So, this. I guess I'm only publishing this...I don't know. So if you didn't get the picture, this is not a simple story. These words you see on your screen are my deepest, darkest thoughts at my low, my lowest, my worst, whatever. I don't-...You see the pauses and dashes ane the dots, and may think I'm over dramaticizing everything, I'm not. Whatever is here, is what I am thinking at that exact moment. I'm just typing it down.

What, you wanted a story? A Book? Novel? An Auto-Biography? You could turn this to what ever amuses you. I just want everyone to know. 'Know what?' I don't know. Maybe I'm projecting, trying to get attention. Maybe I want the pain I'm feeling to be felt by others so I'm not so alone. I honestly don't know. This is me doing something about the emotion currently making me cry and want to stick a razor blade across my throat. Not really. I want to make a little red line down to the base of the back of my neck. I have a constant habit of moving my hands erratically and I feel the strongest of compulsion to strangle myself. But of course I'm to much of a coward to do that.

I really hate the pain, you know? Every part of me says I deserve to be shoved in the darkest depth of hell and- I don't know, get tortured? Mutilated? Raped over and over again? But I'm so selfish, I avoid physical pain as much as anyone does, maybe even more. It-it's just there.

Right now I'm listening to a song, called 'Homewrecker' by Maria and the Diamonds, and-...It makes me...Happy? Sad. I don't-...the denotation of Homewrecker: A person who is blamed for the breakup of a marriage or family, especially due to having engaged in an affair with one member of a couple. As taken from google. But, I don't-I see a different meaning for the word. For me, that word means 'A person of which destroys the family dynamic or home atmosphere.' My own definition of the word. The one I gave to it.

I see myself as that. A homewrecker, my version. I know where this feeling comes from though. I am the youngest sibling of three children. I am six years younger than the middle child of my family. Does anyone see where I'm going with this?

I never asked. I never got a confirmation from anyone in my life. But I think I was an accident. I don't really...fit in with the rest of my family when it comes to physique. At least I don't in my eyes. My dad left before I was born-I don't know if that was because he didn't want to stick around or because my mom didn't want him around-but sometimes I wish he took me with him. Or at least one of my siblings. They fight a lot. Not like 'petty squabbling' fighting, but like, they legitimetely hate each other. The middle sibling tried to kill the oldest when they were sleeping-with a cooking knife. And mom got re-married. Her and Step-Dad used to fight a hell of a lot when I was little, and the only reason Step-Dad stayed was because of me. om says she tries asking him to leave all the time, but she isn't really assertive with her opinions when it comes to do with anything with family matters.

The middle child down-right despises the Step-Father. They're both family right? So why should they lie to me? Well, they do. Or, the step dad does anyway. I think. He says he used to work in marketing so he knows how to 'persuade people into your own train of thought.' So step-dad says middle child is only being a rebellious teenager, while middle child says step-dad is a lying asshole who stays for the money. They both try to make me say something about the other in a negative way, but I can't. I hate them both equally, and I'm scared. I don't know why. I know they won't lay a hand on me. But I'm scared and god, I hate them both so much.

But I also hate myself. Because for every thought anything less than perfection toward the people I live with, I aim 10 of them at myself. I can't help but think, maybe it was all my fault? I'm useless. I can't do anything right. My grades are so low you can see the bottom of the ocean high above. I'm Fat. I'm Achne ridden. My hair is floppy. I have stretch marks. I have old lady glasses-as everyone related to me has pointed out when they see them. I-just-anyone, absolutely anyone with these same features are always going to look better than me because everytime I look into a mirror, it's just this hideous beast with ugly stamped to it's forehead.

It's not just my physical appearance, I'm a compulsive liar. I've lied, cheated, and stolen things. Hell, give me a gun and a douche bag, I wouldn't regret shooting all of their limbs and just to sit there next to them, watching them bleed out painfully. I've bullied and been builied and I've abused everyone I know in at least one way or another.

I don't know why I decided to share this somewhere where anyone can just click the tab here and read an angst-y child with no life, but here.

Originally, I thought about saying 'I'm publishing this so people know they aren't the only one experiencing these things.' But...That's just it, isn't it? I knew I wan't the only one to feel this way. Knowing someone out there is feeling the same thing I am isn't going to make me magically cured of any negativety. None of this is just going to go away because I did something about my emotions.

This doesn't happen often. Usually, I'm void of any thing. I don't really laugh easily, when I do laugh, it's almost always fake and no one knows because I can lie about lots of things. I try no to draw attention to myself even though I just...want to put myself out there. I'm emotionless, but then I'm scared, and angry, or envious, and then in small lapses, I'm happy and content and finally at peace with myself that I didn't do anything wrong.

And then everything crashes. I'm overloaded with absolute self-hatred and god do I just-I want to stick a knife down my throat and me strapped to a chair in a burning building. I probably pushed everything inward and it exploded, or it's just beause of me.

I don't know.

But there.

I don't want PM's or Reviews about this. After I publish this I will probably want to destroy the one thing that ever said anything true about me. This. Thing. I will regret having this for anyone to see. This is probably the closest thing to telling anyone the truth behind my attempted suicide. It's here. Exposing me.

Don't say anything.

You read it.

Just don't say anything. Please.