plshugluna

ITS SUMMER

I walked into church today with my scars uncovered and felt like I should’ve come with a warning label. Like people should’ve been told beforehand: Careful. Don’t look too long. There’s something deeply wrong with this one. Because my arms didn’t look healed. They looked punished. Like hatred made physical. Like every night I turned against myself finally crawled out from under my sleeves for everyone to witness. And the shame of being seen. I think that’s what hell actually is. Not fire. Not demons. Just standing in front of people while they quietly realize how ruined you really are. I could feel the stares before I even saw them. Those tiny recoils people try to hide when they’re disturbed but trying to stay kind. Church people are good at kindness. That’s what makes it worse. Nobody said anything cruel. Nobody had to. Pity is sharp enough. I stood there during worship feeling sick inside my own skin thinking: You did this. Nobody forced your hands. Nobody carved those lines for you. You sat alone night after night and chose violence against your own body over and over and over again. What kind of person becomes this? What kind of person stands in God’s house with arms like open wounds and still expects love? I felt filthy. Not metaphorically. Physically filthy. Like if anyone touched me they’d feel the rot underneath my skin. And all around me people kept praying, singing, smiling, while I stood there feeling like proof that some souls do not heal correctly. I wanted to disappear so badly. Not leave. Disappear. I wanted my body erased from the room before anyone else had to see what I turned myself into. Because once people know this about you, they never unknow it. Now every handshake will hesitate. Every “how are you?” will carry pity. Every person who saw my arms today will forever remember me as the damaged one. The unstable one. The tragic one. The one who lost a war against his own mind and carried the evidence into church like some pathetic confession. And the entire time one thought kept replaying in my skull like punishment: Look at you. Look how deeply you hated yourself. Look how much pain it took to make your own body look like this. Look what you did. Look what you fucking did. #shtwt #edtwt #sad #depressed #guilt

Why do I always have to be the reliable one? Why am I the person they know will answer, even when my body is aching and my mind is begging for one quiet night to itself? Why can’t I be forgettable? Why can’t I be the one whose phone stays silent? Im the replacement. The name they throw onto the schedule to hold collapsing things together. I cant say no because I imagine the disappointment. The annoyance. The silence after. So I kept saying yes until my life stopped feeling like it belonged to me at all. I miss myself. I miss having energy to care about things after work. I miss evenings that didn’t end under parking lot lights with sore feet and an empty feeling I can’t explain. I don’t want to be remembered as dependable. I don’t want my entire existence to be built around how much exhaustion I can survive. I just want to go home while there’s still a little bit of me left. #tired #shtwt

Gonna take all these fat loss pills. Recommended is 2 a day. Imma eat 10. #fuckmychunguslife

Rip. Split. Tear. skin is just wrapping paper. what’s inside is screaming. can’t hear it? look closer. look at the red. This isn’t art. this isn’t pretty. this is panic. this is me trying to crawl out of myself with a blade. Scars? you think scars are sad? scars are leftovers. scraps. Souvenirs from the war i never won. the ones that healed were weak. the deep ones stayed quiet. obedient. I cut to feel. I cut to stop feeling. I cut because the silence in my head got too loud and the walls were closing and my ribs were cages and my thoughts bit me from the inside. I don’t want help. I want release. I want out. I want to see the white of bone. I want to peel this body off like dead skin and step out clean. but it never works. it never ends. just blood. just pressure. just me. on the bathroom floor. again. #shtwt #depressed #shedtwt

Literally starving but cant eat more than like a muffin or i start getting sick and throwing up. Nice! I think I had around 800 calories all of last week lol. I think I drank like maybe 2 cups of water a day.

Cutting ur neck is actually so uncomfortable omg. I barely went past styro and this shit stingss. #SHTWT

@s1lver_char10t blast some music!

My mind is not a place it’s a malfunction. A white screen screaming at a pitch too high for God to hear. No thoughts just the afterimage of something that never loaded. Like a film reel burned through before the first frame, projector still rattling, spitting heat into an empty name. I reach for a feeling my hands come back sterilized, like I’ve been scrubbing in for a surgery on a body that isn’t mine. There’s no blood here. No pulse to betray me. Just corridors of white stretching past intention, fluorescent infinity with no reflection. I walk but distance is a lie here. Every step folds inward, a collapsing equation, motion dividing by zero until I equal nothing. People carve their pain into language sharp, red syllables, dripping meaning. I open my mouth and static falls out. A hiss that eats sound, that chews through words before they’re born. I am a locked room with no door, no walls, no inside. Just the idea of containment. They offer pills little colored attempts to resurrect contrast. But what do you resurrect when there’s no corpse? What do you numb when numbness is the only nerve left intact? I press against my own skull like there’s a window there, like if I push hard enough I’ll crack through into something pain, rage, grief, anything with teeth. But it doesn’t break. It just absorbs. Like shouting into snow that doesn’t echo, doesn’t fall, doesn’t melt. Just endless, untouched white stacking on itself until even the idea of depth is buried. Someone who felt too much or too hard or too long until the system failed safe and erased the evidence. Now I exist as a remainder. A rounding error in a life that forgot how to calculate. #shtwt #shedtwt #Depression #poetery

