#(did not help that the ocd brain started braining on the way)

[unrestrainedbalderdash]

Think it's absolute bollocks that the baskets at the local ASDA are before gates where it then says "no entry" so you can't go back and get a basket if you forget

[underwhelmingalchemist]

I wonder a lot if I have OCD, but every time I try to learn more about it for extended periods of time, the compulsions kick into overdrive. Whether or not that gives me my answer is unknown, as I have yet to be able to sit down and learn about it without having to stop after ten minutes because it becomes unbearable.

[inthedarknessofnight]

Steve Harrington has OCD. There are days when he can barely hear his own thoughts. Days when he can't focus on anything else but whatever is triggering him. Days when he just wants to crawl out of his own skin.

No one around him gets it. Like, really gets it. He loves having everyone over at his place, loves filling the empty house with joy and laughter he never experienced as a child. But over and over again, he feels like he can't really be present in the moment. Because he gets stuck in a never-ending loop of mental checklists, pinpointing every single item that will need to be cleaned or put back in its place after they leave. Crumbs all over the couch. Henderson touching everything in his general vicinity with greasy, pizza-stained fingers. People walking straight into the house after swimming in the pool. Rug on the bathroom floor always wrinkled and askew. Tiny specs all over the kitchen that only he seems to notice. He knows they're little things. Unimportant, right? A little mess can't hurt you? He knows... He just wishes his brain would get it, too.

And it doesn't just impact him, either. His incessant bitching sets others around him on edge. That's probably the worst part of it all. Nancy used to get so annoyed with him whenever he'd ask her to not sit on his bed in her 'outside clothes'. He's pretty sure Robin hates cooking with him because of all the rules he has in the kitchen, but she usually just sighs and rolls her eyes. Dustin deliberately misunderstands his requests or, better yet, pretends he doesn't hear him at all.

Not Eddie, though. Because Eddie notices. The way Steve seems unfocused at times, like he's somewhere far away. The way his eyes tend to dart around the room. The way his posture changes when someone unknowingly does something that triggers him. He makes little mental notes of all the triggers and makes sure to remember them. So he starts taking off his shoes at the door, placing them on the rack. He cleans up after the kids, quickly wiping the kitchen counter and floor as Steve's busy walking everyone out of the house. He straightens the bathroom rugs. He wipes the floor after taking a shower at Steve's, so that there isn't a single droplet of water to be found anywhere outside the shower cabin. He changes his clothes before lounging around on Steve's bed. It takes Steve some time to notice everything Eddie's been doing to help out with his triggers.

It's a little after midnight, and Steve has finally managed to kick the little dipshits out of the house. He walks back into the kitchen where he is met with the sight of Eddie crouched down, a whisk broom and dustpan in hand. Something clicks then, stopping him in his tracks.

"Wait... How long have you been doing this?"

Eddie freezes then and glances up quickly, looking every bit like a deer caught in the headlights.

"Oh, sorry, it's just- I noticed the stuff on the kitchen floor makes you kinda uncomfortable, so I thought I'd help out a bit," Eddie says softly, like he's scared he's done something wrong. Steve feels something warm spread around in his chest, followed by a familiar burning sensation behind his eyes.

"And the rugs? Was that also you?" Steve's voice is shaking now. But he can no longer prevent it. He's about to have a full-on breakdown in front of Eddie Munson.

Of course, Eddie, the perceptive bastard that he is, has already picked up on what's about to happen. He quickly sets the tools aside and straightens up, taking a few strides towards Steve, ducking his head to catch Steve's downcast gaze. To make sure he's okay.

"Hey, Steve, look, I'm sorry. I didn't mean to upset you. I shouldn't have overstepped. I'm so sorry," says Eddie, gently placing his hands on Steve's shoulders to offer a reassuring touch. There are now silent tears rolling down Steve's cheeks, but he brings himself to meet Eddie's gaze nevertheless.

"No, no, Eddie, you didn't. It's just- How did you know?" Steve asks, somewhat hesitantly.

"Because," Eddie moves his hands up to cup Steve's face, looking at Steve like he's trying to see straight into his soul, "because I see you, Steve Harrington."

[chronicbeans]

Platonic Alastor x Maladaptive Daydreamer Reader

Hehe not me self-projecting again! Anyways, these are kinda based on my own experiences, but I'm trying to make them more generalized.

TW: Maladaptive daydreaming, escapism, dissociation, mentions of depression and anxiety, brief mentions of compulsive behavior/OCD, invasion of privacy, manipulation, peer pressure, yandere-ish behavior (I believe he defaults to those behaviors, no matter the type of relationship), mention of cannibalism (this is Alastor we're talking about...), Alastor is a shitty toxic friend in this

• He's absolutely fascinated by the way your mind works. Even before he knows what is going on, or begins to get close to you, he can tell you are an interesting person. The way you look so distant, like your mind is checked out and flying to far off places without you, is something he hasn't seen before. He wants to pick and prod at your brain to see what's going on.

• He doesn't want to do so the easy way, though. No. Instead, he wants to drag out this process for as long as possible, and make sure you twist and squirm all the while. He loves to make people uncomfortable, after all! That's his specialty, in his opinion, besides his radio show.

• He'll start off with introductions, of course, which is probably when he first got interested in you. That dreamy look isn't so easy to see from a distance, after all. The second he looked into your eyes while shaking your hand, though, it became obvious. How hadn't he seen it before? If he saw this look when he first entered, he would've talked to you first out of the crew at the Hazbin Hotel. Well, besides Charlie... But, that's just because she owns the place.

•The uncomfortable prodding starts in an instant. One of his first questions after getting your name is not "What made you want to come to the hotel?" or "What can you provide to help the hotel?" It's more like "How did you die?", "What are your major vices?", and "What sin have you committed to be brought to Hell?" He wants to test the waters. See what he can get away with without completely scaring you off. If you run away and avoid him, it'd be harder to learn what he wants, and make you uncomfortable while doing so.

• Regardless of whether or not you answer, you are probably a little put off from him. Not enough to completely avoid him, since you can see how some of those questions might help him help the hotel, but enough to be uncomfortable... Which, in his opinion, is perfect!

• He's great at hiding, so if you start noticing him mentioning things you thought were private, you really shouldn't be surprised. He can, quite literally, hide in the shadows at times. He quickly takes notes of your little habits, including ones you might be embarrassed about.

• He may watch you pacing around your room, mumbling to yourself as if you are playing pretend all alone. Or, maybe, he's hiding over your shoulder while you're writing down some elaborate storyline. Perhaps he's watching you in plain sight, seeing you make a bunch of odd facial expressions at seemingly nothing. He may not know why you do this, but he wants to. He would've suspected some sort of substance use, considering it's Hell. Lots of people do so. However, he's never seen you near anything that would cause such behavior. So, that's off his list, for now.

• So, step 2 of his plan begins! As his good ol' pals Husk and Niffty to try befriending you! Or, at the very least, get information from you that you aren't comfortable telling him. Then, have them report back to him with their findings. Of course, Husk seems agitated by the request, but obliges. Niffty seems more than happy to do as he asks, though. A happy worker is a good worker, so he has more hope in Niffty getting the big story than Husk.

• Surprisingly, though, he's proven wrong. The most Niffty got was your fashion sense, favorite types of stories, and that you are very "quiet". Yes, the fashion and types of stories were new to him... But what he seems important, the reason you act so oddly, isn't there. Husk, however, was able to get a lot more out of you, somehow.

