Dear Mom,
There are so many things I wish I could actually tell you, and not just vent about in a Witty Profiles quote. Like remember the time last summer when you were taking me to get a new bathing suit, and I almost broke down crying in the middle of the Khol's because I didn't want you to see my hideous, burned and cut up legs? I want you to know that I lied about my old one fitting me still.

I want you to know the real reason that I'm failing all my tests in school. No, it's not that I "don't understand anything" or "don't care". It's because I'm depressed, and I'm TRYING, but it's difficult to study when all I want to do is sit in my room and cry.

I want you to know that when you makes jokes about the teenagers on the news that try to kill themselves, saying "Oh, it's silly for such young people to think they have such big problems", that I, your DAUGHTHER, tried to kill myself. Three times.

I want you to know that I loved it when you and Daddy used to sing in the car. You would harmonize, and sound beautiful together. I want you to know that every night, I listen to the song "Waiting For a Superman" by the Flaming Lips, sobbing my eyes out because I remember how happy I was when you and Daddy would sing it, and how you didn't hate each other, and how Dad was sober. And happy. We were all happy.

There are so many things I want you to know. But I know exactly how you'd react.
You'd be mad.
You'd be upset.
You'd be frustrated.
But most of all,
you'd be even more disappointed
in what a failure I am.
How your only daughter turned out like
THIS.