Chemi
*.✧ Que Sera, Sera ✧.* | 25y/o fem
- Nov 25, 2025
- 35
Here I am, sprawled across the bed like a forgotten shadow, the hours slipping through my fingers as I drift into my beloved dreams of vanishing. Hoping to escape from the weight that presses me down into submission. Everything is prepared for my escape. Messages to friends and loved ones written, SN Meds and Drugs ready and in arm's reach, belongings organized in case someone finds them later, and stuff thrown away that I don't want people to see.
But I still can't motivate myself to go through with it. I dream about it constantly, but I'm just too lazy and too depressed to act. Ctb seems so stressful and exhausting, I can't even get out of bed to get it over with. I lie here, suspended, while the world spins on without me.
I feel like I have nothing left and I've made peace with hurting my friends and family. They know about my mental health issues, so it wouldn't be a huge surprise if I passed. They know the storms raging in my mind. The constant battle with myself. My passing wouldn't shatter the sky, just ripple through the familiar gray.
Yet I am wrapped in my dissociation, locked in this invisible cage that stops me from following my dreams.
I'm just hoping for a manic episode, like a spark, giving me energy and carrying me over the brink so I can finally leave this place.
I feel so useless, like a piece of furniture sitting in the corner, slowly rotting away. I can't change my fate. If only my body could move, find some energy and mix up that drink.
Maybe then, I would finally find my tranquility.
But I still can't motivate myself to go through with it. I dream about it constantly, but I'm just too lazy and too depressed to act. Ctb seems so stressful and exhausting, I can't even get out of bed to get it over with. I lie here, suspended, while the world spins on without me.
I feel like I have nothing left and I've made peace with hurting my friends and family. They know about my mental health issues, so it wouldn't be a huge surprise if I passed. They know the storms raging in my mind. The constant battle with myself. My passing wouldn't shatter the sky, just ripple through the familiar gray.
Yet I am wrapped in my dissociation, locked in this invisible cage that stops me from following my dreams.
I'm just hoping for a manic episode, like a spark, giving me energy and carrying me over the brink so I can finally leave this place.
I feel so useless, like a piece of furniture sitting in the corner, slowly rotting away. I can't change my fate. If only my body could move, find some energy and mix up that drink.
Maybe then, I would finally find my tranquility.