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gay-dorito-dust · 2 years

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From previous ask:

Okay. So, basically, the reader struggles with s*lf h*rm. Except, Daemon has no idea. One day, he and the reader are horsing around the way buddies do, and he accidentally touches a scar. Daemon gets really upset and tries not to freak out because he really doesn’t want to lose the reader and ends up confessing his feelings for them in the process while trying to get them to see the beauty of life.

A/n: In light of suicide prevention month, this fic delves into topics such as of sh, depression, suicidal thoughts and self deprivation. Readers discretion is adviced. Do not read if sensitive to such topics.

Life brings great victory and great sorrow, no one was exempt from this notion, no matter how high their social positioning maybe; The rules applied to them as much as it did to any other of a differentiating social position. For you however it seemed that you bore the curse to walk away from one sorrow and into the next of a long line of sorrows that awaited you in later life to scar you in more ways then one. You tried to combat this overwhelming darkness within your chest that seemed to only tighten with each step you took, rendering you unable to get the required amount of air through your lungs as your throat tightened to a point it almost felt akin to constriction, through means that only the sharp end of a blade and the skin of your wrists -or other parts of your body that you could comfortably reach- have became well aquatinted in recent times.

You felt ashamed in resorting to such solutions yet you felt deep within your heart that this was the only way to properly cope with the dark cloud forming within your head, growing darker and stronger with each passing moment as it’s voice grew too loud to ignore. Mental health within the Seven kingdoms wasn’t taken as seriously as it should, often relegating it as a demonic possession which often lead to the wrongful deaths of many sufferers such as yourself. If you ever were to confine this information to a Maester in confidence, it would only be a matter of time before he claimed you an abomination to the faith of allowing demons to enter your body. Before demanding of the kind that you’d be sentenced to death under the pretence of being a danger to the throne and the kingdoms. To which you wouldn’t be surprised if King Viserys would agree to such terms as the longer he remained on the throne the less inclined he was to fight.

So instead you chose to suffer in silence with the demon as it took your voice and the voices of the people you’ve genuinely came to love to taunt you daily with your shortcomings, faulty relationships, your self value; right down to comparing you to people of your age who seemingly had their lives pieced together better then you did with your constant stumbling through life with no clear end in sight in due to thinking that you wouldn’t be alive as long as you did. Leaving you a lost, scared lamb in a society oversaw by wolves, dragons, lions and other predators who held the fates of you and the Seven Kingdoms in the palm of their hands; teetering on the edge of encasing their hands around it and crushing it to stardust. Tragedy may not have struck you -unless it did and you couldn’t remember the exact details due to the trauma it delt you mentally- yet you felt as though you have been hollowed out at a young age and left alone to deal with it’s repercussions with no kind hand to guide you that didn’t belong to death them self.

The voice within your head even went as far as to berate you for not going through with your initial plan of taking your own life; claiming the reasoning behind it was that you secretly enjoyed suffering so much that you were subconsciously willing to prolong it. Along with the fact that sorrow, misery and suffering were the only emotions you wanted to feel because they proved that you could still feel pain, feel hurt like humans do after believing you were less then one for so, so, long. It also reminded you of how easily manipulated, how easily broken you were by a few aptly choice words chosen by yourself because if you could think that way about yourself, who was to say that someone, somewhere in the Seven Kingdoms didn’t also share similar thoughts? It must hold some truth at the very least!

Yet your life’s only greatest victory was when Daemon Targaryen became your only friend; With the beat of a dragons wing, your dark thoughts seemed to momentarily relegate to that of a nullified humming, something more easily ignored in favour of his voice, his eyes and his platinum blonde hair that shone like the purest silver. You met whilst out in the forest where you were attempting to go through with taking your life; When he came onto the scene not too long after with a growing Caraxes gilding towards you with something within his mouth that looked like a dead rat the size of a cat or a cat the size of a baby rat. The details had became all too blurry to remember but by the end of the day it concluded with you walking out of that forest with a new friend. Whilst it didn’t subdue the demons within your head, it did give you something to live for -even if that wasn’t the most healthiest of outcomes for one as young as you were back then to come to- it was something that you could use to anchor yourself rather then be washed away. Sometimes that anchor wasn’t enough to stave off the thoughts for long unfortunately…

