"I could pull myself together for most work and social situations, but then I would feel the gloom gathering and rushing down on me…
What’s wrong? People asked. But I didn’t have an answer. There wasn’t one thing. It was everything, especially me.”
This article rings so true for me, during a time where I remember often wishing I could melt into the ground and disappear, wishing I could take a break from living for awhile. I never could do self harm, it just didn’t seem like it could help me feel better, nor did I contemplate suicide but there were times where I wished I wasn’t alive.
It’s interesting to read about depression/anxiety and how it affects people, because there are different experiences/relationships to it. This was the first article that I felt really connected with my experience, in some way, and so wanted to share.
Dear future child
If it’s 3am and you find yourself in a world of complete despair
Please do not turn to strangers on the internet for solace as I did
Please climb onto my bed
And I will hold you until the demons sleep
If it is Thursday morning and you are too sad to move
I won’t force you
I will buy ice cream and we will watch your favourite tv show and I will remind you of your importance
If you feel as if you have no purpose
I will remind you that you were created entirely with love and every pain you feel, I feel too
When you’re sure you can’t go on anymore
I will tell you that when I was 21 I searched for peace at the bottom of a vodka bottle chased by a bottle of pain killers
But that five years later
When you were placed in my arms in the delivery room
I realised that you were why I had been holding on
Without realising it, you saved me, do you know how amazing that is?
So if you ever feel like grabbing that vodka bottle, put it down, we will get in the car and I will drive until the sky turns magenta
I will show you how the sun rises every morning to encourage you to rise too
Sweetheart I refuse to be unaware of your sufferings
As my mother was to mine.
Post with 3 notes
i see many kids come in who clearly have emotionally abusive guardians/parents. the thing that makes it most apparent — besides the parent constantly putting them down — is the way the kid holds themselves. they often are timid, shy, slightly avoidant, and withdrawn. it’s so disheartening to see becuz not only are their self esteems being affected, but the parent/guardian never realizes what they’re doing.
if i see someone doing this to their kid, i automatically take the kids side and make an effort to say positive/validating things about the kid. i hope the kid realizes what i’m doing, on some level — i am on your side. i get it. it’s a shitty situation, and one day you won’t have to deal with it. but for right now, i’m hoping to give you a glimpse into that positive future. hang in there
when educ majors post a response to an online discussion board and don’t know how to use “effect” and “affect” correctly.
rlly. and you hope to be an english teacher!?
oh and when your teacher asks the class who likes to read and there is a girl @ your table who shakes her head appallingly and mouths “no” with disgust — get the fuck out
you should go into teaching because you LOVE TO LEARN not because you want to hang out with kids all day. UGH PEOPLE GET IT TOGETHER, THIS IS OUR COUNTRY’S EDUCATION AT STAKE HERE.
"I wish I could show you, when you are lonely or in darkness, the astonishing light of your own being." - Hafez, 14th century.
Post with 2 notes
“She said I love the way you think, but I hate the way you act”
Mother, he is a gentleman.
He is a builder with bricks of moonlight.
He knows the secret places of the earth.
He washes the sleep from the eyes of the souls.
He lets them look on beauty.
He lets them tell him they hate him.
In the mornings, I gather berries and apples.
I scrub his back with rind.
I weave spider-spit, eyelash.
He talks in his sleep pudding, fire, discus,
the things he misses.
He breathes, Your body is my orchard.
I am undulating grass.
I am a field of wheat he parts with his fingers.
Poppies bloom in my veins.
When he kisses me, he tastes pomegranate.
The night crawls nearer.
The moans of the dead roll and swell.
Mother, we are well.
Page 1 of 106