?!
Everything I do... every single God damn thing I do.... I regret. I drank that soda, I lost my daughter, I ate. I didn't take my medicine. I slept in. I couldn't sleep. I let myself love. I didn't let myself love. I want to cut. But I didn't cut. I went out on a limb. I fell. I tried. I didn't try hard enough.

I continuously fail myself. I fail my daughter.
No body in my family sees how hard I try. How much I kill myself. No body in general can help me. I want help. I want someone to completely genuinely understand. I want someone to talk to me, have all the right things to say.
I don't want to be so needy. I want to feel emotionally stable again. I want to UNDERSTAND MYSELF.
I want to disappear. Why is it so hard to become a good person?

Fuck.
I'll never have a chance.

Dear Santa... could you please come in September this year?

To Whom It May Concern:
This is too much to handle.

I need:
My permit
A bike
A camera
Conditioner
Cover letter
resume
references
a cell phone
An anonymous donation of 1,000 dollars made out in cash on my doorstep.
Laundry needs to be done.
Clean out motor home.
Organize boxes.
Decide what’s worth taking.
Regret leaving what I don’t take.
Find a studio apartment in Portland, or a roommate that will accept 495.25 cents a month for rent and utilities since that's all the money I'll be getting a month.
Oh! But let me live there for free the first month because I don't get 495.25 until October 20th, but I'm moving to Portland September 19th. >.>

That about covers it dear Sir, or Madam.

Sincerely,
12 Days Left