arthurs-musings - Tumblr blog

[arthurs-musings]

I think sometimes I forget how much I wanted to be where I am now.

I mean, not so much all the hurt, all the pain. I never wanted that. But I remember so vividly wanting help and having no idea where to start, or how to open my mouth to ask for it.

No, this isn't the dream life I've always wanted. And yes, I missed out on all my teenage years because of being sick.

But I got help. I have support.

And a lot of the time I take that for granted.

Though I feel alone, stuck in a dark tunnel, the light so far away, I have to remember that I have a whole team of people holding the door open for me on the other side.

[arthurs-musings]

honestly I've stopped caring. I have to make peace with the fact things aren't going to change. the only thing that's going to change in my life is the setting. the same shit will keep happening.

I'm tired.

[arthurs-musings]

I'm so tired. Honestly, I don't have anything more to say. This is nothing new, nothing I wasn't expecting. I've given up every part of me to survive and now I'm nothing but a hologram of the person I once was. What I feel barely matters. I'm just a ghost. I didn't die, but somehow I've vacated my body. I feel everything so intensely, and yet feel nothing at all. I'm all anatomy and no soul. I'm not stupid, but I finally understand what it means to have the lights on with no one home. I don't think I've ever been home. And I don't think I ever will be. I've disappeared, my family no longer recognizes me. I've carried the bags under my eyes like weights, and I've pulled out clumps of my hair in the shower. I've become exhausted. I'm more numb and weary than I am human.

I don't think I'll ever get myself back.

[arthurs-musings]

all of my nostalgia, all my memories, are laced with horror. somehow illness has snuck it's way into my childhood, turning all of the sunshine sour. often I think about how unfair it is, but I try not to think like that, because as they say, life isn't fair. why should I expect it to be different for me?

[arthurs-musings]

I literally don't give a shit anymore. I'm so fucking tired and I hate this life. I don't like how it makes me feel and the good moments are just not worth all of the bad ones. they say it gets better, but I've been waiting for that since I was 14. why isn't it getting better? I'm so tired.

[arthurs-musings]

I'm so tired. I hate psychotic episodes and everything hurts. I wish things could just go back to how they used to be.

[arthurs-musings]

since the old version of this post was flagged for 'adult content'...

reblog this post if your account is a trans safe space or owned by a trans person!

along with that, reblog if your account is a trans non-binary spectrum safe space or owned by someone on the trans enby spectrum!

[arthurs-musings]

I love this girl, but she's in love with someone else. I know I'm only going to end up getting hurt in the end, but part of me feels like we would be so good together. I want to tell her but I don't want to ruin our friendship. I know it would be disastrous. my feelings have always felt too big for my body, and I want to tell her so bad, but I don't know when it is the right time. I don't want to make her confused or guilty if she rejects me. she'll never forgive herself. and I can't do that to her. though I know I would be so good to her. we would be amazing together. it's horrible when the person you love is in love with someone else.

[arthurs-musings]

why does suicide have to plague my every thought? And it's not even just my waking moments, it shows up in my dreams, my nightmares. I fantasize about it like it is a dream I've had since I was a child, and in reality, isn't it? I just never had the words for it when I was younger. I've come to realize that I've always wanted to die, I just didnt know it until I turned fourteen.

And it's been four years, and all that I can think about is how I'm still not better. How I've exhausted every psychiatrist and medication, every institution within driving distance, and my parents. I think the worst part is watching their hope fade, watching my mother cry over the fact that she won't have enough money to pay for my funeral like it is inevitable.

I try to make sure it isn't, because I want to believe that my heart is stronger than that, but that's not always true.

Sometimes even the strongest hearts crack and cave in.

[arthurs-musings]

you will be found

just thinking about the musical Dear Evan Hansen and the song you will be found. In my opinion its inspiring and sad at the same time. I mean, if you commit suicide, you're going to be found by someone. But if you're struggling you can also be found.

I just want to take a moment for those of us who weren't found in time.

[arthurs-musings]

I need to write a book about a young mlm main character who discovers the BDSM scene and call it Fifty Shades Of Gay.

[arthurs-musings]

breaking down

I think one of the scariest things about the psych ward is watching people break down. everyone is walking the line between death and destruction, and not one of them is better. you can try to ignore the other people dying inside but it's so loud and so abrasive. and there's nothing anyone can do about it.

[arthurs-musings]

drugs and alcohol

I'm slipping. I started using my prescriptions wrong and u know that this is going to go downhill and I don't know how to stop it. I don't want to be addicted.

But sometimes you just can't stop the slide, no matter how hard you try. Sometimes it's inevitable.

I wish it wasn't.

[arthurs-musings]

my mother and my father.

I just watched a slam poem with someone talking about her father, and the line "you show up to be seen" got to me.

because isn't that what deadbeat dads do? they don't show up for you because they care, they show up for the glory, for the praise of being the dad that they aren't, for people to cheer and exclaim that they've done all of the work our mothers have bleed for, cried for, lost themselves for, all just to make sure that we continue to live a better life than they ever had.

my mother may not be perfect. she is filled of anger and her figure is traced in fault lines, but I am angry too, and sometimes having faults doesn't mean that we are not worth loving, my mother is worth loving.

she made me feel like I was worth it, on the worst days when I curled in bed, she brushed back my hair and told me "I love you, baby." and it never saved me but it made me remember that I am worth fighting for, because if my mother, who is as blunt as the sun, can love me, then I can too. and if she reminds me that I deserve more than my father's absence, then I must.

[arthurs-musings]

sometimes I feel completely fine. in fact, I feel so fine that it's almost strange, like I don't need to sleep or eat or anything. I'm just awake and perfectly fine.

it concerns the people around me and I'm not sure how to fix it when I get so happy I feel as if I could burst.

[arthurs-musings]

TW: self harm

how is it that every time I see someone struggling it ignites the struggle in me? I literally just saw someone's self harm scars and immediately got triggered. it was this weird feeling of being jealous, of how deep they cut, of wanting that feeling that comes with cutting deep; the dizziness, the almost out of body euphoria.

I know it's not healthy, and I'm trying to stay clean, because at this point it really is an addiction. how do I stop suffering and wanting my own destruction more than I want to live?

how is it that I have all of these future plans and still want to die? it's like I'm making shit up trying to convince myself that there's something more to life that being hospitalized.

sometimes I get so discouraged, like I'll never be able to live a normal life. BPD has a chokehold on me, and I'm turning blue.

[arthurs-musings]

the monster inside of me

sometimes when I scream I feel like I'm releasing this demon, this awful thing that lives in my chest. that thing that aches whenever I breathe. how is it that I'm always hurting? how is it that the only time I truly feel like myself is when I'm going absolutely ballistic?

I was in a secure room last week, and every time I think of it, all I can think about is begging police, security and nurses not to take my clothes off as they ripped them from my body. all I can think of is how embarrassed, how ashamed I was. and how angry. how angry I was that they were taking away everything I could use to hurt myself with, taking away my only chance at peace, at death.

it makes me wonder if the mental health system really is okay. I hate being treated like a criminal clothed in stigma every time I walk through the hospital doors. I hate it, I just want to be treated like a normal human. but that's not possible is it?

I don't get to be treated like a person when I am walking the line of life and death, when I am failing to live.