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#well she did diagnose me with depression which is something at least
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being autistic is like. so nothing is ever going to be easy? it's always going to be this hard? no amount of medical appointments will ever make me better? my entire life i'm going to be told that it can't be that bad if i was able to get a job and get along with people and there's really not much they can do for me. that they can address the symptoms (depression, anxiety, etc) but i need to do a blood test first to see if it's not just anaemia, and have i considered that i'm just tired out from work? and i seem fine honestly it's probably not even autism, everyone gets a little bit overwhelmed sometimes. here, have some magnesium. if you eat more vegetables you'll be fine. there's nothing else we can do. my computer says you're not autistic because you were able to make friends and you show signs of empathy. no i haven't updated my autism research since 1996. you're making a big deal out of nothing you seem fine. we can't help you. you seem fine. we can't help you. we can't help you. we can't help you.
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glitterarygetsit · 5 months
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Goodbye, Fawn
My brilliant friend Fawn (@esterbrook) died on Friday.
Fawn and I met when I was about 24 and she was about 43, and at the time, foolishly, I thought I was the cool one. I very quickly realised that I was wrong, and that Fawn was who I wanted to be when I grew up. 
She was independent, funny, smart, and passionate. If there was anything she didn’t like, she would do something about it—she campaigned for abortion rights and did phone banking for US elections. She was sharp and kind and pragmatic and gave amazing advice.
Fawn loved stories and history—we met on an archaeological training dig in York, and later bonded over fic in the Sherlock fandom—and was forever turning up old letters and pens and other things that she breathed new life into. She found a pen at a flea market and tracked down its original owner; she chronicled a WWII romance from a box of photographs (https://www.tumblr.com/a-certain-party-i-love).
For the past twenty years, Fawn kept a diary that will now be donated to a women’s history library. I hope one day someone devotes as much care to her memory as she did to other people’s.
I find it hard to think of many people who are leaving as big a legacy as Fawn. Her activism, writing (also wrote the first book on surviving at work when you have depression), and (towards the end of her life) participation in a clinical trial have helped so many people directly, and will continue to reverberate. 
And she’s still not done: even before she was diagnosed with ALS, she arranged to donate her body to forensic science (and wrote about it here: https://www.nytimes.com/2019/02/28/well/live/my-afterlife-on-the-body-farm.html).
I’m so lucky to have been able to make wonderful memories with Fawn. We went on a road trip in Northumberland and laughed at all the dicks in Chesters Roman fort with her friend Martin, who I would eventually move to Berlin with; she visited us there and baked a derby pie full of bourbon for Friendsgiving. We went to Brittany and got emotional about the Neolithic standing stones at Carnac. We walked all over London and she showed me spots I didn’t even know about despite living there for three years.
In May, I got to visit her in her beloved San Francisco, where she introduced me to tamales, giant redwoods, and her cat Cosmo, successor of Rupert, the fluffiest and most handsome gentleman who accompanied her for most of her last ten years. 
We went over and under the Golden Gate bridge, drank many cups of coffee, roamed around the Castro and Haight-Ashbury, waved across the Pacific, browsed bookshops and made sourdough and did laundry and talked until late into the night.
She was diagnosed with ALS less than a year and a half ago, which was the cruellest fucking thing not only because she deserved so much more time on this earth, but because it made talking, eating and living independently—all things she adored—so much more difficult and eventually impossible. She chose to take advantage of California’s aid in dying law and leave on her own terms, because nobody was ever the boss of Fawn, not even death.
Fawn, I miss you already. I always imagined we would one day be old ladies cackling at dirty jokes together, and it’s a crying shame that the world has been robbed of the wicked glint in your eye at least thirty years too early. You changed my life for the better in so many ways, and I still want to be you when I grow up. I love you. Sleep well.
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reidsaurora · 2 years
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"Never" ~ S. Reid
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Summary: When Y/N doesn't show up for work multiple days in a row, Spencer Reid is determined to find out why. Though, when he finds out the reason, Y/N never expected him to stay… much less help her through it.
Pairing: Spencer Reid x Fem!BAU!Reader (no pronouns used but Fem!Reader is somewhat implied)
Word Count: 2,127
Content Warning: heavy BPD content, mentions of food, mentions of binge eating, mentions of medications, very mild swearing, lmk if i missed anything!
Genre: mostly Hurt/Comfort and Angst mixed with Fluff
Extra Notes: i hope this is OK and somewhat accurate. i do not have BPD (or at least, not that i know of anyway) so i attempted to do some research and make this as accurate as possible!
Based On the Request: "hii! request for spencer reid, reader has bpd and goes into a depressive spiral and spencer realizes and takes care of her and gives reassurance and comforts her, hugs cuddles kisses all of that. maybe also he helps her take a bath bc she struggles with hygiene when she's spiraling and it's all sweet n stuff, just very very fluff."
Features the One-Liner: "Aren't you getting tired of taking care of me?" - "Never."
Originally Written: 06/28/2022
Criminal Minds masterlist can be found here!
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"𝐒𝐡𝐞 𝐰𝐚𝐬 𝐣𝐮𝐬𝐭 𝐚𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐫 𝐛𝐫𝐨𝐤𝐞𝐧 𝐝𝐨𝐥𝐥, 𝐝𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐦𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐨𝐟 𝐚 𝐛𝐨𝐲 𝐰𝐢𝐭𝐡 𝐠𝐥𝐮𝐞." - 𝐀𝐭𝐭𝐢𝐜𝐮𝐬
"Y/N? It's Reid, open up!" Reid shouted outside my front door.
I supposed I should've let him in by that point. After all, he'd been knocking for three whole minutes.
As I slowly plodded toward the door, I wondered why he'd knocked for so long. I wondered what was so important, but more importantly, I wondered why I was so important.
"Yeah?" I asked sarcastically as I opened the door.
He took a second to look me over. Rightly so, considering I hadn't been to work in three days, and I hadn't showered since at least the weekend. I thought for a moment as I tried to remember the last time I'd changed clothes, the last time I did something as simple as brush my teeth or comb my hair.
Reid could tell, too. I figured that out when his face fell. Hesitantly, he asked, "Are you feeling OK?"
"I'm fine," I insisted. "I was a little busy though," I lied.
"Uh…" he uttered nervously. "Don't take this the wrong way, but were you too busy to call in and tell Hotch you were taking a couple days off?"
I ran a hand through my hair, only just having realized how oily it must've been. "Is that why you came—to reprimand me in Hotch's place?"
"No, no!" he exclaimed as he held his hands up. "I actually wanted to check on you. For myself."
"Really?" I asked, genuinely surprised.
I tried to process his words. Who would want to check on me? Who would go out of their way to make sure I was OK?
He nodded silently. "May I come in?"
I stepped aside before warning him, "Brace yourself."
He took a look around my apartment. I was surprised he didn't run away at the smell of old food on the counter and the sight of the trash lying around.
He turned back to face me with furrowed brows. "I'm assuming your place doesn't always look like this?"
I shook my head. "Only when-" I stopped myself, wondering how I could've let that slip.
I felt a wave of guilt come over my stomach. Surely, he didn't care why my apartment looked and smelled that way. I was surprised he was even still standing in my living room after what he'd viewed upon his arrival.
After an awkward moment of silence, he spoke up again. "Don't take this the wrong way, but have you been diagnosed with borderline personality disorder?"
Leave it to Spencer Reid to figure that out within a minute of entering my home.
Despite the fact that he was correct in saying so, I tried to argue by saying, "That's crazy. Why would you think-"
"Well," he cut me off, "I just thought the symptoms kind of added up. The first sign was that you didn't call to tell us you'd be out of work, which would fall under 'impulsive behavior'. Then, there's the fact that you tried to push me away when I first got here, which could have to do with fear of abandonment. All of the junk food wrappers would tell me you've been eating a lot. Binge eating is another common symptom among people with BPD. Then-"
"Yes, Reid," I cut him off this time. "I have BPD." That felt weird to say out loud.
"I noticed an empty bottle of Fluoxetine on the counter. Is that what you take for it?" he questioned.
I slowly nodded as tears began brimming up my eyes. "It was."
"When was the last time you took it?"
The tears finally started to fall from my eyes as I answered, "Over a month ago."
His lips pressed together before he wrapped me in a hug. "I'm sorry you're going through this."
My tears started to fall more rapidly when he said this. "Why is he being so nice to me? Does he really care that much about me?" I contemplated.
He held me for a few minutes. God knows I needed it. It was nice to hold something that wasn't my pillow. It was nice to smell something that wasn't my own, awful stench.
