When I've gotten into my depressive episodes, I've grown comfortable in them, I have certain comfort in being in pain, in feeling sad, but of course, it's not always like that. Almost every day, I have crippling anxiety that makes it heavy to breathe each morning. It's horrible, I know... But I got used to it, eventually, every now and so, I'd feel the urge to cut myself, and cry my eyes out and let myself be seen like that, absolutely broken.
But I'm ashamed and scared of being perceived as weak, a crybaby. When I know all of the baggage I've been holding on to and how hard it is to keep to myself sometimes.
Yes, I've wanted to kill myself so many times, yet I haven't tried,
And you know why? I have my fucking reasons to not do it.
My little brother,
My dad,
My mom,
And lastly,
My best friend
They are the fucking reason for me to be alive, I don't care enough about everyone else to be alive rather than them.
I don't want my little brother to suffer more just because of me, again.
I don't want him wondering what he did wrong. Even if he didn't treat me right all the time, I knew he loved me at least half of how much I really adore and love him. He is my fucking pride, he doesn't understand how much he means to me and what things I would do just for him.
My dad... he is really something else... huh. He has always told me that I was his reason to live, that I am his pride, that he loves me to infinity and beyond, and he has always supported me as much as he could, he wants to pay for my top surgery, he wants to take me to the civil registration to change my name as soon as I am 18th year old, which will be in a few months. I can't actually understand how much I mean to him. But I love him enough just to stay alive.
My mom, she might have been a bitch to me in the past and sometimes she still is, but I love her a lot, not as much as my little brother obviously, he's way on the top 1. She supports me up to certain stage, she says that she loves me "so much" yet I don't feel it enough for her to be much of a reason to be alive, yet she still is in the "list" somehow. I have mixed feelings for her. I still have resentment.
Yet all of this, I still hurt myself, mentally and physically, the scars on my thighs are proof of that.
Update: Go to hell V, how dare you do that? Exposing me like that.
