Something to tell me story of pain...

So what if i sit in my room all day and do nothing but think about why no one wants to hang out with me and why i look so fat if that scale says 108.
And what's up with you mom?
Ever since dad died all you do is sit on the couch and drink. Not fruit punch either. It's that hard stuff. The stuff that you would never touch. remember all those Christmas parties where you wouldn't even take more than two sips of champagne? Of course you wouldn't. Your too DRUNK to remember. But what...Theres a way i can settle this. All i need is something sharp. Something that could tell my story not with words but with pain. Pain that couldn't hurt much more than what I've already been through. Ouch. Now it's bleeding. I'm crying. Why is this happening to me?