For any lost souls finding their way back here: this blog is currently being archived. 

Obviously, I have not been active on here in a while and probably won't be in the future. 

I'm still deciding on whether or not I'm going to take down every single post or leave some of them up. Regardless, the chances of any future posts are slim.

It's been quite the ride.

Stay safe.

16.02.2023

forever and longer

I guess it's ironic, a tad funny even, quite hilarious actually if you have the right sense of humour. One can certainly appreciate the senselessness in the Universe's cruelty. The paradox of meaning, where we all matter and yet none of us ever did. We like to adorn ourselves with knowledge and wisdom while somewhere out there someone is laughing, because our knowledge means nothing in the vastness of space and time. Sometimes I wish I believed in some form of God, so that I could blame them, but I can't and I won't and so I will continue to grow the guilt within myself until my body rots away. I envision blood dripping down my skin before it all falls apart, leaving nothing but bones behind. I envision your body, contemplating how much of it may be left now, years later. Has your skin fallen off yet? Has the Earth claimed you already? My brain supplies me with images of you, of us and I hope they lay my remains to rest next to you so we can spend eternity together, rotting.

melancholia

will you love me

or leave me forever?

Posting this text is the equivalent of screaming into a void as there is no one out there who is aware of this blog and my existence, it has been years and when I look back, I wish I had been right. I wish I could give you a happy end, show you strength and hope, but I am not okay, I did not recover and there is no happy end. 

My head is swarming with thoughts that aren't mine and those that are, and it's getting harder every day to see the difference. I am balancing between life and death and have been arrogant enough to think I would get away with it, but you cannot trick Death and so I lost my footing, again, and again. I don't want to be alive and I don't want to die either. I want to live, but I would rather be dead. I want to rip my skin to shreds, break all my bones and tear my heart to pieces. I want to physically destruct my body, but they cannot see. They think I am standing tall and strong, they think I am moving on, but I just got better at hiding. Switched the razor for pills, blame the starving on money and hide it all under a smile. I am drowning in grief and suffocating from the longing for you, so I flee inside my head, the scariest place I know and yet it is the only place on Earth where you are still there. I would do anything to be with you and I wish I had killed myself when I had the chance to.

thank you very much for listening

I know there's barely any use in posting on this blog for it will only fall on deaf ears, if at all. But it's been nearly exactly five years since I created this blog; I was fifteen and in a rather perculiar place in life and while a lot more happened during these five years than depicted here, I still feel bad for leaving this blog hanging here without an actual end.

I am twenty years old now, in my second year of college and I'm doing fine. I cut ties with those that I recognized to be toxic for me, but I found a bunch of new friends and my relationship to everyone in my family has gotten so much better and while I still have bad days, I'm glad to say that most of the time I'm happy. 

Writing this feels like quite the end, but I guess it is supposed to be one, because this chapter ends here, probably ended a few months ago really, but this is it. I grew up and I will continue growing and if someone will ever read this, please know that there's a way out, one that does not require killing yourself, there is always the choice to live. I made that choice a while ago and I went from there and I made it, let's hope you do to. With all my love: goodbye. 

EDIT: As the latest post on here states, I chose to archive this blog. While going through all my posts (quite the journey really) I decided to leave this one up. I went through some hard times again after posting this and it's been a good reminder that I've always come up on the other side somehow. Melancholia, the post after this one, is also a reminder that relapse happens. 

For those whom it may concern, I've finished college, got a couple degrees and never used them for anything. No regrets. I've got the chance to build a safespace for myself. I'm not happy most of the time, but things have gotten more peaceful. 16.02.2023

we hide,

and we run

Lately I've began to realize how much I changed and how much I'm still changing right now. And I'm honestly not complaining. I catch myself caring less about others and their opinion more and more often as well as starting to finally let go of the poisonous people that stuck to me for so long. A few month ago I moved to another country with the hope of recovery and a new beginning and while it didn't start out that promising, I'll have to admit that I'm finally getting there. There's about a handful of people from my past that I still text frequently and one third of them is my family, but even my parents don't hear from me that often anymore and that's okay, at least for me. I don't miss my 'old life' anymore, at least not as terribly as I did in the first weeks, because I reached a place inside, a kind of balance, that makes me feel happy with where I am right now. 

I love my family, but I'm starting to stop caring whether my dad thinks I'm good enough or my mum approves of my actions or whether my brother misses me as much as I miss him. I'm my own person and questioning myself from the perspective of others won't get me anywhere, I sure am happier caring less. Of course I still worry about these things, about their opinions, but they don't plague me, they can easily be ignored if they have to and that feels good. 

I love my friends, even those that I kicked out of my life, but what a fool would I be to surround myself with people who's words are poison, that make me feel sick nearly every minute I spend with them. In school I used to hang out with nearly everyone, having something in common with most people helps with that and it was nice, but I realize that it's not what I necessarily need. Sure, at college it is still sort of the same, but also different, because people here are generally more grown and respectful and just accept each other. It's nice to have people like me who got to know who I really am and not what my illness had me be for a while. And it's nice to have my handful of friends over in Germany who I still text daily and meet up with if college allows it, but who won't turn their back on me the moment I do something reckless.

I'm not saying I'm cured or on top of the world, but I'm good. Not only okay, but good. I miss the people I outlived and some times I still wish I had my dogs and my family close and some times things become too much and too heavy of a burden, but then I know where to go, because I'm always welcome at my home and always welcome at so many of my friend's places. Just knowing that no matter what happens I'll always have a place to go to is reassuring and makes living easier.

I'm honestly proud to say that I made it and that I can look into the mirror most of the days and see the person I used to be before my mental illness took away everything. And I'm even prouder to say that I like that person.

we get up,

and we fight,

and we live.