#it’s my mental illness and I’ll do what I want

[hannahssimblr]

Astrid, 

Hope you got my postcard from Phuket, and that the Bangkok one shows up, eventually. Maybe it is actually lost, like maybe I’m doing something wrong at the post office. It’s fine if they all go into the abyss. I am writing just to write, because it feels romantic or whatever. You probably hate the idea of this. I could just text you. I texted you forty-five minutes ago. Still miss you. 

We’re in Phi Phi now. Islands, very beautiful. I bet you already know about them, but I’d never heard about this place before I came here. The landscape is kind of mental, like giants made it. Weird to look at. We went out on a little boat yesterday to see the sights. Jonas jumped off and swam, and I did not. My tattoo is still healing. Stupid fucking thing. I waved over a boat of girls and told them Jonas was saying he fancied them, and then he got annoyed with me, because he wasn’t saying that, and he was embarrassed. I think he should learn to talk to women without wanting to die, and he says I think about women too much, that I’m too invested and I should think about something else. History, philosophy, whatever. Why would I when there are women like you on the earth?

At night, instead of going out and drinking, we go to bed early, in our bunks, him on the top, me below like always, and he tells me all this shit about the Suez canal, or what the Falklands war was all about, since I was stupid enough to ask a follow up question once. Then I fall asleep to escape the boredom. We get up at six and do activities, then. Lots of walking. My body hurts. 

Jonas finally tried those scorpions he was banging on about, and now he’s sick, btw. Food poisoning. I don’t really know how to take care of him, except coming back to the hostel every few hours, making sure he has water. Until he’s better, I guess I’m just wandering around on my own. Luckily, it’s nice to look at. Maybe today I’ll swim with my arm out of the water. Running out of space. Love and miss you can't wait to see you.

xxx Jude. 

I snap open the lid of a bottle of water and carry it into the hostel room. It smells bad there, but I’ve stopped saying it, because it makes Jonas look like he’s about to cry. He’s curled up on his bunk, a complexion like curdled yoghurt, as a chink of morning light spills through the blinds and over his shivering body. Mostly naked. Too hot, then too cold, then sipping water, then throwing it up. I hover in the doorway. 

“I’ve water,” I say, and he just stares. Resigned, half-dead, maybe. “Should you go to hospital or something, do you think?”

“No, I feel slightly better.”

“Oh, okay. Do you want the water, or?”

“Yes. Bring it to me.”

I approach him like a leper, not sure why, as I’m fully aware he’s not contagious, but it’s been ten days since I’ve thrown up, and I’d like to maintain my healthy aura. He regards me with bleary eyes as I back away. “It is good you are an artist and not a nurse.”

“Yeah, I don’t know. I’m not so good with illness.”

“Even though you are always ill.” A tentative sip from the bottle. “You went out this morning?”

“To the post office.”

“Another postcard to Astrid.”

“Yes.”

I can tell he wants to laugh but lacks strength, managing only a feeble wheeze. “Is she missing you as much as you are missing her?”

“No, I don’t think so. She’s much better at distance.”

“She’s an independent person.”

“Yeah.”

“Tell me what she is doing today.”

“It’s Wednesday, so probably going to reformer pilates. Then she’s supposed to meet a friend from university for lunch. After that, I don’t know. Something spontaneous and thrilling, probably.”

“And you?”

“What about me?”

He manages a watery smile. “You’ll be doing nothing again today? Missing her?”

“I was thinking I might wade into the sea, actually. Keep walking out until I disappear, wailing after Astrid like the pathetic little freak I am.”

“It’s Wednesday?”

“Yes, Wednesday.”

“I signed up for something today.”

“Well, I don’t think you’ll be going, by the cut of you.”

“No,” giving up on the water for now, he rolls onto his back, watching insects congregate around the plastic light fixture. “You could go in my place. It’s a… meditation thing.”

I pull a face. “Meditation? That thing where you sit cross-legged and go like ‘om’?” I demonstrate, but feel bad for making him laugh. Apparently a bit painful for him. 

“Yes,” he says. “Kind of. You might find value in it.”

“Is that the kind of guy you think I am? With like, dirty feet and harem pants?”

“Since I am the one who signed up, is it the kind of person you think I am?”

“Not far off.”

“Well, meditation has many benefits. It’s not just for the dirty-feet-squad. It’s good for people who suffer with various mental health concerns, and people who have racing thoughts they cannot stop and such things. Maybe it will inspire you to stop thinking about women’s breasts.”

I scoff. “Why would I do a thing like that?”

“So you can think of more productive things that will inform you, and grow your mind rather than rotting it away.”

“Like the Falklands war, for instance.”

“Yes, like the Falklands war,” he says, suddenly animated. “Thank you for saying that. Or the targeting of Libyan migrant workers on suspicion of being mercenaries by—”

I take a brisk and decisive step out of the room. “Well! Glad you’re feeling better, Jonas. See you later. Keep drinking that water, et cetera.” I swing the door shut and amble away, down the hostel hallway and back to the beach, rearing for another day of nothing, bored senseless by the edge of a lonely ocean.

