Depressing Shit - Blog Posts
I love my philosophy class, it makes me feel smart
I need to connect with someone again, I swear I can be a good friend, I'm just too shy irl. I feel soo alone without someone how truly understands me
My destiny is doing everything wrong and realising midway how everything is going to end, and then everything goes wrong and the cycle starts again
I'm Not Fine
How many times a day does someone ask you “how are you” or ”how are you doing” in a day?
And how many times do you say “I’m fine. Thanks. How are you?”
People don’t want a real answer when they ask you. It’s just a greeting, no one wants to know. And how many people would actually care if you gave them a real answer?
I’m not fine. I just say I’m fine because I don’t really want to say “I’m not gonna kill myself but I’m not okay.” So I just put on a fake smile, nod my head, and say what the socially acceptable script says to say.
I can’t think of a time when I was genuinely fine or okay. I just...exist.
Then one day, I just felt like I was drowning.
This all came from me realizing I’m a person I don’t like. That I never liked. I always said I would change. Said I wanted to change. I can’t even count how many times I said “today is the day”, the day has never come. I always never truly me. I was always what people wanted me to be. Always the girl who played it safe, never got out of my comfort zone. I never spoke up.
I fantasized about what it would be like to be anyone but me. Maybe because I never met me. Whenever I have let me shine through just a bit, it seems people don’t like her. Make jokes about her. Even my family. It's just a continuous hell loop in my head.
I think people just want others to be like the “average” person. People say it’s okay to be different, they tell you that everyone is free to do what they want, but the second someone turns their back, that’s a different story. “She clearly gained weight”, “her skirt is too short, the bitch is asking for something to happen”, “what was she thinking about when she got her hair done”, “eww, does she even know how to do her eyebrows?”
Why is it like this?
Why is it when someone finally shows that they do something completely normal, people are shocked just because it was done in public. They act like they don’t do the same things behind closed doors.
I’m just tired of not being the me I always wanted to be. I’m going to try now. I’m going to seriously try to be me and not what people want me to be or expect me to be.
She is now my past. I made the decision that she is dead. It doesn’t mean I’m not going to miss her in one way or another but I now know I don’t feel like I’m being drowned or can’t breathe.
I’m scared but relieved.
I finally feel as free.
Talked to a friend with major depression and anxiety who is currently in treatment about what we consider as normal thoughts and apparently most healthy people don’t think they are a total failure? They don’t panic when talking to their classmates?
Sounds made up, but okay 🤷🏻♀️
I regret getting into a relationship so much, i want friends with benefits
COPING (A Solangelo mortal-AU Fanfiction)
T/W Nico POV: My face was bruised with scars and wounds, my hands were littered with scars, some self inflicted, others from the abuse. Some days were better than others, when we could be an almost normal family, almost. Others were worse. Normal days were very rare. When I was younger, my father would return drunk everyday, he said it was coping. So, I followed in his footsteps. Everyday, he would hit me, with a belt, empty bottles, whatever would be nearby. One day, I ran away. I had dealt with enough, but, my father was an influencial person, I was found and sent back. I got beaten harshly that day, but I remained hopeful. Now, slowly, that hope seemed to be seeping through the cracks of the hardwood floor along with my blood. I was to be going to Olympian High, a prestigious school meant for preppy, rich kids. I had one job, to be one of them. My father had dared me to mess this up as one of his colleagues' child went there. I think he said the name was Will Solace. I looked at the clock hanging from the dull, grey wall. It was 6:45, school started at 7. I hastily wrapped bandages around my bleeding wrists. No time to sterilise them. I put on a black shirt along with black, ripped jeans. Once I had made sure that my attire matched my soul, I spared another glance at the clock, 6:50, ten minutes till school started. I threw the bag pack on my shoulders and ran out of my room and down the stairs. Once I was outside the house, I ran towards the school, it was nearby, fortunately. I ran past speeding cars and towards the bright building ahead of me. Once I finally reached the gates, I slowed down. I walked into the building and looked at my routine which had been delivered to me beforehand. First class was English, great. I dragged my sleep deprived ass to the classroom. It was an all too familiar pattern. I entered the class, which has disgustingly bright walls. It was as if the school was built to oppose me. Luckily, the teacher hadn't arrived, so I quickly found a seat, not noticing who sat next to. Beside me sat the most stunningly beautiful boy ever, he had lustrous blond hair and startling blue eyes, with a tan complexion. His face was littered with freckles and his body was muscular. He was wearing a bright yellow hoodie and cargo shots which really suited him. "Hi, I'm Will Solace, can I help you?" Oh great, I just had to fall in love with Will Solace. "No you may not." I replied, snarkily. I regretted it immediately when the boy's face drooped an his eyes dimmed. "Okay." I decided to apologise, a feat I had never taken before. I sighed. "Look, I'm sorry. I'm just not used to this." "Its okay, I'll help you out." I smiled. "I'm Nico, Nico Di Angelo." ---------------------------the end (FOR NOW.)---------------------------- Hey guys, I hope you like this, its the first part of the fanfiction and I'll be writing a few more parts to it. :<)
Favored was the one, who received apricity,
Star-crossed was I, condemned to opacity,
Tragedy was Eponine, Marius' lover,
So was I, midnight to hover.
