unlearning problematic behavior is a long ass process

you will fuck up

handle it gracefully.

It’s also… you’re not resetting to some sort of innate default. There isn’t a real core you that knows better and is above mistreating people; it’s — you’re learning a new skill. It’s not about purity. It’s about learning.

Reblogged from sloom


Walking through an endless tunnel of pain.

Reblogged from Even if it hurts.


Send your Confession to my Ask Box


Just when you think you’re fine.

Yesterday I went to the bank to sort out a few things with my account and things didn’t go how I expected them to. By the end of the visit I walked out just barley holding it together. I started crying half way to my car and once I got in and shut the door and I could barley breathe, I couldn’t stop crying and felt like I was drowning. It felt like it was never going to end but eventually (probably after 5 mins) I started to breathe and try to calm myself down. Eventually I got myself breathing properly but I couldn’t stop crying. I cried the whole way home and spent ten minutes in the garage trying to compose myself.
Once I got inside I collapsed on my bed and tried to forget about everything.
This is the worst I’ve been in a long time and It made me feel like I was so unstable and still prone to breakdowns. I hope this never happens again.
I remember standing in line at the bank after I had just had my accounts fucked up by the bank manager or whoever she was and I still needed to get my rent money so I was in line and trying to hold it together. This chick in the line a few people behind me was on the phone, talking in some language I don’t understand and that was driving me crazy and I could hardly keep myself from crying. I had to dig my fingernails into my thigh to take my mind off of things and the bank attendee was so nice it almost made it worse.





Columbia student will carry her mattress until her rapist exits school
September 2, 2014

While most students at Columbia University will spend the first day of classes carrying backpacks and books, Emma Sulkowicz will start her semester on Tuesday with a far heavier burden. The senior plans on carrying an extra-long, twin-size mattress across the quad and through each New York City building – to every class, every day – until the man she says raped her moves off campus.

“I was raped in my own bed,” Sulkowicz told me the other day, as she was gearing up to head back to school in this, the year American colleges are finally, supposedly, ready to do something about sexual assault. “I could have taken my pillow, but I want people to see how it weighs down a person to be ignored by the school administration and harassed by police.”

Sulkowicz is one of three women who made complaints to Columbia against the same fellow senior, who was found “not responsible” in all three cases. She also filed a police report, but Sulkowicz was treated abysmally – by the cops, and by a Columbia disciplinary panel so uneducated about the scourge of campus violence that one panelist asked how it was possible to be anally raped without lubrication.

So Sulkowicz joined a federal complaint in April over Columbia’s mishandling of sexual misconduct cases, and she will will hoist that mattress on her shoulders as part savvy activism, part performance art. “The administration can end the piece, by expelling him,” she says, “or he can, by leaving campus.”

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As painful as I know the constant reminder of attending school with her rapist must be, I’m glad she won’t be the only one forced to remember. I hope the rapist drops out immediately…or better yet, I hope he faces the justice he deserves. 

this is what a hero looks like

This woman is my fucking hero.

Reblogged from Memewhore
Reblogged from Anxiety Cat


do you ever start to get like really irrationally mad at people for no reason like because they’re standing around in the kitchen and won’t leave when you want to get some food or they move something you set down somewhere else or they forget to close the door when they leave like it’s just a stupid little thing but it makes you so mad


I think about dying but I don’t want to die, not even close. In fact my problem is the complete opposite. I want to live, I want to escape. I feel trapped and bored and claustrophobic, there’s so much to see and so much to do but I somehow still find myself doing nothing at all. I’m wasting every second, even now I’m writing this when I should be out there. I should be living. I’m still here in this metaphorical bubble of existence and I can’t quite figure out what the hell I’m doing or how to get out.

Reblogged from 💋

When you feel like cutting but you don’t wanna relapse so you just sit there thinking and no one notices the war going on inside you