a fools guide to not wanting to die anymore

maramahan:

808lien:

colacharm:

wildlyannoyingdoofus:

colacharm:

by me, a fool who doesnt wanna die anymore 

  1. never make a suicide joke again. yes this includes “i wanna die” as a figure of speech. swear off of it. actually make an effort to change how you think about things.
  2. find something to compliment someone for at least 4 times a day. notice the little things about the world that make you happy, and use that to make other people happy.
  3. talk to people. initiate conversation as often as you possibly can. keep your mind busy and you wont have to worry anymore
  4. picture the bad intrusive thoughts in youe head as an edgy 13 year old and tell them to go be emo somewhere else
  5. if someone makes you feel bad most of the time, stop talking to them. making yourself hang out with people who drain you is self harm. stop it.

… 8|

That’s some pretty good advice. I don’t know what’s left of my humor after ‘guess I’ll just die’ jokes but it’s worth a shot.

Personally i went from “guess I’ll die” jokes to “IF I HAVE TO BE HERE FOR 5 MORE MINUTES I PROMISE YOU I WILL BUY JUST, AN ARRAY OF CLOTHES.” and other wild hyperbolic stuff. Just replace the death part with something ridiculous and off topic. Its very entertaining

This also works with calling myself things like stupid, worthless, trash, etc. Even if you do this jokingly to yourself, your brain still believes it, and keeps up the cycle. Seriously, I found that when I stopped saying these things about myself, even jokingly, it made a massive difference.

Here’s a tip I picked up from a friend that’s helped me a lot — replace self deprecating jokes with ironically self aggrandizing jokes

Like every time I trip and fall, instead of saying “l’m just a disaster human” I say “I’m the epitome of grace and beauty”

Or like, when I draw a picture I’m not 100% happy with, instead of saying “my art is trash” I say something like “you know I think it’s time we replaced the Mona Lisa”

When you do that you get to make a joke, but you’re ALSO getting practice building yourself up, y’know?

And eventually it becomes a reflex and you get so used to it that you can say nice stuff about yourself even when you AREN’T joking

coyote-prophet:

zephra85:

kiriamaya:

I wish I could more clearly explain to folks how “I have always been a girl” and “I didn’t figure out I was a girl until later in childhood” can be simultaneously true.

‘Cause like. We have this weird idea that, like, either you’ve “always known”, or you never really were to begin with. And I don’t get how one follows from the other? Like, it’s possible to be something without knowing you are that thing; in fact, for trans folks in this culture, it’s practically unavoidable.

A friend of mine once described it as “No I didn’t ‘always know’, but when I realized it I looked back and went ‘SUDDENLY EVERYTHING MAKES SENSE’ ”

This is literally it okay. Looking back and realizing that shit, wait, these aren’t new feelings. I’ve been feeling this for as long as I can remember. Now I just know WHY.

Does it count as a coping method to go and buy tweezers at 10pm and use taking the recycling as an excuse to go in the car?

And then to buy grapes as an excuse to go into the store?

And spend money you don’t have on another pair of tweezers when there are definitely 4 pairs in the house you just can’t find them?

And then say these tweezers will not leave the bathroom so they will never be lost (yeah right) as an excuse?

Yeah, didn’t think so.

failurestink:

gothicprep:

you guys realize that not accepting an apology is an option that people have, right? & that taking this option dznt automatically make someone an asshole? i know it’s shocking, but you can, like, not forgive ppl and be totally justified in doing so. i too was surprised when i first learned this, but if you think abt it, it makes a lot of sense!

also like if someone won’t take “I don’t forgive you” as an answer and starts guilt tripping you to forgive them, they have shown their true colours

hey ace/aro community:

rtlgbta:

quaxorascal:

rooster-teeths:

stop fucking using allosexual/alloromantic. allosexuel(le) is the french quebecois umbrella term for “queer/gay, and alloromantic stems from that. just call people romantic/sexual or non-ace/non-aro. 

it’s not fucking cool for those of us who are gay and french thanks :^)

As an add-on, the reason these terms are so important to the Quebecois community is the necessity for French terminology to be used in order to be taken seriously in the province, so using these terms takes away a necessary tool for the LGBTTQIA+ community in Quebec

Being ace, I did not know this, and use the term allosexual every once in a while. Here is a good reason to just say “sexual” or “romantic.” Let’s not take away this term.

