Nikei Yomiuri has BPD: the masterpost

So I've been formally requested to make a post on why I believe Nikei has BPD- so strap in, folks, this is gonna be a long one.

I want to preface this with, I am in no way a mental health expert, I am in no way qualified to actually diagnose anyone with anything, but I am a weirdo who likes to read the DSM-5 for kicks who also happens to think about Nikei Yomiuri a lot. Everything I say needs to be taken with a grain of salt, yadda yadda yadda, you know how that all goes.

TW for discussions of sui, CSA and SH. I am not planning to discuss any of these topics in depth (except for the first one, due to just. Nikei being Nikei), but if the topics distress you in any way, I would advise simply not reading this. Look after yourself.

So, firstly, I would like to discuss how BPD develops. Though there are many possible causes, such as genetics, affecting the on-set of BPD symptoms, one of the most common causes is childhood abuse, especially CSA. We currently do not yet know Nikei's backstory and how he was 'saved' by Utsuro, but it is commonly believed that it had to do with CSA. It both explains some of his behaviors- the weird hypersexual tendencies and his extremely negative reaction to being touched by Mikado from behind, for example- and 'fits', so to speak, Void's tendency in everyone there suffering some sort of child abuse. This is mostly to explain how Nikei fits the common parameters of someone in whom BPD could develop.

Now, as for the diagnostic criteria: the DSM-5 dictates there are 9 major symptoms of BPD, and in order to qualify, the patient needs to fulfill at least 5.

Before I go over which of the symptoms he fulfills, I want to start with stating that Nikei is a particularly hard character to get a read on, mostly due to him faking his personality for the greatest majority of the game, and though I do not believe everything about him that we see is 100% fake at all times, it would be presumptuous of me to discern what I personally believe to be real or not. Therefore, I will keep myself limited to:

His actions throughout the game (plus the ones he made from behind the scenes and also what he did before the actual happenings of the game)

Nikei's bouts of anger (which he is shown to be physically unable to control)

Chapter 6's Void Theatre (since Linuj has stated that Nikei was being truthful in it and was thus is 'real self')

Talking about his anger… symptom number 1, "Inappropriate, intense anger that can be difficult to control" and symptom number 2, "Rapidly shifting intense emotional dysregulation". I don't think I need to go too in-depth when talking about how he fits these symptoms. If you have played the game, you know Nikei is shown to turn easily aggressive in ways he seems unable to control. I think the scene that highlights that the most is the one in chapter 4 while everyone is in Nikei's room- right after Mikado leaves. Nikei is unable to calm himself down, and has to cut short the meeting due to his inability to regulate his emotions properly. Honestly, Nikei in the fourth trial could also be used as an example for this.

Symptom number 3, "Frantic efforts to avoid real or imagined abandonment". The man's gut reaction to Emma, Hajime and Iroha 'leaving' him was to come up with a plan to fuck over the man who took them away from him. It's actually a little hard to express myself in-depth on these first points, because I feel as though it would just be me repeating the game's plot points or just. Describing his character, rather than adding anything new to the discussion… of course, it's also pretty obvious that Nikei has extremely unstable relationships (again, Void), so he fits the fourth symptom as well, "Unstable and chaotic interpersonal relationships, often characterized by alternating between extremes of idealization and devaluation, also known as "splitting" ". He doesn't necessarily 'split' on anyone in game, unless you count the fact that he can go from developing a crush on Sora to hating her guts in chapter 4, though in that case, his sudden hatred is more than understandable, considering the context- but I have to stress, it is almost impossible for us to know how Nikei feels about people in general, since most of his relationships are technically developed off-camera. As I am talking about Nikei's relationships, I feel like it would be a disservice to this 'theory' to not bring up this specific answer to a question that Linuj himself gave:

Nikei is not healthy with his interpersonal relationships. While this comment is strictly about romantic relationships, it is not a stretch to say that he gets obsessive about others in general- ergo, his relationships are unstable by definition.

Our fifth symptom is "Markedly disturbed sense of identity and distorted self-image"- one of his most obvious characteristics as a person is his inferiority complex, which feeds into his desire for power. To this, we can also add his struggle with his own self-worth. We don't know why exactly Nikei idolizes his hand as of yet, but it doesn't take an expert to realize that no matter the reason, his obsession with it doesn't exactly give us the impression his self-image is in any way stable.

Theoretically, I could stop here, since to be diagnosed you only need to fulfill 5 symptoms, but I am an overachiever to a fault so I'm gonna go on.

Symptom number 6, "Impulsive or reckless behaviors (e.g., uncontrollable spending, unsafe sex, substance use disorders, reckless driving, binge eating)". Now this might be weird to some of you, since Nikei doesn't really show any of these behaviors in game (again, not counting personal headcanons for this, so even if I do believe Nikei is definitely a reckless driver, I can't exactly say that counts since it is 100% based on vibes) but these are all just examples of reckless behaviors- Nikei has just significantly more personalized ones. Like, say, participating in a killing game of his own free will, or using an actual stun gun on himself rather than just pretending to be unconscious, or randomly changing key details of the plan he made supposedly months prior on the fly (ie adding Teruya to the mix when his spot was originally supposed to be taken by Syobai). Assuming Nikei has BPD actually makes chapter 4 make more sense.

"Recurrent suicidal ideation or self harm"- this is the last symptom I am going to talk about, and the primary reason for the TW at the start. This is probably gonna be somewhat headcanon-y, and if anyone wants to disregard that as such I cannot exactly fault them for it, but hear me out: Nikei's plan counts as a suicide plan. Nikei is not an idiot- he would have known that, no matter how it ended up going, if he failed or not, Nikei was gonna die either way- if his plan worked and Yuki was executed, Mikado would have retaliated and killed him in revenge; if his plan worked and Yuki got away with it, he would have died in the mass execution; and if, how it happened in canon, he failed he would have been killed, too (Mikado may have said that he would have forgiven Nikei if he returned back to Void, but let's be real here- that was a bold faced lie. He was just gloating). This plan would have ended up with him dead no matter what, and he was okay with it- which I don't need to tell you, is not exactly something someone who has never considered suicide before would do.

(Also random thought that I probably wouldn't be able to fit in another post- Nikei's execution itself is fairly odd, in the sense that he was ultimately the one who killed himself. He was the one that ran up the stairs, he was the one that jumped off the building, he was the one that failed to catch the ladder- hell, jumping off a building is a pretty common suicide method. His death is unique in the sense that he brought it all to himself- he was the only executee that wasn't tied down in any way, all his actions were truly his choice. He didn't need to run away from the Monocrows, but he did. He didn't need to go up the stairs instead of down, but he did. He didn't need to jump, but he did.)

The last two symptoms are:

Chronic feelings of emptiness

Transient, stress-related paranoid or severe dissociative symptoms

Which I don't think I can apply to Nikei in good conscience, since it's pretty hard to discern how that man is feeling at all times (other than, well, when he is raging). That would wound up being wayyy too headcanon-y for even me to excuse. Like, do I believe he is depressed? Absolutely. Do I believe he has PTSD? Certainly, but I can't point to any exact action he takes in game and point to it to say that he is 100% depressed. It's mostly just vibes. And again, I don't really need to? I have already given ample evidence as to why I believe Nikei has BPD, even without these last two symptoms.

