The second you pick up that blade. Those scissors. That pin. The second you spark the lighter by your skin. The second you dig your nails into your arm. That's the second when you wish you were someone else, someone happy. Someone alive. Put that razor, lighter, pin, those scissors down. Sit there for a while and think.
Really think.
What are you doing? Why? You're young, you've got a future, you've still got a path under those ruins of yours. Pick up your mess, one bit by one, take as long as you need. Find people to help you. Do something! Don't give up on yourself because you feel meaningless. Are you or are you not? Think about it.
Really think.
I mean it.
You are not alone here.
There's someone who loves you.
Someone who would think about you.
Someone who cares yet you don't even know it.
You know who's that?
Me.
I care. I love you. I think about you. I don't know you but I do. So do as I told you.
Think.
YOU ARE READING
Leo's Story
Non-FictionThis is for those who are suffering from depression, self harm, or even just know someone who is. This is a story for you. You are not alone.