Personal Blog - Blog Posts

💪😼First drawing completed.

Ok, hi guys, I really should learn English instead of using the deepl translator 🥺👉👈

Aha but the important thing, then I decided to get back into the world of drawing and all that, because hell if others can write about their favorite characters, I can draw them osea, for that I used to draw, but I quit you know procrastination 😣🔫

So expect me to upload my classes on how I relearn anatomy🦴, and basic color, (traditional and digital)🥸🤓 and maybe how I learn my fucking subjects already know some algebra🤢 and languages🗿 or maybe my martial arts 🥋👍.

You can probably notice that I'm in diverse fandom, so I'll upload of varied characters, if I don't die trying😢🙏, and of course I'll tag everything to make it easier🗿. (If I upload NSFW I'll put it in censorship, since I understand that not everyone wants to see that kind of content, and that's respectable, otherwise everything is fine, and hopefully we won't have problems).🫠

Bye, bye💅🍒

Vero/Kit . 21 . It/They/He

Autistic traumagenic did system with bpd. This is a blog for us to keep our stuff on. Maybe make friends idk. Mostly Vero probably.

Not going to censor anything we say (as this is going to act as a sort of "open communication line" as we don't have good internal communication), but will tag appropriately.

DNI: under 18s, gatekeepers, "disorder police", cringe haters

BYF: This blog will contain NSFW, trauma-sharing, fictional depictions of sensitive topics, self-harm discussions, favourite person discussions. Probably more, will try to add accordingly.

Frequent fronters:

Vero: host. Subhuman dogthing who has intense source ties (delusional.) and needs intense therapy. Copes with his source which is a fictional world we created.

93: autism holder. Likes webcore, viruscore, and old technology. Interact with care.

Coda: persecutor. Not good, lets put it that way. Usually only around if Vero is around.

Check out my other Tumblr and blog on WordPress!!!

You get some really honest content!

21. Parenting with Depression

21. Parenting with Depression

Not gonna lie, this one was difficult to share. This first part is something I had written when it was getting to be too much, and it clearly shows the state of mind I was in at the time. I just want to be as raw and honest as possible in order to help those who may feel this way.

I Hate It

I was scared as all get out when I found out I was pregnant. Being single and raised Catholic, it didn’t…

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Antlers Of Life

Personal book in progess TW: Depressive thoughts and possible triggering themes 1.484 words

Chapter 1 – REGRET 

Most of the time I would rather sacrifice a good night’s sleep just to avoid waking up. It seems easier going through a day exhausted, knowing soon I'd get a good nap after a busy day, rather than dealing with the process of waking up. I’ve always hated waking up at a specific time. Sure, waking up naturally is obviously much preferred than not getting any sleep but waking up on cue does it for me.   I’m not a morning person. I hate the mornings. I hate most things, actually. 

I hate working, I hate getting up from my bed, I hate interacting with people, I hate society, I hate the afternoon, I hate rules, I hate depending on someone, I hate it when others tell me to do something, I hate myself most of the time. The list could go on and on. Sometimes, I wish to not wake up at all. The idea of eternal sleep sounds amazing. I’d be alone, I’d have full control but most of all I could breathe and relax. The feeling of taking a deep breath, your chest expanding without feeling tight or limited, the fresh air filling your lungs to the brim. It sounds nice in a literal sense, now imagine how nice it feels in a metaphorical sense, where your whole life feels like a big, fresh breath. This type of life only appears in my wildest dreams. I’ve never heard anyone describe their life like that. Because it isn’t. Life’s a bitch. But I still can’t help but wonder, like a little doe surrounded by darkness, that maybe one day, my life will be a big, fresh deep breath as lights poke through. Is it so wrong to hope for such a feeling? 

My life isn’t bad, don’t get me wrong, others have it much worse. But I still crave to feel like a person. I still crave to understand what exactly I am, what I’m feeling, why I function the way I do, why am I uncapable of some things while others nail it from the first try? I know we are supposed to be different, I know that’s the beauty of it, but sometimes I wish to be like someone else, someone who knows what they are supposed to do. And I know, I know, many will tell me; Fawn, there isn’t a single person that knows what to do with their life. I guess we shouldn’t be considered that different then. Why is it so hard to be human sometimes? Aren’t we supposed to have control over that? Over whom we are, what we do, what we strive to be and then making it all possible? Isn’t that apart of being human? Why aren’t we human yet we claim we are? 

This is why I hate rules, society, the government, parents, any kind of authority. They make you forget about yourself, about your pleasures, the things you enjoy and the things that aren’t actually impossible to achieve, you’re just too busy focusing on their needs and your own survival that you leave yourself behind. In life, most things and people will always remind us that we are the most important thing to ourselves, yet no one actually puts themselves first. Not the people who remind you of that, not you, not anyone else.  

