It’s been three since this first started. Three years of tears, fights, and surviving. I saw my friends leave my life like I didn’t exist, like I never meant anything to them. And at some point I was alone, alone in this battle. I watched my mom cry, I watched my family being hopeless. I didn’t only hurt myself, but anyone around me. I feel so ashame that after all what they did for me, I’m still here with the same problemS, the same emotions. People act like depression and selfharm and suicide is are beautiful things, but they are not. Destroying your mind and body is crazy, insane. But we keep fighting and still getting up in the morning, and for me, sometimes that will have to be enough.