I Had A Family, Once. Then I Fucked Up And Things Were Never The Same.

Aint it funny how life changes...

I've never felt like this... fuck I miss him.

Were keeping distance because were both not ready.

my scars haven't even healed, and i don't think they're going to heal anytime soon.

Hes not ready to be open and trust me

My mind is a constant battle, and even when we were "together", I couldn't mentally handle it.

I'm really not ready, and neither is he, and it fucking sucks because I think he's the one.

ik its only been a short time, but I think I love him.

but it doesnt matter. he's gonna move on soon, but I never will.

What would happen if I finally did it:

They'll take one look at my body and one look at my arms and thighs and say, "this is the reason why"

They'll stop searching there. They'll say my parents were naive and the reason there were hundreds of horizontal lines running down my body was because I stopped trying. They'll assume that I lost sight of my future and what I had going for me.

I'll just end up being nothing more than a statistic and a "life that could have been"

Itll be fine though, because I'll finally be at peace.

Everyone will blame themselves and need everyone else's pity over the fact that they lost me when the truth is they never had me. I've had scars for years and they did nothing. I know some saw them. Some days I would cry out for help, and not for "attention" or whatever the boomers say. No. I slit my wrists so I could get help. They heard my cry, but they decided they knew everything and still left me to bleed.

They dont deserve to be pitied for my death. Not even because they caused it, or that they even could've prevented it, but that they didn't even try... they didnt care enough when I was alive, so why would they care now that I was gone?

Eventually, all will go back to normal. It's TRUE. They'll go back to their lives and barely even remember me as the girl who killed herself. They'll say it was because I was depressed. They'll look at my scars and cuts that never healed right, and think they have the whole story. You don't.

This might be proof someday. This might be what's considered a suicide note, but I'm not going to write a typical note. This might be all they find, if they even dig deep enough.

Most likely, They're gonna take one look at my body and say "this was gonna happen sooner or later" and think that's the end of that. But let me tell you:

You've barely scratched the surface.

No. See, things get so bad sometimes, and those scars are the reason I'm still alive. When I see the blood, dripping down my limbs, it's a reminder that my heart is still beating, and I still have a life to live.

It's not meant to be poetry. It's not meant to come out like a positive thing. As much as they help me to live and cope with the daily events of this life, they are what brought me so close to death so many times before. I suppose what they're gonna say about me is right, but that's only one piece to a very complex puzzle I hope to finish one day.

I hope to live so that one day, my scars can be faded to the point they're barely visible. I want them to be gone, but never forgotten. Because where I came from has everything to do with how I approach the rest of my life.

That is, if I choose to live that long.

It's infuriating how I have all these demons in my head no one else can understand.

Facts.

I really tried to make this work, and I hope you know that...

Is this what happiness feels like? Its been so long, i cant quite remember...

This guy told me the other day, "i think im gonna be depressed today" as if you can choose it. He doesnt know the first thing about it, because if he did, he would know that it chooses you.

- i really wish it was a choice

What happened to me...

I dont even know who I am anymore its like I have no control of my actions, thoughts, or feelings. I'm so fucking done with everything in life and i wanna end it I wanna end it so fucking bad I don't even care anymore I hate myself so much you don't even understand