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MY PARENTS FUCKING WIN OKAY?
THEY HATE WHO I AM SO I’M FORCING MYSELF TO CONFORM TO WHATEVER THEY WANT ME TO BE
BECAUSE FUCK WHAT I WANT, FUCK HOW I FEEL
NOPE, THEY KNOW BETTER THAN ME
SO I DON’T GET TO BE MYSELF ANYMORE,
I HAVE TO THROW AWAY EVERYTHING ABOUT WHO I AM
BECAUSE MY PARENTS SAY ITS WRONG
so i can’t talk to any of you ever again
because apparently i’m not allowed to do what i want anymore.
I honestly never thought I’d be writing this note. I went from being so happy to so, so sad in a matter of days. I couldn’t tell anyone about this weird feeling inside me because no one ever listened to me. I honestly am so glad I’m doing this now, better than never, right? Oh well, better explain why.
People, they can make you feel so loved to so worthless. My best friend turned on me, over what? A rumor that they chose to believe over their friend. Shows how good my friends are, right? I didn’t really know that I was going to do this until A week ago, when my world that I built up came crumbling down around my feet. It was the little things at first I didn’t care about. The dirty looks, the talking behind my back. Those were whatever, bitches will be bitches, right? But then it turned into so much more, the notes in my locker, being called faggot everyday by people I called my “friends”. I started feeling like this black cloud followed me around everywhere, and no matter what I did, I couldn’t escape the damn thing. I figured the only way to get rid of it was to get rid of myself.
Mom, Dad, thank you for everything you guys have done for me, I’m sorry that t came to what it came to. Dylan, you were the best little brother, and I pray that you’re not the one that finds me. Kathy, Tyler, McKay, fuck you guys. You went running when all I needed was a friend.
I guess this is all I have to say, goodbye everyone.
AGAIN IM GOING TO SAY ITS A WRITING PIECE AND NOT REAL LIFE, IM NOT KILLING MYSELF
I have self harmed. I have made myself throw up. I have hated myself for eating something. I’ve thought of suicide countless times since I turned 10. I hadn’t self harmed in almost a year until October 24th. The day after I found out my best friend, Angie, had been cutting herself. I still hate myself for eating. I still think of killing myself almost every second of everyday. And I need help. I am fucked up in the head and I need help. I’m sorry, McKenzie. I know you’re reading this and I never wanted to tell you any of this. I’m sorry, Nik. I still don’t trust you enough to open up to you and it’s killing me and the girls. I want to get your help. But, I don’t want to risk it biting back someday.