Showing posts with label general trigger. Show all posts
Showing posts with label general trigger. Show all posts
Fragments
how can there be so much panic in one person? how can i be scared of nothing but myself apparently?
what does my mind see, that my eyes can't? there must be something big and dangerous right in front of me, i can feel it, but it's not there, how can my body react to nothing,
i just don't understand...
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why is it, that the earth floats through space and travels around the sun but my heart is chained to the dusty lampshade beside my bed? wherefore rises the sun each and every day again no matter what happened and my mind is lost in complete darkness? and how does it come, that i can save no one, not even myself?
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i'm so tired i can't dream, i'm so hungry i can't eat, i'm so full of love, i can only hate.
it seems like i can't live, but i'm too afraid to die either.
this one wants me to lay down and never get up again, the other one wants me to run away as fast as my exhausted body parts can take me, just leave this place, these people, don't stay, never stop,
no wait, lay down, i'm gonna faint, i need to rest, i'm hungry, no i have to puke, i'm too full of nothing, give me more, give me less, leave me alone,come back, take everything away, i need more, i want everything, i want nothing, ever.
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i don't know what my fucking problem is. it feels different now. it always does. it always feels different than the time before but still familiar. like the funny feeling in your tummy is strange but you suddenly remember how sickness tastes. my body learns, and so does my mind, as soon as i accept a certain pain, i discover another way of hurting. i'm able to trick myself in a twisted, unhealthy way, when i'm struggeling to deal with that wound, as soon as i feel in control again, i find a new part to cut open.
i'm not really feeling sick right now, but my stomach hurts like the thought of him did yesterday, even though i took the pills, and i'm hot and sweaty and maybe i can just faint and everything will be black and calm.
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i'm so scared.i don't know what to do has become my first name
and helplessness my mothertounge.
i write it down to get it out of me, scrape it from the walls of my head, so i may feel alive again, like it's all just dead flowers and smeared make-up, art, melancholy, nothing more, nothing serious, totally in control.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
crying won't help, salt burns in open wounds.
some call it a desperate diary entry, some call it breathless bravery, some call it insightfull information,some call it pointless poetry, i call it a way of not losing my mind.
anxiety
,
depression
,
general trigger
,
Hi Jana
,
Hi Sabine
,
lili
,
panic attacks
,
tw: depression
How i feel now
It’s been over 2
months.
It didn’t felt like that much time at all. I still feel the same as before, but different at the same time. It’s so hard to explain.
What you experience at the place where I experienced my experience, is not even remotely comprehensible if you weren't there.
I feel so much better. Everything makes sense now. I feel like somebody finally understood what my problem was and even though I can’t be ‘cured’, I’m able to handle it now.
I’m gonna do things. I’m gonna do all the things.
Not today and not tomorrow, but eventually.
It will be painful and stressful and much more effort than I want it to be, but I’ll do everything I always wanted to do, because I deserve it and the demon inside of me won’t stop me. Not this time.
It’ll make me slow down and boycott me and oh boy it’ll make me suffer. But I’ll get through it and I will do it nevertheless at some point.
I’m not healed. I never will be. I didnt even rip off all my old, blooddrained band-aids, I didn’t dare to open up enough to let every nightmare out of my system. The poisen is still in me. And it will kill me, but not today and not tomorrow.
I used to say 'i’ll do it tomorrow’, I can’t do it today’ and now I’ll say ‘I’ll do it today,’ ‘there must be something I’m able to do today’ and i will say 'yes' and do it.
i'm full of new found hope and maybe my life won't be perfect, but it is worth living and it'll be the best life it can be.
That’s what you want to read.That’s what I want to write.
But the truth is:
I’m scared. I’m so fucking scared of being alone again, of being on my own, of moving out and fail doing those small things. I’m afraid of walking into the kitchen at 2am and opening the fridge and then closing it and sliding down to the floor and just suffering from existing with this ungraspable fear and loneliness inside of me.
I don’t think I can do any of the things other people do, i don't want to feel the way i feel anymore.
