#depression hours yall

[coolcoolwithyou]

[tireddovahkiin]

CW: VENT POST!!! mentions of depression/indirect mention of suicidal thoughts/unhealthy coping mechanisms

Y'all I've come to a conclusion that seeing self ship doubles MAKES ME MORE SAD THAN SEEING CANON X CANON SHIPS-

Like bc- they actually dont bother me THAT much, I think of them more like a 'alternative cursed universe where there could always be a posibillity for crazy stuff' ship. Yk, like, how there COULD be an alternative universe out there where every president of a country have to wear a maid dress or something idfk-

the world is vast and we don't know SHIT about it

BUT THE FUCKING- ... DOUBLES...

It actually really really breaks my heart... Almost like I'm watching a "thief" take away my most valuable treasure, yk... No offense to any doubles out there, you're valid, and you're no thief, you cannot choose who you love.

But I dunno... I also am very scared of "shadowbanning" in the self ship community... Like VERY scared.

With "shadowbanning" I mean, there being some bigger, more popular users on social media who are famous for being the (character's) spouse. The character we both self ship with. But of course, the popular one is going to gain much more attention and interactions because they have been self shipping for longer time, or their art/ s/is are very popular and likeable.

So, if I tried to break the ice through and consider myself the (character's) spouse, and share my self ship stuff on the platforms, I would be DOUBLE IGNORED, and FORGOTTEN above all.

And I cannot have the same mindset with the canon x canon ships, because I know that person DOES exist in real life. And that they the character much longer than me... And have merch... And celebrate anniversaries... And treat the relationship as a real one.

It's literally like a war... where the more 'loved' one wins.

Don't get me wrong. I ALSO want to do that form my own f/os. I WANT to build the a shrine, I WANT to treat my ship serious, I WANT to draw us, and to gather merch, I WANT to love my f/os as much as I feel love for them.

But sometimes, people are not able to fulfill their needs because of the situation/environment they're in.

For example, they could either be financially unstable, the country they live in has no 'merch' of the said media, the family is unsupportive and abusive, or just... Be VERY busy with life in general. Not being able to give attention to even the smallest things, like stuff they love to do in free time, let alone their beloved f/o.

.. I myself am in that situation. My country is poor, I am about to enter university, I am still healing from my past traumas/trying to get better and fight off the problems on my own, even if it is VERY difficult, and no one understands. I should already work and have a job, have MY money, ACT like an adult should, and become independent. But I am not. I was emotionally scarred, which left big impact on my (concerning) social, (terrifying) future, and (nonexistent) work life.

I basically depend off my parents, and know absolutely nothing in general, like- I feel hopeless, dissapointed. Scared above all. Because I think a part of me is still not ready to move on and grow up, and I already did.

So, if I cannot take care of MYSELF, how can I take care of the sacred relationship me and my f/os have, love I feel for them? The attention I oh so, DESPARATELY want to give them, yet I don't even give attention to my life, and try to hide away from everything? How can I even think about them if I cannot think about anything else?

... I dunno. I'm just... I just sometimes think I am underserving of such recognition, and to be called the (character's) lover/friend/family. Because, not do I "ignore" us, but I ignore my life, too.

With ignore, I mean, I TRY to survive every single day as the best I can. Get over it, then repeat again. For quite some time now. Cope with "stress" (when there IS NO actual stress) with unhealthy maladaptive daydreaming methods and isolation. And the stress is just... Life, in general.

Being a depression survivor is hard, because you're supposed to find a purpose for yourself, when you didn't even PICTURE yourself being THIS far. Keep going, while you're actually still somewhat struggling to find the path, and will to continue.

You isolate yourself from the world in your mind, your safe, comfort zone. Where anything good can happen, there's no stress, no duties, adultery, no work. You ghost people, avoid everyone and everything, stay in your home, and LITERALLY survive the day to the best of your abillity. Try to avoid thinking about ANYTHING else but you, your f/os, your perfect little world. You struggle with most simple things like getting up, eating the right ammount, doing things you like, taking care of yourself, but you're supposed to be an ADULT. To already KNOW how to take care of yourself, because FAR more worse things are waiting for you out there.

I love my f/os. But I don't love myself, what I have become. And that is what makes me worried the most. I cannot become what I want if I already act this terrible.

[lilybug-02]

Comic Update Soon!

Possibly within the next week! 20 new pages Woo0!!!

[whataburger-possibly-official]

hey whata/whataburger?

Yeah?

Hm?

(if this was directed to Mod, then hi I'm here)

[mushtoons]

i hope y’all are doing alright!! we just saw that post about your grandpa being hospitalized. not sure what else to say but we’re hoping shit gets better in your life <//3

— leo (lotus sys 🪷)

he got put on life support not long after that post and according to 5 minutes ago they're probably taking him off so not doing so good but we're kicking 💪and thats all that matters rn >:'∆

thank yall tho! /genuine

[ladysqueakinpip]

[nullcanary]

"Now all my other gods are dead. Hallelujah, to the apocalypse in my head!"

[acrobaticcatfeline]

Well then.

