Ptsd Quotes

i hate that my brother is a trigger.
i still dont want to be here. even after all that treatment. why am i like this?
i feel like im floating...im spacey and not even high. wtf is happening to me?
She's dying inside though she says she's fine but can't you tell it's a lie,
don't you see it in her dull eyes?
She told you she was down
yet you let it slip by so from then on she kept it all inside,
She told herself she was alright

But she was telling white lies
Can't you tell,
look at her dull eyes.
Confession 34
I posted a letter about how I felt about my mental illness on tumblr,
It got over 300 notes and I started crying.
But I don't feel beautiful..



My day in a bottle:
When I wake, my eyes are sleepy just like every other millionth person waking up in the morning. But as if it is as painful to get dressed in the moring as it was to fall asleep the night before. I'm tired. As I walk to take a shower I look in the mirror. Worthless it screams. Maybe everyone around says I'm beautiful, my heart tells me different. The shower is where I think. The if's and why's of life. What did I ever do to deserve this? My day drags on with the soles of my shoes slowly sliding across the ground. Lifeless inside, bubbly and outgoing on the outside. Maybe I smile, but if you looked in my pale blue eyes you'd see the pain. The pain of a thousand heartbreaks. The pain of ever loving someone and never learning to let them go. If only the pain could go away, and if I could rip my heart out maybe it would just stop. Sometime I just stop and think, and stare in space for awhile. Others go in "la-la land", meanwhile I'm in hell. My mind is slowly ripping me piece by piece. As it tears open my wounded body internaly and I start to break down and cry. Why, why, why. Why me? Maybe if I sleep it will just go away. But what does it matter, it will just be there when I wake up. Haunting me, sitting in the corner. Or that spot on the wall. Taunting me. Mocking me. Telling me things I don't want to hear. The faint cries for help that know one seems to notice. The messed up mind from a once little girl who was known to make funny noices with her voice. The girl that can make others laugh but seems to make herself go crazy. But when I go to sleep at night. My reality turns into my night terrors. Waking up crying, as if the pain never ends. I soon fall back asleep, clinging to a blanket only wishing it was someone to tell me I'm okay. I'll be okay. But instead, I just wake, and my eyes are just sleepy like every other millionth person waking up in the morning.- k.d
I told my best friend
what wrong
why im in crisis

she said theres nothing i can do
thats not the answer I wanted



 



"Keep you face always towrds the sunshine -
and the shadows will fall behind you"


-Walt Whitman


 

My Mind In A Bottle. 
About a year or two ago I was told I had PTSD
(Post Traumatic Stress Disorder). It is a mental disorder that can cause high levels of anxiety or depression. No, I am not insane, and I am no different from any other human being. Just like others, I worry about common things, but when I worry its on a higher extreme. A person like me, can never stop over thinking. It is a constant struggle of "ifs". I do not take medicine for this. I feel as if I should be happy on my own without the symptoms of depressents. A person like me with relive the past they had over and over. I upset myself and cry until I cannot breathe and passout. Why not go to a doctor for this?.. Because I don't need society labeling me as an Insane minor with a mental illness. The worries are not simple worries about waking up late for school, or if that crush I like, likes me back. The worries are the ones that are pinned to the back of the darkest part of your brain. The ones that people would rather ignore then to deal with. Where you whole body trembles and shakes, as if goosebumps where only the smallest sight. The pain in your chest isnt your heart racing, but rather breaking. You look in the mirror but only to say "I hate myself". The simplest of cries turn into a never ending sea that just doesnt seem to stop even for the longest hour. And when you're in you room at night with your knees to your chest, you're phone goes off to a person that says "Stay strong, you'll make it". As if you think that you'd make it when your mind is telling you that your worthless. To the only person that will make you ever feel happy feels the same way you do right now. That you wake up everyday terrified they leave due to suicide. But when you're with friends you laugh and smile, you are yourself. But when 1am creeps around the dusk wraps around your throat causing you to suffer. Is this a mental illness, or just simple caution? To the people that grew up everyday when their dad got home from work just to beat of his children. To the people that saw their best friend's life past right before their eyes. To the people that just wanted to get on a stroll to get something off their mind, but got caught by a person that told them to take their clothes off.
This isn't a mental illness, its fear of life repeating itself.
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