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#that to myself and my friends and my therapist in 2021 and i'm more at peace with it than i ever was or thought i could be in 2019 and 2020

c-ptsdrecovery · 5 months

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It's the end of the year, and therefore time to look back at 2023.

And I have to say, this is The Best Year I have had in a VERY long time.

Started the year--basically ON New Year's Day!--with my new Prozac prescription kicking in with a VENGEANCE. Was happy-hypomanic for basically the first time in my life (my hypomania was almost always anxiety before). That was AMAZING, and I can see why some people with bipolar disorder don't want to go on medication. The problem is that the hypomania is not stable, and I dropped back down to depression again. Raised the Prozac dose. Hypomanic! Dropped back to depression, Raised the Prozac dose. Hypomanic!!

Finally I went to a psychiatrist, and she, bless her, suggested gently that what I was experiencing might actually be hypomania. I was sitting there wearing rainbow colors with a highlighter pink hat, rainbow pony bead bracelets and funny earrings like, "I don't think I'm hypomanic." God bless her for not laughing out loud.

Anyway, I got on Lamotrigine/Lamictal (mood stabilizer) and... Oh my god. The depression went away. The anxiety went away. The anhedonia went away for the first time in years and I was able to actually quietly enjoy my life. Like, I had been capable of happiness before, but it was always some form of excitement. I could just look around my bedroom, see my stuff, watch my shows, crochet my crafts, sigh happily, and say that I loved my quiet little life. Now I can. It truly is life-changing.

I had done so much work on my C-PTSD with my therapist over the last 4 years that once the mood stabilizer kicked in... I was suddenly great. Nothing to talk about in therapy. No problems I couldn't solve. I got into an emotionally healthy environment in 2021, I have a good, stable support system... And now that I was on mood stabilizers, I could actually FEEL like I had a good, stable support system (I had felt very isolated before, even with a good group of friends).

I have spent 2023 genuinely enjoying my life for the first time in possibly a decade or more. Between my mental health and my loss of anhedonia and my friend group and my paganism/witchcraft... I feel more myself than I have since like, middle school.

It gets better.

You slowly, piece by piece, put your life together, get the things you need, get the therapy you need, get the meds you need, and one day you realize that you like your life and you don't need to struggle for something else: you have what you want already, and you're able to enjoy it.

That's my New Year's wish for all of you, even if it takes a few years to find it. Don't give up. Keep trying things. Keep pushing. Keep loving yourself. I promise, it will get better.

#2023 #year in review #mental health #bipolar disorder

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ultraviolet-ink · 2 months

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What do you think about asoryuu?

Oh boy, this one's going to be a bit loaded, so here's a bit of a preemptive apology for a ramble/word vomit/rant on my end. Suffice to say ASRY is a NoTP for me. When I was first getting into DGS all the way back in 2019/20, I was a bit ambivalent towards the ship. I had only watched a playthrough of the first game, and I had the feeling that Kazuma was going to come back, but the ship didn't really scream to me at that point, and it kind of befuddled me to see how it was so popular (and a bit of a tangent, I think people only really ship the 1-1 dynamic, but that's a convo for another day). If you even look at the header of my blog, it is no secret that I ship Ryuususa, and it is my OTP. When I had watched the fifth case on the playthrough, I was sold on that ship, and the last moments really sealed the deal for me-- there's something really compelling about the goodbye scene between Susato and Ryuunosuke at the docks, and the localization legitimately made me cry (happy tears of course!) Being a little naive, I started to post about it and I got... a LOT of harassment calling me a lot of names/accusing me of being okay with a lot of really horrible things (intrusive thoughts WHOOOOOOP). The harassment was so bad that I only recently opened up to my therapist about what had happened, and I was pulling away from servers/people I thought I was friends with/wouldn't treat me horribly. I found a lot of solace with people who were also violently harassed pre-localization (shout out to the Baroryuu community, you all were really kind to me, and I am proud to also be a Baroryuu lover <3), when I say it was drama filled pre localization, I mean it. I can even point out when my harassment started to March of 2021 when someone on twitter said not to read my dgs fics since I was a proshipper (I hadn't even called myself that at this point, and honestly I don't really use that title [idk how else to describe it lol], but I do follow that philosophy and call myself anti-harassment), and since I hadn't had a twt at that time, they linked to my ao3, and since I put my tumblr on my fics, I got a LOT of disturbing anons. Even when I made my server, I used to have a link that anyone could click on (word of the day is naive lmaooo), and I got a lot of creeps coming in trying to surveil the server and make sure their friends weren't in it (one person was even trying to get access to the nsfw section which was FUN). After reading this, you're probably thinking "what does this have to do with ASRY?". A lot of the major bullies in fandom HEAVILY shipped ASRY, and would harass people who shipped other ships (Baroryuu and Asobaro shippers were racist, Homuryuu shippers were okay with incest because of that stupid "greatest family in the world" line, etc.). All in all, it came with a lot of entitlement and anger that other peopled DARED not to ship that ship. Those sorts of people really tainted the ship for me. As for the ship itself, I can definitely see why people love it a lot (especially 1-1), but I really didn't like Kazuma in 2-4/5. I found him to be really particularly awful and obtuse (which, makes perfect sense in the story! Who wouldn't be in his position?). I was also mad that he only said ONE (1!!!) thing to Susato when he got his memories back (despite HER recognizing him and getting the ball rolling), and it was basically "Thanks for helping out my friend, bye!" (#justiceforsusato lol). Even at the end of the game, I still was mad at Kazuma and didn't really like him. It's only due to my friends (namely @leafyemeralds and her VERY GOOD TAKES in our convos) that I eventually started to warm up to him. Now he's my personal punching bag to Atone(tm) XD I suppose TL;DR I'm not a big Kazuma fan, harassment made me really dislike the ship, so I don't ship it (also, can ASRY shippers tag their stuff? this is more of a problem on twitter, but it happens on tumblr. Filters can only work if they're there =3=)

#ask #discourse #fandom problems

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muffinninjafairy · 6 months

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Life Update

Oh my goodness, to be quiet frank I have no idea when was the last time I have actually sat down and made a text post. I one day was going through my archives and everything that was going on in my personal life from over a decade ago and never really spoke about what happened to me from then to now... so I guess I will.

I've personally have been more active socially on discord, and more so been using my socials as platforms for my work, but I also remembered , this is my blog so I'm gonna blog. I have no clue how many people from all those years ago are still on here but if you are, I hope all is well.

TIME CAPSULE TIME~ (These are all summaries of the time minimizing details because of personal reasons) I guess I would say my activity started to become less and less as of like 2015 - 2016, Like I was on here, but mostly reblogging and running off. To put it in the frankest of terms, I was having a sever mental episodes during that time frame. With a lot of personal situations happening with my family and not being in a healthy environment to properly regulate my emotions nor the proper support system to help me with what I was going through.

On July 11th 2015 I was admitted to the hospital for a mental breakdown that caused me to be taken away via ambulance. There I was diagnosed with BPD and Bipolar 1 (manic depressive episodes) . The health care system where I came from was not at all great, my phycologist over medicated me to the point where I would have black out spells and seizers (then given medication for those seizers) . My family still then refused to support me and so I clung to what ever I could for validation. As a result of this I tried to become hyper independent.

Months after being released from the hospital I moved out of my house and with an old high school buddy and their partner. Then after I entered a long distance relationship. Which in toe turned very toxic very fast. But being blinded by my BPD, I stuck with it for 2.5 years.

In February of the next year I was kicked out of my roommates apartment because of my job being closed down and had no income. So I was forced to move back home with my father. In those years from 2016 - 2018 felt like my absolute rock bottom, I would have extended periods of time where I never left the house and hid in my room. In fear of the world around me. My relationship was not helping if not hurting me more and more. They did not care about me or what was going on, only what they wanted out of the relationship. My father was becoming more and more verbally abusive and felt that I deserved nothing. I did have a new job then too but it was a dead end job and was paying very little (8.25$ an hour when I left I was being paid 10$ an hour)

2018 comes around, this is where I feel things starting to change, I met my DnD Group (March 2018) at this time but because of the toxicity of my ex, they left me because I would no longer isolate myself and wanted friends. (May 2018) Time goes by, me and the DM of the DnD start becoming closer and start our relationship in Sept. 21, 2018.

2019 Comes by and I get hit with reality, I need help. My episodes were coming back and I was hurting those around me, So finally I pulled my boot straps and looked for professional help. Once I found the therapist for me, I started to improve, my relationship with my partner and my friends increased in strength. I was still having problems at home with my family, but came to the realization that if they didn't want to be part of my healing journey then they didn't need to.

2020 is here and me and my partner are becoming serious, to the point of planning our future together. we scrounged and saved until the end of the year where we finally had enough to move in together in a new state. I quit my dead end job, and sent my stuff across country.

In Febuary of 2021 I finally said goodbye to my home and my partner and I moved to their grandmothers home temporarily until we secured an apartment. Once we did we collected everything and with the moving truck we drove to our new home.

we have been here ever since and I could not be happier. I have had a stable job for 2 years now, I've also been promoted within the company, I can actually go out now with out having an anxiety attack, I have friends both online and IRL, I have been in a 5 year relationship and still striving for the future. I can finally be myself without having to hide away in a room for years. I can actually be independent. It took some time but I feel much more mentally healthy.

