antisocial extrovert - monday morning - Wattpad

Story cover for antisocial extrovert by rocklee420

antisocial extrovert

Reads 10
Votes 0
Parts 1
Time <5 mins

Reads 10
Votes 0
Parts 1
Time <5 mins

Mature

adhd disturbing energetic mentaldisorder mind suicidalthoughts thoughts

This is basically my thoughts as a person in society with ADHD and how I see the world in certain situations. Not floating thoughts necessarily, but not a story either. TW's : self harm, suicidal thoughts, blood, weapons, drowning. I realized that I categorized this as horror. It may not be your typical slasher but it's what was and is my horror so yes, just to clarify that.All Rights Reserved

adhd disturbing energetic mentaldisorder mind suicidalthoughts thoughts

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Wading
Sat, Nov 26, 2022

1 part

Wading
Sat, Nov 26, 2022

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Save me // ziall ✓ by pxnkedniall

Cuts raced up and down his arms, over more scars caused by a razor. As he lied on his bathroom floor, the blood dripping off his arm, painting a picture on the floor. He got to his feet; slowly and trying not to make a noise. He had relapsed, and hard this time. It was over five months ago when he stopped cutting; but today he just felt to low. The voices inside his head got to loud, and he needed them quiet. He washed off his arms, them cleaned up all the blood and wrapped his arm up. He walked out of the bathroom, head hung and shoulder dropped as he pulled down his long sleeve jacket and return to the boys. He had to be brave, but he also needed someone to save him. He was falling to pieces, and needed someone to super glue him back together and protect him. He was Niall Horan, and he needed a super hero. [Completed; 1-19-2014 ] © wxnderlessdreams 2014

The Bad Boy© (Niall Horan Fanfic) COMPLETED by bellebug23

Sometimes I feel as if I should receive an award for staying strong for so long. When it becomes almost habit to fake a smile everyday and to hardly ever cry no matter how awful I feel is tough. I make it through though. It's life. I feel like crying is a sign of weakness. I guess that's why I hardly ever cry in front of people or even alone for that matter. Only a few people can see the sorrow deep in my eyes. I hide it with laughter and a smile everyday. I'm good at hiding my true feelings and that's not always a good thing. I tend to bottle up my feelings until I burst. I either yell, scream, and fight or I just sit alone and cry for hours. I've only cracked to one person and she is my best friend. She's always been there for me and is like the little sister I never had, but always wanted. No one else has gotten through me yet. I don't know if anyone ever will either. Maybe someday ill find someone that can make my sorrow and pain go away. Maybe someday ill find someone who loves me for me. Maybe someday is sooner than I expect. Maybe it's right around the corner. Can she find love? Will that love be what she expects? Find out in The Bad Boy by bellebug23. Don't steal my story! This is 100% mine. If you find someone that stole it please report them to me after ranting them out and also reporting them! Thank you and enjoy:)*COMPLETED* ALL RIGHTS RESERVED @bellebug23©

Excerpts of A Chaotic Mind by Emotional_Cookies

Welcome to the inner workings of my mind. The thoughts and emotions I battle and the imaginary scenarios I dream up sometimes. Think of this is as my own public diary. . I will warn there are some themes surrounding mental health, self harming thoughts and actions, and talk of traumatising events. Please check tags for trigger warnings.

Fix Me, I'm Broken by Ana11e1y

Walking into an empty house is normal to me. I guess I got tired of saying 'I'm home' when nobody is home to reply. It wasn't always like this. I remember when our family was close. Now we don't see each other any more. We don't talk to each other. We don't eat with each other. We don't ACKNOWLEDGE each other. This all happened after my 'Mother' killed herself. My father blames me. This is my story about how I learned to not count on anyone else but myself. I'm broken. I'm used. No one can fix me. But when the New Boy in town tries to fix me, everything will change. Good change or Bad change, I don't know. Only time will tell. I want to enter this story in the #Wattys2015 please help me out and vote and comment on my story. I'll really appreciate it!!! #Wattys2015 COPYRIGHTED Â© 2014 BY Anallely ALL RIGHTS RESERVED Â®

