What is the fucking point? Honestly. What is the goddamn point to all of this?
I am so sick of feeling so broken. It never stops. It never goes away.
How can I be okay one minute and destroyed two minutes later?
I am so fucking sick of this shit.
My head hurts twenty four hours a goddamn day because I can’t straighten up. I can’t breathe. I can’t see straight.
I’ve got voices fighting within my head.
I dissociate and go back to the days I would rather forget.
I can’t fucking breathe and I am so sick and tired of being me.
What is the point to any of this?
The older I get, the less interest in life I have.
I miss the days when I was young. I was so carefree and stupid and naive and my life was so beautiful.
Now life is grim. My view is darker and more realistic. And I don’t see my life as beautiful as I use to.
I hate my life 6 out of 7 days.
I don’t know who the fuck is in control anymore.
Is it me, the dark, depressed, angry bitch?
or is it the girl I was yesterday? The one who was laughing and smiling and thankful to be alive.
I woke up this morning and I just wanted to die.
The tears haven’t stopped. The hurt is getting worse. The pain within is suffocating me and I want to give into the grief and lose myself in the madness.
My demons took my hands this morning and told me today is going to be a shitty day and I keep battling them and I keep telling them they’re wrong, I’ll turn it around.
Yeah fucking right. Jokes on me.
But then within seconds, my throat closes up, my chest gets tight and I can’t breathe.
What is the fucking point to any of this?
My mentality is not okay today. My phone is blowing up and I’m sure it’s someone checking up on me because I ranted on social media and “oh god hannah’s lost her head again” everyone come to the rescue.
WHERE ARE YOU WHEN I AM OKAY?
I appreciate you checking in on me but please…if you’re not around when I’m fine, then you only coming around when I’m sad just strikes me as odd.
I don’t have friends.
Anyone who knows me, the real me, they’re family. Anyone who has stuck around through the bullshit, who is there when I’m good and when I’m not…they’re family.
Everyone else …..
Who the fuck are you?
Why the fuck are you standing in front of me?
People only care either when I’m super manic and happy and then they aren’t anywhere to be found when I’m suicidal and depressed.
People only care when I’m suicidal and depressed, tryin to be my hero.
I don’t need you as my hero.
I’ll save my fucking self.
I just don’t get it.
What is the fucking point to any of this? I am so sick of this shit.
Life is grim.
My life is dark.
My head is fucked and I’m starting to question every day of my life.
Am I really happy?
Those manic, “good days”…are they really good?
I’m beginning to feel even crazier.
Truthfully I want to scream.
Broke some shit again today.
Thought it would help but it didn’t.
Wanted to punch another hole in the wall.
But I know it won’t help. I’ve done it before and it’s not done shit except hurt my hand, and shatter my wrist.
I have so many holes to patch anyways.
I am so sick of adding more.
But I’m angry.
I’m angry as fuck at life.
I am angry at god.
I am angry at whoever the fuck is in control.
I know I’m not.
Over the last few weeks, I try to keep a positive head and stay happy and stay confident and I try to have a level head but then something snaps within me and I’m the complete opposite of everything that’s unicorns and rainbows.
I find myself wanting to set shit on fire.
I wish I could.
I wish I could burn it all to the goddamn ground.
I’d just stand outside of my house and watch the smoke billow into the atmosphere.
And I’d probably imagine what it’d feel like to stand inside and let the flames take me down.
My head isn’t right.
But I’ve been told I should write about it so here I am writing about it.
Letting it air out instead of bottle up in my chest.
I’m letting this rage air out. I’m letting these words come out. I’m speaking my mind and what do you know…it’s terrifying.
I think and I think and I think. The voices in my head don’t stop arguing or bringing up the past.
I make the mistake of staring at a wall for too long and next thing I know I’m back where I don’t want to be with who I don’t want to be with and it’s like I”m really there again and I’m scared again and it takes every bit of strength within to bring myself back to reality.
I’m not okay and if you’ve read this far, then …I don’t know.
Why are you reading this?
I hate myself and I don’t blame the people who have left me. I don’t blame them one bit.
I hate myself and I wish I could abandon me.
Sometimes I wish one of these manic alters would take control and let this me disappear forever.
I haven’t gotten out of bed in 3 days. It’s like pulling teeth getting me to go downstairs.
I don’t want to leave my safe place.
I am safe here.
I don’t feel safe outside.
I don’t feel safe in my own kitchen.
I hate this house.
It’s prison to me.
I hate my mind.
I hate these voices.
I hate how so many people just don’t understand.
I’m not being dramatic.
I’m not being needy.
I don’t want attention.
I want to be understood.
god i would give anything to just be understood.
I know two people that seem to understand where I am.
Thank god for them.
As for the rest….I don’t know what to think or say.
I can’t stand one sided conversations. I can’t stand one sided friendships.
I’m done with them.
I wish I could be done with social media too.
Maybe I should trash this dream of being an artist. go find a stupid pointless office job and then I can get rid of social media for good.
Because I’m so fucking lonely here. It makes me feel so fucking alone. But I have to be on facebook or instagram just to help my business along. I have to have somewhere to share my art, to promote myself.
God what have I done?
I’ve entered a fucking prison.
Social media is like high school all over again.
I’m trying to make it more real
like I’m screaming and yelling and basically kicking lockers open trying to reveal that people are FULL OF SHIT and I”m tryin to say here i am here i am i’m real and i’m genuine and i just want to be heard.
and no one even cares. no one bats an eye. I’m invisible. I am fucking invisible.
why do i want to be heard anyways?
why do i even share my life with people who don’t give a shit.
I can’t be a side show. it’s pathetic, for me, it is so fucking pathetic.
I feel desperate.
I feel like I”m 16 again, wishing the popular crowd liked me.
I am such a fucking outcast. I am so misunderstood and I’m the one people use to laugh at when I”d say that shit.
No one fucking bats an eye.
Everyone is in their own little social media world. Fake ass worlds.
No one really cares.
Show me the genuine people and I”ll try to believe it but
it takes a lot for my walls to come down.
I’m building it up again as we speak.
I don’t care to let anyone in.
I don’t care.
Today I don’t fucking care.
What is the fucking point to any of this? This world is fucked. Life is fucked. I am fucked up. I am broken. My head is trashed. I can’t keep holding onto the hope that “tomorrow will be different” and then it’s all the fucking same every single day.
Where is manic me when I need her?
Please just take over.
I don’t want to be present anymore.
I need someone else to take over.