#tw; suicidal ideation | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

ajokeformur-ray · 1 year

Text

I've been meaning to write that gush post 2019!Erika style like I promised a few days ago but I keep watching the typing thingy blink at me on the screen and I just ???? How am I supposed to put into words how much Arthur Fleck means to me??? How can I do it? How am I supposed to articulate the fact that he's been my rock every day for the last (almost) four years?

How do I tell you about the sheer number of times I've been on my bathroom floor at 3am sobbing into my hands, trying so hard not to make a sound so I don't wake anyone up, and the only reason I've had it in me to brush off my tears, stand up and face the day is because of, smile, through your fear and sorrow, smile, and maybe tomorrow... or that's life, that's what all the people say... or step step step step step? How am I supposed to tell you that I have problems with food and it's easier for me to skip a meal but I have to actively coax myself into making something to eat, and most if not all of the time, I go and make myself food because eat, you need to eat (if food is pre-prepared, I have NO problem. It's just the effort and energy behind making the food which stumps me but I'm working on it)?

How do I tell you about all the times I get so frustrated with the work-study imbalance or not understanding something in my psych or counselling books that I end up banging my head on my desk and then I remember how horrified I feel every time Arthur does the same, and I stop because I'm sure he'd be horrified if he walked in on me doing it? How do I tell you about how, in my darkest moments, even when my cat can't get a smile out of me, Arthur can? How do I tell you that most mornings, on my way to work, I'm yawning, then chugging some coffee, wiping tears of frustration and/or exhaustion away, then yawning again, chugging coffee... for forty five minutes, this is my commute to work (and then from work), and sometimes I stop and do I have to do this again? I just did it yesterday and the day before and I'm tired but then I'll think about how soul-deep exhausted Arthur always was but he did it anyway and therefore, so can I? How do I tell you about all the times I've wanted to quit uni or I've been awake for 32 hours without a nap or any rest due to clashes between work and uni schedules or I've been awake until 3am working on assignments for uni only to then get up at 5am for work and I've been so tired I have cried every time I'm left alone, and I've wanted to quit uni and my job but ultimately I've picked myself up and got back in the race, that's life... and carried on because I started this for Arthur, because he and he alone inspired me so deeply that I took up a job which allows me to help vulnerable people, while doing a degree which will allow me to even further help people? And I've thought of quitting, baby, but my heart just ain't gonna buy it, and if I didn't think it was worth one single try...

How do I say any of this to you in a way which satisfies my heart that it's said everything correctly? How do I tell you any of these things in such a way that the sheer gravity of what he's done for me is properly articulated and put across?

I can't do it.

I just... I can't.

I don't even feel like I can say I love Arthur because it feels like such a silly statement when I compare it to the deep ache in my chest, the way I smile so hard it actually hurts my face, the way he makes the worst of days feel like they ultimately don't matter much because at least I can crawl into bed and watch him on a screen and feel like I'll be okay in the end, because how can I not be when he's up there on my screen, struggling but trying his hardest, and I'm doing exactly the same thing? If Arthur can handle it, so can I. Because no matter how bad my days get, I have some constants - my hair, coffee, music, my cat, my friends on here, fiction - but Arthur... he's the constant constant. He's seen me through grief, loss, tragedy, panic attacks, anxiety attacks, health scares, doctors appointments, operations, interviews, dentist appointments, fear, worry, stress, sorrow, sadness... through all of that, he's helped me to get back on my own feet and take another step, even if that step is right up on my tip-toes because I can't handle a proper step. But he's also seen me through happiness, joy, elation, pride, achievement, progress, he's seen me so happy I've cried, so excited I've squealed and jumped up and down and spun in circles while giggling, he's seen me through the last four years of my life and I'm sure he's gonna be with me for the rest of my life.

I don't know what our lives would look like together. I used to imagine it so vividly, but I'm not the same person I was four years ago - thankfully - but now I can barely see Arthur loving me. I mean, I know it, but I don't know it. Not like I used to. I feel like I've grown so much in this time that he would look at me and not be able to recognise me. My hair has grown out from when it used to be just like his in terms of length, and now it's just two or three inches away from my tailbone, I have glasses now, my room is always a mess because I don't have the time to clean it but if I do have the time, then I don't have the energy, I'm always a good few weeks behind on uni work, I'm always tired, and I just... even now, I look at Arthur and I look at me and I just can't... how??? And yet, at the same time, I have a firm belief that he and I would be a slow burn; we're both painfully shy but I always reach a point where it's like I get sick of my own shit and that's when I act, so maybe I'd be the reason we even talk to each other right in the very early days.

