crazy

lunatic

depressed

mad

mania

Breighanne

Breighanne

Breighanne

Breighanne

Breighanne

Breighanne

Breighanne

1. first name
2. middle name
3. my second middle name that’s also my mom’s surname
4. my surname
5. their other parent’s surname if there is another parent, i guess.

and how much of the line is dependent on race/sex/class, which I’m really having to think about wrt my lady Byronic hero somedaynovel. how much of the traditional unmarried cantankerous eccentricity wd even a wealthy woman be able to get away with?

YES YES YES.

i actually talked with my prof about this because i was feeling super guilty for having a hard time finding (published, book length) mental illness narratives by working class women or women of color to read for my thesis and so instead i’m making a small but significant chunk of it about how specifically the “madwoman” is embodied differently by middle class, white women historically and how constructions of white middle class femininity line up with or complicate ideas of “madness.”

but anyway.

yeah! i think the whole “bachelor” thing itself is really interesting because ladies (lady ladies) were…not really allowed to have that lifestyle? like—aloneness was not a thing that was as accessible to them as to men, and that’s a huge huge part of how byronic heroes come to be. i’m so excited to see how you work that out!

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oh-rebecca:

EVERYONE HAS TO WATCH THIS RIGHT NOW. EVERYONE. 

i know these things go around every so often that are like THIS IS THE BEST THING TO EXIST IN THE UNIVERSE and sometimes they are and sometimes they aren’t and you’re just like “meh” but seriously. there are tears of delight on my face…which is incredibly relevant.

tl;dr

WATCH THIS NOW

(via thequietworld)

sylviaandherfigtree:

thefeeloffree:

fumblingtowardshappiness:

so-treu:

anxietycat:

(no tumblr)

oh. well.

Oh, hai college.

THIS.

this is why i registered with the center for disabilities at my school, thank you to the counselor who let me know this was an option.

my professors get letters at the beginning of the semester notifying them of my status…i’m not sure what the letters say exactly, but basically i can ask for extensions, extra time on exams, and sometimes i get a note-taker for some classes. 

if this is an option at your school, GO FOR IT. it reduces my stress so much to know that i can contact my professors and tell them i need an extension because i had a rough week and i have the official backing of the disabilities center. 

it’s harder when working with fellow students, though. especially when you’re friends with some of them, it hurts more to think that i’m seen as a lazy liar. but i remind myself that my shit is REAL and i don’t need them to agree with me for it to still be REAL. they can think that i’m taking advantage of my illnesses to cut slack, but THEY DON’T KNOW MY LIFE. 

be your best and most aggressive advocate. take space. it’s yours. you are entitled to it. 

^^ things i wish i’d read in 2005.

my school has a center for disabilities (of course) and i’ve always felt like i wasn’t entitled to it because i scrape along and get good grades despite often skipping class or missing assignments because of anxiety/depression.

which is just another example of why we need to see this as a real disease. as someone who really does try to be her own best advocate…this never occurred to me? or seemed like an option?

it might be worth it, though, even with one and a half quarters left.

like—today i skipped class because of depression/sleep issues. as in i’m falling asleep at 7am most days and that is not really conducive to waking up a couple of hours later and going to school, which requires you to wash your hair and talk to people.

so.

take note, people who are possibly in similar situations.

(via loveyourchaos)

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actually, that’s it. that’s the story.

i need to revise my “about this blog”. (do i even have one of those? i don’t know.)

basically now it’s:

school, crazy ladies, books, school, crazy ladies, my apartment, food, television, my personal experiences of being a crazy lady—mostly in my apartment, while eating food and reading. books.

(i’m sorry. we’ll get back to oil paintings and feminist rants—or whatever this blog used to be—someday. just probably not someday soon.)

okay, i’m revising what i said here about that woman who thinks jesus is helping manage her bipolar… again.

because i realised i am being super super hypocritical by intentionally reading subjective narratives by women with mental illness and then being like WHY ARE SO YOU BEING SO SUBJECTIVE? WHY DON’T YOU THINK OF EVERYONE!?

so.

i’m sorry, universe & readers of this blog. sorry.

it actually is great that she’s writing about how she prayed away her manic depression.

i can be okay with that.

okay.

TW: talk about statutory rape, slut shaming