Yeah Executive Dysfunction Goes Hard

you think I'm special? no honey, I'm special NEEDS

I don't need therapy, I need to die

The urge to slice my fucking neck open.

top ten humbling experiences: forcing yourself to choke down food with shaky hands while trying not to faint

I don't want to get better anymore, it's pointless

I've been mentally ill for most of my life. It's the only way I know how to exist.

I've become comfortable in my own fucked up world. I feel comforted by my fucked up thoughts in my fucked up mind. It's familiar, and familiar is comfortable. I feel safe in my own lack of safety.

Healing, on the other hand, is unfamiliar. Unpredictable. Scary. I've convinced myself that I don't want to heal. That I'm better off this way.

I'm Prometheus, chained to the rock as the eagle devours my liver everyday. But he's my only friend.

I'm Sisyphus, pushing the boulder up the mountain every day only for it to roll back down. But at least I know it will always be by my side.

I'm Tantalus, tied to the riverbed below a tree bearing luscious fruit. The water and fruit dance out of my way every time I reach for them, no matter how hungry or thirsty I get. But at least I don't harbor false hope that maybe I'll someday be satisfied.

Mental illness is much the same for me. I've become comfortable in my own misery. It is cruel, yes. But at least there is kindness in the surety of its cruelty.

And I've made my peace with drowning.

Curiosity

You always greeted me with a smile

Asked me how I was, how my day was going

I smiled back and told you I was fine

But I think you knew I was lying

Because my smile never quite reached my eyes

The way yours always seemed to do

And sometimes the words came out flat

Like I never really believed them

You were always the curious cat

You poked and prodded till I gave in

I resisted a lot, putting up walls

But you broke them right down

But curiosity has a heavy price

You couldn't handle what you saw

The expanse of my damage was unfathomable

Too much for you to stomach

You quickly tried to backpedal

But the damage was done

In your hurry you stepped on my heart

Which was already broken, and now crushed

The horrors of my soul were too much for you to bear

And I can understand why it was so

Because I've lived with them this long

And you never got a chance to get used to them like I did

You abandoned the shattered pieces of my heart

I tried to pick them up and mend them

But the jagged edges just cut me deeper

And left me bleeding once again

They say curiosity killed the cat

But it wasn't you who died

It was the endless possibilities that we could have had

And I was left with the ghost of what could have been

Maybe it's better this way

You'll be safe now, away from me

But the fact that hurts the most is that

Your curiosity was what led us to our demise

relapse yayyyy

Is this all I’ll ever be?

Inconvenience

It's funny how ‘inconvenience’ starts with an ‘I’. I was born an inconvenience. Ever since I can remember, I've always been told how much I'm a bother to others. How much I cost to keep around.

I can't talk too loud, laugh too loud, talk in front of elders, or take up my own space. I’m not allowed to. Be. Human. I'm not a person, just an ornament for decoration.

You made me feel like I wasn't worth it. Wasn't enough. And like a fool, I believed it. Internalized it. Became it.

Now I'm afraid to talk to people. I'm afraid of being too loud, afraid of taking up too much space. You ask me why I'm always quiet, but you never even gave me a voice. I make myself as small as possible, but I still feel like an inconvenience.

You never allowed me to be myself. And now I don't even know who I am.

I can't laugh in front of others, so I just smile like a broken doll that's empty on the inside. People ask me why I'm always smiling. And maybe it's because I did become that showpiece on display.

I never asked for a lot, because maybe if I required less, I wouldn't be an inconvenience. Maybe if I settled for the bare minimum, people wouldn't have to go out of their way for me.

It didn't work.

You would rather I didn't exist than me become an inconvenience to you or anybody else. I was always the problem, the one to blame. The scapegoat.

And what did I ever do? I just existed. That too not of my own volition. You brought me here, but you made me pay for my existence.

But to be honest, I’m tired of this. Tired of playing your twisted game where you designed the rules to serve yourself. Tired of trying to make myself invisible. Tired of being an inconvenience to you and everyone around me.

I just hope my death isn't an inconvenience.