#get the fuck out of here with your intro to white womens studies shit
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I'm Scareoused
Media Lewis The Mind Has Mountains
Character Adam Douglas
Couple Adam X reader
Rating Sweet Af + Flirty
Concept Dream Woman
I sat in the study room while max was working on his stuff from his Modernisum intro,
"How's stuff with Lillian?"
"Hum?" I asked as I had kinda drifted off a little
"Lillian?" He asked
"Ohh gone."
"Gone?" he laughed
"Yeah gone, I fucked her off"
"why?"
"she was bugging me, too clinging all the damn time. I couldn't even go to my classes without her being attached to my damn hip"
"Fair enough"
"what about Sally?"
"Gone," I shrug
"Alice?"
"I think we both know the answer"
"Gone?"
"yep"
"Amy?"
".... Well"
"Gone?"
"Yep"
"You don't have the best luck with women do you adam?"
"I don't like most girls, every girl I go on a date with I find out something later I don't like." I explained
"There is this thing called compromise?"
"why? If I'm not into it I'm not into it"
"Yeah but you can't dump every girl you date once you find something you don't like about them you could overlook it if you really like them?"
"I likely could but I just, never liked anyone that much"
"Okay so...."
"so?"
"If I was in a lab"
"Oh god. Max nothing good starts in a lab"
"Just hear me out"
"if I could make you... like the perfect woman."
"I don't want a robot"
"No, Just... work with me here Adam"
"You're not going to glare at me are you?"
"I mean I might. if your into weird shit"
"Okay" I sighed "If I could design the perfect woman. She'd be... the kinda girl that would rather sit in our dorm and watch horror movies the go out dancing, the kinda girl who's dream date is like going to a old listed building like the manor houses and huge gardens across the UK, The kinda girl who's seen stephen king movies, more then just the shinning and It stuff like maximum overdrive and The pet cemetery the original, The Kinda girl who walks around with gothic classics in her handbag, The kinda girl with tattoos and Cool witch nails, Coloured hair and vampire lipstick, the kinda girl who wants a movie on Marry shell's life. The kinda girl who loves time Burton but thinks nightmare before Christmas is overrated as fuck, Who knows like everyword to a dark musical like phantom or heathers, someone who just wants to cuddle on an autumnal night and watch true crime with me"
"..... uhhhhhhhhh"
"Go on. shame me I'll take it"
"I think you want a goth chick"
"No. I don't like goth chicks"
"..... don't you?"
"No goth chicks take like six hours doing the crazy intricate make up and getting crazy body mods and death metal music, I want a.... alternative girl."
"Hu"
"what?"
"I... you know how they say when you like vocalize things they happen"
"Yeah?" I asked as I looked up at him he sat looking out the study room door wide-eyed he simply pointed out the door so I turned in my seat and immediately saw what he meant.
outside the door was of course most of the other srtufy rooms many of which shut up tightly with the large bank of vending machines full of monster, red bull, cheetos and other snacks for the average uni kid and at said vending machines was... her
She- she was beautiful.
As if someone went into my mind and picked out my fantasy and dropped her into reality,
She had these slightly heeled black combat boots, these grey glaxay leggings, a black and white stripped crop top, a sweet purple pinafore dress with a front chest pocket with an embrioided cat face, a back pack with bat wings and a little needle hand keychain similar to the one from coraline, she had a this black hair dip died purple, this sweet make up not to much make up so much you could see her freckles but this beautiful vintage red lipstick, she was kicking the vending machine as it had took her money and not given her whatever snack she had selected, she was mad kicking the machine until a few bags of chips fell but even then she wasn't happy
"Gimme my magic stars!" she yelled
"Speak and it shall appear" Max laughed
"Yeah." I nodded
"How you feeling?" he asks
"I'm scareoused."
"You're what?"
"Scared. and aroused."
"scared?"
"That she just magically appeared like that"
"and aroused?"
"Becuase she is literally my fantasy. Like.... I came to that last night"
"Cool. what are you gonna do about it?"
"I'm going to see where she magically came from. and see if I can also cum to that tonight"
"I mean either way your going to"
"I will but its weather to not she's involved really" I shrug grabbing my bag and heading out into the corridor where she was still beating up the machine "Hey"
"Hi" she says as she worked
"Uhh its okay this machines a dick I'll pay it'll always come out on the second rotation" I offered getting some cash from my wallet putting it in the machine for her and getting her the magic stars she wanted infact the whole row came off due to her violet kicking off the machine
"Thanks." she smiled getting on her knees to load up her backpack so I moved down too to help her "Here you can take this stuff" she smiled giving me the other snacks that had come down from her kicking
"Thanks, Adam" I smiled
"Y/n"
"I uhh I've not seen you around before? whats your major?"
"Creative writing."
"Really? I uhh I'm a classic literature"
"Ohh, classic boy" she smiled "I pop into your guys lectures sometimes they inspire me"
"Do they?" I smiled "Uhh y/n would it be imposing? if maybe I asked... for your number?"
"Yeah?"
"yeah"
"why?"
"So maybe you and me could... organize and maybe go see that new conjuring movie?"
"sure" she smiled grabbing her phone from her handbag a large but battered phone in a black spell book case with a voodoo doll head handing off like a phone charm we traded numbers and she smiled "But I'm not to bothered about the new conjuring, but have you seen that new slasher yet?"
"what Bodybag four?"
"Yeah!"
"No no I've been wanting to go for ages"
"well maybe we'll organize that instead I'll handle the snacks" she smiled
"Yeah that sounds great"
"Good, I'll text you" she smiled "see you around adam" she says getting up and heading out
"see ya y/n, I'll text you later!"
