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#TW Possible suicide
brokenfoxproductions · 10 months
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The world has lost another beautiful soul. Rest in the arms of Allah, Sinead.
((also anyone who may be sensitive to self-harm topics please be aware that there are rumors though nothing has been confirmed yet that Sinead O'Connor may have passed away at her own hand.
I cannot confirm whether or not this is true because I have no connection to the case but I do know that her son took his own life last year and she has been reported to be very upset and depressed ever since because they were very close.
If we end up finding out that Sinead O'Connor did take her own life I would like to remind people that she did suffer with bipolar disorder, borderline personality disorder and complex PTSD as well as several physical health issues including endometriosis.
As someone who deals with several of these conditions myself I know personally that struggling with these things can be very hard on your mental health but recovery is always possible.
If you feel as though you have been suffering from any of the hardships that Sinead O'Connor has been suffering from I very much suggest and encourage you to seek help because the future is always bright and help is always available. it's always really heartbreaking whenever a celebrity passes away especially whenever it's implied to be due to their own hand or due to addiction, and I'm sure that a lot of people are probably going to be affected by this because of how wonderful her music is and how many people it's touched, but I would like to remind all fans and anyone who may be reading this that it does get better and it is worth it to keep going.))
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sunnibits · 2 months
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(guy who has been hyperfixated on izzy hands for two years voice) hey guys you may not have known this but I actually really love izzy hands
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taradactylus · 11 days
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Been off from tumblr a bit but I just wanna share my general thoughts about TSAMS, especially today's episode...
‼️Quick warning for suicide and self harm mention‼️
I feel betrayed. I legit cried. Out of embarassment, betrayal, and pure but well-reserved anger.
I'm not going to be quiet about how to show handled Sun's problem. Not one fucking media type ever dares to normally bring up suicidal problems, the people who suffer from this, the amount of kids and adults who DIE from such thoughts. This isn't about the overly edgy teenagers who want to normalize cutting yourself is okey and cool. This is about the people who suffered for months and years with such conditions while the world made fun of them or ignored their calls for help. Ignored the signs.
USA doesn't have much of a public transport where the show is going on. But here we do. And a lot of trains are late every day. Late for hours because of "mechanical issues". 8 out of 10 times the mechanical issue is a local kid who jumped front of the train. A teenager fed up with life. An adult who lost their way. An ederly too impatient for death.
I have waited months. Months. To see how Sun deals with it. A character I fell in love with not in a romantic sense, a character who shared way too many of my own problems from hallucinations from abuse till betrayal. A character who was pushed and pulled their entire life around people who slapped you then said they love you. I wanted to see how he heals out from it.
The signs were there. Everywhere. Sun said it out loud once that he at least fantasized about death. EVEN OLD MOON KNEW ABOUT THIS! He literally told New Moon Sun would be capable of doing it.
So why... why through Miku, the character used as the "weird fandom girl" symbol do they bring up such a delicate topic? A topic that is not delicate because you have to tip toe around the people who live with self destructive thoughts day and night, but delicate because it matters to be properly heard out AND NO ONE LISTENS!
Not one fucking media listens. A lot of us out there rely on fandoms. Stories we can escape to because the world never listens. And call me a self-projector all you want dear creators or whoever writes the story, but you either just pulled the cheapest and most dumbest way to close off a story line with solving Sun's problems off-screen, or you just legit don't give a fuck about people who "self-projected".
Honestly, what if I did? What if in a sense, I saw myself in Sun? A Sunshine of a character ruined and changed by the things that happened to him. Am I not allowed to relate to him? Am I an annoying "fan-girl" for caring about how he heals because I myself have no idea how to do it either? Or am I like Miku for hoping someone calls out on his behaviour because that's something I've wanted my entire life and never got?
And here I am, still somehow hoping Sun is lying. That he is in denial. That there is more to what was shown... but honestly? How long should I wait and hope while the character I started to like is now becoming a bit too toxic?
And with all due respect, I'm taking this episode personally. The creators watch the fandom. Probably have their secret accounts to see what the people theorize. And if Sun is not lying, and suicide is an annoying topic and we are self-projecting too much onto Sun, with all due respect, dear creators... grow the fuck up and educate yourself.
