Tattered pieces
19 posts
Graymutiny - Silhouette - Tumblr Blog
No-one has ever disappointed me as much as my father.
No-one has ever been disappointed of me, as much as my father.
Almond supremacy
Check it out
The June's already here. How rude!
Benedict cumberbatch
T H I S I S U N R E A L
I fucking did it.
Bimbldun xinflbaeth
HOW TO (NOT) FEEL OVERWHELMED AS A WRITER
Life happens, ya'll. When it does, it hits hard and is unforgiving. And sometimes, the people in your life- as much they love you and vice versa- don't seem to understand why you're flailing about at 2 AM and crying into your cereal bowl.
Fear not, dear writer. I, too, have cried into a cereal bowl at 2AM and I will deftly defend your right to do so. But, allow me to offer... better... ways to deal with that overwhelming feelings of despair.
***NOTE: This does NOT replace professional advice in ANY way, shape or form. This is coming from someone who has a therapist. And this post is DEFINITELY not meant to down-play those who are struggling with mental health issues. You guys are amazing. I see you. Mmmkay?
Take deep fucking breaths, people. You're in it to fucking WIN IT.
"And, this too, shall pass..." is a good quote for a reason. Now, I won't get too much into Persian poetry. But basically, everything that has come to or ever will be, passes. This all-consuming feeling of anxiety or depression or doubt WILL pass.
Of course, your brain could be convinced but not your body. Which is why deep, calming breaths are essential to refocusing yourself. Go into your Don't-Touch-Me corner, hiss at everyone who comes near, and put on a five-hour rain drop loop on Youtube.
Also, you're a fucking WRITER. You create worlds out of nothing, give your characters hope and despair and love and hate. You can create political intrigue in a made-up empire or create a post-apocalyptic world. You are amazing and wonderful! Don't let shitty feels keep you down, you fucking superstar.
Write out your feelings. And no, don't do it from a character's POV.
This isn't an opportunity to write a story. I'm serious. Don't belittle or disrespect yourself by writing your feelings and struggles from a character's point-of-view. We may want to do it to lessen the blow, but then you bury yourself in a fictional world when your troubles are tangible and real. It's going to be hard and that's the point. Get it out of your head, but don't self-insert.
Feeling vulnerable isn't easy. But, the more you admit to the struggles you're having, the more you can identify and staunch the incoming shit storm. Will it get easier? Maybe. But, it sure as hell would be better than what's happening right now.
Talk to someone who knows the struggle - even if they're not a fellow writer
As in, a close friend or a colleague or a loved one. Or even better, a therapist. But, ESPECIALLY someone who won't judge you. Suuupperrr importante.
The reason? Sometimes when you're close to a situation, you can't often see the obvious. This is why we have beta readers, critique partners, and editors. As writers, we don't often see the faults, or the missing pieces, or what works and what doesn't because the stroy is our baby and it's perfect the way it is.
We have to remember, life is a lot like our stories. We don't often see the issues. We don't often see the good. And people -ya know, those freaking normies, gah!- can offer surprising insight and comfort.
Give it a try. Be patient. Be open-minded.
DO. NOT. GOOGLE. YOUR. SYMPTOMS.
I... I really shouldn't have to explain this.
If I catch you WebMD-ing yourself or thinking Tiktok "gets" you, I'm gonna smack you with a waffle-boot. DON'T DO THIS. PLEASE.
If you really, really think something is wrong with you, please seek professional help. I know not everyone can afford it. I know. I got hit with my bill last month and I'm panicking a little. But, it's worth it. It really, really is. I wouldn't let you fuck yourself.
Look for programs in your area. Reach out to someone in your community. Talk to the place you work and see if they offer a free or affordable program. But for the love of all things holy, DO NOT GOOGLE. PLEASE.
Allow yourself the break
Yes, you're gonna feel guilty.
Yes, your Imposter Syndrome might rear its ugly head.
And yes, anyone who is a complete asshole may notice you're not doing the "writing thing" and will point out the fucking obvious.
Deep breaths, smile... and tell them to fuck off. You DESERVE to have this break.
Creative people can't keep pushing out content. Burn out is a REAL thing and can happen to ANYONE. And there's no shame in it. Idfc who says otherwise. You need to reset and get your creative energy back. And it's not something that can be rushed. It'll take however long is needed. BE PATIENT WITH YOURSELF.
And that's it. That's my shit list for today.
This week has been ROUGH for me. For writing and... functioning in general. But, we have to remember to keep things in perspective, right? Am I feeling this because I'm overworked? Stressed? How often does it happen?
Just remember that you and your feelings are valid. It's the actions we take or the words we say that can invalidate how we feel.
And if you, dear writer, feel like this post is inappropriate... please let me know. It will be taken down. I felt like sharing what I go through and how I deal with this. But, I understand it may be triggering to some. Let me know. Or come talk about life with me. I don't mind. My page is open.
~ Happy Writing, Ya'll ~
Can we talk a little more about Keats?
And let's read his poetries to our loved ones, if we can't write for them.
My best friend once quoted him before me and I'm still trying to heal from that jolt of feelings I had in that moment.
So we gonna take a big mug of coffee because we are feeling anxious. Let's see how worse it could get.
I literally can die laughing like hell
PRIDE & PREJUDICE (2005) dir. Joe Wright
We are all fools in love.
PRIDE & PREJUDICE 2005 – Joe Wright
us Austen fans are always like *wistful sigh* where's my Mr Darcy? But you wanna know where the fuck he is????? You wanNA FUCKING KNOW? he's at home. avoiding all social situations, watching gossip girl with Georgiana and probably still recovering that time two weeks ago when the cashier said 'have a nice day' and he said 'no I'm fine thanks'. Where else would he fucking be?
I want to run away in woods, and live in a tree house. once in a while come out of it to collect food, then go back to hibernate again. I want food, cloth and a tree house. Thats enough. I can cut woods and sell them to earn. Can live alone the whole life, in my nest.
#musings #live #thoughts #write #wannalivealone #dontlookforme #iwantatreehousesobad #wannaliveinwoods
meirl
Last night in my dreams I met a man who was crying. He was sitting far from me so I walked to him, sat by his side and put my hands on his head, caressing him. He looked at me and I saw, he is my that classmate at whom I had crush when I was in 10th grade. He stopped crying, he remembered me? He turned away and felt uncomfortable. No, he didn't remember me. I smiled at him and brought him an ice cream, and that grown up man smiled like a child.
We were sitting in our 10th grade classroom and he gave me his headphones, his favourite playlist was playing. I jumped and he put his hand on my head, caressing me. I was happy, he was happy, We were friends. Finally. Atleast.
I wanna drown and die in your deep blue eyes. But all I could do is live a lifeless life because those eyes never look for me.
I had fantasies, I had dreams, and then I had you, who weren't willing to be a part of them.
Spellbound (Alfred Hitchcock, 1945)
I could easily forgive his pride if he has not mortified mine.
Jane Austen Pride and Prejudice
What if after my death, you will still find me sitting by that window staring at the moon in that moonlit night.
What if even when my body will be dissolved, my longing for you will still be breathing and my sobs will still be audible.
What if in those days you will miss me and in those nights I will come to soothe your ache and guilt of killing me.
What if we will, cross our path again on that moor pavement where once you walked holding my hand and later left me there to die.