#i find it hard to talk to my therapist about this which maybe means i need a new one | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

awkwardarmadildo · 1 year

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to add on to the humans are space orcs/earth is the universe's australia, sensing. my therapist has recently explained that its not normal the way i know who and where someone is by their footsteps. not just the sound, but the vibrations. if someone isnt purposely walking on light feet, i can tell who and where they are, even with headphones blaring. imagine a human on a ship and the awe-filled terror itd earn from their non-human crewmates.

edit: ive realized i wasnt clear enough in my intentions. im not saying "if you can tell peoples footsteps apart, youve been ✨️ T R A U M A T I Z E D ✨️ d-(^♡^)-b ". its about the inherent panic in Not hearing the steppies and therefore Not having the time to prepare yourself for whoever might be approaching and essentially being ambushed. also, being able to tell if someone is normalTM, happy, sad, et cetera. the combined terror of not being given time to make oneself "presentable" for whoevers coming, And Also whoever has just seemingly teleported is fucking pissed, which is never good. Anyways, enjoy!!! ＼(^o^)／

Gilith enters the library, searching for Human Raven. They seem to be found most often either here or in one of the many gardens on the ship. Human Alex said he'd likely find them here today.

Gilith pokes his head through the doorway, not seeing Human Raven, but before he can move on, a voice calls out from one of the high-backed chairs decorating the library.

"Hello Lithy, what do you need?"

Gilith sputters, "Wha- Human Raven, how did you know it was me?" Gilith makes his way over to the chair that held Human Raven in a twisted knot that, when Human Raven stood up, would surely leave a horrifying crunch Human Alex had likened to a human candy that exploded in one's mouth.

"You've got some loud stompers, Lithy."

"I do not know what that means, Human Raven."

Raven stands, causing Gilith to flinch at many snaps and crackles of their bones settling into place, and smiles up at his towering form.

"What did you need?"

Gilith notices more and more Human Raven's greetings. He thought maybe they could hear him coming, but they greeted him while wearing ear speakers, the volume so loud, Gilith could hear it from a few feet away.

Humans did not have psychic skills, and the only other human who seemed capable of a preemptive greeting was Human Alex. The two seemed to share all of their off-hours, so maybe that was where he could find his answers.

Gilith scoured the many gardens, stopping just outside of the doorway. He could hear Human Alex and Human Raven chattering to each other, but neither seemed to notice his presence.

In an attempt not to disturb them, he walked with what Human Bea had described as "tip-toes". A challenging feat, considering his round flat feet, but he managed.

Both Human Raven and Human Alex had their backs to him, so he coughed in the same way Human Bea often did to get everyone's attention.

The reaction he got was unexpected when both Human Raven and Human Alex flinched so hard their shoulders seemed to lock.

"My apologies! I didn't mean to startle you," he rushed over, but stopped short when they both flinched again. He recoiled his hand.

"It's ok, Lithy," Raven says, voice slightly choked. "Just give us a sec."

"Oh. Okay." Gilith turned his eyes down.

"What-" Alex started, his voice sounding as though it was rubbed raw. He cleared his throat and tried again. "What can we do for you, Gilith?"

"I did not have anything specific to talk to you about. I wanted to..." he trails off. "I wanted to inform you of the new plants we are picking up at the next trade planet."

Gilith feels his face twist with the lie, but now didn't seem like a good time to ask.

His desire to understand, however, doesn't fade after the incident. It only makes his hunger grow.

Instead of bothering Human Alex or Human Raven, Gilith decides to ask Human Bea, who does not sense him before he greets her.

"Hello, Human Bea."

"Yes, hello, Gilith. Is everything okay?"

"I have question."

Bea tilts her head. "Ask away."

"Are you- humans- able to detect someone before you see them?"

Bea's face softens into an aching sort of frown. "Not naturally."

"What do you mean?"

She takes a breath, seemingly preparing herself. "Well, most people are able to live in a relatively safe place. But some people aren't as lucky. Some people have to memorize the falls of others' feet. It's a learned survival tactic."

"I don't understand," Gilith says, his face wrinkling in confusion.

"Some people aren't safe, so for the ones who weren't born with the good luck of a safe home, they have to know who and where someone is. They have to know if they need to hide or prepare themself. They have to know if they're in danger or not."

Gilith feels his whole body go slack as a wave of sadness washes over him at the memory of Human Raven and Human Alex's reaction to his sudden appearance.

"I have loud stompers."

Bea's face scrunches up as though she's trying not to laugh. "You do. You have safe stompers, too."

#humans are weird #humans are space australians #earth is space australia #humans are space orcs #poor gilith hes just a skrunkily little guy #his skin is a kinesthetic mood ring lmao #space orcs

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avoxrising · 5 months

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The Feral One • Ch 20

Finnick x Y/N

Series Masterlist Link

I promise we will get into the timer stuff soon but I have to build up the plot first…

Content Warnings - None!

You wake up to Finnick gone, a note left on his pillow.

Got called into training early. Didn’t want to disturb you. I’ll see you at lunch.

Love,

Your fake husband

Why was he in training so early? He said yesterday that his training wouldn’t start till after breakfast.

Maybe he was upset by what happened last night. Maybe he didn’t enjoy it.

You let your thoughts consume you as you lay in bed, completely skipping breakfast and most of your morning schedule.

A knock on your door pulls you from your thoughts.

“Come in,” you sigh to whoever was waiting. You’re surprised to see Boggs enter.

“Miss Y/L/N, do I need to remind you that you have a schedule to follow?” he asks.

“No,” you yawn. “I’m sorry I lost track of time. What time is it anyways?”

“10:34 AM,” Boggs states. “I’ve been instructed to escort you to your doctor’s checkup, which you are very late to.”

Boggs gives you a minute to dress before he’s escorting you to the hospital. He says Coin isn’t happy that you are already disregarding your schedule and is rethinking your living arrangement.

Prim performs your checkup that morning. She clears you for the day and you make your way to the cafeteria to help with lunch prep.

11:30 rolls around and you finally have a chance to see Finnick. Twelve hours felt too long and you were anxious to face him again. He was sometimes hard to read.

“Hey love,” he says as you sit down next to him with your tray. “How was your morning?”

“Meh,” you shrug. “I got reprimanded by Boggs for not following my schedule. I guess that was a serious rule.”

“Sorry about this morning,” Finnick states. “I would have woken you up when they buzzed for me but you look like you needed the sleep.”

“That’s ok,” you sigh, thinking about how sad you were that he wasn’t there when you woke. “Why did they increase your training?”

“Katniss snuck onto a transport that left late last night for District 2,” he explains. “They’re moving up our deployment timeline.”

“Deployment?” you ask, setting your fork down. “You didn’t tell me they were sending you anywhere.”

“Can we talk about this tonight?” he replies.

“I’m not hungry,” you state, abruptly standing with your tray. Finnick calls out for you as you walk away, needing to escape for a bit.

You end up back at the hospital to talk to Prim.

“Could I get an excuse for the rest of the day?” you ask her. “I’m not feeling well.”

“Oh no! Do you need medicine? What’s not feeling well?” she asks.

“I’ve just had a bad day that’s all,” you shake your head. “I can’t mentally handle a schedule today.”

“Why don’t you go chat with Dr. Aurelius for a bit,” Prim suggests. “He’s available now if you want to see him.”

You had never been in therapy before. Dr. Aurelius seemed nice but you didn’t know if you could trust him. What do therapists even do?

“Nice to meet you Miss Y/L/N,” the man states as he enter the room. “I’m Dr. Aurelius. Why don’t we start with how you’re feeling today?”

“Sad,” you reply, unsure of how to properly convey your emotions.

“Do you know why you feel sad?” he asks. “Or what made you feel this way?”

“District 13 makes me sad,” you state as the man writes something down in his notebook. “I have no autonomy here.”

“They allowed you to get married,” he remarks. “Are you happy about that?”

“Meh,” you shrug. “I mean I love Finnick but it was a fake wedding for a propo that we agreed to do so we could be roommates here in 13. He’s lived with me for 5 years now. I skipped my schedule this morning and Coin is already threatening to make us live separately again.”

“I see,” the man comments. “Do you find schedules restricting?”

“I guess I do,” you respond. “I mean I’ve spent my whole adult life on house arrest so I’ve never really been able to make decisions for myself. Having a schedule feels like someone is telling me what to do all the time.”

“That’s understandable,” he comments. “I can excuse you from your schedule for today but you will need to find a compromise with President Coin. I will provide you with a list of options for your schedule so you can maybe pick out what you want to do. I apologize that the list is limited but it’s the best I can do.”

You take the list and agree to meet with him and Coin in the morning to discuss your schedule. In the mean time he gives you a “mentally unstable” bracelet to excuse you for the rest of the day.

The list seems meh. You had no interest in learning about nuclear weapons or the history of Panem, and cafeteria duty wasn’t necessarily your favorite.

Reflection time rolled around and Finnick enters your shared cabin.

“You skipped dinner,” he comments as he throws you an apple. You reluctantly take it and eat a bit to ease his worry.

“You skipped out on telling me about deployment,” you mutter.

“I’m sorry,” he sighs as he moves to sit next to you. “I just didn’t feel like there was a good time to tell you. I was going to tell you before the wedding but you had your breakdown and I didn’t want to worry you.”

“Where are they sending you?” you ask.

“The capital,” he responds. At this answer you burst into tears.

“You can’t leave me,” you sob. Finnick wishes he could pull you into a hug but he knows better than to touch you when you’re upset.

“It will only be for two weeks,” he states. “Three at most.”

“What if you don’t come back?” you hiccup.

“I’ll always come back for you,” he replies.

