I Realized Today That I Have Stopped Living Life. I’m Literally Just Trying To Get To The Next Day,

everyone keeps telling me that i have to stay alive for them, that killing myself would be selfish because they need me and my departure would cause them great pain.

what about MY pain? what about ME? i’m dying inside, falling apart every single night and shoving back my broken pieces inside my chest every morning, bleeding internally. what about MY pain? why can’t i rest easy? isn’t it selfish for you to ask me to stay knowing how badly i’m hurting?

Things no one tells you about when you’ve been mentally ill for years and it won’t get better

— everyone will give up on you. Some will say it upfront, some will have indirect ways of showing it (you’re a lucky mf if you still have someone )

— your symptoms/ breakdowns/ panic attacks are cute for a few months. Everyone wants to help. Later on people find them annoying and inconvenient

— you will be blamed for not getting better. Doesn’t matter if you’re doing therapy, taking meds, exercising, eating well and sleeping. You can do all of it, some of it or none of it. They will find fault in your efforts.

— desensitization to your pain. This one isn’t their fault, it’s human nature. But it happens and yes it hurts cuz you would wish you were desensitized to your own pain but you have to feel it no matter what. Doesn’t matter if it’s the millionth time. It demands to be felt.

— people move on. But you can’t. You see people cope and get over things while you simply can’t. And it’s so much worse if you’ve been mentally ill for years. Even the smallest things break you and trigger you.

— you slowly realize this world isn’t made for mentally ill people in any way

— you’re tired / fatigued all the time. You have been for years now. You simply exist but you aren’t capable of living anymore. Your illnesses have taken everything that made you feel alive. You’re nothing but a shell. A body.

To be loved is to be known; to be seen.

Excerpts Sources:

Is it okay to say this? - Trista Masteer // Blasted - Sarah Kane // Reassurances to Hades - Kristina Haynes // The Seven Husbands of Evelyn Hugo - T.J. Reid // My Mother/Madame Edwarda/The Dead Man - Georges Bataille //"The Last Poem in the Book," These Days (Alfred A. Knopf, 1989); Over and over again - Frederick Seidel // My Mother/Madame Edwarda/The Dead Man - Georges Bataille // Adult Children of Emotionaly Immature Parents - Lindsay C. Gibson // She Satisfies A Fear with the Rhetoric of Tears - Sor Juana Inés de la Cruz // My Life Is Pathetic! - Heather Havrilesky

Frustration / longing / love

"Don't see yourself as a victim"

Oh, I'm sorry, do you think I was a fucking volunteer?

come home to me. you’ve been gone lately, and i don’t mean physically. some part of you is out in a worse place than i can pronounce. i see how it sucks the life out from under you, how your bone marrow hurts, how tired you are no matter the hour. i want to hold you until you feel warm again but i understand you need your space while this is happening. i can see you pushing me away. i wish you wouldn’t but i know what it’s like to set things on fire just for the chance that you catch too. you’re still who i love. i’m waiting for you.

Nobody ever talks about how selfless it is to choose, over and over again, to not commit suicide. Nobody ever acknowledges the tremendous sacrifice suicidal people make every time we choose not to kill ourselves. When a person who is suffering so horribly that death seems like their best option decides not to take their one way out, and to instead remain in hell, day after day, month after month, year after year, because they don’t want to hurt the people they love, they are doing something extraordinary. Not killing yourself when it’s all you want to do is the purest act of love I can imagine. Dying for someone is easy - you don’t have to deal with any of the consequences, you have your moment of nobility and then it’s all over. But living for someone, when the simple fact of consciousness is literal torture for you? Every single suicidal person who ever made a choice to not kill themselves in a moment of misery is a goddamn hero in my eyes. Wanting to die and still surviving is an act of titanic courage and self-sacrifice. We deserve more credit for it.

JOAQUIN PHOENIX DID THAT!

I need an inhaler