You’re not alone.

I don’t really see a point in this whole life thing. You wake up, do your daily routine, something happens that kills you inside, you go home and cry, then you fall asleep. At least, that’s how it is in my book. I remember when I used to be happy. When I could go outside and play with the other kids in the neighborhood. When I could put on my mothers clothes and tell her I was going to be just like her. What happened? I went from that, to being so sensitive to everything that happens in my life. And it sucks because I feel like everyone knows that under these hoodies and long sleeves, and zig-zag cuts explaining a story that wont have a happy ending. I feel like they know im dying inside. And I KNOW they don’t see any of those things. I was just thinking they did because I needed help. And the help I got two years ago, still isn’t helping today. And I don’t know how much longer I will be able to last in this world.. Because the neighbors I used to play with outside everyday now want to kill me because of drugs. Me telling my mommy I wanted to be like her, turned into us screaming at each over the stupidest things. And me being happy turned into me being depressed day in, day out. Why is life so hard?