Vin The "Sock Account"

lesbian // bisexual

trans // gay

money? yeah, you’re gonna spend it all on useless things like excessive amounts of food and clothes in hope of making yourself feel better. then you’ll regret it five minutes later

 you hate yet love everyone and everything. hate. love. hate. love. it’s a never ending, exhausting cycle of intense emotions. there’s no in between

someone doesn’t respond to your message in ten minutes? it’s time to make dramatic assumptions. do they suddenly hate you? are they dead? 

you’re slightly inconvenienced? it’s time to commit suicide

all your relationships fail and you just can’t seem to figure out why

 you feel like everyone is the same. you see the same pattern over and over again in your relationships and your friends

you feel happy for once? well guess what, in about seven minutes you’ll feel like throwing yourself into traffic because Johnny didn’t want to share his pencil with you

nothing is worse than the overbearing feeling of emptiness that follows you daily and haunts you like a ghost

you’re constantly angry. just the idea of someone breathing in your vicinity is infuriating 

baths? did you mean: self-harm hours? 

everyone is against you including yourself

who is that in the mirror? is that me? Why do I look like that? I can’t recognize myself

 i’m sorry, what did you say? repeat yourself again. and again. sorry, i didn’t hear you. again. repeat yourself for the fifth time, i wasn’t paying attention i guess

you’re useless unless you’re perfect

therapy? no

 oh, is that a character I relate to? let me obsess over them for the next nine months

 you’re the most evil and horrible person you know, yet simultaneously the most pure and naïve person you know

you feel like the devil when you say no to someone

how about I split on my best friend for the eighth time today for absolutely no reason!

am I abusive? am I like my abusers?

 they said something that seemed weird to me… are they going to leave me? Is this the end? Is this all there is? Should I leave them? Maybe I’ll just disappear

you hardly remember anything from before the age of 10

nothing is real. we’re all going to die. nothing matters.

-weight

-appearance

-intelligence (or lack of) 

-skills (or lack of) 

-weird hobbies

-friends (or lack of) 

-body

-personality

-family

On February 5, 1987, Ted had his first panic attack. Although he’d maintained an unperturbed exterior, always in control, always cool and superrational, inside, he apparently was destabilizing after the events of the past year. Until his first death warrant his life at Florida State Prison had been relatively peaceful, especially after he and Carol and Tina had settled into their weekly routine. The disruption caused by the first warrant was only the first tremor of the crumbling of that existence. The TV movie had brought more public attention, hatred, and unavoidable reminders of the crimes he had put out of his mind for six years. The second warrant had made the possibility of execution real to him - and to Carole. Then Carole had left for Seattle, and Ted’s six-year pattern of Saturday visits with his “attentive” family were over. Bad memories were being dredged up from the past as Dr. Norman visited sporadically, spending several hours each time probing Ted’s recollections, his dark side. He was spending time alone with Diana Weiner. He’d always expected to be permitted time to apply for clemency in the Lake City case after cert. was denied. Instead, he had found himself on death watch again, receiving a stay only six hours before his execution was to take place. Then, to top it off, he’d been wrongly placed in disciplinary status upon receiving the stay and deprived of outdoor exercise - his most treasured privilege. The pressure was mounting, his peaceful existence was slowly unraveling. Even the Eleventh Circuit ruling in our favor and remanding the Chi Omega case for further consideration was not necessarily a great comfort to Ted. For him, the mere resolution of a court case - whether in his favor or not - meant that he was that much closer to running out of legal ammunition.