Everyone has those days where they think dying is better than feeling.
But I'm not like that; I'm not a normal person, I can't just move on and just start dealing.
Those days for me aren't days they are weeks that turn into months which turn into years.
My head is full of screaming voices, despair, and fears.
I can't control myself, I just feel like screaming at the top of my lungs "why me?".
I know I'm getting better because before making it through the week wasn't a guarantee.
Still I sit and think about how horrible I am and all the horrible things I did or said.
And I still think about how many of those pills I would have to take to end this miserable life of mine and finally just be dead.
Despite everything I'm going through I would never do anything to hurt the ones I care about.
Those people for a reason I don't understand believe in me when I am completely full of doubt...
