sometimes I write stuff @trynottolinger - Tumblr Blog

might kill myself for a laugh tbh.

if people care why is it always at a cost?

I'm selfish for dieing, because that will make people sad... so we have established that being sad is.. bad? right? and the weight of their possible saddness is supposed to be motivation enough for me to live... but like... whos living for me? what do I get out of this exchange except a guilt trip and yet more suffering? like... if I have to stay alive for you and your shitty feelings help me! fucking. don't tell me to just not be sad. You don't get to tell me im a bad person for being tired of being alone and being in pain and suffering always, when you literally do nothing to help. or better! make me feel shitty for feeling that way in the first place? IM SORRY! I know it must be hard to be friends with someone like me. So then don't. I don't want you. Not if the price of having a 'friend' is to feel more alone. its easy to rationalise feeling alone when you are. It's harder to rationalise feeling this fucking desolate when you have people who call themselves your best friends. people who claim they fucking love you but at every turn go out of their fucking way to let you know you mean NOTHING to them. You dont get to dismiss me and tell me im just dramatic, and that my feelings dont matter just its 'just' my anixety and then turn around and cry that I dont talk to you anymore. Of course I don't. I'm not allowed to kill myself and you make that real fucking hard somethimes. it's so fucking unfair. All I want to do is reach out to someone because thats what you're told to do... but like.. who? The friend whos too far away? The brother who while I love with my whole heart.. I don't trust... The friends who tell me my being suicidal makes them sad..? the friends who know the signs of someone who is trying to kill themselves... and react to one friend doing the very same things... but with you it's just how you are. NO it's fucking not... I just want to die a lot. but im not fucking allowed so I just cut myself off so it hurts less when I'm sat crying at fucking 5 in the morning wishing I had fucking anyone I could reach out to. I don't want to die. Or at least most of the time I don't want to. kinda really do atm. like. a lot. i'm so fucking tired of this shit. so tired of everyone mattering more than me. I've always been this way so whats the big deal. someone elses hurt always bigger, more important... worse.. so shut up bryony. don't talk about yourself. your words aren't for you. you will die quietly after giving away every last drop of yourself. every slice. every peice of your soul. every last good thing sold to the greater good. because god forbid anyone ever feels as alone as this. Hurts this much. feels this alone. feels this fucked in the head. I will always be the lifeboat friend. drowning as I pull them to shore. my last breath will be to tell someone else it's okay. I am not to be an inconvinience. My trauma may have formed these pathways.. but every fucking person in my life reincorces them. There is no such thing as healthy boundaries when there is nothing left to protect. Somedays I hope the pain kills me. Something tagic.. but not my fault. I'm so tired. It really never will be good enough, will it?

Might kill myself for a laugh. I honestly can't do this anymore. I feel sick. I know they're mad at me. But i know they'll never see my side. Fuck. Fuck this.

my heart hurts I'm so tired I'm tired of being tired I'm so god damned tired How the fuck am I expected to live when my body is literally a minefield? how am I expected to live when my friends are shit at being my friends. It's my birthday. I want to have a nice day. I don't want to have to listen to you. hear about how great you are, how evil I am, how much of a bad friend I am. I'm so fucking tired. You dont get to make me the villain for being sad and then not understand why I'm distancing myself from you. thats not how this works fam. you pushed me away every single time you told me having anxiety is just attention seaking. or that being fat is distgusting. or that my ilness is just because im lazy. and that I eat wrong and live wrong. You dont get to tell me my depression is inconvinient and then get upset when I dont tell you shit. You dont get to respond to me not wanting to be touched with BUT I WANT A HUG :( and still think that any part of you actually cares about me.

this is the third? Fourth? year in a row you will make my birthday about you. and honestly? im so fucking over it. I would rather spend the whole day alone and sad than feeling lonely as shit while you guys talk and I'm left feeling alone on the sidelines. because it always happens. its my fucking birthday. buy me a fucking cake I want. if you want to hang out make plans. i dont want to make plans. I grew up in a very abusive household. All of my birthdays were planned for me until they just stopped being celebrated.

