I’m Great and You Can Fuck Off

I haven’t written in a while because nothing has really been going on but I am writing today because I am so pissed off that some people think that being depressed is a choice. If you do, you can fuck off.

I get really upset and distant when people say that what I am going through is a choice; I personally want to crawl out of my skin because that is how much pain I am in. I hope you never have to experience this type of pain. So before you judge someone with mental illness, maybe you should stop and put yourself in there shoes and think before you talk and hurt their feelings.

From now on, don’t ask me if I am ok because from now on, I am great! It’s a choice right? Just don’t ask me. You can call me stubborn or willful or whatever but from now on I will be the only one that knows how I feel and from now on, you don’t have to worry about me because I am fine.

Peace out,



Please Stay with Me

My heart is aching, my body is breaking and I don’t know what to do. There are so many thoughts that go along with being like this. I am stupid, ungrateful and dumb but really all I feel is numb. You will never understand because your feet aren’t in the same place that I stand. I stand among you but you don’t know the thoughts that pass through my mind; the thoughts that come and go. My world is shifting and I tend to fall. I get up again and again but I am so tired and don’t stand as tall as you. I slouch and crouch down so I can’t be seen. I can’t let you see me and what this all means. I don’t understand it myself because I am so lost and it’s dark here. I want to be better but there feels like there is no end in sight. Some days are light but the darkness sets in and there is nothing in front of me or in back of me, just an abyss. You face the night but I face the darkness. I can’t see my hand in front of me because it is too dark. Even the bright white of my hand can’t be seen in front of my face. My thoughts are just as dark but I try not to let you see because how would you feel about me? If I really told you my thoughts I know you would run; run as far as you can because who wants to be next to me? Do you really want to walk by my side to go with me step by step? I am safe and I am not actively hurting myself; they are just thoughts and thoughts they will stay because I could never die that way. Please stay with me and see my thoughts. Please don’t leave me because I can’t take that loss. Please stay with me because I can’t be alone. Please stay with me because I can’t be left behind. Please stay with me until this passes. Please stay with me.

Until next time,

I wish I wasn’t a borderline


I was angry but you weren’t there.

I was crying but you weren’t there.

I was confused but you weren’t there.

I hated myself but you weren’t there.

I was judgemental of myself but you weren’t there.

I said hurtful things to myself but you weren’t there.

I was tormented but you weren’t there.

I was falling but you weren’t there.

I was alone but you weren’t there.

In the end you were there all along but I wouldn’t let you be. In the end, I wouldn’t let anyone get close to me.

Looking back, I can see the path I walked- in and out and with each step I would shout.

But you weren’t there and neither was I because whenever you would say, ‘are you ok?’ I would whisper back, ‘I’m fine.’

Until next time,


I Can See Them Circling

Some days I am a fawn jumping in the lush meadow. I don’t have a care in the world except for the wet, morning dew on the small pads on the bottom of my feet. 

I feel like that sometimes; I am just prancing around, loving life and loving most of the people that I surround myself with. I can feel the sun on my face, the warmth and the heat. I can see how bright the sun makes the meadow around me; it is bright and full of life- the tall grass sways gently in the morning breeze. I feel at home here and I feel alive and happy but deep inside of myself, I also feel vulnerable.

Other days, on the hardest days, I can feel that hunter stalking me in the woods. It’s not a regular hunter; it’s emptiness, embarrassment and shame. The hunter is the feeling that I am not good enough and not feeling like I am worthy of other people’s love and affection; and worse yet, their time.

I can feel myself cautiously moving through the trees. The temperature drops a good ten degrees as I carefully move through the wooded forest. Somehow, I feel safer in the cover of the trees, less vulnerable I guess, than in the open meadow. The trees provide a sanctuary for me and I can feel their protection but of course, I am alone. In the meadow, I may be happier but I am scared and I am cautious because out in the open field, other deer can see me and I feel like my every move is being judged.

In the thick forest, I hear a crack of the wood, I hear the bend of the bow and just as fast as my heartbeats, I take a gasping breath; the first arrow strikes me. The arrow is embarrassment and shame for what type of fawn I have become. A young deer that is young only emotionally. A young deer that only has a perspective from a fawn’s eyes.

Just as fast as the first bow comes, I can hear the breaking of the wooden bow and the swoosh of the second arrow. It feels slow at first and it’s like I am just waiting to die and then it hits. It doesn’t hurt as bad as one would think because I am so used to these arrows all the time. This arrow is judgement. I condemn myself to death because of what type of dependent fawn I have become to those around me.

I am lifeless on the ground. And as I lay there, I can hear the swoosh of bird wings. The vultures are beginning to circle and soon I will be no more.

Those moments in the meadow are few and fleeting. They are few and fleeting right now but I am hoping over time, I will find myself in the meadow more often, prancing along in the morning dew and hearing the whistling of the wind through the trees and the birds chirping their morning song.

I need to steer clear of the hunter and I need to accept myself; flaws and goodness and all the problems that I face daily. I have to stop being who I am in this stage of my life and become an adult.

My death, my suffering is only caused by the hunter. I am the hunter.

Until next time,

It is time to put my bow and arrow in the shop and live life in the open meadow.