But it's okay. It's okay that I don't feel anything anymore. It's okay that I lay awake every night, wishing I was never born. It's okay that everyone hates me. It's okay that I hate myself.
It's okay that I think my waist is too fat. It's okay that I wish my thighs were way smaller. It's okay that I think my legs are big. It's okay. It's no one's problem. I deal with it.
I deal with it through weed. With vaping. With my knife. Sure, they're not 'great coping mechanisms' according to my therapist. But it helps. For a little while, It helps till I have to do it again. So I do. It's not a big deal. It's okay.
My therapist, Eli says I need to 'get out more'. I do get out. I walk up my driveway to wait for the bus, I go on runs. I 'get out'. Eli says I need more time off my phone and more time with my friends. Jewels and I went to a party last week. Sure I left early, but I still went. Me and Zeke went out to eat two weeks ago. He had to leave before our food even came, for an unknown reason. But I still went out.
I'm not okay, but it's okay
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I'm Not Okay, But It's Okay
Teen FictionYou don't know pain until you're staring at yourself in the mirror with tears streaming down your face and you're begging yourself not to give up and just be strong. Just go back to normal. 𝙏𝙝𝙖𝙩 is pain. ⚠TW⚠ drugs, depression, eating disord...