For a moment, I pondered what it would be like to taste something that wasn't cheap pizza or Chinese take-out. I quickly stopped myself. Like hell he'd wanna kiss me in the first place, much less in these conditions.
"I promise I don't mean this in a rude way. I'm just curious, I swear," he started, "But, when was the last time you took a bath? Like a nice, long, hot bath?"
I chuckled sarcastically. "In this place? Never."
He pulled away as he asked, "Is there a reason why?"
I wiped my cheeks with the pads of my fingers, but it was pointless. My cries just continued on. "I never felt I deserved it."
He looked to the floor, his face somewhere between sympathizing and wondering. After a moment, he said, "I have an idea."
"I'm all ears, I suppose."
"You can say no, of course. But, I thought, maybe I could help you. I used to wash my mom's hair a lot when she would have really bad episodes," he explained. "I know it would be a little weird, but you can wear a bathing suit. I'll step out when you're ready to wash everything else," he said awkwardly.
For the first time in what felt like an eon, I cracked a smile. Sure, it was only a partial smile, but Spencer Reid had managed to make my lips turn upward for a split second. That was an accomplishment I never thought would happen again.
I nodded. "Yeah, I'll go change."
And so, the next thing I knew, I was sitting in my bathtub, wearing my favorite pink bikini, and feeling Spencer Reid of all people lather my hair up with coconut-scented shampoo.
"Can you close your eyes for a minute?" he instructed softly. He spoke almost as softly as the music he'd started to play on my speaker.
That was the second time I cracked a smile. It took him nearly ten minutes to figure out how to connect my phone to the speaker, another five to figure out how Spotify worked.
I broke myself from my memories, quickly squeezing my eyes shut. The feeling of warm water trickling down my face soothed me—something I hadn't felt that whole week.
After a couple minutes, he stood up. "I'm gonna go so you can finish up in here, but please take all the time you need," he told me.
That was the first time I'd ever heard those words and actually wanted to listen to them. I'd been diagnosed for years, but not once had I actually wanted to give myself the time and care that I needed.
Reid had that effect on me. He could've told me to do anything in the world and I would've done it. I was convinced he could've told me to drive to Alaska and my reaction would've been, "Where are my keys?"
"I promise I won't leave you," he said. "I'll still be here. Just call for me and I'll be there."
Normally, I would've assumed it was a lie. Who would want to stay and help? But, his words seemed truthful, so I felt that there was no reason to doubt him.
As he walked out, I leaned back into the water. It had been forever since I fully submerged myself in hot water, taking in the steam and the serenity of it.
I sat there like that for at least an hour before finally getting up to strip down and actually take a bath. By the time I did it, my fingers and toes had already pruned up and the water was nearly cold.
I took longer than I normally did when I took a shower, savoring the feeling of body wash on my skin. It was like I could feel the filth leaving my body as I rinsed off.
Finally, I stood up before letting the water out. I dried off rather quickly before throwing on some fresh pajamas.
Almost as soon as I finished dressing, Reid tapped his knuckles lightly on the door. "May I come in?"
"Mhm," I hummed.
He noticed me holding my comb in one hand before taking it from me. "May I?"
I nodded, but still asked, "Why are you being so nice to me?"
"Because you'd do the same if I were in your position."
He ran the comb through my hair carefully, so as to not rip any knots out. I was surprised at first that he'd know how to brush it so carefully, but then remembered the times he'd let his hair grow out.
We stayed silent for a few moments as he finished combing through my hair. I took a couple deep but silent breaths, taking in the feeling of euphoria all this self-care was giving me.
Silently, he took me by the hand and led me out of the bathroom. As we walked down the hallway, he repeated my sentence from earlier. "Brace yourself."
Three was the new record for how many times I'd smiled that day.
As we rounded the corner, my jaw nearly fell to the floor.
He'd taken the time to not only clean up the trash, but also wipe all my counters down, mop the floors, and it looked as though the living room had been vacuumed.
"I'm not the best cook in the world, but I found some bacon and eggs in the fridge. I thought maybe I could make you an omelet or something."
I knew I should've thanked him first. Instead, a couple tears fell from my eyes as I asked, "Aren't you getting tired of taking care of me?"
I could hear empathy in his voice as he answered, "I could never get tired of taking care of you."
I wrapped my arms around his midsection, which was followed by the feeling of his hands meeting my back. We stood like that for a while, basking in the feeling of each other. I listened intently to his breath, his chest vibrating every so often as he hummed contently.
"Whaddaya say?" he asked as he unraveled his arms. "I'll make us some dinner, you can put on your favorite movie, and we can just hang out together?" In a panic, he said, "Only if you want to, of course."
I nodded with my fourth smile of the day. "I'd like that a lot."
And so, after a half hour of watching him struggle to make an omelet, various shouts of "I promise I'll clean all this up!", and an almost burnt batch of bacon, Reid finally presented me with my dinner.
"I hope the presentation makes up for the taste," he said awkwardly, scratching the back of his neck.
"I'm sure it'll be fine, Spencer," I smiled back.
His face turned to a soft expression. "That's the first time you've ever called me Spencer."
My face nearly dropped when I realized the accuracy of his statement. "Yeah, I guess it was."
He swallowed nervously before saying, "I have a question. You don't have to answer if you don't want to, though."
I nodded slowly, hesitantly preparing myself for his question.
"Is there a reason why you never refer to us by our first names? Even when we're off duty, you always call us the same way you would on the field."
"Well, as you know, fear of abandonment is very common in people with BPD," I said apprehensively. "Ever since I first showed signs of BPD, I became hesitant to use nicknames," I explained. "I thought that if I used nicknames, I'd get too close and then someone else would leave me again."
Spencer took a deep sigh before hugging me again. I'd had a hard time believing that he'd hugged me the first time, much less multiple times in one day.
"I-I thought," I stuttered before swallowing hard, "I thought that if I ever called you guys by your first names that I'd lose you too." By this point, I was in tears again. "I've lost so many people because of this illness. I couldn't risk losing you guys too."
He hugged me tighter than he was before. "I promise I'm not going anywhere."
"Well, there's only one way to prove it," I said with another smile, though my tone was sort of daring.
"What's that?"
"Show me you really mean it."
He must've understood what I was implying, because the next thing I knew, his lips were on mine and his arms were wrapped around me tightly.
If there was one thing I knew after that kiss, it was that he wasn't planning on leaving any time soon.
"𝐈 𝐥𝐢𝐤𝐞 𝐧𝐨𝐭 𝐨𝐧𝐥𝐲 𝐭𝐨 𝐛𝐞 𝐥𝐨𝐯𝐞𝐝, 𝐛𝐮𝐭 𝐚𝐥𝐬𝐨 𝐭𝐨 𝐛𝐞 𝐭𝐨𝐥𝐝 𝐈 𝐚𝐦 𝐥𝐨𝐯𝐞𝐝." - 𝐆𝐞𝐨𝐫𝐠𝐞 𝐄𝐥𝐢𝐨𝐭
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Hi, everyone!! Welcome to my @foxy-eva's milestone challenge/@lunar-affection's imagine request hodgepodge!!
I saw the one-liner prompt I used and it immediately felt right for this request so I just mixed the two together and got this! I hope this was OK on both accounts :)
anyway, i'm really proud of the way this turned out and i hope you guys like it too!!
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mermaidsirennikita · 5 months
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i imagine you heard about the cait corrain stuff?
Oh, yeah. I saw her recent non-apology. A couple thoughts on that:
A) as somewhat with mental health issues that can be somewhat severe when I'm not properly medicated/doing therapy (I have bipolar disorder) I find it pretty offensive when people blame their bad behavior on mental health issues. I'm not perfect; I've definitely done some shit I'm not proud of when in the midst of depressive or manic episodes. But I've never been incapable of some degree of awareness, and I tend to feel (based on many years of therapy and psychiatric treatment) that it is relatively rare for people with serious mental health conditions (including substance abuse) to be absolutely "not at the wheel" as it were. Yes, people do have psychotic episodes (although, I feel as somewhat with the diagnosis I have--I often see people with the same diagnosis treat mania as shorthand for a "psychotic episode", but mania and psychosis are not the same; mania can result in psychosis, but they do not inherently go hand in hand; I've been manic multiple times, but I have never been psychotic, and I've never had true delusions). Yes, people have delusions. I don't think that's what happened with Cait, and I'll tell you why.
