One Nice Bug Per Day
will byers stan first human second
$LAYYYTER
Love Begins
ojovivo
Andulka
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PR's Tumblrdome
noise dept.
macklin celebrini has autism
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Lint Roller? I Barely Know Her
YOU ARE THE REASON
Cosmic Funnies
Xuebing Du
Jules of Nature
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Three Goblin Art
DEAR READER
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@tanngonzales
This space no longer feels safe, and I’m done pretending it does.
I am still loved, still seen, in places where my presence is not an afterthought.
I deserve to be recognized in my own light — not only through the glow that falls on someone else.
It’s a strange heaviness — being hurt but too tired to explain why.
The mind keeps tugging at both sides: “Say something” and “Stay quiet.”
Part of me wants to be understood; the other just wants to disappear into silence until the ache feels smaller.
It’s not about anger. It’s about feeling unseen and too weary to make anyone see.
So I sit with the weight of what I wish they’d notice on their own.
Warm Hands, Slow Hours
A slow Sunday at Ailo Café feels like pressing pause — just me, my latte, coffee warm in my hands, and a little corner of San Juan that refuses to rush, time moving just slow enough to notice.
A gentle night under the stars to welcome 33 — quiet laughter, meaningful moments, and the comfort of the people I love.
It was simple, heartfelt, and full of light.
One of those rare evenings that settles softly into memory. Grateful for it all. 🤍🤍🤍
Why do I still feel broken? 😔
Lord, heal the parts of me I can't share with anyone. If this burden must stay, please help me carry it. 🤍
How do you manage to endure so much pain and anxiety?
I just wanted some rest. A break from all the expectations and responsibilities that are constantly pulling at me. Everything feels so heavy, and it’s like there’s no escape from the pressure. I need a moment where I don’t have to pretend, where I don’t have to meet anyone’s needs or fulfill anyone’s expectations. I just want silence, even for a little while. To step away from everything, to breathe without the weight of everything hanging over me. But it feels like there’s no room for that, no time to just be still. And that thought alone makes me feel even more overwhelmed.
So I just keep myself busy. I fill my days with things to do, tasks to complete, just so I don’t have to stop and feel. I smile my way through all of this, even though inside it feels like I’m breaking apart. It’s exhausting, pretending like everything is fine, trying to look like I’ve got it all together when really, I’m just holding on by a thread. But I keep hoping that if I stay busy enough, if I keep smiling, maybe I won’t completely fall apart. Maybe, just maybe, it’ll keep me from feeling the weight of everything crashing down. But I’m so tired, and sometimes I wonder how long I can keep this up before it all unravels.
And I feel so bad. It should’ve been your moment. Your time to shine, your time to be happy and at peace, and I couldn’t keep my thoughts in check. I wasn’t able to control them, and in doing so, I took away from what should have been yours. Now, I’m left with this overwhelming guilt, wishing I could somehow take that moment back, fix it, and make things right. I hate that my struggles and chaos spilled over into something that was supposed to be about you. I wish I could have been present for you, the way you needed me to be. But instead, I just feel like I failed in that, too.
I find myself talking all the time, as if unloading my thoughts on the first person who will listen. It’s like I can’t keep them inside any longer, but the words come out uncohesively, scattered, all over the place. It’s like having multiple radios playing at once—each one broadcasting different thoughts, worries, and emotions—some podcasts, some music, all overlapping, and I’m struggling to listen to them all at the same time. I don’t know how to make sense of it. I’m terrified of staying quiet or even just feeling sad. It feels like if I allow myself to feel any of that, even for a second, I’ll lose control, and that could send me spiraling back into that dark place. The thought of losing that grip I’ve managed to keep on my emotions makes my heart race. I’m so afraid of falling back into that numbness or deeper despair, like I’ll never find my way out again. It’s like I’m fighting every moment to stay afloat, even if it means talking without pause just to keep the chaos from swallowing me whole.
I’m so scared about going to my doctor. The thought of her giving me the power to decide whether or not I should reduce my medication terrifies me. I don’t feel ready to let go of the numbness it gives me—it’s the only thing that has kept me from completely falling apart. Without it, I don't know how I would survive. I keep asking myself, Am I ready for that? I’m afraid of feeling everything again, of facing the emotions I’ve been avoiding for so long. The idea of being "normal" again feels like an impossible task, like there’s no way to go back to that version of myself. I feel lost in this in-between space, stuck between needing the numbness and being terrified of what happens if I let it go. Am I normal? Is this enough? I just don’t know how to move forward from here.
My thoughts feel suffocating, like I’m drowning in them with no way out. Every day is a battle between trying to appear okay on the outside and feeling completely lost on the inside. I’m exhausted from pretending, from putting on a smile I don’t feel, just to get through another day. It’s like there’s this constant weight pressing down on me, making even the simplest tasks seem monumental. Inside, I’m screaming for help, but the words don’t come out, and even if they did, I wonder if anyone would truly understand. I long for something, anything, that could make this feeling go away, even for a moment. I wish I could feel lighter, more present, like I’m actually part of the world around me, but instead, it feels like I’m just a shadow, disconnected and adrift. Right now, it feels like reaching for peace or relief is like trying to grab hold of something that’s just out of reach—always slipping through my fingers.
Lately, I feel offended almost all the time, even when I know I shouldn't. It’s like I’m constantly on edge, and every little thing seems to trigger a wave of negative thoughts. When my people share happy experiences with me, I can’t help but think the worst, like they’re somehow rubbing it in, or I’m not enough to be part of their happiness. I know this isn’t rational, but it’s hard to silence those thoughts. It feels like I’m drowning in my own insecurities. I’ve become so afraid of failing again—of not being good enough, of letting everyone down once more. That fear is so intense that it stops me from even trying sometimes. It paralyzes me. I just keep thinking about how things went wrong before and wonder if I’m doomed to repeat those mistakes. It’s like I’m stuck in this cycle of negativity, and no matter how hard I try, I can’t seem to break free from it. I want to be happy for others, but sometimes, it just feels impossible. And I can’t help but feel so alone in this struggle, as if no one really sees how much I'm hurting.
It will all make sense in time.
I wish I’m dead.
I want to die.