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The Infamous Middle Finger
Some posts may be triggering!!!
This is my Depression/Self Harm/ED blog. My funny/fandom blog is withthethingy.tumblr.com I also have a bands/personal and a pastel blog so ask me for those URLs if you would like them.
Days without cutting: 760 (or 2 years and one month) [Last updated 4/21/14]
I spent hours listening to music from before
everything happened and when I opened my
eyes I was still in my living room and it was still
snowing and although I prayed for summer
maybe it is better this way because all I know
is spending too much time standing on the
roof daring you to say the word “jump” as
if I needed your permission

I do not miss you // 4.17.14 (via babushka-)

hvngers:

I’m addicted to sleep and not sleeping
do you see my dilemma


labyrhinthique:

unlively:

it didn’t hurt

this is so beautiful.

labyrhinthique:

unlively:

it didn’t hurt

this is so beautiful.


digbicks:

Romanticisation of Mental Illness, Kelsey Weaver


The biggest lesson I’ve learned is, ‘It’s okay.’ It’s okay for me to be kind to myself. It’s okay to be wrong. It’s okay to get mad. It’s okay to be flawed. It’s okay to be happy. It’s okay to move on.

Hayley Williams (via travelhikepsych)

I find my self never wanting anyone to know how I am feeling, but at the exact same time its all I want them to know. To know I feel like dying half the time or I feel like i’m so hollow inside I could break.


If I give this feeling a name, will it be harder to let go of or easier to hate? I think I learned how to fly once, but I woke up with a broken leg. There was an entire summer when I searched for poisoned berries and convinced myself I was just keeping everyone else safe. The days only seem long when you are paying attention to where the sun is instead of what she is saying. Don’t you dare talk about this like you know anything about forgiveness. I saw the black drip from your mouth, and there were no galaxies this time. Every day, I wrap tape around these broken pencils and punch poems into paper that doesn’t belong to me. This is all I know about fighting. It is never about who hits the hardest, but whose blood stains the longest. Mine washed off months ago, and I can still see yours from here.

Y.Z, a letter to the monsters (via rustyvoices)

comeb4ckid:

You don’t understand how many times I’ve actually done this

comeb4ckid:

You don’t understand how many times I’ve actually done this


You think ‘Okay, I get it, I’m prepared for the worst’, but you hold out that small hope, see, and that’s what fucks you up. That’s what kills you.

Stephen King - Joyland

(via astrolocherry)


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