#emote: mental health related

[creatures-emote-of-the-day]

Emotes of the day is...

BPD favorite person by @rngemotes

[yourdeliciouspoison]

You wanna know why I stayed and talked to you?

I saw your flaws, insecurities, trauma, and doubts. I noticed the way certain things make you tremble, but I still want to talk to you. Because even as broken as you think you are, and as much of a burden as you think you are, I see an amazing, kind, beautiful, one-of-a-kind soul that needs to be loved harder than any other.

[enii]

I hope your little heart is okay💕🫂

[bymarahh]

easy to unravel 🧵 @bymarahh

[exandrianpunk]

"love is wanting to trust somebody"

Taliesin fucking Jaffe you need to lower your voice

[shawtyimmaparty]

pretending to be happy so as to not worry your loved ones but it actually destroys you more from the inside.

[benoits-neckerchieves]

Me when I go to bed each night and am alone with my thoughts again

[littlemissemotionalandvalid]

I admire people who can share their vulnerability. It shows that they’re emotionally strong and eager to grow. Many people think that vulnerability is a sign of weakness, but in truth, it’s a sign of strength and resilience.

[phoenixshusband]

If you think Spider saved Quaritch for no reason you’re wrong, like entirely. Spider is 16. Keep that in mind for all of this. 16. Your brain finishes developing in your mid-20’s, Spider is still a teenager.

More below the cut cause I know people hate scrolling for ages through long text posts lol

Spider is a teenager that has grown up never fitting in, physically he’s human, but he’s grown up with the Na’vi and so the way he acts and thinks is that of the Na’vi. Because of this he simply will never fit in, he will always be an outsider no matter what he does. This is a child that is viewed as different and wrong in many ways, those he looks up to look down on him in all possible ways, quite literally treating him as a stray rather than a child. No, Neytiri and Jake have no obligation to raise or treat him like one of the family but as adults they do have an obligation to ensure a child is being raised right and being treated right, all adults have that no matter who they are.

So you take a child that feels like an outsider, doesn’t fit in, is mentally struggling and you have him kidnapped by the RDA and a man who is technically his father, have a guess what happens. Yeah, he gets more fucked up. I don’t know what the fuck that thought extractor machine thing is but it’s looks horrific, if Spider didn’t have epilepsy before I’m willing to bet he does now. And in this time of torture, imprisonment and fear it’s not Jake or anyone else from the camp that come save him, it’s Quaritch. Quaritch saves him, that instantly creates a bond as Quaritch gives him a freedom and safety he wouldn’t get otherwise.

With Quaritch Spider gets freedom, he can test the limits as all children will, he gets to ride on an ikran right at the front as though he was flying it, Spider gets to see even more of Pandora. Not to mention literally no one came for him, the adults (and I mean all of them not just the Jake and Neytiri) abandoned him despite knowing that the RDA is cruel enough to torture a child, they knew what he might be facing and they just left him. This kid must be in mental hell.

And it all crescendos when Neytiri tries to kill him. I do not care what you say Neytiri was justified in killing every single person on that ship brutally, they all deserved it but not Spider. He’s a teenager and innocent, she was not justified in doing that. I’m not here to shit on Neytiri though, she’s an incredibly complex and deep character written beautifully and I adore her, but that doesn’t mean wrongful actions can’t be recognised.

Which perfectly leads us to the moment. Spider is underwater, there isn’t time to think only time to act and Spider, traumatised and scared, does. And he does the stupid move of saving Quaritch. But as I’ve said he had a reason to do it, a motivation, just as Neytiri had one to put a blade to his neck.

Spider saving Quaritch does not represent the failings of his morals and his character but instead represent the failings of those around him, the scientists had an obligation to raise him and at the very least Jake had an obligation to ensure a child wasn’t being damaged mentally as he grew up, both failed in doing this and as a result a teenager was pushed to the point of breaking and he did.

Spider is not a bad kid. Neytiri is not a bad person. Jake is not a bad father. All of these can be true and so can the fact that they each did the wrong thing, and that’s a fact.

All it takes is:

Jake: Hey Norm, Spiders been hanging around the kids a lot more and I’m worried some issues might start developing, mind checking in on him?

Norm: Yeah sure Jake, no problem.

And then he talks to Spider and they can find a way to help him with his issues. That’s it! Easy.

[alicerader]

[rebellenotes]

I hate being asked "how are you?"

It doesn't matter if it's just a greeting. It'll always make me look inwards and think, how am I, really?

