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Literature Text
I am a daughter
To a father who is a pedophile and a mother who didn't protect me
I am a sister
To six siblings, five sisters and one brother
I am a mother
To my little boy, who is my reason to keep on living
I come from physical abuse
Years by the hands of a step father who hated me, and a mother who just watched from the distance
I come from mental and emotional abuse
Loved one second, hated another, and told over and over again how bad, worthless, and unneeded I am
I come from sexual abuse
Scary nights learning things I shouldn't of learned so young , no one believing me till the FBI came
I locked away the pain
And started cutting
I stopped smiling
And learned to fake my way though life
I am not my father, I am not my mother
But my biggest fear is that deep down I am
I wished for death and attempted so many times
The grim reaper must really hate me
I am not religious
God has forsaken me years ago
I have watched my own blood flow
And sometimes that self inflicted pain is what got me though my day
I don't know what true love is
But I can pretend
I have Post Traumatic stress and chronic depression
Fun huh?
I try my best to do what's right for my son
But sometimes I wonder if I am what's right for him
I self mutilate, I get depressed, I get emotional, I get suicidal
If I medicate all I can do is sleep, so I stress trying to do it on my own
I know next time I drive down the highway I'll think
If only my son wasn't with me….I'd close my eyes and say my last goodbyes
To a father who is a pedophile and a mother who didn't protect me
I am a sister
To six siblings, five sisters and one brother
I am a mother
To my little boy, who is my reason to keep on living
I come from physical abuse
Years by the hands of a step father who hated me, and a mother who just watched from the distance
I come from mental and emotional abuse
Loved one second, hated another, and told over and over again how bad, worthless, and unneeded I am
I come from sexual abuse
Scary nights learning things I shouldn't of learned so young , no one believing me till the FBI came
I locked away the pain
And started cutting
I stopped smiling
And learned to fake my way though life
I am not my father, I am not my mother
But my biggest fear is that deep down I am
I wished for death and attempted so many times
The grim reaper must really hate me
I am not religious
God has forsaken me years ago
I have watched my own blood flow
And sometimes that self inflicted pain is what got me though my day
I don't know what true love is
But I can pretend
I have Post Traumatic stress and chronic depression
Fun huh?
I try my best to do what's right for my son
But sometimes I wonder if I am what's right for him
I self mutilate, I get depressed, I get emotional, I get suicidal
If I medicate all I can do is sleep, so I stress trying to do it on my own
I know next time I drive down the highway I'll think
If only my son wasn't with me….I'd close my eyes and say my last goodbyes
Literature
Depression
Lay down your right to be human.
Put on a dazzling smile so that no one can see your pain.
You hide it all so well, but underneath your shirt you can still feel the scars.
No one knows what it is like to be you.
Your smile is but one in a billion,
A mask that you wear to ward off the questions.
Your scars are your war paint,
But this is a losing battle.
You are sent to face the demons all alone, though they will never leave your side.
So keep that pretty smile steady,
And don't let one tear drop from those stormy eyes.
Put on your war paint and go out into the world, where your smile makes you just like them.
Literature
Depression is
Depression is an ocean,
unpredictable and unwavering.
Its depths are deep.
Its Highs are shallow.
Depression is the sky,
amazing and determined.
Its depths reach our soul.
Its highs touch the heavens.
Depression is the sun,
Mysterious and huge.
Its depths are unimaginable.
Its Highs wish to swallow the earth.
Depression is...me...is it you?
Literature
Hate.
I hate myself.
I mean someone has to.
I look in the mirror and all I see,
Is someone ugly.
No matter how hard I try,
And no matter what I say or do,
I mess everything up.
Nothing goes right,
Everything goes wrong.
I can't do anything right.
I want to please everyone,
If I can't be happy then
I should at least make others happy.
I mess everything up.
I can't make anyone happy.
I hate myself.
So do me a favor,
And hate me too.
Because if you hate me,
Then I don't have to hate myself.
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my story in short, yes i have PTSD and Chronic Depression along with a few borderline things but those might not count for much.
The past is the past for a reason, but sometimes the past is what haunts us most.
The past is the past for a reason, but sometimes the past is what haunts us most.
Comments64
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Reading this honestly hurts my heart. I hope all is well with you and you're son. I wasn't sure If I should favorite this or not, but I think more people need to see this. Take care.