When someone tells me I'm beautiful, worth it and that things will get better, yeah, well, your words mean nothing when you don't know me. You don't know how I look, you've never heard of me, you don't know anything about my life, about the shit I go through every single day. Yes, you might be going through shit as well, but you don't go through MY shit. Once you see my face, and live my life, you can say that things will get better and that I'm beautiful and worth it. Only then I'll believe you.
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It's Not Me, It's Depression
AcakJust a bunch of things to help people who go through depression explain how they feel to others, and help people who try to understand that feeling know how it feels. Trigger Warning *Not a story*