marilyn / c.h.

him; diagnosed.

mary lynn; 

please stop ignoring me. it's been three fucking weeks. 

i'm sorry i screwed up. i'm sorry that i can't control my emotions. i'm sorry that i got drunk and told you i loved you. i really fucking love you.

don't you realize that you've destroyed me? because you did. in the past three weeks, i've gone maybe four days total without crying until i had to change my shirt from all of the tears i'd shed. 

ashton and the boys are starting to worry about me. they say i've lost weight, that i'm too sad. what they don't know is that i've been corrupted. 

mali took me to the doctor and they asked her a lot of questions. apparently they matched up with depression. fucking depression. the things kids cut about, and get made fun of for. i won't cut, i'm not like that. it would be too much to take a blade to my skin and -

well, now that i think about it...

anyway, they gave her this pamphlet and she read me the signs of depression in the car.

-sadness

-frequent crying

-agitation or hostility

-changes in eating and sleeping habits

-feelings of worthlessness and guilt

-withdrawl from friends and family

there are more, but mali and the boys said those relate to me directly.

thanks a fucking lot for shattering my perfect image of you. i wish i could say that i didn't still love you to death.

-cal 

p.s. i'm still fucking sorry. i'm a sorry mess of nothing.