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#self deprecating thoughts
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furiousgoldfish · 2 years
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socializing after you’ve been abused:
am I being useful right now?
useful enough not to be kicked out or considered a burden?
what if I ruin everything with my presence
is there anything else I can do to make sure everyone approves of me?
I haven’t done anything useful in a while, everyone must be mad at me
why is everyone ignoring me right now? am I being abandoned?
are they about to leave me? how did I deserve this?
I’m going to be alone, forever, I’m beyond help
everyone must have hated me all along and now they’re happier without me
I can feel them thinking horrible things about me. They must think how I’m stupid and don’t deserve to be here.
Is anyone seeing thru me? Can they tell I’m scared? I have to hide it better.
I’d do anything for reassurance that things are okay but if I ask for it I will be seen as annoying and too demanding so I can’t do that
It was a mistake trying to fit in, I’m ruining everything, this would all be better if only I wasn’t here
They’re all secretly blaming me for everything bad that happened, and I too am thinking of all the ways I could have stopped it and didn’t, it’s my fault
I’m being left behind, I don’t even understand what is going on right now and nobody is explaining anything to me. They want me to be left out.
I just want to be away from this, I can’t handle looking at everyone else being close to each other while I’m dying for this and will never have it
Was I wrong for thinking I could do this? Was I stupid for imagining for a second I would feel okay talking to people?
I’ve said something wrong and I’m embarrassed and ashamed. I can only imagine what everyone is thinking about me right now. It hurts so much I wish I wasn’t alive.
I just want to be alone again, and I’m terrified of being alone again.
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magical-girl-menhera · 2 months
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I only ever make things worse for both myself and others
I don't know how to stop it, i don't know how to stop
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ditzybitzyspider · 7 months
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hate feeling not autistic enough (get it together, you're high-functioning)
hate feeling not queer enough (you can't call yourself queer, you're only bi)
hate feeling not bi enough (you've never dated a girl)
hate feeling not woman enough (why do you keep wondering what wearing a binder is like? why are you obsessed with where the dick goes on the body?)
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l0nd0n-3xists · 4 months
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I wish I was skinny. I wish I was pretty. I wish I wasn't sensitive. I wish I wasn't annoying. I wish I wasn't clingy. I wish I had pretty hair. I wish I was taller. I wish I had a purpose. I wish people actually liked me. I wish I was fun to be around. I wish I didn't hate myself. I wish I wanted to be alive.
I wish I was dead.
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bpdcrybaby213 · 8 months
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People say that other people won't want to be your friend if you're self deprecating and talking negatively about yourself all the time. Well then obviously I need friends I can say self deprecating things with and we can be negative together. I really don't need your toxic positivity, I feel how I feel about myself and fuck anyone who can't handle that.
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wxrmeaterz · 10 days
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we have to spend the next few weeks being repeatedly triggered (its unavoidable and i dont want to explain rn)
its with on of our biggest triggers too (not listed on our page, its private)
idek how were going to cope
i dont want to b constantly asking our brother or partner-sys for help.. i dont want to burden them more than we already do
-Bunny (no pronouns rn pls)
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The Multiamory Podcast did an Episode (Ep.438) discussing the intersection of polyamory and aromanticism.
Explicitly polyamorous/ polyaffectionate aromantics, not asexuals!
You are all welcome to chip in/ add on through reblogs and tags and commentary!
The relevant Facebook announcement got shared into a group I happen to be in and as I commented, thanking the person for sharing it seeing as the group wasn’t aro-related at all, I got politely asked to explain how polyamory works for me as an aromantic asexual.
Keep in mind this explanation was targeted for an audience/ readership of allo-allo polyamorous people.
