A series of thoughts,
Especially at night,
Could be heartwrenching,
Overwhelming,
Depressing.
And someday, it is going to reach to a point where,
crying no longer works,
cutting won't be able to take away the pain,
breathing might be no longer neccessary.
Or maybe, it could be the other way round.
Like how
The smiles of other people brightens up my day,
Another stormy day is just a challenge,
A sob is a sign of frustration.
Yes, and yes, it could be Possibly Dark.
A Possibly Dark life.
"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