I miss Bee. I am so happy for them and I hope their new job goes amazing and I'm so proud of them for doing whats best for them but I miss them and I miss talking to them and cuddles and their fucking dog and just hanging out with them.

and im sad and lonely and I know im not ugly like. i know. but god what if no one ever loves me? im like hardwired to be loved. im so good at love. mostly because of all the trauma lmao. but like. please? let me love you? but like. not some rando. someone safe. someone nice. please love me.

#lmao when ur crying at 5 am and u suddenly realise how fuckin sad u actually are #hoo boy

It's actually ridiculous that after all this time his laugh still makes me feel like that. Why can't my stupid heart let go of him? Some below average noodle boy with emotional constipation? Why does he make my heart go doki doki still???? Fuck. Of all the dumb shit my brain and body pull. This. Is the worst. He never even liked me. He settled for charlie and fucking leila but not me. Which is fine. I get it. I just wish he wasn't so... him. A loveable asshole. Fuck.

I honest to god felt my heart skip a fucking beat. I thought that shit only happened in literature. Im not supposed to feel these things. Especially not for my ex-bestfriend.

I resign from existing. I decline. I dont want to anymore.

so my fucking shitlord of a body has added mind scrambling tinnitus into play now too. so not only can I not sit or lay down or walk for very long at a time. I now cant be in silence for longer than seconds without becoming overwhelmed with my own brain screaming, add in a semi constant mild headache and ya know general body pains and fucking depression and anxiety. and im have a real good fucking time. im so fucking tired. can I just get a break? just for a second?

Dear Blue Skys, It’s been 3650 days since the sun last shined, I keep seeing glimpses of it from behind the clouds, But it is always out of reach. It’s been almost 87600 hours since I last heard a sound, It’s like I’m stuck in a reverberation chamber, The same syllables going around, And around, and around. The weight of gravity is so heavy I can hardly bear it, But the gravity to not stand it at all is greater, Yet still the pounds get harder, And there is still yet to be a break. What earthly reasons are there to stay? When the black clouds dampen everything? What am I to the passage of time? But a casualty of loss?

#poetry #short poem #grieving #I miss you #for mum #Dear blue skys: Love Ramona

So, Work this one out for me. I want to die. So, I’m the bad guy? Ten years of pushing through and therapy and meds and fucking coping mechanisms. But I’M the bad guy?

My body hurts man. I’m so sick of being in pain I’m so sick of having a shitty brain I’m so sick So fucking sick But I’m the bad guy?

God. I have letters from the past 6 years in a box. Every promise I have ever made myself I stopped writing to other people years ago Every single one is a goodbye to myself A plea to stay alive A cry

I’m supposed to stay for the people who love me Im supposed to think of all the hearts I’ll break But who thinks of mine? Why is it selfish to not want to hurt anymore? I didn’t ask for this life I didn’t ask to be here and to always suffer All I ever seem to do is suffer. Where is my silver lining? Where is my unconditional love and support?

I’m tired of being everyones second choice I am no ones first, no ones best, no ones someone I am tired of feeling alone all the god damn time Of always losing I tried okay. I keep trying. I will keep trying. But every time I get here I think about how much harder it is to get out About how easy it is to stare into oblivion sometimes Somedays I imagine the nothingness I know awaits And all I can think about is how I want more time Otherdays it’s like that thought is a weighted blanket Smothering my whole being and bringing peace

I have never wanted to die to be dead As silly as that sounds I just want to stop hurting I dont want to exist I wish I could somehow live without the need to exist like a long nap

I know I’m difficult and no fun and hard to deal with I know it’s boring to listen to me talk about the ache in my soul and my bones I know it gets old that I’m PISSED that I finally managed to get over my childhood trauma only to get new trauma I know its old that I hate my job but don’t have choices I know it’s old to blame my brain I know I fucking know

Sometimes I wish I could scoop out my eyes or my brain or my fucking knees Sometimes I wish I could just Stop Stop caring. Stop being upset when people forget about me Stop being overwhelmed when they dont Stop wishing for dumb shit Stop wishing I were anywhere else but here People say it’s selfish to kill yourself Some call it attention-seeking Some call it cowardly Some say it brings shame They say to think of your loved ones

but why can’t they ever think of me? Why is everyone else’s problems always more important than mine? If I’m supposed to stay alive for these people Shouldn’t they also care about me? I give up anyway. I know I wont kill myself But god. Do I want to.

