That which doesn't kill us makes us stranger

screaming into the ether

19,864 notes

My mother once told me that trauma is like Lord of the Rings. You go through this crazy, life-altering thing that almost kills you (like say having to drop the one ring into Mount Doom), and that thing by definition cannot possibly be understood by someone who hasn’t gone through it. They can sympathize sure, but they’ll never really know, and more than likely they’ll expect you to move on from the thing fairly quickly. And they can’t be blamed, people are just like that, but that’s not how it works.

Some lucky people are like Sam. They can go straight home, get married, have a whole bunch of curly headed Hobbit babies and pick up their gardening right where they left off, content to forget the whole thing and live out their days in peace. Lots of people however, are like Frodo, and they don’t come home the same person they were when they left, and everything is more horrible and more hard then it ever was before. The old wounds sting and the ghost of the weight of the one ring still weighs heavy on their minds, and they don’t fit in at home anymore, so they get on boats go sailing away to the Undying West to look for the sort of peace that can only come from within. Frodos can’t cope, and most of us are Frodos when we start out.

But if we move past the urge to hide or lash out, my mother always told me, we can become Pippin and Merry. They never ignored what had happened to them, but they were malleable and receptive to change. They became civic leaders and great storytellers; they we able to turn all that fear and anger and grief into narratives that others could delight in and learn from, and they used the skills they had learned in battle to protect their homeland. They were fortified by what had happened to them, they wore it like armor and used it to their advantage.

It is our trauma that turns us into guardians, my mother told me, it is suffering that strengthens our skin and softens our hearts, and if we learn to live with the ghosts of what had been done to us, we just may be able to save others from the same fate.

S.T.Gibson (via sarahtaylorgibson)

(via seananmcguire)

4,448 notes

mortisia:

Morticia A. Addams is the fictional matriarch of “The Addams Family”, created by cartoonist Charles Addams and based on his first wife Barbara (who became the second wife of John Hersey, a colleague at The New Yorker and the author of Hiroshima). Morticia is the wife of Gomez Addams and mother of Wednesday Addams, Pugsley Addams and Pubert Addams. The character originated in the Charles Addams cartoons for The New Yorker magazine in the 1930s. Charles Addams gave her the name “Morticia”, implying “death” (derived from “mors mortis”, the Latin word for “death”, and perhaps also from “mortician”). Morticia’s maiden name is “Frump” and she has an older sister named Ophelia (also played by Carolyn Jones). Morticia is described as a vamp; she is slim, with extremely pale skin and long flowing straight black hair. She commonly wears black gothic dresses to match her hair, tightly form fitting, with a hobble skirt. 

"The real head of the family … low-voiced, incisive and subtle, smiles are rare…ruined beauty … contemptuous and original and with fierce family loyalty … even in disposition, muted, witty, sometimes deadly … given to low-keyed rhapsodies about her garden of deadly nightshade, henbane and dwarf’s hair …" — Charles Addams

171 notes

1,838 Plays

it8bit:

NEStalgia: Tiny Toon Adventures 

Track: Stage Theme #1

[Game Wiki]

I’m kinda a tiny bit ashamed to admit, I used to play this game all the time with my ex-husband.  I even had the dang music in my sleep!

26,766 notes

Depression is such a cruel punishment. There are no fevers, no rashes, no blood tests to send people scurrying in concern. Just the slow erosion of the self, as insidious as any cancer. And, like cancer, it is essentially a solitary experience. A room in hell with only your name on the door.
Unknown (via noirdunuit)

(Source: earthtojea, via seananmcguire)