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Literature Text
So many things to live for,
But so many reasons to die,
How is it that I can be happy,
While still managing to cry?
One year, five years, ten...
Too many years to count.
All my life, I've denied
The truth about the amount
Of pain in my chest and throat,
No matter how much I smile,
The overall picture decays,
Euphoria lasting a short while.
I had never really confessed
Up until now, for I've lied
For more than a decade about
Crossing to the other side.
I've lied to myself, not friends,
And I've never expressed it,
These feelings of melancholy
That leave me in a dark pit.
Selfishness and selflessness,
Who here can be blamed?
Is it them, or is it me?
Which argument is to be shamed?
A child should never wish to die,
For too young is the soul,
But my innocence was little,
Nay, may've never existed at all.
I cannot tell you exactly when
My heart had started to break,
For I myself do not know when
My whole world began to quake.
"She is bubbly," they said,
"She is so kind and energetic."
It is true, that's who I am,
But overall,my mind is sick.
A teenager who wishes to die
Is seen as a cry for attention.
Maybe it is, maybe it isn't,
It's easy to avoid detection.
And what if that juvenile is
Not just seeking our eyes?
In a matter of time, it could
Lead them to their own demise.
A young adult should not wish
Death upon him or her self,
Still so young, the thoughts plague
The mind, even in good health.
I am tied to this world
By promises I'll forever keep,
Though they turn away their eyes
When I just sit there and weep.
If they cared about the wild bird
Locked in the iron cage,
They'd set the poor creature free,
To live to their destined age.
"Twenty three is still too young,"
They relay sadly to me,
"You've still got a long time
Before you're to be set free."
So I'm here, tied to Earth
By a promise too strong to break,
And no matter how much happiness
I have, my sorrow I cannot fake.
A person should not want to die
For most of their own life.
There's something wrong with my head
If I'm feeling this much strife.
There are people out there who can
Relate, though fear to speak their mind.
We all feel like different species who
Just want to live with their own kind.
I know I'm sick to feel this way,
But I suppose I'm never leaving.
So I sit in my computer chair,
Oh so silently grieving.
I can no longer keep the secret
Of which I've tried to deny,
That for more than eleven years,
I've wanted nothing more than to die.
But so many reasons to die,
How is it that I can be happy,
While still managing to cry?
One year, five years, ten...
Too many years to count.
All my life, I've denied
The truth about the amount
Of pain in my chest and throat,
No matter how much I smile,
The overall picture decays,
Euphoria lasting a short while.
I had never really confessed
Up until now, for I've lied
For more than a decade about
Crossing to the other side.
I've lied to myself, not friends,
And I've never expressed it,
These feelings of melancholy
That leave me in a dark pit.
Selfishness and selflessness,
Who here can be blamed?
Is it them, or is it me?
Which argument is to be shamed?
A child should never wish to die,
For too young is the soul,
But my innocence was little,
Nay, may've never existed at all.
I cannot tell you exactly when
My heart had started to break,
For I myself do not know when
My whole world began to quake.
"She is bubbly," they said,
"She is so kind and energetic."
It is true, that's who I am,
But overall,my mind is sick.
A teenager who wishes to die
Is seen as a cry for attention.
Maybe it is, maybe it isn't,
It's easy to avoid detection.
And what if that juvenile is
Not just seeking our eyes?
In a matter of time, it could
Lead them to their own demise.
A young adult should not wish
Death upon him or her self,
Still so young, the thoughts plague
The mind, even in good health.
I am tied to this world
By promises I'll forever keep,
Though they turn away their eyes
When I just sit there and weep.
If they cared about the wild bird
Locked in the iron cage,
They'd set the poor creature free,
To live to their destined age.
"Twenty three is still too young,"
They relay sadly to me,
"You've still got a long time
Before you're to be set free."
So I'm here, tied to Earth
By a promise too strong to break,
And no matter how much happiness
I have, my sorrow I cannot fake.
A person should not want to die
For most of their own life.
There's something wrong with my head
If I'm feeling this much strife.
There are people out there who can
Relate, though fear to speak their mind.
We all feel like different species who
Just want to live with their own kind.
I know I'm sick to feel this way,
But I suppose I'm never leaving.
So I sit in my computer chair,
Oh so silently grieving.
I can no longer keep the secret
Of which I've tried to deny,
That for more than eleven years,
I've wanted nothing more than to die.
Literature
You Only Have So Much
Her fingers are dirty,
Her hair tangled.
