#cw mental heath

[becomingvecna]

#my writing

[shininglightmentalhealthevent]

Welcome to the Shining Light Writing Event!

!Sign-up link!

Schedule and other details / explanation below (Note: This is not for any specific fandom, but writing about a fandom is allowed (hence tags))

!! Warning: This event / blog talks about, references, and deals with many sensitive mental health topics, which may be triggering to some people. Interact at your own risk. Any issues that arise from this point on are on you !!

What is this event? This is an online writing event focused on different types of mental health issues/illnesses/conditions, and how styles of writing can be used to help improve & bring awareness to them!

Who can sign up, & what are you looking for? There will not be applications, instead there are open sign ups that will close once an undecided number of people have filled it out. Anyone who is 16 or older and who writes in any style is welcome to join! Poetry, short story, anything. The word range for a typical style writing piece is 300 to 3,000 words. You can focus on an original character, fandom character, or real person in your life.

When are things happening? The Discord server will open at the end of February, and a PDF of the compiled works will be released Mid-May. See the schedule graphic above for more dates, and the schedule channel in the Discord has even more specific info.

Where is it being held? There is a Discord server, the link to which will be shared in an email.

Who is running it? @th3-dark-abyss is the head mod and organizer of this event! There is a team of five other mods helping, who will be credited as well.

Why is this event a thing anyway? Abyss (that's me) is working on their Girl Scout Gold Award! It's the highest award that a scout their age can earn; it requires 80+ service hours towards a project of their choosing that has a lasting, positive impact on a community. There have been a few hurdles, but I'm pushing through and I'd really love if you applied and/or shared the posts wherever you can!

Some Rules / Guidelines ~ We will be dealing with many sensitive topics that are very real issues. Please be kind and considerate. ~ Participating in this event is for over 16 years old only. If you are younger than 16, your sign up will be deleted immediately. (Under 16s feel free to reblog and interact though, at your own risk.) ~ Discrimination or hate of any kind will not be tolerated. ~ The point of this is to spread awareness through writing, to show how creative writing can help improve mental health and well-being, and to convey different people's unique experiences. It is not to stereotype, villainize, or put issues in boxes. ~ Do not make assumptions or state things as facts when they are not. ~ Do not discount others and their experiences just because you aren't familiar. ~ The askbox is open if you have any other questions or comments!

---

If you are having a mental health crisis and need help, contact 988 (National Mental Health Hotline). Here is a website with some help hotlines if you need to reach out for help. (I am in the US, so this is likely for my area. If this doesn't have one, let me know and I will help you find a line for your area.)

You are not alone ❤️

---

Keep your eyes out for the sign-up form, and please enjoy!!

[celestiall0tus]

Mental Health May - Mayura/Nathalie Sancoeur - Bloody Bug

My fault is done, the story is lost.

            History always captivated me. Not the discovered, mundane history of recent centuries. No. It was the history lost to the ages. Lost before we as humans recorded it. Lost in the dark, never to see the light of day. It was this history that drove me. It was this mystery that consumed me.

            I studied for years. I dived into every myth, every story, everything I could. I longed to find truths in fiction of the past. I longed to discover something lost to the ages. In these studies, I found stories of tiny, mythical creatures with almost godlike powers. They were scattered through mythologies, tied into the tales of heroes and even villains. I chased this thread for years. I built my life on uncovering it. I pitched it to any who would listen. And every time, I was dismissed for chasing a fool’s dream. Until another fool heard me.

            Gabriel Agreste. A name I knew, but nothing more. Whispered among those in the Paris fashion scene. I was quick to dismiss him, but his fortune tempted me. With him, I could secure funding. I could set out on an expedition. I could find the proof I needed. To my own surprise, he wanted one of these godlike creatures. He shared with me a copy of a book he couldn’t translate. A book that cemented my research. Detailing each hero and villain that used these creatures, and about the creatures themselves. And he wanted me to find the one that was a flamboyant peacock. One that could allow him to create a child for him and his wife.