I don't need the world to pity my ass for having self-harming habits, wishing to die and even attempted suicide before (I'm getting my ass to therapy in the meantime so do not worry about me), but all I want from content creators to fucking educate themselfes before bringing up such topics. TO CARE A BIT MAYBE?!
I have survived my worst times, but not everyone does (it's not about who is weaker or stronger, only utter guilt held me back, without that I'd be long gone), andI want for those who has no help feel like they're heard and seen. Cause literally that's all itt takes sometimes to maybe save someone's life.
So yeah. I'm utterly disappointed in this episode. Not because I want the world to know that I'm suicidal and everyone should tip toe around me and "omg pls give me attention" ect ect ect...
Im disappointed because I had hopes for TSAMS to maybe, maybe be an example and bring this topic up normally for a change. But well... here goes my hope for an educational approach of suicide and self harm in a popular show.
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thehauntedmarionnette · 4 months
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Was recently reading a meta about bkdk antis (link here) and I have learned something from them. I was unaware of this before but Kohei Horikoshi is in fact a Middle Aged, Cisgender, Straight, Japanese Man. It is as sincerely as possible I must inform you fellow bkdks, but we are incapable of getting empathy from, or even being visible to him. Despite our best efforts of always wearing high-vis pride flags, we are in fact unable to be seen on the light spectrum his eyes can absorb. We simply do not co-exist in his universe. Naturally, due to now being enlightened in this way I look back on my reprehensible actions of appreciating a story and intepreting it in my own way with copious amounts of shame, and will be following the advice of the sane logical people and kms.
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sorceresssiren · 2 months
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day #387987529837 of begging the gods to make everyone forget who i am so i dont have to stay alive for them and just go off and die peacefully like seriously i was built for running in the woods with Artemis not this capitalist bullshit
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heartbeatbookclub · 1 month
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tbf i don't think there's a single therapist on the planet that could help monika with. all that.
there are not enough words in the english language to properly articulate how completely and totally and utterly fucked her situation is. each and every individual piece of it would require a team of 6 therapists on their own. if she went to therapy for her mother-of-all-existential-crises she would need a good several hundred at bare minimum and i feel like at that point it becomes too many cooks in the kitchen y'know
I was referring to Side Story Monika, but I think in the case of Base Game Monika, it's unlikely that a therapist would be able to "fix" her, but it couldn't hurt. In her case I'd say her existential crisis is warranted, though she could certainly be coping better.
Though I don't think she'd agree with that....uh, my thoughts re:Coil. I do think that in both cases it's a showcase of her stubbornness, though. In the Side Stories, she'd assume she can just deal with her problems and be fine. In the Base Game, she assumes she can just solve all of her own problems via her abilities, and when that fails, her answer is to burn it all down instead.
More than anything, her responses to these things seem to revolve around control, which is a big part of why I think she'd be resistant to the idea of therapy (it takes a great deal of vulnerability to do, and requires you to relinquish some element of control over yourself).
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midnight-in-town · 1 year
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what do you think of the theory that Vincent is a death god now?
Hey Anon! Well, I used to be pretty against it, but nowadays I think it all depends on what we currently know about Shinigamis, which is to say not much.
What I mean is that, in ch105, Yana revealed that Shinigamis are former humans who killed themselves...
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...however, we do not know if that's the only way for a human to become a Shinigami.
Remember, Yana could hold onto some additional truth that we have yet to figure out, especially considering that since ch105, Sensei strongly hinted several times that the Shinigamis' higher ups are super sketchy. [x][x][x]
In other words, there is possibly a real gap between what Shinigamis themselves believe to be the truth whereas the actual truth is hidden by the higher-ups.
Additionally, that's just my opinion but, seeing as UT (and the possible other deserters he works with) is very anti higher-ups, I wonder if editing the records (to make dead people into BD) is not an idea he got from finding out some truths about Shinigamis, which led to his desertion. [x]
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For example, maybe all Shinigamis had their records altered in order to become Shinigamis ? And if that's the case, then maybe some altered memories (read: lies) were put to their records, making them all believe that they're overworked slaves "because of suicide" when none of it is true? Just like the redemption reward is also probably a lie.