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#hunger games #finnick odair #hunger games fic #the hunger games #finnick odair x reader #finnick x reader #finnick angst #finnick #finnick odair angst #hunger games x reader #hunger games fanfiction #hunger games angst #mockingjay #the feral one

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the-guilty-writer · 1 year

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Valid

Spencer Reid x Reader

Summary: After experiencing a non-epileptic seizure, Spencer refuses to leave your side.

A/N: Oh you know… just me writing to try to help heal from medical trauma.

CW: reader experiences a non-epileptic seizure, mentions of medical gaslighting.

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For once, you found a doctor that you didn’t hate. Of course, most of the doctors you hated were MDs and Spencer had three PhDs, so he wasn’t a medical doctor, but sometimes just the Dr. abbreviation in front of the name was enough to make you upset.

You wondered, sometimes, if those doctors would have a different opinion about the cause of your so-called “psychogenic” seizure condition if they knew that you didn’t have seizures when you thought about how angry you were at them, despite their insistence that strong emotions were surely the cause of your episodes. If it wasn’t that, then they’d say it was repressed trauma, despite having therapists and psychological evaluators tell you that they didn’t see anything concerning. In the early days, you’d kept track of everything, hoping to find a trigger that was avoidable or something that you could work through, but you never did. And medical professionals never believed you.

There was nothing they could do.

You worked at the BAU, but not on the team. Your job was all about VICAP- analyzing the data to help look for any serial crimes that crossed state lines to give the FBI jurisdiction, and to evaluate if any of them required the expertise of the BAU. As soon as your position was added to the unit, Spencer had become intrigued with your job.

“You’re doing a geographical profile on the whole nation, essentially,” he had said.

“Essentially,” you had replied.

Because of safety reasons, everyone you worked with knew about your condition, but you didn’t make a big deal out of it. If anything, you tried to hide it as much as possible. When you did have seizures, you usually caught an aura in time that you could close your office door, lay down to make sure you were safe, and recover in peace. That was the only reason you were thankful that your office, which was previously JJ’s, wasn’t in the bullpen.

Most of the time, however, you were in the bullpen- sitting at a spare desk with at least two computers and a stack of spreadsheets. That’s exactly where you were today.

“Anything interesting?” Spencer asked as he came by your desk, leaning against it and taking a sip of his coffee.

“Possibly,” you replied. “And by possibly I mean there is about a-” you typed in a few numbers on your computer. “0.0032% chance that there’s a serial killer crossing between Texas, Oklahoma, and Kansas.”

“You know,” Spencer started. You probably did know, but you let him keep talking anyway. “For an organized killer that would be a great way to evade detection considering all the jurisdiction lines that would be crossed.”

“That’s why I check it every week,” you told him. “I might not be a profiler, but I do know my statistics and geography.”

“Oh, that reminds me of…” Spencer began to ramble on about a new paper that had just been published. “I’ll bring it to you tomorrow.”

“Thanks,” you went to smile, but it faltered slightly as the wave of an aura washed over you. And this time it was the kind that you knew was coming hard and fast. “I’ll be back-”

You got out of your chair and began to walk towards the bathroom. You wouldn’t make it to your office, but maybe you could save yourself the embarrassment of having to explain your unexplainable condition. Weakly, you opened up the bathroom door and stumbled inside.

Even thought it hadn’t stopped a seizure in the past, you leaned over the sink and splashed cold water on your face with the hope that it might work just this once. You felt the aura get stronger, more intense, and your body began to give out.

You crumbled to the bathroom floor- your vision leaving you and your control over your body gone. It felt like your brain had turned to mush. There was a faint sound of a door opening, but you weren’t sure if it was real or not, because the next thing you knew, you were out cold.

---

When you started to come too- the liquified world becoming solid once again- you smelled Spencer. It was his cardigan, balled up under your head. The next thing that cleared up was your hearing, but the only thing you could hear was the soft buzzing of the bathroom lights that needed to be replaced. And then there was your vision. It always came back last and was the slowest to clear, but when it did come back to you, you were met by the sight of Spencer.

There was a sort of panicked calm about him- his eyes wide with worry, but his voice soothing as he talked.

“Hey,” Spencer said calmly. “It’s Spencer. You had a seizure. Just relax.”

You took a deep breath. It could be hard to speak after a seizure sometimes, but you were able to get some words out. You started to focus on your breathing, letting the world come back to you slowly. “I’m fine.”

“You had a seizure,” Spencer said again. “Please relax. I don’t think you’re fully coherent yet.”

“I’m fine, Spencer,” you said. You carefully tried to sit up, but your head was still fuzzy and your body was still weak. Slowly, you pulled your torso upward and leaned against the wall for support before handing Spencer’s cardigan back to him and closing your eyes. “Please, just leave.” You felt heavy with embarrassment.

“I’m not going to leave you,” Spencer said gently. He sat down next to you on the floor. “You shouldn’t be alone after that.”

You opened your eyes a bit, trying to get used to the lights. “Spencer, please-”

“No,” this time he said it far more firmly. “I’m going to stay with you until you’ve recovered.”

Tears began to well in your eyes and you felt yourself wanting to sob. “They’re not even real,” you whispered. Those were the words the doctors had told you. Even after years of trying everything from CBT to biofeedback to mediation… they all just believed you were hysterical or looking for attention. “They’re not a big deal.”

“I saw it,” Spencer said, his voice taking on a higher tone. “It was real, and it was scary, and it is a big deal.”

“Then why don’t the doctors think it’s real? Why do they say it’s all in my head?” you said quietly. A tear slipped down your cheek, but you weren’t sure why. Maybe it was the humiliating feeling that a coworker had seen you at your worst, or the echoes of the voices of all the specialists that told you that you were crazy over and over again.

Spencer took your hand gently, trying to comfort you. “It’s not all in your head. There’s so much about the brain that we don’t know- it’s possible that what causes your seizures scientists don’t even know exist yet. Just because they can’t see it doesn’t mean it isn’t real. It isn’t your fault that medical professionals feel the need to blame things they can’t see on psychiatric issues instead of being open minded,” Spencer tripped over his words just a little. You hadn’t spent months hanging around profilers to have caught onto nothing.

“You sound like you speak from experience,” you said quietly. There was a pause. “But you don’t have to tell me.”

“No, I-” Spencer said. “I want to tell you.” He sighed. “A few years ago I was having headaches. They’d last days at a time. I couldn’t focus at work and it cut my reading speed in half.” If you had the strength you would have laughed at that- even at half the speed, Spencer could still read about five times as fast as the average person. “And I got every test and image done imaginable, but the doctors told me it was all in my head.”

His hand was still in yours and you squeezed it gently in support. He smiled gently. “I ended up finding a geneticist that helped me. She had me superdosing with a few vitamins at certain intervals and they cleared up eventually.”

“I’m happy for you,” you told him. It was sincere. As hard as it was to watch other people get better while you still suffered, you were always glad they didn’t have to continually experience pain.

“I wish I could help you,” he said.

“You’re the only doctor I know who hasn’t minimized my experience and told me that yoga and therapy will make it go away. That’s more help than an MD has given me in years.” You opened your eyes fully, having started to recover more.

Spencer’s eyes were wide and longing, like if he looked at you with enough sympathy it would take all the trauma of being gaslit for years taken away. “You’re not crazy. Your condition is real, No matter what anyone says.” He squeezed your hand again. “You’re valid.”

There weren’t words to express the relief his words gave you, so you had to settle and hope that he could feel, through the touch of your hands, how impactful his acknowledgement was.

“Thank you,” you whispered. “Really. Thank you.”

#spencer reid fanfiction #criminal minds fanfiction #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid x platonic!reader #spencer reid x y/n #criminal minds x y/n #criminal minds x platonic!reader #criminal minds x reader #criminal minds

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nouearth · 9 months

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a letter to spider-man.

peter parker x male reader.

summary: spider-man launched his own help line and you need his advice in talking to your crush: peter.

wc: 1.2k. genre: fluff, comfort!fic. warnings: holland!peter, social anxiety, mention of death, crushes, college!au. notes: i was re-reading perks of being a wallflower again, OOF. i kinda want to make this a series, so please tell me if you'd like to see it become one!

peter wasn’t sure what made him decide to do this: a spider-man help line. one day, he woke up and wanted to fulfill a sense of purpose more than he already has—to help out the public more, to build a community that peter has been wanting to fix since the death of his aunt.

so far, they’ve been pretty simple tasks: walking the dogs, helping a blind woman with grocery shopping, fixing a broken pipe with his webs—it was all out of the kindness of his own big heart. a heart that his aunt once nurtured.

it was hard at first. from being a ‘save the world’ hero to a ‘save the dog from burning up in a locked car’ hero, it was a downgrade one might find—peter did at first.

but it’s been a while since he saw the relieved smiles on the public’s faces whenever he swung from the corner. true happiness that he was envious of at times, but nonetheless grateful for, and so that would become his motivation.

maybe it can make the world a better place if people happen to be inspired by his actions. small stuff that regular civilians can achieve. a domino effect that peter hoped for.

