Jul 8
some nights the only honest sentence is...i know exactly what this is, and i'm still on the floor
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some nights the only honest sentence is...i know exactly what this is, and i'm still on the floor
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My Therapist Might have been Right When she said I have (High Functioning) Depression
I'm rotting
My skin is rotting
My hair is rotting
My eyes are rotting
My mouth is rotting
My clean laundry is rotting
My bathroom counter is rotting
My shower is rotting
My floor is rotting
My clothing is rotting
The house is rotting
The food in the fridge is rotting
The string between my dad and I is rotting
I'm too rotted for the living room
I'm too rotted to show my face
He's rotting in his tank
Because I'm too rotted to get him more food
Because I'm too rotted to get him more water
Because I'm too rotted to give him light
He sits rotting in the dark all day
She isn't rotted
She crashes against the door
Jumps up on the bed
Shoves her face into my rotted hands
My rotted mind barely responds
A child
Fresh, energetic, full of love
Full of curiosity
The sun touched me every day
The thing I loved most in the world was animals
I still do
Where did my love go?
Where did the rot hide it?
Why can't I feel anything for my animals?
Did my love also rot away?
i donβt understand myself what is βnormalβ?
why doesnβt anyone ever reach out and ask me how im feeling
i just feel so empty whenever i comfort someone
Anya is live and ready to show you everything. Watch her strip, dance, and perform exclusive shows just for you. Interact in real-time and make your fantasies come true.
Free to watch β’ No registration required β’ HD streaming
i feel like nobody takes me seriously because of my personality. i've been told i'm high-functioning, that it's hard to be sad when i have such a smile on my face. i'm a kid and yet i'm often treated as an adult, so much so that my own therapist has to remind herself not to call me a child
I want to ask for help but for me everyone seems deaf.
I Want to ask for help, Iβm still depressed, I just learned how to function and exist with it.
It does feel invalid though
Has anyone else heard of high functioning PPD?
It's like, take everything you know about high functioning depression and postpartum depression, and then combine it all into a cocktail of feeling like a broken statue held together with Elmers glue and you have to look put together to everybody else including your child. It's extremely exhausting.