But, of course. That’s too much like right. Makes too much sense. And hurts a lot less. My life hates that, apparently.

….but my bed is so toasty and warm. 

So, I’ll open Netflix instead.

super-eklectic1:

I’ve come to peace with the fact that I will never be anyone’s (especially someone that I want) first choice. I think I’m cool with that now. I believe that’s why I get away with doing so many things, why I’m allowed to be so outlandish and a bit reckless. It’s like “nobody’s checkin for me anyways so fuck it”. I think I like that type of freedom, the pressure’s off (no need to worry about how I look in pics, they’re all jacked anyway) so I can be “un lady like” as possible.

I never really thought of this before. I kinda like it :)

thorslovelymjolnir:

I have already replied to your post twice, and you know who you are.

Stop telling people its easy to stop bleaching ones skin when you’ve never EVER done it.

I hate to admit it, but I have, I did it for over 8 months and I was fucking proud. I thought there was nothing wrong with it. I would spend thirteen to fourteen hours a week on skin bleaching forums alone in my room thinking about what to buy. When i first received my first paycheck it went to skin bleach, the best i could afford and in under a week, i was a shade lighter. The compliments fueled my obsession with getting lighter skin and though people didn’t know they were “fueling the suds” persay, they were not making it easier. I had bleached my skin so light, I was mistaken for Asian or white all the time.I loved it. I flet like I had power and that I was pretty. People found me more attractive and when people asked me what are you i wouldn’t say “Oh im native and Creole.” I would say “I’m mixed with white and Asian  or some shit like “I’m native….but I’m mostly white.” Yeah, that was me. People would believe me, people would never even question it, and over time i was content that way. When i noticed i was getting darker, i’d wash three times a day just to make sureit would go away. I would overdose on suntan lotion because i was so light. No im sorry i wasn’t light, I was pale. Pale as Abraham Lincoln’s ass cheek. and i was goddamn proud. 

However, once I arrived on tumblr, i felt literally shamed for trying to bleach my skin. I started to love my people and i didn’t want to hide that anymore. I stopped bleaching…for like a week. But it doesn’t just STOP. you just don’t wake up one day and decide to stop. It’s mental and physical process. First you have to make the commitment  meaning throw out each bleaching product at a time. Don’t wash with it as much, and don’t pay much attention to it. Even though that’s hard to do, it’s needed. For me, i had to go to the extent of not looking in the mirror when i washed my face because I knew I would think I was too dark. I took showers but I avoided my bleaching soap and just let it sit there even though my urges were strong. 

Next I had to conquer all of it emotionally. I had to deal with losing friends who really didn’t like me or look at me the same because i didn’t look euro enough, i lost my ex boyfriend because he thought me bleaching my skin was “a great idea.” I stopped wearing green contacts and at the end of the day i received black jokes and “the wild indian” jokes from my ex Asian friends. My ex white friends thought they could talk about the n word like it was apart of normal speech thinking they could get away with it because they had someone they knew who was black. People started seeing how dark my skin became and to be honest the emotional damage was horrible. I tried to commit suicide not soon after and i just wanted it all to end. I would cry at night wishing i could just turn white, hoping all of this would go away. 

Once i came to tumblr and started to learn, I stopped caring. It’s hard for me to find black friends in texas still because i had rejected them for years and many of them know i was on my high horse of privileged and dont want to associate with me but i understand why. 

But basically what im trying to say is that, bleaching is a HARD process. you can’t just stop and you don’t just “stop’. it takes time and took me over a year to do it. So please, person im talking to, you havent bleached, you cant tell people its easy to just stop.

Just talked about this last week. 

• Got sick
• Lost some important documents
• Body aches
• Feeling frumpy
• Depression keeps beating my ass

It’s never been this bad. 

I feel so low.

I’ve never felt this low.

Like, really low.

I can’t help it.

My depression has never been this bad. 

Okay.

One of my loved ones is on her deathbed and she requested to see me.

I do not want to go.

I don’t want to go.

I do not want to be there.

Well, it’s not that I don’t want to go. I’m actually more afraid of what I will see when I get there and what she has to tell me. 

I’ve witnesed three friends of mine simply wither away and it messed me up, man. But especially now, at a time when I’m dealing wish issues of my mental health, I don’t think I can handle it. 
Handle seeing her.
Handle hearing her.
Handle what she has to say.
Handle the thought that after I leave, it may be the last time I see her.

However, I DO know that if she passes and I never got to talk to her and hear her out or at least see her before she leaves the Earth, that will haunt me and futher plunge me into depression.

Just thinking about it is making me frustrated and stirring up my anxiety. 

Torn. Frustrated. 

(In addition. Totally superficial, but pretty annoying. My medication is making me gain mad weight. I currenly weigh 180 lbs. Back at my “Start” weight from my last weight loss journey. Womp.

Things are all bad.

Just venting. 

Blah. 

“Call no man happy ‘till he is dead.”- Aeschylus