"You better" she smiled heading out the doors
"so?" Max laughed as he had been watching all that
"I belive I may be in love"
"may?"
"shut up max"
#lewis#Adam#Adam Douglas#adamdouglas#tbs#tbs smutty#tbs smut#tbs sex#TBS Imagine#tbs imagines#thomas sangster#thomas brodie sangster#thomas sangster imagine#thomas#thomassangster#thomas brodie sangster i#thomas brodie sangster imagine#thomas broide sangster imagine#thomas brodie sangster smut#thomas sangster smut#thomas sangster x reader#thomas sangser imagine#thomas smut
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( courtney eaton / demi girl ) LUNDY VICENTE is 22 years old and is a JUNIOR at thales university. SHE is majoring in WOMEN’S STUDIES and is known for being THE JAILBIRD as HER can be RESILIENT and SCHEMING as well as HOTHEADED and AGGRESSIVE. every time i see HER, SHE reminds me of THE DEEP END OF A SWIMMING POOL, TITLEFIGHT LYRICS, SLEEPING ON A FULL SIZED MATTRESS. ( amanda / 23 / she/her / mst )
hey guys its amanda the raven mun. like this to validate me thanks *winks*
NAME: lundy b vicente
AGE: 22
BIRTH DATE: november 19th 1998
ZODIAC: sagittarius sun, leo moon
SEXUAL ORIENTATION: bisexual / biromantic
FINANCIAL CLASS: lower
HOMETOWN: kissimmee, florida
EDUCATION LEVEL: junior studying women’s studies
FACE CLAIM: courtney eaton
ADDICTION(S): nicotine
DRUG USE: frequent
ALCOHOL USE: frequent
POSITIVE TRAITS: self-reliant, confident, risk-taking
NEGATIVE TRAITS: vulgar, violent, selfish
BACKGROUND - triggers: prostitution, child neglect, incarceration
as she would put it, lundy was born to a crackwhore mom and never knew her dad. the earliest years of her life were certainly happy, allbeit delusionally so. by the age of five the girl had the local streets memorized, running rampant with her friends through parking lots and swimming in motel pools. while her mother used alternative means to earn money and occupied their single bedroom with the company many suitors, young lundy became independent, and aware of the harsh realities of the real world on her own.
before long, cps caught word of the less than ideal living conditions that the child was living in, and got involved. ultimately she ended up in the foster system after a brutal custody battle between her mother and the state.
though she lived in a variety of homes around the state of florida, some good, some not so good, lundy ended up stuck in a home for troubled girls. the system threatened to chew her up and spit her back out, but self-reliance had made her testy around authority figures.
her thirteenth birthday was spent during the first of many bouts in juveinial detention, but she took to the facility well. like a school she reined over, lundy actually found herself getting into trouble just so she could return. the highlights of her teen years mostly consisted of fighting, fucking, and making the other kids in juvy all around just as miserable as she was.
once she turned eighteen, lundy was contacted by her father’s family. he lived in virginia, and offered her a place to stay as she tried to “get back on her feet”, seeing how he himself had done some time and knew the feeling. it didn’t take long for lundy to decide that family life wasn’t for her, so she began applying to colleges in hopes to live on campus.
PERSONALITY - triggers: violence
it should come as no surprise to anyone familiar with lundy that she was kicked out of her most recent housing situation over the summer. the police were called after a neighbor reported a domestic disturbance, only to find that lundy had beaten one of her roommates bloody and blacked out. though she claims she had a reason --- he was creepy! the feds didn’t give much of a shit about that, and there is a pending court case. she is also living with her dad again, working to repay him for her bail fund, and waiting to be contacted further. she most certainly should NOT be indulding in partying, or any reckless sort of behavior, but that goes against her very identity.
when you actually have lundy on your side, she’s a force to be reckoned with. ride or die, type of person, but she struggles to find people who actually wish to become close enough to her for that. at this point, it doesn’t bother her that others find her offputing. her sense of humor is an acquired taste, and she’ll certainly say what’s on her mind, but perhaps that may seem refreshing? to some people? maybe?
lundy is rather loud, just when she speaks, and LOVES digging into other people’s business. she is incredibly impulsive and will always support bad decisions. she’s deliberate, though never planned, and tactless. the type to hurt your feelings on accident AND on purpose, depending on the day. in general, she is silly. a maniac really
RANDOM SHIT
she plays bass. picked it up whens he moved to virginia. she’s just a rock chick!
proud marxist but i don’t recommend bring it up to her. she’s been kicked out of many classes due to this
as far as gender goes, lundy has always felt “female enough” but certainly has a more adrogynous energy about her. wears a lot of baggy clothes and backwards hats. has been called a lesbian since before she can remember, but kind of took on that persona and made her something she’s proud of
sleeps most comfortably in small spaces. prefers her full sized mattress to anything bigger
constantly makes the jacking off motion when other people are talking
has this love you tattoo on her hairline a la her at the time girlfriend and this tattoo on her hand
loves a good video game session (aka not talking to anyone for 72 hours unless it’s through playstation)
loves a good handwritten letter, will even get romantic about it sometimes
likes fucking menthol cigarettes
always leaving the house with her hair wet like girl why???????? also loves to swim
had a gay boyfriend once. the only boyfriend she ever had. it lasted like a week asdfsdf
based on: young aleida ( oitnb ), moonee ( the florida project ), spinelli ( recess ), jayden ( short term 12 ), donna ( that 70s show )
WANTED CONNECTIONS
a band?????? this is so so so up for whatever ideas anyone else has but she’s definitely always wanted to be in a band and has the charisma for it. need anyone else who plays an instrument other than bass or sings
half siblings???????? they would have to be at least half white, because her dad is white.
exes ?? (f/nb) of literally any sort. she was probably a very fleetingly romantic gf. she’d be like here is a love note i made u but also we’re breaking up tomorrow.
someone she’s beat up?????????
honestly i can’t think of anything all that specific anymore my brain always runs out of juice at the fucking end of writing intros like this. i really just want literally any connection dude hit that mf LIKE button
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Recovery
Chapter one (prolonged)
Intro
According to Greek mythology, the first humans were created with four arms, four legs, four eyes, two noses and two mouths.Fearing of their power, Zeus split them in half, leaving them spend the rest of their lives searching for the other missing half.This kind of creatures were named soulmates.
