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bleeding poetry

@maxdamax

just a random poet and an avid reader (she/they?) pan/bi, queer

Help for when you’re having a rough time

(If you’re looking for my old pinned post with my whump masterlists, you can find it here.)

In light of some deeply sad news in the whump community today, I’m thinking about how many of us here struggle with mental health, sometimes including physical or mental self-harm and suicidality. Since I know lots of folks might be having a hard time right now, I wanted to share some resources that have helped me in rough moments. Please feel free to add on to this post (or make your own, if you want!) with the resources that have worked for you. 

First, a note:

Trauma, shame, and suicidality all tend to isolate - they make us feel like we’re all alone in the world, like no one else would understand us, and like the only solutions we have available to us are ones we can think of all by ourselves. In my experience, the antidote to that is connection. If you’re feeling scared or alone, you can hop into my asks or DMs if you want. I’m sure there are other folks in this community who would offer that, too. Many of us have grappled with mental health struggles, including suicidal ideation, and sometimes we can offer each other the care that can be hard to offer ourselves. Don’t be afraid to reach out if you need support.

A quick note about location: I live in the US, but about half the resources in this post are written guides you can access from anywhere. The hotlines and warmlines linked below are US-based. One or two are accessible in Canada or have an online chat or moderated forum that could be accessed anywhere. If you have good local resources from another place, please reblog and add them! (Thank you, @straight-to-the-pain, for flagging this in the notes!)

That said, here’s my absolute first recommendation if you’re feeling generally awful and don’t know what to do:

1. You Feel Like Shit (also available at its original site here)

If you’ve read a lot of ~self care tips~ in your life (and if you’re a bit of a salty bitch like me), you might be sick of being told to eat something and take a nap. (I don’t think we can hydrate our way out of long-term trauma and late-stage capitalistic hell, but thanks.) That said, I’ve found this site REALLY helpful. Personally, I have ADHD and CPTSD, a combination that makes it ROUGH for me to know how to take care of myself sometimes. This site speaks to you calmly, like a non-judgemental friend, and walks you through steps that you might struggle with if you have a hard time with executive function in general, or if you’re ill, grieving, overwhelmed, or otherwise just off your game. I pretty much always walk away feeling at least a little better, even if I don’t complete every step.

There are more suggestions and resources below the cut. Wishing everyone in this community love and care. <3

God this life can be so cruel.

There are children crying for a family and there are parents grieving for their children lost too young. I can't imagine this life alone, there would be no point to any wealth I gained, if couldn't share it with anyone. There are people who have nothing to their name but the love the carry with them. That is all I want . Love. Love for all that carve it, for those that have been denied it by god only knows who. For those that never found it, I wish to gift it onto those who feel alone and lost with no hope.

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deathbeds

i will let you go if you would be happier with someone else. you matter to me more than my love for you matters to me. i can honestly say at this point, that it would be okay if you don’t choose me. you do not owe me your love. don’t get me wrong, i do care if i end up with you. hell, its my dream to end up with you. but really, more than that, i want you to be happy. you deserve a beautiful life. a life in which you live through everything. the good, the bad, the fulfilling. if you do not see a life like that with me, i would understand. oh but darling, look beyond a little, just for a second… i think i could make you smile. every day. until i die. and even after i die, you would smile just by the memories of me. you would smile because you know that maybe if you were with someone else, you could have existed peacefully. but we would be the ones who didn’t just exist, but lived.

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and when you lie on your deathbed, your life flashing before your eyes, who would you want in the highlights? what life would you want to see? one without me, being through better times and routine days? or one filled with home and spontaneity with me, where we have kids and a big house and i surprise you with skydiving trips and expeditions to caves and stargazing every night and backpacking through the far east, all with our kids, exploring what will never be ours to own? or maybe do you want one with no kids and a small house and we both have office jobs but we still find time to make love and stargaze and write poetry and cook? whichever life you see, i just know you will feel most at home with me. because i don’t care if we have office jobs or are celebrities, if we have 10 kids or none, if we live in a huge house or a little one. because i feel most at home with you… 

