Bet, I’d call ALL YOU lame assholes out if I didn’t rely on you for essentials like speech, OT, PT, COG THERAPY and the crater in my heart I work to repair daily. Fucking shit is insane. Cry? I do that daily. I wish I could see you to confront you. I know all you’ll ever do is hide your head in the sand because only I have to answer for my insecurities riiight?

Go ahead say I have no grounds to stand on with my accusations because you’re right. I deleted the hundreds of emails I cried in. I start my days with my face in the coffee pot, taking pills and hoping I’ll get high soon. Thanks for caring. You’re a little late ma’am, Miss, Miss and Stan. GTFOH please.
I’m the lucky one. Forgive me for scraping this shit from my skull. I’m working on filling the hole and walking tall over your bullshit. Thanks. Got it out for the morning.
Thanks for censoring this yourself and not taking me seriously again. I’ll look forward to reaching out for help again in about 23 hours and 59 minutes, sucka!

Q: Do you trust me?
A: Can I get ahold of you when I need you?
Are you going to catch me when I fall flat on my face intentionally?
Can I count on you to answer your phone when my number pops up?
Do you feel confident in your support system?
– what’s that feel like?
_. Can I cry on your shoulder?
– are you made to feel like a criminal for waiting to be treated normal?
WE ARE NOT IN THE SAME BOAT, so no.

What really irks me is when I KNOW, SEE and HEAR YOU READ a piece of my writing OUTLOUD and stumble over me/ ask questions how I get through life dealing with this this and that, then continue managing everything on my own with no mention of my dedication and perseverance with no help from you.

ps Sweetie, I know you were looking for more  from me. ALL YOU HAD TO DO WAS ARRANGE CERTAIN furniture differently so we could get some privacy and place a cap over the camera on my wall. 

Good thing no one reads my writing.