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10.02.2019

Sometimes I wonder whether Mum and I are suffering under the same disease, whether we are both too proud and stubborn to show or admit it... Wouldn't it be funny if we were so interlocked, yet so far apart? Like two ships in a whirlpool, the rope tethering us together is the only thing keeping us from falling in, even though we hate the rope with half our being.

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05.03.2017

am I dead? i am dead shoot myself in the head

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09.10.2016

enter my mind and

you will find

a hurricane of words, and

phrases, and dark imaginings,

and crazy unsurpassed ideas,

all swirling around

infinitely

in the abyss of my mind

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18.04.2017

You never know how bad you've gotten until it's passed. Only in retrospect does the pain and the descent truly present itself. It scares me, sometimes. That maybe I've been on a breaking road from the start. That I'm getting worse and I don't even know it. But it scares me, too, that maybe I'm just being overdramatic. Maybe all this is normal; maybe I'm just weak. Foolish. Seeking attention.

Either way, I always feel so bad for everyone who's had to go through their teenage years. The world is so cruel I have trouble comprehending how everyone's survived, how people haven't become bitter and cynical. I hate life and I haven't even experienced true pain yet. I hope against hope that as adults, people do find something worth living for.

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03.07.2017

It kills me that I am dying and nobody sees

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16.05.2017

My feet are firmly plastered to the ground when the tide rushes in again. It rises up and up, until the water's so high, so wild and chaotic that I struggle to breathe, chained to the ground. When the sun rises, the water recedes. Sometimes it goes away completely. In these times, if the ground is dry for long enough, plants can grow and flowers bloom at my feet. Other times the water lowers, but does not leave. I stand in a body of ice water, up to my knees, my stomach, my chest; a constant reminder of the waves that drown and suffocate. Sometimes this is flood stays for days, weeks, months. In this time, flowers cannot bloom and plants cannot grow. Though the water is still, there is the constant reminder of what is to come, after the sun sets and the dark water rises to engulf me once more.

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08.04.2017

I had felt this way for years, but it had been years since I'd felt this way.

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02.08.2017

How do people just live their lives without ever wanting to die? How do they not wish for death on a daily basis? How could any amount of positivity be worth the brutal, harsh thing that is life? I don't understand, how can people look at their lives and NOT WANT TO DIE. HOW. I could think about every "trivial" thing in my goddamn existence and there I am, caught up in the INSATIABLE DESIRE TO END IT ALL. Just how, HOW CAN PEOPLE STAND THIS?! HOW CAN THEY LIKE EXISTING? HOW??

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15.09.2017

The problem with having death as a constant safety net is that you trick yourself into doing it.

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10.09.2017

Some days, I am just pain. And I cannot stop screaming

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15.08.2017

I actually hate my mother like literally. Hate. Her. To the depths of my heart. She pisses me off so goddamn much like what even. And I hate this generation gap that's between us and I hate all the fights we have because of it. I hate how I hate her and I hate how she doesn't understand and I hate myself for letting it get this far. So much hatred.

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15.01.2017

How much of you is defined by your DNA? How much is it defined by experiences?

It’s weird when you sink into depression. 

When it's sudden, you only notice it at the start. You suddenly feel really sad, worse than you felt before (or ever felt before) and don’t think too much of it. You plough through the days like you always have, and don't notice it again until the episode is over and you're looking back. 

When it's gradual, you don’t notice it at all until you're so deep it hurts to breathe. You go to bed and grit your teeth and wonder how long you've been sinking, how long it’s gone on without you noticing. You keep trudging along, dealing with the pain, until the episode is over and you can breathe again.

You can't think properly during depression. Your mind is broken. Your logic is penetrated by despair and your ethics are infiltrated by crippling doubt and confusion. Except, you never notice it while it's going on. During an episode your brain is so unbalanced, but it goes on anyway, and while it works through the fog-shrouded swamp, you think everything's just the same as it's ever been. Your head only clears when the episode is over. And then you look back, and only then, only then do you realise what a mess you'd been.

And this is the irony of it all. You need your brain to know that something's wrong. Your brain is what tells you what to do. Except, your brain is the thing that needs healing. You cannot take action because the organ that allows you to take action is the one that's broken. 

This is the reality of depression.

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28.07.2017

Help me. There is never a day in which I do not wish that I did not exist. I still don't understand how some people feel that life's pain is worth the good bits. There are no "good bits" that will ever measure up to the torment of life.

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07.10.2017

I have given up.

And I will keep giving up.

Time and time and time again.

I am not enough.

I was not enough.

Again, and again, and again, and again.

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13.08.2017

My brain still pounds to the beating of my heart – if I lay really still I can almost swear that my entire body beats with it.