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but whatever happens, whether you find a home in me or not, when i am on my deathbed, my life flashing in my mind, it will mostly be made up of moments i have already made with you. i just hope that maybe, we get to make make new memories until i die. and maybe, the room of my death will be filled with the life of you, making me smile until i can’t anymore… and i hope you have a life much more fulfilling and happier than you could ever imagine, with me or not. because its an achievement in itself to make me feel love the way you do, even if we don’t end up together. and even if im alone, knowing you are with someone who makes you happy, knowing that somewhere out there, you are living a life you know is fulfilled, i will die happy. because the person i love most is happy. my soulmate is happy. you are happy.

  • me
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deathbeds

i will let you go if you would be happier with someone else. you matter to me more than my love for you matters to me. i can honestly say at this point, that it would be okay if you don’t choose me. you do not owe me your love. don’t get me wrong, i do care if i end up with you. hell, its my dream to end up with you. but really, more than that, i want you to be happy. you deserve a beautiful life. a life in which you live through everything. the good, the bad, the fulfilling. if you do not see a life like that with me, i would understand. oh but darling, look beyond a little, just for a second… i think i could make you smile. every day. until i die. and even after i die, you would smile just by the memories of me. you would smile because you know that maybe if you were with someone else, you could have existed peacefully. but we would be the ones who didn’t just exist, but lived.

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and when you lie on your deathbed, your life flashing before your eyes, who would you want in the highlights? what life would you want to see? one without me, being through better times and routine days? or one filled with home and spontaneity with me, where we have kids and a big house and i surprise you with skydiving trips and expeditions to caves and stargazing every night and backpacking through the far east, all with our kids, exploring what will never be ours to own? or maybe do you want one with no kids and a small house and we both have office jobs but we still find time to make love and stargaze and write poetry and cook? whichever life you see, i just know you will feel most at home with me. because i don’t care if we have office jobs or are celebrities, if we have 10 kids or none, if we live in a huge house or a little one. because i feel most at home with you… 

deathbeds

i will let you go if you would be happier with someone else. you matter to me more than my love for you matters to me. i can honestly say at this point, that it would be okay if you don’t choose me. you do not owe me your love. don’t get me wrong, i do care if i end up with you. hell, its my dream to end up with you. but really, more than that, i want you to be happy. you deserve a beautiful life. a life in which you live through everything. the good, the bad, the fulfilling. if you do not see a life like that with me, i would understand. oh but darling, look beyond a little, just for a second… i think i could make you smile. every day. until i die. and even after i die, you would smile just by the memories of me. you would smile because you know that maybe if you were with someone else, you could have existed peacefully. but we would be the ones who didn’t just exist, but lived.

too much, not enough

i think i am too much sometimes. i don't think im ever enough.

my words echo across the room, i am the only one talking. my voice is a whisper, my words die in the back of my throat.

my emotions are fireworks, my love is bright and loud. my heart is a graveyard, im killing you.

im taking up all the space, i shine brighter than the spotlight i stole. im shrinking into the background, im invisible now.

they're pushing me away, so why do I keep running to them? they're trying to reach out so why do I keep running away?

i am too much, so i will never be enough.

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oh god, this is painfully true…. and such a unique writing style <3

I gained 1001 followers after I reblogged this the last time no joke

I mean, I’m calling bullshit but it’s worth a go

there’s no bullshit here, i for one got a couple new followers just this week

HOW THE FLYING FUCKNUGGET

Im just rebloging because of that last guys comment

thats not possible

Image

I didn’t get 28k more followers but I’m a newer blog and I think this is pretty good so 

I kinda don’t believe these tbh

Me too prove me wrong man

I honestly don’t think this’ll work, but I’ll try it.

Update: I GOT 15 NEW FOLLOWERS YESTERDAY!