Cait says she had a "complete psychological breakdown". This does not track for me. Based on her general behavior, I think Cait would've mentioned if she suffered from psychosis. Hell, I think Cait would have mentioned if she'd suffered from mania, as again, people tend to get this incorrect idea that mania means you have zero control of your actions. Because she didn't mention those things, I can believe she suffers from mental health issues, I can believe she has substance abuse issues, but I do think she absolutely used manipulative language here that left a lot to be interpreted. Does she owe us her diagnosis or diagnoses? Of course not. But "complete psychological breakdown" is some vague wording that imo is there to imply something bigger than "I was really depressed/anxious" (which can be a big deal! You can say that! It doesn't deprive you of responsibility, ut it's a big deal) without committing to a false diagnosis.
b) The lack of responsibility for the racially targeted nature of her sabotage is honestly... not surprising, but still so abhorrent. Cait did not solely go after authors of color (correct me if I'm wrong--I think there was at least one who was white) but she did primarily go after authors of color. Additionally, she--and I'll be honest, I do think this was calculated--either sicced her friend or passively let her friend essentially slander a disabled Black woman (the "albino in the hen house" comments, which I don't think were at all meant in an ableist fashion, and I genuinely don't see how a logical person could interpret them in any way other than "there is a white person who is a fox in the hen house". Come on.).
Furthermore, I noticed that least two of the authors Cait didn't mention there were authors of color. We know she low-starred Thea Guanzon's book, and Thea was apparently a legit friend who met Cait in person and blurbed her book? She also low-starred R.M. Virtues's books, which is truly deranged as R.M. writes books that really don't have much crossover with Cait's, aside from featuring Greek myths (I think? I know that's what he writes, her book is murkier to me) and poc. R.M. is a Black trans man, by the way, so...
c) I personally believe these were calculated moves as well. Thea has a big fanbase that Cait didn't want coming after her any more than they already are. Cait left R.M. Virtues off the list because she was afraid of being accused of not only racism, but transphobia. And she of course left off authors like Xiran Jay Zhao and Bethany Baptise because they had her number and she's afraid of them.
Plus, the authors she specifically apologized to were authors she essentially admitted to with her staged "Lilly" situation, so she couldn't avoid confirming that.
d) I've already seen white authors trying to excuse what she's done. And that's just so disgusting to me--as a writer, as a reader, as someone with basic human decency. There is basically nothing Cait can say to justify her actions. The best thing she could have done was own up, sincerely apologize, and take full responsibility.
e) I've seen some discussion surrounding Del Rey apparently moving Cait's book to a 2027 pub year. In their initial statement, they did say specifically that she was being removed from their 2024 schedule. That does leave some room for her to be published later.
Now, this could have to do with them still working out contract issues; it could be cold cost-benefits analysis; this could be all of the above. The thing is that there are books that I kind of doubt will ever be published unless things really change (Maya Banks's next Scottish book) that still have dates programmed in. I don't think Cait's book still having a release date means it's definitely coming out.
No matter what, she hurt people. It would be laughably stupid if the harm caused wasn't a reality. Ridiculous.
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erigold13261 · 1 year
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Since I have never seen others talk about it, let me blurt this out. Is Yinu’s mama neurodivergent? Reason: She doesn’t seem to understand that her daughter is in distress, up until the “I hate you all” moment. (You can say she was taken over by rage, but still…) She even tells her daughter to “play for mama one last time!” Even when her daughter is clearly not in the mood to play. What do you think? Thank you, and stay awesome!
That is entirely possible! Though I think a lot of people see her as just an over protective mother who got heated up in the moment and lost sight of what was important: her daughter.
I don't exactly know what kind of neurodivergency Mama would have if she did have one. I know there are a lot of different things that fall under the neurodivergent label so there might be a label that fits her really well or close enough that I am just not knowledgeable about.
I will say that I do feel like Mama has some form of anxiety or trauma from losing Papa. Other things might have added onto this, but that is probably a major moment in Mama's life that she will never fully recover.
Mama is quick to anger and loses sight of things around her as she focuses on what upsets her. She is doing what she thinks is right in the moment with no real time to stop and think about what she is doing. This could easily be from anxiety or trauma, but it could also be a form of poor anger management. Some people are just naturally quick to anger, which Mama could have been, or an underlying condition could be making her more susceptible to her emotions.
She might also have some kind of depression going on. I can see this as something she has struggled with for a long time even before meeting Papa as a mid teen. It only got worse as she grew older. She might have had postpartum depression for a year or 2 before it got better, then Papa started getting sick and now she feels alone but puts on a brave and happy face for Yinu.
She could POTENTIALLY have a personality disorder, possibly one of the cluster B or cluster C disorders, but I am not as knowledgeable on those disorders to really speak on them. And I don't want to make an assumption just based off her anger and impulsivity when it comes to what we see in game since personality disorders are often villainized and I want to avoid that. I would either have to do a LOT more research or see someone talk about this who has that kind of disorder.
For me at least, and how I personally make Mama in my head, I can see her as having trauma based depression and anxiety, along with an overall depression and anger control issues that might connect to or stem from another disorder/neurodivergency that I am not aware of at the moment.
Oh also, I do think you might have been asking if Mama could be autistic or have ADHD (since it seems like a lot of people think that is the only kind of neurodiversity sometimes), so I could see her having some form of autism. Honestly I actually headcanon Papa as someone who has been fully diagnosed as autistic and Yinu as having autism too. So Mama could also have autism and that is why her and Papa worked so well together, they were that kind of autistic duo that had similar interests and aversion to things that allowed them to help each other cope with a neurotypical world.
And honestly, Mama having autism or some form of it could also explain why she doesn't see Yinu's distress until it is bluntly shoved in her face along with having impulsive behaviors and unstable moods at times. Or how hearing a piano snaps her back to reality and calms her down quickly. That song could have been a way Papa calmed Mama down when she was getting overwhelmed as I see Mama as getting angry or mean when overwhelmed. While with Papa I see him as probably a crier who bit his arm or did something kinda self harming in a way but Mama would hold him and bake him chewy things to bite/chew on to de-stress.
Okay yeah, Mama is autistic, depressed, has anxiety and anger issues. That is basically all I have for her right now, but you are right, I never seen someone talk about Mama potentially having a mental disorder/neurodivergency! I've seen Eve, Neon, and DJSS get talked about a lot. A tiny bit with Sayu, mainly with the crew though. I don't think I've seen people talk about Tatiana all that much, but I am sure I've seen at least one thing about her and her mental state. Mama though, yeah I have not seen much of anything for her.
[You stay awesome as well!]
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lovejosephquinn · 1 year
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Warning: DV Mention...
Okay story time based on my mood, I figured it out. This is really personal shit so if you aren't interested please keep scrolling, it's a shit thing for me to talk about even years on, it haunts me in my sleep still and I just need to get it out.
So about 8 years ago I suffered a really shitty physical and mentally abusive relationship, for almost 2 years I went out of my head thinking and believing that I was the problem.
It started off as mental abuse, something I've always been against but got myself into. It started off well, but people grew concerned when I was literally being bought expensive things for no reason at all and taken out at least 2 nights a week, controlled on what I wore, what I ate and what I did with my friends.
He got kicked out of his mum's house and I took him into MY parents house without even asking, keeping him there for the week as I didn't want to see him go without. I didn't know where he lived, he lied to me about that for a year and a half, then I found out when he lied about the address he had on his ID which he left over at mine by accident, he made excuses but he eventually took me there. It took me a year to even meet his mum. She never knew I existed.
So all of this time I was getting cheated on by my ex boyfriend with several different women, one who he eventually had a 6 month affair on, then when I caught him out he told me that I was insane. It sent me mental always looking through his phone (which I have never done with any other previous relationship) just to see if there was something else I could find.
Eventually it became physically abusive. The first night it happened was after a night out with him and his friend, we were walking back to my house and because I wouldn't have sex with him out in a public area, he dragged me into a dark alley and made me do it. When I cried after he pushed me into a thorn bush right next to us and took a picture of my scratched up arms, posting it on social media, making out that I fell in it myself and when my mum questioned me, he didn't let me answer, he told her I was way too drunk and again, fell in.
It got worse. He got me pregnant, I found out when I was about 13 weeks and although I wanted to keep it since I'm against termination, he threatened that he would take it out of me himself if I didn't do something about it, punched my stomach and I miscarried.
I seeked help. I was diagnosed with severe anxiety and offered medication but I declined, because I knew I was stronger than that. I ended up lying to him constantly, not telling him where I was because I didn't want him to kick off. Sleeping with other people when I was with him just so I could feel something happy at the time. I broke another person's heart because of him.
He went on holiday with his friends and I couldn't get a hold of him one night, his friend answered his phone eventually and another girl was in bed with him. I overdosed that night. He told me good and that I'm not worthy of being alive.
