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stardust child

@missingvibrance

19 | a way to cope with the bearings of childhood doom
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♡︎ 18 years of age ♡︎ any & all pronouns ♡︎ nonbinary ♡ ︎white & arab ♡︎ agnostic ♡︎

☺︎︎ mentally ill: depression, anxiety, c-ptsd, bpd

☺︎︎ 11 1/2 months out of an abusive household

☺︎︎ neurodivergent

☞︎ this is a side blog so if i follow ur account or like ur posts it'll end up appearing under the name of my main blog (@monsterenergydrunk)

☞︎ dni if:

- racist, homophobic, "super straight", transphobic, etc.

☞︎ this is a trauma blog and a safe space for me to exhibit my personal experiences with abuse and mental illness. if you are easily triggered by such things it is best not to follow me, but if what i post helps you sleep at night then go ahead and do so (:

☞︎ my inbox & msgs are always open as a safe space for anyone who needs it. i literally don't have a single judgmental bone in my body (unless u count fascists & ppl who get in the way of other ppl's existence) & comforting ppl is just something that i like to do & if u don't need comfort, i'm totally down for random convos too (:

☞︎ everything i post is okay to reblog unless i mention otherwise in the hashtags.

thank you for stopping by my blog and i hope you're doing okay today; if not, i hope tomorrow is better, and if it's not just know i'm happy that you exist rn even if idk you (⊃。•́‿•̀。)⊃

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when you’re a child who grows up in an environment where your needs are constantly left unmet and you’re constantly told that outside the environment you’re currently in that there’s a scarier one waiting to eat you up and tear you alive, you grow into a bigger child who has to learn how to navigate a world you were never shaped for.

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everyone is deserving of forgiveness and benevolence. not me though, y’all stay safe

wrote this a year ago and i know now i am deserving of benevolence and forgiveness. you are too.

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macbcth

nothing frustrates me more than when adults refuse to even slightly indulge the questions and thoughts of children. i remember one time when one of my younger cousins accidentally stumbled across the concept of purchasing power parity because she realised 10 rupees which bought her 10 candies in India only bought her ~3 candies when we went on holiday to Japan, and when she asked her mother about “why the same things cost different amounts in different places” my aunt had the audacity to call her spoiled for not understanding the “”worth” of money, that’s not what she was ASKING damn it!! your daughter just set up her own big mac index and realised a key metric of macroeconomics!!! how do you not find that utterly fascinating !! why don’t adults talk to children !!

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one of the greatest tragedies in life is that you will always be loved more than you will ever know. someone in class finds your presence inviting and warm, even if you’ve only ever exchanged a few words with them—maybe none at all. someone on the street loves your smile and it gets them down the next few streets. someone you used to be friends with still wishes to fondly call your name. someone you used to be friends with five years ago would give anything to be in the same room as you today. someone who regularly comes into work is disappointed when you aren’t there to brighten their day. someone missed you today. someone noticed you were gone. someone loves you when you’re there; someone loves you when you’re nowhere to be found at all. you think you have always disappeared when you’re no longer in the picture, but you’ve never left the frame.

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Just because you can push yourself through the hard stressful painful thing, it doesn't always mean you should have to.

It's okay to rest. It's okay to look out for yourself. It's okay to give yourself the attention and boundaries you need.

Because you shouldn't have to push yourself until exhaustion, and you shouldn't have to suffer just because other people think you should.

You are important. You have value. You deserve good things.

Please believe me; you deserve good things.

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with bpd, boredom is such a pain it feels like someone is openly stabbing you in the chest repeatedly. It feels like you’re being torn apart, limb from limb. it feels so numb and empty. nothing is happening. It feels like you’re dead. It feels like you’re floating in a void of nothing. boredom is death, numb and empty, and nothing is worse than being bored when you have bpd.

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cor-vina

Ah Yes, Thoughts With Hyper-empathy:

  • Dear gods am I being mean? How do you know if you’re mean DID I HURT ANYONES FEELINGS EVER????
  • I know I’ve had this stuffed animal for years but if I get rid of her it’ll hurt her feelings
  • No I cannot watch this sad film I will become physically ill from crying and my family will worry…again😅
  • I read a book with one sad moment and I never read it again, don’t even mention the name of the title I will sob
  • Shut up I know I’ve cried three times today but that puppy walking down the street was so chubby I think I nearly died
  • My friend just made a really big achievement and my physical body cannot contain this much happiness I’m so proud
  • Every time I express myself I must use aggressive hyperbole and every emoji
  • A complete stranger made a really big achievement and my physical body cannot contain this much happiness I’m so PROUD
  • I accidentally said something rude six years ago and every time I remember it I am filled with terrible shame to the point of tears
  • My face my be impassive but I am feeling everything right now please help but also leave me alone
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empathy, sympathy, and compassion are not synonymous. empathy is not an inherently good or bad trait, and showing/not showing empathy does not automatically make someone a good or bad person. it’s the last two which are important.

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I genuinely don’t understand why most self proclaimed “empaths” are so insistent that empathy is healing light, sacred, holy, etc. My high empathy is painful. It greatly restricts the types of media I can comfortably consume, it means I have to set much more boundaries than usual, it means it takes a lot of energy for me to listen to people vent, it means other people’s suffering can send me into a breakdown. My empathy doesn’t grant me superpowers of understanding or healing or loving. I would pick normal empathy over this, any day.

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