every time i try to talk it’s like a hand closes around my throughly threatening to kill me if i speak …
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imagine having a wound. A bad one, 3rd degree burn for example. It makes it extremely painful to move.
one day you grit your teeth and start to move. You make it a few meters, with excruciating pain, but you are so proud of yourself. finally, after months, you managed to move!
and then someone comes in and says "how are you doing?" and you happily tell them "good!" and they look at you where you sit, recovering from the pain of the movement you made, and they start scolding you
"you're not doing good! there's so much ground left to cover until you get to the other side of the room!" and you say nothing. until they ask you "what?!" and you yell at them about how much effort it took, how much you wish you tried and how you don't even know why because its never good enough for them
and then they have the absolute brass balls to say "why are you yelling at me? sorry for existing!"
and you have the urge to grab them and rip their fucking larynx out because they are one of the reasons you even have these burns in the first place
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why didnt i see your abuse
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Me when my friends finally find me in the midst of a depressive episode:
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This time, they've thrown you out for good.
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and the voice is always there, in the back of your head,
“just one more time, then we’ll stop”.
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