Emotional Processing Is So Funny Because Sometimes You’ll Be Violently Sobbing On Your Bedroom Floor

I have therapy tomorrow, and my homework was to write, so... Hobey ho, let's go.

I'm fucking tired because my second father in law just died in a fucking stupid, traumatic, idiotic way. When my husband brought me into this family thirteen years ago, I gained three father figures. His dad, his stepdad, and one of his uncles. I was so lucky to have them in my life. But they're all fucking dead now. Cancer, cancer, and now an accident.

And I'm just. So fucking tired. My own father, after hearing about this, drunk dialed me three separate times while my father in law was on life support and sent me $500. Like, I appreciate the money. But could I have a hug? Could you tell me you love me when you're sober? Could you fucking try to fucking BE HERE? Could you try, at all. I want your attention. I want you to want me in your life. I want you to care about what's happening in mine. But you fucking don't and it's exhausting to keep wanting.

And then I have these three men that care and support me and protect me and every single one of them fucking dies within a few years of each other. And it's FUCKING STUPID. It's stupid they're dead. It's stupid I loved them so much. It's stupid that my mother is still alive when these good people are gone.

I'm fucking tired. I'm just so tired. I haven't been tired like this since I was in high school, living with my mother, being sex trafficked to pay the fucking mortgage.

I can't bring myself to feel anything beyond tired. I just want somebody to come take care of me, which is embarrassing, because I'm 31 fucking years old, but you know what? Nobody ever fucking took care of me. Nobody. And then when I was 19, I got a partner and his family and they loved me and taught me how to be loved and now they KEEP FUCKING DYING ON ME and I'm pissed. I'm pissed and tired and I want it to stop.

my number one woman behavior is saying i’m fine with any pronouns and silently ranking people in my regard based on what they do with that information

I have this advance reader copy of a book I'm reviewing and the writing is awesome in general, the story is great, but They Be Fucking™ every damn chapter. the sex they're having is mid at best (and dv/sa at worst). I am le tired. Signed up for romantasy and got served borderline erotica instead. 🫠

it’s okay to do things that make your symptoms worse (as long as you’ll stay safe)

every once in a while you need to eat something yummy. or go on a walk. or a trip to the zoo. take a hot shower. cry your eyes out. dance. listen to music. draw for way to long. write. laugh. sit in a cafe with a friend. paint your nails. dye your hair. go on a run. pet a cat

sometimes you need to do things that are cathartic or make yourself feel alive. sometimes you need the reminder of why you’re fighting so hard to stay alive

this is your reminder that just because it makes your symptoms worse, it isn’t always the wrong thing to do. there can be value in these actions

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.

Somewhere, in a dump probably, is twenty year old tape with my skin cells and hair and blood on it, and it fucking drives me crazy that as a teenager, I was convinced there was no proof.

Somebody shared the following today saying: "I found this video on tiktok and it explains m.e so well" and "I saw it and thought to myself I relate so much" Here's the TikTok link: https://www.tiktok.com/@jeremyandrewdavis/video/7135061608316833070

Something I haven't seen spoken about a lot is the psychological impact of being chronically ill and experiencing horrific symptoms, and knowing that literally no one can help you.

I could call a doctor, but I already know what's wrong. There's literally nothing they can do for me. And I can't afford to go just for reassurance.

I'm just in a flare and sometimes it's Like This. And you just have to swallow symptoms that live in the nightmares of well people, because you can't just have an emotional breakdown every time you're in a flare.

So I'm in horrible pain and distress, and I can't call for help, because no one can help me, and I have to act like it's fine, so I don't worry other people who get Very Upset that I can't just Fix It

And there's just a deep psychological burden in that, that I don't think well and able bodied people ever really think about.