Dear diary,
I know I'm the worst person who lives on this Earth. Lately I'm getting sadder and sadder.
It's just that I hate myself. I can't look at me in the mirror, because I'm ugly.
I'm ugly, sad, depressed, alone, stupid, tired.
I'm ugly because he doesn't like me.
And if he doesn't like me, I'm sad.
If I'm sad I feel depressed.
When I feel depressed I start cutting my wrists, my arms, my legs, my shoulders. Nobody cares.
And if I cut myself, I prefer people not to know it. It's my shit.
And if I don't say a word, friends go away from me. They don't want a stupid fat and foolish girl. They don't want a cold girl, without heart because is full of sadness.
And if people go away I'm alone.
Sometimes I like being alone. In my home, with the darkness, I talk with walls, and even if they can't answer me, they don't judge.
I hate people who judges without know everything. If you don't know, shut your mouth up.
If I spend too time alone, my mother says I'm stupid, and no one cares me, because I'm nothing for the others.
And so I'm tired of hearing her tell me I'm fat, stupid, I'm nothing, I'm wrong, I'm the biggest mistake she has ever done.
I don't want to be this, but I'm this!
I'm so Sorry mama.
You made a monster, 'cause you are a monster too. I hate you mum. I really hate you. Because now I cannot trust myself, because no one trust me, nobody loves me, and I'm always the last choice that people do.
