♥︎ delicate fawn ♥︎

♡ Intro post~

Hi, you may call me Bunny or Fawn~

I am 20+, asexual, agender (She/Her). I have low quality of life; currently lacking the support I need to thrive and feel alive, and am simply giving my thoughts and feelings someplace to be expressed and seen.

I am autistic (level 2), have medium support needs, am adhd, have ocd, c-ptsd, generalized anxiety, and social anxiety (as well as physical disability & a chronic illness but won't list specifically).

I am not seeking advice or reassurance, I am just needing my own space to express many of my true thoughts and feelings. Therefore, a good amount of my posts will be vents, sad, and depressive and I will tag them so they can be filtered out; #vent ♡ #tw vent ♡ #sad thoughts ♡ #depressing quotes ♡ #tw depression ♡ #tw depressing thoughts ♡ #tw sui ideation

All of my posts are my own words/thoughts/poetry/prose, pictures, and moodboards. I sometimes reblog from other blogs.

♡ No DNIs. I simply block what I don't like, and what makes me feel uncomfortable, anxious, or unsafe.

♡ This is my safe space. Just be kind.

credit for dividers @/dollywons

♡ If only I could have been spared this life, this soul. If only no part of me ever existed in the first place.

♡ I feel like part of my life is already decided for me. I feel like I have made choices that I can no longer take back and have to accept and somehow fit into my life and fit into how I see and understand myself. I feel like my life is not fully mine and I feel like I don't even know truly know what I am wanting, that I'd just take anything that comes my way if it means me having an easier life instead of having will, desire, passion gathered together to help me move forward with intent towards things I wish to follow after, experience, achieve. I just don't ever feel like mine.

♡ I know that the internal hardened, rageful, bitter, quick to judge, and cut people off part of me is my protector, doing its best to keep me safe and not become hurt again, but I don't like how hardened I am. My nature has always been so sensitive, soft, caring, gentle, curious, accepting, and understanding (which is what caused me to become hardened because of the cruelty of others), but its been hidden, buried, turned away from the surface, and it's been difficult getting myself back (though I have been making progress lately).

♡ Is it too late for my body to remade again? Can I still fill my self up with warmth, love, comfort, care, and pink? Is it too late for me to believe in having a happy life? Am I too taken by the darkness? Or is the darkness the only way to life?

♡ Sex is pervasive. It would be a violence to my body. Sex is known to be the most intimate form of connection; the way to truly be one with another, to truly know someone, but who says that everyone needs to be known in that way? Who says the core of my soul is known through intercourse? Who says that is the way to truly know and connect to me? Who says my womb isn't the place where I house my trauma and through intercourse my trauma would only be poked and prodded? What if the whole truth of my being exists in my mind? What if it exists in my heart? What if it exists in my womb, but the only way to reach it is to rip me wide open and have my blood seasoned all over your fingers? Why does my body have to be entered at all?

♡ If I could go back in time and change just one thing, it'd be the day she decided to take in and raise my niece who was still a baby at the time, so I wouldn't have to witness and relive my trauma through someone else for years.

♡ Having this space of mine, this blog, is so important because I have been silenced and silent all of my life.

♡ I hate doing favors for others. It just costs too much when I can't even take care of myself.

♡ I want nothing to be asked of me.

♡ In truth, I hate the "family" that I was born into. I look forward to the day I don't have to be around them at all or communicate with them. Being biological family means absolutely nothing to me. I am not someone who is still going to love another when they are the fault, the source, of my trauma. Nope, I do not love you, in fact, I tolerate you to make living with you easier. But I resent you, I hate you, you deserve nothing from me; not care, especially not love, not my vulnerability, not my words, nothing.

♡ I don't understand the workings of this world. I don't understand the supposed necessity of unnecessary suffering. I don't understand the immense lack of harmony between Earth and its human bodies.

I don't understand how a home as natural as Earth can withstand to witness and perhaps even encourage endless dropped bodies and bloodshed.

It's almost as if death of the darkest kinds are necessary for continuous nourishment because what doesn't kill all of us keeps us "strong" and going, right? Because "rot is the womb of life", yes?

I suppose the problem is that I keep looking for love and care in an absolvent world that forsaken all of its creations, from birth, in favor of endless survival and cruelty. That I have yet to accept the nature of this place where I have never belonged.

♡ I wonder if the human body is inherently made to withstand endless harm and suffering because it is just the requirement of this world; because of how much suffering I have endured against my will. My jaw remains clenched, my internal blueprint is bruised black, my blood is sour, and my bones don't grow back anymore.

♡ Sometimes I remember all of the harm that has been done to me throughout my life and it becomes so utterly suffocating; just the insurmountable pain my body carries within me that I have no idea what to do with. It leaves me feeling incredibly sad and fulfilled with grief, but it also enrages me because I don't deserve this, I don't deserve any of this.

♡ Today is another day where I feel I am not supposed to be awake. I have been having these kinds of days much more this year, where I should have stayed in bed much longer because my body wasn't actually ready to get out of bed yet. I should have also taken the time to stretch my body to wake it up fully and to help ease me into wakeness, though there are some days the stretching doesn't help.

It just feels like endless whiplash as I move through the day even though I only remain in the house with the same routine and same conversations daily. The same desire to remain hidden; not perceived, not interacted with, not made to communicate in any kind of way. I feel that I am truly in my mind, not my body today, and I never fully feel in my body either even on better days. Perhaps I should just sleep once I can lay down (have to wait three full hours since I ate a big meal. Laying down any sooner makes my stomach feel uncomfortable).

This brings me to continue realizing my astonishment with how people can just get out of bed each day and can move about and communicate without needing to take hours for themselves. Everything is draining to me, it has always been. I just now only feel the affect of everything being draining because of the immense, worsened (autistic) burnout I am in.

A part of me does wish I could be one of those people though. I wish my pace wasn't so slow. I wish I wasn't left behind in my own days and life. I wish I could just be healthy in all ways and just thrive in life. I wish I wasn't this disabled. I don't mind being autistic, because well, I do enjoy being myself for the most part as I have been uncovering how I really am, but I wish I always had the support I needed, and I wish I currently had it too.