To every broken soul out there,
Never give up
__________🤍🤍_________
My name is Jessica and this is my story.
There was a time when I was happy. When everything just felt right. When playing with toys was the most fun thing in the world, and hot chocolate was a tradition during the wintertime. When my mum would read me story’s before I went to sleep. When going to school meant lots of fun and many friends.
They say that time can heal, but I think time brings memories back, let’s you reminisce more and more about what you had but never will have again. Time doesn’t heal. It only makes you get used to something, to a situation.
It breaks your hopes that maybe all this didn’t happen, that it is just a dream.
At some point, you wish you could wake up with amnesia. To forget everything, to bear the pain.
Then, you have nothing. Nothing to remember, nothing to think about, nothing to cry about, nothing to let you down. Nothing to blame your self for. Just nothing.
Every day you find yourself thinking about what happened, wondering if anything could have changed. And then memories come flouting back making you cry. You break down every day again. You drown every day even more, and when you hit the bottom, it’s the end.
My mum was always a hard working woman, she was kind, considering towards people. She was amazing.
My dad on the other hand though was well I can’t call him a dad he was more a sperm- doner, he cared more about himself than others he was a lot different compared to my mum.
I’m still hear because of something, not someone. I have no one. No one is standing by my side. No one to laugh with. I cry myself to sleep every night and blame myself for everything if I had shut my fucking mouth, if I had stayed silent, mute, maybe today I would be happy, laughing.
Today a tear ran down my face as I pushed a blade up to my arm. I was crying but never loud enough for anyone to hear screaming but no one could hear, shaking with fear every time some touched my soft angelic skin. Trembling with tears as someone called me beautiful getting flash backs to the time a guy decided to force himself on me at the young age of fourteen.
Getting the same suicidal thoughts every day but for some reason there getting worse.
Screaming out for help, no one listens though, wanting for everything to end but they never did.
It’s funny how someone who used to be so happy full of joy could become so depressed wanting to die.
But let me start from the beginning where it all started...