#Also holy shit after the last piece took 90 hours this felt so fast to do T-T

[misano17]

what if you got shot in the head and also we were boys or non-binary and we kissed

[softcorehippos]

It’s The Thought That Counts

Pairing: Avengers x Muslim!Reader

Summary: Again, communication is key to a good relationship.

A/N: I want to do something for my muslim readers out there for my comeback, Ramadan Mubarak to my brothers and sisters, happy fasting to you all! (Also, I hope you don’t mind me doing something exclusive like this, I’m just in a celebratory mood and I hope you don’t take offense ❤️)

TW: Mentions of eating disorders

“Hey, Y/N, lunch is ready.” Sam peeked into your room.

You looked up from the stacks of paper on your study, mission reports that needed to be filed later that night.

“Oh, I’ll pass, thank you though.” You smiled before turning back to the papers in front of you.

“Huh, alright then.” Sam closed the door behind him gently before making his way to the dining room, where everybody was already seated.

“Y/N’s not joining us?” Natasha asked as she scooped a portion of braised quail.

Sam shook his head. “Nope, she’s doing her mission report.”

The conversation quickly shifted to whatever shit Clint and Tony got into that week and lunch was ended with a table full of sleepy Avengers, bellies full of tasty food, courtesy of the private chef Tony had graciously provided for the tower.

One by one, everybody retreated to their own space, either to sleep off the food or go do whatever it is that they do for leisure. Free times like these comes rarely for the Avengers, especially lately now that Nazis felt safer to rear their heads in public, causing unnecessary terror and havoc.

You deeply appreciated this day off; it was something that you look forward to so that you can fulfill your religious responsibility. The Holy month of Ramadan fell during that summer, which means the days are longer and the nights are short, which also means, you fast for a longer period of time. Being an Avenger demands you so much physically, which means you can’t carry out your fasting during missions and such, so this time off provided you the perfect chance to do exactly that.

Later that day, when the sun sets, you came out of your room and head straight to the kitchen for Iftar, to eat in order to break your fast. The kitchen was empty when you got there, you start by brewing a hot tea to get your stomach used to working again after an entire day of not consuming anything.

“Hey, didn’t see you all day.” Bucky’s voice caused you to jump, nearly knocking over the pot of hot water.

“Don’t do that!” You playfully smacked his shoulder.

He chuckled an apology. “You makin’ tea? Sweet! Can I have some too?”

You nodded. “Sure.”

“I haven’t seen you all day.” He repeated as he slid onto the kitchen island stool.

“Yeah, I was catching up with the reports. I like being productive, you see, unlike some people.” You gave Bucky a cheeky smile.

“Hey, watch it. I spent the entire day fixing that dump of a bike Steve got from the junkyard, I’m staaaaarving.” He whined.

“Well, join me for dinner? I’m just going to head to my room to pray for a bit.” You said, taking a sip of your tea.

“Sure, I’ll be here. Starving. And dying.”

You laughed and flipped him off before returning to your room for your prayer. The team knew about your religious routines and they were very supportive of it, Tony even went above and beyond by having FRIDAY remind you the day’s prayer times. Not even once did anyone from the team ever made it hard for you to conduct anything that relates to your religion, or tease you in any way, and for that you were eternally grateful.  

Not long after you started dinner with Bucky, Sam and Clint joined you, followed by Tony and Steve. During Ramadan, you don’t usually eat much since your stomach had adjusted to the changes in your daily intake, so even after fasting the entire day, you only eat a moderate amount food because your stomach filled quickly.

“Alright guys, I’m gonna head to bed, it’s been exhausting talking to you guys.” You sat up after setting aside your napkin.

“What? It’s only nine!” Tony raised both hands in disbelief.

“Yeah, well, I’m secretly 90 years old, so, I’m going to go to sleep now. Behave children.” You waved your pointer finger at the boys before retreating to your room.

Each morning, you woke up with the intention of following through with your fast, but sometimes in the middle of the day, you would get called for a mission and then you would have to break that fast in order to get the strength you need. So each morning, you woke up a few hours before dawn to eat suhoor, the meal before the fast.

Bleary eyed and barely awake, you dragged your half-asleep body to the kitchen to fix yourself a bowl of spaghetti and some cut up fruits. You found that the less you eat, the less hungry you get during the day, so you eat a portion enough to fill you up but not too much that you were full.

