My family claims I live a good life, that most people would want a taste of what I have. My sisters goes on and on how I’m lucky to be alive, because before I meant them I was dying. Yes I am grateful to be still breathing on this earth, but to what cost. I traded in my death for a life of mental torment.
I adopt to living in a home where my sanity slowly faded away and driven me to the edge. I have grown to always of the edge of death, and have grown to even hate myself beyond what could ever be imagine. I have grown to crave my death, to crave for freedom of the hell. For me it has seem I did die and put into hell for something I have yet to understand why.
But every time my sisters goes about how lucky I am, and how someone wishes to be me it frustrated me because I would never wish for someone to be driven into hell when they are still so young. I would want that person, would believes want my life, to have a better life than me. That person would has the will to live should have it, but also be able to keep their sanity.
A life where a person is able to live and grow is nothing if the piece they pay is their own sanity. I wouldn’t want anyone how has the will to live die inside. I don’t wish that on anyone, because when you die inside you want to give up on life. So many times I’ve long to just give up and end it all. So many times I’ve stand in front of the mirror wishing what I saw was someone else. So many times I’ve looked at a blade with the thought of just finishing it. So many times I wished I would have run-away. But what good is it to give up on the very gift I was given. Even though I’m going to hell and trying to escape, without killing myself, I would never want someone to have my life.
I would want that person to have a better life than me. I would that person not only have the means to live but also have the means to keep their sanity.