You know you are fucked when you listening to Sylvia Plath’s poetry on her own voice past midnight, especially lady Lazarus and its sending you in a trance.
And that late night blind stroll in dark home..
You havent even bothered to touch your hair in days… let alone comb them.
Your head to toe look says I dont give a fuck to a point where you arent looking in the mirror because you might find a tad too revolting image of yours staring back at you.
You are either numb, or having a melt down.
Self-care has taken a 180 degrees turn and its self-destruction now.
Books, movies…words fail to penetrate the glass you shelled yourself in.
You are eating ganache with spoon it’s making you sick with sweetness but u cant eat anything else.
Your water bottle hasn’t been refilled in 3 days becuase u never finished it.
You made and deleted 8 9 videos explaining you your mental state..because what if..
You are not stepping in shower as u r dizzy and u slipped last time.
Lavender oil helped..for 5 seconds.
Your friends are tired now but they refuse to give up on you. It’s like the whole world is trying to pull you togather but the damage has been done.
You are looking for therapists number and this time actually planning to go… but you highly doubt it can help.
You know you are fucked when you are trying and trying and trying but you can stop asking “why me”
You are answering that “why me” on your own but you still keep asking.
You know you are fucked when you feel you mental state is going to take you with it. You cant stop imagining your funeral.
You know you are so SO fucked when you don’t know how to unfuck yourself anymore..