Also: CONTENT WARNING ⚠️
Internalised acephobia, self-depreciation, implication of sexualised abuse, mention of faithfulness
So the first thing I always say is that: disclaimer – obviously I can only talk about my personal perspective and aromantic people are very diverse, asexual people are very diverse
I just happen to be an asexual aromantic, whereas many aromantics are allosexual (meaning any sexual orientation that isn’t asexuality); seeing as this post is explicitly about the intersection of aromanticism and polyamory
I personally want a queerplatonic/ alterous life partner
That’s my personal wish, I want someone to share my life with
I consider myself polyaffectionate, seeing as I’m not “amorous” in any way shape or form
To me this means a few things
1) I practice relationship anarchy – I do not place a romantic relationship on some arbitrary pedestal, every relationship is important to me and that relationship looking like romance doesn’t mean much
For the other things I need to explain about myself first
I am a sex-averse asexual. I have had sex. I didn’t like it. I am generally sex-positive but I don’t necessarily want/ seek sex as part of any committed relationship; rather I’d avoid sex
(This following bit is self-depreciation but) Because of that I think I shouldn’t “tie down” any partner. Someone willing to be with me shouldn’t suffer for it and hence I don’t see a point in being possessive/ demanding sexual faithfulness – although the details would need to depend on the partner(s) and situation
Also due to me not making a grave distinction between “best friend” and “date friend” I just think it’s easier to call myself polyaffectionate since relationships involving me need thorough explanation anyway
I have explored through writing* what I’d like for myself and that basically always ends up that I’d like to be comfortable “sharing” my partner with pre-determined other people
I would only agree to a closed polycule, although I don’t need to be involved with everyone in it
Also I always hoped if I get that, if I get to have a queerplatonic polycule, it could be a found family and support network more than dating in the classical sense
Again, keep in mind all of this is just my personal perspective and I don’t speak for other aromantic people or other asexual people
Many asexuals are fine with/ want sex
Some aromantics are non-partnering/ would only practice solo-poly
My ideal relationship would be having one or two partners I live with, who are my family, who I can cuddle or leave to their own devices, basically a house share and we each cuddle and kiss each other as we please 🙈
—The thing is I’m aware I probably talk like someone who doesn’t value themself enough
Like, if I believed I could be enough for a partner my whole stance would be slightly different
But I have not yet made the experience that what I can offer (a sexless, queerplatonic commitment) is enough for people
I’m fully aware that mindset isn’t healthy but until someone proves I can be enough for them, well… “outsourcing” sex is easier than worrying
And if it’s a genuine relationship I’m happy for them, in any case
I wholeheartedly mean that I’d like a closed polycule and would be comfortable as described
But I also acknowledge that part of it comes from feeling inadequate/ not wanting to hold back the person(s) I love
I just know I can’t provide what – to many people – is a need
And since I know I can love more than one person at the same time I think getting to be with someone who also has other partners is my best chance… if that makes sense
As I said, I write a lot and with my latest novel-attempt* I think I found the relationship model I’d be comfortable with 🙈
* I have indeed written multiple fan fictions as well as original fiction about a self-insert character navigating relationships as I would like them to play out (setting aside the overarching plot of the individual fiction works) but seeing as I’m a pro-shipper and actually do have a writing side-blog, I don’t feel all that comfortable to just straight-up link my own writing here. Due to the here relevant works all featuring central relationships with a self-insert character, these works are also deeply personal. More so than other ship fiction I have written. I have linked these works on here before - as part of “#queerplatonic fiction” lists - but never really put “my name” (this blog’s URL) directly to them
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chuuyasporkie · 1 year
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dumbest-of-cunts · 11 months
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Will things ever be fergalicious again
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thedomistuffed · 5 months
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I forgot how blades felt different on the arms than on the legs
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me--do · 1 year
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actress4him · 8 months
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Querencia 12.5 - First Healing
You guys voted, and amazingly enough, I have delivered! This chapter was already floating around in my head, though it’s not technically the “next” chapter of the series like the poll said. This falls right after Shopping Trip and before Just a Cold and the Mind Control trilogy, and is a moment I realized was missing from the story.
Taglist: @darthsutrich , @inky-whump , @painful-pooch , @pigeonwhumps , @bookworm2107
Previous | Next | Masterlist
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Contains: lady whump, dude whump, broken ribs, self-deprecating thoughts, references to past homelessness, hidden injuries
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Liliana is alone in the warehouse, and it’s…a bit creepy, if she were to be honest. The place is huge, and her footsteps echo everywhere she walks. She’s tempted to hide in her room until the team returns. Then again, something about being shut in a room with no idea what’s going on in the rest of the building is even more disconcerting than being out here in the emptiness.
She should be ready for when they get back, anyway. This is the first time they’ve gotten called out on superhero duties since she’s been staying here, which means that they could very well get hurt and need her to heal them when they get back. Nari has assured her that it doesn’t happen very often. Still, that’s the only reason she’s here, right? If one of them does come back hurt, she should be ready to help right away, not locked away in her room.
So she makes her way to the infirmary, instead. It’s a small room, mainly comprised of a cot in the center, a counter with cabinets above it on one wall, and some shelves on another. They keep it stocked with first aid items, some a bit beyond what’s typical like crutches and slings and forceps.