All that to say that I believe UT's BD project is a hint to a big and terrible truth that we have yet to fully grasp (take it as a rebellion towards the Shinigamis' higher-ups, on top of UT missing the dead Phantomhives) so, for now, I think it's important to be very careful about the "truth" we were told about the Shinigami Organization.
Back to Vincent: for now, I believe that he was definitely murdered.
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Meaning that if suicide is really the only way for a man to become a Shinigami, then he did not become a Shinigami. However, if becoming a Shinigami is not just about suicide, but about several other factors, then it's not impossible that Vincent became a Shinigami after he died. ¯\_(ツ)_/¯
In my opinion, Yana-sensei made sure not to rule out the possibility in canon, as in, she left a few hints that could be red herrings, just like they could be used to interpret that Vincent is not really "dead". Those hints are
1) ch107.5, because, even though he's supposedly dead, he wears gloves and a suit that could resemble that of a Shinigami's.
Additionally, even if the rosette power thing was just for comical effect, it's interesting that he showed up at all even though UT said he cannot be brought back as a bizarre doll.
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2) the state of his body, that UT mentions in ch105.
After all, if it's burnt so badly, that means his cinematic record can't be read and thus altered to turn him into a BD, so how certain are we that they buried Vincent's body?
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3) the fact that he constantly breaks the 4th wall despite "being dead" (ch107.5, short story "with Father", etc), which so far has no explanation in canon.
All of these could be nothing important, because Yana's simply playing around with us, just like they could be significant on some aspects.
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The point is : the more the story goes, the less we have a reason to believe that what Sascha explained in ch105 is entirely true. Not with UT and possibly other deserters actively working against the higher-ups, without a real explanation from their side so far.
TL;DR the possibility of Vincent having become a Shinigami can't be entirely ruled out and won't be, until we have found out the entire truth about the Shinigami Organization.
Is the key to their fate really suicide ? Or are there other actions in life that will turn someone into a Shinigami post mortem? Until a deserter, UT or somebody else, tells their version of the truth, I will not trust the information we've had in canon so far about Shinigamis.
(Personally I'd rather he's truly and definitely dead, but if him becoming a Shinigami furthers the very important plot thread of the Shinigamis' higher ups being absolute assholes who need to be taken down, then I'll be okay with it.)
Sorry if it's a bit confusing, but there's no way to be sure of anything on that topic. Have a good day Anon!
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puppyeared · 11 months
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How'd Augusta end up being radioactive? :o
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A second chance.
// suicidal themes below
Augusta originally worked as a part time astronaut at a Star Depot, which collected star Fragments and sent them back to earth to be used as fuel similar to nuclear power.
Augusta wasn’t really in a good place at the time while working there. She never had any kind of big ambition in life and wanted to live life peacefully, but knew that “getting by” isn’t enough for her to survive. People around her kept expecting so much of her that she didn’t know what to tell them.
Working as an astronaut helps take her mind off things at first, but then she starts to feel worse. She doesn’t get invited out to things, but she doesn’t really make any effort to try, and relatives are asking how she’s doing and she doesn’t know what to tell them without it turning into a lecture. and over time it piles up
First she starts asking for more shifts handling and shipping the stars. Then she asks to do overtime. And finally one day she finds a tiny Fragment on the floor.
The thing about Fragments is that they change your body and can make you very sick if youre near them for too long.
Tomorrow would be a holiday and the building would be closed. The Shift manager, who promised to close up, left early for drinks with coworkers. So she was the only employee working.
So she picks up the star and swallows it expecting to die. But instead her hair turns pink and the dust around her floats, and when she breathes no air comes out. The Star fused to her body and latched to her heart.
Basically, her suicide attempt gave her her own way to live and pink hair as a bonus lol
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Here’s what her hair looked like before and after The Incident <3
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rowiewritesstuff · 24 days
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TW: SENSITIVE SU*C*DE TOPICS
Read at your own discretion.
So another idea I've had is there is a psychic/seer reader who can't handle that they have schizophrenia. Whenever they touch something or someone they may see glimpses of odd things, and they try to ignore it because, well, it's all in their head according to their doctor (including seeing curses).
