My psychology teacher showed us this picture in class and spent a good 10 minutes talking about how depression is a disorder, a mental disease, not a choice, etc. I respect him so much for that.
I didn’t turn all the lights off in my brain for shits and giggles.
Doing some super heroine redesigns! Teenage/street clothing super heroines? I dunno, but I’m liking the idea that maybe its not all just spandex everywhere!
Batgirl and Wonder Woman are up first :)
I’ve just woken up and those sketches made my day already.
Follow for more like this :)
"We were twenty-five and twenty-eight, but we acted like fifteen year olds. Fighting over little things, storming off, breaking up for a week and then getting back together. But developmentally, we were fifteen year olds. We’d been in the closet our whole lives, so we didn’t have any practice with relationships. He still hadn’t come out to his family and a lot of his friends. We were on one of our ‘little breaks’ when he died suddenly from a seizure. And nobody in his family or circle knew I existed. It took me four months to find out that he died. I thought he’d just decided never to talk to me again. His family never found out about me. Or him, for that matter."
Sometimes we have triggers that we feel are too strange or obscure or embarrassing to talk about. Maybe an act of abuse occurred in the kitchen, with the toaster on, so now you’re afraid of toasters and the smell of rye bread. Maybe you were hurt on a Ferris wheel and now, whenever you see it portrayed as a romantic thing, you have to leave the room to get yourself together. Maybe you avoid alcohol or other mind-altering drugs because the idea of losing control over yourself is too scary, and now when your friends ask you to try things, you don’t know what to say, or how to say it. You just keep repeating, “No, sorry. Maybe one day…”
Maybe a campy, cheesy europop song that everyone loves and insists on bringing up at parties was playing in the background on the night someone hurt you. Maybe your abuser always wore certain suits and ties, or gave you a specific candy bar to buy your silence. Maybe you were watching Barney and now you hate dinosaurs even though everyone is supposed to love them. You just can’t explain it to your friends and loved ones. It’s too complicated, too weird and awkward to say it plainly: I was raped, or, I was fucked as a kid.