mental illness

if you can make a girl like me laugh… just… i know everything seems crazy right now, for both of us, but you give me hope and i need you.  i want this to be enough for you to… i don’t know… i do worry about you dying… i worry about you “self harming,” whatever the fuck that means… ya know for me its like… “living life” at this point because i stopped being that good little girl if i ever was her and ptsd is real and it makes you do things you know are wrong, but you do them anyway, and you become this other person, but you know its not really you.

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