One day they are on a bridge about to jump when Gojo stops them. Gojo all but kidnaps them to his house since they were kicked out by their parents for being "crazy" and after becoming an adult they couldnt get work
Gojo convinces reader to tell him about it ans Gojo explains it's a cursed technique (or so he thinks).
Reader joins Jujutsu High (As a staff member for cooking or cleaning) and learns about their power- catching the attention of many. Being a psychic is a powerful tool- if only they could get their hands on you.
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hells-plaid-angel · 3 months
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Dean had expected it to hurt. He'd expected it to be something cruel and invasive. He was ready for a knife-slicing skin-from-bone kind of sensation. He'd lived a life where pain was familiar. What he hadn't expected was for it to feel so painless. No. Not just painless. It felt as though he were being held by the universe. Incomprehensible.
He was getting ahead of himself. Context mattered.
His thoughts flowed in odd directions. Maybe that was the way things were going to be from now on. Were the thoughts his own? It was quiet. He hadn't expected it to be quiet.
There was no sound of breathing from the two dead bodies and no cars for miles. He'd even lost the familiar static hum that'd accompanied pure silence since he was in his mid-twenties. Blame the loud music. Blame the gunfire. Blame God. Dean had.
If he focused, he could hear the wind through the dry grass. The world hadn't stopped turning. Not yet. Something had happened.
He needed to stay on track. What the hell had happened?
Dean Winchester's life had the habit of changing in the blink of an eye. They were on a hunt in Nebraska, looking for a lady in white. Men had gone missing along the highways, only to show up hundreds of miles away dehydrated, dying and raving about a disappearing woman. Simple open-and-shut case, right?
If Sammy had been there, maybe he would have picked up that something was a miss. He'd probably tell Dean not to be so goddamn cocksure about everything. He'd have been right.
Sam wasn't there. Sam was on a hunt with Eileen, which left Cas and Dean. Hell, Cas should've known the pieces weren't adding up, but they'd both been distracted.
Dean definitely goddamn knew better.
The whole mess was his fault. Always was. Living with Dean gave you the kind of luck people got when they lost a lucky rabbit's foot. His existence was a bad omen and he kept making it Cas' problem.
They'd packed their guns full of rock salt, ready to dig up some bones and get the show on the road when they'd realised how badly they'd misjudged the situation. It wasn't a ghost. It was a goddamn witch.
She'd been using magic to puppet the local men. The poor suckers who didn't pull over to 'help' her would find themselves with the sudden urge to pull over their car and walk Interstate 80 to oblivion.
He hated witches on principle. Of all the ghosts, ghouls and creatures that went bump in the night, witches were where the Winchesters always had the most trouble. The hunt was no exception. He let her get too close. Close enough to slip a hex bag in his pocket.
His mind didn't go blank as he'd expected it might. Instead, it felt as though he'd let go of the Impala's wheel, leaned back and expected the car to drive itself.
His body moved without his permission. Cas was close. Too goddamn close. Cas always had the habit of standing too goddamn close to Dean.
He knew what his body wanted to do, but he couldn't stop it. Dean knew his destiny was to be a puppet to the will of 'God' and the angels, but it wasn't something he let himself linger on. All those in the Winchester family seemed doomed by their own brand of destiny. It didn't do well to dwell. Dean Winchester was not a fatalist.
He felt himself turn on his heels, pull Cas close and fill his chest with rock-salt bullets. Of course, it hadn't worked. Cas was made of stronger stuff than that, but when Dean felt his hand slip into Cas' coat pocket to grab his angel blade, he knew they were screwed to oblivion.
After a lifetime of hunting, Dean had honed the art of quick decision making. In the space of a heartbeat, three things became apparent. They were ambushed. If he didn't do something quickly Cas was going to die. He wouldn't survive the angels' death.
He'd known it in the primal part of his brain that knew to fear strange shadows in the dark. Cas' death, the eternal sleep, would see Dean tugging at his coattails because his death had always been a slow-acting poison to the eldest Winchester boy.
The angel always managed to return from the dead before death had its hooks in Dean, but he knew without Cas he'd last a year. He wasn't his father, who'd lived over two decades while poisoned and rotting with the loss of his mother. In the end, he'd become more rage than man. Like the ghosts they'd hunted, John had been left with nothing save the burning need for revenge.
