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March 07 2018

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purebushcraft:

bushcraftturk:

Party mode on #bushcraft #wildcamping #survival #camping #camp #instanature #outdoors #adventure #hiking #forest #modernoutdoorsman #wood #woodsman #liveauthentic #modernnature #naturelover #backpacking #nature_seekers #wilderness #getoutside #campvibes #menofoutdoors #ig_turkey #bushcrafter #knife #natureaddict #bushcrafting

¥

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purebushcraft:

Foraged for some pine resin and hit the jack pot. Used it to make some candles which in turn I’m using as the heat source for my desk top hearth radiator.

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nuka-rockit:

when the Anxiety™ suddenly kicks in for no reason:

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antisocialaddict:

Take my hand
Take my whole life too…

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So

jordisstigander:

I often heard stories about soldiers who go berserk during battle and sustaining terrible wounds but just ignoring them. Sometimes they will be literally dead on their feet but will continue fighting.

The only way to get them to stop is to knock them down. At that moment, somehow, their brain realizes the extent of their wounds. At this point, the actual walking dead immediately die.

Sometimes, it seems we must be knocked down to realize just how damaged we are.


I am clinically depressed.

Now, I’m getting better, so don’t freak out too much. The thing is, I’ve been depressed for years now. But I kept fighting through it. Ignoring it. Slapping a band-aid on it and ignoring it.

Around March of last year it got to the point where I was knocked down, and my brain just…kind of broke. That’s the best way I can describe it. I kept on living, but everything slowly started winding down. I couldn’t fight it anymore.

Thank God, I got help. I got into counseling. I confessed how bad it was to my family and friends. I started anti-depressants.

However, things haven’t magically fixed themselves.

I was fighting wounded for a long time, and those wounds need time to heal. It’s frustrating, but now that I’ve been knocked down, in certain ways I’m less functional even as I’m getting help than I was when I simply ignored my mental problems.

I want to simply get back into the full swing of things, but that’s simply not going to happen. A gunshot wound needs rest and time to heal, and mental wounds are the same. Even then, it may never be the same.


So, the point of this is,

I haven’t posted any stories for a while.

Back in November was the first time since March I was even able to think about writing. I have written bits and pieces since then, but it’s still harder than it was.

But I want to write again. Not just for you guys or for my sister or for my IRL friends or because I might publish one day. I want to write for me. I want the magic again. I want to be able to create. God has given me a gift, and I don’t want to waste it.

Around the same time, I stopped answering asks and messages. I’m going to start answering them again. If you sent me something and I didn’t respond, I’m sorry. I hope to get to it soon.


So, TLDR:

I am depressed. I’m getting better, but I won’t be fixed for a long, long time.

But I’m going to start writing again.

I’m going to start answering y’all.

Thanks for sticking with me.

~Jordis

u-n-known-poet:

“But, deep down inside I think I’m screaming for someone to save me. I’m so lost in this girl who pretends to be okay all the time that I became this soul on autopilot. I just need somebody to help me…. I’m not as happy as I’m pretending to be.”

— I want to feel alive again // k.m.

depression-healthy-carrier:

Everyone in life is going to hurt you, you just have to figure out which people are worth the  pain.

writingawaythescars:

“Today I got up and went to work. Tomorrow I will do the same. The next day I will probably do the same again. That’s the thing about life. It’s monotonous. We see people out doing fun things and we sit and think “fuck, why can’t I be doing that?”. We sit and we ponder and minutes fly by and then you realise it’s been hours of you sitting in your room wishing to be someone somewhere else. And maybe that’s why we get sad because we feel we’re not fulfilling our life. We feel like we’re not progressing, like we’re standing still watching others around us run by. And we just do not know how to stop the routine which will bore us to our graves. I think that’s why we get sad, we’re wishing to be someone somewhere else.”

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helloiamdepressed:

feelings are gay

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depressionhope:

What does depression feel like to you?

thin-like-twigs:

“You should get out of the house more.”

Well sorry, my crippling depression doesn’t allow me to leave my fucking bed, Karen.

May 28 2017

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cabinporn:

Val D'Ultimo in South Tyrol, Italy

More than 150 years ago this house was built on ground-level. In 1882, a rogue flood caused by a near stream swept away the surroundings, but the cabin has withstood the flood. Surprisingly a giant rock appeared under the cabin, which saved the house and its residents from being swept away.

Submitted by Stefan Mahlknecht / @stefan_mahl

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