Someone broke me. Someone was trying to fix me. Now I’m here broken, trying to fix myself and balance everything else around. I’m tired.

Things are falling apart and I’m hanging on by a thread. I’ve become content with this. I don’t think this world needs me for any longer. I’ll see how long I push myself. To see if something or someone can prove to me that everything is worth it. But for now, I don’t know who would honestly miss me. Who honestly cares. Who honestly couldn’t move on. Maybe I’m being selfish. But I feel too alone. I hope this world can prove to me it’s worth staying in.

traumasuggestion:

When someone confronted you about what you did, do you remember what you said?
“How was it wrong? We just had sex.”
And, from what I was told, you said it with such conviction that it seemed like you honestly had no idea that what you did was against the law.
But seriously, tell me, please.
Was it sex when you locked the door? Was it sex when you kissed me and I asked you to stop? Was it sex when you straddled my hips? Was it sex when you pinned my wrists above my head? Was it sex when you put your hands around my throat because I wouldn’t say I wanted it?
When was it ever sex?

Nothing feels real. I don’t feel alive. I’m not important. It’s about time to act like the nothing I am and stop pretending everything is okay. Because it isn’t. Because I’m not.

peppermintsdicks:

you are stronger than whatever problem comes your way

whatever it is that you are facing will eventually pass

and you will overcome it

maybe you won’t do well, you may stumble or even fall down

but it passes, and we get up and move on

these bumps and potholes in the road are meaningless

and your health and happiness are more important than anything

you are important

and you deserve to be around to discover just how important you are

I’m so close to completely breaking down and doing what I should’ve done years ago. Everyday is just another fucking blur and no body could possibly care enough to stop me. I’m surprised I’m stopping myself. It’s the bravest thing I’ve ever done. And I fucking hate myself for it. I’m so close to giving up. I just need a fucking hug. I need someone to lie to me and tell me I’ll be okay. I need help. But I don’t want to burden anyone anymore. I can’t do it. Everyday is blurring together. It’s killing me.

I’m struggling so much not to take a blade to my healing skin. I need the beads of red, the sting, and the rusty smell. I need release. I need something to help.