You are not your parents. Not the slammed doors, not the cold that stayed, not the silence that swallowed you whole each day. Not the words that cut before you could speak, not the hollow that told you to hide, to be weak. You are not their tired anger, not the frost in your bones, not the love that left scars, carved you alone. not the weight of lives they could never explore. But you breathe. Trembling, fragile, alive. You may take space, you may matter, you may arrive. You are allowed to shiver, to falter, to break, to bleed in the quiet, to ache, to wake. Stay soft, stay fragile, stay trembling, stay true. Even when shadows curl under your skin like glue. Because you are not them, not their sorrow, not their ruin, you are heartbreakingly, painfully, entirely your own unique tune. #shedtwt #shtwt #edtwt #depression #poetery

@1xRynn @division1team THE GOATT

got called to sub v @division1team so i aced (we got 4 rounds in 2 maps)

Stay please I know it hurts. I know it hurts in that quiet way that doesn’t scream, just… leaks. Like something inside you has been crying for so long it forgot how to be loud. Stay. Even if you’re shaking. Even if your hands don’t feel like yours. Even if your chest keeps collapsing in on itself like it’s tired of holding you together. Stay. I can hear it that voice that says you’re too much or not enough or just… nothing at all. I know how convincing it sounds at 2am when the world goes still and it’s just you and everything you’re trying to survive. But please stay. Stay like someone is whispering your name from a place you can’t reach yet. Stay like your life is slipping and you’re grabbing it with bloody hands and you don’t even know why anymore just that you can’t let go. Not like this. Not tonight. Stay. Even if all you do is cry without knowing why. Even if your thoughts blur and your heart feels like it’s folding in on itself again and again and again. Stay. Because this isn’t all you are. This pain this isn’t your whole story. It’s just the part that’s loudest right now. Please. Stay like you matter even if you don’t believe it. Stay like there’s something in you still quietly begging for one more chance to breathe. because somewhere out there there are others like us, cracked in the same places, breathing through the same quiet pain, waiting without knowing what they’re waiting for. Stay... because maybe happiness isn’t gone just scattered, waiting for us to find it together. #shedtwt

@sheepyhookerx3 I need the links to those bracelets lol

#bodycheck bmi 17.5 🐾

@aveshungry Literally. When it gets stuck in the muscle, its like a whole fresh cut.

taking this shit off hurts worse than cutting myself

why did you buy it you weren’t even that hungry you just wanted something two bites then disgust throw it out money gone control gone good job stomach feels wrong skin feels thicker mirror feels closer you can feel it spreading even though it isn’t you could have just not eaten you could have just been stronger other people can why can’t you heart racing too aware of your body too aware of space too aware of taking it up tomorrow you’ll fix it tomorrow you’ll eat less tomorrow you’ll be smaller tomorrow tomorrow tomorrow but right now it’s just noise and the noise says shrink. #shtwt #edtwt

I look back at photos and reminisce fingers tracing faces that don’t exist anymore except in ink and paper. The laughter is frozen there. Mouths open mid-smile, eyes crinkled with something that felt permanent. We got older. And something invisible moved in between us. It sat at the table. It slept in the hallways. It answered for us when we didn’t know what to say. Silence got louder than screaming. Eye contact turned into accusation. Love started sounding like obligation. When did “family” turn into something I had to survive? Why did it all become a fight? Why did every word feel loaded, like one wrong breath could start a war? And somewhere in the middle of it, I started hating how I looked like maybe if I were different, quieter, prettier, easier to love we wouldn’t have fallen apart. Maybe it was me. I stare at those photos and search for the moment we broke, some crack in the background, some warning in our smiles. But all I see are people who didn’t know they were already losing each other. We ended slowly. One cold dinner at a time. One unanswered “Are you okay?” One “I’m fine.” Until the house was still standing but the family inside it was already gone.

@Sliceydiceydan stay safe <3

@cinn_er stay safe <3