It Just Keeps Coming In Waves. This Soul-crushing Feeling That I Never Can Describe Right. It Hurts,

5.30.23 - Profit off the Psychiatry. (excerpt)

My parents don't like the smell of the incense i burn. Its religious. They complain about it behind my back, like they do me.

oh my god and don’t even get me started on this OTHER girl who was my other soulmate on earth. from halloweens, to fake dating, and ice skating lessons after sleepy breakfasts.

i miss her, i hate that i threw up distance because she was leaving me and i hated her for it. i wish we could have had more time together, i wish distance didn’t force us apart.

blackout poetry from a list of reasons i should not reach out to the bad people who i still love.

12.9.22 August in december. (excerpt)

I now may have the same diagnosis, but it does not make me the monster of a man that you were. I am pursuing a degree in fisheries & wildlife at a very small school. I want a house in the mountains where me and **** can rescue dogs. I like filling my head with poetry, fluffy romance, crystals and astrology, gaming a little, indie folk music, and looking at the stars. I stopped playing softball and I like being outside, but most days I just want to curl up in bed. I still play ukulele but I started learning guitar. My favorite color isn’t yellow anymore, it is green. 

I am no longer the me that you knew, and you my dear are no longer you. 

something visceral about my mom sadly looking at me and quietly saying “do you think your dad would have done the same if it was you instead of your sister?”

sometimes the validation that i am and will always be the scapegoat child hurts

Why did you stop caring this time??

i pray so often for my friends and chosen family, but i just know that no one is out there praying for me.

this study has me all sorts of fucked up. i feel super shitty for a lot of my behavior and my just entire being right now. i’ve always been told since i was younger that i was this unfeeling manipulative monster, what if it’s true? what if all the doctors are lying or just don’t know enough to tell me that i’m horrible? how i endanger people, act shitty, am just wholly the demon my father said i was?

how do you cope? how do you just move on from that self reflection that you possibly aren’t the way close people say you are? how do i know what is real? who to trust?

i need to talk to dez but i don’t even know what i would say-

every time i make a mistake im like theyre going to put me down like a sick dog

feeling v sub-human as of late. i’m not that scary to talk to i don’t think?? i know i have a disorder. i know i’m like a pitbull and everyone seems to think i eat toddlers. but i genuinely just want to talk to humans n have real friends for once,

like i love poetry, and folk & indie music, and playing ukulele. i love my gods and i read tarot sometimes and collect cool rocks. i have the cutest cats and want people to send pictures of them to. my favorite color is a muted tone of forest green.

i’m a pitbull, but i think i am a little human sometimes too. i promise the genes don’t make me a completely bad dog. someone just take a chance on me, im begging,