“For a moment she saw her love anxieties as resembling those of a drug addict, of alcoholics, of gamblers. The same irresistible impulse, tension, compulsion and then depression following the yielding to the impulse, revulsion, bitterness, depression, and the compulsion once more…”—Anais Nin (via thechocolatebrigade)
tonight was the first time that i attended a support group for people who have trouble coping with their pain/problems. there were about 10 others there. i was really nervous about going into it. i hadn’t been to a support group like that for about a couple of years. it felt welcoming to be surrounded by others who hold the same pain, confusion, anger, and questions inside of them. i also discovered a couple new ways that might be able to help me break out of this prison i’ve gotten into. the meeting drained me and i remember what it felt like to be completely empty but full of hope.
i’ve hit a low mark this past week, and i don’t want to let my recovery go.
“No matter how careful you are, there’s going to be the sense you missed something, the collapsed feeling under your skin that you didn’t experience it all. There’s that fallen heart feeling that you rushed right through the moments where you should’ve been paying attention.
Well, get used to that feeling. That’s how your whole life will feel some day.
This is all practice.”—Invisible Monsters by Chuck Palahniuk
“Fuck me. I’m so tired of being me. Me beautiful. Me ugly. Blonde. Brunette. A million fucking fashion makeovers that only leave me trapped being me.
Who I was before the accident is just a story now. Everything before now, before now, before now, is just a story I carry around. I guess that would apply to anybody in the world. What I need is a new story about who I am.
What I need to do is fuck up so bad I can’t save myself.”—Invisible Monsters by Chuck Palahniuk
“Some nights, alone, he thinks of her, and some nights, alone, she thinks of him. Some night these thoughts, separated by miles and time zones, occur at the same objective moment, and Ray and Mirabelle are connected without ever knowing it.”—Shopgirl by Steve Martin (via thechocolatebrigade)
“Heroes didn’t leap tall buildings or stop bullets with an outstretched hand; they didn’t wear boots and capes. They bled, and they bruised, and their superpowers were as simple as listening, or loving. Heroes were ordinary people who knew that even if their own lives were impossibly knotted, they could untangle someone else’s. And maybe that one act could lead someone to rescue you right back.”—Second Glance by Jodi Picoult.
“People come, people go – they’ll drift in and out of your life, almost like characters in a favorite book. When you finally close the cover, the characters have told their story and you start up again with another book, complete with new characters and adventures. Then you find yourself focusing on the new ones, not the ones from the past.”—The Rescue by Nicholas Sparks.
"I haven’t left my room all day. I keep thinking about the sweet face of Sara. We were in group and it was her turn to spill her dark secrets. She had those eyes that always looked tired no matter how much concealer she piled underneath them. She played with her hands, looking down at her shoes for a good two minutes before finally parting her lips. She started telling us about how one day she was sad for no reason and it just got increasingly worse day by day. Soon she pushed up her sleeves only to show a large collection of bracelets. Sara talked of her boyfriend, and the nights they spent in his van - making love, discovering a new world underneath the sheets. As she spoke of the first time she cut her skin with a razor she slowly started to take off her bracelets. There were scars zig-zagging up and down both of her skinny, frail arms. Sara looked at me for a second before talking of the day that her boyfriend overdosed on cocaine. I shifted uncomfortably watching her blue eyes turn grey as she replayed the day in her head. She spoke of his funeral, not only for him, but for her too. She decided that the day he died, she did too.
I sat in the shower for an hour that night. I held the razor in my hands. I’d never felt release through pain. I’d never attempted it. I watched the blue veins twirl around my skin and got dizzy thinking of the blood flowing underneath it. I tried to decide if I was alive. I was breathing, I was thinking, I was talking —- but I wasn’t feeling. What’s living if you can’t feel? I pressed the razor to my skin and as I did, something popped into my head : it was Sara’s face. Sara’s tired eyes.
I put the razor down and washed the shampoo out of my hair. There wasn’t going to be another funeral, for anyone — and if Sara wasn’t alive, then I would live enough for both of us.
“You’re going to come across people in your life who will say all the right words at all the right times. But in the end, it’s always their actions you should judge them by. It’s actions, not words, that matter.”—The Rescue by Nicholas Sparks.
“I like to see people reunited, I like to see people run to each other, I like the kissing and the crying, I like the impatience, the stories that the mouth can’t tell fast enough, the ears that aren’t big enough, the eyes that can’t take in all of the change, I like the hugging, the bringing together, the end of missing someone.”—Jonathan Safran Foer (via aeloquence)