AnasAbdin
todays bird
hello vonnie
Janaina Medeiros
oozey mess
Cosimo Galluzzi
$LAYYYTER
Love Begins
shark vs the universe
styofa doing anything
Claire Keane
macklin celebrini has autism
YOU ARE THE REASON
Jules of Nature
#extradirty
Kiana Khansmith
Origami Around
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2025 on Tumblr: Trends That Defined the Year
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@lemissa72
Ever since you decided I wasn’t advocating enough for my husband in the hospital you have been an utter bitch with your judgment of his fucking care. Go to fucking hell. The next time you sic your daughter on me I will fucking show you what it means to not be welcome in your son’s fucking life. How dare you. Fuck off. I see you bitch even if no one else does.
I’m having a real hard time. Why aren’t the testimonies from the victims enough? Why do we need more evidence than we already have? Why is it quid pro quo that if they subpoena the Clintons we’ll subpoena Trump? We should question everyone involved in this, we should put them all in prison and throw away the key. It’s not political. It is the rape of children. Children. Rich fuckers getting away with fucking children because they like it. It’s disgusting, illegal, disgusting, sick, nasty, wrong. There is something wrong with all of these pedophiles. There is something wrong with all of us that this is ongoing and not already resolved with all of these monsters in prison.
I fucking hate being treated like a kid. I’m a fucking grown ass adult who shouldn’t be snapped at because you didn’t like how I said something?????? Seriously. Go fuck off. You owe me a god damn apology for being such an ass.
I’m tired of the violence
I’m scared of the situation our country is in - our president scares me
I’m sick of the cruelty, and hatred, and racism, and prejudice, and all of it
I am sad. I am terrified. I am worried. I feel helpless.
Fuck it all
No one, not one person at work has asked me how I am this week. Fuck you all. I’m going to stop talking in the god damn chat room. Fuck them. I won’t help, respond, be kind, fucking any thing. I get it, I’m not important. Good. Either are you. I’lll do my job every day and do it without you mother fuckers. Fuck you all to hell dick heads. Fuck you and you and you and you and you and especially you. I fucking hate all of you. I’m waisting my energy on this no more. Go to hell would you, you pseudo Christian narcissist trump voting assholes.
My aunt passed away Sunday night. I found out Monday after work. Now I’m at work again because I can’t take a day off due to training. There is no one at work I can tell what I am going through and it makes me so very sad. I know her death isn’t about me and it’s impacting many people. But I’m sad and hate being sad and alone. Looking forward to hugs from my husband tonight.
I’ve been thinking lately that if I had one wish - and not a wish like money or good health kind of wishes - but a wildest dream it would never happen for me kind of wish - I want to be in the room, a fly on the wall, a silent observer to the brightest minds and greatest thinkers in the world having the conversations that will shape the future. Whoever they are and whatever those conversations might be, I just want to observe what that sounds and looks like. I think that would be an amazing experience. That is all.
Fuck. 24 hours ago - well, really, less than 24 hours ago, I let my mom know that my husband’s grandmother had died. That I didn’t know when the funeral was. That it might impact our holiday plans. Today she fucking texted me saying I need to know if you are coming, I need to buy the food. I was fucking on the verge of telling her to fuck off that if she really needed to know to count me out and forget Christmas. Fuck her anyway. I haven’t heard anything no idea what she got so pissed off about. It wasn’t 30 minutes later when my husband told me the funeral would be in the new year. Which is fine, but why couldn’t my mom wait a reasonable amount of time for me to fucking get back to her. Why at 7am did she need to know right that moment? And if she got too much food? So what. She’s not on a tight budget. So fuck off. It’s not like she was shopping at 7am. She goes for an hour, hour and a half walk every morning. She wasn’t going to leave until at least 9am. Like what the hell. Now I’m all fucking angry and don’t want to tell my husband because I don’t want him mad at her and to say we shouldn’t go, but I don’t want to go. And she gives my fucking sister so much fucking leeway to show up, not show up. And I get shit on. Fuck you. Fuck you you fucking unfair fucking cunt from fucking hell. You have always treated me unfairly. Always less than. Always not good enough and I have no idea where this shit comes from. Yeah yeah, life isn’t fair - but this is specifically you I’m talking about. What the fuck did I do to deserve this shit. Did I piss you off somehow? Seriously, what the fucking hell.
