TW : MENTION OF SUICIDE

I think more than jealousy, the emotion i feel when my parents tease me when they say they have 4 daughters including my cousins is something close to fear? Because then truly if I were to die , then they would also have others . Other important people. And they wouldn't feel an absence as such .

me, finally does something that I want to :

my family : you should think about us, the society, the world, that random stranger on the street and not just do what you like, why are you so self centered/you shouldn't do that, it's wrong, do it the way I told you to/do what I like, not simply whatever you want

me : 👁️ 👄 👁️

I'm sad.

Can someone please send me resources or links or anything at all to send it to people to prove that we should stop using "narcissistic abuse" as a term?????

I hate the fact that I'm so fucking fragile sometimes. Like, there are days when I have no energy and I like to make those days lazy days, y'know? I feel kind of numb inside, but light, and really smol™. And on these days, if anyone says or does the tiniest little thing, I get upset. Like, today for example, my socio ma'am raised her voice a little bit at me because she was getting annoyed at our class cause we weren't responding properly, and she was like I'm not talking about that when I accidentally said the wrong thing (she didn't say it in the bad way, she's an amazing person/teacher, she's my favorite) and I felt like crying, but I held it is. And then later on my grandpa scolded me for not obeying him and waking up early AT 7 (WTF, NEVER GONNA HAPPEN), and my grandma was like you better change from tomorrow before he stops saying nicely and starts getting angry and that made me sad. And then I was in a very fragile mood so I was spending a lot of time alone with myself, and then I spent some with my cousin. And after a while I was just feeling reallyyyy tired, so I stood outside looking at the sky and zoning out and she kept pushing my back, and it hurt a bit and I told her to stop it but she kept doing it, so I felt this very flat, no energy vaala anger and I told her if she does it again I'll push her back and she'll fall down because I'm strong, and she said no I won't, I don't mind, do it and I wanted to teach her a lesson so I did and she fell on her butt, and my dad started scolding me eventhough he was watching the entire thing. And that just added on to my fragile vaala mood, but I could control my tears and so I turned around to stare at the sky again after apologizing to her. But she started doing it again and I got upset and I stormed into my room and started crying. I feel so pathetic because I'm so fucking sensitive. Like, no person is this sensitive. WTF is wrong with me. A few days ago, there was this huge conflict at home, and just, I dunno. Whatever. I'm a bad person and I deserve to die.

usually for the most part, if someone doesn't reply to me or sends short replies, i can try and rationalize - takes a lot of effort, but I can do it. But lately, many people have been doing it and my brain is deducting that as a pattern and my bpd is acting up and i feel upset and betrayed and abandoned and hurt and rageeee and this pressure in my head to start fights which is so fucking difficult to manage/control, and i just want to scream at everyone and punch myself

it's like, Lou is talking to his younger self, telling him there's no point caring or speaking up against the fact that he's not allowed to show who he is openly. That he's not the first or the last who's going to have to hide who they really are just because of how messed up the industry is. And caring only kills love could mean caring about what the management or the other people say too much will only kill your love with the person you're in a relationship with (this could be what happened with Larry : Lou might have wanted to hide everything a little too much and Harry must've have walked away - like Lou says in his song, the day you walked away is the day I became the man that I am now; and like how Haz says in Golden, the other person is scared of being open because hearts get broken), and a kiss won't bring it back, which is pretty obvious.

There's nothing left to say since people have already said whatever there is to say and still nothing has changed - the industry is still the same, homophobia and the glass closet is still the same. So hush your crying, dry your tears, it's not going to make a change, it's not going to make an impact. Your broken heart is a copy of the broken heart of someone else and so on and on.

(I'm not talking about the glass and birds ka theory because people have already theorised that - the glass closet and the birds are the people, maybe Haz and Lou, or maybe every single person who had to hide who their truly were)

Spilt blood could be Louis actually believing everything their management told them, and the loss they had to face, all the pain they had to go through because they couldn't speak up or change anything. So there's no use in crying over all that - like he says in Too Young, he gives in to the pressure, he thought that a love like this would never last - and we can actually see parellels and connections to his other songs, his album and him, as an individual.

Like, damn, Louis Tomlinson is a goddamn genius and anyone who doesn't see this, see how much hurt he had to go through is a fool.

The first time I read Ursula Le Guin’s The Ones Who Walk Away From Omelas, my chest constricted with the passionate onslaught of too many thoughts, too many emotions, too many opinions. No matter how many perspectives I could logically think from, my brain circled back to the outcry of why no one spoke up, why no one resisted, revolted. How strong could be the ones who walked away? After all, walking away is the easiest thing one could do. It didn’t take much for me to unlearn that; just Louis’ outburst of leaving being the hardest thing to do, as he says so in COAGDP, was all it took. And when I tried that angle, I understood. I understood what Le Guin was trying to convey, what she wanted to make us see. It was a statement; it was saying: “this world was built for me. This suffering is meant for my happiness. This is all I’m aware of. I choose to not be happy. I would rather leave to a place I know nothing about, a place I don’t even know exists, than be happy at the cost of a child, of someone being collateral damage, for my happiness. If this torture is for me, for my sake, I would rather live a miserable life in the unknown.” It was not just brave, it was revolutionary.

Staying there, fighting for change, would lead to: “do you want us all to suffer just because of your selfish ideology?” / “do you want our lives to collapse just to save one child?” / “does this strange child mean more to you than your loved ones’ happiness?”. The age-old argument of collective good versus the wellbeing of an individual is one with an answer that’s a double-edged sword. There is no end, no solution; strength comes in many forms, many faces, and sometimes turning your back on all you’ve known your entire life is the strongest thing one can do to make a point.  

We see this in all the people who’re the black sheep of their family; the leftist, the feminist, the divorcee, the queer one, the atheist and the agnostic, the free-thinkers, the child rebels, the child who questions; we don’t see much of them, because they’re forced to hide underneath cloaks saying something different – “anti-national”, “violator of culture, of family values”, “the reject”, “the one with conduct issues”, “the heathen”.

Walking away is many a time metaphorical, and it doesn’t always mean the same thing; but when one has lived their whole life as a frog in a well, jumping out isn’t escapism, it is resistance.

-kpm

My grandma has a friend who's in the houseboat business and my parents are planning for us to stay overnight on a house boat tommo, and my cousins are also coming along and i recently found out so is my aunt, and even before all that, i couldn't feel excited.my grandma looked so happy telling me about it but i just couldn't feel it and I don't know what's wrong with me

why am I so fucked up in the head why can't I ever appreciate things why am I such a downer

Tw suicide

How do you tell your family that the reason you can't think from their perspective that you're hurting family or that you're wrong is because you can't balance in the middle ground between - "you're wrong you just don't understand me why can't you try and understand me" and "I'm wrong I just should kms everyone would be better off if I just kms". There is literally no middle ground, I'll either tip onto on side or the other WHY DONT YOU GET IT