Simply Genny

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2 notes

Happiness

I’m going to change tomorrow.

I won’t be able to cry for you anymore.

I won’t be able to hurt about you anymore.

I won’t be able to be miserable because of you anymore.

I’m going to be okay.

They’re going to take it away from me.

The ability to cry

To hurt

To be miserable.

I’m going to be okay.

I’m so relieved to be breaking this cycle of constant crying, constant hurting, constant misery.

I just want to be okay.

I want to smile like everyone else.

I want to laugh like everyone else.

I want to be happy like everyone else.

I want to be okay.

When I wake up tomorrow morning I’ll be like a butterfly breaking out of its cacoon.

This dark, empty, suffocating cocoon that my life has been since you hurt me, made me cry, made me wallow forever in my own misery.

There is a light at the end of the tunnel now, a hope for salvation. For freedom. For life.

I guess, for some people, happiness only comes in the form of a prescription.

But I’m going to be okay.

I just want to be okay.

Filed under anti-depressants cipralex depression happiness happily ever after hope for a better tomorrow

27 notes

I miss you

I miss you so much it causes me physical pain

And right now it feels like I’ll never love again

I miss you so much it makes me cry

Because you walked away and I don’t know why

I miss you to the point where I can’t breathe

Because you left me here and I still can’t leave

I miss you so much that I can’t sleep

Because this misery you caused me cuts so deep

I miss you so much and I can’t stop it

I hate that I always feel so shit

I miss you so much I want to die

Because there was nothing left of me after you said goodbye..

Filed under i miss him i still love him i can't make you love me I can't make you stay i wish you were here i wish you'd stay

9 notes

Borderline

Borderline personality disorder.

I seem to be collecting disorders like pokemon cards : Gotta catch ‘em all.

Somehow, it all seems to make sense.

I’ve always been teetering off the edge.

Borderline between sanity and insanity.

Borderline between happiness and sadness.

Borderline between life and death.

I am always just borderline.

I want to be happy, so desperately want to be happy. I want what everyone else seems to have without even trying so hard. I’m always trying so hard.

To be loved.

To be accepted.

To be normal.

I want to feel genuine joy. The kind of joy that makes you feel like nothing can ever go wrong. Everything always seems to be going wrong.

But I also want to be sad. Sadness is my comfort zone. Happiness is so fleeting and so easily taken away.

Nobody can make me hurt more than I hurt myself.

Nobody can make me hate more than I hate myself.

I feel like depression is home. The only home I’ve ever known. I honestly can’t remember feeling any other way.

I’m happy in my sadness.

I’m borderline.

I want to be sane, not just in the normal sense of the word. But sane in a way that my emotions all make sense. That this tangled mess of thoughts can somehow straighten out and become something meaningful. Something that matters. I just want to matter. To mean something. To not just be a tangled web.

But insanity seems like an old friend I can never shake off. An old familiar friend who seems to help me see the world in a way that nobody else seems to. People seem to see so little. I can see behind the veil. The veil that keeps everyone from seeing just how fucked up we all are. Just how fucked up I am. Just how fucked up the world has made me.

I am borderline.

Life just doesn’t have much meaning to me anymore. And yet I cling to the things I need the most. The things that can give me my own sordid version of happiness. Things that would make most people cringe. Life is experience. Experiences I treasure and some that I regret. But living is everything. Living is breathing. Living is trying to find out what your purpose is in this world. I feel like I have no purpose.

Death intrigues me. Allures me. Calls me to the deepest depths of nothingness. The finality of it makes my skin crawl, my nerves rattle. It’s something I can’t comprehend, and yet something I still crave. And end to the blackhole of pain and misery and hopelessness that has become my life.

I am borderline.

You feel sad, I feel depressed. You feel happy, I feel manic. You feel hurt I feel torn apart. There is no stability to my emotions. My emotions run on a scale that would make most people’s heads spin.

But when I love, I love completely.

When I care, I would take a bullet for you.

Whe I grieve, my entire world comes to an end.

But there is no end to the intensity of what I feel. There is no end to the constant fluctuations of my moods, my life, my everything.

But, even after all that. I’m still borderline.

I am always just borderline.

Filed under borderline personality disorder personality disorder emotionally unstable diagnoses

4 notes

Lonely tide

Footprints in the sand.

Footprints on my heart.

And not even the constant wave of tears can wash them away.

Wash away the memories.

Wash away the pain.

I want to be cleansed.

Cleansed from you.

I want a clean slate, but I know I’ll never have one. I know I’ll never be the same, my heart will never be the same.

I’ve lost my hope, my ability to love, my ability to be happy.

