why is it so hard for me to cut anymore ?everytime i try, i cant ever bring myself to do it.i hold the blade against my skin but it doesnt move.i used to get such a rush out of it.it used to take the pain away.i dont know what changed or why.but i cant, and i wish i could.
I can't help but wonder why I can remain only looking at your face and feeling only your body, for the rest of my life, never even being attracted to another man. But why you can't go a few seconds without having thoughts about other women. You think I don't hear you talk about her. You think I don't see what you're looking at while you sit right next to me. But I do, and i know it's silly but it hurts.
i'm incredibly sick of my grandfather and my mother getting all the sympathy for my grandmother's death. I've gotten a handful of hugs and sorry's for my loss from people, and have otherwise been completely ignored. I lost someone too. I lost a woman who comforted and inspired me in ways my own mother couldn't. I lost a person who loved me and took pride in me unconditionally. I lost a close relative and a true friend. My life was the way it was partly because of her, hell my existence was largely because of her, and now it will never be the same without her. I do not mean to sound entitled or selfish, I am aware and do not feel that this is a contest of who is suffering more deeply, and it's never been about getting attention, but I am alone in my particular form of grief and that loneliness has been intensified by people's lack of simple consideration. It bothers me to no end that my mom has been showered in gifts and keepsake memoirs and kind messages (has anyone ever thought that maybe I'd like a wax-dipped rose or a framed photograph too? Or perhaps a phone call to check in?) and my granddad gets all the praise for sharing articles and songs on Facebook that I posted and mentioned first. Writing and talking about ideas is a way for me to express myself, it is my outlet to release emotions, and I feel that that's being taken from me because he has to swoop in and steal my thoughts. Yes, I didn't know my grandmother as long as either of them and didn't get to spend as much time with her as they did, but that's merely a consequence of my age, my relationship to her and my living arrangement, none of which were ever in my control. She was still immensely important to me, as I was to her. People need to stop acting like my grandfather and mother were the only ones who loved her, the only ones who were loved by her, the only ones who were by her side when she took her last rattling breath. I'm just as hurt and scarred by this, maybe even more so because I am much younger and previously unaffected by this kind of event in life, and therefore unable to process it as easily.I suppose it doesn't matter, everyone is going to eventually stop actively caring about how we're all dealing, anyway.
crimson24 posted a quote
April 30, 2017 11:24pm UTC
circus of lunaticsplayin spin the bottle with death and demiserussian roulette but with a fully loaded barrel thinking there was a chance to wingames that only the freaks of the circus playpracticing on the tight ropewhat some call a normal lifebut falling and shattering the masknothing to hide behindbroken and afraidthere was a razor used to cut the tightropebecause no life is normalwe are a circus of lunaticssome entertaining pillsothers alcoholwe all jump through the rings of firefollowing the colourful banners becausethat is the only thing thatisnt black and whitesome dont mind getting burned in the ringthe burn could let us step out of the acteven if just for a minuteit was heavenjust a chance to catch our breathstep out of the rules and regulationsaway from the whips and cattle prodsthey treat us like animalsbut we dont see anything wrongbecause that is how we grew upfollowing their agendadoing their trickswe are the circus of lunatics
"I was once a blazing inferno, I felt everything, I was full of life. But I let my sparks fly and heat those I love, and as the cliche stands: they got burnt. The realization that my hands could hurt someone that badly made me detatch, quench my fire, becoming cold and heartless. Of course in every story about becoming a coldhearted Statue they soon follow with that special someone who melted them into a caring puppy. But I'm not Mr. Darcy or any of those people, I'm much too arogant and scared to let love break my stone layers. So I stop feeling things that cause me to do things, no desire, no attachment, no strings for you to play in my heart. Instead an Anylitical mind is much more effective at preventing hurt." ---------------------------------------------------------------- I've thought this way for so long it's now second nature to anylize my relationships and treat people like priorities in a Chess game. Move this person here, let that one go. Completely ignoring the humanity behind these people. I will change, I will change Please make sure to tell me when I'm hardening up again. Please combat my anylitical attacks with sincear love that I currently don't have. And above all please don't become like me. Your fire is too caring, too full of feeling, and too sincear to let go. The world wouldn't be the same without your crackling love.
Miluiel* posted a quote
August 12, 2016 10:26pm UTC
1:03am every facet of my head hurts--my mind, my jaw, my ears, my eyes are on fire. my stomach is churning. i'm hunched over, sitting on a chair in my kitchen, staring at the medicine cabinet. i just want it to stop. 1:47am i am holding a bottle of pills. my hand is shaking, causing the capsules to rattle. my face is contorted, my eyebrows are permanently furrowed. the fan above me creates a buzzing noise that blocks out any voice of reason i could be hearing. 2:28am the bottle is on the floor, the cap is broken off. all the pills are gone. my shaking has gotten worse. i've started sweating, and drops of it sting my eyes. they blur my vision. i don't care. i feel like i'm going to lose everything i've eaten today. i pound my fist on my thigh, and the bruises that are already there scream. i grit my teeth. 3:52am my jaw aches worse than ever. my abdomen is sore. i'm gasping curses on myself. i've thrown up four times. i might pass out if i do it again. there was a time i would've died rather than vomit. i wish i was dead. wasn't that the whole point? 5:00am i am asleep on the bathroom floor. my toothbrush is laying on the side of the sink, next to an open tube of toothpaste. my dreams are black. 5:57am i cough myself awake. my skin looks dead. my toes are numb. my throat is raw. i take a shallow breath and stand up. my legs are wobbly. my body aches from sleeping on the hard tile. i force myself to take a shower. i try not to look at myself in the mirror. 6:30am my back is against my matress. judy garland is playing from my ipod. her voice soothes me. i unclench my fists. i will be okay. i will be okay. i will be okay.