I am one of the many others who believe in the concept of soulmates.I believe for each pot there is a lid and that is basically that.
However this legend is interesting and you can find it in many other cultures. Therefore knowing the legend I have asked myself many times, where is my other half and if the legend is true i why i haven’t met them in my 23 years of life, or have i?
I must admit life is tough and no matter how many times we tell ourselves that we are better off alone , I know that at the end of the day no matter if we are happy or sad and no matter how many people we are surrounded by, it’s nice to know that we have that special person who will never get tired of us.That person to whom we want to rant about the good and the bad things that happened to us the that day and what we ate and how we feel.A person who will always be there for us and stay loyal to us, love and respect us in sickness and in health.Is it possible to find a person like that nowadays or is it only a phenomenon ?
For many people luxury would be a a huge mansion, five cars, diamonds and pearls, servants, three bank accounts, private planes and more, however money does not make you happy, even richest people in the world would give everything up just to have love and happiness with a special person
Chapter one
It all began on Christmas eve.The most joyfull time of the year, when magic happens and Christmas spirit is in the air.Randomly i found myself lurking through the Fleetwood mac section in the CD store dowtown.Finally i found the CD I’ve been waiting for the last three months “Fleetwood mac rumours ”, to me personally it was the best CD that was ever made.I love Fleetwood Mac, I love Stevie Nicks and I love how they never fail to relax me after a stressful day and God knows I’ve been having a lot of those lately.My skin made contact with someone else’s hand as i reached for the only left CD copy of the album.Oh no! NO way I’ve waited for this for too long now.If I’m going to be alone on Christmas eve at least I’m going to be spiritually in the presence of Fleetwood mac.I was faster though.I grabbed the last copy of the CD without any remorse , and turned around to dinigh my business.
“Thanks for that by the way."The guy spoke from behind me
"You have a great taste in music, i got to give you that"He added again just as I was about to turn the corner
"Thank you"I replied without even looking at him.Again i really wanted this album so I didn’t felt any guilt as I basically stole it from his hand.
"That wasn’t a compliment you know"He added
"I-"I forgot what i was about to say as I took a look at him.He was breath takingly gorgeous.Tall, lean, brown hair peaking from beneath the red beanie he wore.His green eyes widened as he saw me.Does he know me from somewhere?
I don’t think so.I would certainly remember him if I saw him anywhere.His plump pink-ish lips opened as if he was about to say something but than he closed his mouth.
This is dumb.We are just staring at each other like two morons who come out from some stupid romantic comedy.
"Sorry.I didn’t mean to…It’s just that I’ve been waiting for them to get this CD for three months now."I replied finally.
"I-It’s fine I already have a copy of it.It was a gift for a friend but i suppose-Nevermind"He looked like he was just caught stealing cookies by his mother on a Christmas eve.
"Again I’m sorry but…"I replied
"It’s fine really.Umm…My name is Harry"He said while coming my way with his hand extended.
"Nice to meet you.Renee"I accepted his cold palm
"Your hand is really warm"Well that made me smile
"Yeah it is"I didn’t know what to say.This is the most handsome, awkward guy I’ve come across in a while and i like it
"You have an accent"He mentioned
"Yeah I’m originally from Croatia."It was funny how small the world is
"I like it.Uh, I’m sorry if I’m weird and shit but would you like to join me for a hot chocolate or coffee”
“I’d like to but I have this thing-"How could possibly get out of this?
"It’s the least you can do to make up to me"He added on a smile.Now i know he was doing the typical guilt card on me but, It’s Christmas and if I go home I’ll be home alone and it’s not like i have the greatest friends in the world to hang out with so it’s not like i didn’t think about walking out in the cold until i get bored or maybe Icould really take a chance.
"Ok"I smiled.His name is Harry and he invited me for a hot drink and I would’ve gone with him even if I had other things to do and he is gorgeous and looks familiar but i am 100% sure I’ve never met him so that’s that.
There was a small restaurant at the corner of the street.The walk there was silent and awkward.It was one of those moments when you really regret agreeing to something, though I caught Harry's stare a few times from the corner of my eye.Now I am not really sure if I should take that as a compliment or if he was just straight off a weirdo.After all he is just a stranger whom I think looks like a Greek God.
Oh lord, should I just text one of my friends or maybe even my parents as to where I'm at?Just in case...
When we got to therestaurant it was warm and we were sat at the table next to the window.The atmosphere was intimate, the light was dim and he was sitting closer than I would've expected him to.Instead of sitting across from me he was sitting right next to me and casually leaning into me when the waiter came to take our order.I never took myself as one of those women who got lost when speaking to some hot guy, but here I was on Christmas eve, sat in a restaurant with some guy who keeps saying something but I cannot understand a word that comes out of his mouth.
"I'm sorry what?"I am so dumb, he must think I'm some lunatic
"You dozed off.Anyway how's the pasta?"Oh right
"It's delicious.Don't you have anywhere else to be Harry?"
"Well, no."Simple as that
"You don't."Again it was awkward
"Tell me about yourself Renee.What are you doing here?You said you were originally from Croatia am I correct?"He asked while taking the white napkin to wipe at the corner of his lips.
