Real. World.

But thats the thing about self-destruction. We grow so attached to our addictions and sadness that it becomes so intimate. We grew roots around our depression, settling in, and it became our only escape from reality. Then it hit me. It's not that we don't get better, it's not that we can't shake off our addictions. Rather, it's because we don't want to. Because if we do, we would be killing off the one sole factor that is saving us. 

People will misjudge you, people will say that you're not strong enough. And that's totally fine, because no we aren't strong. If we were we would have found a way out but no, we keep on feeding the roots with toxic alcohol and cigarettes. And we're fine with that. We don't expect people to understand, we don't expect people to care. 

If we needed saving, we would ask. But we didn't. 

We are fine.

We are okay.

We are dealing.

This is the way we deal.

This is our world.

Welcome honey.

Welcome to the real world.