(I mean, I COULD prove that Nikei has PTSD- if we consider his more than likely sexual trauma and his reaction to him being grabbed by Mikado specifically, someone who he considers to be a threat- that certainly feels like PTSD to me. Even without that, I genuinely doubt anyone that lived through the Tragedy DOESN'T have PTSD. Anyway I am losing track of the post here-)

I don't exactly know how to end this, but yeah! That's about it. Nikei has BPD, thanks for coming to my TedTalk.

Heavy Heart | Roman Sionis x Male!Reader

Another Vent Fic, sorry. This time with Arrowverse!Roman Sionis (Batwoman Season 2), though. The episodes still aren’t out here, but I think I’ve seen enough Clips to at least get his voice and feel right. Sorry if not (in case anyone even ends up reading this).

summary; You’re struggling with personal issues, regarding your interpersonal relationships. Roman unexpectedly shows up at your doorstep and you have a heart-to-heart.

notes; Male!Reader; Reader has Borderline Personality Disorder; Favourite Person (FP); Rejection; Abandonment Issues; Spiralling; Mild Dissociation; Self-Harm (Scratching and Cutting); Blood; Hurt/Comfort; Unexpected Visit; Love Confessions; Soft Kisses; Hugs; Little Dialogue.

It’s only been a couple of months, since you and Roman have started dating. Honestly, you’d never expected it to happen at all. You’ve been his assistant at Janus Cosmetics for over two years at that point, while you’ve been silently crushing on him the entire time. So to say that you were ecstatic about the fact that he liked you, too, would’ve been an understatement.

Naturally, as it always happened, Roman has become your new Favourite Person all too quickly and crushingly. Of course, at this point in your still blooming relationship you couldn’t care less, because you were happy, you were on top of the world when you only thought about him and the way he kissed you and wrapped his arms around your waist.

Still, in the back of your mind, this tiny voice kept reminding you that every time you’ve had an FP in your life, it didn’t end well; and it never lasted very long – a year tops, maybe. So, you were cautious, like you always were. You were hyper aware of everything you said and did around him; how often you texted him; how fast you responded to him; how many gifts you made for him and how much time passed in-between them. All so you wouldn’t fuck it up by being too much or too little. You were desperately trying to find this golden balance between it all.

The last time you had a Favourite Person wasn’t too long ago, actually. They had still been it when Roman has asked you on your first date with him. But not even a week afterwards, they had suddenly stopped responding to your texts and ignored you. They had never tried to contact you again and you were far too afraid and anxious to do it on your own accord after too much time has passed already. After all, you had already convinced yourself that they had lost interest in you and hated your guts all of a sudden.

Of course, you had tried to forget about them, which was made a little easier by the fact that your entire focus was on one Roman Sionis. Still, it didn’t prevent you from thinking about this supposed friend at least once a day, if not more, and wondering where it had gone wrong and if the same would happen with Roman very soon. It was bound to happen after all, and since this particular friendship had ended so very suddenly after not even four months, you could only fear how long your relationship with Roman would last.

Every single day, you tried your damnedest not to ponder too much and let anxiety overtake your body. Instead, you attempted to just focus on Roman and how much you loved him, which was a whole lot and far too much, to the point where it caused your chest to hurt. Often times, you wondered if it would be acceptable of you to already say those three particular words to him, or if that would ruin everything. You were incredibly uncertain, and he never seemed as though he was going to say them any time soon. Either way, you forced yourself to be patient and not fuck everything up again.

The fact that Roman had asked you out, even though he very much knew about your BPD diagnosis had shocked you to your core, but it somewhat calmed you down to know that it wasn’t a secret between you two (you had even checked in with him if he really knew upon his question). Still, you often wondered if he was truly aware of how much baggage you had on your shoulders and just how exhausting it could be to be in a relationship with a person who had this particular disorder – not only for you, but for him as well.

As the months have stretched on with barely an incident between you two, you had allowed yourself to get a tiny bit more comfortable. Whether or not you should regret it was beyond you, when your best friends have suddenly ceased to respond to your texts and more and more people around you have seemed to ignore you. At first you’ve given it all some time and tried not to jump to conclusions, because you knew they were all busy with their own lives and weren’t always in the mood to talk or text – and you respected that, you knew exactly what that was like.

But as two days have turned into four and essentially a whole week, you couldn’t help yourself anymore.

Feelings of utter loneliness and rejection overcame you in waves. You’ve been short of crying every couple of minutes; your chest hurt so much; your skin felt so tight – you desperately wanted to claw it off.

Then, you started to isolate yourself more and more. At work, you acted mostly normal, just like always – putting on this mask of being fine and a good worker – when in reality, your entire world was falling apart piece by piece.

None of it went past Roman, of course, he was way too perceptive for that. But when he asked you what was wrong, you deflected the question and said that it wasn’t important, it would be okay in a few hours or days anyway.

That wasn’t the case, though.

It didn’t get better at all. The feelings just wouldn’t go away. Every time you looked at your phone and saw all the unanswered messages you’d sent out to people weeks and months ago made your heart heavy and your chest tighten painfully. The more time passed, the worse it got.

Eventually, you also just couldn’t help wondering about Roman and doubting his interest in you. Was he truly interested in you at all? Would he have enough of you soon? Would he drop you gently or harshly? Would you even still have a job when he did? Fuck, it certainly wasn’t the best idea to date your boss, was it?

As you sat at your desk at home, preparing Roman’s schedule for the next week, your phone suddenly pinged. Immediately you took it into your hands to see if it was Roman – he was the only one who you were talking to at all anymore, after all. But then you saw that it was your previous Favourite Person, the one right before Roman. They had reacted to something you had posted on social media. They had commented on it as though they hadn’t suddenly stopped talking to you months ago.

As soon as you saw it, your eyes burned with tears that suddenly pricked them, your heart clenched so painfully and your skin was crawling. You were hurt and confused. It was all too much.

Just half an hour before that you had exchanged a few texts with an acquaintance you had on social media, which was as unfulfilling as it always had been. They clearly didn’t care about you, since they would never once truly ask how you were feeling, but in fact only talked about themselves and their life’s struggles. You were nothing but a tool for them to vent their worries to without an ounce of care in what you had to say in the least. It was a role you’d been very much used to, but it didn’t make it hurt any less.

So, naturally all of this was a lot for you to process – too much, really – and you felt so many negative emotions all at once. They were crushing you. You were in agony.

As the urge to hurt yourself to relieve the emotional pain and exchange it with a temporary physical one overcome you, you forced yourself to take a few deep breaths and distract yourself first, before you did something you would later regret.

Unfortunately, it only lasted for a few minutes at a time, as the urge became bigger and your anguish stronger.

Only a few hours later, you decided to shower and as soon as you got dressed, you couldn’t even think twice before your fingernails met your neck’s skin and scratched it open. You stared at yourself in the mirror as your hands just kept on moving, all across your neck and collarbones, scratching away intensely until it was bright red, irritated and bleeding.

For a moment, you inspected the fresh wounds.

