#suicide Tumblr posts

  • support
    27.01.2014 - 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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  • justdoingweirdstuff
    14.06.2021 - 4 minutes ago

    I want to fucking die

    Why do I have to be like this?

    Why am I so annoying?

    Please,someone

    Talk to me

    Hug me

    Heal me

    Save me

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  • starrystarberry
    14.06.2021 - 7 minutes ago

    Why is it that talking to certain people makes my suicidality worse not better, why cannot I just go to bed and sleep and never wake up?

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  • hewwotiddy
    14.06.2021 - 10 minutes ago

    i have no words. pete imma get you outta there

    #pete davidson #pete i cant keep defending you #suicide squad #did they edit this in picsart
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  • lucid-king-of-the-north
    14.06.2021 - 11 minutes ago

    im not gonan gfucking make it

    #tw vent #tw suicidal thoughts
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  • bloomingtalent
    14.06.2021 - 12 minutes ago
    #historias-multorum#answered ask #out of confidence #suicide baiting tw #tw: suicide baiting
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  • lucid-king-of-the-north
    14.06.2021 - 14 minutes ago

    hi i am. shkaign-

    #tw vent#void vents #my mom keeps comparing me to my sister! #i dont wanna be fucking like her! #fuck off! #im not a girl! #im not like her! #i cant be like her #i cant be her. #i cant be #i cant#shs manpulative #shes guilt truppy #i cant ebr hlike hre #i shoudl jsut fucking die #tw suicidal thoughts #tw suicidal ideation #liam look away #rory look away
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  • bearded-cat
    14.06.2021 - 20 minutes ago

    Last week i had suicidal thoughts everyday.

    Yesterday i went to the bathroom, saw some scissors and cut my hair. I felt better.

    Today im talking to some friends over zoom. Im excited.

    Im happy. Maybe its going to last just today. Maybe its going to be a few hours before i want to disappear again. But right now im happy, im energetic, and im reminded that THIS, this feeling is why i must live.

    This is a reminder to not kill yourself, because this feeling will come again. You will want to be here even if just for a moment. And its worth everything else. If you die today you wont be here tomorrow to feel this. Please stay.

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  • traumaticchild
    14.06.2021 - 22 minutes ago

    im getting worse and worse at talking myself off the ledge

    #i dont care anymore!!!!!!! #im chill im chill dw #personal#suicidal
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  • fr4gm3n7c0r3
    14.06.2021 - 22 minutes ago

    _kmrak

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  • lucid-king-of-the-north
    14.06.2021 - 28 minutes ago

    hearing your mom talk bout you to her friend bout you one day going to a college that shes always dreamed of you to go to while you know youre probably gonna be dead before you even reach 15

    #tw vent #tw suicidal thoughts #tw suicide hint #tw suicide #liam look away #rory look away #void vents
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  • dailyfresh-za
    14.06.2021 - 31 minutes ago

    Is Pooh Shiesty On Suicide Watch?

    Is Pooh Shiesty On Suicide Watch?

    Pooh Shiesty appeared in court wearing a “turtle vest” which is allegedly given to inmates that are on suicide watch. Memphis rapper Pooh Shiesty appeared in court last week, where he had his bond revoked and was informed that he would need to remain incarcerated until he goes on trial. The rapper was arrested following a shooting incident at a Miami strip club. He allegedly fired a shot at the…

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  • rooftop-nightz-fnf
    14.06.2021 - 36 minutes ago

    *he sat on the rooftop, smoking. He was so fucking tempted to jump off.* "god why does this shit always happen. I can't fucking keep him out of trouble, can I? I'm a shit dad."

    #starter#smoking tw #suicidal thoughts tw
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  • adaylitdream
    14.06.2021 - 38 minutes ago

    I understand having an attachment to a character but going as far as telling a fanfic author you're going to commit suicide if they kill them in their fanfic is way to fuckin far

    #suicide mention cw #it was awhile back when i saw this but i still remember it and go #what the fuck
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  • janefaery
    14.06.2021 - 39 minutes ago

    Anonymous   said   :   what   do   you   believe   stands   between   you   and   complete   happiness?

