I'm Really Fucking Tired Of Watching My Husband Suffer So Much Because I'm So Sick. I Feel Like People

The deep ache in my chest when I hear that family members who claim to love me are traveling to visit my trafficker (mom).

The degree to which I wish she would just fucking die already.

on friends and soulmates and that type of love that feels like it's going to burst right out of your heart

@/zmije / @/leptodiera / @/bichopalo / lyrics from two best friends by bb bean / animatedjames on youtube / @/killingmyselfbutnotdying / unknown / @/sadiekane / friedrich neitzsche / katfish draws / @/elytrians / @/wormbus-art aka @/angel-pond / @/mushysuggestion / the unsent project / mhairi mcfarlane / unknown

Hey y'all. Healing is possible. It's hard and it takes years. There are things you may not be able to fully heal and there are things you will let go of quickly. It's okay. There is no timeline for healing.

the world would literally be a better place if cis people could just get trans surgeries "by mistake" rather than forcing trans people to jump through ten million hoops to get it.

Liz Fosslien

TW self harm, alcohol

I got home and fucking cut my foot and got drunk and now I'm just laying here with a paper towel inside my sock, feeling so fucking much better. I feel bad because I plan to lie to my husband if he asks about my foot, but not bad enough to not do it I guess. I don't want him to know so I'm not telling anyone irl.

I'm just. I'm so tired and it's been a bad, triggering af day, and this is what I've chosen to do about it. I'm in my fucking thirties and I'm still acting like a fucking dumbass.

I don't want to be alone right now but my husband isn't going to be home for hours and nobody is answering the phone and. Idk.

I'm just here. Trying to stay alive. Trying to convince myself to stay alive.

able-bodied ppl please get your shit together. i’m tired of having to remind y’all every other second that, yes, ambulatory wheelchair users do in fact exist.

Have I told y’all about my husband’s Fork Theory?  If I did already, pretend I didn’t, I’m an old.

So the Spoon Theory is a fundamental metaphor used often in the chronic pain/chronic illness communities to explain to non-spoonies why life is harder for them. It’s super useful and we use that all the time. But it has a corollary.  You know the phrase, “Stick a fork in me, I’m done,” right? Well, Fork Theory is that one has a Fork Limit, that is, you can probably cope okay with one fork stuck in you, maybe two or three, but at some point you will lose your shit if one more fork happens.  A fork could range from being hungry or having to pee to getting a new bill or a new diagnosis of illness. There are lots of different sizes of forks, and volume vs. quantity means that the fork limit is not absolute. I might be able to deal with 20 tiny little escargot fork annoyances, such as a hangnail or slightly suboptimal pants, but not even one “you poked my trigger on purpose because you think it’s fun to see me melt down” pitchfork.

This is super relevant for neurodivergent folk. Like, you might be able to deal with your feet being cold or a tag, but not both. Hubby describes the situation as “It may seem weird that I just get up and leave the conversation to go to the bathroom, but you just dumped a new financial burden on me and I already had to pee, and going to the bathroom is the fork I can get rid of the fastest.”

For no reason here is a library story