Sometimes I worry when I speak to people who have known me for a long while. Ever since it happened it is if I’m perpetually worried about whether they can see any differences in me. How my eyes no longer have a spark to them, or much emotion, or how my smiles are bound to seem more forced now and how conversation can sometimes feel very straining.
I can’t share much with anyone. It isn’t something you really speak on. There isn’t anyone I know who I can go to and expect to understand. There are still nights where I have nightmares that wake me up in a pool of my own sweat as I lay around shaking trying to get myself to calm down and go back to sleep. And many days where I still find myself tearing up in public because I can’t suppress the thoughts and memories enough. They are always there. Every day, every moment. It’s been hard to breathe and I’ve spent what’s felt like a long time, wishing that I wasn’t.
Via: togabito Source: parakavka
"i can’t fucking read"
MORE REASONS WHY NORWEGIAN FOREST CATS ARE THE BEST:
Norwegian forest cats are the best.
They look like little snow lions.
The colloquial term for them is “skogkatten”.
They’re also called “fairy cats” in Norway, because they’re so pretty.
They run down trees headfirst.
They’re fricking gigantic and they purr really loud.
They literally walk over snow like motherloving Legolas.
In Norse mythology, skogkatts pull the goddess Freya’s carriage.
Who doesn’t want a carriage pulled by cats?
Viking cats. End of story.
Oh what a terrible thing it appears that I haven’t reblogged these glorious beasts this year yet