do it, somehow

write. write write write. new post.

me as child after a ballet lesson: new background

i still haven’t been able to bring myself to read flowers for algernon

years later, a few years ago now

everything feels scattered. livejournal is appealing; for the privacy. perhaps i’ll think of something else.

my ssi is being reviewed and i don’t want to want to die. i should absolutely still qualify, but that’s my livelihood and whether i end up unsafe or agitated in inpatient remains yet to be seen.

the messier i am now, the further i’ll have come when i heal. if i heal. will i heal?

if i do, i’ll be an icon. an example of how mental illness can be so bad and then okay.

oldish self portrait diptych, pre-now-removed-nipple-piercings

did you know i am allergic to cheap metals? even mid-range ones, like surgical steel or titanium.

“it gets rough but i work with it, ’cause i’m tough, fit, a renaissance bitch,”
– Kitty Ray

i made this when i was 19 and housebound from agoraphobia for the first time

ok. much love. to all

xoxo
zélie

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