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#depressing poem
fishbutafraidofwater · 2 hours ago
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This midnight I wrote a 24-line poem on my arm. was crying red.
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sitaloneinthedark · 3 hours ago
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Hmmm. Please don't. I do not recommend covering your eyes with glass. (No, I have no experience with that, no, glasses and contacts do not count). Some people just never sleeps and it shows (on me. And my sanity)
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upat4amwiththemoon · 4 hours ago
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Lucky star
I wished upon the lucky star,
Let me win the inside war.
It’s getting little too hard to bear,
All these thoughts that I continue to hear.
I looked at the lucky star,
Thinking what had gone wrong.
Was my wish not good enough,
It’s all getting way too much.
I cried under the lucky star,
This was exactly what I feared.
Now my eyes are closed for eternity,
Because of a stupid wish that failed me.
- me
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nopressursworld · 11 hours ago
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Change yourself
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Instead of appreciating what you have,
You are here staring in the abyss.
You are tied by the strings of habit,
Do you want to break yourself out of it?
Or you like it how it makes you feel helpless?
And you have others to blame for the mistakes that you have done.
Sometimes it's hard to recognise the person you have become,
Because you change yourself according to your needs.
How can I reason with you,
When you dismiss every thought which say otherwise.
Act like you are helpless,
But you are not.
Why let other define yourself,
Even the person you look up to said,
"If you want answers
Find them in yourself".
Note : when that certain somone going to read this, I am going to have too much on my plate.
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apatic-smile · 11 hours ago
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"Amo te o l'idea che ho di te ?"
Questa è una domanda che mi sono posta più volte durante la mia vita . E non si tratta di un pensiero banale , perché amare non è mai stato facile e non c'è una definizione esatta di ciò che amare significhi, comporti e tolga. Alcuni dicono che trovare una persona che si ama sia fantastico , un'esperienza indimenticabile, ma in che senso "indimenticabile" ? Di solito si ricordano in maniera indelebile due tipi di esperienze :
- le esperienze belle , che ti lasciano una sensazione di tenerezza mista a nostalgia.
- le esperienze traumatiche,che ti perseguitano per anni o per sempre e che ti ritornano in mente in maniera inaspettata ed improvvisa.
Ed allora a cosa si riferisce chi descrive l'amore come qualcosa di " indimenticabile" ?
La verità è che l'amore è qualcosa di soggettivo , qualcosa che desideri, brani ed assapori finché l'hai tra le mani , ma l'amore è come un bambino viziato; così come inaspettatamente ha deciso di giocare con te , altrettanto inaspettatamente si stancherà e deciderà di lasciarti andare , di abbandonarti. E come potersi divertire ancora di più ? Abbandonando il cuore solo di uno degli innamorati.
Ci sono tanti altri casi in cui l'amore ha preso strade diverse , ma senza dubbio l'amore ti lascia ferito , sanguinante ,ed allo stesso tempo sconvolto per la sua inarrestabile potenza.
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ezopezzo · 13 hours ago
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what they won't tell you
by zoe aaleah gabriel (*note: sparse coarse language used.) these are four things they won't tell you  about self-love, from a girl who is going through this exhausting trek:
number one.
it's really fucking hard.
how are you supposed to love the wounds you moulded into a monster?  dried splotches of blood is not pretty. 
i was taught to love pretty things.
number two:
it takes way too long.
there is constant turbulence.
there is no certainty that you will see the end.
number three.
it is not one, continuous event.
there will not be three hundred and sixty-five consecutive days in which  you are secure  in your skin. there will be months weeks days hours minutes seconds when you want to shred every single atom that has kept you standing, because, let's face it, loving is so hard.
number four.
it is the compounding of little things.
it is waking up in the morning and choosing to fall in love with the person you are.
it is saying "thank you" to the eyes that you see in the mirror, and looking past their hopeless aura... because that person has kept you alive when your mind did nothing but scream at you to let go.
in conclusion, these are the four things they won't tell you  about starting self-love: 1. its really fucking hard
but it is doable. 2. it takes way too long... but it took even longer for you to hate the person you've become.
change is bound to take time.
3. it is not one, continuous event, because you have to make sure that the turbulence doesn't last long.
you are piloting your own destiny.