Beginning // Prev // Next

[will-of-dumpsterfire]

[angelnumber27]

It’s so embarrassing and heartbreaking being in so much pain over losing someone while knowing they don’t give a fuck if you live or die. Your favorite person becoming a stranger is a special kind of hell.

[tovarishch-dyke]

I’m like Johnny Truant in the tags of every goddamn post I make or reblog on this site and I’m not apologizing. If you want me to apologize come over to my house and you can talk to the minotaur about it

[pilonciillo]

on another note

[mars-ipan]

kinda funny when ur brain’s gut instinct is repression so you just kinda watch while your stress and emotions get bottled and corked and the whole time ur just like “that is going to bite me in the ass so bad later but i can’t seem to open the damn bottles without getting glass everywhere so! guess we’ll wait”

[seventh-district]

it’s finally getting cold enough that i can bring my cardigan collection back into rotation without feeling like i’m gonna melt into a puddle the second i step outside!!!

[rosicheeks]

Unfortunately relatable. I grew up in the church and have a lot of Christian trauma from that. I show up for special occasions for my parents… sometimes. But it’s uncomfortable from the moment I step through the door. Bigoted pastor, the self-righteousness disguising the prejudice, the political comments from the altar. Shots at young people left right and center as if the hell on earth wasn’t caused by the same older generation 90% of the congregation belongs to..

I miss being young in the choir and the youth groups and not struggling with it. It’s wild to look back at the younger version of me who was unshakeable in his faith and honestly just saddening.

I was texting my sister today about it and she said

“I 100% think ALL of us have a ton of religious trauma and everyone else in the family just doesn’t realize it cause they’re still drinking the kool-aid.”

I ran out of tag room and didn’t want to delete any 😭 seriously not lying I could write a book about all my thoughts and experiences

[will-of-dumpsterfire]

[flowercrowngods]

Hi! This might not be too helpful but I thought I'd share anyway just in case. You wrote in an ask reply tag that you realized that you are not a person who is okay but that it is alright. That reminded me so much of some of my own realisations about myself. I've come to learn that I cannot handle as much as others. Cannot take on as many tasks, as many meet ups (even friendly), or fill my day with as many things as people around me. It always felt like that meant that I was somehow less or weaker. But runninng into the same phenomenon over and over again made me question things. Also I would never think this about anyone else, this painful way of thinking was only reserved for myself. But with time I figured that maybe it was absolutely okay to have a different capacity for things. This is FINE. I'm not wrong or weak for this. Don't get me wrong, its still a daily struggle to remind myself, but it does get easier to believe.

So when I read this tag of yours I was really hoping that you meant it in a similar way, where this knowledge can bring comfort. You deserve the comfort! Wish I could hug you tightly 🫂

i love that you sent me this ask. i love that you worked (and are working) towards acceptance and respect and gentleness. you deserve that and i’m proud of you 🤍

as for myself, it’s a bit like that too, yeah

“i’m not okay but it’s fine it’s fine we move on anyway”

some days it means “i’m not okay but what the hell am i gonna do about it now except watch cartoons and try not to think until not being okay is not as prevalent and choking anymore”

some days it means “i’m not okay but i’ll try anyway, who knows what good might come of it”

some days it means “i’m not okay but in 10 minutes or an hour or tomorrow might be so i’ll put myself out there”

some days it means “i’m not okay and i haven’t been and maybe never will be and i get to mourn that, i get to be angry for all the past versions of myself who were refused help, i get to do things for them, because we are not okay and we get to be angry but still we deserve nice things”

some days it means “i’m not okay and that’s fine because there are people who will help me”

some days it means “i’m not okay and i will take a break now, i will breathe and try again later, or accept that simply cannot do this right now”

sometimes we just live with that mental limp, and some days it’s worse than others. we can’t pretend like it’s not there — what good would that bring? no, we just live with it. it’s fine, it’s fine, we move on anyway. but still we get to decide how and at what pace and in which direction we move on. it’s just the moving on part that is non-negotiable, and i feel like we deserve more credit for that — mostly from ourselves.

[sanchoyo]

ough isn’t it so fucked up that objectively good things happening still manage to give me anxiety so severe it makes me physically ill and cry. Like bitch we were upset bc we were gonna lose our insurance and are broke and we got a job!!! That’s a good thing why are u even more upset and freaking out!! Be normal!!!!! 🔫 sprays self with spray bottle

[stabyou]

[szczylpierdolony]

i should lose more weight

[moon-sie]

Fuck I fucking hate people

[cats-in-the-clouds]

my sister got engaged and we’re all really happy for her but my bitter rain cloud of a dad (who naturally she told last) is giving her a bit of passive aggressive grief about it despite her boyfriend being like the best man of our generation (presumably either because he’s not catholic or because my dad sees them as young dumb unemployed people who aren’t ready for marriage or because he’s mad he barely has any real love with his own wife or something). so like pray for us? i wish i knew what to do

[tipytap]

debating getting mobility aids again