I don't have anything left, and I myself am without worth, without value. Unable to prove anything at all.

I'm throwing up so frequently that I can safely assume, I think, that I wouldn't be able to hold down a bottle of tranquilizers long enough for them to work... No IV syringes, so I couldn't administer the pills a different route. I want to go to sleep and not wake up.

It started out with lots of vomiting and then mother and I fought and... I don't know. She started with the whole "Your friend wouldn't talk to his mother that way" and I sort of let it slip that I think his mother is *insert expletive* I managed to control myself enough to not say that it's because she sexually abused him but... Extremely inappropriate of me either way.

I just can't... All my friends are male, basically, because it just sort of worked out that way. My mother always wants me to feel humiliated in front of the males I misbehave in front of. My ego kicks in right away and my emotions shut off and I get really insensitive and ruthless because if she knew I perceived what she is saying the way that I do, then that is perverse and disgusting.

What I'm going to say next is fucked up. I'm having thoughts coursing through my brain about having a male, just anyone really, come over and treat me very rough and selfishly, so I can pay off my debts of the humiliation I deserve to feel with physical pain instead of hurting feelings. I wish I could barter all my feelings of worthlessness for physical pain.

But also about the tranquilizers, I'm afraid an overdose death would possibly make me violently physically ill and I can't imagine feeling any sicker than this, and I'm also emetophobic (fear of vomiting) stemming from my pain disorder and an incident that happened when I was about 13. I can't physically tolerate illness.

I'm also relapsing and I can't stop. I want to be worse of a drug addict but without having to steal or risk jail. I want my entire body to be covered with deep, deep scars and lacerations without any consequences. It's all a fantasy of swimming neck-deep in my vices without inhibition, but when my depression kicks in and my mind's walls are triggered, I act on it a lot less passively than normal. I don't want attention. I want to be in a room alone with everything I love about my self injury and pills and none of the shame, sickness, pain-in-the-ass messes.

Everything just seems unbelievably bleak. Like being surrounded on all sides by brick walls. I was sober for almost two entire months and the anxiety was life-crippling. It was the hardest thing I've ever done in my life, I don't honestly believe I can do that again, or inpatient mental health treatment, but this is becoming quite unbearable as well so it's neck-and-neck. I don't want everything to be perfect, if only for a moment. I want things to be blissful and easy for a split second before they crescendo into something more workable and bearable.

Also... I can't trust the mental health system. The places I was in last time (about 2 months ago) were hellholes, seemed dangerous, chaos and noise were EVERYWHERE and it was a constant anxiety-spiking assault on the senses, and there was no adequate help. It was the hardest thing I've ever done because everything I gained from the experience came from within, and I almost couldn't take it.

I don't know anymore. I want to go to sleep and I want everybody to go away.