He still proceeded to buy me everything, call me a gold digger and psychopath to his friends yet he was the one doing all this. I'm not materialistic in any way, shape or form. My parents and friends hated him, one of my friends AND my stepdad once tried to swing for him when he upset me but yet I'd always stick up for him because I loved him...
I'd had enough eventually. Going back and fourth, up and down and in constant circles of depression and anxiety and fed up of it all. I ended things for good after almost 2 years of it. I got out. Which I'm glad I did because I don't think I'd of been here much longer.
My point is, was that I saw him today when I was out, randomly for the first time in years and to tell you the truth, my stomach felt sick to the core. I was shaking, cold sweats and every memory of what happened to me when I was only the mere age of 20 struck through me.
I'm better now anxiety wise, a lot better than I was anyway.
But I still have awful panic attacks that lead to me not being able to breathe and being sick, I still get nightmares where I wake up in a sweat. I still am afraid to this day.
(Sorry to offload all of this.)
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cassandrattpd · 9 months
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even though 1989 is my least favorite album, it came out when @damn-its7am and i lived together. right after i graduated from college, moved out of my parents' house, and across the country from arizona to illinois. most of my distinct memories of listening to it are during winter driving (which was traumatic at first for someone who learned to drive in phoenix) and that is why it will always be a winter album to me.
a lot of feelings 1989tv is digging up under the cut
and that entire period in my life is......fraught. i was finally free (somewhat) of the weight and trauma of living at home that i had desperately been hoping to escape for so long. i was with my best friend!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! i was happy and excited but also struggling with mental illness the likes of which i wouldn't even begin to get a grasp on until years later when i was diagnosed with bpd. it somehow felt like finally getting to have positive experiences more often made those negative feelings sting a thousand times worse. i couldn't find a job for six months!!!! i felt like a failure. and when i finally did (when haylie got me a job, really) then i had to contend with having a real life job for the first time!!!!! but i had someone i was excited to come home to and who loved me and who i felt like i could finally be a real person with. then i had to contend with the extreme jealousy that came with her good and healthy traits of: having other friends, happening to be falling in love at the same time, having school AND a job to be focusing on instead of spending time with me (please note: i know these are NOT rational things to experience jealousy over, it was the undiagnosed and untreated bpd, we have since discussed this period in our lives and are better for it, i feel very grateful to have a friend who has empathy for my mental health struggles 💖, but i am feeling weirdly emotional about 1989 right now, thus it is being aired out in this post lmao - if you experience these kind of extreme emotions over your relationships like.......seek help, not being facetious, i say this with love and empathy) (also note, said person she was falling in love with is now her husband and we love him, we always have, a very rare good man - he was never the problem) (he and i also have in common that we can do a smashing dennis quaid impression)
i was also contending with like.....the fact that my mom was dying......and that i just left. and i was mad at her. and i felt so guilty. but i also didn't want to talk to her bc her brain was so messed up that she wasn't even really my mom anymore. and maybe it wasn't even that i was mad at her, maybe it was that it was too painful to answer the phone and try to carry on a conversation with someone who couldn't string two lucid thoughts together. but looking back on it now, the lucid thought WAS just im sick and im scared and i don't know what's going on and i want to talk to my baby and to this day that stills eats away at me and makes me feel physically ill with hatred for myself.
it felt like i was in a freefall and still to this day i don't know if it was a good or a bad thing, but probably both. at least i jumped, at least i did something with my life and that was better than the stagnation and depression i was in before. i was suicidal and i had more anxiety than i had ever had in my life......but it also kinda finally felt like there were glimmers of hope. and the everyday of my life, when i wasn't living in my emotions, was good. I know the way im talking about it sounds so terrible but i look back on this time with such nostalgia as well. and it really was a first step toward a healing journey that im probably going to be on my entire life. it just feels like SO critical and crucial to who i am as a person - and 1989 was the soundtrack over all of it.
i think that is why i am just so in love with the tv cover and her smile and it being the FIRST album she's smiling on. she's reclaiming that time in her life with a breath of freedom and peace and looking back on it happy and triumphant and PROUD of herself.
fuck yeah. you did that. me too.
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hurtmeicantakeit · 9 months
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trigger warning [suicide, drugs, addiction, emotional, physical and s*xu*l ab*se/r*pe, m*rder]
i haven’t been active on here since forever and since i’m in a pretty bad place right now, i finally downloaded tumblr again. crazy to think i had this blog for about nine years (i started it in 2014 i think), back then i was doing pretty bad, struggled with severe depression, daily self-harming and suicidal tendencies but still had the hope that in two, three years things would be better - turns out i was wrong. a lot has changed ever since, i don’t know if it’s for the better or worse. what i can say - i never imagined my life would be like this. in the last three and a half years, things went downhill. it started in march 2020 when my best friend committed suicide. i’ve always been prone to trying out drugs but so far never struggled with addiction. well, when she died, i couldn’t take it anymore. i began taking opioids and benzos every day, luckily i was able to stop after a couple of months, but started smoking daily and haven’t been able to quit ever since. the longest period of time i managed without was three weeks and that was almost two years ago. at least i’m clean a couple of substances i’ve been ab*sing a lot, nowadays i only smoke weed, drink alcohol and do benzos (if i need them), even though my psychiatrist prescribes me those and once in a while i do take other substances, mainly just for fun though.
during that time i was diagnosed with bpd and ptsd since i could only remember one short term traumatic event from 2016. eventually i started to remember that my parents were ab*sing me emotionally and physically back when i was a child. the bpd diagnosis turned out to be completely inaccurate, instead i got diagnosed with complex ptsd (october 2021). every now and then new memories/flashbacks of being s*xu*lly ab*sed occurred but couldn’t pin down when, where or who the abuser was. a bit later flashbacks and dissociative episodes started to have more effects on the body. i didn’t know what that was and it did scare me, especially since i hate not being in control. mid 2022 i finally managed to go see a doctor for these episodes and they diagnosed me with psychogenic non epileptic seizures.
a bit later, a new memory occurred, but something about it was different, this time, i knew the location. it was my parents’ basement. i spoke to both my therapist and my psychiatrist about the flashbacks and they said it’s likely that it actually did happen. since then new memories have been occurring at least once a week or so. then, my therapist left and i had to adjust to someone unknown. in the beginning, it was okayish but after a short time it felt like she wasn’t the right therapist for me. it didn’t seem like she was listening to me or trying to understand me. after thinking about it for some time, i decided to quit therapy and start looking for someone new, better versed.
march this year i had the first appointment with my current therapist, someone who actually knows what they are doing. i started opening up about a couple of symptoms (which i did before, they were not listening though) and it really seemed like she’s trying to learn and understand. a month ago or so she told me that apparently i do have dissociative identity disorder. even though some symptoms were somehow pointing in that direction, i couldn’t believe it. if i’m being honest, i still can’t. on some days i’m scared i’m lying and simulating, on other days i want nothing more than that it all turns out to be a lie.
it’s weird, for such a long time i thought that i had a great childhood (even though i have amnesia for the years up until i was eleven years old) and loving parents. as i got older, i found out that that’s far from being true. my parents have been abusing me emotionally, physically and s*xu*lly ever since i was a young child. sometimes i wonder if there’s even more they hide. there are so many memories/flashbacks of places i’ve never been to, people i’ve never seen in my entire life. someone from the system implied that our body has been sold and still is. quite often i wake up in the morning just to see the body’s got new bruises, some times c*ts as well. my therapist is assuming that certain things still might be happening during the nights and on the weekends. she started talking about escaping these structures, possible punishments from my families side and protected apartments. so many questions are surfacing along with the flashbacks. what confuses me a lot is the fact that a few of my therapists plus my former psychiatrist suspected that all the kinds of ab*se have been happening in my family for many generations. i’m not sure if i ever mentioned it on here - my aunt (my fathers’ sister) was m*rdered a long time ago, beforehand someone r*ped her. my parents told me when i was around ten/eleven years old and i never questioned it or associated it with my family, but now i wonder if they actually told me the truth or if someone of them had something to do with her death. sometimes i wish i never started digging in my past but the point of no return has been crossed, i cannot go back. it’s hard for me to understand what happened, also because most of the trauma just happened to the body, not to me. most of the time i’m complete denial of both the trauma and the did-diagnosis. it can’t be real and i most certainly don’t want it to be real.
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occult-roommates · 1 year
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Lügner, Lügnerin
Back at Audrey’s place, Dawud brushed his teeth, as he was getting ready to go to bed. However, upon hearing his best friend cry in her bedroom, he had to make sure everything’s ok in there.
