What advice would you give to someone who recently realized they have psychosis?
Not to panic if you're not in immediate danger of hurting yourself or anyone else. Psychosis is made out to be super scary and bad, and it absolutely can be, but experiencing psychotic symptoms is not necessarily something that always requires a serious, immediate and extreme intervention. So my first advice to you is to ask yourself whether the psychotic symptoms you experience actually put anyone at risk before you panic. Many of us do need and benefit from treatment of some kind, and I'm not saying you don't. I'm just saying not to let stigma and stereotypes make you rush it unless you're actively in danger. Because the fact that you are aware that you are psychotic is a sign that you might possibly be able to decide if and how to seek diagnosis and treatment on your own terms at your own pace which is often preferable to the alternatives. And it's worth noting that many people live decent, stable life WITH some degree of psychosis. It isn't necessarily something you HAVE to fix immediately by all means possible regardless of the details
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What are some little things that are slightly cool about a disability you have?
Hm.. I don't know if you'd call it cool (I would), but my experience with schizophrenia has given me a perspective on reality that sane people don't often have. TW for unreality? I think I've made a post about it a long time ago, but there isn't one singular reality that we all experience. Yeah, there's the collective existence of everything, but as human beings, we can only experience well.. what we experience. We're not omniscient.
This is to say, everyone has their own reality, and the closest thing we get to Reality (singular) is interacting with each other and the world around us. We share our thoughts, feelings, memories. We experience life at the same time, in the same place, and form similar yet different views on the existence of all of that. So, no one is ever really out of touch with reality... everything someone does, says, believes, makes sense within the context of their life - what they've been through, what they've been taught, what they feel and think.
The problem comes when we use our lives - our realities - to harm others. To remove their agency, invalidate their existence. That's something a lot of psychotic people go through. Even when our beliefs and experiences harm no one - not even ourselves - we're forced to change. And when we do experience disorder, we're not given an option to really cope and experience fulfillment as a psychotic person. We're just made to be sane.
I kind of miss being psychotic. It was harmless, when I was younger. Believing I was a deity or cat person or whatever, it made life more colorful. More interesting. The most distressing thing I dealt with was thinking there were microscopic cameras in my walls... and I feel like that could have been coped with. Unfortunately, once my psychosis became severe and life threatening (due to the trauma of antiplurality and psychiatric abuse) the safest option was to just get me on meds to make me sane.
So yeah. Reality is weird and I think psychotics are cool. Also fuck sanists and psychiatry.
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when the mental is illnessing
id in alt
taglist (ask to be +/-):
@glitterandstarshine @adhdandquills @ofbloodandflowers @saltwaterbells @hydrancheas @arkicts @chishiio @justthehopeleft @nonsensical-pendulum @writing-is-a-martial-art @writeblrfantasy @cannivalisms @dovebeast @lord-fallen @muddshadow @uppoffringar @houndmouthed @dream-fyre @tate-lin @redbloodprose @wildswrites @cream-and-tea @careful-fear @cyber-motorcycle
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[image description: a drawing of metal overlord from the game sonic heroes. he is facing left. the white arrows on his head are slightly running as if freshly painted. the background is plain black and dark blue raindrops. the foreground shows text which describes symptoms of psychosis as well as quotes from the game. end ID.]
as an ex-psychosis Haver. sonic heroes metal is so important 2 me ( (also loosely based off my metal/mecha/silv fanfic)
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Day 3: Past Trauma
Something random (and extremely personal) for @harringrovemovember
tw for psych ward/hospitalization/involuntary hold, suicide attempt, self harm, psychosis/brief psychotic disorder, hallucinations, medication
Billy and Steve were roommates in the psych ward. Billy had an episode of drug induced psychosis and a suicide attempt. Steve had alcohol induced psychosis at a party that caused hallucinations and paranoia.
Steve had been there for a few days longer than Billy, so he's freed from the constant observation first, and finally allowed to wear regular clothes and not the hideous hospital gowns anymore. When Billy was involuntarily admitted, he slept for 48 hours straight. Steve had done the same when he first got there, so he'd be sure to be considerate, quiet, and stopped eating in the room so the lights could be off as much as possible.
