I pull the blade across my skin. How much longer 'till these voices win?

I wonder how deep I will get

Until I'm another person they will forget.

Up in my room more alone than ever

I just wish I was gone forever.

Worst Christmas Ever...

Now already. Somebody please kill me or I'll do it, quite soon.
All these people are driving me crazy. Mum knows exactly that I'm not doing well at the moment and she is making such a big thing about Christmas anyways, being in a fight with my loved granny is one of them.
I just can't stand these people, this world anymore.
They are slowly killing me, supporting my inner demon.
Bye.

Can't turn back now, I'm haunted.

It's getting dark, and it's all too quiet

And I can't trust anything now.

Blurry mind, blurry soul, blurry body. 

Drop dead, gorgeous.

Murder.

Suicide is a form of murder - premeditated murder. It isn't something you do the first time you think of doing it. It takes some getting used to. And you need the means, the opportunity, the motive. A successful suicide demands good organization and a cool head, both of which are usually incompatible with the suicidal state of mind.
It's important to cultivate detachment. One way to do this is to practice imagining yourself dead, or in the process of dying. If there's a window, you must imagine your body falling out the window. If there's a knife, you must imagine the knife piercing your skin. It there's a train coming, you must imagine your torso flattened under its wheels. There exercises are necessary to achieve the proper distance.

The motive is paramount. Without a strong motive, you're sunk.

Stuff going on... Something's moving, finally.

There happened a lot. I had an appointment with my therapist on monday, she was really worried about me or whatever I would possibly do to myself because I told her this "three parts"-thing (the first thing I really told her about since a long, long time). Her first intention was to directly admit me to the hospital but I was able to talk her out of it, fortunately. So I told her I will be fine until thursday, which means today. So we had another appointment today where I told her that I never wanna be inpatient in the adult-unit again. All these grown-ups, these "old people" make me so afraid. They make me think that I might never be able to make it out of this. When I see them I wonder, why they aren't happy now, why they don't live a fulfilled life. And if they didn't make it until now, how should I ever be able to do so? So then her idea was that she was gonna ask the senior doctor of the adolescent psychiatry if they would take me even though I am at least a little bit to old for the "young section". But because they already know me, she was hoping that it might work. But the senior doctor is on vacation so I need to wait 'til monday until I'll get to know anything; if I might go there or not. I told her that in no way I will go somewhere else. Either way they'll take me or I will just continue to live like that, maybe die someday through suicide, but I will never ever go to the adult section!!
And if I should be true right now, I really hope that I will be able to go there... Living makes me be afraid of life but death makes it even worse. I don't wanna die before I really started to live. So maybe this will be my last chance...

And she'll continue to smile no matter how hurt she is.