Holding on and letting go

Years ago, I lived in a village where I attempted to commit suicide twice, lost a friend when she killed herself, sank deep into several mental disorders for the first time, was hospitalized for the first couple times and completely lost myself. Today, I went back to this village to see the last friend from this time I’m still holding on to. I’d gone back there before and hadn’t been able to handle it at all which had resulted in a mental breakdown, but I promised myself it would be different this time.
I promised myself I’d make it through.
And guess what?
I did.
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Can’t say it wasn’t hard, though, because it was. I took a train and therefore passed by all those places I’ve tried so hard to forget but couldn’t. There is the school where I was bullied and where I wrote my name on a wall a day before trying to kill myself, the train stations where I thought about throwing myself on the tracks, the spot where I actually almost succeeded, the streets I wandered lost at night, the house where I binged, purged, self-harmed and starved for the first time while living there at the age of eleven and the houses of friends who left me alone when I needed them the most.
I saw the place where I went to die for the first time.
Can you imagine that?
Almost nothing has changed where my life once fell apart. One of my old school buildings where I used to take some classes is gone, and they’ve built several shelters for refugees near the train station, but that’s it and that’s what almost tore me apart- again.
But I swore to myself I’d hold on this time and would not give in to the pain inside of me. When I felt the first tears burning in my eyes like acid, I swallowed hard, lifted my chin, closed my eyes and held on. And I managed to spend all day in this village without falling apart. I kept telling myself I’m different today, a different person living a different life. I’m not weak anymore and I don’t hide anymore either. I’m strong and I know I can make it. Hell, I haven’t recovered, not at all, and I need to admit that I’m afraid I’ll never be able to recover completely, but today I know that there’s always a reason to keep going and nothing is ever so bad that it’s not worth staying strong.
I realized that, no matter how terrible many days have been again lately, I can still get better and there are still good days worth fighting for. I still hate myself and I could cry every time I look into the mirror, but I don’t let that stop me.
I’m different today.
I’m a mom, a young woman, recovering and relapsing, strong and independent, I know what and who I want and need and how to get it. I know what’s good for me and what’s not and what’s most important…
Unlike back then, I know when I need to hold on and when it’s smarter to let go.

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Just remember, even your worst days only have 24 hours.


I was so sure.

That’s what they’re telling me
But I just can’t calm down

I know it’s what I need
But I just don’t know how

All these voices get so loud
But they still can’t drown the sound
Of me knowing this is all my fault
We’re still too young, this is too much
But I still know that there must
Have been something that I could have done

I was so sure
But I fell short
I thought I’d stand tall and shake the ashes off
I told myself that I could be strong
I was so sure

My words are failing me
When did we become so numb?

Don’t tell me anything
The past can’t be undone

All these voices get so loud
But they still can’t drown the sound
Of the fact that everything has changed
We’re still too young, this is too much
I was naive and out of touch
I was so sick of always needing saved

I was so sure
But I fell short
I thought I’d stand tall and shake the ashes off
I told myself that I could be strong
I was so sure

That’s what they’re telling me
But I just don’t know how

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You wouldn’t understand, so what’s the use?

Depression sucks. Yeah, I know that’s nothing new. But the worst thing about depression is not the disease itself but that it always comes back. I felt so good for so many months. For the first time, I could honestly answer “I’m fine” when people asked me how I was feeling. But then it happened. I went back to school and fell apart all over again. I don’t want any fucking pity, but it’s just not fair, you know? You fight for years and then you think it’s finally over and you finally get to be happy and then… it’s all gone. And you feel like dying again. There’s this pain inside of me and it won’t go away, regardless of what I do. I try so hard, but it won’t change anything.

I had everything. And lost it all.


I wish I could just give up. Stop trying. Stop fighting. I feel like shit and all I can do is feel it. I wake up every morning and I get up and get through the day and I’m scared I might collapse the next second because I don’t think I can make it through. And somehow I do because I keep my shit together and don’t show how I feel. Sure, I could tell about my feelings. But nobody would understand, so what’s the use? Depression is so hard to understand because it’s invisible. The other people around you don’t have any proof that you’re actually sick even though you are. And you could tell them about it. I did. But the only reactions I got were pity, dumb questions or how I could even be depressed because my life is s great now. Yeah, thanks, I’m aware of that. I know my life is great. I have almost everything I wanted and I love my family and especially my son more than anything, but I’m still not happy.