The way I envision our life together now is not at all how I used to envision it and I'm grateful for the change in perception but also I worry that as I am now, our 2019 Arthur wouldn't love me. But perhaps that's just my self-destructive streak making noise; it's much louder when I get stressed and unfortunately for me, I'm always stressed and tight-chested. Between a highly physically and emotionally demanding job which, even when I'm not on shift, I am still dealing with work commitments and group chats and stuff like that, and university, I am swamped, but then I get changed out of my work uniform and slide my Arthur hoodie back on or I come home and grab my Joker cushion and hold it tight or I get out of the shower and put my rings back on, and I feel like I can breathe again.

I would take every punch, every hit, every insult, every rude word, every glare, every 'joke' his co-workers make, I would take everything if it meant that Arthur would be healthy and safe and protected and cared for and loved. I want to take all of those violent marks and bruises across his body and replace them with love, make him feel like he can come home to me every night just like I get to come home to him every night, too. I feel most myself when I watch Joker because I see 2019 Erika, 2020 Erika, 2021 Erika, 2022 Erika, and now 2023 Erika is seeing all those Erikas, changed and new, and seeing an Arthur who is never changing and always the same, and I always find myself in this film. It's my true ultimate comfort and I wouldn't be here or be where I am without this film or without all the things Arthur has taught me. He's made me kinder, gentler, softer, he made me realise what I want to do in life, and I am forever grateful to the man who saved me. I've said it before, not in great detail, but the people who know, know; Arthur saved me. Oncoming traffic was too strong a temptation before I walked into the cinema on the 4th October 2019, and when I walked out, I found myself stepping out of the way of the road so I could go back the next day to see Joker again. And I did. Again and again and again and again until I looked at myself and realised I hadn't seriously thought about traffic or cliffs for months.

And since the day I realised that, I haven't once looked back. I only glance over my shoulder now and then to see how far I've come, and then I face my front again and step step step step step -

And I keep Arthur tightly in my heart all the while because I'm scared that if I let go of him for even a SECOND, 2019 will become my reality once again. It almost is happening again, I'm right on the edge, but I'm holding onto Arthur tightly. I'm keeping him right here with me to remind me that he is my reason. For my life, for my job, for my degree... I want to be someone he would be proud of, someone he could look at and love as deeply as I love him. He's a beautiful tragedy and I love absolutely everything about him. Everything. And we all know that Joker is the part of Arthur I always lean to the most, he's the one I think of for anything, he's the one I picture holding me when the world has me on my knees in my bedroom or in the bathroom, he's the one I picture brushing my hair and braiding it, he's the one I picture through it all, and I don't know if the start of Joker would bring about an end to what Arthur and I have or if he would only deepen it... I don't know if Joker would love me too but I do know that I only love him more because he's Joker. His lap is my crimson throne, his body is my weighted clown blanket, and I... I don't feel like I can say I love him, as I said, it seems silly in comparison, but it's the only phrase I have.

All I know is, if I thought I had even half a chance with Arthur, I would break down every carefully constructed wall around me, every promise to myself, and I'd let him in. I swore, almost six years ago, never again, but four years ago, I swore that I'd let one man in. Just one.

Arthur. Joker. Carnival. Whomever he is, he's my one and only, and I wish I could say even half of this stuff to him.💖

#tw; disordered eating #tw; negativity #tw; i get personal #self-shipping #erileck #tw; suicidal ideation

26 notes · View notes

carnivoraformes · 23 days

Text

@bishonenprince asked, "🫂 to give my muse a comforting hug ". - Jing Yuan

— ARE YOU OKAY? || Status: Accepting

He felt pathetic for even doing this, he was a damn General. He was supposed to be strong, never falter or break. He was allowed to bend but only so far lest he become broken and useless.

And yet he leaned into Sora's touch. Yearning for it like he had never yearned for someone else's touch in hundreds of years. His grip was tight, part of him a little nervous that maybe he was clinging on to tight but he couldn't bring himself to loosen up.

Hiding his face in Sora's shoulder he tried to breath. It was a struggle to catch his breath between bouts of sobbing.

He was so tired. He wished he could just turn away, not have to look back. Let Fu Xuan take the helm like he had promised her he would so long ago, whether she was ready or not be damned. Leave behind the Luofu forever.

