valentine’s day is soon and this is the only valentine’s day where i’m like actually happy to be alone, i want to treat myself and buy myself crystals and candies and not feel guilty about it! so excited hehe
0When you’re a kid who grows up in an environment where high academic performance is expected and not rewarded, it really does traumatize you, even if your parents or caregivers aren’t neglecting your ability to academically perform at your best. All around you, you always see your classmates and your friends be rewarded for getting A’s and B’s, but for you, it’s just what’s expected of you. You’re rarely appreciated for what you accomplish in school or in general because of the high standards that have been placed upon you and you’re never given room to prioritize anything other than school. It’s the reason why you’re so touched when someone else, especially in cases where it’s an adult figure, tells you that they’re proud of you. Sure, hearing “I love you” is pretty neat, but for some reason, hearing “I’m proud of you” means more because it’s something that is rare to your ears. When you find yourself always being criticized and ridiculed for anything below a 97%, you’re subconsciously starved of praise and recognition to the point where you seek it from people outside of your environment at home. People may have always saw you as a nerd or a suck-up to teachers or other adult figures, but it was for reasons beyond their understanding. People may have always envied you for your capability to be the smart kid in school who always got good grades and the approval of teachers, but it wasn’t of your own free will; it was because you were never allowed to do anything else. Society always seems to focus on kids who are academically neglected, and while they aren’t invalid, society fails to acknowledge the kids who are academically overpushed and end up emotionally or mentally neglected instead.
4It has been said on my blog that I don’t use any trigger warnings (unless my any of my friends have tw requests), so please, if you find any of my content triggering, feel free to unfollow and block; I don’t blame you for it whatsoever and you have every right to do so, because your mental health and well being matters so much more than a crusty vent blog.
2![why can’t i get this out of me? [my vent art] #ventcore#vent#vent art#vent tag #personality disorder vent #personality disorder#self harm#self injury#cutting#purging#eating disorder#ed posts#bulimia#anamia#traumacore#trauma art#actuallymentallyill#actuallytraumatized#trauma aesthetic#trauma post#depressing post#depressing art](https://64.media.tumblr.com/7864799356a38983ea94eb63945ad20f/845ad28f3142fce4-e0/s1280x1920/fedcc28b729ade7bccb562555e3a593066896642.png)
Parents, arguing. Not even my biological father. Me, at the table. My mother leaving the house, my stepfather swearing, leaving me alone with my half eaten lunch, then returning and pretending everything would be fine even though it’s not. I sit there, trying to escape his glance, listening to his monologue that was meant to be a conversation. Anxiety about the food, knowing damn well that it will end up in the toilet, mixed with water, stomach acid and a few potato chips i ate to comfort myself. I write these lines, shaking, sitting in front of the toilet. A coping mechanism, nothing else. A hurt little child that’s supposed to be an adult, innocent, broken by accusations for things i never did. Selfhate growing like cancer, i can feel it in my stomach, my head, the voices. It wasn’t even a loud argument, but the trigger is burried deep down in my heart. It sounds so edgy, but it’s the sad truth. This is reality, even though it doesn’t feel so. It’s not a nightmare. It’s not a dream that will end in a few hours. It is life, and i have it all in front of me. And that is what scares me the most.
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