#being neurodivergent is hard; like what did i do to have to struggle through life like this; it's tiresome | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

gingerylangylang1979 · 7 months

Text

Will Carmy become an addict?... Also, exactly what are his mental health (or other) issues?

This conversation is an offshoot of thoughts expressed here in conversation with @november-rising.

I'll start by saying I do not think Carmy is currently an addict or in recovery from an addiction. But, could Carmy become an addict like his dad (was he an addict or just a heavy abuser, we don't know) Mikey, and Donna? Maybe. Also, I hope nothing I write is offensive to anyone. If anyone thinks there is something I'm missing or misrepresenting please share and we can talk about it. I'm open to learning.

The statistic rates for people impacted by another person's addiction becoming an addict themselves is high. I myself had a drug addict mom and an alcoholic ex. I dabbled in drugs but never became an addict unless you count cigarettes and weed (no longer do either). How me and my brother didn't end up addicts despite our experimentation with hard substances is beyond me. All of the prerequisites were in place and I feel like we almost were tempting it like, come on, I know you want to take me, yet, neither of us ended up addicts.

Sometimes I felt it would make things easier. I think it was Lou Reed, maybe, who said something like addiction made life simple because then you only have one problem to deal with. I wish I only had one problem. I tried stuff as hard as coke, meth, and opium. I was a bartender and partied but never became an alcoholic. My brother went as far as trying heroin a few times. But neither of us became addicts. It's insane if you think about it.

Does that mean we didn't/do participate in fucked up self-destructive behavior? Hell no. Most of my life I have battled with trying to "be normal" all the while self sabotaging all along the way. But I never became an addict.

This is why it's so easy for me to see Carmy in all of his darkness and still see how he isn't necessarily someone doomed to become an addict. Nat didn't become one, me and my brother didn't become ones. I see a lot of us in Nat and Carmy. Carmy is way worse off than Nat, for sure. How, I dunno. And I would say I'm closer to Carmy in the melancholic creative way than my brother. So it's kind of a weird blessing that traumatized people who you would think would become addicts, don't, but it happens.

Could Carmy become one? I think if he continues to not address his issues with individual therapy, continues to blame himself, and just continues the same grind he wanted to escape, possibly. But I'm looking more to how Storer and Co. are telling the story as my signs more than Carmy's actual history. I guess I just don't see what the show would have to gain from Carmy becoming an addict. It would be a tragic ending. I'm not beyond them doing some tragic ending but I think it would just be kind of lame and what was the point if it ends with Carmy continuing the cycle and becoming an addict.

I see him and Nat as the second chance for the Berzattos. She is about to be a mom and hopefully will raise a child that doesn't have to witness any of the trauma she did. Carmy is trying to start over and I think as much as he is struggling now and it may get worse before better, I just see too many points of lightness for him to crawl towards/through. And I think this being so inspired by Storer's lived experience, I can't see him wanting it to end in doom and gloom. Chris and Coco are Carmy and Nat to me. They broke the curse. I think because of that he would want the show to reflect that.

Now, what the fuck is wrong with Carmy, in detail. I will start by saying we don't really know a diagnosis. I think common/possibly correct assumptions are a mix of anxiety, depression, and CPTSD. But I've also seen other ideas like maybe he is on the spectrum among other things. I'm not quick to say anything outside of the first three. He could be neurodivergent, but I guess what makes me not want to say that is because when people bring it up there is often this sentiment that it explains everything about him or that is takes precedent over his behavior being a reaction to his trauma. Two things can be true at the same time but I sometimes feel people apply neurodivergence in a way that dismisses how the average person would deal with a series of overlapping traumas.

The same way I see people assign Sydney as being neurodivergent and I'm like, or she could just be dealing with a lot of bullshit and trauma as a black woman? Because shit, I'm similar, does that mean I'm neurodivergent, too? Not to take away anyone who is neurodivergent and they relate to things they see in the characters. I'm just saying be careful to not dismiss common reactions to lived experience as such without more insight. Or sometimes people can be awkward or quirky without it being neurodivergence. Like sometimes it comes across as what we do know the characters have gone through isn't enough to justify what we see.

I will say I could see a case for Carmy having a learning disability. The evidence being his dislike for reading extensively and his very poor math skills. I think it was @eatandsleepwell who pointed out he only likes books with pictures. It's true. Most of his books are image heavy. And a lot of people are bad at math but he can't keep up with basic addition and subtraction (aka dyscalculia). But again, I think we are seeing evidence of this specific condition, not vague symptoms that could occur due to a number of things.

None of this is to say speculation or headcanons are not welcome. But to hard assign diagnosis is another thing.

#carmy berzatto #the bear fx #addiction #trauma

41 notes · View notes

my-autism-adhd-blog · 9 months

Note

Hey, um, this feels like a silly question that I should have seen the answer on here somewhere for, but...

What is your opinion on self diagnosing autism?

I really want to seek a formal diagnosis because there are so many signs that I'm autistic; I've taken every single test you've linked on your blog with really high scores, I've realised a lot of common autistic experiences are things that I've had that I just thought I was insane for, and that having so many sensitivities when it comes to food and textures and smells and lights and things not always being exactly as I think they should be isn't just....a thing that I go through, by myself, that I can't get over because I'm not trying hard enough- that other people struggle with the same things all the time, but they have autism and that's something I could never even consider that I might have too until other people asked me because they thought I did.

I'm sorry for going on- all this is to say, I do want a formal diagnosis, but because I'm trans/autonomy is a concern if I were diagnosed, and because how hard it might be to even get one since I don't have anyone around from my childhood to attest to how I was when I was young, I don't know if it's even something I can or should do. At the very least, it would take years for me to get to a place where I could pursue it.

I've been agonizing and doing so much research over the past several months, and I'm so so sure, but I'm also really afraid of diagnosing myself with it, let alone communicating that to the people close to me. I don't want to be one of those yucky people who lie about having autism. All I want is to feel like it's okay to seek community with people who experience the world more similarly to me, and like I'm allowed to ask for resources and utilize things that I need to function better in day to day life without unrightfully claiming something that I might not actually have.

So, um, I just wondered, what do you think about self diagnosis, as someone with autism? Is it wrong to do it- is it wrong that I've even thought about it? I don't know what's okay at all, and I really feel terrible about even thinking I could.

Thank you for taking the time to read this even though I drabble on.

Hi there,

Im not a doctor or a professional, but I’m completely okay with self diagnose as long as you do the proper research. (Not looking things up on TikTok or anything like that. I know there’s some actual neurodivergent there trying to help, but I think it’s filled with so much misinformation than information.

I was diagnosed in 2009, but I I was diagnosed with Aspergers before it was changed into Autism Spectrum Disorder.

And it’s completely up to you if you want to a official diagnosis. Some people find it helpful, other not too much. If you want to try to get an official diagnosis, then you need to find a good psychiatrist/psychologist (I don’t know which one diagnoses disorders).

But that might be a but hard.

Sorry for rambling there. My main point is you can definitely diagnose yourself if you do correct resources and some symptoms that you think you have.

I hope this answer your question. Thank you for the inbox. I hope you have a wonderful day/night. ♥️

#inbox #inbox reply #inbox is open

26 notes · View notes

faithfromanewperspective · 7 months

Text

do you know how much the way certain fans feel this sense of ownership of celebrities they love and relate to pisses me off and has for years?

like I’ve been a young teen in the days one direction was big. I’ve made mistakes and said things I don’t morally agree with to fit in when I’ve been asked about celebrity crushes, artists I like etc. I learned not to trust fanfics with celebrities in them because I’ve read enough that have made me uncomfortable often in hindsight even if I enjoyed them at the time (not saying we can’t do ethical fics, but this is just an area I don’t engage with and so I’m not an expert in). I’ve had to see the same thing happen, in smaller ways, to people I love who were successful at something or attractive or whatever and as a result the people around them didn’t grant them the freedom they deserve and have a right to.

if I think too hard about it I reflect on the fact I might’ve lost the closest person I knew to a soulmate to this: they left the toxic environment I knew them from, and I knew at the time even that I was a reminder of that time of them, I had to let them go. What I’m saying I guess is this is personal, I do know something of what it’s like, I’m not trying to make it impossible to be a fan.

because I also understand the feeling of ‘no one gets me but X, I’m alive because of X, I find solace in their music or other art form and I’d die for a chance to meet them and I know I’m obsessed as a trauma reaction I can’t just stop’

like all you have to do is remember they’re a person with trauma too. and they’re baring themselves to share that, an incredibly vulnerable thing, they’re trusting us to take care of them. millions of us often who get it and are strengthened because of it as we get through whatever we’re going through. the impact is profound. and this goes both ways.