But he couldn't be so selfish. She had far yet to come and that boy of his had so much potential. He would make a great warrior one day, he just had to be patient. Wait for Yanqing and Fu Xuan be ready to stand on their own and once the day came they no longer needed him he could disappear in silence.

Be a long dead General like the man that came before him.

#bishonenprince #v; disciplined in body mind and soul (main verse) //#tw; suicidal ideation #//is this payback for what i sent this morning?#//because i regret nothing

2 notes · View notes

pureposer · 2 years

Text

Hazuki Sighed as he Laid on top of the Government Building, close to the Edge as he had Straightened One Arm flat Against the Roof as he Used his Other Hand to hold a Piece of Paper. A Script, more or less, On what to Say. He was simply Proof Reading it, on what to Say and everything.

He won't be falling though - oh no! He still had much to do! Though he'd be Lying if he Said he hadn't done something. The Arm Against the Roof Showed that.

Cuts decorated his Arm, and rather deep too.

But Hazuki didn't Care. He can Heal himself, but now he has to Focus. Focus on what's Best for the...Situation.

Joshua. He couldn't Forget his Sob. His Wail. Any of it. Like Nails Against a Chalk Board, a Chalk Board that is everlasting. And although he didn't Understand how Upset he Felt, he knew that it was Bad.

Hope and Hanekoma. He was still so Grateful Hope showed up after Hanekoma Stabbed himself, even if he didn't show it.

And Rindo! He will never forget how Angry he seemed. He would have never expected him to be Angry. But, looking at it overall, he put Rindo's Efforts on Saving his Friends to Waste, as what he did to that Ginger.

Neku.

Neku...Is someone he must to Apologize to. For Dragging him into a Unfortunate Mess. A Mess that he didn't want to Stain him. He thought he was doing the Right thing, but he Guesses that he wasn't. Heh...Surprising, isn't it?

He Turned his Head to look out to his City. A Weak Gaze indeed. The more the Events Played on his Mind, the more he doesn't Understand it all. He's...He's always right! How could he be Wrong? Is it so Selfish to think such a thing?

He Shifted to look over the Edge. He had seen so many Humans fall off High Places so...What if a Angel was to Fall? To Splat against the Pavement?

But, he can't think about that. Shinjuku needs him. And even if he barely Cares for this Place, he doesn't want it to be Both Producer and Composer-less! Not even for a Second.

But most Importantly, he has to do what he has to do.

For Joshua. He...Doesn't deserve to Loose someone he Cares for. He wanted to Fix this for Joshua and for Joshua Only. Not for Hanekoma. Not for Rindo. Because to him, after being shown such a Tear Fueled performance, Joshua cares the Most for Neku. And the Most is who he does these Things for.

And so he moved to Stand up, Tugging his Jacket Sleeve down and Pocketed the Script and Glanced up just...Wishing for the Best. And he's Already decided on who he'll Speak the Results to afterwards.

Neku. Because Neku has the Right to Hear about whatever will be Done with him first, if anything at all.

#tw; self harm #tw; suicidal ideation #study #mention: limitlesspossibilities (neku)#mention: strawberry-barista #mention: kingsmedley #mention: limitlesspossibilities (rindo)#mention: hopeful-hugz

5 notes · View notes

ladyimaginarium · 24 days

Text

cobra — megan thee stallion.

#arcana.uploads #she was so real for saying that shit #n e wayz THEY COULD NEVER MAKE ME HATE YOU MEGAN #tw; suicidal ideation #@ /nbh to be clear #y'all are chill

0 notes

rox-and-prose · 7 months

Text

the thing about living with mental illness for decades is that occasionally your brain will be like hey you're useless and should kill yourself and your only real reaction is cmon man right now im in the middle of something

#roxy writes #tw si #tw suicidal ideation

31K notes · View notes

harrowleaf · 5 months

Text

I'm not doing okay.

Ever since Luna died I feel like I've slowly but surely just been going with the flow, trying to keep my spirits up by keeping myself occupied... but I'm losing the fight. The pain has gotten worse with each passing day and the very second I start heading home from my internship I'm immediately overcome with the same cold numbness that I've been battling for three months at this point.

I've been trying to collect photos I took of Luna in a folder, but even just simply looking at them makes me cry and beg for her to come back. I still wish that all of this was just a bad dream. I feel like such a moron for clinging on to a false hope that she'd be okay. I feel like such a fucking idiot for not doing enough.

