the forth of july isnt the same anymore. The pops just remind me of what i cant forget. It reminds me of the fucked up shit my dad told me without restraint, that he almost killed himself. It takes me back to those moments underneath the locker room sink, holding my friends close and wondering if id see my family again. I was fucking 14. Wheres the support group for people like me? How do I move on? How selfish is it to only be traumatized by suggestion? People have been through so much fucking worse. One of my classmates actually saw his dad kill himself and here i am feeling miserable that my dad told me what it felt like to stare down the barrel of a gun. People have DIED from bullets and im scared because i just thought i was going to be one of them.