A Shell of Who I Used To Be

I've got no finals left to take. I'm done. But why doesn't that excite me?

I was in a good mood today. I woke up at 8, it's pretty much my last day of school, and it was pouring outside. What's not to love about that?
So at first, I was just happy. I went outside and I played in the rain. I jumped, I ran, I walked, and I got soaked. I loved it. As soon as I came inside, I had to go to Sociology. So I told her that I was at school, and I went back outside. Not like we were doing anything. I got even more soaked, but I didn't mind. Then came time for the Chemistry final. I went in there, intending to take that final. But the more I sat there, the more I knew I wasn't going to. So I got up and I left. Just walked right out of the classroom. I know it wasn't the smartest thing to do, but I guess I can't change it now.
Which, as it turns out, I'm fucked anyways. My teacher actually called my grandma. She told my grandma that I walked out of the classroom, that I hadn't taken the final, and that I wasn't going to pass her class. She also told my grandma that if I turned in 5 assignments, and went in tomorrow to take the make up final, she would help me pass her class. Or I guess that's what she said. But I don't know.
I'm just empty. I don't want to pass her class, I don't want to turn in the 5 assignments I don't have (Because I only have two missing assignments), and I guess I just need to do this. I need to fail her class, so that I can punish myself.
This is killing me. Literally.killing me. I used to be a great student. Then I started getting worse. I can't do that. I need to be as close to perfect as I can, be as good as I can. I can't fail. It's just not an option....
Except it is. Because I am failing, and I just can't do anything. Here's the proof. (I apologize for them being sideways... I didn't have time to edit them.)

This was my Freshman Year. I was a good student then too. That was the time I got my very first C. I had never gotten anything lower than that before, and it was in Government. I don't know if you can read that, so here's the grades I got. I'll post them twice. The first letter is what I got first semester, the second letter is what I got second semester.
Algebra I - B, A
Digital Photography - A
Earth Science - C, A
English 9 - A, A
French (one semester only) - B
U.S Government (one semester only) - C
Orchestra - B, A
That C in US Gov was my first C ever. It killed me. Even then, I wanted to be perfect. I knew I could be. If it weren't for that C in Gov. But even then, I had a 4.0 GPA weighted, and a 3.9 unweighted.

This was my Sophomore Year. Right about when things started slipping. I tried to keep them from slipping, but I guess I didn't try hard enough. Here's my grades:
Biology - A, A
English Honors 10 - B, B
Drama (one semester only) - C
Geometry Honors - C, D
Lifetime Fitness (One semester only) - B
US History Honors - B, C
Spanish I - C, B
The D in Geometry killed me too. As well as the C's. I still had a 3.3 GPA though. So it wasn't all bad, though I knew that I was slipping. I didn't believe that I had a problem, and I was determined to get them up. When I got my final grades at the end of the semester, I can remember just going crazy. To everyone else, I was fine. To everyone else, everything was okay, and I wanted to do better. But I think that's when my "barely there" eating disorder started getting full blown. I think that's when it all started..

This is from first Semester this year. The second category has no grades, because they are still in progress. So I'll just post those down below, and you can witness my downward spiral if you wish. Even more.
Algebra II - A, C
Chemistry - C, F
English 121 - B, *
Psychology (One semester) - C
Sociology (One semester) - B
Spanish II - B, B
World History - C, C

So there you have it. I went from being a straight A student, to now barely passing my classes. The asterisk next to English 121 is because she hasn't graded my final yet. So I don't know my grade there, but I don't think it will be all that great.

I can't believe this. I can't believe that I ever let this happen. No wonder my dad hates me. He sees that I am not what I used to be. He knows that I am no longer me. I guess I can't blame him.

I just want to cry. I want to cut so that I can feel something.

I never really feel anything anymore. I feel numb a lot of the time. I feel empty, not here. I don't mind the numbness, really. But.. sometimes I just need to know that I feel.

I think that's the only thing that I ever really enjoy anymore. I enjoy hurting myself. I enjoy the pain, the razor. I enjoy seeing the scars on my body, because they are a reminder that I still feel. I don't want to give that up. If I do, then what will I have left? Nothing.

I don't want to be me anymore. I hate everything that I can possibly hate about myself, and then some. I don't want to live in my body anymore. I wish that I could cut deep enough that maybe, just maybe, I could step out of this world, or even out of me, and become someone else. Anything, anyone but me.

I see other people, some of my closer friends, going down this path. The Eating Disorder path. The Ana path. I try and try to tell them not to go there, but I don't know what I can do to make them stop. I don't know what I can say. I know that I'm a horrible person for that. For wanting to and probably turning my back on them when they need me. For not trying harder to turn them away from the path that has destroyed me. For wanting to walk away, rather than watch them go down this path. I just don't want to feel responsible, I guess.

I'm really crazy. There are dark twisted things in my mind, dark thoughts that just eat at me. But I know better than to admit them. I mean, I admitted that I'm a cutter, and look where that got me. So I guess I'm just going to have to keep them inside. I don't want you guys to think I'm crazy, not that I even think I have the courage to admit them. If I did, then it would make everything real. There would be no more denial.\

They show up on the lines on my body, all the time. When those heal, there are always new ones to take their place, but even then, the scars are my memories. I don't ever want to forget this. I don't ever want anyone to ever try to make me think that I am okay. The scars on my body prove otherwise.

There is no erasing this.

It is forever me.

My past is always going to haunt me.

There is no way out.

The razor is the only thing that can help, the only thing that lets me express the pain inside.

People may think they understand, but I don't think that you can. I don't feel like anyone can.

There's only me.