Recovery never seems to be easy. One moment, you are feeling fine and the next moment, you feel like your whole world is crumbling down. Just as I thought, maybe I could, just maybe last more than 2 months being clean. It never seems to work out for me. Relapse happens again and again. Mental breakdown happens again and again. Trying to be happy yet it seems that I don't deserve it. ' If this carries on, you will only be more scars than skin, steph ' I tried and I am tired. I have no motivation to save myself anymore. All these thoughts are killing me, suffocating me, barely breathing. I am mentally exhausted by all these thoughts 'kill yourself, lie, smile, laugh more, be happy, death' Maybe one day, scissors will be for paper again. Maybe one day razors will be for shaving again. Maybe one day cutting will be arts and craft again. Maybe one day sadness will be temporary.
i wish it didn't hurt
i wish i didn't care
i wish i was happy
i wish i was pretty
i wish i was different
i wish i didn't exist
What a perfectly wasted good, clean wrist. - Disasterology, Pierce the Veil.
Sleep Coffee
Food cigarettes
Friends books
Life emptiness
" They promised that dreams can come true but forgot to mention that nightmares are dreams too"
"Last night i dreamt that somebody loved me. No hope, No harm, If it only was reality. "
No comments:
Post a Comment