#feel deeply

[dk-thrive]

She wrote for everyone who has let the sharp edge of regret dull into a daily ache, who has been surprised by love, by need, by the desire for more, who has hesitated and lost, who has kept going, kept wondering, kept feeling, so deeply and so quietly, through all the endless days that take us from one end of life to the other.

— Jonny Diamond, from "My Mother Will Live Forever in the Stories of Alice Munro. Jonny Diamond on the Timeless Genius of Canada’s Greatest Writer." (Literary Hub, May 16, 2024)

[ardent-reflections]

I get deeply tired because everything touches me, I am never indifferent.

Anais Nin

[wordsoftheheartandsoul]

The ability to feel and think deeply is a blessing, but the burden that comes with introspection is that we often overplay the impact of infractions, insults, and iniquities. In times that we're tempted to dwell on the derailments or details of our experiences, replay failed scenarios and the should haves and could haves that go along with them, or harp on hurt inflicted by others that we don't feel we deserved - we must remind ourselves that it all serves a purpose. Every person who has crossed our paths, tears that crossed our faces, and memories that crossed our minds work together to create the mindset, faith, and people that we are now.

Morgan Richard Olivier - One Still Whisper

[thelonelyfirefly]

[ahhshoelah]

I didn’t expect grief. When I received my official ADHD diagnosis, I was ready to point my finger at everyone who ever called me lazy or selfish or unmotivated, ready to hold myself back from screaming the validity of my feelings into an unfeeling void. I had expected to feel a weight lifted. I had expected to gain hope. But I didn’t expect grief.

When the diagnosis was confirmed, the relief I felt was immediate. Finally an answer after all the questions I had been asking myself since I had had my first conscious thought. When the relief left me, anger took its place—what other emotion could I conjure when I heard the echoes of my loved ones telling me to just try a little harder, be a little better, give a little more. I was always trying harder. I was always one piece of straw away from breaking my back on the box they wanted to put me in. They weren’t allowed to be sorry. I didn’t want to let it go. I knew in my heart that I would forgive them, but my anger remained.

Somewhere though, a drop of grief bubbled up through the anger. Small at first, a gentle pop, just a whisper. That whisper soon became the small voice that had asked and begged and pleaded for help, clear as a bell. The echoes faded into the background as I shifted attention to her. Familiar, the quiet voice of the small girl rang. The unheard song of a girl who cried every time she couldn’t string the words together to express her feelings. The sensitive one, who felt too deeply, loved too carelessly and needed too much. The girl who tried to wear her traumas like a mask, an armor, to keep her safe. She was me, quiet and sensitive and unheard. 

I mourned the person she would have been if there were words to tell her story, to sing her song. It was a deep loss, seeing fleeting images of the person I might have been with the tools to help me through the worst challenges. Someone free of the torment of being trapped inside her head, someone with self-love and confidence. I mourned her. I took off my mask and so did she. The grief was so loud, an echoing cacophony, and so consuming that I hadn’t even realized that she was just my reflection. She was me.   

She said ‘thank you’, and I felt it like a vibration in every one of my bones. The echoes were scattered to the wind. Every hurt, every struggle, every tear shed broke free in one moment like some great steam vent screaming triumphantly toward the sky. I was allowed to say it wasn’t easy. I was forgiven for my shortcomings and allowed to finally see myself without donning the mask or the armor. The reflection was me and I was her and we were battle-worn and ready to recover. Now, I have to tell her story. My story. 

I didn’t expect grief, but I did learn from it.

______________________________________________

**Self-diagnosis is valid.**

Self-forgiveness is a powerful tool. You are the only one who is fighting your fight. Wear your armor today, equip your tools and remember to love yourself. I’m proud of you, exactly as you are right now. I will love you just the same when you take off your mask. Tomorrow will be here sooner than you expect, so keep your chin up.

[heartsmade4more]

You have a soft heart and a pure soul. That's why you feel everything so deeply.

