I Take the Road Less Traveled by...


Just another girl with problems
INFJ, creative writer and lover of all things cute~
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Today I had a teacher tell me that a family member of theirs attempted suicide with pills.
I asked why he didn’t seem more concerned, and he replied with “people who attempt overdose are just attention seeking.”

Tell that to my grandma while she had to shower me for a month because I couldn’t stand after my overdose.

Tell that to my younger cousin who didn’t understand why I slept for three days straight.

Tell that to my bestfriend who saw me cry in every moment I was awake for two weeks after I swallowed those little pieces of hell.

Tell that to my brother who watched me vomit up everything I ate because my stomach was on fire.

Tell that to my teachers who watched me fail my exams because I was so dizzy and out of it I couldn’t stand, let alone concentrate.

Tell that to my mum, who watched me violently shake, sweat, convulse and cry in her arms because I didn’t want to be alive.

Go on, tell them it’s attention seeking. I dare you.

—(via sighbroken)

(Source: sighbroken, via scars-scars-scars-scars)

Have you ever been in love? Horrible isn’t it? It makes you so vulnerable. It opens your chest and it opens up your heart and it means that someone can get inside you and mess you up. You build up all these defenses, you build up a whole suit of armor, so that nothing can hurt you, then one stupid person, no different from any other stupid person, wanders into your stupid life…You give them a piece of you. They didn’t ask for it. They did something dumb one day, like kiss you or smile at you, and then your life isn’t your own anymore. Love takes hostages. It gets inside you. It eats you out and leaves you crying in the darkness, so simple a phrase like ‘maybe we should be just friends’ turns into a glass splinter working its way into your heart. It hurts. Not just in the imagination. Not just in the mind. It’s a soul-hurt, a real gets-inside-you-and-rips-you-apart pain. I hate love.
—Neil Gaiman, The Sandman, Vol. 9: The Kindly Ones

(Source: psych-facts)

flanecitoghei:

Who is that inside of me?

actualjainasolo:

darshanapathak:

Raise your hand if you’re straddling the line between crippling anxiety and not giving any fucks about anything

image

(via saigo-no-uta)

Being numb is the worse stage for me. When I’m I stare blankly into space for hours and my chest feels like it weighs a ton and my arms are itching to be opened but I’m too numb to move. To numb to care.
— (98/365) by (KJ)

(Source: kjpoems, via mercurial-spirit)

lindsaur-gor:

There needs to be a code word or something that means “my brain is fighting me every step of the way today and I feel like I’m going to vibrate out of my skin, so I need you to forgive everything and go slowly and speak softly and lower your expectations.” And then we could all just be like, “I know I said we could go to a movie tonight but… tangerines.” And the other person would nod and squeeze your elbow or rub your head and you wouldn’t feel like a failure.

(Source: krissyboarden, via cnnxt)

viria:

Let me pretend my story was not a tragedy.