Yes, I cut. Yes, I burn myself. Yes, I'm an emo. Yes, I'm gay. Yes, I'm suicidal. Yes, I'm different.
Reminding me of that and calling me a freak won't make me feel better. It will only make me want to kill myself even more. When will you ever realize that already? Just because I'm a walking canvas with an ugly painting on it and I show it to the world, does not give you the right to mock me even more than you used to. Exposing myself to the world did not give you the privilege to stomp on me even more.
You see what you've done to me and you still insult me and bully me everyday? How monsterlike are you?
YOU ARE READING
It's Not Me, It's Depression
RandomJust 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*
