Failed Attempts

Prolouge~

          I try. To fit in. To be loved. To feel confident. To tell someone that I cut. Tell them I'm depressed. Tell them that my anxiety attacks happen more often. But, I'm just shot down. 

         "You're fine!"They say " You're just being over dramatic!" They say. I just scoff and walk away. I want help. I crave help. But I guess that's just a selfish thought. Their are more important problems like poverty, or disease. The way I look at it now, my problems are minuscule compared to those types of problems. I guess I'm just a selfish person. Who would love a girl that cuts? No-one. And, you know, that it amazes me how much a long sleeved shirt and a fake mask of happiness can hide.

        My only escape is in my room. There lays my laptop. Where all my broken dreams, youtube explorations, and intense music volumes are harbored. My one true happiness. On my dresser, is a little oak wood box. In the container has all of my razors. These are my paintbrushes in my world of darkness. My canvas, my wrists. There is also a beautiful garden in the middle of the forest behind my house. But, that place is a time for later. Now is the time to just wallow in sorrow.

A/N: Hey! This is OtakuGamer, and I just wanted to thank you for reading this far. I appreciate constructive response and I love to hear feed back. I was inspired to write this because I want an escape and I like to imagine that my favorite youtubers being there. I cut, and it has been getting to the point that I have to cut on my legs because my arms have no space. I know what you're going through, and I want you to know that it'll be alright. I know that might sound like complete bullshit, I admittedly thought that too, but I promise it will. If you need help, just let me know, I'd love to talk to you! ^_^ If you think you need professional help, call 1-800-DONTCUT (366-8288). Don't be afraid to call!

Love, OtakuGamer