i've been going through a really crazy, too-busy-to-think few weeks, maybe even months
and now that i am through the bulk of it, now that i have time to stop and actually think about something other than how the hell i'm going to get through it without completely collapsing
it all
just
comes
right
back
Zu müde, um auf Nachrichten zu antworten.
Zu müde, um zu erklären was los ist.
Zu müde.
"just wait it'll stop when you move out" i literally cannot take it anymore
Holding back tears
Biting the inside of my cheek
Quivering lips
Like a moth to a flame
Like an addict to drugs
I'm drawn to the sharp edges
I'm aware of the regrets
Yet I'm here again
Repeating the same mistake
Reopening old wounds
And crying myself to sleep
I had a mini 3 day vacation and it’s made me wanting more :((
Also just found that there’s something called post vacation depression 😳
there's what now?? and ohh, i know the feeling! i hope you get more vacations soon <33
A world with no fear Wasting away ‘neath the sun Move on without you
why is it that I try so hard to keep the people I care about in my life when everyone is keeping me at their sidelines
not adventuring not feeling not anything
not enjoying things together not understanding not anything
called my doctor and i'm back on my meds and got an increase of my antidepressants
i know this is gonna end bad and it will mess up my mind even more
just tell me u want him and don’t need me so i can finally end me
I don't think I will ever change, and at this point, I am not even sure if I can.
god, I'm so sorry, but I really need help, and I don't know what to do, I'm going to commit suicide soon, I can't live with this, it hurts so much, I've been taking pills for 3 years, but they don't help, please help me, I need advice on what to do
Hello, I'm sorry but I must tell you for the future, this isn't an appropriate ask to send to someone. It puts a lot of responsibility on an untrained stranger's head when really the only one who can save you... is you.
I will tell you though, as someone who has attempted before: It gets better. I know that's all anyone says, but take it from someone who is like you, chronically ill and also suicidal.Three years ago I was trapped in an abusive home, in so much pain I didn't want to go on, and in such poor mental health I barely left my bed even in spite of the pain.
Three years. Now, I have my own apartment, I have a lovely partner I live with, I'm in the best mental health I've been in my whole life, and my pain is tolerable, manageable even. I can walk myself with my cane to the store and back with no problem. I have doctors who work with me well and actually help me.
It takes work, it takes time, and it takes a lot of pain. But it does get better. I'm proof.
So anon, give it another day. Another week. Another month. A gentle step forward. A gentle breath, then the next.
You are going to get a happy ending. Because it turns out, even with all my pain and suffering to get here? I deserved one too. And even when things are so bad you can't for the life of you see the way out - well, the future comes anyway, and the past always becomes the past, and you feel yourself breathe again. Without even meaning to, sometimes. A breath in, a breath out. Still alive. Still moving forward, day by day by day.
It never becomes perfect; perfection is an unrealistic expectation of any human. But peace is attainable. Manageable pain and soft, happy days in the sun and a bed you actually enjoy being in. It’s there, right on the horizon. Only three years away. What a revolutionary concept to that person chained to his bed, suffering each and every day, hm? He never would have believed it. It is my deep, deep privilege to know that that person is a part of me. He survived, and kept breathing and now he gets to be happy. He is me. It was always me. It was always someone worthy of this future.
I think the same thing can be true for even you, Anon. I think if you just give it one more day, one more hour... You shouldn’t make big decisions when you’re in this much pain. Thoughts like that are much too big when your view is so narrow. So give it some time. Give it three years, then come back to me. I believe you will make it.
Run through this when You Feel Like Shit. If that doesn’t work, then consider the big decisions, but only after.
My prayers are with you. I believe in you.
Today, I read a story on my favourite couple, an angst one. The male lead had to leave in the middle of a burning love to go back home and marry someone else, not his lover, the female lead. Years later, they reunited with a child born from the male lead and the divorced/ passed away wife. A bittersweet happy ending, right? A family of three, made from shattered glassed, glued back with bonds from golden love.
