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support · 7 years ago
Everything Okay?
If you or someone you know is struggling, you are not alone. There are many support services that are here to help. 
If you are located in the United States, consider reaching out to the National Alliance on Mental Illness HelpLine.
If you are located in the United Kingdom, The Mix is here to help you with any challenge you are facing.  Reach out online, on social or through their free and confidential helpline.
If you are reading this from in any other country in Europe,  Mental Health Europe has compiled a list of helplines and other resources in your country. 
For more resources, please visit our Counseling & Prevention Resources page for a list of services that may be able to help.
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elizabethanism · 3 minutes ago
Oh Yes
there are worse things than
being alone
but it often takes decades
to realize this
and most often
when you do
it's too late
and there's nothing worse
too late.
C. Bukowski
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secretsandfracturedsouls · 10 minutes ago
나는 사람들이 이해하고 싶어하는 것만 이해한다는 것을 깨달았기 때문에 나는 자신을 더 이상 설명하지 않는다.
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bluechocolatecloud · 56 minutes ago
"I wish I had someone to hold on to. To take their hand and let it be the one thing that keeps you on the ground, instead of sinking in and being taken by the earth to disappear like flowers do when fall comes around the corner. I wish I had someone to hold on to. To be held also so that they never would have to realize that you have vanished because they didn't let you. I wish I had someone to hold on to. To not have to feel the loneliness eat you up from the hole inside of you since they have filled it with all of their warmth and love and just by letting you hold on to."
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saf-of-the-silk-road · an hour ago
Let me tell you a Story;
The story of a lone traveler.
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"I met a man once, resting on the south side of the Evros River ten years ago, his face was emaciated and his entire body cloaked in a dark robe hiding his features and nature...caution told me to steer away from such strange individual but travel weariness and the sight of his eyes told me to sit beside him and quench my thirst with the waters of the cold river.
His name never occurred to me...nor that I asked him anyway...but he seemed to know me.
To know my name, my life story, where I was born and where I came from.
We didn't talk at first, four feet away from each other but when I felt his gaze upon me I turned mine to examine him better from my position.
<<Saf the Wanderer, from the Near East, collector of stories, man of no are far away from home...really far...>> said the Figure, leaving me speechless for what could have been entire minutes before talking back to me <<Your life has been short but full of loved and've been amazed and horrified by the world and its have stories to last a lifetime but you keep walking and you will until you die...but why?...why do you keep travelling?>>
I was scared, I wasn't famous, I never was in the employ of any lord, anything other of a wandering scribe but how did he know me?
I dried my lips, wet from the fresh water of the river in front of us and tried to respond the man beside me.
<<Because the world has still a lot to offer and would be stupid to pretend to have seen it all.
I know that I will die on the road eventually forgotten by everyone but at le->>
The man stopped me mid sentence and completed it on his own as I would have done.
<<At least you would have been true to yourself and your decisions, yes, but we both know this is a lie.>>
Silence descended between us for some time after which he returned to utter words that made my heart beat in anxiety and fear.
<<You are not walking, Saf, you are running, running away from yourself and the past.
An overbearing mother, an absent minded religious father and a sequence of bad love related memories.
You fled from home, you didn't embark on a journey to collect stories...that just came afterwards my child.
You just keep running and running and running...but you will die running or the world will end before you do..>>
I just kept silence after that, this man wasn't a human being and my dread kept rising with the passing of the seconds.
I hoped it was just a dream but it wasn't and I had no strength to rise and go away.
He just kept talking but his motives eluded me.
<<You prefer hate and loneliness and an idealized world to the demons and the pain behind you.
You are incapable and unwilling to be loved and love as a normal human being because you are afraid of hurting yourself.
You are just a ghost, Saf, even if you breathe, even if you are made of flesh, bones, blood and sinew.
People won't remember you...even if you are ok with that.>>
In that moment the man rose and looked directly into my eyes, I had no strenght left to even breathe anymore.
<<Trust, Saf, trust someone in your life, trust them to make you happy and be trustworthy enough to make them happy, life is short and soon we will meet again... and when we will be too late to do anything about it my is not poisonous...hate and anger are...even if you are too broken to understand that...>>
I tried to stop him from going away, I had so many questions but no matter how hard I tried to get up or scream for him to stay no muscle moved and no word came out of my mouth.
Sadness tore my chest open and stabbed me in the it many times did before...
I raised from the ground after five minutes when of the man was left no trace but a painful memory in the back of my head.
I had to leave, one last time, one last time to understand what went on, to find peace of my mind.
One last time, I swear.
[The Story of a Wanderer, The End..?]
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four-eyed-frog · 2 hours ago
After all these months, I tell myself, if these feelings were true, the hurt I experience, will unfortunately never go. They will continue as onslaughts of heavy waves trying to break the earth it meets. Sometimes as a soft and melodic song, yet melancholic and at times as devastating as a tsunami.
The good news is, I continue to develop defence mechanisms to fend it. I learn to enjoy it and cherish, that in a place of hopelessness I had found one person who once made my life magic!
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dollyave · 3 hours ago
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Some days like tonight I am overwhelmed with loneliness. Darkness clouds my thinking. I have a desire to fit in but I feel like a fraud. They can all see that I stand out. What if I dull my shine a bit more to blend in, maybe I’ll feel together. But I do not. No matter how many times I try to morph into another her, she cannot glow any less. I will have to accept this.
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The most isolating experience is sharing that loneliness with silence.