• Husk mentions you talking to him, one night, after he saw you skipping oddly down the hall and pass the bar where he was cleaning the glasses before closing it for the night. You seemed extremely embarrassed to have been seen, mentioning that you thought he was asleep already. He then just, politely asked a few questions...? And got answers? How?

• Alastor immediately demands answers, only for Husk to reply "I don't know how to describe it like they did! Most I understood is that they daydream too much. Seems like it's a constant thing going on. They like to pace and prance while doing so, sometimes, but don't like getting caught."

• Now it begins to make more sense... the writing, the talks about stories with Niffty, the prancing and pacing... and most importantly, that dreamy, distant look you have. He can even see why you'd make odd expressions. You're reacting to your own thoughts... He doesn't understand it. He's never heard of anything like this before, especially during his time as a human, but he can tell one thing for certain: You must be his friend, now. Whether you like it or not.

• You are so different from everyone else he's met, you see, and he loves things that go against the norm. Now, while you may or may not be considered normal or not too different by others, you're different and abnormal to him. You somehow succeed in both being polite, smart, and funny to mess around with, while also barely being able to pay attention to the world around you. He's always thought that those two things were mutually exclusive. How can you learn when you can't stop being in your own head? How can someone be polite and not listen? The funny part, though... He can kind of see that. He finds surprising you be sneaking up behind you and tapping your shoulder funny every now and again. Nevertheless, you are going to be his friend.

• Soon enough, you notice his behavior changing, a bit. Less following you around, less vaguely threatening words, and more... quiet. It's eerie, coming from him. However, you also notice him trying to talk to you about stories and books he's heard and read. Even things he's heard during his human life, such as Creole folktales and other stories he's heard in New Orleans, Louisiana back in the 1920s-1930s. It's a bit like a completely different side to him you never expected to see, and never really wanted to, but you aren't really complaining. It's better than him deciding to terrorize you for fun and him asking invasive questions...

• A little more time passes and he decides to ask about small habits, disguising them as him just now noticing those habits, when he's probably noticed them while spying on you months prior. Nothing too extreme. Mostly just your expressions, how it seems like your attention is somewhere else... Nothing like your pacing, prancing, or acting. He wants to establish that he knows about these tiny little things, and now that you're more comfortable with him, you're much more likely to answer. That way, once he moves onto the bigger, more personal questions, you'll already have been eased into feeling comfortable with it.

• Eventually, you get to the point where you feel comfortable calling him a friend. He's already considered you one since that conversation with Husk, but it's a start. Now, he's gotten the lovely privilege of being able to know more about what's going on in that lovely little brain of yours... well, "little" brain is definitely an understatement. From how you describe your imagination, he'd be led to believe your mind must be as vast as the Library of Alexandria.

• Vast worlds, complicated plotlines, complex characters... you talk of odd tales you've created, all in your brain. Ones you've had in your mind for years, some you came up with on a whim, and others, still, that are still being developed. Stories that have been being created over the span of real life years, ones you started then dropped... All of which are being held in your head, with only a miniscule fraction of it being written onto paper. He's truly impressed, genuinely respecting your odd talent, as he sees it. You've perfected the craft of creativity, while he's perfected the art of talking to an audience. Even better, is that he got to learn whether or not his theory of you taking inspiration from stories you've heard was right. Which explains his sudden mentions of stories he's heard in life.

• Now... if only you'd let him tell some of your stories on his radio show! If you wouldn't like that, then he'd probably ask you to write something for his show. That way, it isn't as personal to you, and you wouldn't even need to be credited if you're embarrassed by it! He could just say a random listener sent it in, and he thought it'd be great to read, to show his appreciation for his adoring fans. The world simply must hear the greatness of your mind, dear, and he is not going to stop annoying politely asking you to write something until you do.

• Another thing he might try is to see if he can figure out why you partake in this little habit of yours. He's never heard of it, though he has asked some sinners and demons if they have. Be it Charlie, Angel Dust, some of the other overlords, or a friend of his we haven't seen or heard of, before. More modern sinners keep mentioning a thing called Maladaptive Daydreaming, describing it as a symptom of other mental health diagnoses... but that's the problem. That fits you, you've mentioned that you know of that and it fits you... but that's also just a symptom. Well, a few argue that it may be its own thing, but it is not an official diagnosis yet. So, for now, he wants to figure out why you do it.

• Is it depression? Anxiety? Do you really want to escape from something, and you're doing so by hopping into that little dream land of yours? Is it some sort of compulsion? You seem to not really be able to control it that well, after all, and others have mentioned links to OCD, as well as other disorders that can cause compulsions. Is it sheer, absolute, chronic boredom? Speak to him, dear! What is it? Do you even know? If not, he'll assume it's the boredom option... for now.

• He's obsessed with you, really. You're his friend, and he's very obsessive over them, in his own way. He is as far away from normal when it comes to showing real affection for others, which wouldn't be bad, if it weren't for the fact that a main part of it is him being absolutely suffocating when he's around. That, and he can be terrifying... He's the Radio Demon, after all! It's just worse for you than his other friends, though, because you are different. Being different is a really important thing for him, really, alongside being polite, smart, and funny. Not required, unlike the last three traits, but it makes you more likely to be his friend. You hit the lottery by achieving being all four, but it must be the worst lottery prize in the world.

• He holds the thought that you should just be friends with him. Now, you don't have to be... but, he'd prefer it. If you really want outside friends, sure! You just can't be friends with his other friends. He claims they'd "taint" you with how violent they can be. Plus, since he's friends with other cannibals, some of which do serve sinner and demon meat to others without telling them, he genuinely does worry about your safety and wellbeing if you met those specific friends of his. For your friends, he wants to meet them. He needs to in order to deem them worthy of being your friend, and to make sure it's not someone he knows and is friends with. You deserve perfection, and who knows perfection better than Alastor, yes? After all, he can see that you're perfect. That is more than enough evidence, dear.

• You're one of the few people who he doesn't mind having your attention not on him. Part of your charm, in his opinion, is your lack of attention. All he asks is that you tell him about a story of yours. What is going on in your head that's so important? Oh, a great war between this and that? A psychological horror? Cities beneath the sea? Tell him about it. He finds it fun! Especially if he can see any possible inspiration from events or other stories. He likes to hear your voice almost as much as he likes to hear his own, which you'll realize is more of a compliment than it might sound like, once you truly get to know him.

[shadebloopnik]

This is gonna sound SOOO off or smthn but

Was the Perfect Family Harmony planned to be a weapon against the Bergens?

Long post ahead bc brain is rotting

Ok so as we know, the Perfect Family Harmony is smthn that's so powerful that its capable of shattering diamonds. Not just that but its one of the only thing capable of doing so(according to Floyd it was the only thing but giving the benefit of the doubt)

So we know its strong, and we saw it blasting off Velvet and Veneer off their platforms when they performed it, and they weren't even the targets, they were blasted away by just the shockwave that came with using it.

"Its that powerful."

Ok, so its definitely powerful enough to be used as a weapon right? Yeah it was relatively safe enough to use in front of a crowd, else they wouldn't have tried to do it during a concert, but that could just be when those harmonizing aren't targeting anything.

If it could shatter diamonds, how easily could it break cages? What would it do if it was used to target a Bergen? A whole Kingdom of Bergens?

