If you happen to see this and need some moral support for whatever it is that ails you, this link will be open until the end of the night (9:00p EST)
i can’t get the words
out of the roof of my mouth.
Stuck to the layers of flesh
they cripple and sway.
Youth, taken away from them.
There is nothing left.
I don’t even know if this post will become just that, a post. If you’re in this link right now, hello. It’s Raquel here, blogger of Recovery to Wellness. This is the stuff you don’t see. The behind the scenes. Maybe this will get posted, maybe it won’t.
I just know that I really want help right now and I’m stressed for my final and I know I shouldn’t even have to be, but it sucks and it’s hard and …. I’d just want to cry or curl up in a ball and sob or vent even though venting doesn’t help me and I don’t know what to do and everything just sucks and gah, I hate this.
I don’t want to cope positively right now. I want to curl up in the fetal position and hug my teddy bear/dog thing, and just sob. Sob because I can’t seem to get the right answers on my practice final and cry because it feels like the world is crushing in on me and the stupid join.me site is having some god damn technical difficulties.
I don’t want to self-harm. I don’t want to self-harm. I don’t want to self-harm.
If I repeat it enough times, maybe it’ll become true.
Now there’s no one left in the Join.Me link.
Why am I even bothering with writing this? I specifically do NOT write when I’m stressed or the OCD is knocking tin cans against the jail bars, because it does not HELP ME.
I just WANT SOMEONE to HELP ME.
the words shrivel up on my lips,
nothing is uttered.
there’s always a way to turn back.
she presses ‘publish’.