Endless

Endless

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WpMetadataReadMatureOngoing2h 15m
WpMetadataNoticeLast published Sun, Aug 20, 2023
I can't be happy. Its something I just can't do. I know I tried, who knows how long I did, but I just can't manage to. I never seem to get it, you know? People say it's beacause of trauma, but I don't seem to remember anything from my past. Sometimes I get angry and "depressed", that's what my mother use to tell me, but I don't believe her. Not anymore. She lies, a lot. Nobody really knows me, I don't eather. I just feel that I don't belong anywhere. "Your different", people used to tell me. But I just felt strange, nothing really. I don't really care anymore. In the end nothing really matters. No one really cares enough to ask anyway, and I'm fucking tired, of waiting for a response.
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This book is my life laid bare - a story of pain, loneliness, and mental chaos that most people don't see. It's about the slow, unbearable unravelling of a mind caught in the grips of depression, anxiety, trauma, and heartbreak. There's no sugarcoating here. No fairy tales or hopeful endings. This is a glimpse into what it feels like to be completely lost inside yourself, where every day is a battle to hold on, even when you don't know what you're holding onto anymore. I write about the nights filled with overwhelming silence that screams louder than any words. About the weight of memories and pain so heavy it crushes the light out of your life. This story doesn't shy away from the darkest parts: the thoughts that haunt you, the self-hate that grows quietly, the invisible scars left by emotional abuse and trauma. It's about fighting to survive when it feels like there's nothing left inside you but broken pieces. But more than that, it's about the truth of living with a mind that doesn't always want to be healed, a heart that keeps breaking even when you try to protect it, and a soul that longs for peace but only finds pain. I'm not telling this story for sympathy or comfort. I'm telling it because this is real. Because sometimes, the only way to breathe is to say out loud what hurts the most. If you're tired of pretending everything's okay, if you've ever felt like no one truly understands the storm inside your head, then this book is for you. It's not easy to read - but it's real, and it's mine. Welcome to my garden of dead things.

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