the road to hell is paved with good intentions @youpaved-theroadto-hell - Tumblr Blog

And then there’s that one thought, quiet but steady:

I could end it whenever I want.

I can’t overshare because that would be very humiliating but everyone else should overshare because I like to know everything

Right now, an ending feels like the only answer.

Not because I truly want everything to end, but because I can’t see past the weight of all of this. The fear, the exhaustion, the constant pressure of trying to hold everything together when I barely have the strength to hold myself together.

My mind keeps searching for an exit, for relief, for silence.

And that’s the terrifying part.

Not that I want to leave, but that I can’t imagine another way for things to stop hurting.

I’m tired. So tired.

#actually bpd #bpd #actually mentally ill #mental health #i should kms #tw sui ideation #tw unalive #tw depressing thoughts #dear diary #tw self destruction

mentally-ill-loser-rants

the way I can go from.normal to suicidal is crazy

youaremyiris

sometimes i wonder if i'll ever enjoy being alive

echoesofsaturn

I don't want my life to be a perpetual load of trying to recover from something after something and someone after someone. I don't want recovery to be all that I am.

fag

hey tumblr i’m sad

screenshotsofdespair

riotd

do you ever get the irresistible urge to bash your head against a brick wall

trainsandpaperplanes

I cannot justify still being alive

scramratz

After a while, clinical depression just gets annoying, bro. It's like shooing away house flies, but the house flies want you to kill yourself

nahimoffthis-deactivated2018091

90% of the time I just wanna go home.

I don’t want to die. I just don’t want to be here anymore.

There’s a difference, even if it doesn’t feel like one sometimes.

I’m tired of carrying everything. Tired of worrying. Tired of surviving one day just to do it all over again the next.

The weight of it all has become unbearable.

Financial stress. Fear. Loneliness. Uncertainty. It follows me everywhere.

Even in my own home, I can’t seem to find a place to rest.

I don’t want anything dramatic. I don’t want to hurt. I don’t want to fight. I just want silence. I want the constant pressure to stop.

I want one day where my chest doesn’t feel heavy and my mind doesn’t feel like it’s preparing for disaster. I want to exist without everything feeling so difficult.

Because right now, I am exhausted. And exhaustion has a way of making disappearance feel like peace.

I don’t want to die, do I?