Hopelessness - Tumblr Posts
most people chose to be sad cause being happy and losing that happiness is more scary than being sad and hopeless in the beginning
Why do my mutuals love to call me out like this 😭
I'm in my 20's , of course I'm tired of trying everything seems hopeless and impossible .
TW: Dysphoria
I love trying to fall asleep and getting hit with a wave of dysphoria ... I wish I was a pretty, quirky, badass alt woman. And instead I'm just a weird ass fat guy lying in their bed crying afraid of doing anything about that in fear of their own ducking gaze... Sometimes I wish I never met my awesome trans friend and kept thinking that wanting to press the magic woman button was just a quirk of being a dude...
SWARM - Consumed (Official Video)
Obsessed with Swarm, they need more views ❤
I feel so tired and unmotivated and stuck and discontented and empty and hopeless
White Lies
We must not tell lies
We humans know this since we were kids
But what happens if someone’s truth can’t be said out loud?
A truth that bleeds pain and spread hopelessness Should she reach people’s ears?
If it saddens the hearts of the loved ones Is it necessary to be heard?
‘I am fine’ ‘I am happy’ ‘I am having a good time’
My lips are sour from all the lies
I am scared about humanity, the Earth is dying and I want to be helpful
Sometimes some white lies can keep a soul from shattering
Been in the hospital since yesterday morning at 6am. My child may have become suddenly blind in one eye and 50% blind in the other. Easter will be spent in the hospital away from my husband and my other child while we wait for tests and results. Not gonna leave here until Tuesday morning at the earliest.
It seems like it will be permanent.
If anyone wants to write me smut to pass the time please do! lol 😞😞😞🫣
“The test of a first-rate intelligence is the ability to hold two opposed ideas in the mind at the same time, and still retain the ability to function. One should, for example, be able to see that things are hopeless and yet be determined to make them otherwise.”
—
F. Scott Fitzgerald
He kept telling himself that one day it would all somehow make sense.
The war had been going on for a little over a year and everyone was done.
He walked the halls of the Resolute looking at the faces of his men.
They were all tired of this war. There breaks becoming less and less. While the battle's are becoming harder.
They are all worn down there last campaign had been difficult and a lot of men had died.
So many men were killed in a war that they were forced to fight.
It seemed every day he was loosing more and more brothers. He wondered sometimes, if they would ever survive this war. If he would ever survive this war.
Sometimes he layed awake thinking about the life he could have with his Cyare where there is no war.
Where they don't have to hide from the council or from the GAR.
He walked the hallways. The quiet empty hallways that used to be filled with men but was now filled with ghosts of the past.
He paused in front of the medbay and walked in. He was instantly hit with the groans of dying men and the smell of antiseptic and blood.
He walked the aisles looking at each man remembering their faces and their names.
He knew some of them would not survive the night.
Kix stopped in front of him and pointed him toward his Cyare's bed.
His General and the man he loves lay motionless. He had been injured trying to save his men from an ambush.
He remembers cradling his unconscious form in his arms. Begging him to survive because he needed him.
His General who always helped other's. Who cared about his men almost died saving them.
He sat down and held Anakin's cold hand. His face was pale and he had big bags under his eyes.
He looked at his Cyare laying peacefully attached to a bunch of machines.
He turned his head away trying not to look at his failure.
It's his job to keep his General safe. That's what he was made for. He was expendable while his General was not.
He looked away but only came face to face with more of his failure. He looked at his men injured and dying before looking at his Cyare again and thinking about what it was all for.
But he knew deep down he would never get his answer. He would never know.
That's why he did the same thing he does after every battle. Pick himself up and keep telling himself that it would all someday make sense.
I am a hopeless romantic. Special emphasis on HOPELESS, but a romantic nonetheless!
I made this page so I could have a "place" where I would collect positive things even in the middle of the pain and terror I feel every day. But I feel like there is hardly anything I can enjoy anymore. I am terribly homesick at this point. All I can focus on again are my rapid heartbeats. Every day a new anxiety symptom appears and I obsess over it, even though I know I shouldn't. I cannot convince my brain that this is only anxiety. My health anxiety is suffocating me and it goes hand in hand with thanatophobia. I have so many doctor's appointments again that I am terrified of. I don't even want to go to uni anymore, even though there are two weeks left. I just can't enjoy it, and it's terrible, because I loved studying this major and I loved going to classes with my friends. Generalized anxiety took SO MUCH from me in just a short span of a few weeks. It took so much from me to the point I cannot find myself inside these bones anymore. I don't recognize myself, I identify with this disorder now, even though I'm well aware I shouldn't. I know I need therapy but the psychiatrist did not assign me to a therapist and I can't afford a private one. I feel lost and hopeless. I feel sick. I am afraid I won't see my family again. The only thing making me a little bit happy are thight hugs, petting cats and talking to my sister (the latter also makes me cry, though). I am so sorry for this post, I just needed to vent somewhere.
P.S.: Not to mention I desperately try to finish uni while battling this Hell and I have no idea if it's worth it.
- Reni
I don't want it to go away because then fear, bad thoughts and feelings of sadness, emptiness and hopelessness will come back.
the ghost you left behind
Someone else sleeps On your side of the bed. Everything got worse Before it go better. Is it better? I'm not as strong As I used to be. I don't like crying When I do I'm afraid it will never stop I died with you I am no longer Your "us" "We" "Our" My wife loves me She looked at me And said without saying There is not enough room For the three of us.