Long Story Short: For a very long time I was stunted by my environment and did not have tools properly to grow until one day I was allowed to. Now I'm doing much more positive things for myself and receiving the support I needed. I am loved and cared for. Life can get better. I am doing a lot better.

I honestly do not know how many people are still here that knew me during this time period . But I am alive, healthy, and being the best I can be.

I also don't know why I felt the need to explain my life, I guess reflecting from then to now. I guess I wanted to share my progression cause I am proud of who I am now. And if throwing it into this void and someone sees this. Hope this lets you know that things can get better.

Love you cuties Shaylee

#life update #long post #mental health #shaylee shush #man so much happened #i didnt realize

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underbite · 4 months

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Hardly a life update but here are some things:

Currently not insured due to convoluted & irrelevant reasons, reapplying for medicaid atm, haven't had my ocd meds or adderall in maybe 2 months, I feel like a zombie most days, maybe the most cynical and jaded I have ever been in my life (2021 excluded) yet simultaneously fake. Legitimately feeling a little antisocial which is a first for me. Like I do not feel like myself. I don't post anything personal anymore because there's just nothing good to say. I'm on autopilot most days. Seriously feel like a drone. Writing and posting about the bad shit would just be adding a teeny little bit more depth to the grand sinkhole of despair we're all in. Like, it's unnecessary. So I'm trying to find a new therapist snd I want to put myself back in a partial hospitalization program but both are no-gos until I'm back on my old insurance. Php was so good for me. The routine, the structure, the people, the social interaction, the work, the vulnerability, the connection. I also straight up do not have any friends atm because of how antisocial I've been feeling lately. Just avoiding everyone not out of anxiety but bc I just don't WANT to. I think I'm textbook depressed again. Like I just don't WANT anything. If I get the opportunity I can sleep for 16 hours uninterrupted. And that's all I want to do. Straight up all I want to do I just want to sleep and dream.

That's all I got rn I gotta go. Ty. For reading. Safe travels.

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kandireadstarots · 1 year

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˖⁺‧₊˚♡˚₊‧⁺˖ Kandi's Masterpost ˖⁺‧₊˚♡˚₊‧⁺˖

About me

Decks Used

PAC readings

My Tarot Menu

About Me

My name is Candelaria, I go by Kandi online, and I'm your average 21 year old goth bimbo... with a few tricks up her sleeves, Tarot being one of them.

I started this blog because my therapist said I needed a hobby that helped me connect with people, and so I decided to open a Tumblr account and start making tarot content, since it's been almost 5 years since I've been studying Tarot (which let me tell you, it's proven to be a never-ending process of learning, which I love).

At some point in 2021 I started reading for my friends and family, and to my surprise they paid me for it (sometimes lol). So when something similar started happening on here, I decided to give it a go and keep the side hustle alongside my sad attempt at not having a mental health crisis while majoring in psychology (ironic, i know).

I am a pagan myself, so when it comes to my approach to Tarots I do value the energetic and divinatory tool that they are, just as much as the (hopefully) future psychologist in me values the dynamics they offer when it comes to self development journeys.

Don't really know what else to say about myself so I'll leave it here and maybe add more later.

Decks Used

Traditional Rider Waite Tarot

Santa Muerte Tarot

Santa Muerte Oracle

Thoth's Tarot

The Grand Esoteric Tarot

Night Sun Tarot

Simple Magic Oracle

Amor Et Psyche Oracle

Pick a Pile Readings

The chaos in Love

The Lover you need

Random message from the tarot

bad bitch encouragement for the sad girlies

What is coming after the storm

Insane Girl Pick a Pile Reading

What your spirit guides want you to know right now.

·:¨༺ Tarot Menu ༻¨:·

Just in case you want to book a personal reading from me <3 Just click HERE to get to my tarot menu.

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chen-chen-chen-again-chen · 1 year

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22 things I did in 2022

1.) I read Carry On in August and it changed my life.

2.) I wrote a fuckton. More words than I ever expected to.

3.) I received so many beautiful gifts, from @dohrnaira (Mummers House; Jelly Babies - MTG; Jelly Babies - New Year!) and from @artsyunderstudy (Jelly Babies).

4.) I designed some t-shirts on Canvas.

5.) I ate a cake.

6.) I submitted a piece of creative non-fiction to an anthology. It got rejected, but I'm so glad that I let myself be vulnerable and actually submitted, instead of just being paralyzed by anxiety.

7.) I finished two fics that had been languishing since 2021 (They can only be carried and A tasting menu for cats).

8.) I got an awesome new therapist.

9.) I learned how to hold my mother when she cries.

10.) I took risks with my writing. I pushed myself out of my comfort zone, especially with The tears of Mummers House and Jelly Babies.

11.) I gained a lot more confidence in my ability to craft OCs that readers find compelling.

12.) I put together a bunch of care packages.

13.) I tried to write sincere letters and notes to go with those care packages, and not worry about getting things "right," but just putting my messy heart into the words.

14.) I went to a funeral for the first time since the pandemic started.

15.) I went to a wedding for the first time since the pandemic started.

16.) I made new friends (hi! hello!!).

17.) I spent time with old friends who I hadn't seen in years.

18.) I squished a lot of new babies.

19.) I ate a lot of delicious food.

20.) I tried edibles for the first time. Deffo a fan.

21.) This Christmas, I got see my beloved laugh and relax, and it was a gift.

22.) I was sick a lot, sad a lot, angry a lot. But I also laughed so much. There are so many good things to celebrate. ❤️❤️❤️

#2022 #year in review #things I did #my fic tag

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screechthemighty · 1 year

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Hello, People Who Read My Resident Evil Fanfics, I'm back!!!! (May be back even more over the next few months, tbh. I don't want to make any promises, but Dracula Daily is hyperfixation-adjacent and getting back into RE4 Remake is up next on my content roster, so who knows?) AO3 link will be in a reblog, but here's the next chapter of catch me floating circles in my fish bowl!

catch me floating circles in my fish bowl - part three:

May 2, 2021:

“Zoe’s fine. She’s shopping at the grocery store like normal, at least.” Carlos showed him a picture on his phone. It took Ethan a second to recognize her. Her hair was all white, and she looked less desperately thin than he remembered. She was buying chips and standing next to a brick wall of a man with a serious case of resting bitch face. He looked familiar, but not quite familiar.

“Joe Baker?” Ethan guessed. “Glad to see she’s still got some family left.” Especially family like Joe Baker. If Chris was right, the guy had punched his way through the site to get to Zoe. He’s probably the only person in this mess more unhinged than I am. And he meant that as a compliment. “Thank you again for this. I know it’s probably paranoid, but with everything going on…”

How was he to know that the BSAA hadn’t gone after her? She could be just as valuable a resource as Ethan.

Speaking of…

“Still nothing from the BSAA?”

“Not that I’ve heard. I feel like that’s not gonna change until you leave. They don’t have a cause to investigate Blue openly and I don’t think they’d suspect Chris of bringing you here, so…” Carlos shrugged. “They’re probably keeping a closer eye on Terra Save. You have physical therapy today?”

Ethan’s mood soured instantly. “No,” he admitted. “I mean, I was supposed to, but I fell last time and they’re worried I fucked up my ankle, so we didn’t do much.” He hoped he didn’t look too petulant. “I know, if I hurt myself it could slow my healing down, I need to be careful…”

“Don’t forget it’s a miracle you’re walking at all,” Carlos pointed out. “You should still be bedridden.”

“Technically, I should be dead, but I get your point. Still, it’s just…”

Frustrating. It was all so damn frustrating. His self-appointed deadline was this month. He didn’t need to run a marathon or anything. He just wanted to walk on his own. Any patience he might’ve had for his body and its shortcomings had gone out the window now that the novelty of being alive had worn off.

“...to be clear, I’m asked this as a concerned friend, not as the guy responsible for you, but…they’ve got you seeing a therapist, right?” Carlos said. “Like…for your brain.”

“Yeah, they have,” Ethan said. “We’re still working on Dulvey. Turns out, almost being murdered under extreme bullshit circumstances is even more traumatic than just almost being murdered. Who would’ve thought?”

Carlos wince-laughed in a way that said he knew exactly what Ethan meant. “At least your guy has probably heard it all by now,” he said. “We didn’t have that when I was going.”

“Oh, I don’t know. I think the chainsaw scissors threw him off.”

“...the fucking what?”

Ethan probably shouldn’t have found that funny, but honestly? It was a little hilarious that he could one-up Carlos in the weirdness department.

Just a little.

Mia had been avoiding her therapist.

She knew, objectively, that avoiding her therapist probably looked worse than anything she could have actually said in therapy. She knew that whatever she said would stay in that room, that even her criminal past was safe to talk about. She knew this could be helpful, that it might let her sort out her thought spirals and fears and her increasing discomfort with being around Ethan.

But she couldn’t bring herself to go. Going meant actually admitting to everything–to all these dark thoughts, to all the shit she’d done. The thought of saying it out loud and having another person hear made her physically sick.

But she couldn’t stay away forever, so she finally went, with the intention of appearing as put-together and fine as possible.

She failed within five minutes.