It still wasn’t enough.

You quickly disinfected the irritated, scratched-open areas and then proceeded to take out the small blade you kept in the drawer below your bathroom sink. Then, you pressed it against your inner forearm and drew a small, deep line with it, causing blood to well up instantly as sharp pain shot through you. You set the blade down and squeezed around your wound, forcing out more blood. You desperately needed to see it flow out of you.

A few seconds passed and you took the blade back into your hand and rested it a few inches below your fresh cut.

You hesitated.

Shaking your head, you put it back into the drawer and instead nursed your still bleeding wound.

After all, you’ve already done more than enough damage.

The loud and sudden ringing of your doorbell startled you and you quickly, but quietly, walked towards your apartment door to look through the peephole. Roman stood in front of your door.

Were you supposed to meet him and you forgot amidst all the pain you’ve been in?

Nervously, you opened the door and smiled at him. It hurt to smile. You could only guess how strained it must have looked, not to forget the angry red and mildly bleeding wounds on your neck that you had no way of hiding, then.

“Roman, wh- what are you doing here? Sorry, uh, come in first, maybe,” you stammered out your awkward greeting, stepping to the side to let Roman into your apartment, while your heart violently hammered against your rib cage.

“I’m sorry for suddenly coming by, but I’ve actually been in the area and thought I could pay you a little visit. I missed you,” he replied as he walked past you and hung his coat on the hook on the wall, “Besides, I tried to let you know by sending you a text, but I suppose you were busy showering by the looks of it.”

“Oh- yeah. Yes, sorry. It’s okay, though. I missed you, too. I’m glad to see you,” you responded softly, nervously looking around the room and avoiding his eyes.

Suddenly his arms wrapped around your waist and pulled you close, your bodies flush against one another. His left arm travelled up and around when he cupped your cheek with his hand and gently stroked his thumb over it, before he leaned in to kiss you on the lips. You were entirely too overwhelmed and still a little beside yourself, but you reciprocated the chaste kiss automatically and put your arms around his shoulders.

When he broke the kiss, he looked you over. You could feel the shame crawling beneath your skin, making you feel far too hot.

“I didn’t catch you at a good time, did I?” he inquired quietly, grazing his fingers over the wounds on your neck so very lightly so as not to hurt you more.

Because of how tight your throat felt, you could only shake your head and avert your gaze.

Roman heaved a deep sigh and kissed your forehead softly, “It’s okay, sweetheart. You don’t have to hide from me,” he murmured against your brow, “May I ask what’s caused this?”

Hesitating, you opened and closed your mouth a couple of times, so short of crying again, as you thought about whether or not it would scare him off if you told him the truth. In the end, you nodded, though.

“Let’s sit down first, please. Can I get you something to drink?” you said brokenly, daring to look at him for a second.

“Water, please.”

Quickly, you walked into the kitchen and got Roman a glass of water, while he sat down on your couch in the living room. Your hand was shaking when you passed him the glass and he looked at you with such a soft expression that it took your breath away.

Why wasn’t he up and running already?

When you sat down next to him, he set the glass down on the table in front of you two and put his arm around you, once more pulling you close against him. Your sides pressed together and you allowed yourself to rest your head against his shoulder.

“You can tell me as much or as little as you want, okay, my sweet boy?” he told you softly and kissed your temple shortly.

Nodding, you inhaled deeply and exhaled a shuddery breath. Then, you started to tell him everything that’s been going on lately and how much it all hurt. Sometime into your explanation the tears that have burned your eyes started to flow and run down your reddened face, leaving painful streaks behind. All the while, Roman was quietly shushing you and rubbing your upper arm soothingly, and peppering gentle kisses on the top of your head.

When you were done talking, you squeezed your eyes shut and pressed your entire body into Roman’s side in an attempt to both vanish and be close to him one last time, before he would leave you (at least that was what you’ve expected to happen anyway).

Instead, Roman wrapped his other arm around you as well and embraced you tightly, lovingly.

“I’m not going to leave you, baby. I’m not going anywhere. It angers me to know how much pain people have caused you in your life, especially as of late, but I won’t be one of them, alright?” he assured you and kissed your temple once more. “I love you, Y/N.”

Stopping to breathe altogether, you could barely believe what you’ve just heard.

Despite your disbelief, you choked out a quiet “I love you, too, Roman. So much”.

The issues that caused you so much pain in the first place may not have been solved with it, but you felt a little more secure in your relationship with Roman now, at least. That way, you could now quiet down these nagging thoughts in the back of your mind that kept telling you that he was going to drop you any second.

Sighing deeply, you relaxed a little and wrapped your arms around Roman’s middle as you pressed your face into his chest.

For the time being, you could pretend that everything was going to be alright.

LONG PERSONAL POST I GUESS

So a friend of mine who also has Borderline Personality Disorder is currently a long stay patient due to her deteriorating mental health, we’ve been close for many years and it’s been heartbreaking having her go through all this again. We’re in close communication still (luckily she can still reach out while in there) and we wrote a collaborative piece together on the constant overwhelming emotion that people with BPD (and other neurodivergent mental disorders) experience.

I’m fine, probably in the best place I’ve been mentally (and even physically wowee) in a long time, but every day is still a lot to get through. Read if ya want, just felt like putting it somewhere and I love and trust the people close to me on here.

Having friendships and relationships be consistently heartbreaking is a particularly neurodivergent struggle.

My friendships start out intense. I’m new and interesting, fun and exciting because I break all these arbitrary social rules. I’m funny because I’m inadvertently uncouth even as I am intensely shy, I make people feel seen because I remember obscure facts about them and shower them with kindness. People say they appreciate my openness, my gentleness, that I am willing to connect on levels others may not. People can be fascinated by my brain and willingness to educate.

I always communicate the patterns I see in my friendships early on, I’m used to getting burned and never knowing why or what I did wrong and am assured by New Friends™ that it’s not like that with them. This tends to be fiction, whether they know it or not at the time.

Soon enough the vibes change, people realise that I break other social rules and it’s not really and edgy choice. They see that I don’t dial down my intensity, that I communicate directly at all points in time. That I see, hear, process and feel everything, that I ask for clarity and consistency near constantly. I have shutdowns, I talk openly about my feelings and then not at all. I shake and don’t mind the stares, I infodump, overcommunicate and miss social cues other people feel are obvious. Slowly, the New Friend™ begins to withdraw. It’s always small at first, barely noticeable to the untrained eye, like they’re trying to be kind about wanting to dial it back. I start to realise I’m always messaging first, more time passes between responses, the cadence and flow of conversation changes or I’m always initiating it and then the invitations grow few and further between.

Whatever it is, I always notice and then think this frightens them even more. Maybe it comes across as creepy, or obsessive, I’m never sure, but I always worry. When I ask, they protest, tell me they have a lot on their plate or are busy or that I’m misreading the situation, everything is fine. Sometimes it goes back to the way it was for a few days but it never matches the same vibes until the friendship tapers off into barely anything.

It feels like I’m out in the cold, there’s a window separating me from the rest of the world. I see the people I desire connection and intimacy with on the other side of the glass and I pound my pal on it to get their attention but they can’t, or don’t want to hear. I become annoying, clingy, needy for desiring the same level of friendship, simultaneously too much and not enough.