But I think the worst of all is that I'm just angry at my mother for making the decision to let Luna go without talking to me first. All I got was a phonecall that started with my mom howling that Luna was gone. And that was after she initially told me that everything would be okay.

Luna didn't want to die, did she? She just didn't want to be in pain anymore. I would've traded away everything to make sure that she would've had the surgery - paid the bills, given up the chance on this internship, heading to the house to make sure she would be fine and never alone. It feels as if my one act of idiocy led to the accident that caused her injury.

All the affirmations that she had a good life and that she wouldn't want me to be this miserable doesn't work on me anymore. Increasing my antidepressants dosage isn't working. I'm reaching a point where my therapist appointments have a 50/50 chance of making me feel worse.

She died because of an accident, but I might as well have been the one who killed her. Instead I'm left alone in a world that has turned its back on me. The impulses I get to suddenly want to run straight into traffic to be hit by a car or jump into the freezing waters have never felt more tempting. The desire to just go to sleep and never wake up becomes more and more fervent.

It should have been me who died. I wished it was.

#maria_menhera.txt #tw; suicidal ideation #tw; animal death #tw; trauma talk #(I'm so fucking tired of feeling like this but it just. won't stop.)

0 notes

bcrcavcd · 11 months

Note

⏰ + parents

The Past is in the Past | Accepting

The girl hears a knocking at her bedroom door. It's a sound she's used to, one that she hears every day now. She wished they'd stop. She wished they'd realize that she wanted to be left alone, but it had become habit at this point. Wendy knows better than to yell at them, though. Even if she didn't want them around, she couldn't stand that sad look in their eyes when she got upset.

"Wendy, dear?"

It was her father that had been chosen for this futile attempt. She does not address him, instead continuing with a book she'd chosen, one about the practice of dowsing crystals. Certainly, they might have something at home that might work.

"I know you like to be left alone, but Mrs. Langley from the library told us something a bit concerning about your choice of literature..."

Ugh, of course... She should have been more careful, but some of these books had some promising leads, so she had to research further... She had to work on that, for next time. They'd probably think she was contacting demons or something she didn't understand.

"I know you miss your sister, all of us do-"

Not like she did. Nobody could miss Abigail like she did, no one was closer to her than she was.

"And I've tried to be patient with you."

She didn't believe him. They'd both been coming back as often as they could. She couldn't fault that entirely, they probably wanted to make sure she wasn't going to do something rash. She'd considered it, sometimes. But having a sure method of communication was more important than crossing to the other side.

"But she's with God now, Wendy."

Stop that.

"Wherever she is, I'm sure she wouldn't want you to disappear."

Don't speak for her.

"Please, just talk to me."

"What do you want me to say?" her voice is hoarse, tears unshed still having an effect on her voice, with how rough and painful it shakes out. She needed to let it be known, now. "If she isn't here, then I'm alone. It isn't fair. It's just not fair..." It's not fair that Abigail was taken from her. They were ten. No one needed to be taken back when they were ten, when they had their whole lives ahead of them. Why would God do such a thing, to someone who didn't deserve it. And why did Wendy have to be alone?

Tears spill from her eyes, and the door opens from behind her. A reassuring hand touches her back, and she can't hide those emotions anymore. She holds onto her father, wetting his jacket as she cries.

She doesn't know how long she stays like this, but she knows it's the longest time she's taken a break from reading in who knows how long.

#tw; religious themes #tw; religious dissent #tw; suicidal ideation #useless and missing a piece {ic}#from the great beyond {answers}#relentless-understudy #before tragedy {past verse}

0 notes

compassionatereminders · 16 days

Text

Yeah it sucks how some neurotypicals have watered down the term trigger, but the solution isn't to claim that only severely traumatized people have triggers. Most mental health issues can be triggered. If you have OCD and something makes your intrusive thoughts spike up, that was a trigger. If you are autistic and something makes your sensory issues flare up, that was a trigger. If you have depression and something makes you have suicidal thoughts, that was a trigger. If you have anxiety and something makes it worse, that was a trigger. It isn't just PTSD which can get triggered

#disability #kat gets serious #suicidal ideation tw #trauma tw

2K notes · View notes

notaplaceofhonour · 2 months

Text

An American man self-immolated in the name of Gaza, and I’m seeing two different responses:

from American leftists, acting like it’s a brave/commendable thing while do

from Palestinians, begging people not to do this

This is a man who was incredibly mentally unwell and committed suicide, initially planning to livestream his suicide, and people are applauding it—which inevitably encourages more people to follow suit, throwing their lives away too. And for what? How has this helped Palestinians in any way?