“So, you’re concerned that Ethan is pushing himself too hard,” her therapist said. Doctor Reid was a no-nonsense sort of woman, the kind who cut right to the chase. It probably made her a great therapist, but these days, it mostly made Mia want to kill her.

“Ethan’s…” Mia tried to think of how best to phrase it. “...selfless to a fault. I don’t want him thinking about me right now. He should be focused on himself.”

Dr. Reid nodded and wrote something down. “Am I correct in assuming you’ve had this argument before?”

Mia tried to stay calm. It was difficult when visions of every argument they had since Mia learned she was pregnant started dancing through her mind.

We matter, Ethan! You matter! He’d been so caught up in protecting Rose, even before she was born. She’d known the lengths Ethan had gone to protect her. Known that he would go just as far for Rose, if not further. It was part of the reason she’d been so afraid to tell him what the mold had done to them. If he’d come to the same conclusions they had–that the BSAA had been deliberately negligent to unknown ends–who knew what he might have done?

The sound of pen against paper drew her out of her racing thoughts. Dr. Reid must have taken her silence as an answer. “Have you discussed this with him at all?”

Mia forced her voice to stay flat. “I’ve told him it’s okay to recover at his own pace,” she said. “He knows that we’re safe.”

“Maybe, but there’s more to the conversation than that, I think.” Dr. Reid put her pen down. “Are you frightened of what your husband might do?”

Damn this woman. “Why would I be? He protects us.”

“And he nearly died doing so, twice. That’s difficult to discuss. Objectively, he’s not wrong. Protecting those you care about is noble. But the survivor’s guilt you would’ve felt…” She picked back up her pen. “...and the guilt I’m sure you feel now are still very real. It could be easy for him to forget that.”

Mia felt her jaw go tense. “It’s not about that.”

“What is it about?’

“It’s my fault…”

Damn it. Damn it. Doctor Reid knew about the Connections, of course she did, but that didn’t mean Mia had to bring it up.

Doctor Reid glanced up. “You blame yourself,” she said finally, “because you think your time with the Connections is the reason Ethan ended up the way he did?”

The plan was not to reply, but Doctor Reid just sat there, waiting for an answer. Screw it. If this woman wanted an answer, she’d get her damn answer.

“I don’t think. I know. If I hadn’t been working for the Connections, I never would’ve ended up in Dulvey and he wouldn’t have had to save me. That’s where he got infected. That’s where the Rose got infected.”

“And if the BSAA had been honest, Ethan would’ve been cured, or his condition would have been managed,” Doctor Reid pointed out. “Maybe if they’d been honest, you two would have chosen not to have children. If Mirand had left you alone, or never learned about you, Ethan wouldn’t have had to save you a second time. Yes, your actions were one of the dominoes, but they were also just that. One of the dominoes. Why do you think you should shoulder all the blame?” Doctor Reid paused. “Why do you think Ethan thinks you should shoulder all the blame?”

“I don’t think that. I…”

She didn’t know. And that was really the worst part. So much of her was convinced that he wouldn’t blame her, which was bad in its own way. But the anxiety, the guilt, had her convinced that he would. There was no version of the story where this ended well.

“If I may,” Doctor Reid said. “You worry about Ethan pushing himself too hard and you worry about him getting into danger again. I assume this worry is compounded by the fact that you blame yourself for everything that’s happened, which in turn makes you feel that you’re not worthy of that protection. These are very strong emotions that are going to impact your interactions with Ethan, especially since you’ve had these disagreements before. Do you think I’m wrong?”

“...no.” It was a miracle it hadn’t impacted things already–or, at least, that it hadn’t in such a strong way that Ethan had noticed and started asking questions.

“Have you tried communicating with him about what’s been bothering you? You said Ethan had been keen to talk in the past. Perhaps if you had some mediation…”

“You offer couple’s counseling, too?”

“Actually, I’d find a third party, but we do have those.”

Of course they did. Nothing like a viral outbreak to put a strain on a marriage, right? Mia nearly burst out laughing at the thought, but managed to keep it together. Barely.

“I’ll think about it,” Mia said.

And she would. She just had a feeling she already knew what her answer was going to be.

May 5, 2021:

“You’ve got to be absolutely shitting me.”

Credit to everyone in the room: they were really doing their best not to laugh, or were treating it just as seriously as Ethan felt. Because he was taking this seriously. Because it was bullshit.

“Everything I’ve been through,” he said, staring down the cold compress on his arm, “all of that bullshit. And I’m still…” The only thing that kept him from swearing was Rose being in the room, staring him down with a slightly concerned look. “...I’m still allergic to bees?!”

“It would seem so, yes,” Doctor Marshall said calmly. “Do you want to hear something reassuring?”

“There’s something reassuring about this situation?”

“Your body is having a normal reaction to the sting. Not an exaggerated one, and it hasn’t triggered anything else in your healing. That’s a good sign.”

Damn it, he had a point. “I guess,” Ethan grumbled. Then, “Bees?!”

Jill finally broke the no-laughing rule with a barely muffled snort. “Sorry…” Her pale blue eyes were lit up with amusement as she tried not to make eye contact. “...no, it sucks, it really does…”

That probably should’ve pissed him off more, but…okay, yeah, it was funny-not-funny now that someone was laughing. Ethan deflated a bit, a bemused sigh escaping past his lips. “Just please don’t tell my wife,” he said. “She worries about me enough as it is. You’re telling her I’m fine, right?”

“I’m giving Mia medically accurate information,” Doctor Marshall said. “Unless you want to withdraw her as your-”

“No, no, it’s…” Great, that just means that either she’s misreading the information Marshall’s giving her or the results are worse than I realized. He wasn’t sure he liked either option. “It’s fine,” Ethan said. He peeked under the cold compress again. “Does the medically accurate information include that this bee sting isn’t gonna kill me?”

Ethan thought he felt a shift in Jill’s mood after that comment. That feeling was confirmed as she wheeled him out. “Everything okay with you two?” she asked. “I don’t want to be nosy, I just know this kind of thing puts a strain on…everything.”

“It’s…” Ethan sighed. “Complicated. Conflicting support needs, I think.” That was what his therapist had said when Ethan tried to describe the disconnect between how they’d handled Dulvey. Ethan wanted to talk. Mia wanted to forget. Neither was wrong, necessarily, but it did contribute to why they’d been butting heads on and off before the village. They hadn’t started couples therapy yet. Ethan wondered sometimes if they should move that up the list.

I basically died on her. That can’t be good for her mental health.

“That’s always tough,” Jill said. She had that tone, the one that said she and Carlos had been through the same thing. That was so weird to think about. They seemed rock solid, the two of them. Then again, they’d been together for a while, and lived through a lot during that time. Nothing like practice to improve your communication skills. “The give and take of it all. You’ve got to be supportive without giving up your own needs.”

“And hers,” Ethan added, tilting his head towards Rose as she grabbed at his coat collar. That was definitely a complicating factor. “I keep trying to tell myself that all couples have these problems, but…they don’t. You can say it’s the same thing, but it’s not.” Maybe that wasn’t fair, maybe he was playing the trauma Olympics, but he’d kill for regular problems. He’d kill for so many of their problems to not be tied up in dumbass crime syndicates and undead werewolves and potentially world-ending bullshit. If he could swap places with the Ethan who’d lost an arm to a car accident, he’d do it in a heartbeat. Zero hesitation.

“Yeah, tell me about it,” Jill said. “I think that’s why I was never able to make normal friends. Almost everything feels minor compared to…” She gestured vaguely. “...everything.”

Everything was a pretty good summary of things. And that really summed up how shitty things were for the both of them. “How did you two make it through things?” Ethan asked. “I mean, if you’re okay with sharing.”

“Couples’ therapy,” Jill said without hesitation. “It helped with everything. Even the mundane stuff. And we talk to each other, as much as we can. It used to be a monthly thing when we were active duty. There was a lot happening and we wanted to make sure we had the time.”

That made sense, but it didn’t make Ethan feel any better. How were they supposed to do this when Mia still didn’t want to talk? He couldn’t force her. He’d tried, if he was being honest. It had only made things worse.

How much longer could they just let things stew again?

May 15, 2021:

Apparently, at least another week and a half.

Maybe the mounting anxiety had been a warning.

She’d known from the second she opened her eyes that today was going to test her. Mia hated to blame Ethan, because it wasn’t entirely him. She’d been slipping towards a shitty day for a long time.

But opening her eyes to see Ethan standing upright didn’t help.

“What are you doing?” Mia yelped.

Ethan nearly fell over. Fortunately, he’d been clinging to a chair to support him; it was the only thing that kept him falling down. “Shit!” he yelped back. Then, quietly, “Shh!”

Mia’s gaze darted guiltily to Rose. Fortunately, she was still fast asleep. “What are you doing?!” Mia hissed once she was sure her baby hadn’t woken up.

“I was cold,” Ethan replied. “I wanted a sweater.”

“I could have gotten one for you.”

“You were finally sleeping, I didn’t want to wake you up.”

“What do you -” Mia took a deep breath. “Please sit down. I will get you a sweater.”

Ethan nearly protested. She could see it in the way that his shoulders went tense and his eyes met hers directly. But just as suddenly, he looked away, his shoulders slumping, as he sat down. Crisis averted, she allowed herself to think as she got up to get him a sweater.

