Worthless Piece of Shit

As lost as Alice As mad as the Hatter

[ninasdrafts]

“I know you’re out there somewhere, feeling haunted by your memories and the people who walked away from you. Somebody once told me that these ghosts never really left you, that you’d spend your whole life collecting them if you were too slow to outrun them. They take up residence in the space between your ribs, in the silence between one burst of laughter and the next, in the nooks and crannies of your soul. Whenever you think you escaped them, they catch up to you again, red eyes staring, sharp-toothed mouths leering. But no one told me that I had been mistaken all this time, that it had never been about running - I had to learn it the hard way. It was never about being the fastest one, or about pretending you were fine when you were not. Truth is these ghosts can never be outrun. They can’t be ignored. They can’t be folded away into the darkest corners of your mind, and left there to rot. They will survive. They will find a way to rise from the dead - but so will you. Again and again. Let me tell you a secret: these ghosts have no power over you. They may be a part of your past, a part of the person you once were, and a part of the people who used to walk next to you. But they will never be powerful enough to tear you down. They will never be powerful enough to take your strength away from you if you embrace them for what they are: a sign that after all that you’ve been through you still decided to keep fighting. A sign that you threw back your shoulders and met your demons with a smile on your face. These ghosts are like scars. Some of them will never go away. And some of them shouldn’t.”

— ghosts / n.j.

[ninasdrafts]

“The different ways we deal with pain are fathomless and boundless. Some of us are loud about it. Our grief simmers in our blood, lapping against the roofs of our mouths like the waves against the shore, and the only way to lessen the pressure is to speak. To let it all out. To scream it from the rooftops, this incredible injustice we’ve had to cope with. To finally share what’s been bothering us, what’s been weighing us down for so long. We survived and we want to shout about it. Some of us take our pain and make art out of it. We write, or paint, or sing. We act, or sculpt, or dance. We use it to help others. To encourage people that are going through the same thing. We take something bad and turn it into something good. We take something that’s been hurting us and turn it into something that makes us and others happy. We survived and we create. Some of us deal with our trauma in silence. We keep it all in, feeling’s bottled up, sorted into neat files, stored into boxes and shoved into the depths of our mind. From time to time, we retrieve these boxes and take a look at them. We do it at night, when we’re alone, when there’s no one around to watch us. One day we might open up about the things that have happened to us. But only once we’ve learned to live with the boxes’ contents long enough to know it’s finally time to take them out with the trash and make space for new ones. We survived and we keep it to ourselves. But these are not the only ways. We survived and sometimes respond with anger. We survived and sometimes don’t know what to do but to try and suppress the memories of our darkest hours. Who are we to say anyone’s doing it wrong? Often we are too quick to judge. We see someone deal with their pain in a way that is different than ours and we assume that it’s not right. As long as it helps us heal, how wrong can it be, really? Pain is not something we want in life, sure. We’d rather live without it. But doesn’t it unite us, no matter how differently we deal with it? Pain means we have one thing in common: we survive and we grow.”

— ways to deal with pain / n.j.

[ninasdrafts]

“On some days you can spot a storm on the horizon hours before it rolls in. You can see it from miles away. It’s scary, but it also gives you time to prepare. You can seek shelter inside, close all the windows and draw the curtains. You can even hide beneath the blankets, in a safe space that solely belongs to you. But there are also times when it hits you out of nowhere and you never even see it coming. When it’s upon you in a heartbeat and just like that, the wind slams into you and knocks the air from your chest. The waves pull you under and water fills your lungs until you can’t tell up from down anymore. There is not much you can do, really: you can only keep fighting. You can only keep breathing. And through it all, you have to stay afloat. If you can do that, there is no reason why this storm shouldn’t pass you by, like all the others have done before, and why you should not rise from the beneath the wreckage again. The storm will pass, and until it has, all you have to do is stay afloat. It doesn’t matter how - all that matters is that you do.”

— stay afloat / n.j.

[justbepatient]

I have learnt that I apologize too much. That I apologize when I shouldn’t, nor need to. I still feel the need to, however. Someone needs to make up for the unsaid apologies in life. Even if it’s for double texting I’ll apologize, in hopes it will make up for the apology he didn’t get when she left him on read for hours on end. When I seem too clingy and care too much because he needs to hear a sorry to account for the one he didn’t get when she cared too little about him. Someone in life needs to fill the void of unsaid apologies. Even if it means apologizing for nothing.