"I am studying at the University and part time working at a boutique" He let a small laugh at my answer
"What University?"Oh..I much rather would be at home right now, cuddled up in a bunch of blankets watching some cheesy Christmas movie.
"Seattle University.I'm actually finishing my last year of studies."I said
"What are you studying?"He was looking at me with so much fascination, so much admiration.
"I'm studying English lit."As he was about to say something i started saying
"Listen I gotta go, I'm sorry here"I grabbed my purse quickly and pulled out a hundred dollar bill.It all happened so fast, my head started to spin.Harry was literally so stunned that the moment.Of course he asked what's wrong when i was already out of my chair and when he asked if it was something he did I wish, I wish I had the guts to tell him it's me and not you.To say how sitting next to him made me jump out of my own skin and the awkwardness was too much to handle.
I bet he is a nice guy and I bet I might have seen him someplace but right now I was on the verge of having a panic attack and I couldn't tell him that, so the natural reaction was flight instead of fight.
By the time I was a block down the street I heard my name being yelled.I didn't realize I was running until I saw him running my way.He was trying to catch up with me.Why?What was wrong with this guy?How damaged one must be to go after some stranger after they leave them in the middle of dinner without no further explanation?No, no he is not damaged.He just wants to make sure I'm fine.
"Give me a warning next time you decide to take off like that."I realize he was trying to make a joke but everything I wanted to say was already said in my head, in my mind and nothing came out of my mouth.My throat was tight, and my chest felt like it was going to explode, my lungs burned, but the only question was why the fuck did he case after me?
"I'm sorry, I can't stay I-"For God's sake I couldn't even finish my sentence.
"Fine."He said a bit angrier by now and than and there I wanted to tell him it wasn't his fault but all I did was turn the other way ready to escape from his presence.
"Just at least give me your phone number."He was holding my arm now
"Please"He added while slightly squeezing the top of my jacket sleeve.I wanted to escape, in order to escape I gave him my phone.It was like he knew something was wrong and not a game I was playing.His long fingers were starting to get red as he typed something in my phone until his rang and it was over.He handed me my phone and what happened next was the most unexpected thing anyone ever did to me.He hugged me tight.He hugged me and held me like I was a fuzzy teddy bear.Insted I was not.
Without a word exchanged or a spare glance I started walking the minute he let go of me.
........................
Please let me know what you think of this chapter. XOXO
#harry styles#harry styles fanfiction#harry styles fanfic#one direction#louis tomlinson#louis tomlinson fanfiction#louis tomlinson fanfic#liam payne#liam payne fanfiction#liam payne fanfic#niall horan#niall horan fanfiction#niall horan fanfic#zayn malik#zayn malik fanfiction#zayn malik fanfic#one direction fanfic#fanfiction#harry styles fandom#harry styles fashion#fantiction
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I have a bunch of new followers, so I figured I’d write up a little intro post just to cover some of the basics of... well, me! this is a little more in-depth than my about page, just for those who are curious or want a starting point when sending me a message! I’m not one to be #mysterious; it’s pretty easy to locate me online and I’m okay with that. Feel free to ask any questions! I have few true secrets.
I’m a demigirl/nb/genderq* person who uses she/they pronouns and I’m bisexual! I’m still in the process of coming out in terms of gender but I’m all out and safe with my bisexuality after a nerve-wracking experience with my grandparents (they’re cool w it now after some time). I used to play basketball, soccer, softball, etc. - I still enjoy sports to some extent, though I critique the social repercussions of certain aspects. You can find me @sharkbaitin on most social media sites, that’s my main here.
I am a college student who has a specific interest in media representation, and I’ve used SU as a subject a few times. My most personal interests are in disability studies and indigenous relations since I am both hard of hearing and mixed white/native Iroquois. I am also disabled in other ways, and I’m particularly and personally interested in disability rights and activism as a result.
I am not at all new to fandom culture! I was a fic writer for several years, though I don’t write so much anymore (writing academic papers drains my energy for that sort of thing now). What was my previous fandom? Well, it was Glee. Please do not be condescending about it towards/around me; I owe a lot of my current identity to that wild little trip of a show, for better or worse. Thanks to my limited education, I didn’t know what gay or bisexuality was until I encountered those characters and the people I met as a result of entering that fandom, so. The critical stuff is not new to me, nor is avoiding it.
Before fandom, I was a virtual pet site regular. So I frequented Neopets, Misticpets, Rescreatu, Flight Rising... there are several. Dragonling was my most common username, though I appear to have been removed from at least one of those sites - RIP. I was the youngest volunteer moderator on Rescreatu (I think) for some time, until I was too busy to hold the position. So that’s my Internet history; I’ve seen the best and the worst, from the front lines and behind the scenes (hey, fuck you @ that one pedo I busted). And yet... I still love this platform. I have actually recognized a couple followers from those sites so, uh... hey!
Back to my educational background - I have designed my own major program, which is gender/women/sexuality studies + mass communication + TV/film production. I have worked on a few academic productions, and I’m working on gaining professional experience (though people don’t seem to like that I can’t use traditional headphones). My career goals include: writing a branching choice-based story video game, writing films, writing TV shows, limiting white cis male leads to one or none per story, regardless of where the story ends up. I want to help bring indigenous voices to popular media, of course led by those more involved in those cultures. I love science fantasy (not science fiction so much; I don’t like pretending that the science actually makes sense), fantasy, surrealism, stuff like that. I can’t handle gory/jump-scary stuff.