When the nurse would come in every 15 minutes to check on Billy, sometimes Steve would tell the nurse that Billy was crying and talking in his sleep.
When Billy finally woke up, Steve was on his way back from lunch with his coffee. They made eye contact. Steve stared, Billy glared.
"What?" Billy snapped.
"No-nothing. Welcome back. You've been sleeping for days."
"I don't remember anything."
"You should grab something to eat before lunch is over."
"Not hungry."
"Okay, get some Ensure from the nurse's station, then. If you don't put anything in your system, they'll keep you here longer."
Billy sighed and stood, sucking his teeth when he noticed the back of his gown was open.
"Here. Here." Steve handed him an extra gown. "Wear this one backwards so you're fully covered."
"Thanks." Billy grumbled. "What's your name?"
"Steve."
"I'm-"
"Billy. I know. I remember all the noise you made when you first got here. You cried so loud, I couldn't sleep."
"Sorry. I don't remember that."
"It's okay. I didn't remember much when I first got here either."
"Jesus. Are they wiping our memories or something?"
Steve snorted. It'd been awhile since he laughed. "No. Probably the psychosis."
"Oh. Is that what it was? Shit, that must be why they gave me that MRI, or whatever it was. They put me through a machine. I thought I dreamt that though, and—agh!" Billy held his head. "Fuckin' migraine."
"You need to eat. C'mon. Get something to eat. There're chicken sliders. They're actually pretty good. The coffee will keep you alert too."
Billy shrugged. "I guess."
When Billy's constant observation was over and done with, and he was no longer considered a harm to himself, he was excited for his mother to visit him and bring him some fresh clothes and food from outside.
When she didn't show, he had a terrible breakdown and started hearing voices, telling him he was never going to escape, and he should die. So Billy walked up to the nurse's station, being obnoxious and taking out all of his stress on everyone around him.
"Hey." He banged on the window. "Hello? I need my PRN. I'm hearing voices. Hey! Hey!"
Steve was doing his daily pacing the halls when he found Billy irritating the staff. "Billy, what are you doing?! You're gonna get in trouble again!"
"So? I want my fucking PRN. I'm hearing voices and I'm getting pissed off. My mom didn't show up or bring me my fucking clothes and-and I dunno. It triggered me or something."
Steve cocked his head, spotting the devastation in Billy's eyes. "Did you call her?"
"Yeah I fucking called! She didn't answer."
"I'm sorry. Maybe...something came up."
"Something came up." He darkly chuckled. "No, she just doesn't wanna see me." He turned back to the nurse's station, proceeding to bang on the glass. "P! R! N! Give me my fucking drugs or I'm going to kill myself! I'll do it!"
"Billy? Billy, stop. You can't say things like that."
"And why the hell not? They gonna put me in the psych ward?" Billy laughed.
Steve sighed, looking up as an irate nurse approached the window. "He's really distressed." Steve explained. "His mom didn't show up for her visit with him."
"Billy, do you need me to call the doctor?" The nurse asked.
"No. Just give me my meds so I can go lay back down."
The nurse gave Billy his medication, and he brushed past Steve, returning to their room.
Steve went to the laundry room to pick up his clothes, and brought them to their room.
He tossed Billy some shirts and sweatpants.
"We're really not supposed to keep food in our rooms, but my mom brought me a lot of snacks and the head nurse said I have to throw them away by tomorrow if I don't eat them. You want some?"
Billy slowly nodded.
Steve's eyes inadvertently fell on Billy's self harm scars when he reached out a hand for some candy.
"Do you...remember anything yet?"
"Not much. I remember wandering around for a long time. I remember...hearing a bunch of voices all at once. I remember calling 9-1-1 from an emergency box in some neighborhood. I remember crying in an ambulance and getting a couple of stitches. That's really all."
"I don't remember much either. One minute I was at a party with my girlfriend, the next, I was hearing this loud humming sound, and I was dizzy...I dunno. I just know she's not my girlfriend anymore. I don't remember what happened, or what I did, but she's not my girlfriend now. She hasn't accepted calls from me since I got here. Her parents called the hospital and had them order me to stop calling her."
