When You Remember That Niall Wrote Multiple Songs About Girls Who Like To Have One Night Stands, Who

What happened with Achan how it led to self harm.

Me feeling like I don't belong anywhere, nowhere feels tight cause conflicts in both places and passively wanna die.

Me being here doesn't make any difference to anybody, life will continue as usual, I'm not important.

how do i prevent a bpd episode that i can see coming? ive been distracting myself for days, keeping myself occupied, overreating, making an effort to keep in touch with people and reaching out to them, but i can still feel the hollow sensation, can still feel my chest caving in... i dont want to fall into an episode now of all times

me, finally does something that I want to :

my family : you should think about us, the society, the world, that random stranger on the street and not just do what you like, why are you so self centered/you shouldn't do that, it's wrong, do it the way I told you to/do what I like, not simply whatever you want

me : 👁️ 👄 👁️

It also kinda perpetuates a negative/toxic view of romantic relationships. Like, y'know how people most of the time talk about their partner in a degrading way (not gender specific, this is gender neutral) - not just when they're annoyed at them, most of the time. It's mostly snarky.

Married couples are the WORST. They talk about how they're "trapped" now blah blah blah (kindaaa gender specific because cis men tend to do it more). Just take the WhatsApp family group forwards - how many "jokes" are made about physically hurting or even killing their spouse?

There's so much bitterness. Majority of the people roll their eyes and shit on couples who post lovey dovey stuff on social media, but to be really honest, I shit on the people who talk shit about their partner openly on social media. Including 'bashing the ex' vaala posts. Like, no, just no. That's immature and disrespectful. It's better to be cheesy than hateful.

It's as if once you get into a romantic relationship your individuality, your freedom, your space, your likes and dislikes are automatically gone/irrelevant - that's how it's portrayed is what I mean, when people say stuff like this. And that just shows how many people are in unhealthy relationships but don't realise it's unhealthy, they're normalising unhealthy patterns and not even educating themselves (and/or others) on how a healthy relationship should be. A healthy relationship shouldn't feel like a trap or any of the above. It's supposed to make you feel _free, safe, comfortable and confident with yourself_, supposed to make you feel good inside.

edit : and this is from a person on the aro-spec

wish I could leak my own nudes anonymously so that my family would finally stop fucking slut shaming and body policing me ://////

I was fourteen when I first read 50 Shades of Grey, or as Catherine Scott puts it — that book. What I appreciate most about it is not the spank-bank material it gave me, but the world it introduced me to; the hole that took me to my own wonderland. As my kink journey - in theory, mind you - progressed, I discovered aspects of myself I don’t think even therapy would’ve helped me access; the way I needed to be loved, the way I needed to be taken care of, the way I needed to feel small to grow, the way I needed to give myself over to reclaim autonomy.

Kink took me to regression, regression to self-awareness, and self-awareness to a yearning I sometimes cannot contain inside my body because of how large and all-consuming it is, how much space it occupies, and how it swallows me whole, especially on my worse days.

The question “how could non-sexual kink possibly be therapeutic?” has many, many answers; it is the hope I get when I imagine how I would no longer have to be responsible for myself; the relief I feel, knowing that someone wants the best for me, and letting them take over my entire being would help keep me alive; the knowledge that even though I am capable of taking care of myself, it is too much of a burden, too much of a leach sucking my battery, and so I choose to give it away, pass it over.

