just another monday

mental health recover is hard

[thepeacefulgarden]

[tocopherole-deactivated20230725]

I FINALLY FOUND THE TRAUMA BUNNY’S ARTIST!!!! and the complete ‘the hero’ series <3

This cutie has had a special place in my heart for a while now and I don’t even know if it’s really a bunny but that’s what I’m calling it :))

The artist is annalaura_art and the print is available for sale!

[lousydrawingsforgoodpeople]

[sylvaetria]

Resources for Budget Magic

Updated: July 29, 2017

[Accumulating Witch Stuff on a Budget]

[Being a Witch on a Budget]

[Budget Witch Tips]

[Cheap Pagan’s Guide (For Those Who Aren’t Crafty and Still Want to Spend Money)]

Dollar Store Magic: [Part 01]; [Part 02]

Inexpensive Witch Items: [Part 01] (cw: gif); [Part 02] (cw: gif)

[Limited Witchcraft Masterpost]

[A Low Budget List of Altar Supplies]

[Magic on a Budget]

[A Poor Witch’s Guide]

[Practices for a Beginner Witch on a Budget]

[Thrifting for Witchy Supplies]

[Tips and Tricks for the Frugal (or Broke) Wiccan]

[Unconventional & Affordable Ingredients for Spells]

[Witchy Supplies for Nomadic, Poor, Homeless, Parochial, and Anti-Consumerist Witches]

[Witchy Tips and Tricks]

[akindplace]

Beth Evans

[freudianslipperys]

a whole bunch of links for a bad day

serotonin

2048

control the weather (flash warning)

spend bill gates’ money

read a book

write without distractions

snickerdoodle mug cakes

recipes for when you’re low on spoons

khan academy

an aggressive reminder

1000 awesome everyday things

make a picrew of a worm on a string

bongo cat

useless websites

emergency compliments

a nice uquiz

more useless websites

sketch comedy

sculpt something

guess google searches

white noise

rain

customizable

coffee shop

thunderstorm + fireplace

rain on a tin roof

rain + traffic

train sounds

a fan

catharsis

scream into the void

cut your screen (trigger warning)

break glass

self-care

inexpensive self-care

small acts of self-care

develop a self-care plan

do nothing for two minutes

cope with:

common sleep problems (+solutions)

nightmares

stress

stress 2

are you stressed or depressed?

homework stress

an eating disorder

things to do instead of harming yourself

trauma

anger

worrying

grief

a breakup

the suicide of a loved one

bullying

is this relationship harmful?

sexual assault

obsessive-compulsive disorder

obsessive-compulsive disorder 2

suicidal thoughts

help

a whole bunch of hotlines

more hotlines

suicide hotlines

talk to someone

active positivity blogs

@positivityreblogs

@positivitie

@recoverystuff

@survivor-positivity

@ocdiscourse

@positivelypastelpink

@positiveautistic

@mental–healthawareness

@slfcare

@traumasurvivors

@softheartedsuggestion

remember:

drink some water

eat something if you haven’t in a while

take a break

sleep if you need to

you’re doing amazing i love you

[pwhlphilly]

This post has such 2015 energy, I miss those days, thanks op

[roadmotel]

Anne Boyer, What Resembles the Grave But Isn’t

[just-another-depressed-monday]

I am so lonely and touch starved that it hurts. My partner has been staying downstairs and I know they want me to ask them to be up here because they don't want to have to read my mind to know what I want but I'm so anxious I'll do something wrong and fuck it up. I just want someone to hold me and tell me it will be okay. I want so much for it to be okay. it's never okay.

Tw suicidaloty, suicidal ideation

It makes me start to spiral when I pull away from whatever I've poured all of my focus and attention into. Like I am a liquid and trying to be present is like existing outside a container and I feel like I just spread and spread and seep into the carpet. And it hurts and is overwhelming.

But if I focus on just one thing outside myself I can do that until I'm pulled away and reminded I'm liquid and sloshing over the sides of my container.

Because I'm always too much or not enough. I'm measured in metric when you want imperial and the conversion is work you have to be willing to do to see if I'm the right amount for you.

And I'm not. I'm never the right amount.

I'm just focused so hard I'm a solid for a moment. Finally stable. Then you take away the container and watch me melt.

I'm just so checked out I've seeped away into the apartment below with the old lady and her cats. I don't know where I am and I don't know where I go as my self spreads so thin you can see through me. Transparent like a dragonfly wing. I am almost as ephemeral as nothing at all spread thin like poorly made jelly all pectin and sugar and no real fruit.

I'm too much. Small and concentrated I tell you three facts and then tanget wildly to a related even more excited topic. I feel myself start to explain something we both know I've told you before. I know I've pulled back and none of this is surprising to you. You know I'm mostly reciting the facts and figures now. The bones of the stories I know by heart no matter who I am. The structures that are in my dense core memories that we all share. And I do not pause for you to speak because I've taken all the air and focus.