My personal life? Well, I want several tattoos. I recently got one, and will be getting another at the end of the month (over a few sessions). I have more I want to get, and I enjoy talking about my ideas for them. Uh... I’ve never been in a relationship, nor have I dated anyone. I’m currently looking to do so because I’m bursting with love and affection. I’m crushing hard on someone close to me but I doubt it’d work out. If she looked she’d probably find this post but that’s fine. I’m a Gemini and enjoy reading zodiac posts although I don’t fully believe them. 6/9 (June 9th) is my day of birth. Related: I’m atheistic/agnostic, raised low key Lutheran. I do drink, I don’t smoke. I enjoy going to gay bars more than most things I do; though I’ll really only dance if I’m with the aforementioned crush.
Okay, but what do I like?
---Animation, art, listening to people being passionate about who/what they love, questioning hegemonic structures of oppression, ridiculous memes, sparkling water (I’m sorry), food in general, photography, fireflies, neon signs, northern lights, stargazing, loud rhythmic music, calm gentle music, hanging fan art/art in my room so it inspires me, video editing, spending time with friends both online and offline, s’mores, snow, Bailey’s, quiet moments, comforting moments in softly noisy cafes, concerts when I’m prepared for the people & noise, space, aliens, story-based video games, exploration video games, gay shit, critical thinking, tea, cuddling, meeting new people when I’m ready for it, electronic music when I listen to it through my Bluetooth (it sounds incredible in bone-conduction hearing aids holy shit), desserts, fruit, hugs.... honestly I’m a big supporter of openly loving and enjoying things so there’s a lot.
Feel free to ask me about any of the above, including: my experience as hard of hearing, my thoughts on fandom culture, what I think about intersectionality, my... honestly, anything. Tell me about your favorite thing about SU, about animation, about your favorite person, anything and I’ll pay attention when I can! And if I say/do anything that sincerely bothers you, please contact me about it first.
I have plenty of stories to tell, so if you don’t mind me rambling about myself, feel free to ask. (I do my best not to talk only about myself in most cases, but having an outlet to just ramble helps.)
If you read all this, wow, you’re pretty incredible. Love ya, and I hope you have a good day!
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hey guys, so this is gonna be a long ass post, but here’s the tldr version: i love you and i hope you continue to learn about yourselves, and advocate for your mental wellbeing cause y'all are literally so beautiful and important and an integral part of our universe, the world literally wouldn’t be the same without you ✊🏾💕
SO, i just wanted to let y'all know that if you’ve ever messaged me (and this is for my black followers, btw, the rest of y'all … i don’t know why tf you’re here, but none of this is for you so ✌🏾bye, you can leave lol) please please know that i almost always read whatever’s in my inbox right away, and that i do care about your questions and what you have to say, even when i don’t answer right away or at all. you guys reaching out to me is NEVER bothersome. NEVER dumb. NEVER ridiculous. and tbh, it’s always flattering to think anyone would come to me w/ mental health concerns, considering that this blog literally started as a place for me to just vent out into the void & that i used to block anyone that followed me, lol.
(i jus didn’t want people to follow my blog ??? idk, i just felt like i had no other outlet to scream, and i was in a really bad place back then, idek, it made sense at the time. anyway, NOW this blog is a place for me to store information, affirmations and links to resources that i find informative or helpful. and i actually really love getting feedback (cough and validation cough) from you guys 💖 so pls, just know that you mean a lot to me.)
THE THING IS, though: i’m still not a professional. and when it comes to something as serious as mental health (especially in the black community) i just feel like i still have too much learning to do and too much healing to do before i’m qualified to offer any real advice. rn, all i have to say to most of y'all is ‘damn, thas unfortunate, me too’ and i really don’t want to give anyone a half assed answer like that, lol. it might take me a while to research what you wanna know, so yeah. bls be patient with me.
also i kinda wanted to introduce myself, since i don’t think i’ve ever posted an intro on this blog lol:
in summary, i’m a twenty one year old black girl, gay as hell, still living at home, still unemployed, still on leave from college, and still struggling just to shower and get out of bed every day :)) which sucks and i hate my life rn and i battle with like, intense self hatred cause a lot of my family is very disappointed in me and, quite frankly, i’m very disappointed with myself.
moving on, lol, more about my mental state: i’ve only ever been professionally diagnosed with depression and gad, though i personally believe i experience too many bpd symptoms to rule out the possibility that i am, in fact, borderline, and so i consider myself as such.
(( a small rant about that real quick: imo, and tbh, labels are just terms that researchers make up to help organize studies, keep track of patterns, and come up with plans and solutions to help large groups of people. so, basically, i am a strong advocate of NOT beating yourself up too much when it comes to finding the ‘right’ label for you and NOT attacking someone else that you don’t think ‘fits’ the description for a disorder or illness according to your research. like, yeah, fake ass neurotypicals are annoying as hell and they can all choke but ! the only person who really knows what’s going on in someone’s brain is that person themselves. and NO ONE owes you a dissertation on their mental struggles just to ‘prove’ they’re in pain. so, imo !!! it’s just a lot more important to recognize and identify what SYMPTOMS you struggle with, and the severity of said symptoms, and worry about umbrella terms later !! cause that insight will make it easier to look for help and advice and !! mental illness and personality disorders are all on a spectrum. so yeah. go easy on yourselves 💕 anyway, i struggled a lot with that concept, and for far too long, SO just wanted to get that out of the way before i continue (hope that made any sense) but i digress!!! ))
i also struggle with both intrusive and suicidal thoughts, a few minor self destructive habits, and i’m currently taking medication for my depression and anxiety. and tbh, though i still have some pretty terrible days, i will say the meds have helped a LOT. and i’m so glad, cause i’m the first in my family to openly take medication for a mental illness (stigma stigma god fucking stigma) and i was so so scared the meds would just make it worse, but they didn’t, so yeah :)
also, and this is a bit personal (but i’m willing to be a bit vulnerable with you guys, if it’ll help anyone at all) but, i planned on killing myself last year. it didn’t happen (evidently lol) but i ended up staying at the hospital for a week and then participating in a two week partial program after that. i’m currently looking for a new partial program or support group that i can join, and i’m trying to get a job and get back to school.
