Heavy is the Head

"Belay on" is a command in rock climbing used by the belayer to tell the climber they are ready to manage the rope and ensure their safety. It is the response to the climber's question, "On belay?" and signals that the belayer has checked the rope and equipment and is ready for the climber to begin

First and foremost I am not a rock climber, lmao I live in mantras and metaphors so my brain can rationalize and bridge connections between knowing and applying techniques, rationales, and mindfulness.

I have a metaphor that dealing with one's mental health is much like climbing a mountain naked. Just gritting teeth, bare foot and bare knuckling while trying to over come challenges and summits. Kind of a play on the whole mountain versus mole hill thing--because everyone has something they can and cannot deal with, just like people have mountains that are easier and harder to climb than others. So, as someone who has lived a couple lives while actively trying to repair herself, if you need somewhere safe to climb, I will be "on belay" for you.

This is a side blog to my NSFW main I've come to feel I need a slight bit of separation from my mental health journey and my day to day walk through slutsville. I am most definitely in a mental state of driven by my ID and my libido, so my normal state of existing is in a viciously achy state of want, however, I do feel multiple things, at the same time, and with a vengeance. So while I'm in that state of mind, I'm also in a constant surge of self loathing...while also knowing my worth and being arrogant about it...while also being equally as pessimistic as i am optimistic...

See why I need a little separation? 😅 I have ADHD. So object permeance is…mmmm a little iffy lol, so a lot of the time I can write something and usually totally forget that I was the one who wrote it. So perhaps I can come back here and read something of mine and it'll help me in a different way than when I originally wrote it. Or maybe someone's working through something and they don't have the social capital to help them. By helping them, perhaps I can help myself, and so on and so forth. I also have like...a lot of thoughts running simultaneously, and I'd like to put them somewhere that isn't the notes section of my phone to die.

🚨I am not a medical or psychological professional🚨 Perhaps I can help someone, perhaps someone can help me? I believe that anything in life can be solved by a simple conversation as long as both parties are willing to legitimately participate. Often times that's accepting where we might be off the mark, where we may not fully understand, or perhaps the way we're feeding others information may actually be our skewed look on an issue. This all being said, and my willingness to exchange thoughts, techniques, and sometimes just opinions that can be rooted in either fact, or experience, or both, means that I too can and will miss the mark. Me telling you to consider something, and your doctor telling you to do something are two vastly different things. Please, adhere to your physician before considering anything I say to be gospel. I am not responsible for you, your emotions, the things happening in your life. You have to choose to engage your own existence, and I am nothing but a thing that exists within that

How little it matters

How little I matter 😂😂

Like what did I expect

I’m a word on a screen

A voice on a phone

I’m not fucking real????

When did I ever think I was going to be real????

It’s amazing how easy it is for me to be forgotten so god damn quickly….

I have fucked up and I thought I was empty, but I’m not. If anything I’m over flowing and idk what to do

Because 1 is too much and also too few. I feel like I’m going to explode

Tell me again what your heart says when I’m around

What your mind see when I’m not

What happens to you in rooms that I’m not in but you feel my presence even still, thick like a second skin that fits just right but makes you cozier than before

What I think, feel, and know are all three completely different things

Different compartments so I am able to clearly navigate

But how’re you emulsifying them…combining these compartments. How’re you taking something I’ve molded for decades and infusing yourself in them so fluidly, so fluently, so effortlessly

How are you making me, the one who feels everything, all the time, everywhere, and making her feel more

What happens when they keep talking to you like you're not shaking, or your eyes don't have dark circles, or your skin isn't pale and patchy? What happens when you stutter and stammer, and tears won't stop welling and your eyes are raw and red rimmed? What happens when the corners of your nails keep bleeding in front of everyone, and you can't pick up a simple piece of paper because your nails are too short?

What do you do when they give you a hug and you want to give it back in earnest but you can't because if you do you won't let them go and that's not right, they're not yours.

I just want to be held and finally feel like i'm worth something to someone. That i'm not the one reaching and reaching and reaching for something that's out of my way, out of my grip, out of my league. What do you do when the delusion was so nice that you didn't realize how much of it you made your day to day life

don't say you love me, please, because I want to believe you, but I cant, I can't believe that love exists for someone like me from someone like you because you deserve the world in a box with a blue bow and your favorite book. Because you deserve someone to kiss you like they mean it, hold your face and make you unaware of life around you. I want to be the one you compare everything to and be told how they don't measure up and why. I don't want to be owned, I don't want to own. No, sickeningly, I just want to be the thing you can't get enough of, the person you can't stop thinking of, the drug you can't stop doing.

Alright, deal with it, cry about it, write about it, knock it off, because it's not what you're acting like it is....

you're fine....you own no one and nothing, and it's disrespectful and gross to believe your opinion matters at all here

Like...after the 25th I was supposed to stop experiencing such heart ache all the time...but no....

Like it’s not that I don’t feel love, it feels like I want to give an immense amount of love to everyone. I don’t need asome moniker to define that someone is special to me and that I care for them deeply. Like…I’ll tell you your special because I genuinely mean it…if I say the same thing to someone else I still genuinely mean it?

Why is the idea of being the center of someone’s universe the most appealing social concept??

I know the conventional answers but they’re not good enough for me anymore. Like I saw a post today that said “not every butch needs to be your potential partner” and I agree with it, but why is sex so sacred yet treated in so much vain.