The cuts on your skin, the red in you eyes..

in the beginning of things, I saw my scars as a mark of rebellion,

a sign that I am strong, and having challenges and conquering shit,

tho at times nothing was going wrong, I was an ATTENTION WHORE!

I was trying to get the attention of literally anyone, whither it’s the girl sitting next to me on the bus, or the guy at the bar or whomever comes my way,, I was secretly looking for sympathy, looking for caring and anyone that I could share my dump invented dark deep stories with, ignoring the fact that most of them were exaggerated or totally made up.

I even came to a point real close to ruining people’s lives just to make my shit sound more real.

and back then I never thought there was anything wrong with me, I was young and accomplishing my goal with getting the amount of attention I just needed.

it seemed so perfect, so clear that I am a rebel, the one who is not afraid to tell the truth and expose everything that is wrong and messed up, but the fact the my truths weren’t real didn’t stop me.

I even came to a point where I really believed my stories and lived them and cried and mourned them, I got so close to committing suicide over shit that doesn’t even exist..

but I’ve ruined myself.

I didn’t give myself a chance to get to know the real me back then, I wonder who was I? if I didn’t do what I did,

maybe I would’ve picked a different path, a path that led to a better place, a place where I’m not trapped seven years later trying to figure out who am I, and counting my losses.

maybe I could’ve been an easy person, with a cool and easy personality that didn’t drive me and pretty much everyone that knows me insane..

maybe life could’ve been easier for me.

tho I did hurt a lot of people, but I also did get hurt in the middle,

losing myself to a dark side of my brain that wanted to feel loved by gaining the empathy of people,

not knowing the difference between love and sympathy.

but I wanted to take all the attention I  could get to fill the void in my heart.

and yeah, maybe yes some bad things happened to me as a child and yeah it did affect my mental health driving me to make it even more dramatic than it really is and also adding up and creating non existing events to make it more harsh and also dramatic, to be honest I could just simply blame it all on my bad mental health back then and get away with it,

but being nearly sane right now makes me think of everything I’ve ever done, maybe it’s my conscience or me just overthinking and being unable to forgive myself and move on.

but it’s surely some mess that I need to deal with and take care of.

I’m here to journal, and to get it all of my chest.

I am here to try and get over every single bad thing, to be able to forgive and move on it’s a huge bless that needs a lot of challenging work.. it’s something great to achieve.

I’ve been struggling for over four years trying to move on and forget, neglecting about forgiving which is the hardest part of them all.

to be able to run free and really feel something beautiful coming out of it all.