I’m just using this blog to vent. Still in-between the idea of:‘God. I’m fucked up and need an actual Therapist.’Or‘Suck it up, Princess. It wasn’t that bad.’ Regarding my past.
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“Well I looked my demons in the eyes laid bare my chest, said “do your best, destroy me, you see I’ve been to hell and back so many times I must admit you kind of bore me.”
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I don't know how many times I survived myself without telling anyone.
-V. J.
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something i realized over the years is that despite wanting to kill myself, i don't actually wanna die. far from it actually. i want to live. i want to experience all the things i always wanted to do. i want to see the world. i want to look in the mirror one day and say "im happy i stayed". i want to get better. i want to live a life free from the shackles this mental illness has kept me in. but sometimes that darkness in my brain just overtakes that hope for a better future and all i'm left with is the thought that it will never get better.
— i want to live, but not like this.
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if you raised a child who is afraid of you and afraid of your reactions to things they do or mistakes they make you fucked up and were a horrible parent
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I really feel like egging something.
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why does self harm feel so much better then therapy or exercise? My head is slightly more clear/not foggy.
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Fuck proving anyone else wrong. Their opinions won’t ever change, I will always be a fuck up to them anyway.
No, I going to prove to myself that I was wrong.
Wrong for ever believing I was never good enough or would amount to anything.
That I was too stupid to do it. Too fat. Too lazy.
That falling back to bad habits didn’t matter and that I would never change.
That it was always someone else’s fault for my problems and why I can’t possibly overcome them.
Fuck that. Fuck me. I’m done with this pointless self-pity crap.
Get your fucking life together, you fat pig. Prove yourself wrong.
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I don’t know life without theses fears, resentment and hatred. Accepting them was hard but I don’t know how to let them go and live my own life. Or maybe I’m just scared of what’s underneath and what’s my true personality.
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the only real memory of my childhood is the fighting. And the thought that this will be the final straw, a punch would be thrown or someone would be killed.
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I am a asshole and need to be punished for my wrong/because I may have been insensitive or rude today.
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I’m going to therapy. Actual goddamn therapy.
I’m excited and scared all at once.
Scared that she’ll prove that I’m faking it/just being a baby.
It’s a process but I’m happy to finally be able to do this.
But also excited that maybe she will help me.
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It’s never going to be okay. Nothing is ever going to justify it. It happened and it was horrible.
But what good is it to dwell on it and continue to hurt yourself because of it? Nothing. You’ll just stay in that hole. Move on. Make better choices. Learn from that mistake. Never make it again or it’s just going to be one endless cycle. I believe in you.
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