I’ll always stick around because even though as a general rule I don’t want to be part of anything or anyone that doesn’t want me, I also crave human connection and want to believe that if people had a problem with me or wanted to dial something back they would tell me, my desire for human connection outweighs my hatred of always being on the outskirts. But the outskirts are where I live, where my friendships happen, so rarely am I included on a meaningful level. I always think if I can be gentle enough, kind enough, enough of a friend, I can repair whatever damage I don’t mean to do. I always end up wounded and waffling.

It’s a pattern, they tell me I’ve done nothing wrong, it’s not me it’s them, even as I watch them intentionally connect with others around them, others around me as I am at arms length, or that nothing is off and the vibe is the same. Again I am left not knowing what happened or how to approach things for the next time.

The cycle continues but so must I.

wip reintroduction: painted cards

Vindex is last. Venifica seems to study him before speaking, as if she isn’t quite sure what to say. “You are the page, the innocent one,” she decides. “You lack motivation and feel as if you are going nowhere. Someone has held you back and damaged every attempt you’ve made. You will be best if you give up, but there is another path, more dangerous and heartbreaking, that might lead you to salvation.” Her hand reveals a card at his bicep, tilted at an odd angle, like a kite. The card has an envelope in the center, a wax seal with a strange pattern closing it. Behind the envelope, a leafless, desolate-looking tree stretches its branches up his shoulder and towards his throat. “I trust you to make the right decisions, no matter how much they hurt, because they will be your salvation.” Venifica returns her gaze to Rosai. "You should check your reflection," she advises. "You won't like what you see, but it's important."

Rosai follows her advice, struggling not to trip as she pushes past the door and into the bathroom. She stares in the mirror. Her reflection stares back. The card is perfectly oriented, from her throat’s apple to below her collar bone. There’s a crown in the center, with three jewels across the design. Five lines hang from it, the center one holding a rose. Beneath the lines are two closed eyes. Vines wrap around the card and spread beyond the border, entangling her neck and chest like an overgrown weed. One branch extends just onto her cheek, the leaves small as they die away. She knows that if she were to undress, she’d find them spreading across the rest of her body, overgrown beyond the borders of what she can see. Rosai presses her fingers to the ink and feels the tears strike against them.

The message is clear. 

She’s always going to be trapped.

Painted Cards WIP Reintroduction

genre: young adult, fantasy, slice of life, basically a coffee shop trope with just a little law breaking, lgbt+

tropes: found family, enemies to lovers, modern technology and magic, criminals running a coffee shop, every single romantic trope ever but translated into platonic terms, a lot of sarcasm

rep: poc, main m/m and w/w relationship, queer-platonic relationship, aro/ace spec characters, PTSD, Anxiety Disorder, BPD, trans and nb main characters

pov: third-person limited, rotating

synopsis: They don’t talk about the champions in school. They’re related to the goddess, and to tarot cards, and often, they’re Sifgyn, all of which are too close to magic to be taught in the classroom. In the sixties, a teacher was arrested and lost her license for it. That doesn’t mean students haven’t seen pictures. Photographs don’t work on Champions, but artistic renditions have been around since the beginning of time: paintings of a girl with a Queen card on her chest, a tree’s branches born from the border and spreading along her body. A statue of a boy with a Page card reading of golden oceans, water leaking down his legs, a ship tumbling along the waves. Most social medias will take posts with the images down, but that doesn’t spare anyone.

Basil is not supposed to be chosen to be a champion. He’s still in his senior year of high school, working odd jobs to support his mothers, struggling not to fight his therapist, dreaming of days from before the fire. But it’s as if the goddess enjoys spiting him: not only does she choose him, but she announces it in front of an audience. He and the other three champions rush to safety, but the damage is already done. They’re criminals before even getting their high school diplomas, the youngest champions in generations, and the most doomed, thanks to the internet.

It isn’t long before they realize that sitting still, locked inside an apartment building in the city, is getting them nowhere. So Rosai, the Queen, sets up a social media presence and establishes connections. Fierro, the Knight, helps her with statistics. Vindex, the Page, and Basil, the King, clean the coffee shop beneath their apartment up. Venifica, the High Priestess, teaches them to use magic. 

In the midst of the coffee shop begins a rebellion. It’s all, of course, an accident.

characters: (king) Basil Roi- he’s grown up in a loving environment, although an incident involving fire has haunted him for years now. he’s quiet and analytical, and not always the best with understanding people. he’s supposed to be their stability, but he’s afraid of letting people down again.

(knight) Fierro Knightly- a genius rescued from a war-torn country only by a scholarship. he lost a part of himself in the escape. now, he hides his insecurities with jokes (as many tend to do), but is unable to support his false confidence with action. someone once said he’d die because of his indecision. (queen) Rosai Reina- the serious, easily angered businesswoman. to escape her past, she tucked away funds and purchased a building she thought her parents would never suspect her of buying. the queen is supposed to be loving and nurturing, but she is afraid of the idea of beauty and family. (page) Vindex Insons- the sweet, kind, and shy member, someone who’s excitable and naturally makes you want to protect him. he is shiny and naive, but his past is locked away tight, too painful for him to talk about. or so they assume. 

(high priestess) Venifica Lusus- the witch/psychic who enjoys the mystery and the crime. she treats this as a game, acting as the all-powerful guide of the champions. when the time comes that her magic fails her, she’s nothing.

other characters: -Jasper: a prince with magenta eyes, in need of a lot of coffee -Siro and Carnen: two witches, rescued from the pyre -Koril: a boy who works at a rip-off Burger King joint (not Burger-King because that doesn’t exist in this world) -Noah: a student questioning their gender, “adopted” by Basil -Kan: a student “adopted” by Fierro after including him in their essay -Indela and Marigale Roi: Basil’s mothers, who run a flower shop

Vindex sets the bottle on the counter of the pharmacy section in the store. Customers are staring at him. There’s a poster on the wall, a sketch of each of the champions, reading, “dangerous criminals, do not interact.” Rosai's lips are curled with a dangerous humor as she tapes an advertisement for Charms and Chocolates directly beside it.

The boy behind the counter swallows, and very nervously asks, “Is that all?”

Vindex nods. Basil stands behind him, his arms crossed threateningly, with a look of disinterest on his features but something sharp in his eyes. Venifica is contemplating which set of vitamins she should get (and lets her magic put the discarded one back for her, openly breaking the law). Fierro is casually sprawled across the waiting seats. He’s sifting through a book on how to effectively murder a person. 

Vindex gets his medications.

Okay, so I don’t usually make any point of commenting on the writing or plot of The Arcana, even though I’ve had some f e e l i n g s on some of the more recent books. With the last update (Book XX - Judgement) though, I’m just too disappointed, and quite honestly, angry, not to.

Now, I can overlook the (in my opinion) decrease in quality of the writing. I can overlook the feeling I get that the main LI’s lost some of their spark and character along the way. But the thing I absolutely can’t overlook is the way that Lucio has been portrayed, treated, and “dealt with” in the latest update.

