Dear Diary,
I hate myself. It's already 3 am and I haven't been able to sleep, maybe I shouldn't have drank 3 cups of coffee.
Everything is normal for the past couple of months. It's been so long since I had an episode.
I went to the bathroom and after I peed, I suddenly remembered it. Him. The man who gave me my first and worst trauma.
I broke down. Alone in my cold and dark room. Face flat on my pillow so no one would hear my cry.
I couldn't breathe. I couldn't think straight. I couldn't erase the scenario in my mind. It just keep on playing over and over again.
I feel disgusted. I felt dirty. I hate myself.
Sincerely yours,
Zhax
YOU ARE READING
Dear Diary
RandomThis isn't really a story but I will be writing here whenever I had a breakdown or depression is killing me. Feel free to read if you're also struggling like me.
