trauma blog i guess

•rape vent • it's not okay, it was never okay will i ever be okay 🎀

[h3lp4m3]

i wasn't always crazy , 'till I met this bitch named "caroline"

a lot of you might actually know her her real name is depression :)

[h3lp4m3]

I want to throw up why would you say that to me you know you have full control over my emotions I love you so much I need to throw up I feel sick I just want to die I want to die

[h3lp4m3]

[h3lp4m3]

I'm such a fucking pussy. Such a disgusting creature. What do I even bring to this fucking world? I'm just for entertainment. Just for people to look at me, find me beautiful, use me. I'm just a body. Just a face. No feelings, even tho I probably feel the most. I cry, cry cry. Oh how I cry. Intense. I cut. Cutting deep into my flesh hoping I'll find a proof that I exist, that I'm not just a toy.Once , twice. I'll stop. I say. The last time. Third time, then fourth. Then I get into fight. They scream. Why do they scream ? Fifth. She's a slut. They say. Sixth. The only good thing about her is her appearance. She's a shell. Seventh. Suddenly the cry stops. The blood is smeared on the tiles and flows into the sink. Peace. And she starts to cry again. What did she do? She's insane, abnormal, mad, weird. Who even cares? Laugh through the tears. Who would cry about me? No one. I'll probably disappoint my therapist, my pet. I know my parents wouldn't take care of him. They will gift him to someone. Or worse. They will do the same thing they did with me. Neglect. Neglect. Neglect. A neglected child, seeking comfort. No wonder I attach myself to everyone, no wonder they didn't care. Why would they? I'm a burden, a disappointment, a disgrace. A slut, whore. A body and a face. Am I even that? Am I beautiful enough? How do I act? I like you too much. I should probably convince myself that it was all a dream. All a dream. I'll probably take my own life, so that everyone else's would be easier. Why would they care, I ask ,myself and the scared child inside of me. The child does not want to die, she wants to live. She said- just ignore them, just focus on yourself, just stay. We have more to live for. Prove them wrong. Don't do this to yourself. Please you are hurting us, you are hurting me. Wasn't it enough ?

I'm trying to convince the kid that it would be a lot easier. That it would end all of our suffering. And that we will be reborn as a happy kid in a happy family. People won't treat us like this anymore, we won't have to sexualise ourselves, they will like us as who we are. She doesn't believe me. She is against it. She has always been. How should I do this? How do I make her believe me? She will always be a kid.

Maybe I didn't grow. Mentally. Because I want to be a happy kid, I want to be seen as a human, a kid. Nothing more. I want comfort, I'm seeking comfort. Why do you always deliberately confuse comfort with intimacy. Sexual. Sexual. Sexual. Is it really that important. Is it really the only thing I'm good at, I'm useful for?

To be honest, I don't know how the kid survived. I don't know how she stayed with me. Stayed inside of me. I thought she was long gone. I thought she was gone, the second I cutted trough my flesh with the kitchen knife. I thought the happy, bubbly kid inside of me flowed into the sink with my blood. I thought. I thought she was brutally and forcefully ripped out of myself.

I asked for help, no, I begged for help. I begged someone to notice how rotten, sad and pathetic my life has become. Nobody did, nobody even cared to notice. What should I do, huh? What am I supposed to do.

A fucking pathetic pussy. I can't even take my own life . Can't even do that.

[h3lp4m3]

