“Money can’t buy you happiness” is propaganda from rich people to convince the poor to be satisfied with less.
Delicious, finally some good fucking food.
they’ve actually studied this, and there is a measurable point up to which money basically does buy happiness, and then past that point it stops
a billionaire is not guaranteed to be any happier than a millionaire, but both those people are almost guaranteed to be happier than someone living in poverty
(the “point” turns out to be “the time at which you have enough money that all your needs can be met without anxiety and you have some amount of money left over to do things like pursue passions, give back to the community, and do other emotionally fulfilling things.” what a shocker!)
(Source: reddit.com, via sugarmacaron)
one of the more valuable things I’ve learned in life as a survivor of a mentally unstable parent is that it is likely that no one has thought through it as much as you have.
no, your friend probably has not noticed they cut you off four times in this conversation.
no, your brother didn’t realize his music was that loud while you were studying.
no, your bff or S.O. doesn’t remember that you’re on a tight deadline right now.
no, no one else is paying attention to the four power dynamics at play in your friend group right now.
a habit of abused kids, especially kids with unstable parents, is the tendency to notice every little detail. We magnify small nuances into major things, largely because small nuances quickly became breaking points for parents. Managing moods, reading the room, perceiving danger in the order of words, the shift of body weight….it’s all a natural outgrowth of trying to manage unstable parents from a young age.
Here’s the thing: most people don’t do that. I’m not saying everyone else is oblivious, I’m saying the over analysis of minor nuances is a habit of abuse.
I have a rule: I do not respond to subtext. This includes guilt tripping, silent treatments, passive aggressive behavior, etc. I see it. I notice it. I even sometimes have to analyze it and take a deep breath and CHOOSE not to respond. Because whether it’s really there or just me over-reading things that actually don’t mean anything, the habit of lending credence to the part of me that sees danger in the wrong shift of body weight…that’s toxic for me. And dangerous to my relationships.
The best thing I ever did for myself and my relationships was insist upon frank communication and a categorical denial of subtext. For some people this is a moral stance. For survivors of mentally unstable parents this is a requirement of recovery.
#I thought I was just observant and everyone else was oblivious or didn’t care enough#abuse mention
I’d like to add a thing inspired by these tags: people care. They all care. They care so much. That feeling is SUCH a common one among survivors of mentally ill parents and abuse survivors. We think people don’t care, that not noticing is a product of not caring because we have been trained in the toxic habit of measuring our worth by how well we manage others. And we imagine that everyone operates that way.
Other people don’t measure their caring that way. Your friends and family and loved ones….they care. Even if they don’t notice every tiny detail. They also don’t know how to read that things are not okay by the shift of your weight or a heavier than usual silence. You have to learn to speak it. I know it’s scary. I know it’s hard. But you have to learn to tell people “I am not okay. I need your help.” And sometimes even then they won’t hear that what you are saying is your world is collapsing. They don’t measure “not okay” on the same scale as you do.
But they care. Please know that they care. When it feels like they don’t. When it feels like you have to shout to be heard, when your tiny steps, as monumental as they feel to you, don’t bring you close enough and they ask you to leap farther and it’s terrifying. Know that they do that because they care. Because they WANT to hear you. They WANT to know. They care so much. Don’t let the legacy of your trauma, your abuse, your pain rob you of that knowledge.
Stay strong. Stay soft.
(via lilbroccolithebasedgod)
