having anxiety and depression is like being scared and tired at the same time. it’s the fear of failure but no urge to be productive, and it’s wanting friends while hating socializing. it’s like running a marathon with the willpower of a corpse because you want to get to the end but you also want to sleep and evaporate into the soil and become compost for snails and flowers because then at least you’re useful
wow this is so me
We live in a society that glorifies sexual assault to a degree that when I was a teenager I asked myself whether something was wrong with me for not being groped in the streets. The pride with which my classmates spoke of how apparently every random male hit on them made me wonder whether I was just too ugly to be desired. Something is rotten when harassment becomes the means young girls are taught to determine their self-worth with.
part of me wants to wear leather jackets and red lipstick and be super sexy and break boys’ hearts but then I also want to wear sundresses and be sweet and cute and shy and giggly but a different part of me wants to be beautiful and smart and mysterious and another part of me just wants to sit in bed and watch netflix while I eat pizza