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Dear diary,
Its been years since Evie and what we did together, I hate to say it, but I think of her a lot, I miss her. I really do. Every time I take the bus I think of the nights we would sneak out of my house or the hours we spent down Melrose doing something we shouldn’t of done. After she left I couldn’t stop what she started, all the drugs and alcohol were the most difficult addiction to break.
Mason never looked at me the same after finding out just how bad things actually were. He knew I was breaking laws and I was fucked up, but he never knew how bad it truly was. All mason does now is try to make it up through faked niceness, I know he tried but he treats me like I will shatter if he looks at me to hard, or relapse on everything and more if he says something wrong [I probably will relapse but he doesn’t need to worry, not like he can help it’s too late for that].
Mum worries nearly every day that I will relapse, and I do. I’ve gotten good at hiding my red eyes and my sleeves sticking to my arm, so she doesn’t monitor me all the time like the first few months after she found out.
I see Evie’s face in the scars running up my arm and the plates of food I don’t finish and the fresh joints and the strangers in my bed and water sprinklers, reminders of me at 13. My biggest regret was wanting to fit in, because at the end of the day I was fucked up, she just made it worst. Honestly, I can’t blame 13 year old me and you forever we were just two mentally ill kids trying to take control of our lives in the only way we knew how at the time. Its no use to stay in the past.
I have had to repeat a year and I’m still behind, I have no friends now [except my mums nail scissors]. Mums had to call dad multiple times when I relapse and I have to get sent to the hospital, dad doesn’t help, never did never will never has. Mums not scared of me anymore, but our relationship has changed and I don’t think I can see it getting better with time.
After Evie left eating got difficult, 1 meal a day and it never usually stayed down for long, it took me years to eat ‘normal’ again. I don’t recognize myself any more, and I haven’t for a while, I’m sick of lying and relapsing and crying and purging and cutting and self-sabotaging and one night stands, I was never like this, I never wanted to be like this. I’m forever mourning what I could have been if I never talked to you. I could have been so much, I wasted all my potential just to be popular, and it only lasted for a few months, if that.
All the fucked up shit I saw and all the fucked up people I meet so young will never leave me, and I feel bad for all the young girls like me who will forever be hooked on drugs and alcohol to live, everyone was just a little kid once.
Because of the memories that resurface wherever I am in this shitty town, I’ve tried to kill myself a few times. I ended up in a mental hospital for half a year because 3 times trying to kill myself is ‘concerning for a 16 year old girl who hasn’t wanted to be here since 12’. It was difficult, like everything. So many girls like me were trapped there as well, pale white snakes all over their arms, they got fucked up to young. All I did to get out was to act like I was healed even though deep down I know I never will be.
I miss you Evie you fucked me up and I pray to a god I don’t believe in that I will never see you again but yet I miss you.
-Tracey F