Suicide is not the answer—not to your personal struggles and not to global conflict and geopolitical struggles. If you find yourself around people who are encouraging you to see suicide as a beautiful or commendable political act, get out.

Think of all the good things you can keep doing for Gaza if you keep living. Think of your loved ones. Think of your own life. Your life has value, and you deserve to keep living.

I think Ahmed Fouad Alkhatib, someone from Gaza, put it way better than I can in this tweet:

#don’t give in to despair #cw suicide #trigger warning #tw sui ideation #tw self immolation #i/p

990 notes · View notes

blueskittlesart · 6 months

Text

Now that you're gone

#*guy who just spent a full month selling 60 pages worth of comics voice* i should write another comic #this is part 1 of 2 btw. i have another one scripted from aryll's pov LOL #anyway. the concept for this has been in my head for like. years. finally decided to actually write it tho lol #the thought of his family after the initial calamity strike makes me crazy. they lost him. but he was already gone.#he was gone the moment he picked up that sword. could they have stopped it? should they have?#would things have ended any differently if they'd tried? or would it only have been worse for him?#ANYWAY. hi everyone new black and white zelda comic from the black and white zelda comic guy #skribbles #botw #loz #legend of zelda #breath of the wild #totk #tears of the kingdom #OH SHIT. TRIGGER WARNINGS #tw gore #tw suicide #tw suicidal ideation #<sorry 4 forgetting at first LMAO

2K notes · View notes

shiroi---kumo · 8 months

Text

tw; medical / generally uncomfortable situations / mental illness / work stuff under cut

Hi fam. We need to talk and my brain is labeling it as 'coming clean.'

So let's start with for those of you who do not know - I am clinically diagnosed with Bipolar 2 with Rapid Cycling - meaning I flip from depression to mania /hypomania at least once a month, sometimes more. Shit sucks.

So here's the dealio. Here's the newspaper update, shit ain't good right now. So before I get into this let me make one thing perfectly clear.

I'm not posting this to cry for help. I don't need people to fix my shit. I fix my shit. I'm giving you this so you have an update and an understanding of what is going on on the other side of the screen. This is a newspaper update. This is a "hey this is what is going on in my brain" update. I am not asking you to fix my problems NOR DO I WANT YOU TO.

Cool. We understand each other? Good.

Posting this kind of shit is hard for me so just - bear with me. I've been real quiet lately and not really online. I've put everything in the queue because then the blog stays rolling while I'm not here. I do like a massive update one day drop it all in the queue and then disappear again for days at a time.

Shit ain't good but it all came to a head yesterday at work.

I got unexpectedly drug into the HR office because my "hygiene was concerning". Guys, I'm a fucking custodian at a bar. Do you think I get dirty in a day? Oh I do. Apparently they don't understand the concept of a "dirty job". Anyway. I got cornered by HR and the head of facilities and told this was "coming from a place of love and concern for me" and being the info dumper triggered by trauma I am - I just started dropping shit on them and yelling.

I told them outright I've been struggling with suicidal ideation for the last week (longer but they didn't need to know that and it comes and goes. it's been super bad this last week.) But I just dropped that on work with no warning and my depression and a reminder that I am bipolar and they told me "you know you can come talk to us at any time." (HR and my Big Boss)

and It just triggered something in my brain and I snapped.

because my lead worker is not someone I can go to and has been bullying and threatening me for the last three years. So I went off about everything. How he told me I'm not allowed to talk to HR. How he won't stop ranting about how much he hates entertainment (department), how he used retaliation to punish me when I call in or do shit he doesn't like (like talk to HR). How I am literally too scared to apply for FMLA because I am scared of this man's repercussions.

I went the fuck OFF. I was cussing every other word. I held nothing back and even laughed in HR's face when she asked me if "I felt like I could be my true authentic self at work" to which she got me laughing obnoxiously and "FUCK NO."

And now they are all acting real squirrelly at work since I dropped the big bad S-word yesterday and they're watching me to make sure I'm okay and good and I told them I just lie to people and tell them I'm fine because my leader worker demands "positive attitudes at all times." to which I reminded them as someone who is bipolar asking this of me is literally impossible.

I explained I just want the ability to actually say at work 'it's no one's fault. My brain is just crashing so I'm gunna be quiet.' Because I am sick and fucking tired of getting told (by my lead worker) that "everyone says we're all grumpy" (as in all of housekeeping not just him)

I am sick to fucking death of it. So I went the fuck off and HR promised me there would be no backlash to this after they talk to him and I once again laughed in her fucking face.

