Me: I don't get it. I thought I was doing a lot better than I was a few years ago. I'm like 10 times more on top of things than I used to be. How does everything feel terrible now?
The Tiny Me in OSHA-approved Hi-Vis Gear Who lives in my brain and pulls all the levers: Boss, it's the fascism. You're completely gunked up with cortisol due to the fact that your entire daily life is now underscored with a haunting awareness of the rapid erosion of your rights, dignity, and any and all social safety nets, and you're also bearing witness to the most vulnerable people immediately being persecuted. This creates a natural stress response that basically means you're going to continue having memory and organizational problems, as well as emotional imbalances.
Me: BUT I HAVE A BULLET JOURNAL AND I MEDITATE NOW.
Tiny OSHA Me: BOSS, THE FASCISM.
I can be shaped by more than the things that hurt me
Me and the desperation that hits when I can feel my depression getting bad.
Glen Martin Taylor, “but i am safe in here.”
We cannot keep telling disabled and mentally ill people that "maybe someday, if you work really hard, you can become a valuable person." We're valuable NOW. Even if we can't work. Even if we can't study. Even if we need help. Even if we can't provide for ourselves. Even if we struggle. Even if we fail. Our worth is inherent because we're here and we're human and we cannot live a happy life on the hope that maybe someday we can become good enough for society. We're already worthy and valuable as we are and we need y'all to acknowledge that.
the fundamental problem on this website is that if a homeless person tried to talk to most of y’all you’d be scared out of your minds
My bad bro - Parker
Syn • They/Them • Adult • ♓ sun, ♐ moon, ♎ rising. Year of the Earth Snake. INFJ. Mostly reblogs and screaming. Check out my side blog here for DC content and x Reader fanfiction.
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