I want to leave you hickeys, bites and bruises where only you and I know where they are

i don’t make the rules, my brain does and unfortunately that bitch is chemically imbalanced

Я ждала, надеялась

И всё в пустую

Надежда умирает последней,

Но мне кажется,

моё сердце умрёт раньше

Скажи мне, есть ли смысл в том, что я так крепко вцепилась в твою душу?

!!!

Why I love Uni <3

understanding academic concepts got me blushing swinging my legs giggling

I grieve for the version of me I was and could have been if he never happened. Maybe I could have been better for my actual first love if he didn’t ruin me. I wish I would have been better.

To him

I always say that he was just a moment in time, and I reduce the marks he left only to the ones on my body. He’s one of the only things I’m truly ashamed of. Under the surface I know the way he treated me for all those years wasn’t nothing and it probably shaped my brain - but I don’t wanna accept that. Someone as rotten as him, ugly and vile in the bones, can’t be a variable in the equation of me. I refuse. And he’s probably the reason I think often thin so little of myself, because he treated me like a doll, who’s only use was to please him , who let him do what he wanted. In those years he never took me on an actual date, or even one where he didn’t touch me. He knew we had nothing in common, he didn’t care about the things I liked or talked about. It just didn’t matter. They only mattered as a means to touch me. And he didn’t even try to hide any of it very well. But he would constantly praise himself on how much he does for me, how much time he makes - to what? To constantly have his hands on me ? To fuck me? To pressure me into jerking him off? To beg me to give him a blow job until I said yes? And not once did he treat me like a human. Yes, you were a great wonderful boyfriend you fuckface.

Oh and remember when you begged me and fought over a year to make me go on birth control? After I said i didn’t wanna have Sex anymore for a while? You twisted my mind so bad I always ended up apologizing, for being a bad girlfriend and not just being a fuck toy like you would have liked.

You refused to let me know anything about you, it’s almost like I dated a stranger for years, you know, I did. Any question I asked, you just closed the door on me.

Anything I did, I breathed, you sexualized me. I was the sweetest person on earth back then. I was so nice, naive, impressionable. Everyone tried to warn me. All of the guys. Even tho ones who were dicks. They knew.

All the times you would tell me you’d hurt yourself if I left, the time where you broke up with me and then for a year refused to let me live my life, kept me on the hook. I have never fought with anyone before. You made me act like an insane person so bad, I started googling the way I was acting- borderline.

I never said such bad things the way I said them to you. And I don’t think I’ll ever reach that level of anger and split so bad like I did back then. I was the picture of borderline. I was so ashamed- I thought I was the one hurting you. But you made me crazy. You mentally abused me everyday for a year and didn’t let me leave, threatened me you’ll kill your self. I tried so hard. Just to end up in a relationship with you again, getting back to the abuse.

It all happened all over. You touch me, I say no, you touch me anyway, I push you away, you laugh, push me into the grass and put your hand around my neck and keep kissing me. You laugh.

You touch me, I say no, you take out a condom, and I take it out of your hand and throw it across the room. Because I knew that would keep you out of me.

You laugh.

You are a spawn from the depths of hell. How are you not ashamed?

And I defended you to anyone who tried to say anything against you - for fucks sake I was defending the most disgusting things you did on the daily. And you wouldn’t even admit to your boys I was your girlfriend?

I was nothing to you, you didn’t love me, no matter how much you claimed you did. The fact I’m gay doesn’t matter. I loved you in my own way. Not in the way you wanted, or I wanted, but I did kinda. In some twisted, small way. But you didn’t even give me the honor of human decency. Hell, you loved your computer and Mountain Dew more than me. You loved your socks more than me.

You are the beginning of the darkest creeks in my soul, you are the worst thing I ever experienced.

I don’t often wish upon people suffering really bad things, but for you, oh god I hope life gets you good.

Sincerely,

M

Life looks soooooo good. Can’t wait to have one someday

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I feel like a horrible person because I know people care , but somehow it feels like no one does, so what is it? Am i just a selfish person who’s never satisfied and can’t appreciate what she gets? It’s like, as soon as I’m alone with myself for one minute- my life seems worthless. I try to find meaning, in people, in dreams, in everyday things. And as soon as I feel like I finally have a grasp on my enjoyment of life, it slips away again. Because nothing seems enough. It’s at a point where i question if I’m really REALLY just THAT mentally ill and chronically suicidal like they say about people with borderline. I don’t wanna be that way. I don’t wanna accept that as my personality, it can’t be who I am. If that’s what I am - then I am clearly not made for this life. Maybe it’s natural selection or something, nature has always had the craziest ways of picking the right ones to survive, maybe I’m just one who doesn’t make it. It’s like I’m aware of the air around me being so heavy and I have the spend all my energy everyday to keep walking straight. It shouldn’t be this hard - it’s not always this hard, but a lot of times.

I thought by the age of 21 I would be over this. When I was 16 I thought I would be okay again, and I feel like I let myself down. 17 year old me I have to admit, is the strongest version of me that existed. She had it by far the worst, and yet she made it. And here I am whining about being depressed and mentally ill, when all she was trying to do was save us.

The things is, once you almost die a couple times , once people see you drown over the years and make it out, they assume you’ll come to the surface every time, so they stop checking in.

But what if I don’t? What if I drown once too much and don’t make it out alive? What if I still need crutches to walk?

What I would like is someone who would care enough to check up one me once in a while. I feel like I could die today and no one would notice until an eternity later

What is it about pms that makes me actually suicidal every month