[ruporas]

dragon meat, you, and me

[pacipinka]

*taps mic* is this thing on? Yeah okay so every vampire in the vampire chronicles is turned at critical a moment in their lives and beyond just the body they are in when they are turned, their mentality stays at that standstill for their entire immortality, Lestat was turned against his will, he was clinging onto Magnus begging him to be freed, so he’s constantly seeking freedom and only finding loneliness and thus turning back to people again and again, however he can’t STAND being told what to do, since he desires agency in his life so desperately, Armand was turned after years and years of abuse and lack of control but such a desire for genuine love, by a man he ‘loved’ so wholly who he felt was barring his love from him, he needs control in his life, he needs a ‘master’ but he does not desire it, it does not fulfill him, he is trapped in a room but the door is unlocked! Louis was mourning his brother, he felt like an utter failure and so he’s always seeking family, seeking people he can care for, he can coddle, he can prove he is good too, but he loves people who either cannot stand coddeling and need a sense of looseness to live (Lestat) or people who grow out of coddling who prove to Louis he will always fail the people he loves (Claudia), Claudias turning, in many MANY ways mirrors lestats in that it was against her will, she was stolen from her home, and in her immortality she desires freedom but unlike Lestat does not have the agency/ form to get it, she will always be small, she will always be looked down on, even by Lestat who cannot deny how much she is just like him *taps mic* ARE YOU LISTENING TO ME!! NONE OF THEM CAN BREAK THE CYCLE!!! TO BREAK IT WOULD BE TO UNDO THE VERY FIBER OF THEIR IMMORTAL SELVES!! THE CYCLE IS THE BLOOD THEY DRINK IT IS THE HEART IN THEIR CHEST AND IT ROLLS AND ROLLS DOWN THE MOUNTAINS AND VALLEYS OF THEIR LOVE FOR EACH OTHER AND IT CAN NEVER BE STOPPED BECAUSE THEY WILL NEVER STOP LOVING EACH OTHER!!!!!!!!!!!!

[drulalovescas]

When Supernatural premiered on September 13, 2005, the CW network didn't exist yet. The touchscreen phones didn't exist yet. Tumblr didn't exist yet. Archive of Our Own didn't exist yet.

Happy anniversary to the only show ever.

[nick-nellson]

#job interviews be like NEW GIRL | 1.04 Naked

[mamaclownhunter]

Ok I lied I have art that was too fun not to share

Listen- I need combative “I hate you bro but I would also die for you” platonic cumplane

I need Shang Quinghua calling Shen Quingqui a hussy and a harlot

I need Shen Quingqui to respond with a full bodied cathartic “bitch” I need them to be venting out frustrations every 2 seconds and ruthlessly gossiping the next. I need them to immediately turn on anyone that talks shit on the other.

Pls for my health.

[silna-pdf]

Some people just slip your mind, some people are everywhere you look. A grey countertop in the lounge looks just like the countertop in your friends apartment. Now suddenly you’re recalling him leaning on it and attempting to touch noses with his cat, just like when you smelled cigarette smoke while leaving a store or seeing his favorite restaurant outside of town

[thelonelyfirefly]

[inkskinned]

today i love the red metal crane in her long neck arching her body over the boston skyline, which means i am okay for a moment. when i am unwell, everything is a little ugly. i always tell myself look for the beauty but when it is bad, i will look at birds and sunsets and little ducklings and feel absolutely nothing.

when my brother got his puppy, i was in a deep depression. what kind of monster isn't affected by a puppy. i was gentle and kind to her - i just didn't have an emotional reaction. she's five now and i feel like i spend all of our interactions apologizing to her - i don't know why. i just didn't feel anything. how embarrassing. i feel like if i admit that, i'll seem cruel and jaded. it comes in waves. like, two months ago when i went out into the world - it was like that. life behind a pane of stormglass. a firework could go off over your head - nothing. like dead skin, no reaction. not to ice cream or rainbows or baby chickens. life foggy and uninteresting.

i love goslings again. i love their little webbed feet splayed over grass. i love good food and live music and long walks. i like puppies. i feel like some kind of my soul has been starved - i keep staring at everything with wide eyes, trying to burrow the sensation into my stomach. it's real. beauty is real. when it's bad again, remember this. i stop and smell the flowers, feeling cliche in the moment. i like the white-to-red ombre of my neighbor's roses. i like colorcoding and yoga and cold drinks. i try to pass my hands over every moment, feeling like i'm squeezing joy out of every instant. remember this. for the love of god, it's real - just remember this.

[keferon]

The tac net crash chapter is one of my favorites so far~

Ah and. Guess what. I just discovered that including this post, I made 50 pieces of fanart for Mistakes on mistakes until.. I’m so sane and normal about this story can you tell👍