How can you love me more than words describe but when I see myself I just feel shame and empty inside? How can you be so happy to see me but I can barely look in the mirror? How can you be so afraid to lose me but the mere thought of dying brings a smile followed by tears?
A few minutes ago I hate myself a bit more than I usually do. I cut my thigh. One single cut, but it was at that moment I realized I was...alone. I can’t tell my mom she’d be upset. Couldn’t tell My brother he’d tell mom. Couldn’t tell My other brother I was scared to. I also wanted to die but couldn’t because of my son and I hated that. I also hated that I hated that. 1 year and 1 month. 13 months. 395 days. Gone. Because I was a weak.
When I wrote this I was a single mom. Now I’m back with my sons father and things are getting better and everything WILL be ok.
I don’t know and nothing is all I feel; it’s all I think. My muscles aren’t responding or maybe my brain just didn’t tell them to do anything I don’t know. My eyes however haven’t stopped flowing. Other than my heart, which I feel beating behind my eyes, seems to be working