I'm such a fucking pussy. Such a disgusting creature. What do I even bring to this fucking world? I'm just for entertainment. Just for people to look at me, find me beautiful, use me. I'm just a body. Just a face. No feelings, even tho I probably feel the most. I cry, cry cry. Oh how I cry. Intense. I cut. Cutting deep into my flesh hoping I'll find a proof that I exist, that I'm not just a toy.Once , twice. I'll stop. I say. The last time. Third time, then fourth. Then I get into fight. They scream. Why do they scream ? Fifth. She's a slut. They say. Sixth. The only good thing about her is her appearance. She's a shell. Seventh. Suddenly the cry stops. The blood is smeared on the tiles and flows into the sink. Peace. And she starts to cry again. What did she do? She's insane, abnormal, mad, weird. Who even cares? Laugh through the tears. Who would cry about me? No one. I'll probably disappoint my therapist, my pet. I know my parents wouldn't take care of him. They will gift him to someone. Or worse. They will do the same thing they did with me. Neglect. Neglect. Neglect. A neglected child, seeking comfort. No wonder I attach myself to everyone, no wonder they didn't care. Why would they? I'm a burden, a disappointment, a disgrace. A slut, whore. A body and a face. Am I even that? Am I beautiful enough? How do I act? I like you too much. I should probably convince myself that it was all a dream. All a dream. I'll probably take my own life, so that everyone else's would be easier. Why would they care, I ask ,myself and the scared child inside of me. The child does not want to die, she wants to live. She said- just ignore them, just focus on yourself, just stay. We have more to live for. Prove them wrong. Don't do this to yourself. Please you are hurting us, you are hurting me. Wasn't it enough ?

I'm trying to convince the kid that it would be a lot easier. That it would end all of our suffering. And that we will be reborn as a happy kid in a happy family. People won't treat us like this anymore, we won't have to sexualise ourselves, they will like us as who we are. She doesn't believe me. She is against it. She has always been. How should I do this? How do I make her believe me? She will always be a kid.

Maybe I didn't grow. Mentally. Because I want to be a happy kid, I want to be seen as a human, a kid. Nothing more. I want comfort, I'm seeking comfort. Why do you always deliberately confuse comfort with intimacy. Sexual. Sexual. Sexual. Is it really that important. Is it really the only thing I'm good at, I'm useful for?

To be honest, I don't know how the kid survived. I don't know how she stayed with me. Stayed inside of me. I thought she was long gone. I thought she was gone, the second I cutted trough my flesh with the kitchen knife. I thought the happy, bubbly kid inside of me flowed into the sink with my blood. I thought. I thought she was brutally and forcefully ripped out of myself.

I asked for help, no, I begged for help. I begged someone to notice how rotten, sad and pathetic my life has become. Nobody did, nobody even cared to notice. What should I do, huh? What am I supposed to do.

A fucking pathetic pussy. I can't even take my own life . Can't even do that.

[h3lp4m3]

I'm such a fucking pussy. Such a disgusting creature. What do I even bring to this fucking world? I'm just for entertainment. Just for people to look at me, find me beautiful, use me. I'm just a body. Just a face. No feelings, even tho I probably feel the most. I cry, cry cry. Oh how I cry. Intense. I cut. Cutting deep into my flesh hoping I'll find a proof that I exist, that I'm not just a toy.Once , twice. I'll stop. I say. The last time. Third time, then fourth. Then I get into fight. They scream. Why do they scream ? Fifth. She's a slut. They say. Sixth. The only good thing about her is her appearance. She's a shell. Seventh. Suddenly the cry stops. The blood is smeared on the tiles and flows into the sink. Peace. And she starts to cry again. What did she do? She's insane, abnormal, mad, weird. Who even cares? Laugh through the tears. Who would cry about me? No one. I'll probably disappoint my therapist, my pet. I know my parents wouldn't take care of him. They will gift him to someone. Or worse. They will do the same thing they did with me. Neglect. Neglect. Neglect. A neglected child, seeking comfort. No wonder I attach myself to everyone, no wonder they didn't care. Why would they? I'm a burden, a disappointment, a disgrace. A slut, whore. A body and a face. Am I even that? Am I beautiful enough? How do I act? I like you too much. I should probably convince myself that it was all a dream. All a dream. I'll probably take my own life, so that everyone else's would be easier. Why would they care, I ask ,myself and the scared child inside of me. The child does not want to die, she wants to live. She said- just ignore them, just focus on yourself, just stay. We have more to live for. Prove them wrong. Don't do this to yourself. Please you are hurting us, you are hurting me. Wasn't it enough ?

I'm trying to convince the kid that it would be a lot easier. That it would end all of our suffering. And that we will be reborn as a happy kid in a happy family. People won't treat us like this anymore, we won't have to sexualise ourselves, they will like us as who we are. She doesn't believe me. She is against it. She has always been. How should I do this? How do I make her believe me? She will always be a kid.