"That's messed up." Billy responded with his mouth full. " What a bitch. She can get fucked."
"How long do you think you'll be here?" Steve asked, shifting the subject. "I'm ready to go home."
"Forever, probably. I'm batshit crazy and I don't have much of a home to go back to. I think it's what drove me over the edge."
"You're not crazy. Don't say that about yourself. Just cooperate, alright? Come out of your room more often, eat in the cafeteria, come to the group meetings..."
"Ugh." Billy threw himself back on the bed. "I don't want to. I'd rather just lay here and rot."
"You can't—"
Billy groaned. "There's 1 little fucking window here at the end of the hall. I can't go outside. I can't call my friends long distance because these shitty fucking phones only make local calls. I can't smoke—"
"Did you get a nicotine patch?"
"Yeah I got a fucking nicotine patch, but...I...I..."
"You what?" Steve leaned forward.
"I smoke for like...stress and anxiety. I don't know how to deal here."
"Come to the rec room. If you get there early enough, you can take over the radio. And, you can play some ping pong with me."
"Ping pong?" Billy snorted.
"C'mon. You gotta try, alright?"
"But..."
"Look. If you cooperate and get out of here with me, I'll treat you to lunch. Wherever you wanna eat."
"Yeah?" For the first time in weeks, there was hope in Billy's eyes.
Steve nodded certainly. "Promise."
"Uh...Thanks for the clothes." Billy scooted next to Steve. "And the snacks."
"Anytime."
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( part 1 ) (tag/comment what other superstitions you follow and I'll add them to the next poll!)
(follow the most often when the situation arises, or believe in the strongest)
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growing up, whenever i'd suffer from insomnia, the song sabotage by the beastie boys would play in my head and wouldn't leave until i fell asleep. and then when i was in the psych ward this summer (psychosis), i'd always put music on the tv in the common room, and i kept hearing (you gotta) fight for your right (to party) by the beastie boys and i suffered from auditory hallucinations as well as insomnia, so when i tried to sleep, i just heard several voices scream "you gotta fight!! for your right!! to party!!" in my head. all of this to say that the beastie boys have always haunted me and i really appreciate that about them.
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night night is such an episode bc as a child I was afraid of the dark bc I'm psychotic and hallucinate!! And no one would ever believe me when I said there were things moving at night bc. They weren't real!! It's such a fear of being ignored and being afraid but keeping quiet because you don't want to get into trouble.... Don't want to kick up a fuss and upset anyone so you hide in the cupboard and wait. Godbless. Callum is such a character too bc... Yeah he's a scared kid too but he's a scared kid with power now. Look at him, he's one of the scary things now, now they can't hurt him. I love Callum so much.
I love how simple the concept of his character is and yet there is so much complexity in that idea. Of course Jon refused to smite him, he's a kid! But he is now part of the fear system and is forced by it to play the part of the tormentor. There really is nothing that can be done about that and it's hard to see how much that realization hurts both Jon and Martin
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Can't trust myself
Some comfort yet again, because I've been having a hard week, and Geto is a comfort character for me. I’ve been having some trouble with my psychosis symptoms, and it’s fucking scary so I decided to write some fluff. I know this probably won’t be a very popular post or won’t resonate with many people, but sometimes I’ve gotta just write for myself
You hadn’t been out of the house a single time during the last five days. Geto had been busy and he had barely been home other than to sleep. You woke up multiple times during the night, so you knew he was there beside you, but you didn’t want to bother him, so you just let him sleep. You spent the minutes you were awake looking at him and listening to him breathe. Every now and then you reached your hand to move his hair off his face, but each time you pulled your hand away in fear that you would wake him.
You’d barely been eating and you’d gotten out of bed only when you absolutely had to. You were so anxious you could barely function. Every little noise around the house made you jump, and you felt like crying all the time. You weren’t even sure if the sounds were real or if your mind was conjuring them up.
You were laying in bed for the fifth day in a row. Since Geto hadn’t needed your help with his little cult, you hadn’t had a reason to leave the house. The fridge was starting to look pretty empty and you were almost out of food, but you couldn’t care less. Maybe you would just stop eating too. You weren’t really sleeping, so what was a little hunger on top of that. You’d stop feeling it eventually, right?
