May 25


When I was 14 years old I regretted being born.
Telling my mother I self harm was probably the worst decision I had ever made.
The disappointment on her face made me want to completely disappear.
It was as if I was always supposed to be happy, and I had failed her.
When I was 15 years old I regretted not keeping my mouth shut.
I guess depression isn't real, and if I worked hard labor I would really know what it's like to hurt.
When I was 16 years old I regretted crying so much.
I have anxiety, and that's perfectly okay.
I just have to say what I'm feeling to others, not keep it inside.
When I was 17 years old I stopped regretting the decision I had made at the age of 14 to stay alive.