Not me. (2023)

Not me. (2023)

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WpMetadataReadConcluída seg, dez 18, 20231h 13m
so, I've been struggling for a long time now, and I never told anyone about it. I've never opened up. but I met someone who understands how I feel, and I'm beginning to feel again. I don't know how to do it, but I finally feel I can fight. I've been so exhausted. I'm not better, I'm not sure if i ever will be, but I'm not numb, not entirely. I can't say how I'm feeling, or what i am going to write, but if you want it, it's here. This is for you. For everyone who was made to be the villain by those meant to be by their sides. For everyone with a sensitive heart made to grow strong much too quickly. For everyone who struggles to get out of bed in the morning. For everyone who never could find the words to say why. For everyone who struggles to feel and for everyone who feels too much. For everyone who had to pick themselves back up. For everyone who had to parent themselves. For everyone fighting an invisible battle. For everyone who has been underestimated. For everyone who has to flee to other worlds to cope. For everyone who found other means to silence their voices. For everyone who was silenced. For everyone who was over powered. For everyone who was made to be less. For everyone who had to watch someone else suffer and stay silent. For everyone asking themselves, why? Why would you do this? What did I do? Why is this happening to me? It was never your fault.
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darkthoughts
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[BWWM] I was only twelve years old when the world turned cold. The day my mom died in that car accident, I felt like someone had dumped a bucket of ice water over my heart. My dad, who had always been my hero, suddenly became a stranger, filled with rage and blame. He couldn't see that I was hurting, too; he only saw me as a reminder of his loss. The accusations cut deep. He said it was my fault for being there, for not doing something to save her. For being the reason she was in the car in the first place. In the years that followed, things only got worse. The abuse started gradually-a harsh word here, a shove there-but it escalated, leaving scars that I carried long after the physical pain faded. I was drowning in my own despair, struggling to keep my head above water while my father's anger raged like a storm around me. I only had a break from his anger when I started living with Aunt Dina-my mom's older sister. Well, that was because she found me nearly dead on my bed after I took a dozen pills. I was tired of living. I had hit rock bottom. The harsh whispers that followed me around and the stares at school. I pretended not to notice, like it didn't bother me. But it did. I was alone. Then came Athalia, a ray of sunshine cutting through my darkness. With her, I felt something I hadn't felt in years-happiness. She became my light through the darkness and my lifeline. ••••••••••• ● Warnings ⚠️ ~ Mention of suicide ~ Anxiety attacks ~ Rape attempt ~ Mention of self-harm ~ Depression

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