I feel so odd. Drained and lifeless. What is sadness? What is happiness? I don't feel these things. All I feel is the pain in my arm. I will be forever scarred. I don't want anyone to ever cut an end up like me. I'm screwed in the head big time. I'm always tired. My life is controlled by medication. I feel like throwing up everything I eat. Water taste foul. I hate looking at my reflection.
My parents have literally thrown out all knifes, scissors, razors, and blades. Just so I don't kill myself.
Thank you girls who drew butterfly's on my arm. Thank you for caring about me.
I'm trying to get better. And it's hard so just give me time.
YOU ARE READING
A Cutters Diary (editing)
Teen FictionMy mind, my hell, my life. What I think at my darkest times and my happiest.