            I accepted. With his funding, I lead us on expeditions to find this jewel. These journeys lead us to an area in Tibet. Lost to the ages, we found what we searched for. A brooch designed like a peacock tail. With it found, we headed home. I documented it, studied it, and discovered a crack on the brooch. I warned Gabriel of this, but he didn’t hear me. Once we were back. I prepared my leave and my research. On the day I was to leave, I found my entire life’s work destroyed and the brooch stolen.

            Despair consumed me. I rushed to the Agreste estate, but Gabriel refused to see me. I was blocked, thwarted, and tossed out. I returned to my home with nothing to show for a lifetime worth of research. Nothing to show the proof that I found something lost to the ages. Lost to the times before recorded human history. I slipped into a terrible depression.

            For years I stumbled around in a stupor. Every moment a blur. Until I found myself at the Louvre. I was finding comfort in the history around me when she approached me. A woman with fiery red hair and blazing blue eyes. In the fire of her eyes, I saw sorrow and concern for a stranger. She sat with me. Talked with me. In time, I shared my research, and what became of it. Next time I saw her, she shared news of funding from the museum. How her husband secured some funding as the director of the Louvre. A blessing I could never repay.

            I was careful this time. I went on the expeditions alone. I searched everywhere until I discovered a box of unknown origin and material. It took ages to pry it open, but once I did, I found records. Millennia ago that spoke of Eden, a paradise for the earliest of mankind. Led by their leaders Adam, and his wife, Eve, in service of their god, Velze. A tragedy was detailed, but most details had been torn from the records. I gathered that Velze was lost, split into the creatures called kwamis. Amongst these records were accounts that differed from the book Gabriel once showed me.

            The records shared all research into the kwamis. Their powers, their concepts they manifested as, the jewels they carried, and even how to alter and repair the jewels. Amongst the records were ancient tools with manuals how to use them. I took these back as proof of my discoveries, but I was too late.

            Josephine Kubdel. My angel. My saving grace. Your light that guided me, gone from the world. I grieved your death just as your family did. I regretted I couldn’t have shown you before you were taken from us. I shared it with your husband, Alim, but it felt hollow. It was you that believed in me. It was you that helped me. Without you, it felt empty.

            I took my findings and fell back into darkness. I studied and tried to find what I could to make it all worthwhile. I tried to find evidence that would lead me to more. To make everything you did worth more. I had to find more. I had to do more. Until opportunity rose.

            A decade after Gabriel cut me out, he contacted me. He begged me to help find a solution to his wife’s illness. One caused by using a broken miraculous. One that I had warned him could possibly happen. But I still took it. Funding from him again meant new expeditions. I could use what he gave me to make Josephine’s investment in me truly pay off. For me to live up to my dream. To carve my name into history. For me to repay all she did for me.

            I went on expeditions again back to the area of Tibet. Not far from where we discovered the peacock jewel, I discovered the butterfly brooch. I returned with it and shared what it could do. Gabriel was unconvinced until Emilie passed. He grieved for a year. In his grief, he tossed out the peacock brooch that he once kept safe.

            I struck while the iron was hot. I rescued the brooch and brought it home. I repaired the break in it. I worked to restore the brooch and its kwami to how they were detailed in the records of old. All while I convinced Gabriel to use the butterfly. To cause terror and panic to draw out the greatest of jewels used to quell chaos: the Ladybug and the Black Cat.

            I waited, and in time, they came. A young woman with the ladybug and a young man with the black cat. I watched while they battled Gabriel’s pathetic little monsters. All while I learned from the peacock kwami, Duusu. I learned of the past. I documented new records. Added to old ones. I dared not leave anything out. It filled me with a new purpose hearing the woes of the past.

            The kwamis were meant to be gods. They were born from the greatest, Velze. I longed to see Velze in his entirety, but to do so would mean I had to collect all the kwamis. I had to fuse them back together. But if I did, I could undo the destruction of Eden. I could right an ancient wrong. I could usher in a new age. The possibilities were endless.

