¿Qué piensa la mujer de 22 años?
When all else fails - bury yourself in images, academia, and fashion.
|outfit game:||on point|
|mental health game:||?????|
dear introverts: the people who disregard your signs of discomfort and proceed to make you miserable by ignoring signals that you want to be left alone are not called extroverts, they are called “obnoxious”. we too understand the mystical phenomenon known as “body language”
me: i have depression
person: *suddenly becomes mental health expert, nutritionist, spiritual guide* why dont u try yoga why dont u eat lots of fruit maybe u should exercise have u tried keeping a journal have u tried yoga have u tried meditation have u tried sitting in the sun have u tried patting a dog have u tried exercise yoga in the fruit sun yoga yoga
These girls aren’t wounded so much as post-wounded, and I see their sisters everywhere. They’re over it. I am not a melodramatic person. God help the woman who is. What I’ll call “post-wounded” isn’t a shift in deep feeling (we understand these women still hurt) but a shift away from wounded affect: These women are aware that “woundedness” is overdone and overrated. They are wary of melodrama, so they stay numb or clever instead. Post-wounded women make jokes about being wounded or get impatient with women who hurt too much. The post-wounded woman conducts herself as if preempting certain accusations: Don’t cry too loud; don’t play victim. Don’t ask for pain meds you don’t need; don’t give those doctors another reason to doubt. Post-wounded women fuck men who don’t love them and then they feel mildly sad about it, or just blasé about it; they refuse to hurt about it or to admit they hurt about it—or else they are endlessly self-aware about it, if they do allow themselves this hurting.
The post-wounded posture is claustrophobic: jadedness, aching gone implicit, sarcasm quick on the heels of anything that might look like self-pity. I see it in female writers and their female narrators, troves of stories about vaguely dissatisfied women who no longer fully own their feelings. Pain is everywhere and nowhere. Post-wounded women know that postures of pain play into limited and outmoded conceptions of womanhood. Their hurt has a new native language spoken in several dialects: sarcastic, jaded, opaque; cool and clever. They guard against those moments when melodrama or self-pity might split their careful seams of intellect, expose the shame of self-absorption without self-awareness.