sometimes i cry because of people

A Giant Rant on Self-Diagnosed Autistics

Dear retarded teen,

Please stop taking the things from my mental disorder that are considered “cute/quirky” to make yourself look special or important.

I’m mainly referring to stimming and special interests. Let’s start with special interests, shall we?

You can’t have tons of special interests. “But I do” you cry. Well, do you know why Autistic people have special interests? Sometimes minor changes such as moving between two activities, can be distressing so Autistic people stick to one or two subjects. Keeping that in mind, why would an Autistic person have more that one special interest? Is it maybe because it sounds more “important” than hobbies? Hmmm.

Now, onto stimming. This is the one that pisses me off the most.

Stimming is not cute, stimming is not fun. Stop turning stimming into a trend.

I keep seeing posts of people stimming. Most of you are so clearly thinking that’s it’s cute and quirky. It isn’t, it’s abnormal and something done to cope.

It calms us actual Autistics so we can calm down and focus on what we need to. Stop romanticizing it, thanks.

Friday Positivity #14/15

Don’t let others’ words determine your own self worth, and I know it can be hard but you’re not any less beautiful for breaking sometimes. You’re allowed to cry! You can yell at the world! We all have our bad days, but good times are ahead. You will end up so much better than the people that have hurt you because you’ll know how to be kind and how to be strong. You can make it.

I’m sorry if I seem different sometimes… if there are times it feels like I’m not the same person any more – but the truth is I’m not.
Living with pain changes you. It’s exhausting… Every morning I wake up and I go to war… with my body, with my mind, with the world around me. Every day is a struggle to keep my life as close to normal as possible whilst fighting negativity and despair. I try my best to stay positive, if not for myself then for the people around me but it’s difficult to smile sometimes when all I really want to do is cry.
I’m not asking for your help – but what I do need is your continuing love and support. So please understand that those times when I may not seem like myself it’s because I’m smiling on the outside when there is a whole world of pain going on inside you can’t see or understand…. So just stand by me – because knowing you’re there no matter what makes everything that little bit easier to bear and makes all the difference in the world.
—  Ranata Suzuki | Living With Pain

i’m cute but psycho, she says. she smiles at me.

in my backpack are sixteen emergency items for panic attacks, for shutdown mode, for in case i can’t stop urges i can’t control, in case i am in trouble. i have under my bed razors i can’t bring myself to throw out, even though i’ve been recovered for ages. i forget what i said to him after i say it. i don’t mean any of it, but maybe i did. am i steering this ship or am i just a passenger on it.

i put the hot in psychotic, she says. i hear her laughing.

i can’t feel my lips. back when the hallucinations were bad i didn’t tell anyone but him, because i knew what was happening. when i woke up in a hospital i tried to kill the doctor. my therapy group was full of wonderful people. the girl who was schizophrenic had a beautiful singing voice. i can still hear her crying sometimes.

normal people scare me, he says. i know it’s from tv.

we faltered on the edge of bad things. when he tried to burn his house down he didn’t know what he was doing. he’s being charged as an adult, they tell me. when he saw me looking he said it was his responsibility. the girl with split personalities is sweet. her trauma rendered her largely unable to speak. i sit outside with the other three who raid our own bodies and we pluck flowers and play a game: what if i’d been born normal. what if i had been given executive functions. what if i hadn’t been given depression in bucketfuls until it overcame my lungs. my parents don’t know how to look at me anymore and neither do my friends. they all tiptoe around me like i will break at any second.

try yoga. it’s just a phase. we all feel that way. you have so much to be thankful for. someone has it worse. mentally ill people are dangerous. therapists aren’t real doctors and by extension you have no real problems. go for a run. just choose happiness. you’re not really sick. you’re faking it.

