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Best Of
Re: I hate this!!
@Sian321 its just humiliating knowing that me and my siblings lived in those conditions like ik I was 0-3 years old but still there so graphic
TW//
TW//
The articles say multiple times how we was covered in “Feces”, clothless and swinging from curtains 
River
3
Re: [TW//]I think I’m just done trying.
This is what i initally posted but got paranoid/scared of what would be said so got rid of it. But I'm going to put it in a spoiler coz it might trigger some people and I dont really want that.
Reaching out for mental health support has become more exhausting than helpful. I’ve tried the helplines. The professionals. The appointments. The meds. The “non-judgmental” chats. And yet… I feel more unheard, more frustrated, and more hollow than ever.
How am I supposed to keep trying when I get told, “We aren’t the service for you,” or “Call us back if you feel unsafe”? What’s the point in reaching out when it feels like I’m just repeating myself to people who either can’t or won’t help in a way that actually reaches me?
I lie to the people who say they care because the truth feels like too much—for me and for them. I’m tired of putting in the effort only to be met with empty reassurances and protocols that feel more like red tape than real care.
So I think I’m done. Done reaching out. Done trying to be “helped.” Done showing the broken parts. I’ll cancel the appointments. Stop the meds. Pull the mask back on and fake my way through life again, no matter how exhausting that act is.
I don’t want to be a burden. I just want the noise to stop
How am I supposed to keep trying when I get told, “We aren’t the service for you,” or “Call us back if you feel unsafe”? What’s the point in reaching out when it feels like I’m just repeating myself to people who either can’t or won’t help in a way that actually reaches me?
I lie to the people who say they care because the truth feels like too much—for me and for them. I’m tired of putting in the effort only to be met with empty reassurances and protocols that feel more like red tape than real care.
So I think I’m done. Done reaching out. Done trying to be “helped.” Done showing the broken parts. I’ll cancel the appointments. Stop the meds. Pull the mask back on and fake my way through life again, no matter how exhausting that act is.
I don’t want to be a burden. I just want the noise to stop