You’ve long since came to terms with the fact that you weren’t destined for a happy ending so you like to pretend that you were as you plucked some grass from the ground to sprinkle over Daemon’s unique hair whilst trying to stifle the grin that only seemed to stretch wider with each attempt. It was moments like this that you cherished within your heart, the moments where you were allowed to act like a kid in the presence of someone you loved so dearly that it physically pained you to see them smile the same way they did with you but within the presence of someone else who could also provide them happiness so effortlessly; while for you it began a struggle to find happiness in even the most mundane things never less in the things you once proved gifted in. Daemon opened his eye to peer at you with a smile of his own, resting his head further against the makeshift pillows that were his arms. “What’re you doing little minx?” He says, opening his other eye this time and pushing himself up onto his arms as he adjusted himself to get a better look at your guilty self. “Nothing you can’t prove my prince.” You replied cheekily, eyes locked on a stray blade of grass that somehow managed to proudly implant itself upright in the sea of Daemon’s platinum blonde locks.

“Nothing you claim,” Daemon began as he reached a hand to roughly where you were staring at so gleefully where he managed to pluck the upstanding blade of grass between his nimble fingers, bringing it to his face where his violet eyes shimmered with amusement, “then what do you call this.” He presented his evidence before your eyes, arm outstretched to it’s fullest length, “defend yourself for enacting such treacherous act upon your prince.” his voice was playful as he acted as the judge, jury and executioner while you the perpetrator on trial trying to convey their innocence. “The trees spoke to me in a dream that they’d shed their most beautiful leaves out of sympathy and to add something to spice up your bland hair.” It wasn’t uncommon for you to pretend to hate Daemons hair to gauge his reaction when in reality you admire it more then anything that would be categorise as precious, priceless or sought after. Daemon gasped dramatically, almost falling onto the broadside of his back at your seemingly scandalous claims, bringing a hand to his chest as his heart was sent a flutter at the sound of your laughter. The prince of House Targaryen was more then willing to act a fool within your presence if it were to bring about the very same smile upon your lips that he so craved to see day and night.

Daemon couldn’t help but prolong this moment as he stared at you while you smiled. The seven gods would be jealous of such a perfectly imperfect smile that you possessed. He felt lost in the moment with you and nothing could beat that feeling for him, not even the victory feats in his honour could alight his soul with such warmth as you could; He’d happily trade his sword to be at your hand and foot if it meant to bear witness firsthand to your holy smile and preach about it like it was gospel, like it was his entire faith come to life before him. To Daemon your smile was one that fables were written about, the reason the why bards sing so beautifully and the reason why myths and legends exist; to him, your smile meant everything and to loose it so suddenly…he wouldn’t know what to do…it would be like god had up and abandoned his creations without so much as a word to why. He would loose the only guiding light in his life that didn’t view him as much as a monster, as a parasitical plague as his brother did; he just couldn’t risk that reality coming to fruition and by the gods he would do everything within his power to prevent that from ever coming to pass. After all with Fire and Blood, everything would have to answer to the House Targaryen sooner or later if they wish to keep breathing new air through their lungs.

“Bland?!” Daemon screeches like a high maester being told his faith was fake, “how dare you bespoke such nonsense that you know naught of, little minx!” You squealed in surprise as Daemon made a grab at your wrist that you instinctively pulled away, making sure to grip the fabric of your sleeve with your fingertips as to prevent Daemon from seeing the art gallery of scars that littered your skin from the wrist upwards., suddenly insecure. Daemon however saw this as you being playful and in your moment of hesitation he managed to grab hold of your wrist the second time, squeezing a little too tightly for your liking as you yelped in pain, yanking you arm back forcefully this time from his hold as you cradled your arm against you chest to see that your newest addition to your scar gallery had already started to bleed a little through the sloppy bandages. Tears pricking your eyes but not from the singe of pain but more towards Daemon’s sudden silence to your reaction. This was the end, he was going to see you as a lost cause like everyone else did and leave you on the dirt road to die like you so desired it seemed; millions of possible outcomes to this situation were brought to the forefront of your mind that you didn’t have time to react when Daemon reached for your arm once again but in a more gentle approach. Holding onto your hand this time as he brought your arm to his gaze, fingers brushing against the smidge of bloodied bandages with a feather light gaze.