Audrey: I’m so scared, what if aliens literally don’t like me...Oh my god, what if aliens are racist? Dawud: Hey, don’t worry. One of my roommates is an alien and they’re very much in love with black Earthling women. Audrey: ...Dav...What are you even talking about?  Dawud: Look, Audrey, in theory I’m supposed to keep it a secret, but that’s the truth, and I’ve been wanting to tell you for months. One of my roommates is an alien, I am not joking. Their name is Kino Gurafee and- Audrey: Kino? Dawud, you’re making this up. It’s literally the German word for movie theater. Like, I remember back in high school we did a project for German class where had to talk about, and I still remember this sentence verbatim years later from how hard we memorized this project; der letzte Film den wir im Kino gesehen haben. In fact, Kino Gurafee sounds like a play on cinematography. Dawud: Why would I make a play on cinematography out of all the words on the planet? Audrey, if I was messing with you, I would have name the alien something like Diese Nawtz or Uar Mome. Audrey: I also remember while we were doing that project back that you got fixated on the word Kinematographie and would repeat it on loop for months on end.
Dawud had no memory of this category 5 echolalia event, but now that she mentions it, yeah, it did happen. Damn, that girl memory might actually be way too efficient for her own good. Anyway, he started arguing with her that no, he’s not lying, he does indeed live with an alien and then...she slapped him, out of nowhere.
Dawud: What the fuck Audrey! Audrey: Look, I might be an autistic girly girly girl, I might love pink and have an actual unicorn decal on my wall and be obsessed with aliens, but I’m still a grown ass woman. Don’t start telling me very obvious lie in order to make me feel better like you’d do to a child! Dawud: Alright! Yes, I’m lying! You’re happy now!
Well, he did not sound convincing at all. But instead of pissing off Audrey even more, it just made her regret slapping him, it was obvious enough he was hurt, not just physically but emotionally. 
Audrey: D-Dav I’m so sorry. Dawud: I’m so tired of lies. Like, earlier this month, I freaked out at Daniele and my pilot friend from work cause Dan told me he made out with him. And in hindsight I feel so stupid for not realizing it right away. It was so obviously fake. I hate lying actually, make me feel bad. Audrey: Wow, go tell that to your mother, who you pretended you were still in school for more than a year when in actuality for most of that time you were a depressed NEET sleeping on my couch. Dawud: Ok, yes that was messed up, but you thought I was happy and comfortable living a lie? In fact, while she knows the truth now, I’m pretty sure it strained our relationship by a lot, which really fucking hurt. She might never trust me ever again after that. Ever since, I try to be as honest as possible. Audrey: Thank god cause that whole alien roommate thing shows you’re a pretty bad liar actually when you’re in front of the person. At least you got away with lying to your mom by avoiding her for a whole 18 months. Dawud: I’m not even good in telling when people are lying. Like that whole body language thing sounds like bullshit honestly...That or I might be autistic too, I don’t know. I feel like I don’t have enough traits to qualify, but I wonder pretty often. Audrey: I mean, I’ve been suspecting it too...And so does my mom...Your mom knows but she doesn’t believe it. Dawud: What?? Audrey: Yeah, back in 5th grade when I got diagnosed, my mom noticed you also fit a lot of the criteria, so she told your mom and she kinda denied it cause admitting it would “put your future in jeopardy”. Also it was around the time your father’s died so you were under a lot of stress already, and you were being bullied a lot to begin with. That would just have put even more weight on your shoulders. Dawud: I don’t even understand why I was being bullied so much back in elementary school! I mean, I don’t think it was that obvious I would grow up to be queer and I only got fat during puberty. Audrey: Well, you are from an Iraqi family and it was the 2000s...
Oh, ok that was a lot to take in on a Saturday morning at 4 am. Well, assuming he indeed is, that would...explain a lot. Yeah, getting diagnosed in 5th grade would have put a lot of weight on his shoulders, but so is being an undiagnosed adult who is trying to make it into this world as if nothing is wrong. Also, funny his mom didn’t want to get him diagnosed cause it would put his future in jeopardy, but in the end Audrey ended up a fine mostly functional adult and he’s just been all over the place in recent years...Sometime he wasn’t even all over the place, he was just straight up in a dark place.
Audrey: Though, let’s say, considering we’ve been the best of friends since kindergarten, I know it’s because we were next door neighbours and our parents were friends, but like...Ok, it’s ironic cause I’m about to use an idiom, but you know, birds of a feather fuck together. Dawud: ...Don’t you mean flock together??? Audrey: I mean...they can fuck too...If you know what I mean. Dawud: No, in fact I don’t.
Whelp, Audrey don’t know what she expected.
It all started because Audrey wanted to see a flying saucer, and now he’s finding out something new about himself. I mean, it’s not 100% confirmed, but it seems pretty likely. Much to process and think about as he’s trying to fall asleep at 4:30 in the morning.
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rosenallies · 2 years
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6 and 47 for sick synth verse? 🥺
I’m upset and bored if anyone would like to send me some of these angst prompts 💗💗 maybe I can channel my depression into some writing <3 and I think this one might be the saddest rendition of this au yet which is saying something </3
6. "If I was gone, would anyone notice?"
47. "I won't lie. Going through with the surgery is just as risky as doing nothing. The prognosis isn't good either way."
——
“I won’t lie. Going through with the surgery is just as risky as doing nothing. The prognosis isn’t good either way,” the doctor said sullenly, the same expression they’d seen before from countless other doctors since Synthia had been diagnosed nearly 15 years ago now.
Synthia was the first to speak, the others rendered silent. “What are we gonna tell Natalie?”
There was no time to even take a breath before she burst through the door, school bag slung over her shoulder. “Tell me what? What’s going on? I came as soon as Noni texted.”
Shooting Gia a glare, Synthia sighed. “Baby, you shouldn’t be missing school, everything is fine.”
“Dad, please,” she said, tears welling up in her big brown eyes.
Synthia could feel his chest ache, maybe it was from looking at her, the girl they had all raised from just a tiny toddler suddenly almost an adult or maybe it was from everything going on with his already weak body.
“Nat,” Kendall warned softly, “give the adults a minute please. I’ll let you know when you can come back in.”
The doctor slipped out the door, a curt not thrown their way so they could have a moment as a family.
“But I’m almost 18! That makes me nearly an adult!”
“It’ll only be a minute,” Synthia promised, winking at her like he always did, like it was their not so secret little gesture.
“Fine,” she mumbled, slipping out the door and leaving the three to discuss.
“You heard the doctor. The prognosis isn’t good either way,” Synthia started, “I’d rather not have another operation.”
“What?” Gia stood up, hands on their hips, “you can’t be serious.”
“Gia,” Kendall started, the voice of reason between them.
“What?! You’d let him just give up?”
“I-“
“Guys,” Synthia sighed forlornly, “if I was gone would anyone notice-“
“Don’t say that!”
“You didn’t even let me finish, of course you’d notice I was gone. But wouldn’t it be for the better? You’d notice all the happy things in life again. You wouldn’t have to worry about taking me to appointments anymore when I can’t drive myself, you don’t have to worry about cooking meals I can stomach, you wouldn’t have to constantly worry about leaving me alone. You wouldn’t have to worry anymore.”
Before either Gia or Kendall could open their mouths to protest, a shaky gasp came from the cracked door.
“Fuck,” Gia muttered, “Nat, come here.”
She walked back in the room, tears running down her red cheeks. “Is that what you think we think about when it comes to you?”
“Baby, there’s so many things you missed out on as a kid because of me.”
“Dada,” she muttered like she was a kid all over again. It had been years since she called him that.
“I need you,” she said softly, “maybe I didn’t get to do things other kids got to do, but they didn’t have three amazing parents looking after them either. Maybe we only went to Disneyland once and we only lasted half a day because your legs were hurting, but my friends who went on family vacations twice a year all over the world, didn’t feel the amount of love I feel on a daily basis. Please, don’t give up, please. I listened to everything. I don’t want you to go, dada, please, don’t leave us. You have to at least let them try.”
Tears welled up in Synthia’s eyes and Gia hid their face in Kendall’s neck, undoubtedly crying too. Only Kendall held it together, the only one able to remain stoic when everyone else was falling apart. “Nat, your dada is very tired. It’s been a long road for him, the decision is his,” he said, firmly but kindly, even if he wanted to shake Synthia until he chose what they all wanted.
“You’re not just gonna let him give up, are you?”
“I’m leaving the decision up to him,” he said finally, rubbing Gia’s back as they sobbed harder.
Natalie looked to Synthia, who looked back at her sadly. “Baby, unless the prognosis looks significantly better with the surgery, I can’t. I can’t do it.”
