I wrote this for some bitch whom I told that I’m suffering from an eating disorder and depression and a few other things she answered something like this: where is your problem? Stop exaggerating. We all diet sometimes and during puberty, everyone has breakdowns and a mood that goes up and down and sometimes even sadness for no reason.
Later I told her about losing my best friend and her answer was: well, everyone dies sooner or later. And by the way, suicide is an act of cowardice anyway. I could also name other things she caricatured, but I guess it’s not necessary cuz you already got the point.
And all that shit coming out of her mouth pissed me off so damn much, but I have manners and higher standards, so I responded this instead of giving her medical definitions she wouldn’t care about anyway:
“Do you know what it’s like when:
– you wake up and want to die
– you slit up your own skin because you think you deserve the pain
– you stick your finger in your throat after every single meal
– you’re scared to leave your bed
– you go to bed and wish you’d never wake up again
– you feel like your skin is burning all the time
– you have nightmares about your future
– you’re rotting from the inside
– all you can think about is death
– you want to kill everyone you love
– you’re scared to even touch food
– you hate every inch of your body
– your body is your worst enemy
– you don’t feel anything at all for weeks expect this endless emptiness
– you don’t even feel physical pain anymore
– you can’t live without pills
– you’re scared to get close but hate being alone
– the most important person in your life dies
– you’re always alone
– no one can help you
– even doctors say it’s hopeless
– you don’t know what happiness feels like
– you feel the urge to kill everyone cuz you think all people are bad
– you can never trust anyone
– all you focus on is trying to numb the pain inside
– the pain is with you all the time
– no matter how good you feel, a part of you always stays dead
– you’d give everything in the world to talk to someone for one last time
– every height, knife or street is a temptation
– you only feel good while hurting others
– you can’t live with yourself
– you feel guilty for every single bite
– you want to punish yourself even though you don’t even have a reason for it
If you don’t, you should better shut the fuck up because you have no idea what you’re actually talking about. And you should be happy about that.
Mental illnesses are demons in your head and they try to kill you every day. Be glad you’re happy and normal, but don’t you dare to stultify people who are suffering from these things.
Sincerely, the ‘stupid little exaggerating girl'”
I know this was sort of exaggerating, but I couldn’t have made my point so clear otherwise.
Right now I feel like crying but I can’t because I’m sitting in a train.
I’m mentally completely fucked up. What is wrong with me? WHAT?
There are all these stones in my soul, every stone has its story and weighs me down. There may be gold hidden by rock and sand, but I’ll have to search even harder to find them now. And I don’t think I’m strong enough for that. Sharp as a marble these stones keep my feet on the ground and I just can’t get rid of them…
I’m crazy, sick, insane, out of my mind.
The man I’ve loved for 2 years now just kissed me and I’m sadder than ever even though I love him more than anything.
Why do I feel this way? Something is seriously wrong with me and I’m not talking about my depression or my eating disorder or my borderline syndrome or any of the other shit the doctors diagnosed. I mean, all I waited for was him to kiss me and now I want to rip the veins out of my arms just to see my body hemorrhage. I can’t live with myself.
Does he even love me? Does he want me back? Does he want to sleep with me? Does he want to be with me? He gave me all his love and all I gave him was goodbye and when I came back to him, he didn’t want me anymore. That was in 2014, now it’s 2015 and he told me he still loves me, but… I don’t know if that’s true.
I want him. I need him. His eyes have told a thousand lies, but I believe them when they look in mine.
I miss his soft skin, his sweet smile, so good to me, so right and how he held me in his arms that September night, the first time he ever saw me cry. Maybe this is wishful thinking, probably mindless dreaming, but if we loved again, I swear I’d love him right. Because I can’t lose him again. I wish I had realized what I had when he was mine.
He and my sister are the only persons in this world that make this life worth living.
Why do I still want this guy? And why do I want to die after kissing him?
Could someone please just tell me what is so fucking wrong with my head?
Please, doctors, tell me because I can’t keep living like this anymore, I honestly can’t!
I wish they’d just lock me up again and give me stronger meds to keep me asleep forever. Or even better: an accidentally overdose.
Come on, take a look at my body, look at my hands, there’s so much here that I don’t understand. I’ve been treated so wrong, I’ve been treated so long as if I’m becoming untouchable. Well, contempt loves the silence, it thrives in the dark, the fine winding tendrils that strangle the heart. They say that promises sweeten the blow, but I don’t need them. I’m a slow dying flower in the frost killing hour, sweet turning sour and untouchable.
I need the darkness, the sweetness, the sadness, the weakness, oh I need this, I need a lullaby, a kiss goodnight, an angel, sweet love of my life…
Do you remember the way that you touched me before?
All the trembling sweetness I loved and adored.
When it’s dark enough, can you see me? Do you want me? Can you reach me?
Or I’m leaving, then you shut your mouth and hold your breath, I kiss you now and catch my death…
No matter how hard I try or how good I feel, there’s this pain inside of me and the pain is with me all the time. And then there’s you, my dilemma. I know you’re not good for me and this is not meant to be, but you’re my dilemma and one half of me wants ya while the other half wants to forget… There’s a reason that you’re still here in my heart, a reason why I still press your letters to my lips and cherish them in parts of me that savor every kiss, a reason why I couldn’t face a life without your light. What is this reason? Is it my own insanity?
I don’t know. Maybe I never will. My mind is killing me. Maybe my best friend could help me or at least understand me because she was the only one who could ever understand me, but… Even if she was here, I couldn’t see her. I will never see her beautiful face again. The dead are living, but we can’t see them, we never will.