Have you ever thought “Man, I feel impossibly shitty and I don’t know why”?
Run through this checklist before you do anything else.
What have I eaten in the last 24 hours? Is it enough? If not, go and eat some food, you butt.
Am I hydrated? If not, put some fluids in your body, fool.
Have I slept an acceptable amount in the last 24 hours and preceeding few days? If not, do your utmost to have a nap. You need a reset, bro.
Have I been outside/partaken in whatever form of exercise I am capable of? You’re stagnating, homie.
Have I communicated with anyone? At all? About anything? In the last 24 hours? Sup, you’re not actually a lone wolf, and even if you’re just shouting BUTTLUMPS at someone over the intertubes, it’s better than shouting it at yourself inside your own head.
So basically: eat, drink, sleep, walk, and talk. If you still feel like emotional ass after that, start looking for more involved explanations.
This shit is no joke.
All of these are extremely important.
Adding: 6. Have I communicated too much? Am I overstimulated? Do I need some quiet time? Go stare at a blank wall in utter silence for a bit.
I try to go through this kind of checklist whenever I feel funky. It really helps.
Your wife changes her hair color every season and her personality adjusts slightly. You’re secretly only in love with Autumn wife. She just came home sporting her Winter color.
it’s my fault. it’s just that when we met it was autumn; her red-orange hair and crackling laughter. there’s a little spooky in her, a lot of play. and what a better time for falling?
i didn’t realize it for the first few years - something shifting, something so subtle. the winter makes us all cold, the summer makes us all a little out of our minds. i just loved her, because she was incredible, and i was the luckiest person alive.
it’s just that i realized that spring came with sudden bursts of cold. it’s just that summer frequently raged in with fire sprouting from her lips. it’s just that winter was the worst of all, her eyes dead. it’s just that autumn loves me different; throws herself into it without the clingy sweat of summer. i used to love that summer girl, you know? i loved how wild she was, the way in summer she took every risk she could. but i carried her home drunk one too many times, cleaned up one too many of the messes she made for no reason than to enjoy the sensation of burning. and winter was worse; the shutdown, the isolation. how she became distant, a blizzard, caught up in her own head, unable to tell me what was wrong and unable to think i actually wanted to listen.
she comes home, her hair bleached white. a dark smile on her lips. the shadowy parts of her are back. they loom like icicles overhead. she kisses me with her body held at a distance, a peck on my cheek that feels like an iceberg. she makes polite conversation and we go to bed early, our bodies untouching.
it is a lonely season, i think on the ninth day of this. winter is cold. winter is known for the death of things. when i look at her, i see the girl i fell for, inhabited by an alien. she was the first women i loved so much i felt it would kill me. i can’t leave. when i wake her up with my crying, she tells me to shush and go back to sleep. she’s different like this, quiet, doesn’t eat.
three days later i stare at myself in the mirror. i wonder if it’s me. if the fat on my body or something in my face or the wrinkles and she doesn’t love me. i try prettier lingerie, lean cuisine, i try different hair, more makeup, try harder. it doesn’t work. she looks at me the same; that empty gaze that neither loves nor condemns my actions.
somewhere in februrary i lose it. we’re fighting again, from car to restaurant to car to home again. we fight about stupid things, small things; i tell her i feel she doesn’t love me, she says i’m not listening. the circle goes around and around, old pain peeling back, new pain unhealing. i sleep on the couch.
i wake up when i hear her crying, white hair around her all messed up. the kind of sobbing that only comes at two in the morning, heavy and thick and hurting. my winter girl. my heart is breaking. she looks up at me like i’m her anchor. “i’m sorry i’m like this,” she says. and i start saying, it’s okay i’m here we’re married, but she just shakes her head and says, “I know this isn’t the real me.”
i hold her cold hand. she stares at the blankets. “i am different in winter,” she whispers, “i know i am and i’m sorry.” she looks at me. “why do you think i dye my hair? cut it off? get rid of the old me?”
i tell her it’s okay. we’re together and it’s okay, and then she whispers, “i’m sorry you married four of me.”
we lay there like that, her head on my chest. she falls asleep. i stare at the ceiling, thinking of the way she sounded when she was crying. how i helped put her in that pain. how i promised in sickness and in health and everything in between.
the next day i spend at the library. there aren’t enough books on how to love someone with seasonal affective disorder so i make my own, notes and pages and little ideas on post-its. and i take a deep breath and make myself a promise.
she comes home to her favorite dinner and we kiss and she’s uneasy but that’s okay. the next day i bring home flowers and the next day she finds little love notes in her pockets. i love her quiet, the way winter demands, understand her sex drive is faltering; spend more time just cuddling. we drink wine and we kiss and some part of her starts relaxing.
the truth is there is no loving someone out of their mental illness. the truth is that you can love someone in despite of it; love them loud enough to give them an excuse to believe they can make their way out of it.
