#And how you need to have very extreme self harm or suicidal ideation to be REALLY DEPRESSED KAREN

[starlit-mansion]

I deleted the tumblr app off my phone which has been good for not accidently wasting an entire hour every morning but sometimes i do want to look at tumblr on phone so i manually log in using the browser version and it's incredibly poorly optimized and is my version of virtuous suffering

[yukimomodivorce]

The Ghosts in IDOLiSH7 are a Literary Device, Mostly

(an essay by me)

People are always asking me, "Robin, what the fuck is up with those ghosts in IDOLiSH7? How come this otherwise completely non-supernatural universe randomly has these two ghosts that show up and then never get acknowledged again? Is it just canon that ghosts exist and only Riku and Momo can see them?" and I am always telling them that I have an analysis about this I just haven't written it yet. But that ends today, as do all of these very pressing concerns about the i7 Ghosts™, because here I am, finally writing the analysis. This essay will have two sections, the first on the training camp ghost from part 3/third beat, and the second on the Re:vale house ghost from Yuki's third chapter of Re:member. So, spoilers for all of part 3/third beat in both sections, Re:member in section 2, and there's one extremely minor spoiler for part 4 in section 1 but it's honestly so predictable I don't think it even counts. Also, I'll reiterate this once we get to it, but just a warning that section 2 will contain discussions of depression, suicide and suicidal ideation, and a brief mention of self-harm, so please stop reading after section 1 if you don't want to see any of that! Another less important disclaimer about section 2 is that I am going to spend an entirely unecessary amount of time talking about Yuki. I am normal about Yuki. Okay. Without further ado, let's watch my spiral into ghost analogy insanity unfold!

Game translations: @seigyokus Re:member translations: @ takara_time (+ scans and editing by @ waitamomoment) Rabbit chat translations: @osakaso5

Section 1: The Training Camp Ghost

This first point applies to both ghosts, but I wanna start by noting that I think superstitions and beliefs like this are more common in Japan than a lot of other places, so yeah it is entirely possible that ghosts are just a canon and accepted thing in Idolish7's universe and this isn't really that strange of a detail for the series to include. However, I don't have any real background knowledge about if ghosts are normal in non-supernatural anime/etc. and I am not committing to that kind of research, so we'll have to leave the specifics of the ghost canonicity issue to someone else. But regardless of how canon they are, I think we've established well enough by now that the i7 writers don't put much of anything in the series without reason (re:vale band name you will always be famous. to me), and that definitely applies here as well - both of our ghosts are doing a LOT of potential symbolic work in their brief appearances, and that's what we'll be unpacking today, starting with the TCG.

The infamous TCG (training camp ghost) of Atami needs no introduction, but I'll give her one anyway. During the filming of the Friends Day special, upon following the shopping group home, she offers her services to Riku (inexplicably the only person capable of communicating with her) for the evening entertainment group's test of courage, terrorises several cast members throughout the day, and finally brings us Soma Saito's incredible cover of Dis One before probably being sent back to idol fan purgatory forever. Who is she? Where did she come from? I have several theories.

1.1: The TCG is the audience

While the 'ghosts are real in i7' possibility is there, I think it's also important to note in this case that the whole training camp is very explicitly being filmed for TV, and the biggest vibe I get from this episode of the anime is that the ghost is a part of the show, and we're seeing that show through the eyes of its in-universe audience. This happens pretty often in i7 (for example, when we see the groups talk to their fans during concerts), and generally the line between the real fans and the fictional ones can get pretty blurred (which deserves its own much longer analysis but I Am Not Writing All That), so everything with the in-universe audience here kind of naturally extends to us as the real audience. The TCG would probably be easy enough to manufacture with special effects as long as Riku and the driver guy were in on it, and it would make sense for the Friends Day producers to include it to keep things entertaining and be a stand-in for their viewers/fans of the idol groups - the ghost is specifically a female fan of male idols (Zero), and a lot of her interactions with the cast would qualify as self-insert material (e.g. Tenn singing for her and Riku looking directly into the camera to smile at her). And speaking of Tenn and Riku,

1.2 The TCG is Nanase twins angst

I think this connection is fairly obvious in their exchange here. You could make a case for the ghost representing either one of the twins. Like Riku, she's being pushed away by Tenn before she's ready to leave, told that it's necessary and for the best that they stay separated - after all, they live in different worlds. Like Tenn, she's leaving despite Riku's protests and part of her not really wanting to go at first, because she believes it's for the best that they stay separated - after all, they live in different worlds.

There's also the association with ghosts of being ignored/invisible, and Riku being the only person able to see or talk to her. Maybe it's because he's the only one who's able to reach her. Maybe he can see her because he understands her on some level - she was torn away from life like he was torn away from his brother, and she's now practically invisible to everyone else around her, like Riku probably feels to Tenn (and arguably the rest of his family in some ways). Maybe he wants her to feel seen, and he can make Tenn acknowledge her in the way he wants to be acknowledged by him. I might actually be going somewhere with this so bear with me for a second.

