In my head

22 angels

I don't want to get into what happened at Manchester.My ptsd had come harder and stronger than from before. I had anxiety from when my parents had a divorce some how I blamed myself for their problems. I blamed myself for Manchester.In a way it was my fault.Maybe I do show to much skin.I want to announce everything I stand for but I didn't think people would die,
because I voiced my opinion. I love my babies.I remember when I realized everyone feels pain.When I had my first tour.At the meet and greet several boys and girls had cut marks up and down their wrist.I see it all the time. When I scroll through Instagram and see my fans posting how ugly they are compared to me.It makes me sad.I have a lot of responsibilities on my shoulders.I just want music to make everyone happy like how it does for me.

Mac helped me a lot during this time.When I boarded off the plane back home in Boca he was right there with his big smile ready to wrap me in his arms. I didn't want to stop touring the evil never wins and I stand by that.

I was in my childhood room just crying while I starred at the blank wall from my bed. Mac entered and sat beside me,"Hey baby you wanna talk about it."I turned and cried in his shoulder I didn't come out of my room.When I saw another person I just cried.I feel like sometimes it is my fault for everything.I don't want to hurt anyone.Mac laid in the bed with me as I just cried and cried.My eyes got so puffy but I didn't care nothing would hurt more than the pain I experienced in Manchester,but it did happen again I wasn't prepared for what came next.My family friends and fans convinced me to get over the speed bump in the road.Mac was right there supporting me like how I supported him.