If killing yourself is not an option anymore, you have to sink into the darkness instead, and make something out of it.
Emma Forrest
It is madness. And if you don't know who you are, or if your real self has drifted away from you with the undertow, madness at least gives you an identity. It's the same with self-loathing. You're probably just normal and normal-looking but that's not a real identity, not the way ugliness is. Normality, just accepting that you're probably normal-looking, lacks the force field of self-disgust. If you don't know who you are, madness gives you something to believe in.
depression life-and-living
I never lie? I am a blatantly truthful person about almost everything. My addiction (or disease as some call it) always lies. I have had very good relationships, but the addict in me always fucked them up. I fall in love quickly, it's a high that rivals drugs for a while. I am monogamous, but I always cheated with depression before the relationship fell apart. Addicts need best friends, healthy people need healthy relationships.
depression relationships addiction
When you live with voices in your head, you are drawn inextricably to voices outside your head. Very often the voices work to confirm your worst suspicions. Or think of things you could never have imagined! There are only so many hours of the day to hate yourself.
depression
When he kisses me, I cry. I explain it's not because I wish he were someone else, it's because it's such a shock to the system to be desired after feeling so completely abandoned.
I'm in love with someone good and kind and gentle, and he's seen the darkness too, but somehow we've become each other's light.
But I saw the pain and sadness in everything, and swirled it round my mouth like a fine wine.
pain life depression sorrow
The sadness? The general sadness that squats and pees inside my brain? Isn't over. It never will be. I know how best to chase it away, though. It usually works. Sometimes it doesn't. But I pray and say, fuck it, then. I choose this. It chooses me. I choose it back.
I'm not crazy or dangerous, just a bit eccentric and lonely.
depression loneliness
depression suicide
I think I've lost my faith and I can't stop writingbecause I don't know howmuch longer I can hold on.
writing depression
The goal was to get sane, to get whole, to be complete enough to support someone else.
You do it how you can do it, so long as it's getting done, you're okay.
life depression inspirational
It's as if he can no longer acknowledge the love he felt or the pain I am in. I have been dismissed. I don't think I was smarter or as beautiful as the other girls he did this to. It's just that I was me. It was all I had.
pain depression heartbreak
What people don't understand when you've already been a suicide and pulled through is that after the sadness comes fear: Where is my mind going with this? I don't want to die. I do not want to die. When you don't have so much control over your own thoughts, over the myriad voices in your head, you don't know where they could go.
There's a boy whose affection I am determined to hunt down and kill. It used to be material objects I felt I needed to be happy. It would make me feel stable if I had him. If I had someone like him, it would prove that I'm stable, and then I wouldn't have to do the work to get there. I am constantly looking for ways to cede control of my worries to someone, anyone.
depression sanity
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