You swallowed thickly, feeling the fear trickle through your veins like ice, your resolve died on your tongue as you watched Daemon’s jaw clench and unclench in what you prayed to the Seven wasn’t anger aimed at you in any way shape or form whilst his brows furrowed, making his violet eyes take a darker shade of amethyst. “Daemon-“ “you deserve better.” His words cut your own short as you’d rated in him incredulously. “What are you-“ “I mean it,” he interrupts once more, “you deserve better y/n. Life has been cruel to the most beautiful soul I’ve ever seen. There are worse men out their who deserve death and yet here you are being tormented with their hell. I refuse to stand by and watch this unfair treatment continue.” Daemon proclaims as he brought you both to your feet where he took the opportunity to hold your face within his hands. “My angel, my light, my deity, my beloved, I am beyond the help of words in conveying my heartbreak at your mistreatment. By those who phased through your life before me but I promise you here and now beneath the Weirwood tree that I shall bestow before you only the most rewarding sceneries the Seven Kingdoms could ever provide. For you deserve only the best of what life can give, never the opposite.”

Tears fell from your eyes to kiss the skin of his thumbs that brushed away at the cluster of unshed tears at the corners of your eyes so gently you felt as though you could break apart within his hold right then and there but he didn’t allow you as he brought you to rest your weary head against his chest as his head pressed against yours. “You may not believe you are worth the basic level of kindness but I can assure you that you are worth that and so much more in comeuppance. The Seven should beg for your forgiveness, not you for you haven’t done nearly the qualified amount for such.” Daemon concluded as he pressed a kiss to your hair, lingering there to breath you in deeply as he held you insanely close to his body as though he feared you’d become like the sand and slip through his fingers. “Daemon,” you called out his name, “you aren’t disgusted by me…by…by this?” You asked of him as you lifted the sleeves of your shirt to show how far the bandages stretch, bearing your fragile soul for him to dictate whether to cherish it or be rid of it like everything else he looses interest in.

“Never,” Daemon responded without any hesitation, “if anything I find you to be the strongest, most powerful person because of this, your perseverance through the rough circumstances that even the boldest of men would break under. You are worth every ounce of heartbreak to me because to be loved by you is to be loved by an angel or being of higher power.” His voice was soft as silk again your ears as you buried your head into his neck, not wanting him to see the state you were in but didn’t fight against him when he pulled only the slightest away to rest his forehead against your own. “You are my dragonfire y/n, you are my source of power. Allow me into your heart and I shall prove to you that these riverbanks and theses landscapes are more then stories speak of them to be.” Daemon stops himself to pick up your arm and press soft kisses against the bandages where he presumed your scars -both old and new- were all the while staring into your eyes before pulling away. “Allow me to show you that every riverbank, every landscape, ever forest is more then the hindered beauty stories write them out to be as to me with you there, you’ll inspire them to become their truest forms for it is impossible to outshine a battle torn star such as yourself. I want to see every scenery I take you to reflected within your eyes for them would I know that your soul is on the mend.”

“Do you really mean that Daemon, do you truly wish to be my sworn sword and never leave me all on my lonesome?” You asked, desperate to hear his answer that came in a sequence of actions as Daemon brought his hand to the back of your head, drawing in you even nearer as his breath brushed against the apples of your cheeks, “forever and all ways my beloved.” He confessed before leaning in to implement a chaste kiss upon your lips, a vow consummated beneath the bleeding eyes of the Weirwood tree.

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bnha-more-like-bnh-gay · 1 year

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Bnha characters as mental health memes I have saved to my phone part 4 >:D

Tw: mentions of su!c!d3

Izuku:

TW: MENTIONS OF SELF HARM

Izuku, overworking himself:

Shouto, koda, toga, or shiggy:

Shouto, before and shortly after the sports festival:

Shouto: spiting my father

Shouto: disrespecting authority figures

Honestly? Mic:

Dabi:

Tokoyami:

Please talk to me about ghost files

Izuku:

Uraraka, Shouto, and Mina:

Izuku, kiri, and toga:

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3amclothesmonster · 10 months

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Vent TW's listed below in tags.

No aunt, I'm not faking autism and ADHD. No, I can't sleep because I'm not getting enough energy out it's because I have insomnia.

No aunt, Your own husband didn't strangle me cause we were wrestling, I was fucking eight and he almost killed me. No, he didn't accidentally touch me. He doesn't see me as his nephew he sees me as a toy. HE DIDN'T FUCKING ALMOST ACCIDENTALLY BREAK MY ARM.

