@ourdyingbeast

whitewitchofash:

I feel this. I’m filled with love, soft and sweet–caressing and empathetic almost to a fault. My tears falling for people I do not know and words I fail to say. I want more strong, steadiness in that divine love and will it to be loving toward myself as well, holy and pure to myself and my body– every imperfection.

Simultaneously I’m trying to store that deep rooted carnal rage somewhere else– in times when I need to dig deep, find my courage, voice, and shaking hands turn firm and clenched white bone with powerful confidence.

Because too often have I not loved myself enough, and gave myself fully and unconsciously to others who were not kind.

Too often have I lashed out too violently, and left hot wounds that guilt couldn’t take back.

ourdyingbeast:

I’m filled with divine love and undying rage

It hurts

rottingegirl:

I’m forever broken. I need help. I’m scared for my life. I’m being manipulated by a friend threatening suicide. They want me to solve their problems or else they will kill themselves. I don’t know what to do. The only thing I can do is kill myself and be free

rottingegirl:

Rage consumes my heart

Hey. Things can get better, friends. I know we all hate ourself and want to die and will die evenutally. Just, do not underestimate love.

newdiary421 :

I just want to slice my wrists open and bleed out and fucking die.

bloodstainedloveletter :

My heart feels like its rotting!!

mixing benzos and alcohol. dropped vodka on wound. hurt like hell.

crypticcanine:

A S

Y O U

W I S H.

willinq :

me: *talks about something im excited/passionate about*

literally everyone ever:

hostilesuggestion:

How STUPID do you think i am??? LEAVE ME THE FUCK ALONE SO I CAN WALLOW IN THE MISERY YOU HAVE CAUSED ME

willamisqueen :

Death just seems like the best way out atm

bitter-and-angry :

I lost my teenage years to a putrid worm

lovenotereminders :

The phrase “what doesn’t kill you makes you stronger” is misleading af.

Your trauma doesn’t get the credit for making you stronger.

You were the one who made the decision to recover and put the work in to get there. You were the one who rose from your own ashes. You were the one who put yourself back together again like smashed pottery repaired with veins of gold. You are the flowers that sprouted through the cracks in the tarmac. You stuck around and you fought and you learned and you grew.

The thing that nearly killed you shouldn’t get the credit for making you stronger - you did that.

My therapist says I don’t need meds. She’s probably right and I believe her, but right now I’d just drown myself in sedatives

uhohbabeytime :

please dont reblog if you aren’t a trauma survivor!

loveless-void:

bpdorky :

am i the only person who has daydreams about their suicide and how people will react

chaotic-cunt :

reblog if you:

- flinch away when someone touches you.

- panic when you accidentally break an object.

- get scared when someone walks behind you.

- feel your heart rate increase at every sudden noise.

- are easily panicked by slightly-louder-than-normal sounds.

- stare apprehensively at your bedroom doorway for hours at night.

- have trouble making eye contact with people.

- always feel either too mature or too immature for your age.

- simultaneously crave and be terrified of physical contact.

because i do all of these

can’t wait to watch u die