So yea im venting rn sorry... I know one will rlly care and im aware that i might be sounding like. I want attention and pitty, but i promise i dont. And this might get deleted by scratch :/
I decided to show u the two things i wrote when i trying so here ya go:
My heart is broke, i cant feel it beat the same way anymore. I used think i was gonna be the hapoiest person on earth. I was wrong. Ppl always try to force me to speak up. But it hurts knowing that i could hurt someone by telling them my problems. Its my problem to bare not anyone elses. I cant be th eperson to polute someone elses mind with my thoughts. My crying and cutting is my medication. I cant take it. I really dont wanna live, i dont wanna be a burden to friends. They day that they will miss me. But they will only miss part of me, the fake smiles and positivity part of me. Not the real me. And i know i should be blessed to not have worse but my though heart has tunred into a glass feeling. Bc i can break so easily and im not stable. I wanna make change but the change that happens gets ignored by the drinking and arguing of my family. And ppl say not to judge and book by its cover buts thats all we ever do. And the cover of the book isnt even a book at all, bc u cant just read a person a figure out hwta their going through.
And heres the other one .3.
I know that im hurt, and i know that im broken but i still wonder, why me? I never thought as kid something was wrong until i faced the truth when i was a bit older. My mom drank. And it may not seem big, but it rlly impacted me. I was always upset, tired, and i. Cried alot at night, i always thought that sadness my best friend, bc it was always there. I didnt rlly understand why sadness would lie to me. I started to bileave being happy is just living lies and that smiling when im not happy is useless. But i would wear a mask to cover up my brokeness, flaws, and deppression. Ppl thought i was okay. I always kept to myself, and i soon became short tempered bc i wasnt telling anyone my feelings. I remember when one time my mom was screaming and yelling and banging on my sisters door i went out and tried stop it, but i just got yelled at for trying to help. I soon began to think i was useless and no one needed me. I soon began cutting my wrists, it was a way of coping, to escape. But everyone tells me that theres worse in the world and i shouldnt be upset. But does that me feel better?!?!? It makes me feel bad that im crying and cutting, i dont know why ppl are ppl. Why cant we be kind? Or smart? Ppl to me is just a word to describe a race with no sense.
Thats it bai~