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Jun 18, 2014

Never really hit me this hard till now,
I really do hate me

Jun 18, 2014

I hate my life, I hate my life, I hate my life just one huge fucking replay through my thoughts over and over again-

You never loved me.

You loved having a sense of purpose;
you loved being the hero.
(155/365) by (DS)
Jun 17, 2014 / 849 notes
Jun 15, 2014 / 13,177 notes
silly-luv:

♡ find your best posts on my blog ♡
Jun 15, 2014 / 1,337 notes

silly-luv:

♡ find your best posts on my blog ♡

(via cutmeandwatchmebleed)

I check my Facebook page 36 times a day for the sole purpose of making sure I have not accidentally posted a nude photo of myself

I reread an email 13 times before pressing send to ensure I have not written something in the email that could convict me of a crime

Before taking a stage when asked if I allow flash photography I always want to say “No” because I’m terrified flash photography will give me epilepsy

I know it doesn’t work like that, still

I never eat nuts on an airplane out of fear of that I will suddenly develop a nut allergy and if I have to asphyxiate I don’t want it to happen at 30,000 feet

Twice in the last two years I’ve been aborted from an airplane for running screaming down the aisles as the plane was taking off

I can’t walk through San Francisco without worrying my indigestion is the beginning of an earthquake
I brace for tsunamis beside lakes in Colorado
I’m not joking
The last time I saw Niagara Falls I couldn’t take it
It was too much much
I had to plug my ears to look at it and close my eyes to listen

Generally I can’t do all my senses at the same time they are too much much

Like if you touch me without warning, whoever you are, it will take everything I have to not hate you

Imagine your hands are electrical sockets and I am constantly aware that I am 70% water
it’s not that I’ve not tried to build a dam

Ask my therapist who pays her mortgage
My cost of living went up
at five years old when I told my mother I have to stop going to birthday parties because every time I hear a balloon pop I feel like I’m gonna get murdered in the heart

Last year a balloon popped on the stage where I was performing, I started crying in front of the whole crowd
plugged my ears and kept repeating the word “LOUD LOUD LOUD LOUD” it was super sexy

That’s what I do
I do super sexy

Like when I asked the super cute barista 11 times ‘are you sure this is decaffeinated? Are you sure this is decaffeinated? Are you sure that’- yes I drink decaffeinated and still jitter like a bug running from the bright bright bright

I have spent years of my life wearing a tight rubber band hidden beneath my hair so my brain could have a hug

These days when no one’s looking I wear a fuzzy fitted winter hat that buttons tight beneath the chin

I only ever wear a tie so that when I convince myself I’m choking my senses have something they are certain they can blame

As a kid I was so certain I would die the way of meteor falling on my head
I would go whole weeks without looking at the sky ‘cause I didn’t want to witness the coming of my own death

I started tapping the kitchen sink seven times to build a shield

My mother started making lists of everything I thought would kill me in hopes that if I saw my fears they would disappear
Bless her heart but the first time I saw that list I started filling a salad bowl with bleach and soaking my shoe laces overnight so in the morning when I ironed them they would be so bright I would be certain I had control over
how much dark could break into my light
how much jack hammer could break into my heart
My spine it has always been a lasso that could never catch my breath

I honestly can’t imagine how it would feel to walk into a room full of people and not feel the roof collapsing on my ‘NO NO NO I am not fine’

Fine is the suckiest word
it never tells the truth

And more than anything I have ever been afraid of I am terrified of lies
How they war the world
How they sound by our tongues
How they bone dry the marrow

How did we get through high school without being taught Dr. King spent two decades having panic attacks?
Avoided Windows
Jumped at thunder

I think we are all part flight the fight
part run for your life
Part ‘please please please like me’
Part Can’t breathe
Part scared to say you’re scared
Part say it anyway

You panic button collector
You clock of beautiful ticks
You run out the door if you need to
You flock to the front row of your own class
You feather everything until you know you can always, always shake like a leaf on my family tree and know you belong here

You belong here and everything you feel is okay
Everything you feel is okay

"Panic Button Collector" - Andrea Gibson

This is the best poem about anxiety that I have ever read.

(via thinkmewhole)

(via holding-you-down)

Jun 14, 2014 / 21,259 notes
Jun 7, 2014 / 2,607 notes
Jun 3, 2014 / 2 notes
I felt crazy, because I’m not normal, I’m depressed, and plain lives in me, and I can’t escape it. That’s the sad thing. No one takes it seriously
ill-rememb3r-youu
May 19, 2014 / 5 notes
fabulusly:

and this is what pain does to people.
Apr 16, 2014 / 40,540 notes

fabulusly:

and this is what pain does to people.

(via m0rgue-wh0re)

Apr 7, 2014 / 204,481 notes

highcutie:

have you ever cried so hard it physically hurts your stomach because you wanted no one to hear

(via highcutie)

Mar 29, 2014 / 1 note

My life has been nothing but wanting to be alone but not lonley

and now that I actually look at it, I have no one, nothing

So I guess because it’s invisible, either way you lose, right? Because if you don’t talk about it, no one even knows you’re suffering, you’re just expected to deal with it, and if you do, you’re labelled as attention seeking,overdramatic, and sometimes crazy?
my dad said this last night and i nearly cried because!!! he gets it!!!  (via gracesoglorious)

(via holding-you-down)

Mar 29, 2014 / 1,372 notes
Mar 29, 2014 / 10,885 notes
Mar 9, 2014 / 403,079 notes

(via sofianorden)