A while ago, I penned a fairly angry response to something circulating on the internet – the 21 Habits of Happy People. It pissed me off beyond belief, that there was an inference that if you weren’t Happy, you simply weren’t doing the right things.
“That’s the thing about depression: A human being can survive almost anything, as long as she sees the end in sight. But depression is so insidious, and it compounds daily, that it’s impossible to ever see the end.”—Elizabeth Wurtzel, Prozac Nation (via sarahthelittlemermaid)
“I think once you’ve thought about how a person sleeps, how they’d feel pressed up against your back, or your head on their chest, how compatible your bodies would be in the same space of a bed — once you’ve thought about that, you’re fucked.”—(via pentrutoti)
“a bouquet of clumsy words: you know that place between sleep and awake where your still dreaming but it`s slowly slipping? i wish we could feel like that more often. i also wish i could click my fingers three times and be transported to anywhere i like. i wish that people didn`t always say ‘just wondering’ when you both know there was a real reason behind them asking. and i wish i could get lost in the stars. listen, there`s a hell of a good universe next door, let`s go”—e.e. cummings (via skeletongarden)
I can’t do this anymore. I’m so sick of being treated as though I’m worth nothing. No matter what I do, no matter how great of an effort I make, I can’t salvage a 5 year friendship that meant the world to me, I can’t maintain a stable relationship with my mom; let alone even be in the same room with her (without a psych present), and I can’t seem to have any luck with people in general… Honestly what am I doing with my life. Something has to be wrong, I have to be worth something to someone. I’d like to think I deserve better than this, but that doesn’t seem to be the truth. It would be so easy to quit, and I probably will.