Dear Mom, Dad, siblings, friends, teachers, and everybody else,
I am so depressed it’s not even funny. I am paranoid, schitzoid, OCD, angry, sad, broken. My home life consists of screaming and passive aggressive behavior. My school days consist of and endless battle with the strive for perfection, and competition with everybody else. My carrer is only my facade of happiness, I am far too good at it. My time spent alone is filled with the thoughts of my inner demons, telling me how weak I truly am. I still cut. The old scars are still there, but new ones reside beside them. And today when I was getting ready to take a bath, I took my razor with me. I layed in the tub, steamy water covering my body, and sliced across my hips,across so many other lines. What if one day I want to cut too deep? What if one day I get tired of crying, tired of the hurt, tired of fake smiles? I fear that day may come.