Dear diary...
I think the only way I could ever feel any comfort is by numbing myself of all thoughts and emotions.
All they ever do is hurt me, more and more each day.
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Dear diary...
I think the only way I could ever feel any comfort is by numbing myself of all thoughts and emotions.
All they ever do is hurt me, more and more each day.
My trust in people in slowly degrading to nothing
Be careful with people who are suicidal. Let me explain.
1. They still show up. To work. To school. To family events. And then collapse when they’re finally alone.
2. They listen to everyone else’s problems, but feel like a burden for having their own.
3. Their laughter sounds real, but it’s often a shield they’ve perfected over time.
4. They don’t always want to die—they just want the pain, the noise, the heaviness to stop.
5. They function well enough that people assume they’re fine, so no one looks closer.
6. They may give hope to others while quietly losing it themselves.
7. Their hardest moments happen in silence—late at night, in the shower, during the drive home.
8. They don’t always say “I’m suicidal.” Sometimes they say “I’m tired,” “I’m empty,” or nothing at all.
9. They apologize for existing, for needing reassurance, for taking up space.
10. They survive the day for others—but don’t know how to live it for themselves.
So when we say
check on people,
don’t make it a slogan.
Sit with them.
Ask twice.
Listen without fixing.
Stay longer than feels comfortable.
Because the people who seem “strong,” “okay,” or “used to it”
are often the ones fighting the hardest battles in silence.
And silence can be dangerous—but connection saves lives. 💛
I would say today has been a bad day.
But that's been every day for quite a while now.
searching thinspo like
in the end we are all creatures in need of love and comfort
Fuck my stupid miserable life
Food is terrifying because its consequences are almost immediate. Your stomach swells, within half an hour, you zip up your sweater because your ribs are now hidden under a layer of mush and you’re afraid to be caught because THAT isn’t romantic.
Your head warms up with thoughts of running a hot bath, only to lie cold and still beside it, wet tiles jabbing into your soft skin, holding your breathe to keep quiet as you transform your most recent mistake into something more palatable for your sick mind.
Red knuckles.
Your blood sugar spikes and your hands have stopped shaking. Your room is silent and a few crumbs sit on the table beside your arm. You have grease stain on your shirt. The mirror screams harsh words at you. You remind yourself that you must be kind but it never works. People will tell you to speak nice words to yourself, to not punish yourself after these kinds of mistakes, to love yourself either way. I try to love myself for a moment, grease stains and all. And I am once again reminded that there is nothing true about the false love I feed myself. So I sit down in bed. 3rd night awake, all of it feels wasted now because you’ve eaten for 3 in only 15 minutes, but you shut off your light and pray your mind goes with it.
it doesn’t.
the thoughts never go away. Not even in the first moments of dawn when you open your eyes will the thoughts be quiet. Stumble over to the mirror and try to be optimistic, they tell you to be optimistic, not to lose hope, to try and be happy. It’s too early to be this angry.
green tea, a 3 hour run on the treadmill, a cold shower, a day of starvation, sex, drugs, 40k steps, a night out dancing, god does it feel nice to come back home and know you did something right. Your hands are shaking again. You wipe last nights crumbs off the table and know that you did the right thing. Yesterday will not happen again.
It will. It will happen many times again. You do it over and over again until your body is in a confused, hopeless, stalemate with itself. But for today you are at peace, the inevitable will come, but not today. Today you rest.
What it feels like coming on here as a person with an ed but no self control