bitches brew

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I’d’ve forgotten all about it if it wasn’t for the pictures that you took documenting a night of truly nothing. Three bottles later, I thought this feeling all-consuming. Maybe I have come to know you. 

at the very least, i have a boyfriend who knows what’s good for me and buys me a bag of fresh fruits and vegetables, chocolate, cookies, and my favorite pre-packaged meals for when i’m too tired to feed myself. i hope everyone gets to experience, at least once, how it feels to be loved with such relentless fervor when they are at their worst.

brashycouture:

September 23, 2014 at 05:47AM

I’m very aware of my thoughts and whether or not they are going to serve me in a positive, productive way. One thing I have gained from years of counseling, bouts of depression, and countless books about “active processing” is a sharp intuition of what I have produced and what is actually happening. I’m good at that. I’ve owned that.

That doesn’t make it easier to be a better daughter, sister, partner, co-worker, or student. It doesn’t make me feel enlightened or perceptive or wise. It makes me feel like the most inadequate of depressives because I KNOW the thoughts that are hurting me and I can’t help but continue to feed them. I’m sorry for how things are right now. This isn’t the best me. I recognize how stupid it is to be annoyed at the couple taking up the sidewalk when I’m rushing to work, or to feel like I can’t breathe whenever I’m not stoned and have to walk into a situation with difficult customers.

Please know that I see this and I am doing everything I can do at this moment. I wake up and go to bed thinking about it every day. Sometimes I’m really good at riding the wave and laughing at how silly I am. Sometimes I feel like I tripped into a hole and, as the day goes on, there are one, then two, then three, then eight hands pressing at my face while I try to claw my way back into the sun. It’s hard climbing walls when there is dirt in your eyes and dust in your lungs and you just want to be home. Sometimes your nail polish chips and you feel like crying.

i’m torn between wanting deeply to believe in the goodness & generosity & beauty of the universe and wanting deeply to scream my head off because there is so much going wrong. if the world is bountiful and you need only ask for what you want, then why the fuuuuuuuuuck can’t i get my shit together? 

i am also, apparently, a huge brat because i realize how lucky i am and i can still only count the day’s shortcomings.