I have finally taken the courage to deduct this. My reasons for the petty depression aren't even valid. I cry and whimper over the pettiest of things while others suffer from rapes and murders that happen in front of them. My problems compared to others are like a drop in the sea. And worse of all when I finally find peace and solace I create my own problems just like a machine in a factory. I guess it's my own way of coping with the pain. And all the over thinking I do doesn't make it any better.
YOU ARE READING
Letters to the dead
PuisiA suicidal heartbroken teenager with daddy issues, anxiety, stress and a mild depression. I've got a fucked up head and I've been mentally and physically scared for life. I hope I don't bore you with my sadness. Its hard to be depressed and not hide...