Wednesday, March 11, 2015


Hello blog world,

Do people even keep blogs anymore? It's turning into something different, I think. In any case, I don't feel much like posting pictures of my outfits anymore. I wear good ones almost every day, but I guess I wear them in public and get as much satisfaction out of that as I need. Or maybe I'm just more satisfied with knowing about them myself, rather than documenting them. Or maybe I don't really care anymore about outfits and stuff.

What I do have a lot of, is opinions. So maybe I'll try and document those more instead of keeping them inside my head like I usually do.

It's been a strange couple of months. It seems to me like mental health issues are flaring up at the moment, not just for me, but for a lot of people around me. Is it a ripple effect? Or do people just do things at the same time. Idk.

Even thinking about it now, it's hard to write about mental health things. It's hard to talk about them, too. There's a sense of shame, and guilt. Like you're hiding a dirty secret and admitting it will push all your friends and family away. What is that? It's so fucking strange. Mental health issues are widespread and by now should be well documented and known. It shouldn't feel like you're oversharing or being dramatic or complaining. It shouldn't be that hard.

But it is, for some reason. Why am I writing this? Well, whenever I read a personal post on tumblr or a blog post or article about anxiety or depression, it makes me feel better. Not because it's a nice thing to have, but because before the internet times, unless you had some very knowledgeable friends to talk to, there was nobody to teach you about these things. I didn't know about them in high school. I thought they were just bad feelings and being emo. I thought my behaviour was a personality defect. I thought I was just a shit person, tbh.

How does this translate to now?

Well, I'm a twenty six year old woman now. I'm doing things I'm proud of, or trying, and I'm fairly happy with where I'm at in terms of my life. That's how I know my anxiety is real. I have not a lot to be anxious about, and I still am. I am a good person, and yet there are times when I really, truly wish I could crawl out of my body and become a spirit floating around. Or walk around with a cardboard box on my head, as I often fantasize about. This is a real thing, that I can't help, that follows me around.

But it's good to realise, I guess, that it's not just me being shit. That it's something else affecting me, making my thoughts race around, making my face red and my words jumble together. That's not just something I could stop if only I were more confident, or calmer.

I guess I'm writing this because, even though it's very hard to think about people I actually know reading this, I wish someone would have told me this earlier. That it's a thing, and that you feel different because you actually are different. I was so hung up on not being ~dramatic~ or acting like I was special, that I failed to realise the ways I was different and figure out the reasons why.

It would be a lot easier if we could just wear tshirts indicating the things we wish were just common knowledge, like "I have anxiety - that's why I'm being weird right now!"

But anyway, thank the gods for the internet, and tumblr, and rookie, and all that stuff which makes it so much better for teenage girls and adult women these days. Even if it doesn't solve your problems, it makes you feel a lot less alone in them.

That's all, I have no pics to share, I've mostly been taking selfies recently. Have a nice day, hope this helped you in some way.

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