sadfunkymonkey @sadfunkymonkey - Tumblr Blog

if i watch enough wwe and do enough leg days at the gym maybe one day i will not want to kay em ess anymore

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if i die now i can be reincarnated and finally be a child again. i can start over. i can feel small again like nothing ever happened to me. i won’t be expected to grow up. i’ll be cherished, loved, and at peace back in a crib.

#vent #cw: sui ideation #agere

tw: slight gore

i want to rip out my uterus and dump out all your seed onto the ground. hose the organ on the highest water pressure and scrub it on a washboard. then wring it out like a rag until every single trace of you i ever let in is gone

#vent post #breakup #graphicwriting #cw: gore

angel-food-cupcake

I'm a weird type of regressor/dreamer, and it's not very fun due to how isolating it is.

A lot of people in the community sort of have themes to their regression, and mine would be dreamcore and its related content. The thing about it is that it's inherently unsettling, and yet that's what draws me in and gives me some strange sense of comfort. But this means I can't enter most regression spaces and express myself properly, because of how careful you have to be around most regressors with content.

Basically, I'm not typically sensitive to content even when regressed, and my regression is inherently tied to themes like surrealism, uncanniness, disassociation, and the like, while most regressors would be distressed by such themes while in that state. And that makes me a bit of an outcast.

I'm the creepy, weird kid on the playground sitting in the corner all over again.

bleedspink

sugarcoat

-

the walls hum in soft pink. powdered sugar light sticks to my skin like something saccharine trying to smother the rot.

plush carpet muffles my footsteps. every corner is padded— stuffed with velvet animals whose glass eyes never blink. they stare like they know. like they remember.

the scent of artificial strawberries hangs heavy in the air, too sweet, too forced. it clings to my clothes, my hair, my throat. i choke on the nostalgia.

gold bangles clack against my wrists when i cover my ears. sometimes silence is worse than the screaming was. sometimes silence is just another way to listen too hard.

i suck on hard candy until it slices my tongue. grin red. pretend it's cherry.

under my bed— a shoebox full of secrets. crayon drawings, a locket with a stranger’s face, a dress i don’t remember wearing but still can’t throw away.

the mirror reflects someone smaller than she should be. shoulders curved in like parentheses, like she’s trying to fold into the space of someone who never made it past twelve.

i wrap myself in fleece, layers and layers, until the weight quiets the shaking. call it comfort. but it’s really armor stitched in bows and pastel thread.

don’t touch the doorknob. don’t raise your voice. don’t ask. just sit quietly in the pink glow and pretend you’ve always been safe.

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perma-kiddo

Feel like abandoned baby a lot

Jus crying n yelling for hours hoping if m cry just loud enough they’ll hear n come help, but no ones there, no ones coming to help, n m too little to speak or do anything, just forever stuck in my crib begging for someone to finally hear me

screamingdoves

I only regress when the world is too much. My regression is sad every single time. I don't wanna be small and sad. I wanna be small and play with my toys and have fun. But all I do is sit and sob and wish I could be small enough to hold in someone's arms again even tho no one ever did that for me when I cried as a kid.

gblqhdjh7dvc3nlmebe6bvkafvz5j4

bumbling-kiddo

being allowed to lay facedown on the floor and cry and cry and cry and cry and tantrum while a caregiver just rubs my back until i’m all cried out and then scoops me up and tells me we’re okay and gently rocks me back and forth until i fall asleep. and there’s no judgement and nobody gets mad at me for not being cheerful enough and i don’t get in trouble for throwing a fit and they just stay nearby and hold me. i think that would fix me

nsfw blogs dni please!

screamingdoves

Wanna be treated like a little baby who's too small to hear the big scary adult convos and gets given a sweet and ushered off to play with my toys and snuggled and picked up to be carried around and talked down to but in a sweet way and not a rude condescending way and... Anyway been age regressing tonight and it's of course the miserable bad kind again.

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my age regressing is usually ugly to look at, and is done in secret. tonight i hide under my blankets and cradle my childhood stuffed animal, sucking my thumb. i silence a loud wail forming in my throat. i can’t let my parents in the next room know that she’s still here with me. i’m pretending i’m someone i used to be 23 years ago, someone justified in feeling small and vulnerable. i have orphaned this version of me, all my nights with her are just me and her alone. with tears, suffocating plushies, and a thumb sucked swollen red

#vent #sfw agere #age regression

I’m never going to see his mom again, never taste her coffee or wake up to breakfast and a hug and a “Mi Niña”. I’m never going to watch his little sisters grow up and see how much taller they get than me. I never get to talk to his grandma again about how much life she’s lived and how much hope she has for me. I’ve lost so many people in one day.

#breakup

i don’t understand. i’m a good traditional girlfriend. why do i keep getting put with nontraditional men

the children who would’ve had your color eyes and curly hair also died with me that day

you were supposed to be my soulmate. you were supposed to continue loving me. what happened? why can’t I have the you that fell in love with me all those years ago? where did my sweet boy go?

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Anya is live and ready to show you everything. Watch her strip, dance, and perform exclusive shows just for you. Interact in real-time and make your fantasies come true.

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you are about to hear a lot more from me right now you guys. three year relationship ripped right out of my arms like my own flesh and blood child. slay!!!

I can’t believe I’m never going to kiss those deep coffee brown eyes again or hold his head in my hands. I never get to massage his back after a long day, or hear the satisfied rumble in his throat when I scratch his scalp and comb through his curls. I never get to hold his big calloused hands or feel the way they grasp and knead the softest parts of me. I’ll never feel his heavy weight atop me or those big strong arms protect me at night. I’ve watched my shelter get torn away by a self inflicted storm. He was all I had to keep me warm. Now I have nothing.

#breakup

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