Stop making up fucking excuses. You're no ally if you say straight up homophobic shit. You say you'll support but hate the idea of seeing me as a boy. You constantly gaslight and play victim. Blaming your own trauma on the things you do. Yes I get that your parents weren't the best but that doesn't give you a fucking excuse to treat me like I'm some object.

You act like self harm and suicide are something that people do for attention and didn't even care when I told you I needed help.

IT WASN'T MY FUCKING PERIOD IT WAS ACTUAL DAMN DEPRESSION

Thanks for causing my issues Aunt and Uncle.

#TW: Mentions of SA #TW: Abuse #TW: Homophobia #TW: Transphobia #TW: Mentions of self harm #TW: Mentions of suicide #Vent #I can even escape them cause they're my legal guardians #I'll probably delete this later if I remember

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perpetualproductions · 3 months

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Oh Anna by Mother Mother causally giving Marie Moreau Vibes...

All in the lyrics, dude.

(tw: mentions of self harm and attempted suicide along with similar themes)

#marie moreau #gen v #genv #marie moreau headcannon #marie moreau music headcannon #and her sister's name is Annabeth #it just fits #tw: mentions of self harm #tw: blood #tw: mentions of suicide #Spotify

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levixthxn-thegirl · 2 years

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TW: mentions of self harm and religion down below

Ambrosine having the job of an exorcist doesn't really go away when she gains her place and titles as a prince of Hell. If anything, her methodology changes to better suit her employment of her Leviathan abilities.

She never wanted to give up the job, not wanting abandoned what gave her purpose when the possession left her a empty version of herself, nor waste her talents when people can still be helped by them. She couldn't allow anyone to go through what she did. So rather, she made adjustments to the process.

Rather than a traditional catholic rosary, Ambrosine made her own to serve in its place. The beads are glass, with pendants being a different color than the rest. The center is a pendant of a sea serpent baring resemblance to Leviathan's original form. The crucifix instead is an old large iron nail with the same sigils and text that can be found on the Dagger of Apophis carved on the sides. The purpose for that is to be able to cut into her skin, primarily her palms, so that she can use the Leviathan ichor in the ritual. The use of the ichor is to be administered to the possessed, and using a part of Leviathan's soul to overpower the possessing spirit or demon and drive it out. This is only used, however, as a last resort.

#about the muse #the young leviathan #tw: mentions of bodily harm #tw: self harm #tw: mentions of self harm #tw: religious themes #tw: catholicism

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starlightseraph · 4 months

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house md will always be remebered as the most insane thing ever broadcast because of how unabashedly feral everyone involved was.

a short collection of things that happen on the show, just off the top of my head, not even scratching the surface:

- house shoots a random dead body in the morgue and then sticks him in an mri machine, which pulls the bullet out of the dead guy’s head and destroys the machine, costing the hospital millions

- foreman gets bitten by a person with rabies

- chase kills an african dictator

- cameron steals drugs from a patient after possibly getting hiv from said patient

- house induces a migraine and then takes a drug made by his arch nemesis (who he’s been stalking for 25 years) to get the drug taken off the market. he then takes lsd (in the hospital, in the middle of a case) to cure the migraine.

- chase goes into anaphylaxis after doing body shots

- house stops an elevator so he can perform a cavity (vaginal) search on a teenage heart transplant patient who’s in cardiorespiratory arrest

- they give a neurosurgeon mushrooms to cure his food poisoning, then they stick him in an operating room. the neurosurgeon strips in front of a health board assessor.

- kutner dies for gay marriage

- house sets an autopsy room on fire while trying to juggle flaming bottles

- house gets recruited by the cia

- taub gets held at gun point after diagnosing a stripper with skin cancer

- in almost every single episode, the team breaks into multiple houses

- house fakes terminal brain cancer so he can get drugs implanted directly into the pleasure centre of his brain

- house cons us immigration to get his fake wife a green card. he also uses his fake wife’s ukrainian food truck to spy on people

- house tries to get wilson, his closet case boybestfriend, into bed every few episodes. every other sentence out of house’s mouth is about wanting to rail wilson.

- taub has a kid with his ex-wife, after they divorce, at the same time he has a kid with his 25 yo side piece. the kids’ names are sophie and sophia.

