Everything is temporary. You and I are temporary. My thoughts are too heavy - they make me unsteady. This feeling - way too scary - temporary. My connections to the people I love? Temporary. My descent grades? Temporary. My last few moments of good mental health? They were temporary.
You know what isn't temporary?
My failures. My insignificance. My uselessness. My sheer lack of a will to live. My suicide attempts. My anxiety. The scars on my thighs and upper arms.
None of those are temporary.
None.
Someone just end my suffering? Please?
I can't go on like this.
((Ok I'm sorry I'm so suicidal but here ya go))
YOU ARE READING
dear insecurities
Randomidk I'm sorry I need someone to talk to that someone is this sad excuse of a book
