The Pathetic Tales of a Depressed Bitch

i feel so touch and love deprived ahaha gotta love it. like all i fuckin want is a god damn hug and for someone to hold me while i sob, and maybe they can tell me shit will be okay ? is that too much to ask for ??? yep ? alrighty..

i wish i could stop giving a shit. honestly,, i think that’s part of my problem. i care about everything too much. every little thing means too much to me. the words said to me, the unsolicited opinions, my mistakes, my every move. why does it all have to mean so much to me? why do i push myself to the extremes to be perfect when i know i cannot be perfect, that no one can be perfect? why am i so fucking harsh on myself? why do i have this built in feature in my mind that picks apart every thing i do, every interaction i have until i become so fucking ashamed of myself. i care too much,, i care too much about everything. even if i “don’t care” there still that part of me that will always be guilty, guilty that i didn’t do this or that, guilty i said something wrong or stupid. in the end, it always feels like i’m ashamed of myself and honestly it’s extremely tiring. i can’t live my life. i can’t go out with friends,, hell i could barely even make friends, and even still i don’t have many. i can’t talk to my family. i can’t talk about my feelings. i can’t express my opinions without being extremely insecure and constantly doubting myself. i can’t make mistakes or else i’ll have a overwhelming urge to hurt myself. what is left for me to do?? lay in bed? go on the internet? cry? sleep? eat? i’m tired. i’m tired of the confinement that my anxiety has over me. i just want to be able to be myself and express who i am without the worry i’m doing something “wrong.” i’ve tried for so many fucking years to burry every little last piece of my own personality in fear that it was not good enough, but i’m so tired. i just want to be able to be myself without thinking about pleasing others. i don’t want to have the mindset that i’m living for others, that i’m only here because it would hurt others too much if i wasn’t anymore. i want to be able to live for myself. i want to redefine my worth, because i know i made a mistake the first time.

the fact i’m out with my friends on an adventure and all i can think about is hurting myself and killing myself is not very cash money of me so i need to stfu and enjoy my time with my friends without being a little depressed bitch,, like ik that’s my url but damn,, can i enjoy one thing for fucks sake

i keep seeing a bunch of videos of people making things with clay and it makes me kinda sad because i used to love pottery and making things with clay but it’s a hobby i lost to my depression because i just became so unmotivated and self-critical that i couldn’t allow myself to enjoy it anymore. i just hope one day i’ll be able to rekindle my joy i find in creating without being too harsh on myself..

i hate those little “get to know me” things with all those basic questions like,, sorry i lost my whole personality and life to my depression, the best i can give you is i like sleeping and going on my phone thank you and goodbye.

i hate realizing that i need help because asking for help is so scary to me. i hate having to try to explain myself to people when i don’t even understand myself. i know i need help because it’s getting bad again and i can tell. i literally sat on the floor for like 5 minutes with a blade in my hand before my shower yesterday because i wanted to hurt myself but i was too scared. i felt like a failure but also so good at the same time and it was so confusing. it’s so confusing wanting to get better but having my own mind keep trying to pull me down. i just keep having the same thoughts and i’m so tired. i’m so tired. i dont want to hurt myself anymore. i don’t want to think of how it feels and looks. i don’t want to think about how it “helps” because it doesn’t. i know it doesn’t. it’s only made it so much worse. my wrist is covered in ugly scars, i have to hide them, i always feel guilty, i got a fucking infection before, like it has only ever made things worse. yet i keep crawling back to it because my mind has somehow made me believe that i deserve to endure all of that. why is my brain like this? why do i think like this? why do i believe i have to be perfect if i know that perfection is not real? why does my depression and anxiety overrule my logic? how did my own mind make me want to die? i did this to myself. i let myself get like this. what other explanation is there? i can’t think of any others that make more sense.

it feels like my emotions are ripping my insides apart but my body is still completely intact wtf pls kill me

tell me why i almost have 30 drafts of things i wanted to post but never did because ✨a n x i e t y✨

love getting sudden bursts of anger towards myself which results in me wanting to hurt myself hahah

yes i may indulge in things that aren’t necessarily “healthy” for me,, but i’m not here for the long-ride bitch, i’m here to make this ride as crazy as possible.