Midnight thoughts

I write because writing is my only escape. I need that escape, as my mind is submerged in a pool of darkness and I am too tired to swim. By tired, I mean sick. I am sick, broken, numb. I no longer get the taste for love, happiness and sadness. I wake up every morning struggling to get out of bed, I realise my passion is dying, becoming emotionless and hollow. I rise like a zombie in the night. For I am a creature of the bight. The demons that robbed me of my emotions thrive in the dark but not in the daylight where they can be seen. By seen I mean noticed. I float around hoping someone will notice that I need help. But no. I have sunk too far from any ability to speak my mind now. Each day I go deeper and deeper into my unhappy pool of darkness deeper into my mind….deeper into my skin. And just as I think it is getting better like I’m floating to the surface, I dive back in again only this time I go deeper. The blade drowns in my blood as it gushes out and now I’m lost. I’m lost, sick and tired. And I let myself drown. 

Possessed by Depression

I miss who I used to be. I miss her oh so dearly. She tries to come back now and then.. but the possession of this new girl is so deep in.

They suffocate one another. Constantly, endlessly, until one overrules the other.

Things I tell myself on repeat

Today is not your day to give up.

Sometimes I can’t help but to feel as if I’m of so little importance in this world and to the people in it. Like I could just disappear and nobody would even notice.

I tried. I really did. But I can't no more.

It hurts being able to love everything so deeply, because you pour yourself into everything and everyone, but at the end of the day you always find yourself alone and empty, because no one else is willing to pour their love into you.

Reassurance is the best.

When someone reminds you of how important you are to them, how they still care for and love you, it’s like so much weight has been lifted off of your shoulders. A big relief that they’re still there. Reassuring, it’s a good feeling.

Anxiety.

It is like I feel fine. Like I have had a good day then I start to over-analyse every single thing. Every conversation I have had. Everything I have said and done. Do people not like me because of stupid stuff. It’s uncontrollable. I feel like everyone hates me.

Mummy knows best.

When I think back to the past about things that have occurred to me, relationships, incidents, study, anything bad really. I could have prevented it because mummy had already foretold what was going to happen and had given me her wise words of advice yet I chose to go against it and not listen. But I know now to listen to what she has to say because her intentions are not to be a party pooper, but to keep me safe. Mummy probably knows what I am going through at each phase of my life, I think her 2cents comes from experience.

Today I turn 23 years old.

I am rebuilding my career.

I have absolutely no romantic prospects.

But you know what?

I know who the fuck I am.

That will always be enough.