Why cant things be like they were when I wasn’t depressed. When j could have worry free fun with friends. When I could be care free. When both me and my friends were happy? On the bus today I was asked who I like better, my abusive ex-stepfather or my verbally abusive psychotic mother. I picked my stepfather in an instant. That answer didn’t even shock me. I’m not sure why. It should. Either way life is hell and its not getting better. But does anyone care to help me? No.
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