also, i have been seeing a therapist since my senior year of high school (which !!is a bit of a wild tale tbh, but long story short, my parents literally refused to believe mental illness was a real thing for the longest time. and it wasn’t until i told them i literally wouldn’t graduate high school if i didn’t get some help that they believed me.) my first two therapists were awful racist white women (still fuckin hate them btw) but my third therapist was a really cool white woman who actually introduced me to my current therapist who is this really amazing black woman and so far, i feel like she’s been the best fit for me. but i’ve very recently had to put my therapy sessions on pause cause i’m poor as hell and couldn’t pay for them anymore, so yeah. and, tbh, that’s really been stressing me the fuck out as of late, but what i’m trying to do is make the most of whatever other resources are available to me (helplines, textlines, self care strategies, forums, blogs, google, etc.) and i still have a social worker so idk, i should be okay 👌🏾
anyway, that was a lot of oversharing but, now you all know where i am atm ;) and i only share this with you guys cause a lot of asks i receive are about feeling like shit for not knowing what pd you have, or about being too poor to afford good health care, or not knowing how to convince your conservative ass black parents that you’re dying and need help and like !!! all of those topics are so so important to me on a very personal level !!! and i wanna help y'all so bad. but tbqh, i’m still trying to figure this shit out myself 😕 so, what i’m hoping is, just by letting you know more about my experience and being as honest as i can about it, at least one of you readin this might feel a little less lonely dealing with your pain. idk.
anyway, second to last thing: fr tho, i hope y'all know that it is both a rare, and amazing trait to be as insightful as so many of you are. even just trying to figure out ‘god, what is wrong with me’ and taking the time to do the research, is self care. it’s defiance. it’s acknowledging that a better life is possible, and it’s straight up refusing to settle for the pain you’re in now, for a life less fulfilling than what you know you deserve. i feel like the generations before us didn’t do that enough (with good reason, tbh, even today it’s still hard to know who we can trust) but it’s high time black people start healing our minds and our hearts. so power to you ✊🏾
and yeah. that’s all i wanted to say this morning. i’ve been wanting to say all that for a while, but wasn’t sure where the hell to start. i just hope that was all coherent and made sense, lol. don’t ever hesitate to message me guys. i may be an emotional wreck that takes too long to reply, but i do love you. lol.
and please please please continue to research things on your own as well, like. keep up with the latest studies, the TED talks, the blavity articles, the mental health blogs etc. etc. learn as much as you can about how to take the best care of you, even if my executively dysfunctional ass can’t help right away lol.
also !! (last thing, i promise) a quick update about this blog: i edited it a bit, namely my tagging system, to make it a bit more useful. i won’t go through all my tags here (maybe i’ll add an about page and a tag page later) but, for example, there’s my new affirmations tag (full of helpful reminders that i like to think about everyday) my positivity tag (just, yk, positive shit that makes think positive thoughts) and my black tag (whatever content i feel like pertains to just my fellow black + mentally ill peeps, cause lbr a lot of our struggles only happen at the intersection of both identities) 💕
i also have a music tag for music recommendations!! cause i like to believe music is very healing all on its own ;)
AAAAND that’s it lol 😘 stay safe out there guys !! this world is wild but, tbh, we know better than anyone what it means to make the very most out of our lives no matter what. happy black history month 🖤
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IT’S OKAY TO BE CLICHÉ
TW: therapy, mental illness, anxiety, depression
Hey, so, I haven’t mentioned my super cool therapist in the last two blog posts, and I thought it was about time I did that again: Shout out to you, Kerstin, you’re the real MVP man, love you. Too much? Okay, yeah. Sorry. Professionalism, right. (I really hope she doesn’t read this blog, I mean she agreed it would be a good idea for me to write it but Christ, I doubt she’d wanna see me again if she actually found it.)
Okay, why this very odd and potentially problematic intro to today’s post, you ask? (Please tell me you asked yourself that, I feel so lonely here) Well, today I’m gonna tell you (or myself, I guess) the story of how I first started my therapy journey. Because, boy oh boy, is it a turbulent and long one. And we’re all about working through those turbulent and long life stories on here, aren’t we. So, let’s begin.
In all my previous posts, I’ve already given a pretty solid overview of all my various psychological issues that are deeply nestled in my mind and brain. However, as I wasn’t born a genius or psychoanalyst, you might be able to guess that I wasn’t always aware of those from the beginning. In fact, I had absolutely no fucking idea what was going on when they started, and kind of just floated in a constant state of anxiety, depression, insomnia and my general quarter-life crisis for a good few months.
Luckily, I have some very good friends (and also a few rational brain cells, big kudos to those fellas), with the help of which I figured out after a while, that whatever it was that was causing all my problems, was probably worth finding out by consulting an actual professional. A connaisseur of the mind. An expert on the depths and divots of the psyche, if you will.
Okay, we get it, Isa. You went to see a therapist. Stop it already with the pretentious big talk.
Excuse me, this is my blog, don’t tell me what to do. (I’m really Dr.-Jekyll-and-Mr-Hyde-ing it up on here, ain’t I?). Anyway. Yes, you are right, that is exactly what I was getting at. Only that between the realization of me needing professional and guided help, and the actual act of getting said help, lie about ten to eleven more months.
