One More Month...
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- Votes 30
- Parts 2
So you found this. In all the billions if stories available you found this.
My life written to you, the reader. Every event and thing currently happening to me in a fictional style novel, and I've laid it bare for you.
I will write a story of my life in a series of snapshots, each one with names changed.
Don't expect perfect grammer or spelling or sentence structure. It's a virtual diary of me, and you can look if you want.
Thanks for stopping by
~~~
#293 in non-fiction, as of January 27-March 2
#445 in non-fiction as of March 9- March 18
All Rights Reserved
#817
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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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