I Am Being A Hater, And I Am Being Queer, And I Am Being Autistic At A Family Event (and I Am Not The

Happy birthday Michael Holden

Reid Reading Solitaire by Alice Oseman

Possible spoilers below

I never thought I would identify with a character as strong as I do with Tori Spring. I've never thought I could be anyone who matters to someone, and I still don't now, even with the friends I've found after growing up learning how to be on my own, especially when second-guessing everything you feels like it's all you ever do. The backpack chapter reasonated with me, every time I get overwhelmed, I make a decision completely blown out of proportion to make something feel right about me, to stop the panic and racing thoughts.

Then there's overthinking what to say, around family and friends and strangers, what to feel, what your morals are and what separates you from your intrusive thoughts. Every thought you have in conversation is about what other people see in you and how you relate to the conversation in the slightest, making you aware you're such a bloody narcissist. Contradicting yourself often, which confuses everyone else and frustrates you the most. But while those people contradict themselves, you feel both the confusion and frustration, almost for the other person.

You try to keep it all down then, because while you know have everything, you feel like you need more. You can't believe it, you're already trying to earn what you have now, what else could you possibly want?

And then there is wondering, about the "why" when you want something. Why do you want it if the cost is too risky? What would you do to get it? Why would you work so hard if it might end badly for you?

The contradiction, when you need help, you don't want to be alone, but the company you have doesn't feel like what you need, you feel like a watcher of your own uninteresting life. Second guessing, (do I actually want this?) I don't know what I'm actually going to feel if I get what I think a moment of unexplored comfort would be. Maybe it will be suffocating. Maybe it isn't possible. Maybe I'd ruin it. That's when the wondering goes further.. What about your identity is truly yours? Which pieces have you handpicked from the people in your life, and what is actually inside you that makes you who you are? Maybe you don't want to ever know.

This all being said, the one thing I feel separated myself from Tori Spring's character- was that she doesn't like to read, my little dark heart sank from my body in dismay. I still love her though, enough to breathe through the book in one afternoon.

I just hugged my dad for the first time in my binder. I can't explain this wave of emotion that has just hit me. It's a side hug but it's the closest I've felt to my dad in years. I'm so fucking happy I want to just cry and let it out but I need to fucking breathe lmao.

If you don't support my identity you don't support me. As easy as that. I'd rather have little to no friends than friends that don't support who I am

I've been using tinder. I think I'm ready to jump now.

reblog if you’re one of them queers 💪💪💪

Credit: @taceplantae

My country's suicide hotline SUCKS ASS

I was having a panic attack and now I'm living out of fucking spite

OH MY WRITING CRISIS THANK GOD FOR CTRL+ Z I THOUGHT I LOST MY SUMMARY AND NEARLY KILLED MYSELF

There's so much skin torn off my lips that I don't even need to speak. But I can't help but wonder that when they look at me, do they know about what I won't tell them?