i lace my shoes. it’s nice to have laces back. i will try to work out without letting myself get back into my disorder, but we all know how well that will go. i have been working out since i was six years old. yoga is on my schedule but it’s never active enough. there’s a good chance that out of the people in my group, one of them is being taken advantage of. we are so quick to give ourselves out for the safety of others. the boy who, like me, has burn scars on his skin - he tells me his girlfriend likes that he’s sick. it makes him sensitive. the girl who is schizophrenic gets picked up by her father. i know he hits her. she says she kind of deserves it.

sadness makes for good art, she says. i don’t look up.

when they ask me where i’ve been i say i’ve been out of town. i feel fine thanks for asking. i don’t know who i am when nobody’s looking. i don’t know if i’m even real anymore. i don’t know how to get close to people because they’ll end up finding out and hating me for it, or i’ll be a burden, or they won’t know how to handle it. my family never brings up the hospital again. sometimes i think i dreamed it. 

you won’t find love until you love yourself, he warns. it’s been a long day.

i’m so alone.


I’ve let this go on for too long.

INFPs did not invent sadness, nor do they cry all the time. INFPs are bodies of hope in spite of the sadness around them. I like to think that they invented hope and optimism, because despite the horrible things they know of ourselves, they believe the best about others.

Maybe INFPs are fragile for good reason. Don’t you think that a ripe apple tree in the middle of a rotten orchard would tend to be a little distraught sometimes? The world is an ugly place. Guess what? Despite all of this, the stereotyped cry-baby of the MBTI would go there to the end for people they’ve never met.

INFPs did not invent sadness. They invented hope.

sometimes i cry bc in season 2 giles said to buffy “to forgive is an act of compassion… it’s not done because people deserve it. it’s done because they need it” and buffy subsequently becomes one of the most forgiving characters ever like let me live

and i can promise to be there for you
but i can’t promise that i’ll be happy for you
because when i make my promises i keep them
and “i swear” isn’t something that i throw around easily
so when i promised that i loved you
i wasn’t lying
because i don’t shove my infatuation down the throat of every person who makes me feel less dead
and i know you’ll swear to god that you meant it
but you also swore to god you were going to stay
and sometimes people make promises that they know they can’t keep
and sometimes they make them only because they sound good in the moment
and sometimes people leave when they said they wouldn’t
and sometimes people cry when they’re happy
and sometimes the world is a little bit backwards
but “i promise” was never something i said without thinking it through
so when i promised that i’d always be waiting
i meant it
—  you promised me forever, but you’re not here

you know what i still can’t wrap my brain around? the fact that there were probably hundreds of posts of people saying they recognized themselves in even, or recognized people they knew in even, that they saw what was never really confirmed until episode 8. 

just, the subtlety and carefulness and deftness to which henrik takes his role, the way he portrays even’s mental illness in a way that is both so incredibly obvious but also. not. because sometimes the signs are all there but we can’t quite put our finger on if those signs are truly what we think but the feeling is so undeniably strong so it must be? and then it is. 

just… it’s amazing how well henrik has portrayed even’s character, how he has made him into a whole person, with so much intricacy and depth and beauty, not defined by his mental illness, but still affected by it because who could not be. and for everyone to have recognized it so early on, before we even really saw all the signs, it’s amazing. 

A few things I’ve learned in life

1. just because they are older, that doesn’t mean they are better than you

2. just because they are older does not make them “more right” than you

3. Always listen to the other side of the story

4. Diffusing situations with comedy works a lot of the time, but sometimes it doesn’t 

5. Its okay to cry for someone, to cry at funerals, to cry because something is sad. Crying doesn’t make you weak it makes you human

6. But also not crying is fine too

7. some people will just not like you, its not always your fault and sometimes you can’t fix it

8. Everyone has a story, if you look at everyone like book you haven’t read yet then life becomes far more interesting 

9. School is important, but not the most important

10. You should take mental health days

11. Don’t let people give you shit for taking care of yourself, you are important 

12, You’ve probably changed someone’s life in some way, no matter how small. 