Geto had noticed you hadn’t been dropping in to see him for multiple days now. He decided to ditch his responsibilities for a few hours and go check on you. He knew you had been tired and anxious, but he didn’t really grasp how bad it had gotten.
“I’m home love” he greeted as he closed the front door.
“Suguru, what are you doing here?” you asked, as you wobbled out of the bedroom, stopping in the doorframe.
“I came to see you, I was worried” Geto said and walked over to you, placing his hand on your cheek.
“Worried about what exactly?” you yawned and rubbed the back of your neck, before leaning your head into his hand.
“You of course” Geto said, brushing his thumb over your cheek.
“It’s probably just a momentary slump, I’ll be fine in a week, hopefully…” you sighed.
“I hope so too, but I’m still going to be here for you, since you’re not fine now”
“Thank you” you sniffled, before hugging him so hard and suddenly he almost fell over.
“It’s okay, I’m here” he said, hugging you close.
You’d always felt safe with him. You’d always felt like you could tell him anything, so why was this so hard? He knew about your previous troubles with psychosis, so why was it so hard to tell him you were having a more active episode again. It had been a few years since the really bad phase, but it’s not like the symptoms had ever completely gone away. Your mind was starting to act up again, and it was scary as hell. Not being able to trust your own brain was scarier than any curse.
“I’m having trouble again Suguru. I keep hearing sounds and seeing things. I’m scared and paranoid constantly and I don’t know what to do” you muttered into his shoulder.
“That explains why you’ve been so anxious and stressed lately. How long has this been going on?” he asked
“About a month” you admitted as you took a step back from him, grabbing his hand and holding onto it.
“A month? Why haven’t you said anything?”
“I was hoping it would go away, but it seems that’s not the case” you looked down at his hand and squeezed it.
“Oh love” Geto sighed. He didn’t sound angry, more like a bit disappointed that you hadn’t come to him about this.
“I didn’t want to burden you. I know there’s big things coming up that you have to prepare for, and I really was hoping this was just a fluke” you sighed and looked back up at him.
“I’m gonna stay home the rest of the day. We can talk about what’s been going on with you” Geto said, squeezing your hand back.
“I know you have a lot to do, so thank you for staying with me” you smiled tiredly.
“I need you to be well, that’s also a big priority of mine. I hope you know that” Geto smiled that gentle close eyed smile of his.
“I appreciate the reminder” you chuckled.
Your stomach started to rumble, which made you realize you hadn’t eaten since last night.
“Hungry?” Geto smirked.
“Yes, but the fridge is pretty much empty” you noted motioning towards the kitchen.
“I’ll tell one of the monkeys to go get us some things from the store. What would you like?”
“Food. I don’t really have any particular cravings right now, so pretty much anything will do” you shrugged.
“While I take care of that, you look like you could use a shower” Geto suggested.
“You’re probably right, I’m gonna go do that” you yawned and stretched your arms towards the ceiling, before disappearing around the corner.
After a couple of minutes, Geto heard the shower turn on. He leaned on the kitchen counter and hung his head back. He could finally relax and exhale the breath he felt like he’d been holding in for days. He wasn’t happy that you were having trouble, but he was glad you had finally told him what was going on. Now he didn’t have to guess anymore. He just wasn’t sure what he could do for you. He was going to be there for you the best he could, that was a given, but he couldn’t be with you 24/7. He just had to believe you would be okay. The bad times had always passed before, so surely this would as well.
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As stated before, Absinthe has a condition known as erotomania. This is a form of delusional disorder where the patient has the false belief that another is in love with them. This condition is not standalone. It is a rare mental illness, usually stemming from another mental illness that has psychotic tendencies. In Absinthe's case, it is bipolar I disorder.
Bipolar disorder itself is a condition causing "unusual shifts in a person's mood, energy, activity levels, and concentration". Its famously known for the dramatic mood shifts of mania and depression. Bipolar I is known to have more psychotic shifts in mania than bipolar II, which manifests mostly as extreme lows and hypomania without psychosis.
