23. NY.
What matters most is how well you walk through the fire.

I am having such an existential crisis. I’m 24 and I don’t know what the fuck I want to do with my life and I don’t know who the fuck I am… and I don’t see the point in living if I’m just going to fucking die anyways so why the fuck don’t I just end it now?!

Jesus god damn christ.

And these intrusive thoughts of “God” and “KILL EVERYONE” and FUCK

go away, let me live in peace…. PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE.

I just want to fucking cry. I am so stressed the fuck out, but I can’t cry because it’s just buried and I’m feeling so much, I’m numb at the same time.

Where’s my sanity..

Kik? Wastedcarbon

Kik?

wastedcarb0n:

Would be cool, hit me up at wastedcarbon

Kik?

Would be cool, hit me up at wastedcarbon

beatdepression-positivequotes:

Why wouldn’t you reblog this?

these intrusive thoughts make me feel crazed

"

this body is at war with itself,
a cave that houses an angry beast.
it roars, requires repentance and sorrow.

this body turns its head, dizzy,
full of too many people,
crowded with ghosts,
remembrances.

I curl up somewhere inside, lost.
pretend I’m better,
pretend I’m happy,
pretend I’m not afraid.

but this body is not me.
I cannot recognize this person;
I am not myself.
I don’t know where I went.
I don’t know where to find me.

"
Rachel Thompson, dissocation (via poemsbyrachel)
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