—april 10th

dear spider-man, so, this is a thing now, huh? the future is so unpredictable, so i actually never thought i’d be writing to you. well, i guess the future would be me texting you like you advertised, but i like writing. it makes my hand cramp, and my handwriting is terrible (sorry, i hope you can still read this), but it feels good. like... shouting at the sky, i would imagine, so i prefer it. i’ve also been watching a lot of ‘80s and ‘90s movies, which could also be a major factor. and i just realized i’m supposed to tell you about my problems! this is kinda hilarious because i think i’ve probably rewritten my letter six times already. also, are you living your citizen life as a therapist or something? because why else would you be helping people this way? not that we don’t appreciate it, but it’s different. you’ve probably stopped reading by now, but in case you haven’t, i’ll keep the rest short. i guess my problem is… i like this guy. i know you’re not a relationship therapist (your secret is safe with me if you are though), but i figured a guy like you knew how to talk to people? you save people on a daily basis, so you probably aren’t scared anymore, right? that theory worked better in my head, to be honest, so scratch that! anyway, his name is peter. we’re both freshmen in college, so we’ve been seeing each other a lot, especially since we’re in the same classes. did i mention that i’m a guy as well? i don’t know him that well. i’m pretty quiet, i guess. invisible, maybe? it’s funny. sometimes, my professors would forget that i was even in their classes until i would speak up. but besides that point, he probably doesn’t even know that i exist either. the perks of being invisible—i’m not even sure if there are any, because i’m noticeable enough on days where people want to say stuff. mean, terrible stuff. i wonder if he notices me, though. probably not, but a guy could only hope. i think we’d get along. again, hope! he’s smart and humble, always insecure of his own answers even though he knows—everyone knows—that it’s correct. kind, too. also awkward, like me. but the cute-awkward, not the me-awkward. i like him. i want to be friends with him. maybe even more? but i’m not greedy! i can settle with being friends. i guess, how can i approach him?

thank you, (m/n)

it caught peter off guard at first—seeing his name in the same vicinity as spider-man became a jump-scare. even though, the sender kept everything pretty vague to keep the named crush relatively anonymous, there was a gut feeling telling peter that it was him—the culprit of (m/n)’s stolen heart.

nah, there are so many peters..! just a coincidence.

it took him longer than he thought to come up with a sufficient reply. usually, a task would’ve been done because all he had to do was use his body, his webs to do good—not his words. inexperienced yet excited, peter smiled while writing his letter.

peter wasn’t great at consoling people. hell, he couldn’t even make himself feel better. but he’ll try, like he always does.

—april 23rd

hi (m/n)! sorry for taking so long to get back to you! life’s been crazy with everything going on. did you know that there’s been at least ten deli robberies that i managed to save this week alone? something about that chicken salad sandwich drives people nuts… like you, peter’s actually been pretty swamped with exams and graduation. i also want to congratulate you for being the only one that has written a letter to me instead of using the chat service! i’ve never written a letter before, so excuse my rustiness. my handwriting is way worse than yours. mine looks like if you gave a dog a pen and made it write. freshman year of college is a big year for you, for everyone. i remember the feeling of feeling so lost! still know the feeling. don’t get me wrong. yes, i’ve become braver since i started this spider-man stuff. but i still get scared, you know? life is so unpredictable and you never know when something might go wrong, and unexpectedly go so right. like, just the other day, i got anxious when i was ordering from a drive-thru! they didn’t hear me, so i had to repeat my order. then again, because the mic sucked or whatever! even though it was only me, i felt so embarrassed, like my cheeks swelling and itchy skin type of nervous. but then it quickly went away because… okay, well i got my burger and fries pretty quick, so that helped. but you know what i mean? there’s this potentially negative outcome that we’re so afraid of. when in reality, it’s only ever so fleeting. you said he’s a nice guy, right? he could also be scared to talk to you, and you would never know because you’re too busy knocking yourself down! everyone is awkward. I’m awkward. so are some of my family members, my friends too. and that feeling won’t ever go away. sometimes, it’s meant to be shared. being invisible isn’t so bad sometimes. i definitely know the feeling, even wished for it at times. you can listen to music without being bothered, that’s a bonus! but from what i’ve noticed from feeling invisible, it would always come when i was being unkind to myself. i had the worst perception of myself in the eyes of my peers, and that made me withdraw. i purposely isolated myself because i was being unkind. the way you view yourself reflects onto others. not all the time, sometimes people are genuinely just assholes. but from what you’ve been telling me about this peter guy, he seems pretty special. if you’re awkward, be awkward and laugh it off. there’s nothing more charming than being genuine, and being kind to yourself is part of that progress. I’m rooting for you (and peter)!

from your friendly neighbor, spidey.

nouearth. please do not repost, plagiarize, or translate my works. andif you like this story, please reblog and leave a like!

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anxiety-elemental-kay · 8 months

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On Plants, Selfhood, and Seeking a Collective

[Image ID: Crop of several panels from TriMax volume 11 chapter 8. In this scene Chronica is interfacing with the used entity that consumed Domina. Chronica observes the mass and says "We as a species naturally do not have a concept of self, and therefor instead have a deep shared consciousness. That is why these plants are able to use without major difficulties." Then we see Chronica reach her hand toward one of the plants within and appear to gain information from her. End ID]

I told myself I was going to hold onto my Trigun thoughts until book club finished the series because I keep falling behind. Then I saw these panels and started chewing on a thought and since it's not really meta and more speculation I figured I'd write a quick little thing about Independent plants and selfhood.

Here we see Chronica interacting with the fused entity Knives made that was left behind/still attached to Domina. Chronica's comment about "We as a species naturally do not have a concept of self, and therefor instead have a deep shared consciousness." has really stuck with me and I've been trying to suss out possible implications for this, because she doesn't seem to be talking just about the dependent plants here. It's 'WE as a species', no distinction is made between different kinds of plants. Maybe it's nothing but the thought won't leave me alone SO:

I've been trying to look back at Vash and Knives through this lens to see if there's anything to glean there. Independents clearly do have a sense of self, and understand themselves to be unique individuals. They don't seem attached to any kind of hive mind the way dependent plants are, though they do have some minor telepathic powers and can communicate with dependent plants.

Mostly I was wondering if Independent plants have some instinct/predispositions toward certain needs or behaviors they cannot meet or fulfill as Independents?

(Subtopic: Does this mean there are therapists that specialize in Independent mental health, if they have specific needs/pressures that are different enough from humans?)

Knives and Vash suffered similar trauma when they discovered Tesla, and both felt sudden and violent isolation from everyone else on that ship, albeit in different ways. As adults they both isolate themselves in different ways: Knives keeps others at arms length so as to not disrupt his worldview, where as Vash's wandering lifestyle and danger-magnet-ness generally keeps him from forming lasting relationships.

Humans are social creatures and we'll generally pack-bond with anything, and it's hard to tell if it's similar for plants. Do they feel the same need to socialize/form bonds, or are Independents seeking out a collective/hivemind they instinctively seek but can never find? They clearly can feel lonely and isolated, but does it feel different for them? Does that pain come from a different place for a plant than a human?

Then there's this spread in the same chapter as the above panels:

[Image ID: A two page spread from TriMax volume 11 chapter 8. It's a closeup of Vash, bleeding from every hole in his head, his eyes wide. He lays near the edge of a huge drop-off, and far below him is pitch darkness lit with lights like a city at night as seen from above. It is unclear if the lights below are the plants, from the human city, or something else. End ID]

Since this is in the same chapter which opens with Chronica saying the line above, I was wondering if these two moments were connected somehow. Does the reminder that there are people who depend on him, a collective who needs him? He seems surprised when Brad, Meryl, and Milly made their diversion to stop the military. He generally seems to struggle with the idea that other people want to help him. Something something Vash both is and isn't part of the human society he lives in???

To what degree does Vash see himself as a person versus something that belongs to a collective, whether that collective is humans, plants, or both? Does an inborn need/desire to serve a collective predispose him to self-destructive behavior? Same with Knives, did the trauma of losing a perceived collective (discovering Tesla and losing the sense of belonging with humans) fuel his future hate and fear of humans in a way that he wouldn't have felt if he weren't an Independent?

Maybe there's something in the next volumes I don't remember that address this somehow. Part of what's fun about this reread is rediscovering things or connections I missed the first time, and all the meta people write pointing out things I might have missed entirely on my own! (Blows a kiss to everyone who posts meta on Tumblr ya'll are great and smart and thank you for sharing!)

Like I said, there's no real conclusion I'm making here, just kicking around an idea to see if it fits. Not sure it does, but putting it out there to get it out of my head and see what other people think.

#trigun #trigunbookclub #kay writes things

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am-i-the-asshole-official · 9 months

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WIBTA if I(26nb) stopped answering my ex (27nb) or asked them to stop messaging me?

They aren't asking to get back together. A while back, my partner dumped me bc we just weren't talking as much, were into different things, and drifted apart. Normal stuff people break up over all the time. They told me there was no hard feelings on their end, and I was the same. It was kind of a bummer but the fact that I wasn't especially upset was evidence the relationship was dead at that point.

At the time, my New Ex™️ asked if I needed space or if it would be okay to check in on me from time to time and make sure I was okay because, even though I said I was fine, they were worried about the effect this would have on my mental health. I'm clinically depressed and they were aware things had gotten pretty drastic years before we even met, but the entire time we knew each other I was stable, and even when I was low I wasn't a danger to myself. I have meds and a good therapist and a lot of practice with coping strategies, I'm good to go, I got a handle on myself before we met and I still have a handle on myself now. Obviously mental health isn't a guaranteed thing and just because I'm currently okay doesn't mean I always will be, but I have the tools to handle it when needed.

All this to say, when they asked if they could check up on my mental health, I was a little taken aback, wondering if they thought this would drive me to something extreme and if so why would they think that. I assured them that I was fine, totally stable and doing well and they had nothing to worry about, but I'd like to stay friends so sure, message me whenever you want.

I figured they'd check in on me in the immediate aftermath, which they did, but I thought that once that aftermath had passed they would go back to messaging me more conversationally, if at all. But since then, they keep doing "check in's" every few weeks to make sure I'm okay. This is not something they did when we were dating. I've been playing along because I'm the one who said it was okay, but I'm starting to feel a little bit weird about it?

Maybe I'm being too sensitive but it rubs me the wrong way that they only message me to do these check-ins, as if they think I'm going to fly off the deep end because we broke up. As if messaging me isn't having a convo with a friend but is instead some sort of wellness check they're obligated to perform. Like I said, I was taken aback to begin with by the implications of this, but now that they're still treating me like that months later, it's kind of pissing me off.

