some customers: oh my god i’m so sorry i have to ask you a question i feel so foolish for not knowing this already please help me but i’m so sorry forgive me
other customers: answer this question before i’ve even asked it or i’ll kill you where you stand
once you stop fantasizing about that ideal version of yourself and start working towards becoming that person by setting your alarm clock earlier and actually going to the gym and actually volunteering at places and actually eating healthier and not procrastinating and working just a little bit harder you’ll realize that it was so easy all along. becoming your ideal self will only ever exist in your mind until you make the decision to work towards becoming that person. get up!! get going!! it’s now or never!! there is no light at the end of the tunnel!! get that flashlight and pave your own path bitch bc no one else is going to do it for u!!
Thank you to all the people who posted this so I ended up seeing it. I really needed this right now. Thank you!
Yeah… Not gonna lie… I cried…
We need more people like this
Goddamn it stop making me feel human
The therapist I wanna be.
Text in the image:
“I’m a therapist and keep this poster in my waiting room, apparently it’s saved a few lives.”
I don’t like the phrase “a cry for help.” I just don’t like how it sounds. When somebody says to me, “I’m thinking about suicide. I have a plan: I just need a reason not to do it,” the last thing I see is helplessness.
I think your depression has been beating you up for years. It’s called you ugly, and stupid, and pathetic, and a failure, for so long that you’ve forgotten that it’s wrong. You don’t see any good in yourself, and you don’t have any hope.
But still here you are: you’ve come over to me, banged on my door and said, “HEY! Staying alive is REALLY HARD right now! Just give me something to fight with! I don’t care if it’s a stick! Give me a stick and I can stay alive!”
How is that helpless? I think that’s incredible. You’re like a marine: trapped for years behind enemy lines. Your gun has been taken away, you’re out of ammo, you’re malnourished, and you’ve probably caught some kind of jungle virus that’s making you hallucinate giant spiders.
And you’re still just going, “GIVE ME A STICK. I’M NOT DYING OUT HERE.” “A cry for help” makes it sound like I’m supposed to take pity on you, but you don’t need my pity. This isn’t pathetic. This is the will to survive. This is how humans lived long enough to become the dominant species.
With NO hope, running on NOTHING, you’re ready to cut through a hundred miles of hostile jungle with nothing but a stick, if that’s what it takes to get to safety.
Zoom in on her face in the third gif. She means this. You are completely irreplaceable.
This went deep man. Look at her face. I would love to know where this came from, what she was talking about. And it’s true. So true. Completely irreplaceable. You are you and there is no better you
Reblogging because I needed to see this message tonight, and something tells me someone else does too.
Reblogging as I think every one of my followers are special and impossible to replace.
Remember that.
You are all special and important, and Ellen is a gift.
Shout out to my Arabic teacher that looked at us yesterday mid-lesson and said, “I’m worried. You all look exhausted and depressed.”
Of course we were all like, “Oh yeah we’re dead inside, you haven’t noticed?”
And he snapped shut the textbook, threw up his hands and said, “That’s not healthy! No more vocab! Time for dancing!”
And he taught us a dance from Iraq and we danced instead of doing vocab. We didn’t stop dancing until he saw all of us laughing and was satisfied that we were all feeling better. It was perhaps the coolest, most kind-hearted thing I’ve ever seen a college instructor do.
My life got better when I accepted that sometimes shit just doesn’t work out. You aren’t always going to get the job, the partner, the class, the internship or whatever else you care about. Sometimes shit hits the fan and you have to be okay with that. Every time your life falls to pieces you can’t hit the floor, you gotta get your shit together, let out a little cry and keep going. Like just bc shit doesn’t work out does not mean life is going terribly, it just means it wasn’t meant to be at this time and that’s A o fucking kay.