The tower was silent, so you made sure to make as little sound as you possibly could. Without your knowledge, a floor above you, Tony was still awake with his insomnia in full swing.

The schematics for a new repulsor were laid out in front of him and as he studied it, his right hand grabbed the mug sitting slightly to his right and brought it close to his face, only to realize that it was empty.

Tony groaned and he begrudgingly made his way to the kitchen to make more tea. To say that Tony was surprised to see you, eyes barely opened, sitting on the kitchen island with a bowl of spaghetti, was an understatement. The only thing stopping him from dropping his mug and shattering it into pieces was the thought of waking Pepper up and getting an earful about working overtime, again.

He stood silently by the kitchen entrance, with your back to him, watching you slowly eat the small portion of food you prepared for yourself. Tony felt the need to say something but he refrained from doing so, and slowly retreated back to his lab, thinking that if you were here alone at this hour, chances are you weren’t looking for company.

The next day, Natasha poked her head into your room around noon, asking you to come shopping with everybody. You agreed, simply because you were bored out of your mind sitting in your room and watching TV.

Natasha made you go to an artisanal candle shop where she spent almost a hundred dollars on scented candles and soaps, while Wanda practically dragged you to a more high-end shops where she could blow her birthday gift card Tony had generously given her the month before.

You ended up buying a few stuff as well.

Pepper and Maria made it a mission to go to a gallery to buy some art for their offices, and you made everybody groan when you decided to hit the bookstore, again.

“Oh. My. Gaaaaaaaaahd.” Wanda groaned. “I’m so exhausted.”

“Me too, who would’ve thought going shopping with guys tire me out this much.” Pepper replied with a chuckle.

“It could be the amount of bags you guys are carrying.” You retorted with a cheeky smile.

“Oh shut up, like yours aren’t just as many.” Maria glared playfully at you.

You laughed.

“I could go for a hamburger right now, whadaya say?” Maria asked the group, in which they agreed unanimously.

“I think I’m gonna pass, my arms are going to fall off and my feet are practically sleeping. I’ll just meet you back at the compound.” You smiled at their confused expressions.

“What, no. Come on.” Pepper said.

“No, no, really. I’ll just meet you back there.” You said with a smile before making your way back to the compound.  

You were so exhausted that day, you cleaned a full portion of spinach ravioli when it was time to break your fast.

“Hey, where’s Y/N?” Tony asked the morning after, everybody were sitting quietly around the dining table for breakfast.

“Dunno.” Natasha mumbled.

“She’s not joining us for breakfast?” Tony asked again.

“Dunno.” Natasha said again.

Tony made a grunting noise before sitting down, he had his thinking face on and Bucky noticed.

“Uh oh, that doesn’t look good.”

Tony flipped him off before tapping the table with his fingers. “I think there’s something going on with Y/N.”

Natasha paused mid chew and raised an eyebrow. “Huh?”

“There’s something wrong with Y/N, I think it’s been going on a while but I’m just beginning to notice it now.”

Bucky and Sam spun in their seat to face Tony with a look that said ‘go on.’

“Two nights ago, I was getting a refill for my tea and I found her sitting on the kitchen counter, eating a bowl of pasta.”

Wanda shrugged. “Well, it won’t be the first time that people eat at unreasonable hours, I got a midnight sandwich last night.”

“She was eating at three in the morning, Wan. She was barely awake.”

Sam made a humming noise. “Funny you should say that, because I haven’t seen her eat in like forever.”

Steve looked at him funny. “What do you mean? She was here–“

“Hah, see? When was the last time she joined us for a meal?” Sam asked Steve.

“I ate with her a few days ago, it was around 7 or 8.” Bucky answered.

“She bailed on us yesterday, during our shopping trip.” Natasha said with a sudden realization. “Yeah, we were having a shopping spree with all the girls and when Maria suggested burgers, she just decided to go home.”

“See, something’s wrong.” Tony said smugly. “Called it.”

“Okay calm down, if she’s really going through something, it’s not something to be glad about.” Bucky rolled his eyes.

The entire table went quiet as they thought about what could possibly be wrong, until Wanda stared at everybody with wide eyes.

“I… I think I know what it is.”

Everybody stared at her, before Steve gently nudged her elbow for her to proceed.

