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Content Warning: suicide. Please don’t hesitate to reach out to me or 988 if you are struggling. I would rather listen to you than sit at your funeral. As a forward, I have spent the past several months fighting against my own brain. My only reason for not ending my own life was my cat. I am so grateful to her because she kept me alive long enough to find a reason again. This is what I wrote while I was actively battling suicidal thoughts: My body retaliates against change. J

Hi I'm Kim, I'm an alcoholic and I never thought I would get sober again. I thought my entire life I would be cursed with the raging thoughts of needing a drink, needing drinks plural. I didn't think I would be alive this long. Getting sober saved my life. The first time I got sober I couldn't even legally drink. I was twenty years old and desperate to end my life. I went on a binge drinking spree which ended up in a night I can't even fathom to think about let alone speak ab

CW: discussion of suicide, self harm, and eating disorders Relapse thoughts. (11-26-17) At 2:00am, the voice came back, it told me I needed to die. The voice is telling me not to tell anyone so I tell my friend I am fine. I do not miss this feeling, having my life in my hands and metal between my fingertips. You don’t understand the feeling of quiet until you stop talking and bask in loneliness. When everyone who tries to help ends up hurting you. Where the hell did my happin

This is the first collection of Teenager Years, writings transcribed from journals I kept in high school. Content Warnings include: talk of suicide, talk of self harm, and talk of eating disorders. If you or someone you know is struggling with suicidal thoughts or feelings, please refer to my references page, call 988, or call 911. There is a reason you are here. My mind wanders to perfection at night but all I see is death. You burned me so I set myself on fire. You shook me

CW: discussion of suicide, self harm, and eating disorders 09-05-2017 You are not a bad person even if I wrote you as the villain in all of my stories. You broke me but I was always cracked. A glass about to overflow and you tipped me over. I never blame any of this on you. I was already broken. I went back and told you I wanted to die, I made it real for me. I never meant to make it real. You hurt me more than ever and I may never be able to be fixed because you tried to cle

The day your dad dies you will be seventeen years old. You will be in the middle of creating a bullet journal page for the upcoming year. You will be sitting in front of your couch and making a habit tracker page. You will use hearts as the markers for February. You will forget to fill it in as the time passes. You will be on day 13, you’ll draw a heart with a red marker and write a small number 13 in the middle of the heart. Your house will have a long hallway that connects

My father has been dead for over 4 years, 1,721 days to be exact. You would think that by now I would be better or “fixed” but in reality: the culture surrounding grief is fucked. Nobody really knows how to handle it and many people chalk it up to “I’m sorry”. Megan Devine, author of It’s OK That You’re Not OK does an amazing job of dissecting grief and showing how skewed this culture has made it. Grief is looked at as a gross tumor implanted in peoples lives when they lose s

Grief is not love in a heavy coat. The quote got it wrong. Grief is bitter and sharp. When I stand and face god I will ask him why he took you away and walk before I hear the answer. I am not better because of this, I have fought wars with anger to be this kind. I am so tired of being brave. I am not brave, I am scared. I am so scared to keep going without you. I am so scared how much this hurts, how sad I am. I want to feel better but I don’t know when I will. They all said

May 21st, 2023: 8:24pm And what will you do when I leave? Will you writhe, and scream, and wither away? Or will you grow, and plant a seed that will cause you to change? Maybe you not changing was the first step of my acceptance of the toxicity that rots in your bones. It rots and it festers and it bubbles up to the surface, spilling over like the wine that stained my carpet last weekend. The love is lost, long gone when it got caught up in the wind and carried off to a far a

Driving with no airbags, ice skating, hugging my mother, pouring out bottles of wine, romanticizing my life in a weird depressive way, holding back tears, listening to Maria Mena, talking to 3 people, reciting lines, losing the love I have, being sober, visiting his grave, blacking out in my childhood bedroom, wrapping gifts, painting cherries, loving with no intentions of continuing, taking the pills, hoping to disappear, having a first last kiss, straight A’s, learning to t