            Time had come. I bore Duusu and became Mayura. I reveled in the power of him. I lorded it over the meager holders using inhibited jewels. I targeted Adrien to make Gabriel squirm. I destroyed Gabriel’s life as he once destroyed mine. I learned the identities of the holders in time. And to my horror and surprise, Josephine’s daughter, Alix Kubdel, held the ladybug. The ember of Josephine’s legacy.

            I tried to connect. I wanted Alix to see the truth. I wanted her to understand more than anyone. Just as Josephine did, I wanted, needed, Alix to understand. I hoped she did. I hoped more than anything. I just never would find out.

            I convinced the young heroes to go back into time. I convinced them to see the truth in its truest, purest form. I hoped this would help. Maybe it did. But while they learned, I battled. In my possession was five kwamis. Five was all I needed. And the five I made one as I fused them all into a piece of the Amalgamation himself: Velze.

            Haze shrouded my mind. I struggled against the haze as my body moved in wild, erratic ways. I lost pieces of the five and returned to normal. I found the heroes until their black cat, until Adrien, used the power of destruction on Duusu.

            Everything was dark. My body moved. The only thought was my legacy. I didn’t want to die yet. I hadn’t achieved what I wanted. When a maddened thought consumed me. Nathalie Sancoeur would die, lost to the ages with the rest of history. But Mayura would be torched into history.

            In this madness, I consumed Duusu to ascend if only to buy a little more time. When heroes came for their villain, I unleashed everything I had left. I would go out on my terms. I would make history.

[sappy-sabbath]

as a society can we stop making mental illness/neurodivergency trendy and romanticized. i know more mf who faked claim than ppl who actually had the condition. at the end it just makes the people who are diagnosed with the condition the butt of the joke or look disingenuous.

ALSO IF I MAY be real for a sec!!! it’s because of the “destigmatizing XYZ 🥺” tiktoks and self diagnosing that make this happen, i know they are good intent and not all people have resources but its one thing to be concerned about your mental health and another to claim to have a disorder that you haven’t been diagnosed with!

autism, ADHD, schizophrenia, BPD, bipolar disorder, psychosis, OCD have all became quirks than serious debilitating condition and as someone with ADHD and psychotic depression IM SICK OF ITTTT, it’s different with things like depression and anxiety bc you experience that at least once in your life but it’s getting out of hand

[m0onshineart]

Happy Mens Mental Health Awareness Month!! Take care of yourselves youre important <3

[badlifedecisionshotline]

-《Passed down messige from a diety -Ihakaw/Evine》

"If you ignore it, its not there" TW: suggesting traumatic themes (braud) + physical abuse, body horror/gorey descriptions. Please dont read at all unless you're fully sure you're able to read. GORE. GORE. UTTERS. OK?

Accidentally posted- not finished ✅️

Finished but probably will be edited

If you have something to ignore, already consider yourself in danger

You have forsaken a child, once in your parents care now in yours for such a long time. And you failed it. Instead of giving it all that love it needed, you threw it in the basement or the attic- the backyard maybe even. I do know it was never your fault you ended up here— But probably neither you, nor the animal inside your home agree with me.

Because of your neglect in hydrating it, it has stared licking the windows of the cold lifeless room.

From the neglect of feeding, it has started tearing the floorboards and the layers of wall to feed on anything.

Due to you neglecting to show some love and affection, it gutted itself just so it can wrap the warm utters around its body. Mimicking being held by your arms

You heard people say "itll catch up with you someday" but they're wrong. They already are creeping around. How would you know? You didn't pay attention, they're almost free

The toddlers

On the flip side,(compared to the others) you'll always know when they break free. You'll barricade anything and everything just for it to come out again. It wants your acknowledgment. it wants you to admit it is, in fact, there. And itll do everything necessary to feel that way. Just standing there isn't enough for you— Itll pull your hair, itll cry itll scream. Itll break everything in sight.

And you? Youll hit it.

I just want it to stop. You dont know how.

You hit it. Thats the only time it gets your attention

Itll never try escape, because it gets exactly what it wants because of you. The acknowledgment.