They don’t really like to go to the hospital, Jamil had explained. None of them have ever had personal encounters with people who hate Nons…Supers…but they’ve heard the tales. They can’t risk being at the mercy of doctors and nurses whose political leanings they don’t know.
Liliana understands that perfectly.
They won’t need all the paraphernalia anymore, though, not with her around. She’s happy that she can take that burden off of them, take away the worry of what if someday we get hurt too badly to treat here. They’ve done so much for the city, after all, and now for her. They deserve to be taken care of.
At the same time, the longer she sits there, kicking her feet and staring at the blank walls, the more nervous she gets. She hasn’t healed that many people. There were a few accidental healings when she was young, but other than the arthritis those were all scrapes and bruises and one common cold. Then came the years at the facility, when she wasn’t allowed to even think about using her power.
While she was on the streets, she’d healed twice - both times with an enormous amount of fear that someone was going to leap out into the open and drag her back to the facility for doing so. The first time was the worst thing she’d ever healed. A lady had gotten mugged in an alleyway, and Liliana had healed where the mugger had hit her over the head with the butt of his gun. The only reason she’d stepped in and shoved her fear aside then was because she was afraid the woman might die otherwise. The headache she’d gotten from that was horrendous and lasted for a few days straight. Not something that she was looking to repeat anytime soon.
The second time she did with slightly less trepidation, since there hadn’t been consequences for the first. That was the man with the broken glass, the time when she’d met Nari and Quinn. The pain from that wasn’t all that bad, just a few stinging cuts. She still has the little white scars on her stomach.
And the only other time she’s healed was Jamil’s broken nose, which had been nerve-racking, too, but she was the one who’d broken it so she had to offer to heal it. That had hurt for days, too, and she kept feeling like she couldn’t breathe.
Today could be her first official healing, though. Her first time really performing her new job.
When she’d agreed to join their team, it had been a spur of the moment decision. A decision she’s second guessed many times, for reasons ranging from I shouldn’t have moved in with a bunch of strangers to they need someone better than me, someone with less problems than me.
Now, in this moment, she’s second guessing her ability to handle the kinds of injuries a team of superheroes might come in with. They could have broken bones. They could get shot, stabbed, burned, impaled, electrocuted…the villains they fight against have all varieties of powers that can do a ton of damage. Can she really heal any and all of that? More importantly, can she do it without letting on that it hurts, for however long it may take for those things to heal?
She doesn’t have a choice. They let her in so that she could heal them. If she can’t do it, then she’ll get kicked out, and she’s not sure she can handle going back to the streets, losing all of this comfort and care that she’s finally starting to get used to. And she can’t let them know that it hurts her, they’ll think she’s too weak and the result would be exactly the same.
It isn’t that they’re mean. They’re the nicest people she’s ever met. But they need someone who can do this job. She has to make sure that’s her, so she won’t lose even more people and yet another place to live.
The wait is excruciating, but eventually she hears the beeping and opening of the front door from just down the hall. Jumping to her feet, she moves to the doorway, wringing her gloved hands as she peers out. One, two, three, four…they’re all on their feet. It doesn’t mean no one is injured at all, but it’s certainly not as bad as it could be.
Quinn’s face brightens when he sees her. “Liliana, hey.” His eyes dart toward the room behind her. “Everything alright?”
She nods, still glancing up and down at what she can see of all of them. “I’m just, just waiting. For, um…for you guys to get back. Just in case.”
“Oh, that’s perfect. We’re mostly in one piece, but Alex did break a rib or two.” He gestures back toward the redhead, who she can see now is pressing one hand to his side.
“Ehh, I think they’re just cracked.” He waves his free hand casually. “Nothing new for me, honestly. I get beat up a lot.” He laughs at his own joke, then winces in clear regret.
Liliana’s eyes widen. Cracked ribs. She can handle that, right? She’s never had injured ribs before, but if Alex can treat it so nonchalantly then maybe she can, too. She definitely doesn’t want him to keep being in pain, it makes her stomach churn watching him react.
“I can, I can help. That’s what, um, what I’m here for, r-right?”
He grins at her and enters the infirmary as she steps back to make room. “I’d really appreciate it, if you think you’re up for it.” Gingerly, he settles on the cot facing her. “I’m used to having to deal with these things for weeks. If you can really make it disappear in an instant…”
“Mhm.” She nods again, still toying with her fingers. She’s just standing there, and he’s sitting, watching her…waiting on her, she realizes. Everyone is waiting on her. The other three are crowded into the room behind her, ready to watch her perform her task.