I seem to come here mostly when I’m upset. There is something comforting that no one ever reads this, so like a journal, but someone could read it. Not sure how they’d find it, but I suppose it’s possible. My husband said something to me this week that was right shitty. He seems to be in a bad mood more and more often but doesn’t say anything and claims not to be in a bad mood and I can’t fucking confront him because he just gets mad. I hate this feeling. I hate being scared that he could say something unkind at any time then make it my fault that he never says anything because I take it so personally. I don’t know how to deal with this. I don’t know how to talk to him about it. I’ve tried and can’t seem to get anywhere. So another weekend of avoiding him and him having no clue that’s what I’m doing. This isn’t how it was supposed to be. I thought we’d be able to talk about shit but we can’t. So somehow I managed to get married but I’m still completely alone.
I think all my old posts disappeared. Figures. I came here today because it’s my birthday and I’m having a shitty day. Honestly, it’s not so bad, but my mom did things every year to make my birthday special. Once I got married, that became my husband’s job. He couldn’t care any less to the point that when I joke about it being my birthday week, weekends, or month he pushes back and is all like you just get one day. Fuck you. I don’t understand why he can’t give me this one indulgence. I am not asking for presents or cards or anything. I just want to enjoy getting to be a little special for my birthday. It’s like my birthday pisses him off and he doesn’t care or like that I want a birthday and I don’t fucking understand. Now all my old posts are gone. That’s just great. I know I have it better than most people, but I’m just feeling hurt and upset.
I’m having a tough day. I sometimes list people I hate when things aren’t going well, but today it feels like I’m always second or third on my own list. Even the smallest of mistakes can make me spiral into self-loathing. I don’t even know why I list people I hate except maybe to try and not take shit out on myself. Though, clearly, it doesn’t work since I just end up hating myself. It’s hard. How do you describe to someone what it’s like to really hate yourself? I know my husband doesn’t get it. I don’t know how to love myself either. I only see all the wrong things. All the stupid shit I do or how dumb I am or ugly or fat or or or or. I don’t feel good when I feel this way. I hurt, I’m sad, it’s a feeling I don’t have a word for. Down and depressed don’t really seem to cover it. I feel like a slug, an undefined mass of crappiness and disgusting slime that is absolutely worthless.
I absolutely hate my boss. She is the most unsupportive, unkind, bitch. I really, really, want to support her as a woman, but she just sucks. She makes snap judgements all the time and then can’t ever be convinced she was wrong or that someone has improved. She once told me that I should go on medication for my mental health. She told me today that I was so bad at something that there wasn’t enough time to help me improve and that I shouldn’t try. She also indicated there was nothing I was talented enough at to be more than a contributor to someone else’s success. She has ADD and blames that for getting names wrong, which she does all the time. Maybe that’s the reason, but it’s just one of many traits that indicate how little she cares about other people. If she’s already decided I can’t succeed, there is no point in me trying to. I want her to hurry up and retire. Maybe I’ll have a better chance under another boss - as long as she doesn’t have the chance to taint them.
She’s put down other people too. She also has her favorites that get away with everything. I want her to fucking get hurt and have to go on a medical leave for a year. I know. That’s horrible. I’m tired of leaving work feeling like shit. Like I can never succeed because I’m dumb and don’t do anything well. Like I don’t have enough anxiety and self doubt. She just makes me feel so much worse.
I can only hope that karma comes around for her. And soon.
Okay, so, I don’t know if it’s because I’m a kid from the 80s or what, but I’m very susceptible to advertising. I’m currently working on stopping my impulse buying, but, before I got it under control I purchased an infinity-hoop.
First, be aware, it ships from China and takes a while to get to you. Long enough to regret your purchase.
Second, when you get it there are no instructions to put it together or take it apart. Once you figure it out, it’s east, but it takes some intuiting. Helpful hint, bend the regular links opposite of the direction the hoop goes like you are breaking a breadstick in half and they pop right apart.
Third, I almost bought an imitation version on Amazon, then saw a video telling me all the reasons not to. Go ahead and buy another brand. Nothing special here.
Fourth, you have to work at how to make it go when you first start. I never could hula hoop so I don’t know if that helps or not.
Finally, prepare to be bruised. The weighed part that spins around hit me in the back, boob, elbow and thigh multiple times. Exercise or self-flagellation? Hard to say.
