partially-managed mental illness is so fucking funny i'll be sitting around doing my job and suddenly think "wow i hate myself" and immediately get confused because, like, that's not TRUE! i love myself so much. who are you to talk to me like that

I wish I could go to a doctor and just list every single symptom I ever experienced no matter how small and unconnected they seem and the doctor is nice and patient and knows everything and they nod and smile and explain that every symptom I ever experienced is connected to like one rare and often overlooked issue that's sooooo easy to fix with like. a pill. and then I never have to worry about anything ever again.

still living with my parents as an adult is just like. i'm grateful to not have to pay for groceries. i have to get out of here. i'm grateful to have a roof over my head and not have to pay rent. i have to get out of here. i'm grateful to not have to worry about sending out endless job applications that all lead to nowhere. i have to get out of here. i'm grateful i'm grateful i'm so fucking grateful. i have to get out of here

i would like to officially thank sesame for its seeds, its oil, and of course its street

ever since i was a little girl i knew i wanted to deny location sharing and turn off personalized ads and reject all non-essential cookies and not set up siri and face ID

in the tags, what was your top song, top album and top artist on your 2025 spotify wrapped?

my most toxic trait is i fucking love work gossip. i play neutral not to be the bigger person or take the high road but to hear slander and hearsay from every side. two coworkers complained about each other to me in the same afternoon and i nearly blacked out from the rush

all i do anymore is have a cut on my finger

any shit resonates with you people

"I want molly" "I want percs" well you're getting leeches