#my brother is excluded from this #he cares about me a lot and would be there for me if I was brave enough to tell him #this is more about #everyone else?#This shouldn't show up anywhere but just incase it does #suicide trigger warning #depression trigger warning

This is the furthest into a year I have made it without writing a ‘letter’, yet. Part of me is like “yay progress!” But another part of knows its not for lack of trying.

I’m so sad. a deep, gut wrenching, kind of sad. It’s not the same as depression. Or maybe it’s just not like my old depression? It’s softer? God I’m so sad I can hardly eat some days... But it’s not because I decided I don’t deserve to eat, or because my anxiety has made me feel so sick I can’t bring myself to... I just... don’t? I cry less too. This sadness is quiet. I hardly even noticed it. months went by before I realised “oh shit im sad”

I know it’s because of my illness. I know. But I can’t even find the words to describe how I feel? I’m in pain sure and that sucks, but I’ve always been in pain. I look back at the last 6 years and its all clouded with pain and before that was pain. I left school because of pain.

I know part of it is how god damn angry I am. It took me 8 years to get over the trauma of childhood. It took me four years of being away from toxic family to heal. And just as I was getting strong. Learning to love myself, accept myself, forgive myself and my past... my body just gave up??? So now I have to hold my shoulders carefully when I sleep and sit and walk with a bag so they don’t sublux? I have to train my muscles to hold my joints in place? because my body is a shitty effort of a human and falls apart so easy. And no not in a fun party trick way. Just in the “oh god that hurts” way. I’m so MAD. I try to make it fun. I try to not let it bother me. I try.

I have friends now who only know me as this person. The “less able” Sam. And it feels a lot like grief. Like, I have friends who knew me pre my mums death, and those friends though they know the trauma and watched me change still have the memory of the old Sam. And some part of me always feels like they are just waiting for her to come back. But I can’t be that person again any easier than I can go back to who I was before I started needing a walking stick.

Thats such a crazy thing for me. I’m 24 years old. My joints have hurt my whole life but this year I had to buy a walking stick. My 70 something year old grandfather who had a hip replacement only uses his sometimes! And sure so do I. But I’m supposed to be the tough one. I never used to cry when I got ear infections. I didn’t cry when I was told I shouldn’t swim anymore. I was always stronger than the boys, could always carry things further, run further. Got kicked by a horse? Horse step on your foot? Thrown off again? I was the tough one. I’m not supposed to be the weak one. I am not the type who can’t open cans because their god damn fingers are too bendy to get a good grip. Or can’t do up buttons because their wrists are too sore. I’m not supposed to need all kinds of braces to just keep my feet pointing in the right direction.

God I’m so fucking mad. I’m so fucking young. I had so much shit to get over. I had so much life I wanted to live. Now I have to consider a fucking disability first every time. And I can’t do shit to fight it. Sure I can do my fucking exercises. I can take painkillers and ‘think happy thoughts’. But the harsh truth is, my body is going to just keep getting worse and worse. Maybe I can buy myself 10 years of good quality life? But maybe not? And to do that I’d need to quit my job. But this job pays me better than I have hope of finding anywhere else. This job allows me to save 5 grand in a year. So I am left to choose living better or living safer. Money means security. The more I earn now, the safer I will be when my body gives in. Because who knows what benefits will be available in the future.

So yeah. This depression is different. my old depression was sadness for the sake of sadness. It was born from self hate and trauma. intangible concepts and longing. it was a different kind of hurt. I was a lot younger. Felt everything for the first time. Now I am much more weather-worn. This sadness is for a loss of self. It is for how tired I am. No longer just with living, but because of living. Of wanting to live. so badly to live. This sadness is the agony of being destined to feel pain alone. Pain is the most solitary condition. You can’t see it or describe it or give it or take it away, pain is to be alone. I am not lonely. I am not alone. But GOD is there a part of me that yearns. For SOMETHING. I don’t know what for, but my body screams that it will know when it finds it. So until then my chest just feels heavy? And the only word I have to describe how empty and hopeless I feel is sad?