Someone who would squeeze my thigh, and tap it twice to indicate I need to lower my voice in public spaces, instead of an explicit “reduce your volume”, inadvertently triggering my rejection sensitivity dysphoria; someone who would wrap me up in a blanket and make me tea, cuddling me, crushing my body, until I come back from an episode; someone to make sure I can do the things I want to do, that inhibition due to my executive dysfunction wouldn’t make me a completely useless person; someone whose idea of what is best for me is my idea of what’s best for me; someone who would take care of me, when it hurts too much to take care of myself; someone I trust enough to kneel in front of because I feel shame choking me when I imagine myself submitting to anyone else; someone who chooses to stay; someone I can be a child with without fear of annoyance or judgement; someone I can be awkward with, weird with, loud with; someone whose rationality never hinders or limits their emotionality; someone to give me a healthy alternative to the unsafe pain my coping mechanism provides; someone to provide the sensation of hurt without causing me harm; someone whom I feel safe with even while constrained, blindfolded, all senses switched off; someone to gently squeeze my neck when my thoughts are too loud; someone to take over conversations when I face a sudden bout of energy loss; someone whose energy is dominating, all-encompassing; someone who would be my advocate, my shield, and sword; someone gentle, someone soft, someone who would never let me give up on myself.

Regression ≠ kink, for myself.

-kpm ©

I feel fucking pathetic, it's the new years and I'm sitting on the bathroom floor and crying fuck

my social dysphoria acts up every time my cousin (9 years old) talks to me about bras, boobs and the such because it sounds like "girl talk" and it makes me feel sick, and I wish I were a boy sometimes (I'm NOT trans, I'm an agender girl, I say this because I don't want her to feel this comfortable having girl talks with me) so that she wouldn't be so open. sometimes to irritate me/annoy me, she describes how she imagines me with a saree and mailaanji and long hair and pottu and ornaments and stuff and I feel like crying and puking at the same time because I hate it I hate it I hate it, I'm not a girl I'm not a girl I'm not a girl stop stop atop

I feel this heavy nauseating feeling in my chest, throat and tummy when I hear anything akin to that, it's so revolting and I think I'm out of words to describe how fucking horrible I feel when she does stuff like this. It's not funny, gosg, it's NOT FUCKING FUNNY STO STOP STIO

And eventhough I tell her ewww and to stop saying stuff like that, she doesn't take me seriously, she's like, it's not realll, I'm just imagining it. and everyone wants me to dress decently because I'm a girl and I shouldn't be showing so much skin, revealing my body parts and other bullshit like that. AND ALL THIS IS TRIGGERRING MY SOCIAL DYSPHORIA AND FUCK EVERYTHING

I don't want to have "girl" talks with my cousins, I don't mind answering their questions - I'm one of the only people who give proper answers, so she asks me - but I don't like how it seems as a "bonding" moment, because it's not, it's not, it's not. There's nothing to bond over, I'm not like her, I'm not a girl and I hate this so fucking much. I hate when I'm considered a part of "women", and that when I grow up I may become a "wife" (I'm talking about the terms my family uses), and it sickens me. I feel disgusted and I hate it.

But I love my body. I don't gender my body, it doesn't have a gender, it's just my body, with it's parts. I don't want to be considered a girl - the identity of a girl - just because I have boobs and a vagina. I am agender. Call me a girl, but don't consider me one. Demigirl makes more sense, but I don't want to considered a girl even if it's in half. I'm agender, but the only "feminine" label I can tolerate is 'girl', maybe because it refers to young kids? and it alludes to not having an openly sexed, "female" body, but 'women' alludes to being a mature female, and it rubs me the wrong way - I don't know if this'll make sense to someone else, but it makes sense to me and I wish that's all that matters. And that is all that matters. But I want others to consider me agender too. URGH.

If you don't support me at my-

-being loudly queer

-feminist rants

-passionate lectures about my interests

-therapy talk and mental breakdowns

you don't deserve me at my-

-certificates

-positive recognition from authority figures

-published articles

-accomplishments/wins

I won't show you the good parts if you're not accepting or supportive of my "bad parts"; i don't want anyone's 'congrats' if it doesn't also come with 'i hear you'; i don't want to be seen when there's a light shining on me if you turn your cheek when there's a dark stormy cloud above my head; before asking me- 'why didn't you tell us, this is such a good thing', remember the time when you said- 'don't speak about yourself too much, it's not appropriate'; don't chastise my silence if you've ever ignored my voice. fin.

people : happy gandhi jaya-

me : no thank you