Why? Well, partly, because I identify with Lucio. 

I know, shock horror, right? How could I identify with someone who is constantly referred to as “garbage”, “trash”, “abusive” and “a whiny little bitch boy”, among many other negative descriptions? More to the point, why would I admit to it?

If you’re reading this and you don’t know me, or haven’t come across my blog before, I have Borderline Personality Disorder. BPD, as the name suggests, is a personality disorder that generally results from some form of childhood trauma. It shapes and affects who I am, how I interact with and relate to people, and impacts pretty much every aspect of my life.  BPD, for me, is a constant need for attention and validation. It’s a horrible, perpetual fear of abandonment and rejection that seems irrational to most, but for me it’s very real and absolutely terrifying. It’s being told you’re a manipulative, attention-seeking monster by the media and sometimes even the people who know you. It’s unstable relationships, impulsive and self-destructive behaviours, it’s mood swings, explosive anger and paranoia. It’s sometimes feeling like you’re a god, worthy of everyones respect and admiration, and other times feeling like you’re worthless. It’s being “sensitive” and “whiny” and making a big deal out of “nothing”. 

I’m not suggesting at all that Lucio was written as a character who has BPD, but I can recognize many of his traits in myself and I felt that I could understand his thinking and motivations, and the things that led to him becoming the person that he is, especially given the little we’ve seen of the environment he grew up in and the way he was treated by his parents. 

Lucio actually fulfils most of the criteria for being diagnosed with Narcissistic Personality Disorder, which is closely related to BPD and shares a lot of common traits. 

Some of the most typical signs of someone having NPD are:

Attention seeking

Exaggerated entitlement

Admiration seeking

Excessive reliance on others for self-esteem and self-definition

Lack of empathy

Exploitative of others

Grandiose and condescending 

Sound like anyone we know? Whether it was intentional or not to write Lucio with the characteristics of a narcissist, the fact is that he has them. NPD and BPD are very real, debilitating mental illnesses that affect a lot of people’s lives. A lot of people playing The Arcana will have NPD/BPD/a similar disorder (or at least know someone who does) and see parts of themselves in Lucio.  To have his character development not go beyond “I’m a self-important asshole who is only out for myself, and there’s no explanation other than I’m just garbage” is disappointing, to say the least, if not downright offensive. 

Every single person in existence has motivations and reasons for the way they behave, and the views that they hold. Think of all the most popular villains in books and movies - every one of them has their own reasons for doing what they do. Some have traumatic pasts, some have been wronged, some have a skewed idea of what is right and how the world should be. Some are redeemable and some are not, but well-written villains should at least have some kind of character development and have thought put into why they are the way they are. I’m not saying Lucio is or ever was a “good person”, and I’m not saying that he should have been forgiven or have a redemption arc. But come on, he deserved more than either being chased out of Vesuvia like a little bitch, killed by his wife, or drained of blood and eaten in a ritual with no further hope of learning more about him. People that were invested in Lucio as a character deserved more. If nothing else, it’s just lazy writing and poor character construction. 

But the worst part for me? Seeing Dana’s reaction to peoples upset on her Twitter;  “loving garbage is valid, you don’t have to try to convince yourself it’s not garbage. but also? don’t convince yourself a dumpster is actually a treasure chest, then get mad when there’s actually garbage inside and not treasure.”

No person is just a fucking dumpster, and no one should ever be made to feel that way, even in terms of a fictional character. If you want to write your characters as one dimensional, sure, go off. That’s your business. But understand that some people are (rightly) going to be upset, and maybe try to be empathetic to the reasons why. Some people have mental illnesses that make them behave in similar ways to your character, who you berate constantly. Some people have put a lot of time and money into this game, and most people playing have some level of emotional involvement. Some people hate Lucio, some love to hate him, and some people love him. All absolutely valid, and I’ve seen posts from people with all opinions on Lucio unhappy with the way his character arc was ultimately handled, or not handled, more to the point. 

So, after the update, I can see that I’m not the only one feeling let down by Nix Hydra, and it upsets me to see how badly some people have been affected by this. 

We expected more.

Lucio deserved more.

World Suicide Prevention Day: Sharing my Story

Contains material strongly centered around suicidality.

September 10th is World Suicide Prevention Day and I am deciding to use this as an opportunity to tell a story that few people know and is excruciatingly difficult to tell. I am not sure how my extended family or new friends will receive it. I have some old friends who have a general idea but have never known the details. People know I am a strong advocate for positive mental health without really knowing why. Here I am, about to be brutally honest about my story publicly for the first time. I apologize for how long this post is going to be.

I want to begin by saying that I am in no way looking for pity or apologies. I do not want anybody to feel bad for me, or to feel like they could have done better. I am simply sharing this because it has truly shaped me as a person and allowed me to transform into who I am today.

On May 5, 2013, I attempted to end my life.

I didn’t come close to death by any means, but in the moment I genuinely believed it was enough for me to not wake up in the morning. I didn’t want to wake up in the morning. I hadn’t in a long time.

I am not going to share how because I refuse to give other people ideas as to how they can make my mistakes. I am just going to say that it happened, and leave it at that.

I had only been out of my intensive outpatient treatment for three months. While my anxiety improved tremendously after completing the program, my depression worsened significantly. I am not sure if it was triggered by being placed on a new medication (a major side effect to watch for when starting psychiatric medication is suicidality), or if I just couldn’t handle the pressure of living anymore. It was probably a combination of the two. Mix that with dangerously low self-esteem, few genuine friendships, constant feelings of inadequacy and failure, and mental illnesses that were improperly treated— it was the perfect storm.

It’s not to say that my treatment wasn’t helpful; my anxiety was finally under control. The other treatments just weren’t targeting the correct problems. I was on the same antidepressant for five years and had to stop taking it on my own when I realized that it was only making me worse. It took five years to finally receive the diagnosis of Bipolar II disorder (instead of Major Depressive Disorder) that allowed me to understand why the antidepressants weren’t working. I was struggling with disordered eating. I had Borderline Personality Disorder (BPD) that wasn’t even acknowledged by a mental health professional until I was 20. In short, I was a mess.

I had convinced myself that I wasn’t worthy of anybody’s time, that I wasn’t worthy of help, that I wasn’t worthy of survival. I felt like a burden to my family. I spent most of my time alone in my room because I couldn’t have conversations without having them turn into screaming matches. I had absolutely no social supports because I isolated myself from everybody I knew in order to minimize any damage I would have caused with my company. I didn’t even say goodbye.

On May 5, 2013, I woke up in the middle of the night and decided I couldn’t take it anymore. It was time for me to go. So I tried.

And I failed.

The next morning was a Monday. I think my mom knew something was wrong because I just came and sat on the couch instead of getting ready for school. I don’t remember how the conversation went— I don’t even remember if there was a conversation. I just remember my mom calling my psychiatrist and telling her I’d hurt myself pretty badly, but then having to call my psychiatrist back myself because it was an attempt to die, and then having to go to the hospital to get checked out before they could ship me off to a psychiatric facility.

