There is a kind of crying I hope you have not experienced, and it is not just crying about something terrible that has happened, but a crying for all of the terrible things that have happened, not just to you but to everyone you know and to everyone you don’t know and even the people you don’t want to know, a crying that cannot be diluted by a brave deed or a kind word, but only by someone holding you as your shoulders shake and your tears run down your face.

scntrx:

No one is too busy, it’s only a matter of priorities.

scntrx:

         

scntrx:

         

(Source: madness-of-depression)

I stay up just late enough until I am just exhausted enough that I can fall into my bed and sink into immediate slumber. Because I can’t stand lying in a bed in a dark room alone with just my thoughts for so many hours and hours.
I need a life that isn’t just about needing to escape my life.
scntrx:

         

scntrx:

         

(Source: smiertelnepiosenki)

There are far too many silent sufferers. Not because they don’t yearn to reach out, but because they’ve tried and found no one who cares.
I’m not surprised you don’t want me. I don’t want myself too.