“I want to breathe; I just need to breathe.” —in my head, over and over and over and over.

I would always tell myself that brushing off things that are bothering me is easy. I would always tell myself that I can get through it and all I need to do is just breathe.

But it’s easier said than done—a lot of things are easier said than done.

It’s not easy having and needing to constantly fight with one’s self. It’s like you’re living in somebody else’s head; somebody else’s world and all you want to do is escape. You keep screaming, but nobody hears you, nobody sees you.

It’s a trap and all you want to do is get the fuck out, move on, and never look back; never come back.

You badly wish that you have someone you can lean on. You badly wish for that support system, that one person you can talk to and rely on when the going gets tough and your senses are eating you alive.

But the grip that you have is slowly slipping, and there’s nothing else to hold on to. And you just want to jump, completely let go, and just forget about it. You’ve been fighting your whole life, there’s no sense in continuing when the tunnel is too long and the light at the end is nothing but a speck of dust, maybe even smaller.

You try to speak up and you try to talk to someone, but no words would come out. You don’t even know where to begin because that fear of judgement and abandonment is looming its nasty head on the surface.

What do you do? What the hell do you fucking do?

I want to breathe. I just need to breathe.



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