That was stupid of her to think. She knew Ethan better than that. She should’ve known. Ethan only stayed quiet for as long as it took to get him the sweater. But once he was holding it…

“I don’t want to do this again,” he said.

Oh, no. “Do…what…?”

“It’s just…” Ethan sighed and rubbed his eyes. His fingers seemed to linger over the scar tissue across his nose. “Back in Europe, it felt like every little thing was an argument. But we never really got at why we were fighting. I don’t want to keep doing that.” He met her eyes again. “It doesn’t feel like you’ve been sleeping well. I haven’t always, either, and sometimes when I wake up in the night or when Rose wakes up, I can hear you…moving around, talking in your sleep. Like how you did after Dulvey. I can walk short distances and you looked peaceful, so I didn’t want to disturb you. You’re dealing with enough without adding sleep deprivation on top of that. I’m worried about you.”

She’d heard those four words so many times. She was starting to get sick of them. “I get that, I do, but you have…” Mia took a deep breath. “You have to start worrying about yourself. Ethan, you died a few months ago. If you get hurt again, if you’d fallen and hit your head…I have enough to worry about without worrying about you doing something stupid, okay?”

She knew, immediately, how harsh she’d sounded. It was starting to remind her too much of the argument they’d had that day in Europe…the one that had nearly been their last argument. Mia rubbed her eyes, hoping that she wasn’t about to start crying. “Please.”

“Okay, okay. No more walking without someone watching me,” Ethan said soothingly. His one hand reached out to rest on her knee. Even with the sweater sleeve covering it, she could vividly see the scar on his forearm. “Stressed about what, honey?”

About the fact that I almost got you killed. That they have to run tests on our daughter and it’s my fault. That you’ll find out the truth and nothing will be the same ever again. That nothing is the same already.

“Don’t do that,” Mia said out loud instead. “Please. You can’t fix everything, Ethan.”

“I’m not…you can talk to me, Mia. I’ll listen. No problem-solving, promise.”

She wasn’t sure she believed him. And even if she did, she couldn’t make herself say the words. “It’s…this whole situation,” she said finally. Not a lie, but nowhere near the truth. “It’s this whole situation.”

She was dodging. From the way Ethan looked at her, he knew she was dodging. She expected him to call her out on it. He always had before. Instead, he just looked sad. “Yeah,” he said quietly. “Yeah, baby, I know.”

He hugged her carefully. Mia was able to embrace him back, but she hesitated at first, the surge of guilt getting the better of her.

She knew Ethan had felt that, too, but he still didn’t say anything.

If his problems had a face, Ethan would have shot them by now.

He guessed Ethan could say his problems had some physical form: his bones, his muscles, the injuries and scar tissue that had hobbled him, the mold that had merged with his cells and turned him into something not quite human. But he couldn’t exactly punch himself in the face. Multiple BOWs had already done that for him, and look where that had gotten him.

He could still be mad at himself, though. Either his body had betrayed him forever and this was just his life now, or he wasn’t trying hard enough. One of those answers was easier to accept than the other one.

Unfortunately, accepting the latter only made the moment that he ended up face-down on the floor in the middle of PT all the more painful.

“FUCK!” Ethan shouted as he flopped onto his back. He wasn’t bleeding, but he’d hit his face pretty hard. “Son of a bitch!”

“Easy…” His therapist helped him carefully sit upright. Tom was usually a pretty chill guy, and usually had the decency to not visibly worry so much when things went wrong. This time he looked worried. “Did you hit the bar on the way down?”

“I didn’t hit the fucking bar. Shit.” Ethan looked around instinctively. He knew Rose wasn’t there, but he couldn’t help double checking. He tried really hard not to swear in front of her. He was just so…

Ethan carefully touched under his nose, checking for blood. There wasn’t anything that he noticed, but he knew what was coming next. “Let me guess, this is the part where we take a break for the day? We’re done?”

The words came out in a snap. Tom didn’t take it personally; the worst part was, Ethan was so pissed, he only felt a little guilty for being a dick about it. He felt even less guilty when he was informed that this was, in fact, it for the day.

At least he could wheel himself around the facility now. It meant he didn’t have an audience for his frustration.

Ethan probably should’ve gone back to his room and lay down. The session had been draining as it was, and he was kind of sore from that landing. But he went down to the ground level and right out the front door. No one tried to stop him, thank God. They probably figured he couldn’t go very far.

He went further than he had before, right out the front door and out into the parking lot, all the way to the far edge. There was just a field out there, and a barbed-wire topped fence. Somewhere on the other side of that was the rest of the world.

A world that he might never get to be a part of again.

Ethan took a deep breath and screamed. It was wordless at first, but quickly devolved into a rapid-fire barrage of every swear word he knew. They could probably hear him inside, but he didn’t care. What were they gonna do? Force him back inside? Revoke his wheelchair privileges? It wasn’t like his day could get any worse.

Eventually his voice gave out. He sat in silence, just him, the midday sun, and the random cars. The sound of approaching boots broke that silence eventually. Ethan didn’t have to glance over his shoulder to guess who it was. There were only three people he knew who wore boots regularly, and one of them was out of the country again. “I can’t go back in there,” he said dully.

“Wasn’t going to make you,” said Jill. “So, how’s a parking lot for a mental breakdown space? I haven’t tried that one yet.”

Points to her, the comment did get a laugh out of him. It wasn’t the sanest sounding laugh, but it was something. “It’s, uhm…” Ethan tried to wipe some of the tears off his face. “...better than a bathroom, I guess. Air quality’s nicer.”

“Yeah, bathrooms are like a bottom three pick.” She sat down in the grass, in his line of sight but off to the left. Her white-blond hair caught the sunlight, contrasting it more sharply against the black hoodie she was wearing. It looked a few sizes too big–one of Carlos’s, maybe. “You want to talk about it?”

He did. Keeping it bottled up was killing him, and maybe Jill would actually understand what was going on here. But for a long time, the words didn’t come. He just stared down at his one remaining hand. It had been working fine lately–grip strength almost back to normal, no more freezing up at random, sensation much better. Why couldn’t everything go that smoothly? Why did this have to be so hard?

Hadn’t they all been through enough?

“...Mia and I’s anniversary is this month,” he said. “Ten years.”

“Ten years? With two disasters in the middle of that? Shit, that’s not bad.” Jill sounded genuinely impressed. “I’m guessing you wanted to get out of here before that?”

“No, not even that. I can handle being here if we really have to.” They were safe here, at least, and safe was all he could really hope for. “I just…I was just hoping I’d be walking more by then. I wanted her to see that I’m okay. And don’t give me the whole oh, you should be dead, who cares if you’re not walking yet speech. I care. I can’t…” He rubbed at his eyes desperately. “It’s not enough. I thought even a few steps would do it, but I can just feel her pulling away and she’s so focused on being worried about me that she’s not thinking about anything else and I can’t…I can’t see her like that. I can’t live through that again.”

He was bracing himself for more questions; what he got instead was a slightly bitter, huffing laugh. A sound of recognition. “Fuck, yeah. Been there.”

Ethan lifted his head. “Seriously?”

“Chris didn’t tell you? I was MIA presumed dead for three years.”

Chris had definitely not mentioned that. “Chris doesn’t really talk much about his BSAA days. Was this before you left?”

“Yeah. One of my last missions with the old crew, actually. It’s a long story, but Carlos was…” She sighed. “...he kept it together for me. And I appreciated that, I really did, but I knew it wasn’t going to last forever. It was just a matter of when.” She started rubbing her sternum as she spoke. Ethan saw her do that sometimes. “Worst part was, I knew that. I just had no way of knowing what would finally do it. It was just the one time, thank God. We were able to talk about it after that.”

“So what you’re saying is that she might have to break more before we can fix it?”

“No.” Jill hesitated. “I mean, that’s not wrong, but that’s not what I’m saying. What I’m saying is that what you’re going through isn’t abnormal. I don’t know if I can fix what’s going on with Mia, and I don’t think you can, either. She has to figure that out for herself, like Carlos did. But you know what kept me sane when everything went to shit?” She made direct eye contact with him then. She had such an intense gaze, her pale blue eyes seeming to stare right through Ethan’s skull. “You’ve gotta lower your expectations, man. I know that you want everything back to normal, trust me, I get that, but that went out the window three years ago. I’ve lived it twice. It sucks, every time, but if you try to force it, you’re just going to hurt yourself worse. Physically and mentally.”

Ethan forced his gaze away from her. It was stupid, all things considered, but he didn’t want her to see the tears starting to form in his eyes. “This sucks,” he said finally.

“Yeah, I know. It’s not fair. I wish it were. But you can make it work. It’s possible. And believe me when I say…she’s just happy you’re still here.”

Ethan didn’t doubt that. He just wasn’t always sure it was enough.

Maybe he was wrong about that.

“Mrs. Winters?”

Mia’s head snapped back up. Doctor Marshal was staring at her with a worried look. “Sorry,” she said. She rubbed her eyes. “I just missed that last part…were we talking about skin samples?”

“Yes, but they’re optional, and more for Ethan’s benefit. How is he, by the way?”

Mia wasn’t sure how to answer that. The conversation from that morning was still dancing through her head. The wounded look on Ethan’s face was burned into her eyelids. “He’s…still a little stir-crazy,” she admitted. “Nothing we can’t handle, I don’t think.”

