There’s a space that no one talks about enough —
the space between wanting to live and wanting everything to stop.
You don’t want to die.
You just don’t want this.
The noise, the pressure, the endless loop of “I’m fine” when you’re not.
The weight of existing when every day feels like walking through mud.
It’s not about wanting an ending.
It’s about wanting a break.
A pause.
A moment where your mind isn’t clawing at itself.
Where breathing doesn’t feel like a chore.
You tell yourself it’s not that bad because you’re still here.
You still go to work.
You still smile when you’re supposed to.
You still do the small things — eat, reply, scroll.
But the truth is, you’re surviving, not living.
And that’s hard to admit, even to yourself.
You start feeling guilty for feeling like this.
You tell yourself other people have it worse.
You try to convince yourself that gratitude should cure you.
But it doesn’t. Because pain doesn’t measure itself against anyone else’s.
If this is where you are right now — that middle space, where you don’t want to die but you don’t want to keep doing this — please know this:
You’re not broken for feeling like that.
You’re not dramatic.
You’re not attention-seeking.
You’re tired.
And that’s something that can change.
There are people who have stood exactly where you’re standing and found their way back into wanting life again.
Not all at once, not easily, but piece by piece.
So stay.
Even if you don’t know why.
Even if you don’t believe it’ll get better yet.
Even if tonight feels endless.
There’s a version of you out there who’s glad you did.
#TriggerTopics | #TrappedMinds | You’re not alone here
the space between wanting to live and wanting everything to stop.
You don’t want to die.
You just don’t want this.
The noise, the pressure, the endless loop of “I’m fine” when you’re not.
The weight of existing when every day feels like walking through mud.
It’s not about wanting an ending.
It’s about wanting a break.
A pause.
A moment where your mind isn’t clawing at itself.
Where breathing doesn’t feel like a chore.
You tell yourself it’s not that bad because you’re still here.
You still go to work.
You still smile when you’re supposed to.
You still do the small things — eat, reply, scroll.
But the truth is, you’re surviving, not living.
And that’s hard to admit, even to yourself.
You start feeling guilty for feeling like this.
You tell yourself other people have it worse.
You try to convince yourself that gratitude should cure you.
But it doesn’t. Because pain doesn’t measure itself against anyone else’s.
If this is where you are right now — that middle space, where you don’t want to die but you don’t want to keep doing this — please know this:
You’re not broken for feeling like that.
You’re not dramatic.
You’re not attention-seeking.
You’re tired.
And that’s something that can change.
There are people who have stood exactly where you’re standing and found their way back into wanting life again.
Not all at once, not easily, but piece by piece.
So stay.
Even if you don’t know why.
Even if you don’t believe it’ll get better yet.
Even if tonight feels endless.
There’s a version of you out there who’s glad you did.
#TriggerTopics | #TrappedMinds | You’re not alone here