Mania: "period of abnormally elevated, extreme changes in mood, behavior and activity and energy level". Often mania produces an extreme confidence. You can do anything you want and you think very little of the consequence. This can lead to risk-taking behaviors in terms of money, actions, and sexual activities.
Absinthe falls into all three categories when he becomes manic. He's an over spender, he's more aggressive, he drinks, smokes, and partakes in other recreational substances more, and he's more prone to believing people are "in love" with him. He can have more than one person "obsessed" with him when manic.
Psychosis: a multitude of symptoms that cause the patient to lose some contact with reality. Absinthe's erotomania itself is a form of psychosis, but he has other manifestations of it as well. He will often get lost in old cult beliefs, or denying those beliefs when he falls into a psychosis. He'll lose track of days or time and fixate heavily on whatever has caught his attention.
Depression: an extreme, constant feeling of sadness that leads to loss of interest, in simplest terms. Absinthe is no stranger to lows after he comes down from his highs. He's very heavy on drinking when depressed and struggles to leave his home. He's lost a multitude of jobs as a result of no-call-no-showing them when depressed (his most recent more accommodative to him, the owner having a sweet spot for him.)
This all being said, one of the most common misconceptions about bipolar I disorder is that these are quick shifts. This is not the case. These shifts in mood can occur for weeks to months at a time. The patient is also not bound to a single mood, as there can be mixed episodes, which Absinthe struggles with.
He has been to a mental health facility before. Multiple times. He has been prescribed medication. However, as is common with bipolar, he decides they are not needed when manic and the effect is lost (as it takes weeks for them to get into your system to begin with, in terms of mood stabilizers and antipsychotics). He lives alone and has no one monitoring him, so he has never been consistent with any therapy.
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I might be biased because I am currently suicidal because of a depressive delusion and because I've harmed other people and myself because of delusions and because I've been in the fucking hospital because of delusions but the way everyone is turning the idea of being delusional into the memejoke of the month is disgusting and I'm not laughing
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i’m boutta have a psychotic break (it’s 1 am on a school night) 😍😍😍
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A new year has started...
I'm going to try to post once more this week, but I have to start my school work too so I don't know if it's gonna be today or tomorrow. Next week I'll try to be more active since I've only got school on Friday for like 4 hours, and I should have time.
School started on Thursday (11th of January) and I basically went to school while being sick, because I couldn't miss it. Same thing on Friday, but I felt even worse. I didn't have a fever or anything, I just felt freaking miserable, and now I can barely talk because my voice is almost gone. So fun...
I had a 2h presentation with one of my classmates, that we had to do for the rest of our growth-group, since it was our turn. I was really nervous for it, but it went really well and I'm glad it's over. (A growth-group is this thing for professional growth, and we also have to make a learning diary during the two years we have the growth-group meetings.)
On Friday I started a "neurodivergent problems and special-ed" course. That's very roughly translated, but you get the idea. I really liked the first classes already and it's very enlightening.
VENTING BELOW, DON'T READ IF YOU DON'T WANT TO
On top of being sick, I have been feeling a bit messed up mentally. I've noticed myself thinking I want something bad to happen to me just so I could get out of uni for a while. I know what comes next too, I'm going to continue to get more and more tired, until I actually fall quickly back into deep depression, and/or have another bad psychotic episode. I've already been having very intense paranoia, and I basically stared at shadow people on the walls of the classroom during half of my swedish class yesterday, so that was fun. I haven't really lost my grip on reality for a while, like I know the things I'm seeing are not really real, but they are there 100% and I am seeing them. I don't really know how to explain it properly. It's like I know it's not real, but at the same time they are there, and I can see them and feel them.
Intrusive thoughts have not been nice either, the most frequent one I have is that I should swallow razor blades. I should probably get rid of them, but I always somehow talk myself out of it and I just can't.
I'm supposed to do practical training for three weeks this winter/spring season too, and then preferably another six-week set too. I'm terrified of that whole thing and I don't fucking want to, but I have to if I want to go forward with my studies. The three weeks thing is the orientation training and the six-week one is the first of the professional ones.