and i learn. i remember the rebirth of spring, when she starts thawing. we kiss and have picnics in pretty dresses. i remember her joy at little birds and her rain dancing. i fall in love with the flowers in her cheeks and the little bursts of cleaning. i fall in love with summer’s slow walks and milkshakes and shouting to music playing too loud on the speakers. i fall in love with her dancing, with the sunfire energy. and when winter comes; i am ready. i remember that snow used to look pretty. i fall in love with the hearth of her, with the holiday, with the slow smile that spreads across her face so shyly. i fall in love with how she looks in boots and mittens and every day i find another reason to love her the way she deserves - they way i always should have.
she comes home with her white hair and dark smile and a package in her hands. i ask to see what it is and that small shy grin comes creeping out. it’s a sunlamp packed in with medication. she looks at me with those wide eyes and that beautiful winter blush. “i’m trying to get better,” she whispers, “i promise.”
recovery doesn’t look immediate. sometimes it isn’t neat. i can’t say we never fight or that we’re suddenly complete. but each day, that tiny girl’s strength gives me another reason. i love her. i love her while she tames the roller coaster of spring; i love her for reigning in the summer storms; i love her for taking her winter and trying to be warm. it is hard, because everything worth it is hard. she spreads out her autumn leaves; mixes the best parts of her into everything. learns to take winter’s silence for a moment before yelling in summer. learns to take autumn’s spice and give it to spring. we are both learning.
one day she comes home and her hair is different, but it’s a style i don’t know. i kiss it and tell her that she’s beautiful and the inside of me swells like a flood. i’m so glad that she’s mine. every part of her. the whole. i am the luckiest person on earth. and i always have been. but she’s hugging me and saying, “thank you for helping me,” and i can’t explain why i’m crying.
this is what love is; not always an emotion but rather your actions. the choices we make when we realize our lives would be empty if the other was absent. this is what love is: letting them grow, helping them find their way in out of the cold. this is what love is: sometimes it takes work to see how the thing you planted together actually grows.
this is what love looks like in an autumn girl: it is winter and she glows.
I’m actually sobbing jesus christ
my heart is aching??? this is gorgeous
Wow. Worth the read, don’t scroll.
This is everything.
Everything about how to love.
I was not prepared
Nor was I.
“this is what love is; not always an emotion but rather your actions. the choices we make when we realize our lives would be empty if the other was absent. this is what love is: letting them grow, helping them find their way in out of the cold. this is what love is: sometimes it takes work to see how the thing you planted together actually grows.”
Honestly, if you scrolled… Go back up and read it.
I’ve read this again and again, and it just wrecks me every time.
This is beyond beautiful. Thanks for doing this prompt @inkskinned
instead of printing it off just use this blank thing that way you dont have to scan it or anything
so fill that out by pasting it in any art program and whatnot
then save it and upload it to that site
and itll give you an option to download it
so do that and then install it BAM
I JUST GOT THIS ON MY TABLET IT’S SO COOL OH MY GOD
for some reason it refused to recognize the third page of my letters but they were all pretty unnecessary mathematic things anyway so I’m not too worried. still something to keep in mind though, I hope it doesn’t happen for you!
paintfont.com would be a good place to go to quickly make a custom font for your comic!
ehh
It looks just as horrible in real life..even worse with the letter attached…
I’ll try this later.
you can also use alternative alphabets
Welp. Guess I know what font I’m gonna be using for comics from now on. B)
Welp. Looks like I have to do this now. So I can use this for Tengri’s asks.
For some reason there is no apostrophe in my set, but it still looks cool.
depressed kids in the media: I don’t wanna go to therapy! I don’t need help! I’m not some specimen for you to dissect!
me, rollin up to my therapist’s office and collapsing in relief: what is UP my homeboy I fuckin missed you,, hope ur ready to hear some Bull Shit that fuckin happened to me this week
families of depressed kids in media: okay sweetie we’ve researched depression for ten hours straight and signed you up for therapy and re-arranged your school schedule to be less stressful
actual parents of depressed kids: look i get you’re sad but someones gotta do the goddamn dishes stop being lazy get up. why didn’t you go to school today, what’s wrong with you, you’re such a burden on this family.
Therapists in the media: *understanding head tilt*
My real live therapist whom I adore: Natalie, that is the DUMBEST thing I’ve ever heard.
Therapists in Media: Lets do some art therapy and be really quiet while we talk about your feelings :)))))) also I’m prescribing you 500 different medicines
My therapist Brian who I love to death: Jack, I think your first problem is you stay up too late looking at memes, so let’s try taking a nap
My real life therapist: Okay, before we start, I found this hilarious video I know you’d love.
Therapist in media: serious face the whole time
My therapist: *laughs awkwardly*
therapists in media: refined, cultured, poised, “I’m afraid I haven’t [heard of the nerdy thing their patient just referenced]”
my old therapist derek, from across the reception area, seeing me for the first time after the summer of 2015: HEY DID YOU SEE AGE OF ULTRON?? IT SUCKED, RIGHT???
my current therapist ian, in our very first appointment: do you like star wars? anxiety is like the force, it can consume you, or you can learn to keep it in balance… you’re my padawan now
Actual things my therapist has told me:
“You’re bassicly a glorified sad lizard.” (It makes sense with context)
“Damn girl you need to get your shit together.”
“Go home and cry. Stop drinking in bathtubs. Eat something that isn’t bleach or memes.”
