One in a Million

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Reads 5
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Parts 1
Time <5 mins

anxiety backstabbing depression explore happyending hurt jas lonelines lonely love lovestory mental million newstory one romance theone truestory

Time after time, I get let down. My happiness never lasts... never. Slowly throughout my 20 years on earth, I've driven myself into depression. I can't get out! I've tried everything. Wait... who is he?All Rights Reserved

anxiety backstabbing depression explore happyending hurt jas lonelines lonely love lovestory mental million newstory one romance theone truestory

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Just the beginning
Thu, Jan 2, 2020

1 part

Just the beginning
Thu, Jan 2, 2020

#808mental

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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

"Why do you allow me back into your life? You know I'm only going to push you away again," he said with all honestly, not to hurt her, but because he knew how he behaved with her. And a part of him doubted that he would change. Even for her. "Because one day, you are going to realize what we have, and you won't push me away," she answered. It's funny how life can be so perfect one moment, and so awful the next. Other people are usually the cause of this back and forth, but what if it was just one person? One who couldn't love themselves, so they were incapable of loving others? John and Arianna have known each other since they were young. Friends, lovers, enemies: they have been through it all. They go through years of ups and downs, the losses, the gains, the middle ground as they try to find their way. Find their life. Will they be together? Or will circumstances keep tearing them apart? Only time will tell if their love will remain... Unrequited.

The flames of my mind, The words of my soul , Read and share, And yeah don't forget to vote.... Please omit the typing mistakes ©are reserved

He want's to show her what it really means to truly be loved by someone Daily updates* TW: ⚠️ abuse, sh, cussing, mentions of suicide https://open.spotify.com/playlist/6NxYlDN2T2tsztVYUJYAsg?si=GSQrM3vgQ0m_fIQNTv9O4Q&pi=u-x_HUVcFKTpi9

Trigger warning for the following: -mature content -some strong language -fighting -mentions of abuse Everything was cool. It was fine and normal until, a new family moves I'm next door. The beautiful family seemed normal enough, but something was off. Their son didn't fit into the rest of them. He was mysterious and seemed a little bit standoffish. He seemed rude and like he didn't belong. Meeting him went well, and she catches his eye. Going to school together and their families spending some time together causes them to grow closer. So close that things happen. What happens? Do sparks fly?

This is my story. My life. Now before you read or turn away, I must warn you my life is anything but normal. Bad luck seems to follow me and everyone I love. Abuse, drugs, alcohol, heartbreak, loss; all of the above. I still don't know how I am here. Dealing with this endless cycle of depression and darkness.

One Soul In Two Bodies [ONESHOT] by Mintiezzz

You suffer in a tragic love story, where, your athletic lover suffers an unfortunate accident. Think of it like this, you love to paint in favor of your enjoyment. What happens when someone takes all the color in the world? You simply cannot paint anymore. You cannot do what you love as you cannot find love in what you do anymore. Nevertheless, you decide to be there for them. Are you ready to challenge the red strings of fate?

"Who are you?" "You don't remember me?" "No, I'm sorry." tw//mentions depression/anxiety/a bit of ptsd [completed] Started: Aug/27/2020 Ended: Aug/19/2022

This is a series of short stories, poems and thoughts I've written over the years, compiled into this collection. Most of these were written years ago. Some I've written as early as this year (2025). The purpose of this volume is to feel. Feel everything as though you are the main character experiencing each emotion expressed through my writing. These are written through my perspective as a woman, but please let this resonate with you regardless of your identity. Please vote, comment, like and share. Thank you! - nhiamare

Self love, Self finding, Mystery, Fantasy, Short Story I've tried, to be happy, to forget, but it's hard when there's nothing to be happy about and it's hard when it's impossible to forget. The pain stays, and I let it. Days become impossible. It's never ending. All I want is for it to stop. So I can be alone, again. It's a mystery how I can still laugh, How I can put on this act It's been a while And I forget how long I've been faking How can I become real again? How can I find me? In a dream, it's what I need, it's what I've wanted, so how do I make it, reality? How do I get out of this trap, that keeps me, From being happy.

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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