come--find--me - Tumblr blog

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My brother was diagnosed with depression years before I was, and because of that he started therapy years before I did.

I still remember when I was a young teen and he was playing a Nirvana song and he stopped it at this one line: “I miss the comfort of being sad”

He told me that when you start to get better, there’s a part of you that misses being sad and that if you start feeling that way you have to be extra extra aware and careful because if you indulge the feeling you’ll go down a self-destructive spiral

And even though that was years and years ago, I think about it all the time. Especially when I’m reading discourse on the idea of getting so attached to mental illness as an identity that you don’t want to improve things because you feel safe in it and don’t know who you are without it

I always think of that line “I miss the comfort of being sad” and my brother’s warning

[come--find--me]

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“I had an old wound once, but it is healing.”

— Sylvia Plath, from The Collected Poems; “Three Women,” wr. c. March 1962

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(you're) still in my veins. The moon still has that stare, the one that has meaning. The stare that has me (now) mistaken for the me then. But you're (gone), it's definitely bare beside me. (For) sometimes it's just a slight creak in the floor boards that I walk upon with your pasts' ghost, the (good) version of us.

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“Relax wild one. It’s not your job to be everything everyone needs, and you don’t have to be impressive to be loved. Stop trying so hard. Just show up … and be real with the world. That is enough.”

— Brooke Hampton (via perrfectly)

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