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this is so long, this is so long, maybe you are ADD-proof

therapy is 45 minutes and costs a lot of money and often the therapist isn’t exactly what you need to feel better. today I had an hour and a half of choppy, awkward talking with my instructor and as always it ended in a heartfelt hug and I felt vastly better.

I later said it’s so relieving to talk, just to get things off my chest - it’s not even about getting any specific answers and instructions like “do this and then do like this”, but just to get to talk…
she said she noticed the difference in me after I was done pouring my twisted thoughts out.

and it was good! she didn’t judge, never, and helped me form new thoughts, and applauded the parts where I’ve done well -

like, I told her that a few weeks ago I noticed I was doing well when I looked in the mirror and had a thought, “I could be pretty”, and she said I was adorable and that that was such a good thought/sign! -

and we talked about how last week there was a day when she seemed a little frustrated with me because I was having a cranky day and how it was important that we both know that I know that she can separate me as a person from whatever feelings something very temporary can evoke - that I know that she still thinks I’m absolutely okay even if there ever is a moment of frustration or annoyance or whatever. it was important to me because I normally interpret people’s momentary annoyance with my current behaviour as that they hate me, full-stop.

it’s very important to me that I don’t question someone’s affection for me based on one off moment or day.

and like I said, it was just so wonderful to pour things out. they didn’t have to be connected to each other, they didn’t have to make sense to me, they didn’t have to be well-formulated…

and I asked her to tell me how she feels about my cutting and my attempts to die. it was very good for me to hear. important. it was both an exercise in communicating about difficult topics and a sincere wish to know that I haven’t treated her badly by telling her of those things.

she told me she sees my cutting as something bad but not lethal, and therefore she isn’t in such a hurry to rid me of it - because she can see that it’s a survival method. she said that since I haven’t killed myself with it in ten years, she has faith in it’s not being the thing that kills me.

it was hard to hear of the fright she’d felt when I told her about the July incident. I’m not okay with having hurt anyone by my actions. but she said she’s happy I told her, anyway. but it was hard because my default assumption is that no one gives a fuck about me - and then there I sat looking at a person who clearly cares a lot and who has felt bad on my behalf and who, against all odds (in my opinion), wishes me well. I feel really guilty. but also loved, despite all my shit.

at the end I played her Fireproof, and she said that it’s been so long, and yet she’s still there, fireproof, and that we have a lot of time ahead as well.

I said I know we grind through the same topics over and over again and again, but that veeery slowly they’re getting smaller and will eventually be completely dealt with. I think I see a kind of metamorphosis in how I feel about things, and what topics are blooming up in our discussions. I see evolution - very gradual, but something’s improving.

I also know I said I’d not blab so much about my life here and I do mean to try that, to some extent, but

she suggested I try and talk about positive things here, to reinforce both to myself and any possible readers (?) that there are good things in my life too.
and they don’t negate the bad things completely - but neither do the negative things erase the good things entirely.

so this is, once again, a very long way of saying I talked with an understanding person and feel better (for now).

at one point she started suggesting that I emulate a cool, calm and collected person, and then laughed apologetically that she didn’t mean to imply that everyone’s going to just stand by and watch me fake being together whilst really falling apart inside -
but I replied that it’ll help, in the long run, to at least maintain the image of everything being okay… that maybe it’ll then start sinking in that they really are okay and that I can survive them.

what I do question very much is how on earth I’ll survive the emotional tidal waves, haha.

bear with me, please. bear with me. they will pass. please bear with me.
they will pass easier when I know that people will stay.

I am not a monster.

I’m a sweet, funny, compassionate, smart, adorkable, kind, thoughtful, generous, goddammit LOVABLE young woman

and it’s literally hurting me right now to say so much good about myself so I’ll go before I explode, haha.

an extremely grateful public thank you to the best instructor in the world for all her patience, kindness and unconditional acceptance and warm hugs always a shy nudge away ♥

"[Elsa] symbolizes all of us who just hold so much in, and we’re afraid, especially as women, to unleash our power, in fear that people aren’t going to like us or we’re going to put people off. So, it’s about embracing that, harnessing that, and letting it go, and it’s such a great message, for young girls especially." - Idina Menzel

(Source: majesdanes)

shit shit shit okay

I shouldn’t have written

no one cares

everyone knows my emotional skin is burnt down and all frayed nerve ends

it just felt so fucking bad (and will do so again if I start thinking about it so let’s not do that)

less rehashing old wounds that still bleed at tiny prods, less visible drowning in them

more curtailing! more putting covers on the wounds and keeping them quiet and secret if possible, please

just reblog nice and not-so-nice things okay

I apologise.

every mistake I ever made
has been rehashed and then replayed
‘cause I got lost along the way

I say we need a cure.

apparently X-Men still (… STILL!) makes me choke on my tears

it’s such a perfect example of a way to remind myself how I always fuck things up with everyone and why I can’t have nice things and shouldn’t hype myself up for a movie I will never be able to see in the end

I don’t even know how I got to thinking about it now - suddenly it just was there in my head and

and I made myself very sad :(

things that once made you happy and excited have a way of cutting you to the bone later on

and I know I sound melodramatic as fuck and God knows I hate it

I’m just

really sad

and angry with myself

but mostly just very sad.

X-Men used to make me joyful and happy and it was very important to me

so I ruined it for myself. of course.

I often sleep with my knuckles against my neck, chest or head and I always wish, when I notice I’m in that position again, that I had Wolverine’s claws to impale myself on, lol.

oh for fuck’s sake get your shit together okay and plaster on a smile and hollow laughter just for fuck’s sake get it together aagh

those three words are said too much, they’re not enough

a dark February night, long ago, my friend and her sisters and I were driving around aimlessly and singing along to the radio.

Chasing Cars came on.

we all sang with feeling, and my heart was in it because that song has been so meaningful to me.

and suddenly my friend nudged me and said, “this part always makes me think of you.” chills ran all over me.

I need your grace
to remind me
to find my own

… I think that’s why hugs are so important to me. that’s why I’m a leech.

it’s not nice
and I am working on it
I really truly am

but I need a warm loving touch to remind me that I’m okay (in all the senses of the word).

I need your grace
and I know it doesn’t make it okay but I honestly am sorry for it and very grateful and appreciative.

I need your grace
to remind me
that I’m okay.

if I lay here
if I just lay here
would you lie with me and
just forget the world

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