Poisoned
- Reads 69
- Votes 1
- Parts 4
Tagsromance
"I'm a depressed person, don't know what to do with my life there's no point to it. My family beats me my friends stab me in the back and the wounds will never be healed. I feel like I need some closure from somebody maybe love... No...yes... I can't love is just mist you can never find it. Sometimes I feel like killing other people just so they can feel the pain I have went through, I dream about killing every night but never actually get myself to do it. Maybe it's the problem with I never get out to maybe just push somebody in front of a bus while there waiting to walk across the road. My mom drinks I wish I could kill her, it would make my life so much easier but I know if I did I would be in a foster home and there worse than this now. Maybe I should run away that would solve all my life problems." Haha maybe if I we're dead she thought rudely.
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ππ‘ππ’π« ππ’πππ₯π ππ§π ππ₯ | ππ+
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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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