Emotions - Blog Posts

Today the weather was gloomy

And for the first time in a while my mood did not reflect that

Which showed me that the weather can be gloomy and I don't have to be sad about it

Just like my emotions, when the sadness washes over I can be okay with it and let it be

[details]

I Do Not Know My Own Heart

I do not know my own heart, it betrays my mind. I feel torment.

Am I to chase happiness and rise or to settle for what is safe?

Will I cry out in joy or am I to lament?

A chance once again.

Dugout

A chance once again.

I know it is not possible anyway However if a fairy give me a wish one day I will request her to send me in my childhood days I know most of

A part of life I wanted to relive.

I feel sad sometimes, for no apparent reason and when people ask me why I'm sad, I get angry. Not because they frustrate me but because I don't have an answer. I don't know why I get sad, why my heart starts longing for things I no longer have, why I constantly want things that may not want me, why I wished I could go back in time to a specific moment... Then, there's always this thought that by altering one moment in the past, you could possibly change the entirety of the future. And what if that future turned into something far worse than all that I've been through, what if it brings more pain and sadness than everything I have already been wounded by? What if it resumes from where I've undone, then I'd have to painstakingly go through every moment and try to be better than before but I might just make it all worse. What if I try to undo one by pushing another force into momentum that takes refuge in my life, one I most likely may not endure? So I sit there sadly, sometimes angry, but silently, contemplating all that could have been, all that would be and all that I'll never be able to undo but just live with. I'm sad and sometimes I cannot explain it...

© Raina Rose.

There is a silence in me these days. The voice I once used to hear on repeat has ceased to exist. She seems to have disappeared. I don't know if I miss her but there is a void where she used to be. I can't specify what it is exactly that I've lost but I've gained something else in return, silence.

© Raina Rose.

My thoughts are deep

My memories shallow

My intellect curios and hyperactive

My Ego fragile, attached and rigid...

I feel too much

Yet I don't feel enough.

So you can see the problem

With asking me what I think.

Don't show me the illusion you call love

Show me the daggers you're hiding behind your back.

Don't tell me your sugary lies of trust and friendship

Tell me the truth you're hiding down your throat.

This user is hella sensitive

Requested by: @fxwnberry

The feelings wheel is a fantastic tool to use for many occasions. Both writing and noticing your own feelings are my top uses. I greatly recommend it.

Feelings Wheel

This is the feelings wheel by Geoffrey Roberts, shown to me by my therapist. My initial thought was, "what amazing synonyms to use for diverse emotional vocabulary!"

More than that, this wheel is great for understanding your characters inner motivations and reactions to situations. For example, if a character constantly feels helpless, then their overarching characteristics will be that they are fearful.

Characters who are less emotionally aware may use words and act in the inner most circle. Those much more aware of their emotions may describe themselves or express and use words from the outer most circle.

Hopefully you guys find this as helpful as I did! Let me know down in the comments.

Happy Writing!

Special night shared with special people.Love,happiness and abundance to all ❤️😌

Victor Hugo disait: "Aimer c'est savoir dire je t'aime sans parler". Pour lui, l'amour ne se limite pas à des déclarations verbales ou à des paroles explicites il réside dans les gestes, les regards, les silences partagés et les émotions qui parlent d'elles-mêmes.

Je ne suis pas insensible à la douleur comme tu le penses, j’ai appris à la maîtriser. Je ne suis pas sans émotions comme tu le penses, j’ai appris à les évacuer rapidement. Je n’ai pas eu une vie aussi facile comme tu le penses, j’ai appris à tourner la page. Je ne vis pas sur un nuage comme tu le penses, j’ai appris à aimer ma vie. Je ne me crois pas plus belle que les autres comme tu le penses, j’ai appris à m’aimer comme je suis. Je ne suis pas tant connue que tu le penses, j’ai appris à être à l’écoute des autres. Je ne suis pas aussi faible comme tu le penses, j’ai appris que la haine n’aide personne. Je ne crois pas connaître la vie plus que les autres comme tu le penses, j’ai appris à exprimer mes idées. Quand à toi, tu as infiniment plus de valeur que ce que tu penses, sauf que tu ne le reconnais pas encore.

-Belinda Santiago-

Les mots du silence sont des mots très rares qu’on ne trouve dans aucun livre,  qui restent longtemps coincés dans la poitrine, qui se glissent parfois jusque dans la gorge mais n’arrivent pas jusqu’à la bouche. 

Les mots du silence ne sont pas faits pour être entendus avec les oreilles.

Les mots du silence se murmurent avec des gestes infimes et des mimiques immobiles, ils se lisent avec les yeux fermés, s’écoutent avec le cœur, se gardent au profond de soi, dans la douceur des émotions.

Jacques Salomé.

Currently feeling the emotion “just had water after chewing mint gum” with a side of tired

Sometimes u need a weighted blanket to flatten the emotions into a thin little pancake so they don’t condense into something unmanageable

Pain pain and pain again.... but i love it

{The song who help me draw this}

And when you're tired, think of me

And when the world is all dark and bad dreams, think of me

And when you can't talk, can't walk, think of me

And when the air gets thick and your lungs get twisted, think of me

And when you're lonely, think of me

I'll be there

I dread these halls like the hand of God.

