Say it back: I’m managing what I can and making peace with what I can’t. I cannot control everything, I don’t need to control everything. This feeling is uncomfortable but it is not unsafe. My ideas of perfection only harm me. I do not need to fulfil a daily quota of worthiness to deserve the love I am given. When I am kinder to myself, I can be kinder to everyone else.
I’ll never be done thinking about lost friendships. When after years they still remember things you said in passing. When you now don’t know the hair colour of the people who formed you. When you look at them too long but can’t stop. When you can’t look at them. When you get that lightning bolt in your stomach from thinking about them. When you once spent years building encyclopedic knowledge on them and now it’s outdated. When it faded and holding on gave you rope burn. When it faded and you didn’t try to stop it. When they’re hurting and it’s not your place to help them anymore. When you’re hurting and they’re indifferent to it. Lost friendships.
me, continuing to look at a screen despite having a headache: OUCH my brain… OUCH my brain… OUCH my brain… OUCH my brain… OUCH my brain… OUCH my brain… OUCH my brain… OUCH my brain…
i know this is very personal and i hope it does not hurt you to internalize something about your own experience but your post about your dad absolutely changed me. my father passed almost 4 months ago and he was my best friend. our (unknowingly) last conversation was him telling me that he considers me an extension of himself, and when you said you are his epilogue i found myself in you, this passing stranger that i will never know. we will walk their paths and their hearts will be in everything we do. he loved to cook so i put his urn on the kitchen table when i cook. i think of how he'd laugh when i struggle to flip pancakes. when i fix something i think of how he'd be proud. they are always watching us and every time someone sees you smile they will see a man they've never met in the afterglow. your life is a museum of everyone you've ever met and he was the one who built it for you. thank you for sharing your heart and even if we are strangers i hope you know there is someone who shares your pain and love wholeheartedly, even if a little different. we'll be okay. even if our lives span longer than we knew them, our love will be for the entirety.
Thank you for sharing your heart, and thank you for knowing mine. Thank you for your kindness and intentionality.
It’s difficult to know that the origin of such beautiful perspective is the heartache which created it. Despite it all, within the agony I am thankful for the moments of understanding it can offer. I am thankful for who he helped you to be and who you continue to choose to be. There is no greater endorsement of a person than to practice kindness in their name. Thank you for sharing your dad with me, and thank you for letting me share my dad with you. All my love, forevermore 💛
Hi, I saw your post about your dad on an instagram account and I had to find your blog and make an account just to message you because my dad also died and it's coming up on 8 years and the phrase my life will be his epilogue will live with me now forever and I needed to reach out and say how many pixels and miles away that meant everything to me and I hope the moon is pretty where you are and your epilogue is a happy one
Thank you for your kind words. Please know you are in my heart and I feel your sincerity deeply. I’m so sorry we’re in this boat, and I’m thankful that there are moments of reprieve through knowing we are not as alone as we may feel. I have hope for the joy we can find and create in our lives. Thank you for the joy you have brought me today, for your kindness and sweet thoughts. All my love and all my empathy, friend. May the stars always shine 💛
It’s November and I’m putting down the glass and plastic. The weather is cold and I have time to take. This is not life or death. I am an adult and I am not in trouble.
It’s November and I’m managing what I can and making peace with what I can’t. I cannot control everything, I don’t need to control everything. This feeling is uncomfortable but it is not unsafe. My ideas of perfection only harm me. I do not need to fulfil a daily quota of worthiness to deserve the love I am given. When I am kinder to myself, I can be kinder to everything else.
It’s November and the dark is startling, the cold is striking, the stars are shining. There is life to be lived
Home for a few days and found that my mum had recorded and viewed all of Fleabag
the most fun a girl can have is finding parallels, noticing patterns, making connections, contemplating
It is what it is but like. Can it be something else
hope is a skill
hope is a weapon you are trained to wield
favourite additions
You cannot hide this in the tags, bestie. This is too lovely to keep a secret.
It may not be apparent to everyone how to easily find out who wrote the poem in the tags, so: @mumblesplash
(an instant-classic example of a Tumblr thread where so many people add value!)
James Baldwin in conversation with Nikki Giovanni
i need everyone to know that community is what will save us all in every single way imaginable. you forming a bond with your neighbour or coworker might help them move house or feel less alone or have the courage to leave an unhealthy living environment. you helping a stranger might provide them with hope. in turn, being able to lean on your community in times of need will save you. your broader bonds with your community are the revolution we need. our society seeks to divide and separate us in so many ways but we are all so much more united in our struggles and joys than you are made to believe. we need to hold onto each other very tightly.
I rambled about this in tags on another post but I can’t emphasize enough how only focusing on large-scale issues WILL lead to hopelessness & burnout. Activism must include small-scale, achievable works. If you don’t have something you can get your hands around and look at directly, despair will eat you alive.
I want to elaborate here for people who don’t think they’re capable of practical activism due to disability: what a LOT of volunteer groups need most is clerical and logistical support. Maybe you can’t get down to the river to pick up trash, but how about working the sign-up table? Or sending out email reminders or creating promotional graphics? How about making calls to the city to get funds for supplies?
Many volunteer groups rely on retired people to run their day-to-day functions, so as the economy worsens and retirement ages go up, charities are feeling the squeeze as their aging participants aren’t replaced. If you’re unable to work full-time due to disability but have the means to attend a zoom meeting once a month and take minutes, there’s an activist group that needs you. If you don’t have the financial means to donate to charities you care about, there’s a local advocacy group that needs help deciding how to allocate donation funds.
If you’re not sure how you or your disability can fit into a group, call and ask. My prison book group works from a basement that isn’t wheelchair accessible, so when I was unable to do stairs last year, I built them a database.
You can help and you are needed.
Anyway.
Hand on my heart. Hand on my stupid heart.
GIRLS IN MY PHONE. WE CAN DO IT
hope is a skill
hope is a weapon you are trained to wield
favourite additions
You cannot hide this in the tags, bestie. This is too lovely to keep a secret.
It may not be apparent to everyone how to easily find out who wrote the poem in the tags, so: @mumblesplash
(an instant-classic example of a Tumblr thread where so many people add value!)