They literally just say "checking in" and nothing else, and they don't seem keen to converse otherwise. It gives me wellness check vibes which bothers me because I'm not in crisis, I've never been in crisis while they've known me, and them dumping me certainly didn't change that. I cannot emphasize enough that even when I was deep in depressive lows while we dated, it was never their job to do this sort of thing and they only started doing it after we broke up. It feels like they think I'm too weak or too unstable to actually be okay without them, even though I've repeatedly said that I'm currently thriving and to my knowledge there's no reason for them to think I'm currently a danger to myself.

Part of me wants to just start ignoring the messages but I'm worried that if this person thinks I'm so at-risk they need to keep checking on me months and months after dumping me, they might assume the worst if I just stop answering. The rest of me wants to just ask them to knock it off, but in that case I'm worried I'll come off as defensive and unreasonable, like I'm being offended over someone caring about my wellbeing, or that my frustration with this behaviour will make it come off harsher than I want it to. I don’t want to attack them for being worried about me, even if I find the degree of worry a bit insulting at this point.

My ex does not have an anxiety disorder and is not an anxious person at all. I have never threatened to do anything to myself in the time they've known me, and my reaction to the breakup was very calm and casual. I don’t know why they're acting like this, but it feels... I dunno, infantilizing? Condescending? I don’t know how exactly to describe it other than that it kind of feels like a slap in the face after the years and years of work I put into getting to this point with my mental health, none of which I needed them or even knew them for.

Would I be the asshole if I asked them to stop and was honest about why? Should I just ask them to stop and not elaborate? But then, if they ask, I don't want to lie, but maybe this is a situation where honesty isn't the best policy? Should I keep my mouth shut because they aren't actually doing anything wrong and I'm the one who said I fine with them checking on me? I was fine with it in the short-term, if a bit confused, but I never imagined it would still be going on months later.

What are these acronyms?

#aita #am i the asshole

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charmingpplincardigans · 2 months

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How’s everyone doing? I’ll go first, I’m bad!

I have been ~*~struggling~*~ since mid-September and in the last two weeks it has just gotten unbearable. I feel like I’m drowning all the time. I’m having trouble keeping up with and reaching out to people I want to talk to. And that’s like, on top of always having been bad at getting back to people. *stares forlornly at the ask Chaz sent me like, literally two years ago that I think about daily but just. haven’t. RESPONDED TO.*

Things are just. Closing in on all sides unfortunately. I’ve been sick several times. I bounced this month’s rent check. A thing I had NEVER DONE BEFORE IN MY LIFE before this last move. My job is literally never going to pay me what I’m worth. Or anyone what they’re worth, frankly. I broke down in front of my boss the other day and just sobbed for an hour because after I pay my bills every paycheck I have just enough left over to buy groceries for two weeks, if I’m careful, and little else. Which means I’m putting stuff like gas on credit cards, which isn’t helping the debt that makes me feel like drowning in the first place. I’ve been at this job SEVENTEEN YEARS. A steady, corporate job. And I’ve never once in my entire time there made an actual cost of living raise!! The cost of living just keeps raising without me! (And also everyone else, I know!)

I’m super overdue on getting people the art they commissioned from me, but my brain just hasn’t been in a good enough place to create much of anything, and I keep thinking I have to get this done and then thinking they deserve better than this, around and around on a loop ad finitum. And there are a couple of other things going on personally that just fucking blow that I don’t know how to fix and I’m just gonna choke on it.

I haven’t done any fandom stuff since NYCC. I haven’t written on my WIP. I haven’t read fic. I don’t check in on the madness happening on twitter. I’ve barely popped my head into my favorite pirate group chat over the last five months or so. I miss doing all of that so much and my stupid brain is so broken that even when I try I can’t enjoy it.

Shit. I’m having a hard time getting work work done. I just sit down at my desk every day, answer emails, and then spend five or so hours frozen with anxiety because there’s too much to do and doing nothing is only making it worse every day.

I need to be back in therapy ASAP, but unfortunately you can’t eat therapy so I can’t pay for it!!

And I feel guilty saying any of this to almost everyone I would usually talk to. (Congrats and condolences to the rest of you!) Because they’re having a harder time than me. Or because they’d just want to give me a bit of money about it, which would fuck me up even more. Or because it’s just tedious and boring and no one wants to listen to me talk about this over and over again, even though it’s all my brain does every hour of every day. It’s a wonder I’m ever able to talk about anything else.

My boss is pretty great, in spite of it all. She’s constantly supportive (to the extent she can be), and she just. She tells me all the time how creative and wonderful and smart and cool to know I am. And every time I just like, tear up, because none of it feels true. But I also tear up when my friends and my partner say those things too. Because to me, a full grown adult without a savings or a 401K or the ability to like, go get drinks just because I want to, I feel like a complete and utter failure. So like. Whatever I guess!!

I need to find a new job that pays me way more. Then I can get a therapist to fix my brain and save money to pay down my debts and have money to have fun with my friends and not feel like a constant financial burden on everyone. Then I can have the brain power back to maybe work on my fic or complete that art or like, I don’t know, talk to the people who actively want to talk to me. You wouldn't think that part would be so hard, but it really, really is.

I’m working on it. I’ll keep working on it. I have LinkedIn open right now. I’m gonna fucking sob through it, but that doesn’t mean none of it will get done.

In the meantime, if anyone knows of a good way to make a quick $30 grand, I’m all ears.

#no one cares kl #it's an old-fashioned two am post #at four in the afternoon!#that's how bad things are!#all my shame units are being used so i don't have any to spare #on whether or not i should be messy in public!!!

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creature-wizard · 5 months

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I don’t know how to stop looking at other people as competition, it’s how I was raised. Even with my friends (or former friends, considering they don’t talk to me now), I’m constantly trying to one up them and the ones I’m not trying to one up, my brain has already deemed that I’m “above them” (clearly I’m not or else I wouldn’t be here). My mom repeatedly told me since I was a little kid that the most embarrassing thing that could ever happen to me is to be the one clapping for my “friends” while they receive awards and achievements instead of it being me receiving those awards. It’s literally ingrained in me and my cousins, we don’t even like each other because we hate that one is more successful than the other.

Holy shit anon, that's an awful thing to have put in you as a kid, and I'm so sorry that your relationships were sabotaged this way. This was not a normal way to be brought up, and you deserved so, so much better.

What I have found to be effective is to challenge these beliefs and essentially crowd them out with other, beneficial beliefs. Curate an online experience that helps you with this.

As you probably know by now, I have the capacity to be pretty impatient and mean, and one of my Weird Tricks is to channel that onto my inner demons. Like oh, this fucker has the gall to hold me back? Fuck him, I'm gonna kick his ass. This isn't to say that I'm hard on myself or tell myself cruel things; it just means that I take a proactive role in dealing with what's messing me up.

Since this is childhood indoctrination we're talking about, it's going to take awhile. And like any psychological healing journey, your recovery won't be linear; you'll make progress and then you'll have bad days where you slip back for awhile. The bad days don't mean that progress isn't happening; they're just part of the healing journey.

Searching up "how to challenge negative core beliefs" on DuckDuckGo, I can find a number of resources, including this page with a worksheet. I can also find the article How to Spot and Challenge Your Negative Core Beliefs, According to a Therapist, which might also be useful. You can also search up "how to challenge negative core beliefs" for yourself and find more help.

And again, I recommend my post "I'm in a bad place and need to get out, what can I do?" It's got a list of resources, tips, and blogs you can follow. Hopefully at some point you can get an actual therapist, maybe even get on medication of some kind, if that's a thing you're open to. But if you can't do that - at least, not anytime soon - you can at least do the other things I've suggested.

And above all, be patient and kind to yourself. You can do this. It'll take time and work, but you can do this.

#answered #trauma #belief #self image #healing #recovery #child abuse

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idyllic-affections · 10 months

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yayyy, so how do you think nilou would take care of a little sibling reader? im the eldest of two so i kinda wanna know what’s like to be youngest- plus i love nilou smm, platonically ofc.

she gets a lot of flack and hate and for what? a ship? 😭 shes literally the sweetest character to ever exist in this fandom </3

nilou as a big sister.

summary. what would nilou be like as a big sister?

trigger & content warnings. none applicable.

tropes, pairings, fic length, & other notes. fluff. nilou & younger sibling!reader. 0.4k words. they/them pronouns for reader.

author's thoughts. FR i dont understand nilou hate?!?!?!? shes so earnestly sweet. i can't understand why people would hate her when she's done nothing wrong!!! as the youngest of two i will do my best to provide you the Younger Sibling Experience 💪

nilou is a very kind and easygoing older sister. she's the kind of person that encourages them to work hard, but is also equally encouraging when it comes to them needing a break.

i feel like she would always validate her sibling's emotions. oh? they're upset but really aren't sure why? well, that's okay. even she feels like that sometimes. maybe that just means it's time to rest.

she would love to take a lil nap with her sibling underneath the sun.

she's 100% the therapist sister.

she'll always find the time to listen to her sibling vent their frustrations. she may offer solutions if that's what they want, or if they just need someone to listen, she'll nod along as they talk, wordlessly letting them know that she is payint attention.

she also has all the patience needed to teach her baby sibling methods to manage their emotions.

speaking of emotions, nilou always encourages her sibling to express them! she never wants them to suppress or bottle up their feelings. it isn't healthy. she doesn't want that for them.

she's the shoulder to cry on.

if they ever just need to cry it out, she'll be there, tenderly guiding their head to lay on her shoulder or in her lap.

i feel like nilou and her sibling would make super cute friendship bracelets for one another!

i think she would want to travel teyvat with her sibling one day. she wants to see the world and she also wants her sibling to have those enriching experiences, those experiences which expose them to other cultures and ways of life.

i also like to think that she would love doing her sibling's hair! she would find it to be both very relaxing and a nice way to bond with them. <3

^ she's so careful and gentle when she does it, too. she never tugs too hard or does anything to make their scalp sore, and if it ends up being sore regardless? she'll gingerly massage the tension out.

definitely would be the kind of sister to sneak her sibling extra sweets even if a parental figure said no LMAO

she would be overjoyed if her sibling shared her interest in dancing!

like, she would take them under her wing and teach them everything she knows about dance. she would be so excited.

imagine nilou's sibling trying to mimic her dances when they think she isn't watching but she really is from behind a corner ahdjhekehgjg....

it would warm her heart tbh. she would be so overwhelmed with joy and love for her sibling that she might cry.

nilou is generally a very good sister.

she's kind, empathetic, and always has her sibling's best interests in mind.

her sibling definitely couldn't ask for better.

please consider reblogging, it helps me out quite a lot!

