This is my part two of my journal. I decided to take a break from everything so i stopped writing. I thought it would be good for me to do that but it actually got worse. I started cutting trying to see if that would relieve the pain I was actually going through. I was wrong it got worse and worse everyday. At one point I even felt light headed from cutting and the amount of blood that was leaving my body. I took ecstasy tablets to distract myself from life. At this point i hated myself. I bought new blades to make it even worse. I wish I could say I regret it but I don't. In the past 2 months i've been through hell not know or expecting what is gonna happen to me or if i'm going to survive until the end of the day. I've tried to help others about their problems and ignore mine but doesn't seem to work. People try to help me but I don't wanna be helped i hate being helped. I rather feel hopeless than people helping me. I rather be torn into a million pieces instead of someone trying to put me back together. I rather be broken than fixed. And the truth is I rather be dead than alive.
YOU ARE READING
My Life, My Story 2
Non-FictionThis is a story about girl who is confused and conflicted with what life has to give her. With tension and her trying to figure if she should tell the truth about her life.