A year, basically. It took me an entire year to actually get my shit together and sign up for my first ever therapy session. Whoops.
To some, that might sound pretty unbelievable if one can trust my previous stories of how I was a) not really feeling anything, ever, b) had panic and anxiety attacks every night and c) was basically disconnected from my body and mind like 24/7. To others, though, taking a long time to finally make the step and ask for help, might be something very relatable.
And while I’m not necessarily on here to be related to, I myself am the latter of the two people mentioned above. As in: Asking for help is really not one of the strengths I mention on my CV (hence my last blog post about pointlessly shit-posting on social media instead). And even more importantly: Admitting to myself that I am in need of help and cannot fix my problems on my own, is even harder.
You see, autumn of 2018 hadn’t been the first ever time that I had struggled mentally. As a teenager, there were a couple of incidents where, looking back on it now, I had really been in urgent need of therapy. But I was too young and my parents unfortunately not understanding and knowledgeable enough, to see that that had been the case.
I graduated high school, some more time passed, water under the bridge and all, until I started university and my childhood traumas, as all my other problems, were swiftly brushed under the rug of repression. (That sounds like an edgy indie band, I like it). And for a while, everything was fine. Really, I loved what I was studying, I made some great new friends, acquired new skills, got way too drunk and made out with way too many people, went to study abroad, got even more drunk and made out with even more people. Let’s just say I was living the student life to the fullest.
But we all know that things didn’t just continue to be that peachy. That’s why I’m sitting here writing, after all.
I’m not going to whine about how unfair life can be because really, there’s enough white, cis-gender, middle-class white women out there who already do that on a daily. Suffice to say, things did get kind of tough though, when that fifth semester of university hit, and I was faced with something I had never yet been faced before: The impending doom of the future. (Insert the dramatic sound effect from Inception).
Growing up, I had always had an exact plan of what I wanted to do in life, who I wanted to be and where I wanted to go. I was good at writing and coming up with stories, and also had a big mouth and way too many opinions, so I figured journalism would be the way to go. I got into the uni of my dreams and was finally doing what I had always wanted to do. Or ... well, okay, I liked some of the subjects. It sure was a huge load of work. And, actually, some of the professors, who were also journalists, seemed to be pretty big dicks. And wait, I don’t really agree on most of the practices and opinions they teach. Also, actually working at a newspaper isn’t that cool and more so a literal living hell. Do I really want to do this still? Is that really who I am?
Did I ... make the wrong choice?
Aaaaand there goes everything I built my personality, hopes and dreams on. Out of the window, just like that. Bye bye, future. Bye bye, all my plans. Bye bye, ground beneath my feet.
I realize that this sounds exactly like what I said I was trying to avoid (me whining), but I want to be honest and suddenly being hit with the fact that the thing I had been so sure of pursuing all my life, was actually nothing but smoke and mirrors, was kind of a punch to the gut. Strong enough to clearly derail me, yet subtle enough to keep me from noticing it at first.
I’m planning on talking about this in a separate post but I wan to pre-empt this much: I have a pretty big issue with not being in control of my own life and for the first time since literal birth, that was the case. I was completely clueless as to what would happen next, how I would figure it out and what the hell I was going to do with my life and academic education. It hit me like a wall of bricks but in a way, I was in too much of a shock state to realize that it was really starting to cause some bigger issues.
This was around the time that my nightly panic attacks started happening. I didn’t sleep well, started missing classes and began to hate every single thing about my course. I felt lost but didn’t want to admit it. All the other people in my class seemed so damn sure of where they wanted to go and here I was, a zombified insomniac, trying to get through yet another exam I didn’t give a single shit about, in order to do my degree in a subject I had lost all my previous passion for.
This confusing and draining state of just continuing to push went on for a few months, and I somehow made it into the sixth semester, with almost all my left-over willpower and what little energy there still was in my tired bones, having faded to the barest of minimums. I mean, I took one of my law exams on the very last try because I just hadn’t managed to get out of bed for all those 8am lectures, therefore loosing one of the three tries I had, not having studied enough to go the second one and then found myself sitting at the third try, secretly wishing to just fail so I could drop out, curl into a ball and sleep for a year.
You know, just your casual university breakdown.
Only that I was still violently denying that that was exactly what had been happening for the last semester. I didn’t want to admit it but ... I was breaking down. Not in a plane-crash-and-burn kind of way but more in a Titanic way, where I underestimated the ice berg that was my impending life crisis and then spend ages ignoring the fact that I was slowly but certainly sinking further into my demise. Okay, that comparison was in poor taste, I apologize. I’ll tune it back on the drama again.
I knew I needed help. Someone to talk to and figure out what the hell was causing my anxiety, panic attacks and insomnia. But I kept telling myself that I just had to push a little more until I wrote my thesis and finished university and then, then I would deal with all my issues. I just needed to keep going and do this first, just a little longer, just until I got my degree. Now was not the time, okay? I was still busy, and if those damn issues could see that and wait for another second, God damn it, why won’t my brain just let me finish this first.
Ding-dong.
Can you hear that? That’s right. It’s the burn-out, ringing my doorbell.
And it didn’t wait for me to ask for it to come in. Burn-outs usually never do. And neither did any of my other problems. I had kept them at bay long enough, but the tide still came.
Because if we think back to my cupboard metaphor in my post about panic attacks and anxiety: Once that door opens, it all comes crashing down on top of you. In my case, this meant that I found myself amidst mountains of thesis literature, having nothing left to do but that one, single task of writing my final academic paper, before I finally got to be free of this horrid course, that I had apparently wasted the last three years of my life on.
