#recovering

[notasoupcompany]

[recoversuggestions]

you can have a fresh start anytime. you can start again every day. every hour if you need! you’re allowed to put the past behind you. 

[sprucebluw]

Five from umbrella academy. So sad this show only had three seasons 😔

[theaddictspoetry]

Grief is weird I think of you every day, Some days I smile. some days I cry. some days I just drown, drown in the could have beens, should have beens, the unknown. the unknown- is what truly kills us. this wasn't supposed to be this way, i'll spend forever trying to find out why you're not here anymore.

@theaddictspoetry

[almosthealedd]

Be with someone who shows you that they are not afraid to fight FOR YOU & fight WITH you..

Be with someone who is proud to love you OUT LOUD not in silence..

[blushweddinggowns]

Steddie Drunk Dialing Fluff

Steve Harrington-Munson was probably one of the happiest men to be alive in the modern era. He had the perfect life, against all odds. Because apparently having your late teens and early twenties ruined by demons equated to a fantastic adulthood.

He had it all. A loving family, the best friend/surrogate sister he could ever ask for, and he was married to the love of his life. And okay, yes. That had included some extremely embarrassing revelations and internal meltdowns and... a pretty brutal disownment. But he had figured it all out in the end. And here he was, a decade later with a ring on his finger and a nice hyphenated name. Not to mention how he was basically a trophy husband.

Eddie hadn't wasted a moment of the last decade. A symptom of almost dying it would seem. He went for the GED, gathered the band back up, moved across the country to chase his dreams and play in every shitty dive bar he could until they were discovered. All while dragging Steve along for the ride.

As much as Steve had believed in him, neither of them had been prepared for his music career actually taking off. Especially not to the level it did. It was undeniable that his husband was an A-Lister, despite how universally hated he was by half the country. You don't get many out and proud metal front man who loved parading around his high school sweetheart at every social event he could. But Europe loved him, as did the entirety of gay, rebellious youths world wide.

It was so stupid. There Eddie was, painted as an insane freak who was fake-married. With tabloids running story after story about his secret children, his drug addiction, a wife from another country, anything that they could think of. All while Eddie spent every free moment at Steve's side, always opting for a night in with his baby when given the choice. And when he wasn't doing that, he was busy playing surrogate fun uncle to the kids, who were definitly not kids anymore. But that didn't stop them from all getting together for Dungeons and Dragons once a month, hundreds and hundreds of campaign hours on everyone's belts. And that was his life. Spending time with his family, forcing them on hikes and runs, volunteering, working occasionally to help Robin with her translating work, all while coming home to the sweetest thing that ever existed.

God, did Steve love that man. Reminiscing about the love of his life while he was on tour was not helping his fretful sleep. He just... really had given him everything. He loved him so much in fact that he was only slightly pissed when he was woken up at three a.m. from the phone ringing off the hook.

Steve reached for it blindly, still half-asleep when he mumbled, "Mm-Eds?"

"Steeeeeeeeeevie," Eddie's voice slurred back at him, "Baby booooy. How's my baby boy? I miss my baby boy."

Steve smiled despite himself, yawning into the phone. Eddie was lucky he was so cute, considering how the love of his life who could not remember what time zones were, "He misses you too. And he's a little tired right now babe. What's up?"

"Day drunk," Eddie sighed, "Guys, morning show, mimosas, hotel room to sleep it off. Missing you."

"You won't be missing me for long," Steve softly laughed. Though... hearing his voice was quite the reminder of how cold the bed suddenly felt, "Just... one more week. That's not too long right?"

"Too long!" Eddie groaned, dramatic, "I miss you now. Why can't I see you now? Wait-Can I see you now? Cause planes and trains and-"

"And no," Steve interrupted with a chuckle, "You'd only get me for a few hours before you'd have to leave again."

"Worth it," Eddie mumbled out, his voice a little muffled as he tumbled around in his hotel bed, "Want my baby."

The pathetic tilt to his voice was enough to make Steve's heart clench. God he was too precious. Suddenly a red-eye in the middle of the night for a two hour make-out session didn't sound like such a bad idea. But he could be the strong one for tonight, "You have me sweetheart. Want me to stay on until you fall asleep."

"Yes please," Eddie sighed, "Love your voice. It's so... nice. Like... audible perfume. Like poetry or something."

"Oh baby you are wasted," Steve said as he laid back down, nestling the phone to his ear, "Please tell me you drank some water before laying down?"

"... maybe?"

"Babe."

"I knoooow. Keep nagging me though. I missed that too."

"Is my bitching your bed time story?"

He could hear Eddie nodding, rusting against the fabric, "And it's the best. Keep going?"

Steve rolled his eyes, but he did what he was asked. Saying every silly little grievance he could think of. He whined about how cold it was in bed without him, how Eddie had promised to take out the trash before he left and forgot. Again. How he hated how quiet it was without him, how much he missed hearing his voice trailing in and out of every room.

And Eddie listened, mumbling out a few sleepy m'sorrys and I love yous along the way. Until all Steve could hear was the slow, steady sound of his breathing. But he didn't hang up. Not when that was one of his favorite sounds in the world. And the perfect thing to fall asleep to.

Steve smiled to himself as he closed his eyes, a little amazed that Eddie could still make him feel so loved, from hundreds of miles away.

But one thing was for sure. He still had to be the happiest man on earth.

[xxx-ang3l-w1th-a-sh0tgun-xxx]

mental health recovery userboxes 🫶❤️‍🩹🫂

[text: this user is in SH recovery, this user is in mental health recovery, this user is recovering, this user is in ED recovery]

feel free to reblog/download and use on your profile but keep my username visible ty! :)

[asking-jude]

Do you want free mental help? What about remote, pay-what-you-want counselling? Visit askingjude.org.

[rosymiel]

[tiramegtoons]

[recoversuggestions]

the hardest part about getting better isn’t finding yourself, it’s convincing yourself you want to be found.

[lebenstripper]

Ich gehöre hier nicht her.

Das wusste ich schon als Kind.

Ich gehöre nicht hier her.

[ididoktoday]

How we get better: a decidedly nonlinear and varied process

Maybe that suffering will slough off us like a crispy sunburn, peeling away gradually in its own time, protesting a timeline faster than its own intention. But slough it will.

Maybe that suffering will cling to us until the last second it’s allowed, like a sucking leech, our humors leaking messily and causing a real scene, relief and vulnerability entwined to tease apart later. But we’ll have time and headspace to do that work.

Maybe that suffering will be ripped off us like a warm blanket on an early winter morning, snatched away by a guiding figure who knows that what we need is more important than what we want, a figure who sighs down with love at our shivering legs. That figure knows a warm future for us that our eyes are not yet mature enough to see.

We are birthed in all sorts of ways. Let us treat each other as gently as newborns.

[unwelcome-ozian]