The medical hospital decided I was fine, so they decided to send me to a psychiatric hospital for further treatment. They wouldn’t let my mom drive me; I had to ride there in an ambulance by myself. There was no music. The person in the back didn’t even speak to me. Facing backwards while driving made me nauseous.

I waited in the psych hospital’s emergency department for hours. My parents drove and met me there. I didn’t want them to. I didn’t want to see my mom sad. I didn’t want to fight with my dad. It happened anyway. I was not a good person.

When they finally admitted me, there was no room on the general adolescent unit, so they placed me on a unit meant for adolescents with eating disorders. I was up there for a week and my journal indicates that my head was all over the place. One moment I was writing about how much I loved it and wanted help and wanted to get better, the next I was talking about how much I hated it and needed to leave, the next I was talking about how much I wanted to die and that it would never get better for me. It was cyclical and constantly flipping back and forth. Looking back on it, it was a major indicator of my BPD.

The doctor up there could not help me. The only things he did were prescribe me acne medication, tell me that yawns are contagious across cats, dogs, and humans, and increase the antidepressant I had just started to quickly that it made me physically ill. It took days to get antibiotic medication for my injuries. It was gross.

After about a week, I was transferred to the general adolescent unit. The transition was not smooth. They did not tell me I would be leaving the other floor until the time came for it to happen. I had to pack all of my things to be moved. I was having a panic attack as it happened and when you hyperventilate for so long, the lack of oxygen to your extremities makes it nearly impossible to move your hands. They saw it as an act of resisting so they had security closing in on me (at least it felt like it), which made my panic attack even worse. I had a genuine fear of men and it was terrifying to have someone so large and strong be so close when I was completely vulnerable.

Downstairs probably would have been fine if my roommate hadn’t threatened to hurt me the first time I saw her. She didn’t, but it was a constant fear of mine. We had a lot more therapeutic groups and less free time than upstairs.

My visits were not good. I truly believed that I was not worthy of love from my parents and unconsciously did things to try to prove it to them (thanks, BPD). I was a horrible daughter. I said horrible things. I physically and verbally lashed out at home. I needed them to hate me to the extent that I felt like I deserved. They never did. One of the worst feelings in life is looking back on how many times I made them cry.

While I seemed to be doing better (to my doctors, my family, the milieu staff), I was still fighting suicidal thoughts on the inside. Pretending to be okay became my default setting, as I had already spent two and a half years perfecting the art. It really sucks when people only see the outside and then don’t believe the truth. Working in a psychiatric hospital now, I can say that it probably seemed like I was trying to sabotage my discharge and get them to keep me longer. In reality, I just wanted more help.

One evening, the roommate that I was afraid of changed rooms. I woke up to a new person sitting at the end of my bed staring at me. She had taken my glasses from my cubby and placed them on my chest. It was the most uncomfortable moment I have ever experienced in my life. I had nightmares about it. Luckily, that was the day I ended up getting released.

My discharge didn’t go smoothly. I was not ready. I clawed at myself. I yelled at my parents. I cried a lot. The only good thing was that I got to breathe fresh air for the first time in two weeks. When I got home, I barricaded myself in my room. I screamed. I cried. I pushed my dresser over and it destroyed all of the knick knacks my grandmother had gifted me over the years. I still haven’t forgiven myself for this.

Once the two weeks were up, I went back to school as if nothing happened. I don’t think many people noticed I was gone. Those who did notice didn’t ask questions. I went to therapy twice a week. I finished the school year. A month later, I moved away from the only place I’d ever known.

There are still days where things are bad. There are still days that I wish everything would end. Now I am on the right medication, am actively involved in my treatment, and am pushing to be the best I can be so I can use my experiences to help other people. I have the skills to push past these feelings and the resources to turn to if I feel that I can’t. I am no longer afraid to reach out for help before I am in too deep.

For anyone who is struggling, I can truly say that things get better. Without this experience, I would have never realized how desperately I want to help others get through similar struggles. I would have never found who I really was. I would have never found who I wanted to become.

If you are still reading, thank you for listening to my story. If you need support, resources, or don’t know where to start with getting help, don’t hesitate to reach out to me. If you need a friend who gets it, I got you. I’m here to listen to anybody who needs it. My goal is to spread hope.

I survived. Back then, I truly wished I hadn’t. Now, I am eternally grateful that I did.

30 Questions

Tagged by @smiling-in-spanish

Gender: female

Birthday: 13th of February

Last movie seen: hmmmm not sure it might have been Bad Moms 2 a while ago cos I’m more into shows than movies

What do you post/reblog: politics and… Wow I have no idea what else. Self-loathing rants?

Last thing you Googled: “Jughead’s birthday” (lol I’m a piece of trash. Pls don’t judge me for watching Riverdale!)

Favourite blog: idk if this means to tag someone or not but I honestly don’t have a favourite, I guess stuff that matches my political views? Of like taking care of people and recognising that some people need more care than others cos we structured the world deliberately to hurt them?

Dream job: getting paid to binge watch shows and nothing else. Nah ok for real… Maybe counselor/‘therapist’, or paid revolutionary. Lol. (Not kidding though.)

Dream trip: away from my family. Nah it’s love to go back to Canada and see the people I met at the conference again - essentially just redo that trip hahaha. Or do something similar, a political conference, but in a Spanish speaking country and I could stay on afterwards to work and learn the language properly.

Bonus! More realistic dream trip - taking my brothers up north to see the treaty grounds and do a whole history journey to teach them about colonisation in NZ, pre-European Maori history, the NZ wars, the signing of the Treaty of Waitangi, and everything else that I can squeeze in. They need to know. Ooooh and taking them to Waitangi on Waitangi Day. (Non-NZers will be confused by this entire paragraph but it’s v v important in terms of the past, present and future relationship between Pakeha/white and Maori/Indigenous NZers)

What would be your first entry in a new diary:

“I’ve done this too many times and I’m not giving you a whole backstory on my life to start off this diary. If you’ve reading this and you don’t know me then you must be a historian (if so why the hell are you reading this?) so you can research for yourself.

Nothing is good enough. The world, my life, my family and me.”

Top 3 things you love about yourself:

Ummmmmmmm I care about the world a lot a lot a lot. My hair’s nice I guess? Don’t love it though…. Idk. Oh, I’m a damn good mum friend.

3 things you wish you knew how to do:

Speak Te Reo Maori, speak Spanish, do the splits

Something you wish you had discovered/invented first: I don’t get the question really. If I wanted to make something but it already exists then I’m glad ya know? But maybe the #metoo movement?

3 qualities you like in a person: same as @smiling-in-spanish actually - sense of humour, kindness, intelligence. But kindness doesn’t have to be so much on a personal level as on a social/political level if that makes sense

3 qualities you dislike in a person: selfishness is a bit… Urgh. And arrogance, arrrrrggghhhhh so frustrating. And overdramatic/attention-seeking tendencies. It’s funny though cos all of those I hate but in some ways I wish I could be - even though it’s such a big fear of mine that I’m all 3, at the same time I wish I could be more of all three cos I’d get more attention.

Favourite planet: Earth. We haven’t been good to her but she’s been good to us. Plus daaaaamn she’s the prettiest of all of them!

