Hi,
I'm Kialie.
I hate myself.
It all started when I was seven. My mom was always home late because she spent most of her time out with strangers getting drunk. I don't have a father. He left when I was six. He abused me. So did my mother, and she still does. I cut myself. My mother gives me little nicknames. She never calls me by my name. She calls me things like worthless, mistake, idiot, disaster. I am an only child. I am sixteen now, and my mother ignores me. She brings home someone new every night. I haven't had a real birthday in five years because my mother ignores it. And that's my story, but it doesn't matter, none of it. And neither do I. I have anxiety. I am depressed and I have trust issues. And I want to die. I have tried to kill myself once but stopped myself. I cry myself to sleep because I will never be good enough, and I starve myself because I'm to fat. But none of that matters. This is a story about a guy named Jesse. He was the only one that said he would be there for me, that he would never leave, but I let him down. I hurt him. He loved me but he was never mine to have, because I pushed him away. I hurt him.
And now he's gone........and it's all my fault.