She let out a deep sob, curling into him in the tiny hospital bed like she did when she came to visit him when she was a kid. “It won’t be the same without you, it just won’t.”
“I know, baby, I know. I’ll miss you too wherever I end up.”
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bibiopic · 2 months
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cw for more medical and animal death stuff under the cut about my pet but at least it's not super duper depressing this time (admittedly v dependent on your opinion of depressing)
after some back and forth with his vet + the care team at the hospital, we're pretty sure at this point of two things:
sweet likely passed away due to acute kidney failure. that's why he was so chipper and energetic in the days leading up to it, and why we had so little warning. apparently, kidney failure in rabbits can occur in hours. because they're just so freaking good at hiding it when they're ill, the only signs we had that something was off with him were that he was suddenly disinterested in his hay again, which is something we knew how to respond to due to the recurring GI stasis episodes he'd been having for about 7-8 months, and the day just before he had an accident on the couch.
that one kind of haunts me, because it literally never happens - sweet was like, perfect about peeing in his litterbox. so a part of me thinks i should've known something was going on when that happened. we were giving him a pain med, motility meds and simethicone at that point, on the recommendation of his doc. we thought we had it totally handled and his organs were shutting down.
secondly, the reason why his gut kept going into stasis was almost certainly something called rabbit megacolon syndrome. our vet was reluctant to diagnose that last year, because he wasn't really having the diarrhea that's most characteristic of it, but all of the other symptoms match up. he was struggling to process nutrients, and stressed from being sick over and over again. so his kidneys started to go.
he did not have a granuloma. it's unlikely that the diet we were feeding him caused an outgrowth of microbes. he was fully vaccinated against RHDV2, and his tests came back negative for parasites. plus, megacolon is genetic (either parent), so the fecal transfaunation his doc suggested like, the week before all of this happened might not have even helped very much to rebalance his gut flora, because recurring periods of GI stasis would've eventually caused another imbalance.
and, okay, i'm going to moralize for a second, because i'm a little mad, because my friend is dead and i love him very much. if there is anything at all that this horribly confusing experience has taught me, it's that for an animal so prized for their ease of utility in lab protocols, rabbits and the diseases that can affect them are NOT well enough researched.
if i'd known the above info sooner, i would've made different choices about how i'd spent our time together. we know now that sweet basically wasn't going to get better, but that's new. our vet gave us the strong impression that if we acted carefully and continued in a process-of-elimination strategy, we might eventually be able to heal him, and that wasn't ever going to happen. the shitty thing is, it wasn't his doc's fault for giving us hope, either! she was working off of the knowledge that she had about the disease states and conditions that are known to affect rabbits. it's just upsetting to think about how we would've done it different.
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green-enby · 5 months
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(If you don't want to answer questions like this/don't feel like answering feel free to ignore this) How did you go about getting diagnosed as an adult? I live in the States and don't have insurance but I've never felt more understood or seen since I've been learning about autistic traits in undiagnosed adults. I feel like maybe there's not something wrong with me, that there's an explanation on why I am the way I am finally. There are so many things that make me feel this way and I don't want to make this too long but I would like to talk to a professional but lmao no insurance and I live in an extremely rural area as an afab adult I'm so scared of not even being taken seriously in my area. From what I've found I think my best case of action would be to apply for Medicaid and if I get approved look up who's covered in the area. If you don't mind me asking how did you approach your physician about your diagnosis and how did pricing go? (I understand that this is personal and if you don't feel comfortable that's completely valid.) Thank you.
Hello! I apologize in advance as our situations are probably not entirely comparable, since I live in Italy where healthcare is generally free. But the first clinic I went to was private and quite expensive, so I guess not entirely different. I'll try to help as much as I can, be aware this will be long!
So, the first time I got tested, I was actually 17, and I didn't have to bring it up to any doctor because it was my therapist who suggested I get tested (she saw me stimming all the time and knew about all my social difficulties etecera, plus she said it would explain my depression and anxiety at the time). She went through a list of traits with me, saw that I related to quite a few, and gave me the contacts to this private clinic specialized in autism, so it was different from asking a general practitioner to screen me, which I assume isn't something they can do at all—I'm guessing that's not what you mean by "approaching my physician about it"?
The only time I had to approach my GP about it was when I needed him to print me a ticket (not sure if I'm translating this correctly) in order to gain access to the second, public clinic's screening service this year (my parents had probably done the same to access the private one as well). Said ticket costs between 12 and 20€ and we also get the money back. (Not trying to brag about my luck on you sorry, it's just for information!).
More relevant to your question: the private clinic's cost was 350€ in total.
The way I asked my GP to print me the ticket was, quite simply, asking him for a ticket that said "psychiatric examination", didn't even mention what for until he asked me, then I just said I'm getting tested for autism, and he didn't ask any further questions. But I'm confident you don't have any obligation to go into detail with your GP as to why you want to get tested, beyond giving them a general idea so they can write down a random diagnosis on the ticket. That's how it works here at least.
The harder part was definitely when I went to the second clinic and asked the first doctor I saw if they did screening on adults. It was nerve-wracking so I get where you're coming from. I was also afraid they wouldn't take me seriously because that's the vibe I got from the first clinic; I had basically only seen young cis boys in there.
Sadly that's a real and valid concern you have, but what you wrote about how you're feeling since you've explored this possibility really really resonates with me. That's exactly how it feels! I think it's worth it to get tested IF you can squeeze those expenses in somehow; it can completely change your self-perception—as you're getting a taste of right now—and yes, sometimes we need confirmation to boost our self-esteem! It's an investment imo, in terms of feeling at peace with ourselves.
I'm not sure how Medicaid works but I hope if you decide to go down that path it'll work out for you.
One thing I suggest to ease off your worries that you won't get taken seriously is to make a list of all the autistic traits you have, and take it to the doctor. Also, I've heard horror stories about this (people being dismissed because of this one thing) so I suggest to avoid eye contact like the plague! It might seem deceiving but I did it just to be safe (plus it was really comfortable).
Also if you haven't taken them already, three of the tests they gave me can be found online in the same exact form: the RAADS-R, the AQ, and the EQ.
https://embrace-autism.com/raads-r/ (let me know if you can't figure out the autistic averages on this one, they're more relevant than the thresholds alone)
https://embrace-autism.com/autism-spectrum-quotient/
https://embrace-autism.com/empathy-quotient/ (tested negative for this one fyi)
It can be an ulterior confidence boost to already get an idea of how you could test in a clinical setting.
I admit I had luck eventually, but I truly believe you can get lucky too and find someone who will listen to you.
Lastly if it can better answer your question: during the first appointment, they knew I was there to get tested so they asked me lots of general questions to get a feel of me, and then some more specific questions for certain autistic traits like social difficulties, stimming, routines etcetera, and then I read my list of traits to them. (After that, they gave me lots of paper tests to fill in). So I didn't properly have to *approach* them about it before the appointment started. They didn't ask me before to justify my wish to get tested, if that's what you're worried about. They simply tested me :) [smiley]
I feel like I went off on a tangent here, hopefully this answered some of your questions? I appreciate you asking so nicely by the way, I hope I could be of some help. Feel free to tell me if something wasn't clear, or to keep me updated! Good luck with everything!
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latibulesanctuary · 6 months
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The Tale of Losing Myself Part I
This year is both a blessing and a nightmare at the same time.
I passed an ultimate exam that gave me additional letters to my name. Then I was ranked high in a promotion. These events gave a major improvement in my reputation and my career track advanced quick.
But one of laws of the universe was put into motion: To get what you desire, you need to give away something.
My dad was diagnosed with cancer and the treatment was too expensive. The costs were triple my salary and he's over sixty (I call his generation the Gen Z Seniors) so he lives through pension. "
I was expecting people around me to be sympathetic. I was expecting: "you'll get through this" and "God will help your dad heal". But they were more surprised at the money we needed to rake for his treatment. My team leader was even joking about it, "God, that's why I am wishing not to get that kind of disease because treatment is too expensive!"
Things got even worse - the universe took my grandmother. I admit that she wasn't a pleasant woman while she was alive but losing the parent of my parent is still sad.
The news of her death made me look back at the days I had with her. She was my babysitter when I was in pre-school. I remember that she always bought me crackers instead of chips.
I also remember the bamboo woven bag she would always carry every time she came to our house. She never wore pants, always a flowery blouse and a long skirt. Her hair is always tied in a bun and she would only let her hair loose only when she takes a bath. She curses a lot and shouts a lot. But when she was sitting me then, I was always taken care of.
