โthere was nothing poetic about the pain i felt.
it was crying my eyes out at two in the morning and clutching at my chest as i tried to regain my breath because if i let go,
i was scared iโd fall apart.โ
โข @regretletters โข ๐ฅ
it was crying my eyes out at two in the morning and clutching at my chest as i tried to regain my breath because if i let go,
i was scared iโd fall apart.โ
โข @regretletters โข ๐ฅ
Forwarded from Fikat Counseling Service (precious)
โขHave you heard of Ay-Mind?
It is a digital mental health magazine that started out 4 months ago with the goal of raising awareness and uplifting the stigma surrounding mental health. AY - MIND is a combination of two words; AY standing for แ แฅแแฎ (AYMERO)and mind is for the mind. Read together, they sound out 'I MIND' which gives the magazines true identity of dedication to mental health. Join the family if you haven't yet, help us be a voice for the shunned and unheard.
Telegram- @AYMIND
Instagram- @aymind_mag
Twitter- @aymind_mag
It is a digital mental health magazine that started out 4 months ago with the goal of raising awareness and uplifting the stigma surrounding mental health. AY - MIND is a combination of two words; AY standing for แ แฅแแฎ (AYMERO)and mind is for the mind. Read together, they sound out 'I MIND' which gives the magazines true identity of dedication to mental health. Join the family if you haven't yet, help us be a voice for the shunned and unheard.
Telegram- @AYMIND
Instagram- @aymind_mag
Twitter- @aymind_mag
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It's the fear of being broken. It's the fear of giving people the power to break you.
Do you feel this huge pain on your chest when you try not to make a sound when you cry?
Forwarded from A depressed wimpy kid's note (Deleted Account)
That very deadened feeling, which is so very different from feeling sad. Sad hurts but itโs a healthy feeling. It is a necessary thing to feel.
Depression is very different.
Depression is very different.
Forwarded from A depressed wimpy kid's note (Deleted Account)
And I felt like my heart had been so thoroughly and irreparably broken that there could be no real joy again, that at best there might eventually be a little contentment. Everyone wanted me to get help and rejoin life, pick up the pieces and move on, and I tried to, I wanted to, but I just had to lie in the mud with my arms wrapped around myself, eyes closed, grieving, until I didnโt have to anymore.