28 July.
Its 1:25am and I'm in my tent with a sore throath, and the tears streaming down my face.
If my brother wasn't here I would have cut already.
So I was at the poolbar tonight, and there are stairs to the roof, and all the "cool" guys went up there and I sat with my friends downstairs right under them.
Then at some moment some guy spat at me. At my shoulder. So f'cking disgusting. I was so angry and I went to sit at the other side, to see who did it. I didn't know.
Later, the guys went downtairs and they laughed at me and talked about me all night. And it just sucks because I'm really insecure and when something happens I can't even take that well.
So with all this b'llsh't it went really wrong. Words can hurt, and they cut like knifes.
But its night here and I'm still discussing if I should take my blades or not. My brother just went to sleep so I might aswell.. I don't know.
I feel so terrible.
[A/N.
So goodnight!
Maybe I'll update tomorrow!]
YOU ARE READING
My story.
Non-FictionI never wrote stuff before. But this might be my first "story". I think I'm going to write down what I have to go through everyday. I'm suicidial, selfharming and depressed. Maybe writing will calm me down. Let's just try it *** This contains self h...
