watching bridgerton and obviously there were a lot of things wrong with the way socializing has worked in the past, but honestly the idea of a "calling hour" is so appealing. office hours for friendship. you can show up unannounced at my home between 1 and 3pm. you must leave by 3pm. I may give you a pastry. lets bring that back

Please, if you can, take a moment to read and share this because I feel like I'm screaming underwater.

NPD (Narcissistic Personality Disorder) stigma is rampant right now, and seems to be getting progressively worse. Everyone is using it as a buzzword in the worst ways possible, spreading misinformation and hatred against a real disorder.

I could go on a long time about how this happened, why it's factually incorrect (and what the disorder actually IS), why it's harmful, and the changes I'd like to see. But to keep this concise, I'll simply link to a few posts under the cut for further reading.

The point of this post is a plea. Please help stop the spread of stigma. Even in mental health communities, even around others with personality disorders, in neurodivergent "safe" spaces, other communities I thought people would be supportive in (e.g. trans support groups, progressive spaces in general), it keeps coming up. So I'm willing to bet that a lot of people on this site need to see this.

Because it's so hard to exist in this world.

My disorder already makes me feel as if I'm worthless and unlovable, like there's something inherently wrong and damaged about me. And it's so much harder to fight that and heal when my daily life consists of:

Laughing and spending time with my friends, doing my utmost best to connect and stay present and focused on them, trying to let my guards down and be real and believe I'm lovable- when suddenly they throw out the word "narcissist" to describe horrible people or someone they hate, or the conversation turns to how evil "people with narcissistic personality disorder" are. (Seriously, you don't know which of your friends might have NPD and feels like shit when you say those things & now knows that you'd hate them if you knew.)

Trying to look up "mental health positivity for people with npd", "mental health positivity cluster bs", only to find a) none of that, and b) more of the same old vile shit that makes me feel terrible about myself.

Having a hard time (which is constant at this point) and trying to look up resources for myself, only to again, find the same stigma. And no resources.

Not having any clue how to help myself, because even the mental health field is spitting so much vitriol at people with DISORDERS (who they're supposed to be helping!) that there's no solid research or therapy programs for people like me.

Losing close friends when they find out, despite us having had a good relationship before, and them KNOWING me and knowing that I'm not like the trending image of pwNPD. Because now they only see me through the lens of stigma and misinformation.

Hearing the same stigma come up literally wherever I go. Clubs. Meetings. Any online space. At the bus stop. At the mall. At a restaurant. At work. Buzzword of the year that everyone loooves loudly throwing around with their friends or over the phone. Feels awesome for me, makes my day so much better/s

I could go on for a long time, but I'm scared no one will read/rb this if it gets too much longer.

So please. Stop using the word "narcissist" as a synonym for "abusive".

Stop bringing up people you hate who you believe to have NPD because of a stigmatizing article full of misinformation whenever someone with actual NPD opens their mouth. (Imagine if people did that with any other disorder! "Hey, I'm autistic." "Oh... my old roommate screamed at me whenever I made noise around him, and didn't understand my needs, which seems like sensory overload and difficulty with social cues. He was definitely autistic. But as long as you're self-aware and always restraining your innate desire to be an abusive asshole, you're okay I guess, maybe." ...See how offensive and ignorant that is?)

Stop preventing healthcare for people with a disorder just because it's trendy to use us as a scapegoat.

If you got this far, thank you for reading, and please share this if you can. Further reading is under the cut.

NPD Criteria, re-written by someone who actually has NPD

Stigma in the DSM

Common perception of the DSM criteria vs how someone may actually experience them (Keep in mind that this is the way I personally experience these symptoms, and that presentation can vary a lot between individuals)

"Idk, the stigma is right though, because I've known a lot of people with NPD who are jerks, so I'm going to continue to support the blockage of treatment for this condition."

