DeadlySilent.

This is who I happen to be, my mind is twisted and it's hard to see, but I'll take my changes and dance with fire, for I know nothing would happen to ever be minor.

[extremelylouddeadlysilent]

[yousaveeveryonebutwhosavesyou]

[odbymyself]

my biggest fear is that you’ll start to see me the way i see myself

[mishalnasir]

I repeat and revise “I am fine”, over and over in my head and it doesnt get better.

—annie

[agirlsenseless]

.

[extremelylouddeadlysilent]

In another world, in a different place, you get to escape and for a moment, forget all the bad.

[extremelylouddeadlysilent]

Most Days

Some days, it’s easy. I can get out of bed, get ready to face this ugly world and head out on my day. But some days, most days, it’s not so easy. Correction, it’s not easy at all. Dragging myself out of bed, weighed down with depressing thoughts. My brain tells me just to stay in bed. Stay away from the world. Though I get up and push through. Medicate myself with these drugs that the doctors say will help. But they do nothing. Yeah the feeling goes away. But when it comes back, it hurts worse than anything I’ve ever felt. No consentration. No hope. No desire to push on anymore. No desire to keep my wrists clear. Nothing. But that’s only most days, some days, I feel what is the closest to happiness I can get to.

[extremelylouddeadlysilent]

I Miss You, But I Wish You Were Never There.

I miss the good morning texts you would send when you left early for work, to make sure I made it to the bus. I miss how even though I was older, you still checked if I was asleep, before you went to bed. I miss the good night kisses on my forehead, when you thought I was sleeping. I miss the random texts throughout the day, to make sure I was having a good day. I miss your laugh at your dad jokes, even when they weren’t that funny. I miss the car ride jam sessions we would have. I miss the father-daughter movie marathons. I miss the hugs you gave me when I cried. I miss the strength and happiness you gave me. I miss your loudest cheering from the crowds at every game. I miss the look in your eyes when you were proud of my tiny accomplishments. I miss the sound of your voice. I miss the shouting at your video games. I miss tapping trees and making maple syrup. I miss going out to shoot some hoops. I miss the best friend who never gave up on me and said he’d always be there. I miss the father I had. Having fun and making memories was great and ill forever charish those moments. But sometimes. I wish it never happened. It’d be easier to never talk or see each other again. Because I wouldn’t know what I was missing out on. I wouldn’t feel empty and broken and betrayed. It would be a known feeling. The absence of my father. It wouldn’t ruin me. I’d be able to handle the overwhelming feeling. I wouldn’t question what I did wrong to you, for you to hate me, for you to choose liars over your own flesh and blood. The one you used to call your baby girl.

[extremelylouddeadlysilent]

Keeping to Herself.

She smiles, though her mind is tearing her apart. She says she's okay, when she really just wants to give up. She doesn't seem to have much fight in her anymore. It used to be different. She could fight off the pain, talk to someone, try and feel okay. But everything is different now. She feels like she just bothers everyone with her endless sorrow. She looks down at her scars. Feeling ashamed. Its been a while since the last time. But the thoughts come day by day. Memories of how it felt, how she released all her pain. Some days she can't stand remembering and keeps her arms covered. She feels lonely, tired, and afraid. She doesn't want to feel like this anymore, but what can she do. She refuses to talk about it with anybody. Instead, she spills it out on her blog. The one place she doesn't worry about what anyone thinks or has to say. She can be herself. She can be heard. And nobody knows. Nobody questions her. They think she's okay. They see her smile and laugh. But if they would just look into her eyes. They would see, the fear, the cry for help. They would see her.

[extremelylouddeadlysilent]

3 a.m

Some days, it feels as if I have finally fought it all off, the anxiety, depression, that drags me down everyday. I can get out of bed, do things I should do everyday, get things done and feel accomplished. I finally feel like I am okay, and everything is going to be okay. Then, it is 3 a.m and here I am, lying awake, in the dark, and the loneliness and paranoia kicks in. The fake smile fades. The made up laughs and happiness, is no longer needed anymore. It’s just me. Alone. My body is exhausted, though my brain will not let me fall into relaxation, to sleep. My arms burn, my stomach screams for some sort of food, my thoughts get the best of me, repeating all the bad negativity from my life, over and over. That is when I start to realize, once again, I have been beaten down. Lying there, I feel the urge to crawl into a ball and cry. Alone. A feeling I have come to learn all too well. I become angry at myself, for letting it get this far. For bottling up all my emotions, for not opening up, for putting on a mask to hide the pain and misery from the ones I love. I discipline myself with a blade, and lay there emotionless, arms burning, sobbing. Until I fall into a restless sleep, just to feel all the same things, when I awake.

[extremelylouddeadlysilent]

[bitchdontkillmyvibe123443-deact]

Rape happens for a reason. You probably dressed like a slut, had big boobs, and you probably totally deserve it.

[officialcarinamusic-deactivated]

TW: rape That is called victim blaming. People like you are ignorant and cruel! How could you say something like that? Imagine your daughter, sister, mother… Rape is NEVER the victims fault! May you open your eyes and see the truth. I’m so angry but I’ll refrain from bashing, because that’s not how I roll. But you, sir, make me weep for humanity.

[extremelylouddeadlysilent]

The most terrible poverty is loneliness, and the feeling of being unloved.

Mother Teresa

[extremelylouddeadlysilent]

When I Write

When I write. I let myself go free. I don’t worry about what people will say about what the words say, because I just want people to understand what they mean. How everyone has pain, and everyone has a different way of handling to pain. I felt alone for an extremely long time. I thought I was the only one to feel the way I do, day in and day out. Until I realized that I was not. That there are people everywhere that feel what I do.  Also, there are people who still feel alone, after knowing others have mental health issues as well. They still feel abnormal, as if something is truly wrong with them. In my writing, I want to let people know, they are not alone, and that others hurt the way they do. Nobody deserves to be alone. 

[best-of-memes]

[extremelylouddeadlysilent]

stay strong please

Thank you.

[extremelylouddeadlysilent]

Is It Him?

He tells you he loves you. He says you’re the one. You are his love and he would not ever hurt you. He is not the first person to tell you that, and yet here you are, recovering from a broken heart. He does not understand that you have lost hope for love. That you can’t trust anybody, and you’re not even sure that you can trust yourself. All of the men in the past have mistreated you and made you think there was no other real love anymore. He tells you that you’re beautiful, and that he could never find someone like you. Although, every girl you see, you’re afraid he’ll see the beauty she holds. Afraid that he will eventually become bored of you, and move on to a “hotter” and much more fun girl. Because now, you have fallen for him. You have fallen for the words he has said, the gestures he has made. He has made you feel special, as the ones before him had. Then, you remember. He is not the first to tell you these things, and you can’t decide if you can trust what he has said. You want to, because you truly love him and you don’t want to lose him. You just have to wait, and see what the future brings. Hoping, this is the last time you need to put yourself out there, that he is the one, the one who loves you unconditionally, and will until the day he dies. All you can wonder, is if, the one you’re supposed to be with, the one who loves you the way you should be loved, is it really going to be him?