My story

The truth is she’s a mess. Once so well put together. Once was that happy girl that smiled twenty four- seven. The girl that had great friends and was nice to everyone. She was complete with joy. That girl faded. That girl doesn’t exist anymore. A gloomy depressed girl now exists. Battling for her life every day. Battling with life. She went from going out with friends to staying up all night crying. She shut down. No words spoken. But she woke up the next day and painted that smile on her face. Look in her eyes and you will see a world filled with pain. Life can’t be that bad right? What happens so bad to make a happy girl depressed? Was it an alcoholic father? Was it those girls that were mean to you every day? Was it that Halloween someone dressed as you? Was it that abusive ex-boyfriend? What was it? Why won’t she talk to anyone? She doesn’t know how to open up. She bottles it all in for fear of judgement. She bottles it all in because it’s the easiest thing to do. What did she do so wrong?
She drank. Drank all her pain away. Such a great temporary feeling. Never wanting to put that bottle down. Why? She feels worthless. Why?
Months ago she couldn’t take it any longer. She swallowed every pill she could and said goodbye. It wasn’t her time. Too young and innocent.
Months pass and every doctor and therapist tell her things will get better. Why believe it? It’s been 4 years. 4 long damn years and not one thing has gotten better for her. Only worse. She doesn’t show the pain. Or does she? She lashes out on everyone. No intention to… She fights and yells and curses. Why is she so angry?? Why is she so mean?
4 years. That’s all it took. To turn a happy young girl into a bitter mean depressed girl. She continues to try with hope it will get better. But the pain is unbearable. Why does she have to fight with life? Why does she have to drink memories away? Why can’t she put the bottle down? Why did she overdose? Why can’t she just be happy with her life? Why does she put up with the pain?
The truth is- she likes the pain. It makes her feel alive. Deep inside she feels she is already dead. Long gone. The pain makes her feel alive and strong.

~why did she have to deal with all of this? Why couldn’t she have lived a normal life? She shouldn’t feel dead. But she does. And that’s how life works.~