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this describes how i feel
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i need a leather jacket
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where can i get that shirt
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i need to start getting tattoos as soon as possible
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/ / glow / dark pale / / 
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you don’t have to read this but today is world mental health day and i want to open up a bit:
i have been battling with depression and anxiety for over two years now. i was bullied hard from preschool all the way up to middle school and i also didn’t have the best luck with making friends so i was always alone and i kept quiet and to myself. i didn’t tell anybody. i felt like shit all the time but i still managed to be happy all through that pain i felt. the bullying stopped in high school but i still kept to myself and didn’t talk much. i started to make friends, good ones, but i was always thinking to myself “don’t fuck this up” because i wasn’t really sure how to be a good friend. i made it through the first two years of high school quite well and it wasn’t until junior year where i started to have nightmares every night about being beat up as a little kid. i really felt like i didn’t matter. i started to actually think i deserved to get bullied and beat up. i, myself, thought i was “a piece of shit” and that “nobody would miss [me] if [i] killed [myself].” i stopped sleeping, eating, and socializing with people. i started thinking about killing myself. once a week. twice a week. once a day. twice a day. once every hour. twice every hour. until i thought about it every fucking minute of the day. until one day, i wrote some letters, grabbed a bottle of pills, and locked myself in the bathroom. i remember sitting down on the floor and my phone kept vibrating over and over and over again so i got it out to turn it off. thankfully, i checked to see who was texting me so much before i did anything. it was my friend sending me texts saying “are you okay? here if you need to talk” and i decided to tell him what i was about to do. i wrote him paragraphs worth of stuff and i remember him calling me right there and then. i didn’t pick up the first two times because i was crying too much to talk. he left a voicemail though that i still think about a lot. in his voice i could tell that he was scared for me and that he loved me. it was such a weird feeling. i’d never felt cared about, let alone loved. i put the pills down and i just talked to him. i talked to him all through the night and i will never be able to repay him for doing that for me. i can’t tell you how many time i’ve thought about killing myself since that day. i have even come close to going through with it. i always remember all the stuff he told me though and it helps me get through those nights. to this day, he is there for me and i can’t describe how good that feels.
at the beginning of this year i told a second friend about everything and he also made a huge impact on me. not only did he stay up with me and talk to me when i needed it, but he told me something that helped me so much: “you’re not crazy. you’re sick. this isn’t your fault. you’re sick” and in that moment it hit me that i was sick. that i am sick.
you see, the point i’m trying to make by telling you all of this is that you need to talk about it. even if you tell one person. please tell someone. i didn’t tell a soul how i felt so nobody knew i was sick. shit, not even i knew i was sick until my friend told me. i just thought i wasn’t worth anything. and i do. i matter. i know that now because of my fucking amazing friends. and although i’m getting better, there are days where it’s tough and i cry (a lot) and stay home and feel like a “piece of shit” but i think of killing myself less and less each day because i talked/talk about it. i’m so proud of the progress i’ve made so far. you can get better to if you get help and talk about it. it’s so important that you do. tell a friend. tell a parent. tell a counselor. just, please tell someone. speak up. trust me. it gets better once you do.

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