lightly, child, lightly
|Former poet who has lost her words. Radical feminist, suffering from Bipolar II Disorder, Generalized Anxiety and Panic Disorders, PTSD, Bulimia, and Fibromyalgia. In other words, any hope for a normal life is far behind me. And this is where I mourn.
I often express my ambivalence with living, here--if you're sensitive to suicidal ideation, heed my trigger warnings. And I will post similar trigger warnings for any self-harm- and sexual assault-related posts. That said, my name is Katie. I'm 26, with a degree in Anthropology and a background in English and editorial work, but I find myself unemployed, unable to work. I'm also asexual, but I consider myself biromantic. I keep this blog for myself, but would love to meet any of you reading this. <3
when i see these posts that are like “it’s not cute to have anxiety, don’t pretend like you do.” and i just genuinely don’t think people...
All memory has a taste of poison.
—Edmond Jabès, The Book of Questions Volumes 2 and 3: The Book of Yukel Return to the Book, trans.by Rosmarie...