This is not the end.

This is not the end. 

Some days she feels like she needs to just take the leap. Forget the medication, the meditation, forget it all. 

But she won’t. She has something to prove and so much to live for. This is a hard fucking illness to live through and attempt to function on a day to day basis. Constant questioning about “how bad is it really?”

She will not let it end this way.

The teeter-totter between being somewhat up and being so fucking down is unreal. 

Hiding in plain sight as they say; blending in. Hiding behind a smile and humour is all she knows.

This is not the end. This is not her end. 

But at the same time, the thought of death does not scare her. She will take it when it comes – but not today. Death will not be a result of this beautiful mind trapped in a cage.

It will come when she is old and ready. Not today.

This is not her end.



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