She took a shuddered breath before continuing. “Well, like you said, she doesn’t eat during the day, only when it’s dark out or there’s nobody there, eating at odd hours, and she’s been withdrawing lately, staying in her room all the time…” she paused, “it could be eating disorder.”

Sam leaned back against his seat with wide eyes, while Bucky just clenched his jaw.

“H-how sure are you?” Steve cleared his throat.

“Pretty sure, I mean, I can tell from experience.”

This time, it was Steve who stared at her with wide eyes.

“Oh I’m fine, it was a long time ago, I was young, insecure and had very bad body image issues. I’m fine now. I got help, which is something that she really needs right now.”

Tony nodded. “Yes, yes, I agree. What do we need to do?”

Sharp pains in your stomach woke you up from your nap, you glanced to the clock and groaned, there were still five more hours left of fasting until you can eat. It wasn’t a good day for you, somehow you managed to eat too much during suhoor and woke up immediately feeling starved, then you tried to sleep the hunger off but it didn’t work, so you decided to go out and do something to distract you from your growling abdomen.

You wrapped yourself with your blanket like a cocoon before making your way to the common room, but you stopped dead in your tracks when you found everyone sitting in circle, speaking in hushed voice.

“Well, this is not cool, why wasn’t I invited to this family gathering?” You plopped yourself onto the couch, blanket intact.

Tony was the first to jump to his feet, clearing his throat and acting like he wasn’t just whispering about you the minute before.

“Heya, where have you been?”

The group soon spread out around the living room, but you noticed that none of them actually left.

“Uh, I took a nap.” You eyed everyone warily. “What’s going on?”

Tony shot a look at Wanda and she stepped up, before kneeling onto the carpet. “We, uh, we have something we’d like to discuss with you. Are you up for it?” She said with gentle eyes.

“Yeaaaah? What is this about?” You started to get uncomfortable with everybody staring at you, so you pulled the blankets closer together.

“I just want to let you know, that, even though we have no idea what we’re doing, we’re here for you, every step of the way, don’t you ever think that we’re going to let you go through this alone.” Tony sat next to you, grabbing your hands and squeezing them tightly.

“It’s my fault really.” Your attention turned to Natasha, who was sporting a permanent scowl on her face. “We’re best friends, how I can miss something this big would always be one of my biggest regret.”

“Guys, please, you’re scaring me.” You said with worry, they were all talking but none of them seemed to be talking about what the fuck was wrong.

“Scaring you? What about us?” Bucky snapped as he stood up, you flinched back at his sudden movement. “God! Y/N, you’re–“ he sighed, “you’re beautiful as you are, why are you doing this to yourself?”

“Okay guys, come on, this wasn’t the plan.” Wanda turned around and glared at everyone before turning her attention back to you. “Y/N, we, uh, we’ve noticed lately that you’ve been withdrawing yourself and we’re really worried about you.”

She pulled what you thought were pamphlets and set them gently on your lap. “What ever you need, we’re going to be here, right here.”

Your eyebrows knitted together when you saw what was on the pamphlets. “Guys, what is this?” You held up the one with bright blue lettering that said EATING DISORDER in large fonts.

“It’s just something we gathered up for you.” Steve took his turn to talk. “There are great facilities that you can visit, we already spoke with some of the experts in rehabilitation and–“

“No, no,” you shook your head, cutting Steve off, “what’s this all about? You think I have an eating disorder?”

Wanda took your hand and squeezed them. “I know it’s not something easy to admit, but we’re not judging, we’re just really worried about you, Y/N.”

“Wh–Why would you think that?”

“It’s pretty obvious, part of why I’m fucking furious that I didn’t realize this sooner. You skip on meals, you practically don’t eat anymore and when you do, it’s at three in the fucking morning when nobody’s awake.” Sam muttered angrily, mostly at himself.

You were stunned.

You stayed quiet as you processed everything and you couldn’t help but to start laughing.

“I’m sorry.” You tried covering your mouth to stop the laughing but you couldn’t.  “I’m so sorry. Guys, I know you meant well, but really, this is all just a misunderstanding.”

“You don’t have to do this, Y/N, we understand, it’s not easy–“

“No, no, I mean it, you got this all wrong. I don’t have an eating disorder, okay? I’m fasting.” You smiled fondly at the group of disheveled and broken people around you.

“Fasting.” Tony deadpanned.

“Yeah, you know? The Holy month of Ramadan?”

“Ramadan.” Sam echoed.