Lets also go back to that concert, to that time John was obsessed with them getting it right. They were in the Troll tree, in Bergentown, a place where any of them could die during Trollstice. The Bergens were a huge threat, something that trolls, at their size, couldn't fight back against normally so they had to run instead right?

But what if they COULD fight back? What if they had a weapon so powerful that it might finally be able to free them? To defeat the monsters that tortured their kind for centuries?

What if John Dory found a way to help make sure nothing would threaten his brothers' safety ever again?

Like, it'd make John Dory's obsession make SOOO MUCH MORE SENSE

Like yea he clearly has OCD and anxiety and some bossiness and that definitely added to it all, but imagine if it was more than that?

Look at him during that performance. He was in deep. He had a wild look in his eyes, a sort of deranged obsession to have everything be perfect no matter what. It wasn't healthy, it was scary, maybe even downright terrifying for his brothers who had to be subjected to it.

But you know what else he looked like?

Terrified

Man was scared out of his mind. His anxiety and stress levels were through the roof. He probably was one wrong tune away from hyperventilating.

What if it was bc it was so much more than the fans? What if he put the salvation of the entire troll-kind on his shoulders?

One wrong step meant they were nothing.

One wrong step meant disappointing the fans.

One wrong step meant letting down the kingdom.

One wrong step meant another troll getting eaten.

Thats why when they failed, John blew up. He took all of that self-hatred of failing to use that weapon to defeat the bergens and poured it all onto his brothers.

"I know we can reach the Perfect Family Harmony."

"What if we don't want to."

John Dory, blind to how and WHY his brothers didn't want to follow his lead, felt betrayed.

To him, all he's ever done was to ensure their safety, everything was for the greater good. He'd done everything he could, his goals slowly twisting him into a crazed obsession. To hear his brothers say they didn't want to help anymore might've struck a cord too much. If you'd noticed he actually looked really sad and hurt when they started bringing up how much they hated being in the band, but it slowly twisted to anger instead. Kind of in a like, "I tried doing everything for these shts and THIS is how they repay me???" way. He was so stressed and stuck in his own head with his failures that he just couldn't see what his brothers were trying to say.

So in a fit of impulsive rage, he left. To him it probably was like that rlly childish way of saying "Yea im leaving, good luck dealing with the Bergens while im goneee." You know? Like how kids runaway from home when they get angry or upset over every little thing but come back when they realize how stupid that was?

"Im not allowed to change."

And he DID come back. Who knows how long, but he did. Imagine how he must've felt seeing their empty pod in an empty tree, with the knowledge that he could've done something about it. The Perfect Family Harmony could've saved them. They could've used it to break the cage, to fight the Bergens. Hell, it could've been powerful enough to wipe out all the Bergens if they do so wished.

"Im the oldest, I have to be the leader."

He and his brothers were the only ones who'd ever gotten close to getting it right.

"Why do you think I moved into the middle of nowhere? So I didn't have to be in charge of anyone."

The village was counting on them. Counting on him. He let them down. He failed.

"Freeing the village Four little brothers is a lot of responsibility."

They could've gotten it. If only John did it right. If only John did it differently.

If only John Dory was Perfect

[maryland-officially]

I have OCD.

Once I find something that brings be comfort and joy, I encase myself in it. Comfort, joy, must have. Must keep. This helps. This will help.

I get obsessive, easily. This applies to many things.

It's not just when something is of comfort or joy. It's even more so when something resolves some - especially the majority - of a negative emotion surrounding something. This can be fear, depression, a queasy, uncomfortable feeling.... many things.

For example, I 'have OCD about germs.' A fear of germs was instilled in me by my second grade teacher. It was the perfect environment for an obsession + compulsion to develop.

The teacher had always made sure that we wiped our desks with Clorox wipes after every assignment. Multiple times per day, maybe per hour - it was in elementary school, so I can't say per period.

We had to use hand sanitizer every time that we touched something, before and after getting a worksheet, everytime that we'd leave our desks for something, when starting a new activity - more often than we'd wipe our desks.

Often when we did this, she'd talk about the importance of 'staying away from germs', and how even though we're wiping desks, we're still in 'so much danger', seeing as there's still the '0.01% of germs', since they always say 99.9% of germs die. (Learning that this is a lie and it is less than 99.9% of germs killed was not fun.)

Being wary of germs became normal, it was okay. I understood it - I feared the germs, which, that's normal for a child! I wasn't really that scared. It was just an underlying thought.

But, the thing is, this very same teacher, didn't believe in washing hands. She believed it was a waste of time, and said that there would be hand sanitizer outside of the bathrooms waiting for us to use, and that it was unnecessary to wash our hands - it 'took too long'.

This was abnormal. It was strange. It didn't make sense. Germs are bad. Hand sanitizer doesn't kill all of them. Hand sanitizer is just a gel, it doesn't clean off your hands. It's just a gel. It's a coating, really. Wash your hands. It's better. It's cleaner. They aren't washing their hands. Wash your hands more. They need to be clean. Clean. Clean. No germs. They aren't clean enough. They feel unclean. They need to be clean. You're using the same sink as they did to rinse off their hands -- what if they don't use soap? Or not enough of it? Wash them. Different sink. Grab a towel, don't touch the handle. It's unclean. There are germs. So many people touch that. Don't touch it. It's dangerous. People die from that, you know. Don't.

Needless to say I did not follow that rule - uhm, I in fact did washed my hands. This is an obsession. I obsessed over my hands being clean. ...I still do. I still don't trust tables, I still feel uncomfortable touching sink handles, I still wash my hands every time I get anywhere near a sink because just in case.

The compulsion, of course, was watching them.

The thing is, haha, this didn't help me. OCD isn't just this.

OCD makes you obsess so much it's harmful. My skin cracks because of it. My dermatologist said that I needed to use lotion after every time I washed my hands to re-hydrate them, because all the hand sanitizer - that I had started to bring with me, and use so much more often - and hand washing had dried them out so much.

...Sometimes I obsess over things that aren't like this. Things that bring me comfort.

Movies. TV shows. Grades. Friends.

It's like a hyperfixation or special interest, kind of. But less talked about, I guess.

When I say I obsess over my friends I mean that literally, by the way. If I seem like I'm distancing myself it's because I am. I get scared that I'll obsess.

It happens. It's not like, a yandere thing. It's not a 'crush'. It's more like when I get too close to a friend and they are too much of a comfort for me, my brain goes haywire and thinks 'comfort needed. happy needed. if person = comfort, then must surround myself with person.' I think my brain thinks it'll bring me more joy.

It doesn't.

It gets to a point where I value one person over my own life, I've had moments where I've ignored everything except for a person.

...but that's more extreme cases. please don't be worried, I'm in therapy now. I don't know. I'm sorry. I just feel like I have to say this.

[repulsiveliquidation]

When I’m with you, there is no one else because I get heaven to myself.

Leah Williamson x Reader blurb. If you recognize the lyric of the title, tell me! I was inspired when I heard the song come on on the plane and pulled my iPad out to write it!

It’s not formatted how i like because im doing this on my iPad and Apple is an asshole. Okay it is because my OCD cannot handle it.

“Leah?”

“Yes love?”

You walk into the room, plopping yourself on the couch beside Leah who was watching some film.

“Why do you love me?”

Leah is taken aback with this question, looking at you like you’ve got two heads.

“There are many reasons, my girl.”

“Yeah, what are they?”

