Fucking thanks Dad for making me go to school despite what your loving wife, my doctor, and I said. I'm fucking bleeding, My nose and throat are stuffed to the point that I can't breathe, I'm trying to recover from a dangerously high fever, and I've already thrown up 12 times in the past 2 hours. To add to that, I can barely ground myself, my anxiety is a bitch and I have severe depression. You know, the depression that I'm leaving school because of? Speaking of which, fucking t h a n k y o u for telling me that I probably shouldn't do online schooling because "I choose tons of things I don't want to do and then I just don't do them. I'm lazy." Fucking thanks for getting angry when I didn't respond when you cheerfully said "I love you", after treating me like shit.

Omfg

I follow you because you're a fucking dry-ass walnut and ily.

Wooooowwwwwww ily2 you shit

(I'm going to update this later.)

... reblog this with your weird mental conditions/illness or weird things your brain does.. i want to know im not alone..

my mental condition causes weird-ass dreaming conditions.

(Sorry for the format, I’m on mobile.)

So, a bit of backround on this condition. It’s really two different things melded into one. Maladaptive Daydreamer Syndrome and Derealism & Depersonalisation. Maladaptive Daydreaming Syndrome, or MDS causes me to have extremely vivid, realistic daydreams and to have no control over my daydreams, but lucid dream at night. So it’s kind of switched, I can’t control what I do in my dreams when I’m conscious, but I can when I’m not. It makes it so I cannot stop myself from daydreaming. I’ll do it at random times, even during a conversation, while I’m reading a book, watching a movie, in class, even while I’m doing something that requires my full attention, I’ll somehow daydream. Like I said, I can carry out a full conversation without knowing a single word I said to you, or even that we spoke. I’ve gotten through multiple class periods without once leaving my daydream. (This is why I’m leaving school and doing online schooling) MDS also makes it so I remeber Dreams/Daydreams from the beggining of when I developed it (4 years ago) to now, I follow the same dream path, or plot, for a while. Like a story! I follow the same story line for a while until my experiences/surroundings/books I’m reading/music I’m listening to change. That sort of introduces Derealism and Depersonalisation (D&D) (haha) come in. Derealism causes me to feel like I’m constantly in a dream or a daydream, even if I’m not. Lights are weird, I can’t remember five minutes ago, my surroundings are super whacked up, so is my vision. I can’t ground myself, I can be sitting in my bedroom and I won’t recognize it. Depersonalisation is like that- but with myself and my body. I don’t know who I am, I don’t understand myself, I look in the mirror and just feel.. odd. Like I can’t quite place where my nose is. It causes lots of mental breakdowns, anxiety attacks, and random crying. Like, I cannot control my tears. (Dodie Clark also suffers from D&D) Now.. Music. Music comes into play a lot. It helps me ground myself, feel something familiar. Like I said, a lot of my daydreams are centred around certain songs or genres or bands. I follow a dream path, or a story line, based of those songs and my own emotions. Members of a band may often slip into my dreams, and I found that I feel a personal connection with them because of the emotions they’ve already shared with me through their music. To my friends and family, it seems as though I’m obsessed with that band. But really, I’m just emotionally connected to them. It’s a connection I absolutely cannot break.

Both these conditions help my depression and anxiety grow. It’s a different kind of depression than most people have explained to me that they feel. They explain it as a dark, looming cloud pressing them down. What I feel- and what others may experience as well - is the feeling that you have no control over yourself, that you are not you and no matter how hard you try, you will never fully understand who you are. Because you’re so many people. You’ve lived so many lives, felt so many things, been so many genders, sexualities and ages and identified in so many different ways, lived in so many eras with so many people. You can’t possibly know which one was the original you. (This slightly affects me in my beliefs. I believe in reincarnation and the possibility that I was once all of these things and knew all these people I’ve met in my head.) And of course, there’s nostalgia.

Nostalgia for past you’s. Past dreams, past realities. Realities you’ve moved on from. A song may trigger feelings you felt in that dream. For example, Nine In The Afternoon by Panic! At The Disco. This was my favorite song to dream to about all of second grade. I remember the dream was based loosely on the music video. Now, whenever I hear that song I can’t help but feel extremely nostalgic.

Anyway, dreams and daydreams meld, making me forget what happened while I was conscious and what didn’t. I follow the same dream path for as long as my brain feels there is more to happen.

