mymelancholysoul

Thanks for the replies kidlets =) The whole....foot in both doors concept is intended. I'm quite the indecisive person when it all comes down to it. The Kurt Cobain reference goes back a long ways and a few close friends understand the meaning. I don't want to go into detail, but there is a purpose. This piece wasn't really meant to be negative. Its just me, lol, and I get a huge kick out of reading it. As for a title...I was thinking: -Seventeen or -This Space For Rent I don't know, for some reason I am having a tough time titling this piece. Odd. Thanks for the comments and criticism. If you have anything else you would like to say, post it here or just PM. ---Nicole

I was born Nicole Though they tend to call me Nikki Did I mention I hate that? I like to be different But everyone different Is exactly the same I'm sixteen No, seventeen One year older One year closer to death Just like Kurt Cobain Or maybe I won't end it all I don't have a gun anyway Someone once said Ignorance is bliss Maybe they had the right idea We should all walk around With ears and eyes covered This way when I screw up Like I always seem to do You won't notice or care If nobody could stop me but me I probably wouldn't care what you think But I do And you love that power Why do I have to be Proud to be an American, Where at least I know I'm free? I'm not free You aren't free either Your a slave to society and media Not that I'm any better They call me an aethiest And an anarchist Maybe they're right Because I don't think with the whole I don't pretend to care People die Thats life Move on with yours If you know whats good for you You know whats good for me? Not Chicken Soup for the Soul Chocolate My friend, my enemy Just like my scale I hate this look If I were a model Id be anorexic If I were anorexic Id probably have better things to do Than write this Because then Id be cool I hate that word Who's cool anymore Well obviously not me Or even you for that matter Were losers Thank God But I really don't believe in God So why am I thanking him Mysteries of life Just like ghosts I wish I were a ghost I wouldn't waste my time Haunting people like you But you aren't a waste of time Not really any way Your so cold Keep your hand in mine Those are words to live by I live by myself In my own little world Thats in my own little head Where no one pretends Its magic I love magic No, not that card game The real stuff Like doves and velvet hats Exploitation of magicians Must be hard to make a living nowadays But what would I know about living I'm just a kid And life is unfair Not that life's supposed to be fair People who think that Need more help than I do I don't really need help People just think I do Even I think I do But life isn't that crumby In our family portrait We look pretty happy Too bad photographs aren't real Then maybe I would have something To smile about for a change Change Money I need money I could get a job But I don't have the time I have plenty of time And no time at all The world is so confusing I wish I were Alice, Then I could live in Wonderland And caterpillars would talk to me And flowers would sing Like being on an acid trip Not that I would know I'm a good girl I don't do drugs But I would I would do LSD I only drink Who doesn't love something Stronger than chocolate milk We don't even have chocolate milk Just chocolate drink Which is gross by the way Thanks a lot mom This world is so commercial Everything is plastic And were all going to die Wurtzel is my Goddess God is Dog just spelled backwards Someone was real clever with that one How am I supposed to follow Someone who can't spell their name right This is so confusing Just like shoe laces And candy canes The stripes The madness Now everything is spinning Have to stop popping pills Not those kinds of pills, silly I already told you I was a good little girl Next thing you know Ill be on the floor Saying redrum over and over again Yes I'm that crazy Looney Batty Off my rocker The lights are on but nobody's home THIS SPACE FOR RENT Story of my life Everyone selling themselves To society While I sell myself Like an over-the-counter drug Take me as I am Don't crush or chew me I'm the best pill there is A straight shot A quick swallow No pain involved No title as of yet

You and I could sit here...for the next two years and I don't think I could get everything out. Its everything and nothing all at the same time. Its...nothing other people havent dealt with. So my mother never wanted me and my dad ignores my existence. So what if I was molested twice and looked at as a freak becauase I cant trust people. So what if nothing in the world gives me any happiness and I cant even feel myself anymore. Its depression, thats life. Its me being a failure...thats what it is. Its everything and nothing and the lack of feeling alive...Its more than what I said but nothing I care to describe.

I thought If I just said it, then I could stop it. Like I could write down these magic words and my fair godmother would appear to take away the bad. I don't want the help that doctors have to offer...Ive been there, thanks. I want it to go away. People think I want all of this...attention and pity but I don't. I could careless if people read this or not; if people noticed or not. Its like...I had to say it to make it seem real. Im sitting here with razors on one side and bottles of pills on the other. And even though the light is on, the room feels dark and heavy. Its like...its not real. Like Im standing outside myself, seeing this girl and saying, "That cant be me. Im not like that. Im strong...Im a viking....Im stronger than this..."

I dont know why Im posting. I already tore apart my wrists and sitting here bleeding without a care. I have my bottles sitting in front of me. Remeron, Wellbutrin, and Ibuprofen in 800 mgs each. I want to waste away. I want to be nothing. I want to just be dead. I dont want attention. I dont want help. And I dont want people asking me questions or telling me Im a failure or destroying me with their words. The door is locked, the bottles are open, my wrists are bleeding. -holds head and cries- I dont know what to do...