[rebeltaintedheart]

“I wish you had hit me every time I did something wrong I wish every shout was followed by a slap a punch a kick something I wish my teachers would ask me questions about black eyes and that I was told I would be taken from you because of all of it. Because no one cares about the child who is afraid to go home because mom yells no one cares if I cry with the thought of calling you that I want to vomit when I think of you that I go silent when you’re around that I recoil when you touch me “I don’t abuse you.” “I don’t come at you with knives” no no you don’t you just call me names and put me down you make me feel like a mistake that it’s all my fault lighting the gas setting me on fire till I want to die. I wish you had hit me I don’t know if it would’ve worked but I wish you had because then someone would believe me when I say “I’m abused” but all my scars and bruises are internal. I can’t talk to others without fear that they’ll be you. I think of you and I can’t find a good memory I look at myself and just hear your voice I hate myself because you always made me feel like I was just below the line. That I was a 70% and never a 100. I was not a child I was a puppet a trophy a doll or pet to be dressed and groomed I was money wasted again and again and not once could I forget it. I wish when you threatened me with a smack that you just did it because then I wouldn’t feel so stupid crying over just your voice.”

— Based off something I had to say to my aunt when my family didn’t believe me about my mother’s verbal abuse. While I know that neither form of abuse is preferable to -anyone-, this is still a thought that rushes through my mind when I think about my mom.  (via owlscratch)

[healing-phoenix]

Why Coping Skills May Not Work

I am firm believer of developing and using coping skills as an essential part of your recovery. However, from my personal experience and from what others can tell me at times, there are periods when coping thoughts or skills don’t seem to do anything.

To those out there who relate to this, I want to give you my two cents on this. If this is where you are at, ask yourself: have I processed all the emotions that are coming up for me? Have I allowed another person bear witness to my pain and hold me through it? Am I allowing myself to feel at all? Or am I trying to ignore, repress, or shove it deep down so I don’t have to deal with it?

I know how hard it can be recovering from emotional abuse and emotional neglect. But if you have a nagging sense inside you that tells you, these coping skills don’t feel like enough, I want you to know that you are exactly right. It is only a slice of the recovery pie. But if you are really ready to take on your recovery, you have to address all of the necessary pieces to recovery. In this case, you have to address all the emotional pain and give permission to yourself to feel all the anger and sadness–seeking guidance from a therapist in process. The only way out of it is through it. Coping skills will not work, if you are not conjointly addressing the underlying emotions and pain. Or else the emotions will continue to demand our attention. They need us to hear them out.

That is why I always recommend to people who have reached out to me and in my posts to seek therapy. Not only will you have a professional who can guide you through the arduous process of healing your emotional wounds, you will also have another human being who can hear and validate your experience, and bear witness to your pain. From my own experience, I can tell you how significant and powerful this can be. How that alone can begin bleeding out a good portion of the toxicity you’ve internalized.

Maybe you’re not ready to take on all the emotions you’ve buried inside. That’s okay. Allow yourself to not feel ready yet–to resist it even. But when the time comes, know that there are people out there to help and guide you, once you feel ready to ask. ❤️

[oapatini16]

Depression

Depression was not crying myself to sleep

Depression was desperately wanting to cry but feeling too drained to work up the energy to do so because I lost all my tears and ambition years ago

Depression was not bursting out in tears in the shower

Depression was sitting in the corner of the shower as I lay my head on my knees, letting the hot water consume me

Depression was not writing beautiful, relatable poetry

Depression was forgetting how to craft stanzas because I lost the will to create

Depression was not writing gloomy emotions in a journal

Depression was writing suicide note after suicide note only to throw them out because they were not good enough, just like me

Depression was not leaning on my friends for help

Depression was carrying my friends because, hey, if I couldn’t carry myself why not carry somebody else

Depression was not wearing all black in an attempt to explain my angst

Depression was wearing bright, vibrant colors to try and convince everyone that I was okay-that I was doing just fine

Depression was not a temporary struggle that made me stronger

Depression is my life long battle that improves, but it never goes away

Depression was not a therapy appointment that instantly made me happy

Depression was switching from therapist to therapist because nobody was helping me cope with the emotions I’d been carrying on my shoulders for so long

Depression was not a few happy pills that brought the color back into the world

Depression was a few happy pills that allowed you me to see red-maybe some blue- but nothing in between the two

Depression was not being constantly homesick

Depression was avoiding home because it was home that made me sick

Depression was not asking my parents for help

Depression was desperately hiding from my parents because they would never be proud if they really saw what I’d become

Depression was not constantly struggling to meet expectations

Depression was giving up on my puny little goals because I was a disappointment to everyone-such a fucking disappointment

Depression was not slowly dying inside

Depression was a hellish place in between life and death because I could not die if I was not truly alive

Depression was not easy

Depression was torture

[rebeltaintedheart]

