strawberrycowyoumakemegowow

[strawberrycowyoumakemegowow]

what if u r both?

the two genders are “i no longer wish to be perceived” and “i have to be the most fuckable person at the grocery store”

[strawberrycowyoumakemegowow]

me: My adhd is not that bad lol

me: *Forgets to reply to everyone, clothes everywhere, no focus to even eat, dissociating, "I ll see this video and then i will eat" *4 HOURS pass by*

its horrible sometimes, its like i m everywhere and i cant do anything with focus

[strawberrycowyoumakemegowow]

like c’mon i can’t get into top 1 college twice because there’s only ONE and i already got in so can you please try to act a bit excited over this little game that i won after trying for a few hours?????

my dad: “I don’t know why you act like this, you should relax, there’s no reason to be anxious at all. You don’t have to take yourself into more than your limits”

also my dad: *literally mocks everything that isn’t an OVERachievement* 

[strawberrycowyoumakemegowow]

my dad: “I don’t know why you act like this, you should relax, there’s no reason to be anxious at all. You don’t have to take yourself into more than your limits”

also my dad: *literally mocks everything that isn’t an OVERachievement* 

[strawberrycowyoumakemegowow]

[strawberrycowyoumakemegowow]

EST. 19940218

HAPPY HOBI DAY!!

click for hq / don’t repost /don’t claim as your own / insp x, xx

[strawberrycowyoumakemegowow]

[strawberrycowyoumakemegowow]

*shows to ur room* HAPPY VALENTINE DAY LUV!!! *kiss two cheeks* I hope u r doing well!!!! Take care will ya?*hugs* Okay gotta go to meet my next luv as well but dont forget *whispering* you mean a lot to me, and to this world as well!!

#to all my followers

[strawberrycowyoumakemegowow]

honestly, the night we met is so realistic and it applies so much to relations in general.

The act of meet, all the touches, the nights, the fear, the hours, and then sudden all you had goes to a much that goes to some to none, and you feel lost on that haunting ghost of the person you once loved, that you once fell into.

you feel lost because what’s life without the love you once lived through?

not to be unwell but why does no other song awaken the specific shrimp emotions cocktail of listening to the night we met

[strawberrycowyoumakemegowow]

Change as many times as needed. Change your mind, change your mindset, change the places you go, change the way you deal with certain things. Change whenever you feel that something or someone no longer resonates with the person you are striving to become.

[strawberrycowyoumakemegowow]

me: hey i feel pretty good what could go wrong

brain:

[strawberrycowyoumakemegowow]

Sup bitches adding on that happened >TODAY<

My parents let a whole pizza burn into a point where it had to go to the trash just to “teach me” i should pay more attention to a pizza...staying 40minutes on the oven...

and that goes to the list of long things that they did that hurt me without any actual deserving of my part :) 

“I had a room to myself as a kid, but my mother was always quick to point out that it wasn’t my room, it was her room and I was merely permitted to occupy it. Her point, of course, was that my parents had earned everything and I was merely borrowing the space, and while this is technically true I cannot help but marvel at the singular damage of this dark idea: That my existence as a child was a kind of debt and nothing, no matter how small, was mine. That no space was truly private; anything of mine could be forfeited at someone else’s whim.”  ― Carmen Maria Machado, In the Dream House

[strawberrycowyoumakemegowow]

Bro this remind me so much of my childhood

It was my room and my mom would not say i was in debt with her because of it, but instead i could never have my room as my. Any little sign of me or of my existence alone was quickly throw away by her.

I remember one day where i drew with this pencils that my godmother(Her favorite sister) got me, i hang them in my door (on the inside) proudly, and went to school.

As I got home, six hours later, my dollhouse who was in the floor was in a box in the closet, my draws where throw somewhere i could never find again (But i could see someone ripped it off because of how the stickers holding were ripped apart).

My drews were always ripped, i tried three times before giving up puttin anything into the wall of my own room.

I remember one day, when I was 13 and went to the mall with my friends, as I got back my mom had reorganized herself all of my closet, without my consent going through all of my clothes and boxes. I had nothing to hide, but yet, felt fearful. The worst part is she called me after i saw, giving me a "lesson", talking like i was a troublemaker because i "made" her reorganize my closet.

