galinioara

my name is frederike and i don't what the fuck i'm doing

[batwan-deactivated20220318]

Sex Education | S02E08

[depressedbarbie]

[augustpoetry]

“i was terrified of loving anyone again after the last

so I built the highest walls

and I turned my feelings off

but you came

you came and I fell hard

i blindly rushed in

only to feel the same pain as before

i love you

but sometimes I realize you aren’t worth the pain

i make you most important

while you don’t even notice the pain you cause me

I wish over and over

that you’ll stay

that you’ll need me too

but no matter how many times I wish

you could never love me

the way I love you”

Wishes // J.A.

[julykings]

hmm. want to settle deep in this thought for a while. of that kind of kiss. i haven’t kissed in so long. think about it a lot tho, hands on the back of my neck, in my hair. weird things. like how my ears have  never really felt that love. like sunlight. or so heart heavy. like breaking my nose. no, that’s never happened. the most dangerous i’ve gotten is kissing that boy when i didn’t know myself well enough. the most dangerous i’ve gotten is also being a boy. that gentler kind. i’d like to think so. i’d also like to get my teeth knocked out sometimes. not really. okay, a little bit. sometimes my bones ache in my face to be touched.  i ache a lot, in general. but mostly grind my teeth in compensation. 

[z-ndjenja]

[coffee-alien]

“Imagine having a child that refuses to hug you or even look you in the eyes”

Imagine being shamed, as a child, for not showing affection in a way that is unnatural or even painful for you. Imagine being forced, as a child, to show affection in a way that is unnatural or even painful for you. Imagine being told, as a child, that your ways of expressing affection weren’t good enough. Imagine being taught, as a child, to associate physical affection with pain and coercion.

[samayla]

As a preschool special ed para, this is very important to me. All my kids have their own ways of showing affection that are just as meaningful to them as a hug or eye contact is to you or me. 

One gently squeezes my hand between both of his palms as he says “squish.” I reciprocate. When he looks like he’s feeling sad or lost, I ask if I can squish him, and he will show me where I can squish him. Sometimes it’s almost like a hug, but most of the time, it’s just a hand or an arm I press between my palms. Then he squishes my hand in return, says “squish,” and moves on. He will come ask for squishes now, when he recognizes that he needs them.

Another boy smiles and sticks his chin out at me, and if he’s really excited, he’ll lean his whole body toward me. The first time he finally won a game at circle time, he got so excited he even ran over and bumped chins with me. He now does it when he sees me outside of school too. I stick out my chin to acknowledge him, and he grins and runs over and I lean down for a chin bump.

Yet another child swings my hand really fast. At a time when another child would be seeking a hug, she stands beside me and holds my hand, and swings it back and forth, with a smile if I’m lucky. The look on her face when I initiate the hand swinging is priceless.

Another one bumps his hip against mine when he walks by in the hallway or on the playground, or when he gets up after I’m done working with him. No eye contact, no words, but he goes out of his way to “crash” into me, and I tell him that it’s good to see him. He now loves to crash into me when I’m least expecting it. He doesn’t want anything, really. Just a bump to say “Hi, I appreciate you’re here.” And when he’s upset and we have to take a break, I’ll bump him, ask if he needs to take a walk, and we just go wander for a bit and discuss whatever’s wrong, and he’s practically glued to my side. Then one more bump before we go back into the room to face the problem.

Moral of the story is, alternative affection is just as valid and vitally important as traditional affection. Reciprocating alternative affection is just as valid and vitally important as returning a hug. That is how you build connections with these children. 

[brighteyedbadwolf]

This is so goddamn important.

I verbally express affection. A LOT.

My husband… doesn’t. I don’t know why. For the longest time part of me wondered if it meant he loved me less.

At some point I told him about a thing I had done as a kid. Holding hands, three squeezes means ‘I Love You’.

Suddenly he’s telling me I Love You all the time.

Holding my hand, obviously, but also randomly.

taptaptap

on my hand, my shoulder, my butt, my knee, whatever body part is closest to him, with whatever part of him is closest to me

All the time.

More often than I ever verbally said it.

It’s an ingrained signal now, I can tap three times on whatever part of him, and get three taps back in his sleep. Apparently I do the same.

It’s made a huge difference for us.

People say things differently.

