I felt like I need people to know how I feel, but it's hard to talk about. So why not write about it? This book may contain dark edgy moments that may not be appropriate for young readers, or those who cry easily. Sometimes I'll come out of the blue writing about sad, edgy things but that's just what happens.
I have a bad past.
I most likely will write about it, and if you do read it. Brace yourself. It may not be as triggering as it is for me.
I'm not exactly mentally stable. I wish I was, I really do. But when the memories flood in it's hard to think straight. It's scary. I need help, but when I try to reach out to get help. I'm denied of what I need. Help.
I've asked for therapy, sympathy, time, any kind of help. But again, denied. I try so hard to stay stable, and make sure no one at school, or even home,is to worry about me. I hurt, and no one notices. I may hide some of my pain, but when I do show how I feel. I get a few 'it's okay's and 'you'll be alright'.
I do have a past of self harm, I'm not proud. I try not to think about it so much. But it's inevitable. It's a part of me. Scars don't always fade, along with the memories they come with. I know people care, but when the speak to me emotionally. The sound empty, careless, emotionless.
I'm going to stop here. I'll try and write tomorrow. Bye
