Things change. And friends leave. Life doesn’t stop for anybody.
Stephen Chbosky, The Perks of Being a Wallflower (via observando)
One of the most amazing things that can happen is finding someone who sees everything you are and won’t let you be anything less. They see the potential of you. They see endless possibilities. And through their eyes, you start to see yourself the same way. As someone who matters. As someone who can make a difference in this world.
Susane Colasanti (via onlinecounsellingcollege)

Laura Jane Grace
Image credit: Stephen McGill


Laura Jane Grace

Image credit: Stephen McGill



Friends Of Survivors: Comfort In. Complain Out.


This is your writer popping in to do a quick thing about being a friend to someone with PTSD in reaction to a few things in the PTSD tag.

Being a friend with someone who is a survivor or who has a mental illness may be difficult sometimes. Especially for those who do not suffer from Mental Illness.

Being a survivor is beyond logic. Your entire brain rewires. I stopped eating for a long time. Not because I wanted to lose weight, or because I had an eating disorder- but because I was forgetting. I detached myself from my body- because if I didn’t attach myself to my body, it didn’t hurt. I didn’t feel as disgusting, or used. Eating meant being in my body.

Friends got suspicious last year. I began hoarding food trash to prove that I had ate- so that they would stop worrying- so that they would stop forcing me to eat.

When I relapsed a few months ago, I began to do the same thing- even though I was eating. When a close friend found the stash of wrappers, he asked why. I explained that I had to prove that I was eating- and when he asked ‘to who’- I was caught off guard. I didn’t have an answer.

On another occasion, my rapist came through my dorm building. I was sitting with the previously mentioned friend at the RA desk. I got up, I went to the bathroom, and I punched the wall until two of my knuckles rebroke. I returned to the desk- he saw my hand, and he asked if I was okay. I snarked that everything was just peachy.

He said, “You know. Sometimes- you make it hard to care about you.”

I make it very hard to care about me. I work best under pressure, I rarely cry. On a regular basis I was going 80 hours without sleep and days without eating. I also am a wonderful liar. I do spoken word and did theater for a while- if there is one thing I am good at is faking pleasant emotions. People want to care. People know I have PTSD and want to help- but they often make a similar mistake.

They complain to me about how hard it is to be friends with me.

This is a common mistake of people who befriend/date/are family of people with PTSD.

A very common mistake that makes me weary of everyone who isn’t a survivor.

When you know a survivor- or someone with PTSD- you need to consider where they’re coming from.

Yes, I know, it’s hard to watch a friend starve themselves. It’s harder to be the person accidently starving themselves. It is hard to watch a friend be suicidal- it is even harder to be suicidal.

Comfort in. Complain Out.



Comfort those who are more effected than you. This could simply be the survivor- or it could be the survivor and their partner/family. Complain to those who aren’t as effected as you. Seek comfort from them.

Stay out of our safe places. If you are not a survivor- or not directly invited by a survivor- stay out of survivor safe spaces.

I am greatly offended by the influx of people in the PTSD tags who talk about how hard it is to live with people who have PTSD.

The most recent post said it was worse to live with a person who has PTSD- than to not have someone there period.

When you say things like that- where survivors of a traumatic experience to read- you tell us not to come home to you.

You tell us to keep walls up.

You tell us to keep you out.

You tell us that our pain is not as important as your comfort.

You are hurting people with PTSD.

You are dehumanizing us. You are making us less than nothing.

You are hurting the people you claim to love.

Stop it.


SCaR: Sexuality after rape.



Sexuality after rape was a topic that was suggested ages ago (before I started the blog in fact) that I have shied away from for many reasons. One- it is an extremely broad topic, with many subheadings. Two- fucking it up would be terrible.

Rape effects everyone differently. Some people become unable to have intimate relations (even with those they previously have, or people that they completely trust) without being triggered, others go through many different partners for a handful of different reasons. Some do it as a form of self harm- purposely triggering themselves, feeling as though they are already dirty- so why not. Some do it because they no longer feel like they have the right to say no. Others because they can- because the rape didn’t effect their ability to have sex.

I just want you to know, that no matter what path you went down, you are not wrong.

If you were straight before it happened, and suddenly the idea of being with the opposite sex repulses you? that’s alright. It’s something you can work on- if you want to. 

If you were homosexual before it happened, and you can no longer imagine being with a partner of the same sex? That’s okay too. Same disclaimer applies.

Polysexuals who find themselves unable to be with someone of the same sex as their attacker- have every right to feel that way too.

If you were a virgin before it happened- and now sleep with a different person every week, that is okay.

If you were someone that had lots of sex before it happened- and now wouldn’t consider it for the world- that’s okay.

If you have rape fantasies. If you dream of abuse and it turns you on. If you masturbate to some of the things that happened. You are not wrong.  Especially survivors who have gone through years of abuse. Abusers do many things to try and cast what they did as okay, and make you at fault for it. Our brains do things to try and soften the blow as to how bad things are. You aren’t wrong. This does not mean you wanted it, or that you deserved it.

If you got into BDSM after everything, that doesn’t mean you really liked it after all.

If you were into BDSM before everything happened, that doesn’t mean it wasn’t rape because ‘you were into rough sex anyway’.

Sexuality is an extremely complicated thing, and our relationships with sex are built upon so much. No matter how you express your sexuality, no matter who you have sex with, no matter how you have sex- you are not wrong. As long as everything is consensual on both sides- everything is allowed.

I will attempt to write a FoS piece later about being a partner with a survivor and how to talk about sex, check in during everything, so that both partners are as safe as possible. but understand that this is a complicated subject that I have a lot of feelings on.

Take care of yourself, okay?


photograph from studio installation


photograph from studio installation

(Source: saatchiart)


Edward Emerson Barnard, Milky Way Near Messier 11, (1892)
Photographed at the Lick Obsevatory, California on June 29,1892. Collection of the Swiss Federal Observatory.


Edward Emerson Barnard, Milky Way Near Messier 11, (1892)

Photographed at the Lick Obsevatory, California on June 29,1892. Collection of the Swiss Federal Observatory.


i don’t actually buy into sisterhood as this universal bond between women (like. at all)

but like, prioritizing relationships between women is really important to me. 


Found this in the loo


Found this in the loo

(Source: despairinyourhand)

Leonardo Da Vinci’s drawings

(Source: marthajefferson)

I’ve learned that people will forget what you said, people will forget what you did, but people will never forget how you made them feel.
Maya Angelou (via observando)