And i wish I could say something other than “i want to die,” something else that holds the weight of those words with less of the risk. But the one thing that heals me has shamed me, hung me, drowned me, tore me to bits and hot-glued me back together, humiliated me, made me look the stupid, weak fool. Made me look ignorant. Made me look childish. Made me something I’m not. What do you do, then? What do you do when your medicine is meant to degrade you? What do you do when happiness is held up on a string that the world wants to cut away?
You do what you always have you don’t live you fight the silent struggle that is life because to live is the hard part sometimes no one can hear you so you scream silence to be heard across the pain push away to pull towards the hope of anyone loving you
First. My health teacher once told us that every medicines is a drug but not every drug is a medicine. We know better not to take any drug that will kill us, however, it’s just happen to be so tempting that we take that drug anyway. The choice is yours to make.
Next. Why held happiness up on a string that can easily be cut by something? Why not hold happiness in our hands and nurture it to be a part of our life? Right. Easy said than done. The choice is yours to make. Again.
First I find that oddly intricitly beautiful but sometimes you can’t control life it’s a powerful something you can’t hold or control so sometimes we get swept under while some never resurface