A resolution you make every year: I don’t really make resolutions that much cos everyone knows they don’t stick. Last yr I said to be more honest which I don’t think really happened.

Something you’re better at than most people: comforting people

Something you’re worse at than most people: choosing who to be vulnerable with. In fact just vulnerability in general

Favorite thing about Tumblr: politics. I know, most people think it’s terrible here for that but it NZ not many people I come across are talking about intersectional feminism. Also fandoms. Argh they feed my heart!

Least favorite thing about Tumblr: how cos of the social awareness I expect white people to be better about recognising our privelege but we’re really really not (especially LGBTQ+ white people cos it’s like… You can see the oppression you experience but not the other elephant in the room?) White people are so stubborn and determinedly ignorant in that respect. Argh.

AND how US-centric everything is. A lot of the NZ peeps I follow I found by literally looking through the NZ, Aotearoa, Maori and Pasifika tags and following just based on that, cos there so little here about us.

Weapon of choice: fire. It’s already inside me.

Something not many people know about me: I can’t stand my Dad’s family? Idk no one on here really knew that anyway.

Favorite means of transport: I bus everywhere but I love long car trips with my mum playing my favorite CDs

Favourite story: the time I put a raisin up my nose and they had to use a dentists’ sucking tube thing to get it out.

Chicken or egg; I just have this feeling in my heart that it was the egg

Something that always makes you laugh: my self-deprecating humour??? Not always though

What is the strangest thing about you: maybe the raisin story? Or my hand problem but that’s more just a pain in the ass than strange.

EXTRA QUESTION cos I read it wrong the first time:

What is the strongest thing about you:

sense of justice. You can take away everything else about me and that will still be there, solid and burning.

You get to switch places with someone for a day. Who is it and why? Melania Trump. I’d set the White House on fire. With Donald Trump inside. (Hi FBI if you’re reading this, I will never actually do that. Just exaggerating for dramatic effect.)

Tag: @i-swear-i-m-trying @boogiesnikasnika @restlesskhaleesi @bpd-disaster @geoswalloon @the-moon-and-stars-my-love @tapakatonga @thereisnoneedtocallmesir GO!

I’m super keen to read all of yours and anyone else reading should consider themselves tagged and tag me in yours as well!

I figured before I start blogging I should probably do an about post just on the off chance I do get any followers, although I’m only really doing this for myself if my posts help someone else later on then that’s cool too.

I dunno if I want to put my name to this yet but I’m 29 and a mother to three gorgeous kids. I was diagnosed with Borderline Personality Disorder (BPD) probably something like four years ago now after first being wrongly diagnosed with Bipolar Disorder. I did a bit of therapy and DBT and trialled some medication but none of it changed my life. I’ve been unmedicated since I found out I was pregnant with my youngest, who has recently turned three. I can mostly hold it together, in public anyway. But at home I am overwhelmed and irritable ALL the time and my brain feels like someone has scrambled it, but this isn’t new. It has always been a struggle for me to think clearly, organise my thoughts, and remember anything. Most of my life is a big blank space, I remember very little about my own childhood, or my children being babies, or any other part of my life. If it’s not happening right now, it’s practically gone.

I’ve always said if I could just throw the contents of my mind onto a wall to see and arrange my thoughts neatly it would be so much easier, but I can’t file what’s in there. I’ve got stacks of papers shoved into boxes and stacked on top of other boxes and someone keeps shredding and incinerating stuff without my permission. Trying to think a situation out or follow a train of thought is like trying to hold onto water in my hands.

A lot of things about me are explained by my BPD diagnosis. It’s a diagnosis I fought for, after being diagnosed with Bipolar I spent hours upon hours researching and I just couldn’t relate. I did, in my researching, stumble upon info for BPD and the more I researched the more I realised that it fit me. I could not convince my doctor. One day she snapped at me, ‘well, we can’t meditate for that!’ as if that’s what I was after.

Shortly after, I got a new doctor. My first meeting with him, I took all my research, my old journals, my numerous ‘could you have BPD?’ quizzes, and screenshots of the criteria in the DSM that I fit perfectly at the time. I walked in prepared for a fight and I pitched to him that I did not have Bipolar but in fact Borderline Personality Disorder and after presenting my case I was not quite prepared for what he said: ‘I believe you’. To this day it’s probably the most validating thing anyone has ever said to me. So I started on the meds and the therapy and got referred to a short DBT course and then finished other sections with my therapist. I stopped seeing her because she was leaving, and I thought I could handle things by then.

Since then nothing has really got any better and my life is still a mess. I seem unable to pin down my interests or a career I can stick to and I haven’t worked full time in eight years now, I did pick up a bit of work this year but it’s very casual and I haven’t been called in a while. I can’t even get the motivation to clean my house, the idea of getting up every day and going to work where I will have to use this fried, scrambled brain of mine is utterly terrifying. Almost any interaction with my children, who I love more than anything in the world, leaves me stressed and irritable, I’m always overwhelmed. There is three of them and one of me, and the noise is too much all of the time. It’s always so loud that I can’t think.

I have been writing it off as anxiety, as I know I have terrible anxiety. It was another thing that showed up like a beacon on the tests I did at the mental health place but I told her I wanted to focus on the BPD and so I assume it’s been noted on my official diagnosis, but I really have no idea. I used to have such a hard time that I couldn’t even pay for things myself because I couldn’t interact with the cashier, and I started forcing myself to do it and now it’s okay. I still get anxiety about it, but I can do it. Same with phone calls and meeting new people.

Other things aren’t explained by the BPD diagnosis. I figured it’s just me, my head is screwed and that’s just how I am. Then the start of this year, my son was diagnosed with ADHD (combined type). It was a diagnosis that surprised no one since we all pretty much knew already. Yet I’d never really researched it. He started out on medication and we’ve done a bit of tinkering with that and his school work is really improving which is really the only thing he needs his meds for at the moment, as he was really behind in school. And I kept researching.

Someone I know posted something on Facebook that I could have written myself, about her ADHD. I said that sounds just like my whole life but I thought it was my BPD. She and another of her friends (they both have BPD and ADHD) explained that there’s a lot of overlap between the two. I know that there’s a strong genetic link with ADHD, and that parents of kids diagnosed with it often realise it sums up their own lives too. I also know that my own brother fits the criteria for ADHD perfectly and has since he was very young.

But although I knew that ADHD is not just hyperactive little boys, that’s what I was dealing with, with my son so that’s where my research had mostly been focusing. And I didn’t fit any of that. I don’t recall ever being overly hyperactive. Nowadays it’s all I can manage to get off the couch. In school I was a good student, I did my work and was quiet in class, but didn’t really understand the work. I was a voracious reader and loved writing about subjects I was interested in. I could not grasp even basic math. I had the same teacher for two years who encouraged my love for writing and reading but would not put in any time or effort to teach me math. I eventually learned to tell time and count money with a tutor, but I still can’t do math in my head without counting on my hands or imaginary dots for addition and subtraction and if it’s not a low number, forget it, I can’t do it at all. I can’t do most multiplication or division. I have no concept of weight, distance or measurement. I have no concept of time. It seems limitless until abruptly I’m about to be late for something, again.