#aphelion's headcanons 🌸#favoniuslibrary #astronetwrk #platonic genshin x reader #platonic genshin impact #platonic genshin impact x reader #genshin x reader #genshin impact x reader #nilou x reader #platonic nilou x reader

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ashleywool · 1 month

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"I LOVED THAT SHOW"

I wore my How to Dance in Ohio hoodie to church today. It's Palm Sunday and we did our customary palm procession from Duffy Square into the building, which is nice and all except winter decided to come back and bite my skin off again...so that sweatshirt seemed like the best choice as warm enough for the weather + can fit under my choir robe + won't get swelteringly uncomfortable once we're inside at the service. It did the job. Truly the ultimate transition piece. Get yours today while supplies last.

At fellowship afterwards, someone from the congregation that I didn't know--she's only in NYC part of the year--pointed out my sweatshirt and said "I LOVED THAT SHOW!"

It took her a moment to recognize me (she initially confused me for Madison, which, yeah that happens, I'll never be mad about it), and we had a lovely chat about the show. And what I noticed after walking away was...the subject of autism, or me being autistic, didn't come up at all.

I love and cherish the advocacy aspect of my work on HTDIO. I love and cherish the opportunity it gave me to be the autistic representation I wished I'd had growing up. But I have to say, it was SO nice to have someone, a total stranger, talking about the show and loving the show independent of The Autism Part.

It was wonderful being part of discussions about diverse representation, and I will never turn down opportunities to eagerly participate in those conversations. But I really wanted us to stick around long enough that the "novelty" aspect of "autistic characters played by autistic actors" (or even "canonically nonbinary/genderqueer characters") would wear off sufficiently for more people, so they could focus on the story and the characters and the music and all the other things that make our show great irrespective of the Representation aspect.

I've had a ROUGH few weeks, y'all. Truthfully, I've been going through one of the worst depressive episodes of my life. Aside from the obvious grief factor and logistical stressors, it turns out that post-operative depression is absolutely a thing. While I'd like to think I'm cognitively and emotionally mature enough to handle this level of change, especially considering how lucky I am to have robust support systems in family, friends, and healthcare practitioners, my very autistic nervous system has had a difficult time letting the sympathetic part cooperate with the parasympathetic part. So I've been a ball of tension, exhaustion, and worst of all, that soul-sucking apathy where nothing seems enjoyable or interesting, but maybe it would be if I had the energy to be interested.

It's helped to find a great physical therapy clinic that is giving me comprehensive, multi-pronged care and NOT charging me copays (because apparently my insurance pays them excellently--thank you, Equity-League and Cigna). It's helped that I got back in touch with a therapist I had seen years ago on BetterHelp (she's since left the platform and honestly, GOOD FOR HER). It's helped that I have parents with the means to help me out financially--and, crucially, the means to keep me accountable without resorting to pressure and guilt-tripping. It's helped to still live in a city where financial assistance isn't excruciatingly hard to come by if all else fails (at least compared to other states). It's helped to have agents submitting me for tons of exciting projects, and having several cabarets and readings to look forward to in this time of transition. It's helped to have a really chill, supportive church community keeping me spiritually grounded without buying into the yt American evangelical toxicity. It's helped to have my cats.

But sometimes, what makes me the happiest of all, is hearing "I LOVED THAT SHOW!"

I'll never not be proud to be known for How to Dance in Ohio and everything we stood for. I'm proud that the love was real, and the quality of the material reflected and reverberated that love. I'm proud of the representation aspect, and I'm proud that it wasn't just about that. And people who saw it, saw all of that.

It's so comforting to know that we shared this show with enough people that it's going to continue to matter.

People aren't going to forget.

I love that for us.

By the way, it was too cold to really show it off, but this is the shirt I wore underneath the sweatshirt. :)

#how to dance in ohio #htdio #broadway #musical theatre #spectrum club 7 #htdio musical

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drpoisonoaky · 6 months

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A good psychologist is hard to find especially when you’re a bat-something. So go to Ivy’s house and pay a visit to the best therapist in Gotham: Harley Quinn

---------[Barbara Gordon]

Harley: Hey Babs.

Babs: Hi.

Harley: You’re are late but damn you look happy.

Babs: Guess therapy is really working.

Harley: Mmm.

Babs: Truly.

Harley: I know I’m good but I’m not that good.

Babs: Harley I don’t know what you are assuming.

Harley: I’m not gonna make you talk if you don’t wanna. But I know why somebody got that smile, you know when me and Ives started to you know I worn the brightest smile that any person coul-

Babs: You know Dick and I aren’t together anymore, right?

Harley: Oh I know, he’s in that weird fase of “all of the redheads are evil” so I connected the dots.

Harley: Now he gets exposure therapy every time Pam opens the door.

Harley: But I had a question though.

Babs: What?

Harley: When you have to go to National city do you call her and she fly you or do you go like a regular person. Cause lemme tell ya Ivy loves the first one sooo much not cause is gayer, which I think gives it extra points, but cause is much better for the environment than plains or cars. Well assuming she doesn’t pollute the air cause we nev-

Babs: I don’t know what you are talking about and I’m here for therapy so…

Harley: I see…

Harley: What time is it? Omg I have to water Ivy’s tomatoes and feed the babies.

Harley: I think we should do your session tomorrow or maybe next week cause you know information is really important and it looks like you don’t wanna talk…

Babs: Are you really postponing my therapy session if I don’t tell you about my love life right now?

Harley: Your neck is cover in hickeys, the rogues are literally shitting their pants cause the super blonde is here and I won’t be able to focus if I don’t know the whole story.

Babs [face completely red]:

Harley: Pretty please?

Babs:

Harley:

Ivy [from other room]: Oh c’mon we want to know don’t be a prick.

Ivy: Especially how you go to National city.

---------[Kara Zor-El Danvers]

Kara: Hi?

Ivy: Shit shit shit I promise that thing with superman only happen once. I was young, I was lost, I have power and you know difficult times.

Kara: Is Harley Quinn here?

Ivy: Oh…she’s good now, I promise. Take me instead I’m more evil yesterday I punched an-

Kara: Oh nonono I’m not here as a hero. I’m here for therapy.

Ivy: Oh thank god.

Harley [who has just enter the room]: RED WHO’S THERE I HAVE MY BAT AND A FICUS!

Kara: Oh hey!

Harley: HOLY MOLLY GUACAMOLLY the super blondie.

Kara: I was talking with batgirl the other day and she talked a lot about how you are helping her. So I thought why don’t you tried what’s the worst could happen.

Harley: I- YES YES YES OF COURSE.

Harley: Wait so Babs thinks I’m good?

Kara: DO YOU KNOW HER REAL IDENTITY?!

Harley: I mean yeah, but I don’t need to know yours no biggie.

Harley: also I assume you know hers cause you and her [lace her finger(same way babs did with her to hint that her and ivy are roommates)] just you know wink wink.

Ivy: Do you just said wink wink instead of saying it?

Harley: It’s more organic.

Kara: Oh well yes and yes she is… awesome.

Harley: So no worries blondie and come here it’s therapy time.

#batgirls #batgirl #barbara gordon #harley quinn #harlivy #poison ivy #supergirl #kara danvers #kara zor el #oracle #batfamily #batman #karababs #babskara #supergordon #lgtbqia+#lgbtq #batgordon #i’m fighting for supergordon/karababs/babskara

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shallowcrypts · 1 year

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Avoidants are unfairly demonized.

And you know what? I’m sick of seeing anxious-attached folks being treated as if they’re fully the victim and totally blameless.

They just cannot ever admit that they might make mistakes, especially serious ones. Can't apologize. Self righteous as hell, and so, so blaming. It's such bullshit. It’s so often that the avoidant partner is forced to take “accountability” for whatever the issue and the AP gets to be relieved that its “not them” and they don’t have to look at their own outrageous behavior that may have contributed to the original issue.

AP’s get all the sympathy because they are usually the loudest, therefore we all have to center around their feelings. It's not that the avoidants DON’T want help, it's avoidants are more likely to avoid and if someone doesn't like conflict and the AP is constantly having a temper tantrum... so who is going to get heard? Have the most attention to their problems?

I was recently talking to a friend about couples therapy with her avoidant partner & even in listening I could tell that she didn't realize how much she dominated the therapy sessions, while simultaneously complaining he wasn't there enough. When he finally broke down and cried about something she had said, her response? You've never cried about that before but it bothers you NOW?

And that’s the thing, it's never good enough for APs. It is hard to be a person when an AP is suffocating the room, and it's easier for them to blame avoidants because we are the only people who will continually put up with their shit, because we ignore it and somehow they are the victims in that too. The goal post is forever changing with them, and nothing is ever good enough. They complain and put pressure on to be, think, feel a certain way and when you manage to come close, you're still somehow in the wrong. I would rather shove everything down and suffer silently than possibly trigger an AP into an episode because THAT is pure psychological torture.

And don’t even get me started about how they then proceed to be the "humble brags" of self-work:

"I just have too big of a heart and I over-give because I'm too generous.”

