Yay (not) for nearly passing out while shopping. I was forced to sit more than half an hour on the ground because I couldn’t move. Mum didn’t know what to do besides offering me water, and all the other people only kept staring.

Hello. ♥

You’d think after living nearly 21 years in this environment I got already used to all of their fighting, to their screaming and yelling. But I’m not. I still feel like that child from all those years ago - hiding in the darkness of my cupboard, covering my ears with my hands, while tears are streaming down my face.
Seems like I never managed to get out of there. I’m stuck in the darkness of my past, while I’m dying in the twilight of the present.

I hate it when random, painful, scary memories creep their way into the conscious part of my mind. They come out of nowhere, bluntly, merciless. They remind you of long forgotten events, people, words. And you can’t do anything about. You have to endure them. Of course, you can try to distract yourself, but most of the time it doesn’t work, does it? Because it doesn’t want you to ignore it. It doesn’t want to be pushed away to the back of your mind. It wants to be here, to be this throbbing thing inside of your head, the reason why your head fucking feels like it’s going to explode. It wants to be there. Because it doesn’t want to be forgotten, because it doesn’t want to allow you to forget it.

(Source: ithurtssomuch)

And now and then I hear voices. Screaming, crying, yelling at me. Now and then I hear jarring voices shouting out for help.