my son orpheleus was orphaned 2 hours after his birth 💔💔💔
CLEANING MY DEPRESSION ROOM !!!
i might do a before and after ^_^
Uncomfortable
I'm stuck in a 2 star hotel that's been repeatedly reported for nasty rooms, nasty drug heads, homeless people trying to sneak through the windows, rude staff...I'm here for two nights.
It stinks here. I'm omw to my housekeeping job and it definitely goes to show that, I KNOW I can do better than this. Dirty towels, empty toilet paper rolls, used water bottles sitting in the fridge...and I want to cry. I've peaked outof the peep hole 4 times, I've checked the windows 5 times. And I'm not even paying for it...my guy friend is, so I can't complain. And I literally have no money to my name to change any of this.
Wednesday I'll be out of here. But until then I'm stuck. In this nasty hole and smelly room. The only good thing is that Jurassic Park is playing and I still have snacks he bought me.
There are times that I hate that I don't drink or do drugs. When I'm feeling down I can't drink away my sorrows or get stoned enough to not worry about it, so all I can do is smoke a cigarette and hope the feeling that I'd be better off dead goes away before it burns out.
It’s staying up at night
Listening to the ticking of the clock,
the sounds from outside.
It's being distracted for just a short time
by the light of the streetlight
shining through the carelessly closed shutters
It’s hoping not having to face the next day
It’s numbing fear
Waking up the next morning,
starting the day with newfound motivation
It’s creeping up throughout the day
Doing the dishes,
writing an essay,
drinking coffee
And suddenly it’s there
I don't feel so good today.
I feel a strange, ancient ache in my soul. An aged feel to my rigid bones that once held the weight of the earth and the sky. Now they wish to rest, to turn to dust. They have endured enough weathering. I feel nostalgic for a life I have never lived, for a life I wish I lived. I suppose I do understand this humane desire. The soul was never meant to stay on the earth. It was meant to rise. And here, now, it is bound to, shackled to this body and inadvertently, to this world,held taut by the unyielding chains of gravity. I yearn for the day I return home. Up there.
I don't feel so good today and that's fine.
~Me
You know what sucks? I used to be an AVID reader, I’d finish like two books in 5 days. Then reading started to be required for my grade and I lost so much motivation to read. The teacher would constantly make jokes about how our generation ‘shouldn’t be on the internet so much and pick up a book.’ I still hate her right now.
Does anyone have any tips on how to break that habit? I don’t just mean book recs, but just general tips on how to help my behavior?
That moment when you realise that all your worst fears are true and stop believing that, even for a second, someone could have understood and told you that everything is okay.
📜🖋🍂
Once upon a time there was a girl,
She didn't like who she was.
She didn't like the way she looked,
She didn't like the way she behaved,
She didn't like the way she thought.
She was always imperfect for her.
Once upon a time there was a girl,
Who always wanted to be someone else and would have given anything to make this happen,
Because in her skin she felt invisible, unappreciated, unloved.
This may have changed if she had accepted the love of others justly,
But she couldn't,
It was hard for her because she didn't love herself,
And the love from others seemed unfair to her to have.
Once upon a time there was a girl,
Who only had one friend.
She felt at home when she was with her,
But they haven't seen each other in months,
And remote communication was hard to maintain.
When she was alone it was a torment.
At that moment all thoughts rushed creating unreal worries but he could not escape:
"What if you did the wrong thing?"
