I'm not sure, but there was a time when I was recovering in which my heart was filled with hope and I could see myself living a long, fulfilled life. Although, even at that state of mind I would often think about how I ruined my chances. I had a lot of potential, I know I'm a smart person and maybe even attractive, I'm young and I'm likable, I could have had everything. But I destroyed my body, I made bad choices who will haunt me forever and most of my traumas were consequential. If I didn't make the choice to destroy myself nothing so bad would've happened, but I did. If I could go back in time, before all of the scars, before I ruined my mother, this would make me want to live. I used to be a good person, a great daughter, an amazing friend. Now I'm hollow. If I could have the chance to do it again, I would live life to the fullest and make sure I keep watering my heat and worrying about others. Even if I still felt pain, I would keep on going. But now it's inevitable that my pain hurts others and I can't see anybody being able to truly love me when I'm stuck in this body and with all of this trauma. If nothing of this mattered, I would keep living regardless.