These thoughts are dark. The shame is so big that it tries to stop me from talking about the thoughts, which prevents me from processing the pain.
I want children of my own, but for the past few years I have been afraid that I would pass this on to my offspring. I feared how will my body and mind handle it?
I second guess everything that I choose to do. No matter what it is. Why can’t I chill out and just do something? I’m just trying to understand anxiety.
My depression is really bad lately. I find everything meaningless. I don’t even feel happy in a quiet bit of nature. I hate having depression.
I can’t say anything. He wants me to tell him if I’m ok and I am trapped in my head, but not in my body. I can’t move my eyes to look into his.
Mom liked to redecorate and renovate. She decked out the main bathroom in blue and put up yellow and blue wallpaper. The dated linoleum floor was replaced with one to match the new décor. The bathtub had always been blue, now the rest of the room was too.
I prefer to go under the radar than let people get close and reject me once they get to know me. I am afraid to be honest.
No matter how ready this anxiety is trying to make me, there is no way to prepare for doom. Living in fear is a kind of hell.
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112 & 999
112, 999, 110
112, 911, 999, 111, & 000
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