Dear Annie.
I promised myself that I would never write something like this.
That I would never write a suicide note.
But don't worry this isn't a suicide note...
it's therapy?
I think that in some twisted way if I write this and tell you what's happening in my brain, maybe, maybe you'll forgive me. Maybe then you'll understand that I never tried to hurt you, but that I was only trying to protect myself.
it didn't work.
it never works.
Sometimes it feels like if I just disappeared out of your life that you wouldn't care. That you wouldn't have to deal with my insanity anymore.
Did you know that I always walk through doors before I can let anyone else enter a room?
i thought if i tried hard enough, it would make things better between us.
and yet here I am.
in therapy.
apologizing.
see you soon?
Lana.
YOU ARE READING
Dear Annie
ContoSomedays it feels like you're swimming and ignoring that I'm drowning. But then I realize. You stopped fighting the undertow a long time ago. ~ Attention: Written by someone who does NOT suffer from depression! ©2018