People tell me we just need to BE happy because we’re the ones to choose how we want to feel, but they seem to forget that we’re not happy because we didn’t choose to be but because we’re sick. We all want to be happy, but we somehow can’t. It’s all in my head, I know, but that doesn’t make it any less real. God, I want to be happy more than anything (I mean, who likes feeling like shit?), but all I feel is this hopelessness. I still keep going because of my son, but if he wasn’t here, I’d give up and let the shit in my head take over. I’d let myself drown in it because it’s so much easier and fighting obviously won’t get me anywhere either. I’m not doing this for myself anymore because it looks like I can’t be saved. I know that the only one who can save me is me, but I do everything I can and I still don’t feel better. I use skills, do things that make me happy, try to focus on better stuff, distract myself, spend all of my time with my son , mom and sister and I don’t feel any better. I’m not suicidal or feel like harming myself anymore (the last time was almost two years ago), but I feel like drowning and there’s no way to learn how to swim. Why is there such a thing called depression? Why am I suffering from this disorder? I know it all started with my eating disorder which I developed because my dad has always made me feel like I’ll never be good enough (and even though he’s gone, I still can’t get that pattern out of my head), but WHY? I know people who had to go through much worse stuff and they don’t have any disorders. Why do I have it? And why can’t I recover? My counselor keeps telling me these things take time, but it’s been more than half a decade and I’m tired and sick of it. There is nothing more exhausting, nothing harder than fighting your thoughts. Since the relapse started, I’ve been so extremely tired that I could basically sleep anywhere if I let myself. ‘Normal’ people don’t know what it’s like to fight your own mind 24/7. To feel like you’re losing yourself, to feel trapped in your emptiness.


To stand in front of the mirror and hate every single inch of yourself and you want to fall on your knees and cry until your throat is sore, but you know that would only make things worse, so you don’t. Instead, you breathe deeply and tell yourself not to let it take over. To stay strong. You’re still alive, right? But can you stay strong? Is it even possible? Just smile, you think. Smile and they’ll think you’re alright. Don’t tell them the truth because they wouldn’t understand. They’d think you’re mad, ungrateful, a bad mom or overreacting, right? So just keep your mouth shut and act like everything is fine. Because it has to be. There’s no other way. Life isn’t fair.



Slipping away

How can I say this without breaking?
How can I say this without taking over?
How can I put it down into words
When it’s almost too much for my soul alone?

Do you know this feeling when you’re with other people and everything is fine and you’re feeling alright and then they leave and you’re sitting there and notice how you fall apart completely? You realize it, but you can’t do anything about it? Can’t stop it? That’s what’s happening to me right now. And the thing is, I know what I could do about it. All those skills and positive activities and that kind of crap they teach you to do and use in the hospitals and loony bins. But to be honest, I just don’t have any energy left to do these things. They tell you to pour your energy into everything you love and be passionate and full of whatever kind of shit, so I poured and poured and poured and now the metaphoric cup is empty. And I don’t know what to do about it. Like I just said, I know how to distract myself, but that doesn’t really change anything. I don’t know what I need to actually change my condition, but maybe it’s just a little break from things. You know, to get back my energy. But there’s no way for me to do that. There’s just too much shit I need to handle, so I wake up every day feeling like I just wanna hide under my bed forever, but I don’t, so instead I get up and get through the day, get things done, smile and go to bed and hope to fall asleep before I fall apart. There’s no other way and no other option left for me. I need to make it through. And sometimes I wanna tell the people I love that I feel like shit, but that’s not gonna change anything. They’ll either treat me like a child or a victim and I’ll drown in their pity, they’ll feel insecure and uncomfortable and won’t know what to do or I’ll get to hear extremely helpful things like ‘Don’t be down in the mouth!’ or ‘It’s just a bad day!’. And they’re right, but that doesn’t change things or help me somehow anyway. So I smile and tell them I’m fine. Makes it easier.
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I love my son so much and I need to make it through- for him. I need to be there for him, be happy for him, recover for him, go to counseling for him, get my shit handled, smile, breathe, do all the shit I don’t want to do, study, focus, go to school, pass the finals, get my degree, never get enough sleep, never relax, put all this pressure on me and just get through everything. Because I don’t have a choice. I want him to be proud of me, be proud of myself, be a good role model, be happy and get the life I’ve always wanted- the life that I deserve after everything I’ve been through. All these years I’ve fought so hard and the effort I put into this struggle- I don’t want it to be a total waste of time. I know I can do this. I just don’t know how. How do you get through the day without falling apart when you feel like there’s nothing left of you? Like you’re empty and hollow?
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I just want this to be over, I want to appreciate my life and myself and stop hating myself (especially my body) so fucking much. I just want to be enough for at least once. People tell me to think positive, but how am I supposed to do that? Believe me, I’ve tried everything. But I still feel like crap on a regular basis. Everything is fine, so why do I feel like losing everything? I’m a good mom, a good person, daughter and student and I’m doing a really great job at recovering from my disorders because I never give up and always keep going (no matter how hard it is), so why do I still feel these emotions I can’t even specify? Why are my disorders always stronger than me? I really don’t wanna be a whiny weak loser, but I can’t deal with this crap in my head.
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Do you know what it’s like?