-Fitzy

Did not know this! I will keep this in mind moving forward! Thank you for explaining this.
My only concern is that using the term “sexual” to refer to someone who isn’t asexual is a bit off? Like, you can be any sexual orientation and be sex repulsed or celibate or just not interested in sex? So calling someone like that sexual is also misleading and unhelpful?
It’s just a pretty loaded word, I feel.
I know it’s pretty difficult dealing with terminology and labels when there’s so many sexualities in the umbrella, but yeah…
If anyone wants to chat about this, I’d love to, but for now I’m gonna suggest the use of zsexual for people who don’t identify as asexual? (Please let me know if that’s shitty too)

Things You Said – 23.

jawsandbones:

Recommended Listening: Outside Your Locked Heart – Wixel

things you said when I began to trust you


Hawke hums as she pulls the
wine bottle from her lips, passing it back to Fenris. She was the only regular
visitor to his mansion. Tonight she had brought dinner, a medley of things
cooked by Leandra. Fenris brushes back his hair as he eases into the chair,
took a sip. “Your hair is getting long,” Hawke says from the bench, her elbow on
her knee, chin in her hands. Fenris takes a section of his bangs, holds it
before him.

“I suppose,” he says, setting
the wine bottle beside his chair.

“You should let me cut it,”
Hawke says as she leans back, stretches, her arms in the air, eyes squeezed
shut. She gives a contented sigh as she eases back into a relaxed position. “I
cut Carver’s hair all the time and he doesn’t look awful.” Fenris chuckles,
shakes his head.

“I am offering,” Hawke smiles. It’s not too long before she has Fenris
in a chair, in just his tunic, a towel around his neck. She sits on the table
behind him, bare feet on the edges of his chair, scissors in her hands. He
flinches at the first touch of her hand at his hair.

She doesn’t start cutting yet.
She simply eases him into the touch. She threads fingers through his hair,
light scratches against his scalp, until his shoulders relax. Only then does he
feel her gather a few locks, hear the scissors coming together. “Who are you
taking to the Deep Roads?” He asks, closing his eyes. The crackle of the fire,
the snip of the scissors. Hawke’s thoughtful hum.

“Carver would likely murder me
in my sleep if I don’t take him. Varric for sure. Anders for if things go bad,”
she says at last, brushing away loose pieces of hair from his neck.

“You should bring me,” Fenris
says.

“Oh?” She says, amusement clear
in her voice. “And why is that?”

“I owe you a debt. The Deep
Roads are dangerous,” he says. He hears her put the scissors down on the desk
beside her. His eyes open as her arms wrap around his neck, her face appearing
beside his as she hugs him.

“Why Fenris, you do care!” He
grunts, but says nothing, his cheeks coloring, and a hand on her arm. “You’ve
already paid that debt,” she says softly, “almost every day since. The Deep
Roads are going to be miserable. I’m sure you don’t want to be stuck down there
with me.” She leans back, releasing him from her embrace, moving back to her
task.

He’s been sleeping in his
armor. This is one of the few times he is out of it. The only time he is out of
it in front of another person. A mage, of all things. Hawke. A friend? Even he
isn’t sure. His ears twitch as hair falls free, tickles against his neck. He
has his back to her, a sharp thing in her hand. He should be… fire crackling,
snip of the scissors, and Hawke’s occasional hum of a long forgotten lullaby.
He closes his eyes once again. It’s safe, in a way he’s never felt before.

“You should take me,” he says
firmly. She laughs softly under her breath.

“Alright Fenris, I’ll think
about it.”