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#i was very mentally ill
stil-lindigo · 11 days
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lead balloon (the tumblr post that saved me)
if this comic resonated with you, it would mean the world to me if you donated to this palestinian family's escape fund.
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no creative notes because this isn't that kind of comic.
I know I don’t owe any of you anything but I still felt compelled to write about my long term absence. And I feel far enough away from the dangerous spot I was in to be able to make this comic. I have a therapist now, and she agreed that making this could be a very cathartic gesture, and the start of properly leaving these thoughts behind me. I am still, at seemingly random times, blindsided by fleeting desires to kill myself. They’re always passing urges, but it’s disarming, and uncomfortable. I worry sometimes that my brain’s spent so long thinking only about suicide that it’s forgotten how to think about anything else. Like, now that I've opened that door for myself, I'll never be able to fully shut it again. But I’m trying my best to encourage my mind in other directions. We'll see how that goes.
I am still donating all proceeds from my store to Palestinian causes. So far, I've donated over $15K, not including donations coming from my own pocket or the fundraising streams which jointly raised around $10K. In the time since I made my initial post about where this money would be going, the focus has shifted from aid organisations to directly donating to escape funds.
If you'd like to do the same, you can look at Operation Olive Branch, which hosts hundreds of Palestinian escape funds or donate to Safebow, which has helped facilitate the safe crossing and securing of important medical procedures for over 150 at-risk palestinians since the beginning of the genocide.
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abracadaze · 2 years
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i feel so bad for nikola tesla like imagine spending years beefing with a guy who has conned the public into believing he's some sort of supergenius when in reality it's his overworked employees developing all of his world-changing inventions and you end up dying broke and starving and alone and then 100 years later another guy cons the public into believing he's some sort of supergenius when in reality it's his overworked employees developing all of his world-changing inventions and he's doing it all IN YOUR NAME. he must be rolling in his grave like a fucking rotisserie chicken
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inkskinned · 1 year
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something bad happened to you, and you died, and you came back wrong.
not wrong all the way. the little ways. you forget important dates, stopped going out with friends. it's harder to make you smile. you're apathetic towards things you used to love, afraid of places you used to go to cheer up. quieter. flinching. different.
you came back for love. you're still here for love. what pulled you back was a brightness so loud that even death couldn't outshout it. death heard the call and smiled at you and said okay. go home. somebody is waiting for you.
but you came back different. like lot's wife; you've turned into salt. you used to chirp through life in hops and skips; but now you lose skin just standing up. you have to move slower, skimming across this world without-touching-it. most things feel dull - until they're suddenly all-too-much. life, and being alive just rushes up and over you and you get hopelessly crushed.
you try to explain it to them: it is ugly, but this is what you are, now. the huge golden hoop of your halo now a little bronze ring. you are still watering your plants and wearing the same clothes. after all, you worked hard to come home. this life; so odd and off-color, now that you are wrong.
but they waited for you - it's just that they wanted the "you" that happened before this. the "you" that could sing in the show and hug people tight and look at a blade without breaking down to cry. the you with a smile in pictures. god, holyshit, it's like looking at a completely different person, isn't it. that other-you; the one they actually wanted.
you are the consolation prize. you are the body that forgot the ghost. you are the memory of the bad thing, and the death after; like you are wearing that memory as a banner. you are a fragment, an assembly. simulacrum. you don't make eye contact in mirrors, afraid the light will glance off and your true nature will flash back at you.
you hear them talk about it in their hushed, desperate whispers. sometimes they even admit it to your face; harsh and violent, acid thrown at christmas dinner. god, can you just fucking be normal again. you do not remember what normal is. you had to climb so far to get back here; you are far too exhausted. you want to open the glass door of your heart and show all the gears. can you help resolve whatever got messed up?
you try so, so hard. you came back for them. because you believed they would love you, even when you were so horribly broken. because you believed they would be patient. because you believed unconditional meant "without exception." you cannot do things the same way. you just get tired too quickly these days.
you want to put them on a couch and pour them the tea with hands that shake more than they remember. you want to line them up and draw them a map of where you have had to wander. you want to show every bruise in a backsplash; the little helpless ant of your soul carrying all that weight, over and over. you want to say: yes! it is different! but i did it for love!
you want to say: "i'm not the same, but i'm yours and i'm here. can that be enough?"
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dead-core · 3 months
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part of knowing me is watching me self-destruct. you cannot save me, you cannot fix me, and you cannot stop me.
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stripeyworm · 5 months
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your manic pixie dream girl and nightmare bad boy all in one I love binggeyuan sooo much. If I'm MIA, it's because I've fallen into quite the rabbit hole lately and going into hibernation!!
