@betterdeadthaninhell - Tumblr Blog

there’s a special kind of grief you feel towards yourself when you’ve been mentally ill for as long as you remember. you see ppl saying they long to return to their old self but you don’t have an old self, or if there was, you can’t remember it. ur “old self” was a child. this self is all you’ve ever known. then there’s the fear that comes with trying to find out who you are without your mental illnesses, it’s all new to you and you don’t know if you’ll like who you’ll be

tvuniverse

HEATED RIVALRY -> 1x06 | The Cottage

akindplace

this friday remember to keep climbing out of this hole that resembles the grave but isn’t

lilmamabeyellin

prioritize people how they prioritize you

konoko

ntrider

is there any trait less attractive than a lack of curiosity

betterdeadthaninhell

!!!!!!!!! people be so fucking boring these days fr

firstfullmoon

hanya yanagihara “he is so lonely that he sometimes feels it physically, a sodden clump of dirty laundry pressing against his chest. he cannot unlearn the feeling” vs heather christle “I sometimes imagine a metaphysical strainer I could rinse my body through, until I am whole and clean in the sink, and all the despair is held separate and dripping above. I imagine i could toss it away” vs chen chen “I wish I could peel / all my sadness in one long strip off my skin / & toss it in a bucket. no one would have to carry it. / it would just sit there & be punished. / it would just sit there & think about everything it’s done”

bgm05

Most things have a secret cuteness if you look deep enough

sirlonius

You tryna go half on a playlist?

throughmy-eyez

youareoutofyourelementdonny

inkskinned

you're not quite an emergency, is the thing. you're just having a bad spell. so what if you can't ever really catch your breath. can't ever really feel at ease. a buzzing, terrible feeling.

but emergencies are loud, and passionate, and hit the floor. you are not a lion or a hurricane, you just live in a pretty okay apartment and your back hurts. you wake up and drag yourself out of bed and banish what if i was dead thoughts like cobwebs. you pick out your clothes and try to stay active. you apply for jobs on the internet.

the anxiety is a wave, and the depression is a spiral. the other stuff keeps things "colorful." you mitigate your symptoms and take your meds when you have them and you try to hang out with friends. you go home and your head is full of riverwater. no matter how much you sleep, you still stay tired. you journal and practice gratitude and build from the bottom upwards. and still, the haunting.

you're not a 911 call or a shriek. you're just staring up at the ceiling and feeling the house settle into your bones. you feel you are playacting as a wolf when you're only a sheep. not quite dry and not quite drowning.

over and over, you slog through the creek.