[opticsel]

do you remember? you asked me today. do you remember the last time we talked?

i said, no, not really, because i didn’t. honestly i didn’t. and maybe i should be sorry, but the truth is i’m not.

oh, you said, i just checked. it’s been a year.

and that sounded right. it’s easy to believe it’s been a year. after all, i didn’t remember— although that’s not really saying much these days. i do remember, though, that a year and a half ago you said it’s been so long! and i’ve missed you! and can i give you my number? and i just said okay, because i remembered that one time in kindergarten when you got so mad you flipped a table and we all evacuated the classroom while three teachers did their best to calm you down without getting hurt.

a year and a half ago was when i realized you still had the same friends you did in second grade. and i don’t remember the last time we talked but i remember the time in second grade when we played together during indoor recess after i tripped over my own skirt and pulled it down to my knees. your friends teased me about my care bears underwear all the way back from the library and made me cry. you sat down next to me and sorted all the orange snap-cubes into a pile because in first grade that was my favorite color. i didn’t have the heart to tell you my new favorite color was blue.

but second grade was also the year you weren’t allowed to use scissors, not even the shitty plastic crayola ones that break if you look at them wrong. a year and a half ago i looked at your hands and remembered why. and i don’t remember the last time we talked but i remember the times- there were three of them- that i walked with you to the nurse’s office because you cut yourself too deep and the brown paper towels weren’t doing much other than turning red and falling apart in our fingers. we were in first grade and you wouldn’t let anyone else go with you. do you remember the way you used to draw on the tables with whatever was in your reach? i do. i remember wiping up bloody smiley faces before the teacher could see. she hated us both enough already.

a year and a half ago i was talking to you about your friends, the ones from second grade, and i realized you hadn’t really changed. i guess i don’t know if you’re allowed to use scissors now. it never really came up. but you’re still friends with those boys from second grade and you were talking about them the same way you did in fourth grade when our whole world was sixty kids large and we had to make do however we could. you were telling me about them and for a moment i was back there in fourth grade trying to explain that friends are supposed to be nice to you. i stopped when you started to get mad- you had been running away again, that year, and i would have felt guilty if ms. m had to run after you on her bad ankle because of me. it happened anyway a week later when you asked me to be your girlfriend. i didn’t know what demiromantic was yet but i knew i didn’t like you like that. for a single terrifying second i thought you were going to hit me when i said no, even though you stopped hitting me long before anyone else, but instead you just stuck your fingers in your ears and ran as fast as you could. they didn’t find you for three hours.

the thing is, though. the thing is. i’m not friends with the same people i was friends with in second grade. you went to a different school after fourth grade, and i stayed where i was and learned the word bisexual. i stayed where i was and wished your friends were nicer. i stayed where i was and realized i didn’t miss you. and then i moved on to middle school and stopped thinking of you at all. looking back i don’t think we started as friends of necessity, back in kindergarten before cliques spring up like so many weeds, but by fourth grade we didn’t have many options, the two of us. and your friends really were mean.

a year and a half ago you gave me your number and i remembered that time you flipped the tables in kindergarten. the rest came back later, but that i remembered right away. i was scared of you, then. you were bigger than me- taller. stronger, clearly, since it took three teachers to get you to the office. i was scared of you a lot. i had to look up to meet your eyes as i took the sticky note. you were still bigger than me but you felt smaller. maybe that’s why i put in your number and texted you, even though i didn’t really want to.

a year ago i knew you hadn’t changed because i found myself back there again, in fourth grade. you didn’t ask me to be your girlfriend this time— at least, not in quite so many words. i guess you thought you could hide behind your hypotheticals and what-ifs. i know what demiromantic is now and i don’t think i will ever feel connected to you the way you want me to. i didn’t think you would hit me this time but there’s safety here behind the glow of my phone screen, isn’t there? and i guess there was safety for you too because you ran again, in a way. i didn’t try to stop you. maybe i should have. i don’t know.

i haven’t thought of you in a year. maybe i should be sorry. i’m not.

maybe we could talk later? you asked me today. or this weekend?

yeah, i said, because it’s nicer than no, sorry, i don’t need you anymore. maybe.

[winniebell]

how dumb do I be with my tik tok posting?

[astralredd]

can someone tell me it's going to be okay

[fortunately-bi]

...... If I went on a hiatus for who knows how long again would y'all hate me....... 👉👈

[i-think-its-catchy]

.

[queenii-llama]

people will be like why are you so tired?? and you explain all the factors that contribute to your tiredness and theyre like well everyone deals with that and they arent as tired as you so?

like ? good for them i guess🤷 what do you want me to say

[mysterious-autistic-norse-angel]

Because im bored and why not

everyone else has done the note thing so like idk ill do it too

5 notes: ill drink more water

10 notes: ill FULLY clean my room(not just shove shit in a closet)

20 notes: try and be nicer to myself mentally

30 notes: be honest with friends abt how I'm feeling

40 notes: Do more school work, like actually put effort in

50 notes: actually try drawing something for funs

75 notes: do actual acne care to fix my broken ass face

100 notes: organize my hell of a backpack

200 notes: spend time making my fursona and post it on here

300: ill attampt to draw things for people(ill do 5 free things, tho my art isn't great)

400: ill add tags to my posts finally

500: figure out what in the absolute hell to do with my relationship

750: figure out my therian identity stuff cause still ocnfused

1000: actually ask for help when im depressed and shit

2000: try out a new identity that I want to try gender wise cause that's always confusing

5000: tell my dad i want to grow out my hair

10000: do everthing in my power to take care of myself and my body, something I've never done(aka love myself)

10 note limit, tags allowed, idec how much this gets, but hey, it'll motivate me to do shit w my life

EDIT: only been 2 hours or so ;-; just finished a whole thing of propel(enhanced water) planning on getting some more late, so far been kinder to myself

EDIT 2: YALL CHILL IM GOING ON A CRUISE CHILLLLLL AHHHHHH

EDIT 3: yall what- how-- why do these blow up I don't even care if it gets noted, but now I have to do all this stupid shit, like don't do this to me please, bhfdnkjmd yall meanies

[studionakamoto]

just wanted to throw my penny into the bp puddle by sharing my personal ranking of the dual position battles

limousine

2. zoom

3. man in love

4. not spring, love, or cherry blossoms

5. gang

6. home

7. law

8. love killa

9. tomboy

10. butterfly

11. feel special

12. rush hour