What Happened To Hell [?]

Why I deleted Hell.

Not that anyone really read my work [or cared about it], but I thought it would at least make me feel better to talk about it. I deleted this app for a long time in hopes I could stop myself from deleting everything, but avoidance doesn't solve any issues. The things I wrote were not only talentless and bland, but simply depressing. They remind me of nothing but a time where I was small and broken. I don't want to remember those times. I want to move on. I want to be normal.
I used "Hell." as somewhere to go to spill my bottomless bucket of hurt and distress. Sometimes it was because they were things I couldn't force myself to tell people face-to-face, and sometimes it was because I felt there was no one who wanted to listen. At first it started out as somewhere to get the attention of an old love, to see if he was still interested in what I had to say. I've moved passed that. I'm tired.
My old works are no longer something I am proud of, nor do I want them to be out there for the world to see. When people think about who I am, I want them to think about who I am today. Although still very broken, I work hard every day to distance myself from the person I was when I wrote those chapters. Maybe at some point if I find something to say, I will start writing again. But as previously stated, I am very tired.
I find no solace in writing anymore. Speaking in riddles and rhymes and following the guidelines of what society considers "art" or "poetry" is no longer of any interest to me. All I want now is to make it through my day to day. If I get up before noon, I consider that a very good start. For now, my top priority is not talking about my issues or unraveling the giant patchwork that has been oh-so sloppily pieced together as I try to better myself. My top priority is to make sure I keep my head above water.
With all that being said, I am much happier now than I was. I have worked through a lot of things, internally and externally. I try to stay positive, I am working through my mental illnesses. I am trying to figure out a game plan of how to put the puzzle pieces of my life back together. I'm about one-fifth through it. I have come to terms with who I am, and who I was always meant to be.
I appreciate anyone and everyone who took the time to read this drawn-out babble. This will probably be all I write for awhile. Maybe one day when I am no longer so tired, I'll come back and write more poems about unraveling seams and flowing streams and lost dreams and sunbeams. So until then, thank you. I'll see you in the next chapter.
~Red