Energy expended merely to cultivate a societally accepted mask of sanity.
My last exam is tomorrow morning. I’m not going to make it; this is an excruciating distraction.
— Albert Camus (via onlinecounsellingcollege)
You’ve reached the Devil
I am sitting in my bathroom surrounded by cigarette smoke and the most terrifying sense of numb a human being should ever have to have the misfortune of experiencing. I’m literally suffocating in my own agony. I want to faint or vomit or leave my body but I cannot, will not look at my reflection in the mirror because I am petrified of who will be looking back. I examine the shape of my nails and wonder lucidly what it would be like to pluck my own eyes out because I cannot live in my own mind anymore. My own thoughts are fucking mutilating me and there is nothing I can do, no one who can possibly help me but myself and I know this but the nausea- the nausea is so great that inhaling alone provokes dry heaves. Please let this Ativan kick in soon, I am terrified to be conscious. I don’t know if I want to rip out someone’s trachea or my own. Mental illness is not fucking poetic. I am being burned alive by me.
— T.S. Eliot (via lazyyogi)