they don’t tell you what anxious impulsivity looks like.
when people imagine anxiety, they always imagine risk averse behavior. you overthink, you’re deliberate, your thinking is catastrophic, and you’re always thinking through seventeen possible scenarios in which things can go wrong.
but sometimes you’re so anxious and things feel so horrible that you do things without thinking because you want the bad feelings to stop. you say something stupid in a group chat, so you immediately leave all of your servers and block your friends so that you don’t have to see the aftermath. you’re unsure about your relationship, so you break up with your partner out of nowhere or you wake up one morning and just decide to ghost them so you don’t have to deal with it anymore. you’re uncomfortable at a party with people you don’t know, so you run outside and take the train home at 3am without realizing how dangerous that is because you just need to leave.
your anxiety can get so bad that, in an attempt to feel safe and secure, you can’t predict what you’ll do next.
Eat healthy foods because you want to nourish your body, not because you want to change the way it looks.
Move your body because you want to keep it strong and healthy, not to change its shape.
Love your body fiercely, and let that love be what drives you to treat yourself with kindness.
“I’ve come to the realization that our relationship failed not because I didn’t love you, but because I didn’t love myself.”
— m.g.
But if this was a movie you’d be here by now
I want this.
I want us.
I want you.
Forever.
take a breath, spit out the blood in your mouth, and get back up on your feet. you still got a couple of motherfuckers to prove wrong.
“You don’t let go of a bad relationship because you stop caring about them. You let go because you start caring about yourself.”
— Charles Orlando
Abusive parents make sure their children always act like everything’s okay. That’s one of the first things you learn there: don’t let the neighbours hear you scream, don’t cry in public, don’t show your marks from being beaten to anyone, don’t talk about things that go on at home, show that you’re okay, don’t be a weakling, don’t let people get the ‘wrong’ idea. You learn that 'acting’ okay and making sure nothing is suspicious about your appearance comes way before your needs or your well being; keeping the family’s secrets is imposed on you before you even know what’s being asked of you.
There’s almost unspoken rule to not ask for help; in fact if you do, you’ll be punished, so asking for help will feel as the same thing as asking for pain and humiliation, something highly inadvisable to do. So on top like feeling that most of the abuse is your fault just because you never said anything or showed symptoms, you learn not to ask for help, ever. The mere thought is humiliating and like you’re making yourself weak and a target for bullying, even when it would be okay, even preferable for anyone else to ask for help in the same situation.
It’s not your fault if you can’t ask for help. If pretense of normalcy was ingrained into your mind since you were a kid, that’s not something you can fight. Trauma conditioning is powerful and it created a real barrier between you and anyone who could possibly help, just to keep you abused in secrecy, to make sure you’re keeping it secret, isolated and alone in it. This is not something you could have done to yourself, or chosen, it’s inflicted, and none of your responsibility.
Im still hoping its you and me in the end.
(via little-random-thoughts)
Everything seems to be so hard. A blog about feelings, poetry, mental health and past trauma experiences and about living with it.
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