My current dream began when I (unconsciously) dreamt my own fiery death, then returning as a ghost to my apartment, which also housed my sister (@ellie-thats-all-there-is), someone who wasn’t quite but had the face, past, social relations, and career of Gerard Way, and multiple characters from passed dreams. The person who was Gerard Way but wasn’t quite was my roomate, and we were close. Like siblings, or maybe parent and child. But we were not blood related. When I returned to my apartment, I found him passed out drunk on the floor. He responded aggressively to seeing me, angry, thinking his drunken brain was causing him to have hallucinations. He eventually passed out. After some time passed, he woke up, this time more sober. He was frightened, but I was able to calmly explain to him that I had appeared beside my grave, which I found salted and burned (for god’s sake). I told him I had no idea how, but as time passed, I was able to do things only people with bodies could do, such as eat and sleep. Together, we came to the conclusion I was slowly coming back to life. We didn’t know how, but something caused it.

Anyway, that’s the overall plot, but many things happened, such as going to concerts with him, when summer ends being told I had to go to a new school with a new name, stuff like that.

But last I had another dream. One I woke up in tears from. It began on the school bus, but it was night. We were all dressed up. There was a dance at the school that we were headed to. The steps to the school were massive, grand, elagant. They dropped off at the sides, though, with no railing. It had to be at least 45 ft. of stairs. Remeber this for later. I climbed the steps to the dance hall, and inside found a dance partner. He was my sister’s friend, I met him a few weeks ago at a hot spring. He’s 3 years older than me. We danced, he was kind, and we spoke about school and my sisters. For some reason, I had the impression that he would propose to my sister. I was glad with that. I liked him. The moment shifted, I remember running into the bathroom, then out the doors of the dance hall. I suppose my extreme depression and thoughts of death caused me to do this, but I walked to the side of the stairs and jumped off. It was a gorey and grotesque suicide. And it stopped there, then repeated. I was on the bus again. I was given a second chance. People knew of my suicide. It must have been the night after or something, but we were back at the dance hall now. I chose not to dance with the boy from before. I found a girl from school, standing in the corner in the bathroom. We decided to ditch the party. We ran miles and miles, past the city, past everything we knew together. We came to an old house. Behind it was my place. A place a came many times before. It was a field, with thicks of trees along the edges and occasionally in the middle. It was a spacious field, went as far as the eye could see. Wild flowers, sunflowers, red berries, willow trees and long grass. At the back of the field was where a large hill, maybe the beggining of a mountain, started abrubtly. If you climbed a few sharp, jagged cliffs and rocks, which weren’t too high, you’d come to a river, just below one if the cliffs. That was the cliff her and I sat on. We kicked our feet over the little river, which was more of a stream. On each side of the hill, or mountain, was an opening. Or- how do I explain this? The hill, which was quite tall, was not very wide. You could walk around it. The tress that outlined the field stopped just before the hill? making a path between the hill and the trees on both sides. You could follow that path, behind the the hill, and come to an even larger field. We never went back there that time, as we weren’t looking for an adventure, which we knew that would be. There were psychics and witches and coyotes and all manner of things back there. And even though I was good friends with all of them, her and I just wanted to sit on our little cliff above the stream, or river, feeding each other strawberries, laughing, and kissing in the light of the sunset. It was peaceful. I haven’t felt so happy in a while. This experience connects to the song She’s The Prettiest Girl At the Party And She Can Prove It With a Solid Right Hook by Frank Iero and The Patience. Maybe today, in my daydreams, her and I will go behind the hill.

my mental condition causes weird-ass dreaming conditions.

(Sorry for the format, I'm on mobile.)

