Fuck this shitty ass life

I don't know what to fucking do anymore.  I went to my therapist today and we talked about me doing the partial hospitalization program again.  I really want too.  I talked my way out of it the last time because work wouldn't give me any hours.  But this time I would tell work that I need the hours and work me almost my normal amount of hours.  But my husband doesn't like that idea.  He wants me to get a second job to help the money situation.  True the money situation is my biggest stressor, but  shouldn't my mental health come first?  I don't know maybe I am wrong.  But I think getting a second job might just make things worse.  They haven't called me back anyways, so why sit and wait for them to finally decide to call me.  They prolly won't anyways.  I am sitting here cutting myself with a damn kitchen knife.  Ok I can't really consider it cutting it is more like cat scratches.  But I can't believe that my husband would say that.  It's totally fucked up.  I just wish I was fucking normal.  I hate being the crazy fucking bitch.  fuck this life.....

I hate myself for everything........

I haven't written in awhile, but I thought it was about time that I started blogging again.  I need to get my feeling out.  Who cares if no one reads this, at least I got it off my chest.  Maybe one person will read it and not feel so alone.

I don't know why I am still here.  At the end of May I tried to kill myself.  And it epically failed.  All I accomplished was a stay in a Psychiatric Hospital and then a partial hospitalization program.  Now I am behind on all of my bills and I just want to die all over again.  Money is my biggest stressor, not my only, but definatly the biggest.  I have fucked myself over so bad I don't know how my husband still wants to be with me.  I don't even want to be me.  I am having the hardest time.  I went one week without cutting and last night what do I find myself doing?  Cuttting.  I was so proud of myself.  In the past I didn't have a hard time refraining unless my anxiety was super bad.  I would go months without it.  But ever since May I have being doing it quite often.  I even did it when I was in the hospital.  Not the smartest move, but I wasn't in my right frame of mind at the time.  I promised my Psychiatrist that I wouldn't cut, but I blew that.  Squeezing an ice cube isn't the same as seeing the blood.  I self injure because I feel like I deserve it.  I don't do it for the pain.  I do it for the blood.  It makes me feel better ahout myself even if it is just for a short period of time.  I am feeling suicidal again and it scares me.  I wasn't aware that I was trying to kill myself the last time.  I was disassociating at the time.  But the few weeks before that I had kept a self injury log and now I realize I had alot of suicidal thoughts and I was self injuring everyday.  I don't want to end up in the psych hospital again.  It wasn't a good experience.

I am thinking about calling my therapist, but I don't want to bug her.  I just saw her yesterday and I don't want her to think that I need to be inpatient.  And I don't have the money to see her anyways.  I know that isn't a reason not too, but in my mind it is a great reason.  I know they would let me pay at another time, but I just feel ackward asking them to let me do it.  And what can my therapist do anyways?  Absolutely nothing.  She can't fix me.  I have to fix myself.  And I don't even know if that is possible.  I don't know how.  I don't have the skills.  I have way too many negative thoughts to get out of this vicious cycle.  I think I may just need a labotomy, but I don't think I can get one.

I just want this pain to end.  I am tired of living this fucked up life that I have created for myself.  I am isolating myself.  I am not talking to anyone.  I feel like all I do is annoy people.  Why would people want to be around me?  All I do is bring darkness to everyones life around me.  It's better off if I just stay away.  One of my friends want me to come over today so I told her I would if I was feeling less depressed.  But she must be tired of my shit because she didn't ask what was wrong.  Not that I would have told her, but still it would have made me feel like someone cares about me.  I made plans last week to hang out with a girl I met at the partial hospitalization program, but there is no way I can go.  I hope she doesn't text me and ask what's up.  What would I say?  Sorry, but I am really depressed?  Fuck that.  I didn't really want to hang out anyways.  She was way to eager to find out when we would hang out.  She didn't want to talk about anything else.  If I said something else she would ask "when are we hanging out?" and just blow off what I was talking about.  I don't think she really wants to hang out I think she wants me to be her taxi and I don't have time for that.  I am not going to be used.

I am a fuck up, a failure, a piece of shit.  I just want it to all end.  If I were to die today I wouldn't care.  Maybe a house will fall on me and it will be the end of all this pain.  Too bad this isn't OZ.