Yesterday I was a grown-up and emailed the director I’m working with asking to talk about things I/they/we can do to help keep me well and sent him the list of suggested adjustments from Mind. He sent me a positive reply - he said that talking regularly sounds good, and that he’ll speak to the other directors too, and that it’s something we can discuss more (which means a conversation sometime in the next week maybe? idk).

So here I am, pushing my employers to make a supportive, inclusive environment and helping find ways to make that happen. Looking out for my mental health. Go me?

"Do not tolerate, from yourself or others, jokes that make fun of anyone for anything that is harmful or out of their control. Ever. Period. Full stop. Not racist jokes, not sexist jokes, not homophobic or transphobic jokes, not jokes that make fun of people who have physical or mental disabilities or illnesses. Practice this now, and practice it deliberately. You should have a sense of humour, but this is NOT a sense of humour. Don’t do it. Ever. It’s never okay."

The dean of my law school who is a fucking BAMF (via actualcanadianfemmesherlock)

(via betterthandarkchocolate)

"So this is a call for each of you to remember herself and himself, to reach for new definitions of that self, and to live intensely. To not settle for the safety of pretended sameness and the false security that sameness seems to offer. To feel the consequences of who you wish to be, lest you bring nothing of lasting worth because you have withheld some piece of the essential, which is you."

Audre Lorde (via blacqueerwomyn)

(via brightmilk)

"Every city has a single word that defines it, that identifies most people who live there. If you could read people’s thoughts as they were passing you on the streets of any given place, you would discover that most of them are thinking the same thought. Whatever that majority thought might be - that is the word of the city. And if your personal word does not match the word of the city then you don’t really belong there."

- Elizabeth Gilbert, Eat Pray Love

I’m trying to work out what the words are - for the town where I grew up (prosperous), the city I’m in now (I don’t know), for myself (trust, maybe?)

Ten months ago I was in hospital.

Since then, I’ve found a job and held it.  I’ve remade my relationship.  I’ve worked through four months of psychological therapy and five of art therapy.  I’ve spent six months free of self harm.  I’ve appealed misdiagnosis and mistreatment.  I’ve started back at uni, and sat exams and a series of reviews.   I’ve been abroad.  I’m living independently again now.  I have a degree.  I’ve had some wonderful people come into my life.  There have been difficult days, but I’ve fought through enough of them to make it this far.

I’m not in hospital.  I’m not in danger.  

I’ve come a long way.  

(Source: s-oleil, via cream-and-stars)

to do

for my reference, so I can make a plan

(Source: loveontheground, via ok-ish)

(Source: charcoalcloud)