Meds

Stopped taking my meds two months ago
Guess you could say i missed feeling low
1000 voices in my head that hate myself
Then I make shit decisions and fuck my mental health
Still wish I was unstable and got drunk just to feel
Happier when I’m questioning whether I’m really real
What’s the point of paying 50 quid for therapy
When I’m much better being sad like I’ve always been
Would rather want to kill myself than improve myself, not much good for my mental health
My therapist is gonna lose it when she hears this
At least death has some finality
Bit I’ve made depression my whole personality, not ready to face the reality
Now it’s difficult to separate depression from me and even worse when I cant seem to break free of the misery that this life seems to be.
So when the reaper comes calling and puts an end to my endless falling
I hope that you can see that you made me happy but that happiness is not the be all amd end all when the rest of your life is so crappy.
Now that I can maybe find some peace in deaths sweet release. Just tell me you won’t mourn the deceased like you hurt the living.

Sad one from a whole ago

– Hope

Relapse

I relapsed last month. Three years of progress reversed in one night. Now relapses occur every other week. I’m not even ashamed. Sometimes I think I deserve this, to never get better. For now, I’m counting the days since I last relapsed in single digits. I’m back on 0, wondering if I’ll ever make it past this.

I guess it’s goodbye

All good things must come to an end. That’s what they say. Good things fall apart. Hearts are made to be broken. Mine certainly is. The grass is always greener on the other side. You always want what you don’t have. My life is on repeat, a broken record. Fall in love, fall out of love, break a heart, or two, or three. Find another poor person to destroy with a heart that can’t love and a brain that can’t come to terms with the fact that maybe it’s me. I look around and see happy people and think that maybe good things only fall apart for me because I’m the one with the detonator. Can I not love? Or will I not let myself love? I might be broken but every time I do this I break myself a little more. I don’t think the right person is out there for me. I don’t think I deserve someone like that. For how can one deserve love when they’re so incapable of loving. How can someone crave affection when they can’t procure a single drop of it. How can someone look in the mirror after breaking the heart of yet another person who has been nothing but good to them. You cannot deserve love when one is so incapable of accepting it, producing it or displaying it. I always thought I wore my heart on my sleeve. Now I don’t think there is a heart for me to wear. They say all good things come to an end. So I guess this is goodbye.

-Hope xx

Sometimes there’s someone

Who doesn’t love a bit of melodrama from a while ago

Sometimes someone walks into to your life and fucks it up forever. They walk into your life and straight to your heart as if they were always holding a key that you didn’t even know existed. Sometimes that someone will hold your heart for eternity and you don’t even know. Always able to destroy you. But what no one tells you is that finding out that they hold your heart is the most earth shattering moment you’ll ever have. I put on the blinkers. Build my wall brick by brick and try hard to forget that you’re holding my heart and no one even knows. Fuck I didn’t even know. Someone told me the other day that there will always be someone you’re a little in love with and that I’ll make peace with it. I’m not sure I want to make peace with it. But here’s the thing, I could scream it from the highest rooftop and let it be known to the whole world yet then you’ll know. And you’ll be standing there with my heart of glass which is already so fragmented. That scares me more than monsters and the dark and everything bad in the world. Maybe one day, you’ll only be holding a small part of my heart and I’ll move on. But you’ll always be there, holding onto a part of me and you’ll never know. Never know that you’ll have the power to crush it into a million shards and render me never the same.

Hahahaha I’m fucked

-Hope Xx

When i recorded this

When I recorded this, the rain had just stopped. It smelt like dew and thunder and summer showers. When I recorded this, I could close my eyes and believe everything was okay in the world; if only for a split second. When I recorded this, I could feel my heart beating, keeping me alive, more than it sometimes feels. The street was lit by soft amber light and I sat in my room in darkness. The air was warm, pleasant, thick from the downpour. For one moment, when I recorded this, I thought it was all going to be alright.

-Hope x

An Ode to Live Music

A little stream of consciousness I wrote after a concert. Enjoy.

I’m a little speechless. I’ve been to a lot of concerts in the last few months. Anyone who really knows me knows how much live music means to me. It was a lifeline at one point… quite literally. So these last few months have been incredible after two years of covid hellscape and no music.

I saw Twenty One Pilots again. I’ve seen the boys many times over the years, since I started listening to them as a depressed teenager clinging onto some hope, just trying to survive until the next day.  I now remember what being happy is like, something that at times felt (and still sometimes feels) impossible. I could talk about how much this band means to me for days upon days. They saved my life; their music was my saviour. I am forever thankful for this band and the family it has given me. I have never seen  more amazing performers than these. I will never forget the feeling of screaming trees at the end of the show. I will never forget the joy of queuing for hours. I will never forget the friends i have made. I will always cherish every tear shed, memory made and smile on my face during their shows. It’s always an honour. Thank you |-/

Xox -Hope