After that, everytime i had something, it was never truly mine. Even on my diaries i did not write the things i wanted to say, and if i did, i would never write names. All of my devices have password even tho there's nothing they could find to "put me into trouble".

My dad did not got into my bedroom, that's true. He did not said that the house wasn't mine either, but instead, everytime i was in any room besides my own I would constantly feel watched, like someone was waiting any wrong movement of mine to call me out.

I didnt learned how to cook because of this. I didn't learned how washing machine works because of this. I didn't learn anything from the office and would never scream, not even when I'm in pain.

I would literally, by the age of 6, play in silence, with the voices of the characters only inside my brain because i would always be called out/watched.

My sheets were always changed without me knowing, my towels were often changed without any warn and things sometimes would just dissapear. My mom innumerous times made jokes about how my sheets smelled bad because I smelled bad.

(This is something she often did. Whenever she wanted to put me down or whenever she saw any sign of calmness/happiness she would say i smelled bad, didnt matter how many showers i took.

I remember when i was smaller and i would take a shower but she wouldn't let me put on fresh new outfits because that would mean i was "using them too much" so i would had to put the dirt clothes back on.)

One day i tried to sleep without my shorts and pants, in my own bedroom, and I woke up with shorts.

Someone got into my room without warning me, got into my sheets, saw me without short and not satisfied enough, got shorts and dressed me. I was terrified when i woke up in the morning and never told anyone, not even my own gf at the time.

I mean, how would you look at your 15 year old girlfriend if you knew her mom got into her bedroom, and dressed her while she was asleep?

Even actual toys were thrown away at some point because they were "boys toys" when i was 7.

to this day my parents still don't seem to know why i hide myself so much, why i m always wishing to stop exist, why i wont allow anyone to touch me, why i feel so uncomfortable with hugs or any physical form of affection.

And, as I spoke to my therapist the last session and as i was write this I realize,

My desire to unexist is not due to my own problems or traumas, but due to the fact that my parents fed into my inexistence during all of my formal years so I could be as quiet and "easy" as possible. As I, in fact, didn't exist at all.

To this day i still have problems over saying yes or not, over buying things or even changing my sheets. To this day when things go wrong I quickly want to disapear, want to run away.

To this day to exist still sounds like a problem i often find myself falling into.

“I had a room to myself as a kid, but my mother was always quick to point out that it wasn’t my room, it was her room and I was merely permitted to occupy it. Her point, of course, was that my parents had earned everything and I was merely borrowing the space, and while this is technically true I cannot help but marvel at the singular damage of this dark idea: That my existence as a child was a kind of debt and nothing, no matter how small, was mine. That no space was truly private; anything of mine could be forfeited at someone else’s whim.”  ― Carmen Maria Machado, In the Dream House

#daddy issues #mommy issues #parents issues #oof

[strawberrycowyoumakemegowow]

[strawberrycowyoumakemegowow]

good evening to eldest daughters, people with a complicated relationship with their mother, service industry workers, big tiddy bitches, college dropouts, people who are spiritual but not religious, they/thems, nintendo gamers, and friendless loners

[strawberrycowyoumakemegowow]

So it’s been established that vampires can tell a person’s blood type. But can vampires determine.... like, blood alcohol count?

Just *sip* “oh you should not have been driving my dude”

[strawberrycowyoumakemegowow]

one of the ways i know this culture has a massive issue with consent

is the sheer amount of people I’ve known that just lie & tell people they’re deathly allergic to foods they dislike

because otherwise people will hound them, mock them, coax them, harass them, try to force them to eat it, or even trick them into eating it, and they will never hear the end of it

your coworkers will bake it into a fucking pie, call it something else, and wait til your birthday, gather everyone and their first cousins to sit around in a circle waiting for you to put a forkful into your mouth and then point rhythmically at you in a chanting, glaring, sweating, unholy circle like SWISS CHARD SWISS CHARD YOU JUST ATE SWISS CHARD HA HA HA SWISS CHARD NOW YOU LIKE SWISS CHARD

Because forcing someone into a situation where they don’t feel safe declining putting something into their body they’d rather not be there is totes 100% wholesome American fun

And this is something so known that it’s infinitely easier to just lie and tell people that you’ll die if you eat that food…which actually doesn’t always stop it from happening