the miserable life of a miserable teenager -
tw sertraline
after my first run-in at the hospital.
They were supposed to make me feel better, I believe.
And I stopped taking the pills everyday,
after I first realized what better meant.
Nothing. They made me feel nothing.
A nothing worse than crying myself to sleep every night.
Maybe daily crying is bad, but physically not being able to get a tear to drop, is arguably worse.
So I decided to stash them instead.
Started swallowing about 10 pills,
after the razor didn’t sting enough.
Rushed to the hospital, just to swallow a cup of goddamn charcoal.
And no one cried. Except me.
Now, I have an ignored failed attempt to keep me up at night. Wasn’t good for the tiny ego I had left.
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