I've been toying with the idea of taking some sick leave from uni, but I also don't want to fall behind, so I'm not allowing myself to do that. I know I'm gonna end up burning out, but I feel like I would disappoint a lot of people if I took a break, so my brain won't allow me to do that either. I fucking hate being like this. I feel like a lazy piece of shit, even though my rational mind tells me I'm doing things, and going forward in life, it just doesn't FEEL like it.
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𓏲 * ( oliver jackson-cohen, cis man, he/him ) ⸺ pictures of DYLAN CHRISTOPHER KHOURI have been showing up all over my feed, and considering the last time they were #trending, it was due to a photograph of him looking attractively photogenic being rescued from a hostage situation going viral — i'm not likely to unfollow anytime soon. with their precisely coiffed hair, mixture of military clothing in the field and suits in the studio, i'm not surprised to hear that they are considered part of the NOUVEAU RICHES. after 35 years, they've managed to garner a reputation for being more brave than coarse, but their critics say that they're more haunted than gallant when they aren't too busy capitalising on the events that cause him to lose sleep every night ; cooking elaborate meals for himself alone ; photographing animals in the park. when they aren't occupied with their work as a journalist / former war correspondent, they've been sighted taking pottery classes. reputation.com has taken to calling them HERCULES in order to avoid a lawsuit ( again ). ──
GENERAL DETAILS.
full name: dylan christopher isaac khouri . nickname(s): d . dyl . age: thirty5 . date of birth: 4th of april , 1988 . place of birth: lismore , australia . current location: soho , new york city . ethnicity: jewish australian egyptian . gender: cis man . pronouns: he / him . sexual orientation: heterosexual . romantic orientation: heteroromantic . relationship status: single . religion: not religious . occupation: journalist / podcaster , former war correspondent . education: master of arts in journalism from murdoch university . accent: mild australian . spoken languages: english ( native ) , italian ( fluent ) , arabic ( fluent ) .
PHYSICAL APPEARANCE, ETC.
faceclaim: oliver jackson - cohen . hair colour and style: straight dirty blonde , a textured crew cut with low fade . eye colour: blueish green . height: 6 ft 3 . tattoos: none currently . none: none . clothing style: street style , jeans , neutral - toned tops , leather jackets . distinguishing features: various small scars across his body . including a recently healed gash from his hairline to just above his left eyebrow . signature scent: tom ford , oud wood .
HEALTH.
mental disorder(s): ptsd , anger management issues . physical disorder(s): a busted shoulder , permanent hearing damage ( 30% loss in left ear , 10% loss in right ear ) . allergies: none . sleeping habits: night owl , sleeps approx. 4 - 5 hours each night , has night terrors . eating habits: omnivore . sociability: extrovert . addictions: alcohol dependency . drug use: weed , party drugs such as mdma occasionally . alcohol use: daily , gets drunk twice a week minimum when not working .
PERSONALITY.
label(s): hercules . positive traits: brave , gallant , generous , sociable , protective . negative traits: haunted , selfish , coarse , noncommittal , stubborn . likes: working out , clubbing , photography , writing , hanging with the boys , flirting . dislikes: conferences , being fussed over , confronting his feelings , country music . fears: small spaces . goals and ambitions: to shed a light on the cruelties of war . astrology: aries ( sun ) , scorpio ( moon ) , leo ( rising ) . moral alignment: lawful neutral . element: fire . primary vice: pride . primary virtue: charity .
BIOGRAPHY.
dylan grew up in australia , with his mother grace and his father rowland isaac . most of their life revolved around rowland's job – a military man . they moved around often when dylan was young . his father was the person he admired most and he planned to follow in his footsteps . the signs of the horrors of war were there , but a young impressionable mind convinced itself that it was to be expected and that it was a badge of honour .
when his little sister was born , things settled a bit more . they stopped moving as often , allowing dylan to make friends while the family was slowly starting to crumble . rowland was struggling more and more with what he had seen in active duty , often having periods where he did not understand where he was or who was around him . more often , grace would leave the house for the night and leave dylan and gwyn alone with rowland . although dylan always empathised with his father for what he had gone through , his post traumatic stress was escalating into more than just night terrors . the violent outbursts became a regular occurrence and dylan often felt responsible for ensuring the safety of his little sister and himself .
