Jayne ,'Jaynestown'
[NAFDA] Spike-centric discussion. Lusty, lewd (only occasionally crude), risqué (and frisqué), bawdy (Oh, lawdy!), flirty ('cuz we're purty), raunchy talk inside. Caveat lector.
Vicodin has such a happy effect on me. It doesn't make me loopy or sleepy. Just makes the world pleasant. So weird. Too bad it's not something I can take just because.
Vulnerability isn't weakness. Self-compassion isn't self-pity. Beating yourself up isn't discipline. Grief isn't failure. Doubt isn't betrayal.
That's some widely applicable good thinking, that is.
I should probably tattoo that on my face.
Unloveable, unwanted, and slightly worthless.
I have no idea who you're describing. This is not the Maria I know. As for bravery, my definition is fall down seven times, get up eight.
Seriously, I need that on a poster I can hang up to look at every day. Excellent words, smonster.
Vulnerability isn't weakness. Self-compassion isn't self-pity. Beating yourself up isn't discipline. Grief isn't failure. Doubt isn't betrayal.
Beautiful smonster.
Vulnerability isn't weakness. Self-compassion isn't self-pity. Beating yourself up isn't discipline. Grief isn't failure. Doubt isn't betrayal.
So, so true. And (speaking from my own perspective), so much easier to believe on the behalf of other people than applying it to myself.
Yes, but on days like today it's tough. Fine, I go to the gym 5 days a week, but am I actually working to my full capacity each time? Yes, I'm uprooting my life and moving from the place I've spent the majority of my life, but am I pushing hard enough to get out of here as quickly as possible?
Unless you are a professional athlete so that your living and your team depend on you being at 100% all the time, just getting off your butt is a win. Modest amounts of exercise done consistently are of value to your health. As for going full throttle in other areas of your life, it seems to me that no engine can sustain running redline indefinitely. You sound like you are feeling stuck, like you are getting ready to gnaw a limb off to get out of some trap. But if the trap is your expectations of our (or any other friends') expectations of you... I dunno... It just seems like a recursion loop, or a Chinese finger trap.
Sometimes drugs just make you not care that you hurt.
Or make the pain really fun.
After taking a second dose, I'm feeling a bit better.
Vulnerability isn't weakness. Self-compassion isn't self-pity. Beating yourself up isn't discipline. Grief isn't failure. Doubt isn't betrayal.
This is beautiful, smonster.