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Just bent down to pick something up. When I did, pain shot through my back. I can't bend over now, or breathe in too deeply, or it hurts. Gah. That's awful. It sends fire down my back.
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There are so many things wrong with me, and sometimes I believe there is more than what is diagnosed. I fear never healing, being left alone to crawl this heartless, cruel world. I hate myself so much, and sometimes, as much as I hate them, all I really want is a heartfelt hug. Will I ever make it through this thing called life? Or will I drown in the darkest depths of the ocean? Only time can tell. As for now, I just hide and I fear. This is, and will always be my life. 
Last edited by DarknessForever; May 01, 2016 at 08:18 AM.
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