Which also means we're constantly triggered not matter what we do. And when we're triggered we lash out at other/ourself and end up hurting them. No matter how many times you tell yourself that you can do it, that you can just be yourself, you cant. Not just because majority of the time it feels like your being split in half, but because you dont feel safe. And that scares me.
I scare me.
I don't feel safe. Doesn't matter where I am. I am never safe.
Special Someone 💖 (my hopeless romantic music video)
Redish-Maroon pursesᡣ𐭩ྀིྀི
source - pinterest 📌
Pink is alright, it’s cute, it’s adorbs, butttttt… RED
is just soooo much cuter to me and underrated!
I love 🕰️♥️🥃🍫🎻🍒🕯️🛍️🎀🧸💼
aesthetics (dark coquette ig??)
The Kids Aren't Alright
* ~ I'm sorry for making this ~ *
Doomers & Fatalism
Regardless of your age, you need a reason to move forward. You need hope. Yet, it's hard to find hope for teens and young adults.
Not a year goes by without an update on the planet's decline (at our hand), wealth is only feeling more unstable and unequally distributed, a pandemic destroyed any hope of sociability for some, and social media does more harm than good when it "connects" people.
There's no true community, nothing to take pride in, there's hardly motivation for ambition or wealth. Hell, we grow up being told we'll be a generation of renters, because it's a statistical improbability than any of us will EVER afford a home without working 3 jobs into our grave.
I can't speak for America, but I know my government haven't made any real effort to prevent renter's from taking that news and slowly inflating rent costs each month.
I'm a part of the generation that is thought to deal with the broadest range of mental health concerns; however, I'm also part of the generation that's most likely to be told to "deal with it," or "grow up," by the people perpetuating our suffering, or the peers that fell victim to toxic hustle culture— enabling the shitty circumstances.
When you start adulthood with so many problems that directly impact your life, most of which come at no fault of your own, you'd hope for help in addressing those matters, but it never comes.
We're told we're lazy, we don't try hard enough, and we've got it easy (which is a demonstrable lie). How is it any surprise we became hopeless doomers? At some point you just get the idea that we were destined to fail.
Threats of War
Now we're told to be ready for World War 3 and I'm struggling to understand why. What values am I defending? Why should I die for a country that doesn't care about me?
Sure, Ukraine and Palestine are in shitty situations, but saying that doesn't require me to do anything. Though they demonstrate something: the government will risk our lives for money, and turn a blind eye to genocide if it suits them.
All that matters is that we're made to feel like our interests align. They don't represent us. They represent themselves.
Don't get me wrong, I don't support either conflict, and I sympathise with the aforementioned nations; however, I am not willing to die for them— I don't think you are. So is it even fair for us to bother complaining? It's not like diplomacy has done a thing so far.
Whether we're roped into a war or not, it doesn't feel like we'd have a choice.
Hobbies and Corporations
Normally I'd propose finding an outlet for everything. I'm not sure that's ideal anymore. Commonplace hobbies like gaming, sports, martial arts, reading, and art, they require 3 things: time, motivation, and effort.
Thanks to hustle culture, holding 3 jobs, running a drop shipping business, and abandoning any meaningful social life is considered just enough and reasonable. That doesn't leave time for personal hobbies, entertainment, or time to actually live. A life like that is no life at all. You're an animal operating on the exclusive goal of survival. You're alive, but you're not living.
Among those of us too physically or mentally scarred to work like our peers, we compassionately took to pen and paper, or software and devices, writing stories, drawing and animating worlds, or making music.
I fear that pocket of joy is getting smaller. AI image generation has already impacted artists, AI voice recreations are already being used in place of some voice actors, and we've all seen the AI voice covers for songs— claiming "you don't need to learn to sing." It didn't take long for me to see "generative AI" being proposed as a source for track samples and stems in music production.
Considering such things, it's hard to motivate yourself to put your work out there. You struggle to justify spending time creating anything, and you're probably not ready to put the effort into producing enough algorithm optimised works per day. After all, no one will see it. No one cares.
That's how it feels.
Social Media
Maybe we still have digital spaces? Really. Are cespools like Twitter spaces you can enjoy? Even Tumblr is quite detached, with small accounts struggling to get so much as a couple likes— nevermind a reblog, and god forbid you get a comment or DM.
That's minor though, it's the relationships that bother me. The ability to lock someone out of your life, within 5 seconds, for the slightest of perceived infractions. You're sensitive and a snowflake if you need boundaries, and you're "rude" and "mean" when you're pushed too far for not establishing them.
You can join a fandom or community and run into those issues, but do you really need more trouble? Ive hung around with furries since I was 13 or 14. It wasn't a furry that SA'd me, and I've never been groomed. But as a child online, I was labelled as a dog fucking groomer (at 15), because I was in a furry community discord server. I don't like to think about how that made the young adult owner of the server feel.
Social media is good for "satirical trolls," who take pleasure in hurting as many people as they can, and then claiming it's OK because they're joking, and you should've known. Is it really worth the effort for anyone else? You know, us "normal people," not bogged down by million strong fanbases, actively managing parasocial relationships and morally questionable stalking.
Closing Statements
I'm not entirely sure why I wrote this post. I guess I'm just another girl crying on the internet when I should save it for the therapy I can't actually afford.
I want to be hopeful, to feel like there's something attainable to desire, or even just things to look forward to. It's been a long time since I woke up and felt there was a good reason to be awake or even alive.
Thanks,
- The Girl That Doesn't Exist