Hey, I know this is just another way to get me to move for 30 minutes a day. I have a treadmill, a beautiful area to walk outside, gyms near me, an aerobic step - I’m just trying to find something my fat butt will use. So…
Positive: Getting it to work took some concentration, so a half hour flew by. That will probably go away in time. It’s easy to do while watching TV. No need for an exercise video or to make sure you aren’t falling off a treadmill. Maybe that last one is just me. If TV isn’t your thing, pick your own music or entertainment. I did get the belt with mine which did help.
Negative: I spent way too much money even after I found a 50% off code. I wish I’d gotten one from another source that was less expensive. That weighted thing really hurts when it hits. It teaches you to keep your arms up pretty quickly once it flys up and smacks you in the elbow. It’s not a quick easy this-works-better-than-any-other-option fix. Did I think it would be? No. But there are a lot of people on social media making it seem like it is. Why? Immediately after getting you hoop you get an affiliate link that allows you to sign up to earn money off of the other people you convince to buy it. It’s a good way to advertise, I mean, it worked on me.
I’m gonna give the 30 day challenge a try. It is still exercise, so, maybe some weight loss will come out of it. If things change, I’ll let y’all know. But I doubt it will.
I want to take a minute to talk about my grandmother. She had an extremely rough life. A mother who died, a father who abandoned her and her siblings- she was the youngest. She suffered appendicitis which alerted the state that these children were living on their own, the oldest working hard to keep everyone together. Once discovered, they were separated, my grandmother sent to be raised by family. Though she never spoke of it, there are hushed confirmations that somewhere in her history she was raped by a foster brother. She married young, 16, and had five wonderful children, three girls, two boys. When her youngest was six, her husband died. I never met him. Only my oldest cousin got to do that. Although he was far too young to remember, I will always be envious.
My grandmother persevered. She never asked for help, and she never offered it. Not surprisingly, she didn’t believe in good luck, she only believed in hard work. Her daughters never got to play princess because the reality was they’d never get to be princesses. She woke up day after day and went to work, until she was 72.
I was the youngest in my extended family until I was 19. I became her favorite. It was an honor to know that she loved you and cared for you. To have been some one who she favored was a blessing. It’s a warm hug I can keep in my mind always. Being her favorite didn’t come with a lot of praise or gifts. It came with a look and a gentle kindness in the way she spoke to you.
I wish I’d valued that more when she was with us, but will always be grateful that I knew I had it. There are days when that is enough to help me through.
To give myself something to look forward to, I’m going to Ireland in 2024.
Can I just say that meditation is for mental health today what pills for mental health was in the 90’s. I understand the scientific support, but it is not the answer for me. At least not right now. And I’ve tried. A lot. Yet, I can not find a therapist who doesn’t say in their first appointment with me that they want me to meditate. If they knew, if they understood how fucking hard it is for me to advocate for myself they would know that when I tell them how I feel about meditation, I mean it. How is it they diagnose me and come up with a treatment plan in five minutes without understanding what I want to work on?
I want to understand why I am thinking like I am and what is triggering my anxiety. They couldn’t care about that any less. The last therapist I spoke with seemed shocked I would want to know why, going as far as stating she’s never had a patient so concerned with why. Thanks so much for making me feel more isolated and outside the normal social experience. Hi, I’m an INFJ, Gemini, water rat, who was emotionally abused and is still figuring out the things that my parents did that weren’t loving. I mean fuck. How often do you say something your parents did when you were younger and have someone stare at you trying to figure out if you are joking because your dad biting you to help you remember your left from right hand is a normal anecdote for you? Just me? Okay.
I want to get ahead of my anxiety, but dude, spend 5 minutes in my head and you would not recommend starting with sitting quietly for 20 minutes and focus on breathing. I didn’t even know people could do that. Seriously. It blows my mind that someone can be awake and not thinking. I feel like that is some sort of cosmic universal joke that everyone is in on but me. Like y’all really can’t do it but think it’s funny to watch me try until I’m sitting cross legged on the floor bawling my eyes out because I. Can’t. Do. It.
I’m not saying I think we should all go back to highly addictive pills or that that is what I want, but can I be treated like an individual with an individual plan? I don’t want a one size fits all who pass the standards of beauty and the cultural norm solution.
As a generation x survivor, when my sister was in therapy for anorexia, it wasn’t normal to get help. Because my mom always wanted to be fair, she said since she was paying for my sister’s treatment she’d pay for me to join Jenny Craig … a weight loss service. I was a size 8. Long way to say I’m late to the mental health party. And it’s going really really really bad.