I used to write

I used to write about everything that made me sad. I used to write every darn day about something that was wrong with me, I wrote about all the bad things that went through my head. Like i was to fat to be eating, that I needed to throw up the salad I just ate, that i wasnt good enough and that no body loved me ,that maybe just push a little harder with the blade next time and it could all be over. I spent years suffering in silence. I made so many scars all over my body that I have to look at every day and remember what I did. And I'm not going to lie it hurts, it hurts knowing I spent 5 or so years trying to destroy myself. It hurts that for some stupid reason I found it impossible to tell someone what I was doing. Even to this day I can not bring myself to tell my parents how bad my depression was. But I don't write anymore, and I think it's a good thing because although I may be sad about the years lost to my mental illness. I'm not the same kind of sad that I was. I'm not trying to destroy myself. I'm learning to live and slowly learning to love who I am. And that's okay.