They dont know

You are fine they tell me. Suck it up they say. You have a perfect life what is there to cry about? They don't know. They don't know how every night my chest gets heavy and i feel i cant breath, do to my fear of feeling alone. They don't understand how i am too scared to leave or give up on toxic people because when i left my dad i regretted it severely. They don't understand how my friends are the only things keeping me alive so they want to take them away from me. They don't know what it's like to be scared of loosing a single person in your life because the people in your life are the only things making life worth living. They don't get how so many nights I am kept up by voices in my head screaming at me. These voices get so loud sometimes I try to silence them. I silence them by taking my razor and dragging it along my thighs and stomach and arms. They don't know how many suicide letters I have written because I couldn't handle my life I couldn't handle my anxiety I couldn't handle the death of my father I couldn't handle my depression i couldn't handle remembering a man molesting me when i was so young i cant even remember his face. They don't get how i was bullied so much that now no one needs to say anything for negative thoughts to grow in my mind. They don't fucking understand how many times i have descriptively planned my suicide in my head through out the day. They don't get how desperately I try and clutch to happy memories because lately all I am able to make is bad ones. They don't know nor understand my life so why the hell do they expect me to understand the worse lives of others.