The Latest

Yesterday, I spent 60 dollars on groceries,
took the bus home,
carried both bags with two good arms back to my studio apartment
and cooked myself dinner.
You and I may have different definitions of a good day.
This week, I paid my rent and my credit card bill,
worked 60 hours between my two jobs,
only saw the sun on my cigarette breaks
and slept like a rock.
Flossed in the morning,
locked my door,
and remembered to buy eggs.
My mother is proud of me.
It is not the kind of pride she brags about at the golf course.
She doesn’t combat topics like, ”My daughter got into Yale”
with, “Oh yeah, my daughter remembered to buy eggs”
But she is proud.
See, she remembers what came before this.
The weeks where I forgot how to use my muscles,
how I would stay as silent as a thick fog for weeks.
She thought each phone call from an unknown number was the notice of my suicide.
These were the bad days.
My life was a gift that I wanted to return.
My head was a house of leaking faucets and burnt-out lightbulbs.
Depression, is a good lover.
So attentive; has this innate way of making everything about you.
And it is easy to forget that your bedroom is not the world,
That the dark shadows your pain casts is not mood-lighting.
It is easier to stay in this abusive relationship than fix the problems it has created.
Today, I slept in until 10,
cleaned every dish I own,
fought with the bank,
took care of paperwork.
You and I might have different definitions of adulthood.
I don’t work for salary, I didn’t graduate from college,
but I don’t speak for others anymore,
and I don’t regret anything I can’t genuinely apologize for.
And my mother is proud of me.
I burned down a house of depression,
I painted over murals of greyscale,
and it was hard to rewrite my life into one I wanted to live
But today, I want to live.
I didn’t salivate over sharp knives,
or envy the boy who tossed himself off the Brooklyn bridge.
I just cleaned my bathroom,
did the laundry,
called my brother.
Told him, “it was a good day.
Kait Rokowski (A Good Day)

(via sparklekittys)

Oct 20, 2014 / 216,581 notes
Oct 20, 2014 / 12,246 notes
We are not meant to stay wounded. We are supposed to move through our tragedies and challenges and to help each other move through the many painful episodes of our lives. By remaining stuck in the power of our wounds, we block our own transformation. We overlook the greater gifts inherent in our wounds — the strength to overcome them and the lessons that we are meant to receive through them. Wounds are the means through which we enter the hearts of other people. They are meant to teach us to become compassionate and wise.
Caroline Myss (via onlinecounsellingcollege)

(via innatelymagical)

Oct 20, 2014 / 6,878 notes
Oct 19, 2014 / 359,423 notes
If you don’t like where you are, move on. You are not a tree.
Unknown   (via slutstatus)

(via raeraenjma)

Oct 19, 2014 / 269,865 notes
Oct 19, 2014 / 1,455 notes
Oct 18, 2014 / 322 notes

The Elements of “Good Therapy”


  • Nonpathologizing
    Not viewing the “problems” as the whole person.
  • Empowering
  • Collaborative
  • Focus
  • Self
  • Relationship
  • Depth
  • Good Therapy Is Imperfect
  • Sometimes We Can’t Help
    Therapists should understand that while they will never give up on a person, they may not always be the right person to help a certain individual.


(via recoveryisbeautiful)

Oct 18, 2014 / 153 notes
Oct 18, 2014 / 40 notes


Oct 17, 2014 / 41 notes