what do people even DO you know like what is there to even DO

everything is either too boring or too exhausting there’s no in between

i think learning to sob silently and clean yourself up quickly should be considered fine art

being a hypersexual maladaptive daydreamer and all you daydream about is sex

has the past year actually been real or have i just dissociated through everything

i think one of the biggest sources of insecurity that comes with mental illness is the knowledge that your emotions aren’t always representative of where you’re at. of course they’re still valid, but you still know like, hey, i would’ve reacted to this totally differently had i not been depressed/manic/in a mixed mood/psychotic ep or my perception of the event itself wasn’t totally realistic etc. and it’s so much harder to build a self concept because… well which part is me? which part is the illness? people say “you’re not your illness!” but who am i then?

nothing is sexier than someone who can swallow their pride and speak their true feelings for you. I love that shit fr.