with-shaking-hands

[with-shaking-hands]

lowk in the verge of giving up. everything fucking sucks and i’m sick of it. maybe it’s a bit forward of me to say but i’ll never be anything past this disability i’ve got. assisted suicide should be legal i think.

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not doing well. break is expected to be a while longer than i thought. sorry to all my moots ilysm

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i’m turning off notifications i didn’t realise how often i get notified from tumblr

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this is the teddy bear from my granny and papaw. i only met them once when i went to meet my birth family when i was 18 but they gave me this little guy named Flower because i was holding my old stuffed bear that i carried around everywhere (and still do on bad days). idk if anyone reads my tags but granny just got diagnosed with cancer of the brain. papaw passed away not too long ago and it feels like my rib cage is too tight and my chest is going to implode under the pressure or maybe explode idk.

i’ll be taking a break from a lot of things i think. i’ll be back eventually though this might take a while. it’s strange how hard this grief is hitting me for a man and woman i didn’t know, but they raised my daddy and if they hadn’t i wouldn’t be here today so. i guess i should probably go to sleep at this point. i’m too drained to think much more right now. i love all of yall so much and i’ll see you again sometime. don’t have too much fun without me, moots.

ily,

Ben

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Rage, Grief & Other Quiet Explosions

(Emotional meltdowns that don’t look like meltdowns, but absolutely are)

 The “Smiling Too Much” Grief Your character’s entire world is on fire, and they’re asking if anyone wants more wine. That’s not denial, it’s an effort to hold the damn pieces together. Smile like a glue gun. Watch them crack.

The “Not Crying At the Funeral” Breakdown They don't shed a tear. They organize everything. Perfect speech. Perfect outfit. But a week later, they scream into the laundry basket over a missing sock. That’s the moment. That’s the eulogy.

 The “Silent Dinner Table” Fight No yelling. No slamming doors. Just chewing. Clinking silverware. The kind of silence that tastes like metal. Let the reader feel the air shrink.

 The “Polite but Dead Inside” Apology They say “Sorry” because it’s expected, not because they’re ready. Their voice doesn’t crack. Their eyes don’t meet yours. This isn’t healing. This is a peace treaty with no peace.

The “I Don’t Want to Talk About It” Detour The one where they ask about your day mid-sob. Redirect. Deflect. “Let’s not talk about me.” That’s rage choked by shame. Write it like it’s shoving itself into a smaller box.

 The “Obsessively Productive” Meltdown New projects. New hobbies. Suddenly they’re running marathons, baking sourdough, fixing the garage door. Because if they sit still for one second, they’ll break. Keep the camera on them when they finally sit.

The “Unsent Letters” Grief They write it all down. Every damn emotion. Then burn it. Or delete it. Or hide it in a shoebox under their bed. It’s not for closure. It’s to let the ghosts know they were seen.

The “I’m Fine” That Echoes Delivered too fast. Too sharp. You could bounce a quarter off it. “I’m fine” isn’t fine. It’s the dam cracking. Listen to the echo. Let another character hear the hollowness.

The “Hyper-Logical Rant” Rage They argue with spreadsheets. With perfect bullet points. Cold rage—like ice, not fire. “I’m not mad, I’m just saying…” But that’s a lie. They’re volcanic under that clipboard.

 The “Laughing in the Middle of the Breakdown” Moment That bitter, hysterical laugh. The kind that sounds more like sobbing with teeth. Let it come at the worst time. Let it shock even them. That’s emotion refusing to stay boxed in.

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Don't skip 🚨Emergency

✅vetted by@gazavetters,(#365)✅

My name is Mahmoud Al-Halaq, from Palestine - Gaza - I am 29 years old. This message is addressed to every person who carries compassion, kindness, and love in their heart. After 470 days of war on Gaza, the destruction that has occurred, the displacement we have faced, moving from one place to another, and the loss and death of loved ones and friends, I found myself alone without a home or place, and even the prices of food are astronomical. The world has changed so much that life has become gloomy and boring. Therefore, I ask for your help in rebuilding myself, my life, and my family's life anew. You are our remaining hope in life. If there were an opportunity to work, I would not waste a minute nor ask for help from anyone, but I urgently need assistance for my family, my children, and the women to rebuild what has been destroyed and crushed in this devastating and painful war. Thank you for your time and support; we draw our strength and resilience from your support. 🍉

Please donate

✅vetted by@gazavetters,(#365)✅

[with-shaking-hands]

i hate having. to go to the hospital. deadname and misgendering literally constantly. i’m getting iv fluids today and the lady literally went “okay [deadname] tell me your name and date of birth” and since she deadass just said my deadname i just gave her my date of birth and she kinda stared at me and was like “and your name?” YOUVE ONLY BEEN CALLING ME IT THE ENTIRE TIME YOU SET UP THE IV I THINK I WOULD HAVE TOLD YOU IF YOU HAD THE WRONG PERSON

anyways i had to say my deadname. ts pmo

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damn, i wish i wasn’t so

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Bro, we’re friends, lemme see your dick

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just described dalgona as “that game show candy. where they have to fucken trace it.”

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losing my fucking mind over this picture i drew

it’s a giant ocean sunfish i’ve been obsessed with them lately

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when i frantically leapt from my bed at 3am as soon as i saw this cat...

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if you post your shit in communities i’m not bothering. post on a blog like the rest of us isn’t that the whole point of tumblr

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GONNA KMS THERES TERMITES IN MY HOUSE EUGH GROSS

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@ducklesmcfuckles us lmao

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The next time I see Donald Trump trending on this god forsaken website, it better fucking look like this.

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