I wish none of you were sad

The problem with depression is


-You know you’ll be ok, but you still feel awful.
-You know people love you, but it doesn’t feel like they do.
-You know doing something will make you feel better, but you just don’t know how to.
-You want to be well, but you just can’t seem to get there.

I am so sorry to all the people I hurt while I was hurting.

(Source: hatredly)


”It’s funny how i thoughtI was good at hiding myfellings, but then strangersstarted asking me what waswrong and why I looked sotired and that’s when I realized you didn’t care enough to notice”By: Simone // creakz


”It’s funny how i thought
I was good at hiding my
fellings, but then strangers
started asking me what was
wrong and why I looked so
tired and that’s when I 
realized you didn’t care 
enough to notice”

By: Simone // creakz

(Source: creakz)

If you look at the fact that you have a roof over your head, food to eat, that you are young and beautiful and live in a peaceful land, then no, you have nothing to be sad about. But the fact is, we are not only a physical body, we have souls too, and sometimes our souls get sick. If you break a leg you don’t just say ‘I have no reason to have a broken leg’ and ignore it; you seek help. It’s the same when your soul gets hurt. Don’t apologize for being sad.
She thinks I’m strong because I can push everything into the dark. But it leaves me empty. And the dark always finds me in my sleep.




depression is not tragically beautiful
depression is not roses sprouting from wrists
it is not beautiful girls with delicate bones
it is lying in a pile of your own blood for hours
thinking that maybe if you keep on waiting
that maybe you’ll be swallowed up
depression is Tuesday mornings
spent puking up vodka
from last nights sleepless hysterics
depression is standing in your best friend’s bathroom
on some midnight in january
sobbing as you drag a blade across your wrist
depression is not being able to use red pens
or sewing needles anymore
depression is blood stains on your sheets
and rusty blades shoved under pillows
depression is sitting in a school stall
and carving your feelings into your flesh
depression is sitting in therapy
and swearing you’ll be okay
not knowing whether that’s the truth or not
depression is lying with dry eyes and staring at the ceiling
as you watch the alarm clock go off
missing another night’s sleep
it’s sleeping for days on end because it’s all you can do
to avoid the screaming of the demons
it’s missing schoolwork and failing tests
and yelling parents who don’t understand
it’s friends who see selfishness
and teachers who see laziness
it’s very rarely the golden girl
struggling through a difficult time
it’s blood and guts and tears
never beauty, never quiet, never calm
it’s screaming so loudly that your throat goes hoarse
but never hearing the sound come out
it’s not valiant, not admirable
not poetic nor enviable
it’s a bloody, harrowing, disgusting


There’s something good coming to you, I promise. If not today, then some time later. Just you wait precious, it get’s better