fromthediningroomtable

[fromthediningroomtable]

someone who loves you wouldn’t do this.

[fromthediningroomtable]

I want to be up there.

Floating weightlessly next to Andromeda and Orion, watching Hercules fight his heroic battles amongst the galaxies. Deep down I know that they are just flaming balls of gas, but I can't help but find comfort in the stories written by humanity to grasp the things that they could not quite understand. 

[fromthediningroomtable]

it’s getting bad again.

[fromthediningroomtable]

i’m so fucking miserable all of the time.

[fromthediningroomtable]

You are miserable. Nobody wants you around.

[fromthediningroomtable]

this pit in my stomach just won’t go away. i want it all to stop. please.

[fromthediningroomtable]

I am in a constant state of having to justify myself to those who should take me as I am.

[fromthediningroomtable]

the sex sucked, but the company was nice.

[fromthediningroomtable]

fuck, it feels like nothing. felt like nothing.

[fromthediningroomtable]

i’m just so tired.

[fromthediningroomtable]

I lost my religion when I wrote down prayers in a little prayer box and none of them were answered. No one was there.

[fromthediningroomtable]

give me back to myself, i’m begging.

[fromthediningroomtable]

it’s dark, cold, and lonely in this hole im in.

i can’t seem to find my way out.

my fingertips are stained with blood from clawing at the walls, longing for escape.

i am a hollow body.

echoes of my past flow through me like wind through leaves.

sanity slips from me along with my ragged breaths, intertwined with the desire to escape at all.

i lay helpless and faint, accepting that i will never, ever find my way out.

[fromthediningroomtable]

You weren’t there when I snuck a plastic knife under the table and started sawing at my wrist.

You weren’t there when I found a hair clip and obsessively tried to break it to get the sharp metal piece to harm myself.

You weren’t there when I was heaving on the shower floor trying to throw up everything in my stomach.

You weren’t there when I blacked out and started slicing my wrist with a razor.

You weren’t there when I tried to hang myself from my door handle.

You weren’t there when I took almost all of your pills.

You weren’t there when I passed out on the bathroom floor.

You weren’t there when I woke up the next morning crying because I was still alive.

You weren’t there when I wrote my suicide notes to everyone I know.

You weren’t there when I sat on that hospital bed talking to a social worker.

You. Weren’t. There.

So don’t ever act like you know what I have been through.

[fromthediningroomtable]

it’s getting bad again. i just feel like this is never going to end.

[fromthediningroomtable]

there isn’t enough love in the world to save me from the hatred for myself

[fromthediningroomtable]

i don’t think people will ever realise how serious, dehabilitating, draining ocd is.

it’s not all about lining things up and washing your hands

it’s about the convincing yourself you’re something awful.

compulsions that are time consuming and draining.

it’s the constant worry you’ve done or said something to offend someone.

it’s the co morbid disorders like trichotillomania, misophonia and more just draining you more.

it’s the constant “just rights”.

it’s the permanent engraved intrusive thoughts that are constantly replaying.

it’s the constant seeking reassurance.

it’s about living in fear because you’re so scared you’ll act out on an intrusive thought.

it’s the constant dread and anxiety.

so so many more.

why, what and how would you want this disorder

why are you romanticising this