I remember when Taylor released red and I remember that it was the lucky one that made me realise the way celebrity worship culture had infiltrated into my high school. I remember even then, the emotions of the song convincing me I’d support her if she did disappear from the spotlight. That penny dropped so long ago I can’t remember it but. It’s not easy to be vulnerable with people who go crazy over you and unless you’re real intentional about it and have great boundaries, it’s not sustainable. At all. And this is where it’s our responsibility like it is with the way we tread lightly (or need to, badly) on our planet: we need to adopt the same attitude for our celebrities. Especially the ones we love.

because can you imagine being thrust into that world when you yourself are a teenager, too young to know what boundaries even are? When you’re a teenager who’s from a background of obscurity and struggling to fit in as it is, hungry for love and validation and already used to working hard and beating yourself up at everything bad that happens that you may or may not have had any control over?

I can’t speak for the background of most celebrities but I do know what it’s like to grow up in western sydney in the early 2000s, creative and sensitive and likely neurodivergent in a world that doesn’t know what that is, in a world where we don’t think of ourselves as special or deserving of any sort of thing we might need, in a world where we survive by pleasing people and working hard. It makes for the most humble successful people you’ll ever meet who know how to have empathy and care and will probably work themselves—I know because I’ve done it—into the ground at any chance to have a meaningful difference in someone’s life.

and this is a trend that happens regardless of gender. women are objectified all the time, and as a society we’re starting to call that out. Good. If you’re trans people are weird and predatory all the time, and we’re starting to have conversations where we realise that. Good. And shaming people who are so horrible to such a vulnerable population. But if you’re a man, it doesn’t mean you’re immune to it. Especially if you’re good looking.

being a teenager in the 2010s means being part of a world and generation that was insane over boy bands and when you’re a teenager going through the things and finding comfort in music, you’re not all that powerful, just a vulnerable child. But we grew up, we’re in our 20s now, and we’re adults with power and we have to be conscious of that. Stalking is predatory behaviour, thinking back to the wedding people crowded outside of a month or so back. Recording someone in their private dressing room is predatory behaviour. These are things that if they happened to you, you would call the police, and if it continued, you would get a restraining order. Celebrities aren’t any different to you in that, except for the fact that this is normal fan behaviour to many apparently.

this needs to stop. If we want celebrities we can connect with to continue existing publicly we have to remember that they’re humans first. And go a step further: think about the fact that private jets are causing so much environmental damage and we have to do something about them. But celebrities can’t be normal people commuting where they have to go. They’re constantly on display and if you want to come across as a good person you have to be friendly to every fan. Even if you’re neurotypical, and many of our most talented are not, this is exhausting. Trust me when I say the best thing you can do for the environment, for the celebrities you love, for the music industry, anything, is treat them as normal people and connect with people who find comfort in their art like you do so you don’t feel alone: rather than thinking celebrities are yours to own in any way because of the impact they’ve had on you, and then being weird and gatekeepy at other fans.

this applies to any fandom really, but especially to those for celebrities who do decide to be vulnerable in their art. who tend to be kind with a tendency to people pleasing and possibly overwork too. who capture our hearts in so many ways and yes maybe their looks might play a part in it. who we’ve grown up with and maybe that means they started as kids too, had to learn boundaries the hard way and probably have still active trauma from that experience that’s impacting them and their personal lives because that’s what trauma does. who still decide to say nice things about how much they appreciate their fans all the time instead of ever taking it out on us.

but we can see their trauma in their songs when they are being vulnerable, and their success means that there are some of us who get it. A youth that was stolen and filled with mistakes/I turned all around look for someone to blame/but I’m over dramatic and drenched in my pain. I know I’m not the only one who that hit home for. So use your heads. You say you care and yet you turn people who care for you as much as they physically can when their fan base is in the millions into objects who exist for your own pleasure without thought to whether it’s hurting them. we need to do better.

(thank you @confusionmeisss for inspiring this rant)

#music #ethics #5 seconds of summer #easy for you to say #the lucky one #luke hemmings #ashton irwin #calum hood #michael clifford

15 notes · View notes

chipped-chimera · 7 months

Text

Ugh ... I am low-key so worried about how the BG3 ending is gonna play out for Karlach that I'm considering stopping playing and just coming back to it when I can handle it. Some of this shit is just hitting too close to home and I'm not sure I'm cut out for it.

More personal context under the cut if you want.

I relate to Karlach's pain so much. Too much. To the point it makes me teary thinking about it. Both of our lives have been cruel.

It has been hard for me, despite a stable family upbringing that most would envy, in a lower-middle class family that for the large part has been financially stable. I'm also white. I know I'm lucky in that capacity - god I fucking know (and the thought that what I've gone through could be considered a 'lucky' position? What does that mean for others? It keeps me up at night).

But that didn't stop the pain crawling in. I wasn't diagnosed with Autism until 27. I wasn't diagnosed with co-morbid ADHD until I was 28. I wasn't medicated for ADHD until I was 30 (and that was AFTER being told by a psych who also invalidated my Autism diagnosis aka the context for fucking EVERYTHING in my life, I couldn't have ADHD because I could 'read a book').

Before that? I knew I was depressed at 13, but didn't want to burden my family so I did nothing - we may be lower middle class and stable but I knew that was only because my parents tried so fucking hard. We had camping chairs in place of furniture up until I was eight. I lived with the pain because I didn't want to burden them, and without the context of my neurodivergence I just blamed myself for the problem, not being good enough, not trying hard enough - not being ENOUGH. I held onto it until I cracked and couldn't take it anymore at 16. I was diagnosed with Depression and Generalised Anxiety Disorder. It's since been upgraded to chronic Major Depression and it's classed as treatment resistant.

Both of us have had moments of building ourselves up from nothing. Through therapy and medication I was able to feel a bit better, more positive as I left high school. Thinking maybe it was gonna be okay after all, out there in the world.

It felt like I'd slowly reached out into the light, tentatively, hopefully - there'd be something more, that I'd live out the dreams I'd had, the things I'd always wanted to do. I was still optimistic.

Instead it felt like that arm had been immediately lopped off.

The story is long and too complicated to tell without this being longer than it needs to be. But like Karlach, I feel I've lost years of my life. Like Karlach, it's been a decade - ten years. That I cannot get back, that I grieve keenly.

I have been isolated, and then betrayed by those I thought I trusted. First, by the systems that were supposed to help me when I was struggling - my own government's system as they hit me with a debt that I couldn't even pay, on a scheme which has in retrospect been found to be completely illegal, but has left me with lasting trauma and damage and no closure. Not even a sorry. Because I, with my undiagnosed Autism and ADHD and a growing fatigue issue where I was so exhausted from simply being alive I just couldn't fight it. So I let them take money out of my social security payment - which was and still is considered below the poverty line. I was punished for being poor, I was punished for arguably, being disabled.

And then, by the person I trusted most. The person I thought I loved, the person who made it felt like everything was okay - I may be struggling still but there was still a future! There was someone who cared about me, who would be beside me for the rest of my lifetime. He asked me to marry him. We were engaged for three. Years. We'd been dating for 10. I thought everything, despite all the shit happening to me, was going to be okay.

It wasn't.

I had landed some employment for the first time in 3 years. I was working more hours than advised by the psychologist who diagnosed me with Autism but I had no choice - I was literally on the minimum limit available to me, due to the barriers I still have to navigate to qualify for disability supports (again, from a government system that I no longer trusted and gave me the earnest impression that they preferred me dead than 'leeching off their system'). But I was not living. I couldn't handle even 15 hours a week, I was more exhausted than I'd ever been. I felt like a corpse. I spoke with my disability employment coordinator (no, despite what I said, being on disability EMPLOYMENT services does not qualify you getting onto disability support, just means the government will only hound me for a minimum of 15 hrs a week instead of 30 in order for social security, that's a whole other complicated thing) IN CONFIDENCE that I wasn't sure I could keep up with the current work format and hoped I could discuss some solutions. Next minute I find I'm locked out of the work facebook. I was fired, without warning and without protections because I was a casual. Because my employment coordinator told my boss before even discussing anything with me.

My relationship was suffering but I wasn't aware. I was too tired for intimacy, and probably two tired to see the signs. I'd gotten my Autism diagnosis at this point and maybe it was a bit difficult for my fiancée at the time to understand, but he came to terms with it. The ADHD assessment was booked. I had realized at this point pushing myself to be something I wasn't, thinking somehow landing work and earning money for myself would help the depression - it didn't. I was worse than I'd ever been. Then the moment came where I was handed a notice that the government would no longer give me any social security because my partner, on his meager chef's salary was earning too much. All because I'd tried to do the right thing by the government. I'd tried so hard to be good. I'd tried so hard to be ENOUGH.

