Death is easy. Living is hard.

[FreshBeginnings]

This is pretty much about about my struggles with depression, derealization, self harm, and my eating disorder. Tell me what you think.

How do you know when you've hit the bottom? My bottom's not bleeding from sharp rocks, but my heart feels like it's about to stop. I've run out of paint to put a smile on my face, and frowning feels more natural anyway. Friends seem more like foes when your ears hear their words project my insecurities on their lips. The line between love and hate disappears; cuddling feels like being strangled, kisses feel like being suffocated. I can't tell what's real and what's not; there's a blur between my reality and my thoughts. The moon is laughing at me; the sky could capture me.. so I'm waiting for my tears to drown me. I've been sending calls for help; SOS, save my soul! But now I'm glad I didn't pass swimming class.. because when my body deteriorated with my mind, there was no one to tell me: "you look like death, but you deserve to live." And when I bleed through my arms to make sure blood is still flowing thought my body, there was no one to touch me to make me feel real. And if crying for help isn't going to save me, then I'll let my tears flow until death finds me.

Note: I wrote this in 10 minutes while I was upset.. so sorry if it sucks!

[Lady Persephone]

No, it doesn't suck at all . . . it's really beautiful. And true.