Catching a Fallen Breath

Catching a Fallen Breath

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WpMetadataReadMatureOngoing<5 mins
WpMetadataNoticeLast published Mon, May 7, 2018
When people told me how to grow up, I rebelled. What I become, who I choose to become is no longer an option. She loved me, but there was a twist. She slowly was dying. I watched as she burned away, as her ashes faded, and I question my mortality. Was seeing this occurrences promising my humanity away, disregarding human rights. Thanks to those I love I'm questioned for who I am. Catching a fallen breath that falls every time my screams ring. So, I'm making this book occurring to a real life scenario known as Pasung, treatment that was presented upon people in mental hospitals in Indonesia. It's time the world stood up for a change, and even if the issue is still the same, there should be rights to everyone. But, just because you have rights doesn't mean you can flaunt around. Take a change in your community, better yet change the world.
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"There comes a point where you no longer care if there's a light at the end of the tunnel or not. You're just sick of the tunnel." - Who I am doesn't matter. How I got here doesn't matter. What matters now is I'm getting help, right? That's what they tell me here. They tell me that the road to recovery feels like a terrible butt fuck, but the fact that you're on the path to begin with, is all that matters. So as I sit in this circle of fuck ups, I realize just how different I am from them. I didn't attempt suicide because my mother was a crack addict who didn't want me. My father wasn't abusive. I didn't have a sibling die in a car accident. I was never really bullied either. I attempted suicide because, for the first time in years, I thought I had found something that could make me feel again... and after not feeling much at all for far too long, perhaps I went a bit overboard

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