It’s so…complicated. I’m screaming at the top of my lungs at nothing, I’m crying hysterically at nothing, because there is nothing in front of me, that scares me in particular, it’s everything mushed together.
The great big ordinary. The daily life. Life.
It would be so much easier to accept my fears, if I had to face something scary and recognizable dangerous, a dragon, a monster, an operation, a trip, something that feels…more real.
Something that existed not only in my head.
It would be so much easier, if I could just point on the big angry dragon beside me and say:
'Sorry I seem to be a bit messed up, I’ve got this big mighty dragon I have to fight any minute now, excuse my shaky hands and my teary eyes.'
And they would understand and nod and maybe smile or in the best case scenario say: 'Oh I had to do that myself, I’ve got a bit of time on my hands, let me help you.'
But there is no dragon or event, there is just boredom and emptiness everywhere.
Nothing makes sense to me. Why would I want to move out and go to university and force myself to find the courage somewhere in me, scrape it from my insides, to get a job and do the groceries and got to bed early and to leave the bed again and eat?
It’s all so pointless. It’s so exhausting and I just can't do it.
‘Oh, that’s just depression talking out of you right now, life’s not that bad.’
Thanks. I know. Everybody knows. No matter what happens, if someone broke my heart or I can’t understand humanity and why we all have to fight eachother, everybody always answers ‘It’s just the depression, it’s not you talking, your mind is not in the right place’.
What does that even mean?
Does this sentence change everything?
Am i better now that I know that’s just an illness that clouds my judgement? What if my mind will never be 'in the right place'? Does this make everything i think worthless?
Maybe you are wrong. Maybe all of you are blind, because you can’t see what a shitty place this earth is and how absurd our behavior is.
Nobody seems to get that. Everyone is so busy thinking about their love life or their job or what to do tomorrow and i‘m sitting here like a stranger. I can’t relate to any of those thoughts.
I’ve always put everything off. I’d find friends next month, I’ll start studying next year,i'll shower tomorrow, I’ll leave my bed later- I hoped that inbetween now and then something great would happen.
The magical moment.
The stay in the clinic seemed to be that magical time where everything would be okay and I’d be so much better after that. I thought I’d go in there, broken, tired,almost dead, and come out newborn, full of energy and motivation, with a new mindset and positivity.
It obviously didn’t happen.
I didn’t even expected the full recovery, I just thought maybe I’ll learn some new technics to calm myself, just anything to cling on and not to get blown away by desperation
.
Yeah.
And here I am now.
It’s not the same at it was before. I’ve lost hope.
There’s nothing to look forward now.
That was my chance and it didn’t bring the change I wished for
.
I know this blog post leaves such a bad taste in your mouth, at least it does in mine, but I don’t want to pretend. “Tumblr” - here used as a representative of the spirit of this generation - states things like:
’Go get help,tell them how you feel, ask for help,show them who you truly are, seek help and that’s the first step of recovery, you’ll be okay!'
Maybe that’s right. But it’s only half the truth.
Of course, getting your diagnose and treatment is a big, important part, but it’s not a guarantee for anything.
You can take meds and see a therapist every day and still feel like shit and not get better. Some of us will never get better, because some mental illnesses are chronic and not just temporary.
Most of the time you won’t find a trauma that caused that crack in your brain and without an actual reason it’s hard to find a solution.
You can treat the symptoms, but without eliminating the trigger, you’ll never be "free”.
It sounds harsh and like something a frustrated teenager would write, but i'm not frustrated nor a teenager anymore.
That’s the way it is,at least from my perspective. You can sugarcoat it, but that’s just lying to yourself.
Sometimes all the help you get just isn’t enough.
You have to be strong enough and motivated enough to fight against it every day,you have to find the will to not give in and find happiness in in the small things of life, find every day something that makes you keep going - or you just give up.
I don’t know what to
do now.
What’s expected of me, what I want and what I need, are three different things.
I don’t feel better and I’m so fucking afraid of keep on living, I have no clue what to do or how to handle anything -
But I guess I’ll just carry on with life.
