depression
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It’s gotten to a point where I don’t see the value in complaining anymore. I never used to think of it as ‘complaining’ until recently but my mind is still made up, it’s pointless. Yet, I find myself incapable of doing anything else. When I’m short of breath and my sorrows are louder than my
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Trigger Warning: There’s some adult language and honestly this might make you sad. I don’t care if you never read anything I write ever again if it means that you put you and your mental health first. I care about that more than views. I know I should probably seek professional advice but I’m putting
Constance Persephone 