fatanyu

“I think I’m in hell.”

you make me feel worse than I already feel, and I feel like someone is driving a star picket through my lower back, sooooo….

What you need to do when I ask for a painkiller: Give me a fucking painkiller.

What you don’t need to do when I ask for a painkiller: Sigh in consternation, comment about how it’s the second to last dose on the card and once we’re out that’s it there’s no more, point out that I’ve “hit this card really hard” (sorry about that, still trying to get my pain scheduled over the month, you know? I can’t quite work out how, but it MUST be possible, the way you act), generally plunge me into the highly distressed mood I am now and exacerbate the pain I’m already in tenfold.

It’s always “you need to ask for one when you need one!” or “you shouldn’t ask for one, you’ve had too many!” and I’m sorry, I’m not a fucking mindreader so I don’t know which one it is at any given time. If you could send me a schedule of what it’s going to be on what day, that would be great with the whole scheduling my pain thing, too. Thanks!

You fucking people wonder why I’m a fucking suicidal addict, honestly? Do you really?

what if I’m a siren singing gentlemen to sleep?

i dropped off the face of the earth, or at least…i tried very hard to.

i didn’t succeed, quite obviously.

am I disappointed?
I don’t know, any more. I don’t…want to die. Not really.

I just wanted the pain to stop so badly. I don’t remember much…hugging my pink cat to my chest, wetting his silly spotted fur with my tears, apologising to him.

I still want the pain to stop. I want to go one day without crying out of frustration, or pain, or despair. Or for any reason, come to think about it…

Give me wings, starlight, and shimmering shadow things…

needs must.

another wasted day spent in bed. considering that i currently find lifting my coffee mug a savage exertion on par with lifting an elephant one-handed, perhaps it was the best place to be. or it would have been, if the mattress wasn’t so hideous that lying flat on one’s belly hurts. but what can you do. what can you do, you might as well not worry about it.

except…things don’t work that way. nothing changes if nothing changes. i don’t understand why we have to exist in a pit of despair, then pretend to be happy with it. it’s utter poison and it’s destroying my soul. maybe not everything can be perfect, but can’t some things be mended, all the same? and i don’t mean mending in the sense of “ignore what’s wrong and keep smiling because stressing about these things is exhausting”, because that isn’t mending, it’s outright bloody ignorance–!!

living in despair and pain is stressful and exhausting on its own. ignoring it doesn’t make it stop.

i can’t keep living like this…it isn’t living…it’s barely existing. and it’s existing in such a painful and sorrowful state that the opposite seems a sane option.

i am very, very tired, and very, very, very sad.

take me to Imladris.

I’m tired of trauma. I’m tired of it existing and I’m tired of having to deal with it. I wish it would just fall through me like rain and dry off and not mean anything. I’m tired of crying and I’m tired of PTSD spirals and I’m tired of adrenaline nausea and I’m tired of second-guessing the actions I take to keep myself as safe and sane as I’ll ever get — I’m tired, I’m tired, I’m tired of it all. I’m tired of fake-ass people on the internet and people who can’t be bothered reading a simple list of rules and people with the general attention span of a TikTok video. I’m just.

Why am I here? Why is everything like this? I try so fucking hard to change it and I just end up with scraped knuckles and wounds and I can’t anymore. I don’t want to. If it doesn’t get any better than this, then I don’t want to keep going with it. I’m fucking tired.

inexorably.

I can’t feel anything. I’m moving my face and making the right noises so nobody will know there’s anything amiss, but I can’t feel a thing. Everything’s been put on pause again, and I don’t feel a thing.

In the back of my mind, somewhere, I know that there’s a tsunami sweeping in. But I can’t make my legs move to run to higher ground. I’m not sure higher ground even exists.

I wish it would stop raining.