Another day, another reason of hate. I thought I was getting better the more I strive to do better the more I get set back, I lose myself I lose my friends. I feel alone, I thought I was better from getting stabbed 7 times, from losing my child, from losing a girl I was trauma bonded to, but I’m still here. Sadness,the only true thing I can rely on. Happy songs turn sad, sad songs turn to ending it. When does it get better I ask myself, I don’t know. I really don’t know. 18 and can count on only myself. I wish, I really wish I didn’t have to drink to feel somthing.