(All of these were written by me, because I didn't want to link to other folks' posts without permission, but if you want to add your own links in reblogs or replies please feel free <3)

It's actually really ableist that I have several expensive interests and no money. I should be given 5k a month just autism related spending money

this year my challenge for everyone is to unlearn the association between love and morality. love is not something that is inherently morally good, and the absence of love is not something that is inherently bad. sex without love isn't morally bankrupt, it's just an action. people without love aren't less kind or less good, they're just people. when we can get past this false (and often unnoticed) dichotomy of good love/evil lovelessness then i think we are going to be able to take leaps and bounds in sex positivity, aro advocacy, certain discussions of mental health...

there’s a part of me that wants to be completely and utterly alone. then there’s the other part that desperately clings to anyone i care about. i feel rather pathetic either way.

we were drunk off mezcal and my dog had his paws crossed like he was fancy and we were giggling about it and i told you that with the sun coming back i can feel my fingers again and you grabbed my wrist and jokingly shook my limp hands while saying i have you i got you and i wanted to tell you i love you in that moment but it's actually just that it's spring and love actually seems like something that i can afford once in a while so long as i'm not overwhelmed by the crushing weight of having to do my laundry

i don't get so sad on sundays anymore and part of that is you but also part of it is that i've been watching a bird melodrama in the tree outside my window - first the robins had the run of it, then the doves. most recently a family of sparrows came through. the sky was pink today like a kiss, and i felt the pastel wrap in a warm piebald snake around my chest and hum herself into my bones

thank god for every person that forgives me for the depressive spirals i go on every winter without-fail like i swear there are absolutes in this world and it's stuff like. stoats go white in winter. the sun comes over the east. when it gets cold all parts of my soul go numb and the light can't pass through my iris without a tattoo gun. how many times can i tell a friend i'm sorry i wasn't talking to you, i truly wasn't talking to anyone

thank god i can feel my skin right now and you hold my weak little hand in your hand and then you flip it over so you can read my palm and you're smiling while you run fingertips over lines and read out my fate like it says here you like a good grillcheese sandwich and admit it you make salads by buying the pre-made spring mix and i have all your astrology shit memorized and i read your horoscope first when i'm checking my own even-though-i-don't-believe-in-it (but just in case) and i want to kiss you just to watch the blush spread in a tulip from under your freckles in that way it does, how you pull back and wrinkle your nose in laughter

thank god but today for the first time in a month i finally texted my friends back and actually made plans to hang out (how's that! barring disaster!) and i let my dog put his big muddy paws on my nice sweater and yeah actually when it's bad i always think i can't do that again. i can't crawl back up that mountain

but the sun touched me on the face this morning and we had a nice long talk about it and i said i gotta go the long way again huh and she nodded and shook back her solarflare hair and looked over to her moon girlfriend and she said you can do it. better things on the horizon.

Autism is only an invisible disability because you fuckers don't want to acknowledge that a good portion of those freaks, weirdos, creeps, and 'idk they just give me bad vibes' are autistic.

had an anxiety attack last night and coped by drawing a known fellow anxiety haver experiencing my own plight in hopes the blorbo projection game would help

feels like we "broke the stigma of mental health" just enough for companies to monetize "self care"

Im back fellas

FATHER'S DAUGHTER

⭐︎always an angel, never a god⭐︎

platonic!Sebastian Vettel x platonic!redbull!driver reader

in which redbull!driver!reader's idol takes notice of her eating disorder.

cw: eating disorders, loneliness, angst, some overall sadness, a small mention of Pierre being a dick to the reader, the reader feels inadequate and that she doesn't belong

w/c - 1.9k words

based on this request !

Since making your Formula 1 debut at the start of the 2016 season, you had made quite name for yourself. You had signed for Red Bull at the age of 19 and were the first female to do so - however, your career was not all sunshine and rainbows. Being a woman in a male dominated sport was not all that it was cracked up to be - You were told to smile and nod in response to any hateful or spiteful comments you received, both online and in person; You were told how you paled in comparison to your male teammate - despite you consistently outperforming him or performing at the same level, you were directly behind him in the drivers championship table, so you didn't quite understand how you could be worse than him. 

