I Dread These Halls Like The Hand Of God.

And I missed out on so much of my life because I was living in a constant state of anxiety. And if it wasn't anxiety then it was depression. And if it wasn't depression then it was mania. And I literally can't remember being a child. I can't remember being a person. My whole life looks like this inescapable grey haze and I'm stuck in it. Buried in it. I don't want to fall asleep crying anymore. I don't want nightmare after nightmare. I want to feel safe and comfortable and happy and I am literally incapable of it. And that is so fucking terrifying.

it hurts so much more to be so aware of my behavior. it’s like i know i’m toxic rn and overly emotional. but when i mention it people won’t believe my illness anymore.

just because i’m aware doesn’t mean i can turn it off. if anything, it just makes me feel twice as bad about the thing happening and my reaction to it.

"i would die for you" this, "i'd walk through fire for you that"

what about "i'd live for you" romances? what about "i never thought i'd be worth the work it would take to piece myself together"?

what about "i don't believe i'm worth it, but for you i'll try"

Having to live a future you didn’t think you’d be alive for is so fucking hard

a solid sort of artificial sensation

the kinds that digs and claws and sinks it's filthy teeth into everything you are

leaves you in a place of remote isolation

and travels deep within the confines of what you use to explain yourself

there's no one here that truly gets it

no one who really wonders if you feel alright, past the point of superficial friendships that you know will never last a lifetime

never last more than a few months, weeks

it's over now, you think

and everything is meaningless

Knowing you're gonna have an episode soon and being able to do absolutely nothing to stop it is like waiting for your execution or trying to outrun a tsunami