“Anna, please go back home, your life awaits.”
reblog if you:
- flinch away when someone touches you.
- panic when you accidentally break an object.
- get scared when someone walks behind you.
- feel your heart rate increase at every sudden noise.
- are easily panicked by slightly-louder-than-normal sounds.
- stare apprehensively at your bedroom doorway for hours at night.
- have trouble making eye contact with people.
- always feel either too mature or too immature for your age.
- simultaneously crave and be terrified of physical contact.
because i do all of these
gemstone848I do all of these
its-glum-and-dumbEvery. Single. One.
crootiamScience side of tumblr. What is this?
mooses-unicorn-in-the-tardisSigns of trauma/abuse at an early age
“What I say is true:
anyone can cook. But only the fearless can be great.”
hey there! actually my week have been a complete mess, i’ve my dance recital tomorrow and now is 10:37 pm and i’m still sewing one of my costumes. pls kill me
People have been asking how you are and where you’ve been, but all I tell them is that you broke my heart and walked away like nothing happened. I mean, yeah it really fucking sucked for me the first week, and the next, and the one after that. But it’s whatever now. I’m used to the fact that you’re gone. I’m just indifferent now. I don’t have too many overwhelming feelings anymore, just bits and pieces of old memories that make me wince every now and then because it cuts like glass. I try to remind myself that new ones replace the old ones. (Memories, I mean). It’s almost depressing to think that at one point, we thought that we were inseparable and that nothing could tear us apart. You even said it yourself. Isn’t it funny how the person who claimed us to be inseparable was the same person who tore us apart? Yes, you. The one who made me feel like I’ve never felt before. The one that I loved more than anything. But also the one who left me with nothing. Not even closure, not even the truth. I think that’s what I really need, but if I hear your voice or see your name light up on my phone screen, I might spontaneously combust. I’m doing fine, really. I think I’m getting better without you. I don’t need a good morning text to get through the day anymore, or the sweet lies you used to tell me. (Back then I thought it was the truth. I know better now.) Sometimes I think maybe we’re not for each other because I was taught that love never gives up. You gave up on me. All the things, thoughts, and emotions I invested on you. You gave that all up. I wanted to be everything you needed but I just wasn’t enough. You replaced me but I’m erasing you and I’m happy. I was taught that love never gives up, but now I’m giving up on you like you gave up on me. I guess it means I don’t love you anymore.
Well, you know how men are. They think “No” means “Yes” and “Get lost” means “Take me, I’m yours.”
Hercules (1997) dir. Ron Clements & John Musker
Fast car and blossoms by gregandarianne
Somebody’s got to tell him.
fun fact: trauma victims becoming obsessed/infatuated with what traumatized them (especially if that trauma came from abuse) isn’t creepy or disturbing. That’s literally a symptom of PTSD, and is often uncontrollable, so maybe don’t demonize people who get stuck or overly focused on their intrusive thoughts. We literally can’t control this.