i wish i could talk more and have the energy to talk to people. i feel like all i do is hurt people with my absence but also with my presence

i deserve this loneliness

Modern Art

give me a nicely scented candle, a good long youtube video and some good flavored nic and i will be the happiest camper

i wish i could dream forever

relapsing is so shitty because once i start its so hard to stop, atleast when everyone found out the first time, i had my mom, i had friends, i had my bum (not-so) therapist but i feel so guilty and disappointed in myself i cant get myself to tell anyone. its like

"ugh again? i though you got better? jesus christ."

i wish i wanted to get better for myself but i really dont. i (try to) get better for my closest friends, for my mom, for my cats. it will never be about me when it comes to my lively hood but i hate that i dont want to get better. i really really want too, want to. if that makes sense? i know its not hard, i can just stop, i can give my mom my bl8de, i can use coping mechanisms, i can try harder. but the other side of me is screaming to continue and to get worse than i am, worse than i ever have been, give myself scars that will stay with me for the rest of my life so everyone can see what i feel. if i cant understand how to cope with my head then instead i can understand how to put a bandaid on. if someone wont take the time to understand how i work, how i think, how to help me. then atleast they can dress my wounds.

i wish i could write songs, i wish i wrote better, i wish i understood how to put my words together, i wish i understood how i think, i wish i could be granted three wishes. i know id never be happy though

i wish i looked sicker

i wanna cvt so bad ive been clean for a month and everyones so proud of me for it but i feel so trapped in my skin and the only way i know ill feel comfortable again is if i cvt some skin open to let myself breathe. i havent breathed in so long.

WHERE IS MY NERDY, OFF PUTTING BUT SWEET BOYFRIEND WITH DARK CIRCLES

learning about calories ruined my life. the knowledge of the calories in every single food haunts me food isn't food to me anymore it's a number

the girlbloggers guide to cinema ୨୧