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Hidden Hate
It’s amazing how easily people can be fooled with a simple smile and a laugh. No one knew that inside I hate myself. A lot of people tell me I am pretty, but when I look into that mirror every morning, I see the ugliest person in the world. I see someone who’s lost, helpless, and hurt. No one has seen my hidden hate.
Ever since I was little and understood that my brothers would never be normal I became depressed. That depression has stuck with me ever since. The only thing that changed is that I got good at hiding it. No one could see beyond this mask I wear. There’s only one place where I don’t where this mask: my room. In my room, I am myself. I openly hate myself by cutting and drinking. Cutting to feel something, and drinking to drown out the thoughts of suicide. If only people knew.
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