Im always late. If I try really hard to get there on time, I’ll be too early and have to wait around. My brain doesn’t want to work. I don’t have the mental energy for anything at all.

I stumbled across something about inattentive type ADHD. Hey... that makes more sense. I can relate to that. And that, and this... the more I find, the more I refined my search to adults with ADHD, inattentive type ADHD and women with ADHD the more I saw my life, the parts of myself I can’t explain, the parts that I thought were just me being a failure.

My kid has a meds review coming up next week. I asked his doctor how I’d go about being evaluated myself. She’s going to talk to me about my next steps when I see her on Tuesday.

If I’m evaluated and it turns out that the answer to the chaos in my head is not ADHD, I’ll take this blog down. But if it is, this may well serve as some useful info for someone else down the road who might be wondering the same thing about themselves and how this stuff works and how it feels. And it’ll be good for me to have a record of this stuff. So in the meantime, I will be reblogging my BPD stuff here and also ADHD posts that I can relate to (which is a hell of a lot) or that I think will be useful in helping understand my son, and I do not mean to offend anyone by reblogging those without an official diagnosis so hopefully no one gets upset at me for that.

I also know that nobody with ADHD will read all of this, at least not in one go, and reading it back to check for typos was too boring even for me but the rambling blog posts at least explain everything I want to say and most stuff that is relevant to where I’m at right now. Maybe I’ll do a separate TL;DR post summary.

Well I guess I might as well say it here so I can say it somewhere. If you are interested in the current status of people’s relationship and want some deep T, feel free to read here, otherwise here are the warnings: #tmi #mental illness mention

Basically I’m technically single (I’m poly and am mingling in other relations but they are so fresh and new especially compared to how long we’ve been together). I’m not gonna go into the main specifics, the best way to put it is that me and my (currently ex) boyfriend are in I guess what we are calling a “relationship hiatus.” It’s weird and we are both currently going through our phases of heartbreak, but as crazy as it sounds, it is actually needed for both of us. Yes it is scary and yes we are both hella uncertain because yes this could be the actual end, but I guess the best way to explain is...there is such a thing as being attached to your partner to the point of subconscious codependency. And I can’t even believe this myself to be honest, but it’s actually not me. Here’s the thing, I know I can come across as a fucking mess due to my personal post. And yeah you are absolutely right, but I’m also able to pick myself up immediately if someone else needs my attention, usually my family, friends, responsibilities (this one the most haha) and yes of course, my boyfriend. So yes this year 2016 was fucking terrible for so many personal reasons, but in a sense, I also moved forward. I directed a play, I at least made a small name for my self on my campus and, I found and am holding a great job, I’m starting to put myself a bit more out there again thanks to the support of my friends especially. But alas that came with bad things too, such as increased depression due to everything, including from being in the closet about my true gender for so long, and I failed a lot of my classes, and my relationship with my mother is now strained, still good but strained. I guess you can say yes there were bad things, but all the same there were great things and I was finally able to grow a bit last year. He, on the other hand, did do his own growing yes. He got a job almost immediately after graduating, not in his field but still a well paying job that he did get promoted in. But I did notice eventually, albeit a bit too late, that yes, he was visiting me a lot. And I was not asking for it. I can recall a few instances where yes, I did ask if he could stay a bit longer, sometimes a bit much because I’m a stubborn asshole. But other than that I did pick up that this was all him, and while I didn’t think much of it at first, I realized now how it was slowing him down. You see, he is really talented and has a lot of potential (especially as a writer dear lordy), but he also gets...comfortable I guess. And don’t get me wrong there is absolutely nothing wrong with being comfortable with where you are at in life if that makes you content. But for him he is like me, he has a lot of big plans and dreams for his life, but he gets really anxious easily and sorta resorts back into his bubble of complete isolation, clinging to his family and, now that I really think about it, me. *also this is the part where I talk about trans stuff, so if that makes you uncomfy I suggest you stop reading here* Here is the thing. I am about to go through a really big change (my transition) where I’m about to be needy of other people. Because of that I will not be there for him, he would have to be there for me, at one point almost completely. And frankly that terrifies him in many ways, and yes I am going to say, as a trans guy, he has every right to be. Listen, what I’m about to go through is not easy for anyone, that is just the bottom line. Not me, not my family, not my friends, and most definitely not my partner. I am a bottle of emotions through this whole thing, and let’s face it its only going to get harder from here. Transition is beautiful but just like everything great it could be a double edged sword, depending on how emotionally strong you are. I can say in all honestly that I will not be, especially after talking to a lot of my irl trans friends. There will be highs, but also very low lows. Anyway because of that, it does stand, that if he is not ready for it, then this will blow up negatively one way or another. He has to be okay with himself and where he is at in order to be okay with himself, because yes otherwise he will implode, he has his own issues to deal with as well. And unfortunately it will affect me, everyone he cares about, etc.  Sadly here is where the ugly part comes in. He did admit to hiding that he was feeling this way for about almost a year now, and it doesn’t help that I have asked him many times, “how do you feel about this” knowing full well that if he were to leave me then, I would respect his decision. There is also the fact that (and lemme just say this is not me defending myself, but we have already spoken and agreed about this) this was all his own personal doing. I am a person that when I am dating someone, I never try to outdo them. I used to do that, and it lead me to really dark places in my past relations. When I try to succeed and better myself, I do it for me and I always have to make sure there are absolutely no outside influences before I am comfortable with doing something for myself (bpd makes me paranoid of that shit). Just as I try to grow, I do encourage my partner to do the same if they feel stuck. And it was evident to me that he did, so yes I did everything I could to help him, not carry him of course I am not his mother (and never will be), but what I like to do is push people towards the right direction and let them take the next steps themselves. Of course, that doesn’t work for everyone *dadum pssh* and it especially did not work for him because unfortunately, every time we did anything together or where in the general public, suddenly he would retreat back into his bubble, meanwhile I was the one being social, moving around, etc. etc. So due to that, I have a right to be upset at him, and I like he, need space away from him for a while. And it’s scary for both of us because we are about to lose our biggest support, especially for both our mental illnesses, for who knows how long, because we both need to grow. Its not even the relationship we are afraid of losing at this point, it’s the friendship. Because yes, he is at the end of the day my best friend. We know its not gone, but it is something we have become, well for him became dependent, for me comfortable-ish??? Idk I may be an emotional mess but my feelings towards other people always get more complicated that that tiny rosetta stone ring, aka I can never figure them out. Plus it is scary to me that since this happened, I have only broke down a lot less than I thought I would. I’ve actually been...okay mainly because a lot of people talked to me after they realized this was why I wasn’t going (even tho I’m going again now just for one day). I just know I love him, and he does love me too. But we need this.  So I guess tl;dr my old bae and I are taking a relationship hiatus because he needs to figure himself out plus he is not emotionally ready for my transition (has nothing to do with my body or anything don’t even try that), and a friendship break because I’m mad that he lied. Also please if you did read this no asks like “he is garbage” or “he doesn’t deserve you.” He is great, he (and I guess I in a way) fucked up. We are human. It happens. I will accept words of kindness of course. Oh and pictures of Genji’s ass, since that seems to be what people on FB know will make me feel better.