Like every one else o don’t believe it but okay!!

magic post lets give it a go

¯\_(ツ)_/¯

This ain’t gonna happen but then again no harm no fowl

why lie i’m thirsty for follows

This needs to be seen, so…

i have shit luck with rb posts but silent prayer

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why not 😂

Anonymous asked:

i’m scared to be alone.

not alone in the sense of sitting in a room with only my company. not alone in the physical way, where only the cold air of an unheated room keeps me company, or the scratching of field mice in the very walls tickles my brain.

rather the isolation i feel in a group. the horrible, crushing loneliness i feel deep inside my heart like a hand tearing it apart. i don’t belong in the circle of jokes being made. my words do not pierce the minds of those around me. they fall unheard, to the ground, trampled by feet until even i have forgotten of their existence.

i am scared to have nobody to speak through the loneliness in my mind. to have nobody to be with me as i grow old and frail; nobody’s hand to hold when it’s cold at night and i’m scared of my own thoughts; no one’s arms to find a home in when i’ve grown to despise my own skin.

i am scared to be alone. i am scared to die alone. i am scared. i am, i am, i am, i -

i like writing stuff and had this in my notes for a while after having some horrific worries of dying alone 😎

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this is truly indescribable

i am trying not to drown
under the weight of my guilt
but every time i try
searching for the light
i just feel heavier.
it just keeps getting harder
to find the motivation
to keep treading water.
i don't know if i would even
recognize solid land anymore.
i don't know how i'm supposed
to find the strength to
pull myself out of something
that i know i deserve.
nobody mourns when the villain
gets swept under the current.
nobody has ever called me a hero
and not meant it as an insult.
-mars

i think im hurting. how do i know if i am? do i think so because of my fear? or that i know nobody understands? or that im just too tired?

i just want to rest. i have the energy in public. but whenever im alone, im happier and sadder. happier that nobody sees me, my true self, the vulnerability, that uncovers when my tears fall. but sadder that im lonely, that nobody can ever truly see me. that nobody will ever know the real me.

is it bad that i want a someone? someone to relate to? someone that has a similar pain? i never want to let anyone feel this, but i also never want to feel as alone.

i want a person in my life, who without asking questions, would hold me tight, someone who would cry with me, not speaking a single word, just letting me bury my head in their shoulder. i want to let go of the fear, the fear that they will know the real me.

i just wanna be vulnerable with someone, for once in my life. 

is that too much to ask?

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shedding fate

fate, you bastard let that word not fly from your foolish lips to drop deadly at the feet of hope a beaten drunkard bleeding scarlet spilling over white-washed daydreams to stain the dreams of better morrow with the tinge of guilt-ridden conscience speak not of fate some blind current drawing out into battering waves of circumstance an undertow we exhaust ourselves in to drown within sight of shore in view of youthful vigil yet farther than the void fate, what travesty to assign to cosmic pattern the intentions and sacrificial ritual of broken hearts in shattered world to steal from us our dignity to undermine the will and sorrow with a wave of a proverbial divine hand i deny fate desecrating shrines of predestination holding aloft all tearful choice to bear witness to the struggle of weighing options against a soul the human dilemma of ignorance wrapped in shiny paper tear fate to ribbons let the word fall as consequences to crush our "self as victim" exposing, clarity revealing responsibility which we bear sighing on our shoulders crushed by our inequities finally wielding dignity

two hearts

a delicate dance differentiating the doomed and the daring,

is composed between the hearts, the callous and the caring.

warm hearts weaponize cold hearts, cold hearts plague warm hearts,

warm hearts imprison warm hearts, cold hearts alleviate cold hearts.

but perhaps, even in the darkest night,

hearts shouldn’t be perceived as something so black and white…

sometimes, situations coerce warm hearts to be cold. sometimes,

cold hearts grow warm, with a few, adapting to be lukewarm, behold.

what remains the same, is that warm hearts appear vulnerable,

while being heavily more desirable, and resilient hearts seem cold,

while having their true intentions simply untold.

nonetheless,  their meanings unfurled, which type of heart,

makes it in the world? warm hearts, for being loved?

or cold hearts, for being respected?

perchance,

against my own hearts tenuous grasp on reality unexpected, 

can i be both loved AND respected?