I’m so sad.

sometimes I feel like I’m faking this whole “chronic pain” deal. Like I’ll have a good few days and be like “pfff am I even sick?” (usually still with some kind of brace on because the joints in my hands are a lie). And then I spend a few hours doing house chores or I go for a longer walk without strapping up my entire left leg and all of a sudden it’s like “ooooohhh right that pain. that’s the pain that apparently other people don’t feel”

I have a really weird relationship with my illness. On the one hand I have adapted really well to needing mobility aids and having to take various painkillers daily to cope. Especially considering it’s only really been a year since this started to widely affect my daily life. (untrue I have been using a knee brace for around 4 years and have been carrying painkillers with me everywhere for even longer (I just get better ones now))

But Because of the nature of hyper mobility spectrum disorders, I have been suffering the symptoms for far longer than I ever realized. When I was young I was taken to see a specialist because I told my mum my knees hurt so much it kept me awake at night. The doctor said of course, I had hyper mobility and was growing. Perfectly normal. So, seven or so year old me internalized that as “everyone feels this, this is fine”. So I never brought it up again. And what with almost going deaf with various ear infections I never thought much of it. I never thought much of the blinding pain I felt when I jumped from the swings. I figured thats just how ankles feel. I never questioned the pain in my bones. When my feet hurt so much I thought I was going to throw up, I figured no one else was complaining so it must be normal. It never occurred to me that they didn’t feel the same. When I was 15 I mentioned to a doctor my back hurt ALL the time. She said it was natural. So I figured everyone’s back hurt that much. Besides isn’t that a meme of our generation? (It wasn’t until this year after over ten years I realized the pain was because my hips sublux and shift their alignment) And after that I moved around a lot until I came to settle here. I didn’t see a doctor for about 4 years. And the first time I went to see a doctor about the pain in my bones was only two years ago. I’m lucky that although there have been some terrible doctors in this time like the guy who I went to see in September, when my body was in its worst flare up ever (I had NO IDEA what was happening at the time) and my right hand was fucked. (Looking back on it now I’m pretty fucking sure I had dislocated my wrist and at least two fingers but at the time I didn’t know that was a thing that could happen from washing dishes.) Who didn’t even LOOK at my wrist. Did not ask me a SINGLE question aside from if I could put my hand down flat on his desk (I could not even straighten out my fingers) And declared I had arthritis, prescribed me not a single painkiller and sent me for blood tests. And the lady who I saw post blood tests who told me the good news, not arthritis, but could not understand why that made me break down in floods of tears (because hey lady, if it’s not that then WHY THE FUCK DO I HURT ALL THE TIME?!!?!) And instead of talking to me wrote me a prescription that upset me even more. (I mean who tf thinks its a good idea to give a clearly upset person medication that says ANTIDEPRESSANTS on the label and not think to explain, “oh no I don’t think you’re mental and just need to calm down. This medication is more commonly used as pain relief now.”) I have also been lucky enough to be seen by a very kind EMT at my doctors office and a really lovely GP, who both referred me to a physiotherapist and my GP has me on a waiting list to see a rheumatologist.

Although it feels brand new, I have been fighting this for so much longer than I ever had words for. The only difference is that now I know what tools are available to me to help. And I know I am allowed to use them. I am not ashamed for needing a walking stick sometimes. And sometimes that makes me feel more fake. Because I read all the time about people and their struggle to accept their mobility aids. It’s only taken me 6 months of understanding to give in and adapt to taking mine with me everywhere. So maybe I am faking it. Maybe I don’t need it. Maybe im not as bad as I keep telling people I am.

Even though my life turned upside down last year with my illness. I still get that feeling that this is just how everyone feels. Even though my PT every time, reminds me its not. Even though my friends tell me it’s not. I’m still waiting for someone to point me out. “they’re not disabled!!!” Im still waiting to be called an attention seeker. I’m still not used to being aloud to be in pain. People get sick of hearing about pain. But I HAVE to talk about mine. When I reach my limits I have to say so or face my body’s consequences. I’m still getting used to that.

