The Bright Sessions
Game of Thrones Daily
PUT YOUR BEARD IN MY MOUTH
titsay
Fieri Frames
The Bowery Presents
🩵 avery cochrane 🩵
Aqua Utopia｜海の底で記憶を紡ぐ
Color Me Curious
Sade Olutola
roma★
h
untitled
noise dept.
Product Placement
Not today Justin
if i look back, i am lost
hello vonnie
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@centipedes-and-self-reflection
I started taking Cymbalta today. I decided I should probably stop being okay with constantly wanting to die, I try to help myself, and instead I'm nauseous and can't stop shitting everything I eat or drink. Maybe in a couple weeks I won't be suicidal AND I'll be skinny. What a goal.
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I changed my life in every way I possibly could, I've changed every part except the parts I can't. Am I just living out of obligation and cowardice? Will I wake up one day and this was all be in the before, and I'll finally get to live in the after? I think I'm doomed to repeat. For the love of God, I wish I had ended it all before it all got so fucking complicated. I had the right idea back then. Some days I'm so far gone, I don't even know how to turn around. I want someone to help me, but nobody deserves to have the weight of loving me put onto them. I'm not only unlovable, but I pity anyone who finds something in me they deem worth loving. What a terrible ending for us all.
The world is so much bigger than my mind. Please, God, it has to be.
The End
Maybe it's the ending. Maybe it's a new beginning.
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I can remember enough for both of us.
I socialized for 3 straight days and it doesn't feel like it took a toll on my soul. It feels like I'll miss the people I spent my time around.
Smoke Screen
I fear that there is not nearly as much meaning in death as people (including myself) would like to believe.
Screaming
I want to scream, but I am afraid I have forgotten how to.
Fresh Starts
Moving around and constant change have been my normal since I can remember. When I was a kid, my mom used to always tell me it was a fresh start. I could begin again completely new. But it's never fresh because I may have been new to the area, to the school, to the people, but I was still me. That never changed. I don't want fresh starts anymore. I want to stay in a place for more than a hand full of time. I want to begin and continue and not have to restart anymore. I want to collect, I want to persevere.
I remember
I remember my mom telling me that slugs melt if you put salt on them. We were camping and she handed me salt to put on a slug I found. I stared at it for awhile, salt in one hand. Eventually, I realized I didn't want to watch something die a presumably horrible death for my own amusement. I imagined dying, burned by salt poured onto my helpless body from the hands of a giant, bulging eyes and a shitty grin being the last thing I see.
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Oh yeah, I'm mentally ill still!
About an hour ago, I had my first panic attack in YEARS. I could feel the anxiety building since yesterday and it was just this sensation I couldn't shake. I should have seen it coming. I think my current thoughts are just... residual. Something I don't think is spoken about enough is the lasting symptoms after the height of the initial panic attack. For hours after, sometimes a day or so, I still feel this lingering level of anxiety that I have to breathe out. It's like a relapse period that's always ready to implode if I'm too forgetful and loosen my grip.
Although I'd never tell anyone this, I feel incredibly weak for it. I thought I was at the point where I had a great handle on my anxiety and panic attacks. I keep replaying the last several days and trying to find the moment that started it, searching for a trigger or emotional pipeline. I can't think of anything and it's incredibly upsetting to me. I do not want to start having these randomly again. It was so embarrassing being at work with patients and trying to breathe. At one point I thought I should ask to go home, but I didn't want to be home and I didn't want to have to explain to my new coworkers that I can't handle my own emotions and brain. I thought I could shift my emotions to work mode easily enough, but every spare moment I had to myself was just me coping.
I think maybe it was my coworker that triggered it. She kept saying how upset she was but she was bitching about her boyfriend, then putting her work onto me. Consistently ignoring me when call lights and patients were going off. Sometimes I feel so selfish for wanting to scream at people, "Don't you fucking see I'm trying? Don't you say I'm really struggling right now but I am pushing through and surviving?" But, of course, I don't say that and nobody knows those things because I never tell them.
How have you faced your shadows today? How are they appearing in the people and world around you?
Do I find solace in my suffering?
"Mary, take me to the window. I wish to say goodbye."
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Questions for an absent father.
I want a hug. I miss you, dad. I can't tell you that, but I do. I think of you every day. I wonder if you think of me every day. Do you have memories of me that are happy, or did you try to erase me from your life when we stopped talking?
I think about how you don't know who I am as a person anymore. When I got my license, my first thought was that you wouldn't know. When I got a scholarship to a college and graduated with a 4.0, I wondered if you would have been proud of me. When I went to college, when I moved out of my mom's house, when I got my first boyfriend, when I bought my first car, when I turned 16, 18 and then 21, when my big sister got married and I became an aunt... I was always thinking, "Is dad thinking about me as much as I think about him? Does he care?"
I've never been proud of myself because you have never been proud of me. You've never been proud of me because you've never seen anything to be proud of, and you've never seen me enough to see anything at all. You don't even know me anymore. Do you hate me? Or do you just lack love? When my birthday comes, do you think of me? Do you even remember my birthday or is it just a passing calendar date you don't recognize as an outlier? Do you even care?
I was talking to a friend about you yesterday. He asked me what I miss the most about you. I said your hugs. Despite everything, you gave great hugs. I remember the last time you gave me an "I love you" hug, and you didn't even have to say the words to me. I just knew because I could feel it. When I was 10, you asked me to kiss you on the cheek and it felt weird to do. I didn't want to. You got sad. Was that the moment you looked at me as someone that grew up that you couldn't lie to anymore, or did it start before that?
I still see you in the world. Sometimes, Dad, I am walking around a store and I can smell your cologne. I wonder if it's you for a second. For that one second, I feel terror, longing and betrayal all at once. I wish I could smell your cologne again. I wonder if you see me around you the way I still see you.
I find myself looking at your Facebook sometimes. It's public, so I can see everything you post. You said you missed your kid(singular), but you were only referring to 1 out of four of your kids. Sometimes I wonder if the one out of four will still talk to you when he is an adult, or if you will screw him up the same way you screwed three out of four of us up. Do you cheat in front of one out of four the same way you did in front of me? Does one out of four have to experience what I did? Would you post that on your Facebook? Do you love me still? Did you ever love me? Was it real love, or was it just convenient for you to love me? Did playing the role of a good dad every few years get you the attention you desperately want? Do you still lie and tell people that I am dead because it is easier to explain than you being a deadbeat?
Dad, sometimes I wish you were dead. Sometimes I think it'd be easier to know I couldn't feel your love anymore because you couldn't give it to me rather than know that you choose every day to not love me, talk to me, or to know me. Maybe that's why you said I was dead even way back when I was a kid. Maybe you missed me so much that you didn't know what to say so you just said I died. I miss my dad. I miss your hugs. I miss you.
Can I be your cat?
