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❣ Chile in a Photography ❣
wallacepolsom
dirt enthusiast
AnasAbdin
Acquired Stardust
YOU ARE THE REASON
Keni
One Nice Bug Per Day
Not today Justin
art blog(derogatory)

roma★

PR's Tumblrdome
Cosimo Galluzzi
styofa doing anything
we're not kids anymore.
Stranger Things
Sade Olutola
$LAYYYTER

Kiana Khansmith
seen from United States
seen from Brazil
seen from Poland

seen from United Arab Emirates
seen from United States

seen from Vietnam
seen from Italy

seen from United States

seen from Türkiye
seen from United States
seen from United States
seen from New Zealand
seen from Germany

seen from Türkiye
seen from United Kingdom
seen from Türkiye
seen from New Zealand
seen from United States

seen from Japan

seen from France
@wizeled
sleep is stolen time. don't let them take it from you anymore. tonight. we are staying up. til one billion o clock.
FORBIDDEN FRUITS (2026) Dir. Meredith Alloway
Grief is really just love. It's all the love you want to give, but cannot. All that unspent love gathers up in the corners of your eyes, the lump in your throat, and in that hollow part of your chest. Grief is just love with no place to go
— Jamie Anderson
“No matter how good you are with words, it's inevitable that meaning is lost between your mind and someone else's. Trying to communicate is like throwing a cup of water at a thirsty person's face. It's better than nothing, sure, and a teaspoon of water might hit their lips, but oh, God, there's just so much water in the grass.”
— Jacqueline Novak, How to Weep in Public: Feeble Offerings on Depression from One Who Knows
I need to find some way to fix my brain. Maybe I genuinely need SSRIs. Because working out is just not doing it anymore.
I don't know how much of it is pharmacologically negotiable. It's not like an SSRI is going to change everything wrong with my life right now.
It's a bandaid when what I need is radical change.
But maybe the bandaid would give me the strength to make those changes?
Maybe.
Oreo most likely has breast cancer of all things. And I'm... Devastated. I cannot imagine him dying.
Sometimes it genuinely feels like I'm losing everything.
I don't know what I'm doing most of the time. My past is full of shameful moments that I think I've moved beyond. I think I've done the work. I think I've learned to communicate more authentically and empathetically with those I love. I try to pick my battles. I try to listen to the hurt and grow from it.
I try to be the very best version of myself.
I think a lot of my life is ruled by my anxiety. I'm worried about not feeling authentic. I worry about losing love. I worry that my close contact with others will destroy more than is built in its wake.
I worry about the decisions I make and if they're selfish. I worry that I'm not making hard decisions at all and if that's selfish.
I worry about loneliness. I worry that my bids for connection cause loneliness in others. I worry that isolation will kill me but that maybe I deserve it based on what relationships with me have done to others in the past.
I worry about being forgotten as much as I worry about how I'll be remembered. I wonder if a safe life is more worthwhile than one that has its risks. I wonder if choosing safety is a risk in and of itself.
I spend entirely too much time inside my head. My friend Mic told me today that she only wants to create art. I thought of what drives me. What is my passion? What is my purpose? What do I like to do more than anything else?
And my first thought was thinking. The one thing I do the most and spend the most time doing. I spent my academic life on thinking. I majored in thinking. I go on long walks to think. I go to coffee shops to think. I go to concerts to feel and then spend the day after thinking about how it felt.
Rumination is my love and rumination is my misery.
I don't think that thinking is living. But I spend my life doing it anyway.
Maybe I need a new hobby. Rumination sounds suspiciously like ruination.
What kind of mental illness is it to dream?
Hi Tumblr,
I'm having the slowest breakdown and I think by May this might be the worst I've ever been. It's like: I'm glad I have the maturity to not fall to absolute pieces in my life and that I'm able to maintain my job.
But internally I am losing all focus on why I'm still here. I cannot handle the internalization of these emotions but I don't feel like I have a choice anymore.
I can't help but wonder if this is all there is left of me. It doesn't feel like much anymore.
The world is unrelenting as is living. So it goes..
Matt Damon as David Norris | Emily Blunt as Elise Sellas The Adjustment Bureau (2011)
who needs enemies when you have your own brain
The patterns are there and they don't stop. I'm sure now that I cannot be with anyone like this. I do not have the tools to be in a relationship.
It's not that I think I'm unable to get better. I even think that I have, gradually, over many years. It's that I know the starting point from which I'm coming is so far underground that I don't think I've even surfaced yet.
Writing this is hard because no matter how I try to process it, it feels like just feeling bad about myself for the ways I hurt others. But I do feel bad about myself. I don't want to be alone. I want to be a good partner. I've been trying to be for years. I just can't tolerate being alive, seeking companionship and romance, and coming up wanting in the eyes of people I love. It's devastating.
But I don't want to be alone. I'm so scared that that's what's left for me in all of this. So then it's like... Maybe I should die. Maybe the only way out of pain is to cease it. I understand the suicidal tendencies of others the deeper into my life I get and the way I keep disappointing myself and everyone else I love.
I promise that I'm trying to stay against all that's logical. It's just harder and harder every year.