I've always known it wasn't me. I wasn't making things up and I absolutely didn't want pity. I just needed an adult to see It was a serious matter. I didn't like throwing fits, I knew how stupid it made me look. I didn't like being me, Everything about life hurt. I saw no reason to be around anymore. Another day, another night mare. Another game of charades where I pretend I am perfectly ok. All because I am afraid that if I don't everyone I love will eventually walk away. Sometimes stuff gets to me and I get so mad and scream then sad and cry then nothing but numb now back to the same. Now I am the bad guy, I am completely to blame. Never blame all the darkness, confusion, and pain. I am supposed to be okay; hold it all together. So everyone else's life will be better. I try to, I swear I really do! But my mind has a different opinion on the matter!