She's a mess, some would say.
But at least her heart is pure.
His wrists covered in scars,
His stomach roaring with hunger.
He's damaged, some would say.
But at least his love is whole.
Her breathing is heavy,
And her skin is pale.
She's dying, some would say.
But at least she knows how to live.
At least a woman without a house
Knows how to make a home.
Hand her a loaf of bread,
And she won't devour it,
Because she knows how to treasure
The beauty in life.
At least a boy without a smile
Knows how to hold on,
Longer than someone who's never fallen,
And never dared to learn
How to fly.
At least a g
Literature
Lying is Bad (A message to myself)
Hello darling.
Have you ever held a needle to your wrist?
Have you ever skipped a meal because you were hungry?
Have you ever punched your stomach before falling asleep?
Have you ever felt wrong, because you told someone you were okay? (After all, lying is bad.)
Have you ever rocked back and forth without realizing, until someone else told you to stop?
Have you ever slammed your head against your wall so you might forget your situation?
Have you ever cried in a thunderstorm so no one would hear your cries for help?
Have you ever worn long sleeves and said it was because you were chilly... then felt horrible? (After all, lying is bad.)
Hello
Literature
Don't be scared, darling.
We're going to try something new
Eating our meals, and swallowing each bite,
Not hiding the chewed up remains under our tongue,
And not making ourselves vomit through the night.
We're going to try something new,
Bringing the liquor down from our lips,
Not turning to the alcohol for comfort,
Until the addiction rips.
We're going to try something new,
Throwing away the needles, the pins, and the blades
Not searching underneath our skin for emotion,
Watching the wounds and the scars fade.
We're going to try something new,
Darling, I challenge you, I dare you.
We're going to try something new...
Darling,
Why does that scare you?
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i'm gonna be 100% honest, and please, none of you take offense, cause it's got nothing to do with you, nor anyone but me. i've always denied, especially during mania, that i wanted to die. i've told plenty of you, "my mind thinks it want to die." yeah, well, my mind isn't healthy, and i've come to the end of the road recently, unable to lie anymore. towards others, it was denial, because the only time i can truly lie is to myself, i did the same thing when i was diagnosed with MDD. i'm still young, turning 23 in november, but i've gotten old enough to at least admit that this isn't right. yes, ever since i was a child, at LEAST eleven to fifteen years as an estimate, i've been wanting to be "set free." this is the whole reason i wrote entry 10 of DoaSK.
welp, despite having countless numbers of things to live for, there's always been that hole, and even in my right mind, being bouncy, bubbly, and excited like i usually am, it's always there. it's REALLY bad when i can admit these things while stabalized. it's scary. i hope it makes sense when i say, i want to die, but i don't want to want to die.
the good news is, i'm not in any danger. imagine it like a puppy drooping their ears when let down by something. bound by several promises, and reitanna NEVER breaks her promises if she can help it, i resist every urge. i'll simply cry when need be, and i'll hug my rats. i promised them too. i looked both of them in the eyes and said, "i promise i will never leave you." if i made a list of all my reasons to live, it would be long as hell. so WHY the fuck do i STILL feel this way after THIS LONG?? my love for mike, sempai, alexis, ALL OF YOU, is so goddamn huge, i mentally am punching myself saying "why? WHY? stop it! STAHP EET!" i can be happy! i can be silly, encouraging, helpful, and i can just be downright spaztastic! by WHY *hit! head! on! keyboard!* do i still feel this way?!?
this method has worked for me, and it's more harmless than even the rubber band snapping method. whenever i wanna cut myself, and i've tweaked this a bit, i take a red pen/marker and draw butterflies every single place i want to hurt. the concept is, if you cut the butterfly, you kill the butterfly. and i'd NEVER harm a butterfly. also, the butterfly is the symbol we came up for for sempai, so it's like a two in one combo with fries. see? i can still joke! and i don't think it's all "annatier's" fault. i mean, the meds aren't supposed to get rid of emotions, just stabalize them so i don't go ^˅^˅^˅^˅^˅^˅^˅^˅^˅^˅^˅ (whee!) this is why i consider myself insane. at least i know it. all the same, i'm no closer to harming myself than they are closer to making junk food that actually makes you lose weight as fast as regular junk food makes you gain weight. man, wouldn't THAT be nice?