The pain is worth it in its eyes. Not to mention when it sobs you do it more. Itll only stop when it can't bear the pain anymore, and it'll shush itself. You beaten up a kid

But one day it wont hurt anymore right? Youll atcualy try pay attention to it, give it that love. To make it learn that its not normal, and what is true love. Because again- just like they said. It hurts you more than it does the toddler.

The Afraid

Theyll be quieter than you can even imagine, you wont know they're there untill its almost too late. For they are aware of your cuelty, and wonder what else you're capable of. They're exploring the house, to see what they could've grown up with that you failed to provide. Theyll listen, theyll dream. Youll always see how foods missing, but again- Just ignore it. And it doesn't exist. You know the breadcrumbs you sweeped under the rug werent from anything you ate. But it doesnt matter does it really? When they have grown and gained the curige, for they now know you're the one whos terrafied, you'll feel air on your neck before getting mauled.

They might feel regret, and as you lay in a pool of blood, they will stay with you, mourning the life you two could've spent together. In which this never happened, just so it's able to live a life outside confinement.

Itll wrapp you in its gutters

It wants to comfort you

Doesnt know how to though, never had an example

The abandoned

The opposite of ones who are afraid — they're in your backyard. They get to eat the slugs, rocks, trash, glass- all kinds of things really.

But everyone sees it, so you try sush it. Its the kind you cant see because its just on your blind spot regarding windows in the house- but your neighbors and strangers can.

You're the only one whos spoken to it.

It listens at first because it wants to know what happens if its hidden- Nothing does, however. You dont show up again, and no one knows it's there. So much like the toddler, it'll stand in the middle, doing all sorts of things- conserning ones getting the most attention from strangers. Oh- and you. You talk a lot more! It feels horrible, but you're back.

At night itll try break in though

Goodluck

It has more reasources than the others

What it does then now even i know- if this fits, you will. You know it better, right? You payed attention?

The vengeful

Chances are, its more like those who were locked away in the house. Exept it hates you. It hates everything it lacks. Everyone who doesnt. Much much more, but also good to mention — it hates how it wants your love. It wants to be loved.

Itll watch, itll listen. Its more determined than the others. Itll prepare, and prepare it will. Sharpen its claws, streanghten its jaws. All the deformalaties it needed to create to survive

And you're both of them. The house, the owner and the "beast".

Its never late. You can reverse the damage. What you need to do will be uneqe to your animal.

You need the love you never got

And youll get it doing whatever you need to do to get better

[keidiavlo05]

I know this isn't a positive start to my account but I got frustrated with my posts being taken down by TikTok so here I am

[trichy-jadie]

Reblog this if you want to show trichotillomania awareness!

[goodlukbabe]

"Well well." Agatha was obviously amused. She rarely pulled her punches, even verbally. "The mouthy teen." She hadn't seen him since she had been resurrected. Truthfully, she felt some anxiety, not understanding why she had been a ghost one second, and flesh and blood once again. She was under the impression that Rio had something to do with it, but she couldn't be sure. "Learned to use all that power yet?" She laughed, having a soft spot for the boy- but it didn't stop her from taunting him.

@ivypapercutsxo

[spoonfulofhannah]

From my book Equanimity and Grace

[neon-pink-witch]

I have kept my room clean for two days!!

This is a huge deal for me because I recently cleaned the depression mess and it was four trash bags.

I'm trying to treat my depression as an accepted part of myself like I do asthma. Yes, I'll prolly have another depression episode. So I'm cleaning with mindset of helping my depression self

[kid-az]

I need help

I’m relapsing horribly… feeling like there’s no hope in anything getting better, and that life will just get worse and worse and worse, and that anything is a better alternative to this.

Do you people have any advice to get rid of or at least mitigate these feelings… because I don’t want to live this miserably and stressed out…… please.

I just wish I could keep this stuff to myself… and not be so self destructive.

[seeking-phantoms]

If you are In a relationship that is toxic and the individual is a**sive in any way and you need out but don’t know what to do, read:

“How to do No Contact Like a Boss” by Kim Saeed

Download a sample first from Amazon to see if it will help you. And if that first paragraph resonates with you, buy the ebook to help you.

