The Allegory of My Life

What Are You?

Do you know how much it hurts to be hurt by everything? My condition makes my heart become made of glass. Every word. Every glance. Everything hurts. Do you know how confusing it is to be hurt by everything? I sometimes wonder why I am being such a baby about things. Things that I know shouldn’t bother me, but nonetheless; I am still cut to the core. Constantly guarding myself as if I am a newborn pup. Because I know that I will cry or scream at the stupidest of things, and I want to avoid it. Do you know how addicting it is to make your body match the personality people claim you have? Cut, after cut, after cut. Doing all that I can to make myself hideous. Skipping meals and creating scars, bruising and beating myself with my own arms… do you know how that hurts? Do you know how much it hurts to have everyone in control of your emotions and body but yourself? Some well placed sentences from someone elses mouth, can lead to 56 slashs and when I notice what I am doing, there is blood running down my legs. Do you know how it feels to wake up in the morning angry? I get angry with myself that I didn’t take just one more pill, just ONE more. I thought I did the job properly, because I was thrown unconscious due to the pills… all the while I am wishing to myself that my family might walk in, that someone cares enough to save me. Waking up the next morning knowing I should be dead, but some freak accident allowed me to live. Do you know how much it hurts to have medical conditions that people can’t see? How much it hurts to have this disease. This disease that people constantly tell me doesn’t exist and I am just looking for a cheap excuse so I don’t seem as absent minded… I am a survivor of my depression: I have survived the bleeding. I have survived the eating disorders. I have survived the pills. I have survived the drownings. I have survived through it all. I am a survivor… what are you?

Ghost of You.

I have flashbacks about you. I feel your hands on me, holding me as you take off my clothes, even though I have asked you not to and have told you to stop. I feel your lips on mine, attacking them vigorously, not even giving me a chance to speak out against what you are doing to my body. I feel your voice in my ears, telling me how weak and pathetic I am, telling me how I am not even strong enough to kill myself. I hear your laughter in my mind, the laugh that found the greatest amusement in your friends jokes, the jokes that were always degrading me. I see your fist in my face, the one that gave me a black eye when you were drunk, you apologized but I could tell you didn’t care. I wake up from my sleep sometimes, remembering the horrible times we shared, remembering how you raped me and used me, pushed and abused me. I have nightmares behind these eyes. Nightmares about your sick desires and our stupid fights. Nightmares about how you never cared nor never tried. Nightmares about how you encouraged me to take my life. And… in this darkness I remember that you are still alive, out here in the world wanting to see me again, waiting to bring me strife. I don’t tell you that I don’t want to see you because I am scared of you. I am afraid if I say that I am terrified that I will anger you. I am afraid of you hurting me. I have had dreams where you’ve beaten me close to death, or to death completely. I am in love with someone else who makes me feel wonderful, beautiful, and important. I know that if I were to die it would hurt him, and if I were to take my own life it would kill him. I know that you know what it is like to have someone care about you, but for me this is the first time I have felt loved since my grandmother passed… and… I am terrified to tell you this, because I don’t want you to hurt him. I don’t want you to act out in anger. I don’t want to ruin another life. I am terrified of you. I can feel your ignorant hate. I can feel your lustful eyes boring into me. I can feel your hands holding me down. I can feel your words hurting me. I can feel your fist beating me. But worst of all: I can feel you raping me.

Anonymous asked: are you planning to go see 'the beatles: the lost concert' film?

I very well might. I haven’t heard about it or anything, but I will see if I can gather up some money and have my man come with me to go see it. Are you planning on seeing it? :)

Anonymous asked: WOW @ tumblrdatinggame(.)com WTF is this.. my little brother's roommate is on this and I think I saw you too lol

I most certainly am not… or I don’t think I am… or I could be, but it was against my will… or, or, or… I dunno, but I surely didn’t sign up for it and have received no notifications about it haha xD

I’m making a ‘they care’ page people. Reblog if you want your URL included, but only reblog if you DO care and would help someone if they came to you:)

(Source: feelfreelikeabird, via youmakemefeellovely)