“That’s understandable. How about you? How are you doing?”

Mia wasn’t sure how to answer that. She wasn’t sure she could lie, not when she had zoned out in the middle of the conversation. There was so much going on, so many things she didn’t have a handle on. “...can I ask you something personal?” Mia said finally.

“Go ahead.”

“How did you get past your old job? How do you…ever make up for something like that? After everything that happened…” Doctor Marshal’s face changed quickly, growing more closed-off than she’d ever seen the doctor. Damn it. “...I mean, I don’t know how much you were involved…”

“Bioweapons development and research,” Marshal said. “So, yes, I was involved. Not directly in Racoon City, I was never assigned there, but…only a few degrees of separation between my department and theirs. I’m sure members of the Nemesis team used my research.”

Oh. They had more in common than she’d realized. “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have asked.”

“Don’t be. It’s a valid question.” Marshal sighed heavily. “Honestly, it took a lot of time. Joining Blue Umbrella helped. Actions feel more like atonement than words. But I had to accept at some point that I could be as sorry as I wanted, but I couldn’t change the past. Even trying to act like the past didn’t happen kept me stuck there. I wasted so much time trying to figure out how to dance around it that I may as well have been stuck in my room, blaming myself. I had to face it, admit it, figure out what I could do instead now, and move on. I still feel guilty now, but I’m not drowning in it anymore. It’s just a feeling. Usually a productive one.”

The difference between guilt and shame. Her therapist had brought it up. Mia was really starting to hate how much the woman was right about things.

“Not everyone is going to forgive us,” Marshall added. “That’s within their rights. That shouldn’t stop us from trying.”

“...yeah.”

They dropped the subject after that, but it stayed with her. It took up so much of her mental space that she almost forgot…

“You’re doing really good,” Carlos said suddenly.

…she’d had an extra set of ears in the hallway the whole time, looking after Rose.

“What?”

“At…all of this. Considering.” Carlos cleared his throat awkwardly. “Just in case no one’s told you that.”

Carlos was an easy man to read. He reminded her of Ethan that way. She could tell he meant it. That didn’t do enough to ease the sudden dread in her chest. “How much did you…?”

“Nothing I won’t have forgotten by the end of the day,” Carlos said. “I’m great at keeping secrets. I can’t retain shit.”

That sounded sincere, too, and just self-mocking enough to get her guard back down. “That’s…”

Goot to know was what she wanted to say. It got stuck in her throat. She was barely able to hold back the alternative response.

I’m scared.

But Carlos seemed to understand anyway. He reached out carefully, only resting his hand on her shoulder when she didn’t move away. He had a reassuring grip, what she’d imagine a touch from a cool older brother or a non-shitty father would feel like. “Is there anything I can help with?” he asked.

“...no,” Mia whispered. The dread was back, joined by a heavier sense of resignation. “No. I have to do this myself.”

Deep down, she’d known it was inevitable. In fact, it was long past overdue. No matter what the outcome…

She owed Ethan the truth.

She wouldn’t be able to fix this until she’d told him.

#resident evil #resident evil village #fic: catch me floating circles in my fish bowl

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many-but-one · 2 years

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Day One: What is DID/OSDD?

I'm going to be honest, I totally forgot about Summer System Education Week until I saw some other folks posting about it. I'm mostly going to talk about my personal experiences with finding out I had the disorder. Each day when talking about alters, system communication, memory loss, etc, I will mostly talk about personal experience, as I feel there are so many people on this website that are way better at explaining scientific research than me. Not to mention, most of my research I've done personally is pretty bare-bones, as while I did suspect I had DID in 2016, I didn't do extensive research and therefore kind of rescinded my thoughts on having the disorder. (Also thought I was endogenic, which is a whole different issue.) I wasn't diagnosed until March of 2021, at 22 years old, and I was diagnosed by my current therapist who is a trauma specialist (as well as a DID specialist, though I didn't know that she was the latter at all) and was able to tell I did indeed have DID. She actually suspected it pretty early on in our therapeutic relationship (I started seeing her in December of 2019) as I showed a LOT of what she would constitute as DID "red flags" but she did not make the diagnosis until she was absolutely certain, by which this time I was showing a lot of signs that were affecting my quality of life pretty extensively. So pretty much all of my DID research has come from her, and the group therapy she runs for DID systems in her care, which began as a psychoeducation group (to learn about DID and how to cope with it) and then turned more into a support group. All of us in the group are now friends outside of group, and let's just say having these people in my life has changed it for the better.

I actually wrote an article for a website called "The Mighty" about what to do if your partner is diagnosed with DID, which has been approved, but not published yet. In it I explained DID like this:

"DID is a trauma-based disorder, characterized in the DSM-V (diagnostic and statistical manual for mental disorders, fifth edition, published in 2013) as a “Disruption of identity characterized by two or more distinct personality states.” Part of DID also includes a discontinuity of behavior, consciousness, memory, perception, cognition, and sensory-motor function. Amnesia for daily events, important personal information, and past traumatic events that are inconsistent with ordinary forgetfulness is also a criteria for the disorder. For myself, this included forgetting several days at a time, blacking out conversations with people at work and school, and not remembering any of my life before the age of 8-9 years old.

Something that is not considered a diagnostic criteria of DID, but is required for the disorder to form, is repetitive childhood trauma before the age of around 7-9. In an effort to explain this briefly, prior to that age, children have separate “ego states” that make up their personality. When they are younger, this includes things such as needing to go to the bathroom, being hungry, or wanting attention. When they get older, children start to form personality traits within these ego states, and around that 7-9 age, all of these ego states coalesce and become one solid personality. Children that experience trauma that is often severe and repetitive over a long period of time, will form amnesia barriers between these ego states. For example, if a child is going through a form of abuse, their brain will form amnesia barriers between the normally functioning child and the memories of the abuse. One ego state will have those memories, while the other ego states will be unaware. This allows the child to function normally and allow them to survive what is often extreme trauma that they would not be able to handle if they lived with the trauma memories in daily life.

So what happens with these ego states that are separated by amnesia? As a child experiences more abuse or more of the world and its dangers, these other ego states will “switch in” and handle those difficult moments. These ego states that experience trauma are often referred to as “EP’s” or “Emotional Parts.” This does not necessarily mean they only hold emotion, this just means that they hold trauma memories. Ego states that (generally) do not hold traumatic memories are called “ANP’s” or “Apparently Normal Parts.” They function in the day-to-day life such as going to school, going to work, doing chores and homework, etc, that the EP’s would not be able to handle. They often are unaware of the system existing and therefore unaware of the trauma, but not always. The ANP that is “out” most often is generally considered the “host” alter. In a statistically large portion of systems, all other alters will pretend to be the host (often referred to as “masking”). This can make it difficult for outside people to know that a person is a system. This is called remaining “covert” and is sometimes considered essential for a system’s survival in the real world, where a majority of people are not a system.

(Side note: a system is a group of alters, also known as a “system of parts.” I plan to write another article talking about DID vocabulary and the different alter types in a system.)

When these ego states experience the world, they will form personality traits that encompass their experiences. They will have different names, ages, appearances, tastes in food and clothing, and even different allergies or vital signs to other alters. Some systems even document having alters with different eyeglasses prescriptions or reaction to medication." (Quoted from the rough draft of my article "My Partner Has DID! What do I do?" published for "The Mighty," which may later have edits or be shortened, but keep the same topic and writing style. This article is not published at the time of this post, which means the title may also change in this publishing process. I post every so often on this website, but have focused most of my attention on creating articles to help people learn about DID/OSDD from someone with this disorder. If you want to see more of my stuff on The Mighty, here's the link to my profile, Many But One.)

The discovery of our system (I use "our" system because I am not the owner of the system, and it feels weird to say "my" system. Other systems do this and that's totally fine, but our preference is to use "our." Same with "our" alters) was pretty rocky and I'm learning more pretty much every day. I've been pretty open about sharing my diagnostic story on here. Essentially I've shown signs of being a system for a very long time, as early as middle school, according to my mother after telling her the symptoms of being a system and her telling me things she noticed about me growing up. Even as early as being a young child she noticed shifts in behavior that seemed unexplainable at the time. She didn't have access to resources that explained any of my bizarre behavior, so she just did her best to raise me the way I was. When things started really rearing their ugly head was around 16-17 years old, when I was living with my father primarily and he was being very abusive to me. It caused a lot of splits, including folks like Alice, April, and Aeron--and an abuser introject of my father who will remain unnamed. As I've gotten to understanding the system, I realized that the person I thought was me, [legal name], split as well. [Legal name] split into Aeron and the person I know as myself, Jules. I had always thought I was [legal name] but never felt any association with that person. She had been a cis female, had a lot of memories and stuff I don't have anymore, and many other likes/dislikes that I don't have either. I didn't identify with our legal name or being cis female at all. After discussing with Aeron after she came out of dormancy, she holds all of the stuff that I thought I had lost in some kind of brain injury during that time. (Spoiler alert! There was no brain injury.) I was splitting and doctors had no idea what the fuck to do with me. I was having such excruciating head pains that I couldn't see, and was often passing out from the pain. I grew so weak that I literally fell out of my car when I arrived home from school one day and my mother rushed out to take me to the hospital. She essentially had to carry me into the hospital because I was practically brain dead at that point. Not literally, just had no idea what was happening. I was dissociating very very heavily and NOT having a good time. I don't remember a lot of the details during that time period, but I was sleeping almost non-stop for 2 weeks straight, had the most excruciating headaches I've ever had in my life, and had several other incidents that made my mother get a lot of brain tests done. CT scans, MRIs, I even saw a neurologist that wondered if I had MS (multiple sclerosis). Lol nope. Just splitting from trauma. I actually missed so much school that the courts were threatening to court order me to go to school. It was hell.

