11:00 AM (Sunday)

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Laying here on my bed I stare at the wall beside me. For once it seems my thoughts are empty of bad memories.

Which is refreshing.

I'm not always full of bad thoughts and memories. Some of which isn't my fault. Many of them are, but not all. I did self-harm, had a mental breakdown at school, had panic attacks for a month straight averaging four to five per week, I did push everyone away, I did wallow in my pain, I did think it was the end, and I did want to give up on life. Yet I didn't.

I've been through a lot of shit in my life (we all have) and I've learned a lot from it. I've come to the conclusion that our past doesn't define us. What defines us is what we do now and in the moments that follow.

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