I didn't cry at her funeral. I was sad but I can't bring myself to shed tears. I felt that I only had to attend her funeral as an obligation.
I went to consult with a psychiatrist for answers. I took tests and had a couple of consultations. Told them what I felt. It's funny because I told the psychiatrist that I think I have Adult ADHD. She said, there's a possibility but my situation is leaning more on depression.
I asked if I need some meds for either of the possible diagnosis, yes for ADHD and not necessary for depression. I told myself, "ugh, therapy. Ugh."
Then results came and my diagnosis: not ADHD but MDD. Major Depressive Disorder. It was recommended that I undergo therapy.
I was asked to sign some forms afterwards. The psychiatrist then asked, "do you want to continue with the therapy?"
"Well, uh," I stammered. "Can I just get a printed copy of my diagnosis?"
It was clear that my answer was "no". She tried to get me into the therapy program again, but I insisted on getting a print-out of my diagnosis.
She sighed and told me to wait while she gets the print-out. I waited for twenty minutes, then left.
It's November now. My life is summed up like this:
Got heartbroken/ghosted.
Passed the bar exam.
Dad got diagnosed with cancer.
Got into the promotion list.
Grandma died.
At this point, I don't know how to feel. If I feel happy for the positive things, I will feel guilty afterwards about my dad and my grandmother. If I feel sad about my dad and my grandmother, I'd have to tell myself, "At least you passed the bar and will be promoted".
I did tell the psychiatrist about this and she said that's why she strongly recommends therapy.
I told her I don't have enough money for the therapy sessions - which is a lie. I can afford them actually while I help with my dad's bills. Of course, with little sacrifices like eating in less expensive restaurants and taking the public transport instead of Grab or taxi.
I just don't want to.
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cryptidswitch · 7 months
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Personal Venting Post lol
So, I've got what I lovingly refer to as Alphabet Soup mental health. I've got the ODD, ADHD, Depression, and Anxiety (a light chance of Autism but so many of the symptoms also align with ADHD and I don't have money for a psychologist so she's a grey area). I don't know if you know this or not, but these are all co-morbid in the least great ways. My depression mostly manifests as fatigue and getting overwhelmed easily, which goes well with the spiraliing brain of the anxiety, which goes great with the overstimulation of ADHD. You see what I mean?
NOW
My boyfriend hasn't been officially diagnosed with anything (mostly because he's terrified of admitting there might be something actually wrong with himself and he's not the biggest fan of doctors) but we're pretty sure he's got depression as well. He also was raised in a much more traditional family than I was and his family are all republicans. He has been trained to be the big provider man and that he needs to be the best at everything and that he isn't allowed to talk about his feelings. I called it toxic masculinity once and he just rolled his eyes and muttered something about woke I didn't catch.
I came home tonight from work and he was hanging out playing games, which is good he needs to unwind sometimes and games help. Unfortunately, he seemed to me to be upset and/or have something wrong. I asked him about it a couple times and he insisted he was fine.
And I'm now left with the ever important question of is it my mental health that is making me convinced he's upset, or is his absolute terror of talking about his feelings meaning he's bottling up whatever may be going on. It's just frustrating that I have to ask that question in general but what also sucks is that it sends me into this spiral of "Well what if I did something wrong?" "What could be wrong that he doesn't want to talk about?" "Why doesn't he want to talk to me about what is wrong?" "Is there something wrong with me?"
And the answer to all of that is that while I have my alphabet soup working against me, he has his repressed feelings and his desire to not make me worry because he knows what my anxiety does to me. It just creates this weird bubble where I'm confused and self-conscious and worried, but it also won't get settled because he's too worried about making me confused and worried and self-conscious.
Idk just rambling but sometimes I just have those days where I feel like things would be so much easier without the alphabet soup, yet I have to remind myself that so much of what makes me me is the way I've grown with the alphabet soup and how I deal with it.
Bleh idk
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darlingkara · 8 months
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Nevermind the loose dirt. It's my 99 cent grocery store plant rescue that I am trying to save via better soil/re-potting and with bread ties, and my little tiny espresso. The stems were brown when I got it, but I don't think she is gonna make it. Taken a few days ago, but seemed like good photo for this post.
I woke up WAY too early. Again. I either stay awake for like 25 hours, and sleep 8, or the usual 16 hours and sleep about 4 hours. I have had 3 sleep lab tests done (albeit years and years ago) when I kept falling asleep. This was before I had this weird habit I have now. I slept normally back then. Diagnosis: Narcolepsy and non-24 hour sleep cycle (Circadian Rhythm Disorder?). I was a bit blown back, to be honest, especially by Narcolepsy. And guess what? The MD had to report it to the DMV, if I did not. If you have a driver's license, it is stated on it AND you have to be medicated while driving. The medicine was Dexedrine, or pretty much @mphetamine. Makes sense-- Can't be falling asleep while driving. I stayed awake, and my depression lifted. Any MD's reading this-- Please consider it for treatment resistant depression. I never felt hyper on it (I felt nothing, tbh) which would of course, lead me to being diagnosed with ADHD*.
So now, I am an unmedicated ADHD and sleep disorder gal of a mess, hahaha. But I am happy, or at least content. I think it has gotten better, or I have learned how to deal with it. I could not do now what I did in my unmedicated 20's-- Full time school, full time job and a kid. Nope. I have ZERO idea how I did it. The narcolepsy mostly went away. I WILL fall asleep at the theatre, so don't bother inviting me, especially in Plague Era that 99% of people refuse to admit still exists. And it is 50/50 in any dark situation, regardless of how well rested I am.
Luckily, I can now work when I want (other than 2 days a month), and do not have to drive. I do have to set an alarm for three days out of the week for class (it is used as a take a shower and get ready alert bc I keep waking up before it, lol), but luckily it isn't early. I LOVED driving, btw, and I loved cars. But as an American, what else are you supposed to do? Tangent, but... I would re-do SO much in the USA if given the chance. Like...Public transport and social housing. These are looked down upon in the US, which makes it seem SOOOOO odd to me now. Plus the whole gun thang. Sorry, but I will never change my mind. The 2nd Amendment was written for MUSKETS. We have drones now. If you feel the need to open carry a weapon of death to the grocery store, there is something wrong with you. Sorry, not sorry.
I am not exactly against hunting (if you do it for food, not sport). When I was about 12, we moved** to a mostly hillbilly area (not making fun of them-- I mostly like them dern hillbillies, and one of my BF'S was one since I was TWELVE... Though I have not been able to find her since 2021 or early 2022. Covid or went Trump, I do not know. I will continue my search. Her having the most generic name in the English speaking world does not help)). And well, my first look at hunting was not pretty. Dead deer legs, sticking out of truck beds. Like, everywhere. People told me this was normal. I literally vomited and remember thinking and saying, out loud at lunch, ''The fuck, this is NOT normal. Throw a TARP over it, for Christ's sake.''
*Btw, girls and women are SO good at hiding ADHD. We are typically not hyper or rowdy. If we are, it is within our safe spaces, with friends. If your sister/mom/gf/wife tends to forget things you have told her, seems unorganized or stressed over little things, gets bitchy before leaving the house with you, look into it first and do not get upset.
**I was not an Army Brat, but my family did move a lot (6 times, to different states), and it was not because of financial instability. Yes, my parents worked for the government, but not in any military way. So--I learned a new term-- TCK-- Third Culture Kid (also applies to adults). We are GREAT at fitting in anywhere, more empathetic, less racist (bc sometimes, even being white, people are racist if you are the minority. Trust me, I know personally, and it was horrible), tend to attend university more (not saying all should).. But of course there is a catch.
We probably have attachment disorders on all sides. I didn't get the overly attachment type, luckily. If anything, I need help attaching. And I do not have ''the itch'' to move. As an adult, I rented the perfect house for me and my minion at the time. Great school district, fenced in (by chicken wire on one side for most of the time) backyard, walkable to the downtown area in 3 mins, and I was allowed to plant a garden and paint, etc. I did have to mow the effing backyard when my weirdo neighbor went away every summer. Fucker never told me when he was leaving, but the grass length did. I lined the fences with gladiolas and ivy and had a gas BBQ and a nice table and umbrella. I would let my kitties out every now and then, but only when I was there-- they could escape if they wanted to. One was a serial killer, not even kidding. A Persian, fluffy, serial killer. I got minion*** a slip and slide, hahahaha... We threw some pretty good backyard parties. All of my neighbors were snobs. Like Harvard asshole snobbery. Anyway, I lived there the longest-- almost 11 years. My landlord wanted to sell it, and it was sold within about a month and a half. THAT SUCKED and was not expected... Thought I had about 5 or 6 months.
