krs-kross

・*ੈ‧₊˚. ‧ †₊☦︎⊹♱☥🜏𓉸𐕣 ₊✞︎♰𓏶♁☨₊˚⊹. lil baby monster, ‧ freelance artist ‧ from Canada, living in New Jersey ✨ Art that doesn’t spark an existential crisis isn’t worth making.

[landsccape]

[the-sp0tless-mind]

[b0ttleb10nd]

[krs-kross]

Some flowers bloom in moonlight because they were never taught to expect the sun.

[cindy-lou]

SKINS (2007-2013) 3.10 ― “Finale”

[murderhousesoul]

Sometimes I feel like I was born backwards

[stargirl1l]

[infermiiterol]

log in loser, we're going girlblogging

[eff-ston3m]

The middle of summer

[krs-kross]

Narcissistic abuse is like carbon monoxide poisoning. You can't see it, smell it or put your finger on it, but before you realise what's going on, the poison has built up in your system to the point where you start dealing with health issues. Your nervous system becomes severely dysregulated, you become disoriented, and you can't figure out what the hell is going on.

You can't see it until it almost kills you.

[krs-kross]

Cleaning Up the Mess Someone Else Made

Healing isn’t just about moving on—it’s about cleaning up the wreckage left behind by someone who was supposed to love you. It’s about untangling the lies you were taught about yourself, ripping out the roots of their damage, and replanting something new. It’s exhausting, frustrating, and deeply unfair. Because none of this should have been your responsibility. But here you are, left to fix what they broke.

I’ve spent years cleaning up the mess my mother made of me. Healing from her narcissistic abuse, from the absence of love, support, or respect. From the way she made achievements feel hollow, as if no success could ever be truly mine. From the conditioning that told me things had to go a certain way or they weren’t worth having at all. It makes me sick to realize how much of her mindset I had to fight against just to exist on my own terms. I’m still cleaning up her mess.

But the most painful part? Realizing it never had to be this way.

My son proves that. He is, in many ways, like me. And yet, he thrives in ways I never did. Not because I changed him, but because I didn’t break him. Because I gave him the love, patience, and respect I never got. He doesn’t have to fight to prove his worth in his own home. He doesn’t have to question whether he’s too much or not enough.

And in watching him, I finally understand: I was never the problem.

For so long, I believed I was. That something about me was inherently difficult, unlovable, or wrong. But the truth is, I was only ever a child, desperate for love that was never freely given. My son has shown me what should have been possible all along.

Healing is hard; and it’s never fair. But if there’s one thing I’ve learned, it’s this: the damage someone else inflicted doesn’t define you. What you do, to undo it, does.

[krs-kross]

[productomag]

PETA intervention at christian dior fall 2003

[lemonzmac]

[krs-kross]

[krs-kross]

[krs-kross]