Kindness takes time (threat).

He/They, 22 | Vent blog, ask to tag. DNI if proana, terf, no/map | Still trying to get better but in a much healthier way!

[thatcupidmf]

Little Galaxies by E. J. Lovee

[reclaime]

So much of what is considered a "sin" by Christianity is just....being a human being? Our inherent human nature is pathologized to the point where it becomes insufferable to live because you're constantly aware of how "sinful" you are.

Oh, you got mad at some asshole? You've basically MURDERED him in your heart, you disgusting evil freak. Oh, you think that person is hot? You've essentially committed ADULTERY of the heart! Repent, you whore! On and on it goes for small inconsequential and entirely normal parts of the human condition:

Feeling sad? You're ungrateful.

Lazy? Idle hands are the devil's playthings.

Forgot to pray this morning? HOW COULD YOU BETRAY THE ONE WHO DIED ON THE CROSS FOR YOU??? How could you think so little of Him???1!11

Disappointed? Your faith is pathetic.

And everything good you've ever done, said, or accomplished is all due to God because you're a worthless sinner anyway. Everything from a good test score to a friend's compliment to graduating college or getting a job or avoiding disaster----it's all thanks to God that you even have these undeserving things. Nothing good ever comes from your sinful nature.

Is it really any wonder why we have such little self-esteem?

[laurendlessly-deactivated202401]

Really hating how xtianity’s sin concept is almost exclusively based on what you think vs what you actually do. Cut to me having intrusive thoughts, not knowing what they were, and thinking I was evil. But I never actually did any of these things. Of course, sky daddy was watching me, so it still mattered to him apparently. I hate xtianity.

[loveshackz]

long time nuclear waste warnings + angels

[bruisedpeachpoetry]

I am frustrated. For years I've tried to explain that I have a developmental disorder, that I'm not lazy, I'm not stupid, I'm not the disrespectful dead beat made from poverty and bad parenting that people think I am. And even if I was, I still deserved to be treated like a human. I'm not like this on purpose, I swear!

Yet. Barely a week on ADHD medication, my room is clean. Actually clean, not just free of large trash and dishes. I remember simple tasks even when I get distracted by something else. My emotions are more easily regulated. I didn't get overwhelmed by a more complicated task and freeze. This is what I've wanted for years and yet its bittersweet because I fought for so long for just the bare minimum.

Was I not worth it before? As a child? When I couldn't put my thoughts into words about how I felt so worthless when I couldn't do things because of ADHD? My treatment I worked so hard for is tainted by years of blatant ableism and classism.

[bruisedpeachpoetry]

Even a worm will turn, I am told. Even the most gentle of hearts curdle when pushed enough. I wouldn't know this firsthand, because I am not a worm. Compare me still to an abandoned dog, lest you forget I did not choose to be like this, reactive and scared, fur matted and shriek sharp. I bite the hand that hits, but I'm no longer a pup, my reactions have consequences that tear at me far worse than my teeth ever could. I was soft once. Good god, I was sweet once. Unfamiliar with the taste of blood, the sting of neglect, I was clean once. With time, I could be clean again. My fur could be brushed, my teeth scrubbed free of red, my nails clipped instead of bit, trade my collar for a necklace, this cage for a home. With time, I could heal. Let me be gentle once more.

[ghostgiving]

a little thing on being a csem victim and the wound that will never close

please don’t reblog this to nsfw blogs or repost it (reblogs are fine)

[bruisedpeachpoetry]

ADHD is a disability. I know this. Nobody else around me does. When I say I can't do something, I don't need tips, I don't need encouragement, I need you to believe me. I need just one person to believe that I'm not lying when I say I am unable to do something because of my literal developmental disability. No more "just push through", no more "try harder", no more "I did it and you can too", because I am absolutely sure that in this moment I am unable to fucking do it! Please believe me for once. Please.

[bruisedpeachpoetry]

I was doing quite good. Why did I remember? I didn't want to remember. I forgot for a reason.

[bruisedpeachpoetry]

I'm now legally an adult. Which is strange to think about considering I've spent so long hating and resenting most adults and now I'm one of them. But I know I've got minors that follow me that don't want to interact with adults at all, so this is just a heads up.

[wild-suggestion]

Sometimes I miss the rage. It kept me warm.

[thatcupidmf]

A list of Things that just are.

Bread that feels slightly off-center

Your favorite song but a key higher

Soft ice

Carpet that somehow is a different color but only you notice the obvious difference

Lost time

Time that should be lost but you were painfully aware of it slipping away

Your name. It's your name. Look. It's you.

Hands that certainly belong to someone

Lights

Candy that tastes right but it's Wrong

The idea that you might actually be real

The comfort of knowing you're not

An ache that you can't locate

The smell of burning rice

Shaking

This list

[bruisedpeachpoetry]

At some point you have to realize that you are lonely if you were abused as a child or abused now. You were isolated. You were missing that support system a child needs. It's alright to be lonely, you don't need to invalidate yourself by listing your friends and people you can rely on now. Growing up in that situation is cause enough to feel lonely. Sometimes it feels like there's nobody but you. That's ok.

As the youngest of four, I was incredibly lonely. It doesn't matter that my brothers are protective of me and we are close now. Because they were untouchable and rarely wanted to hang out with me. My sister and I are thick as thieves now, and I look forward to each moment we spend together. But that doesn't erase the fact that for many years she barely tolerated my existence, and would rage at me for the smallest things. I've been out of boarding school for almost ten years now, and I have good friends. That doesn't replace the years I spent being abused and isolated. I was so lonely that it shaped who I am now. I am my own best friend, and my own enemy. I don't need a second opinion because I've already gone through the possibilities. When I think of my future, I am alone. Loved and appreciated, but alone. I make my decisions alone and I appreciate my own company. I get overwhelmed in groups of people. I cannot reach out to my partners and friends in times of need. I constantly play a part, and as soon as I start having a serious relationship with someone I start wishing I wasn't in it anymore even though I'm happy. Commitment is a scary word. I am still lonely.

[bruisedpeachpoetry]

We gotta talk about the fact that nightmares aren't all screaming and tossing around. you don't know something is wrong until you wake up with a foul taste in your mouth. A recurring theme in my nightmares is my realization that this is in fact real life and I can't wake up. It is always a soft thought. It comforts me, just like it used to when I was little, thinking I was imagining it. I'm not dreaming and I'll never be able to escape the abuse, because this is real life. It adds an edge of realism to the nightmare, cementing my belief that once again I'm stuck, wishing I was dreaming. I don't wake from those nightmares with a start. I wake slowly, gently. And I'm always terrified.

[bruisedpeachpoetry]

There is a sort of care after self harm. A gentleness I wouldn't normally have. Like I'm patching up a small child who's scraped their knee instead of a sullen teen whose pride is more injured than their body. My hands aren't as rough. I think quieter, as if I'll break if I am cruel to my reflection during this time. It reeks of love.

[maddreaming-blog]

Do you guys ever come to the sudden realisation that all your daydreams and paras and plots just… aren’t real. Not only are they made up, but they aren’t a book, or a movie, or a tv show… You could die and all your worlds would die with you. Nobody would know that inside you lived a thousand people. Nobody would care.

[maladaptively]

say it with me

maladaptive daydreaming isn’t positive for everyone

dreams can turn violent and dark so quickly u guys

some people’s daydreams tear their life apart

maladaptive daydreaming isn’t positive for everyone