sagradachoir
sagradachoir
at the service of my beloved ghosts
6 posts
vitta | 22 years | schizophrenic | lesbian | argentina y peronista
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sagradachoir · 16 days ago
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𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐕𝐚𝐫𝐢𝐚𝐧𝐭𝐬 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐃𝐚𝐮𝐠𝐡𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐬 𝐨𝐟 𝐇𝐲𝐩𝐧𝐨𝐬
Ethereal, detached, original. They walk through the world see what others cannot. These are the women who dream, who have visions, who have sacred sleep. Illusions are their home. Sensitive to the world around them, as well as worlds that no one else can see. Their experiences set them apart from others, even if they want that or not.
𝑀𝑎𝑟𝑦 𝑃𝑜𝑝𝑝𝑖𝑛𝑠
𝐸𝑙𝑒𝑣𝑒𝑛
𝐴𝑢𝑟𝑜𝑟𝑎
𝐶𝑙𝑎𝑟𝑎 𝑂𝑠𝑤𝑎𝑙𝑑
𝐶𝑜𝑟𝑎𝑙𝑖𝑛𝑒
𝑉𝑎𝑛𝑒𝑠𝑠𝑎 𝐼𝑣𝑒𝑠
𝑆𝑎𝑖𝑙𝑜𝑟 𝑆𝑎𝑡𝑢𝑟𝑛
𝐸𝑚𝑖𝑙𝑦 𝑡𝘩𝑒 𝐶𝑜𝑟𝑝𝑠𝑒 𝐵𝑟𝑖𝑑𝑒
𝑂𝑝𝘩𝑒𝑙𝑖𝑎
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sagradachoir · 23 days ago
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I decided to make a Tumblr! Here’s some Lottie Matthews fanart because I love her
❤️🩸🥩🦌
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sagradachoir · 2 months ago
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The Jesus-ification of Lottie Matthews needs to be studied
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sagradachoir · 2 months ago
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who up hating pop psychology
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sagradachoir · 2 months ago
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sagradachoir · 2 months ago
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"You are more than a diagnosis. You can't let it define your entire life."
To all those who have known me, now and before, but especially to the many psychologists, psychiatrists, occupational therapists, pedagogues and even teachers, I ask one question: how?
Because like it or not, schizophrenia does define my life. Do you really think I can be really free or, as you like to say, "functional and independent"?
Will you be the ones who will lie in bed with me, every night, as I rot like a corpse while worms eat my flesh and feast on my blood? When I see moving ants under my skin and feel that my pores are penetrated for that monstrosity that dwells inside to come out? When I can't speak or formulate a thought without hearing a mocking cacophony of voices that no one else seems to hear? When I am surrounded by the lady in white, the clock, the rag man, or the shadows with smiles, when I look around me and people I have known all my life suddenly look empty, soulless, like puppets whose names I know by memory but whose faces I don't recognize? When everything familiar becomes foreign, and I feel like the sole survivor? On those nights when I can't close my eyes because I am certain there will be a tomorrow?
The answer is easy. No, it is not you who are in those moments. Therefore, you cannot tell me how I choose to define myself.
And I'm only talking about my nights, what would you do if you walked through my days?
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