I wasn't enough.

My fiancée came to me, my fiancée who I'd been talking to about our upcoming wedding plans now the pandemic was over, my fiancée who I'd been cuddling with on the couch last night watching films - he came to me when I was battered, and raw and broken and crying in bed - just said 'I can't do this anymore.' And that was it. It was done. As I processed it, I realised the root of it was, it was because I'd taken the mask off. I decided I wasn't going to try to be something I wasn't anymore, because I knew and it was backed up in countless studies - what I was doing was actively killing me. And he didn't want to deal with that. I wasn't enough, and yet I was too much.

It has been two years since then. My ADHD is medicated. I live in a stable, safe environment with my parents where I don't have to worry about my security. I have set firm boundaries that I learned while I was independent, and they respect them. But the wounds are still deep and it'll take a long time to recover, to get that trust in the world back.

When I look at Karlach, I see some of myself. Someone who has been used, abused and betrayed by those they trusted. Someone who felt abandoned by everything, that there was no hope, no way out. And yet in spite of it all - kept going. Who, deep in their heart kept something soft and safe. Held onto and protected what little shred of optimism left. Because if we don't practice kindness, who will? We want to be the kindness we want to see in the world, because fuck, have we seen so little of it. It is so easy to give up, to fall into despair when you've been through so much shit. It requires so much vigilance and energy and momentum to keep going, when you're wading through a battlefield of carnage and gore in your life, whether metaphorical or literal. We hold on and we are kind because we hope, one day, that kindness will touch us back. That despite it all we try our fucking hardest to wear a smile, and see the good in everything we can.

And I think that's why it hurts so much. Karlach is finally free. And happy. She feels loved. She's finally feeling some of that kindness again kindness that I know, that she knows she fucking deserves. And it's on a fucking time limit.

And that's what's fucking breaking me. I know she's supposed to be some kind of allegory for terminal illness. And I know this isn't my story. I know it's a story that is important to tell, and it will touch others in a different way. But for me it feels like all the wounds I've barely scabbed over are being ripped open again. Because this is not an ending she deserves at all. It makes me sit and wonder, is that all there is for people like us? Just brief windows of happiness in the pain until we die? Don't we deserve saving? Don't we deserve a happy ending? A peaceful one? Don't we deserve to wear that smile, that happiness without us having to fight for every second it with tooth and nail to keep it there? To believe in it?

I don't know the endings in detail for her. But i have seen enough in the vaguest sense to feel it won't be good, and I don't know if I'm ready for that. I have played games with sad themes, like I know Cyberpunk isn't that great either - but I think the difference is who it is happening to. It's somehow easier when it's you, as the player. But when it's someone else? When you know that pain so fucking keenly you would rip yourself apart just to let them escape that hell, it's hard to stomach.

Then there's the disability angle that bothers me so much. Currently her options, as she puts it, are burning up and dying or going back to Avernus. I understand why she's choosing death, like, fuck man I do. Why is it always death though? Why is death better. Why can't she get a replacement heart? Make it shit! It can be a shitty heart that still works, but needs tune ups, and maybe she can't fight like she used to but she gets to fucking live a happy life! Because a shitty, happy life is better than nothing at all. Because as it goes, it feels to me I'm just being told it's easier to just die than submit to the suffering again whenever a piece of media picks an end like this. It's either the cure-all or death, there's never room for something in between. There's never room for making peace with what you have lost and still reclaiming some of your life, grieving what you have lost but still finding something worth having and holding onto. And when you're in that limbo state yourself, it's a hard pill to swallow. And it's hard to let anyone else fall into it.

We both deserve life. We both deserve happiness.

Fuck.

#baldur's gate 3 #bg3 spoilers #karlach #ugh why did i have to get stupid for her #ok i know why i got stupid for her #you provide me muscled woman for once? I AM NOT TURNING DOWN A MEAL I AM STARVING FOR #just ugh some of this shit though is hitting too hard #this is long #ventpost #if anyone reads this entire thing and has finished BG3 and doesn't think I can handle it pls let me know #probably gonna drop the game like a hot potato #despite what I said about wanting to finish it badly #idk just got to the bit where she was talking to me about feeling scared and I just ... couldn't #depression tw #trauma tw #I hate that this entire spiel? yeah? This is the /short/ version of my deeplore ok #ngl the disability thing makes me wanna write to larian because I'm sick of this 'better off dead' message thrown at us all #we deserve some positive fucking rep for once #ableism tw #maybe idk #kerytalk #keryplays bg3

10 notes · View notes

phtalogreenpoison · 1 year

Text

Sticky Washington my beloved

Ok so I have many thoughts on George "Sticky" Washington.

Like first off I wonder what his middle name is. Now that may seem random, but do you really think he is going to go by Sticky as an older teenager or adult? And I kinda feel like George was made more uncomfy because of Mr. Curtain always referring to him as George, so perhaps instead he might go by his middle name, though I have no clue what it is.

Another thing I appreciate is that he has a complicated relationship with his parents. Like him running away initially was what I wanted to do as a kid (haha don't think too hard on that one), particularly from the pressure to be the golden child (though he is an only child so it doesn't create added tension in sibling dynamics).

Additionally, though he does run away after a misconstrued comment he overhears from his parents talking, but it wasn't solely from that alone. However much he loves them and they love him, they still put that pressure on him in the first place, and did not realize his emotional needs were not being met. He was still a kid and shouldn't have had to be in that position.

Now I know there is further nuance to their situation, particularly due to class and race that I may not be able to address fully, and the Washingtons had struggled financially, especially with Mrs. Washington's disability. This could have seemed like the ticket for Sticky to have a happy, successful, and intellectually stimulating career path - something to set him up for life. His parents wanted the best for him, which is evidenced in how they completely change their approach once he goes missing. They spend all their money trying to find him and go into debt again (which probably felt even worse after having a taste of better financial standing), and once they meet him again at the end of the first book, they say they don't expect him to compete, assuming he doesn't want to. They want to give him the chance to just be a kid, albeit one who is "gifted" and probably neurodivergent (plus mental illness - definitely anxiety). This time, it is easier for them to meet his needs because of the additional assistance of Mr. Benedict, his friends, and the whole crew as an added support system, which he would not have even gotten if not for a set of bizarre happenstances.

On the other hand, I personally do not think things would be all sunshine and roses. Before he ran away, he felt like they didn't really know him, and yes, they are trying to build a better relationship, which is genuinely great. But I wonder if he ever feels stifled. Since he went from a highly managed schedule with a disconnect in regards to his interests, to them encouraging him to be a kid for a bit longer, does he feel they think he doesn't know how to be an adult? Does he feel coddled now? Don't get me wrong, he should be able to be a kid, but I can definitely relate to the possible source of frustration. Maybe he resents that his parents weren't the ones to help him find his ground, even if he understands that they tried. Maybe he has to remind himself to be open with them, or maybe he feels like he still can't be because they still need to rebuild that trust

Then in the second and third books you get him grappling with pride versus ego (taking joy in himself versus him just knowing a lot of things and seeing that as better, which is definitely something I had to struggle through too), and he starts to find a balance of sorts. I wonder how long it takes him to truly find independence and begin to explore his identity more.

Anyways, I love these characters so much, and I may be projecting a little onto Sticky (lmao). Again, there are some things I kinda only mentioned in passing, but I think this is a decent attempt at analyzing his character.

#sticky washington #mysterious benedict society #mbs #character analysis #headcanons #mbs spoilers #why cant writing essays for school be this easy #can we also appreciate trenton lee stewart for actually including diversity in multiple forms and nuanced depictions of family #also please don't take this as me hating Mr and Mrs Washington #family can be difficult sometimes and I think this is a beautiful nuanced portrayal #particularly in a coming of age story of sorts #lmk if i should make more of these for other mbs characters

21 notes · View notes

compassionatereminders · 1 year

Note

Hey Kat, I feel moved to voice some sentiment of encouragement with what your ex-partners have done to you.

My heart hurts with yours, as I too have experienced a partner who chose to sever years of connection by a weak conversation about how I was the sole problem between us, and then ghosting me. He refused to have a real conversation about how he was neglecting to step up and be a partner and instead chose to do nothing as his mother discriminated against my disability and socioeconomic status. Like a typical rich c*nt she decided that I was taking advantage of her son and was unworthy of his love, and the truth of my struggle with being disabled and physically incapable of keeping up with the demands of hypercapitalism all alone (zero help from abusive family, just one neurodivergent and physically disabled person trying to keep my head above water) was all just my failure to try hard enough. That I was just a parasite looking to get out of having to work. And when he did not stand up against her cruel judgement and advocate for his partner, and I expressed my feelings of abandonment and confusion at his inaction, he decided he would just say that I was the one unwilling to grow and seemed to be unreasonably holding on to negativity. He said he'd be back, but he ghosted.