You could ignore those comments easily enough, they just didn't like you because you were good enough to be in the position you were in, they were just jealous that they weren't. You couldn't however, ignore the comments made about your body. At first you ignored them the best that you could, but soon you found their words swirling around your head as you sat down to eat dinner, and you would no longer be hungry, but motivated to head to the gym for a late night workout. You had been 19 years old when you first thought that maybe, just maybe, you could be struggling with an eating disorder - the idea quickly left your head as you got older and the comments slowly stopped about your body and what you ate, so maybe you were doing something right finally.

You didn't bother with many of the other drivers other than max, the rest of them were all too worried about what would be said about them in the media if they were caught talking to you - talking to you risked cheating rumours, which some of their tumultuous relationships wouldn't survive. The only other driver to take a bit of an interest in you, was your idol, Sebastian Vettel - Who you had spent many Sundays in your childhood watching in front of the TV, telling yourself that one day you would race with him. You wished you could have warned younger you how hard things would be, but she already knew - the constant teasing from the boys you karted with had been enough to make your mom and dad want to pull you from the sport all together, but they couldn't find it in themselves to take your dream away from you. Sebastian could only imagine how isolated you felt in your dream career, he noticed the way that your podiums were rarely, if ever celebrated, how you never appeared to be invited out afterwards, always heading back to your hotel, alone with your trophy. He also took notice of how if you were invited out for dinner, you would always decline politely, explaining that your trainer would kill you if you went off of your meal plan - But Sebastian knew who your trainer was, they were by no means particularly strict with you and would understand if you wanted to have a treat one night.

Sebastian knew the reality of your situation all too well, in a sport like formula 1 with such an emphasis on physical fitness, he knew of the eating disorder culture within the sport - and it pained him to see his favourite young driver fall victim to the aforementioned culture. It also angered him to know that it was not all the fault of the sport, but of the media too and their constant obsession with you and everything you did. Deciding that he couldn't watch you fall deeper and deeper into the throws of an eating disorder any longer, Sebastian decided that he would gently approach you about it - He thought he had a good enough relationship with you for you to not suspect anything in his intentions; Since you had joined the sport and he had noticed the isolation you were subjected to, Sebastian had taken on almost a father-like role in your life, since you were so far away from your own family. 

But, since you were a girl, Sebastian thought it would be best to consult his wife, Hanna first - Just to be cautious, he didn't want to upset you, never.

"Be honest with her Sebastian, and let her know that you're there to listen," Hanna advised him over the phone, none of his daughters had as much life experience as you did, so in terms of this in being a father, he was not at all prepared. "She might not open up to you right away, but let her know that you'll be there for her when or if she is, she'll appreciate it." Sebastian sighed sadly at the thought of you suffering silently, on your own.

"Thank you, Hanna," He said to his wife, appreciative of how to at least let the young girl he had essentially adopted know that he would be there for her should she ever want to open up on her clear problem.

"Let me know how it goes, okay?" Hanna too, was worried about the young girl that her husband had spoken so highly of. Her heart broke for the young girl, seeing how ruthlessly the press and media tore the woman down, and how she could clearly never defend herself without being portrayed as unstable or emotional. "You're doing the right thing, Seb. I love you."

"Yeah, I love you too," He told her, hanging up after as he let out a deep sigh, gathering his thoughts on how he was going to go about this. He knew he could be straight with you, it was apparent in your attitude towards the media that you were never coddled; but he also knew that you were not the person the media painted you out to be, that you were quiet and reserved, that growing up you had a rabbit called Pierre, which you thought would have made you a friend in ones Pierre Gasly, but it only made the aforementioned driver laugh at you - That story in particular infuriated Seb. Collecting his thoughts, he made his way out of his hotel room and over to yours, which was across and 3 doors down from his own - knocking on your door once, twice, and then a third time. He was ready to knock for a third time, when-

"Oh, hi Sebastian," You greeted the older German standing at your door. Your heart started pounding, this was how your short lived friendships all ended - they'd come to your hotel room, tell you they couldn't be seen with you anymore because of how it was affecting their relationship, and that was it. But Sebastian was your idol, you weren't sure you could handle losing his friendship, not after how you had opened up about so much to him. 

