You know what I hate? When people get pissed off when you tell them you don’t want them to touch you. Like excuse me, I don’t actually want you to touch my arm. I don’t want a hug right now. I don’t give a shit if you’re family. I don’t care if the phrase “I don’t want to be touched” puts you off. Just don’t fucking touch me.
having anxiety and depression is like being scared and tired at the same time. it’s the fear of failure but no urge to be productive, and it’s wanting friends while hating socializing. it’s like running a marathon with the willpower of a corpse because you want to get to the end but you also want to sleep and evaporate into the soil and become compost for snails and flowers because then at least you’re useful