Outbreaks Of a Depressive
- MGA BUMASA 21
- Mga Boto 0
- Mga Parte 6
Ongoing20m
Huling na-publish Sat, Apr 10, 2021
Several dawns, I drowned myself in tears, thinking about life and all my concepts...
Fear and despair took over my soul for long days, I could not find an outlet for my thoughts, or concrete conclusions about my concepts and precepts, then I took a pen and paper, there were seven pages of feelings passed in clean, hoping to get them organized, and it worked, I found no explanation for everything I feel and think, but I managed to calm the soul, I could organize my thoughts.
At the end of seven pages I wrote as follows:
It's good to let off steam, writing is more than just therapy, it's a meeting with the soul
It's listening to it and putting down on paper what it cries out, it's searching deep down inside, hidden feelings.
It is these hidden feelings that disturb us unconsciously and consciously.
These feelings of cowardice, fragility, hurt, resentment...
To write for me is to stop being dominated by these feelings and to manage them in a way that they don't destroy me psychologically,
It is to give comfort to the soul, it is the search for inner peace, for the point of equilibrium.
At the end of my words and of my literary vent.
All Rights Reserved
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Trash Book of Extra.
Warning: I am a weirdo. This will contain some thoughts of mine, some poems, some deep shit, some thoughts I have as I go through the journey of self-exploration, lmao. Some chapters may be seen as too controversial but whatever you know. I mean, reading this is your choice. You don't have to. I mean, I'd like you all to read every chapter but it's not a story book so you may skip some chapters you don't like and read the ones that you do like. P.S. I do not deny that my thoughts are somewhat influenced by my environment and experiences. Also, this is the real me. Some people think I'm quiet and cold-hearted but on the inside I'm actually a big softie with feelings. To be honest, it's kinda my fault since I hate revealing my emotions to other people or even asking for help until I have to. And even then, I start hating myself for being such a weakling. That is a major character flaw of mine that I must overcome!Kumpleto
YOU NAME IT
Who knows how to think anymore? Or even what to think? With all the confusion around me, I decided to grab a pen and just let it runKumpleto
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 overboardKumpleto
Secret Mind ✓
"She's right! She's right! I don't cut in the right spot." My hold tightens on my wrist. The red blood oozes out of my wrist. I slide up and grab my bag and run out of the bathroom. I don't care if people can see the blood I just want to get out. I race for the doors and shove through people. I earn a lot of glares and glances that read "weirdo." I ignore and push. I run to my house and lock myself in my bathroom. I don't bother closing the front door cause I don't care if people come in to kill me. I grab my razor and cut deep cuts into my arm and wrists falling into a pool of my own blood. • • • Evangeline has a great life. Friends? Check! Good grades? Check! Loving family? Check! But what if she has secrets that nobody knows of? What if the only thing she can trust is her secret diary? What if slowly but surly she's dying inside? How can an innocent twelve year old deal with these problems? Will she keep on facing these problem till the day she breaks. Her school burns down forcing her into a different school to meet different people and she has to fit into a different lifestyle as well. Meet Evangeline. Now at 17 years of age in a new high school. Not all girls anymore. No uniform. Meet Drake. Your classic bad-boy. He just moved to Saint Abigail high school. He is assigned partners with the quiet, calm, unnoticed Evangeline. As time progresses he finds that she isn't as happy on the inside as she is on the outside. Can he save her? Or is it too late? • • • Some rude language. Depression and cutting. Don't say I didn't warn you. Okay, I wrote this at the start of this year (may 2016) and I had very poor writing skills. This book hasn't been edited and the whole idea is cliche so I wouldn't recommend you read it but I'm not stopping you, either. Read at your own risk. • • • Copyright © 2017 by -moonlust. All rights reserved.Kumpleto
My Poetry Escape
I may just be a girl. No one special. Nothing compared to others. In the eyes of the universe, I am just a little speck of dust. My light may not shine very bright, and it may not be of any use, but I am me. Writing is my only escape out of this world. I cry rivers of ink and climb mountains of words. I may not write as well as others, but my writing is just a different style. They're my feelings. I really do hope you can connect to some of the work in here. Please, do not copy any of this work without informing me first. Thank you! "My Escape" I have a supply, In the closet near my bed, Of past memories, Hanging by a thread. A thread, Connected to my mind, That thread, Just follows me around. I have a hole, In the middle of my heart, That hole fills up, When someone's torn apart. I have a tear, Accompanying my lonely eye, Knowing, whenever I'm alone, I can sit in a corner and cry. Even though, These things are there, I still have ink, a notebook, and a pen, To care. I write and write, To my heart's desire, New feelings erupt, By the hour. Writing is, My one escape, In this cruel and careless world, I have the power, to awake. "A Story Without Words" A story told, In a little tune, A golden smile, And a shining tear, Rolling down my cheek. A little breeze, The nice sun, A marvelous day, Turned into a wet one. The memories dripped, Down on my cotton white shirt, Leaving stains, On my malicious heart. Your smile, Worth a thousand words, Can't cheer up This depressive mind. A storm bewildered, Your indecisive mind, Drowning me, In my reckless thoughts. A rainy day, A gleaming lie, A story not told, With words Nor sounds. This story is, But a mere thought, In this universe We share, Every night. This story is, A withering storm, Drifting off, In this careless soul. This story is, Not told with sounds, But a never ending blow, Of swirling emotions, Bottled up inside.Kumpleto
