Playing with glass

Dear diary, this is me (Possible trigger warning)


23. why?

Sunday 22nd November 2015, 4:43pm:


I don't know why i write this, i don't want to remember these days, nights or anything really. 

But, if i don't write this i'd be lying about what life was really like. And without these things i wouldn't be who i am. I'm a mess, that's who i am.

I broke down last night, i reached my breaking point. I went crazy, i'm insane.

Why do people say "cheer up!" as if its that easy, as if happiness is a choice. Don't you think that if it was a choice i would of chosen that, because i would if i had the choice long ago! It's not that easy, it's not a choice, the don't understand me. No one understands me, but my voices, the voices in my head do. They'll be there forever! Maybe its best they don't understand. The voices, so loud, they understand, they're all i need.


i feel so empty. 

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