Depression is serious

Depression is serious

Here I was looking down feeling nothing but hopelessness, stress, anxiety.

The extreme purge of trying to murder the feelings, the thoughts, trying to murder myself. I run my hand down the side of my face feeling the burn of my mother’s palm. I have a headache and my ears are struggling hear anything. This isn’t the first time she’s hurt me it’s been more. I pull my sleeve up and grab out a scissor from my bed side drawer. I start to slit the skin from my wrist creating a scar and allowing blood to ripple from my wrist and onto the red carpet. I then bring my hand up to my face and remove the tear and wiping it onto my jersey. And again and again this would happen until I was full of scars down both of my arms.

Then I told my friend – let’s just say his name was Josh. Josh was my loyal friend space between words boy who was a friend. I messaged him saying this, “Josh I wanna kill myself….” he then replied saying, “I do too Lorena.” Then after that whole sentence of me wanting to kill myself and saying how I wanted to do it turned into a big issue. Josh had then told his parents and his parents had told my teacher and my teacher then had a talk with me about it.

After that I felt like I had no trust for anyone and I had nothing but headaches. I then shouted out loud in 4th period on a Monday morning saying, “I wanna die! I just wanna see me die and see all the blood ripple onto the damn floor.” And by those words everyone could tell I was serious.

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