That was during my junior year of high school (around 2014-2015) and I have only just learned what that was all about, and that Aeron is actually the parts of [legal name] that I had thought I'd lost in that brain incident. Things only escalated from there, and in 2016 I believed I was a system, as I could hear distinct voices and had all the symptoms. Extreme amnesia, dissociation, identity confusion, etc. Except I was certain I didn't have trauma, so I thought I was endogenic. After quickly realizing that wasn't possible, I decided there was no way I was a DID system and that was when we essentially had a "system reset." Not literally, in the endogenic way of thinking, but our gatekeeper essentially threw up very strong amnesia walls, yeeted any thoughts of systemhood out of my mind, and became a permanent co-conscious observer. This was shortly after a su*cide attempt that was stopped by him. You can imagine my confusion when in the middle of the attempt, someone else takes control of my body and fixes everything and literally saves my life. Didn't really know how to explain that one for a really long time. That was in late 2016.

In 2017 I transferred colleges and James, our gatekeeper, was a permanent part of my life. I started thinking I was transgender since I always felt male. (James is a cis male.) But I'd randomly not feel male, so I was confused. Also identified with several different names, one coincidentally being the name of one of my abusers, which I didn't know was an abuser at the time because I didn't know I had been abused.

I got through several years of college under the guise that I had rapid cycling bipolar type one with psychotic features. I didn't. Medication never worked. The voices never went away, they were only slightly muffled. I'd still dissociate and lose time. I started at this college wanting a pre-med degree and promptly switched to teaching after my first semester despite loving science and doing amazing in all of my medical related classes. Not really sure why I did this and I regret it all the time. I love art to pieces, but making myself an art teacher was not a good decision in the slightest!

In mid 2019, I started seeing my school counselor primarily for my anxiety and negative thinking patterns. As in, never feeling like I was good enough. She was absolutely amazing, but she was not equipped with the complexity of my issues. We never got into childhood trauma, but I did talk about my issues with dissociation and PTSD symptoms. When I ran out of sessions with her, she gave me a list of therapists in my town. A couple months ago I realized every single one she gave me was a trauma specialist. She clearly knew, but didn't know what to do, so handed me off to someone more qualified. Which was amazing and literally changed my life. Late 2019 I started seeing my trauma specialist and things continued on. I look back at old journal entries and it pains me to see how confused I was all the time. Losing time, losing control over myself, dissociating, struggling to finish my degree when all of my colleagues seemed to find their work easy. I almost didn't make it past my senior year, but I did by the grace of my professors. I ended up having to take a fifth year.

Then in 2021, I was student teaching and two months before I graduated I was diagnosed with DID. It was...shocking, to say the least. At that point, I knew I heard voices but that seemed so out of the blue. My sister later told me (after I came out as a system...she was one of the first to know other than my wife--then fiancé) that she tried showing me Anthony Padilla's documentary about DID and someone literally told her "DID is fake and anyone who has it is faking, do not EVER show me this again." like VERY rudely. She had been stunned because she knew I had interest in mental health stuff, but vowed to never mention DID again. Turns out this was James still trying to cover it up. Smart man. He did an incredible job, truly, and there were times when we were doing Telehealth during COVID that he would literally MUTE our therapist when she started talking about the possibility of trauma or a dissociative disorder and PRETEND he couldn't hear her or that the signal was out. It was so funny to realize he was behind our "connection issues" later on. (I mean, the fact that it just so happened to "go out" RIGHT when she started mentioning trauma was a little sus, so she wondered if someone was purposely hijacking our conversation to keep things quiet. At this point she was very certain DID was on the table and was pretty much just waiting for the right time to say it, as she was positive she had talked to other parts before who had tried to pretend to be me.)

In the very beginning all I knew was Alice. Then Brett and a child part came out. Then Foster, and finally, James. I thought that was it!! HAHA! I met one trauma holder a couple months later and figured she was our only trauma holder. Oh, if only. Almost a year and a half later and we know of around 29 parts, and James and Valentine have said there are more.

The diagnosis was so hard. It took a very long time to get off the denial train. I still have denial, but not so much for the alters existing anymore. There's so much evidence that they are real, but the hardest thing to accept is the trauma. How horrible it really was and how it essentially ruined us. It's fucked with my head ever since the reality of it began to unfold, and I know that it's only going to get worse, unfortunately. However, as hard as it is to know that this happened, the system existing saved my life. We are very helpful to each other and most of us care very much for one another. We are a good team on most days. While I would rather have never been traumatized and would rather be a non-system, I wouldn't trade our system for the world. We are many, but one, and I will love every part of myself. No matter how scary they seem. There was a line that my officiant in my wedding said that sticks out to me. (She knew about the DID). It goes like this:

"May you honor the complex dimensions of one another in ways that reflect your commitment to loving every part of one another, even the parts that may seem scary or unrecognized."

This hits home not only for our wife honoring us or us honoring our wife, but also us honoring and committing to ourselves, to achieve wellness.

That's all I've got for day one. That was a lot! Sorry for the ramble, I just think that sharing how my experience with diagnosis went might be able to help other questioning systems. If you have any questions about anything, please let us know! We would be happy to answer. And thank you to @system-of-a-dumbass for hosting the Summer System Education Week!

-Jules

#summer system education week #diagnosis journey #did osdd #many but one #jules #dissociative identity disorder #did system #did alters

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tales-of-cerano · 1 year

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As 2022 comes to a close I'm starting to look back and reflect on the past few years, something I haven't really done much in the past. Now I will for anyone who is willing to listen. You don't know me, I probably don't know you very well, but I invite you to do the same.

2020: The Year of Pain

An edgy start I know but a lot happened in this year. Fear in many flavors, opportunities closed, regression we're all themes of the year. For me personally nothing terribly tragic happened. I most likely had COVID and gave it to my whole studio in the beginning of January before I even heard of it (parents friends who had a business trip to china got a weird illness and it just worked it's way as it does). A hiring freeze locked me out of an opportunity with a university conservatory that I was extremely excited for. I felt lonely without my friends. Besides COVID I was consistently stressed about future graduation and career choices. It's a year that went so slow yet now I forget most of it.

2021: The Year of Transition

I went through 3 major transitions in my life during this year: graduated college, started a salaried job, socially and medically transitioned. Way more than I expected and probably more than I could handle. It's weird now that I think about it how much actually happened. The imposter syndrome took a lot of the good out of those accomplishments at the time but now I am starting to see it. I also will flex here because it wasn't really recognized but I was valedictorian of my college. My class rank was 1 out of not just the major/department I was in but also the entirety of the NCState class of 2021. Like 1/6000 people. I don't tell that to anyone really cuz I don't want to be a bragging asshole but I worked really hard for it so I'll flex in front of internet strangers who don't know me.

2022: The Year of Change

Not a lot of "things" happened this year like last year but I finally had enough time to actually sit down and reflect on things because of things slowing down a bit. I worked with a therapist for a few sessions. I started listening to Healthy gamer gg stuff and started thinking about my mental health as something that was a part of me rather than something to solve. My outlook changed. I can safely say that I am 1000% better with being comfortable with myself than I was before. Anxiety attacks over things went from being dissociative and lasting for weeks to being something manageable. It's nothing I ever thought would ever happen. I think the biggest thing that kick-started my change was to give things the benefit of the doubt and try them. I used to fight meditation saying it was something that wouldn't work for me cuz I'm too in my head until I just said you know what let's try. What's gonna happen it won't work and I waste an hour. So I did and now its one of the most influential things of my life.

2023: The Year of Forgiveness

This upcoming year I'd like to focus on letting myself live with mistakes I've made in the past and let go of some deep shame I have. I was dumb and while I never did anything like commit a violent crime against anyone I still feel like I caused a lot of emotional damage like bullying people in middle school and being critical to my friends. It's all stuff that I've either worked though, became aware, and changed. Of course I don't want to just toss it aside like it didn't happen but I want to recognize that while it was something I did it's also something that I can forgive myself for and move past as a better person.

This might change and who knows it might be another year of pain. Could be anything tbh. I'm open to it.

I wish anyone who reads this an insightful new year. Thinking and analyzing the past can be helpful to some. Tho if you have issues with deep and intense trauma I recommend you talk to professionals first. Exploring the past can cause things I think and make things worse when there is trauma.

#inner thoughts #year review #reflection #mental health #2023

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hi-chae · 1 year

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The Sorority Logs - #1 The Beginning

hello! we're the sorority! you may know me from @the-sorority-system and our syscourse posts but here is our more casual blog.

the details of this log will be our diagnosis journey, our thoughts on how therapy is going, and more. we need a healthy way to put these thoughts out. whether or not we're a disordered system will be determined in the future and will be in the contents of this log but we find this log to be important anyways. If I am disordered, cool, this will be a great way to detail our journey. If I'm not, this will help questioning systems figure certain things out.

