Contrary to my actions which inflict pain, or my thighs who would argue otherwise, I don’t like to be in pain. I do not want to feel helpless and bloody. I do not want to find comfort in this pain. And yet, here I am, and I do not want to be here.
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@mesmerizingvoid
Contrary to my actions which inflict pain, or my thighs who would argue otherwise, I don’t like to be in pain. I do not want to feel helpless and bloody. I do not want to find comfort in this pain. And yet, here I am, and I do not want to be here.
wow no one tells you how bad relapse hurts
anyone else jus relapse THE FUCK outta quarantine???? because same
can we just skip the whole “how are you” part of the conversation i’m tired of lying
God, not to come off as entitled or anything I just people people cared as much as they once did and made the same amount of effort rather than leaving and being like hey so you okay then? But I guess that’s just the passage of time I guess.
if they knew what they said would go straight to my head, what would they say instead?
2:40: cruel
Do you ever feel so scared? Like I do?
Do you ever wonder why? Like I do?
When there is blood dripping down
And my heart clenching at the hurt
That is a response to my mind, filled with dirt
And disgusting things that cause pain
To anyone whose close enough to hear my thoughts
I watch as your eyes get red and your blood clots
And you voice quakes and i think to myself
Why did you ever wish me upon yourself
And your breath slows down and your body calms
And even though you’re right here in my arms
I want to run, and run and run till by lungs are burning
My eyes water and my soul stops churning
Because the cruel monster I am
Does not deserve to feel peace
When I’ve left you in pieces
Do you ever wonder how wonderful the world would be without you? Like I do?
Do you ever feel so scared? Like I do?
I feel so much, all of the time. That in the end I'm left with nothing else left to feel.
I'm always feeling and never feeling.
I feel. I hear. I listen. I give all of my attention to so much around me, that I am simply left with the emptiness of no more real feeling.
I felt so much that I felt nothing at all-
I know it’s wrong but
I can’t help thinking that death is the solution.
“I’m sorry I get too loud. I’m sorry I get too clingy sometimes. I’m sorry for laughing at so many stupid things. I’m sorry for all the times I annoyed you. I’m sorry that I have yet to learn how to not be so awkward. I’m sorry for taking up your time. I’m sorry for never leaving you alone. I’m sorry for all of my random moods. I’m sorry for all the random things I say and do. I’m sorry that I practically act like a child most of the time.”
— And honestly I would want to leave too
The cycle
Me to myself: I’m just gonna eat a normal meal and not purge so my body can be nourished and not get used to never digesting anything.
Also me: *purges because a normal meal is too much food, binges because now I’m hungry again, purges again, eats more, purges, feels full enough to stop because not everything came up, still eats more and purges again*
~ I’m a joke ~
Oh fuck, i've done it again.
My brain: don't purge!
My brain: oh, but it's totally cool to take double your prescriped antianxiety, yeah no problem.
Me: ...
Me: anyway I feel great now