    Me.   “Well,   that’s   a   complicated   question,   isn’t   it?   I   mean,   complete   happiness…   is   that   even   realistic?”   A   laugh   to   hide   the   nervousness,   but   it   doesn’t   work,   the   fingers   twisting   together   in   front   of   her   dress   enough   of   a   tell   to   give   away   what   she   doesn’t   want   to   say.

    What   stands   between   herself   and   complete   happiness   isn’t   a   complicated   question,   it’s   easy,   it’s   always   been   easy   because   it’s   always   been   her,   she’s   always   wanted   things   she   shouldn’t.

    Have   you   met   me?

    “I   mean,   everyone   has   different   things   that   make   them   happy,   right?   And   to   different   degrees.”   

    But   it   wasn’t   about   what   made   everyone   happy,   Jane   knew   that   and   she   wasn’t   confused.   It   was   second   nature   to   do   this,   to   obscure,   to   deflect,   to   change   the   question   by   answering   one   slightly   similar.   She   could   make   herself   happy   in   small   degrees,   everyone   could,   everyone   had   little   things   that   they   enjoyed,   but   complete   happiness…   what   a   concept.   Could   someone   be   completely   happy?   Wasn’t   being   miserable   at   times   required   in   order   to   appreciate   your   happiness?

    Baking   made   her   happy.   Cool,   breezy   days   with   flowers   coming   to   bloom.   Rainy   days   with   good   books   and   cups   of   warm   tea.   She   wanted   that   and   more,   she   wanted   someone   to   share   it   with.

    But   not   just   a   friend,   never   just   a   friend.

    People   had   different   aspirations,   they   wanted   to   grow   up   to   be   ship   captains   or   doctors   or   fashion   designers,   but   all   Jane   wanted   was   to   be   married,   to   not   be   alone.   Nine   or   nineteen,   the   age   didn’t   matter   because   the   urge   to   belong   didn’t   burn   away   with   extra   candles   on   the   birthday   cake.   

    It   didn’t   have   to   be   a   wedding,   she   realized   that   over   the   years   because   there   was   more   than   one   way   to   mark   a   commitment,   not   everyone   wanted   to   be   married   and   Jane   could   respect   that.   It   didn’t   take   a   wedding   ring   to   make   emotions   real,   but   that   symbol   meant   something   to   her,   she   liked   symbols   more   than   the   ceremony.

    It   wasn’t   the   wedding,   it   was   belonging,   it   was   being   with   someone,   and   what   an   old-fashioned,   sexist,   childish   dream.   Little   girls   dreamed   of   their   soulmate,   but   Jane   remained   obsessed   with   the   concept   long   after   everyone   else   outgrew   it   and   turned   to   thinking   about   what   they   were   going   to   be   known   for   and   what   they   would   accomplish.   Animal   sanctuaries   were   nice,   your   own   brand   of   hair   care   products   would   leave   a   lasting   mark,   who   didn’t   want   a   little   bit   of   prestige   and   to   make   a   name   for   themselves?   They   wanted   something   with   weight,   something   substantial   instead   of   a   symbol   proving   that   they   mattered   to   someone,   that   they   couldn’t   be   replaced   with   a   nameless   body   from   a   nightclub.

    Jane   wasn’t   like   that,   she   knew   what   she   was   capable   of.   She   could   bake   a   dozen   cupcakes   for   a   bake   sale   and   be   congratulated   on   how   light   they   were,   she   could   plan   a   party   without   anything   going   wrong,   she   could   sing   without   worries   about   being   booed.   An   entire   life   spent   going   between   school   offices   and   helping   arrange   parties,   Jane   had   talents   and   skills   even   if   no   one   applauded   them   and   didn’t   need   an   award   to   know   it.   She   had   awards,   they   didn’t   make   her   happy,   they   just   gave   her   mother   something   to   show   off.

    Her   speed   dial   was   nothing   but   teachers   from   school,   work   associates   and   officials   taking   the   spots   that   should   have   been   for   people   that   were   important   to   her   and   knew   her   as   more   than   their   boss’   daughter.   Social   interactions   were   business,   Jane   had   a   loyal   customer   discount   at   the   best   florist   around   and   the   honor   of   being   on   a   first   name   basis   with   the   owners   of   three   catering   companies,   working   and   networking   were   part   of   her   day   to   day   life,   it   was   her   only   life,   and   just   because   the   media   didn’t   cover   her   with   the   same   fervor   of   a   princess   didn’t   make   it   less   true.