In the safety of his own mind, Dean would admit he was made of softer stuff than his father. He wouldn't cling to life by the skin of his teeth. He'd rather bite a bullet and save everyone the trouble. But Cas wasn't dead yet. There was still time.
Dean thought quickly, his mind was struck with a startling sense of clarity and certainty he'd never before felt. He knew of a way to save Cas. After all, Dean was the perfect vessel for an archangel. Of course, he could save Cas. Maybe not the body of Jimmy Novak, though he would mourn that body in a complicated way he didn't wish to dwell on. Maybe it could be saved. Dean didn't know. The body wasn't important. Cas was what mattered.
Dean hadn't grown up with permanence. Everything in his life was transient. He'd spent his formative years being raised like the dead in haunted cemeteries, like God's son for the slaughter. He knew the one constant in his life was change.
But that wasn't entirely true. Another thing had been a constant. His body, beaten and broken as it was, had stayed the course throughout his life. It had aged and changed but Dean could count on it to hold strong. It was the one thing he could almost call his. But he couldn't stop it from moving with the witches' will. If he didn't stop it, Cas would die. Cas wouldn't stop Dean from killing him.
Dean knew Cas almost as well as he knew himself. He couldn't stop his hand, but he could clench and unclench his jaw. The witch was focused on hurting Cas. The classic rules for pickpockets and street magicians held true. If she was busy looking in one direction, that meant she'd left herself open.
If it were anyone else, he wouldn't offer it, couldn't offer it. But it was Cas. Cas was an exception to so many of Dean's rules.
"Cas," Dean choked through gritted teeth in the breath before the angel blade found a new home between his friend's ribs.
"Castiel, come in."
Dean watched as a flicker of reluctant knowing crossed Cas' face. The angel knew what Dean meant. Of course he did. Cas knew Dean better than Dean knew himself.
For the horror of a heartbeat, Dean thought Cas was going to say no. Instead, the world exploded in heat and light. It was like being engulfed by the sun, yet instead of burning alive, he felt warm, swallowed by light. It was like being held by the universe. Of course. Dean remembered what had happened.
All was silent. Both Cas' body and the witch lay slumped over the side of the road. The woman's body was riddled with witch-killing bullets. It was only then Dean's eyes shifted to the gun in his hand. He couldn't recall getting them from the trunk of the Impala. Then again, maybe he hadn't.
"Cas?" Dean breathed life into the silence.
"Hello, Dean."
The voice that replied felt as though it came from the base of Dean's skull. It was as though someone was grinding dry gravel against his eardrums. The voice was both apart from him and a part of him.
The body of Jimmy Novak lay dead and unmoving in the dirt. Yet he'd heard Cas' voice clear.
Dean watched as his left hand rested on his right forearm, unbidden.
"I'm here. I'm sorry," Cas' deep timbre rattled.
Dean was overcome with a sense of deep sorrow and regret. He felt wrong in his body, but the way the sensation hit was unfamiliar to him. They weren't Dean's emotions, they were Cas'.
If he were being honest, Dean hadn't expected to have any control of his body. He'd expected to be shoved below the surface of his consciousness for as long as Cas needed to walk around in his meat suit. He hadn't spared a thought for how the whole 'vessel of an angel of God' thing worked, considering he'd spent his life running from the possibility of it. He couldn't help but think Cas was giving him a longer leash than Micheal would.
"Don't be. I'd rather this than the alternative. Let's just get your body in the car, drive back to the bunker and work out what the hell we do from here." This was his mess. He'd clean it up.
"Dean. I believe you're being unnecessarily hard on yourself," Cas chastised, causing Dean to still. How did Cas — shit. This sharing-a-body thing was going to screw him over big time.
"Cas, do me a favour. If you're going to be playing house in my body, quit reading my mind," Dean mumbled, bending over to pick the body up from the dirt.
He was careful with the angel's old vessel, scooping it carefully into his arms and cradling it to his chest until he could prop him up in the Impala's back seat. He fixed the guy's stupid goddamn tie while he was at it and felt a twinge of... what? Fondness. It was an ache so deep Dean felt it in his marrow.
