I think my subconscious is trying to force my throat shut so I can’t keep downing these pills like fucking skittles. Haha, jokes on me, I’ve spent my entire life forcing bullshit out of my mouth, so forcing some more shit back down? It’s easy as 1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, 7, 8, 9, … Continue reading It’s never as bad as I think it is, until I realize every bottle in my cabinet is empty, and all I can do is wait and see if I’m going to wake up and find tomorrow, or never wake up again.
My heart remains silent, fearful of the shadows I’ve swallowed in my attempts to quell my hollow soul. With every beat, that darkness is pulled closer, and I’m left hoping this bottle of pills will be enough to keep the demons at bay, or else I’ll need to wash them all away in a rush … Continue reading I’ll chalk this latest mistake up to another bad decision made in poor lighting. I’m just happy it happened in Winter, so I have a ready-made excuse to always be wearing long sleeved shirts.
Time slips through my outstretched hand, and I try to grasp at its tail, but those lines are just wisps of smoke, and they roll over my fingers, kissing my knuckles, tickling the scars on my wrists, spiraling up and around my neck, filling my ears with the sound of my own beating heart as … Continue reading The only comfort I can give myself is the reassurance that a monster like me is better off alone
Depression sinks into your very soul, and you stop knowing how to love yourself; the thought just isn’t fucking there, and to even hear it, write it, be surrounded by the constant reminders of "Love yourself" does nothing when you feel as if you need that self love to EARN the love of others. People … Continue reading World Mental Health Awareness Day: What Depression feels like (for me).
It's not like I felt 100% secure in myself before, but I didn’t feel exposed all the time. I cared about how I looked, but only to what I considered a normal degree. I spent time each morning doing my hair, making sure it looked nice, and that was that; I didn’t waste anymore time … Continue reading I hate feeling alone… and I hate feeling scared, used and abused… but what I hate most of all is this inescapable sense of being open game. I hate feeling so vulnerable.
I can’t resist the urge to break. It’s almost like a need, a physical itch that demands I scratch it with a freshly sharpened pocket knife. I hate this feeling. I am filled up with things and stuff instead of love and warmth, and it hurts. I want to cry. Every day I want to … Continue reading “I’m failing. Everything that I am; body, mind, spirit, and all the other shit in between, I am a failure.”
Someday you’ll come to understand how I feel. You’ll wake up, and before you even get the chance to roll out of bed, an intense self-loathing will be simmering right beneath your skin. You won’t be able to make sense of it, and with every passing second the pressure of being alive will grind your … Continue reading “Raking away at already red wrists, as if self inflicted scars are the latest fashion trend, I’m racing towards another round of awkward conversations about an imaginary cat, a pair of clumsy feet, and a person who stopped caring a long time ago.”