    None   of   that   mattered,   no   accomplishment   was   enough   to   buy   what   she   wanted   in   the   eyes   of   others,   of   her   mother.   You   worked,   you   were   professional,   you   were   business-like,   and   anything   else   was   a   disappointment   and   a   betrayal   to   every   woman   that   worked   against   sexism.

    Did   you   want   to   set   women   back   a   decade?   Did   you   want   to   say   they   belonged   in   the   kitchen,   that   they   weren’t   good   for   anything   but   having   children   and   looking   pretty?   Of   course   not,   which   meant   shut   up   and   go   to   work,   don’t   be   disrespectful   to   all   the   progress   they’d   made,   don’t   be   such   a   victim   to   the   patriarchy.

    Why   couldn’t   she   want   to   be   loved   and   support   women   being   independent   and   career-minded   while   wanting   a   relationship?   Why   couldn’t   she   be   soft   and   want   someone   to   hold   her   hand   without   being   told   it   made   her   weak?   When   did   romance   turn   into   a   dirty   concept   and   why   should   a   relationship   mean   you   weren’t   living   up   to   your   full   potential?

    Who   had   the   right   to   decide   what   her   potential   was   and   when   it   was   wasted?

    That   didn’t   need   to   be   answered   because   the   answer   didn’t   matter,   it   was   selfish   to   put   your   happiness   in   the   hands   of   another   person,   so   incredibly   fucking   cruel   to   try   forcing   someone   else   to   be   responsible   for   your   happiness.   

    It   wasn’t   right   and   it   wasn’t   fair   and   that   wasn’t   Jane's   goal.   She   could   be   happy   baking   a   cake,   she   could   watch   a   sunset,   she   could   sing   little   lullabies   and   slice   her   sandwiches   into   triangles,   recreate   the   moments   of   her   childhood   that   made   her   feel   special   and   were   snatched   away   too   fast,   she   didn’t   need   another   person   to   do   that   for   her.

    She   didn’t   necessarily   want   someone   to   do   it   for   her,   either,   she   just   wanted   someone   that   would   be   willing   to   hold   her   hand   during   it   and   wouldn’t   make   her   feel   defective   for   needing   to   be   treated   carefully   from   time   to   time.   What   a   joke,   to   think   standing   by   her   and   supporting   her   could   be      a   primary   goal   in   someone’s   life   when   there   were   so   many   other   things   they   could   be   busy   with,   their   own   success   would   be   their   drive   and   who   would   want   to   hold   a   crybaby’s   hand   instead?

    What   a   rare   person   kept   Jane   from   feeling   like   she   was   a   waste   of   their   time   and   resources,   someone   that   could   look   at   her   and   Jane   didn’t   feel   like   she   was   found   wanting   in   some   way.   (Rare,   beautiful,   incapable   of   being   duplicated,   she   was   so,   so   grateful.)   It   wasn’t   what   Jane   expected   from   others   and   why   would   she?   

    When   had   she   been   first   choice?   

    Never.   

    Folding   herself   up   smaller,   quietening   down   one   interest   and   looking   into   some   other   hobby,   Jane   didn’t   know   when   she’d   first   started   working   at   making   herself   into   the   kind   of   person   that   could   hold   someone   else’s   attention,   but   it   felt   like   she’d   been   trying   and   failing   at   it   her   entire   life.   A   little   origami   girl   meant   to   be   folded   up   into   a   star,   into   a   swan,   into   something   appealing,   but   keep   folding   and   you   have   a   ball   of   paper   meant   for   the   trash.

    Summer   school   every   year,   extra   practice,   advanced   classes,   skipping   grades   would   have   been   so   easy   and   yet   she   wasn’t   good   enough   to   deserve   someone’s   full   attention.   She   was   a   commoner   in   a   school   of   royals,   subhuman   around   humans,   she   was   short,   she   was   chubby,   she   wasn’t   what   anyone   looked   for   or   wanted,   an   afterthought   to   be   dealt   with   after   the   social   interactions   someone   wanted   to   partake   in   actually   ended.