- house and wilson have a bet on who can hide a chicken in the hospital the longest without anyone finding out

- house tries to kill himself like 6 times and always fails (insulin shock, overdoses, electrocution, jumping off a building, cutting, etc)

- house fakes his death to get out of a prison sentence after violating his parole so he can live out his bi love story with his gay best friend who has 5 months to live

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avalonianartisan · 1 year

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I got bored and decided I'd write a random essay in an hour to see if I still had it in me. Haven't actually written an essay in years

Trigger and Content Warning: This essay dives into eating disorders, fatphobia, mental illness, self-harm, and systemic medical malpractice. I'm also including the poem from the end, which partially uses the End Poem by Julian Gough ---

Your body is not you

Your body is a vessel for the stars

A vessel for life

For happiness

and for sorrow

Your body is not you

Your body is the creature that holds you

The only form of you we can touch

Regardless of your size, your weight, your age

The only form of you we can hold

and praise

and protect

Look up at the stars

Because you are loved

#diet culture #tw: eating disorders #tw: fatphobia #tw: medical #tw: mental illness #tw: self destruction #tw: sh #tw: mentions of self harm #caykes chaos

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storystartsanew · 1 year

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Solo Para: The Phone Call

TW: Mentions of Self Harm

Avalon jumps when her phone starts ringing. The screen lights up with the dreaded name she doesn’t want to hear from. ‘Dad’. She debates just not answering, but that seems worse in the long run. Taking a deep breath, she picks up the phone and slides her thumb across the accept button.

“Hi, Dad. What’s up?” She says as she puts it up to her ear.

“I saw your new post on InstaRoyal. New hair?” Her dad sounds tense, it sets Avalon on edge. She’d known this was coming, but it still scares her.

Avalon takes a deep breath. “Yeah, I thought it was time for a change.”

“Sweetie, we talked about this.” The conversations play through her mind. The incessant need to be the perfect family drilled into her.

She takes a deep breath and keeps her voice even. “It’s just hair dye, dad. I’m nineteen. I think it’s okay if a nineteen year old princess dyes her hair once in her life.”

“You need to be respectable, Avalon,” he snaps.

“And I am.” Her voice tightens, but she takes a breath and puts a lid on her anger. “I had it done really well, and I’m going to take care of it so that it doesn’t fade weird.”

“What on earth possessed you to do it in the first place?”

Avalon shrugs, even though she knows he can’t see her. “It’s just been really stressful lately. I thought it would be something fun to do.”

Her father sighs loudly. “There had to be less permanent stress relief options.” She finally snaps, her anger bubbling over. “I could always cut myself. See if that gets your attention.”

“Avalon!”

“What? That’s what Holly did! Or did you not notice that either.” There’s a moment of silence on the phone before he responds, with a formulaic excuse he’s given countless times. “Your sister has serious mental health issues that she chooses not to address. You should not be following in her example.”

Avalon scoffs. “Are you telling me I’m not allowed to have serious mental health issues, Dad?”

“No, that’s not-”

“Holly’s issues are a direct result of your shitty parenting, Dad.” She’s on a roll now. It all comes tumbling out. “And so are mine. You’ve spent so long trying to make sure you had the perfect family, you never stopped to realize you fucked us all up in the process.”

Silence fills the air once more before her mother’s voice answers, “Avalon Miriam Ericsdottir, you will not speak to your father like this!”

Avalon laughs sarcastically. “I will speak to him however I damn well please. I am a grown adult. If you two can’t hear the truth, that’s on you.”

Her father’s voice comes back on the line. Of course, her mother ran instead of seeing the truth. “We never should’ve let Oakley transfer out there. He’s a bad influence on you too.”

She rolls her eyes and laughs. “Oakley? You really will just blame everything on us before you take an ounce of responsibility. I have green hair now, Dad. Deal with it.”

She hangs up the phone before he can get out another word. There will be hell to pay for this, but it’s worth it. Freedom comes at the price of her parent’s approval. She’s slowly learning to accept that fact. This is just the first step.

#perfection is the only answer: avalon ericsdottir #tw: mentions of self harm

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justflesh54 · 4 months

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its my body surely i have the right to harm it if i wish ???

#actually bpd #cvtaddict #self h@rm #self mutalition #slef harm #tw self destructive behavior #sh mention #styroblr #hitting styro #cutt1ng #chronically ill #i want to cvt

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bat-revival · 2 years

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So, I've never really done something like this before but I really have the urge to just scream into the void and I don't want to keep using my boyfriend and my friends as emotional dumpsters. So please, feel free to just ignore this.

