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Ouch, I have lost myself again. Ouch, I have lost myself again. Untitled Document

You just keep going don’t you. I’m just going to sit here and pull my razor blade.

jeanmarcoing:

FORGETTING TO TAG SOMETHING AND RUSHING TO ADD WHAT YOU FORGOT TO TAG

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I am a person of survival (so far)

I am a person of survival, but growing up that wasn’t really my title. A dead soul who was screaming for survival. A young boy who became suicidal. I felt the hits and the kicks of society, probably the reason why I suffer from anxiety. I was never even the form of perfection, so I became the best example of neglection. They called me names from fat ass to white trash. The other shit, I won’t say it’s that bad. They called me up and always needed my back up. Call me a cunt, and say my family was jacked up. Death threats every time I logged in, always on some other shit. Damn, here we go again, I was already alone now I’m looking for a friend. Got no friends so here I am wishing it would end but it didn’t. It never did, was always something every time. I felt good, they would remind me that I was nothing, every time that I was down, they couldn’t help themselves but kick me. It tore me apart, took all the fight I had left in me. I had nothing, I was so fucking done. I couldn’t face all the drama so I decided to run but you can’t run forever, eventually you’ll get tired. So I just stared at the rope wishing my life would expire. I mean fuck it, if I really am nothing then nobody would stop me taking that rope and jumping. So I took it, tied it around my little neck and proceeded to jump when my mum bust in the door. I didn’t know what to do, I didn’t know what to say. I saw the tears in her eyes, I felt the pain go away. How could I feel so selfish? How could I think that I was nothing when the person who gave me life obviously thought that I was something. Now I pray, pray for the people who never saw the light, pray for the people who still cry at night. Those people think of my words as protection. Think of them as the light when you fight depression. ‘Cause I know what it’s like, I’ve been there before, but for every closed room, I’m here to an open door. 

Ain’t that something?

starting my day with a coffee and a cigarette. :3

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