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Підписники
-124 години
-27 днів
-1130 день
Архів дописів
There is a version of me that died quietly right between hope and reality. I visit him often, but he never looks back.
Never hide your bad side to make someone stay, show your worst side and see who stays.
When everyone thought you ignored them and disappear, but in reality you were fighting the hardest battle of your life and no one even notice.
When you are mentally disturbed, you don't always act kindly. You get irritated easily, and your patience starts to fade. You may speak rudely at times-not because you want to, but because your heart is tired of holding too much. You push people away, and they call it bad behavior. They see anger, but only you know the truth. It's not anger; it's mental exhaustion-a mind crowded with unsaid words, slowly turning into sadness. Emotions become too heavy to carry, too painful to explain, and all you're doing is trying to survive the noise inside
Some of us exist in the background of every story. Likeable, not loveable. Needed, but not wanted. Present, but not included. Observed, but never truly seen.
You can do everything right and still be in the wrong place. You can show up on time. You can be patient, thoughtful, generous. You can adjust how you speak, what you ask for, how much space you take up. None of that changes the fact that some people and situations simply aren't built to receive you. The door doesn't stay closed because you knocked incorrectly it stays closed because it isn't your door.
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