Leah thinks for a second, pondering on the correct things she wants to say. There were your eyes. They were so radiant and enticing. There was your hair, so soft and it always smelled like roses. There was your skin, smooth and a canvas for her art and devotion to you. There were your lips, strawberry flavored and always gave the best kisses. There was your body, every curve and valley she had memorized and knew at the back of her hand. There was your smile, a smile that Leah would give her right leg to make sure you always could smile that way.

But there also was your brain, so smart yet so witty and stubborn sometimes. There was your heart, the kindest Leah ever did see; a heart willing to do their utmost best for its loved ones. There was your soul, old but gold. There was your personality, bubbly but shy, reserved yet still somehow outgoing. It also loved dogs more than you did Leah, she sometimes thought.

“Have you got time? We’re going to be here all afternoon,” Leah grins, taking your hand and pulling you to sit in her lap. You settle, legs thrown over her legs with your chest pressed to hers.

“I love your eyes. they’re so radiant and enticing, i could get lost in them; i do get lost in them.” As she says this she tilts your head to look at her, her blue eyes piercing into yours.

“I love your hair. It’s so soft and always smells so good, I love burying my face in it when we cuddle before bed, it somehow lulls me to sleep.” She drags her fingers through it, untangling a few little knots.

“I love your skin, it’s so smooth and supple. I love leaving marks all over so everyone knows you’ve got someone to come home to.” She caresses her palms down your arms, kissing your shoulder.

“I love your lips. You always have that strawberry chapstick on, it fucking drives me crazy when i can still taste it on my lips when we’ve stopped kissing.” She leans in for a kiss, pecking your lips softly. She smiles, muttering “See, strawberry.” You giggle, tucking your face in her neck softly mumbling for her to continue.

“I love your body,” she starts, hands grasping your hips and thumbs rubbing your waist. “I love every mark, scar, dip, fold, valley, crevice, all of it. You are the most beautiful woman I’ve had the privilege of laying my eyes on and i am so thankful that you love me the way you do.”

She keeps going, rubbing your back and smiling to herself softly when she feels her neck get a little wet.

“Then, we’ve got your smile. Oh hell, your smile can make any bad day go away. Seeing your toothy grin when you’re excited makes me ready to fight anyone that dares take it off your face.”

“Your brain’s next, so sarcastic but so fucking smart. You’re stubborn and it doesn’t help that I am too. But that brain has gotten me out of situations where I didn’t think i would ever survive. You’ve been with me through injury, loss, pain, rejection. I could not have handled all that if it weren’t for you.”

“Your heart is the kindest I have ever seen. You would give someone you knew for about 20 seconds the shirt off your back if they asked. But you love so hard and so raw that anyone that has ever experienced even a sliver would be so lucky. And i get to love it and have it love me all day every day so I must have won the love lottery.” You giggle wetly, snuggling into her lap more.

“Don’t stop please, Leah,” you whisper, pressing a soft kiss to her jaw.

She nods, “You’ve got an old soul, it’s old but gold and that’s the best kind. Compliments my youthful one.”

“You’ve got a special personality, so bubbly with the right people but shy until you get to know them. You’re reserved in serious situations but so outgoing when we’re alone or with friends and family. And the fact that you love dogs sometimes i feel more than me annoys me but seeing you with Bella always makes my heart clench, darling.”

“The way you love my family is what let me know that I wanted to marry you. You know how much it means to me and seeing you get along with them sealed the deal for me. Thank you for loving me for who I am, darling. It’s all I could have ever asked for.”

You both sit there together and just take in Leah’s words, you finally pull away, wiping away tears.

“You really mean all that you said?”

“Every word, my girl.”

“I love you, Leah. I don’t know what I’d do without you.”

“I love you too, baby. When I’m with you, there’s no one else in the world, because I’ve got heaven all to myself.”

[traumatizeddfox]

we seriously need to change the language when it comes to abuse. narc abuse does not exist. abusers can have mental disorders, triggers, or traumas but that does not mean people with the same disorder is abusive.

when i first realized i was abused i fell down the narcissistic abuse tiktok trail, i started to believe the only reason my ex was abusive was because he had NPD (he is diagnosed) but then after more of my own research, and conversations with people who are diagnosed with NPD, I realized that abusers are just abusers, and that a lot of people with this disorder are the ones being abused, ostracized from society and not taken serious.

The thing about abusers is they all share the same brain cell, which is why you can list off 10 things most abusers do and a lot of victims will relate. I get countless anons of victims telling me things their abusers did, and I can usually 8/10 times relate on some kind of level, because abusers, again literally only share one brain cell.

The issue with this is abuse has been almost synonymous with the word "narcissist". The amount of shit you see with "Narc abuse", when it's really just abuse. People making countless posts about "how to spot a narcissist, how to fix the narc", etc and I can guarantee you that not all of these abusers have NPD.

BUT we live in such a world of "what about me", so when people try to break the stigma of NPD, victims assume you're telling them they weren't abused. They mention x y z thing that their abuser did, they bring up their mother who maybe was one and maybe their abuser does have NPD, but then these same people want to scream about mental health awareness. They want to say that "Your disorder is not your story", or that everyone with a disorder deserves love, respect, therapy and help but once anyone with a disorder that isn't socially acceptable, it's as if these people turn a blind eye to anyone with a disorder that isn’t classified as worthy. No one is telling you to respect or love the piece of shit who abused you, hurt you, bullied you. Fuck that, but we HAVE to stop associating abuse with npd. if we want to make a change to mental health and the stigma, we need to do with all disorders.

People make these videos, blogs, books, posts, etc on narcissists like they arent...human. The stigma has turned anyone with cluster B personality disorders into something hideous, when really, most of these people are born this way, or deep rooted trauma. BUT when people hear this, they think its giving an excuse. No one is telling you that you have to love ur abuser who might be a narcissist, or that mental disorders = pass. No. Your abuser can have NPD, OCD, depression, etc and be a completely terrible person, and no one is giving them a pass. (Maybe some might but thats a completely different story.) but to just assume NPD = abuser and abuser = npd, is incredibly ableist, but people aren't ready for that one.

The way people talk about people with NPD like they are monsters, and ghouls waiting in the dark corners of the street, waiting to snatch their next victim (who they always describe as being an empath because these people think having empathy = being a good person, when most people aren't even empaths.) They like to romanticize their abuse as well. Talking about how narcissists spot victims who are so "kind, loving, wonderful, special." They try to make it this thing that it's not. Abusers do not abuse you because you are special. they abuse you because they are abusers. Your abuser is a piece of shit who deserves to die because they are an abuser. not because they have a disorder.

period.

[skyfallscotland]

I don’t know if this is weird, but I don’t have many friends and I am weird, admittedly so…yolo, but this is just a diary post really of all the things on my mind right now.

• The response on ink & mistletoe was really lovely and I’m especially grateful for it while I’m still having a rough time.

• I really wanted to write more this week because I wanted to finish off ink & mistletoe and Truth & Talon before Onyx Storm comes out, but I have a migraine again and I’ve just been so exhausted it’s not happening, which sucks.

• I did start a new book though—my first of 2025—Just For the Summer by Abby Jimenez. One of my resolutions for the new year is to read more actual books, so I’m off to a start at least. One thing that wigged me out though, it’s first person past-tense? What the fuck is that, why are we doing that? My brain does not like.