    Jane   was   a   clipboard   with   a   voice,   the   shadow   in   the   corner   of   the   room   that   made   sure   that   things   worked   out,   she   wasn’t   a   person   and   according   to   her   mom,   the   mark   of   a   good   event   coordinator   was   that   they   didn’t   go   noticed.   They   made   things   come   together   for   other   people   and   didn’t   disturb   the   picture.

    How   dare   Jane   ever   forget   she   was   a   background   character   in   every   story,   including   her   own.

    Third   place,   twelfth   place,   tied   with   nameless   thousands   in   obscurity,   should   it   really   matter?   Shouldn’t   just   placing   be   enough   to   count   for   something   when   it   came   to   not   being   alone,   or   was   it   necessary   to   be   selfish   and   always   want   more,   more,   more,   to   not   only   demand,   but   plead   for   more   than   what   someone   was   willing   to   give?   All   that   happiness   she   had   for   happy   couples,   all   the   swooning   she   did   over   romantic   gestures,   it   only   lasted   for   so   long   before   turning   sharp   and   ugly,   envy   festering   inside   her   like   a   sickness   and   would   anything   ever   be   enough?   

    You   couldn’t   make   someone   care,   but   you   could   push   them   away.

    She’d   read   those   books   Silas   sent   and   what   was   she   supposed   to   learn   from   them?   There   was   more   than   one   type   of   love?   The   greeks   taught   her   that,   she   knew   that,   but   Jane   loved   books   and   even   those   had   a   lesson.

    She   expected   too   much,   she   needed   to   stop   that,   stop   expecting   that   she   could   find   someone   that   would   put   her   as   first   in   their   life   because   what   were   the   odds   of   that?   Of   finding   your   perfect   match,   of   finding   a   soulmate,   a   true   love,   someone   that   would   choose   you   and   want   to   keep   choosing   you?   She   wasn’t   the   hero   in   a   story,   she   was   the   sidekick,   she   was   one   of   millions   of   people   and   logic   was   all   Jane   needed   to   know   that   she   wasn’t   going   to   be   the   person   someone   wanted   to   stick   to   when   there   were   so   many   other   options?   

    They   called   it   ‘settling’   down   for   a   reason,   why   would   she   think   she   deserved   more   than   a   comfortable   ending,   if   that   much?   

    She   knew   what   people   said,   that   if   you   wanted   more,   you   had   to   demand   more,   but   people   could   demand   water   in   the   desert   and   what   did   that   get   them   but   a   faster   death   from   spending   their   energy   shouting   at   empty   air?   If   you   wanted   to   have   high   standards,   you   needed   to   be   able   to   live   up   to   them   and   Jane   had   made   choices   that   removed   her   from   consideration.

    She   wasn’t   respectable,   she   was   someone   that   went   against   her   mother,   she   was   used   goods   and   not   the   kind   of   match   that   a   good,   upstanding   family   would   want   for   their   child.   Jane   didn’t   even   believe   in   the   values   of   an   ‘upstanding’   auradon   family   anymore,   but   it   still   hurt   to   know   she   wouldn’t   be   good   enough,   that   she   would   be   considered   a   tarnish   on   a   family   name   for   more   than   one   reason.   Painful,   but   not   new,   not   a   surprise   because   the   world   always   fell   into   two   groups.   

    Fae   or   Human.   Isle   or   Auradon.   Someone   pure   that   was   respectable   enough   to   be   kept,   and   someone   that   wasn’t   pure   and   would   only   be   taken   by   those   wanting   a   temporary   distraction.

    Maybe   that’s   all   anyone   was,   just   a   temporary   distraction,   but   Jane   could   think   of   that   without   wanting   to   break   into   tears   and   be   swallowed   by   despair.   

    It   wasn't   about   exclusivity   just   like   it   wasn’t   about   marriage,   she   wasn’t   that   selfish   because   she   knew   she   could   never   be   enough   for   a   person,   it   was   about   wanting   not   to   be   replaced,   it   was   about   commitment   and   wanting   to   be   kept   instead   of   discarded   like   trash,   but   that   was   such   an   extreme   hope,   wasn't   it?   She   remembered   being   younger,   wanting   a   boyfriend   and   wanting   to   scrub   off   all   her   skin,   hoping   that   maybe   if   she   dug   deep   enough,   she'd   find   that   internal   beauty   her   mother   was   always   talking   about,   but   what   was   the   use   when   the   other   kids   had   already   told   her   she   was   so   flawed   that   she   had   to   be   rotting   instead?   Part   human   and   part   fae,   not   enough   for   either,   you'd   think   she'd   be   used   to   it   by   now.