Right. She can do this. Gloves have to come off…well, maybe just one. One glove off, then she has to…oh, shoot, she has to ask him to…
“Um. I, um…I n-need…” Her face is growing hot. “I-I have to, to…to touch…like, um…s-skin…”
His eyebrows go up in realization. “Oh! Yeah, no problem.” He lifts the bottom hem of his shirt, revealing a cluster of bruises on his right side. “And don’t worry about hurting me, I’m tough.”
Her cheeks are still burning. “It, um, it shouldn’t hurt.”
“It doesn’t!” Jamil pipes in from the doorway. “At least it didn’t for me. Barely felt a thing.”
“Oh right! I forgot you’ve done this before.” Alex leans over slightly to see him. “Is it cool?”
“Definitely. Though I didn’t get to actually, you know…see it. I’m looking forward to it this time.”
The others are agreeing, and Liliana wants to curl up in a hole somewhere and disappear. They’re all acting like this is some huge special thing that she can do, and it’s just…her power. The power that got her kicked out of her family and locked up for three years. Yes, if she has to have a power she’s glad that it’s one that helps people, but it’s not special. It’s not that big of a deal.
“Okay, I’m, I’m gonna…” She motions toward his ribs and steps forward, sliding the glove from her fingers. Her hand is shaking a little.
Ever so gently, she places her fingertips against the bruised skin. Blue light immediately spreads across the area, soaking up the black and purple, seeping down until it reaches the cracked bones and beginning to mend them.
Don’t make a face, don’t make a face, don’t make a face.
The pain of her ribs “cracking” is sharp and immediately invades every breath. Liliana bites down on the inside of her lip to keep from gasping or making any noise.
Cállate, cállate, no hagas ruido, no pueden averiguar.
She glances up at Alex’s face, but his head is tilted down to watch the healing. Good. If she did slip and make any kind of expression, no one would have seen.
The light fades away as the last of the pain transfers, and she lets her hand drop, quickly moving to put her glove back on. “How’s, um…how’s it feel?”
His gaze comes up, and his eyes are wide with amazement. “Wow.” He stretches his arms over his head, bends his torso back and forth. She knows for a fact that those movements would have been very painful a minute ago.
“It feels great! It’s…totally gone, like, not even a trace left.” Looking down and pulling his shirt up again, he runs his fingers over the now unblemished skin. “That’s crazy.”
The others crowd around, Jamil poking at Alex and Nari making teasing comments about how he just can’t keep himself from getting hurt, and Liliana shrinks backwards, out of the way. Sharp pain shoots through her ribs with any little twist of her body. She’s going to have to learn how she can and can’t move, but try her best not to look stiff in the meantime.
A few weeks, he said, right? She can do this. It’ll be fine.
Alex stands and pushes his way past the others, not a difficult feat considering how much space his height and muscles take up. “Seriously, Lil, you’re fantastic.” He chuckles to himself. “Get it? Lil? ‘Cause you’re so…lil? I’m calling you Lil from now on. Anyway, I’d hug you, but you probably don’t want me to and that’s fine, so…fist bump? Can we fist bump it?”
She definitely does not want a hug right now, not with cracked ribs, but…she can handle a fist bump, she thinks. Tentatively, she raises her fist, and Alex gently knocks his knuckles into hers.
“Welcome officially to the team, kid. It’s great to have you here.”
Everyone spills out of the room exclaiming similar messages, making a huge deal out of what she just did and her presence with them. Liliana follows along silently, cheeks flushed again, trying not to let the praise get to her.
She still wishes they wouldn’t make such a big deal out of it. But if her power can make them this happy, then she’s very glad she can share it with them. Even if it ends up hurting much worse in the future.
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magical-girl-menhera · 4 months
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Not only do i feel like shit but i also look the part.
God I'm so ugly
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darkemptyhearts · 2 years
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i. asked. for help. you gave me nothing. i told you i am doing really bad. you didnt think to care? to check in? see if i needed anything? how am i supposed to ask for help when you dont listen when i do?
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l0nd0n-3xists · 6 months
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The more I think about it, The more I realize I have no real talent. I like to think i’m smart, But people are so much smarter than me. I like to think i’m good at art, But i’m not even mediocre. I wanna believe i’m good at flute, But i’m intermediate at best. I can’t sing, Can’t dance, Can’t create music, etc. I can’t do anything. I’m not good at anything. The only thing I can do is sleep, eat, and make these stupid fucking posts. I’m a waste of resources.
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