I guess the truth is that I have been depressed since I was probably young and just let it slip my mind until I was 11.
I knew I was different from everyone else but I wouldn't blame them.
I'm the one to blame.
My parents abuse me and my brother died in a car crash.
I was alone with my parents and even when I did nothing wrong I still would get abused but I learned how to handle it all.
I started cutting myself when I found my dad's razors in the bathroom when I was 10. I thought that they would help me with my pain, and they did.
I guess the point is that for 7 years now almost eight I have been able to cut with no problem it doesn't even bother my skin anymore.
So I'm going to leave it's not like I'm going to sleep or anything, I barely do but it's ok.
YOU ARE READING
Diary of A Suicidal GirlTeen Fiction
She's living in hell, but she can't do anything about it. All she could do it try to make it seem as if she was a perfectly fine. But soon enough she's gonna break.