I had to kill myself to live again.
I feel this sense of calm and peace that used to live within.
I’m from a small town where everyone travels the same old fucked up road. I’ve always been the black sheep.
I never fit in and didn’t care to. This whole cliche’ life and I was always trying to prove myself to my mother who is toxic.
I would never bash or slander my mom, she is the strongest, funniest, person I know. Her mothering skills were just to protect not nurture.
Crying? No. Hugging? No. Expressing? No. She has this wicked mind of survival. It made me tough, but so tough that I don’t know anything else. I couldn’t stand who I was.
that’s why I killed myself.