    So   few   people   made   her   feel   wanted,   she   begged   for   those   scraps   of   attention   like   a   starved   dog,   kicked   and   still   coming   back   for   more.   Had   anyone   said   she   was   wanted,   or   had   she   simply   shown   up   and   begged   forgiveness   for   the   imposition,   wanting   a   corner   to   hover   in   while   she   longed   to   be   invited   to   sit   at   the   table   like   an   honoured   guest   instead   of   the   local   ghost?   So   eager   to   get   in,   so   eager   to   leave   before   she   could   be   tossed   out,   to   pretend   like   her   presence   could   have   been   sweet   since   it   was   short.   

    I   want   you.   I   want   you   here.   You’re   welcome   here.   Those   words   would   be   like   bliss   for   what   they   implied   -   Inclusion,   a   place,   belonging,   because   it   all   circled   back   to   the   same   thing,   didn’t   it?   Being   allowed   to   exist   at   someone’s   side   and   not   having   to   fight   for   the   chance   to   be   important   enough   to   walk   behind   them   like   nothing   more   than   an   aide,   suffering   through   sleepless   nights   and   skipped   meals   just   to   prove   she   was   useful,   that   she   shouldn’t   be   replaced   for   at   least   one   more   day.

    That   was   the   only   way   her   presence   ever   felt   like   it   counted,   if   she   worked   for   someone,   and   maybe   if   Jane   was   half   as   smart   as   her   grades   said   she   was,   Jane   would   accept   that   was   the   only   way   she   would   ever   be   wanted.

    Boring,   bland   little   girl.   Plain   Jane,   how   many   times   did   she   hear   that   growing   up?   Why   would   anyone   stay   with   someone   that   was   like   stale   bread?   Nothing   interesting   and   exciting   to   see,   nothing   to   keep   someone’s   attention   if   she   ever   managed   to   catch   it,   just   a   way   to   pass   the   time,   a   convenient   port   when   there   wasn’t   anything   better   around.   

    Respecting   yourself   and   holding   out   for   more   was   well   and   good   if   you   were   worth   something,   but   there   wasn’t   anything   to   gain.   There   were   easier   people   to   deal   with   that   could   hand   out   what   Jane   had   to   offer,   people   that   could   do   it   better,   so   playing   hard   to   get   wouldn’t   amount   to   anything   but   running   from   ghosts.   That   starving   dog   that   begged   for   scraps   wasn’t   in   a   position   to   turn   its   nose   up   and   wait   for   roast   beef,   squandering   your   choices   could   lead   to   starvation,   but   crumbs   gave   you   another   day.

    Some   people   would   never   be   happy,   they   wouldn’t   let   themselves   be,   but   happiness   came   in   different   shapes   and   Jane’s   happiness   could   be   someone’s   idea   of   misery.   Fae   couldn’t   love   properly,   they   couldn’t   love   someone   right,   the   children   at   Jane’s   old   daycare   made   sure   she   knew   that,   they   taunted   her   for   thinking   she   could   be   the   princess   in   their   game,   for   daring   to   believe   with   a   child’s   innocence   that   she   could   be   someone’s   magical   kiss.

    No   one   deserved   that,   to   waste   their   time   trying   to   love   someone   that   couldn’t   love   them   back   right   and   what   kind   of   person   would   Jane   be   to   curse   someone   to   be   with   her   like   that?   They   deserved   better   and   it   was   too   cruel   to   insist   someone   give   her   something   Jane   couldn’t   give   in   return.

    She   thought   she   could   love.   She’d   never   said   it   to   anyone   and   no   one   said   it   to   Jane,   but   Jane   wanted   to   believe   that   maybe   one   day   it   could   happen,   that   she   could   love   and   be   loved,   that   in   a   world   where   magic   existed,   she   could   be   allowed   to   experience   it   at   least   once,   at   least   for   a   little   while.

