Scarlet Vee

Tell me, would you cry when I take my own life? Would you come to my funeral when I'm gone forever?

So what do you do if being alive hurts so much again...

I hate my life with a passion...

Yet I still sit here, wondering, if the hospital called you if something happened to me, would you answer? Would you care? Would you still visit...?

I gave up hope that you care about me at all, but my mind still wanders towards you, thinks about you, and my heart still has feelings for you.

I hate that my antidepressants are "working" because they force me to be present all the time. They stop me from crashing out and feeling strong emotions. They stop me from dissociating. They make me look and seem okay.

I reached a stage of mental illness where I just stopped telling people about my issues. I stopped showing and telling people I self harm. I stopped telling them how bad I feel, how much I hate my life.