Strangled

“The feeling of empty. The feeling of scared. The feeling of pain. Thats my life in 3 sentences. Im afraid of everything, and I’m mostly keeping everything for myself because no one will understand me anyway. Im getting strangled in my own thoughts.”

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2. Fake smile, over & over

Standing in front of the sink of blood, with a crushed veneer. Im cutting the ropes so it can let me fall. Away from everything. All the problems that no one understands anyway. This little monster that’s inside me  is about to burst out like an explosion. An explosion that no one will be prepared for, because people doesn’t know how i am or how I feel. The’ve never seen the person behind my facade that is blocking the tears from pouring out of me. 

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Mum made a delicious dinner (as SHE called it). For me it is just filled with fat- and ugliness. But I clean my plate, yet I’m still famished starving for something other than food. Emptiness. Im slightly jumping upstairs and put on some loud music to cover up the purging sounds from the bathroom. I hate it. I hate the smell of vommit. The way it looks. But then I think to myself: ​Who wants to recover? It took me years to get this tiny. I’m not sick; I’m strong. And that is pretty much whats keeping me up. To see the happiness in my mums eyes when I tell her that I actually ate my lunch, but I didn’t and I’m not going to. The feeling of empty, is the feeling of breathing.

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In school, I actually got many people to speak with. The persons that calls them my “best friends”.
I really wouldn’t call anyone my friend until something has been proven. I can trust nobody. I’m afraid of everything, but nobody knows. Nobody knows that when I’m going to do an presentation fx in class, I can feel my heart almost jumping out of me, and my body is about to stop. That’s how afraid I am, but still.. No one will ever know, so as long as I just hide my arms with long, covering sleeves and puts on the fake smile, everything will stay standard and I can walk around in silent. Thank God.

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That’s pretty much my life. I could fill it in with more than thousands of other stories. But these are the main reason to why my life is so fucking messed up. I can’t do this no more, but I’m strong and I know I can do it. Tomorrow is a new day, new story, but actually just another nightmare.

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