ever since the hospital people have been treating me differently. like i’m this person i need to be watched or taken care of all the time, like when i fall down or cry or have a breakdown they immediately think i’m depressed. the second i ask where the razors are my mom thinks i’m gonna self harm. the second i get mad and show it, i’m irresponsible and immature. the second i go in my room and close the door, someone tells me not to isolate myself and they get me in shit for walking into my own fucking room. if i tell my cousin i miss my dog, i get a text from my aunt telling me that it’s all gonna be okay but i shouldn’t isolate myself and listen to sad music. the second i get into a room alone with me and my grandma she guilts me and tells me i’m stupid for doing what i did. she tells me that i’m loved and she doesn’t think i know that. the second i show that i’m upset my mom questions me if i’m taking my medicine. yes i’m taking my medicine and yes i know i’m loved and i knew i was loved when i tried to overdose. i didn’t try to overdose because i felt unwanted. i wanted to die because one of the people who i love the most, doesn’t want anything to do with me. my dad said he wished i didn’t exist, he wished that he had another daughter. i was 7 and i was watching him beat the shit out of my dog and everyday of living i blamed myself for when he died. because i could’ve been there for him but i wasn’t because i couldn’t face my dad. and i tried so hard to fight it on my own and honestly i did really good for a bit. but then there wasn’t a point to fight anymore so i gave up. i knew i was loved but even though this is selfish, i didn’t care. i wanted to be with my grandpa and my bestfriend. my dog died and when he died a part of me died. i couldn’t find the hope anymore. there wasn’t a point to fighting. yes i take my medicine everyday, 3 pills every morning. yes i know i’m loved. yes i know not to self harm. yes i know that i tried to kill myself 2 times and i know i have scars and i know i’m depressed. but i’m fucking trying my best. and people keep acting like i’m gonna fall apart or just because i’m sad that i’m not taking my medicine. they look at me like i’m gonna break every night and every day. like i’m a broken record.