My Mosaic Tile💗💜💙

for someone who loves sleep, i do not sleep enough at all

I know you’re sad, so I won’t tell you to have a good day. Instead, I advise you to simply have a day. Stay alive, feed yourself well, wear comfortable clothes, and don’t give up on yourself just yet. It’ll get better. Until then, have a day.

I hope Black girls with anxiety have a good day today.

I hope Black girls with depression have a good day today.

I hope black girls with PTSD have a good day

I hope black girls with body dysmorphia have a good day

I hope black girls with verbally abusive parents gave a good day

I hope autistic black girls and black girls with ADHD have a good day

I hope black girls with schizospec and/or personality disoders have a good day today

i hope all mentally ill and or disabled black girls have a good day

I hope chronically ill & people pleasing Black girls have a good day today 🫂

my mom’s trans allyship is on another level

she once called my friend’s deadname “that stupid thing his mom calls him”

Your life is about to take a beautiful turn.

this is really interesting in how it frames disability/low spoons/etc as not being a series of internal symptoms, but specifically a situation in which daily tasks increase in complexity. for example i used to be able to wash the dishes normally. but now mental and physical issues combine to make that situation have a lot of prequalifications (do I have time, energy, how long can I do it without being sore the next day) that means many more steps are involved in getting that single physical act of washing a dish to be done.

I’m trying to remember the quote. “On a good day, doing laundry is three steps. On a bad day, the first step is getting out of bed.”

undiagnosing myself. there is nothing wrong with me i am #normal

I made a book playlist, designed a cover, imagined the ending scene, and rambled about my story idea to all my friends, but somehow the word count is still at 0???

*grabbing you by the shoulders and shaking you* don’t EVER say it’s so over. it’s not over. There’s hope. It’s not over for the flowers that get paved over because they grow through the cracks in the concrete, stronger than ever. It’s not over for the moths on a soot-blackened tree because they will grow black wings and evade predators faster than ever. It’s not over for the tree that gets chopped down because it will survive off nutrients from its root neighbors and keep holding on. It’s not over because it’s hard. There’s hope. There’s hope. There’s hope.

in my defense I used to be worse

[image description: a still of chidi from the good place. he’s saying, “we’ve been through some version of this 800 different times.” end id]

there should be a cool, chill way to say things like “I’m struggling” or “I’m having a hard time” that doesn’t imply you might have needs

learning how to garden and grow plants is so difficult, because if you can’t do it right from the beginning (which we can’t), then you’re going to kill plants and that’s sad and I feel like giving up rather than learning more and risking more accidental plant-killings….