If you think you need out, most likely you do. I’m not a therapist but someone who is in the middle of the storm currently and finding the help that I need to make the best choice for me and my recovery and mental health.

Remember:

YOU ARE NOT AND NEVER ALONE.

[celestiall0tus]

Mental Health May - Azura - TBtR/Hazbin

We’re just particles of dust. Brushed from the palm of a God. That’s all we ever were.

            I was the second of humanity with Abel, my twin. Born to Adam and Eve, the first of humanity created by dust. Second to Cain and Calmana, the first to be born of flesh and blood. I had been saddled with staying with Eve as Calmana was. Calmana was content with such a life, but I wanted more. I wanted to do what Abel was meant to as a man, but was too weak, too soft. But that didn’t matter. He was the man between us. It fell to him to do what I was just as capable of.  

            I fell in line all the same, but the envy grew as we did. I watched Abel struggle with his duties while I endured mine. I hoped in time we could switch, but Cain came in and helped Abel. I was furious once Abel started to get a grasp on what he was supposed to do. Supposed to be. All because of Cain. But Abel was happy. Which meant I should have been happy. Just like Calmana was happy when Cain was. But I wasn’t.

            We grew from children to adults. We were expected to reproduce as Adam tried to with Eve, as Cain and Calmana did effortlessly. A part of my life I expected and had no issue with. I figured with my own kids, they could have the real freedom of choice that I was denied. I tried with you, sweet Abel, but you would never touch me as Adam did with Eve or Cain with Calmana. What about me was so repulsive? What about me made you act as such?

            I headed out to retrieve some of the harvest early. I often did to escape my duties, but one day, Cain wasn’t in the fields. It was unusual for the time of day, so I went to the flock to find it unattended. Abel would never leave his darling animals alone in the open. Fear became me as I grabbed a weapon and went in search of them. I searched the wilds, careful to avoid Adam. I was about to give up when I saw the pair of boys in each other’s embrace. My jaw dropped as envy replaced my fear.

            I rushed back home and pulled Calmana from the home. I dragged her to our secret spot and told her, but she already knew about the boys. When I asked how, she simply said it was Cain who told her. When she asked if Abel told me and I said no, she was confused. I shared in that confusion. Why was this easy for Cain and Calmana? They were all the same, so they should be the same, but they weren’t. Abel didn’t talk to her. Abel didn’t touch her. Abel did nothing with her. But he did with Cain.

            I stormed off and left Calmana. I couldn’t be around her when a hatred grew for Cain, her twin. A hatred for one of my own brothers. He had everything. He had a loving relationship with his own twin. He had a family. He was loved by everyone. He got to do what he wanted. And now he had Abel’s love. He stole it away from me and I hated it. I hated him.

            The hate grew into a poison that rotted my soul. I did everything I could to win Abel’s love. He was my twin. We were meant to be like Cain and Calmana. I intended on making it so. But my attempts to mimic what Cain was went unnoticed by everyone except Adam. I didn’t tell Adam of the scene I witnessed, just that Abel preferred Cain’s companionship over mine. That I was trying to get Abel to notice me so we could do what we were supposed to. That was enough though. Adam spoke with Abel, and Abel reluctantly gave himself to me. I thought I would feel the sweetness of victory, but it was the bitter poison.

            Though Abel had relented, he was just as unwilling. I struggled to work with him while he stared off at nothing. The poison spread as I thought of Cain and just how easy it was for him at everything. What was wrong with him? What was wrong with me? Questions that plagued me and added to the poison.

            Some relief came when I learned I was with child. I was finally able to carry on. To give my own kids a choice that I was denied. I tried to share my joy with Abel, but he left me to go back to Cain. A part of me wanted to go and drag him back. Force him to partake in my joy, but I stopped myself. I was done chasing Abel. I was done playing second fiddle to Cain. I had what I needed. I didn’t need either of them anymore.

