It’s not an incapacity to cope with day to day living in the modern world. It’s an incapacity to function. At all. If you and your loved ones have been spared, every blessing to you. If depression has taken root in you or your loved ones, every blessing to you, too. No one chooses it. No one deserves it. It runs in families, it ruins families. You cannot imagine what it takes to feign normalcy, to show up to work, to make a dentist appointment, to pay bills, to walk your dog, to return library books on time, to keep enough toilet paper on hand, when you are exerting most of your capacity on trying not to kill yourself. Depression is real. Just because you’ve never had it doesn’t make it imaginary. Compassion is also real. And a depressed person may cling desperately to it until they are out of the woods and they may remember your compassion for the rest of their lives as a force greater than their depression. Have a heart. Judge not lest ye be judged."
This is another one that’s just stacking up on information we’ve suspected for a while. When a child is praised for being smart or talented, it makes the stakes that much higher because they need to stay smart or talented in order to maintain their identity. Here’s the crux of this study:“Adults may feel that praising children for their inherent qualities helps combat low self-esteem, but it might convey to children that they are valued as a person only when they succeed,” Brummelman said. “When children subsequently fail, they may infer they are unworthy.”
The west especially values this sorta-myth of inherent ability over hard work. The one upside is that it gives lazy jerks like me an out when math is revealed to be “not my thing” after the first couple tries.
This has been a huge problem for me with my own self esteem.
I always did tremendously well in school from the second I got there and had always been praised for being intelligent, creative, talented, etc., and as a result, I now suffer from extremely destructive perfectionism in just about everything that I attempt to do, ever.
Because, you know. If the things I do aren’t perfect, then I’m clearly not intelligent, creative, talented, etc., am I.
This explains so much.
Do you ever crave to be touched? Even in the most innocent way. I want someone to just hug me for a very long time or someone to lean against/ someone to lean on me. Maybe while sitting or laying next to someone just to have our legs, arms, or feet touching would be nice. I think that when you’re lonely for so long you constantly want to feel someone against you just as a constant reminder that you’re not alone.
my self esteem has two levels
- im a worthless piece of shit who deserves no love
- bow down before bitches i am your queen
job hunting is like having a full time job only it doesn’t pay anything, you work completely alone and you feel like a worthless piece of shit all the time
do you remember the first time you were called annoying?
how your breath stopped short in your chest
the way the light drained from your eyes, though you knew your cheeks were ablaze
the way your throat tightened as you tried to form an argument that got lost on your tongue.
your eyes never left the floor that day.
you were 13.
you’re 20 now, and i still see the light fade from your eyes when you talk about your interests for “too long,”
apologies littering every other sentence,
words trailing off a cliff you haven’t jumped from in 7 years.
i could listen to you forever, though i know speaking for more than 3 uninterrupted minutes makes you anxious.
all i want you to know is that you deserve to be heard
for 3 minutes
for 10 minutes
for 2 hours
there will be people who cannot handle your grace, your beauty, your wisdom, your heart;
mostly because they can’t handle their own.
but you will never be
and have never been
tries to do things: becomes overridden with anxiety
doesn’t do things: becomes overridden with anxiety
Its hard for people without depression to understand when some days that just dropping a cup of water will bring you to tears because they think oh this is just one little thing but you see it as oh my god I can’t even get water without fucking up and now I’ve made a huge mess I shouldn’t even try
*searches for an item of clothing*
*clicks the ‘plus size’ search option*
When I was 17, I was obsessed with my best friend. I loved her open-heartedly and possessively, the way only a 17 year-old can love.
It is a feeling familiar to any teenage girl who has been in platonic love with another teenage girl. Together you create a tiny, obsessive world: in-jokes, coded words, frantically loving bands and films and books because they’re meant for you, they’re speaking to you – and not just you, singular, because there is no you, singular any more; there is only Us, Me and You, the pair of us so bright and vivid and glitteringly perfect that everyone else in the world feels like a grey shadow miming inanities.
My love for her was glorious – and then it wasn’t. She helped me see that you can’t obsessively love someone without obsessively hating them too."