Growing up is weird. Losing touch with friends who you thought would be at your wedding is weirder.Â
losing touch with friends who you thought would be IN your wedding is weirder.Â
$LAYYYTER

No title available
RMH
he wasn't even looking at me and he found me
Monterey Bay Aquarium

Andulka
🪼

@theartofmadeline
art blog(derogatory)
One Nice Bug Per Day

祝日 / Permanent Vacation
styofa doing anything
No title available

#extradirty

Product Placement
Peter Solarz
Not today Justin
Game of Thrones Daily
d e v o n
todays bird

seen from United States
seen from United States

seen from United States

seen from Sweden

seen from United States
seen from United States

seen from Spain

seen from TĂĽrkiye

seen from TĂĽrkiye

seen from United States

seen from Argentina

seen from Australia

seen from United States
seen from Spain

seen from France
seen from United States
seen from Malaysia

seen from United States

seen from TĂĽrkiye
seen from United States
@letswritetheending
Growing up is weird. Losing touch with friends who you thought would be at your wedding is weirder.Â
losing touch with friends who you thought would be IN your wedding is weirder.Â
I just realized that one day he is going to love someone else. This is a strange thing to grasp. I will love someone else and he will love someone else. We will not be anything. We will not be “we.” He and I will be the separate parts of a previous whole, a whole slowly fading into a history which will be tainted and faded and blurred. The whole will be a ghost of dead thing and something never spoken of. This is a strange thing to grasp.
reblogged this over five years ago. never imagined I'd be living in the reality of it now.Â
Mania is thinking that all money you spend while manic isn’t “real money”
just spit out my water laughing so hard at this
antipsychotics making me gain weight vs my pcos making it hard for me to lose said weight
it’s HARD ok
my urge to massively and publically self destruct so someone finally proves they care about my wellbeing is at war with my common sense and terror of being seen as a burden and abandoned
Sometimes having mental illness is like living paycheck to paycheck but with your brain
hypomanic me: let me just apply for a masters degree real quick
I have such a love & hate relationship with the dreams you show up in. Last night, you were in them what seemed like all night. I love getting to actually see you and feeling like my life makes sense again. I hate waking up and realizing all you are is a stranger.
when you’re proud of your buns so you post them on the internet
missing you comes in waves
“Having bipolar disorder means waking up and not knowing whether it will be Tigger or Eeyore making your decisions for you.” — Diana E.
hypomanic me: let me just apply for a masters degree real quick
*Can’t sleep for one night*
Me: Is this hypomania?
*Buys something impulsively*
Me: Is this hypomania?
*Actually holds a conversation easily*
Me: Is this hypomania?
*Is actually in a hypomanic episode*
Me: *Has no idea*
I think one of the all to familiar and painful emotions I experience is the loss of capturing someone’s attention. The recognition that the one whose affection you held so unmistakably vanished before your very eyes. This affection dies slowly but it does not die softly. It’s like waking up each morning and another one of your blankets has gone missing during the cold winter after you’ve found just enough to keep you from shivering. You’re cold from the moment one goes missing but it’s deceptive in the way that the presence of the other blankets is supposed to still keep you warm. This absence is something I’ve experienced again and again and again without relent. I question myself — “Why can I only capture for a moment? When will I be able to capture for a lifetime?”
It would be easy just to blame it perhaps on the avenues where I find this affection. One could be as bold to say that I’ve asked for it. But, this theme goes far beyond the time and space of the most recent encounters I’ve had. It’s a ripple effect over a decade of long lost lovers and friends. All of whom have slowly but intentionally decided I was not a fit for them. In other ways, I’ve had the abrupt cut off. I used to think that was far worse. The reason being: all you’re left with is your own thoughts pertaining why the absence happen so quickly and we all know a rabbit trail of the mind is quite a tragedy. There’s something about slowly ripping off the bandaid that hurts differently. Seeing someone be there but not truly there. It feels like you begin to see them through a foggy glass window. You know it’s them on the other side but it doesn’t quite look like them anymore. The slow familiar loss is creeping back in leaving tangible and deeply imprinted foot steps of distrust this time around and I am so sad for that.
C.S. Lewis says “To love is to be by vulnerable” but I’m not quite sure anymore if that’s safe anymore.
If we hadn’t been at all Who would I be?
“I don’t even know anymore whether I am forgetting you or still waiting for you.”
— J.G.