I guess what I’m saying is, I am getting better at looking after my body. But I struggle to allow myself to identify with this new life. I struggle with the word spoonie, even though it covers how I feel so well. I struggle with the word disabled, even when I am, less able. I know part of it is from not having a diagnosis. I know what I think it is... but for now I am just the same as everyone else. There could well be nothing wrong. They still have time to tell me it was all in my head. And that fills me with so much fear. so much dread.

#big ol rant/ string of consciousness under the cut #chronic pain #spoonie #idk I was doing house work and then had feelings #hypermobilty syndrome

I don’t know why I always get so irrationally mad whenever I see people say things like “don’t kill yourself!! uwu you’re loved ones will be sad!” Because I know that is true. I have lost people to suicide. And I do miss them. I am sad. But my sadness doesn’t outweigh theirs. For every ounce I am sad, how much more must theirs have been? And for every attempt I have made, have almost made how little those sentiments comforted or lessened my hopelessness. I don’t want to be made to feel guilty for wanting my life to end. If I could stop feeling this way, don't you think I would? I don’t want to be told about how sunrises and stargazing are worth living for when I can’t find the beauty in them anymore. I want to be told that I Will miss me I will live through a hundred shitty days, days filled with pain But those days will also have laughter and moments of light Remind me that those moments have value I always used to bargain with myself for more time Just until the weekend Just until summer Just until this new album comes out Just until payday I never used to buy myself clothes because I figured what I had would see me out Don’t tell me to stay alive for someone else Everyday I have stayed has been as a favour to myself Every suicide note I’ve ever written has been to myself I owe myself those good days I deserve to see how it all plays out And even though nothing is turning out how i hoped, and some days my chronic pain is so frustrating and ungodly I curse this life I am so glad for every time I chose to stay There is so much life I got to live Even if its just a walk with a friend Or someone reaching out and showing more kindness than I knew I was entitled to I would have missed that if I had died all those years ago I didn’t stay for my brother, though I do love him I didn’t stay for my best friend, though I do love her I am tired of being made to owe my life to the people I love I don’t owe them A thing. The only person I will owe my life to is me.

#sam loves a rant #tw suicide #depression #just a rant

Its not that I want to go out But i do not wish to be ‘in’ anymore

In my head In my thoughts

I grow so weary of my own company

Its not that I think this unfair But I do think I am unfair

My thoughts My mind

I am so weary of my own company

It is not that i don’t understand the gravity of the situation But I am constantly reminded of the weight of my mind

The anxieties The hurt

I am so weary in my own company

It is not that I miss going out But I do miss running away

From my thoughts From my mind

I am so deeply weary of my own company

#Poem #kinda?#ikd #i am sad and have had a headache for like 3 days #my fingers and elbows keeps dislocating #i am tired #and just want to wander around #go to work to see whos there #chat a while #and pretend im not as sad as i feel #but im stuck on my own #all alone with my asshole brain.

Oh to be acceptably mentally ill. You can have depression, sure! But just don't whine about it. You slept alll day and alll night You can't be tired. Oh, to be acceptably mentally ill. You can have depression, sure! But just don't be weird about it. No one wants to know how much easier dieing seems than living, Stop being such a selfish attention whore. Oh, to be acceptably mentally ill, You? Have depression? You're sure? Just dont talk about it here It makes your (insert family member here) uncomfortable. Can't you just do yoga or something? Oh, to be acceptably.... .... .... Everyone gets sad now and then, Thats no reason to treat you special Oh to be acceptably mentally ill, To fit into the box you left for me Into the parameters and parentheses set out for me Not to loud but not too quiet Dont seek attention but do seek help Dont talk about your struggles no one wants to hear about those But why wont you ever tell me when you get like this? Don't talk about wanting to die But don't die But if you dont then are you even really depressed? I bet you just want attention Do you eat enough fruit? You should go for a run No running from your thoughts does not count I dont care that some days you cant sleep a minute Last week you slept 14 hours straight You can't be tired. You dont do anything Theres no such thing as brain tired Soul tired Life tired Oh, to be acceptably mentally ill Would i feel better then?

