Kate

My name is Kate Bradley. nibnip is my username on most websites. I do art, design, photography.

[wallaceandpestle]

photos of me getting a stick and poke tattoo for my nineteenth birthday while trying to watch the dan and phil hard launch video

[fuckmaster-unlimited]

hi people it’s dember. but soon it will not be

[mapletree100]

Now Jary :)

[fuckmaster-unlimited]

it’s jary :)

[nibnip]

@wallaceandpestle I think you have the answer to the secret of why life will work out for us one day. And it's late, but I miss you, it's funny how we are both dating diffrent boys with the same name.

[nibnip]

for the sake of it

I was never a clean girl, or much of anything that I have claimed to be. Dirt on my sneakers, grass stains on my white dresses. I am a romantic, rewatching the same three rom-coms in a row, unable to sleep with butterflies in my stomach. I am really not more than a child, just a grown-up body and a few more years of experience. So I’ve downed a few bottles of whiskey, and I’m writing about my dreams again. What I have to say to fill the silence that haunts my brain, I’ll make noise for the sake of it again. 

[nibnip]

[nibnip]

[nibnip]

person, my iPhone keeps giving me as a recommended contact

Many of these things I’ve said over the years to you, I lied. I lied, and I lied. Lying here, I wanted to let you know I'm sorry, so increasingly sorry for all that shit I lied to you about. About those things that I screamed to myself under the water last Christmas. It’s been more than a year now, the longest month of my life notwithstanding. I miss my new boyfriend and my old best friend. Wow, how these things in my life have shifted, in the shape of you, actually. I’ve met a million people in between the time when you called me your own. And maybe I was a bad friend, a bad daughter, I'm certain of. So I don’t truly know what I'm trying to say again. Oh again, it’s 2 am. Finding myself longing for something I cannot identify by name—those abstract aspects whose true worth only becomes obvious once they are gone. On the ground at 2 am, writing in your notes, apparently about something or nothing, but just because I feel bad. The reason it hurt so much is that I wasn’t willing to let go fast enough. And we continued for a year, sustaining one another, and I professed my love for you, but I was lying. Because I never loved you. I know what my love means now, and I know what we had was never love. Someone who loved me would have never treated me so brutally.

[nibnip]

Factors

There is something wrong with me. I know it, my parents know it, and I think that everyone around me must know it. Its always difficult to put this “issue” into words for me. The slouch, the look in my eyes. I dread how I have to explain and re-explain something I hate about myself. Peeling my skin open and putting it back on for strangers who tell me they are just trying to help me. I feel this sense of guilt or shame because, in all reality, it is not all that bad. All of these issues have a common factor, which is myself and a brain that makes it feel like everything will be the end of me. 

By the time I was a freshman, I had started to accept that. That something was wrong with me... I was in my “friend's” basement, or maybe it was her room, and I was among three people I hardly knew, and some kid was bleeding black from his nose. and I was freaking out, maybe because of the weed, maybe because of what happened back then. My breathing strained realizing how I’m just going to spend my life watching myself oxidize to black. That this part of me will never change. Took myself to the bathroom. My body curdled like milk, and I was watching from inside my body. Unable to claw myself out, I stood in the mirror, wishing that I could just live in the moment for once. 

Since I have been keenly aware of how my skin has felt over my body, or maybe I became aware that I was aware. Googled derelization that evening, and it fucked with me to know that there was a name for this. 

I’ve been in this ever-going battle with myself to pretend it’s not a problem and that this doesn’t bother me. But it didn’t end when I decided one morning that I wasn't going to let it effect me; it has followed me. I am no better then a relapsing member of an AA meeting; the only difference is that I’m alone, the only person here is me, self-loathing to a bunch of empty fold-up chairs

I tried to kill myself when I was fourteen and sat in my bathroom with a dull knife, but I was stupid, scared, and fourteen, so I hardly drew blood. I have never told anyone about that. It’s one of those secrets you can't tell anyone because it's just a really unfortunate thing that happened, and how do you even respond to someone telling you that? When I was fourteen, I wanted so badly for someone to see me struggling that I became that drastic. That no one did, and I woke up the next morning for the next three years holding onto that. Part of me understands how what happened was part of what made me like this.

[nibnip]

By the time I was a freshman I had already accepted my fate. I was in my friends basement or maybe it was her room, and I was among three people I hardly knew and some kid was bleeding black from his nose. And slowly I had released my whole life had oxidized to black. My body curled like milk I was watching from inside my body. and I wanted to claw myself out but I just ended up with a sore throat. 

[nibnip]

on school

People talk about hating school, but it makes me want to physically die. Every morning I struggle with my mom to even get out of bed, and I think it's coming an issue. My counselor think so too, judging by the email I got the other day. But I’m a girl with a lot of problems, and I figure they’ll just add this one to the list and move on eventually.

[wallaceandpestle]

I LOVE TESSA!!! :pppppp

NO WAY !!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

HI !!!!!

[nibnip]

teeheee

[nibnip]

on music

They say your music taste is defined from the ages of thirteen to sixteen. Sometimes I am stuck in the back of the bus wondering if I will forever be haunted by the music that made me? 

[nibnip]

Kate should shut up

I have always felt too loud, big, and out of place. I don't know when you should shut up or when you should talk. I say the wrong things, and it's too late when I understand that. However, I have so much to say that I will continue. These are the plights of a weird girl. Talking about stupid, frivolous things like Tamagotchis, cool t-shirts, and comics, and I know I KNOW I should stop talking, but I do. 

[nibnip]

[nibnip]

birthday

[midnightmothnest]

it’s okay to not know things.

it’s okay if you struggle with things that are “obvious”

it’s okay if you struggle with reading and writing. with counting and numbers, with bathing and hygiene, with your emotions and others. with social cues, with running, with anything at all. 

it doesn’t matter if you naturally struggle with these things; if it’s due to neurodivergancy or you were never taught, or if you are injured or sick. no matter the cause, no matter the skill, it is okay. you are trying, you are learning, and you are doing wonderful. and i am so, so proud of any progress you have made, no matter how small it is.

[artttho]

adhd says i simply must yell