If all the APs I've known ACTUALLY took accountability it'd sound like:

"I make comments with the intention of making you feel ashamed and guilty so that in your diminished self-worth you might be insecure enough to come to me. Maybe if you're upset we can have a conversation or emote at each other, which is a form of connection, so I force that since I can't force you do do whatever I want at any given moment. I push and push and push and push you so that when you break A) again, I can feel the connection that comes with conflict, at least, and B) I can feel victimized by how 'mean' you are by finally breaking at my prodding. I do not ever stop to consider how this might be tanking your life and our relationship... because I always find a way to blame you for that. I have the audacity to purport to know what your problems are and your inner work should be, and though I'm begging you to open up to me, I don't listen when you do. I just cry because whatever you say scares me, and my fear is still ultimately more important than any of your experiences." APs don't "care" anymore than Avoidants as a default, though they may try too hard, sure.

The issue is that the “I care too much" gets recognized as "and that causes problems for ME” and they're like "oh look I'm taking accountability!" But they never get to the part about how them "caring too much" caused problems for OTHERS and they never want to earnestly apologize. Their behavior can be seriously, seriously, damaging to be on the other end of.

"I'm impatient, have unrealistic expectations, and I over-perform for love. I'm going to work on this with my therapist because I'm realizing now how this is backfiring and causing me pain."

^That would be accountability.

#avoidant attachment #anxious attachment #attachment theory #mental health #relationships #friendship #attachment styles #fearful avoidant

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hetalia-club · 1 month

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Finally i don't feel alone in thinking the fandom is toxic, because I had to deal with a horrible amount of ableism (for literal disabilities I have and apparently someone thought I was incontinent and basically compared incontinent people to diaperfuckers) and even still I have to hide behind anon due to the fact the fandom also has a problem with stalking too, since i have been stalked by people who made private accounts around me and screenshotting everything I said to the point I had to actually talk to someone from the Trevor Project because I genuinely did not feel safe

apologies for the rambling, this fandom isn't normal about disabled people

Honey I'm so sorry :(. Yes people are mean and something about this fandom normalizes it. Idk what it is exactly. People say it's 'always been this way' and while that's true it HAS gotten WORSE. mainly because the fandom is smaller and the assholes just sort of all form a cult together and thrive off each others negativity. They say the people with the worse opinions are the loudest and that couldn't be more true within this fandom.

Also the ability to go fully anonymous on this sight is both a blessing and a plague. I do feel that there SHOULD be a way to find out who the anon was. I myself have been consistently harassed by a Spain kin for almost 5 years. It used to really get to me and it doesn't anymore. I truly just no longer give a shit. I went on Hiatus for 2 years and they CAME BACK! Like they were waiting in the shadows and like a bond vilian just turned in their chair and were like "well well well...". It's just kind of funny if you think about it I live rent free in their dome and they don't even know me. An I can't block them because they are always on anon. So I just delete it and carry on with my life. Last year my therapist diagnosed me with Avoidant Personality Disorder and it answered a lot of questions I've always had about myself. Which means I am an extremely shy person chronically so. I take things to heart even if I shouldn't. I feel things very deeply for myself and for other people and animals. My therapist taught me some tools to try and help me deal and I got an increase in my meds. One of those was to not watch the news or actively sought out negative events because those destroy me. I just can't take it. It's a huge trigger for me and I wish it wasn't I don't like the idea that I make it about me' in some way. It doesn't really do much but it numbs me a bit and makes me care less. It still affects me sure but I feel too unbothered to care. My AI covers have been a HUGE stress relief for me and a good distraction from my feelings. But again it's just a distraction. They are little boosts of serotonin to make and it makes me happy and it makes me even happier when someone enjoys it.

The reason I tell you this is to help you understand that no one really gives a shit. That sounds harsh but please let me elaborate on that. I mean I have straight told people "I am legit too shy to function and I do not like to talk about certain things because it gives me major embarrassment that can last actual days. Can we find a new topic or maybe pivot." but they don't actually listen to me about it. And I understand that it's hard to remember everyone's little quirks but to constantly have to remind people and for them to just "Oh yeah sorry... anyway like I was saying" really stings. Because of my disorder you can imagine I have an extremely hard time speaking my mind and standing up for myself. I want everyone to like me I don't want anyone to dislike me to a fault. I will ignore my own feelings and emotions to let others speak about what makes them happy even if sometimes it does sting. So I actually very much do know exactly where you are coming from with that. Just please remember that these are strangers online. Yes they can say hurtful things but the second you close teh app they disappear. They don't actually matter. And YES I am fully aware that this is easier said than done please believe me on that.

This fandom does have a serious issue with ignoring and disrespecting others disabilities. Especially some that are not really heard about/normalized much like yours or mine. I 100% know everyone thinks I'm lying about my personality disorder being a real thing If they don't want to understand me I can't make them, which sucks but I have no control over that. I wish it were not that way but we can't change other people and the way they think/ act but we can work on ourselves and how we process harassment. I wish you luck anon, you're never alone on this bitch of an earth, love you <3

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smokee78 · 9 months

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This is such a vague question but how did you do it? I'm assuming therapy helped a lot but like. Idk did you have to unpack all of the trauma or like. Idk. It sounds like a whole lot of effort and honestly congrats. I'm just curious how you managed to achieve it

Yes thank you so much for the question!

So I started EMDR therapy in April 2022, which is a type of therapy that helps process and desensitize trauma memories, and negative beliefs held due to trauma. You don't need an exact clear image/memory of the trauma for this to work, and in my experience it worked really well for my complex/ongoing traumas (ex. neglect and long term bullying) as well as for our "one time incident" more PTSD-like traumas.

shortly after beginning EMDR, a lot of our DID symptoms began to fluctuate, some weeks they were really bad, some they were noticeably much better. this is because EMDR doesn't only happen during sessions- your brain actually continues the reprocessing being the scenes in the background, which can cause extra stress in the meantime! but the end result is worth it.

of course, EMDR comes with a lot of safety measures and checking in before starting the therapy to make sure you are safe, and have a plan if things get to be too much.

I'd say maybe a few months in, we had a big even we dubbed "the fusening" in which many of our fragments "gave up" their form as they no longer felt it necessary to stay separate. some "larger" and more dominant parts fused at this time too, some 1:1 with another part, and others just seemed to dissipate.

I'd say by 4-5 months in we'd gone from over 90 identified parts down to a nebulous 30-50. We were also nearly (80% of the time?) always blurry, so it was hard to identify who was left.

we also identified some new parts at this time, who had been dormant and stuck behind a layer that previously was not able to contact us before processing trauma.

we stuck around 10-20 parts for a whole, working our way through traumasostly chronologically, and hit some big targets. it was hard and exhausting work, and left me on edge almost 24/7. but I could tell despite the exhaustion, I was getting better. I was still getting amnesia, but switches and headaches were much less noticeable, we were no longer finding new parts or splitting new parts, and it felt like I had the control to find healthy coping mechanisms on my own with out my brain trying to cope for me (by splitting).

these past few months I've actually been on a break from EMDR- my therapist noticed my avoidant behaviours to dealing with a lot of the trauma I faced from my parents, and I have a big school exam coming up. so we left it for the summer, to reconvene in October after my exam.

at that point I'd had about three alters left, two nearly identical, the current host and a similar alter, and in the process of trying to meld, and one of the earliest alters and most developed, and distinct we'd had.

in the meantime, I started regular talk therapy with a new therapist, less intense but to hopefully get some help with non trauma processing based issues, maybe try to grapple some of the parental issues without trauma targets.

We focused a lot on identity, as, despite having over 90 at one point, I felt completely lost! I didnt know who I was, what I wanted, and who I could be if I let myself. I was trying my best to "go along with the flow", but I didn't realize that didn't mean I had to like *everything*, even if I was open to new experiences!

I learned how to be on my own and still have fun in the absence of other people. I started broadening my horizons and going to local punk shows and learning it was okay to not be mainstream and still be safe! I came out to more people about my gender identity and started the process to transition medically, and started being more open socially about being gender non conforming. I learned I really, really, hate cooking, and that's okay.

about a few weeks ago, I had a falling out with my parents. I won't go into detail because I don't think it's relevant, but I decided our relationship wasn't healthy, and I cut them off for good. I'd previously done this two years ago as well, but we reconciled and tried to make it work. but this time, it was clear the only person that was interested in changing to make things work was me, and after finally getting a taste of figuring out who I could be, I was done sacrificing myself for the sake of making them happy.

stem, the last part to fuse with beau, held pretty much all the resentment for sacrificing ourself and not getting to be ourself. she held all the bitterness, the teenage and adulthood angst, all the rage. she'd been very stubborn about it all. to the point where beau as the host (this is getting confusing to type- I'm both sten and beau now. I'm one. but I'm trying to talk from beaus perspective about stem), had finally said "look. I know we wanted final fusion. but I'm okay if you want to stay stem and we'd changed our minds. we don't have to final fuse to still be an advocate for compassion towards those who choose final fusion, and we're not betraying ourselves or anyone else if we stay separate."

stem said "thank you" to this, which was the first time she'd shown any genuine positive emotion towards beau or the rest of the system. (she was a persecutor at one point, turned to no role/sort of protector ish role).

beau was shocked, as he never thought stem would let go of the bitterness she'd held to the rest of the system, the fact that she'd gone dormant and lost the host role at one point, and many other traumas.

there was genuine understanding and compassion towards each other as individual parts.

that night, stem was around and feeling list and hopeless about the reason we'd cut off our parents again. we vented to our friends, they listened, validated our feelings and... we felt better. the feelings laid to rest a little, though the grief was still fresh.

we left the conversation, and noticed we had a headache+foggy feeling we usually associated with a split. we commented to a friend we may be splitting, which hadn't happened in a while, but was understandable with the stress we were dealing with

except. it wasn't a split. we fused. stem was heard by herself and her system, and validated and respected by her friends. despite losing her adoptive family (not blood- we were adopted at birth), stem had found acceptance and love from our new chosen family and friends. that was enough to let go of the hate and bitterness and rage and let herself be one with the full range of emotions and personhood final fusing could give us in this way. I also use Stem as a preferred name in addition to Beau now, which I feel is fitting. I'm them, they are both a part of me even though we're all one now.