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bl0w-m3 · 8 months
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autumnalmess · 2 months
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Hey man sorry I've not posted in a while, it's a funny story actually. I actually got arrested for stealing bread for my sister and her seven starving children. yeah, it was pretty bad. I tried to escape 3 times so yeah I got 19 years, yeah and then I broke my parole and now there's this slutty little man after me, yeah I think he has a crush on me or smt idk
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thesandlorde · 4 months
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you should know I could never make it work
it's pretend, really // do you like the way the water tastes?
it's like gunfire
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kitamars · 5 months
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in my ponykata feels rn
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obsob · 11 months
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here is the root of the root and the bud of the bud!!
✷(print shop)✷
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kalichi09 · 5 months
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part 2 of this
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oakbuggy · 5 months
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a little p2 to this post !
full thing on ao3 as always hehe
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inkskinned · 7 months
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for a second, you did the bad thing and bargained about it.
if it meant that you would never be numb like this again, what would you give up?
maybe it's the childhood stuff or the religious trauma or how your dad doesn't believe in medication, but this is how you are, right. you need to have a counterbalance. suffering has to have its own reward. there needs to be a point to it. and if you're happy - if you could just be happy, and the world could actually fill in enough space that the edges of your spirit actually meet the horizon of your body - you would need to pay for it.
your passions? that one seems fair, but how could you actually be happy without them. well, you'd never be numb again, so maybe you'd be able to find joy in the small things like you used to. gleeful, you'd make coffee and breakfast into an artform. you'd find a way to make it make sense, somehow. you'd move on. it'd be different, but it would be doable.
your lover? your friends? this would be hard. you owe so much to your community. still, you could maybe make yourself a small home in the woods. you could live a quiet life, one devoid of friendship - but also without this horrible grey mist. a life like bigfoot, then. you'd figure out how to make the most of it.
your hair. your teeth. all of it.
sometimes you are jealous of mental illness as it appears in media: a big stroke of a meltdown, a firestorm that resolves prettily in therapy. it is flashing lights and thin teenagers. you've absolutely had breakdowns that stole the show - but life after resolved into a pixel art of things you managed to piece together afterwards, not a tapestry of a heart made suddenly-beautiful. that people could pick up blades as if they weigh nothing, that the way it all appears is as a cry for help, not a slow backsliding.
you have to stop the thought: i'd give up everything.
but also - be real. you'd never give up your dog. nor your best friend. nor the way you feel walking while through deep fog. you'd never give up the last bonfire of summer, the reckless laughter of halloween. so you do still love things.
maybe that's the problem: you know it should be easier. you have everything you could possibly want. so how come you are still trapped? still yearning?
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nymphacae · 14 days
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happy b4 day to all who celebrate
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caeslxys · 9 months
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inhales. imogen is such an amalgamation of so many different cr villains thematically and in her motivations that the most profound difference between them is very simply that she wants and therefore chooses to be good and kind at every turn.
she is delilah's love and ludinus' wrath and lucien's increasingly blind desire for power and liliana's fear and otohan's purpose and she is none of those things at all. THE most character of all time. exhales
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"why don't you have a job?"
i can't find one that will hire/accommodate me or that i qualify for, bc i'm disabled.
"be a cashier!"
requires long hours of standing, which i can't do, or has a physical requirement of being able to lift 40+ lbs from the floor to above shoulder level, which i also can't do. some companies go so far as to expressly state that reading body language is required for this position, which i am very bad at.
"well you could buss tables!"
long hours of standing, a lot of walking, bending, lifting, carrying, all of which i am not capable of doing for extended periods of time.
"just work from home!"
doing what? it hurts to type, i have a hell of a time trying to figure out new software, no one in any work from home job i've ever done has communicated adequately which always results in me being in trouble, sitting for too long is painful.
"walk dogs or smth!"
again: can't do long walks. also, can't be reliable bc of flare ups and such (which applies to all of these, really).
"start your own business!"
with what money? with what product? art? can't consistently do it. music? not that either. sewing crocheting scrapbooking writing? nope nope nope nope. plus, i struggle so hard w/execution dysfunction that one of three things would happen: 1) i would make and create and package and send and nothing else ever. or 2) i would do unrelated stuff that needs to be done and never create or package or ship. or finally 3) i would never do anything ever bc brain refuses to cooperate and all the tasks are overwhelming.
"idk, be a crossing gaurd or smth!"
see previous statements.
"collect shopping carts!"
see previous statements.
"post office!"
see previous statements.
"electrician, plumber, hvac!"
see previous statements.
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