by Monica | genevievescuriousities

by Monica

It isn’t fun. It isn’t fake. It isn’t a show. It’s messy mascara lines and snot. It’s not remembering what happened 5 minutes ago. It’s losing loving memories with your fiancé. It’s waking up in a random man’s bed and making your way to the hospital at 1 am to make sure you didn’t sustain any injuries or STDs. It’s coming out of an alter state and realizing that you tried to hurt, or even kill, the people you love the most. It’s secrets. It’s pills and more pills. It’s therapy twice a week. It’s losing and gaining weight constantly from manic and depressive episodes. It’s staying up until 4 am hiding in your bed and crying because you’re scared of what will happen when you close your eyes. It’s vomiting and cutting. It’s thinking someone is out to get you. It’s losing control over your own mind. It’s floating above your body. It’s not being able to feel your body at all. It’s not something that is as simple as mood swings. It’s permanent memory loss, multiple names, and bruises. It’s screaming and regressing. It’s stuffed animals and soup and six year olds. It’s hard work. It’s going home and not remembering the times your family talks about over dinner. It’s multiple religions. It’s 20 hours of sleep. It’s 3 hours of sleep. It’s no sleep. It’s thinking that you’re 6, 7, 12, 14, 15, 17, 21, and no age at all. [ ]

Source: by Monica | genevievescuriousities