DISCLAIMER: THIS IS ALL FROM MY PERSONAL EXPERIENCE FROM THE STATE I AM IN WITHIN THE U.S. DO NOT see this log as a checklist of everything you need to do to get referrals / diagnosed. This is all within my personal experience and yours will be different. There is also a general content warning for doubting your system. is disclaimer will be put on the beginning of all of my posts.

The journey will be long... let's start

it all starts in... god i don't even know where the proper start is. was it in summer of 2022, where i had a mental breakdown so bad that lutz came in and took care of me? was it in summer of 2021, where i discovered the endogenic community and finally felt heard? only for that to be ripped from me in that same winter? or was it sometime in middle school, where i was "faking" DID because i thought it was cool but my members were never anime characters and i felt something physically change when i was them?

the answer is: i dont know. maybe it started in childhood when i made up a best friend named rachel or maybe it was far from that. i dont know. and im scared to know but also im excited to find out.

i live in an area where information about DID isnt exactly up to date. according to more experiences systems, not a lot of therapists know how to recognize it. and not a lot of therapists in general specialize in DID.

but im getting tested anyways. and im incredibly lucky to do so. because i got a referral to get a psych eval and im getting follow up tests in March. that should be exciting right? it is but... i dont want to be told my problems arent serious and they arent what i think they are and that the way i view myself is wrong. i feel like a lot of our identity focuses on how our brain works and its... terrible. i wish i could accept everything i was told i am but theres something deep inside of me who knows what i or we are.

no more thoughts. lets get some dates down.

end of November

i get my psych eval done. i dissociate the whole time while he asks me and my mom questions about my mental health. i think he notices this because he wants testing done on my dissociation. i feel relieved but also terrified. mostly because of my insurance.

DEC 13TH, 2022

in therapy, a protected little comes out with our permission. she cries and cries and babbles baby talk. our therapist can see our hurt and wants her to know she's doing a good job. but something feels... off. he refers to them as our core and talks about how she's actually a big kid who isn't who she actually is. she knows this isn't true. she cries anyways. she trusts him. thats a relief. but something still feels wrong. she continues therapy groups, still sensitive, still small, until we leave for the night, where one of us forces her to go back (she did a really good job). we process whats happened. it feels wrong, feels gross. we cant put a finger on it other than that we feel invalidated somehow. to some people we went to about how we werent who we thought we were. they comfort and reassure us. our biggest worry was that he didnt believe us but if he didnt believe us, he wouldnt have brought out that little. his information is just a little outdated, go figure. they suggest we go to him the next day to ask him to do more modern techniques

DEC 14tth, 2022

we ask him to go for more modern techniques and he said we would talk about it in our next session. we straight up ask him if he thinks we have a dissociation disorder and he says he doesnt think i do. he thinks i have very separated "protective parts of myself". it sends me into a panic. i ask a few people if they know if most therapists know how to recognize DID, because something felt off again. not a lot do, the more experienced system says. they press more and analyze that it seems like he knows he's out of his area of expertise and that his info is just really outdated due to the fact that DID used to be seen as MPD and there was a time where MPD was seen as "needing the inner child to be healed" (it also wasnt considered a dissociative disorder). that somewhat reassures me. what reassures me the most is hearing how if hes accepting of the idea to talk about it next session, he's willing and encouraging of it. if he avoids the topic, he's likely doubtful. more than anything, i want my experiences to be believed. im glad he believes me. and im glad i can believe that he believes me.

that leaves me with today, awaiting the next session. if im honest, im scared but hopeful. logically, i know i wont be invalidated in my feelings. his heart is in the right place and he wants to help and understand and believe in me. im nervous and he can sense that but i know whatever im going through, he's willing to put in the effort to see who the sorority system is.

#osddid #did system #actually did #dissociative identities #actually dissociative

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likeabxrdinflight · 1 year

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The past several years I've been doing this thing around new years where I reflect on the past year and try to characterize it with a single word. I've been doing this since 2017 (going into 2018) and I kinda want to consolidate those into one post here, just for fun I guess.

2017 was uncertainty. This was the year I finished my master's degree, I moved back with my parents, and I applied to PhD programs. I didn't know where I was going to be when 2017 ended, and I didn't know what 2018 was going to bring.

2018 was change. This was the year I got accepted to my program and moved from small town midwest to New York City, so. I think that kinda goes without saying.

2019 was settling. There was a lot of personal growth this year, but really it was more about settling into my program, into myself as a therapist, and into my new life in New York.

2020 was trauma, particularly collective trauma. You know why.

2021 was readjustment. The lockdowns ended, vaccines became available, life restarted but it wasn't the same. We all had to readjust ourselves to the new post-covid world, and come to terms with the fact that there was no going back the world of before. This year was about finding a new normal rather than longing for the old one.

And 2022, I think, was processing. Partly processing the past two years of the pandemic and its effect on me, my patients, and my family and friends. But also processing some older traumas that got re-awakened in light of learning some new information from a trusted source who was there at the time. I've been trying to re-orient myself to this new understanding of...really the last 20 years of my life, in some ways. It's a lot to process, and I'm certainly not finished doing that work moving into 2023. But it absolutely characterized 2022, particularly the back half of it, so. I think that's the word for this year.

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quevadilla · 2 years

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hey, I just wanted to say, especially re: college, if I can offer some unsolicited advice. Take your time. Try some stuff and see what you like. Took me way too long to realise I like one-on-one training and hands on work! Which is essentially the trades, but like, never ever would have envisioned myself there fresh outta hs. Keep trying, but don't force it. Times are tough right now & jokes about 2022 being 2008 are accurate, and that was bonkers enough the first time around without the Panini. Be gentle with yourself whenever possible and keep your head up. Take longer to do things and don't be afraid to try. Rest when you need it. You've got this. It'll come with time.

Yeah fsfs. I actually just got my first job and have been having a lot of fun, and i haven't felt this good since probably sophomore year in high school (~2018 oofie). I like the coworkers I've been on shift w a lot so far. It's a difficult start, but having a job has forced me into a routine so I'm regularly taking my antidepressants again and I'm seeing a therapist regularly and everything. (Luckily, i got a combo of visual and hands-on training for my job, but my first day of training was sitting w an ipad for 2.5 hours of training vids and i gained nothing but memorizable info w/o doing it myself)

Anyone else reading this too, really listen to this advice. It's so hard to be kind to ourselves when we're struggling, especially when we see others (at least seemingly) managing well and especially with the trauma the Panorama has caused for everyone. High school left me super burnt out and i barely had enough credits to graduate (not to mention wanting to drop out for the longest time), but i let the fear of letting the people in my life that i respect down (referencing starting college right away/staying in high school even though it was physically and emotionally draining) come before my well-being and let me tell you, that never ends well.

If you're struggling as a student, know that i had an older woman in my biology lab that had to put the master's degree she wanted on hold to care for her family, but she's at a place now that she can achieve that goal. Everyone reaches their different 'milestones' at different times, and maybe yours comes later than your peers'; it's not something you can reasonably force on yourself.

I may never return to college, and I've finally made my peace with that. It just wasn't the right time for me. I'm making my health and happiness my priority for the first time in a really long time and I'm so proud of where I am now. I attended classes from September-October 2021 and have spent the rest of the time recovering.

If someone is upset that you're not 'where you need to be', they don't have your best interests in mind. You need to protect your health and happiness before anyone else's. It's astronomically difficult to come to terms with (at least for me), but you can't sustainably keep the peace and put yourself second. It's just not possible.

Thank you so much for this ask, honestly. I feel fortunate to have heard similar reassurances and encouragement from my family, but i don't think people are told that it's okay to not be ready for things instead of hurting themselves in the process of 'keeping up' and making others happy, and especially not from family or friends.

In summary: be kind to yourself and take your time; cliché as it sounds, life is a marathon, not a race. Your health and wellbeing are more important than anything else, so protect them. If you need help doing so, reach out, whether it's directly to support or to someone who will help you find support.

#long post #medication #antidepressants #college #really take this to heart #personal #personal experience #this got a little out of hand length wise #maybe overshared a little but hey who hasnt on here #once again i really really appreciate this ask #stuff may be out of order #it's the adhd and i don't feel like editing this rn bc its 2am for me #i think it reads easy enough as is #scatterbrained as it may be #love how i was receiving advice and turned it into giving advice thats basically just restating the initial advice #just added my experiences which will hopefully be helpful ir relatable for others

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mattherp · 5 days

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hopefully i will return here and laugh.

After a quick search, I noticed that my last feelings post was made in February of 2021. A lot has changed in three years! Significantly! I think I've decided I won't change my About Me, I think little about the format of this will be altered. When the new year started, my therapist and I decided I should try to do three things daily: meditation/mindfulness, walks, and journaling. Obviously January is a resolutions month and it was easy enough to do a lot of these things for two weeks. Then, went on some travel, came back and all new habits had been eviscerated. I think I really, really struggle on how to have an outlet. The therapist is an outlet. The partner is an outlet. Friends are an outlet. Journaling is an outlet. Sure, sure, sure, sure. But nothing has felt permanent. My most rudimentary self soothe tactic in the infancy of adulthood (college days), was my tumblr/blog. It feels generational, the early 2010s blogging craze. All of this being a preface to me being back here, on Tumblr of all places, when life is mostly going so incredibly well.