Maybe I didn't grow. Mentally. Because I want to be a happy kid, I want to be seen as a human, a kid. Nothing more. I want comfort, I'm seeking comfort. Why do you always deliberately confuse comfort with intimacy. Sexual. Sexual. Sexual. Is it really that important. Is it really the only thing I'm good at, I'm useful for?

To be honest, I don't know how the kid survived. I don't know how she stayed with me. Stayed inside of me. I thought she was long gone. I thought she was gone, the second I cutted trough my flesh with the kitchen knife. I thought the happy, bubbly kid inside of me flowed into the sink with my blood. I thought. I thought she was brutally and forcefully ripped out of myself.

I asked for help, no, I begged for help. I begged someone to notice how rotten, sad and pathetic my life has become. Nobody did, nobody even cared to notice. What should I do, huh? What am I supposed to do.

A fucking pathetic pussy. I can't even take my own life . Can't even do that.

[h3lp4m3]

I'm such a fucking pussy. Such a disgusting creature. What do I even bring to this fucking world? I'm just for entertainment. Just for people to look at me, find me beautiful, use me. I'm just a body. Just a face. No feelings, even tho I probably feel the most. I cry, cry cry. Oh how I cry. Intense. I cut. Cutting deep into my flesh hoping I'll find a proof that I exist, that I'm not just a toy.Once , twice. I'll stop. I say. The last time. Third time, then fourth. Then I get into fight. They scream. Why do they scream ? Fifth. She's a slut. They say. Sixth. The only good thing about her is her appearance. She's a shell. Seventh. Suddenly the cry stops. The blood is smeared on the tiles and flows into the sink. Peace. And she starts to cry again. What did she do? She's insane, abnormal, mad, weird. Who even cares? Laugh through the tears. Who would cry about me? No one. I'll probably disappoint my therapist, my pet. I know my parents wouldn't take care of him. They will gift him to someone. Or worse. They will do the same thing they did with me. Neglect. Neglect. Neglect. A neglected child, seeking comfort. No wonder I attach myself to everyone, no wonder they didn't care. Why would they? I'm a burden, a disappointment, a disgrace. A slut, whore. A body and a face. Am I even that? Am I beautiful enough? How do I act? I like you too much. I should probably convince myself that it was all a dream. All a dream. I'll probably take my own life, so that everyone else's would be easier. Why would they care I ask myself and the scared child inside of me. The child does not want to die, she wants to live. She said- just ignore them, just focus on yourself, just stay. We have more to live for. Prove them wrong. Don't do this to yourself. Please you are hurting us, you are hurting me. Wasn't it enough ?

I'm trying to convince the kid that it would be a lot easier. That it would end all of our suffering. And that we will be reborn as a happy kid in a happy family. People won't treat us like this anymore, we won't have to sexualise ourselves, they will like us as who we are. She doesn't believe me. She is against it. She has always been. How should I do this? How do I make her believe me? She will always be a kid.

Maybe I didn't grow. Mentally. Because I want to be a happy kid, I want to be seen as a human, a kid. Nothing more. I want comfort, I'm seeking comfort. Why do you always deliberately confuse comfort with intimacy. Sexual. Sexual. Sexual. Is it really that important. Is it really the only thing I'm good at, I'm useful for?

To be honest, I don't know how she survived. I don't know how she stayed with me. Stayed inside of me. I thought she was long gone. I thought she was gone, the second I cutted trough my flesh with the kithchen knife. I thought the happy, bubbly kid inside of me flowed into the sink with my blood. I thought. I thought she was brutally and forcefully ripped out of myself.

I asked for help, no, I begged for help. I begged someone to notice how rotten, sad and pathetic my life has become. Nobody did, nobody even noticed. What should I do, huh? What am I supposed to do.

