A Bad Day Interrupted

A Bad Day Interrupted

A bad day, just like so many others lately. No matter how you tried, moments of actual contentment and joy never seemed to last quite long enough to be a mental break from everything. You have been severely depressed for little over a month, but it seems like you finally ran out of tears. Good, you hated making people worry about you.

Looking at the time on your phone, you are disappointed it isn't time to go home. Work isn't bad; the work is easily completed in time and you work with the nicest people you know. However, it is exhausting to consciously keep up the charade of being happy.

You are concerned for yourself. Nothing had happened, you just awoke one day and just been depressed since. On top of that, you are also anxious and self-abusing. Not physically, though the gnawing in your stomach reminds you that you are not eating as much as you probably should.

A lot of the abuse is mental; the thoughts in your head ripping you down to the lowest level of self-deprecation you have ever been. Words are weapons and they are inflicting so much pain.

You look at your phone as it buzzes. A message from your boyfriend/girlfriend/husband/wife/whomever. Upon opening, it is a small video clip of a panda cub sitting on a rock. It sneezes so hard it topples over and you can't help but chuckle, smiling a genuine smile for the first time all day.

They knew you were going through personal issues and were helping you look for a good therapist. Everday, they would find ways to show thier love in addition to texts and saying so. You feel guilty but accepted the extra affection, reciprocating the affection as best as you could.

One day at a time, with the love of your life making sure you make it through.

Because you would and have done the same for them.

Physically in pain, mentally having a crisis of self, and emotionally happy. 🙃 How are you?

🤗

HELLOOO MY LOVELY !! how are you :)))

everyone that follows me….

IMMA TOUCH U🫵🏻👹

A general reminder—periodic cicadas pose no threat to anyone and their plant damage is limited to nipping off the ends of twigs. Please do not hose them with pesticide. They are slow and clumsy and confused and only want to make friends with other cicadas and eventually die of sexual exhaustion.

Yes, the screaming is a lot, but they’ve been extremely quiet neighbors for thirteen years, cut them some slack as they go through the most fraught time of their lives.

impostor syndrome: Oh no what if they can all tell that I'm an idiot who's not even supposed to be here, this is terrible. goblin mode: I am the idiot that they use to test whether something's idiot-proof, and boy is this place not up to code.

You are absolutely adorable and if I had a swimming pool, I'd keep you as a pet.

everyone that follows me….

IMMA TOUCH U🫵🏻👹