TRIGGER WARNING.
August 25, 1999
Today I got my schedule for my classes in the mail. Everyone called to see which classes we have together. After that, I was in a really depressed mood. It was pretty random, actually.
I guess I just realized that I am an extremely fake person. I find out what people want me to be, and then I be that for them. I don't even know who I really am. I was so upset that I started crying really hard.
Then I went into the bathroom and slit my left wrist with the razor I use to shave my legs. It hurt a ton, and so I finally stopped. It wasn't bleeding too badly, so I put a couple of band-aids over it and went back to my room where I contemplated my fake life.
After dinner, I went online and confided in Tyler about it. I don't know why I told him - I probably just wanted the attention. That's the only reason I do anything, anyway. Here is a bit of the conversation we had:
Tyler: why did you do it?
Me: because I am very fake
Tyler: holy shit emily. you aren't.
Me: You wouldn't know, because I'm fake around you.
Tyler: how do you mean?
Me: I find out what people want me to be, and then I act that way for them.
Tyler: Like, how do I want you to be then?
Me: You want me to be sexy. And you want to be smarter than me.
Tyler: first of all, I don't WANT to be smarter than you... I AM smarter than you :)
Me: lol
Tyler: yeah I knew I could get you to laugh. so what stopped you?
Me: the blood was kind of disgusting
Tyler: holy shit. never do that again. because i was thinking how friggin sad i would be if you weren't like alive
Me: well I don't want to DIE.
Tyler: well you're like my best girl friend. I would be extremely sad.
YOU ARE READING
The UnSlut Project
Non-FictionI was the 6th-grade "slut." And I kept a diary. So I decided to create The UnSlut Project in the hopes that my own diary entries could provide some perspective to girls who currently feel trapped and ashamed. I am publishing these entries one at a...