I will pick myself up. Go work on myself. I'm not just a pretty face, not just a hot body. I'll show them how it's done. I want to get through this. I know I will. Everything will be okay. I'm gonna my life okay. I'll study, get that degree, I'm almost there. I have the motivation. I'm getting trough this. I have people that love me, people that like me, that are my friends. What are some dumb chicks gonna do? They don't have control over me. And not only that. Not only that. I'll make more and more friends, I almost forgot how much I loved life. How much I loved being alive. How much I like every season. Summer- because it's warm, I can wear my favourite skirts. Spring- Everything blossoms, love to sit on a bench- alone or with somebody. I love being alive. Autumn- the leaves looks so pretty, it has so much colour, everything is so colourful, unique. And winter- my birthday, Christmas(except my family), the Christmas spirit, Snow, oh how much I love the snow, it's magical. Magical.

I almost forgot how much I love to be around people, how much I like laughing, talking, listening to every story someone has to tell. It's always have been so unique to me. I never get bored of someone or someone's stories. It always amazes me how excited they get when they tell them.

Almost forgot how much I love taking care of my pet, seeing him happy, playful and curious. How much I love playing with him, petting him. It's an animal dw hahah.

Almost forget how excited I get when I see my favourite colour. How I always notice it.

Almost forgot how much I like to study, how much I like being prepared, getting good grades, how much I like being the best.

It's life. People come and go. And the only thing you have to remember is that you have to stay. You want to stay. I love you, whoever reads this. You are so strong that you stayed, went through everything that life has thrown at you. I love you, I'm proud of you. I know, believe me I know that every other celebrity says this, but I've been through this. I've been through hell and came back. You can do it. I can do it. I believe in you.

[h3lp4m3]

fuck what they say, fuck the one with god gives his toughest battles to his strongest soldiers, I don't want to fight anymore, I can't fight anymore, I've been fighting my whole life , I can't ,I don't want to . Why me ? Oh god what did I do ? I have had only 3 days that I was fully happy. Oh god. Oh god . Oh god . It must be something that I did , right ? If only I knew . If only I knew .

[h3lp4m3]

and I'm asking myself , how much more, how much more

[barbietraumas]

I've been so obsessed with this manga yall don't even know, and particularly this man right here. Like I know Sangwoo is sociopathic and psychotic and sadistic but like I think he actually loves him . Like actually I'm in love 😭. No, I'm not . I don't want that. Ok so sometimes I need to remind myself that 🤠. And despite the attraction I feel towards this man, no he's toxic ( but he's traumatised, anyways idc) . And yeah I think here they are low-key goals ? Pls don't hate me. Like I would rather die bc of my lover than broke up with him. And like I think Sangwoo actually loved Bum but didn't know how to show it . IDK . I shouldn't have read that shit for second time, now I'm traumatised again. Thank god I didn't read the end . Or should I ? No ! Ok so I think you think I'm insane . But no ? I think I'm actually not . And anyways he would kill meanyways bc I'm a girl. But I would prolly love him so 🤠. I'll be like " no no I swear I don't like you just bc of your looks, I like that you're psychotic and kill people too ! I swear . Like I would die for you " . And now imagine him with the bat like 👁👄👁 ? ( I secretly like him for his looks also, but more for his personality) . Anyways that's my vent post. Again I swear I'm sane and stable ( eh). Yeah ok bye

[h3lp4m3]

me being the reason people leave me..

Also me after crying my eyes out for 3 days : "Well people leave, there's nothing you can do about it 😔✨"

Like no stupid bitch just apologise 😃

[h3lp4m3]

You can literally track my mental state just by looking at my tumblr

[leskinhas]

[h3lp4m3]

If you're homophobic, racist, etc. pls unfollow me, I don't like you and never will ;) And no, that's not your opinion you're just disrespectful.

[rottenbunny]

it was better.

