I am proud of myself. I know it’s stupid but I am proud that I have made it this far into 2018 and that I continue to wake up everyday.

I am severely depressed. All I’ve ever known is my life through my depressed, anxious, ptsd eyes. I don’t remember anything before the age of 8 and anything after up until 20 was filled with pain and evil around me. I’ve tried so hard to waste away but too scared to end it all myself. But I fight everyday to get up and live. To get by just enough to take care of my son and give him what he needs in life. I still hate myself more than I can describe and I still flinch when people are near me but I fight the bad everyday. I am proud for getting through everyday even when it feels so impossible to breath.