The Forget-me-not Tattoo
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- Parts 2
MatureOngoing8m
Last published Sun, Nov 18, 2018
A hastily written & unedited account/biography of how I secretly survived my suicidal struggle and transformed my life into (what for the majority of my life I believed to be impossible) a good life.
Please note this is a personal account written for myself as part of an ongoing self-bettering goal, it contains disturbing, real life content including suicide, self-hatred and other mental health issues, abuse and other "adult" themes. I am not aiming to soften these themes to make them more pleasant for the general public as this is solely a diary-like record meant for myself. Please don't read if you are not in a place to address such topics.
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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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