Infinite Love: A Diary of Remembrance
Content warning: There are sections of writing in this book which contain references to suicidal ideation, self-harm, hallucinations and delusions both psychotic and neurotic. The writing within this book is the direct writing from my day-to-day diary that had been kept from 6 January, 2020 until May 24, 2020. Serendipitously, I was in the middle of a great struggle when I first began writing in it, and it eventually became too much to bear. There was inevitably a so-called awakening, which gave me the very simple knowing of who I am (and who you are) and which allowed me to deepen within myself through this knowing. It was a stillness that was such an obvious thing in my existence that it had always been subconsciously overlooked as unimportant. It isn't satisfying to the mind to just be, but it is infinitely satisfying to the being to just be. Nothing is missing and nothing needs to be found. This is the simplicity of the still, non-phenomenal being which is in fact yourself and myself, as one Self. This book is something which came out of that stillness, and held within it is an attempt to point towards whatever this is that I have discovered as myself. I do hope that you find it somewhat enjoyable and perhaps learn a thing or two about yourself. Thank you.Kumpleto
Logan
*TW* Contains topics and scenes of sexual assault, self-harm, abuse.* "You know you loved every second of it," I can feel the tears welling up as well as the anger building up within me. I stare at him for a while before I have to turn away from his hungry gaze. "Look I just came here to tell you that I forgive you for what you did back in Cali and I'll take you back," "You forgive me?" I yell. "I did nothing to you. You raped me! You fucking raped me! You have no right to come here and tell me that. You. Forgive. Me. You traumatized me. What you did to me tore me up inside and was eating away at me until I tried to kill myself. And when I told people they didn't believe me. I had to listen to so many people talk about how great a guy you were and how I clearly just regretted sleeping with you. You are a monster. You made me hate myself for something that was never my fault. You have caused me so much pain and suffering," I pause to take a deep breath. "So you don't get to come here to my school and tell me you forgive me. You don't get to make me feel bad about coming forward. The only thing I regret is ever thinking you were a good person." _____________________________________________ Logan Young is a 16-year-old girl about to start her senior year in a brand new town. The past year has been tough and her family moved to give her a fresh start. Her life before the move had been hard and she had been spiraling. She quickly makes new friends and even enemies. She builds up walls to protect herself. But what happens when an unlikely person helps her to tear down her walls and heal. Will she be able to survive in this new place and keep her secrets intact?Kumpleto
A Love Beyond Names
How did we get to this? Or rather, when? After you, I realized that time, circumstances, or simply us, because we are not perfect beings, but we try to be the best version of ourselves day by day, can be destined to be together and last as long as we are willing. Nostalgia flooded my body when I passed by our quiet, lonely, and green park, the one that welcomed us when we were together, just you and me. I saw that old, worn-out bench sitting empty; it was impossible not to remember the afternoons we spent there, laughing, dreaming, enjoying each other's company. From the moment I saw you that coincidental day, I knew that love had finally arrived in my life, and I will continue to stand by your side as your wife until my body can no longer go on.Kumpleto
Warning: I am a weirdo. This will contain some thoughts of mine, some poems, some deep shit, some thoughts I have as I go through the journey of self-exploration, lmao. Some chapters may be seen as too controversial but whatever you know. I mean, reading this is your choice. You don't have to. I mean, I'd like you all to read every chapter but it's not a story book so you may skip some chapters you don't like and read the ones that you do like. P.S. I do not deny that my thoughts are somewhat influenced by my environment and experiences. Also, this is the real me. Some people think I'm quiet and cold-hearted but on the inside I'm actually a big softie with feelings. To be honest, it's kinda my fault since I hate revealing my emotions to other people or even asking for help until I have to. And even then, I start hating myself for being such a weakling. That is a major character flaw of mine that I must overcome!
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