I don't want this to be real.

New untitled

emotions, by yours truly... which one are you today?

The strange thing about growing up in conservative Christianity and then leaving it behind is that there are a lot of secular/progressive spaces that engage in similar thinking while sincerely believing their ideas are counter to conservative ones. So I thought I would just make a list of things I was taught within conservative Christianity, the stuff that was either the core of our beliefs, or the social dynamics that we created. Some of the language I use is specifically either scriptural, or Christian-speak.

This list isn’t to say “stop thinking this way.” This is actually intended to simply be informative because sometimes social justice spaces assume, “we are crafting our ideals in opposition to conservative ideals therefore whatever we think surely must be the opposite of whatever they think,” without ever seeming to know that their language and ideals look and sound the same.

So, let’s begin:

Sin-leveling: x is bad, and y is bad, and all bad things deserve an equal reaction

Sin-leveling part 2: because all things are equally bad, there’s nothing wrong with inverting the consequences. Hurting others becomes acceptable (because it’s no different than doing something distasteful), doing something distasteful is unforgivable (because it’s no different than doing something harmful)

Avoid all appearance of evil: if I assume that your behavior looks wrong, then you are wrong, even if further context would say otherwise. You should avoid doing anything that others would see as wrong because you are not allowed the benefit of the doubt or to defend yourself.

Sin by association: x company contracted with y company. Y company engages in something sinful, which means x company approves of said sinful thing which means if you purchase from x company, you are condoning, supporting, and have actually committed the sin.

Think only on what is good: or as the pastor of my old church liked to call it, “garbage in, garbage out.” Whatever ideas, thoughts, words, arguments, stories, pictures, books, movies, songs, friends, love you put in your head will create the desire to become that. If you want to be good, you must avoid any bad thought because you will “slip” into wanting it and then be unable to stop yourself from being it. (For example, type into google “is secular music” and click on the autocomplete of “a sin”)

Language as an in-group test: if you do not describe your life, experiences, and beliefs with the exact same vocabulary and in-group speak, you are either not really one of us, or you’re someone who hasn’t thought through their ideas as deeply as I have.

By any means necessary: Also known in the ex-Evangelical world as “lying for Jesus.” If my words create the necessary beliefs and actions in others, then it doesn’t matter if I am exaggerating, saying half-truths, or using manipulative language, because I’m saving others and helping them do what’s right.

Touch not God’s anointed: any critiques of those our community trusts, critiques of those we’ve deemed “the good ones,” are actually people trying to sow discord and disunity to destroy our community and their voice should be silenced because they must be lying.

Judge not lest ye be judged: A scripture that we throw at people when someone says our leadership is abusive, a scripture we cry is being taken out of context when we want to harshly critique someone ourselves. 

There’s more, lots more, but this post is already fairly long. Once again, though, this isn’t intended to be combative. I just want people to know the actual social dynamics that a lot of us grew up with in conservative Christianity communities, so they know when sometimes they’re sharing those social dynamics, not countering them.

I asked my therapist and she didn’t have an answer so I turn to tumblr

I get this feeling sometimes and it’s usually when I’m overwhelmed either REALLY happy or any amount of upset and it’s like I go from feeling like I usually do (mid teens, a bit younger then I actually am) to feeling like I’m back to grub a child.

I have no idea what this is so and idea of what it is would be great.

You are allowed to be flawed. You are allowed to be vulnerable. You are allowed to be a complex individual with many layers beneath the surface. You are allowed to have opinions that don't agree with the status quo. You are allowed to live & take up space however you need to. You are allowed to speak your mind. You are allowed to keep your peace of mind protected. You are allowed to cultivate a definition of life you can agree with.

Daily existential crisis really are just so draining and with depression it’s like I want to get better but if I have no purpose, If their is no point in living, then why should I?

I feel like as a teen it is incredibly hard to change and better yourself especially when you live in a household that isn’t the healing type, as instead of healing the trauma sticks in each and every situation and because of their trauma they’ll feel the need to make you feel guilty because you expressed yourself by, for forbid, crying!

Heavy and empty?