approaching his high school graduation , dylan initially did not want to go to university . he considered finding a job locally , perhaps working for a gym , so he could stay home and keep an eye on the family . after much convincing from his both his parents , he ended up enrolling at the university of queensland for a bachelor in political science in brisbane .
the day before he left for university , his mother pulled him aside and dropped a bombshell on him . rowland was not his father . his father was a man by the name of haim khouri – an egyptian businessman she had met in italy in a whirlwind romance , when she and rowland had already been together for a while . grace made him swear he would not tell rowland , fearing for his mental state . so , dylan kept the secret from rowland and from his sister .
while at university he contacted with his biological father . he even flew out to tunisia , his current home , to meet him . dylan learnt arabic , craving to have a closer connection to his paternal side as he heard the struggles rowland continued to endure . after his bachelor in political science , he followed it up with a masters' in journalism at murdoch university in perth , unsure what he wanted in life . following graduation , he started work as a political journalist in brisbane , first written correspondence , then as a field reporter for a local news programme . he travelled all around australia and didn't get to visit home as often anymore . however , just after gwyn's 16th birthday , he travelled home only to find it in chaos and his little sister covered in blood and rowland dead on the floor .
a lot changed after that . the case was dropped and him , gwyn – now florence – and grace moved to the us . he continued his journalism career , actively pursuing a path towards war correspondence . he had seen how much war impacted those around him , and studying politics and international relations , he knew that he needed to report on it . not long after the move , he was off again , running around active warzones and photographing and reporting on them for cnn .
late march 2023 , dylan did not make his scheduled call . it took 48 more hours before he was reported as missing . the envoy he had been travelling in was stopped for what was initially thought to be a routine check . instead , he had found the barrel of a gun pressed to the back of his head and he was escorted away by a terror organisation . he was not alone . two fellow correspondents , one from the bb c, one independent reporter from germany , were also captured . the first few months , they were used as a pawn in negotiations with the reporters' respective home countries and countries of employment . he was kept in relatively comfortable conditions . his captors demanded supplies , then money , then weapons . the list never ended and demands became too outrageous . by the time august rolled around , it had been claimed that all three of them had been assassinated . the governments were only able to confirm the deaths of the english and german reporter due to footage appearing on the dark web . in reality , they kept him around and alive just for the fun of torturing him .
early october , months after the outcries for dylan's release had died down and the news had moved on , though contact had remained between the australian government , united states government and the terrorists under the radar , the home he'd been kept in was raided and he was released . on his way out , looking rather worse for wear , one of his colleagues from the cnn captured a photo of him . it went viral , not because he had been presumed dead , but because despite his injuries , despite his worsened physical and mental state , he looked attractive in the candid photo and the internet went wild .
since his reappearance , he has been involved in talk shows , podcasts & radio shows . he has yet to see a therapist , despite the horrors he now continues to relive nightly .
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I'm doing so incredibly badly. Today and tomorrow are my worst trauma anniversaries of the whole year, and I'm still really sick and dizzy, and that means that I've been interacting with doctors, on The Medical Trauma Anniversary. I've just calmed down from a truly horrific episode of screaming on the floor clawing and biting myself. I've been avoiding ativan this week bc I didn't want to make the dizzy worse but I gave in and took one bc this episode was arguably close to being dangerous. So now I feel extra lightheaded and dizzy, but at least 10% less psychotic. Just in time for my doctor's appointment that I have in half an hour, hurray! I'm so fucking crazy and I can't even tell the physical and mental symptoms apart right now, for hours today I've had a semi-hallucination that my mouth was full of blood and disentangling that from the genuine post-nasal drip from my allergies is just not happening, the world is spinning bc my ears are messed up and I've been having vertigo but it's also spinning bc I'm fucking batshit right now and I just...idk this is all just such a mess. Like I do have real physical stuff going on but my psychotic symptoms are dialled up to 11 on a day like this and trying to figure out what is what for the doctor is going to suck. I'm exhausted and panicked and angry and afraid and psychotic and sick and dizzy and I hate everyone on earth especially doctors and I'm glad I have this appointment to tell me if I have an ear infection but I'm also terrified of seeing medical professionals at the best of times, let alone on a September 8th. Everything sucks.
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