It pushed every trigger of my developmental trauma, every fear of abandonment. It reaffirmed the deep mental programming that I am inherently worthless, and that I did not deserve better. I spent a long time feeling like I must have engineered the failure of the relationship alone, that I got what I deserved. Yet, the innate sense of betrayal and abandonment was like a hangnail catching on everything and sending shockwaves of pain through me.

It took time, but I've grown enough to learn to validate my pain. I never deserved to have such a relationship end that way. I didn't deserve his mother's resentful discrimination. I didn't deserve to have a partner fail to advocate for my worth. And I never deserved to have my heart obliterated by the cowardice of ghosting.

From what I've been able to observe from this distant internet stranger's perspective is that you were pulling the weight of communication in the relationship. You were expressing your needs, you were making clear your anxieties and asking for the very reasonable amount of support anyone in a partnership can and should be reasonably asking for. His cowardly retreat and subsequent ghosting after 5 years of your pouring love and effort into building something together is despicable. And though your posts show that you know that you don't deserve what they both did, knowing and feeling don't always show up together. I am familiar with the pain that visits you now, and I know that feeling seen can be a drink of water in a desert of pain.

I hope that as you begin to navigate the coming weeks and months that your wisdom of the truth that you didn't deserve this can saturate through to your aching heart. You have demonstrated that you are prepared to show up and own your responsibility, to use skill and tools to build something with your partners and navigate all that through the problems that come with mental illness. We all fuck up sometimes, but a supportive partner shows grace and forgiveness for mistakes. They don't tell you that you're the one not trying/working hard enough for them, they don't ever assume that they have no responsibility in a situation.

You don't deserve what they did and didn't do. And though this reveals so much about their (and especially his) deeper character, that you deserve better... This grief will hurt. It will linger and touch every moment of life for a time. Knowing that it won't last forever won't change the way the heart feels like this pain will be everlasting. Your strength and resilience is truly remarkable. You have an amazing insight and wisdom about your responsibility for your own behaviour in relationship dynamics, and you clearly know that you were doing more than your share of the emotional labour. You know that despite your needs and struggles that you deserved to have that effort reciprocated.

But like I said, knowing and feeling don't always coexist. I hope that in those moments of dissonance that you feel the support of your network, both on and offline. Thank you for all the work you do just by showing up and working towards good. Even as I reach out to offer support, I feel supported in kind by just the opportunity to talk about my resonant experience. I hope you feel that support too 💜

I am feeling the support and I am so touched by the outpouring of support my inbox has received since this situation escalated. I am not answering every individual ask, but I am reading all of them and I truly appreciate that so many people agree that this is horrible and that I did not deserve this shit. Even strangers who only knows me through this blog. It is very affirming to know that so many people agree that I was not the irrational and toxic person in this and that you all see good in me

#chat with kat #ableism tw

29 notes · View notes

bonnie-is-bumbling · 11 months

Text

"I'm not trying to steal the spotlight. I'm just neurodivergent and trying to relate to you."

My friend and I were in Discord, having a discussion, and this came up. I thought it was a worthwhile point to spread.

See, before diagnosis, I had been through the wringer over this. The most memorable was a lady in Second Life, who told me I was only stealing the spotlight and not responding to her, just continuing on my own stories.

Me? I was confused. And I truly felt awful when she told me how it made her feel. I apologized, but it was not accepted.

I was told that I was just saying that, and being told to prove I was sorry.

It was maybe a year ago, possibly two. I don't even remember her name. But I do remember how I felt. I remember it clear as day. (I actually sometimes gripe at myself for hanging onto it. My brain clearly didn't get the memo that it's waaaay done and over with.)

I felt like a horrible piece of subhuman shite. I called myself a narcissist, and went into a full panic and upset, I told everyone to block me for their own safety, I changed my username, profile, everything to just call myself a big nope and warn people away. I know- overreact, much?

I couldn't afford a diagnosis, I had been told I was Neurotypical and just 'Unique' my whole life. But it still makes me walk on eggshells. And I mean I do it with everyone. Even those I love.

The Second Life lady was by far not the only time online, or in person that I had this experience and it b r o k e me. The way I try to conduct myself is that I try to extend kindness. And to be a spotlight thief is unkind. So that must mean I am unkind?... That's how I took it. That I was lying to myself, that I was cruel, inconsiderate, a narcissist, an asshole, a manipulative piece of shit. And that's so bloody toxic to myself, and inadvertently, others.

I wanted, not to die, but to cease my existence, so nobody would have ever been hurt by me in the past, present, or future. I struggled, and still do. I still lay down like a doormat so I don't offend the people who, in all reality, would be fine if I put in my opinion or thoughts. Because my mind, even after dx, still worries about crushing the one eggshell that sends the other person into upset, caused by me. Even when I'm not the guilty party, I will still feel guilt over an upset and try to fix it.

I'm aware this isn't great, but today, it's leaps and bounds away from where I was. I've actually been able to stand up for myself some, or brush some things off. At least consciously. My self-talk has improved. I try not to rely 9n my diagnosis, but when I feel it's necessary, I will inform my partner in conversation. It doesn't always get through to them, but... After that, I can much more easily accept if it just goes awry. I do fight with myself, and have to try so hard not to label myself so horribly right away. Healing is NOT easy.

Those of us who can't afford official diagnosis, or can't access it. We're in pain and we don't know what's going on. If you see someone seeming to steal the spotlight, please don't accuse them of doing so to belittle you right away.

Look at what they're saying or why they might be saying it. Give them the same opportunity you would want. I didn't mean to be a jerk and steal the spotlight when I was accused. I know that for a fact. I thought we were making conversation, truly and honestly, and the accusations hit like a bullet to the general view of myself.

Those of us without diagnosis, please don't think of yourself as I did of myself. Look into what you truly intended, and try not to bully yourself over it. It feels horrible, especially when you don't know why it's happening, and why you're 'like this'. Your mental health, no matter your condition; no matter of your diagnosis status, does not deserve the hurt. If you meant well and were accused of being cruel, you still meant well. Hold onto that knowledge. Correct what you feel you need to. Take responsibility, but just don't beat yourself up like I did!

You've got this, and even if you don't have a diagnosis, or can't get one, know you're still valid in how you feel, function, and think.

I'm still practicing this myself, but...

Have patience with yourself. You're doin' ya best! ♡

#my thougts #ramblings #mental health #self care #autism #adhd #neurodivergence #neurodivergent problems #emotional validation #mental health journey #memories #feelings #you are amazing #neurodivergent speech patterns #self healing #you aren't alone #bumbling

14 notes · View notes

newpathwrites · 5 months

Text

Series Masterlist Main Masterlist

Chapter 4

Ultimately, he’d succeeded. Rya was here in the ship with him right now, entirely unharmed. The child was safely tucked away in the bunk, fast asleep. It was over, right? But dank farrik - something still felt wrong…

Din would never claim to be intuitive in the emotional sense - but he certainly was observant - and knew his partner quite well. And it was becoming clear to him now that he’d taken some time to assess the situation… Rya was physically unharmed, but she was not okay…

Summary: Keeping the child out of Moff Gideon’s hands turns out to be bittersweet. Rya is struggling, and Din makes an allowance…

Note: This takes place in the final episodes of season 1.

I’m a little self-conscious about this one because I don’t want to offend any touch-averse and/or neurodivergent readers out there who might feel like I’m suggesting that anyone should have to push their limits for another person’s sake or make an effort to change themselves. That’s really not what I’m trying to portray here - Din’s touch aversion and way of being in this story are very much modeled after myself, and I wanted to explore my own experiences and the ways in which my boundaries have evolved in certain contexts through this character.

On the lighter side, I also threw in some asexual stereotypes for Rya to dispel in her conversation with Cara - if you know, you know :-)

Warnings: Implied child death and grief.

Read on AO3

————————————————————————

After their run-in with Din’s old crew, which Rya was trying hard not to think too much about, things had gotten desperate. Everywhere they turned, the child was in danger. Credits were running out, the ship was falling apart, and both adults were on the verge of a nervous breakdown. They didn’t trust Karga one bit, but what other choice did they have? This all had to end - one way or another.

It was a long journey to the meeting point with the client, and Cara took the opportunity to pepper Rya with questions about Mandalorian life - along with some more personal things, a certain theme featuring prominently in her inquiries. While it was a good distraction from her troubles and Rya enjoyed the former rebel’s company, the inquisition was honestly starting to get rather annoying.

“So you are allowed to see each other’s faces?”

“Yeah, the one benefit of bonding - don’t have to keep the helmet on all the time…”

“Is he good-looking at least?”