(Warning: low key sad, word vomit)

I don’t know if other people get this way but I have a feeling in my chest that’s empty and almost super heavy at the same time. It’s like someone dug a cavity right into my upper chest and the scoop motion of digging has left that concave feeling into it. I can’t say if I’m sad or not but I definitely feel really lonely and I don’t know what to do about it. It’s not like I don’t have friends, family, partners, etc that can help with those feelings, it’s just that it feels weird. I feel unfulfilled in the relationship dynamics I have, and I feel like I can handle the emotional capabilities of other people but conversely no one really tries to deal with my shit too(?) I don’t know how to really talk about how I really really feel sometimes with other people cuz I get these super awkward faces and then I get frustrated and dismissive of those feelings in the moment which later kinda flexes itself into this loneliness later. It kinda turns into disappointment and a bit of despair because I feel like I tried really hard to get to know other people but the same energy wasn’t put in back(?) (which makes me feel like that’s not fair because it doesn’t come out all the time so to ask other people to figure that out also feels kinda bad because then it’s like, you can’t have relationships where you expect people to gift back stuff just because you gift them). I’m low key gaslighting myself for feeling bad that the people in my life don’t know what to do with me when I get feelings. The people I feel like I want to be closer to, it feels like they drift out. Out of previous rejections I’ve had, I try to fight every instinct to cling because I know clinginess is ugly but I don’t know what to do now. Do I just make new friends at this point? Even with new relationships I can’t tell if I’m putting distance between myself and others because I’m hard or others do because they low key know I’m internally messed up. Do I give up on these other relationships because it constantly feels like no one knows me anyway so what’s the point? I feel like I put in work to them so what do I do to not feel hollow? Am I even right to crave feelings or assurance from others anymore since all I get is awkward face? I don’t really know anymore but it’s pretty exhausting. I know myself pretty well, I’m just tired of constantly maintaining my feelings to the point I feel empty and heavy almost all the time. I’m blunt and can tell people what I’m feeling but the awkward faces I get from people I’ve considered close is getting me, the distance I feel from other people I consider close is getting me, the actual physical distance I have between me and people I consider close is getting me. I guess applications for companionship are below, I promise I’m just low grade crazy inside not outside.

An uneven heart

It started with I like you Words we wouldn’t regret And we knew exactly who We meant when we first met

Time rolled into place The words grew weaker I could see your face But questioned why the words grew meeker

My faith in you is dying The brain and heart collide When all of me is trying For my love to not subside

I don’t want to cry Or at least I’ll try

I want stop hating you Because I don’t want to say Adieu

Irish Myths

VOL 9. The SELKIE. An Irish Mermaid Story

The Selkie’s Secret

In a forgotten corner of the Emerald Isle, where cliffs stood like ancient guardians and the waves whispered forgotten lullabies, there dwelled a fisherman named Eamon. His cottage clung to the rugged coast, its thatched roof weathered by countless storms. Eamon was a man of few words, his eyes etched with the sorrows of a lifetime spent chasing elusive fish and memories.

One tempest-laden evening, as rain drummed upon the windowpanes and the sea roared its defiance, Eamon stumbled upon a sight that would forever alter the course of his existence. There, nestled amidst the seaweed-strewn rocks, lay a treasure—a seal pelt of silver-gray, soft as moonlight and shimmering with otherworldly grace. Eamon’s gnarled fingers traced its edges, and he knew he held something more than mere fur. This was the skin of a Selkie—a creature of myth and melancholy.

The legends whispered of Selkies—of their dual existence, their fluidity between land and sea. By day, they swam as seals, their sleek bodies slicing through the icy depths. But when the moon hung low, they shed their skins, emerging as ethereal women, their eyes reflecting the mysteries of the abyss.

Eamon hid the pelt beneath his bed, its presence a secret shared only with the wind and the salt. Days turned into weeks, and his cottage became a sanctuary for the lost and the weary. Sailors sought refuge from raging storms, widows mourned husbands swallowed by the sea—all found solace within those walls. Yet Eamon’s gaze often strayed to the hidden pelt, wondering if the Selkie would return.

Then, one moonless night, as the stars blinked like ancient eyes, Eamon heard it—a melody that tugged at his heart, a lament woven from moonbeams and longing. He rushed to the window, and there she stood: the Selkie. Her skin was pale as foam, her hair a cascade of seaweed green. Her eyes held the wisdom of ages, and her lips curved in both fear and hope.

She was naked, vulnerable—a creature caught between realms. Eamon retrieved the pelt, its silvery strands slipping through his fingers like water. He held it out to her, voice barely a whisper. “Take it,” he said. “Be free.”

The Selkie’s tears glistened. She reached for the pelt, her fingers trembling. But then she hesitated, torn between love and duty. For Selkies faced a cruel choice: to remain with mortal lovers or return to the sea. Their hearts were bound by moonlight and salt spray.

Eamon understood. He had glimpsed eternity in her eyes, tasted salt and starlight on her lips. And so, with a bittersweet smile, he released her. The Selkie donned her pelt, her form shifting until she became a sleek seal once more. She nuzzled his cheek, a silent farewell, before slipping into the waves.

As the sea swallowed her, Eamon wept—for love unspoken, for a Selkie lost, and for the ache that would haunt him till his dying day. He walked the cliffs thereafter, eyes scanning the horizon, listening for her song—a melody carried by the wind, sung by a Selkie who danced beneath the moon.

And so, the legend of Eamon and the Selkie passed from generation to generation—a tale of sacrifice, of love that transcended realms, and of a fisherman who held the sea’s secrets close to his heart.

And there, my friend, ends our journey—a whisper of magic and longing that lingers in the salt-laden air, where Selkies still dance upon moonlit shores

Christy,

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