I knew I had more than enough time left to write my thesis. I liked my topic. I had all the books. All the plans. All of it. Right there. Just write it. Just fucking start typing. Just–
Just sit at the library every day, staring at the cursor on the page, blinking, reminding you of the emptiness of the document before you, and the even bigger emptiness in your chest. It blinks, like it’s trying to mock you and with every second that passes, every other minute of not writing, just sitting and staring, it mocks you more and that emptiness gets bigger.
I don’t want this to turn into a pretentious short story, but this was what it felt like. I would open my laptop every day, ready to work, and then just proceed to stare at it for hours on end, until all of a sudden, the sun had started to set again and the day would be over. I’d go to bed, rinse and repeat, and do it all over again the next day. Still having my panic attacks. Still not sleeping. Still thinking that it was all going to be fine if I just kept trying and kept pushing.
Needless to say, I didn’t hand in my thesis on the first try. But hey, a lot of people don’t! Hell, even most of my class mates didn’t. So, it’s okay, mum and dad, friends and family, I’m fine! I just need to put more work in and make it better, so I can hand in a well-researched paper. I just need more time.
More time.
Time, that I would spend opening my laptop, every day, ready to work, and then just proceed to stare at it for hours on end until all of a sudden, the sun had started to set again and the day would be over. I’d go to bed, rinse and repeat, and do it all over again the next day. Still having my panic attacks. Still not sleeping. Still thinking that it was all going to be fine if I just kept trying and kept pushing.
I just. Needed. More. Time.
As you can probably guess, I also didn’t hand in my thesis the second time around. And when the deadline for the third and last chance to hand it in and get my degree came around ... well, I just accepted my defeat.
It had come to a point where even my delusional ass had started to realize that something was clearly wrong. Like, completely, utterly wrong. I had kept pushing, no, kicking my problems in front of me like a kid kicks a football while walking to the playground, pretending that if I just dragged them with me long enough, I could maybe outrun them and finish what I wanted to finish before finally dealing with them. But after an entire year of doing that, even I had to admit that that wasn’t going to work.
It never had and it never would. And finally accepting that, was as painful as it was freeing, in a way. There was something about knowing that I had hit my breaking point, that had a strange sense of relief to it. I don’t want to romanticize any of what happened to me just for the sake of story telling. But I remember feeling like by hitting my first ever rock bottom, I was now at the point where, as they like to say, the only way was up.
Right?
Right.
Well, kind of. Not really. But that’s for another post to tell, for now let’s continue with the therapy journey.
Don’t get me wrong, even though my stubborn head and me had finally accepted that it had gotten to a point where I had no excuses left to make, I still felt like an absolute cliché for having become one of the people who have a nervous breakdown in their twenties because their dream of a perfectly planned life hadn’t worked out exactly how they had wanted it to. What a big, privileged crybaby I was. Or at least, that’s what a part of me thought.
But I kind of knew back then, and most definitely know now, that no matter how cliché or silly you feel for not being able to “fix” your problems by yourself, there lies absolutely no weakness or failure in admitting that you need someone else to help you with it. Quite the contrary is the case: it’s probably one of the bravest things you can do in life. And I know that in comparison to what other people might have gone through, my own issues might have just been a speck of dust in the universe. But to me, they were the ice berg that got my ship to sink. And that is exactly why your own problems are never invalid or “too small” to work on. Because while they might not seem like real problems (whatever the fuck that means) to society, your parents (we’ll talk about that one another time as well, yikes) or anyone else who clearly hasn’t gotten their priorities right, they very much are real problems to you.
And they were real problems to me, too.
So, after a year of what felt like beating a dead horse, I was finally ready to re-animate that horse, so I could move forward in life (horse metaphors, yes, Isa, that’s exactly what this blog still needed). I signed up for my first ever therapy assessment, got my first ever diagnosis and even joined a session of group therapy. The psychotherapist I had my assessment with, actually diagnosed me with anxiety and depression disorder, which kind of didn’t come as a big surprise to me, since those were the two things I had experienced literally all year. Still, hearing a medical professional say it out loud after having listened to my story, was a strange yet good feeling. For the first time, it felt like something I could grasp. It was no longer just a confusing and irritating thing that kept me awake at night and brain-dead during the day. It had a name, and even more importantly: It had a treatment.
Unfortunately, the place I signed up to had no free spots for one-on-one therapy yet, so, plot twist: This isn’t where my heavily praised and even more heavily featured therapist Kerstin comes in yet. Tricked you, didn’t I? (No, I literally tricked no one because if anyone even reads this blog, it’s my friends who already know exactly what happened so really, who am I kidding.) There’s still a lot of stuff that happened between me having my first ever assessment and receiving my first ever diagnosis, and me actually meeting my first ever personal therapist.
But, this blog post has already been going on for too long and I don’t want to get ahead of my own emotional work schedule. Plus, I’m once again pretty heavily dissociated at this point, so I think it’s best if I give it a rest for today and continue another time.
If there’s any kind of take away and conclusion for myself and anyone who might read this, it’s that no matter what all those doubtful voices in your head are saying: Your problems are valid. Your pain is worth recognizing and you should never compare it to those of others in order to down-play it or make yourself think that you’re not doing “bad enough” yet. There is no such thing as being ill or miserable enough. Whatever it is you’re struggling with, it’s worth taking a break and figuring it out. Because the movie Titanic might have been a cinematographic masterpiece, but in the end the ship still sank. And if there’s something that can help avoid that happening, someone you can talk to and that can help you get better (and there always is) – you should do it, because it’s the least that you deserve.
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Some scrub: who is Audre Lorde?
Me:
#me having to listen to some dumb ass white feminists#get the fuck out of here with your intro to white womens studies shit#acting like yall know what the fuck yall talking about#pitiful#this has been a RantTM
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