• mine depressed depression sad health sadness poetry poem mental illness spilled ink mental health TW 2015 sad poem sad poetry what are these tags spilled thoughts spilled writing spilled words spilled emotions spilled text spilled poetry spilled mind stop romanticizing mental illness spilled poem spilled feelings spilled soul angela speaks sorry I was a bit angry spilled ideas lighthowell •
Depression is not Lana Del Rey music,
with smeared black eyeliner and tears running down your face. It is not a blood-stained tub, or the blade sitting across from you. It is not being rocked back and forth by a boy as he kisses your head and whispers “I love you,” repeatedly in your ear. Depression is not the dread you feel when the person you love the most doesn’t text you back. Depression is disgusting. It is low and filthy and dirty and it eats you away, bit by bit. Depression is the stale smell of your room and your clothes, because you have no energy to clean anything. It is sitting in the bathtub for hours as you feel that dirty type of clean, letting the hot water run down your body in no aims to stand up and turn it off. It is the hunch in your back and the the defeated slouch in your shoulders, the kind that your parents always try to fix, exclaiming “Sit up straight,” but what good does that ever do. Depression is the hours spent lying in your bed, trying desperately to fall asleep but never being able to. It is your eyes being so heavy-lidded and the circles under them that don’t fade, even after a good nights sleep. Depression is the sinking feeling you get when you enter school and your mind is already set - why would you care about your grades when you don’t even care about your life? It is the darkest kind of dark, the kind that intoxicates your brain and turns your best friends to enemies, your family to people you simply push away so they don’t have to hurt just because you do. It is the raw feeling of emptiness, the kind that gnaws at your very insides and leaves you nothing more than a walking skeleton, incapacitated and incapable of feeling anything but sorrow and sadness for nobody but yourself. Depression is the deepest hole you could ever think of, the only one you could ever think of because you dug it yourself. It is being not only unable, but unwilling to pull yourself up, having the darkness swallow you whole. Depression is not rain. It is being unable to see the sun, even after the rain has passed.

report
181864 notes / 6 years 2 months ago
me love girl mine life sad forever alone you Personal Scared writing thoughts fear wow feelings ok paint poetry poem emotions spilled ink only spill personal edits spilled thoughts differentregrets spilled words jvl spilled poetry
You are a lighter, and I am a cigarette; harmless until we intervene, fatal when we do.
love mine depression words anxiety Personal writing thoughts feelings poetry poem bipolar spilled ink mental health creative writing creative nonfiction
My older brother received a call at two pm on a Thursday, That his roommate from college And best friend from high school; Overdosed and die...
Black and White sad words thoughts why 10k poetry poem spilled ink spilled thoughts spilled text
Black and White words anxiety writing prose poetry mental illness disorder spilled ink mental health panic panic attack spilled ink prose writers on tumblr spilled ink poetry
Black and White sad words writing thoughts feelings 10k poetry poem spilled ink spilled thoughts
writings quote text sad quotes words writing thoughts text post poetry poem sad quote spilled ink my words creative writing my writing poems my thoughts alt lit my writings sad poem my poetry rejectscorner writers on tumblr my poems my poem creative writings spilled words text poetry wpilled thoughts
Someday, you will find someone, who won’t sigh at words like commitment, and whose jaw won’t clench, when you ask them to stay. ...
You smiling at me. That’s enough.
death mine depression suicide eating disorder anxiety writing self harm poetry poem spilled ink TW spilled thoughts
depressed depression sad writing poetry poem spilled ink love poem sad poem