friendly reminder that:
- you are not weak if you want meds for your disorder
- you are not weak if you relapse once
- you are not weak if you relapse a thousand times
- you are not weak if some kinds of therapy don’t work for you
- you are not weak if some kinds of meds don’t work for you
- you are not weak if you have a mental disorder.
if self harm is
why don’t you know
the reason the girl
who sits behind you
wears sweaters every day
and if eating disorders are
why don’t you know
the girl who stares at you on the bus
hasn’t eaten in a week
and if suicide is
why don’t you know the reason
the boy who used to
eat lunch at your table
i just started crying
I neglected my final papers all day today and did nothing but rewatch NANA for the millionth time. I feel no shame. I fucking love watching anime.
This is my son, Chester, who is nearly 4. He was invited to his friend Chloe’s birthday party today, the theme was prince and princesses. He asked if he could go as Sleeping Beauty, so I bought him a dress and put a cute little clip in his hair.
We arrived at the party to the following comments from the adults present:
“Oh that is just cruel.”
"Why did you make him wear a dress?"
"Poor little man, what’s your mummy playing at?"
"He’s going to hate you when he grows up."
"No way I’d let my son dress like a girl."
The fact is, Chester is almost completely gender neutral. I let him wear what he wants, be it boys or girls clothes, and he plays with whatever toys he likes. This usually involves him holding tea parties while wearing his pink Minnie Mouse top, jeans and a tiara. The guests are more often than not a mixture of Winnie The Pooh characters, dinosaurs, Barbie, Dora and solders, and they’re usually transported in his favorite fire engine.
When my husband arrived at the party later on, he was subjected to endless ridicule from the other dad’s present about how I must keep his balls in my back pocket because otherwise he would have put his foot down and not allowed Chester out like that. Oh, and by the way, our other son dressed as Ariel. When my husband pointed out that the boys were happy, and the mother of the birthday child made a point of saying how wonderful she thought it was that we allowed them freedom of choice and expression, they then stopped talking about it to our faces and started muttering about us behind our backs.
Interestingly enough, not a single child said a word about their choice of costumes, other than to compliment Chester on his new dress.
I think the fact I’m always cold is because of two reasons.
1. the lack of cuddles in my life
2. the absence of my soul
But seriously though. This scene right here is why I love this novel more than any other. I was utterly shocked and most importantly, I felt it. It’s hard to find many books that can make me truly relate to a character like I did with Lisbeth. If you haven’t read The Girl With the Dragon Tattoo…do it.