God in hell. Dean had never felt something quite like that. He'd been under the impression that Cas, along with the other angels, wasn't able to feel the same way humans did, but that odd ache made him want to drive himself off a bridge. How could Cas stand that? What the hell was that?
"I apologise. I'm trying to keep a barrier between us, but... it's difficult." Cas wasn't just feeling his emotions, he was feeling Cas' as well.
Dean needed to separate them quickly, but to do that he'd need to make sure Cas could get back to his old body. His eyes flickered to the spreading inkwell of blood seeping through the body's white shirt. That was how Dean had to think of it. It was 'the body' not Cas' body. Cas wasn't dead. Cas was with him. He felt the familiar spread of warmth in his chest. He shook thoughts of death from his mind and climbed into the driver's seat.
"As the driver, does this mean I get to choose the music?" Cas asked, rattling a laugh free from Dean's chest.
"Nice try, Cas. I'm still driving. You just sit back and look pretty."
"As I'm in your vessel, it won't be a hard task," Cas rebuked, and Dean knew in his gut the angel was entirely serious.
They were so screwed.
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hopeymchope · 3 months
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I am INCREDIBLY disturbed by the amount of people I see championing the horrifying act of suicide that recently occured outside the Israeli embassy in Washington D.C.
There are people acting as though this should be celebrated and remembered, claiming it's a valuable "sacrifice." Like it's "heroic" — as if this guy (whom I will not be naming here) was standing in a war zone and shielding Palestinian children from IDF bullets or something. As if he was hurting ANYONE who is party to the atrocities he's protesting. Even much-depised suicide bombers accomplish more with their terrorism than this act ever will.
There is NO value in suicide. There is only mental illness, abject horror, and everlasting trauma. There is only the anguish and eternal torment of everyone who ever cared about you, everyone who bore witness to what you did. To celebrate and champion this? Is a selfish, malicious act — one that will cruelly damage many people who need love and support. One that could definitely encourage similar, senseless deaths.
In fact, that is ABSOLUTELY happening. Because of this I am literally seeing people on this very site who are openly considering suicide and openly being encouraged by others to do it. Which is sick shit.
But very, VERY importantly? It actively hurts the cause it claims to be drawing attention to. Because it makes the protesting side look insane and unhinged. With his horrifically awful act, this man brutally undermined the thing he claimed to care so much about. And beyond that? His act of protest did nothing but EXPAND and EXTEND the reach of the horrific violence he claimed to be against. The result is akin to watching someone "protest" what's being done to the children of Gaza by shooting a random baby in the fucking head on the streets of Albuquerque.
What do you think you did? What do you think you accomplished? You spread violence, you scarred everyone around you, you horrified and devastated everyone you know, and you made your side of the argument look awful. THAT'S your impact. THAT'S the attention and message you spread.
But then, that's what this level of depression and mental illness does to a person, isn't it? You lose sight of your own value, you are unable to comprehend what you're doing, and you ultimately do nothing but destroy yourself unless you can get the help you need/deserve. And that's pretty scary. I've been there before. I even had some of these urges before — to unalive myself "for a cause." But I'm SO glad I came out the other side of it. What a waste that would've been. What damage I would've done to everyone I know.
This is a horrible tragedy... and perhaps the saddest part of it is how little it will even matter. People will remember what's currently happening in Gaza for decades, maybe centuries to come. But this act? No one will remember this except, perhaps, as a piece of disturbing trivia. "Can you fucking believe this psycho?" THAT'S the only legacy of this that will ever, EVER matter outside of this poor man's family.
I wish I had some idea of what COULD make a difference in Gaza. It feels pretty helpless to be this far from where all that horror is unfolding on the Palestinians who live there.
If you love this act? If you think it's valuable and/or admirable? I am begging you to reassess your thought processes. If you claim you want to protect innocent lives? Remember that that doesn't just mean the lives that are abroad, and it doesn't just mean protecting the neurotypical. It means valuing and protecting the lives of yourself and those around you, too. Including neurodivergent people who're struggling.
Value lives by valuing your own. Fight violence by not committing violence. Combat horror by not spreading horror. Show love and care for others by caring about how your actions will impact everyone you know.
