TW// Suicidal Ideation, Childhood Depression & Repression, Guilt & Shame, (also) Catholic Guilt, Generational Trauma ||
In 2017, I was a young child. I guess many would call me a girl at that point. Nothing has changed much, despite it being 2024. I was curious about the state of this place, and I laughed as I read some old Wattpad stories. I cried (both happy and sad metaphorical tears) too, for the friends I had, for the friends who lived on.
Seven years, and I still haven't found the end to my madness. I've opened my eyes since those childhood days, and I sometimes I wish I never did. At least I could pretend I was flying when I felt the wind rush against my skin.
No, I was falling. I'm still falling, and I can't see the bottom yet. Almost a decade, I can't see the end, and I wonder if I'll live at the end of it. I'll survive though. I always have. I'm too cowardly to die, and perhaps that's a good thing.
[Cover Image Credit: My Reverse-Adopted Cult Brother-Sibling Nyx]