[inkskinned]

i have always had this trouble. my soft heart and good listening meant i was always, always, always somebody’s therapist. i was dealing with so much of my own shit that it seemed unfair not to be there for someone else. i knew exactly what it was like to reach out and be shut down because “they don’t have time”. i knew what it was like to have someone say “just go to a therapist.”

it ruined my life. i want to make this very clear. when i was younger and before i got good at boundary settings, it ruined my life. i was so invested in the internal lives of people i still considered “friends” who were using me for endless emotional labor. it completely disregarded that i was also mentally ill and struggling. i was constantly anxious, rarely sleeping, unable to control the actions of not only the other person - but also of myself. i poured hours a day into trying to talk people down from things i couldn’t talk myself down from. wasn’t trained at all. i was triggering myself by talking about certain things, throwing myself into a deeper hole in the hopes i could maybe drag everyone else out.

a lot of these people don’t even talk to me anymore. they found a new therapist and moved on, because they weren’t my friend. they were using me for my advice and time and endless attention. putting myself into their hearts didn’t push all the bad stuff out. it just made me drown in the bad stuff.

and it’s complicated; because i’ve been on both sides of this. desperately needing to just vent, no threat of the police, no professional setting, just me and someone i trust talking. i would fall into bad patches and my family would have to scrape me up. i would spend months in a bad place. needing to be pushed. to be prodded. so how can i say “don’t use your friends as therapists?”

the truth is, there’s a huge difference between leaning on someone versus expecting them to be there for you all the time when you don’t return any of that effort or emotion. i had a “friend” who waited 5 hours until i was home from a loved one’s funeral, and when i said “i’m home”, she just launched into her own problems. i remember sitting on the kitchen floor and sobbing because she literally didn’t even ask if i was okay. she didn’t ask if i was ready. she didn’t even ask anything, she just assumed that i was always there for her, always, and that she didn’t need to be there for me.

and the truth is: i don’t need much. i actually get uncomfortable when my friends thank me a lot. but the difference between a friend and someone you’re treating like a therapist is that friends let friends have their own moments. and i know that we have all had overlapping emergencies. that you know he’s having a really rough time because of his classes but you were just triggered by something you weren’t expecting. but friends are the people who start with “i know it’s a bad time, i just need to vent, are you okay?” not the people who don’t even acknowledge the bad time. not the people who don’t give me the option to say “no, i’m not okay, if it’s an emergency we can talk but i’m in a really bad place and i can’t stand anything else.” i can’t save you while i am also struggling to save myself. friends are the people who maybe, yes, vent - but then give you the option to also share, to have your voice heard. you know that you’ll get a chance. maybe not that day, but soon, if you wanted it.

there is a huge difference between someone asking about my life, genuinely listening and responding, and then talking about their problems, versus someone who basically says “are you gud?? okay here’s my life trauma for you to deal with.” everyone here has been in a conversation where the other person was literally just waiting for you to shut up so they could hear their own voice. that’s what it’s like as a therapist friend, all the time. your life becomes this inconsequential thing to them. peripheral to the help you can give.

and if you’re the therapist friend, it’s hard. do you have any idea how much responsibility i feel, all the time?! the sad thing is yes, i overextended myself and became majorly suicidal because of some of my friend/patients - but i know that if it helped them, just a little, it was worth it. but my personal safety a- mental and physical - shouldn’t be offered at all in the trade.

real therapists, paid-for-it therapists…. they’re not on every hour of the day. they go home and have a home life where their patient isn’t texting them every 18 seconds about a new emergency. that’s because the human spirit can’t survive that. we can’t survive that. and as the therapist friend, it’s hard. we are givers, you know. feel better when helping. 

but learn to set boundaries. i’m so used to the whole therapy thing that i can literally tell when someone is switching from my friend to my patient. i pull out all of my personal information. i put up a bunch of walls. i make their notification different. when i see it’s a message from them, i do a self-check: am i ready for what might be inside? do i have the energy for it? can it wait until i am in a better place? will it ruin my day? 

and learn to say no. be honest. if this isn’t a true emergency, learn to say. actually, no, i don’t want to deal with this. it doesn’t have to be for “a good reason”. it can just be …. that you’re not their therapist. you’re their friend. you saying “no” isn’t being selfish.

i know texting has made it easy to forget this. but …. the next time you’re about to vent to a friend, just ask: “i need to talk about something heavy, are you in a good place?” and when you can, give back. remember to talk about their favorite book, or ask about that party they went to. because it’s okay to lean on people. but just give back a little of the energy you took.

[inkskinned]

probably the worst of it is i know our love wasn’t storybook just-got-swept-up. i know we had something that didn’t work; i spent too many summer nights sobbing over shit you said. 

but i loved you. i loved you even though it was stupid, and that’s the worst of it. do you know how many times i’ve been asked, “well, what exactly were you expecting?” how many gentle we-told-you-so pat-on-the-back “you should have gotten out sooner” speeches i’ve heard. “what were you thinking” and “why do you let yourself get burned”. 

i knew better. i knew better. i told myself i could do better.

but i fell in love like this-is-forever. i fell in love like best-friend star-struck. every time you smiled at me i felt like i got hit by a truck. for a second i actually thought. for a second when i lied to myself. for a second there i saw us. i knew better but.

it’s one thing to get my heart broken. but did you have to make me feel so fucking dumb.

