I am expected to be everything that I’m not. I’m my parent’s not-so-perfect angel. People can tell me that I’ve lost faith, but the truth? My faith, is stronger than ever. I pray that someday, I will have the strength to overcome SI. To fix what I have messed up. I’m still a Catholic. I still believe in God. I am just struggling with something, that is consuming me entirely. Something that is causing me pain. How is it, that when I need someone the most, to support me in my time of need, they arn’t there. People can’t comprehend my reason. But it seems obvious enough, doesn’t it? My pain, and my hurt, are expressed in a way that is wrong. My injuries expresses my emotions, hidden by clothes. Permanent, painful reminders. Of all that I have failed to be. SOmeone, tell me why it has to be this way? Why can’t I stop? I’m crying out for help, please. But no one hears my cries.