serotonin

2048

control the weather (flash warning)

spend bill gates’ money

read a book

write without distractions

snickerdoodle mug cakes

recipes for when you’re low on spoons

khan academy

an aggressive reminder

1000 awesome everyday things

make a picrew of a worm on a string

bongo cat

useless websites

emergency compliments

a nice uquiz

more useless websites

sketch comedy

sculpt something

guess google searches

white noise

rain

customizable

coffee shop

thunderstorm + fireplace

rain on a tin roof

rain + traffic

train sounds

a fan

catharsis

scream into the void

cut your screen (trigger warning)

break glass

self-care

inexpensive self-care

small acts of self-care

develop a self-care plan

do nothing for two minutes

cope with:

common sleep problems (+solutions)

nightmares

stress

stress 2

are you stressed or depressed?

homework stress

an eating disorder

things to do instead of harming yourself

trauma

anger

worrying

grief

a breakup

the suicide of a loved one

bullying

is this relationship harmful?

sexual assault

obsessive-compulsive disorder

obsessive-compulsive disorder 2

suicidal thoughts

help

a whole bunch of hotlines

more hotlines

suicide hotlines

talk to someone

active positivity blogs

@positivityreblogs

@positivitie

@recoverystuff

@survivor-positivity

@ocdiscourse

@positivelypastelpink

@positiveautistic

@mental–healthawareness

@slfcare

@traumasurvivors

@softheartedsuggestion

remember:

drink some water

eat something if you haven’t in a while

take a break

sleep if you need to

When seeing an empty parking lot, lit by a single street lamp, outside of an abandoned K-Mart or Blockbuster, a person who has often felt like they don’t ‘belong’ in a world full of people may feel the most at home. When wandering into a thrift shop, a person may find that special item from their childhood, the one that glows just a little brighter than everything else in the store and gives them the feeling of tv static on their finger tips.

These are vague and strange feelings, but they make sense when you’ve often found yourself sinking into another daydream on a long train ride late at night or in a green field, on a late summer afternoon.

When a person longs for the embrace of solitude in order to release themselves from the constant performance that is being an ‘everyday person,’ liminal spaces are a genuine relief. There’s no one there except the ghosts of bygone eras to witness you shed the weight of the world off your shoulders, even if it’s for a short time.

the monotonous buzz of fluorescent lights.

the scent of well-turned, damp pages of volumes upon volumes of used books.

the itch of cheaply upholstered chair under your thigh.

the hushed quiet. the turn of page. after page. after page.

the vague feeling…

that you have been here for all eternity.

and you’re never getting out. 

and yet 

you read

you had questions when you entered.

where is the buzzing coming from. why does it smell as though each table has been stained with the scent of a long in-use food court on a damp summer night, the very air tainted with forgotten conversations of a sweaty crowd indoors.

 why does it feel as though each white tile is scraped and maimed with the drag-marks of the tables being mixed and matched–pulled together and dragged apart for each passing wanderer–for years on end.

why is it empty now.

why is it so quiet. just the buzz of the neon lights…