Rya tilted the helmet in thought. Mandalorians didn’t have much reason to consider aesthetic attractiveness generally. “Sure, I guess he’s alright - he’s not ugly, anyway.”

“Hmmm… Do you share a bunk?”

“No, he sleeps in the cockpit. I share the bunk with the kid.”

“Do you hug?”

“No.”

“Ever?”

“Cara… No. I told you - he doesn’t like touching.”

“So you’ve never kissed, then?”

Rya sighed. “Obviously not… We’re not like that, and you know it. Will you ever run out of invasive questions?”

“No way - you two are fascinating…”. Cara paused, smirking. “Sex?”

“What about sex? You already know the answer to that. I’m not interested. He’s not interested. Zero interest…”

“How would you know if you haven’t tried?”

“Damn it, Cara… How do you know that you don't like sleeping with Jawas if you’ve never tried it?” Rya tilted her visor at the other woman pointedly.

“Okay… point taken. But have you? Now I’m just curious.”

“Fine… a couple times… when I was twenty or so… hated it… never did it again…”

“Maybe you’d prefer women?” Cara offered.

“Nope. I’m just as unattracted to women as I am to any other gender. Before you ask - yes, he’s the same, and no, I know nothing of his experience - that’s his business.”

“Well, that’s no fun... So… is it weird? Living with someone who won’t touch you?”

Now Rya was getting a bit angry on Din’s behalf. “No, Cara, it isn’t. We all have our peculiarities - some are just more obvious than others. But I know him, and I respect him, and I wouldn’t want him to change that about himself if it would make him uncomfortable. He is who he is - nothing weird about it.”

Cara liked to push buttons - but she also knew when to quit. “Alright - I’m sorry… You’re a good friend, by the way…”

Rya smiled under the visor. “Thanks. Now let’s give it a rest with the questions.”

Really, Din any other way would not be Din…. In fact, if he were to ever become overtly affectionate, Rya would probably think him possessed.

It had taken her some time to sort it out over the years - the underlying current tying all of his various personality traits together. While he claimed it was about things like hypochondria, maybe a bit of obsessive-compulsiveness, or his preference for solitude, Rya eventually realized that at its root was an aversion to intimacy . Touching for no practical purpose, allowing someone to be privy to your thoughts or emotions, engaging in affectionate words or gestures - all of these things implied a kind of intimate knowing that made Din uncomfortable. As far as he was concerned, his physical person and inner thoughts were private, to be known by him only and shared with no one.

But Rya had always been his exception. She figured it was only because she understood and accepted him - and would never expect more than what he offered - that he was comfortable sharing small parts of himself with her as he felt able. Over the decades they’d known each other, he’d shared quite a lot, and he opened up to her more still every day, now unexpectedly bound together in their middle age, as her trustworthiness was proven again and again.

She’d even noticed his physical boundaries shifting a bit - at least when it was just the three of them in the ship. He no longer reacted with that exaggerated startle if they accidentally brushed against each other in cramped spaces. He hadn’t hesitated to help her with an injury she couldn’t properly handle with her non-dominant hand, and barely flinched when she suddenly and without thinking reached out to grip his leg to steady herself against the pain. And with the kid - it seemed all of his boundaries had dissolved completely - the child’s innocence made it all so much easier it seemed, and Rya sometimes couldn’t believe how natural Din had become with him.

Rya didn’t expect Din to change - or even want him to - but he was doing it, anyway, of his own accord, on his own terms, and in his own small ways.

But Cara didn’t need to know any of this… His evolving comfort levels with his makeshift family were his private business…

——————————

Moff Gideon was dead (supposedly), and finally, they were safe…

Din could breathe again. Every waking moment since taking the child - not that he’d really allowed himself to sleep - had his heart perpetually gripped on the edge of panic… on alert, prepared to do whatever he must to protect those under his care - the only living being he loved in this entire galaxy… and the innocent child he now knew as his foundling.

As soon as the kid had fallen asleep, she’d removed the majority of her armor - in a rather hurried fashion, like she was frantic to be free of it. It was a strange thing for her to do. While Rya was certainly not as shy as Din was when it came to being seen in just the flight suit, it was still not in her nature to go any extended length of time wearing none of the beskar at all.

And then she’d suddenly stopped in the middle of the hull, as if she didn’t have the energy to take another step, and that’s where Din found her now. The warmth and light was gone from her eyes, which were mostly hidden from view as she stared down at the floor. Her arms were crossed tightly in front of her chest, hands draped over opposite shoulders, gripping her flight suit there. She stood completely still, only shivering slightly as a few stray tears slipped down her cheeks, quickly wiped away by a trembling hand before wrapping back around her body.

Din understood her tears but puzzled over her odd positioning for a moment. He wasn’t sure exactly what it meant - but even he could feel the silent plea radiating from her form. She needed… something… He didn’t know what, but he would figure it out. She would do the same for him.

He approached, searching her facial expression for some conveyance of what was happening to her right now, and hesitantly put a hand to her upper arm in an attempt at a comforting touch. He didn’t really know how to do this. She flinched just slightly, as if she hadn’t fully registered his presence before but would not meet his gaze. He’d never seen her like this, and he was beginning to sincerely worry for her welfare.

“Rya…” he spoke softly, attempting the sort of gentleness he often heard her use with the child. “Are you alright?”

She met his eyes for just a second before dropping them back down to the floor. She shook her head slowly as she whispered in reply. “No…”

“What is it?” He kept his hand on her arm, aware this was probably an awkward gesture, but he could tell it was helping, her rigid form relaxing just a bit the longer he held on.

She hesitated to answer, taking a few calming breaths before her voice cracked with emotion. “It all just keeps flashing through my mind.” She still wouldn’t look at him, now closing her eyes as she continued. “You almost died, Din. And if I hadn’t been there… you wouldn’t have let anyone else help you… You’d be gone…” She inhaled sharply, trying to fend off more tears.

He tried to stop her then, reassure her that he was alive and well - but there was more…

“… and Kuill… He deserved better than what we gave him…” She referred to the shallow grave they’d dug outside the ship in the dust of Nevarro, far from the proud home Kuill had built for himself on Arvala-7.

Din kept quiet this time, sensing that something bigger was at play as she finally looked at him, fresh tears filling her eyes. “The covert… the foundlings…” She was cut off by her own choking sob, allowing the sorrow to overtake her, no longer able to hold it back.

Of course, the foundlings… In many ways, they were like her own children, most of them lacking any other parental figure. She had been like a mother to them, the kind of loving caretaker she and Din never had growing up. But she couldn’t save them from this - the destruction that she herself had brought down on the covert when she insisted on rescuing a strange child from the Empire.

Now Din understood. It wasn’t that he didn’t feel the same devastation. Of course, he did - he felt emotions just like everyone else. He had just never felt the urge to alter his mood or behavior as a result of them - compartmentalization was a natural and automatic thing for him. It was Rya who had reassured him as a teenager that his outwardly unemotional way of being was perfectly alright… and taught him the ways in which that character trait might help him navigate this difficult galaxy to his advantage. Still, he forgot sometimes that Rya wasn’t like him - when it came to the innocent… when it came to those few she loved… she felt everything…

“I’m so sorry, Rya… The armorer said some escaped off world… Maybe they discarded the children’s helmets so they wouldn’t be targets… We can hope, at least…”

She nodded in agreement, hopeful for a moment but unable to speak quite yet, arms still wrapped tightly around her body.

“How can I help? Is there anything I can do?” Din was desperate to help her - somehow…

She shook her head. “Thank you, Din… but… I just need a hug and a good cry…”

His hand immediately fell from its place on her arm as he realized what she’d said. She needed a hug… something so simple for anyone else - but impossible for him. Maybe he could… for her… but even the idea itself was too overwhelming… He was frozen in place, stuck in a cycle of indecision.

And now he realized why she’d been standing that way, arms wrapped so tightly around her own torso… She was hugging herself … because he couldn’t… Din felt like he’d been stabbed in the heart.

Rya registered the pain in his eyes, immediately regretting her words, only speaking the truth in her sorrow without much thought. She did not expect anything of him - certainly not something he couldn’t give willingly and comfortably. She had not meant to hurt him. And wasn’t that just the best way to end this horrible, heartbreaking day?

The crying started all over again. “I’m so sorry, Din. I didn’t mean…” It was all too much. She couldn’t bear to look at him now, after she’d wounded him, however unintentionally. She abruptly turned toward the ladder and climbed shakily up to the cockpit, leaving Din standing alone in the hull while the sound of her quiet sobs floated down.

He wasn’t upset with her - he knew that Rya would never ask him for something that he couldn’t give. The words had just tumbled out - she wasn’t implying any expectation. But Maker… sometimes he wished he could be there for her in the ways that she needed, just as she always was for him.

