(WARNING: THIS CHAPTER IS SERIOUS, AND WILL INSTANTLY PUT YOU IN A BAD MOOD. VIEWER DISCRETION IS ADVISED)

(I'm still very hesitant to post this. I'm sorry)

Ok. Um... How do I even start this?

This is gonna be a really dark chapter. If you're sensetive to topics like suicide, or self harm, please leave now. Or, maybe you don't care about what I have to say. If so, you're also welcome to leave.

I don't know how to say this..

I have Depression.

It's not walking depression anymore. It's gone too far. I've done too many terrible things.

I'm talking about it on wattpad because I know that you guys will listen. You won't brush me off like I don't even matter.

I feel broken. I feel battered. Sometimes, I feel nothing. I don't know how to explain the feeling, but it's slowly tearing me apart.

I felt like complete shit watching everyone's lives going to hell. I felt hopeless knowing that there was nothing I could do about it...

It's none of your guy's fault. It's my own fault for being so dumb.

I became desperate. I searched around my house for a screwdriver, and I finally found one.

Do you know where this is heading?

I took out one of my pencil sharpeners, and unscrewed it. I popped out the blade, and I started.. cutting.

I didn't even realize how serious it was. I just did it to escape. Something about watching myself bleed calms me down.

Before I even knew it, it was like some sick and twisted addiction. I had urges, and followed. If I felt like it, I cut.

(Man, I hope I don't get reported for this)

I tried to talk about it, but nobody took me seriously. They either didn't care, didn't listen to me, or got angry with me.

Eventually, my mom found out. She wasn't happy at all. She told me that if she saw one more cut on me, she'd take me to the hospital.

She also said that she'd search EVERYWHERE for cuts. EVERYWHERE. I'm not joking when I say that.

So, now I'm screwed. I have cuts on my legs, and she's gonna find them.

She said that I need mental help. I need counseling, and I need a psychiatrist.

I'm not feeling too bad right now, actually. I feel better now that I've vented about everything. I just.. I wish I could go back in time and fix this. I want to tell my past self that it's not worth it.

I'm gonna try and stop. And please, don't self harm. You could get serious life threatening infections, or you could accidentally bleed out.

I was stupid for starting. Please, I'm begging you. There are other ways of dealing with your pain.

I'm sorry that I had to say this. I just really needed to get this off my chest.

Thanks for listening.