"I know you don't believe me right now." "imma stop you right fuckin' there. No offense, but I'm scraping the bottom of the fuckin' barrel with my depression right now, so no I don't believe you and I don't believe fuckin' shit right now to be completely fucking honest."

So there's that.

My brain has been really upset about literally everything lately. I've felt on this weird island by myself and struggling with a lot of personal shit, but it's mine to fix. It's mine to set with. I just need a little time to sort my shit out.

The depression is bad. I'm here so much because I'm trauma blocking a lot of shit. Productive doesn't equal wellness. It equals me trying to cope in a way that makes it so I don't have to think about anything else. The "too busy to think" phenomenon. So yes my mind has gone suicidal in recent days. I won't lie to you but after getting fucking cornered at work about it, my brain is doing the "alright enough of that. Put the fucking mask back on and hide your shit better" game.

Guys I'm sick of hiding.

I write to cope. It's how I process. Art is my soul and it's how I function. I just want you to understand why you see so much shit coming out of me. It's not magic. It's overwork. I don't do anything else. Work just shoved me off a cliff yesterday and I got fed the "this is a safe space" line like six times and "we're doing this because we love you and care about you" and I realized my brain only translating it as anger wasn't where my emotions SHOULD be.

My crayons fell out of the box and the colors are all out of order. So if shit is slow I'm not ignoring you or it might be in the queue. If shit is lightning fast, well I'm probably coping with something.

Just - that's where I'm at right now.

#ooc || mun speaks #// to be deleted #// personal shit #tw; depression #tw; suicidal ideation #tw; mental illness #tw; bipolar #tw; all caps #tw; intense anger #tw; cornering #tw; excessive swearing

7 notes · View notes

ajokeformur-ray · 1 year

Text

Sometimes I wanna talk about the very real ways in which Arthur Fleck saved my life in 2019, but I never do so to the full extent because a) it would most likely trigger some people and I don’t wanna do that at all, especially not in the name of expressing myself, and b) some things are meant to stay between you and the bathroom floor at 3am.

It’s impressive how many times Arthur Fleck has given me the strength to save myself, to scoop myself up off the floor at 3am after crying my eyes out, to not follow my intrusive thoughts of cutting all my hair off because I feel so often like I don’t deserve happiness and my hair is one of the few parts of my body I truly love and feel a connection to, to make a meal when I would rather skip and let myself rot, to not want to go to work but doing it anyway because I know it’s what he would want, to take my time brushing my hair because he wouldn’t want me to hurt myself just to get it done faster, to take care of myself when I just don’t care anymore, to try when I don’t think I have it in me anymore… the amount of strength, joy, courage, determination, and “I’ll just do it for one more day” I’ve received from him, is immeasurable. I got a job in a care home, which gifts me with the opportunity of being able to help people because he inspired that in me. I’m doing a psychology with counselling honours degree because I want to help the real life Arthurs of the world, like my brother, who slip between the societal cracks never to return again unless someone is willing to dig them out. He changed my life, saved it, made it better, taught me better ways of being, healthier ways.

Arthur Fleck really DID save my life, he saved me in 2019 and many a time since, and I’ll forever and ever and ever be grateful for the fact that the world got gifted with such a phenomenal character. I’ll truly carry him with me forever, always trying to do and be in ways he would be proud of, as a way to honour all the things he’s given me the strength to do, all the times he’s helped me to save myself. I would not be HERE, I would not be who I am or where I am, if it hadn’t been for Arthur. It sounds so dramatic, but I can’t properly articulate the seriousness of this post. The people who know, though, know.

I just… I’m curled up in bed right now watching Joker and eating coffee ice cream to sign off the end of another busy day which is full of too much work, too much stress, and not enough time. My body isn’t enough, most days, for all the things I have to squeeze into one day every day, but here right now, under my Joker blanket and hugging my Joker cushion while I watch the film and let my body and mind rest, I feel the most at peace I’ve been all week. My chest is still a little tight, but by the end of the film, that’ll totally go away. Arthur literally and metaphorically makes it easier to breathe and that’s everything.

It seems a bit… redundant to say that I love Arthur Fleck, but I do. I really do.

#tw; vent #tw; suicidal ideation #(implication only but still obvious enough that I feel the need to tag it)#this is mostly an appreciation post for our clown boy

13 notes · View notes