I’m Never The Girl The Guy Wants. Fuck It Ruins Me To See Me Be Tossed Aside Like Garbage Or Used Like

being suicidal at a funeral is the weirdest thing ever.

thoughts be like:

damn this is sad. they say all those nice things… would they do that for me too? who would come to my funeral anyways? what flowers would they bring? what would the speaker say i did in my life if i never really did anything. i dont want to see my grandma cry but damn i want to be dead so bad but what a bad person am i? its so selfish to want that!

im only a survivor because im physically here, i was killed in every other way. im afraid i’ve always been dead and that i always will be.

my scars are fading.

i need to make more

what sucks is knowing that even if you ditched all your social media and fell off the face of the planet, no one would really care. it wouldn't get you the attention you desperately crave.

no one's gonna ask where you went or if you're gonna come back. no one's gonna ask if you're okay

they probably wouldn't even notice you left.

No matter how many times my favorite person tells me he loves me I don't believe him. i can't believe him. I'm afraid of dying and not having ever felt truly loved. It's like there's a wall up in my mind that prevents me from thinking anyone could ever possibly love me. Because how do you really know?

you don't.

questioning bpd culture is being in a downward spiral for weeks and matching almost every bpd symptom, but the MOMENT that I go a whole day without feeling awful I immediately think that I've just been faking it this whole time and clearly must be actually fine

.