I hope this answered your question! one other thing to note, through a lot of hard work and cooperation, we were previously able to fuse a fragment and an alter together before any therapy, with a lot of help from those who'd already experienced fusion. it's not impossible to fuse some alters on your own. (though I would say it would be very unlikely to final fuse without outside help)

#syscourse #final fusion #did #osdd #didosdd #actually did #actually osdd #plural #pluralgang #diary #recovery #living with cptsd

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velvette3 · 8 days

Text

Draft #2

WARNINGS: long post, rant post, mentions of sh and suicide, and a lot of other things, personal rant(s), LIKE REALLY LONG POST, please do not read unless you think you are comfortable with repetition, and idk what else. I am a warning in itself.

(4/2/24) (mentions of sh and suicide)

It’s 1:38 in the morning. I don’t really know anymore. I’m just so worried I won’t amount to anything. My stepsister has always been better than me at everything. I still remember my middle school and high school years when I heard my mother and step-father talking shit about their kids, about my step-brothers. But I hardly ever heard them utter a bad word about my step-sister. I became something I didn’t want to be in my high school years, in hopes I could live up to my sister, hoping maybe it would make sure I wasn’t the next kid they talked shit about.

I already knew at the time that they didn’t really take me seriously back then. Not when it came to my morals anyways.

At times when one or the other was driving, I would have to text the other. And that was when visiting my father was mandatory. So every once in awhile, the message would pop up “you pick up the brat yet?”

I know they never meant it in that way. At least I hoped not. But honestly being someone I wasn’t, and being someone I’m not still, to this day, it sucks. I hate having to pretend to my parents, even to this day, despite my independence. I’m just so worried about acceptance, that I find it hard to face them. I fear telling my parents (on both sides) anything.

Mainly, because when they first found out about the self harm in middle school, it was a difficult situation. They said they wanted to help me. And then they took me to a therapist for a total of three-five times before they said ‘this isn’t working fast enough’ and pulled me out of it. I was always scared of being yelled at when I made mistakes. That lead to me fearing ever telling my parents anything, including my own emotions.

For a long time, once I finally lived with my mother again, I never saw her cry. I only ever saw her angry, or happy. But I never saw her sad. That made me think that being sad wasn’t normal, or that, I shouldn’t be sad about anything because she wasn’t. The reason she hid any of her sadness was because she didn’t want her own child worrying about her.

But her hiding her own emotions from me made me feel like I had to suppress mine as well. So I never trusted my parents with my emotions, either.

But I guess it didn’t help that they always said I was either ‘overreacting’ or just being a ‘drama queen’. Go this day idk if they were right, or if they were just, avoiding it.

I don’t know which one I’d want it to be. Because if they were wrong, and that my emotions were actually valid, what would that mean for me? For them? Would it make it seem like they had neglected my own emotional and mental well-being? If they were wrong, if they thought because of my overreacting and drama queen the fancies that my emotions weren’t valid, then what is the limit to validate emotions? What would it have taken for them to stop accusing me of overreacting or being a drama queen?

They never made me feel valid. They still don’t. The only good throng I’ve done so far with my life, is get good grades. It’s been so long since I heard one of my parents (step or not) say they were proud of me, so when they got the letter in the mail about my good grades in online schooling, when that happened and they said they were proud, I almost cried.

It’s strange.

For a long time back in middle school-high school, I desperately wanted to die. I didn’t want to live in a world where everyone would judge me for my smallest of mistakes and ignore my feats.

I knew that, being the youngest, I was my parents last chance to have a child they were proud of. Everyone else but my stepsister had failed to be a kid that my parents were proud of (or at least didn’t talk shit about). I knew that if I didn’t want to be talked shit about, I’d either have to leave, or change.

I was so done, with the world. I hated myself for my failures, I hated the way I had been raised. But I also hated myself, because I had no reason to. Im not living on the streets, I have a family, I have food, I had shelter. I shouldn’t have been sad. “It couldve been worse”, as the mentality goes. I didn’t deserve to be sad, and it made me feel worse. I felt like all I was doing was trying to gain attention, even though that’s not what I wanted. I thought I was being selfish because of my own emotions, and it still gets fucked in my head sometimes.

Back in my freshman year of high school, a girl (which for the sake of her identity and name I will not be naming), had hung herself in her closet. Rumor was because she was having problems at home.

Way back in middle school, even. A girl in my 8th grade year tried to kill herself. She planned it all out. She wanted to hang herself in the bathroom, and if she couldn’t do that, she had some sort of sharp object to try and slit her throat. She couldn’t hang herself, and she cut her throat, barely enough to bleed. It was not deep or long enough to kill her, only to sting. When her parents saw the injury on her neck, she got in trouble for it, and was threatened to sent to a mental hospital, with padded walls.*

I knew both those girls, in a sense. And I knew that the one from high school had it worse than I did. I felt shitty. I felt like I had no reason to be sad.

Like I had no validation, because I wasn’t supposed to show that much emotion in front of others, because what I learned from my mother without her knowing, was to surppress the sadness. I want to amount to something, I want to be something my family can be proud of. I don’t want to be the next disgrace, I don’t want to be the person without control of her emotions. I don’t want to become a failure because I lost, or because I couldn’t do what I needed to do.

4/5/2024

Time is going by so quick, it’s killing me. Just today with my grandmother. I went to stay with my father for the weekend, so I’m going back to her house Sunday night to spend the eclipse with her. But as she left the house which I’m staying with my father and his girlfriend, I feared ‘what if this is the last time I see her?’

She is less than 20 years younger than my GREAT grandmother who died only a few months ago.

I love this grandmother with all my heart (I’ll call her grandma J from now on), and I’d hate to see her die, at all. I’m literally going to see her on Sunday, only two days from now, why am I worrying so much? Why did I wonder if it would be the last time I see her?

I’m so scared. I’d be lost without her, she has been my rock for a long time. Even though she is heavily Christian, and I don’t feel as connected, I always feel better after spending some time with her, (whether we speak of God or not). I grew up, spending every other weekend with her instead of my father, because he wasn’t able to take care of me where he lived for a long time. I lived with Angela (another grandmother of mine who I HATE) for the first seven years of my life. Spending every other weekend with my Mother, and the weekends I didn’t spend with my mom, I spent with Grandma J. Things have changed heavily since then, I barely remember that time in my life.

But my grandma J. She means everything to me. I always leave her house happier than when I left it. No one else does that for me.

I’m so, so fucking TERRIFIED, of who I’ll be, where I’ll be mentally, when she’s gone.

I’m so so scared…

(4/8/2024)

It’s 12:41, so technically eclipse day. Had a serious talk w my grandmother. I told her I was Ace, (not the pan-romantic part, but yk) and she was pretty okay w it. Especially when I told her I wasn’t gonna have children of my own creation (I might adopt, cause I wanna make a home to those kids who don’t have one yk?) and I just got really emotional. It doesn’t matter how many times I fucking say it, I am so scared to lose her. I cried, thinking this may be the last time I see her. You never know. She almost got hit on her way to see me on Thursday last week! I know she might be gone soon and I am not ready for it. It may be a last time for everything, and I’m so so so fucking scared words can’t even describe it. Not through type/text. If I were recording myself, you’d hear my ugly crying, and my voice in general breaking so no. But the point is, I dunno what’s gonna happen. My future, and hers, scares me to death. When she’s gone… I may as well be too.

So if I disappear for a long time, you will know why.

If I go batshit crazy (whether it’s lashing out, or self-isolation, or pretending to be fine [ya know, the stages of grief]) you know why.

This woman is one of my few rocks. My grandmother, and my eldest blood brother, who I shall call ‘E’ for the sake of keeping their identities secret.

I, don’t know what’ll happen to me once either of them are gone. Same with my parents, but I trust my brother and grandmother more than I do them, so it will be harder to lose them, as much as it may seem crazy to say.

I’m scared. I know I keep saying it, but every day I spend, is another closer to my grandmother’s inevitable death. I hate the thought, yet it keeps coming back since my GREAT grandmother died a few months ago. It’s not fun.

I hate feeling this terrified.

I feel paralyzed, like a record skipping, the never ending thought(s).

It’s horrible.

(4/12/24) 12:43 am

I don’t think I’m good enough.

I keep failing myself and others, over and over again. I want to help people, but it’s so fucking frustrating when they won’t accept it. I get it, sometimes it’s hard to accept help. But (per specific example) when I’m asked for help for the smallest of things like understanding some work, and you apologize a million times, it hurts. I hate seeing people I care about apologizing. I don’t know how to help them because they refuse to let me do so. I just, feel like I’m failing them. I can’t help them and it makes me feel like shit.

I wanna help people. At this point, the people I care about, and my drive to help them always, is the only reason I’m alive. The past few years since I last therapied someone, have been shitty. I hadn’t been able to help others and it just went by so fast, and almost without any emotion. It was awful, I felt lost. I lost my will to write, read, and draw. I lost everything about myself. When I picked up drawing again I cried because I thought I lost what little talent I had because it was shit at first. I don’t even know who I am. Am I even who I used to be, or am I a carbon copy of my successful step-sister?

I forced myself to change in high-school so my parents would be proud of me, so that I would be successful.

So I wouldn’t struggle in my future, so I could get a scholarship to college so I wouldn’t be drowning in debt like my mother was most of my life.

I just wanted a steady life. And one without the shit talk my parents would do behind their kids’s backs.

Fuck I’m so tired of it.