What’s expected of me, what I want and what I need, are three different things.
I don’t feel better and I’m so fucking afraid of keep on living, I have no clue what to do or how to handle anything -
But I guess I’ll just carry on with life.
"i promised my mother never to behave self-destructive again, so i left you"
ON BREAKING AND MISSING
I
poured myself into
I
poured myself into
you.
I
crushed my heart
and broke my thoughts down
so I could feed them to
you.
I
gave you all until I felt empty
because you gave me nothing back.
You
let me starve while eating my soul
and puked it right into my face later on.
I
never saw yours.
The more I trusted you, the more I could feel you leaving
and the more I opened up to you, the more I started to miss
you.
But now I think I gave too much of myself away and I'm just missing
me.
crushed my heart
and broke my thoughts down
so I could feed them to
you.
I
gave you all until I felt empty
because you gave me nothing back.
You
let me starve while eating my soul
and puked it right into my face later on.
I
never saw yours.
The more I trusted you, the more I could feel you leaving
and the more I opened up to you, the more I started to miss
you.
But now I think I gave too much of myself away and I'm just missing
me.
WAYS OF SELF-DESTRUCTION
1. The easiest way of suicide is falling in love and then crashing on reality
2. I have the choice whether I want to get smothered by the loneliness or suffocate when my oxygen leaves me again. And I chose to kill myself before anybody else gets the chance.
3. I guess that’s why some people hurt themselves, they rather slit their own wrists and watch the warm life and red passion stream out, than give somebody else the power to destroy them
4. Once life cut so deep in my veins, I called you crying for help and you came over and wrote a poem about the beauty of death, while I was dying.
5. My mother taught me that clinging on a life saver won’t teach you how to swim and that you’ll drown eventually
6. I can’t allow myself the pleasure of counting on someone, of depending on other people - ‘cause i know they gonna leave me and I’m so scared of having happiness in numbered days and then an eternity of sorrow
7. Dealing with the pain you caused is impossible, when you’re my only way of coping and that’s why people overdose on pills and sleep forever instead of staying awake and facing the dark
4. Once life cut so deep in my veins, I called you crying for help and you came over and wrote a poem about the beauty of death, while I was dying.
5. My mother taught me that clinging on a life saver won’t teach you how to swim and that you’ll drown eventually
6. I can’t allow myself the pleasure of counting on someone, of depending on other people - ‘cause i know they gonna leave me and I’m so scared of having happiness in numbered days and then an eternity of sorrow
7. Dealing with the pain you caused is impossible, when you’re my only way of coping and that’s why people overdose on pills and sleep forever instead of staying awake and facing the dark
4
LETTERS
Every time I heard your name and saw the wrong face, i started humming a Nick
Cave song, every time I read those four letters, I tried to carve them into my
flesh because I want to feel close to you again.
I ruined my Marc Jacobs dress , but I just kept bleeding through everything I wear, because Karl Lagerfeld and fashion can go to hell, I’ll be waiting there.
Remember how I wrote you 4 letters, feeling like John Keats, each one explaining how I can’t breathe without you being around and how I’m trying to burry my pain and how I fail at forgetting?
I ruined my Marc Jacobs dress , but I just kept bleeding through everything I wear, because Karl Lagerfeld and fashion can go to hell, I’ll be waiting there.
Remember how I wrote you 4 letters, feeling like John Keats, each one explaining how I can’t breathe without you being around and how I’m trying to burry my pain and how I fail at forgetting?
I've burned every single one of them, let the fire lick the letters of your name
from the page as if it could erase you from my memory as well - like Luke
Skywalker erased the death star from the universe - because I knew you would
have done the same if I’d ever sent them to you.
I’ve met 3 other people with your name since then, one looking like Finn Harries, one singing like Liam Payne and one as famous as Sean Connery, but I’d even ignore James Bond, because none of them are you.
I’ve met 3 other people with your name since then, one looking like Finn Harries, one singing like Liam Payne and one as famous as Sean Connery, but I’d even ignore James Bond, because none of them are you.
