I was lying on the bed, I had just taken the medicine, and now I felt much calmer. I keep thinking about every moment of our past year in my mind. You said you would take good care of me, you said you would love me forever, but you still left me covered in bruises! Self-harm, depression, abortion, madness. . These are all what you gave me! I tried hard not to think about it, but I couldn't do it! The memory of it tortures me and I can't get rid of it! I don't know why, but I like to write down our stories while licking my wounds, but every time I think of every bit of it, it's like stabbing me in the body with a knife, and every time it stabs me in the heart! Then find the pleasure of relief in this mental torture of self-abuse!
I just want to talk, find a place where no one knows where no one knows me...
The story is true, the characters have pseudonyms, the author has been diagnosed with depression and is being treated for depression, and is often confused...
Flowers fall like a dream, time flies by, and I embark on that heart-wrenching journey again with scars all over my body...