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brokenmusicboxwolfe · 8 hours ago
Today I spent hours hacking away at the brush by the highway that’s sprouted out to block my view. I really hate this job. 
It’s a pain, often literally (today I even got conked on the head by a limb I’d just cut) and twice in the past I’ve almost been killed (once a narrow miss of a flying wheel from an 18 wheeler and another when workers decided to cut along there for the first time in years and didn’t see me. I suck up so much exhaust from all the traffic my lungs ache.  At best I end up really sore and feel frustrated by how quickly it will all grow back anyway.
 I cut and cut and cut. Traffic races by, the Mini Mart across the highway constantly has heavy business, and I cut alone. A group on motorcyles listen to music loud enough to hear over their engines, and when they park it hurts my ears. The smell of laundry from the laundry mat and gas from the pumps drifts across the four lane road. Briars tear at my skin and leaves fill my hair, and some folks across the way watch a bit before roaring off, back towards wherever they were going...
At least they were going somewhere. 
I really hate these cutting along the road days.
Weirdest thing about today was that I was actually happy for a moment over something so stupidly minor it seems it should be forgetable: 
As I cut someone that  had been at the Mini Mart drove by, honking their horn and waving. 
That’s it. I don’t even know who they were. And yet I felt better for it.
I think it boils down to the fact I was being acknowledged. 
Normally all my work, no matter what it is or where I do it, isn’t noticed. Or rather, if it’s in public may gawk at me, but they don’t interact at all. No one speaks to me, and some don’t even wave back when I wave. Nothing I do matters to anyone but me, except for the occasional gossip and grumbles of course. 
I can say I’m used to it, but down deep I want acknowledgement. I don’t ask for too much, certainly not praise, and not even a “Good job”. Maybe what I want is  a little smile and nod or a joke about how tiring what I’m doing looks. 
Politeness, friendliness, a momentary flash of caring. I dunno. 
I guess want my struggles to be seen as a fellow human struggling, and not mere entertainment or annoyance for a passerby. 
Funny how a honked car horn and a wave from someone accelerating away, just a fraction of a second of mattering to someone, can  make me feel better. 
Of course, I’m still going to be sore tomorrow! LOL
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i-am-darth-feanor · 11 hours ago
Trigger warnings: d//th (e, a), c/nc/r (a,e; not explicitly mentioned), t/m/r (u,o) ch/ldr/n (i, e), f/m/ly (a,i)
You left an empty half on the bed.
An empty chair at the table.
A void in my heart.
Whenever our youngest runs up to me and asks where Mama is, I cannot look him in the eye.
Whenever I sleep at night, I miss your warmth beside me.
Whenever I make dinner, I forget to make it for four, not five.
With every waking moment, my heart aches for you.
Our house used to be alive with the sound of your laughter, your singing as your braided our daughters' hair. But now all is silent, and none of us can laugh anymore. Our daughters go to school disheveled and crying and our son wonders why none of them will tell him where Mama is.
Our garden used to thrive with life- fragrant in the spring, green in the summer, bountiful in the fall. Now nothing grows there but weeds, choking the life out of the tender green shoots that you planted before they found your tumor.
I know that you must be in a better place now, my love, but I cannot help but wish that you were back with me.
Your ghost haunts me, but I cannot feel your touch, cannot hear your laughter. Oh, how I long to hold you in my arms again...
It has been fifteen years since I lost you, my dearest, and I cannot stop thinking of you.
Yesterday would've been your birthday. Do you remember the time when I surprised you with a party, all those days ago?
Fifteen years have passed, fifteen long years. Liam, our youngest, is eighteen now. I wish you could see him as an adult, my love. He is quiet now, so quiet...
Angelina, our oldest, is twenty-nine now. Twenty-nine! Oh, my love, you're a grandmother. Didn't you always want grandchildren?
Last week, her little daughter asked why she had two grandfathers but only one grandmother. How my heart hurt to think of you...
Sometimes, I feel like your ghost is following me, guiding me. That you're my guardian angel. Do you remember when we first met, and I used the classic pick-up line and told you that you'd fallen from heaven? Oh, what I'd give to be living back then, young and carefree, with our whole lives ahead of us...
My hair is threaded with grey now, and I cannot help but remember when we pledged to stay with each other until our heads were white and our skin wrinkled. Do you remember? We were only seventeen.
Yesterday, I was cleaning out the old attic and I found your wedding dress. You looked so radiant on that day, like an angel come down to heaven. You made me the happiest man on earth, my love, and now you have made me the most sorrowful.
I want to ask you to come back. I want to ask you to return to me, to let me hold you one last time, feel your lips against mine, but I cannot, for you are beyond the reach of all mortals.
Everything I go, everywhere I go, everyone that I meet reminds me of you.
Of my loss.
I can only pray to join you soon.
Author’s Note: Don’t ask why I wrote this... I felt sad last night, okay? And yes, I’m crying.
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spirituarium · 11 hours ago
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Alone again, looking for some place to hide and heal.
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laini-caine · 13 hours ago
[Today] being here with me
I just want to say thank you to everyone who is here reading as I write, while I lose my shit. One day the words you read maybe my last. Thank you for all supporting me, no matter your reasons. Don’t feel guilty about anything. I’m glad whatever the reason you decided to read. Because of everyone who reads as soon as I post… I feel a little less lonely. Nothing can make up for real interaction…
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fanficsandfluff · 17 hours ago
i'm at the point where i can start fantasizing about who my imaginary co-workers would be in the school i work in
someone save me from adult life, i do not like it
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somecreatureguy · 18 hours ago
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