Lately I feel like Im drowning I wake up some days more tired than i went to sleep I wake up some days in more pain than when I went to sleep A good nights rest A good days sleep A good morning A goodnight A sweet dream If I'm not drowning why is it so hard to breathe? If Im too young then why is this all happening to me? If it's going to be okay Is it going to be okay? Am I going to be okay? Lately I can't do all the things I used to. Can't hold my phone for hours Can't stand for hours Can't stand at all some days Cant walk to the kitchen some days Cant stop crying some days Some days it feels like someone is trying to carve new joints out of the old ones Taking my old bones and making them new I feel each pound of the hammer Every scrape of the chisel Lately I've been thinking about what point people start thinking of you as un-able At what point are you justified to say 'please help me' ? How visible does the pain have to be to be considered legitimate? My pain always used to just live in my brain Anxiety and depression and dissociation You cant poke those to see if I'd squirm Cant ask me to chart out of ten my pain today Because depression numbs and im not here today my brain somewhere far away where the anxiety and people wont find me I can rate this pain out of ten though I never used to think I was alowed I've had this pain all my life No one ever told me it wasn't normal So I never thought it was wrong Figured everyone struggles to fall asleep each night from the pain in their bones Figured everyones feet and back and hands hurt this much so we just dont talk about it But now i am talking about it And people say yeah I know what you mean i slept on my shoulder funny last week But i didn't sleep funny I didn't fall or slip or trip or lift something wrong or run too far or walk into a door All I did was wake up All I do is damage control Wrap up my wrists Strap up my knees Make sure two ice packs are always in the freezer Spend more money on first aid shit than you ever imagined possible in a week Fear brexit and the day when your meds arent free I can rate this pain out of ten I can rate my pain out of ten But without a diagnosis whos to say its not all in my head? Without a diagnosis whos to say im not making it up? Being dramatic? An attention seaking idiot? Lately it feels like im drowning

#So my joints hurt a lot and my physio was like #welp until you get a diagnosis idk what to do #and my doctors kept telling me physio was the answer #and blood tests were the answer #but its been a year and my body has gotten so much worse

I never could keep a diary. But I keep crying on the internet like it could save me. I think I was 12 the first time I made a blog to yell about my feelings with bad poetry. It was to impress a boy. Im 23 now. I'll be 24 soon. I spent so long convinced I wouldn't make it past 18 that this whole time feels like... You know in some video games after you die the game still plays? Like a ghost of you? Or like you keep going but none of it matters now because you have to go back to the last save and no matter how many times you go back it will always turn out the same? It feels like borrowed time. Someone else's life. I dont really remember who i was at 17. Or 16, or 15 or 19 or 20. I dont remember those birthdays or what i did or who i knew. This time of year never gets easier. I've probably cried more on tumblr during the month of october than most people could in a lifetime. But i grew up here. Posting to the void. The promise of no one noticing. Im starting to forget how i ever used to cope. And i miss her and miss her and miss her 13 year old me found comfort in tryinf to find the way out of the labyrinth. But now its ten years later and honestly? Fuck your labyrinth John Green. Maybe straight and fast is the only way out. Lord knows im suffering. I google my symptoms daily as if some fbi agent is gonna swoop in one day and be like "BITCH its gonna be okay" because i need someone to give a damm. Beyond my manager asking me if i have any family to take on my financial burden. Like. As if he could ever know this is the worst time of year to remind me im basically parentles. Like. As if he could know that this whole month is like, one whole pst trigger for me. Like. As if i have anyone left. Like. So I haven't learned how to cope without crying on the internet. But im older now. I have a job now. I haven't died yet... Yet.

#Ohohoho im having a really good day #bad pain day #bad life #just bad #depression #personal post #offt #why do i even tag this shit? Im the only person who follows me lmao

Today the test results came back negative a voice is telling me its a good thing I still walk out of the doctors office crying This year the ache in my heart hurt less It cost me a thousand pounds And 20 Wednesdays no less

I had a friend, I think of her as blue skies Because thats how I remember her warm, like the summer we spent together

My facebook profile picture turns ten this year Ten years This year Since I last remember smiling The last moment of joy that wasn’t overshadowed with a death wish Maybe it’s appropriate maybe one day I’ll find a picture I love more Maybe i’ll keep taking pictures But the test results keep coming back inconclusive So maybe I cant.

I dont know what to do.

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