I just had my first “can I speak to your manager” encounter and it was absolutely magical.
Middle aged white women are my least favorite people to deal with, especially when they realized they fucked up and want to take our their embarrassment on my me. Sorry you don’t know how to read giant red letters ma’am, have a nice day ma’am.
Edit: Monster woman’s husband called back to apologize for his wife being a monster. Sweet justice.
Unfriendly reminder that in America it’s reasonable to say an unarmed black kid deserved to be shot six times because he might have robbed a convenience store, but a white kid shouldn’t be kicked off the high school football team just because he violently raped a girl.
Getting off my birth control and all my medication has been fucking hellish.
Today one bad thing made me start crying like crazy, and then another thing happened, and then another, and then a miscommunication happened and I’ve been a fucking mess all day to the point where I can’t leave my room because when I do fucking thing triggers it and I’m scared to even talk to anyone.
I’ve been doing so fucking well. And I feel this way for absolutely no reason. Things are relatively good.
Fuck the American “healthcare” system and fuck the inherent sexism that made this is even an issue.
When I heard about Robin William’s passing, I was saddened by it in a way I didn’t really understand. His advice rang thru my head as if it was personal, as if it wasn’t on a television screen. I thought, “well I never had much of a dad growing up. In some ways he was like a father.” And that felt really strange and did not sit well with me and I tried to get it out of my head. But as I’ve read around the internet, I wasn’t the only one who felt this way. Many of us looked at his characters as a strange father figure we never had. As someone who’s suffered from mental illness and hospitals and medications, it hit a little too close to home. It always does when you admire someone’s strength to see it wasn’t enough for them. It’s scary and shakes you because you can only hope yours will be enough for you.
I know everything that can be said has been said, and I know it’s silly and strange and a bit childish. But from Garp, to Peter, to Mr. Keating, to Sean Maguire, I’ll have memories and advice that genuinely did influence the way I love and live, and I’m grateful to have that.
To anyone dealing with mental illness and/or thinking of suicide, do not hesitate to get help. I see a lot of people saying, “talk to a loved one,” and while it may help and is good intentioned, I’ve found it worrisome. People are flawed. People without mental illness may have trouble understanding what you are going thru or knowing what to say. People with mental illness may be having trouble in their own battles or not able to appropriately give you the help you need. While talking to someone is good, do not hesitate to talk to a doctor or call a helpline. To find a therapist you like. To try medications. To even admit yourself into a hospital, just for a bit to ground yourself, for whatever you need. There is no shame in any of it.
I am always here to talk and to try to give advice. To listen and to share experiences. To assure you the doctors aren’t so scary and the pills aren’t so bad. Please be safe out there.
“i’m not interested in being easy on the eyes
i want them to flinch, think twice before they reach out their callous hands to bruise.
i want to be a constant reminder to men that not everything is theirs for the taking.”—fabiola - for girls who aren’t interested in being easy on the eyes (via roserosetyler)