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.


Sane is something I will never be
Scarred to the core
Battling the devil that lives inside of me
But bleeding out the pain is how
I clearly see
Silence, secrets
Things I can’t openly say
Or I’m labeled psychotic
In a padded room
Wondering how I let it get this way
Laying here where they left me corrupted
So mentally fucked up
Cold sharp tears
That are replaced with blood
Trapped in my own mind
Banging on the edge
To be set free
But it’s apparent
Nobody’s worried about me
And I was left to bleed
Mentally, physically and internally…


Free again bitches!

I spent a few days in a mental hospital again (for the sixth time), but this time they let me go after only three days. I’ve never had that much luck in psychiatries before. You can’t imagine how glad I am to be home again. It’s so awful in there, like jail for crazy people. My psychologist sent me there because I was very suicidal again and planned on killing myself again. But for the very first time in my entire life, I was the one who told the truth that I want to do it and need to be protected from myself. I’ve never been ‘the voluntary one’ in there before. Strange feeling. But I’m very proud of myself for being able to speak up when I needed help because it has always been difficult for me to seek for help and especially appreciate it. But this time I did it and now I’m still alive and I definitely don’t regret that.
Nobody wants to die, we all just want to kill the pain and I’ll try to do that without harming myself. Let’s give it my best shot. I’ll make it, somehow. The extreme ups and downs when it comes to my mood are very exhausting and complicated and I know it’s because of this fucking borderline syndrome that turns feelings into a thunderstorm of confusing shit, but that doesn’t mean I’ll always let this shit control me. I’ll find a way to deal with this because I’ve survived way too much to die now from these stupid disorders. I was able to say that I need help, I got the help, was protected and now I’m better and I’m able to take care of myself again which is why I’m already at home.
Now it’s my task to take the next step that leads me to the healthy life I’ve always wanted and never had- but I will reach it. Because I’ll keep going and stay fucking strong. I’ll show my dead best friend that suicide is never the answer and you can also find happiness in another way. I’ll show her that it’s possible to live and not just survive. There will be a lot of relapses and now I’m finally able to accept them, but I won’t let them tear me down again. I’ll make it through. I had so much time and boredom in the funny farm, so I also decided to invent some new rules. I call them the ‘top ten rules for recovery’ and I’d like to share them with you. Maybe it’s an inspiration for other crazy guys out there who want to be happy one day and are willing to fight for it. We never chose our disorders, but we can choose recovery if we keep believing in ourselves.

1: stay strong
(example: don’t harm yourself in any way)
2: keep going
(don’t give up)
3: allow relapses
(they are part of recovery)
4: use skills
(don’t let disorders control you)
5: spend time with the loved ones
6: accept and appreciate help
(sometimes you need it)
7: eat healthy
(do not starve, binge or purge)
8: focus on goals and take the necessary steps to reach them
(in my case: graduate high school to be able to go to college)
9: accept limits
(there are rules and you can’t do anything)
10: value your whole self: personality, character and body