The truth was that Din had been growing more comfortable recently with physical contact - if there was a good reason for it - and only with the two other people who lived on this ship. Maybe someday… in a very distant future… he might be comfortable embracing her when she was suffering like this… on rare occasions, anyway… But right now , the idea of having an entire body pressed up against his own was unthinkable.

Compromise - another thing Rya had taught him all those years ago to help him cope with a world that constantly tested his limits… Meeting somewhere in the middle - giving enough to accomplish the task at hand - but not so much as to blow straight through his own boundaries. What could he do to bring her some comfort without causing himself a crisis?

If only it was possible to hug someone halfway…

——————————

By the time Rya heard Din tentatively climbing the ladder to join her in the cockpit, she was quite sure she had no more tears left to cry. She only felt numb now - still indescribably sad… and worried she’d broken Din’s heart.

As he stepped into the small space, she assumed he would take his usual spot in the pilot seat - but he didn’t… instead lowering himself wordlessly onto the passenger seat beside her, his arm brushing up against hers. Rya figured he’d somehow miscalculated his trajectory, sitting so close by accident, and she reflexively shifted a few inches over to put a bit of space between them.

He sighed in mild frustration… Of course … she’d been very intentionally giving him space for decades… Oh well , he was still committed to doing this…

Rya watched in befuddlement as he began removing the vambrace and beskar plates from the arm that had brushed hers just a moment before, stopping only after he removed the pauldron from his shoulder. He finally looked at her and held out his armorless limb, which hovered between them, and gestured in a way that suggested he wanted her to take hold. What? She looked back at him questioningly. He didn’t have to do this.

“It’s okay. I’ll tell you if it’s too much.”

His reassurance was all she needed, desperate for something to ground her as her world fell apart. She moved slowly, anyway, giving him plenty of opportunity to change his mind.

She shifted closer, until their bodies were touching again, and then she looped both of her own limbs around his waiting one, looking up at him to make sure he was still alright with this position as she held his arm and pulled herself into his side.

She smiled for the first time on this terrible day as she realized that this was a compromise. He wanted so desperately to comfort her, but he couldn’t offer her the whole thing. He could, though, meet her somewhere in between - give her the anchor that she needed, without venturing too far past his own limits.

Her head came to rest on his shoulder - he’d removed the pauldron for a reason, after all.

“Are you sure this is okay, Din?”

“Yeah, it’s okay - for a few minutes.”

Rya took a deep breath, allowing calm to settle into her consciousness. They were going to be alright. They would get through this together as they did everything else. His warmth at her side right now only proved it - something so unlikely made possible by the care and trust between them.

She lifted her eyes to his face again and waited for his gaze to meet hers before expressing her gratitude, all the more sincere because she knew this was not an easy thing for him. “Thank you, ner burc’ya…”

He grinned slightly, proud in a way that he’d been able to meet her here. “You’re welcome, riduur.”

——————————

ner burc’ya = my friend

Thank you for reading!

Next chapter

#din djarin & original female character #platonic partnership #original mandalorian female character #the mandalorian fanfiction #din djarin fanfiction #asexual din djarin #aromantic din djarin #aroace din djarin #a unique bond #newpathwrites

5 notes · View notes

hightowertealights · 4 months

Text

mutual aid request for nonbinary, queer couple

I hate to talk about myself with what’s going on in the world and to ask for help but times are tough and if I want to help the world one day like I plan to I have to survive to be able to do so. the last year and a half has been really hard. My health has taken a turn for the worse and as such I have tried and failed to keep multiple jobs.

I have a spine injury and suffer from chronic pain, and I also have chronic fatigue as a result of chronic stress reactivating the Epstein-Barr virus in my body many times in my life. I also suffer from pre menstrual dysphoric disorder, and a host of mental health conditions including PTSD, insomnia, anxiety, and depression. Other people I suspect that I am likely neurodivergent as well. I have multiple university degrees but I am currently too sick to work. I had a good job working at an academy but was railroaded and fired for my mental health at a time when my employers knew I wouldn’t be able to fight for my rights. I worked a job I loved at a forest school, but was being evicted whilst working there, and was let go for how my mental health whilst fighting eviction was coming out at work. I also fell at work at the forest school and fractured multiple ribs and my sternum, which are still healing. After losing that job, I attempted to get a job outside of my field and fell on the way to work, injuring my tailbone and causing flare ups with my pre existing spine injury. I dealt with eviction for months and got through it by the skin of my teeth because the property I was living in changed agencies, with the letting agency forcing my partner and I to share one bedroom because they deemed us not worthy of our own spaces because we did not know any homeowners who could have co signed our rental agreement. They have squeezed four people into a two bedroom flat, but nowhere else would take us because my previous letting agency my reputation was being affected by the eviction process, because of discrimination based on earnings, and because the agency previously managing the property I live in has stolen between £700 and £800 from me and left me in financial ruin.

I have been deemed by the government as too sick to work and not needing to look for work, but cannot survive on the benefits I am receiving, and am repeatedly being denied financial aid by the government for being too sick to work. Before Christmas, I had my final appeal for my Personal Independence Payment and was again denied. My partner is autistic, and suffers from a host of mental illnesses including PTSD, anxiety, depression, and anorexia. They are also deemed as too sick to work at present by the government.

We are both nonbinary, queer people who are struggling a lot in our current circumstances.

I have an MRI tomorrow to hopefully find out more about what is wrong with me, but I need to try to find some work, because I have negative no money and so does my partner. But I’m too sick to work, though I might be able to more than they can right now.

if anyone can spare anything I would be eternally grateful:

cash app: £ZandraGrace

PayPal.me/panspixie

damn it sucks that PayPal has to deadname me like that

#mutual aid #financial aid #help #queer #trans #nonbinary #nonbinary aid #Queer aid #trans aid #disabled

2 notes · View notes

wahlpaper · 5 months

Text

Cleat Cute Review

Cleat Cute by Meryl Wilsner

CW: Internalized Ableism, Vomit, Described Sex, Drinking in Excess, Swearing, Injury Recovery, Money Problems, Sports Violence, Panic Attacks, Medical Transphobia

5/5

Put a red-haired woman on the cover of a queer book and I'm so there. The cover of Meryl Wilsner's Cleat Cute was all I needed to ask my library to get the audiobook. In middle school, I played midfield in soccer. I don't remember much beyond the basics of the sport and haven't picked up much since. I have enjoyed soccer romance stories like Bend it Like Beckham, but it's no longer the special interest it was in middle school. Essentially, I wasn't looking for a romance in it. This novel appeared on some list I saw about upcoming books and it caught my eye. I could tell it would be a romcom that was sweet and light in tone, the kind of story I struggle to put down.

Phoebe Matthews is a rookie in professional soccer, but she gets drafted to the best team in the country right out of college. She has her sights set on joining the National Team Roster next. It's a World Cup year, and Phoebe's team captain, Grace Henderson, is doing her best to look forward to it. It's hard for her to do when she's lost her excitement for the whole profession. Phoebe is full of energy and passion, but not just for soccer. She feels this way about Grace too. Will the women getting close to each other be enough to change their lives for the better? Or will they find out they aren't being honest with themselves?

At first, I thought the writing was a bit simple, but I was quickly sucked in by the characters, the plot, and the setting. Some issues were resolved a little too easily, and I felt that the POV broke its unofficial rules sometimes. These issues were minor when looking at the book as a whole. Wilsner is great at world-building, having created a fully-realized version of Women's Soccer that works as a nice alternative to what we have in real life. I don't get visual thoughts, but I understood the physical settings being used in the books. While there are two MCs, Cleat Cute utilizes a full cast of characters. All of them felt fleshed-out, interesting, and distinguishable from each other. I will absolutely be reading more of Wilsner's books if they're anything like this one.

One thing that surprised me in Cleat Cute was the neurodivergent representation. I didn't find this book on a list of autistic books or ADHD books, so I had no idea it would be a central part of the story. Phoebe has undiagnosed ADHD, which is an important part of her arc. Grace's sister has it, which means that Grace is coming from an understanding and respectful place when she talks about the disorder with Phoebe. As for Grace, it is mostly suggested through traits that she is autistic but undiagnosed. It's only directly referenced in her thoughts once, though. I do wish the narrative had spent as much time on Grace's neurodivergence as it did with Phoebe’s, but I do have other books for that. Either way, I felt autistic joy reading about both Phoebe and Grace living their queer soccer star lives while also getting to be their full selves by the end.

