i feel like i’m getting closer and closer to self harm. i don’t want to do it. i think it’s stupid. but sometimes it feels good to actually feel something. even if it’s pain.
the feeling of not feeling any thing, like you’re empty, cold, and hollow inside is a very familiar feeling.
i dont get how the word “depressed” just roll off other people’s tongue. when i say it i feel a knife stabbing my chest.
i wish i was more focused on a specific thing as a kid so that im actually good at something and passionate about it. but no, im not good at anything and im not interested in anything. it feels like my whole life is a big waste of space.
When I’m sad, I write. But nobody ever listens.
i want to save you because i cannot save myself anymore
i want to breath your name under your ear as i kiss your neck and your jaw
I used to be invulnerable to other people’s advice. I’d ignore them and try to figure out things on my own. I was never one for trusting what people say. I thought every word that came out of their mouths were some sort of manipulation. As I grew I learned when to pay attention to real things. When to learn from them and when to disregard them.
It is too late for any saving.
my friend asked me if I was still sad, I said no. not just because I didn’t want to talk about it, but also because I’ve learned how to live with it; treat it like it’s my shadow. because you don’t get better, you’ll always see it wherever you go, or whatever you do. It never goes away, you just get used to it.