A skeleton crew doesn't mean a site is going away (though it likely won't get updates and bugs/outages will take longer to fix), but just in case anyone is concerned, here's a link to instructions to download your entire blog

Dear god I hate hate being anxious. It's the worst feeling. I've been having a fucking 4 day long anxiety attack and I can't fucking do anything at all about it. And it feels like nobody really understands how fucking debilitating this is. I can't sleep. I can't eat. My stomach always hurts. Physically hurts! Physically pain. Constantly for fucking days. I would do unspeakable things for this to stop. I'd do just about anything at all that I was asked to do if it meant this would stop. I can't keep doing this. I don't have access to medication. I can't use my old unhealthy coping mechanism because I'm trying to be better or something. I can't fucking keep doing this. I want to delete all my social media and drive in a car 3 towns away and never talk to anyone else ever again. I want to fall off a building and be comatose for months. But I can't do those things. They wouldn't even solve.the problem. They'd just make more. I can't be left like this to panic for days. It's literally what my parents used to punish me. "We'll have a conversation about this but I won't tell you when" like that just makes me panic for days. I can't keep doing this man. How am I supposed to live with so many of my days being spent like this.

Blythe Baird, from If My Body Could Speak; “Concerns from a hot-boxed jeep”

[Text ID: “How do I stop / carrying everything / that had ever / happened to me?”]

Richard siken / dave eggers

I need an old gay punk to give me advice

hmm i should sleepy. *ten million explosions

Being angry kinda feels like eating melted gummy worms

It's gross, unpleasant, and kinda nauseating

But you're hungry

Or maybe just tempted

So you indulge in the regrettable

Is being an adult just repeating "I'm a big boy I can handle one bad afternoon" over and over until you die?

E sounds like swedish fish

Somewhere along the way I told a friend her voice sounded like pop rocks.

She took it as a compliment then,

But as time goes on I think I might have been wrong

She sounds more like those rainbow sour candy strips

More smooth and planned

I'm pop rocks,

More broken up, sudden and unpleasant

I don't see the world in black and white, it's more bright pink and shit green

Thinking feels like swimming

though a lake made of molasses

full of chucks of

salt rocks.

The rocks don't change much about the experience

as long as you don't accidentally kick one

(then it hurts)

but it does make things extra unpleasant

if you accidentally open your mouth.