sophieyouneedtogetbetter
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Else Fitzgerald, from "Everything Feels Like the End of The World," publ. in 2022
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“And it seems I must always write you letters that I can never send.”
— Sylvia Plath
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"The Unbearable Lightness of Being", Milan Kundera (translated by Michael Henry Heim)
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There is a kind of sadness that comes from knowing too much, from seeing the world as it truly is. It is the sadness of understanding that life is not a grand adventure, but a series of small, insignificant moments, that love is not a fairy tale, but a fragile, fleeting emotion, that happiness is not a permanent state, but a rare, fleeting glimpse of something we can never hold onto. And in that understanding, there is a profound loneliness, a sense of being cut off from the world, from other people, from oneself.
Virginia Woolf
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I am grateful for
Waking up
Relationship with God
My loved ones are alive
I am alive and well
I’ve found someone who makes me feel loved
I have friends who understand me
I have pets that love me unconditionally
My parents and brother are in my life
I don’t have any problems with anyone
The strength God has given me
I am proud of
Going to the gym
Taking care of my health
Being productive
Not giving in to depression and anxiety
Teaching myself new things
Finding a new therapist
Consistently applying for jobs
Not giving up
Loving my body
Being kind even when I don’t want to be
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things that make me happy
- my beautiful boyfriend
- my middle school playlist
- 58° degree weather
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Mary Oliver, from New & Selected Poems of Mary Oliver; "A Meeting,"
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why do I relate to every line
author: @jing-le-bells
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Parents really do traumatize you and then force you to reparent yourself instead of being a capable human being who can contribute to society like a normal person. Sorry I can't get a well paying job right now I'm trying to learn coping mechanisms.
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Peace be upon the daughter who helped her parents grow up. Accepted their cold shoulder, excused their anger, pardoned their mistakes, taught them how to be human. Peace be upon the sister who paid the price of rebellion. Screaming to her fullest, shaking like a leaf but standing tall, never letting the dictatorship go without a fight, paving the path for her siblings to breathe easier. Peace be upon the first child of an immigrant father. Aching to find their own purpose in life, firm in their own beliefs, contradicting generations and generations of cultural values. Peace be upon the girl who shouldered her mother's trauma. Swindled it into her own, morphed herself into an image of the womb she once resided in, immersed herself into troubles that weren't even hers, covered up scars that she couldn't even recognize. Peace be upon the woman who forgot who she was. So determined to be the savior of everyone, to fix her family, to nurture and love everyone around her. So deeply lost that she forgot she's just as worthy of love. Peace be upon you.
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The eldest daughter urge "to play your mom's therapist after every fight she has with dad"
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You can lead a horse to water but you can’t make him drink.
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This is really great in understanding machanism of self sabotage.

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The Diary of Anaïs Nin, 1944–1947
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