[inkskinned]

on a scale of one to ten how sad are you.

you almost say seven but the answer floats in your lungs like rising mud. you shift your shoulders. some part of you is already forming an excuse. that it’s not that bad sometimes. one, two, three on a day that the clouds are out. you’re just complaining about stuff. yesterday you laughed past a brick of a four, does that make the brick come down to a two-point-five.  the solid seven panic attack of last tuesday feels somehow like a little thorn, just a regular day full of a gentle three-point-nine earthquake rocking after yesterday’s close-to-an-eight. see but if tomorrow you have a real bad day, it will make today look simple.

and what if. what if tomorrow it’s a big old red eight-point-nine. like one of those days where sirens are going off in every part of you but you’re stuck behind a glass window watching it all burn down. like one of those days that your skin against the air feels foreign. like too much of everything. like sitting-in-the-shower, like can’t-eat, like the tide isn’t just coming in, it came while you were sleeping and now you’ve gotta learn how to swim. like bounce me against a bullet hole kind of day.

you keep numbers like nine and ten way out of reach. those are for the people who really are suffering. you’ve got no excuse. nine and ten are funeral numbers, for real problems, not yours, no. and sometimes you’re fine. and you’re kind of used to it. and it’s not sad, it’s just numb like a television caught on static. numb like i can’t remember if i care about this. numb like nothing works but i can’t be bothered to fix it. that’s not sad that’s every day stuff. everybody feels like this, right? feels like they’ve been shut off. right.  

maybe five. right in the middle. like not gonna shoot myself but i’m not wasting your time. a nonanswer. like could be worse could be better. like i need help but i don’t want you to worry even though i need someone to worry about me because i can’t worry about myself. maybe five. but what if five is too small. what if five is too big. what if -

“on a scale of one to ten,” he repeats into your silence, and then pauses. “and please be honest about this.”

[inkskinned]

not to be fake deep but gay culture is having a complicated, flawed relationship with the people who were supposed to be there for you. the blood relatives you refuse to come out to, the ones you regret being honest with, the ones who give you that sharp, knifeblade smile like they know they’re supposed to be fine with you being gay but fuck they’re upset about it

gay culture is finding a new family. rewriting the one that you lost. the sliding sideways glance of two people in a room “i got you”. replacing the bits of you that fell out and finding - oh, oh, this is what love was supposed to be, isn’t it, where i open my heart and the teeth don’t come out. where you can say “i need help” and a hand opens and not to take. a house, sometimes; more often just a series of shared spaces where cat-like you lounge with the weirdest people you’ve ever known, the most beautifully honest human beings who let you be weird too (they’re not actually weird, you realize one day, it’s just weird to you that they aren’t angry, and that idea makes you drop what you’re holding). no, we can’t talk honestly with our dads and don’t bother with our moms. we feel what is unsaid like a second person we carry with us, a hand over our mouths. it’s okay, and it’s not okay, and when it’s not okay, you say: i need a hug. and you get one, always.

[galiniaora]

Absolutely love her, faves of her new album sweetner are: better off, goodnight n go, breathin, R.E.M, god is a woman 💖

[galiniaora]

[endless-puppies]

Puppy bundle!

[aquatinaashly]

Me

[tobebraveenough]

“How dangerous it is to fall in love with your best friend. At first, it’s subtle. Small thoughts that you brush off like dust on your shoulder. Words that are not worth saying. Actions that are not worth doing. And so you continue. You sit by their side and laugh– louder and louder each time. You’re starting to forget why you even laughed to begin with. You used to say their jokes were lame. And soon, before you even realized how deep you were in, you’re starting to drown. Because now, you’re falling in love with their smile. You’re falling in love with the way they say ‘what if’ like the phrase was something special. You’re falling in love with the way they move their hands when they talk, how animated they can get when they’re excited and how defeated they look when they’re tired. You’re in love with things you never thought you could love. How their breath smells when they lean in close to whisper in your ear. How they shoot vodka like its water. And it’s killing you inside. Because you know that each playful punch from them isn’t romance. That the way they love you isn’t the way you want to be loved. And that when you fall into the same bed together after a drunken night out, their arm that drapes around you is only there because they’re passed out. And so, how dangerous it is to fall in love with your best friend. Because there is so much you know and there is so much to love. But most of all, there is so much to lose”

— j.n.

[tobebraveenough]

“I wish I could say I didn’t regret what we had but the truth is I regret it all. I regret believing that we made better lovers than friends. I regret the kisses and I regret the vodka shots I took like water. I regret the night I looked into your eyes and asked you to hold me, to stay, to never let me go. And the worst part is that I regret loving you. I regret giving you everything I had and asking for nothing in return. So I really wish I could say it was all worth it in the end, but honestly it wasn’t and it never will be.”

— j.n.

[shewriteslikeshebreathes]

“The only power I seem to have is absorbing everyone else’s sadness and taking it from them!” She cries. “I feel everything they feel, and hold it for them so they don’t have to feel that sadness anymore.” She shakes her head and looks to the floor. “I’m so tired of everyone else’s sadness I can’t feel my own anymore.”

Excerpt from the book I’ll never write

[wordsnquotes]

Tao Te Ching by Lao Tzu  |  @wordsnquotes