"You're not good enough."
"The people you passed by earlier started laughing ... they were laughing at you."
"You look horrible!"
All this was like a rising water.
She felt like she was drowning.
Needing to breathe, her subconscious told her to take a deep breath, a thought she struggled with because you couldn't breathe underwater.
She felt trapped, her own prisoner, and there was nothing she could do about it.
Once upon a time there was a girl,
Who forgot how to love,
She forgot the feeling of being in love.
She forgot how to love love.
She was afraid to fall in love,
She was afraid to love.
That's why she kept the world at bay and moved away from everyone.
She felt like she was building a wall between herself and the others.
She didn't feel sad, but she wasn't happy either.
All she felt was security.
She wished she could feel those butterflies in her stomach,
But at the same time, she was terrified of the idea.
She wished she could feel the warmth of someone next to her,
But at the same time she liked the coolness in which she found himself.
She was lost in a maze of her emotions and didn't want to shoot anyone with her,
That's why she drove everyone away.
For her, love was like a new universe, and no matter how much she wanted to explore it, she was too afraid.
Once upon a time there was a girl,
Which wherever she was she did not feel at home.
She wanted to go home,
But she didn't feel at home at home either.
Wherever she was, she felt like a stranger,
A tourist in a space that does not deserve to be, surrounded by critical looks that judged her every move.
She wanted a place for her, but she couldn't find it;
She wanted to feel safe, but she didn't feel;
She wanted a house, but she didn't have one.
The only place that was closest to "home" was the place he saw only in his imagination,
Where she felt safe,
Where she was the person she always wanted to be.
But it hurt.
The feeling she had when she returned to reality hurt;
Sadness, anger, disappointment,
It all overwhelmed her and made her feel like she was drowning again,
Until she took it from the beginning again, imagining.
It was like a drug.
The most beautiful and painful drug the girl could not part with no matter how hard she tried.
And she knows that because she tried,
But she couldn't.
She was always pulled back by the awful feeling of peace, tranquility, security ... at home.
Once upon a time there was a girl,
Who needed help ...
But he didn't know who to ask.
Ok, so, I am sorry if my english is bad. It's my second language, but anyway here is the version written in my language:
A fost odată o fată,
Ei nu îi plăcea cine era.
Nu îi placea cum arăta, nu îi plăcea cum se comporta, nu îi plăcea cum gândea.
Pentru ea a fost mereu imperfectă.
A fost odată o fată,
Care mereu și-a dorit să fie altcineva și ar fi dat orice pentru ca acest lucru să se fi întâmplat,
Pentru că în pielea ei se simțea invizibilă, neapreciată, neiubită.
Acest lucru poate s-ar fi schimbat dacă ar fi acceptat iubea celorlalți din just,
Dar nu putea,
Îi era greu deoarece nu se iubea pe ea insăşi,
Iar dragostea din partea celorlalți I se părea nedrept pentru a o avea.
A fost odată o fată,
Care avea doar o prietenă.
Se simțea acasă când era cu ea,
Dar nu s-au mai văzut de luni întregi,
Iar comunicarea de la distanță era un lucru greu de menținut.
Când era singură era un chin.
În acel moment toate gândurile năvăleau creând griji ireale dar de care nu putea scăpa:
"Dacă ai făcut acel lucru greşit?"
"Nu eşti suficient de bună."
"Persoanele pe lângă care ai trecut mai devreme au început să râdă...râdeau de tine."
"Arăți oribil!"
Toate acestea erau ca o apă în continuă creșterea.
Simțea că se îneacă.
Având nevoie să respire subconştientul ei îi spunea să tragă o gură de aer, gând cu care se lupta deoarece nu poți respira sub apă.
Se simțea blocată, propria prizonieră și nu putea face nimic în legătură cu asta.
A fost odată o fată,
Care a uitat cum se iubeşte,
A uitat sentimentul de a fi indrăgostit.
A uitat cum să iubească iubirea.
Îi era frică a se indrăgosti,
Îi era frică a iubi.
De aceea ținea lumea la distanță și se indepărta de toți.
Simțea ca și cum construia un zid între ea și ceilalți.
Nu se simțea tristă dar nu era nici fericită.
Tot ce simțea era siguranță.
Ea și-ar fi dorit să simtă acei fluturi în stomac,
Dar în același timp era inspăimântată de idee.