4. it is the compounding of the good little things.
drink that glass of water.  eat that doughnut. look in the mirror and tell them you love them. thank your body for still standing with you.
self-love is really fucking scary.
but know that i will go through this journey with you.
- from the girl who is going through this extremely exhausting trek of loving herself.
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linsicase · 18 hours ago
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Her heart will always cry silently.
Never wanting others to hear her breaking,
Earsplitting sounds like the branches of a maple tree snapping,
All of the heartache internally drowning,
The weight of the dark winning by numbing,
She cracks a smile and nods her head in passing,
You’ll never know how much she’s suffering,
Poised as she is, she’s just acting.
-Linsi Case
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yltfos-os-kaeps · 18 hours ago
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Never thought I'd see the day I felt at ease
Never thought I'd find a way out the tumble weeds
Never thought I'd escape such chaotic times
Never thought I'd be happy again
Never thought I'd be fine
I always imagined laying myself to sleep
I always imagined only death would give me peace
I always imagined my life would never be splendid
Now, I'm grateful I didn't follow through and end it
-EM.
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page-60 · 22 hours ago
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3:06am Sunday, April 11th
Stress
I’m tired.
I want a break.
I need a break.
It’s not like last time.
It’s not tiredness from life.
I’m not suicidal.
It’s tiredness from my own head; my own self.
I don’t want a break in the sense I need people to see I’m struggling and help me.
I’m not hopeless. I’m not depressed.
I need a break in the sense that I need everyone to step away and the world to grow quiet; for my head to alow me silence for a few moments.
I am so very, extremely stressed.
I clench my jaw enough to feel my teeth crack.
I bite my cheek until I taste blood.
I have night-terror after night-terror.
I can’t get to sleep until it’s already morning.
I don’t even feel tired until the sun has already risen.
I am constantly exhausted.
I can’t do this anymore.
I don’t know how much more my body can take.
She said sometimes when people come out of depression their anxiety symptoms bubble up.
An un-dealt with problem finally surfacing.
It never stops.
“Let’s get your Bipolar episodes under control before we worry about treating your depression.”
Next it’s the depression and anxiety package.
Then it’s possible ADHD.
But maybe it’s Autism.
Or maybe both.
But what if I have C-PTSD?
But probably not. Right?
What if my BP is just a mask for Borderline Personality Disorder?
Probably not though.
Right?
Maybe I don’t fucking have any of these.
Maybe I’m just delusional.
But that’s mental illness too.
When does it end?
When do I get to know “Who I am”?
When do I get to know “What I have”?
When do I get to know how to help myself.
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anikasometimes · 22 hours ago
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Who knew that 'Night' watermarked with Stars and Heavenly Moon to relax the minds would result into anxious souls trying to figure out 'how to deal' with 'Daylight'
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iwishdeath · 22 hours ago
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It's like I can't drown out my own thoughts
Bang bang bang
They keep invading my mind like a plague
Bang bang bang
I wish I could beat them out of my head
Bang...... bang....... bang......
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iwishdeath · a day ago
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You can never really tell if someone is hurting
They can hurt so quietly.
They can cry so softly.
They can die without anyone caring....
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trystmm · a day ago
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To be honest, we say we are nobody to judge but we do judge anyway. And I think its a sick truth that the urges and anxiety behind doing that is with fierce intensities. Because all the wrong ones have the whole world begging for their existence while they cheat, lie and stab in the back of their admirers. And what do the good ones get? Is it wrong that we know we are good? Is it wrong to have pure and loyal intentions in todays world or its just the way it works nowadays or was it always like this ? Its really strange and wicked in its own way. I wish I could live my nightmares because reality is scarier and in your dreams you dont feel the hurt. You dont win here, you are pushed. Pushed until you admit you need love and compassion not criticism.
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non c'è la faccio, sono stanca, sono stanca del fatto che sia diventato un peso andare a scuola, sono stanca di andarci, sono stanca di dover nascondere i tagli, sono stanca di vomitare se mangio qualche calorica di troppo, sono stanca di odiare il mio corpo, di guardarmi allo specchio e provare schifo, stanca di passare le notti a piangere.
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