Being realistic to the sport, Cleat Cute has a lot of queer characters in it. Lesbians, a bi woman, a non-binary goalie, and Phoebe's trans brother are all featured in the story. The author, Wilsner, is non-binary and writes their characters from an experienced and loving place. Being a professional soccer player can come with a bit of time in the spotlight. While this makes Grace uncomfortable, she wonders if she should use it to be there for other lesbians. Cleat Cute does a great job of expressing why it's important for famous people to come out while also reminding everyone that consent is necessary. Every celebrity that comes out makes the world a little safer, but it'll never be worth it for them to do something they aren't comfortable with.

Cleat Cute by Meryl Wilsner is a great queer sports book for those who want that in a New Adult novel. It's a light and easy read with great representation. If you're a foodie, into soccer, or a fan of New Orleans, this book will be especially enjoyable for you! Join Phoebe and Grace as they prepare for the soccer season and try to navigate their feelings!

#meryl wilsner #cleat cute #book blog #bookblogger #queer books #queer characters #wlw #romcom book #nonbinary author #lesbian romcom #neurodivergent books #adhd main character #autistic love interest #bend it like beckham

2 notes · View notes

k--havok · 6 months

Text

So the other day at my therapist appt I was telling her how I cannot finish anything to save my life (except, like... cooking and work-related things) and how, especially when it comes to my writing, its just incredibly frustrating.

The thing is, it really does frustrate me when it comes to writing. But it also affects everything else in my life; from doing chores and cleaning things to other hobbies. It's hard for me to get started, and even when I start, I cannot seem to finish things.

(and I say this as I type this next to a pile of folded laundry on my couch that needs to be put away. It would not take long to put it away. Maybe 10 minutes. But alas.)

Now I do not have a/d/h/d. But I have many symptoms of it and unfortunately it has been incredibly difficult for me to get help for my symptoms as doctors, therapists, and others insist I should get tested again and want to prescribe me pills I do not want to take.

But. Finally. It took over 2 years, but I have finally found a therapist and professional who sees that I am struggling and instead of putting me into a box and slapping a label on me, is getting to the root cause.

I don't usually talk about it much, but I don't have a/d/h/d because I have a T/B/I. And it affects everything.

Anyways, it's not just a motivation barrier that stops me from doing and finishing things. I'm great at stopping things when I am about 3/4s the way through or almost done with something and then just not picking it up again and not finishing it.

Sure, things I hate end up here. Like the folded laundry. But it affects my WIPs. It affects me when I try and play most video games (except online/live games). It affects TV shows, reading, painting, art, and even my weight-loss has been sabotaged by this. I have been working on getting down to a healthy weight for years now and have stopped at 10-15lbs from my goal weight. I'm not platueing. I know what I need to do. I just stopped those healthy good habits and now cannot pick them back up. It's bizarre.

I've known I'm neurodivergent for a long time but it was always something I read other people talk about and listen to. I never really used the word for myself and never had other people, from doctors to friends, also use the word for me. It's either all about pills and definite treatment options from the professionals. And from friends in the past, it was always a pissing contest about how they have it so much worse. (Who can take the most pills, go to the most dr appointments, who needs to be hospitalized, who has the most diagnoses, both real and self-dxed... etc.)

For the first time though, my therapist used it to describe what I was going through. And it felt... I dunno. Like I'm not faking things. Like my struggles actually matter. That I did not have to be put in a box and told that since I do not have X there is nothing to do about Y and Z symptoms. The first answer, for once, wasn't pills. Which was nice.

Anyways, the reason I am posting this long-winded, rambling post onto my writeblr blog and not my personal is, for the first time, I do not feel guilty for not finishing things. I got the dopamine release from working on the journey, which is my favorite part. I like working on things and being busy. If I come to a stopping point, if I finish, then the most fun part of writing for me--the actual writing--is at a stopping point. And then I have to do what I don't like to do much, which is edit.

For years, I called it writer's block. But that was never really what it was. Because I know what happens next. I know what I want to write. I just could not get my fingers to the keyboard.

I still don't have an exact word or phrase to describe why I cannot finish things. But now I know what it stems from, know why I perform this behavior, and know tricks to get around this part of myself to start being able to finish things.

I want to finish the first novella of Soft Touches, Godless Hands by the end of this year. Maybe it'll happen. maybe not. But I am tired of comparing myself to others and punishing myself for not living up to my own expectations.

I jump around to different WIPs not just because I like to have a different flavor of the week, but to keep things fresh. Interesting. To try different things. Because I love trying new things. Another important factor of my life that affects everything.

It may make my projects and blog harder to follow, that is true. But I write for myself first and foremost. My blog is a way to organize thoughts and jot down quick headcanons and flesh out my stories.

As long as I can follow along to what I am doing, that's all that matters.

#long post #shutuplanx #about me #personal

2 notes · View notes

the-collector-blog · 2 years

Text

a thought about community's ben chang that i've had many times: all the things he goes through are made out to seem ridiculous and absurd. the same goes for the greendale campus, but some of what happens to chang specifically is actually...kinda realistic once you think about it in the context of him being [probably schizophrenic but either way definitely] severely mentally ill. full commentary under the cut.

[disclaimers - this is: informed by my own experiences and by those of ppl in my life // not necessarily the case for everyone // not coming from an expert; i haven't purposefully done much research into soul crushing, hope depleting statistics // not to say he is a good person and only his illness caused him to do horrible things (he is awful regardless lol) // not to say that the show 1) intentionally wrote these things to be realistic, 2) portrayed him in a good way, or 3) was not ableist.]

anyways. homelessness, legal trouble/imprisonment, unemployment, and the struggle to maintain relationships are disproportionately experienced by mentally ill people.

it seems like his life just snowballs into complete absurdity after his wife kicked him out. but like, i feel like it's so hard to get back to normality especially when you're predisposed to mental illness. he got worse as his life became less stable, which makes a lot of sense.

you're doing relatively alright, you have a home and a partner/person- but then that relationship falls apart. you lose that support and some of your resources. where do you even go? you may start to struggle at work (if you're employed) as your life and mental health issues get worse. things are uncertain. (in extreme/unfortunate cases, this can lead to big episodes and/or legal trouble etc. chang's psychosis did.)

these things really can snowball, and often, you don't just find your way again soon and get back on your feet. if things fall apart in your life, and you don't have the support/help you need, you may not come back from that anytime soon. (in some cases:) mental illness + loss of primary support + lack of necessary resources and treatment = sh*t goes downhill.

(obv there's also ableism, racism and other factors that can raise the chances of these things happening. chang is not only neurodivergent but chinese. etc. it all ties together.) (just felt worth noting)

38 notes · View notes

brbabcseu · 9 months

Note

What are some fun facts about AJ and his friends? They look like a fun group!

Leighanne w ur permission I am kissing u in glee

I got fun facts ABOUND

They're a very fun group! Jesse's never had complaints abt them, he thinks they're all good kids. They all got their own troubles and have their moments, especially around high school, but they're kids yk? Jesse is happy to have them under his roof if they ever need an escape or a vent or what-have-you. He WOULD love it if they could keep it the hell down after 10 pm though.

Damien is the newest initiate to the group. He's a sophomore when AJ and the other three enter their freshman year. Damien got to know Maya first through extracurriculars-- he runs track and Maya figures skates! They'd hang out after their respective practices and listen to podcasts while waiting for their parents to pick them up. AJ has a huuuuge crush on Damien and everyone teases him abt it... idk I love Damien so much he's such a goober!! V much one of those kids who "acts cool" bc he's always so chill and can easily run in more popular crowds but he's not a douche, he's actually v affable, if not a little too apolitical when it comes to disagreements + drama amongst the teens. Guess he's afraid it'll make his persona less neutral, and the idea of not being able to be friends with every different clique makes him feel insecure :(

Axel is overly boisterous, moderately annoying, and incredibly funny. Will Say and Do things just to see what happens. Rule of thumb: if it provokes their group to throw proverbial tomatoes at him, he's commiting to whatever that bit is. Likes to keep the energy up and the conversation flowing, otherwise he gets too anxious (he deals with a lot of tough things internally) and his friends remind him to relax once and a while, he doesn't always have to be so On around them. Close with all of them but has a special bond with Maya; AJ coming in close second.