Și-ar fi dorit să simtă căldura cuiva lângă ea,
Dar în același timp îi plăcea răcoarea în care se afla.
Era pierdută într-un labirint al emotiilor ei și nu dorea să tragă pe nimeni alături de ea,
De aceea îndeparta pe toată lumea.
Pentru ea iubirea era ca un univers nou și oricât de mult și-ar fi dorit să îl exploreze îi era mult prea teamă.
A fost odată o fată,
Care oriunde se afla nu se simțea acasă.
Dorea să meargă acasă,
Dar nici acasă nu se mai simțea acasă.
În orice loc în care se afla se simțea străină,
Un turist pe un spațiu care nu I se cuvine înconjurat de priviri critice care îi judecau fiecare mişcare.
Își dorea un loc al ei, dar nu îl putea găsi;
Dorea să se simtă în siguranță, dar nu se simțea;
Ar fi vrut o casă, dar nu o avea.
Singurul loc care era cel mai apropiat de "acasă" era locul pe care îl vedea doar în imaginația sa,
Acolo unde se simțea în siguranță,
Acolo unde era persoana care și-ar fi dorit din totdeauna să fie.
Dar durea.
Durea sentimentul pe care îl avea atunci când se întorcea la realitate;
Tristețea, furia, dezamăgirea,
Toate o copleşeau și o făceau din nou să se simtă ca și cum s-ar îneca,
Până când o lua iar de la capăt, imaginându-şi.
Era ca un drog.
Cel mai frumos și dureros drog de care fata nu se putea despărții oricât ar fi încercat.
Și ea știe asta pentru că a încercat,
Dar nu a putut.
Era mereu trasă înapoi de îngrozitorul de frumos sentiment de pace, linişte, siguranță...acasă.
A fost odată o fată,
Care avea nevoie de ajutor...
Dar nu știa cui să il ceară.
Here’s the thing about my depression, I don’t wanna die but I don’t wanna live.
I just wanna go into a very long coma.
Lately, I've been wanting someone to compliment me.
I have so much self hatred in myself these days that I can't look at the camera or the mirror without my smile fading.
I want someone to tell me that I'm worthy, that I'm not as bad as I think i am and that it will get better.
I’m so glad we only live once, cus I cannot do this shit again.
I was recently in Europe…and by that I mean I went to Europe last December. And I wish I could say that in a better and less confusing sense but now I feel different, like if it didn’t matter at all . I know it’s supposed to feel like it was the greatest trip of my life but I just didn’t allow myself to feel so. I know I’m wrong but at least I met new places I guess. I don’t think I’m returning anytime soon
Feels nice to post again. I’ve officially moved on from social media (this place doesn’t feel like it anymore) and getting a low profile life now - officially Sænger
AU in which Nicolas is the one to finish Mozart's Requiem during his years at the theater, and views it as an homage to his former teacher, and a way to finally asserts himself as a genius musician in his own rights, proving that he was able to learn and perfect his playing and composing skills enough to rival the great names of his times, even if he began later in his life and was considered a set for failure by Mozart himself. And despising what he composes because it is a proof that he is only good because he as been turned into something wrong, inhuman, and that becoming this irrevertedly damned creature was the only way for him to achieve greatness, whereas Lestat was a masterful actor basically from birth, and could achieve greatness whilst still being happy and human.
Anyone else sees the vision?
Rebel against something today. Not to feel cheesy, but maybe , just maybe , it’ll be the beginning of something you.
And no, this isn’t motivation. This is a battle note.
hey, come on, there is nothing more blissful than crossing the bridge instead of jumping off of it.
Art by @kmcvisuals
Permanent Holes.
Mirrors lie, outlining shapes that mean nothing.
Mirrors horrify, penetrating into brains and forming unrealistic images.
Mirrors, they influence us into beings that burden us to be and after the energies put into the transformation
a deeper hole is drilled in us instead realizing that it needs not a mirror to clearly see our portraits leaving us as nothings and as people of no belonging.
@lifepath25
the little self in me whispers in this midnight abyss that I am not forgotten that I am alive that am a river and I can flow wherever I wish too. The little self in me whispers in this midnight abyss that there is a starlight that I have to look a little hard with huge amour-propre that only then will the starlight unvail its light onto the path that i must take out of the abyss.