Sue Ellen's Shadow
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- Parts 3
Ongoing10m
Last published Thu, May 22, 2025
mental health short stories. Just know this is some what true yet im still here I believe in you. You can get through this.
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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
A Chapter Named C
Everything I wrote about you...Complete
KNOW ME
I know you cry with silent tears, I know you lock yourself up so as not to make anyone feel bad, I know that you hide your demons under a smile, And you go through life terrified by what your mind treads And it tears your heart. But don't drown in you, Take out your tears Without Fear. The people who really love you It won't sink in your stormy sea And it won't let you sink, either And maybe I can't save you, But swim with you, And it's always goof to have someone to swim with. So please... StayComplete
Love Shouldn't Hurt (My Personal Experience With Emotional Abuse)
Change to disclaimer: I censored their name because they were getting death threats. THIS BOOK IS COMPLETE In my younger years, I accepted toxic manipulation and emotional abuse as normal and a sign of love. I've dealt with lying and manipulation all my life but never classified it as wrong since it all came from someone I loved: my father. I never fought back because I was raised to put trust in him because we were kin. A decade later, I come across Wattpad with a warm and loving community, and through mutual friends meet THEM. We then start dating on and off and then finally break up. Before we do break-up, they made me vow to never tell anyone what I had gone through and discovered about them. I said yes without hesitation because I was still madly in love with them and stupidly loyal; but as two years pass I realize I promised to not tell anyone about their true self so they could continue to do what they did to me and to silence me because they knew I still had feelings for them and was formidably loyal. I became damage control so they could continuously drag in new weak-minded people like me and make them go through the same pain and groom them to shower them with attention every second of the day and when they didn't; they made them feel as if they were wrong. They made their lovers feel like they were the bad guy and insignificant at the same time. In Present day, this still haunts me to the point I only get a few hours of sleep. My ex isn't here now and I feel I must share not only as a way to warn readers of people like them and how his definition of love is actually far from the truth, but as way of closure for myself.Complete
Her Breaking Point
He had rules for a reason, or thats what he said. I did something wrong I got punished. I spoke out of turn, I got punished. I looked at him or ate without permission, I got punished. Haven thats what they named me funny isn't it? Ironic really. They named me Haven because my mom would say I was her 'Safe Haven'. What a pile of shit that was. She left willingly, she didn't depart because of some tragic accident. My father didn't kill her. She left because she was a coward who didn't want kids. As soon as my older brother went to college she left. I knew she hated me. I was the product of her love with another man. A constant reminder that her life didn't work out the way it was planned. He who ever he was is a phantom in its own. A deep rooted fantasy never going to come true. My brother left, my mother left, my grandma ignored, and my father broke. They let me give up hope on escaping and then decided to play hero. But I haven't forgotten everything I went through. Guilt consumes my brother but I don't care, you don't get to leave and then buy a reprieve of trying to save someone who has been dead for years. Besides lets just be honest I reached my breaking point long ago.Complete
Cold Water
[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 ~ DepressionComplete
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
Beneath The Surface: Book Two
"After every time I had wasted on someone who didn't matter, you came along and didn't even touch me. You didn't hold my hand, kiss me or even give me high fives. I'd just watch you from afar, falling more and more in love with what I saw. I couldn't care less about not touching you. All I cared about was if you were safe. And I've found that that is what love truly is and truly should be." (Updates every Wednesday and Saturday!)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
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