This is what I think about most nights. These are the thoughts that bring me to self harm. But I like it. I don't know why. I like the pain feeling. I like the feeling of pain because it means that I can still feel. I wish to stop soon though. Nineteen scars are to many for someone my age. To many for anyone. I am seventeen years old, and I feel as if I have the stress of a forty five year old. Why?
I just wish I could have these answers. I really want to understand. But I don't have any answers. No one does. Everything happens for a reason. But what is my reason? Is it to help others? Is it to show people happiness? Why? Dear God I have got to figure this stuff out. I have too. There has to be a way. I am determined to figure out why this has happened to me. It has destroyed my old life. It has destroyed my old self. But who am I now? Someone better?
So tonight I find myself sitting here, breathing, listening to my breaths. In out, in out, in out, deep breaths. I find myself wondering, thinking, deciding, contemplating, looking at options. I find myself living, surviving, accomplishing.