“You know, we are not perfect. But then again, who really is? We cant blame ourself on the mistakes we make when we are living. We are really just experiencing life. You live and you learn. There are times where i feel like giving up. There are times where i feel worthless. Or times where im insecure about myself. But once i got older i found out that i’m not the only one facing these problems. I know how much i’m worth. But i wish that i knew that last year. I know that i deserve more than the way i get treated time on time. That everytime i show that i care about somebody they use my kindness for weakness. I know and i notice. And when people keep treating you poorly you become heartless and stop putting your trust in anything or anybody. I know for a fact that i deserve more than keep being hurt while im putting my trust in people. I am not perfect but i know my selfworth. Stop acting like i’m not the one that would be at your doorstep at 5am when you are crying yourself to sleep with red bloodshot eyes from the alcohol. Stop treating me like i am a stranger when i only want the best for you. But who am i fooling. We all know that people leave and that friendships fade away and that you can only depend on yourself at the end of the day. But how nice would it be if people stayed with you thru the good and the bad? That understands you when you make bad decisions. Because even when you marry you promise all those things, all those fantasies that you end up breaking. How could you promise somebody to love them forever when love is just an feeling? A feeling that you could lose when you wake up the next morning. We are not perfect, but we deserve it. We been thru too much, we experienced every emotion and every feeling. And sometimes we are lonely. Sometimes it feels like nobody understands me and that i need to distance myself from people to understand myself a little more. Just to sit back and reflect on everything that happend the past months and how i can carry any further. I know that i am fighting myself sometimes, change is strange but we need to accept it. We are not perfect, but we are care-taking. Who wants to be perfect anyway? Why would you want to live by the rules and do the same thing every day? I surely am not perfect, but i know that i am strong. I know that i won’t settle for less. And so should you, the one that feels like their not worth it while you really are. You are so important. You deserve everything you want and you will achieve it. Everybody faces struggles along the way but you sure as hell will reach your destination. Some will take a couple of months to reach it and some take a couple of years. Work on yourself every day and put a lot of love into yourself and see how quick you will start to appreciate yourself more. We are not perfect, but we are worth it.”

— yungogsyd  (via shareaquote)

[themindbehindthelense]

A Letter to Myself

Dear you,

You blame yourself. I know that. I can’t tell you not to blame yourself, because I still blame myself too, but I feel like I should tell you that none of this is your fault. I’m not going to lie though -I don’t want us to be a hypocrite. So I’m just going to tell you that you blame yourself, and I blame myself, and I understand that. We understand that.

Sometimes I feel like we aren’t the same person. I talk to you sometimes, and you talk back. You respond to my voice with silence, but I can still hear you. I am a good listener. Right now, we are us, but you are still you, and I am still me. We are the same, but we are separate. That is okay. We are our own entities entwined to form one soul. Sometimes we disagree, but we still move as one, supporting our differences and doing all that we can to be whole. In a sense, we are Yin and Yang, comprised of our own individualities that allow us each to exist uniquely, yet we each contain a piece of one another so that we can remain in continuous, harmonious movement, creating our own single, balanced existence. We are separate, yet we are one.

And so, I understand you. I understand that you are in pain, and I understand that you are frustrated. You are angry, you are confused, you are overwhelmed, you are lost. You do not know what to do, or what to think, or what to feel. You are lost in a desolate, directionless region that lies between perceived morality and personal content. You are told time and again to do what is right, and you are told time and again to do what makes you happy and whole. But no one has ever given you instruction for what to do when morality will offset your happiness, and when happiness will betray your morality. What are you to do when doing what is right will cost you your heart? What are you to do when feeling okay will wreck you with guilt? Sometimes our morals derive from sacrifice, and sometimes our joy stems from a seed of selfishness.

I wish that I could tell you which decision you should make, if there really is a decision that can be made at all. I wish I could urge you to pursue your happiness without hesitation, but I know that I would be trivializing your ability to care for the people around you. I wish that I could tell you how to feel, that I could tell you how to navigate your way out of this desert of uncertainty. But I cannot.

I just want you to know that you are not alone, despite how empty your heart may be right now. I stand here beside you, despite how desolate this terrain may be. I know that you are hurting, and I know that perhaps there really is no solution to your troubles. I see the hand that you extend in need of comfort, and I hear your gentle, longing whispers for understanding. I am here, and while we may exist as one body, you are not alone in your physical existence. Without end, I see for you, I hear for you, I feel for you. I care for you.

You are not alone.

With solidarity,

Me.

[creativitygonecrazy-deactivated]

She never wants to think that she’s ugly, but every time she looks at the mirror she has to remind herself, “You are beautiful. You are beautiful.”

She’s not Regina-George-pretty, but she has a face that makes a fair number of guys come at her. They often fall for her simple and innocent look, but some confessed that their favorites are her eyes and lips. She has a body that both sexes praise, and she does put effort to maintain her figure. All of these are not unknown facts to her, but to her it is but a laughable thing – to like someone by their physical façade while being ignorant to her inner-being. She knows she’s beautiful, but when she thinks of giving any one of these boys a chance, she wonders how quickly he’ll run upon seeing the side of her that of which is messy. Again, she tells herself, “You are beautiful. You are beautiful.”