“Yeah.” You nodded, feeling a cramp on your face for smiling so much.

“B-but, why didn’t you just say something?”

You shrugged. “I didn’t think that it was worth mentioning? You guys always let me be when it comes to my religious duties so I didn’t see this one as an exception?”

The entire room stared at you like you’ve grown to heads before Natasha breaking the silence with a yell.

“What the fuck!” She threw her hands up in the air and spun around to leave.

You didn’t take offence at it, in fact, you were grinning even wider.

“Oh, well, in that case I guess we should­–uh, we should–“ Tony stammered to the group before you pulled him into a hug.

“I’m very touched at the gesture, though, it’s really nice of you guys to look out for me like that.” You mumbled into his shirt.

“Yeah, well, you’re family, so, it comes with the job.” Steve said, a smile was beginning to form as he shook the tension off his shoulder.

��I, for one, am really glad that I was wrong.” Wanda pulled you away from Tony’s arms and into a bear hug.

“What about you, Buck? You still think I’m beautiful this way?” You teased the former soldier until his was bright red and stalked out of the room.

“Oh come on! Don’t be like that! Tell me I’m beautiful!” You shouted as Bucky kept on walking. “Bucky!”

@brittanymcsharry @avengerofyourheart @totheendofthelinepal @cassiopeiassky @beccaanne814-blog @buckyywiththegoodhair @whothehellisbella @bovaria @isaxhorror @marvelatmytrash @hellomissmabel @imsecretlyromanburki  @omalleysgirl22 @dracsgirl @pixierox101 @stovehairington @tardistrash @amrita31199 @nathalieruaudel @viollettes @tatortot2701 @thatgirlsar @palaiasaurus64 @cojootromuelle @lilasiannerd @shifutheshihtzu @17marvelousfreak @cassandras-musings @queen--valeskaxx @barnesandnoble13 @pcterpvrker @fandomlover2001 @bunchofandoms @seeyainanotherlifebrotha @jenniegs @lovingyoutadstrange @ailynalonso15 @instantstudentnachosworld @mizthink @anyakinamidala @dressedbutwellstressed @srgtjamesbarnes107 @poopybadwi

[offansandflames]

So this month is apparently my month. May is both Medical Health Awareness Month and Brain Tumor Awareness Month.

Look everyone, I’ve made a thing!

To be honest, I hesitated before posting this, especially since I’m getting to know people much better. I had some shit to deal with, and I was pretty graceless about it at points. I only hope that my sharing this both encourages understanding for people who’ve gone down my path and also brings you all some happiness. Seriously it breaks my heart to hear what some of my loved ones are going through, and I want them to know that even if your world feels like it’s ending, there’s hope.

I thought I had everything planned out at the age of 15. I was going to go to Stanford and become a pediatrician, my life calling. Through high school, I worked roughly 90 hours a week, between school, homework, and my extracurriculars (co-captain of the tennis team, swim, cross-country, National Honors Society, weekly volunteer work at the hospital, and Amnesty International). I even made it on the news, with the title “Future Doctor” under my name. I had a 4.7 GPA and the burning passion of a million suns.

I was literally EN FUEGO. But

Headaches. Horrible headaches. I gained 30 pounds (that’s 14 kg) in a single month, while eating very healthily and exercising vigorously. Then deep as hell depression. And daily hallucinations. I literally felt like I was losing my mind. My blood chemistry levels were swinging around like they were on crack, but no one could figure out what was going on.

My mom (dad was gone) told me I was being melodramatic and looked fat and disgusting as hell. She’d roll her eyes when I’d react to my hallucinations. I went to doctors who reassured me “Puberty is difficult for everyone.”

At the very least, she continued to send me to hospitals throughout the Los Angeles area. Finally, they decide to scan my head to “rule it out.” I lay there with a cage on my face and was serenaded for 40 minutes by what sounded like the mating call of a dozen fax machines.

ADVENTURE TIME ! ! !

I was called back into the hospital (UCLA) in a matter of days, which is strange on account of the fact that most people have to wait months. When I see my doctor there, suddenly a neurosurgeon walks into the room. “Okay, that’s weird.”

He slaps an image of my brain up on the wall, points to it, and says, “You’ve got something there.”

He said it kinda like he was telling me I had spinach in my team.

“What?”

“A brain tumor.”