Maya is sunshine incarnate. She always has a way to find things beautiful. If her life isnt going to inherently be like an indie film then she's going to MAKE it like one!! And she makes it look effortless to boot. Lover of all thing doodle-y, poetry, and podcast-y. Doesn't always matter the subject; admittedly though, she has a hard time focusing on something full through. If the name or thumbnail interests her she goes "sure hell yeah" and follows it lol. Her and Ax's respective neurodivergencies fit together very well. Her and Sam love to brag about their "boy-free" outings in front of the three guys and will usually team up when everyone else is being annoying. Maya considers AJ her sweet angel baby boy and would carry him around in her pocket if she could. She lovingly gave him the nickname "AppleJack" 🥹

Sam's been around the longest. A very level head in the group, a grounding force. She knew AJ since they were in diapers so they're essentially siblings. This is evident in how they treat each other; they'll whack one another over the head w a pillow and call each other a dumbass with EASE but also be ride or die till the end. The two can share one look and burst out laughing, super silly and goofy!! Sam's mom, Eliza, is a recovering alcoholic and has been slowly but surely putting her life together while Jesse's friend and local foster mom Delilah has taken care of Sam on and off throughout the years. Eliza is good people; her and Jesse are kindred spirits. So, meeting her and seeing her as a fellow struggling parent with a history of addiction, he vouched for her a lot and tried helping her out with housing and finding work while she was at her lowest. There were a lot of playdates, so Jesse's seen Sam grow up. He was there for all her school events, helped with all the birthdays, just as he did with AJ. A lot of that connection goes unsaid-- so it hit Jesse like a freight train when one day a 12 year old Sam approaches him and very casually hands him a father's day card. "You're not my dad but you are A dad, and a good one. I never met my own real dad so thanks for being there instead," the card read. She has to watch her smirk and keep from rolling her eyes and says, "Ah, you don't gotta cry about it!" when Jesse gets that 🥺🥹 look on his face. Despite being as prickly as her mom, she accepts his bear hug and tells him she loves him. The card is still on his dresser.

Doodles!!! Respectively: Sam receiving aforementioned bear hug, Maya and Damien hanging out, and Sam and AJ at their most affectionate

#bookofmajora #mutuals #ask #tysm!!!!!!#alaska crew #i know like i KNOW im very annoying abt my ocs and wanting to talk abt them so ty for when u guys do indulge me fr #mfa

3 notes · View notes

cl0udpup · 1 year

Text

Big sigh

*Still figuring out moving over from Twitter to Tumblr, but for now, I'm just gonna flush out my threads here and see how that goes...*

Anxiety dreams

I had disturbing, surreal, End Of The World, running from cops, moving through portals, being broke and homeless, anxiety dreams all morning. Woke up with my neck stiff and swollen for the second day in a row, exhausted. I took a rapid last night, came out negative, but it's hard to trust testing now with new variants. I have allergy shots in an hour, and I really don’t wanna go, but I’m afraid of what will happen if I miss it. Last time I missed a week, I suffered with extreme hives and asthma symptoms.

...

I did it

I went to the shot. Still feeling like shit. Still testing negative for c19.

I’ve been staying up late the past few nights, so I’m sure that doesn’t help. Winter is really tough on my body (and mind.) The dry air makes my skin swell up, and I get all tense and hot. I couldn't manage to wear a coat outside, even though it's 30 degrees out, because it makes it so much worse once I go inside. They keep the hospital sooo warm.

I need to get a humidifier running in my office, but this room is like 80 sq ft, so I'm concerned about where it will go, it getting knocked over, or the water getting on my computer. I have cords allll over the floor bc I have no idea how to do cord management. But yeah, my sinuses are so incredibly dry and swollen, which is causing this headache I'm sure, and probably the stiff neck.

Adderall

Enough complaining... In more interesting news, today is my first day on Adderall, 10 mg XR. I'm not sure if I'm supposed to feel anything. I was feeling shitty *before* taking it, so all those symptoms above are unrelated. Although, if this causes any similar symptoms, not sure if I'll be able to tell it apart.

I guess one thing I noticed this morning; it was less excruciating waiting the 30 minutes required to stay at the hospital after my allergy shot. Usually I set a timer, check it exasperatingly every few minutes, pacing and sighing, literally feel like I'm being tortured waiting lol. It usually feels like an hour even tho it’s only half. I have no idea if the med could be helping with that restlessness so soon, but. Worth noting I suppose.

Trauma effects everything

I met with the new psychiatrist who prescribed it on Monday. She asked all the typical intake type questions, and went over my initial survey from the ADHD assessment. Again, the ADHD assessment really was not specific to ADHD, other than the awful computer button clicking bullshit test thing they made me do.

We only talked for around 45 minutes, but she gave me her opinion that she thinks I don't have bipolar. She thinks my hypomanic symptoms and mood swings/cycling were caused by trauma. Who’s to say, really. Trauma effects everything.

I have found I don’t always fit the mold for clinical diagnoses for conditions my symptoms point to. I especially don't fit them forever. Resilience has to be taken into account; learning skills, figuring out accommodations, medication, change of life circumstance.

However, I have, and do (based on past episodes) meet the criteria for bipolar 2, whether the assessment is nuanced enough to give a "correct" answer. Of course, diagnoses are more or less a matter of opinion.

I was also diagnosed with "unspecific mood disorder" & put on mood stabilizers (bipolar meds) as a young teen.

Some of my earliest memories are of being totally overwhelmed emotionally. I remember having what I now know of as anxiety in elementary school. I was officially diagnosed with depression and anxiety at age 12.

So what is it?

That's the question I've been searching for the answer for my entire life. Wtf is wrong with me, lol. I know trauma, neurodivergence, and the way those two play off each other must be at the root of everything.

Ultimately, all these sprinkles of symptoms make up an actual person, my actual life experiences, my struggles, my disabilities. I don't think it's simple enough to just slap a diagnosis on me and call it a day.

I know SSNI medication has helped me immensely in taking all the chaotic energy inside myself, and dampening down my viciously strong emotions. Before meds, I felt totally out of control. I felt I had no control over the insanity. My mood swings and sensory overwhelm thrashed me around like I was on a broken rollercoaster, ready to fly off the tracks at any moment.

BPD

Before starting trauma work, I fit the diagnosis for borderline. Leaving an abusive relationship, learning about attachment disorders, and understanding more about being neurodivergent helped me grow into a person who could have healthy relationships, and stop hurting myself.

Graduating from a DBT program when I was 18 helped as well, but looking back, the most helpful part was being part of a community. Sharing 8 hours a week with other traumatized teens, forming bonds, being vulnerable and supporting each other. That's what helped.

We never even talked about trauma as a force of destruction. We mostly learned how to channel our thoughts and behaviors into something less visibly disruptive and damaging.

We weren't validated and told "something awful happened to you, and it wasn't your fault, and it's not your fault that it made you hate yourself so much you want to destroy yourself and everything around you." I think we really needed that. I know I still need to hear that.

Chaos

I'm 30 now, and I still am no where near having all the answers. Finding the ADHD piece of the puzzle definitely puts a lot into perspective, but I don't know if it can account for everything. I do have hopes for medicating it.

My 20's were so chaotic. I had no idea if I would survive to where I am now. That being said, I made a lot of decisions that helped me survive when I needed to, things I said I'd deal with the consequences of later, and, later has finally caught up to me.

I used spending as a coping mechanism. I channeled a lot of my chaotic energy into work over the past decade. Before my body started shutting down on me, I worked alll the time, and made decent money. I bought into the whole credit score thing, got a bunch of credit cards, and maxed them all out. Yes, having a credit history helped me get things I needed, but mental illness put me in this mindset of "I'm probably gonna die soon, so I should just get what will make me happy right now."

Knowing now that I have ADHD, so much of this makes sense. I struggle with things like feeding myself, cleaning, staying on track, completing tasks, all the executive function bullshit. So, I've driven myself into debt buying things I thought could help me "get my life together."

Can't get myself to eat enough to not trigger a mood episode? I'll just order take out or go to the cafe every day. Can't keep the house from being a total mess? I'll buy every cleaning and organizing tool imaginable that might help inspire me to bring necessary order to my surroundings. Same thing for exercising, self care, literally just existing, I always thought if I could "just" find the right solution, all my problems would disappear and I could catch up to my peers who perpetually left me in the dust.

Don't even get me started on the spending sprees I've gone on in response to depression and suicidality. Feel like dying because understimulated? Let's book a trip for me and a companion where I'll pay for everything because I want to be loved. Feel like dying because overstimulation? Let's buy things to self soothe. It's a mess.

And so, life goes on

Now, this year, when I have my head on straight, and am no longer crushed and suffocated by abuse, or distracted by partying, my health took a nose dive. I have hardly been able to work at all this year. I've always been concerned with my ill health, but now more than ever I've been forced to focus on it solely. I'm committed. The only place I go these days is to appointments; three a week: therapy, allergy injections, and acupuncture.

I so desperately want to get my life together, once and for all. I truly hope I'm on the right track. All I can do is trust this is what I'm supposed to do.

#actually disabled #disability #depression #anxiety #adhd #actually adhd #neurodivergent #actually neurodivergent #bipolar #bpd #mentally ill #mental illness #follow me im new here #thanks for reading

3 notes · View notes