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The Double Image, Anne Sexton//Portrait of the Illness as Nightmare, Leila Chatti//Phaedra’s Love, Sarah Kane

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being an older sibling is like. you've never known a life without me. mom yelled at me and it taught her she never wanted to yell at you. I painted my room purple and grey and then you did too. we live in the same house but I haven't spoken to you in months. I don't know your favorite color. I saw it was going to rain so I picked you up from school on my way home so your books wouldn't get wet. i was so worried when you woke up sick when you were three. you don't remember being sick. mom and dad made their worst mistakes with me and I'm glad they didn't make them with you. I'm doing everything for the first time so you won't be in the dark. I don't know any of your friend's names anymore. I used to know them all. if something happens to mom and dad you won't have to worry because everything will fall to me. you don't like to be home alone but even if you don't see me just knowing I'm there makes you feel better. at least that's what mom told me. you still give me jars to open for you because you can't quite get them. I only see you during dinner. i'd never even think about missing one of your concerts. I stand at the counter when I eat and now you do, too. when offered a selection of books you picked the same one I did when i was your age. I'm terrified you compare yourself to me. I love you. I don't know if you like me. I want you to. mom says dinner's ready

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Growing up with a chronic illness, especially an undiagnosed one, is such a hard experience. You think that the fatigue and pain that you experience is “normal” just because you’ve always had it. You frustrate your parents by asking them if you can stay home from school so often. Your teachers, school nurses, and parents wonder why you complain about physical symptoms so often. You’re constantly in and out of the doctor’s office, but the visits rarely yield any answers. You don’t truly realize that you were sick throughout your childhood and not just “lazy” until you’re diagnosed with a chronic illness as a teenager or adult. 

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“I am the opposite of forgiveness. I am all rage & shriek & flame.”

— Blythe Baird, For the Rapists Who Called Themselves Feminists, found in If My Body Could Speak

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me: god i’m always tired

mom: it’s because you don’t excersize

me and my 6 tiring mental illnesses: yeah maybe

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Chronic illness is having no idea if you're sick or not

Do I have a contagious flu or am I just having a flare up? I don't know, I always feel like this.

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my body really do have the check engine light on all the time doesn’t it

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Debbie Reynolds

April 1, 1932 - December 28, 2016

“Manic depressive is a disease that was not diagnosed then, so nobody knew what was going on. It’s a constant battle that takes all of us to assure her that she’s loved and that we’ll get her. It’s hard, that’s the hardest part.” […] “There have been a few times when I thought I was going to lose Carrie. I’ve had to walk through a lot of my tears, but she was worth it. I would say that Carrie and I have finally found happiness. I admire her strength and survival, I admire that she is alive, that she has chosen to make it. It would have been easy to give up and give in and to keep doing drugs. I always feel – as a mother does – that I protect her, who will do that when I’m gone?”

Carrie Fisher

October 21, 1956 - December 27, 2016

“It is very frustrating for her because inside, my mom is the same person, and she doesn’t want to retire. She does not want to retire. Performing gives her life, it feeds her in a way that family cannot. That’s why I think we’ve always been frustrating, because people aren’t cooperative, audiences are… When you’re her, they are.” […] “At a time in her life when a lot of people are getting ready not to be, my mother is better than ever. I believe my mother knows now but if she doesn’t, it would be good if she did, that I take her advice, that I follow her example, that I respect who she is … and if I’m like her in any way then I’m happy that I am.”

… may they rest in peace ♥

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“Grown-ups love figures. When you talk to them about about a new friend, they never ask questions about essential matters. They never say to you: ‘What does his voice sound like? What games does he prefer? Does he collect butterflies?’ They ask you: ‘How old is he? How many brothers does he have? How much does he weigh? How much money does his father earn?’ It is only then that they feel they know him.”

— The Little Prince (Antoine de Saint-Exupery)

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If your immune system is broken clap your hands 👏👏

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me: I will do things when I am less tired

me: *never becomes less tired*

me: oh no

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Saying “my girl” is probably the cutest thing ever.

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i wish i could quietly just stop existing without hurting anyone

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remember, my child, you are much more powerful than you will ever know.

does the wind ask permission of the leaves if it may blow?

does the ocean ask the sand how deep it should send its waves?

and in those truths, nor should a goddess ask a mortal how far her power extends or where it can reach.

you are everything, my love. 

you are the warm heart that eternally beats at the earth’s core just as you are the frigid cold that seeps into your bones if you dare to stay on winter’s peak.

you are a divine mixture of all the infinities that have devoured themselves for the chance to create you.

you hold more possibilities, more potential in your pinky finger than most mortals do in their entire bodies - do not let them try to cage such a heavenly soul as yours.

your wrath will be enough to level cities, destruction the likes of which this incarnation of the universe has never seen, should you choose that path.

but remember, my darling, despite your capacity for chaos, you are also kind; do not let the world turn your heart to stone. cherish the strength you were born with but nurture it with compassion and love. you will be tempted by the darkness, and though you may cross into it, you must never overstay your welcome. always return to the right side of love, of yourself.

do not place your power anywhere outside of you; you will not see it returned to you safely.

guard your heart, my dearest one.

because the world of men will stop at nothing to give your still-beating heart as an offering to placate the demons they sold their souls to.

— the truths a goddess whispers to her child 

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that oldest sister feel when you just accept that any task not deliberately directed at someone in particular is going to be your responsibility