I feel so useless damnit. I feel worthless. I don’t want to be here anymore, I just want peace. Because these thoughts, these voice keep coming back no matter what. Telling me I’m not good enough, that I don’t try hard enough and that I’m too lazy, that I make up excuses. But when I try to say I did try, they always say I didn’t push myself enough. I dunno, do I not try hard enough? I dunno. I’m just so sick of this endless battle and I want it to be done. One day I want those people to realize it was an act. I want my parents to realize that they fucked me up. That they put too much expectation on me without their own realization. I want them to know that the therapy they took from me only made it worse. Then being upset over one singular missing assignment (that we’re hardly ever my fault) only made it worse. That threatening to put me in an asylum at the age of 13 only made it worse. That talking shit about my step-siblings right in front of me only made my fear worse. That hiding their emotions from me only made it worse. Cause god fucking damnit I’m scared of you now! I’m scared to come to you for anything! I have to contact my brother, or my grandmother! And one day I might not even have them! You say I can trust you with anything but then you turn around and call me a drama queen, that I’m being too sensitive, that I’m overreacting, making up excuses, being a liar, just being lazy, not trying as hard as you know I can, stop making things a competition.

God damnit, what am I even doing? I’m nothing, nothing but a failure. I should be trying harder but here I am, still being lazy. And I’m just blaming everyone for it when it’s all my fault.

(4/13/24)

^i didn’t move on to someone else four days later. Just because me and my bf were friends didn’t mean we were together. And I never, EVER cheated on her. Sure, I found someone new and he’s my bf now, but at the same time me and her, we both realized we were never romantic with each other. And I broke up with her? She was the one who approached me and said that she felt like her feelings for me weren’t being returned (which was true, I realized. We called each other girlfriends but I felt like she was nothing more to a friend to me) and I thought she was okay with it. Mind you when she came up to me I thought she was going to ask me to an event, but instead she called it off. I thought it would be better suited that way anyways, and we both agreed on that but I did NOT break up with her! And apparently, when she talked to me, she was scared to tell me that I offended her every once in awhile by some things I said (which she never said what do I still don’t know and it’s fucking killing me), ^because she thought I was gonna blow up at her. Apparently I fucking scared them and I don’t even know I didn’t realize they felt that way and just about a month ago I get this message on top of it like.

I probably should’ve realized I was a piece of shit. I was just like that bitch from high school we all collectively hated. God I’m so fucking sorry…

I thought we were still friends. This is a message I got from them through my old asf Wattpad account that is cringe. That I stopped checking until I saw that post today. They never intended for me to read that message so soon. They even said so themselves but fuck.

I’m sorry, to you both. I know you’ll never see this. But I’m so so so sorry, I didn’t realize.

I’m trying I am TRYING to never do this again but I still do this shit to people, don’t I? I just Fuckin manipulate and hurt them. I can’t just, spout off my trauma or whatever the fuck and shit like that! I know that now and I feel so fucking bad damnit… I didn’t realize I promise I am so sorry.

Why didn’t you say anything? I should’ve noticed, you shouldn’t have HAD to say anything after the fact I should’ve just known. Why can’t I see these things? I never see red flags, I never see my OWN red flags and manipulate tendencies until someone points them out. Why can’t I read social cues and shit?

God I’m trying, but I’m not at all, am I?

I just hate that I didn’t realize! I didn’t break up with her she broke up with me! We both agreed it was better, but I guess she was a lot more hurt by it than she let on and I thought we resolved things but. God fucking damnit.

I can’t ever do this to anyone I REFUSE! I can’t do this, I can’t put this pressure on people ever again, I don’t want to push them away. I never want this to happen again I don’t want to hurt people like this again.

I lost my two closest friends. And I didn’t even fucking realize it.

Fuck I don’t know what I’m going to do. I already apologized like a million times for scaring them with my slight anger issues, but I never actually hurt hurt them physically I didn’t realize I lashed out at them and I didn’t realize I was forcing them to listen to my problems. I thought they were okay with helping me but they didn’t say anything all because they were scared and I just.

I’m fucking freaking out, but I need to calm down. I need to calm down, and just breathe, and everything will be fine. Fuck it’s now 1:14 am I shouldn’t be thinking right now it’s dangerous.

But fucking damnit, I knew I shouldn’t have just dumped all my shit onto them but FUCK.

I need a fucking therapist for that, not my FUCKING FRIENDS.

God what is wrong with me, making my friends my therapists?

Fuck. I lost my friends, I almost have no one left Irl except for this one small friend group, which has drama and way too many sex jokes for me to even want to be IN it anymore. But they’re all I got and we stick together until the end. Most days I don’t mind it, but sometimes I hate being one of the only girls in said friend group.

Fuck I don’t know what to do, I can’t tell my bf about this or else he’ll flip, and I can’t make him my therapist, that’s wrong I was told so! My bf has had it so much worse than I have I shouldn’t be freaking out about this as much, this is nothing compared to what him and so many others have gone through.

But damnit. I DONT have a therapist, not anymore, and I can’t ducking afford one or even talk my parents into helping me get one because as said before they think the process is too damn slow. I can’t fucking tell anyone without feeling bad and knowing I’m a shitty person, because until now I didn’t realize telling people my problems was a bad thing, that asking them to help me out as if they were my fucking therapist (WHICH THEY ARENT AM I STUPID? To just dump all that shit on them without them even saying if it was okay or not?) was a bad thing.

So I’m alone, but that’s fine. I can’t tell anyone anyways so that’s how it’s gotta be and I can live with that. I have for awhile. But I don’t want to be alone. But I’d rather struggle alone than hurt anyone else because I don’t want to lose anyone else, or hurt them, or push them away or scare them like I did with these two.

I don’t want to be w/o my friends. I don’t I really don’t.

I’m never doing that again I promise you I’ll never do it again. I’m so fucking sorry I never realized and I know I’m a piece of dirt shit for not realizing sooner, and for scaring you guys to the point you couldn’t communicate with me w/o fear on your end. I should’ve known and I am so so sorry.

Fuck I even talked to my brother and we have the same timezone I shouldn’t have bothered him. Thankfully he let me go quickly. Fuck I hope I didn’t scare him off either…

(4/14/24) 10:44 pm

I’m so tired. Tired of feeling useless and like a failure. If I fail the people I care about then I am NOTHING. I don’t care about myself, I don’t I just want to make people proud of me. I don’t want them thinking I’m a waste, I don’t want them seeing me the same way I do. Please oh fuck… I don’t want to be a disappointment. I really don’t. I don’t want to hurt people, I want to help them. I feel like an utter piece of shit. I can’t ever talk to my friends about my problems again im not doing that to anyone every again. That’s why this will never be posted, I can’t hurt anyone else with my stupid rants and tendencies. I feel like im manipulating and hurting people by being open with them and I don’t want pity I do not want that, I just want them to know I’m not perfect. And even that is scary because if I am not PERFECT in every single aspect then I failed.

I keep apologizing, sounding like a broken record of an ex trying to get their relationship back but I really am sorry. I talked to my step-father about what happened yesterday concerning my friends. He said that I was one of the nicest person he’s ever met, saying how he knows I try to go outta my way to avoid hurting people but what if he was lying? Cause what if I did say something mean?

I call people idiots and jerks a lot, but I never mean it! I normally mean it in a joking matter but that’s not really nice is it? I’m reeling trying to figure this out and I just want to know what I did wrong so I never do it again. I know not to spout my problems off like I did, I know to watch what I say but how am I supposed to watch EVERYTHING I say?

Fuck I don’t care what I have to do. I’ll do anything, anything to make sure I never hurt anyone like that again. Scaring people, hurting them, it’s so fucking scary to me. I don’t want to do that, that’s the person I aim to NOT be. I wanna help, I wanna heal! Not hurt and scare. I sound like a fucking broken record and it’s pathetic.

I can’t ever post this, it will only make things worse and it’ll only make me feel worse. Because if I post this draft, I’ll be forcing everyone who sees this to be my therapist and I swore to never do that again.

Fuck man. I want help. I’m actually asking for help for once, straight up saying it. But I can’t, the one time I want it, the only time I feel I need it, I can’t ask for it because it’s wrong to do so.

(4/18/2024)

I know that none of my “friends” will be texting me in my birthday this year. I’m not expecting them to text me this year, because I’ve lost all my friends. I don’t think anyone will care this time around. At first I was excited! But getting older isn’t fun at all. People start leaving, start to say things they held back, start to tell you things you didn’t notice before. You grow apart and soon you become alone.

I realize that I should be happy my family is texting me, cause sometimes people’s families don’t even text them. But it’s kinda a requirement, that’s your fam, they should know these things. And most of the time, they wish you happy birthday as an after thought. Friends don’t do that (unless they need to be reminded) but still.

I’m gonna miss those two.

(4/19/2024) 11:31 pm

It’s almost my birthday! Hah. What a cruel joke honestly.

I miss those two so much, every time I see the one who messaged me I instantly go quiet, turn my head away until I’ve walked past them. Fuck, I moved around so much during my elementary school years, those two were the longest friends I’ve ever made.

Everyone already has their best friends.

I’ll always be the outsider.

I really am alone aren’t I? That one friend that never gets invited, that hangs back.

The last one they pick to partner up w in classes kinda shit (which, is also true atm).

I’m alone and it sucks. I miss them so much. I don’t care what that one said, I want them back I just want my friends back.

I want my gossip gals back.

My face to face, same time-zone, Irl friends who I can trust my life with.

I’m losing people left and right. I can’t take it. I’m fucking crying less than 30 minutes before my birthday and it’s pathetic.

People are without families, without homes, and I’m crying over this?

Fuckin stupid…

#Vel’s drafts #vel rants/info dumps #sorry polycule #*im the girl from middle school #I was threatened to be put in a mental hospital #threatened that they would strip search me #I was scared out of wits #I still am to this day #I dunno anymore #(4/13/24) fuck I didn’t realize I was that bad #fuck fuck fuck

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