I'm not enough. My liquid body slowly melts off the side of the bed. Poured into the same Tshirt tunic as the last three days. I am a mess I haven't showered this liquid clean since I had reason to leave the house. I can smell the unclean on me and it sometimes smells like wound care. I have so much buildup in my hair that if I take my hat off it stands straight up. I have told three mental health professionals in the last month that I don't know how to start things and two of them suggested I just start things that are smaller or different than the things I need to do. Add to the endless to do list of completion. The other professional said I am scared to fail and that is true but I need to learn how and no one can explain it to me in a way thaty mind can understand.

I am too much intellect and not enough failure. I am so scared to fail that I learn the answers I'm supposed to give the mental health professionals. I know the acronyms for coping skills that have never worked for me. I can explain the mammalian dive response in my sleep but I am so panicked I cannot reach for the seven step process of getting water and ice and making a face bath of them. I am repeatedly told by professionals that I'm so smart or so intelligent or I respond to therapy well. I stare at them confused because I still want to kill myself I'm just bad at task activation. I am scared to solve this problem because what if it's the last step before I kill myself?

I am not enough of an impact to know if my life matters. It doesn't feel worth enduring for no reason but that some folk would be sad for a while. I supposey partner, 6 friends and brother would cry but I feel in my heart they would have secret relief that they don't need to care for me anymore.

I'm too much work. I cannot function as an adult on my own. I fantasize about moving far away where no one knows me and being a weird hermit. But it almost feels like just disappearing and killing myself would be easier.

I'm not enough of a disabled folk to find assistance with every day tasks. I'm not able bodied enough to exist without help.

I'm too much body. My fat and rolls padding my middle. Doctors see someone who refuses to exercise not someone in so much pain they forget to eat and their body goes into starvation mode.

I'm safe and you do not need to worry. I just needed to get all that out.

[just-another-depressed-monday]

Today I am practicing remembering that I have a body. I hate it.

I struggle to be present in my body and remember that I have a body. This results in either being a tensed up ball of rocks or being a puddle. There is not a lot of in between and it’s all heck on my joints and ligaments.

I’m hypermobile so I can relax until something pops out of place if I am not careful. It also means I can tense until something is out of place. I need to invest in more braces but they are expensive and I need custom ones for my hips that insurance wants me to jump a lot of hoops for and my PT thinks I should invest in compression leggings.

I live on money from my family and what I can beg or scrounge up so I can’t just buy stuff. So I spent time propped up on pillows or in the one chair that is mostly comfy. But I get really sore and stiff throughout the day. 

Today I am practicing by working not to let my ankles cross and not tucking my leg under myself. It hyperextends my hip and knee and I need to work on not rotating my hips out and engaging my core so I can counterbalance the hypermobile.

I also have PT exercises to do but I have been doing them at night so I can pass out afterwards. 

How do people be aware of their limbs all the time??? I feel like I can’t focus on anything because as soon as I start to focus I tuck my foot under me into my standard position.

I’ve got a resistance band loosely tied around my knees now so I can’t tuck a foot under me, but I can still cross my ankles which lets me flip my hips out. I’m like two steps from tying my own feet to something.

[akindplace]

Mentalhealthceo

[just-another-depressed-monday]

tw discussion of wounds, self harm, and general angst

Like a week or more ago I got a cut on the inside of my right calf. It wasn’t too bad. As I’ve been an anxious bean I kept worrying at the edges of it and it got infected. I’ve been trying to clean it and keep a band aid on it but it just keeps getting more puffy and red and weepy.

This morning it was sore so I took the band aid off and the constantly damp and covered is for sure making it worse. I had to scrub the gross puss and infected skin out of it. I don’t want to cover it again but now I’m hyper aware of it at all times. I keep accidently brushing it with my other leg or starting to tuck the ankle under me only to be reminded as the raw wound touches my pants. 

I struggle so much with the tiny self harm of not taking care of the wounds or taking care of them and still not being able to keep my fingers off of them. I find myself absently scratching at ingrown hairs that keep being ingrown hairs because I worry them until they scab and the hair grows under the scab and it’s a perpetual cycle.

I tried to talk about this while in patient and I got the impression that since my self harm is not obvious or too dangerous it didn’t matter. I know that this is me hurting myself in small controllable ways and my anxiety causing me to literally dig holes into my flesh. I ground by standing too long until the burning pain in my joints makes me sink down into the nearest chair. I let my elbow be misaligned and twinge as I move for hours because the pain of these small things keeps me here and not disassociated. 

I just want to float away and everyone gives me solutions that don’t hit the same way that digging my nails into my skin and pulling back before the crescent moons break skin. The deep breath and naming everything I can see that is blue don’t work when I could just run my nails over the uneven skin on the back of my arms and knock all the dead skin away, worry it until it is red but not so red it will not fade in a day.

Just writing about this feels weirdly irreverent, like I cannot properly convey how gratifying it feels, how it tethers me to this prison of flesh like no mindfulness practice before has. My therapist led me in mindful drinking my coffee last week and it was nice, it helped be here with them over zoom. But it only worked because I didn’t want to let them down. We are still scrambling to manage the hurt after the hospital barely helped and I went because they told me it would be okay. I went to the hospital they suggested. I did these little harms that don’t matter with nurses in the room because they don't’ actually care. It was clear that they didn’t think I needed their help. I felt guilty for being there.