The answer will always be somewhere on the "not good" side of the spectrum (whatever that spectrum is). I know the appropriate answer is "good," or "fine," because the person asking isn't really wanting to know how I am doing, but it physically pains me to lie and say I'm fine when I'm not. I can't do it.

I am a great liar, but I can't lie when someone asks me how I am. It feels too raw, too exposed, like opening a wound in front of someone who just expected a wave and a smile. But I can’t keep it all inside, either.

When someone asks me how I am, a part of me wants to answer honestly. I want to say, “Actually, I’m not okay.” I want them to know that I’m not coping, that my thoughts feel too heavy, that sometimes I can barely make it through the day without collapsing under the weight of it all. I need to tell someone—someone who isn’t the relentless voice in my head—that I’m struggling.

It’s not about wanting to burden them. That’s the last thing I want. I just need to hear the words out loud. I need to feel like someone else knows, like I’m not carrying this entirely on my own. Because the more I keep it in, the louder it gets in my mind, and the harder it becomes to convince myself that I’m okay.

So when someone asks “how are you?” I hesitate. I want to scream, “I’m not fine!” but I worry about their reaction. What if they don’t care? What if I scare them off? What if my honesty makes them uncomfortable? But then I think: maybe that’s not my problem. Maybe my honesty is exactly what I need, even if it’s messy, even if it makes someone else squirm.

Because sometimes just saying it—just admitting that I’m not okay—feels like a tiny victory. It feels like I’ve broken free of the silence, even if only for a moment. And maybe, just maybe, someone will hear me and say, “I get it. You’re not alone.”

And if they don’t? If they give me a quick “oh, I’m sorry to hear that” and move on? At least I didn’t lie. At least I didn’t pretend. At least I was honest about the fact that, right now, I’m not fine—and that has to count for something.

Why are we as a society so scared to honestly tell people how we're doing? If I'm the recipient of someone honestly answering the question "how are you," (because I am also a culprit of asking it), I don't feel burdened. I think "oh, thank god I'm not alone." We may not carry the same hardships or experiences, but I can empathise with them because I know the weight your thoughts and emotions can have over you.

And maybe that’s the whole point—we’re all carrying something, but we’ve collectively decided to bury it beneath polite smiles and scripted responses. It’s like we’ve created this unspoken rule that vulnerability is too messy for casual conversation. That sharing how we really feel is somehow selfish or inappropriate, as if admitting struggle makes us weak.

But what if it didn’t? What if answering “how are you?” with honesty made us feel seen instead of ashamed? What if it created connection instead of discomfort?

It’s a reminder that the chaos in my own head isn’t unique or isolating. Someone else has been there, is there, and maybe together we can feel a little less trapped in our own silences. When someone shares their truth with me, it feels like an invitation—not to fix them or offer empty platitudes, but just to sit with them in it. To acknowledge that being human is hard and complicated and not something any of us are meant to do entirely on our own.

I think the fear of answering honestly comes from not knowing how the other person will react. What if they dismiss it? What if they pity us? What if they get uncomfortable and change the subject? But maybe the fear goes deeper. Maybe it’s because once we say it out loud—once we admit that we’re struggling—it becomes real. And that’s terrifying.

But the thing is, it’s already real. It’s already there, weighing us down. Speaking it doesn’t create the weight—it lightens it. Even if only by a fraction. Even if only for a moment.

So maybe the next time someone asks me how I’m doing, I’ll take the risk. I’ll choose honesty, not just for myself but for them too. Because maybe they need to hear it. Maybe they need to know they’re not the only one walking through life with invisible battles. And maybe, just maybe, in sharing my truth, I can make space for someone else to share theirs.

[creatures-emote-of-the-day]

Emotes of the day is...

Flashback by @tcc-mojis

[yourdeliciouspoison]

I know a lot of us hurt around the holidays. I would be lying if I said I'm not feeling a little heaviness myself. My grief still exists in the back of my mind and buried deep in my heart. Sometimes it still pops out with little reminders here and there. But this year , we will make it through together.

[enii]

[thingswedontunbox]

[binabadaboom]

maybe when people say it gets better, hold on until you get there, they mean stuff like tomorrow you will drink a delicious cup of coffee, and a week from now you will find a new favorite song, and a month from now you will see a child jumping in a puddle and smiling

it doesn’t stay better, but there are moments that are better than right now and sometimes life is holding on to one of those moments until the next rolls around

my moment to hold onto right now is a cherry tomato i snuck from the neighbors bush, which tasted like bacon and was probably the best thing I’ve ever consumed. it’s fading though, hopefully a new moment comes soon