I'm not Crazy (Larry) by tattoo_Larry

Louis Tomlinson: 24 been in a mental asylum from when he was 18 when his parents found him on the floor off the bathroom with his wrist slit. His family called him crazy said he only wanted attention. They did not know he had depression from being bullied all the time in high school how they keep at it after,going to his job and telling him he was a ugly fag. he was a loner had no one but his sisters tell they turned there back on him and did not even try to stop his parents from taking him away and putting him and this new hell hole of a place called south alexander hospital for the mentally insane. Harry styles: 20 put into south alexander hospital for killing his mom step dad and sister. saying that he was framed and it was a colored man who tied him up and put him into the basement the judge said he was not right in the head and should get help. he has no one and cant get the image of all the dead bodies out of his brain it keeps replaying. the blood the tears the worst part is how he could only tell one person the story because he had to being selective mute only being only to talk to people he trust. ****** HELLO LARRY!!!!!! ok so this has depression self harm and may trigger some so don't read if it might because I love you and want you all to be happy. if you ever need someone to talk to just message me I might can help. this is boy on boy!!!! // Book 1 (Book under slow editing)

𝐌𝐲 𝐑𝐢𝐜𝐡 𝐆𝐮𝐲 ✓ by sixofbrekker

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Flowers by southwestblvrd

I float calmly, eternity surrounds me, I speak no words, but I hear my voice in all directions. I feel my head, it's wet with blood. I feel my stomach, the same. I am dead. I reach my hand out, but I do not feel his grip embrace mine. I look in his direction but he is not there, mere darkness, no blackness, no... there is nothing. I am nowhere. I float alone, in my ears ring melodies that sound familiar but I am sure I've never heard. I feel my identity fading. I float alone, surrounded by infinity. I am free, but I have never felt so trapped. What am I remembering? When did I get here? How many times have I been here? I open my eyes.

My Fucking Mess Of A Life by WillJay25

All the times I've had panic attacks, bad thoughts, etc. Basically all that shitty stuff. Warning: mentions of self harm, negative thoughts, and generally just depressing shit. Updates will happen whenever as I write when stuff happens to me because this is actually a non-fiction story. It doesn't seem like I'll be running out of things to write about any time soon though.

Please, Just Leave Me To Die *Narry Storan* by Oh_How_Original

- Not completed-Do you ever just sit in your room at night and think about everything? Why you were born, what’s the point of living? Are you even needed in this cruel world? Do you ever just think, would anyone even miss me if I’m gone? These thoughts run through my mind pretty much every night. I lie in bed, staring at my ceiling with tears rolling down my cheeks. Normally along with several fresh marks embedded into my stomach and skin. Nobody would ever know though, why would they? It’s not like my family are remotely interested in me or anybody for that manner. Well, I use the term ‘family’ extremely loosely. My ‘family’ basically consists of me living with my uncle who doesn’t even register that I’m living in the same house as him. He basically uses me for the benefits so he can buy more cigarettes and spent more money on prostitutes. I use the term ‘house’ loosely also, I wouldn’t call it a house. I would call it a two bedroomed shack on the rough side of town

F*** Cancer, This One Did Us All In. by IgnotusCapillary

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Save me // ziall ✓

Cuts raced up and down his arms, over more scars caused by a razor. As he lied on his bathroom floor, the blood dripping off his arm, painting a picture on the floor. He got to his feet; slowly and trying not to make a noise. He had relapsed, and hard this time. It was over five months ago when he stopped cutting; but today he just felt to low. The voices inside his head got to loud, and he needed them quiet. He washed off his arms, them cleaned up all the blood and wrapped his arm up. He walked out of the bathroom, head hung and shoulder dropped as he pulled down his long sleeve jacket and return to the boys. He had to be brave, but he also needed someone to save him. He was falling to pieces, and needed someone to super glue him back together and protect him. He was Niall Horan, and he needed a super hero. [Completed; 1-19-2014 ] © wxnderlessdreams 2014