It just makes me angry I guess. Them thinking that the moment they found out I was suicidal, that I suddenly got better in the blink of an eye, after a freaking year of thoughts about ways to die, and what dying would feel like.
I hate that they think I’m all better now. I hate them for thinking that they can fix me. I hate them for thinking I’m sick. I hate them for thinking that I know nothing about what’s going on around me. I DO! I know more than they do, I know exactly what I was doing, that’s why I did it.
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