"One's dignity may be assaulted, vandalized and cruelly mocked, but it can never be taken away unless it is surrendered." -Michael J. Fox
"whatever."
"suit yourself."
"what the heck are you tryna do?"
"grow up." "get a life."
"you're such a cry baby. man up"
"can you even fit in your trousers?"
"no offence but you'd look prettier if you're skinnier"
"why are you so slow? god."
"you're a gorilla"
"you're too emotional"
"help yourself."
"you should be more like your sister"
"shut up"
And the list goes on.. and on..
and on and..
It's as if-
The sharp blades gliding through my skin, slow and cold.
Sending shivers down my spine, trying to bear the pain as the opening gets wider.
It hurts. Blood dripping on my floral bed sheet, leaving trails as I walk to the bathroom.
Oh. My. God.
Staring into the mirror, not recognizing my own reflection. Ew.
Dark under eyes, chapped lips, puffy eyes. Lost in a haze of confusion, is this really me?
Swallowing all the critiques and slanders that were thrown at me over the past decade has drained my mental and physical energy.
Making my adrenaline tingle every time I step out of the house, rushing as a pair of eyes meet mine- trying to avoid the sensation I feel when people look at me.
God, I hate this.
Instantaneously searching for the glass bottle in my sling bag, thinking I'm going to cause drama in public.
Spritz
Spritz
Spraying floral scents on the wrist, sniffing it to reduce my heart rate. This is horrible.
"Who even smells their own perfume? Man you're peculiar."
Already so easily dented, not being able to refrain the tears, my eyes cried the agony that has been bottled up for god knows how long.
I'm done.