Dear Depression

LECTURAS 353
Votos 25
Partes 11
Hora <5 mins

LECTURAS 353
Votos 25
Partes 11
Hora <5 mins

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The darkness is so exhausting. I just want to lay down and fall into an eternal sleep. But I cannot stop running. Just because I cannot see the end of the tunnel, does not mean it isn't there. I must continue forward.Todos los derechos reservados

awareness depression hope ididntloveyou letters loveletter mental mentalillness mentalillnessawareness shortstory wattys2018

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11 partes

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"There comes a point where you no longer care if there's a light at the end of the tunnel or not. You're just sick of the tunnel." - Who I am doesn't matter. How I got here doesn't matter. What matters now is I'm getting help, right? That's what they tell me here. They tell me that the road to recovery feels like a terrible butt fuck, but the fact that you're on the path to begin with, is all that matters. So as I sit in this circle of fuck ups, I realize just how different I am from them. I didn't attempt suicide because my mother was a crack addict who didn't want me. My father wasn't abusive. I didn't have a sibling die in a car accident. I was never really bullied either. I attempted suicide because, for the first time in years, I thought I had found something that could make me feel again... and after not feeling much at all for far too long, perhaps I went a bit overboard

I saw her long before she saw me. She didn't know then that her fate had already been sealed, that every step she took was drawing her closer to me. Closer to what she would become. There was something in her-something fragile, something wild. A fear she tried to hide, wrapped in defiance and confidence. It was intoxicating, watching her, knowing that no one else could see what I saw. No one else could feel the pull like I did. The slow, deliberate unraveling of her world as it would soon be tethered to mine. I felt my heart beat once, hard and fast. It was the only signal I needed. She would be mine-not in some fleeting, hollow way. No. I would strip away every shield, every defense, until she was laid bare, body and soul. And when she looked at me for the first time, I knew. She was already mine. A. Trigger Warning ⚠️: This story contains intense and graphic content, exploring dark and disturbing themes that may be triggering for some readers. Sensitive topics are depicted throughout. Reader discretion is strongly advised. Proceed with caution: after this point, no additional warnings will be provided.

I'm stuck. Nowhere to go, no way out. I just have to sit here and hope whoever I get sold off to is going to at least give me some freedom. Though I highly doubt it. The way things are going for me here anyway, it's not like I have any hope at surviving, let alone living. Whoever get's me is probably going to be worse than here and I can not stop it. Can I?

He put his hand on mine, stopping me from signing. "I need you to take this seriously. This isn't a game. This isn't a movie. If you sign this, your body will be mine. No safe words, no romancing, no cuddling. I will use you how I wish. Do things to you, you won't even have seen in porn. I will hurt you, abuse you, make you want me to stop, then beg me to continue. "Finally, I will throw you away when I have had my fill. You can try to escape, in fact, I encourage it, but I will find you and the chase will only excite me more, which won't end well for you. You wanted excitement; here it is. You wanted pleasure, you will get it, but reality isn't always better than fantasy. I can almost guarantee you will regret this." "Are you trying to put me off?" He smiled down at me. "I won't be accused of miss-selling. You either want it or you don't. Well, Faye. What will it be?" ~~~~~~~~ Faye has her sights set on starting a business with her best friend, but a decision from her past makes an appearance at her business pitch to a potential investor and threatens to ruin her plans for the second time. She learnt her lesson signing contracts with this man but Faye is a sucker for adventure and still believes she is strong enough to survive Dominic Sand. Warning - Explicit, abusive content. Darkly sexual.

Do you ever feel alone? Feel like you're not needed in this world? Feel left out? This book has 12 short stories to help you get through your problems. It has stories of people's experiences in so you don't have to. You're not alone and with this book I hope you can find your guide to the end of the tunnel.

The dark abyss that is my mind: part one de EmmatheShipper

Do you know that feeling? Nothing matters, nobody cares, life has no meaning. That feeling that you want to just give up? That all you do is use up space and annoy people? That everybody is better off without you? That's me everyday. Every single day I have to restrain myself from jumping in front of a car or taking all my pills all at once. These short stories are my thoughts when I'm alone.

"I wonder if it's possible to lose myself if I never knew really knew who I was to start with." [a short story dealing with bipolar]

I'm running away . The truth is I can't face reality after I chose a path that hurt me too much so now I do what I do best and that's run . I've always been athletic and somehow I've always found myself running . Love doesn't choose who or how ,but I made it so here I am . My mother doesn't know and she should never know and so my sister too. This is the only way to hurt less people and try and be happy . I'm sorry ...

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The dark abyss that is my mind: part one cover

Someone New ✓

"There comes a point where you no longer care if there's a light at the end of the tunnel or not. You're just sick of the tunnel." - Who I am doesn't matter. How I got here doesn't matter. What matters now is I'm getting help, right? That's what they tell me here. They tell me that the road to recovery feels like a terrible butt fuck, but the fact that you're on the path to begin with, is all that matters. So as I sit in this circle of fuck ups, I realize just how different I am from them. I didn't attempt suicide because my mother was a crack addict who didn't want me. My father wasn't abusive. I didn't have a sibling die in a car accident. I was never really bullied either. I attempted suicide because, for the first time in years, I thought I had found something that could make me feel again... and after not feeling much at all for far too long, perhaps I went a bit overboard

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