Katherine, I am so sorry I scared or upset you. I had...no idea you were following my posts on here or RYL. I can't even imagine what kind of person you think I am. You mean so much to me and I have never, ever fought with you about anything. I am so...thankful I have you as my friend. I don't mean for these posts to scare or worry you. I never knew you were apart of either site. I'm so sorry for how I have been acting. I know I can talk to you, but sometimes...Its hard for me to talk things out with the people I know in real life. I hate feeling judged or guilty and hate putting pressure on my friends for how I act. Im sorry...Im so sorry.

So being in theater and choir and running and doing loads of extracurriculars isn't doing stuff? It is. It isnt that easy...please dont act like it is. I do stuff all the time...doesnt make me feel any more or less alive. I knew I shouldnt have posted my ramblings -wrinkles face- Oi

I am not alive. Or at least, I have not felt alive in many years. Remembering the last time I even....felt much of anything is difficult. I wake up every morning and...exist. So whats the point? I understand and know how pointless suicide is. I know it is a permanent solution to a temporary problem. I will not sit here and write a suicide letter or say how everyone will be sorry when I'm gone. I doubt people would truly cry because I know they expect these feelings of me. But still...the temptation...its nail biting. I sit here and stare at the walls and want to just...seep into the paint. I want to be gone and forgotten....like I never existed. -sighs- I ramble too much....I need a coffin....

She said she would never leave She said she would never go She said I was safe beside her She said I was better off alone She said I would win the fight She never mentioned what It would cost But then again, It was only my life I gave her my soul on a silver platter And sealed it with a crimson flow I sat alone on a white tilled floor Waiting for her to hold me close She never came to my home She never held me close She never mentioned what it would cost But then again, It was only my life Her promises came and went Much like the many years Each passing day brought little hope Each night brought bright red screaming In the midsts of all my anger Through the shadows of all my tears Her voice would ring out on high And say we were in the clear She never mentioned how much it would cost But then again, It was only my life She lied to me and I to her We gave our word of secrecy She said she would never betray me I swore to never admit the pain But to keep this all inside To pretend and fade away Did more to me than she will ever know Sometimes she was good Other times she was bad The only thing that stayed for certain was She never mentioned how much it would cost So yeah, its not my best work....and I hope not my worst lol. I am still working on the title and maybe even the wording...Enjoy or not, its all up to you.

That would make...such a perfect and beautiful song. I hope to hear more of your wonderful work in the future... -->NikNik

Last year at a in school practice for the Shakespearean Drama club play, my friend Matt told me I was so beautiful. Mind you this is after a full days work under stage lights, a thick velvet dress making me even hotter, and my hair so frizzy it looked as though we had been in the rain. I came off stage looking and feeling gross, he slipt behind me and while giving me this huge hug said, "You are the most beautiful person I have ever seen..."

She's a broken record That repeats herself Over and over Day after day Though nobody knows She claims to be fine She laughs Smiles Grits her teeth And bares it Though nobody knows Cuts trace a map Of veins on her wrist They are the roads to recovery Paths of darker days Though nobody knows Bathing in silver moonlight With shadows on the wall She sits alone Thinking Weeping Trying to breathe Though nobody knows White tiled bathrooms Stained in crimson glow Are paintings of her pain Though nobody knows On the windowsill she sits With eyes open wide Legs dancing and crossing Swaying and swinging Hands rest on the lap And over she goes A smile on her face Though nobody knows When daylight doth break And the door creaks open They'll suddenly know That She repeated her words Faked a wide smile Traveled the map on her wrists Sat alone in the night And painted paintings Of her pain.

I'm not trying to do this as a turn on, sorry darlin. I could honestly care less if some...male saw me as attractive or not and on the female front, if she doesn't line my being thin, then I guess were going to have issues. Avman, Thank you for the sound advice and yes, I know I have an adult body. I am doing this for me and no one else, just me. I have been thin before, then things happened, and I found comfort in food. I am so....disgusted with myself and I know that if I don't lose this weight, Ill be miserable. I want this, I really do. I want to be so close to perfect it hurts.

I weigh in the 140's now and am....about 5'5", maybe 6". Losing weight drives me isane sometimes and then I have people criticising my calorie intake for the day. I try to keep between 100-500, no more than 500. I know I can do this, I know I can. I have come...so far in these past few months.

They say ED are forms of self injury, so I think adding this piece on here will be alright. If anyone else wants a ED thread, PLEASE contact the moderators. The more interest there is, the more inclined they will be to add one. I gained...three pounds. THREE. I can't...bloody believe this. I have been working so hard and the week that I start to take a small break, I gain some of it back. At this rate, Ill be lucky to hit my short term goal by late october. The short term is 105-110, the long term 70-80. If you think there is something horribly wrong and want this board deleted, then by all means do it. I don't need everyone breathing down my back about how stupid I am being. I am the strong one. I can resist the temptation of food. I just...hope there is someone else on this site that I can talk to. -sigh- A few comforting words would help. Tomorrow I start a water/juice fast for the next 14-21 days. -sigh- If I made a part in the fall production and I'm this fat...Ill die.

