When I was nine, I wanted to stab myself. At the time, I didn’t know what was going on. I had no legitimate reason behind wanting to kill myself at that age. My mother, of course, signed me up for therapy not quite getting what was going on herself. I suffered from panic and anxiety attacks for a while.
Now, I’m sixteen and it has gotten worse. I hate myself. I hate how I look, talk, act, and everything about me. I can spend my days locked in my room crying, screaming, and pulling my hair out. I can spend my days laughing, smiling, and hanging out with friends. I […]