But as I envisaged that plot on myself and that person, I immediately suffocated.
I felt withering the moment I think of that person, saying he loves me just to take another hand and vows his life to her. Not me. Knowing he loves me, but forced to bind his marriage with someone else. That mere thought can twist my heart out of my chest, then drain all my blood and love to the ground.
I felt unalive the very next breath.
But I can at least go by, numbingly. I can still live on, knowing that the foolish hope and love ended. Knowing that there would be someone waiting, loving, taking care of him, so I would be able to lock my heart away, content with a life ahead, without thinking back.
But what if, he came back to me, with a child tucked by his side, asking for my hands in marriage, once again to fulfill the broken promise?
I would be happy for just a moment. Just to turn him down and run away. Because, the wounds are now opened and bleed, and it hurts.
I can not withstand seeing the child of that marriage. The result of love or not, that proof kills me. I can not live the pain of thinking that he, once whispering me my love, yet committed that very same act to someone else. Deeming me possessive, I admit. But I am a courage. The split second I see the traits of him and her on that child, all the thought rushing through my head was the same voice of "It could have been mine."
"Why not me?"
I hold no contempt to the child, nor him, nor her. Just resenting my heart, my mind and myself, because I am no saint. I am just a merely human, shivering at the sight of promise broken, time drifted, vows lost, and love drained.
I would love to hug that child, or him. But I lack the power to stay by their sides the years to come. Because I merely am a human, with wounded heart and damaged soul. I dare not to think that I have the strength, or the mentality to rekindle with both of them, to make a new family. Because I lack the experience to have a loving family of my own. And I lack the capability of birthing a child.
If he and I adopt a child of no blood relation, it pose no hurt. Yet, a child, of him and her, in a rightful marriage, could kill me right away.
Because I was not his bride. I could not be his wife. Or that child's mother.
I feel like I was the outsider, looking at a happy story of someone else, even though he promised me his love and marriage already.
I feel so shameful, feeling like a home-wrecker.
So, if I were the female lead, the story would never be published.
No one wants to see the female lead, hugging the male lead and the child, saying that she would like to love them, cherish them and support them all her life. But she could not, because she was already dead the day he vowed his hands in marriage to someone else.
And then, she would leave, quietly and quickly.
The end? She would be at the sea cliff where he showed her once before, in the days they were rightful lovers.
"I am taking back my love."
Drown herself into the ocean and never come up for air.
Ever feel like people only notice you when you fail at something?
TW: Dark themes such as death, suicidal ideation, and depersonalization. Please do not read if sensitive to these themes.
I’m a glitch in the system of reality
A weed in the cracks begging for life and love
Hating the seasons of change fearing the future and spoiling the present
Guilt weighs my limbs, noose on my neck
I can’t take in the air I don’t breath
I lie and fight my own dreams
My fists beat down my hopes and pleas
The flame of hope burns my soul
Tearing me in two a shell shocked ghoul
I wish for truth I wish for gentle lies
I wish for a good life I wish to die
I’m a stranger in my own bones
The thing in the mirror is different from what I remember
I don’t feel what I see
Who am I
The only reason my "friends" talk with me is because they feel bad. I don't have evidence but I feel it. After all, I have nothing to offer... I'm pathetic, my parents are overprotective and overwhelming, I can't go out with them, I can't give them anything... I'm weird, and I never have good gossip, and I'm never able to go to parties, and I'm so ugly I'm wondering why they haven't thrown up from looking at my face already.
Plus I'm always the one who starts the conversations, I'm always the needy one... And it hurts la shit, because I love them, they're my friends and I am literally nothing without them... I think it's more of a "I'm staying with them because no one else would stay with me, and they are staying with me because they know that" type situation...
I want to kill myself.
I am so pathetic, I'm feeling so fucking pathetic.