It's stupid really, because everything I'm feeling right now was triggered by a stupid teenage coming of age series with a stupid love triangle where the girl ends up with the wrong guy (imho).

So, it's late over here, it's nearly 3 am and everything hurts. My life is deeply unsatisfying as it is (this doesn't apply to my boyfriend, he's great and I love him very much and he's my rock and lifeline but I also don't want to burden him too much with my baggage) with uni and me trying to figure out what to do next, but also with the climate crisis, the rise of nationalism and fascism and war right around the corner. I know these are things everyone's struggling with and I'm not alone with these fears and uncertainties.

It's just... I fail at doing the simplest tasks. I can't concentrate and it takes me a million years to do the shortest uni assignments, if I can actually get myself to start in the first place.

I feel like I'm constantly disappointing everyone. For example, i have a deep fear of driving cars (my driving teacher was a huge asshole who made me feel stupid, small and insecure behind the wheel and it kinda stuck) and my bf and I had to drive a lot this past month (and I mean A LOT- our hometown is 4 hours away by car). My bf usually drives because he enjoys it and he won't really let me drive because I once had a panic attack behind the wheel while he was there. But now we had a fight because I don't drive but at the same time he won't let me. So yesterday I put my foot down and insisted on driving for a few hours and it was alright I guess, I mean I CAN drive, but it was so fucking hard for me to concentrate, my mind was constantly wandering and I couldn't do shit about it which was really fucking scary and staying focused was exhausting. It was super shameful because driving feels like such a simple adult task yet I'm failing at it and when I had finally parked the car I couldn't even be proud for driving despite my fears.

And this seems to apply to every aspect of my life. Being afraid and insecure, trying hard to focus, doing alright but under so much Stress that it's just a horrible experience anyway.

I have a lot of friends but I don't really feel close to them. And it's my fault, I try to keep a little distance because I tend to like them a lot more than they me and it always hurts to have that realization. It's happened a lot, in fact it happened last just before my birthday in June. It's also hard for me to keep contact with people via social media, I guess that's why people always like me less. It makes confiding in people harder ,too.

The fact that I'm dealing with depression and anxiety since I was fifteen doesn't really help the overall situation and I constantly need to consume media to drown out the noise in my head, which in turn doesn't help my concentration problem. I used to self harm a lot, but I stopped after my current bf begged me to. Now I haven't done anything physical for three and a half years but my fingers are always itching and I can't even buy this fancy skin friendly razor because it needs "real" blades and I can't trust myself around them because I constantly feel a *need*. I watch my scars closely and they're starting to fade which lead to another panic attack because i kind of need to see my scars to know that everything was and is still very real and that I'm not making it all up.

I haven't actively thought about killing myself for 9 years now, so that's good I guess. but I also just really really don't want to live.

I also recently had covid for the first time and it really took a toll on my lungs and I have a few breathing problems. They're getting better ,sure, but right now, I haven't been able to excercise for 5 weeks. Normally, I excercise 4 to 5 times a week. And all this sitting around is driving me insane. I want to run and I want to scream, i want to lift heavy stuff and feel in control for once. my skin crawls and itches and I can't let it out.

On top of everything, my grandma died very suddenly three weeks ago. There was a sudden and unexplainable bleeding in her head that damaged the entire brain, they didn't even try surgery because she was gone immediately. I mean, her body lived, but she was gone. I had talked to her around noon on the same day and everything was fine and not even 6 hours later she collapsed.

We were very close and I miss her so much. She was such a guiding light and inspiration for me, I'll never meet anyone like her again. Life without her seems impossible and unreal , yet time keeps flying. June in general lasted for 20 years and July isn't looking much better.

I'm so tired, I just want to sleep, but I can't. I feel so stuck and nothing makes sense and I just don't want to live this life anymore.

And now, this girl chose the wrong guy and I simply burst into tears. It's so stupid and I can't even explain myself but everything came to the surface and I'm just trying to beat my feelings with a stick so that they'll go into hiding again.

I miss life. I miss being excited. I miss looking forward to things. I miss waking up without immediately worrying.

Ugh alright, thank you tumblr for letting me rant. I know this is a downer and I hope people don't read this and feel sad. I just needed a place to put all this. Half of this might not even make sense and I'm sure I have forgotten a few things but I don't think that's important, because I actually feel better now. Sigh. Maybe I do need a therapist again.

#rambling #just ignore this #tw: mentions of self harm #tw: mentions of suicidal thoughts

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