Written by Anonymous

This is the blog where I talk to myself, post things that I've written, and generally spill out my feelings. You should probably be aware that I'm a nervous wreck. Enjoy.

[perniciousqualms]

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I'm still not sure

why I laughed when I saw your face today. Maybe it was how pathetic everything seemed to me, maybe it wasn't. For some reason your expression didn't seem genuine, like someone told you to put on that face for me. It didn't feel like you were the one who really meant it. I mean just a few days ago we were talking as if nothing happened, so I thought everything was fine. Did my text set you off? Was it because I was clearly not into the idea of people thinking we were dating? You knew this before, so I'm not sure why you would freak out about it again. I can only assume that this time the dagger drove too deep, and that it hit a vein. At this point I'm supposed to say I'm sorry. I'm not.

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Self hate is so emotionally consuming and destructive. Every time I think I’m getting better, I’m really not. I make one slip up and all the negative swirls of energy are back. I’m back to wishing I was never born, or wishing I could disappear. I’m a shame to my family and to all people no matter what stupid “accomplishments” hang over my head. In the end, I’ll never succeed.

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Anxiety

Anxiety is undoubtably one of the most crippling emotional states that I have encountered in my life, and yet I find that I am constantly immersed in it. Even when I think it's not there, when I think I'm calm cool and collected, I feel the tides of anxiety slipping between the cracks of my known existence. Crippling me, shaking me up from the inside out with its cruel and merciless force. 

I can't even bring myself to legitimize my feelings. Get over it, I tell myself. It's not a big deal. Just walk in and don't feel powerless, don't feel badly, just don't. It's very difficult for me to even acknowledge that I have a problem, because problems of the mind like what I struggle with aren't societally looked at as "problems." Instead, they are looked at as being temporary feelings of uneasiness that can swiftly and easily be controlled with some mental coaxing.

I hate feeling this way. It hurts. It's upsetting. It's debilitating. I try and try to make myself get over my feelings, but they don't stop even when I think I have improved. 

Fuck anxiety.

Cursing out my feelings sure as hell doesn't make them any better, but it does make them feel more real. So with that, fuck having to feel this way. 

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Oh really?

You're going to call someone a stick, and then cry when someone pokes your stomach because you're fat? Please. Drop the double standard bullshit.

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I don't know what you're trying to do Can't you see they don't respect you? Oh right, they're smiling at your joke. You spinned and swiveled, and you, they did poke. You thought that attention, those looks, those smiles Weren't done as insincere beguiles? You believe that they really care? Drop the shoes, the clothes, the same red hair. Stop being me, you can't pull it off well.  You can't go around and be a kiss and tell. I've learned firsthand you can't do that and be seen With respect and care from people inherently mean. Drop the act, the drugs and sex talk. It's doing you nothing, you're a pathetic laughing stock. 

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empty vs. filled

"i don't want to feel" she shouts as shakes from fear little does she know

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hush -- hide the book don't let them have a look keep a smile stay a while with the facade they mistook.

yes, it's true when they see you it's not the one they thought.

they laugh, they joke, they love the one who with herself, she's fought

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I want to cry. I want to feel the overwhelming crush of feelings take over me and leave me shaking, shocked. Not because I'm sad, but because I need to feel something extreme. From constantly stifling my feelings it's as though there's a raging war occurring within me, and I need there to be a dramatic ending. So I'm going to torture myself with melancholy music and make do.

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the wrinkles in your skin where you let the water in that’s where I want to be; to indulge in your humanity

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Water

sit, pen in hand, aiming to pierce the parchment with pointed daggers and yet all that results are words, formed of letters, rudimentary lines shapes circles hand motions can these scrawls describe emotion? stifled by language, words, you sit. mind in a civil war as waves of feeling, humanity, thrash against each other and erode the memories of a more orderly time you don’t know what to make of it so instead you drag your ballpoint across and hope to drain the liquid enough for your engulfing emotions to wither and crust, fade so they can blow away and you can shove them in a corner like you always do

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How am I going to look you in the eye and think, I told you no but you still said yes?

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A note

http://www.bandbacktogether.com/self-loathing-self-hatred-resources/

[shinji--moon-deactivated2017123]

Screw falling in love. My heart itself is already in tangles. A web of nonsense and a drawerful of necklace chains that I will never have the patience to separate. I am sounds mixed with different mediums of light. Six thousand eight hundred dialects of flesh that I don’t have enough time to translate into words. This dictionary of skin is unreadable and Latin is dead because of what we never had the balls to tell each other. I am swearing off of love because everything inside of me is oil and vinegar and I no longer believe that it’s morally correct to fall in love with the intent of both destroying and rebuilding another human being. I am a forest fire and an ocean, and my favorite color is the same as the color that hurts me the most. I don’t want your sentimentality. Quit looking at me intending to melt me. We all know it’s working. We all know what this heart is capable of unfolding. I am not as strong as my words pretend to be. Not as quiet as these caesuras promise. This heart is a patchwork quilt of people that leave different shades of blue inside of me. The drowning. Your skies. The outline of a blue jay on a porcelain plate. For now, I am closing off these bones for someone who will know how to trace me without me ever telling them what I look like naked. I no longer want to seduce the words out of people just to see if I can. The love that I’m looking for falls out of the realm of your lips and my lips and our lips doing a dance that involves bodies and more skin and your hair touching mine, gently, like two winds colliding. Screw falling in love. It’s too much to handle when I’m already having difficulties breathing and keeping track of my heartbeats and making sure that my limbs are doing what they need to be doing. But, men are so beautiful. But this heart is so fragile. I am every vulnerability that the thesaurus has to offer me and in a certain light it’s impossible for me not to pull you towards me with the intent of kissing the very life out of you. What I’m trying to say is that you are not allowed in. What I’m trying to say is that all I want is to open myself up and have you rearrange me, untangle the gold chains of my heart, love me for every shade of blue that I have hidden in the silent spaces between parentheses. I have sworn off of falling in love, but I know that in the morning, outside, in the pale frost of February, all I’ll want is to hold another person’s hand, warm and gloved, in their coat’s pocket.

Shinji Moon, I Don’t Want To Be Loved. I Just Want To Be Untangled. (via floralnymph)

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I want to go into my room all day and blast sad music in my ears until I bawl my corneas off.