Sometimes I Really Hope There's No Afterlife. I Just Really Hope There's Nothing But Sleep.

Sometimes I really hope there's no afterlife. I just really hope there's nothing but sleep.

Current mental state: you know when you are making toast and finally get it buttered to perfection and then drop it, butter side down on the floor? Thats me. That feeling. All the time.

queer culture is still having an active tumblr blog in 2021

My narcissistic, abusive, super religious mother once told me that me being raped was my fault because I had led him on....by holding his hand.

Wake me up (scream at me to let me know) when September ends (when ao3 is back up)

Sometimes I feel like I don't even know myself. I do so many things that are contradictory.

Am I the good Christian girl that wanted to wait for marriage and never even felt tempted to sip alcohol?

Am I the girl who snuck dating apps on her phone and talked to lots of men?

Am I the girl that worked at a pizzeria and flirted with everyone for tips?

Am I the girl that wasn't allowed to wear makeup until she was 18?

Am I the girl who has body image issues because of her mothers abuse and manipulation?

Am I the girl that lies flawlessly or the girl who values honesty??

Am I the girl that has panic attacks over her estranged mother liking her Facebook post?

Am I the girl that was sexually abused or the girl that survived?

Am I the girl whose whole life fell apart or am I the girl who stepped up and raised her younger siblings?

Am I the girl who cowered in the corner or am I the girl who threw her father off of her mother?

Am I the girl who is still scared or am I the girl who broke the cycle of abuse?

I guess I'm all of these things.