No conscience but an addiction to pain

The last few days were really strange and it seems like normality doesn’t want to show up again. My mood goes up and down like a roller coaster. And the most important thing is that I don’t know what’s happening to me.
I’ve changed and I’m not sure if in a good or a bad way. Until yesterday, I didn’t even realize it. I’ve turned into a girl I never wanted to be. What’s wrong with me? What am I doing? I love the the ones that hurt me and hurt the ones that love me. Why?
When I was small, I only had three rules for my life: no drugs (no matter if legal or illegal), no betrayal and I promised myself to marry the one man I wanted to be with forever and have kids with. I broke every single rule.
That’s the strange thing about my behavior: when my disorders take over me, I harm myself, when I feel good, I harm others. It’s like I can’t live without causing pain.
And even worse: I never regret anything. The only moments when I experience regret is when it’s got to do something with food. (Like eating ‘too much’)
Is the only love I’m capable of the love for my sister?
I fucking hate being unaware, but I don’t have a clue about myself.
Yesterday, I betrayed my boyfriend. We’ve been together for 2 months so far and we didn’t have sex yet because I can’t sleep with anyone without drugs like alcohol or weed (reason: rape) and he didn’t want to have sex with me in that way and I was so happy to finally have a guy who’s able to wait. The last guy I had fucked another girl because I didn’t want it with him.
And now, for the very first time in my life I have such an honest guy and then I do something like this! Dear conscience, why don’t you exist in my life? Afterwards, I realized I had made a mistake, but I didn’t care and we had our fun for the second time. That’s what I don’t understand: I don’t want to hurt him, but I do it anyway and don’t even feel bad about it! I even promised my best friend I’d never sleep with him because she had already done that and for some reason I don’t understand she doesn’t want two girls to have sex with the same guy. She made out with me, her best friend, but she cares about something like that? She doesn’t even know the man we both had sex with, only his name and that he is really, really good in the bedroom although he doesn’t look that good.
I mean, he wasn’t that good that I was able to have an orgasm, but actually the only person who was ever able to cause an orgasm in my body was myself.
Which is pretty sad.
I never wanted to hurt the very first honest guy in my life, but I did it anyway without regretting it. I’ll do it again tomorrow because I’ll celebrate Sylvester with the same man and we’ll definitely drink something and then we’ll both want each other again. (Although we both don’t have feelings and would never want to have a relationship- it’s more like in ‘friends with benefits’ without the romantic ending.)
I’m addicted to causing pain. If I don’t hurt myself, I hurt others and I’m not sure which one is worse because I only hurt the ones who don’t deserve it.
I’m a slut, okay. But I never wanted to become this bad person I am today.
All I’ve wanted was to be the good girl my parents always wanted me to become.
But the opposite happened.
Now I have a couple of mental disorders and a trauma, lost my best friend, hurt myself and others, betray, cheat, drink, smoke and lie. I started to do drugs to be a rebel because my mom always controlled everything I did, but then I suddenly couldn’t stop and it became even worse. The disorders are already bad enough and I make it even worse with this behavior!
Guess I’ve lost myself some years ago.
At the beginning, I wanted to be happy, then thin, then perfect, then different than others, then a bad girl and then I wanted to be dead. And all these goals still exist in my head. Now I realized most of these things are no goals, but only a way to destroy myself and the people in my life. Still I’m not able to stop.
I tried, yes, but I can’t! I need to see the pain I cause. Right now I remember that my boyfriend knows about my blog and may read this post, but I smile while thinking about that! I like to imagine the hurt feeling in this dark eyes…
I’m a bad person and I lost myself, but I don’t regret anything at all.
What the fuck is wrong with me.
Yesterday I was able to eat and didn’t harm myself and felt good and then I betrayed my boyfriend and my best friend, too.
I’m honestly the most confusing person I’ve ever met.
Nothing in my head makes any sense.
And then I wonder why I always stay alone in the end.
Nonsense. Sometimes I wish there was a God who could help me, but he never was and never will be. Just an illusion mankind created to give themselves some hope. Otherwise they wouldn’t be able to make it through.
Wait. If that’s the definition of what a God is useful for, my pills are my Gods.
Lol. I imagine myself praying to my colorful little pills… I’m getting crazier every day…

I feel like a chameleon in a bag of skittles: confused like shit.

Me on We Heart It!

Hey guys! Some of you may know or might even use http://www.weheartit.com, so I’d like to tell you about my account there. My name is Poizonbite and it’s based on my second home, Milwaukee in Wisconsin. (Right now I live in my headquarters in Munich, Germany)

We Heart It is similar to Tumblr, but I prefer it to that page. I post pictures and gifs about my mental disorders, dark thoughts, recovery and my addiction to The Vampire Diaries and American Horror Story there. So take a look, hope you like it!