-sigh- I know and I am sorry for seemingly defensive and snippy. Beec, I am really...really sorry for snapping at you. Its...wow I don't even know why I did. I guess, I don't know, I am so used to hearing people say nothing happened that I am taking everyone that way. I am so...sorry for getting heated and yes, I know he is trying to help and I honestly do appreciate it. I honestly...want to go into counseling but when I told my father he never mentioned it. I even asked about it, but the man never brought it up. I had to write it all in a letter because telling an adult is beyond difficult to do. -sighs- I'm so sorry for getting angry, thank you for replying.

-hugs- You have amazing talent and I am very sorry for your loss. You are in my thoughts, I promise you this. Please continue writing, even if your work is based on the tragedies of life. Your gift is too beautiful to be wasted.

Beautiful....positively beautiful and moving. This poem....wow....it really ran deep. -is in awe- I wish I just had half of your talent.

As the subjext says, I am trying to figure out why my mother can't love me. I know this sounds insane because most parents love their children. Some of you are going to say, "You're just misinterpreting her; she really does love you." Or, "You're only sixteen, you don't understand what youre mother is dealing with." When I say my mother cannot love me, I mean it. I realized the situation a few months ago but was too afraid of admitting it to myself. For the past six or so years, my mother has become distant and cold. She drinks more and more and is often angry at me for little or no reasons. When I get a B on something, my mother says it should have been an A. If I tell her my aspirations, this is my last year of high school, she tells me they are unrealistic or that it is pointless for me to dream. My mother can barely stand to look at me, let alone be in the same room. She walks away when I come downstairs and even stops listening when I start talking. When I cry, she can't seemed to find it in her to comfort me. My mother bashes my fashion sense, regularly calls me over weight, and has, on many occasions, said she would take me back if it were possible. My mother also did these things to my sister but rarely becomes upset with my younger brother. Before you say it, no I am not imagining things. She tells my brother that he is doing wonderful in school which makes me question if its something about my sister and me. I know my mother wanted boys and not girls, but has she really lost her maternal instinct? What did I do to make her so upset? How can I change so that she will love me like I once remember her doing? I just want my mother to say she loves me, to respect me, to want me.

I have been molested more than once. I never said no. I showed signs of discomfort by trying to get off the bed, crying, and curling up into a fetal position. They never stopped. She said no and I don't care what his story is, I don't care how horny he was, it doesn't matter. When a girl says no, she means no. She doesn't mean, oh its okay...keep going...it means to stop. Maybe it isn't rape but what he did was wrong but not stopping at her saying no. I'm sure he has a story and thats good for him but NOTHING justities someone not stopping when you say no or show signs of distress. He should have listened and he should have stopped no matter how horny he was. It doesn't matter what she was saying no to, whether it be the pain or not wanting it anymore. NO MEANS NO! I'm sorry If I am sounding like a ranting 16 year old, but I have been sexually assaulted. You can sit an argue that I wasn't or that she wasn't, but it doesn't change whats in my head. She said no and I tried to get up but was forced back to the bed. It may not be the exact definition or rape but honestly, when a woman says no she means business.

The pain becomes so unreal after awhile, so superficial. It cuts to the core and burns you alive but it feels so...good. It hurts....it hurts like mad but after awhile you enjoy the pain...its so physical...

To Beec... Do you know how hard it was to even breathe? Let alone say no or stop? I couldn't even muster the courage to speak. I tried to get off the bed, I moved and squirmed and I cried. You are a male, so if a girl was doing what I did, wouldn't you take a hint? If she tried to get up and you pushed her back down on the bed and got on top of her, isn't that wrong? I guess..it just isn't. I need counceling, I know I do. I just....-sighs and walks away-

The reasons for cutting are difficult to explain. Some cut to feel, some cut to breathe, some cut to have a real pain because the one inside seems to be so unrealistic at times. Some start because of stress or abuse, while others just don't know any other way to cope with their surroundings. I cut to break the insanity that runs through my mind. I cut to make the pain inside me go away. I cut because its the only pain I can control. I cut because I am lonely. I cut because I am scared. I cut because I cannot feel.

I don't think that its right to say it wasn't rape and that it wouldn't take her this long to figure it out. Alot of woman don't know what constitutes as rape or molestation and assume that what happened was natural. Many go through depression, blame themselves, see the truth, and have an epiphany. Others don't even want to admit that they were sexually assaulted. Morally, it was beyond wrong but legally, its a hard case to try. -hugs- Darlin, I know how it feels when people don't have full belief in what you say and I know how it feels when the conclusions are drawn and the truth comes out. If you ever want to talk, please do not hesitate to contact me. I think that what he did was wrong. You said No and he didn't listen and thats wrong.

Lol its you again! -points a fake accusing finger- Well, you know my take on this. I am a cutter and I happen to think its wrong. I mean, I know how stupid and dangerous it really is and that there are other ways to cope, but cutting appeals to me. Like you, cutting makes me feel alive, it helps me breathe. I know I need to find another way to cope because the two ways I cope now are just not working. I have been ANA for quite some time a cutter for nearly five years. I blieve that cutting is the wrong way to cope, but thats just me.