Strength is written into you. In your teeth and fingers and legs, strength is written into you. In the quip of your tongue and the flick of your gaze and every time you wake up and commit to moving forward. You can forget or deny or give up, but if you stand, your body will hold you up. Believe me. Trust me. The strength is there.
Amenah posted a quote
September 25, 2016 3:10pm UTC
20 minutes ago I stopped myself from walking off a platform in front of an incoming train and 15 minutes ago I started texting my friends and 14 minutes ago I gave up on asking for their help amd 14 minutes ago I started crying alone in a train station and 8 minutes ago I started walking home and 20 minutes ago I didn't die but 6 minutes ago I realised I still wanted to.
Amenah posted a quote
September 8, 2016 6:06am UTC
I started journaling. I bought a ukuelele (it was stringed incorrectly and I learned three chords left-handed without realising). I deleted all the pictures off my phone (they're backed up online). I opened my YouTube channel again. I rediscovered my adoration for poetry. I fell in love with yellow. I made the decision I am a happy person (who happens to have depression right now). I spent £40 on crappy lipsticks. I apologised to someone I fought with a year ago (because I finally learned the truth and it turns out at the time I was wrong). I deleted most of my online accounts. I adopted a sweet resue cat (and developed severe allergies). I moved out to a flat where I live alone. I flew on six different airplanes. I know I haven't been around on witty much lately, but don't worry. I may not always be okay; I may cry from stress or freeze in a moment, but if I'm overwhelmed because I'm living too much... that's okay with me. :)
sorry, he said, we don't make those kinds of stickers. we specialise in packing tape, he said. that's what i want, i told him. rather than f r a g i l e , custom print w a n t e d t o d i e and wrap my coffin in it at two o'clock tomorrow instead of the rope. i'm afraid i'll be putting that to other use. last words
Thinking about you doesn't make me sad. Your name sounds nostalgic in the same way old teacher names are; you sounds like the theme song of my favourite show when I was younger which had a terrible finale. But I get sad when I think about a best friend I had who I knew was my best friend. I don't know who that is now -- I don't have one anymore. I have good friends, wonderful friends, but no best friend; I don't know who my ultimate is, who loves me the most and who I love the most. That security is missing, and it's not been replaced yet so I can only hear other people talk about their best friends and feel sad. It's not you -- it's that. I just want that feeling back.
person i have spoken to for two hours: my online bff lives in x!! my ridiculous self: *getting jealous over someone i do not know at all and have spoke to for a total of t w o h o u r s* me: ahaha that's so cool :) [why are u so this way @self pull ur shxt together]
I'm meeting jesusisyoursunshine in two days. Maybe we will drink coffee and lemonade and go on a walk and eat some gluten-free dairy-free cake in a little cafe somewhere. It will be wonderful. I'm excited❀
Right now, I feel crippled by all the mistakes I've made. The weigh so heavilly on me I don't feel I can work towards change or growth. That's what I'm always meant to do, what I've always tried to do, and right now I just feel I can't; I've given up the right to try. That's what it feels like. And I won't let that feeling carry on forever, I'll pick up the ball and start climbing up again. There are things in this world I want to change, I want to fight. It didn't matter how small I am. And the weight of my shoulders may have shrunk me for now, but I'll grow again, and I'll fight again, one day sometime.
Debating was a large part of my formative years, and throughout all my teenage ones it really helped form me as who I am. Debating showed me what it was like to be listened to, what it felt like when people heard the ideas you wanted to share, and not just heard but took them in and digested them and responded to them. It was in my school's debating club where I found people who were like me -- who wanted to win, and weren't embarrased about it; who took criticism as advice or suggestions rather than bullets; who had a thirst for knowledge obnoxious as dustiest part of a scholar library; and who's jokes were just as crass and rude and ill-informed and funny as mine. Debating was where I made a lot of friends. It was where I became loud and clever and rude and I made mistake after mistake and felt okay with that because it meant growing and learning and striving for better. But I stopped. I did it less and less, I pulled back, because when you start to lose parts of yourself -- when they go to sleep for a bit -- you don't want to taint the things you care about with that stain. But friends stayed friends. And then at university after years of pulling away and trying to turn my back, I returned to debating, and made plans to see a friend there as well, a friend from another university I went to high school with who was visiting mine. And I was ready to go back to debating, I thought. But that friend killed themselves the weekend before we were going to meet up. That friend was a lot of what debating was to me. I didn't go in the end. And for now, I'm not loud or clever or funny or crass or brave. For now, I'm half. And that friend is six feet under, and she's rotting in the ground, and I feel like my spirit to make this world a better place is rotting with her.
My friend's eulogy is in the school end-of-term magazine and I really don't want to read it because 1. it was written by snobbish teachers who are going to make it sound wrong 2. it was a suicide and they wouldn't understand because they didn't know her 3. she was trans and they're really conservative 4. I don't know if my heart is ready for it 5. I don't know if I'm ready to revisit it yet again 6. I don't know if I ever will be But I also want to read it because 1. I can't not 2. I feel I have to 3. I need to 4. I don't want to and that makes me feel like I should I don't know if I'll ever stop being angry at her for doing it. I don't know if I'll ever stop being angry.
It's really important to have friends who can allow you to be more than you are. It's important to have friends who know you're a sarcastic little shxt and still let you be sweet, or who know you're soft and fluffy and kind and let you snap, 'pxss off' without batting an eyelid, or who tease you for being the mum friend and when you shuck the responsibility for a bit and need somewhere to rest your own head their shoulders are ready and waiting. It's important to have friends who let you stretch who you are; explore and grow.
am i allowed, though? to love the way you make me feel about myself to transfer self-love to you until i can take it up agai to be happy when i talk to you because you love t a l k i n g t o m e , t o o ?