I tried to drown my sorrows, but they learned how to swim.
— Frida Kahlo (via fleshscars)
I have loved and I have lost. I have laughed and I have cried. I have lived, but felt like dying. I have turned right when I should have turned left and now I am just trying to work out where to go from here.
I'm just another lost teenager trying to find her place in the world.
Sixteen, self-destructive, sleep deprived, scarred body, twisted mind.
Call me Kitty.
I'm just another lost teenager trying to find her place in the world.
Sixteen, self-destructive, sleep deprived, scarred body, twisted mind.
Call me Kitty.
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Dear followers
I just want to let you all know that I am here for you. If you ever need someone to talk to, to vent to, or someone just to listen; I am here.
I know what is like to feel completely and utterly alone. I know what living with depression is like - how it just grabs you and holds you under. I know what it is like living with an eating disorder - how it runs your entire life. I know what loss of a loved one feels like. I know what it feels like to think in intricate details about ending your own life. I know what it feels like to look at different regular, every day items and think about how you could harm yourself with them. know what it feels like to be repulsed by yourself. I know what it feels like to hate yourself more than anybody else in the world. I know where you are and what you are going through. I can relate to so many of you, but even if I can’t — I still understand, I care, I will not judge and I am always here to talk.
I love each and every single one of you so very much.
Keep fighting and keep breathing.
Anonymous asked:
I actually think your writing is absolutely amazing! I wish I could write like you :)
Aw, thank you kindly! But always remember: practice makes perfect.
Anonymous asked:
what are you going to do instead of go to school?
Instead of finishing year eleven and twelve, I plan to do a Certificate II and III in Community Services part-time and work on the side.
Anonymous asked:
your writing is pretentious. or maybe i'm just dumb.
How do you propose that my writing is pretentious, exactly?
Depression is trickling back into my psyche like an old, familiar friend who once destroyed me. Its cruel breath flutters across my mind, injecting poison into my conflicted thoughts, coaxing me out of my mediocre plateau of numb contentment.
“Come back to me,”it hisses, tauntingly. “I’ll always be here. It’s easy to be enveloped back into the darkness, to not care about anything; to be so low you reach a high. It’s stronger than anything you’ve felt in a while.”
And I feel like I’m suffocating. I don’t want to submit, to drown. I’m fighting, fighting, fighting towards the surface, but instead I’m merely flailing about in the current, occasionally reaching that glimmering happiness that is the surface before being pulled under again. It all seems an immeasurable distance away and I can’t currently feel what’s hindering me. The pressure is drowning me.
I’m hoping I’ll pull myself free and reach the dappled sunlight that is the fleeting promise of joy, hoping I’ll be able to take a gulping lungful of air without the threat of Depression lingering over my head, hoping to sever all ties and start anew.
Anonymous asked:
How are you today? :) X
I’m content. I am exhausted, physically and mentally - but right this very moment, I am content. It is mine and my boyfriend’s two months today and I have realized that I have never lasted this long in a functionable, happy relationship ever before so that makes me incredibly content.
Anonymous asked:
What was the book he bought for you?
I’m sorry this is such a belated response to your message - I have just been receiving a tonne of messages as of late and am unable to get around to answering them all. But the book he bought for me is one of my absolute favourites, The Great Gatsby by F. Scott Fitzgerald.