And if you feel like this kind of act is a good idea for you? There's help. There's ALWAYS other options. And there's ALWAYS a better way out — even if it may seem like there isn't.
I realize people sometimes think they have no other escape. But if you're willing to consider escaping by completely giving up on ever living, then you damn well have to consider every possible alternative first. Cutting off your family, running away, starting from absolute scratch; anything else is better.
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autistic-katara · 8 months
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i’m 2 seconds away from writing him a love letter and killing myself
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sirserpentine · 2 months
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On Pentious' backstory.
//Hi lovelies! I've been thinking and developing Pentious for a short while now, and while I will likely accept whatever canon history we'll get for him in the future, I have a few current POSSIBLE ideas for what may have led him to Hell in life. This is one of such possibilities:
Short version: Pentious was a rich inventor in Victorian England. He served portions of time as an engineer in the army, working in the British Empire's colonies in Africa and Asia. (Hardcore colonialist. Very nasty, as they were.)
He had an amicable relationship with his wife who had been chosen by his parents. They wanted to have children very badly, but suffered from infertility for years with no improvement. Pentious grew bitter over his work overseas as well as depressed and hot-tempered from his repeated grief and disappointment when his family wouldn't grow.
Eventually, desperate Pentious decided to research dark magic and ask for the help from demons, as angels wouldn't answer his prayers. A deal was offered by a demon he managed to summon, a potion that would guarantee healthy children to its drinker. The catch? Pentious would automatically descend into Hell upon death. When promised his wife and future children would be safe from such a fate, Pentious took the leap and drank the potion at once.
But coming home that day, nobody answered his calls.
What followed was a grief-induced rampage, a desperate attempt to create an antidote, a bitter attempt to create poison, plans of calamity, plans to burn down the world that had forsaken him, toxic fumes spilling over his body by accident, red, red marks all over his skin, a study that burnt down in flames.
And a snake who entered Hell alone.
In detail:
He was born into a rich, aristocratic family in the late 1840s and had the privilege to study to his heart's content in London, his busy birth town. Being an engineer or an inventor was something he wanted to do since he was very young and his family accepted this, though a bit reluctantly. Following a degree in the university, he was engaged and married to a bride of his family's preference but didn't hate or outwardly disagree with the arrangement.
He and his gentle wife found common ground when it came to the enjoyment of music, art and the scoffed-upon, silly preference to usher house-intruding rats and mice outside without excessive violence. They also doted on all the children of their friends and relatives and eventually desired a big family of their own.
With no upcoming patent for an invention in sight, young Pentious instead found a job as an engineer for the army and travelled to the empire's faraway colonies in India and Africa to oversee and assist in the construction of windmills, vehicles and the maintenance of weaponry. Pentious received elementary level soldier training at this point and for the first time learned how to hold a firearm. He also got to enjoy the life in a true colonizer fashion; feel a false sense of superiority towards those their troops supervised and bossed around, eat exotic treats and send gifts back to his wife. Snakeskin purses, spices, jewellery, everything that could be ripped from their place of origin. He paid money for them, surely it couldn't count as stealing? They made his wife so happy, surely he wasn't greedy for hogging so much? He was a Britt, a civilised chap, certainly he was deserving of his share?
Though the reunion at home after his travels was a warm one, Pentious and his wife grew agitated when they weren't blessed with children after years of trying. They did their best, employing each home remedy, prayer and doctor's order they could afford, but the situation never improved. Pentious had to leave for more job contracts to fulfil and each time he returned to his grieving wife and empty nursery, the less he resembled the man he had been in the past. The idealistic, kind gentleman had become entitled and stressed, his smiles had turned into frowns, his passions into a hot temper.
And when he started shooting at the intruding rodents that disturbed his precious work in the study or tea in the parlour, his wife grew even more concerned. And when she mentioned this and all he could offer as consolation and apology was a concoction of rat poison to get rid of the problem instead, she wasn't sure if she even knew him anymore.
Pentious grew desperate enough to turn to dark magic to have his dreams come true. If Angels wouldn't listen to his wails, maybe demons would? Though doubting it would work until the very end, Pentious managed to summon a demon who offered him a deal; A potion that, once consumed, would guarantee him the conception and birth of healthy children. The catch? He would automatically descend into Hell at the moment of his death.
