Ecclesiastes 7:2

You see a post like this? Where OP might hurt/kill themselves? You hit that button that I circled

Hit that.

Click Suicide or Self-harm Concern

Yes.

Fill in the rest of it, and hit submit. The "content you reported" will fill itself in

Tumblr will follow up and help them.

Warning: this is only for mobile. If anyone knows how to do this for desktop, please add it!

This could SAVE SOMEONE'S LIFE.

YOU HAVE NO EXCUSE NOT TO REBLOG THIS.

I DON'T GIVE A FUCK IF IT DOESN'T GO WITH YOUR BLOG'S THEME.

And yes, REBLOG. Liking does no shit at all. This isn't ig.

You reblog, people see it. You don't, people don't see it. This shit's that simple.

This could legitimately do so.

St. Joseph of Cupertino: The Gravity of Grace In the long catalogue of Christian mystics, St. Joseph of Cupertino occupies a peculiar orbit—one defined not by theological brilliance or ecclesial influence, but by a radical simplicity that made him both an object of ridicule and a vessel of wonder. Born in 1603 in the small Apulian town of Cupertino, Joseph entered the world with none of the advantages that typically accompany sanctity in the historical imagination. He was sickly, awkward, distractible, and—by the accounts of his contemporaries—spectacularly unsuited for the intellectual demands of religious life. And yet, paradoxically, it was precisely this lack of worldly aptitude that opened him to a form of grace that defied the laws of nature.

Joseph’s life is a study in the theology of inversion. Everything that should have disqualified him became the very material of his sanctity. His inability to concentrate became a radical openness. His social clumsiness became a kind of holy transparency. His poverty of intellect became a space where something other could act. In a religious culture that prized scholastic mastery, Joseph was a living contradiction: a man who could barely pass his examinations yet would later be known as the “Flying Saint.”

The levitations—those infamous episodes that made him a subject of both devotion and suspicion—were not theatrical displays but eruptions of ecstatic absorption. Witnesses described him rising from the ground during Mass, during prayer, even at the mere mention of God. These were not gentle ascents but sudden, involuntary flights, as if gravity itself had momentarily forgotten him. The Church, ever cautious, investigated him repeatedly, wary of deception or diabolic interference. But Joseph himself never claimed power; he claimed only weakness. He insisted that he was drawn upward, seized by something greater than himself.

What makes Joseph compelling is not the spectacle of levitation but the psychological and spiritual terrain beneath it. His ecstasies were inseparable from his humiliations. Before he became a saint, he was a burden—dismissed by employers, mocked by peers, nearly rejected by every religious order he approached. His sanctity was forged in the crucible of being perpetually misunderstood. In this sense, Joseph becomes a kind of archetype: the holy fool, the idiot-saint, the one whose very lack becomes a portal.

There is also a deeper metaphysics at play. Joseph’s life suggests that the boundary between body and spirit is not fixed but porous, that the human form can become strangely buoyant when seized by love or awe. His levitations are not merely supernatural anecdotes; they are metaphors for the human condition. We are creatures caught between weight and weightlessness, between the heaviness of our limitations and the strange, unbidden moments when something lifts us beyond ourselves.

Joseph’s sanctity was not triumphal but tender. He did not conquer the world; he surrendered to it. He did not master doctrine; he embodied devotion. His life is a reminder that the sacred often chooses unlikely vessels, and that the most profound transformations occur not through strength but through vulnerability.

I have stopped believing in god. I have stopped believing at all.

I tried to be a good daughter and a good Catholic, I ignored my instincts and desires and trusted everyone around me who claimed to love me and claimed to know what's best for me for years because I did not want to be called selfish and self centered.

God still allowed me to go through hell and sexual trauma I do not think I deserved. Now I'm pregnant. I hate it. I hate the child. I hate myself and who I've become because of all this. I hate everything.

When I was suicidal in the past, people used to tell me it will get better in the future.

I'm 31, it has only gotten worse.

I think I'm better off dead. Not killing myself at 25 was a mistake.

Saint Joseph of Cupertino

1603-1663

Feast Day: September 18

Saint Joseph of Cupertino had a miserable childhood because he lacked many basic natural abilities, even his mother treated him harshly. Through humble mortification and obedience, he rose to a deep union with God. The Capuchins reluctantly accepted him to the diaconate/priesthood after he answered the one and only question that he knew, by the Bishop examiner. After this, his ecstasies, miracles, and levitations increased just by talking about God or spiritual matters. He was called the ”Flying Friar” and was always humble and cheerful. The last 10 years were spent in forced seclusion because he unintentionally caused distractions and misunderstandings in his community.

Suitors: