Sometimes It Is Not A Joke

My life is a joke, there is no use being alive, why should I, just give me one good reason. But How would I do it, the easiest way out is the pills. A death that’s not painful, but just falling asleep like any other night.My life is divided into two parts, the one where I am happy and the other one where I fuck everything up. It is always me, and I do everything wrong, so I do not know how to be anymore. I need help, self-harming is not enough for me anymore. I need something stronger, real, more frightening. Something that scares the shit out of me. Am I really worthy this life, am I worthy alive or is it better for me to be dead. My darkness is more and heavier this time. I try to turn it around to a more positive, but it is hard.


But on the other hand, the light that keeps me alive, is everything and more powerful than me. But do he really understands how strong my love is for him. I do not know what to do anymore. Why am I not enough? Why is my life worth so little in comparison to other people. My life feels like a joke and I am the joker, so life is all a joke. But I try harder, work at it harder than ever before, just that I end up self-harmimg myself every time. But still it want get better so what is the use of being alive, when there is nothing to live for anymore. Why keep breathing, with a voice that is not heard. All the wrongs I do and everything I get blamed for. Is it all a joke, or is it really me? Every time I am sitting with the question; Is it fair?


So I am cutting myself, I know is it stupid, that I am an idiot. I do not relly think that I should be here anymore. The more I think about it, the more sure I get: I am sick, tired and exhausted, how can I bare this burden? My life is just a joke, I am a burden to those whom I love and I do them wrong all the time. So it is true, I do not deserve to be happy, because every time I fuck it up. ending with hating myself even more than I already do. And this is not to get empathy or you to feel sorry for me. I am over that, I see blood and that is my satisfaction, the one thing that calms my nerves. But I still think, maybe it is some kind of a twisted joke, where I am the joker and really are not alive. I wish for the darkness, it is scaring me. How much I long for not being here in this world, where all I do is wrong no matter what or how hard I try.I keep distance, I leave you, I am going against my own beliefs. How is it that I am the only one that has to compromize? Am I really that bad, am I so much of a burden to handle? Or is it really anyone who can handle me?


I feel so lonely it aches all over, I just want to keep on cutting and bleed to death! The ultimate peace and relief from my mind and myself. It is unbearable being me sometimes, and I do so many wrong things. even tho I try to correct all the errors, it is ending up with bigger black holes. The truth be told, is not a good idea to be honest. It is better to shut the hell up and do not fall in that gap. I wish I died instead of lived! How can someone love me, I feel that everything I do I  FUCK UP?



Any Bryde

A Few Secrets

I sat alone by myself and looked in the mirror. The face that looked back at me was not me. I have changed, do not know when this really happened. But I remember that all I saw was a girl with scars and blood in her face. I looked at my hands and I had my tweezer in one of them. It was also bloody, the paper in the other hand were also bloody. Nothing looked real, it was like a dream. This was not my first time in the rodeo. I have been plucking for years. Tearing out toe nails and skin where I could. But the scary part was when I looked at the clock, and it has been like 3-4 hours! I could not believe this. Where had I been all this time? I was in another state, there was like this other person that took control over my body and hurt me. But this did not hurt, it was satisfying and that was even scarier.

All you need

My inside was broken, I think I have hidden this for so long that my self harming has evolved to tattooing. There are no scars, my canvas is filled with ink, colours all over. I have also found places on my body that you cannot see my scars. But it makes me feel so bad about myself. But I want the world to “see” that I struggle, because on the outside you cannot see the mental illness. So all the judgmental people makes it even harder for us. And I have my eating disorder that I take comfort in when I cannot do my self harming. In High School I started to binge and party. My life turned into a long party that lasted for years. Running around with the wrong crowd and doing drugs. But I had “the time of my life”. As I look back I am so happy that none of this has destroyed my body, but i’m still afraid that it will. I need comfort, and I do have that. But at the moment, my love is on the other side of the world and I am really scared to let people close or under my skin. 

Fixing myself

As the years pass by now my family sees this, it is probably so much more harder to see this that it is for me. Because my image and how I look at myself are so different from what you all see when you meet me. I struggle, sometimes I just sit here and cry for hours without knowing. Screaming inside my brain and speaking to my grandma in my head (she passed away 7 years ago). I feel that she always got my back and try to get me back on the right track. But I know that I need to take control over this and my life. Because it is not only me, I have several identities inside my head. Time flashes by, I do not know exactly what I have been doing and suddenly it has gone a week. The days are blurry and I do not know what day it is, honestly. I have try to open up so many times, but one of my personalities denies me to do this. So it talks me into not doing it and getting me to believe I can do it by myself like I have always done. But this does not work, and I know this! So am I then kidding myself into believing that I can do this by myself? And the last year has not make me better, except for meeting my love! But when one thing goes up there comes so many obstacles. 

I am strong

I hate the abuser who has fucked up my brain and gotten me to believe that I am unworthy, ugly, fat, should not be alive and are only trash… These words, and the physical abuse runs on repeat in my brain and behind my eyelids… But I am getting rid of this idiot and abusive things for good. This time I will open up and not give in, I am not letting anyone stop me this time!


Any Bryde