sadgirlsclub22-blog

[sadgirlsclub22-blog]

[sadgirlsclub22-blog]

One of my favorite songs from an old favorite band.

#bayside devotionanddesire alone content

[sadgirlsclub22-blog]

I still struggle every day to fight the urge to hurt myself. Some days it is easier, and other days, it’d be easier to put a bullet through my skull. Trying to move on from that is like trying to change how your brain is wired. Everyone says it will get better, that it will go away, but I’m not sure it ever will, even if I am content in life.

#selfharm selfhealing struggle fightingurges sadgirls

[sadgirlsclub22-blog]

The cost of overthinking. #dailythought

[sadgirlsclub22-blog]

My disorder is a room where The floor is made of broken glass And I am naked Society expects me To get to the door On the other side Without bleeding

A poem about BPD (via buffythegilmoregirl)

[sadgirlsclub22-blog]

maybe i’m not easy to love. i have a strong heart. it’s a strong heart but sometimes it still hurts when people try to pull on it. it’s my lungs that are the problem. i lose my breath faster than i lose my headphones. it’s like my lungs are two balloons being squeezed too tightly and my chest concaves and i feel like they’re going to just pop. i’m not easy to love. it’s more than just that. i do impulsive things like cut all of my hair off and tell you i love you before i’m sure i do. and one day you’ll wake up and you’ll notice that i’m not as kind as you thought i was. or i’m not as smart. or as pretty. and you’ll realise i’m not easy to love. you’ll realise you just wanted to believe i am. that you’d managed to convince yourself otherwise.

(r.e.s)

[sadgirlsclub22-blog]

It’s starting to scare me. I used to cry all the time. Most nights there would be tears shed on my pillow. Salt stains billowing out, blotches painting the case - a postmodern/abstract canvas. So many feelings whirling and storming within me, I had to let them all out. I’d wake with puffy eyes and a runny nose - telltale giveaways, I think people chose to believe I had bad allergies. They’re gone now, the well is dry and I don’t know what’s worse - the feeling of everything crushing down upon my chest causing leaky eye pipes to burst in the dark privacy of night, spilling out the excess; or this… emptiness. This hollow of nothing that has opened itself up in the core of me, spreading out to my extremities like some kind of flesh eating disease. It’s an infection of numb, even when I know things should be hurting, I can’t feel a fucking thing. It’s really starting to scare me that I can’t remember the last time I cried, and I’m fucking terrified at what might happen, when I finally do.

What happens when the tears break through and I start to feel again? // © @rarasworldbro (via rarasworldbro)

[sadgirlsclub22-blog]