I had to go live with my mother, as she lived in the school district minion was in. Worst decision of my life. I love my mother, and she was really a great mother, but something went CRAZY in 2002 and again in 2014, that I am not yet capable of discussing on a public forum. Thinking of substack. Like a $4 a month thing. This is shit that horribly affected my life, and I needed therapy for-- as an adult. Shit that when I think about, even 8 years later, I still tear up. And I am NOT a cryer. As a mother, she was awesome! She told me to avoid beauty magazines, taught me how to plumb and do home repair, said chose your religion when you are an adult if you want to, and sooooo much more. My father was really great, as well. They stayed married for FAR too long. I think I was about 25 when they got divorced, but it was over my mom being selfish with her health insurance and cutting my dad off. He had a disabling heart attack when he was 42, and died in 2007. My mom cutting off his health insurance was fucking brutal.
The dude was ALWAYS on my side. So, I still say hello from time to time to my mother. Most importantly, I talk to minion, but he is busy working and crushing on some girl, his best friend's girl. They work together and he hates his job. He is waiting for her to give the okay for them to both leave and work somewhere else. I said DO NOT WAIT FOR ANYONE--- EVER!!! He sent me a pic of her and said that sometimes she drinks too much and gets sexual. I was like OMG.
She looks like me and that is what I did when I was younger. Freud, are you out there? It's me, Kara.
And I have lived here the second longest.
And I want to die and be buried here. Every year, there is a free concert, ranging from classical music to rock music, held at the cemetery.
5-30K people can come listen to music, drink a bit, dance, and have fun. That the cemetery I would like to be buried in.
If that is morbid to you, you are not invited. :)
***Minion is now an adult. I am not worried about his financial future (everyone born after The Boomers got fucked, let's be honest)because luckily, I am a Black Sheep, and he will get my inheritance. Good for him! Since I am 34-99 years old (haha), I will not tell you how old he is. Yes, I was married and he was planned. I was TOO young-- but when your spouse made $80k a year in the early 2000s, you figure, nice, I will just raise minion, and then finish school. That did not happen the way I had it planned. The ex husband is still wealthy and lucky, and it pisses me off. If you knew the full story, you would understand. Let's just say that one brutal character mentioned in today's blog had a lot to do with it, including my parent's divorce. I swear it is not some Jerry Springer shit, and they did NOT bang, and luckily, my father and I were together when we found ''the letters''. The Brutal one would end up doing MUCH worse things than having feelings for her daughter's husband, and yeah-- it is personal.
Life is 50% unplannable. I do believe in luck, and I do believe in you get what you give, although I LOATHE woo woo pseudoscience bullshit.
I will NOT be camming tonight. My theatre thing begins tonight. It is only once a month. Last week, I couldn't have a schedule because I still have periods, which are very predictable, but this every 18 days shit is a bit new. Usually its every 25 days, abnormal is under 23 days in between periods. Went to the dr, had hormone levels taken. Good news-- I am NOT an alien. Bad news is that the tests prove pretty much nothing. I am having about 5 more periods a year than normal-- so about half the year. Great. Of course I now have to a dailytake high-ish dose iron supplements. I believe I have peri or pre-menopause which literally NO ONE talks about, yet it affects HALF of the population. And pre or peri-menopause is WORSE than menopause. Menopause is easy street, so I have learned. Some days I am nice and patient, other days I want to bite your face off. Sometimes I am horny, sometimes I seem asexual. When my roommate/ex bf of like 12 years (No, we do not bang and maybe once a month I fall asleep in his room watching a movie), DARES to shut MY room's window or turn off MY fan, especially if I am sleeping and wake up hot, I am literally thinking:
''I could kill you, and if half the jurors were women 35+, it would be an excusable homicide.'' I am not a violent person at all, btw, in any way or sense. I am learning as I go along. Surprise, surprise, there is not a whole lot of research on it. Reddit's Menopause has been a Godsend.
In the one racist area I lived in, I was ''jumped'' by 3 or 4 girls who basically PLAN attacked me, outta the blue. I won. All almost 5 feet of me. I learned about adrenaline and JFC, I get strong and mean if I think I am gonna die. I kicked dirt into their eyes and kicked their throats. How fucked up is that? I was maybe 11 years old. I did not and do not know how to fight. Is is something instinctual? I have no idea and too many research topics as it is. All I knew was that there were three of them, one of me, and they were larger and taller than I was.
Anyway, off to shower and go to my classes. Idk if I will cam after the theatre or not.
And you would not believe what I found when I took out the garbage, shortly after writing this (within the hour). It is not a popular name here, afaik. I will post it on Twitter @DarlingKara.
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keuraecray · 10 months
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Everything is too much today.
My cat hasn’t been eating which means she doesn’t hydrate well being she won’t drink from a bowl. She’s lethargic and nauseous. Vet ran blood work and other tests and $300 later, said she’s perfectly fine. She still looks just as awful. I feel like she is suffering and in pain but everyone tells me to wait it out and she’ll be fine. A fat cat who’s only pleasure is gorging on literally anything that will barely eat anything is clearly not okay. I feel deep remorse thinking about how little I could do for my last cat who I may have prematurely put down. I’m miserable every day over it. And now I can’t afford to do anything but the bare minimum. I know something is deeply wrong and that she has some type of heart issues but I can’t afford anything and it makes me miserable.
I’ve been sick for years with no known cause and my sister I live with has had her own pile of issues that aren’t as straightforward and mess with her mental state. To my family its a strange mystery. To me it’s an insufferable thought always on my mind. I feel like I know the exact root cause.
I firmly believe we have a hidden mold issue causing all our health problems but everyone tells us off saying it’s not possible. My health issues started years ago and we’ve moved multiple times. But people never consider that they could be living in it themselves.
All of my health issues started when I was living in my aunts basement while I was figuring out housing (which is frequently flooded when there’s heavy rain). I was waking up at night gaping for air and went to my original family doctor who said I had anxiety and slapped some meds on me. That was my first apnea. I don’t have them severe enough to be diagnosed with sleep apnea but it is unmistakable.
I’ve always had some level of gut issues but I had always associated it with stress and nerves being things were oh so peachy as a kid. As you get older and the gut issues worsen with or without that original cause, you realize something else is up.
Fast forward to nearing the end of the pandemic. I started having severe brain fog. After countless specialist visits and meeting multiple deductibles, since getting in to specialists takes forever, I was left with no answers. We all chalked it up to long covid since I had at least one confirmed case.
The brain fog had gotten so bad while I was at work I literally felt like I had dementia. Couldn’t remember conversations I’d had with coworkers. They were starting to talk to me about it being an issue with my quality of work but they already had unreasonable expectations to begin with so I just found ways to get around it. I was miserable there and they knew it so I lost my job last month.
My coworker was studying Eastern Medicine and invited me to a student clinic where I had acupuncture at an affordable rate. I felt like I was getting better but as soon as we stopped it would all creep back up. My acupuncturist had asked me if I’d been exposed to mold. She lived through it and thought she saw the symptoms in me. I brushed it off like my family did, in part because I didn’t think it was possible and in part it was just purely denial.
I’ve looked into how to remediate on your own but can’t even afford the basic protective equipment necessary to avoid landing myself in a hospital for it. Don’t have health insurance and have been too depressed to try and apply for low/no cost insurance.
Then there’s the wildfires wrecking havoc on my lungs. There’s a gap the size of my pinky nail in my window of my bedroom so smoke gets in to the house on the bad air quality days. I stuffed a cloth and plastic bags in it with no relief. Ran our air exchange to try to filter what I could out. Filters were black with ash. I found scraps of plastic for sealing the windows in the winter months and have since taped off the window in the hopes that it will help but still feel awful on the bad days.
We have insurance that supposedly covers mold (whether its to replace belongings or to remediate I have no clue) but I’m paralyzed to do anything because we have no money or income even if insurance will help. I feel sicker and sicker each day. The only sleep I seem to get is when I pass out from exhaustion. Even before the health issues started causing me insomnia my cat wouldn’t let me sleep because she would get hangry between 4-8 am. We wound up saving an injured kitten since we didn’t want them euthanized being all the shelters are full. While my big fat cat has been sick he’s taken over in waking me on the few days I actually sleep decently.
Mold is naturally occurring and is present in every home at lower levels but I firmly believe everyone in my family has been living in stuff that’s beyond the point of “healthy”. Friends have their own families and no space so I really feel like I have nowhere else safe to live. I just can’t keep it together. I thought things were going so well when I started my last job despite the foggy brain but it seems like everything is going to hell rapidly in the last couple of months.
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