Forty Five

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d a n

I hate myself.

I'm worthless. I have no reason for anyone to love me. That is why I hate myself.

I woke up at three in the morning. I hate myself. I hate myself. I hate myself. I looked at my stomach. I'm fat. I looked in the mirror. I'm ugly. Suddenly, my fisted hand was pained. My knuckles were cut and bleeding. I looked at my hand in shock. I looked back into the mirror. It had a big crack in it. The scary part is that I don't remember punching the mirror. I threw away my blade, but I had a scary urge to hurt myself. Why was I so stupid? I shouldn't've thrown it away. I dug through my medicine drawer. What am I doing? I stopped. I slammed the drawer. I started shaking and I fell on my knees and I cried. I tried to think of my parents, and Phil, and my friends. But I still felt alone. I was just glad that I woke up in the morning. Because I was alive.

I'm worthless. I have no reason for anyone to love me. That is why I hate myself.

I hate myself.

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