I want to go back, I've sunken to my lowest of lows. I have no relief, no where to go. Trying to survive another year is the struggle I currently face, along with the constant cravings for artificial happiness and his cigarette taste. I keep trying to move on from my thoughts of destruction but for my intelligence and good heart there's already been an abduction. The constant urge to cry and scream the triumphant name of death, is the hardest thing I've ever had to deal with and the most horrible feeling I have ever felt. I want to lay numb in a corner, like in the life I use to live. Myself and so many others have already given up on me. So why shouldn't I? Why shouldn't I go back? Why shouldn't I revive that person I use to be? I can't be saved, these are the battles I will face forever. Even when I'm lying on a street corner trying to climb back down and I have no more relationships to sever. No one can save me. This life has become who I am. Through a series of unfortunate events I've lost every piece of my plan. I've always been tempted to take the easy way out since I'm the obvious failure of the family without a doubt. Every where I go I feel like everyone knows my past. They see my scars and they become the only thing people remember, first and last. I remember the long nights of shakes and paranoia, the highs that were never enough. Searching and hiding limited happiness in closets and drawers until the withdrawal just became way too tough. Consistent lying to my friends and myself about my health and stability. I guess the love and acceptance made the abuse too hard to see.