I don't know what I'm doing, but I do know a lot about myself. I'm mentally troubled. I have a deep range of dark emotion. I am trying to deal with it better. I'm brain damaged & this is me, doing my best. Cats and all animals are my anti depressants. But so is alcohol, and drugs. Oh, and The Simpsons. I wish I was having sex more, but hey, whatcha g'on do. I am a Goth Girl, Metal /Rock Chick. I'm a complete SPOOKY GIRL. LOVE HORROR AND ANYTHING DARK AND SCARY. And as almost 99.9% of Goths, BLACK is my favourite colour. BLACK 🖤 IS BEAUTIFUL.
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This Is So Cool And Truly Beautiful.
This is so cool and truly beautiful.
M100 // Vincent Bioret
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More Posts from Phsycotik-fox3
Photography by Natalia Drepina
There's a special quality to the loneliness of dusk, a melancholy more brooding even than the night's.
~Ed Gorman
I just wanna fucking scream! I'm doing my fucking best right now, doing everything I can to smile and be strong for my tiny family. But I just want to get wasted and slash or slice my arms,and fuck someone who is probably the worst kinda man for me, also probably a really great shag. Jesus fucking Christ! Aaaaaagghhhhh!!
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Smiles and love.
Will things ever get better again? Idk,but I wish I had a friend to do things with. My anxiety halts my excitement for all the things I want to do. Even just going for a long walk. *Sigh. I guess if I'm honest with myself,I am lonely. I have my Son, but he's 18. He's creating his own life. I can't put my wants on to him. And my mum , she's 67 and housebound. She's a riot, and I love chilling with her,but she's not going to be going for a hike any time soon. I just don't meet people doing the stuff that I do. And because of the anxiety/paranoia I always have my earphones in with my music up loud, or my head in my phone looking through Reddit, Imgur,or here. I really hope things change soon for the better. And I have to get a cat to make my new flat a home. Now breath. 🖤🤍🐈⬛🐈
I hear your voice and it's loud in my head. I feel for you.
It baffles me how different everyone’s lives are but damn imagine not knowing the small parts of self harm. It’s not just blood and crying and feeling alone it’s also realizing you’ve run out of the good bandaids and now you have to use the shit ones
It’s not having enough money to buy bandaids and pencil sharpeners so you have to choose
It’s feeling a scab start to come off in the middle of a conversation and hoping that your sleeve doesn’t get soaked in blood
It’s trying to convince yourself to fall asleep before you give in
It’s trying to decide between cutting and burning and bruising because you can’t decide which one you deserve
It’s choosing which blade you think is the sharpest
It’s finding bandaid wrappers and bloody tissues literally everywhere
It’s both never wanting anyone to find out and desperately wanting someone to notice