29S12E

I was fucking okay. I was so fucking okay for a while. I did well. I was able to take care of school, to take care of my life. I was feeling good. I was happy. I didn’t want to hurt myself. I liked my life, I liked myself.

……… until my meds stopped working.

So, here we go again with chronic insomnia. 

Fuck. Fucking fuck. I’m not sure if I can handle this again.

And I can’t get a doctors appointment ‘till two months from now ‘cause they’re so damn busy

do you fucking idiots realize that two months of that shit all over again, just weeks after I thought I was getting better, is way too long time for me to handle this by myself without a) going fucking insane and getting hallucinations and shit like that again and being seriously fucked up b) ending up dead

fuck. 

What a bittersweet feeling is it to burn your skin after a year of not killing butterflies

I’ve started to feel like giving up again

My parents are yelling at me for being sad ‘cause two of the most important people in my life tried to kill themselves. Another one is surely going to try again, other one had liver and brain damage and lost most of her emotional connections to people and some of her memories. 

”Anybody would be pissed of if they had to see someone frowning and crying at their house all the fucking week”

AND HE FUCKING KNOWS WHAT’S HAPPENED.

Also, that I’m depressed and most of the time I can just manage to hide it.

Gosh, I hate living here.

I’m not sure at all if I can take this.

There are four people who mean everything to me. The most important people in my life. Two of them wants to die. They’ve both tried to kill themselves more than ones in last couple of months. Other one of them tried to suicide yesterday.. she luckily failed. One of them is starting to have some kind of eating disorder. She’s obsessed with her weight and thinks she’s fat even though she’s skinny as a stick. One of them is fine most of the time, thank god. But… sdfghsdfgh.

I’m depressed and have anxiety myself. Oh, good luck surviving.

I feel things in a big way. When I’m sad, it qualifies as depression. When I’m happy I dance and I sing and I smile at strangers without realizing. I fall for people easily; it doesn’t take much to get me head over heals for someone. My feelings are huge, always. I’ve been wondering about how it is even possible. My dreams are big and I feel huge empathy for people I don’t even know. Making someone, anyone smile makes my day. But my feelings are like a roller coaster, I go up fast and I go up high, and then I fall down hard at the speed of light. Many times a day. And it’s just now that I’m realizing I’m actually totally okay with it. It’ll make my heart break uncountable times, but it’ll also make it easier for me to love and to be loved in return. It’ll make me sad, so incredibly, body-aching sad, but it also makes me smile uncontrollably when I see a kid blowing bubbles or when there’s a funny shaped cloud on the sky or when It’s raining at night and all the city lights look even prettier than normally. It makes me do impulsive decisions with unpredictable results. It’s far from safe but hey, I’ve always loved adventure. 

I’m being fucked up again.

none of you ever cared anyways ~ (:

I’m feeling pretty tired of existing.

just.. tired.

It’s scary how insomnia slowly turns into depression.

I want to do stuff and see people

but I just can’t make myself dress up, do my hair and get on the buss.

I just can’t make myself talk to my friends.

It’s too much effort.

Don’t you fucking dare give up on this.

I hate the fact I’m difficult as hell.

I always wonder when people will get enough and run away from me.

I’m always scared that they will.

You know the feeling when someone’s just so sad you don’t know what to say to them and all you want to do is hug them, hold them close without letting go, tell them everything is going to be alright and comfort them.. and they’re hundreds of miles away.

and all you can do is just feel bad for them and try to come up with something to say that would help? it sucks.