#it's ok not to be ok

[wisteriagoesvroom]

i'm ok*

*is not in fact ok

[razreads]

Just because someone else is okay doesn’t mean you had to be.

Everina Maxwell, Ocean's Echo

[serenityquest]

[friendlycursedspaceotter]

study idea for when your brain is absolutely burnt out and you can't sleep

The Reverse Pomodoro.

You guys with executive function issues may be wondering, "How does this work? Does this work? Won't I get distracted?"

Dear reader, the point is to get distracted. Because if you're tired and can't focus, well, you're tired and can't focus. Add on not being able to sleep and maybe a case of walking pneumonia? Your body is telling you that you have a snowball's chance in hell of being able to write 2 paragraphs by 11:59 PM, do all your homework, and that you should really be prioritizing self-care instead of following a neurotypical schedule that wasn't made for you.

How it Works:

You set a normal pomodoro timer (this one's my favorite: https://pomodorokitty.com/). It helps to have one that doesn't block sites, which might seem counterintuitive. It is, but bear with me. You set the "intention" (I don't know what else to call it) to something like "self-care" or "my brain clocked out for the day." Then, for the length of the normal pomodoro, you take a break.

(My one note for the break would be "don't go on anything with a super obvious algorithm because you will never get out." You can do literally anything else. Just stay away from the algorithms.)

Here's the fun part: for the 5 to 10 minute break, work as much as you physically can on one thing. Type your heart out on the essay that needs to be written. Run as many math problems as possible. Listen to the Animaniacs songs you need to listen to in order to memorize what you need to memorize. Tackle the project one bit at a time. Just work.

As soon as the "work" timer starts, rinse and repeat until you've completed the task and not burnt yourself out in the process.

(sorry about the long post, here's a dancing potato)

[sweetiepootato]

⚠️TW: attempt of suicide ⚠️

So I finally decided to open up, but I'm too shy to send him a DM because I know he won't respond (or he won't even read it)

Let's see how it turns out

But yeah, he saved me and I'll always thank him for that 💚

[laputaindefrenchgirl]

anything, for me.

2023 is almost finished, and it feels like this year was the first chapter of my life. All the unknown emotions that came crashing onto my self that I could not have expected.

These days, some truth was revealed to my conscious being. I am dissociating emotions from the touch, as a sense. When people touch me, I feel almost nothing. I've been doing that for more than two decades now, out of protection and survival.

It is so fucking confusing.

After a decade out of deeming myself worthy of being called sensitive and wise, now, after seeing people as they are, embracing life like a bloody seer, now I have to realize that I do not know what to feel when people touch me.

Platonically or sexually. I don't know what I should feel. Like, what do I even like? I kept myself safely hidden, at some reasonable distance from everyone. But Gods, do I love, do I care, do I feel everything. But not through anyone's touch.

To unthread this thread is so weird. What is tenderness and desire in a touch? Disgust, fear and love? I'm not a hugger, except when my friends are drunks.

When I was doing therapy (EMDR, that shit is extraordinary), this question came up. Why can't I feel when people are touching me? It's always so cold, like medical. And that is alright, I guess as until now, it was. Now I'm wondering why.

So, we dove into my past. The violence my body went through. Even as I'm writing this, I can still hear my voice pleading, "You were not raped, you were not beaten!" and that is true. But to move on from this void, I will need to accept that violence is still violence, even more in the name of Science.

Their hands choking my throat while they applied plaster on my body, tears in my eyes, I couldn't breath. The way their shear cut the skin of my back deeply instead of the plaster. The blood, and vomit, everywhere. When I begged to have anesthetic before they cut my skins for exams, but told me "no" because it would disturb the results (fuck the results).

I was two, four, nine, fifteen... I was a good soldier, still am by the way. I took these blows because no one told me it wasn't okay. I only knew this, and still found within my youngest self the light which made me magical.

Consent.

The way some people grab me, to show their power over me, it is probably the thing that I went through that disgusts me the most. He kisses me, caresses me, as if it was friendly and consented. It is not because you disrespected me, and that I said NO. For that, there will be no excuse, never a fucking single one. I scream inside like a wounded animal at that thought.

Once, a physical therapist told me to bend on my knees to show her my back. I complied, because she's an adult, right. I was seven. Then she raised my tee shirt and then, lots of hands touched me without asking me, the skin of my back. I remember the strokes and the humiliation. I didn't know who they were, didn't see their faces, but to this day, I still wonder, why?

This is a beginning. I'm headed in the direction of the answers I'm seeking. I dissociated to not feel these strangers, and my own revulsion.

Also, eerily, it fits the imagery I created much later, of my own mythology. I'm a sculpture people touch and seek answers from. Leaving me with nothing but my own questions.

If my soul chose that path, that life, then why does it feel like as if I'm forever stuck between feeling like a burden and my inner god's complex? I love romance but not the pathetic thoughts that echo confusion. I deserve(d) so much better.

I wish to live a touch that feels reciprocated and not forced. I wish to not want to control everything in order to feel safe. I wish that I went through all my life did not damage my vision of myself, as a woman. I wish that my teenage self realized that she could trust others. Yes, pushing people away is easier, even when you're constantly smiling, but there's more. I know that now. I wish that I will come to become tender without fearing rejection, someday.

Thank you. 2024, here you are. Show the way. I will lead, obviously.

-Audrey

[fregolicotard]

16.01.2023

“Grief is not an enlightenment program for a select few. No one needs intense, life-changing loss to become who they are “meant” to be. The universe is not causal in that way: you need to become something, so life gives you this horrible experience in order to make it happen. On the contrary: life is call-and-response. Things happen, and we absorb and adapt. We respond to what we experience, and that is neither good nor bad. It simply is. The path forward is integration, not betterment.” [...] “What you build atop this loss might be growth. It might be a gesture toward more beauty, more love, more wholeness. But that is due to your choices, your own alignment with who you are and who you want to be. Not because grief is your one-way ticket to becoming a better person.” Megan Devine - It's OK That You're Not OK

#16of365

[elmundoestahechodefrasesyletras]

Hay que hablar. Hay que mostrar lo invisible. Hay que incomodar a algunos para librarnos a nosotros mismos. Hay que gritar: se vale estar "roto", se vale no ser perfecto, se vale no querer serlo. Está bien estar mal. Está bien tener miedo.

[congliocchiancorablu]

[maudiemoods]

If life is a never ending loop of dirty dishes and laundry then that means life is a never ending loop of home cooked meals and comfy clean clothes

[mroddmod]

the queen of the disco or whatever

[useless-englandfacts]

uk journalists having to report through gritted teeth that there were no riots last night as thousands of anti-racist protesters significantly outnumbered the racist rioters across the country

[wynsvre]

hi this is a comic about me please be nice

[virtualplushy]

ohhhh i get it now. the little seed of loneliness i’ve carried with me since i was five will never go away

[riacte]

not romantic not platonic but a secret third thing [what would happen between earth and the moon if the earth stopped spinning as illustrated by xkcd randall munroe]