When I was 6 I started self-harming and when I was 11 I started smoking, I don’t regret what I did but I regret why it happened. I feel guilty that my parents didn’t love me enough to give me the attention I needed, I feel guilty that I had to find it in other places with older people who influenced me to do those things. I feel guilty that my sister was the only one who received any real love and affection. I feel guilty that I’m alive. I feel guilty I didn’t die -that- day. I just feel guilty for existing at this point…