    Uma   once   mentioned   immortality   to   Jane,   a   concept   that   never   crossed   her   mind   before   and   hopefully   never   would   again.   She   wasn’t   going   to   live   forever,   the   idea   of   facing   the   ages   alone   was   abhorrent   and   Jane   recoiled   from   it   instinctively.   Things   could   kill   her,   she   could   be   murdered   or   she   could   grow   sick,   but   fading   away   from   loneliness   seemed   like   a   possibility,   or   dying   of   a   broken   heart.

    If   she   ever   did   find   someone   to   love   and   be   loved   by,   her   life   would   end   with   theirs.   It   wasn’t   a   whimsy,   it   was   a   simple   fact,   a   conscious   decision   on   her   part   that   was   as   good   as   a   vow.   They   weren’t   for   everyone,   but   Jane   enjoyed   commitments   and   a   girl   that   longed   to   know   she   wasn’t   going   to   be   sent   away   wouldn’t   abandon   a   lover   for   eternity.

    It   was   asking   too   much   of   her   to   experience   love   and   then   continue   on   without   them,   Jane   wouldn't   do   it,   refused   to   love   someone   and   then   let   them   go   just   because   one   lifespan   was   over.   She   wasn’t   going   to   move   on,   she   wasn’t   going   to   forget   them   or   replace   them,   how   could   anyone   expect   Jane   to   experience   that   joy   of   belonging   and   then   give   them   up   to   return   to   an   endless   expanse   of   time?

    It   felt   like   abandoning   them   and   eternity   wasn’t   worth   it,   not   to   Jane.   She   would   choose   love   and   if   death   dared   take   them   from   her,   Jane   would   follow   them.   Her   love   would   be   eternal,   not   her   life   -   She   would   make   certain   of   it.

    Damn   her   for   it   if   she   was   wrong,   but   belonging   somewhere   was   worth   dying   for   and   that   was   the   big   happiness   to   Jane,   that   grand   one   that   the   question   meant,   but   it   was   too   grand   for   her   and   Jane   needed   to   stop   expecting   so   much.   She   didn’t   deserve   it,      she   wouldn’t   feel   that   gnawing   hunger   inside   her   at   the   sight   of   people   around   her   benefiting   from   being   loved   if   she   was   a   good,   decent   person.   Envy   stole   away   her   grace,   left   her   longing   to   be   the   one   people   dreamed   about,   the   one   they   missed,   the   one   they   wanted   to   stay   with,   the   one   they   told   ‘come   with   me’,   but   that   wasn’t   her,   there   wasn’t   enough   to   her   to   grant   Jane   that   value.

    Sucking   in   a   deep   breath,   Jane   held   it   for   a   count   of   five   and   then   released   it   slowly.   There   were   many   ways   she   could   answer   the   question   without   telling   the   truth,   evading   uncomfortable   truths   becoming   a   specialty,   but   this   felt   like   something   she   should   admit   to.

    “Me.”   She   admitted   finally,   flattening   her   hands   against   her   stomach   to   cease   the   fidgeting   of   her   fingers.   “I’m   the   problem.   If   I   stop   expecting   so   much   and   stop   being   such   a   perfectionist,   maybe   then   I’ll   be   happy.   If   I   stop   being   so   envious   and   accept   what   I   have   instead   of   craving   more,   maybe   then.”

    Because   in   the   end,   it   was   all   her   fault,   wasn’t   it?   She   always   did   something   wrong.

    #rora sent me this question weeks ago and i finally finished answering it #warning it's like a 3k love letter to self hate and there's lowkey a suicide mention? #but probably not enough to tag for #⁕   do   love   a   happy   ending   ⋯   [   answered   ] #⁕   arc   03   ;   kindness   goodness   magic   ⋯   [   post   canon   ;   main   ] #⁕   believe   in   everything   ⋯   [   inspo   ]
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  • yuuzhanbong
    14.06.2021 - 42 minutes ago

    sits all of my mutuals down and forces them to watch Hardware a.k.a. Mk. 13 (1990)

    #big tw for a graphic on screen suicide and a voyeuristic sex freak but. the movie sticks with you
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  • pogaytosalad
    14.06.2021 - 46 minutes ago

    I basically just submitted a suicide note to my english teacher.

    Woohoo

    #ask to tag #suicide tw
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