terminal depression

homeless in my car, again. paypal email is [email protected]

[terminaldepression]

praying for the future - a future i fear i will never see.

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i found the coolest vintage book at the goodwill to read next and i love it. worth the $1.99 from my change

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i’m sick to my stomach, i havent been able to keep much down when i am able to eat.

down 10 lbs in 2 weeks - going to try to get back to the clinic tomorrow to see if i can get anything to help me keep food down, and to stop the dramatic weight loss.

squatting in a building for a week and he wants me out. back to my car - but i dont have $120 to renew my registration that expired so i’ll get my car towed and be sleeping on the side of the road if i get pulled over again.

book find - $1.99 at goodwill

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homeless but at least i kept some of my cute outfits so i at least look socially acceptable

gas station selfie

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endings

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go back to your roots, weird girl

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i’m writing a script. the next “Bojack Horseman”.

i told him i’d write him something one day. something big enough that he’d finally understand…even if we never spoke again.

this is it.

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Slice me open, bleed me dry like prey, so I can feel somehow free, naked.

Deplete me.

Despair, Destruction, Death.

Submission.

Suture yourself into my corpse, and bring the rotted hollow of my soul back to life.

Lift my spirits straight by the strings you've sewn.

Make this puppet dance.

Take away the thoughts, decisions, options.

Free me from self-consumption as my own mind devours itself, and choose to consume me instead.

Relieve me of the burden of mending my own broken heart.

Kill the pain.

Mend my soul.

Love me.

Author's Note:

If all you've read is morbidity you understand nothing of love and desperation, or what it creates when chaotically intertwined.

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Driving into the city limits of my childhood, I loosen my grip on the wheel - just as I always loosen my grip on myself.

It ripples waves of submission and defeat through me. The yearning for freedom is trapped in my throat, while the reality of entrapment sinks in.

I will always return.

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scavenged for $3 to nab a large jar of vintage floral floating bath candles i saw at the local thrift.

- - <- this close to losing my mind, being a girl is tough, but at least i have the luxury of being able to take a bath for the time being.

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welcome to winter ❄️

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if it doesn’t look like something a secret fairy princess would wear, it isn’t in my wardrobe

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truly blessed

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clothing tags were so cute back in the early 2000s ~ and shopping in the mall was such a vibe with the dimmed warm toned lights 🥺

forever miss the vibe

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romanticizing to avoid the inevitable consequences of my downfall in life with my last candle & a bath