[h3lp4m3]

I'm such a fucking pussy. Such a disgusting creature. What do I even bring to this fucking world? I'm just for entertainment. Just for people to look at me, find me beautiful, use me. I'm just a body. Just a face. No feelings, even tho I probably feel the most. I cry, cry cry. Oh how I cry. Intense. I cut. Cutting deep into my flesh hoping I'll find a proof that I exist, that I'm not just a toy.Once , twice. I'll stop. I say. The last time. Third time, then fourth. Then I get into fight. They scream. Why do they scream ? Fifth. She's a slut. They say. Sixth. The only good thing about her is her appearance. She's a shell. Seventh. Suddenly the cry stops. The blood is smeared on the tiles and flows into the sink. Peace. And she starts to cry again. What did she do? She's insane, abnormal, mad, weird. Who even cares? Laugh through the tears. Who would cry about me? No one. I'll probably disappoint my therapist, my pet. I know my parents wouldn't take care of him. They will gift him to someone. Or worse. They will do the same thing they did with me. Neglect. Neglect. Neglect. A neglected child, seeking comfort. No wonder I attach myself to everyone, no wonder they didn't care. Why would they? I'm a burden, a disappointment, a disgrace. A slut, whore. A body and a face. Am I even that? Am I beautiful enough? How do I act? I like you too much. I should probably convince myself that it was all a dream. All a dream. I'll probably take my own life, so that everyone else's would be easier. Why would they care I ask myself and the scared child inside of me. The child does not want to die, she wants to live. She said- just ignore them, just focus on yourself, just stay. We have more to live for. Prove them wrong. Don't do this to yourself. Please you are hurting us, you are hurting me. Wasn't it enough ?

I'm trying to convince the kid that it would be a lot easier. That it would end all of our suffering. And that we will be reborn as a happy kid in a happy family. People won't treat us like this anymore, we won't have to sexualise ourselves, they will like us as who we are. She doesn't believe me. She is against it. She has always been. How should I do this? How do I make her believe me? She will always be a kid.

Maybe I didn't grow. Mentally. Because I want to be a happy kid, I want to be seen as a human, a kid. Nothing more. I want comfort, I'm seeking comfort. Why do you always deliberately confuse comfort with intimacy. Sexual. Sexual. Sexual. Is it really that important. Is it really the only thing I'm good at, I'm useful for?To be honest, I don't know how she survived. I don't know how she stayed with me. Stayed inside of me. I thought she was long gone. I thought she was gone, the second I cutted trough my flesh with the kithchen knife. I thought the happy, bubbly kid inside of me flowed into the sink with my blood. I thought. I thought she was brutally and forcefully ripped out of myself. I asked for help, no, I begged for help. I begged someone to notice how rotten, sad and pathetic my life has become. Nobody did, nobody even noticed. What should I do, huh? What am I supposed to do.

I will pick myself up. Go work on myself. I'm not just a pretty face, not just a hot body. I'll show them how it's done. I want to get through this. I know I will. Everything will be okay. I'm gonna my life okay. I'll study, get that degree, I'm almost there. I have the motivation. I'm getting trough this. I have people that love me, people that like me, that are my friends. What are some dumb chicks gonna do? They don't have control over me. And not only that. Not only that. I'll make more and more friends, I almost forgot how much I loved life. How much I loved being alive. How much I like every season. Summer- because it's warm, I can wear my favourite skirts. Spring- Everything blossoms, love to sit on a bench- alone or with somebody. I love being alive. Autumn- the leaves looks so pretty, it has so much colour, everything is so colourful, unique. And winter- my birthday, Christmas(except my family), the Christmas spirit, Snow, oh how much I love the snow, it's magical. Magical.

I almost forgot how much I love to be around people, how much I like laughing, talking, listening to every story someone has to tell. It's always have been so unique to me. I never get bored of someone or someone's stories. It always amazes me how excited they get when they tell them.

Almost forgot how much I love taking care of my pet, seeing him happy, playful and curious. How much I love playing with him, petting him. It's an animal dw hahah.

Almost forget how excited I get when I see my favourite colour. How I always notice it.

Almost forgot how much I like to study, how much I like being prepared, getting good grades, how much I like being the best.

It's life. People come and go. And the only thing you have to remember is that you have to stay. You want to stay. I love you, whoever reads this. You are so strong that you stayed, went through everything that life has thrown at you. I love you, I'm proud of you. I know, believe me I know that every other celebrity says this, but I've been through this. I've been through hell and came back. You can do it. I can do it. I believe in you.

[barbietraumas]

Ph- Fuzzy Lips, My fav Hentai