For a few months, peoples’ attitudes changed. My mom told me about a dozen times a day that I was going to be okay. I think she was reassuring herself more than me. I was a little worried, but more than that, I was happy. It was proof that I wasn’t crazy. And most importantly, there was something in my brain that could be removed. I could actually be normal again! No one understood how much I’d been suffering all along.

By the way, the niceness lasted for a few months. Went away after that, then back into the abuse.

I’m going to take a minute out and say something. I’m sure tons of people reading this have gone through hard times, especially around that age, and were not taken seriously. Listen, I had a fucking brain tumor and was still dismissed. I took it personally and felt like a piece of crap, though now I look back and see how wrong it was. I’m really sorry for those of you in a similar situation. All I can do is advise you not to let that guilt you into thinking your struggles are inconsequential, though I did a shit job of that myself. I love you all.

-ahem- Back into it then…

The physical pain stayed constant, but the psychological issues exploded. I always remember that I’d be standing in a room, then everything in my field of vision became neon. The room would stretch out for what seemed like miles, and my ears would ring so loudly it hurt. Then random shit (looked like humanoid figures) would come out at me. Terrifying.

My mom again insisted I was being dramatic. It was a house of cards, and as it was bound to, it fell. I injured myself pretty badly and was sent to a psych ward (at UCLA) for a week. I was still holding on to that dream of becoming a pediatrician, but in all honesty, I didn’t know if I’d be alive that far into the future.

No one close in my life was supportive. They viewed this as me just being “dramatic.” They diagnosed me with Bipolar Disorder in the ward.

My psych state continued to deteriorate to the point that I lost touch with reality. The depression was as crushing as death, and I saw no reason why anyone would want to live. Life was just a pointless dream. I took a bunch of pills one night and was rushed to the hospital by ambulance. I was in a coma for about 3 days and nearly died.

I woke up in the Intensive Care Unit, confused as to how I’d gotten there (I had no memory) but also not really caring. My family was screaming at me about how close I’d come to death, but the most they’d get out of me was a shrug. They sent me back to the UCLA psych ward, and literally, I was sent back to the very same room.

I don’t know how, but through all of that shit, I kept my grades up. I still had a 4.7 GPA when I got out of high school. I scored a free ride to UCLA, the same place where I’d found out about my brain tumor, and the place where I’d been kept in a psych ward twice. Crazy. Meanwhile, the tumor grew and bled into my surrounding brain tissue.

But the depression just kept getting worse, and so did the hypomania that accompanies Bipolar. I kept having blank periods and would wake up in the ICU, again with screaming and crying family members. I didn’t want to die anymore, so I was very upset by this. I wouldn’t even remember trying to take my life, so it literally felt like I just went to bed and woke up in the hospital. That happened at least three times, maybe more.

I got into the drugs (literally the worst ones) and became addicted to them. Bipolar is tricky, and my mood would swing. At some points, I was so depressed and disillusioned. I would often say, “I’m not making it to my 30’s.” I accepted that as a fact. So who cares if I’m addicted to shit? Becoming a pediatrician was a pipe dream. Something’s going to knock me out, either the drugs, my psych issues, or the brain tumor. Whatever.

Then I’d come out of that depressed stupor and realize, “Holy FUCK, what am I doing with my life?!”

Sober up. Then relapse. Then sober up. Eventually, I got so sick physically that I could hardly leave my house. That ended the drug use.

My treatment team was fairly large, and all of them were well renowned. I’d been told by different ones that I was risking going blind by not having surgery. Others said that the surgery was just too dangerous and would itself risk my vision, could lead me to have a stroke, or could, ya know, kill me. One doctor thought I needed my hypothalamus removed, which I previously didn’t even realize was a thing.

I started having something called cluster headaches. These are informally called “suicide headaches,” and are debated to be the most painful medical condition in existence, worse even than childbirth. I spent about 70% of my waking hours having those for months. I thought I’d known pain before. I didn’t know jack shit, but I sure learned fast.

I was then too sick to go to school. It was obvious, but the final straw was when I went to take my finals and passed out on the lawn for several hours. When I came to, my head was screaming, and my vision was blocked by large neon splotches. I told my mom thought I couldn’t go to school the next quarter. She said that if I didn’t work or go to school, I had no place to stay.

Enter: Homelessness!