I have thick skin in a decent number of situations. I really believe that. But there is a crack in the armor, one that I've learned to co-exist with as a vulnerability -- the vulnerability that causes me to be vulnerable. I get riled up when I'm feeling protective, and I'm riled up. But how do I process that? I can't just wait five days to tell the therapist. I feel a social politeness pull not to air laundry on Insta or Twitter (can you believe it has a "different name" now?!). I don't actually feel like I'm making progress with just a journal, it's like I'd rather shout at the void in hopes that it created a seed for change. Because keeping it purely private only serves to mediate. If I was in another life, or another person, maybe I would turn a feeling into a song or channel it into a story. But for better or worse, the stories that capture my creative heart these days are not for emotional outlets, but as celebrations of what cause me fun.

Like I've hinted at, hopefully I will look back at this time of bitterness and be okay or be amused that I felt so strongly. But as I adult a little more year after year, I feel so ready to prune off that which isn't viable, and though there are so many complex emotions surrounding it all, I don't want to keep giving energy to places where I'm not getting it back. This could be a significant moment of realignment. I won't know for a while.

But truly, focusing on that which is solid and consistent and brings me joy is the greatest medicine. I'm excited to travel with my partner, I'm excited to continue group storytelling with folks who are reliable, and I'm also happy to know that I don't have to make myself miserable asking for friendship where I'm not getting it back -- I have so much of my own personal individual hobbies (gaming mostly, I'm so predictable) to look forward to. I need to keep that in mind, and I think simplicity will also be a deep recharge when the calendars aren't out here doing the most. This has not been a great week. But we are inching towards much brighter times.

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themomsandthecity · 28 days

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How Can I Have a Baby When I Already Take Care of My Elderly Parents?

"When are you having a baby?" is the question I've been asked the most since marrying my husband in 2021. At 36, I often wonder the answer myself. Even though I've always wanted to have a child, I'm not sure if it's in the cards for me anymore. Especially now that both of my parents' health has severely declined. For all of my life, my mom has been in and out of hospitals, and my dad has been our rock. He recently got sick, though, and it broke me. My mom's health issues advanced so much that she now lives in a nursing home, because my dad is not strong enough to take care of her on his own. And me? I live on the opposite side of the country. Because of this, I fly from my home in Los Angeles to crash in their one-bedroom apartment in Connecticut at least once a month. I'm happy to be there to support them, but these trips are physically, emotionally, and financially draining. When I'm in town, I'm their therapist, nurse, chauffeur, cook, assistant, and maid. I'm bouncing around hospitals, riding in ambulances, and waiting with them in emergency rooms. I'm acting as a liaison between them and their doctors, pharmacists, therapists, friends, and church. My parents are my best friends who did everything for me growing up, so the least I can do is be there for them when they need me the most. Motherhood would mean I could no longer be my parents' support system, and I'm all they have. But this had made planning for a baby nearly impossible. It's hard to prioritize anything over my parents, let alone getting pregnant. I already feel like a bad wife, seeing as I've spent weeks apart from my husband in the first years of my marriage. How could I possibly add a baby to the mix? Despite knowing all this, I often imagine what getting pregnant would be like. Would I be able to make these trips across the country while pregnant? Would I be able to make these trips with a newborn? Would I be able to support my parents with a child? The reality is, I don't think so. Motherhood would mean I would no longer be my parents' support system, and I'm all they have. I know what you're thinking: even though moving to be closer to my parents may seem like the logical solution, it's not an option for my husband and me. Not only is a cross-country move more expensive than plane tickets, but our careers are here in California. I also know some people might argue that I could make it work if I wanted a baby badly enough. Plenty of women out there become mothers while taking care of their parents, or without the support of their parents entirely. But I don't know if I'm one of them. It breaks my heart thinking about bringing new life into this world while my parents are in their worst physical states. The truth is, I really would love to be a mother. I'm just not sure if I want it to happen at my parents' expense. Related: I Don't Want to Be a Mom, and No, I Won't Change My Mind --- Gabi Conti is the author of "Twenty Guys You Date in Your Twenties" and the writer, executive producer, and cocreator of Apple's No. 1 fiction podcast series "Bad Influencer." You can catch her covering entertainment news for Hollywire or read more of her work on Cosmopolitan, Giddy, Betches, Best Life, HelloGiggles, Elite Daily, Mindbodygreen, and Brit + Co. --- https://www.popsugar.com/family/baby-elderly-parents-essay-49354998?utm_source=dlvr.it&utm_medium=tumblr

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kenmagoesblep · 1 month

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For the writer ask meme: 5, 8, 37!

5. Share one of your strengths.

i feel like i got a good grasp on how to convey and evoke certain emotions in my writing as the years went by!! its something i always admired in the fics and books that i enjoyed, and as a big feeler myself, i always wanted to get these feelings across thru what i do as well. it fills me with joy to see when things land gldskhgdslk

8. Share a snippet from one of your favorite dialogue scenes you’ve written and explain why you’re proud of it.

a part of me feels like this is cheating bc theres a lot of prose in between but i have to be honest and put it down here

“Before you go…” once they’re done with their meal and simply sitting in quietness as the food settles in their stomachs, Giyuu speaks out, reaching for Kyojuro’s hand over the table. “I wanted to talk to you about something. If you let me.” Giyuu tentatively places his hand over Kyojuro’s fingers, looking at him with purpose . Kyojuro’s hairs stand up at that and his heart — the poor, aching thing — starts running again as he nods vehemently. That’s the cue for Giyuu to fully hold his hand, get up from the table and gently guide him back to the couch. Oh, that fateful couch. Giyuu lets go of his hand once they get there and sit down, right next to each other. “I’ve been thinking about… A lot of things lately,” he starts, bowling his hands in a tight fist over his knees and worrying at his lip, initially not looking at anything in particular. “Mostly about us.” Giyuu glances briefly at Kyojuro, letting out a brief sigh before speaking again. “At first, I thought it’d be best to let bygones be bygones and… not keep you waiting for me, when I never felt worthy of your time,” his eyes drift down. “But after what you said to me last time you were here, and… With a little pushing from my family, I decided to look for help.” There’s a pause for deep breaths. Kyojuro didn’t realize he was also holding his breath until now. “I got into some medication and started seeing a therapist. And it’s been… really hard, looking at myself. Or what’s left of me,” he mutters those last words, looking at his own hands like he can see his own broken pieces. “It doesn’t feel much better, but it’s a start.” There’s a pause there that Kyojuro feels like filling with encouraging words, but he doesn’t. Giyuu has more to say, certainly, he just needs some time to recollect his thoughts. He takes a few deep, grounding breaths in silence, tightening his fists so much his joints go white, before looking back at Kyojuro again with a newfound determination. “Therapy helped me see a lot of things,” he says, voice more certain now. “Some things were ugly, some were not, but mostly… It helped me see that I can only decide what I feel about things and about myself, not what others feel. And I may not understand why you would want to be with me, or feel like I really even deserve it, but… I want that, too.” There’s another moment of hesitation as Giyuu chews on his lips, cheeks growing pink, as he reaches out for Kyojuro’s hand again and weakly laces their fingers together. “I love you, still, Kyojuro,” he whispers solemnly. “Would you give me another chance?”

the reason is... kinda personal i guess? its something i havent spoken much in any public platforms but i think its been long enough since i posted this chapter (2021 holy shit?!) and the only person that could possibly be offended by it basically doesnt care abt my existence anymore, so here it goes!

this is an excerpt from my biggest fic to date, which was a collab fic i wrote with a close friend of mine at the time, but i wrote the last chapter on my own. not only did we start having creative disagreements at some point (that i took way too long to voice), but i also fell in love with them, confessed and got rejected, that spelled the end of our collaborative effort since they decided that, when they said "i'll let you take creative lead for the finale" they meant "i'm never touching this fic again, not even with a 7 feet pole".

so i had a lot of complicated and raw feelings abt what had happened between us and the fic, but ultimately i managed to finish the fic on my own thru the sheer power of wishful thinking and projection! this specific scene felt so monumental to me and i'm happy about how it turned out to this day - and ironically glad they never read this part.

37. Talk about your current wips.

oooo i'm so excited!! i havent been writing much the past month or so since getting into a new job (working as a cook is so hectic and tiring istg!! everydays 50/50 either i'm living the dream or i'm questioning my career choices) but i've been working on three akeshuake fics that are bringing me a lot of joy to think abt even in the most tiring days!!

one of them is a silly 4+1 fic where joker gets hit with the rattled ailment (mechanic in game that turns players into rats) on purpose to spend time with akechi

the second one is my ghost hunters AU that i'm writing for the akeshuake AU zine, in which joker is a medium who runs a paranormal investigation channel on youtube and he invites akechi - who makes videos debunking and exposing fake paranormal videos - for a collab

and the last one is a more personal project, exploring akechi's character thru the lens of him being demisexual and developing feelings for joker !!

#kimmi says #kimmi writes #ask game #writers ask game #my fic #my fics #my writing #i dont remember my own tagging system rip

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