Do you know that I developed depression because of you? Do you know that at twelve years old, I would sit alone on my bed, staring at my ceiling, tears streaming down my face, wishing that my life would end. Clearly, I wasn’t good enough for you, so what makes me good enough for anybody else? At thirteen, I would ignore stop lights and not care about walking in front of moving cars, because I ultimately wished they would hit me and put me out of my misery. At fifteen, I started dragging razors across my body hoping that just once I would hit the right vein and my life would be over for good. I’m pretty sure you didn’t. Because you never ask, nor do you care enough to listen.
They put me in a hospital and I deadass could’ve went crazy. I was locked in a room by myself all day for a week straight. When I came out, I couldn’t eat with a knife or a fork. They thought I would try to hurt myself with it. I was in that facility for an entire month. While I was in there, I did a lot of thinking. About my life, about my family, about my friends, about myself, about the shit you put us through. I left that place feeling like a new person, but of course, you knocked me back ten steps to where I originally started. But, I am not allowing you to have that level of control over me anymore. I don’t care that I wouldn’t be here if it weren’t for you, I’ve been surviving long enough on my own without you. Don’t try to pull that “I’m your dad” shit on me cuz I don’t wanna hear it. You can either take what I’m saying or leave it. But I know one thing is, I’m fucking leaving.