i’m done crying about it, i deserve better

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@fuckedupneurons
i’m done crying about it, i deserve better
Fuck me dead, I need some cocaine.
I really thought I could do this. I really, really did.
But ‘doing this’ shouldn’t mean drinking almost a whole bottle of wine every night while staring at a television but really just thinking about using your chef’s knife to cut open your inner arm from wrist to elbow.
Why are thoughts and emotions never simple? Why is everything that happens in my life always laced with a darkness, a negativity? Do I bring this on myself? I’m not asking for a pivotal moment of happiness. An epiphany where I realise what to do with my life. Or even contentment.
I just never thought I would live this long. It’s unsettling. Either let me have the courage to end it or the courage to break through and live with a level of happiness and contentment. Not this limbo that I call living. I hate it. I hate it, I hate it, I hate it. I find myself longing for pain. For a hand around my neck. How messed up is that?
[ID: excerpt from ‘The Condition,’ a poem by Marvin Bell
“The darkness within me is growing. I am turned out.
Thought feeds on it even as the body is eaten.”]
IM TIRED OF LYING
Hidden resentments poison a relationship; so if something bothers you, say it.
EXTRAMADNESS.COM (via onlinecounsellingcollege)
“If people refuse to look at you in a new light and they can only see you for what you were, only see you for the mistakes you’ve made, if they don’t realize that you are not your mistakes, then they have to go.”
— Steve Maraboli
“I would like to explode, flow, crumble into dust, and my disintegration would be my masterpiece.”
— Emil Cioran, On The Heights Of Despair