Don't Let Me Go

0.1 // My Story

"My name is Annabeth Roswell, I'm 16 years old and like many of you in this room I have a story that I have not yet told." That's it, that's all i have. I have to write my autobiography for this stupid group therapy session for people with depression that my dad makes me go to every Wednesday after school. I have like two months to write it but  still it's not exactly easy to write about why you are always sad. My dad doesn't actually care about me and my depression but he thinks it will make me get better and he doesn't want mum to find out about it. You see last year my dad walked in while i was cutting, i must not have locked the door, and you know what his exact words were? "You are so selfish Annabeth, do you know what something like this would do to your mother? I can't believe you!" and with that he slammed the bathroom door shut, leaving me crying on the bathroom floor.

That was four months ago and ever since i have been going to these stupid group therapy sessions. They say that it should be easy for me to make friends because we can all relate with each other but so far no good. I don't want to be friends with these people, they know more about me than  i know about myself, none of my friends know that i have depression, I'm afraid to tell them in fear of what they might say. My two best friends, Julie and Bailey are the reason I an alive today, I couldn't get through a day of school without those two, no way. It's those two different hearts that make mine whole.

I've been procrastinating for about 1 and a half hours now, listening to Demi Lovato and writing down every possible thought in my head. "I've got shame, I've got scars that i will never show! I'm a survivor, in more ways than you know!" I belt out the lyrics to her song Warrior, seeing as I'm home alone i don't need to worry about my dad coming in and telling me to shut up or my mum complaining that I'm giving her a headache or my older brother chucking a spazz because he can't hear the TV because I'm to annoying.. I'm trying to write about my life but if i do the horrible thoughts will creep into my mind, i haven't had a bad thought at all today and i'm very proud of that. I think it's stupid that a support group that is supposed to help you get over your depression is making you write about your whole life, about everything that has ever mad you sad, it's so fucking stupid and they shouldn't be making me relive all the horrible memories.

Fuck. FUCK. Here they are, the thoughts are creeping back in. I turn my music up louder hoping to drown out the thoughts.

"Everything's in line. But i'm bruised. I need a voice to echo, i need a light to take me home. I kinda need a hero, is it you?" Demi sings, her voice is so beautiful but it isn't helping me. The deadly thoughts are in my head.

It's your fault, you are the reason he keeps doing this. You are the reason he keeps making your mum cry. Don't try and fight it Annabeth this is all because of you and you deserve the pain you are inflicting on yourself.

I've been doing so well, pushing the thoughts away. But this time it's not working and they are eating me away, forcing me to do the thing i have been trying so hard not to do.

HEY GUYS! So this is my first book! Who's excited? I am! Sorrrrrrrry for any spelling or grammar errors hah xo I am really excited for this book and my chapters won't be that long sorry but i will try :) so excited for this book omg! I will probably be updating like once a week bc school is super busy atm but maybe more :)

P.S SORRY FOR THIS SHITTY CHAPTER IT WILL GET BETTER