Everthing that was good about me has been caught up in a tide and swept away.

All that’s left of me is an empty shell.

An empty, fragile shell of a human being, lying on the side of the beach we call life.

Unnoticed, unloved.

Just empty.

Liten to my heart, can you hear the pain?

And you, the tidal wave that crashed over me and ruined my only hope of hapiness.

Ruined my happiness for the sake of your own.

I can’t explain to you, and you’ll never understand.

You’ll never care.

You’re a selfish, heartless, egotistical human being who takes whatever you want and then pretends it meant nothing.

Fuck you.

It meant EVERYTHING.

You took EVERYTHING.

So let this tide of pain pull me under.

Let me drown in my misery.

Let  me crash over myself, into myself, destoy myself.

Let me stay this way forever.

But get your fucking footprints off my sand.

You’re not welcome here anymore.

Filed under heart break heart broken heart-ache broken heart it hurts love hurts i hate you i really do fuck you you selfish prick

12 notes

Psychosis

Anti-psychotics.

The word would send a shiver down anyone’s spine. Instantly conjuring mental images of padded rooms and straight jackets.

Of heads banged against walls and fingers scratching at eyes.

Of insanity.

Anti-psychotics.

The word could light a spark of hope in the eys of those to whom it is prescribed. A sense of relief from endless torment at the hands of their own minds.

Of release from the bondage of their own thoughts.

Of sanity.

Anti-psychotics.

It scares me that I need this. Scares me that this tiny pill has become my only hope of sanity. My only spark of hope, of relief, of release.

It scares me to think that, 20 years ago, the shit that goes on in my head would have gotten me institutionalised.

Resigned to a life lived in padded cells and straight jackets. Pushed to a point where I’d be banging my head against the walls and scratching out my eyes.

Anti-psychotics

I repeat the word over and over in my head until it doesn’t frighten me anymore. It’s not meant to frighten me at all. It’s meant to help me.

To save me.

Cure me.

Anti-psychotics.

Anti- hurt

Anti-memories

Anti-insanity

Anti-hopelessness

I am sane.

Filed under medication bipolar bipolar type 2 borderline personality disorder seroquel mylan quetiapine anti-psychotics sanity insanity salvation hope for a better tomorrow

1 note

Triggers

It’s been a while since I imposed my morbid depressing solitude upon you all. So here’s a heartwarming peek into the sordid mess that is my mind.


This place is full of memories. Memories that haunt me. Hurt me. Constantly.

This place is full of misery. Misery that consumes me. Corrupts me. Destroys me. Endlessly.

This place is full of matter. Matter consisting of hopeless dreams and wishful thinking. Things that shouldn’t matter but do. Things that make me scream and scream and scream. Relentlessly.

This place is full of you. Full of me. Full of all the things that break me down. Constantly. Endlessly. Relentlessly.

This place is my mind and I can’t escape it.

My mind so full of triggers that are constantly pulled to unleash the agony of things I try so hard to forget.

Try so hard, but never will.

They haunt me, consume me, make me want to scream.

Scream loud enough that they take notice and leave me be.

Leave me alone to drown in my melancholy, sink into my misery, disappear into my monotony.

These triggers that dare me to push a little harder, dig a little deeper. Find the strength within myself to pull the final trigger that will deliver me from this life. This meaningless existence.

This painful, heartwrenching sorrow that has no beginning and no end. Just and endless matter, a black hole filled with all the things that work to keep me down.

No light at the end of the tunnel.

No hope in sight.

This place is full of triggers.

And you, my love, are the gun.

Filed under bipolar type 2 bipolar 2 depressing tumblr depression melancholy misery regret heart break heart broken heart-ache hopeless empty broken so broken sadness endless pain i give up

21 notes


This is one of my favorite tattoos inspired by one of my favorite books.


“…There is only one, only one skill a woman like you and me needs in life, and they don’t teach it in school. Look at me.”“You should not speak like this to her, my child,” Mullah Faizullah said.“Look at me.”Mariam did.“Only one skill. And it’s this: tahamul. Endure.”
-From A Thousand Splendid Suns, page 17-

This is one of my favorite tattoos inspired by one of my favorite books.



“…There is only one, only one skill a woman like you and me needs in life, and they don’t teach it in school. Look at me.”
“You should not speak like this to her, my child,” Mullah Faizullah said.
“Look at me.”
Mariam did.
“Only one skill. And it’s this: tahamul. Endure.”


-From A Thousand Splendid Suns, page 17-

Filed under book quotes a thousand splendid suns khaled hosseini tattoos inspirational tattoos