Yesterday was one of those days where you collapse into yourself.
Where the tears seem to be coming straight out of your heart instead of your eyes.
Where you have to put your hands over your mouth to stifle the screams.
Where you’re left gasping for air under the weight of your own palpable personal hell.
Where you have to peel yourself off the floor and pick yourself back up.
These days can feel unbearable. I can be very open about some parts of my reality, but other parts no one knows about and I never speak on them. I feel like because I constantly express how on the edge I am, people don’t believe I’m truly in the amount of distress I’m in. Which, I know, really doesn’t matter, but it does bother me.
For some of us, we think about not existing on a daily basis. For some of us, every day we have to fight our mindsto stay alive. For some of us, every day feels like the last day we can do this. For some of us, every day we’re faced with the same decision: to choose between actively taking our death into our own hands, or to do whatever we can to fight and stay alive.
Yesterday was the rare occasion where I let myself inconvenience people and I reached out for help.
Just wanted to thank the women who took the time to help me get through the day:
I’m so blessed to have you as one of the only close friends I have.
you’re an angel and your ayatul kursi prayer was heard
one of the best humans on the face of the earth.
for sharing their time with us and bringing a huge smile to my face.
And thank you to those who read my often too-long posts and comment so much encouragement and positivity.
You all make a difference!! Thank you so much.