Those 4 letters bring this funny taste back into my mouth, sweet and salty,
sugar and tears, I know it’s blood because I bite my tongue to keep me from
screaming.
Change always bothered me, but since you left I can’t stand the stillness. I can’t stop moving or thinking or caring, oh I wish I could just stop caring, like Milo Ventimiglia as Jess Mariano never seemed to give a fuck. You are everywhere, every song is about you and i’m scared of turning on the radio because it might be a love song by Phil Collins and the only sound I want to hear is your voice again.
Change always bothered me, but since you left I can’t stand the stillness. I can’t stop moving or thinking or caring, oh I wish I could just stop caring, like Milo Ventimiglia as Jess Mariano never seemed to give a fuck. You are everywhere, every song is about you and i’m scared of turning on the radio because it might be a love song by Phil Collins and the only sound I want to hear is your voice again.
FIVE
I.
I’m one of those people, who care too much.
While you don’t care at all.
I’ll give you my whole arm, if you need a hand.
I’ll like you from the start and until the end and way too intense.
I’ll grab the numbers out of the clock and stop the sun from setting and the moon from rising with my bare hands,
just for you.
I’ll think about you, and talk about you and just wanna be with you all the time.
While you don’t care at all.
I’ll give you my whole arm, if you need a hand.
I’ll like you from the start and until the end and way too intense.
I’ll grab the numbers out of the clock and stop the sun from setting and the moon from rising with my bare hands,
just for you.
I’ll think about you, and talk about you and just wanna be with you all the time.
II.
Once you betray me, hurt me, disrespect me or make me stop loving myself,
like you stopped loving me,
I’ll kick you the fuck out of my life and out of my body like a cell of cancer.
I’ll cut you off like a diseased limp.
I’ll bleed to death, just to get every piece of you out of my system.
I’ll change my name and face just to cut the association with the person in all those pictures with you, I write our
story down and burn the book, like it’s a way I could erase our past from the world.
like you stopped loving me,
I’ll kick you the fuck out of my life and out of my body like a cell of cancer.
I’ll cut you off like a diseased limp.
I’ll bleed to death, just to get every piece of you out of my system.
I’ll change my name and face just to cut the association with the person in all those pictures with you, I write our
story down and burn the book, like it’s a way I could erase our past from the world.
III.
I may come back to you, after the sea is calm again, after the waves of hate and pain have left me, just like you did.
I’ll give you a second chance. I’ll give you a third chance.
I’ll hand them out like flyer for the party that might be my life, if I could only have you back in it.
I forget the bad memories, paint you with red tears and lonely sunday afternoons on my wrist, hoping the picture
in my head of you could just come alive.
I’ll change the world for you, I’ll change me for you.
I’ll give you a second chance. I’ll give you a third chance.
I’ll hand them out like flyer for the party that might be my life, if I could only have you back in it.
I forget the bad memories, paint you with red tears and lonely sunday afternoons on my wrist, hoping the picture
in my head of you could just come alive.
I’ll change the world for you, I’ll change me for you.
IV.
Then at some point, I’ll let it be.
Because you let me down.
I'm touching the dark fire and feel the burning cold lighten me up
I’m always saying this, that I’ll leave you, give up and stop caring and I never do it,
but one time, after months, maybe years, I will stop dropping everything for you,
pick up my scrambled thoughts like broken eggs, which I’ve bleed out 5 times, since I last saw you
I’m leaving you behind and move on with different people.
Because you let me down.
I'm touching the dark fire and feel the burning cold lighten me up
I’m always saying this, that I’ll leave you, give up and stop caring and I never do it,
but one time, after months, maybe years, I will stop dropping everything for you,
pick up my scrambled thoughts like broken eggs, which I’ve bleed out 5 times, since I last saw you
I’m leaving you behind and move on with different people.
V.
boyfriend
,
break up
,
general trigger
,
lili
,
love
,
poem
,
poetry
,
tw: selfharm
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