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

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,

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)

(Source: freakdafunk)

kik? Wastedcarb0n

Anyone wanna chat

Kik: wastedcarb0n
Hit me up!
No 16 year old wieners please


jeez i would love to order that thing online, but i don’t know what size to order it in because women’s clothing sizes are determined by the alignments of the planets in relation to the fuck you galaxy 

(Source: dramaticleaves, via mintcemetary)

Today’s just a down-day. I feel horrible and I have only myself to blame, although I really shouldn’t beat myself up for it. It’s the 4th of July. My parents are at a family cookout, I’m at home, sulking in my own negativity. An old friend invited me to a cookout later… I really, truly do not want to do a damn thing, but I know I NEED to. I read articles and tips about how to climb out of this rut. I know I should be outside. I know I should be interacting with the world, but I’m letting my fears swallow me alive. I have never been so down in my life. I’m scared of everything. I fear I’m incapable of living a healthy life. I fear I’m a bad person deep down. I fear I’m not meant to be good and decent. I fear I’m a monster, and why? I couldn’t tell you. I beat myself up over past mistakes. Mistakes I made as a child, to be specific. Mistakes I made as a child that are more than likely completely NORMAL. Mistakes I made ONCE and haven’t repeated in 10 years, nor have I wished to. The intrusive thoughts and feelings are hell. Out of nowhere, I feel hopeless. Out of nowhere, I get thoughts/feelings of hurting myself/others. And it just sends me spiraling downwards. And what I SHOULD be doing is living despite these crippling thoughts. They’re just thoughts. If my mind tells me to rape, molest, murder or beat anyone or anything, I have every ability to choose otherwise. Thoughts are just thoughts, but they’re in my head and they’re terrifying. I’m scared to be around people. I feel I don’t deserve happiness. Is that my depression talking? Who knows. I don’t. I know I need to PUSH myself. What a fucking challenge that is. I wish I knew when I’d feel better. Life’s a journey and I don’t want this to consume me, but I just don’t know sometimes. When people message me saying they’re there for me, I say thanks, but I refuse to bother them with my problems… because I feel they have better things to do than listen to my shit. I do for everyone else, always have… and look where I am now. I don’t see anyone besides my parents. I rarely leave the house, unless I’m going to therapy. Every week, I look FORWARD to therapy, and that’s the only thing I look forward to. I wake up and think “aww, fuck… here we go again.” Talking to strangers is easier than talking to people in my life. That makes no sense, but, it’s the truth. I just don’t know anymore. I don’t enjoy anything. Music, movies, people, animals… I’m just ridiculously down… and it is so sickening.. I just want to fucking end it all somedays. 

*It’s just a bad day, not a bad life.*

*I can be who I CHOOSE to be.*