The inbox message

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• I received this message in the inbox. The girl (who's a friend of mine) asked if I could post this part in my book. So I did. •

It was just a few months ago, maybe a year, that I looked around on the internet. That I saw pictures of things I didn't even realize where real.

It was just a few months ago, maybe a year, that I thought I was strong. That I thought I could get over everything myself.

I had beaten a somewhat eating disorder and sad feelings. I got over them all by myself, every time again.

It was just a few months ago, maybe a year, that I didn't even know suicide was a big thing. It was rare for me, that people ended their own life because they were sad. It was something I didn't know.

Now I'm here. A few months, maybe a year, later and I realize I've turned into that girl that looks at sad Tumblr posts because I can relate to them.

I've turned into that girl that keeps everything inside because I don't want people to... to what? To worry about me? To think I'm an attention seeker? To think I'm crazy?

I've turned into that girl that puts up depressing status' because there's no where I can turn.

I'm stuck here, inside my own mind, because I've locked myself in there. I've forbidden myself to talk about my problems. About the stupid things I've done. About what I feel when it's late at night and I'm alone.

I've turned into the girl that things about suicide, though she always said she would never be able to do something like that.

And the scariest thing is that I know I could commit suicide without hesitating. I would do it. Right now, at this moment, I would do it.

If I knew how.

Which I don't.

I've turned in everything I thought I'd never be. Things that seemed impossible to me, became realization.

They became my daily life.

They became everything I am right now.

And I don't know how to get rid of it. Of the feelings and thoughts. Of everything I have become. I don't know how to change it all around again.

I'm unhappy. That's the only right word for it. I could use depressed, sad, lonely. But all that together makes me unhappy. The opposite of what I'm supposed to be.

I think I'm lost. That I've lost the path I thought I was walking on. That I've lost all control over myself, my life, my dreams.

I'm sorry that I need to bother you with this Kyran. But I have no where to post it.

Will you post it in your book?

I have the feeling it would be a good place for this.

Thank you for this message. I also have the feeling this is a good place for it.

- Kyran

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