Where were you?
- Reads 9
- Votes 2
- Parts 1
Depression isn't a joke. People ask for help in ways that aren't obvious but no pays attention. So where were you when they needed you?
All Rights Reserved
#746
scared
Join the largest storytelling communityGet personalized story recommendations, save your favourites to your library, and comment and vote to grow your community.
You may also like
Someone New ✓
"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 overboardComplete
Fix Me, I'm Broken
Walking into an empty house is normal to me. I guess I got tired of saying 'I'm home' when nobody is home to reply. It wasn't always like this. I remember when our family was close. Now we don't see each other any more. We don't talk to each other. We don't eat with each other. We don't ACKNOWLEDGE each other. This all happened after my 'Mother' killed herself. My father blames me. This is my story about how I learned to not count on anyone else but myself. I'm broken. I'm used. No one can fix me. But when the New Boy in town tries to fix me, everything will change. Good change or Bad change, I don't know. Only time will tell. I want to enter this story in the #Wattys2015 please help me out and vote and comment on my story. I'll really appreciate it!!! #Wattys2015 COPYRIGHTED © 2014 BY Anallely ALL RIGHTS RESERVED ®Complete
The leaving 11 years on on going stopped up dating for a awhile
The leaving. It was hard, tragic , painful, yet it had to be done, I needed to save my life. I didn't want to start again, this would be the story of finding myself, pulling myself back together, reuniting the happy go lucky youngster I had once been. The shock of leaving took more of a toll on me than I thought it would. I had asked two people to help me move out of the house I had shared with my partner for 8 years, we had been together 23 years in total. The move was done in total secrecy, my partner could never know in advance, it was a very scary time. I had moved various things out of the house and secured a rent on a property nearby. The house I picked was near the School the children went to, and my oldest lad was going to be near his best friend. My Mother told me of the property it was advertised on the web, we both went and had a look, even that was scary, I didn't want to be seen by anyone and became paranoid that I would be caught out. For many months I lived on a new kind of fear, the fear of someone finding out that I planned to leave my abusive partner, though of course no one knew my seemingly happy, funny, generous partner was abusive. Finding the house was one thing, getting the various companies to connect the house and exchanging the information of my current address so they could varify that I was, who I said I was almost drove me mad. The day came to leave, My Mother and a very dear Friend came round as early as possible, we packed as much as we could. This included taking the boys clothes, bedding, toys, stuff from the garden, my stuff. We had 3 cars the packing seem to take all day. By the end we had to get going to be able to unpack, leaving me time to pick up the boys from School and settle them in their new home. I couldn't do it at first,I started to cry then scream, to leave the world I had put so much of my life into, and now in a split second would be leaving was breaking my heart.Complete
when Em came to me
this is some stuff I write because I can't say it out loud and/or because I shouldn't be thinking about it. this is truly how I feel and what I think.Complete
Evolution
There are a lot of things you don't really think about until they happen to you. Take rape, for instance. I always thought, "That won't happen to me. I have a boyfriend. I trust him. He would never take advantage of me like that..." I couldn't have been more wrong. Love in this day and age is often confused for manipulation and abuse. The warning signs are here. The things we say will tell us everything that is wrong. You are worth more than what you think you are. It's not your fault. If they tell you otherwise, get out. Burn the bridge. Always remember someone is waiting for you to walk into their life. Someone needs you. Someone loves you. Getting away from all of the wrong people and finding the right ones could save you. I can promise you right now that it saved me. These are the journal entries and selected poems from my first experience of love that left a unpleasant taste in my mouth- quite literally. I am putting this out for the whole world to see because I hope everyone will learn from my experience. People can see. We have no excuses to continue living our lives in ignorance. ...WARNING... HARMFUL THEMES INCLUDING MENTION OF SUICIDE, SELF HARM, AND RAPE. THIS HAS EXPLICIT CONTENT. RECOVERY AND AWARENESS IS THE PURPOSE OF SHARING. DO NOT READ IF THESE THEMES ARE OFFENSIVE OR HARMFUL TO YOU.Complete
The Broken Girl
... I didn't know what to do... so I did nothing. There I was, sprawled onto the ground. Just looking at the sky. Wishing... praying... pleading that it would lift me up and take me far away. The bitter air stung my skin like wasps, but still I laid there my legs bare and my body now trembling, did I care though? Would it be so bad for everything to just stop? ___________________________________________ At a young age Zara had entire life was stripped away from her, but she didn't give up she built a new one... only to have that one torn apart as well. It seems everywhere she goes there's trouble lurking around the corner. There's no escape, and no entrance, it only is. Not only is her mate not what she wanted but yet again a curve ball is thrown into the mix leaving Zara's life in jeopardy. What will happen to Zara will she over come this new problem? Will her life ever be normal? Will her mate change? Or better yet does she want him to? A/N: This is my first story I haven't plotted it I'm just writing and seeing where it gets me. May contain swearing and some possible heated scenes, you have been warned!!!Complete
Noah (Obsessions in Overdrive #1)
I've always had a feeling that I would die young. Ever since I started pondering on deaths door I've had this feeling. I could care less about the hell and heaven shenanigans, but death. I want it. The end of my life. I want to be in my suit, in my coffin, in the ground and my soul to be gone. I've been waiting for 16 years, yet no sign of death opening his door no matter how many times I ring his doorbell. Yeah, I enjoy thinking about my end. Especially at moments like this... *** #1 physical #1 cuteguys #1 addiction #2 self-esteem *** Started: 7 November 2022 Finished: 18 April 2024Complete
Behind every mean girl...there's a tragedy
The average human being spends every second of his day fighting against the force of nature to see another day. But I'm different. I'm not afraid of outside forces to take my life away - only myself. Approximately 10 years ago, something happened to me. Something really bad. But I'm not allowed to talk about it. As a way to release my frustration, I give hell to my body and everyone I come in contact with - especially my parents. No one knows about what happened except the ones who did it...and Him. But he didn't stay. Now, he's back and he's not talking either. I want to stop hurting, I need to stop. Make me stop.Complete
My Story
*WARNING TALKS ABOUT SUICIDE AND OTHER TRIGGERING THINGS, DO NOT READ IF YOU'RE EASILY TRIGGERED OR EMOTIONAL* This story includes me talking a little about my Trauma, and some of the things I've gone through since I was a kid. There will be some detailed parts here and there, and these are dark stories.Complete
Drowning In Sorrow- Poetry
*Trigger Warning* Suicide, cutting, depression, abuse, self harm, death etc. ~I didn't know happiness as well as I know sorrow ❤️ Stay strong ❤️Complete
"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
More detailsContent Guidelines