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is it normal to pace your room and talk to yourself about suicide?
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this cut is dedicated to my dbt instructor, jerry.
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How can you deny us the right to kill ourselves when you’ve never actually felt suicidal yourself? When you’re feeling that way, suicide is an all encompassing right, an absolute truth, and an unquestionable should. Who are you to take that away from us? Everyone has their lot in life… Some people write literature, some practice medicine, some make war… Why can’t I choose my lot in life whatever that may be and whatever the consequences? Where is my right to lead or end my life when and how I want? This is my life and if I choose my lot to be suicide then so be it.
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it just feels too good.
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today i binged and purged and cut and burned. i should probably be taking my prozac but it’s just so hard to care.
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I feel like I’m empty, composed of spiderwebs of disorders creating a shadow of a person.
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i did art this weekend without feeling suicidal for the first time in many many years.
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How can self destruction be so quiet?
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it was depressing cleaning my whole room with my mom and finding lots of old, blood-stained kleenexes in my drawers. not to mention the gun target from the firing range.
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I have so little left of myself that I want to keep what I can, even if it’s fundamentally detrimental. Yet I hate myself and want to get rid of the horrible scraps that are left.
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I used to think that to become free you had to practice like a samurai warrior, but now I understand that you have to practice like a devoted mother of a newborn child. It takes the same energy but has a completely different quality. It’s compassion and presence rather than having to defeat the enemy in battle."
Jack Kornfield, “The Question” -
if i’m going to live, can’t i at least be great and perfect?
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(Source: imsatan, via depthstodeath)
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The artist is not, as ordinary people think, a gay sort of person who flings off works of art here and there out of sheer exuberance. Unfortunately he is usually a poor soul who is being suffocated with surplus riches and therefore has to give some of them away. It is a fallacy that there are happy artists; that is just philistines’ talk. Lighthearted Mozart kept up his spirits with champagne and was consequently short of bread, and why Beethoven did not commit suicide in his youth instead of composing all that wonderful music, no one knows. A real artist in unhappy. Whenever he is hungry and opens his bags, there are only pearls inside it."
Hermann Hesse in Gertrude (1910)(Source: predatorywaspobserver, via hermannhesse)
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my life feels completely worthless and meaningless.
