"To Forget, To Forget ...", Vahan Teryan (translated By Tathev Simonyan)

𝖬𝗈𝗈𝗆𝗂𝗇𝗏𝖺𝗅𝗅𝖾𝗒 𝗁𝗈𝗎𝗌𝖾𝗌

Andrea Gibson, "DEPRESSION [VERB]", Lord of the Butterflies

㋡🥀

colors of the sky.

My heart, it soars

Spending not a single day chained to the earth no longer

While my body, it rots

Beneath the daisy field

I sit here and put words on a paper that I otherwise do not dare to say. I don’t know who to talk to. When I mention what I think about I get told that it’s only because things are just not going my way right now. Funny. I suppose things haven’t been going my way last year either. Or the year before that. Or the year before. I don’t remember not feeling like this. These words, there the same. For years now. I’m writing them down because I’m unable to say them to anyone.

I’ve reached out for help before. Got weird looks from people when I told them that I need to talk to someone. Got told that they wouldn’t be able to help me because I just needed to get over this. Everyone feels like this once in a while.

I went there once. Got told I felt like this because I’m not taking control over my life. The situation was uncomfortable. I didn’t go a second time. They asked for feedback afterwards. What was I supposed to say? Thanks for not listening, I still don’t know how to not hate myself. How to not cry. How to make my chest stop hurting. How to stop feeling like I’m drowning.

Now the thought of talking to someone is even scarier. I don’t like to talk to people anyway. What if I take all my courage and ask for help again, only to be told it’s my own fault? I know it’s my fault. I tell myself that every day. I don’t need another person telling me the same.

Pride and Prejudice (2005) dir. Joe Wright

“I’m so unwhole. I don’t know where all the pieces of me are, how to fit them together, how to make them stick. Or if I even can.”

— Kathleen Glasgow, Girl in Pieces

Fyodor Dostoyevsky, The Gentle Spirit