            I continued with my life as I stayed with Calmana and Eve. We raised the kids together while I didn’t bother with Abel, and especially not Cain. I felt happier without seeing them a couple times and that was it. In my heart, I had a little wish that I didn’t have to see them ever again. I wished that I could go about my days without their annoying presences. At times I would catch myself, and scold myself. They were family. They were my brothers. But at the same time, what did that really matter?

            I saw before long what it mattered. Roped in to see the boys by Calmana. A beast. An axe. I stared at the crimson that flowed from Abel. I recognized similar injuries to beasts that took them from this world. I realized that Abel would be lost like one of those beasts hit me in a way it hadn’t before. In a way that terrified me.

            I was happy. I was happy to see Abel at death’s door. I was happy to be free of him. It was the poison that ruined my soul. The poison I’ve consumed for years. And it scared me. It scared me how my body moved on its own. How I reached to move the axe. To seal Abel’s fate and end his life. I would have if not for Cain. Cain took the burden of being Abel’s killer.

            Everything next happened so fast. Adam accused Cain of killing Abel. Calmana stood in defense of Cain, and for her, I defended him. I didn’t want to, but I did for the one family that hadn’t abandoned me. The one that didn’t steal control of a life that should be mine. I tried to help her, until the angels came. Until angels branded Cain and threw him down with Lucifer and Lilith. I was overjoyed until Calmana was branded as Cain was and everything changed.

            I looked at Calmana and saw her as less than myself. I saw her as I did with Cain and Abel. No better than common dogs. I shook my head; I knew better. Calmana was my sister. She was my equal. She had stood beside me through it all. Even though she was Cain’s twin, she was so much more than the mongrel.

            I refused to accept this change. I knew what Calmana was to me, but Adam was not like me. He caved to this change and went along with it. He battered, bruised, and abused Calmana and her children. I tried to stop him, but was ignored. Always ignored. Ignored when I wanted to do more. Ignored when I stood with Calmana. Ignored when I stood to defend her and her children. And not just by her. My own kids followed Adam’s example, not mine. The rest of Adam’s kids followed his example. It didn’t matter what I said or did, I was overruled.

            I had enough. I refused to obey any longer. I abandoned the house and hunted. I abandoned my duties to pursue what I wanted. I ostracized myself in protest. I disobeyed Adam. I challenged his rules. I wanted to destroy the order he worked hard to create. I wanted to see his world burn. In my pursuit to destroy everything Adam was, I abandoned the one that never abandoned me. In seeking chaos, I left Calmana. And Calmana left this world.

            I returned to the home to find Calmana body left to rot. Blood dried around her from where it gushed out her neck. I collapsed beside her. I considered offering a prayer for her soul, but I stopped myself. What good would prayers be when angels caused this? What prayers could help her soul when she was likely damned already? Instead I gathered her body and gave her a burial like Adam gave Abel. I paid my respects and made a vow that day. I would avenge her for all who wronged her.

            I fought until I drew my last breath. I made every day a living nightmare for Adam. I reminded him of his mistakes at every opportunity. I spouted blasphemy whenever I could. I disrespected the angels in open mockery. I turned some of his kids, grandkids, and more against him. I shared the poison of my soul with all who’d drink it. I damned as many as I could before my own life was lost.

            I woke up in Hell to find myself mostly unchanged except for the large tail and horns. My skin had turned gray while my hair was white. I wasted no time reuniting with Calmana and promising to be by her side always. I helped her in every way I could, not that she asked for much. She followed me more than I followed her. I did my best to be there. To be what Cain was, but better than him. I would be her everything. Not that it mattered in the end.

            One Extermination Day, when we were fighting to defend the other sinners, Calmana abandoned me. I heard her cry Cain’s name. I turned to see a man identical to her with Adam’s face. The poison I thought I lost in death returned with a vengeance. After everything I had done, Calmana ran back to him. After everything, he just conveniently walks back in and steals her away.

            I couldn’t see past my own hate as I was attacked. I screamed as the angels advanced. I scrambled for my weapon as Cain swooped in to save me. My resentment grew as he whisked us away to a land of lava, wastes, and volcanos. I hid away while Cain and Calmana were together, not wanting to be near the two, until Cain sought me out.