If they had known her back then, these guys crushing on her might not even notice her. The boys she has loved had taught her and changed her little by little in just the couple of years that passed.

One of her lovers liked her simplicity and that she should stay with being a shirt-and-jeans type of girl. She did, but he left her for a cutesy girl who wore short skirts and make up. His words mocked her to her face, and she felt so belittled, insecure. Fashion has always been a part of her vocabulary but she just didn’t feel the need to dress up. She used to believe that if a guy truly loves her, he would even if she looks like a slob, but men do not like women who don’t put on effort on themselves – this, she learned from one of her former lovers. Even though they parted ways, this guy made her feel good for looking good. Now, boys would even take their time to make a second glance at her. Admittedly, she somehow likes the attention, except for the cat-calling, but this to her is just funny – she dresses up to look good for herself, not to make their cocks hard just by staring at her legs. Although he also made her appreciate being healthy, it’s her next lover that taught her to love her body. He had an ideal physique, so she wanted to be on his level. Even though she gained and lost weight every now and then from her normal, she wanted to be fit like him, which he loved. He also became a part of her past but he loved every inch of her skin, and she began to do so as well. When another boy comes to offer his affection, she believed he’d stay around for good, but he didn’t. He chose a girl who everyone says is below her in every aspect, but she just smiles because although she also thinks the same, she doesn’t completely believe it. What else would he want? She was so beautiful already. She knows this, because now she’s not the only one who reminds herself that but also the people around her.

A few who have heard her speak her mind admire her intelligence, but that often gets overlooked as not many men like the idea of their misses being smarter than them. Her heart is kind and loving, but guys often comment on her attitude. They tell her she’s got to keep it cool and stop being too sensitive. It’s as if they love her vessel but they would prefer that she keeps her heart hidden away. It’s in times like these when she feels that again, that façade slowly breaking down. It all comes crashing while her insecurities and anxieties arise, and she finds herself trying to remember that: “You are beautiful. You are beautiful.”

All these time, she thought that everything she had been doing was only for herself. It did help boost her self-esteem, but at least back then she can still improve on so many things to make her appearance more beautiful for other people’s liking. Now, she will always have insecurities, no matter how beautiful she gets, because society judges her by her exterior. She realizes that everything about her screams, “Don’t you see? I’m beautiful too.”

Yes, you are beautiful. You are beautiful.

[creativitygonecrazy-deactivated]

“These days my hair has been messy and unhealthy. It’s one of the signs I look out for to know if I’m stressed out. Insomnia has set in again. It has been inhabiting my pillow for more than three months now. I sleep in more than I need to, even though I know it will give me a headache that’ll accompany me all day. I guess I need that to force my mind to slow down with thinking. My thoughts are scattered all over the place, and so are my emotions — first it’s overflowing, then it leaves me empty. It’s as if I spilled them only to evaporate into thin air. Everyone is hustling as I struggle to write my words down. While everything around me continues to move, my life seems stagnant. I look back and try to remember a time when I was genuinely happy, but I’ve forgotten that period if it ever existed. I’m slumped in this room most of the time wondering where this is going. I tell myself that everything that’s happening is part of the process; that it will all end soon. I’m strong. I know I am, but these days have been going on for years, and honestly these days are too much.”

— AM // these days are too much (via creativitygonecrazy)

[creepypeachy-deactivated2024061]

“She was the moon, it’s a shame you didn’t appreciate the night, but I stayed awake to witness what you chose to ignore. I found beauty in her darkness…”

— R.H. Sin “Whiskey, Words, and a Shovel”

[nicolelyonspoetry]

“I wonder where she goes at night when the world is fast asleep. For in the morning she smells of midnight and there is stardust upon her feet.”

— Nicole Lyons

[nicolelyonspoetry]

“There she goes, with her restless heart and cool eyes, crossing stars and pulling the moon down again.”

— Nicole Lyons

[nicolelyonspoetry]

“Moon child with your galaxy heart, cool your heels and stay awhile.”

— Nicole Lyons

[writerscreed]

“Sometimes the thoughts in your head are too tangled to ever undo the knot like a ball of string unravelled. Sometimes you cannot untie your emotions and the only thing left to do is set the string alight.”

— burn the string // a poem (via sapphicauthor)

[themindbehindthelense]

“I like my music loud enough that I can feel it reverberate in my chest. That I can’t hear my own voice. That I can feel every single note, every beat, every chord. That nothing else in the world matters except what I am feeling in that moment. I like my music loud enough that I can feel.”

— Insomniac’s Journal (via themindbehindthelense)