beurre monté my beloved
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beurre monté my beloved
goobers
flowers will be named literally anything
Arwen loves when I put ice cubes in her bowl. She loves to put the ice cubes in her mouth and jump up on the bed and put them on my pillow. And lick them. While they melt. And then leave them there while she goes to get more ice cubes.
So I've been taking sertraline for my PTSD for several years now and I just noticed the other day that I don't care about commas anymore. I'm texting walls of unbroken run-on sentences to my partner without a care in the world. And there's all these little things like that that I hadn't realized were symptoms of some sort of hypervigilant perfectionism just absolutely draining my mental and emotional resources dry because I was so afraid of doing something the wrong way and getting killed by a tiger or whatever. I was killing myself trying to only share the most perfect and polished version of myself and everything I created and apparently I had never felt relaxed for a single second in my life and now I'm freeeeeee
Arwen has figured out Light Switch 🙃
I love spinning wool I dyed. It's so satisfying. Looking at all the colors going through my fingers like fuck yeah good choice me
kill me