Confessions of a Brunette Sidekick.

Feb 28

quote

This is not meant to be a sob story.
This is a poem to make you understand.

In the past year alone,
I have attempted suicide 4 times.
In the past year,
the police have come to my house 2 times.
In the past year I ran out of resources
and had to check myself into a treatment center.

In the treatment center,
there was a girl who had
welts on her arm deeper than mine.
It looked like she had
punched her fist through
a glass window
the way life had punched
the life out of her.

In the treatment center
there was a girl who had hallucinations
about a man standing in the corner
that terrified her so much
that she couldn’t stand still.

In the year before the last one,
I had two suicide attempts.
I was checked into an ER for my overdose
then a psychiatric hospital.

This is a poem about all the people
who have been bounced back to a hospital
every time they thought they got their life back together
only to let their mental illness catch them off guard again.

This is a poem for all the people
who are so weak that they
cannot stand on their own.

This is a poem for the people
whose eating disorders are so strong
that they will refuse food
even when they weigh 70 pounds
and are forced by hospital staff
to be fed by a tube.

This is a poem for the people
who have more hospital bracelets
than they do friends.

This is a poem about
how I have to take 8 pills a day
to function somewhat normally.

This is a poem about how I had
to drop out of public school
because my mental illness
has interfered with my eating,
my breathing, my sleeping,
and my ability to live.

This is a poem about
how I cannot count the number of people
who have told me they wanted to die
on two hands.

This is a poem about the 400,000
emergency room visits
for self inflicted injury in 2001.

This is a poem for the 30,622 
people who committed suicide in 2001.

This is a poem for everybody with a mental illness
who is more scared of being judged
than they are of death.

This is a poem for everybody who
has wanted to bleed away their pain.
This is a poem for everyone
that wanted to disappear,
hoping that if they shot themselves,
if they crashed their car,
that if they jumped off the roof of a building,
that they might shatter.

This is a poem for everyone
who has tried to choke the pain
out of their life.
This is a poem for everyone who hoped
that an overdose would be a peaceful death.

This is a fuck you to every hallucination,
every manic episode, every depressive episode,
every flashback, every panic attack, every nightmare,
every suicide attempt, every hospital visit,
every purge, every laxative, every crash diet,
every single doctor that told you you were doing it for attention,
every single bully that didn’t know what they were driving you to,
every family member that ever looked at you like you were a freak,
everybody that ever told you to “get over it”,
everybody who told you that you were faking it.
Everybody who ever told you that it wasn’t a big deal.

Would you still be saying the same thing at our funerals?
Do us all a favor and tell us how beautiful
we “were” while we’re still alive.
How beautiful we are .

This is a poem for everyone who ever thought
the world would be better off without them.
This is poem for everyone who ever needed
somebody to just listen without judging.
This is a poem for everyone who just needs someone
to care or believe in them.

This is not meant to be a sad poem.
This is not a poem about overexaggeration.
It is a poem about reality.
It is a poem to finally make you understand.

We are more than statistics.
We are stories.

— This Is Not A Sad Poem (via expresswithsilence)
Feb 10
Come to the Antioch University Bake Sale and Open Mic! All proceeds go to our V-Day campaign! There will be coffee and goodies of all kinds. Come help us make our kick off V-Day event.

Come to the Antioch University Bake Sale and Open Mic! All proceeds go to our V-Day campaign! There will be coffee and goodies of all kinds. Come help us make our kick off V-Day event.

Feb 09

midesko:

Sometimes I see kids and don’t want them but then I see stuff like this

Feb 09
dyspraxicpanda:

http://melancholyrabbit.tumblr.com/
Feb 09
dyspraxicpanda:

Sometimes my brain goes blank and I just stand here staring at the mess.

dyspraxicpanda:

Sometimes my brain goes blank and I just stand here staring at the mess.

Feb 08
dyspraxicpanda:

:’( Routine changes are a bitch.

dyspraxicpanda:

:’( Routine changes are a bitch.

Feb 08

Rebloggable by request: Dyspraxic Driving Tips →

pervocracy:

Hey, I think you mentioned on this blog that you have several cars, so I’m guessing you can drive. Do you have any tips for dyspraxic people trying to learn to drive? Thanks. :-)

I only have one car (and a sort of precariously functional one at that); the…

Feb 08
dyspraxicpanda:

"You just aren’t listening to me!!"
;u; You’d think that by now people would’ve realized that my memory is a total asshole that never holds onto things I need to remember and, as a result, makes people get angry with me.
http://melancholyrabbit.tumblr.com/

dyspraxicpanda:

"You just aren’t listening to me!!"

;u; You’d think that by now people would’ve realized that my memory is a total asshole that never holds onto things I need to remember and, as a result, makes people get angry with me.

http://melancholyrabbit.tumblr.com/

Feb 08
dyspraxicpanda:

All the time.
(submission by jonesygingersnapz)
(admin : oh it’s a dyspraxic thing then ? Because I can relate ! I usually ended up only doing the subjects I like when I was younger hfjdkshfds now I just try to start earlier (or forget to do it woops))

dyspraxicpanda:

All the time.


(submission by jonesygingersnapz)

(admin : oh it’s a dyspraxic thing then ? Because I can relate ! I usually ended up only doing the subjects I like when I was younger hfjdkshfds now I just try to start earlier (or forget to do it woops))

Feb 08

twinpersonalitys:

LGBT people with dyspraxia can say that their so queer that they can’t even walk straight