• Speaking of Onyx Storm, should I start posting my theories now as I write them, or just save it for one big post a few days before?

• I’m still incredibly bothered by not only the continuing trend of oh surprise another special edition with content not available to you! But also mostly the response from other people to it, mostly Americans, because no one else is saying “no one’s making you buy them all” or “having choices is a good thing” because uhh *checks notes* we don’t? We just pay twice the amount of money you do for made-in-a-sweatshop, falling apart crap with less features.

• Also, just as an aside so you all are ready, I’m fairly certain there’s a special edition of Iron Flame coming…probably with bonus content. Someone asked if she was going to do one because it just had plain edges and she replied with a winking face. I’m going to say in Feb/March, and with dragon edges to match OS & the original FW print run. Call me Cassandra, idk.

• My (undiagnosed, I guess) OCD is getting worse, so if anyone has any tips or tricks for that throw them my way because seeing a psychiatrist in this town is not only the price of a small car, but almost impossible. Everyone’s books are closed, because we’re all a fucking mess apparently idk. They did say they had someone who might find me and my eclectic collection of mental illnesses “interesting” though, so I at least get to send my referral through 🙃

• Lastly, I am once again calling for people to stop drowning. If you come to Australia, please understand how rips work. If you’re not a strong swimmer, don’t swim anywhere there aren’t lifeguards. You are not as safe as you think you are, I promise you. Almost every day there’s been another drowning death that’s been entirely preventable and it’s infuriating, half the time there are kids involved. Don’t put your kids at risk for fuck’s sake. View the below if you’re curious (or coming here). I wouldn’t blame you if you couldn’t spot them from front on, most people can’t unless they grew up on the beach, but again, if you can’t that’s why you shouldn’t swim anywhere help can’t get to you. 31 people drowned in four weeks is madness when there are over 600 patrolled beaches in this country. And people worry about the wildlife, good lord.

[rifualk]

On Mental Health and Cosmic Embarrassment

I don't usually make a post in the aftermath of one of my spirals, so I bet most people see some of the vent posts I make, and assume I am just off my meds or something. I am on them but I might not be on the right ones. This is a thing that happens to me sometimes. I have psychotic episodes, where it feels like the things I am saying are completely inconsequential and I genuinely believe no one cares what I'm saying or, worst of all, that it cannot scare anyone that cares about me. I get too tired to fight my intrusive thoughts and I just ride them out. Most of my thoughts are not ones I enjoy having. I have trouble parsing what is real sometimes. For most of my life, out of a kind of primal shame and terror of being perceived or judged, I beat myself into believing that I just roleplayed as a crazy person online because I wanted attention for it, but it finally clicked for me at some point in my 20s that I was, and am, genuinely very mentally ill, maybe in ways that make me not-entirely-functional in the culture I inhabit. Also, I want attention for it.

Life is very embarrassing. I think embarrassment, shame, et al. is probably the most cosmic feeling of them all, because being embarrassed, for me anyway, leads invariably to my OCD extrapolating the embarrassment, no matter how slight, into its natural extreme, becoming a full-blown existential meltdown and often manifesting in some self-punishment. Or a lot of self-punishment. Instead of saying "everyone wants attention, it's not a big deal", my brain will overwhelm me with shame and make me vow to be quieter about the whole thing next time. Good emotions are meant to be expressed, I tell myself, and Bad ones are not. I think it's very unhealthy for people to not express their negative emotions openly. Or maybe I'm psychotic. I mean, I am psychotic. But maybe right now, too.

Ultimately this feeling peaks with the realization - again - that I'm a eukaryote. I live on a spinning ball of stardust in the aftermath of what had to have been a colossal disaster and waste of time. But it happened, and so now there's a bunch of stuff floating around, and some of that stuff started moving for reasons I don't personally understand and the implications of which scare me. And the moving stuff that moved faster got to stay moving longer. And so a chain reaction escalated, and eventually there were very large moving things whose survival adaptations had evolved in such a way that they could conceptualize and communicate complex information about the world around them, but they were also able to conceptualize themselves. This gave them a lot of grief. They wanted very badly for there to be an answer to why they were able to do that. Surely it served some purpose. But we never found one, and here we are.

I don't have a god to turn to. I have tried - earnestly, sincerely, and desperately - to reach out; I never hear back. I don't want to be an atheist, it's heartbreaking. Honestly. I want someone to be up there, or out there. Knowing there isn't, is just... cruel. It's horrifying and it wrenches my heart. Look at us, look how much we're suffering, where the fuck did you go, what the fuck is your problem? Help us!

In spite of everything, I am still not sure what I believe.

Don't you ever just cry about the world? Like, broadly? Don't you ever just have to take off your glasses and wipe the brine from them because you caught a glimpse of what people, as a species, could be capable of? And I get angry at myself, too. What am I doing about it? What even can I do? I can barely hold down a job. I am barely an adult. I am often mired in this feeling. It permeates everything. I'm living in a tragedy - not just my own, but millions and millions of others'. This is a nightmare. It's a nightmare and I'm an embarrassment, and my brain doesn't work right, and I'm living in a terrible reality that is shared by everyone, and yet somehow equally isolating and alienating to all of us. Does it have to be that way? Aren't we all lonely?

When I am spiraling I really do think that the end is near, either for me, or for everyone, or for both. To be fair, my confidence about humanity's future is not promising even when I am at my most sane. But in this kind of emotional place, the stakes are too high for me to care that what I say might come off as upsetting. It is completely overwhelming. I see my life up to this point, and I see how long I've been alive and realize I'm very Not Normal and I look and sound different than everyone around me and I'm an embarrassment. It's embarrassing to exist. It's embarrassing to be transgender, too. It's really, really embarrassing to be mentally ill and fully aware of it all the time. It's shameful. I am ashamed of how my family likely sees me. How my peers see me. I'm just a walking disaster. I feel like this bars me from leading a happy life or finding some success in art - It doesn't seem like you're allowed to be quite this much of a problem and "get away with it", does it? There's a bit of social sanitizing at work there - you are only allowed to be a certain level of messed up and if you pass that you're sort of a pariah. I don't think I've ever done anything pariah-worthy, but I can only see things from the inside of my own head, and there's a lot of unwanted noise in here.

I painted this when I lived in Oregon. I don't know how. I could not do art like this again if asked.

I'm not in a good place, generally-speaking. It could be worse - and it was for a long time- but it's still just not great. The main reason is that I am very homesick. I grew attached to the Pacific Northwest in a way I've never really grown attached to any other place. It had a quality that exists nowhere else. It resonated with me immediately and I knew right away from the moment I first set foot there that it was my home. I grew to be a part of it, and it's the only place I felt I somewhat-belonged... I have been away from Oregon for 2 whole years as of next month. I feel like I'm a fish out of water, or a sapling in the wrong soil. I can't and won't say that the place I live currently is a bad place, but it isn't my place, and the disconnect has been maybe the nastiest shock to my system in all my life. Finding the place I loved, and living for over 12 years there, only to be wrenched away from it so suddenly, left a shock on me that I think has yet to surface in my work. I'm excited to see what form it takes when it does. Location is very important to my mental wellbeing, more than I think it is for most people. Maybe I am a plant. It's also very important for my art. I've struggled to find inspiration since I moved here. That said, I've had the very precious opportunity to just work on myself - on my transition, as well as my personal issues. I think I'm getting better, gradually, in some way. I have a job now, at least. So it's not entirely bad. I even grew sunflowers last summer.