When promised his wife and future children would be spared from such a fate, Pentious wasted no time in swigging down the potion. Despite the prize he knew he would be paying, he felt more lighthearted than ever as he ran back home, desperate to tell his wife they could still try, they could fix things up, there was still time.
But once he was home, all that greeted him was silence.
The vial of rat poison was empty.
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just reiterating bc it may be relevant at some point that if I abruptly disappear with no explanation at any point just assume I ended up in the psych ward somehow. if tis that I've finally killed myself I believe that yall will know, at least at some not-too-distant time. so don't worry. <3
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ouchhq · 5 months
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am i so hard to care about?
#i need to vent and i know u guys cant stand me because i can feel it (and certainly from the anon hate) but i think im gonna have an ulcer#if i dont put this out somewhere#SH s*icide tw !!!!!#i need some advice or opinions because i feel like im losing it#i dont understand why my friends cant care about me#i know !!! i know i seem out of touch and insane because i say this so often and the question to someone reading would come natural: maybe#it is just ur perception…. maybe u suck ass as a friend too#and i do ponder about that!!!!!! i take those possibilities into consideration i do. and i genuinely dont think i suck as a friend. i always#check in. if they seem off i ask how they feel. i ask updates on their stuff. i dont think i deserve this tbh#but especially when i am struggling they just disappear#like even when i reach out and let them know im doing bad. they clearly read my measages and choose to ignore them#these are supposed to be my best friends#these days ive been so bad. and trigger warning again#i just feel so suicidal and i have been hurting myself in the desperate attempt to cope and manage these thoughts#and i dont tell them these things#i dont share the details because 1) it is too much to dump on someone and 2) they dont show any interest even on the surface level of my#problems so i just wouldnt tell them the deeper issues#i am just in so much pain. and i also feel a lot of anger because of their behavior. i feel so so hurt by it. so many years of this going on#of them just not even acknowledging my struggles while i was in the midst of them and trying still to support them and be there for e#whatever they had going on. and getting nothing in return#i hate that i feel so angry but i do. and ive been swallowing this anger and pain for so long i feel it eating my insides#even my therapist doesnt understand why i am friends with people that dont care about me#i dont know what i should do#i want to say something#actually i already talked about this to one of them one year ago exactly and i told her all these things and she just said she didnt know#why i was ignored. and then still kept being a part of it#the thing is i am so upset and my mental health is so so so bad. i am supposed to spend new years eve with them in two days but i dont know#how i can do that feeling like this#but if i speak to them about it i think it will also ruin the mood#if someone has any thoughts or advice it would be very welcome….
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lucyvaleheart · 3 months
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#so first of all I'm fine.#second of all I don't know if that's a lie or not but like. by some stretch it's gotta be true#so it doesn't count as a lie to my code of honor.#anyway. I keep fucking losing it y'all#I.... even now on depression medication I'm still breaking down what feels like fucking daily#it's just in different ways#crying harder than I have in a while and feeling more panicked about than like I'm releasing emotion#it's more distant but for some reason it's. easier to conceptualize uh#....tw here for like self harm and suicidal thoughts don't read the rest of these if you don't wanna see that#some reason it's easier to conceptualize the idea of. cutting myself? it never felt like a possibility before#id think about it and know I'd never do it. but. now....#.....i can't help but find myself wondering if it *would* feel good. to hurt. to see my own blood#........there are so many people who's lives I've touched that would be saddened if I were gone but#it's.....harder to use that to ground myself. to pull myself away from the thoughts of just......#..........stopping#ending everything. i dunno. fuck.#....a few weeks ago I found myself wanting to roll out of the moving car and could feel myself able to#reach for the seatbelt buckle and the door handle#........im not okay and honestly I don't know if I care#sometimes I do but when I feel like this it feels impossible TO care#it feels so distant. i feel so distant. I feel so nothing and so bad at the same time#i feel so fucking ugly#so much self hatred rearing it's head where I thought I'd gotten past it#i have a therapy appointment at the end of March and I'm not sure if that's soon enough.
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