My chest hurts so bad. My family doesn’t believe in depression. I just don’t know. Like I was an all As student, but then quarantine came around and I fell. Hard. I don’t know what the f*** happened. Well no, I do.

I just don’t want to accept it.

I want to write my exams and pass, but it’s hard to hop back. I keep falling more and more behind.

I lost my motivation that’s been driving me since I was 6. I don’t wanna be a surgeon anymore.

I don’t want to be anything anymore.

I’m so tired. So so very tired.

I used to think cutting was stupid. “Used to think”.
I don’t cut though, my family would notice that.

I just hurt myself, just a little, so I can ground myself in my panic attacks. The pain helps so much.
But I need to hurt myself hard to feel it, panic attacks really numb you.

I started to slack off while studying.

I went to a s** chat vid website and started showing my body.
It made me feel good. The comments from a bunch of random strangers felt good.

F*** my life.

I can’t breath. My chest hurts so bad.

I want to hug people all the time.

I want a relationship.

I love my mother, so very much. But sometimes she’s a bit toxic.

She told me depression isn’t real. She said that everyone feels this way and that I’m overreacting. It sounds legit. But in my “studying” sessions I’ve met others who feel the same way as me.

Felt nice to have others.

When I hurt inside, I wanna see blood.
My blood, that is.
But my mom would scream at me if she found a large wound.

My cat always makes me feel good though. He’s sweet and doesn’t judge me.

My sis listens to my suicidal ramblings though. She said cutting was stupid :no offense:.

They used to say I was like a baby elephant, and that no one would want me with my fat thighs and pimple scarred face. Ouch man, that hurt.

My dad cheated on my mom, and told me to bounce back from it. He’s cold sometimes.

I really really just want to die.

It hurts so bad. So very very bad.
I can’t breathe.