So, a bit of backround on this condition. It's really two different things melded into one. Maladaptive Daydreamer Syndrome and Derealism & Depersonalisation. Maladaptive Daydreaming Syndrome, or MDS causes me to have extremely vivid, realistic daydreams and to have no control over my daydreams, but lucid dream at night. So it's kind of switched, I can't control what I do in my dreams when I'm conscious, but I can when I'm not. It makes it so I cannot stop myself from daydreaming. I'll do it at random times, even during a conversation, while I'm reading a book, watching a movie, in class, even while I'm doing something that requires my full attention, I'll somehow daydream. Like I said, I can carry out a full conversation without knowing a single word I said to you, or even that we spoke. I've gotten through multiple class periods without once leaving my daydream. (This is why I'm leaving school and doing online schooling) MDS also makes it so I remeber Dreams/Daydreams from the beggining of when I developed it (4 years ago) to now, I follow the same dream path, or plot, for a while. Like a story! I follow the same story line for a while until my experiences/surroundings/books I'm reading/music I'm listening to change. That sort of introduces Derealism and Depersonalisation (D&D) (haha) come in. Derealism causes me to feel like I'm constantly in a dream or a daydream, even if I'm not. Lights are weird, I can't remember five minutes ago, my surroundings are super whacked up, so is my vision. I can't ground myself, I can be sitting in my bedroom and I won't recognize it. Depersonalisation is like that- but with myself and my body. I don't know who I am, I don't understand myself, I look in the mirror and just feel.. odd. Like I can't quite place where my nose is. It causes lots of mental breakdowns, anxiety attacks, and random crying. Like, I cannot control my tears. (Dodie Clark also suffers from D&D) Now.. Music. Music comes into play a lot. It helps me ground myself, feel something familiar. Like I said, a lot of my daydreams are centred around certain songs or genres or bands. I follow a dream path, or a story line, based of those songs and my own emotions. Members of a band may often slip into my dreams, and I found that I feel a personal connection with them because of the emotions they've already shared with me through their music. To my friends and family, it seems as though I'm obsessed with that band. But really, I'm just emotionally connected to them. It's a connection I absolutely cannot break.

Both these conditions help my depression and anxiety grow. All these things that fuck up my brain combined with an eating disorder and my body that gets seriously sick at least twice a month seriously screw stuff up for me. But my depression is weird. It's a different kind of depression than most people have explained to me that they feel. They explain it as a dark, looming cloud pressing them down. What I feel- and what others may experience as well - is the feeling that you have no control over yourself, that you are not you and no matter how hard you try, you will never fully understand who you are. Because you're so many people. You've lived so many lives, felt so many things, been so many genders, sexualities and ages and identified in so many different ways, lived in so many eras with so many people. You can't possibly know which one was the original you. (This slightly affects me in my beliefs. I believe in reincarnation and the possibility that I was once all of these things and knew all these people I've met in my head.) And of course, there's nostalgia.

Nostalgia for past you's. Past dreams, past realities. Realities you've moved on from. A song may trigger feelings you felt in that dream. For example, Nine In The Afternoon by Panic! At The Disco. This was my favorite song to dream to about all of second grade. I remember the dream was based loosely on the music video. Now, whenever I hear that song I can't help but feel extremely nostalgic.

Anyway, dreams and daydreams meld, making me forget what happened while I was conscious and what didn't. I follow the same dream path for as long as my brain feels there is more to happen.

My current dream began when I (unconsciously) dreamt my own fiery death, then returning as a ghost to my apartment, which also housed my sister (@ellie-thats-all-there-is), someone who wasn't quite but had the face, past, social relations, and career of Gerard Way, and multiple characters from passed dreams. The person who was Gerard Way but wasn't quite was my roomate, and we were close. Like siblings, or maybe parent and child. But we were not blood related. When I returned to my apartment, I found him passed out drunk on the floor. He responded aggressively to seeing me, angry, thinking his drunken brain was causing him to have hallucinations. He eventually passed out. After some time passed, he woke up, this time more sober. He was frightened, but I was able to calmly explain to him that I had appeared beside my grave, which I found salted and burned (for god's sake). I told him I had no idea how, but as time passed, I was able to do things only people with bodies could do, such as eat and sleep. Together, we came to the conclusion I was slowly coming back to life. We didn't know how, but something caused it.

Anyway, that's the overall plot, but many things happened, such as going to concerts with him, when summer ends being told I had to go to a new school with a new name, stuff like that.