Around this time I got banned from twitter, but I don't feel any shame about the reason why because I believe in my message. But it forced me to be a lot less active online for a long time. It also made me lose a lot of support. That's been something I've grappled with a lot these last 2 years - that people really don't like people like me, for reasons that are mostly not our fault. I will likely always be something of an outsider for being who I am now, but I was one before anyway. It's still worth it. I like the person I'm becoming. I feel like only recently did I allow myself to feel this self-love. I was too embarrassed of myself. It took a lot of patience and a lot of de-tangling my self-worth from a lot of trauma. So it's likely I would have needed to go through all of this regardless of where I was.

I still slip up. It's an uphill climb and it's slippery. I like to be transparent about these things. It's a relief - feeling like I need to hide things is my default state and it's lovely to just let go of stuff so I don't need to keep it in my head all the time. I have a lot of hangups still. I get discouraged about my art still - I fear I'll never build myself back up to where I was before, and that there will never be a time when I can really pay the bills with it. Or worse-still, that it just isn't special enough to last. That it isn't remarkable enough to survive after I'm gone. But I think a lot of people who make stuff feel that way, and it's not our fault. There's some relief in that. I'm happy to have even a few people that care about me and my work, and something I've been trying really hard to remember in recent years is to take time to appreciate them. I'm not actually alone. I have a lot of people that love me. I'm not an outsider. I'm very lucky to know the people I do, and I hold a deep regret for all the connections I've let go of because I was just too sick. Deep down I really do wish I could love everyone. I have no ill will towards anyone, not really.

I still don't know what I'm doing. I am just doing my best, I think. I'm really, really tired. I don't want to get any older. I'm scared of the passage of time. My memory is so bad, it feels like time is taken from me without me realizing. I am 33 years old. I do not have 33 years worth of memories. There are huge leaps. Gaps where suddenly I was just older and in more pain. Being adrift in time like this is horrific - one day I will blink, and the present moment may be completely forgotten. It can't go this fast. It just can't. Something has to be wrong. I don't want to die, I don't want to miss out on so much life or be unable to remember it. I don't want to find myself on my deathbed someday way sooner than I think and be unable to string together any kind of coherent thread from my memories. What is it all for? It has to mean something right? Why am I doing anything?

I think I finally understand that love is why. I don't know much more than that. Love is real, and it's the answer. If you find love, don't take it for granted, ever. No love is perfect. Take it with all its flaws. You don't have time to bargain with it. Love like you'll never love again, love like it's your last day alive, love like it will keep you alive forever, because it will. Every year closer to death you get, you will feel the regret of all the times you did not follow your heart. Life is short. I'm finding this out entirely too late. It goes by so fast, and what you have at the end are people and memories of being loved. To be loved is to live forever. It's the thing that connects us to everything else. It's the source and the answer to everything. It makes more sense the older I get. It used to sound cheesy, but I believe it with more sincerity every day.

I'll be okay, okay

I once promised someone that I would stop self-harming. They are no longer in my life, but I kept the promise anyway. There are no new scars on my arms, or bruises on my head or face. I'm keeping this promise for myself, now.

[awfullybigwardrobe44]

Let me tell you, God has a way of getting His way.

Tonight I found a series of heated and unkind messages I had sent to someone who was trying to help me. I was furious. ERP doesn’t make sense. It seems counterintuitive at best and like straight-up stupidity at worst. I am facing great danger! Why shouldn’t I solve the problem?

The first pic shows you where I was before I started ERP. I was dead-set on never doing it, because I thought it was ignoring problems that were going to send me to hell.

In July of 2024, I went through intense medication withdrawal, and I considered asking my parents to take me to the hospital because my OCD was so bad. I did probably 4 straight of compulsions, starting at about 7 am, after having done nearly an entire day’s worth of compulsions the day before. The morning that was so bad, I would write down something on my phone (I obsessively write down things on my phone to analyze thoughts and “reason” with myself), tell myself I was ok, set the phone down, and pick it up less than 10 seconds later to do more.

I was, in every sense of the word, hysterical.

And finally, I don’t know how it came about, but I told myself, “I don’t know. I don’t know if I’m saved.”

And I accepted it. Not that I’m not saved, but that I didn’t know. And that I wasn’t going to try to solve it anymore. And I sobbed in bed for about 30 minutes.

I decided, in an effort to NOT go to the hospital and regain some degree of sanity, that I would put off compulsions for one week. After a week, I would reexamine this problem and hopefully be able to function and get somewhere with it.

But soon thereafter, I decided to go full-throttle with the ERP. It was what everyone had been telling me to do. It was what everyone in my support group was telling me had healed them. They had found peace and rest and a better relationship with God through it for the first time in their lives.

And it was the one thing I hadn’t tried yet.

It’s been 6 months, and I haven’t looked back. Oh, I have failed in ERP many times. But I am fighting.

I can witness my thought patterns changing. It is so bizarre. I’m learning how fickle my brain is in terms of what will comfort and reassure me and what won’t. I’m learning that sometimes my brain is just PRIMED for doubt.

I’ve found rest I desperately needed. Not in perfect assurance of salvation, but in the decision to not figure it all out and to instead let God reveal it to me when He sees fit.

My mindset for ERP all along was that I’d do it to heal my brain so that after I’ve come to a better place mentally, God can finally send me an answer about whether or not I’m saved, and I’ll finally be able to receive it and understand.

For those curious, I have experienced a degree of assurance. It’s a weak one so far, but it’s this vague sense of “I don’t know—but I think that I might actually be ok.” And I got there without making sure every box was checked, every spiritual problem solved, and every doubt accounted for—something that was formerly impossible.

Something in me, most likely the OCD, still doubts it. I worry I’m being deceived or that I have an unwarranted sense of security/assurance. I pray God wont let me be deceived.

I can’t say that ERP has healed me yet (or, more realistically, that God has healed me through ERP).

But what I can say is this: I said I’d never do this, and yet here I am. I think God knew I’d never do it unless I was left with no other option.

And I think it might be working.

[ruthlesslistener]

Ngl something that really pisses me off about the way that Tumblr deals with mental health is the fact that there's this seeming disconnect between trying to be inclusive of mental/personality disorders without acknowledging the grotesque, uncomfortable nature of some of them (OCD intrusive thoughts, for example, esp. if they're POCD) and the fact that others are, in fact, the root cause for a lot of actual abuse

Like, I've been hearing a lot from my mom about how my dad is a narcissist and an abuser bc of it (she's only just now realizing how awful he is after starting therapy, and her therapist is who told her what I've been trying for years), but I'm uncomfortable talking about that because as soon as I rant on it on my own damn blog, people will jump at my throat to snarl at me about how narissistic abuse isn't real or w/ever. Hell, even hearing my mom TALK about her experiences in that light makes me feel nervous/uncomfortable bc I knew if she said that shit on here she'd get piled with hate asks for her not using the 'correct' language, even though she basically flat-out admitted that the only reason me or my siblings existed was through coercion/marital rape when she was drinking. That shit's been haunting me ever since she said it bc I genuinely did not know that it was that bad (though I should have, bc he used to be very phsyically abusive to us before my brother was born), but I knew if I said anything about my discomfort for it til now that people would get mad at me for calling my dad a narcissist, even though that is the root of his behavior and this is my own damn blog for posting these sorts of thoughts/musings. Like, cool! Here's my mom gushing to me about how grateful she is that I'm the reason she figured out she needed help, and I'm sitting here feeling some kind of fucked-up queasy fear-guilt bc she's using wording that would get her cancelled on tumblr even as it contextualizes 30+ years of abuse in a manner that is accurate, easily digestible, and assisting her in getting aid. That's not helpful. But the obsession with 'proper inclusive language' over 'respectful conduct' takes priority over actual help

