Tuesday, 27 July 2010


Fuck everything.

I was on the bus and an old Indian guy sat next to me, fine. He started brushing my leg with his, okay that could be just the reality of a packed bus. I moved as close to the window as I could get and he started stroking my leg with his finger, underneath my bag, not fucking fine.

I get off the bus in the city that I truly despise, because he lives there, lived there, all those fucked up nights of booze and beatings, I am back there again. It hurts again. Bruises, blood, puke, booze, name calling, taunting, hands all over me, drink drink drink.

I go and get a massive tattoo that took a couple of hours, it hurts like a motherfucker but I don't care. I need the pain. I deserve the pain. The pain in my head is too much to bear without some kind of physical at the same time.

I get home and tell my parents. They couldn't give a shit. My Mum said 'well, what do you expect if you wear shorts like that!"

I was getting an ankle tattoo for fucks sake, and I am wearing tights, it's not exactly like I have slut written over my boobs. Maybe I just have it writen over my face.


I want to drink. I want to cut. I want to take all the tablets I have.

I can't cope.

I am so angry and hurt and livid and messed up and chaotic.

I probably won't do anything, because I am a coward, too much of a coward to go jump off a bridge or in front of a car and fucking end it once and for all.

No, I will just sit and stew and hurt and cry and drink myself to oblivion.

Because that's what he taught me and by fuck did I learn well.

1 comment:

  1. Emma,you need someone on your side.
    You need someone to fight for you.
    If I was stronger, I would.
    Go to the GP, discuss your options.
    Personally, I believe you need to be IP to stand a chance out of that.
    And that doesn't mean you are not good enough, it means you are struggling.
    Use your friends, someone, anyone...
    You need HELP! And NOW!

    I am so sorry about that awful man.
    Love you ♥