Dare to be: REMARKABLE.

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See, that’s what the app is perfect for.

Sounds perfect Wahhhh, I don’t wanna
teakayblog
chizuu

i genuinely hope anyone ages 13-15 on this website (or, god forbid, younger) stays safe and keeps their private information secure and really private 

please, if you’re really young on tumblr, try not to get swept up in the discourse and the tremendous amount of arguing with strangers that goes on here. i know you probably feel mature for your age but this website, like, really psychologically affects youth, and i encourage you to be cautious about your interactions with people on here

 please, kiddos, stay safe

chizuu

additionally, for my young, non-adult followers,

  • depression memes about wanting to die aren’t a healthy coping mechanism and can lead to worsening symptoms of your own mental health if overindulged in
  • you are not garbage. or trash. i know these terms are popular on here, but you shouldn’t be calling yourself that. you have everything you need inside of you to become your best self, even if it’s hard to see that
  • seriously, really don’t trust adults who want to date you. don’t trust adults who call you hot, flirt with you, ask you sexual questions, or ask you for nudes. (that last one is VERY illegal, also, please get help from a trusted non-creepy adult if this happens to you)
  • the opinions of complete strangers who aren’t interacting with you typically aren’t worth it. move on, use the block button. it’s not worth engaging with people who are going to make you feel awful or unsafe
  • take breaks from tumblr if it’s getting really stressful for you. talk to friends if you’ve got em, play a videogame or do whatever it is that can take your mind off the massive amounts of Hell on this website
  • recovery is good. it’s really, really good. if you’re having mental health issues, please seek out help if you can, or ask a trusted adult or friend for guidance. you are not alone. don’t let this website make you feel like you are
life advice truth stay safe safety

A Notebook

I bought a notebook today. A new notebook that’s black and has gold arrows on it. Arrows to remind me to always go forward. Always keep moving in the direction of my future. It’s the perfect size notebook and even has a special spot for the date on each page and a bookmark attached. 

I brought this book home, unpacked my things, and then just held it close to me. 

I can’t write. 

Physically, I can’t write. 

I had wrist surgery this past year, I had broken my wrists 5 years ago. And now here I am. Unable to write. Unable to write without pain. Unable to write without remembering a trauma never forgotten. 

A trauma I would kill to forget. 

I bought a notebook today in hopes I can return to normal. In hopes I can go forward towards my future. 

A future that may not be what I hoped it would be.

I miss writing broken wrists upset not fair pain heartache

Here I am

I just took six weeks off from work so that I can heal from my last wrist surgery. I was supposed to go back today, but 2 days ago, just as I was beginning to drive again, I was making my way from my house to the car when I slipped on some black ice and of course landed straight on my wrist (the one recovering from surgery). This ended with painful cries out from me and no one came to help. I eventually was able to get myself up, walked to my car, drove to my therapy appointment on adrenaline only. After my appointment it occurred to me I could not drive with the pain I was in and what is needed of driving. So I then went straight home and ended up getting a ride (luckily I have some good friends) to the emergency room. Nothing was broken, and they put me in a splint to check in with my surgeon the next day. So yesterday I saw my surgeon. The plan was for him to sign off on me being able to start work today. Nothing was damaged in the fall, but I am back to working my way out of a splint again and I have another 2 weeks off from work. 

On top of all this, there is the added frustration that at least 2 of my roommates were home and no one heard my cries of pain. No one came to check to see if I was okay. No one responded to my text letting everyone know I had fallen due to them not putting salt down on the ice and was in the hospital. Essentially, no one cares. So I’m in a more urgent situation where I want to move out. I am dying for it. I have been avoiding my housemates. The littlest things they do now have been bothering me to the extreme. I cannot handle it. 

I also then for school had to ask for an extension (I never do this, especially since I am in grad school and am too stubborn to). Luckily the professor is pretty great and is asking me when I would like to get my paper in by, but I can’t help but beat myself up. I can’t focus on my readings at home, and I take blame for everything. I can barely get out of bed in the mornings… in the evenings even. It’s been awful. 

On top of all this, I had surgery on my other wrist months ago and I can barely write two sentences without pain. For me, a writer, this has been a curse. So I spoke to my Occupational Therapist about this and finally found out I am holding my pens the wrong way. So now on top of everything I am relearning how to write.

I am so stressed I feel as though I can barely breathe, and yet so many people just don’t understand. I keep getting messages like “at least it isn’t your dominant hand” or “I slipped on ice 2 weeks ago, I get you”. Like that is supposed to validate my pain or make me feel better. It doesn’t.

invalidated pain stress life need support support help