13. If you love someone you should probably tell them, even if its platonically, people still need to hear that they are loved 

14. Sometimes frienships don’t last, its no ones fault. Sometimes it just happens

15. Helping people does feel good, 

16. Smile at people, compliment them,  maybe just say hi

17. You will regret something, but you can’t waste your life thinking about what you regret. 

people saying that yuri reacted the way he did to viktor crying because he thought those were happy tears is the biggest fucking reach i’ve ever seen in this fandom (and ive seen a lot). there’s NOTHING in that scene that would suggest this. yuri knew those were angry/sad tears before he lifted up viktor’s hair. 

viktor says this in a CLEARLY upset tone

yuri’s not 12, he knew what was going on because these were literally the first words viktor says after the whole ‘lets end this’ speech. he knew what he was doing. stop babying this motherfucker. He disregarded viktor’s and his own feelings because he didn’t want to kill viktor as a competitive skater (yuri says this in the episode) by having him coach him another year. vik is already 28. yuri was trying to appear selfish while being selfless. He was putting his foot down and that’s why he came across cold because he knew viktor wasn't going to leave him otherwise.

ur favs can be assholes sometimes, its okay, its not the end of the world lmao 

just like when viktor tried to light a fire under yuri’s ass in ep.7 by trying to emotionally manipulate him into getting motivated to win. characters are meant to grow and learn from their wrongs. yall trying to soften this is so annoying, especially when the scene and the entire series has been crystal clear about what’s going on in yuri’s head on and off the ice and reaching to these conclusions are baffling to me.


sometimes I just look at bts and cry, because the thought of them being adored by millions of people and being so successful makes me feel like a proud mom (or like a proud little sister I guess because i’m younger than all of them lol)

Sometimes I have days where everything seems to go wrong in every area of my life all at once and all I want to do is cry.
I don’t know if it’s from frustration or anger or just every imaginable emotion I keep bottled up inside trying to express itself all at once… but whatever it is, that urge to break down in tears is overwhelming.
I never do… at least, not at the time and certainly not in front of anybody else because I know I can’t. I have too much riding on me… there’s too many people that rely on me and not enough time for the luxury of a breakdown. But I would do anything to be allowed to fall apart just once and have somebody else pick up the pieces.
But that’s not who I am. I’m the strong one. I’m the one who supports everyone else and fights to keep everything together.
I’m the kind of person who cries and pretends they don’t. I act like I’m invincible when in reality I cry alone in my car, in bathrooms and when other people fall asleep. I’m the one who pulls myself together every time when in reality… I’m falling apart inside and would give just about anything for somebody to hold me together…
—  Ranata Suzuki  “Falling apart inside”

Je te promets.

I will love you when you’re sad. When your clothes pile up on the floor because you have no energy to fold them, I will fold them for you. I will bring you breakfast in bed, kiss you even though your lips are sticky with jam. I will listen to you cry, and I will wipe your tears away when you’ve purged yourself of the darkness inside you.

I will love you when I am afraid to. I will trust you even though sometimes it scares me, because you’re too damn good to be true. I will hold your hand proudly even though nasty people in this world will think we’re disgusting for doing so. I will look God in the face and tell Him that I love you even if I’m condemned for doing so. I will burn in hell for eternity for you.

I will love you when you’re angry and I’m angry too. I want you to yell at me. I want you to tell me what’s wrong, what I did, even if it means you have to scream every word. I will get mad, I may yell back, but this does not mean that I don’t love you. Eventually, we will sit down with two mugs of hot chocolate and stay up until the sun peeks over the horizon, and we will apologize, but we will talk through the problem. I will love you through these arguments.

I will love you when you can’t get out of bed. I will slip under the sheets beside you and hold you close. We’ll research outlandish conspiracy theories until we’re convinced that every celebrity is a clone, and then we’ll laugh about it because how weird are we to believe that?

