'I wish you understood what it was like to be me' 'Why didn't you tell me?' 'Because you never asked.'
I am terrified. I am scared to be happy, scared to have too much fun, scared to feel so alive. Scared that this is it. Scared of the anticlimax. I am scared of being happy enough not to care. Scared... Continue Reading →
Trigger warning! This post contains sensitive content relating to the feelings that arise when I self-harm. Sometimes I feel hopeless. I pick at scabs on my body relentlessly, making myself feel worse and worse about myself. I look in the... Continue Reading →