all in all is all we are

You let me into your bed, and I let you into my heart. If I close my eyes for long enough I can feel your wet hair on my neck again. Again. But thinking of you feels foreign. There once was a time when I categorised and mapped-out your every feature, and now my mind battles to compile images of you. “Close your eyes for a bit longer. Wish a bit harder.” I don’t know what’s more difficult- getting to sleep or waking up. Both would be easier with you by my side. I forgot what your warm body feels like against mine; faintly radiating heat. Waking up to dark circles and smudged black lines of make-up dancing around my eyelids. Sleep deprived. Deprived. No amount of 11:11 wishes are going to rescue you, kid. Downing a shot too many of strong alcohol your stomach can’t stand leaves your throat feeling the same way extensive amounts of muffled screaming does. Wrung-out, dry, missing. I remember the night I cried for six hours straight, and somehow still managed to find more tears available for use when I woke up. I’m startled so easily. I wince at the sound of a closing fridge door. I need to go sleep. “Close your eyes for a bit longer. Wish a bit harder.”

I miss you.

People say that change is the only thing that is constant. I’m not so sure. Several things do change- true. But then there are those things, those feelings that don’t seem to change. Ignorant people will tend to remain trapped in their bubbles, and old habits die hard. It’s  difficult to change somebody stuck in their old ways, and it’s difficult to stop loving certain people. The ironic thing about us is how often we find ourselves feeling like shit. And we say, “I’ve never felt this bad before” or, “I can’t do this anymore.” Hey, don’t be surprised if you find yourself saying the same thing a week or two later. Situations can be so different, yet so similar. You can find yourself facing new people and new challenges in new surroundings, yet having those same feelings creep back into the depths of your skull. I think we battle to be “okay” because we have all suffered deterioration to a certain extent. A problem doesn’t have to be specifically bad to set us off… It just has to trigger something. It has to remind you of a bad past-time, and shortly after infest your thoughts. The reason we’re not “okay” is because we don’t allow ourselves to be. We spend a great amount of time thinking, “I’m here again” and “I can’t have this again”. I wish I could convey in words how much I really do want to be okay. How much I want to take each new experience and challenge as it is and as it comes. Everyday new. I want to be okay, and I want to truly change those difficult things. Those things that are almost set-in-stone Like my mindset, or how I feel about myself. I’m trying to kill the old habits, and stop loving certain people.  I’m really  trying. I’m reallyy going to try. I want to be okay.

There is no fucking point in making long posts whining.

I swallowed twenty odd pills last night and my mom thinks I don’t have the right to be sad and no-one suggested sending me for help and my dad wants to come fetch me to live with him.

And I don’t know. I don’t have the right to be sad. That’s all I’ve heard. “grow balls, Ellie.” My mom thinks I need a story like I’ve been sexually abused or raped or something. Hahaha I’m just SICK. And everyone is blaming me.

I didn’t go to school today.

I probably won’t for a few days. Sometimes I need to withdraw and think and become okay again. It’s how I work. I think my mom gets that.

i’m not going to reply to all the anon messages, because i don’t want to flood my dash/blog with them. but thank you to every nice message. it was quite appreciated .thank you. and to anyone who sincerely cared.