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I am a seventeen year old girl who is ackward, depressed, anxious, and has hs. But I'm totally normal. Thats what my therapist and parents say.
I have a home and a dog and a sibling. I have food in the fridge and clothes on my back. Why do I complain? Thats what my therapist wants to say to me when I tell him that looking up hs online will scare him. His responce was, nothing could be worse than war. While I agree with that statement 50% percent of the time, this isnt apart of that 50%. This is my life, my struggle, my sleep interupted because There is blood and puss in my underwear. This is me at my weakest moment. Don't tell me there is something worse than this because to me this is death, this is my mother telling me that it's just me being unclean and overweight, this is my youth being spent called fat, large, whale, useless, forgetable, dumb, idiotic, stupid, worthless, and (my personal favorite) too fat to be kidnapped. This is me crying in the middle of the night becase I feel incapable of reciving love and having intamacy. This is me yearnign to have some one to talk to me, to call me beautiful for once in my life and really mean it. This is my struggle to think that one day I will be able to hold hands with a guy I like and to have my first kiss, to have my first of everything. This is my struggle to remain sane because I have to deal with people who think that they have a tougher life and deserve more than me. This is me wanting to wear a short skirt once before I die and not be ashamed, to raise my hand in public with a short sleeved shirt and not want to cringe when I realize that some scars are showing. This is me not wanting to wake up in the morning to see the mirror and realize while I dont have any boils today that I get to see the old scars that will never fade away. This is me not being able to trim or wax my private parts because heaven forbid I touch sensitive skin prone to flare ups. Thsi is me not being able to touch myself because evrytime I try, I just look at myself and begin to tear down my delf esteems again. This is me thinking that I have to lose weight to ever think of myself pretty and having to plan for elective plastic surgery in the future.
So don't tell me that my struggle is any less than someone else when you havent had to look at yourelf and really questions if you should even live because who would care if you really went away. When even your own family blames your for everything little boil that pops up.
When you do all this then come and tell me that I have nothing to worry about, that one day I will be ale to dress like a normal teenager and be happy.
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