Everyone keeps telling me I’m smart like that is a solution. I respond so well to treatment they say. They mean I know the answers and can parrot what they told me back like I understand it. I ask questions about how to apply these coping skills. How to reach for them when everything is a lot. They never have answers that ring with the same truth that biting the inside of my mouth until it bleeds does.

I will just worry holes in my cuticles and let my scabs never rest until that stops working too. Just pressure used to work. Hold my hands together and squeeze like a silent prayer. Now when it’s all a lot I feel my nails dig in, my toes curl, I slam back to here.

I suppose I should learn to accept that the kind of broken I am doesn’t have relief.

[cloudselkie]

Relaxing vibes~

[witcheswhimsy]

I found the first weeks of this year really hard. I was completely exhausted, i kinda still am. I could feel how tired I was and yet I found it very hard to allow myself be unproductive without feeling horrible about myself. Without feeling like I was letting someone down. Then I found this drawing by @lousydrawingsforgoodpeople on Tumblr and it made me smile and cry and just so many feelings. And then when I contacted them, they were so kind as to let me stitch their drawing, which is always a wonderful process that allows me to fulfill embody a message. Anyhow, please go follow their account. Its joyful and uplifting and amazing. I am very grateful for their presence. …and if you’re feeling similar things, be kind and allow yourself to rest. (Image: embroidery on white fabric of a figure lying on its sides crying with words in red over it: You’re not lazy. You’re exhausted. Beside the figure is a small skull saying: There’s a difference) . . . #YoureNotLazy #YoureExhausted #JoyInCraft #Grateful #CrawlingAlong #SewCrafty #CraftingInCommunity #MakeDontBreak #WitchesWhimsy (hier: Berlin, Germany) https://www.instagram.com/p/CZE16kstBmM/?utm_medium=tumblr

[lousydrawingsforgoodpeople]

i am crying. thank you! 😭🖤

[just-another-depressed-monday]

TW: Being misgendered, medical bureaucracy, psychology

The psych that asked me about my “biological sex” put my prescriptions in wrong. The only reason I went and saw them at all was to get continuation of coverage of my prescriptions. Somehow I still had to spend like an hour on the phone with my primary care doc’s office.

The problem ended up being that the program psych tried to put my assigned sex at birth down and it didn’t match the “gender” field that my doctor’s office has. 

I never disclosed my assigned sex because I asked her what the medical relevance was and she didn’t have one. She wanted to, “know how I was socialized”. She did not understand when I said that he asking this in the middle of me talking about my family was confusing and made me uncomfortable. 

She listed me as a different sex than my birth certificate and my state ID and somehow it’s still not the correct assigned sex. This whole thing both blows my mind and makes me worry about other trans and nonbinary folk going through that intensive program. This was after being in the hospital for 8 days and having two people of the probably 50 who interacted with me gender me correctly. 

The whole system is so irrevocably broken.

I just looked up the chart notes from the psych since she waited until our last visit on Friday to pull this shit. The first three times I saw her she started [prefered name] is a biologically male nonbinary woman. 

I am not sure what I am supposed to learn from whatever chaos that represents. It goes on to call me intelligent in that way that when mental health care providers use they mean competent and normal. I wish my apparent intelligence would help me just book smarts my way out of complex ptsd, however; that’s not how it works.

Putting aside that I told her I am intersex, and that I did not answer her further O think she saw my classically masculine legal first name and assumed that was my assigned sex? 

The notes from the prior psych I saw (more than a year ago) in the same program start. “[prefered name] is an intersex nonbinary person...” And the current psych referenced those notes...

I know this sounds nitpicky but now when my primary care doctor goes to look at my chart to correct the meds issue that’s the last thing she’ll see for me. And since she’s my new primary care doctor I’m going to have to answer questions about this with her.Not that I didn’t want to be clear and open and honest, just that I wanted to deal with my weekly migraines a bit before we had to do the sex and gender 101 talk. Because even when the chain I’m in has a stellar gender affirming clink within it not every doctor is well educated. I only had two options to pick from and the other is the one who wanted me to focus on my weight.

Largely I am writing this knowing no one will probably read it. I am just angry that I feel like I’m yelling into the void about these things still.

[cadaverkeys]

My comic for SENSORY: Life on the Spectrum! Organised by Schnumn.

On harm reduction and understanding NSSI! Many autistic folk have normalised harmful behaviours as coping mechanisms in our daily lives and this comic is meant to help people recognise their self injuring behaviours and (hopefully) begin to see pathways to reducing their frequency.

[heavensghost]

Morgan Nikola-Wren

[desert-palm]

[plasticseaslug]

[ID: a tweet from @/posthuman. It reads, “Remember, if you buy an album from bandcamp, it’s around the financial equivalent to the artist of you streaming their music every day for 3 years.” /end ID.]

[xpyu]

bandcamp fridays 2022 are coming soon!! if you buy from artists on friday march 4th, april 1st or may 6th, they will get all of the earnings from sales (as opposed to the usual 80%). support ur local independent artists ^^