Today at work, I saw a girl like me. Her name was Bernadette. She was pretty-but not pretty in the striking kind of way. She was subtly pretty. And she was nice. She said thank you. And she waited patiently for her pizza.
...When I brought it outside to her, that’s when I saw the marks. The scars running up and down her arms. I don’t know how I missed it before. It must have been the way the sunlight hit her arms—it made it impossible not to notice. The light lines indenting her skin...She took her pizza and left.
...And I’m pissed. I’m so mad. I’m so mad I could scream. It’s not fair. It’s not fair that she feels that kind of pain. It’s not fair someone so pretty and nice feels like that. Sure, I got what I deserved, but she didn’t. No one deserves to feel that pain...except me. And I wish I could take it all away. But I can’t. I feel so powerless...
Slowly losing faith again…
Tension headaches 
Struggling with medication
i do not want to be a mom. 
