Affliction
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WpMetadataReadMatureOngoing5m
WpMetadataNoticeLast published Sun, Nov 27, 2016
They say you never miss something until it's gone. "They" are pretty damn wise, at least to me. There's one thing they're not so right about though. It wasn't just "gone". It was taken. By a drunken old man with a pocket knife, to be precise. Now because of that man I had never even met, I was going to be blind for the rest of my life. But don't worry. It will be all over soon.
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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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