I don't think all people with NPD are automatically abusers, because I know myself just how easy it is to be an abusive, manipulative asshole. It's really only bc I grew up detesting my father so much that I'm not a piece of shit, honestly. People should be judged based on how they treat the people around them, not how they actually feel or think about it. But at the same time, saying narcissistic abuse doesn't exist is just plain falsehood. No personality disorder is automatically abusive, but many of them are the source of very particular abuses, and claiming otherwise is not helpful to the people trying to be better than their brain, nor to the people who got harmed by those who never bothered to try

[changingplumbob]

Foster Household: Chapter 9, Part 2

CW: Mental Health Struggles - Guide to content warnings

Inside the clinic Carson waited and right on time Dr Hanks showed up.

Dr H: Hello Carson, you found the clinic all right?

Carson: Yeah, I didn’t realise they just converted a house

Dr H: Don’t want to ruin the landscape and many patients feel more comfortable visiting a place that doesn’t look too official. Ah, here he is

Out of one of the rooms came a sim who looked like they belonged on a beach more than in a clinic.

Carson: You sure he’s a good fit Dr Hanks?

Dr H: He is but I’ll let him introduce himself. I’ll see you again if we need to change your prescription okay? Look after yourself Carson

Carson: Thanks

Carson was led into one of the rooms and took a seat, feeling awkward already.

Chad: My name is Chad Harrison, you can call me Chad or C, either is good. My main focus is anxiety disorders

Carson: Disorders

Chad: Disorders are just how we classify them, it’s not a reflection on your character

Carson: I guess

Chad: I’ve coached many a kid through what you’re dealing with Carson, I can help

Carson: Can you make the intrusive thoughts stop

Chad: It’s not as simple a fix as that. It’s about retraining your brain so that when they come up you can deal with them in healthy ways

Carson: So I won’t have to always spend half my day cleaning

Chad: Not at all. It will take time though, your brain has been working one way for so long, it takes time to adjust your thinking but plenty of kids I’ve dealt with can reduce symptoms

Carson: That’d be a relief. Ever since I lost my asthma inhaler I’ve been compelled to clean everything

Chad: Did Dr Hanks explain what OCD is

Carson: Yeah kinda, well the symptoms. Like I’ll get bad thoughts like, I’m going to have an asthma attack and die or my parents will die and my brain thinks if I can just do something like keep my shoes lined up in the wardrobe I can prevent it

Chad: You got it. But talk therapy will be about helping you as a person as well as someone who has OCD

Carson: So we can discuss whatever

Chad: I generally like to start sessions with a bit of catch up talk to help relax you. What’s on your mind today

Carson: My mind? Well, a girl I guess

Chad: Is she your girlfriend

Carson: Well no, I just... I just think she’s really pretty and she’s... she’s been through some stuff but is still going you know

Chad: Are you wanting to tell her how you feel or are you happy admiring from afar

Carson: I don’t know how I feel. I mean I like her and would like to go on a date and hold hands and stuff but... I worry I’m not right

Chad: Because of the anxiety?

Carson: It’s not that, it’s not even the asthma which leaves me looking much rounder than I like. It’s...

Carson really hoped Chad would jump in with exactly what his thoughts were but nope. Guess it was up to him. Damn this was awkward, but it did seem easier to talk to someone that wasn’t his parents. And it would be cold day in hell before he discussed this topic with Reece.

Carson: It’s about woohoo

Chad: I see. Well you are almost 15, it’s very normal to be having those thoughts and acting on them solo or sometimes with a partner at that age

Carson: But see... I was talking to my best mate Onyx and... well I don’t have the same kind of woohoo thoughts they do

Chad: Everyone is an individual, it would strange if you had the exact same type as your friend. Can you tell me what bothers you about having different thoughts?

Carson: Well... Onyx, and my mates Darwin and William, when they... you know... they picture people. I don’t really picture anything, it’s just about like sensations and having an itch I need to scratch that feels good once it happens

Chad: Go on

Carson: And like I never look at anyone and think, oh it could be fun to have woohoo. Like even the girl I like, I’d love to kiss and cuddle and stuff but I don’t look at her and think, I want to woohoo her. What if my brain is just not mature, and will never mature

The counsellor was silent for a moment and Carson felt his anxiety raise. This was clearly a mistake. Chad would think he was a weirdo who didn't deserve help. He should leave.

Chad: Carson have you heard about the asexual spectrum

Carson: The what?

Chad: The asexual spectrum. Probably easier to start more basic, you know how gender is a spectrum?

Carson: Yeah, Onyx is genderfluid and their current pronouns are they/them

Chad: Attraction is also a spectrum

Carson: Yeah I know I’m bi. Mum hoped one of us kids would be pan like her but I feel like bi just fits me better

Chad: What isn’t often made clear to growing kids is that romantic attraction and woohoo attraction are different things, and they don’t have to match. Am I wrong to assume if you identify as bi you have wanted to date boys and girls

Carson: Yeah, especially pretty ones

Chad: Based on what you’ve been saying I think you may be biromantic but fall somewhere on the asexual spectrum, which is part of woohoo attraction

Carson: So I’m not just a wuss?

Chad: You’re not a wuss for not wanting to woohoo, there are plenty of reasons not to in any scenario. Anyone who forces you to woohoo or says you have to is in the wrong, you understand?

Carson: Yeah, I know about consent. But what is an asexual spectrum

Chad: Basically it’s for people who feel less woohoo attraction than the average person. There are some people who need an emotional connection before they’ll feel attracted to their partner in a woohoo way. The spectrum stretches from them all the way to people who never experience woohoo attraction. It doesn’t make you immature to not feel any woohoo attraction, there are many people who identify along the spectrum. As for wuss there are also variants for how touch averse a person is or isn't, and that comes from preference not cowardice

Carson: I’m just worried if I ask her on a date but I don’t want to woohoo I’m like... leading her on

Chad: You’re still young Carson, it’s possible the thought of woohoo hasn’t even crossed her mind. Don't feel like you need to grow up any faster than is comfortable. You said you like her right

Carson: Right

Chad: So there is nothing false in that. Don’t focus on what might happen in the far future, if you want to hold her hand now then you want to hold her hand now. Cross the other bridges when you come to them

Carson: I guess you’re right

Chad: Okay, you ready to start working on the OCD now

Carson: After that conversation it’s bound to be a breeze

Chad: *laughs* That’s the spirit

Previous ... Next

[sysmedsaresexist]

so this is an honest question because you seem to understand the ToSD really well, and this is something that has always confused us; is there a specific reason for the idea that identity integration can only be interupted by trauma and not a neurological or biological issue?

We ask because we have autism which has affected almost everything about our existence and functioning from how we process information and sensory input, to how we learn, and even how we experience emotions and more complex things like our self perception and gender.

It is confusing to us that all these other things, including identity and perception, can be changed by something biological/neurological, and thats generally accepted to be true but the idea that and extremely long and complex process that also depends on feedback from other people can't be?

