@mommypsych0 - Tumblr Blog

Saw this on Reddit the other day

I can never find the right words to tell people what I’m thinking. Telling them I’m tired doesn’t work, but I can’t seem to vocalize that I’m mentally exhausted and sick of existing. Telling them I’m sad doesn’t work either, but I can’t explain that I’m struggling not to kill myself and that the joy in everything in my life is gone and when I wake up to the sun in my eyes, I have to struggle to get myself out of bed because most of me didn’t even want to wake up at all. I can’t tell them I’m numb because what I’m feeling is so much more complex than numb and I don’t have the vocabulary to tell them that I feel like I’m drowning and it terrifies me that I feel nothing as it’s happening, and that my insides want to scream but I can’t even find it in me to shed a tear anymore, that every single aspect of my life feels like it’s shaded in grey because someone sucked out all the colors but I can hardly even remember what colors are because I can no longer remember a time I didn’t feel like this. No, I don’t know how to say that. So I just whisper “I’m fine.”

chandelyer-deactivated20241003

living with mental illness is like,, everyone is going forward.. and I’ve made… the smallest of progress over two damn years… and sometimes, I’m even going backwards

little-princessbunny

Literally this!

sa-dnesss

“I feel like I am so far behind in life that I will never catch up. Everybody is doing so many things with their lives and I am just here.. achieving nothing. I wonder if that’s all I will ever be, nothing.”

—

svnflowerdreams

me 🤝 telling people ‘i’m good’ when i’m having a bad breakdown bc i know they won’t really care and me and my feelings are an inconvenience anyway

saahlo-folinaa

“Sometimes suffering is just suffering. It doesn’t make you stronger. It doesn’t build character. It only hurts.”

— Kate Jacobs (via perfectquote)

saahlo-folinaa

it’s one of those nights again. the kind where you can feel the sadness and anxiety in your stomach. the kind where you want to yell and scream and cry because nothing is okay and you aren’t sure it ever will be. the kind where you stare at your scars, wanting to make more. just to feel something other than this ache. it is nights like this that make me terrified to keep living.