I will love you when we’re old. You’ll have crow’s feet around your eyes and sag in strange places, but I’ll still think you’re so beautiful and I won’t regret one second of my life. We’ll reminisce about our pasts and plan our futures. We’ll sit by the fire and warm our stiff bones, cats purring in our laps, coffee in my hand, hot chocolate in yours. I won’t be able to take my eyes off you.

Je te promets que je t'aimerai toujours.

—  A Promise | s.p.r.
907) I can't stop crying because I hate realizing how much the people in the world don't give a shit about the environment, animals, and even each other. Every second that goes by the world is being destroyed and nobody cares, sometimes is so overwhelming to care.

You know, it’s weird. Sometimes, people are okay with me being an abuse survivor (like I need their permission or something) until I start being too loud about it. I talk about it too much, cry about it too much, get angry about it too much.

Maybe I inconvenience them because I don’t let them get away with romanticizing abuse, I don’t let them tell me to “get over it” or “I feel like that sometimes too!” or “you can’t hate them forever.” I won’t let them tell me to heal. I won’t let them “help me”, because I don’t need help - I just wanna be able to live and cope, I don’t need anybody to fix me, and that’s so damn hard for them to believe.

Non-survivors will sometimes accept our existence, but only under their conditions, and definitely not if it inconveniences them.

I’d read the things people had written about giving someone everything only to have it thrown back in their face. I’d heard the songs warning me not to believe everything he’d said. I knew I wasn’t supposed to get attached but I did anyway because I thought you were different. It’s been months and I still cry about you sometimes but one day I won’t.
—  he left when he promised he wouldn’t.

there’s a disorder known as sensory processing disorder or sensory integration disorder

it’s different for everyone, but there are two main types:

hyposenstive, where some or all senses are underdeveloped. i admittedly know nothing about this.

hypersensitive, where some or all senses are over developed- you could say our absolute threshold is jacked up.

for people with hypersensitive, like me, regular noises never fade out. gum chewing might make us cry. people eating can send us into a nervous breakdown. a keyboard clicking might cause us to lose our temper.

or maybe it’s touch. i can’t wear jeans because the seam constantly bothers me. i had an anxiety attack at school because i could feel the buttons on my shirt. i can’t eat many foods because of the texture they have.

sometimes it’s smell or sight that bothers us. i’ve been known to pick up on smells that nobody else could until we were much closer. the lingering smell of rubber in a remodeled classroom has kept me from working. slight movement in the corner of my eye is enough to distract me for an hour.

even taste can be affected. this sometimes comes in handy, like the time i could tell that some cheese dip was spoiled, but it also means that my diet is limited.

all this to say, PLEASE, educate yourselves on this disorder, which is commonly paired with anxiety disorders, autism, Aspergers and panic disorders

and if someone asks you to quiet down or tells you that something odd is bothering you, don’t brush it off as being a dick. they might have this disorder, and it’s hell.

How Snape died still makes me cry sometimes, even years after the end. It’s not “Always” that does it either. Remember how Dumbledore chose to motivate him when he was suicidal, saying “What use would that be to anyone?” It was as if Snape’s entire sense of self-worth equated only to how useful he was. When he dies, he doesn’t even try to save himself. He completes his last task, and then he’s no longer useful, so he lets himself die. That struck me as so gut-wrenchingly sad, because how many people like that have I known? How many people out there have died in the dark, believing that their lives are worthless?

The worth of your life isn’t something that’s measured out. You ALWAYS have worth.

Trans people are awesome

My favorite thing to do is call a trans person by the right pronouns, and how it makes them so happy sometimes to the point where they cry, because they have to deal with so many people calling them the wrong pronouns. I love calling trans boys handsome, gender fluid/neutral people beautiful, and trans girls pretty. Because everyone is beautiful, but trans people are spectacular. I hate people putting them down because the trans community is awesome. I love knowing trans people who support me, because they always know I’ll do the same.