We get specific trauma responses and symptoms but the whole "the only way for states not to integrate/integrate fully is trauma in one specific window" seems to make integration one of if not the only processes in the brain that can't be disrupted by neurology and that is confusing to us

This is a good and valid question.

And here's the truth.

We don't know that it's the only way.

However, that conversation is 100% completely separate from structural dissociation.

It's so important to remember that structural dissociation is specifically and solely focused on dissociation in response to trauma.

Nothing else. It can't be compared to anything else.

I'm genuinely not sure how to structure this post, so I'm going to talk about a couple different theories/ideas, in no particular order. Give it a chance and read to the end, where we talk about the flip side.

I think we need to first talk about trauma in relation to developmental and neurological disorders.

As a reminder, trauma is not an event, but a reaction to things around you.

For children with things like autism, ADHD, anxiety, OCD, they're not only at a higher risk of being abused and traumatized, but they're more easily traumatized by a wider range of things. They're the populations most prone to pathological dissociation.

Did you daydream a lot as a kid? Does MaDD kind of hit hard? Did teachers and parents get really mad at you for your dissociation?

I hate to tell you this, but there's a high chance you're traumatized.

And the thing with CPTSD, what is essentially a precursor to DID and (largely considered) to be a dissociative disorder, is that it can be so hard to pinpoint where and how it started. It's a lifetime of papercuts vs a car accident. Do you remember every little cut? The cause can seem invisible.

The leading cause of CPTSD is emotional neglect, something even the most well-intentioned parents can do without ever meaning to. It's called the invisible abuse for a reason.

And emotional neglect happens so much easier when your child has additional needs that are commonly missed and not diagnosed until adulthood, long after the crucial period where they needed the most help.

All that said, we need to talk again about how many of those disorders include dissociation already.

Not only is dissociation common, but things like autism are highly recognized to affect a person's sense of self, specifically in childhood, but now you're getting into "chicken and egg" conversations.

In my own opinion, I would think that if autism alone could result in dissociated identities, we would know that by now. I mean, look at BPD, we know what happens with trauma in childhood that doesn't result in DID. There's an incredible amount of discussion about whether certain cases of BPD are actually sister-versions of OSDD (think OSDD-1c, the less defined alters seen in 1a, plus the lack of amnesia seen in 1b).

All THAT said, we're talking about dissociation and trauma.

This doesn't touch on the way people define and interpret their personal experiences. It seems completely plausible that people could simply just be more in tune with aspects of themselves, and view life through a comfortable, happy lens of multiplicity.

The multiple self theory has been around as long as the ToSD.

And that discussion doesn't necessarily need to be separate from dissociation and trauma, but I think for some it just is.

In every sense of the word, it just... is.

It simply is that way for them.

I firmly believe these two concepts would be 100% separate and different (acknowledging that for some, these can and do overlap, but I'm talking about brain scan level differences)

Unfortunately, words are limited, and there's only one perfect word for both experiences.

"System".

I hope this was some food for thought. I encourage people to get involved in the conversation!

[ritsukaaoyagi]

Omg not to sound crazy but I’ve been doing really well and just keep getting better after like ~10 years of just not doing well at all. and maybe it’s so corny but the way that getting back into loveless really was the major ummm trigger for this change… like by getting more into a “fandom” space I started talking to new ppl online and that helped me to be a bit more confident and develop stronger friendships with new friends irl. and reconnecting with something that brought me so much joy as a teenager when I tried so hard to beat it out of my system omg WHY DID I WANT TO MAKE MYSELF MISERABLE??? and everything in loveless just makes so much more sense now and that helped me so much too UGHHH LIKE OMFG. also was forced to confront irrational thinking and it’s not just about the ocd brain with fandom like there is always something more going on beneath the surface and so resolving all that lifted such a heavy weight. I sometimes get too in my head about if it’s ok to love a manga this much but it makes me so happy and if I’m happy and functioning well in my day to day life then I don’t really have to stress over it. And yes on one hand it’s like did it have to be loveless that initiated my journey of self love but on the other hand like of course it was loveless

[usernamesarehard1]

I feel like we don't talk enough about Call's backstory. I mean, it was really tragic and set the stage for all of his emotional turmoil throughout the series.

He lives in a town where his dad is considered crazy/insane/etc, and so everyone assumes that Call is crazy too or that Alastair is causing some kind of harm to him.

Adults and children alike hate him solely because they don't understand him. He is literally physically and verbally attacked and beaten constantly by his classmates for being disabled and for being "weird", and the teachers do nothing about it. Like he actually canoncially experiences constant abuse

And then he gets home and he can't even really open up to his dad, the ONLY person in his life, because Alastair is so emotionally closed off due to his own traumas. And then he has to worry about Alastair instead of worrying about himself.

Like, Call was literally traumatized and thought that he was an awful person because everyone told him he was and physically punished him for his existence.

And I am in no way an expert on any psychological disorders but when I have read about the basics of certain ones, it would not surprise me if Call would be diagnosed with some of them irl. Like when I was researching "quiet bpd" at one point it sounded just like Call to me. He has no sense of person identity and tears himself down inside thinking he is a terrible person, while simultaneously going back and forth between putting his friends on a pedestal and distrusting them entirely. And we see in the books how he is very clingy to Aaron and Tamara, especially Aaron, and has to use them as a safety net for himself. And how he is just constantly terrified of abandonment, especially by Aaron and Tamara. And how he isolated himself so much and struggles to process or express his emotions.

And when I read a bit about ODD (oppositional defiance disorder) it sounded similar to Call. Like, Call does seem to have a distrust for and rejection of authority in the beginning of the series, which makes sense because the authority in his life (teachers, etc) only put him down for struggling. It isn't until he realizes Rufus has his best interests at heart (most of the time) that be begins to trust him, but he is still very wary of the other Masters and Assembly members. And from what I have read ODD tends to primarily affect children and becomes easier to move past as they get older so Call slowly becoming more trusting of authority over the course of the books makes sense.

(Sorry if I didn't explain those things well, it's very indepth in my brain but hard to put into words)

Obviously these two diagnoses are very broad spectrums but it would not surprise me if Call feel somewhere on them.

And then of course Call obviously has social anxiety and depression in the books. And it would not surprise me if he had some sort of PTSD going into the Magisterium based on his upbringing. And I have seen a few people say that his Evil Overlord List could be a sign of a specific type of OCD.

Like, Call was a KID. This was the only world he ever knew. In his most impressionable years he knew nothing but hate from people outside his family and very limited emotional support or connection inside his family.

Again, I'm no expert on any of these things. I just have basic info, but when I did learn immediately made me think of Call. Tbh I feel anxious about posting this because I'm terrified I have something wrong here or that i am misremembering something. I just wanted to share the connections my brain made.

I really wish the books had more about Call's friendship with Aaron and Tamara helping all of them to start heal through each other's comfort since none of them ever really had that emotional support prior to each other.

And tbh I'm kinda surprised Rufus didn't notice a lot of what was going on with Call. I really wish the books had delved into that more rather than having Rufus get mad at Call for his trauma responses.

Also, what happens when Call goes home during the summer (especially when Aaron wasn't there)? Was he attacked again? Was he verbally harassed again? Did he return to the Magisterium with bruises or anything? The books did say that he would often have injures from the attacks by his classmates (I remember them mentioning a black eye, split lip, and bandaged arm in one flashback).

I have just been thinking about it a lot recently.