"Hi, can we talk?" You noted the concern in his voice, furrowing your brows as you nodded and stepped to the side, allowing him to step into your hotel room. Sebastian gave you a small smile as he turned to look at you, taking in how your t-shirt hung off of your frame, emphasising the amount of weight you had lost. "Is everything okay?"

This was not how this conversation normally went. There was never any concern for your feelings or how you'd take this.

"Um," He could see the confusion on your face.  "Yeah, I um, yeah, I'm fine. What's going on, Seb?" You asked him, tilting your head as he sat down on your bed. You tentatively sat beside him, weary of what he was trying to go about here.

"I just noticed that you've lost a lot of weight recently," Oh God. He knows. "And I'm just concerned about you - I know how they talk about you...everywhere and I just want you to know that even if you're not ready right now, that I'm here to listen to you anytime you need to talk." Sebastian explained to you, watching as tears bubbled in your eyes, threatening to spill over at any moment.

"I don't feel like I have control over anything, Sebastian," You cried, breaking down into tears in front of the man you called your hero. He frowned deeply, in the 5 years he had driven with you, you had never cried, not once - not in front of him, at least. "It's just...I can't seem to do anything write ever. Everything I do on the track, good or bad, its always made out like I'm a bad person or a bitch. I beat Max and everyone calls me a wannabe or a show off, I come second to Max and suddenly second place is the first to lose and I don't deserve my seat. I can't fucking win ever," You ranted, letting out an occasional sob as Sebastian put a comforting hand on your back. "But, I have control over how I look so at first I thought it was fine because I was only doing it to shut up the media but I couldn't stop and now I feel sick any time I try and eat."

His heart broke for you as you sobbed, realising that your problem had had such prominence in your life years before he had even noticed. He was however, thankful you had opened up to him.

"Thank you, for telling me that, that was really brave," He told you softly, smiling gently as you wiped your eyes dry of the tears that fell from them. "I need you to know, that you, more than anyone deserve your seat in Formula 1, you worked so hard for so long, and there's so many drivers on the grid that only have their seats because of their parents or who they know, but you worked for your seat and you have so much talent. Like you said, you beat Max," You sniffled as Sebastian spoke to you, almost feeling your heart healing as you heard your idol speak so highly of you. "I know you feel like you have no control over what they say, and to be honest with you, you don't. And it is much easier said than done, but you have to ignore them, if you give them what they want, you let them win, and you of all people, would hate to see that happen, I imagine." He said, smiling upon hearing you laugh quietly.

"Thank you, Sebastian," You said, smiling at him as you looked at Sebastian. "It really means a lot," Sebastian gently held your hand, giving it a gentle squeeze as he saw you smile for what felt like the first time in forever. "Aside from Max, you're the only one who's actually treated me like I actually belong here."

"You do belong here, and I will tell you that every day until you believe me."

what’s the biggest red flag character you relate to for any reason

Yet another thing I don't see talked about in the DID community: the host anxiety of letting go of front.

Obviously it doesn't happen to every system, as some systems don't even have a host; but can we talk about the fear and anxiety about potentially never coming back to front if you fully let go, as a host? I dealt with it for a year and a half until I was able to actually start letting go and sitting off front for long periods of time. But there were times when 5 minutes off front fully caused me panic attacks.

This fear especially comes when you are a baby (newly discovered) system. This feeling that you built a life for yourself, and suddenly, you feel like you'll lose it to other people. And it's not that you want it all for yourself, but losing it entirely is what's scary. And there is usually a whole inner world behind you... who knows what happens inside of it, what it can do, who lives there? As well as, it's scary to let go of control of events IRL. Who knows how others would handle it, even if you know them well already?

And that's just our reasons.

Moral of the story: y'all are not alone, and it gets better.

-host

please stop associating the term neurodivergent with JUST autism and adhd. like please. there are so many ways to be neurodivergent and it’s not fair to assume that it’s just about autism adhd.

i feel like a doll sitting on a shelf waiting until someone wants to play with me in order to feel alive again