flowers on a headstone

16f. dv & cocsa survivor cptsd bipolar ocd arfid. failed od attempt nov 2025

[girlbornrotten]

[girlbornrotten]

ok calm down damn it’s not that serious be normal

[girlbornrotten]

i want to get on a bus and find a nice quiet place to die. somewhere green and humid and rainy with the sun setting in front of me. i want to find a field to lie in as my breathing slows and eyes go dark. the blades of grass rustling against me from the soft breeze tearing through the flora, no one around but myself and the bees. maybe i’d be found a week later, all by myself, my last useful deed being becoming a feast for the scavengers. it would be sad for a month, but then i’d be forgotten

[girlbornrotten]

i can walk out the door and disappear forever

[girlbornrotten]

i wanna peel my skin off and start over

[girlbornrotten]

i’m always trying to avoid making mistakes and to be a good person. i say that i admit fault try my very very best to but what happens in situations where i insist on my feelings? am i a bad person? am i selfish? is my perception of “i wouldn’t treat this like a debate if our roles were reversed, i would be devastated” really a valid point of view?

because of people who gave me no credence, i feel like i can’t move forward or talk about being kind or admitting fault. i want to be perfect. i want to do everything right. everything i did was carefully planned to avoid mistakes and inconveniences upon others, but it failed and i don’t know what i was supposed to do.

i was fifteen and terrified and trapped and that wasn’t an excuse for being angry with everyone else about my groomer telling lies about me and manipulating both me and our friends and it wasn’t an excuse for blowing up and being disrespectful and impulsively, harmfully argumentative; but what should i have done

normally i would chock it up to “well, what should they have done?” but they sensationalized the prospect of a fun exciting drama instead of telling them to slow down and wait until i could explain myself or at the very least not lie about me for a more compelling narrative.

i said i needed to step away from our group due to emotional turmoil and conflict resolution. they said i stated that i was going to be ignoring everyone. they acted innocent, “we were just comforting our friend”, when they were twisting stories and refusing to ask for context, clarification, or any context from the OTHER friend

if my anger over this seems unreasonable to them, fuck you. if me speaking about the night i tried to kill myself is “beating a dead horse”, fuck you. you were the ones who left me for dead without a word or a glance. you would’ve let me die had the friend not participating in story swapping break down to you guys while trying to reach my mom

you let me die. you would’ve let me die. you would’ve let my body go cold and my heart stop beating because i wasn’t worth it. had my prescription been full, had i planned it ahead of time, i would have died or been in critical condition.

you were inconvenienced by me living because now you had to deal with another annoyance. i loved you all so much i would cry happy tears at the warmth you guys made me feel, but it was nothing more than superficial mob mentality that cares for nothing but gossip, lies and cruel jokes. fuck off, and double fuck off about how one of you was actually “just about to apologize:(“ when i blocked them like some hysterical dramatic bitch. that apology was owed months before.

i hate you for thinking like this and i hate you for caring more about your own moral posturing and herd mentality than about my life or wellbeing or safety or joy. i would’ve died in the silent dark of my room. it would be very funny then, to not have to worry about a pest preventing you from “coping” with your cruel jokes

[girlbornrotten]

this was genuinely the way in which my friend group acted after learning i was on suicide risk. they didn’t message me or show any concern about turning on me without evidence+abandoning me when i needed them but they did comfort my groomer like “this was bound to happen… it’s not your fault..” ??? girl i’m not fucking dead yet

[girlbornrotten]

in a few hours you’ll be laughing like an insult

[girlbornrotten]

make yourself cold to keep yourself warm

[girlbornrotten]

revenge revenge revenge i crave it like a fire

[girlbornrotten]

today a song i shared with someone i had trusted and cared about immensely came up on my vent playlist shuffle. i frantically opened their spotify to check their playlists for that song, a thread of hope at remembrance, and i broke down immediately. do they think of me when they hear it? do they listen, or skip it? do they remember me in it like i remember them in songs, books, characters, and everything else? out of everyone, i thought they’d be here; but they chose the sanctity of a herd’s echo chamber over my hysterical heartache. i don’t want to admit it’s goodbye, i can’t accept the notion that it’s over. if i do, my worthlessness will brand me forever; the wrack and ruin will kill me

i refuse to stalk their profiles, beyond brief opening of playlists to see if a thread still survived. i refuse to act like someone apart of their current life. but still, the few active platforms they still unknowingly follow me on will stay. i will hold out false hope that they miss me too, that they want to recognize me and my hurt, that they too hope for reconnection through subtle gestures. it’s delusional, of course, but it’s easier than accepting they no longer care for me. i cannot let go of this hope for a friend to laugh with me again, it will break me.

i miss the jokes and care and conversations and kindness. i miss it so so so bad, but i cannot disrespect myself anymore by allowing people to excuse actions and pain. but forever, i think, i will wish for a reunion and apology. recognition that my hurt is not accusation, but a desperate attempt to be loved enough that all my pain is worth twisting your gut for. it may never come, but maybe the hope that at least one of the people that left me behind will run to me with open arms and carry me away will allow me to stay afloat until i soon disappear entirely

[girlbornrotten]

jarvis how much doxy until i’m dead

[girlbornrotten]

yeah i’m coping well (sexualizing herself because it’s the only way anyone has ever looked at her or wanted her)

[girlbornrotten]

you know it’s bad when you google overdose amounts and fatality rates for every bottle of pills you see

[girlbornrotten]

my life feels like a transitional period. like i’m always in between stops, or rather that i exist in the empty spaces between train boarding times.

[poisonintheink]

— ʀ.ᴛ.

[girlbornrotten]

on some level, i think i always understood—that a ship could never really love an anchor

so i did the only thing that i could, and severed the rope to set you sailing from my harbor.