"...What can you do when you can’t ask for help? When you don’t know how to speak? How do you react? How do you breathe? How do you live? Make the bruise worse because I don’t know how to make it better. I feel like such an asshole for doing this, it’s so obvious, but what choice did I have when I just couldn’t speak? I was just so anxious and so sad all I could do was cause harm to myself. Sooner or later someone will see and I’ll be in trouble and it will look stupid and attention seeking. So now I just hate myself even more. I’m going for the last smoke I’ll probably be allowed to have...."
the lost notebooks of a girl in &out of psychiatric wards &rehab &detox. a story of pain &recovery.




