Why is death so evil when you try to **** yourself? people turn the other way pretend you didn’t speak those four words Yet, when others die from other causes they cannot talk enough of it?
How can you love me more than words describe but when I see myself I just feel shame and empty inside? How can you be so happy to see me but I can barely look in the mirror? How can you be so afraid to lose me but the mere thought of dying brings a smile followed by tears?
A few minutes ago I hate myself a bit more than I usually do. I cut my thigh. One single cut, but it was at that moment I realized I was...alone. I can’t tell my mom she’d be upset. Couldn’t tell My brother he’d tell mom. Couldn’t tell My other brother I was scared to. I also wanted to die but couldn’t because of my son and I hated that. I also hated that I hated that. 1 year and 1 month. 13 months. 395 days. Gone. Because I was a weak.
When I wrote this I was a single mom. Now I’m back with my sons father and things are getting better and everything WILL be ok.
I don’t know and nothing is all I feel; it’s all I think. My muscles aren’t responding or maybe my brain just didn’t tell them to do anything I don’t know. My eyes however haven’t stopped flowing. Other than my heart, which I feel beating behind my eyes, seems to be working