            Cain tried to talk to me. Cain tried to express his relief at seeing me, but I wouldn’t have it. I let it all out. I let out my hatred for him, for Abel, for Adam, and the angels. I expressed how I hated that Abel never loved me. I screamed how much I hated that he was so perfect and loved by everyone. How I hated Adam for trying to control my life. And how I despised the angels for everything they did to Calmana. Cain didn’t say anything, but I didn’t give him a chance.

            I kept to myself, refusing to see either of them before Cain sought me out again. I didn’t want to entertain his company. I didn’t want to hear what he had to say. But this time was different. He started with an apology for everything they done, on his and Abel’s behalf. He had thought Abel had told me and I was ok with it. He went on to explain that Abel did love me, but didn’t know how to approach me with the pressure and expectations before us. How Abel’s desires were different than my own. How Abel hated being pressured to what he didn’t want to do.

            I wanted to refuse Cain’s words, but they hit a cord with me. Abel was more like myself than I thought. I asked more of Cain. I demanded to know more of Abel, and I saw the regret and sorrow in his eyes. I learned so much of Abel that day. I learned how similar we really were. Abel’s disdain of being pushed into a life he didn’t want, forced to do what he was told, and wanting to be free.

            It took more time, but I accepted Cain’s words. I learned to forgive him and Abel. I realized we were all victims of being born to a man of order, abandoned by angels, and a woman broken by committing a sin. We were the first of our kind, and we paid the price for it. Despite this, there is one thing I’ll never forgive.

            Adam and Eve were created as the first of the angels’ projects. Made in their image all to be abandoned. Even if it led to my life, I won’t forget the source. I will embody chaos as I had in life and tear the Heavens and the angels from their lofty perch. Let them feel the wrath of the women they had scorned and brushed aside like dust.

[fragmentsandshards]

salvete!

hello! this is an introduction of sorts.

i’m 17, she/they, and i write poetry as a means of survival- i have done since i was 10.

this account will cover topics relevant to my own life, and considering my current mental state, i shall present a tw for content of basically really dark shit.

the tortured artist sterotype exists for a reason, what can i say.

i’ll be sharing thoughts. poems and poetic prose, random memes and probably a shit ton of random trauma jokes because that’s how i work.

just a brief history : i am ‘in recovery’- diagnoses including auDHD, MDD, GAD, SAD, BPD, with $h, and anā in active addiction. just got out of a 8 week psych hospital admission and am supposedly transitioning back into regular life and school.

please message me! looking for fellow broken poet people or just others who understand similar experiences :)

sending love to all 📜

🤎 ,domina poetica;

[haunted-calathea]

PSA about helping someone u think is being abused:

It's pretty easy to pick up on once you know the signs, but noticing someone needs help and actually helping are two very different things. And when it comes to things like this it's scary, how do u help? How do u keep them and urself safe from this person? What can u possibly do?

The answer is, not very much. U can help collect evidence for them, but that's really the most u can do to help get them out of that situation. The rest is mostly just being there to emotionally support them through this. If possible, provide a safe, neutral space for them to spend time in when they can. If they're comfortable with it, shittalk their abuser with them! They will feel more comfortable with u if u recognize what the abuser does and acknowledge how bad it is. This being said, don't be antagonistic towards their abuser bc it could spark issues that the victim will suffer for. You also should give them space to completely forget their abuser exists. That's where the true joy is. They need a chance to feel free and comfortable sometimes, to have fun and peace where they aren't scared or worried about things taking a turn.

Be sure to validate their feelings and thoughts, don't be alarmed if they get comfortable enough to talk about how they wish their abuser would die, or they wish they could kill/harm them. It's a feeling that comes with the situation, and it isn't genuine intent to cause harm. However, if they talk about wanting to remove themselves from the situation, or they start showing signs of suicidal ideation, take this very seriously. Try to convince them to seek help if it's safe for them, support them, if you have the ability to do so, let them know they are loved and wanted. But again, if you aren't capable of these things, don't force it. Pretending to care will only make them feel worse.