m-isdemeanour

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The very end of fall in Montana.

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I’m daydreaming of the day when we can spend Christmas Day together. You can cook all day and I’ll help when I can, but mostly I’ll just wrap my arms around you from behind and nibble on your ears and neck. We can have a quiet meal together, then slow dance to classic Christmas songs in the living room with the lights turned low. When we’re sleepy from the meal and the dancing, we can curl up on the couch and watch Christmas movies until I fall asleep, nuzzled against your chest. Baby, all I want for Christmas is you.

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https://instagram.com/p/BV_cwX2lCRk/

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kids have no concept of anything. i walked into my kindergarten class and one kid asked me what my name was. when i said miss jones, he said “i like that name. did you know i’m in love with you”

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Never give up on someone with mental illness. When “I” is replaced by “we”, illness becomes wellness.

Shannon L. Alder

(via words-of-emotion)

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https://instagram.com/p/BV_cwX2lCRk/

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One day, she’s going to know. She’ll know your birthday, your middle name, where you were born, your star sign, and your parents names. She’ll know how old you were when you learned to ride a bike, how your grandparents passed away, how many pets you had, and how much you hated going to school. She’ll know your eye colour, your scars, your freckles, your laugh lines and your birth marks. She’ll know your favourite book, movie, candy, food, pair of shoes, colour, and song. She’s going to know why you’re awake at 5am most nights, where you were when you realised you’d lost a good friend. She’s going to know your phobias, your dreams, your fears, your wishes, and your worries. She’s going to know about your first heartbreak, your dream wedding, and your problems with your parents. She’ll know your strengths, weaknesses, laziness, energy, and your mixed emotions. She’s going to know about your love for mayonnaise, your dream of being famous when you were five, your need to quote any film you know all the way through, and your fear of growing older. She’ll know your bad habits, your mannerisms, your stroppy pout, your facial expressions, and your laugh like it’s her favourite song. The way you chew, drink, walk, sleep, fidget and kiss. She’s going to know that you’ve already picked out wedding flowers, baby names, tiles for the bathroom, bridesmaid dresses, and the colour of your bedroom walls. She’s going to know, get annoyed at and then accept that you leave clothes everywhere, take twenty minutes to order a Starbucks, have to organise your DVD’s alphabetically, and check your horoscope… just incase. She’ll know your McDonald’s order, how many sugars to put in your tea, how many scoops of ice cream you want, and that you need your sandwiches cut into triangles. She’s going to know how you feel without you telling her, that you need a wee from a look on your face, and that you’re crying without shedding tears. She’s going to know all of it. Everything. You, from top to bottom and inside out. From learning, from sharing, from listening, from watching. She’s going to know every single thing there is to know, and you know what else? She is still going to love you.

(via youwillgetbetterrr)

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Do you ever feel like you’re missing out on so much just because of being who you are and not someone else? Whenever I see a beautiful girl I wonder how it must feel to be that beautiful and if I’ll ever feel like that. Or when I see someone who’s confident and extroverted and I imagine how nice and easy it must be to be that way. Or when I see someone that’s my age who has already accomplished so much or been in so many places and experienced so many things, I can’t help but feel like time is falling from my hands like sand and I’m not getting better or going anywhere. I grew up watching movies and reading stories that made me believe that life was supposed to be constantly exciting and I haven’t felt that way many times and I just feel so stuck being myself. I wish I could be someone else for a while.

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I cannot stand small talk, because I feel like there’s an elephant standing in the room shitting all over everything and nobody is saying anything. I’m just dying to say, ‘Hey, do you ever feel like jumping off a bridge?’ or ‘Do you feel an emptiness inside your chest at night that is going to swallow you?’ But you can’t say that at a…party.

Paul Gilmartin, The Mental Illness Happy Hour (via kvtes)

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Just because the past didn’t turn out like you wanted it to, doesn’t mean your future can’t be better than you ever imagined.

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Do you ever notice yourself getting bad again…like, you know you’re not doing work that needs to be done, you know you’re not cleaning, you know you’re not taking care of yourself…you know all the things you need to do to start trying to feel better. But you just can’t. And you’re left feeling like shit bc you thought you were getting better but here we are

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