The Stories We Love Best, Do Live In Us Forever

Wait, what?

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I’ve reached 4 months free from self harm

So I rewarded myself with cake and Deadpool comics

It’s been really hard and I know it won’t get any easier I’ve relapsed after the 6 month milestone before.

Asylum 12 is next month though so I’m rather excited to get see Osric again, this time I hope I don’t cry. Oh and Amanda Tapping, gods I will probably freak out and fangirl.

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Depression is hard to understand, because it is not a consistent state. Depression is rather like a virus, but like a virus, it has its manageable days and its acute, life-threatening flare-ups. You can be in a depression and still laugh at a friend’s joke or have a good night at dinner or manage low-level functioning. You grocery shop and stop to pet a puppy on the corner, talk to friends in a café, maybe write something you don’t hate. When this happens, you might examine your day for clues like reading tea leaves in a cup: Was it the egg for breakfast that made the difference? The three-mile run? You think, well, maybe this thing has moved on now. And you make no sudden moves for fear of attracting its abusive attention again.

But other times…

Other times, it’s as if a hole is opening inside you, wider and wider, pressing against your lungs, pushing your internal organs into unnatural places, and you cannot draw a true breath. You are breaking inside, slowly, and everything that keeps you tethered to your life, all of your normal responses, is being sucked through the hole like an airlock emptying into space. These are the times Holly Golightly called the Mean Reds.

I call it White Knuckling it.

Miles and Miles of No Man’s Land, Libba Bray (via babybirched)

(via heysammy)