  • by me

Nobody ever talks about how selfless it is to choose, over and over again, to not commit suicide. Nobody ever acknowledges the tremendous sacrifice suicidal people make every time we choose not to kill ourselves. When a person who is suffering so horribly that death seems like their best option decides not to take their one way out, and to instead remain in hell, day after day, month after month, year after year, because they don’t want to hurt the people they love, they are doing something extraordinary. Not killing yourself when it’s all you want to do is the purest act of love I can imagine. Dying for someone is easy - you don’t have to deal with any of the consequences, you have your moment of nobility and then it’s all over. But living for someone, when the simple fact of consciousness is literal torture for you? Every single suicidal person who ever made a choice to not kill themselves in a moment of misery is a goddamn hero in my eyes. Wanting to die and still surviving is an act of titanic courage and self-sacrifice. We deserve more credit for it.

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YES YES YES

The Good Place season one: Haha, what if someone was sent to heaven by accident and had to pretend to be a good person!

The Good Place by the end: Morality cannot be measured in a vacuum. While people should be held accountable for their actions, people are a product of their environment and the results of our actions are often beyond our control. Bad people can improve when they loved and supported. Also, the reality of death is essential to the enjoyment of life.

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REALITY OF DEATH IS ESSENTIAL TO THE ENJOYMENT OF LIFE

AND WHEN THE SUN STARTS TO SET AND THE SKY GOES COLD AAND IF THE CLOUDS GET HEAVY AND START TO FALL I REALLY NEED SOMEBODY TO CALL MY OWN I WANNA BE SOMEBODY TO SOMEONE YEAH I WANNA BE SOMEBODY TO SOMEONE

SOMEONE TO YOUUU SOMEONE TO YOUU SOMEONE TO YOUU

THE KINGDOM COME THE RISE, THE FALL THE SETTING SUN ABOVE IT ALL I JUST WANNA BE SOMEBODY TO YOU I JUST WANNA BE SOMEBODY TO SOMEWONE OH,

I WANNA BE SOMEBODY TO SOMEONE OH I WANNA BE SOMEBODY TO SOMEWONE OH I NEVER HAD NOBODY AND NO ROAD HOME I WANNA BE SOMEBODY TO SOMEONE

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AND IF THE SUN STARTS SETTING, THE SKY GOES COLD, THEN IF THE CLOUDS GET HEAVY AND START TO FALL, I RLLY NEED SOMEBODY TO CALL MY OWN, I WANNA BE SOMEBODY TO SOMEONE……

SOMEONE TO YOUOUOUOUOU, SOMEONE TO YOUUOUOUOU, SOMEONE TO YOUUUUUU, SOMEONE TO YOUUU…

someone to you………..

how does one go about returning childhood? 

girlhood,    boyhood,

it’s-all-not-quite-right-hood 

because blood stains, and so do cherries

like the bruised ones we found at the base of your neighbor’s tree

because now instead of rosy cheeks

we have rosy lips, and rosy wrists , and rosy fucking hip dips  

    and we were playing 

‘are you holy enough for gasoline?’

because when you worship the ashes

and honor the dust

you will realize you are Jupiter

and things can be so confusing for a little girl

especially for little girls that never wanted to be one

and that’s what cigarettes are for

so in earnest, we all confessed to that old magnolia tree

that we wished we were immortal, and that’s how we think it feels to be suicidal 

and that the neighbor boy fucks like an angel 

but the youth are    bloated  with life

it’s making them sluggish

kids don’t run from things as well as they used to. i ask

        : mother what am i?

: don’t worry about that just yet, darling.     you still have plenty of time to hate             yourself break yourself remake yourself

       and i was picking petals off a dead, magnolia and i    realized my heart has the same          

    anatomy as a dead flower

of course i’ll bite the hand that feeds me

   after all, it was feeding me  poison 

take your arsenic with sugar

smile   all your coy words down

and isn’t it fun to choke on your virtues?

 and i like to play a game of

will my   mother still love me if i 

let 

go