w r e c k a g e ✓

the wreckage of her well being

❝I'm 100 percent sure she did whatever she did for attention... and you're really cute if you support her.❞

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IT TAKES DEATH or the trying of suicide for a person to change their negative viewing on someone to a positive light. For others, nothing changes, and they still feel the same bitterness for that someone no matter what happens.

Why?

Why is this generation losing the concepts of sympathy and empathy because everybody gets to say what they want without consequences?

Why can't someone come forward with their mental illness on social media or in person without being told that they're being fake? Without being told that they're searching for attention? Without being told the apparent right way to handle their illness?

Don't post anything on social media.

You look like an attention seeker.

You look like a petty sob story.

You look like you want pity.

Fake.

Fake.

Fake.

People in society are so caught up in their own personal self hatred and lack of notion to act humane that they tend to not feel anything for other humans' well beings.

She deserved it.

She thought the same thing too. She was quite surprised with the fact that she survived. She didn't think she would. And now after hearing and seeing everyone's biased opinions and thoughts towards her she began to wish that it had worked.

They were angry at her for trying to leave this wretched earth. And not for the right reasons. They were angry because they all assumed that it was because she was looking for attention. In all technicality they were basically angry because what she tried to do hadn't worked.

It was a lose lose. If it worked they wouldn't have cared. If it hadn't worked they wouldn't have cared. They would have been angry. For all the wrong reasons.

The feeling of wariness, and then confusion, and then hurt began to rise up deep from the pits of her stomach. She clenched and un clenched her fists and wheezed at the coherent nauseousness.

They know more about what she's going through than herself, she mused silently. They have it all mapped out in their brains. Yes, that was it.

They come up with these sick jokes. And they say these mean things. And they have no regret. No guilt. They don't care about her mental health. To them, her illness is a joke and reaching out would be stupid.

Her thoughts were killing her. Her cries turned into pure agony.

It could have worked.

It should have worked.

They could have won. Either way they did.