But last I had another dream. One I woke up in tears from. It began on the school bus, but it was night. We were all dressed up. There was a dance at the school that we were headed to. The steps to the school were massive, grand, elagant. They dropped off at the sides, though, with no railing. It had to be at least 45 ft. of stairs. Remeber this for later. I climbed the steps to the dance hall, and inside found a dance partner. He was my sister's friend, I met him a few weeks ago at a hot spring. He's 3 years older than me. We danced, he was kind, and we spoke about school and my sisters. For some reason, I had the impression that he would propose to my sister. I was glad with that. I liked him. The moment shifted, I remember running into the bathroom, then out the doors of the dance hall. I suppose my extreme depression and thoughts of death caused me to do this, but I walked to the side of the stairs and jumped off. It was a gorey and grotesque suicide. And it stopped there, then repeated. I was on the bus again. I was given a second chance. People knew of my suicide. It must have been the night after or something, but we were back at the dance hall now. I chose not to dance with the boy from before. I found a girl from school, standing in the corner in the bathroom. We decided to ditch the party. We ran miles and miles, past the city, past everything we knew together. We came to an old house. Behind it was my place. A place I came many times before. It was a field, with thicks of trees along the edges and occasionally in the middle. It was a spacious field, went as far as the eye could see. Wild flowers, sunflowers, red berries, willow trees and long grass. At the back of the field was where a large hill, maybe the beggining of a mountain, started abrubtly. If you climbed a few sharp, jagged cliffs and rocks, which weren't too high, you'd come to a river, just below one if the cliffs. That was the cliff her and I sat on. We kicked our feet over the little river, which was more of a stream. On each side of the hill, or mountain, was an opening. Or- how do I explain this? The hill, which was quite tall, was not very wide. You could walk around it. The tress that outlined the field stopped just before the hill? making a path between the hill and the trees on both sides. You could follow that path, behind the the hill, and come to an even larger field. We never went back there that time, as we weren't looking for an adventure, which we knew that would be. There were psychics and witches and coyotes and all manner of things back there. And even though I was good friends with all of them, her and I just wanted to sit on our little cliff above the stream, or river, feeding each other strawberries, laughing, and kissing in the light of the sunset. It was peaceful. I haven't felt so happy in a while. This experience connects to the song She's The Prettiest Girl At the Party And She Can Prove It With a Solid Right Hook by Frank Iero and The Patience. Maybe today, in my daydreams, her and I will go behind the hill.

Oh wtf

I follow you because you're a fucking dry-ass walnut and ily.

Wooooowwwwwww ily2 you shit

I'm not dying until I have my own Wikipedia page.

fucck off u nerd. have a good night.

I follow you because you're a fucking dry-ass walnut and ily.

Wooooowwwwwww ily2 you shit

*holds a baby carrot like a cigarette* I’m just….. over it, you know?

Grantaire too

@tumblr gays

reblog this with a fictional character you’d date instantly if they were real

Clara Oswald.

@tumblr gays

reblog this with a fictional character you’d date instantly if they were real

Okay so I don't know if this is too much to ask but i was wondering if you could write a christmas thinspo imagine pleeease! I swear imagines are the best source of thinspo for me, they are so motivational

Christmas Imagine⛄️❄️🎄:

You wake up and it’s Christmas morning! You pull back your warm duvet covers and the cold air hits your tiny figure. You step onto the floor and walk over to your full length mirror your feet barely making a sound as you step because you’re so light. You see your reflection staring back at you and look stunning. Your sharp cheekbones are rosy from the cool air and the messy bun your hair is pulled back in highlights them even more, your collarbone sticks out against the straps of your extra small bralette and your tiny waist is even more concave because of your empty stomach. You can see your hip bones sticking out of your pyjama shorts, they are supposed to fit right but your thin thighs and thigh gap make them look like a large and not the extra small they really are. You go to the bathroom and weigh yourself and you can’t believe it finally you reached your goal weight! The best Christmas gift you could ever ask for! You pull on an oversized sweater that falls off your shoulders slightly and put on fuzzy socks that bunch around your thin calves and keep your feet warm. You go down stairs to look at all the gifts around the tree. You grab yourself a cup of green tea while everyone else is eating coffee cake and drinking hot chocolate and whipped cream. You guys start to open your stockings and like always yours is full of candy canes and chocolate which you trade off for extra socks and lip balm with your sister! As you open your gifts you notice instead of clothes you have a lot of gift cards your parents explaining how they aren’t sure of what fits you anymore now that you’re so tiny. You are filled with such a good feeling by finally accomplishing your goals! This really is the best Christmas ever!

I hope this helps you xox stay safe!💕

@ everyone reading this: i hope with all my heart that you heal from whatever is causing you pain right now

little things that make me fall 4 people

having a nickname for me (not necessarily a mushy romantic one) 

using my name in conversation 

complimenting something I’m not super fond of about myself 

sending me pictures of stuff that reminds you of me 

listening to my music

recommending music to me

picking up little phrases I use and starting to use them 

GUISE

GUISE

IF YOU HIT “X+C” IT SHUTS OFF EVERY GIF ON YOUR DASH

EVERY SINGLE ONE TURNS TO A LITTLE GREY BOX WITH A LOCK

GUISE

TUMBLR HAS MADE ITSELF SAFE FOR EPILEPTICS

PASS IT ON

Yea, yea dear, be scared. You kill me😂

My Boy, to his girlfriend: Shut the literal fuck up before I choke the shit out of you.

Me, out loud: Wow, that sounds fucking kinky.

My Boy’s Girlfriend, to me: Shut up, you freak, he’s just abusive.