"When I was 12, I sat next to my mom on the kitchen floor.
While she sobbed uncontrollably,
And told me she wasn’t quite sure how to function anymore.
And that was when I learned what depression was.
When I was 14, I watched my mom scream and throw things around her room.
I sat in a chair at the kitchen table,
While she told me I was a bitch and a horrible girlfriend,
And that I didn’t deserve to be in a happy relationship.
And that was when I learned what bipolar disorder was.
When I was 16, I sat on my bed
While my dad explained that he and my mom needed some time apart,
But that he would always be there for me,
Even if he didn’t sleep at our house anymore.
And that was when I learned that infidelity is real,
And not everyone keeps their promises.
When I was 16, I thought a boy loved me,
And that when you were in love,
It was okay if he hit you
And pushed you further than you wanted to go.
Even if you were crying and saying, “no”.
I thought it was okay because he said he loved me.
When I was 17, I thought that I could be strong.
And I told that boy to leave,
Just like my dad had left me before.
And I thought that I could deal with being alone.
Then I realized I was not alone,
Because the razor was my friend.
And had been for a few years.
But suddenly, it was my only place to turn.
And for the next two years,
And my stomach,
were covered in cuts and scars.
And my dinner plate always went in the trash,
And I “forgot” my lunch most days.
My words were full of excuses,
Of how I had fallen down,
Or bumped into something,
And cut myself shaving.
Or how I wasn’t hungry.
When I was 19, I moved away.
My mom was on medication that worked.
And I met another boy.
And he didn’t hit me.
And I knew he meant it when he said he loved me.
I decided to chose happiness.
I threw away my razors and picked up a paintbrush instead.
I am 20 years old.
I am a year clean.
My boyfriend loves me and treats me like a princess.
My mother loves me and calls me every day.
My father loves me,
In his own way even if it is not how it used to be.
My brother and sister look up to me and tell me that they love me.
When I was 12
And every year in between,
I was sad and confused,
And I sometimes chose bad choices.
But now I am 20, and I have chosen happiness.
And I have chosen recovery.
And I want you to know,
It gets better.
And it will be okay."
- Please read this! (via yourlittlemisschatterbox)
I want you to promise me something. And I don’t care if you don’t know me, like me, or like making promises in general. Just do it.
Promise me that you will keep on living, even when everything is futile.
I want you to forgive yourself for the things that you’ve done. I want you to forgive yourself for the things that you should have done. Forgive yourself, even when you don’t think you deserve it.
I want you to love yourself for all that you are and all that you are not. I want you to love yourself, even if no one else does. You do not need the validation from another human being in order to know your worth. You do not need others to love you in order to show you that you are worth loving. The love that you develop for yourself is more than enough. Love yourself enough to stand on your own, without depending on the love of anyone else.
So stop injecting drugs to avoid reality. Stop with the pills and the cutting. Stop with the thoughts on jumping off a building and hanging yourself. Stop hating yourself and regretting about the past. Stop with the ‘what ifs’ and the ‘should have beens.’ And don’t you dare pull that trigger. Stop.
Stop and love yourself. It is the least you can do for you.
- Remy Raine (via remyraine)
Let’s play a fun game called “we’re just friends but I’d fuck you if you asked”
when you sit attentively in class but you dont understand a thing the teacher is saying
(Source: surprisebitch, via thachillfreak)
"You win! You win again!"
mermaids don’t have thigh gaps but they can still lure men to their deaths
(Source: acebethchilds, via thachillfreak)
You are your own worst fear.
Six Word Story by P.P. (via oceanflowerbird)