At that point, I was beyond fucked. I had nowhere to go. For about a week, I stayed on my best friend’s couch. His house was literally a drug den, and basically shit was never farther than a few feet from my head. I started using again, and that was probably the darkest point.

I had no home, was critically ill, had no money or food, and was on drugs. I’d had to drop out of college, and my goal of becoming a pediatrician was laughably far away. Looked like the end of the road.

The homeless shelters were full, and I was totally prepared to get a sleeping bag and camp out under a bridge. Possibly just die there. Thank the lord, my fiance’s family decided to take me in. I lived there for months, not leaving the house even once, not even a mailbox trip. I was in excruciating pain every single day. Ironically, even though I was at my sickest physically, I was recovering psychologically. I wrote stories and loved to play Guitar Hero during what few comfortable hours I had.

I’ll still remember that early 2009, the headaches became drastically rarer. The tumor was growing slightly but no longer bleeding into my brain tissue. I thought, “Oh my god, what if I can finish college after all?”

It was a huge risk, but I flew out to California to finish up at UCLA. I was in horrible pain. I’d study over a puke bucket and with 2 pairs of shades on in the dark, with the text the size of my palm. I was seeing double. It didn’t matter to me that I had a sad story, or if it was “understandable” if I gave up. No one could save me from the consequences of that, so I pushed through.

Every day I walked to class, I passed by the old psych ward I’d stayed at. It just loomed there, monolithic and so tall. It felt like at any moment I’d be sucked back into its gravitational pull. Like being the slightest bit functional was just a brief gift, and I’d soon go back to where I belonged.

I finished my first quarter. Straight A’s.

I was so fucking proud of myself.

Another quarter came and went, and despite all the pain, I got 3 A’s and one A-. Passing by the ward one day, I took the elevator up to the ward’s floor. I wanted to face the past. The thought occurred to me that this time, I was coming here on my own free will. I was here to get an education and improve my life. Ever since that day, when I passed that building, I felt a swelling sense of pride and victory. I was on the right track again. Totally taking life by the huevos.

That quarter they found another tumor on me, in my adrenals. I didn’t let it throw me off much, because seriously nothing could rattle me at this point. I did admit to myself that becoming a pediatrician was not a wise path for me anymore. My health and immune system were too poor to make it through medical school, let alone residency. And even after that, I’d constantly be exposed to pathogens from my patients. Even now, I’m nowhere near healthy enough for that.

So it was time for Plan B. I studied economics, which I didn’t realize until later interested me like crazy.

I graduated from UCLA with a 3.4. It was nothing fancy, but it was by far the greatest accomplishment I’ve ever had in my life. To this day, I am so incredibly proud of myself for that. I know that I can take whatever life dishes out and throw it right back in that bitch’s face.

The recession was deep when I graduated, so I decided to go to grad school. I passed with a 3.7 GPA, and the brain tumor stopped growing. We don’t even know why.

Flash forward to now.

I’m still mentally ill. I take about 7 medications a day. Sometimes I’ll still have hallucinations and cluster headaches. This shit doesn’t just disappear.

My family likes to pretend that they’d been so supportive about the horrible things I’d had to go through.

But the fact is that I’m working a relatively high paying job and am engaged to a wonderful person whom I’ve been with for 11 years. I’ve traveled to twenty different countries (and counting) since I graduated from grad school, one of my greatest life goals. I lost all those excess pounds and am training now to run a half marathon. I’m passionate about life and like to think that I’ve helped some people in life-changing ways. I look back and can’t believe that I made it, but I did.

I went from homeless, penniless, and critically ill to being comfortable, having a healthy relationship, and traveling the world.

What freaks me out is how damned close I’d come to ending it. People tell you “It gets better” all the time. I know it sounds like trite bullshit, but it’s true. You have to be strong and adaptable, but I truly do believe in resiliency of the human spirit.

Nobody asked for my advice, but I went through hell to learn it, so I’m sharing. Never let life take more from you than it absolutely must. If you’ve never been truly tested, you would be shocked at how adaptable and resilient people can be. Don’t give up; as they say, this too shall pass. It’s okay if you don’t have your shit figured out yet, I promise you.

Please don’t compare yourself to others who might have had a “more difficult” life and chide yourself for hurting. You have every right to feel as you do and do not deserve to be dismissed. If you beat yourself up for feeling the way you do, you’ll only be weaker in the end.

Oh yeah, and also...

And for those who need help, I am here.