so, my fellow self harmers, try the butterfly thing. i usually like to use pen because you feel the pressure, but you don't actually break skin. and help me, give me advice on how i can somehow suppress these feelings fer realzies? other than suggesting meditation, listing happy things, etc. all the stuff i've really heard before. maybe i should try self brainwashing on THIS subject instead of getting my self to stop pulling out my hair. i think this is a little more important.
sorry for the rant, and please, i hope it didn't make you sad. i mean, i suppose i'm okay, i guess, just a little touched in the head... okay REALLY touched in the head. but that's no surprise to anyone. anyway, iiiiiiiii'm gonna go write porn. oΔo
welp, despite having countless numbers of things to live for, there's always been that hole, and even in my right mind, being bouncy, bubbly, and excited like i usually am, it's always there. it's REALLY bad when i can admit these things while stabalized. it's scary. i hope it makes sense when i say, i want to die, but i don't want to want to die.
the good news is, i'm not in any danger. imagine it like a puppy drooping their ears when let down by something. bound by several promises, and reitanna NEVER breaks her promises if she can help it, i resist every urge. i'll simply cry when need be, and i'll hug my rats. i promised them too. i looked both of them in the eyes and said, "i promise i will never leave you." if i made a list of all my reasons to live, it would be long as hell. so WHY the fuck do i STILL feel this way after THIS LONG?? my love for mike, sempai, alexis, ALL OF YOU, is so goddamn huge, i mentally am punching myself saying "why? WHY? stop it! STAHP EET!" i can be happy! i can be silly, encouraging, helpful, and i can just be downright spaztastic! by WHY *hit! head! on! keyboard!* do i still feel this way?!?
this method has worked for me, and it's more harmless than even the rubber band snapping method. whenever i wanna cut myself, and i've tweaked this a bit, i take a red pen/marker and draw butterflies every single place i want to hurt. the concept is, if you cut the butterfly, you kill the butterfly. and i'd NEVER harm a butterfly. also, the butterfly is the symbol we came up for for sempai, so it's like a two in one combo with fries. see? i can still joke! and i don't think it's all "annatier's" fault. i mean, the meds aren't supposed to get rid of emotions, just stabalize them so i don't go ^˅^˅^˅^˅^˅^˅^˅^˅^˅^˅^˅ (whee!) this is why i consider myself insane. at least i know it. all the same, i'm no closer to harming myself than they are closer to making junk food that actually makes you lose weight as fast as regular junk food makes you gain weight. man, wouldn't THAT be nice?
so, my fellow self harmers, try the butterfly thing. i usually like to use pen because you feel the pressure, but you don't actually break skin. and help me, give me advice on how i can somehow suppress these feelings fer realzies? other than suggesting meditation, listing happy things, etc. all the stuff i've really heard before. maybe i should try self brainwashing on THIS subject instead of getting my self to stop pulling out my hair. i think this is a little more important.
sorry for the rant, and please, i hope it didn't make you sad. i mean, i suppose i'm okay, i guess, just a little touched in the head... okay REALLY touched in the head. but that's no surprise to anyone. anyway, iiiiiiiii'm gonna go write porn. oΔo
© 2013 - 2024 Reitanna-Seishin
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I know this post is really old, but I can't help myself from writing advice anyway.
You seem like someone who needs hugs on a regular basis.
So, I suggest saving up for really big, expensive teddy bears and stuff. Hug the shit out of them during those times when it's 4am and you feel like giving up on sleep and food and hygiene. Or whatever time it may be.
Also, it's very clear that you're trying really hard to direct your mind somewhere more positive. That's good! That what I do, tbh, but I don't really go about the right now. To be positive is to make light of the situation, not deny it or distract yourself from it.
Yeah, buddy, that little part of your brain that wants to die is going to stay there. You're already on a good path to minimizing it, but you still got some way to go. That's okay! Seriously, it's fine. No one can expect you to 'get over it' when it comes to something like this. Shit takes time.
You seem like someone who needs hugs on a regular basis.
So, I suggest saving up for really big, expensive teddy bears and stuff. Hug the shit out of them during those times when it's 4am and you feel like giving up on sleep and food and hygiene. Or whatever time it may be.
Also, it's very clear that you're trying really hard to direct your mind somewhere more positive. That's good! That what I do, tbh, but I don't really go about the right now. To be positive is to make light of the situation, not deny it or distract yourself from it.
Yeah, buddy, that little part of your brain that wants to die is going to stay there. You're already on a good path to minimizing it, but you still got some way to go. That's okay! Seriously, it's fine. No one can expect you to 'get over it' when it comes to something like this. Shit takes time.