In social situations, I always bite off more than I can chew. Actually, that’s not true. That’s just something you’re used to hearing. That’s the common situation. Where a person bites off more than they can chew. A situation where you say things you don’t mean, where you say too much. That’s not it for me. I always bite less than I can chew. I always bite a chunk that never fills me, never even reaches my belly, yet I find a way to make it satisfy me. Or maybe that’s just something I tell myself to not bite off more than I do. But... What am I so scared of? Is it guilt? No, it can’t be. Is it just general fear? Is it because I was raised like that or is it something else. Something I can’t see just yet. Maybe I’m just a people pleaser as everyone calls it. There’s always a reason behind it, but I wouldn’t really be able to see it at the moment. 

There are many things that make me feel the same. Laying in my bed, unable to get up from it, completely tied down to it. Other people such as my family constantly warn me of the concequences I’m already well aware of. Which made me realize, sometimes people’s encouragement only discourages me furthermore. It was always funny to me how it had the opposite effect of what it was meant to do. Moping in bed definitely isn’t something I thought life would have in for me, but I do admit, sometimes it’s very necessary. I don’t know how long I'd be able to not snap if I didn’t rot in my bed as much as I do. Makes me question things when I put it like that. 

 I think I’ve realized a part of why I chew less than I need. 

It’s the fact I’m afraid of being in the wrong. I don’t want to attack an innocent person; someone I simply misunderstood. It’s because I always put others in front of me. I ignore my feelings, worrying about theirs. I don’t want to be the bad guy. Anytime I’d stand up for myself, even if I was in the right, other people would go against me and stand with the one who hurt me. That action alone makes me doubt myself and my actions. What if I actually am the bad one? I just don’t want to gain confidence defending myself against someone who is actually innocent. I fear regret. I don’t want to regret standing up for myself or doubt myself, it’s not something I'm used to or something pleasant to feel. 

I’ll always regret bed rotting, no matter the amount of positive cheering I get from friends or family I still choose that every single time and I would lie if I said I didn’t regret it. Life is much more than my four walls of comfort and safety. I know that, I know that very well, but I don’t feel that. No matter how many mistakes I make, I keep making them because I always give in to my feelings. To my cravings. To whatever has that control over me, and sometimes I’m not sure I’d want to change that. It feels comfortable as much as it’s killing me. 

Regret will always follow me through my actions. And I know I can stop it; I keep doing things that make me regretful such as not getting a good night's sleep and being overly exhausted just because I didn’t want to wake up. The waking up process, as annoying as it is, doesn’t last long and frankly everyone goes through it every single day. So, why am I so keen on fighting it? It won’t kill me, and I’ll regret it anyhow. That’s a question I don’t know the answer to yet.  Feeling like this makes me frustrated, because I am working on it as much as it doesn’t seem like it.   Because in reality, there’s a big part of me that’s fighting all the other ones that put my body and mind down. A part of me that’s sick of feeling depressive, regret, guilt... A part of me that wants to be a person, a person that shines more than the sun. A person that wants to not make people feel regret like I do. And sometimes that side can get so pushy, it pushes me and the others over the edge.  

But that side makes me even more confused. It’s so different then the side I just explained, the side that has all those thoughts. I don’t know who I am. 

Because truly I actually love the mornings and not missing out a part of the day, I love working and feeling my body move, I love getting up from my bed and making another day, I love interacting with people and learning new things about them, I love the society, at least one part of it, the part that supports other people, I love the afternoon and the warmth given by the sun, I still hate the rules though, I love being independent but it also feels relaxing to sometimes depend on someone else, I love it when others tell me what to do because my memory isn’t the best and they are just trying to help and I’m definitely still learning to love myself most of the time.   

So, who am I? The negative part of my thoughts or the positive one fighting to break to the surface? 

I don't have any coping mechanism. Things hurt me, I sleep. I want to cry, I sleep. My head hurts, I want to sleep. My wardrobe is messy, I want to sleep. My coffee is bitter, I want to sleep. No one loves me, I will just sleep.

In all the colours I expected love to be, it was not what I got . I thought love will be the dawn colours. The warmness of orange that at the end of the day being with your lover will ease the scars , the calmness of blue that doesn't matter how complicated the situation is we will get over it , the assurance of lavender that it will all heal, the sweetness of pink that no matter what love will make everything right and even the yellow that doesn't matter what at the end love will win, but for me love was the colour of silver. Too shinny and perfect from afar but from close it was the colour no one will choose. The colour of coldness, the colour which will left you numb. The colour which will leave you in the state of being non-committal.

Fck feelings, I love being dead

You know the feeling when you are scrolling and you found one poetry or quote and it hits you so hard like those are the words you want to scream, that is the feeling you are getting, you want to express yourself but you never found the right words and when you saw those lines you found your pieces in it

@vsprincessdiaries

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