romanticizing mental illness is dangerous and misleading
Artsy depression: haunted eyes, good at art, emo hair and eyeliner on point
Actual Depression: bloodshot eyes, no longer trust themselves with pencils, has not showered in five days
Quirky OCD: organized books, clean room, color coordinated outfits
Actual OCD: Intrusive thoughts, flipping the light switch 8 times so you donât stab your brother, picking holes in your skin
Cute eating disorders: Slim trim and beautiful, shyly refusing a second helping, dancer aesthetic
Actual eating disorders: Puffy cheeks and eroded teeth from excessive vomiting, hair growing over your freezing body and refusing to eat carrots because theyâre too high in carbs
Adorable anxiety: just a smol bean, soft, must be protected from the world
Actual anxiety: crying so hard you throw up, shaking, losing sleep over a period after the âokayâ
RPG PTSD: flashbacks, vietnam, u donât know what iâve been through kiddo
Actual PTSD: Buying your first pregnancy test at twelve, flinching at high fives, i canât feel my hands where am I what year is it
Cartoon ADHD: look a squirrel, something shiny, fidgety loveable bufoon
Actual ADHD: rereading the same page over and over because it doesnât make sense, hasnât done the laundry in four months, hyperfocusing on a mushroom knowing you have work to do
stop making terrifying realities seem cute. itâs disrespectful for those of us who are actually struggling
Fucking preach.
Uwu smol baby autism: adorably awkward, huggable, acts cute when confused, has some sort of rainman talent and a perfect memory in general
Real autism: worrying about whether youâre interpreting peopleâs cues correctly/making your tone sound correct for the context, or whether theyâre about to get wierded out and uncomfortable bc of something you said, sensory issues that drive you nuts, not being able to adapt to sudden changes in plans and freaking out, melting down or shutting down when stressed by stupid things
Reblogging for the autism part that is just too realÂ
âCoolâ Emotional detachment: The person is stone cold, so cold that Polar Bears say âman, theyâre one cold personâ. In reality, itâs more like: God, why canât I feel anything? Am I truly happy? Why do I feel so empty? Why does my heart feel so hollow? Why canât I cry? Why does it feel like thereâs an echo inside of me every time I laugh or talk or do anything.






