1.3: The TCG is monster Riku foreshadowing

So my first thought when I watched the Nanase twin angst portion of this episode was 'well obviously the ghost isn't real and Riku is just using it to talk to Tenn indirectly' because they are always having indirect conversations like this and it makes me insane, and I do still think that's the idea here, just not quite in the sense that Riku is making things up. Going back to the whole 'ghost is a stand-in for the audience' thing, and assuming that she's saying the things that Riku wants to say and Tenn is telling her the things he wants to tell Riku, then we could say that rather than Riku purposefully having the ghost speak for him, this is an extension of the monster effect. I guess in this scenario the TCG is a real ghost (and a figurative representation of the audience), and Riku is having the same effect on her that Iori says he has on everyone else. He unknowingly projects his desire to connect with his brother onto her, and she tries to help him. Really, the only times we see her after she follows the shopping group to their cabin are when she's helping Riku, with the test of courage and then with speaking to Tenn. This gets convoluted so I kinda doubt it's intentional? But it's fun to think about.

1.4: The TCG is the friends we made along the way

Riku spells this out a bit more explicitly in the game here, but the TCG represents the each of the groups in the series in a couple different ways. I guess one way you could interpret this is that the ghost is meant to be there to emphasise how extraordinary it is that they're all together, but I don't think that really holds up considering how often they end up working with each other throughout the series anyway. What's important here is the idea of the ghost itself, something that can be present and felt even when it isn't physically or actually there. Again, the ghost is the audience - a constant influence for better and for worse on these idols even when they aren't watching, even in their personal lives; and vice versa, the ghost is the idols being able to reach their fans without ever actually knowing them. More relevant to what Riku says, the ghost is the groups to each other - friends, mentors, rivals, pushing them forward even when they aren't standing side by side. You could even say the ghost is ZOOL, friends who aren't here right now but will be someday. Re:vale and Idolish7 as groups don't especially fit the ghost description, but they have their fair share of ghosts - Banri, Haruki, Tenn, Aya, Sougo's uncle. Zero. The list goes on, for Trigger and ZOOL as well, but I think the most important way the ghost analogy applies to this section of the story is with Trigger. Because during the imminent Arc Where Trigger Gets Cancelled™, despite leaving their agency and disappearing almost entirely from the public eye, they're still very much there to their fans and to their friends. So. I kinda forgot what I was saying but to sum it all up the ghost here represents everything that stays with you even when it's far away or after it's gone from your life. Mikanseinabokura and all that. And now that I mention it-

Section 2: The Re:vale House Ghost

Once again, a warning that this section has a brief mention of self-harm, as well as in-depth discussions of depression, suicide and suicidal ideation (which I'm gonna be talking about pretty bluntly the entire time), so please don't proceed unless you're comfortable with all of that!

Like most things in Re:member, the RHG (Re:vale house ghost) makes me insane. Today I am going to attempt to form coherent thoughts about it and it is unlikely that I'll succeed, but try to bear with me. Though it isn't around for as long as the TCG, we have a little more info about the RHG - it's the ghost that haunts the shitty apartment Yuki and Momo live in together in their early days as Re:vale. Supposedly. All it actually does is slam the door of one kitchen cabinet and I don't think that this is definitive evidence of paranormal activity because most houses are just like that. It's all a little bit vague, but according to Re:vale, their house is definitely haunted by the ghost of someone who died in the kitchen, because when they move in there is a mysterious black stain on their kitchen floor. Momo introduces himself to the floor stain while Yuki stares at him in awe and blushes and shoujo filter flowers appear in his eyes. God I hate them. I think the RHG is just a figment of their collective imagination or maybe they're having one of those shared delusions or something. But that's really besides the point because this ghost exists for one very specific thematic purpose: the RHG is Yuki.

And on that note, let's go back and talk about Yuki for a few minutes (potentially hours) before we get to our actual analysis of the ghost scene. Mostly because I just wanna talk about him, but also because I do understand why some people think the 'Momo starts talking to ghosts' part of Re:member is kinda weird and random, and I think at least some of this is important to go over before we unpack it.

A consensus has already been established among Yuki scholars that our subject has autism (Kei et al. 2024). Today, I would like to propose an additional diagnosis: Yuki has depression.

2.1: "I lost my dreams, friends, and passion as well."

So, Yuki pretty clearly gets depressed when Ban leaves him. He loses interest in everything he used to care about, gives up on his dreams, blames himself for Ban's injury and disappearance, he's constantly sad, tired and irritable, and he lashes out at Momo (and Kujou, though there are some other pretty strong reasons for that one) and presumably everyone else he knows (I doubt he had a particularly good relationship with anyone else in the first place, but still).

He's grieving here, and it would make sense for him to react this way because of that fact alone. But I really don't think that's all there is to it, because he exhibits these symptoms (among others) long before Ban leaves him. He can't get out of bed in the mornings, he rarely leaves the house if he can avoid it, he has days where he can't eat or sleep, he's underweight and always tired and generally known to lack energy and be slow (or 'lazy') and in some cases listless and despondent. Ban even says that he wouldn't put it past Yuki to start slitting his wrists. And it's subtle, but there's one more really big one that really never goes away for him, even after he finds Ban.

2.2: "I don't need anyone to love me."

I'll get straight to the point. Yuki hates himself. Maybe only a little bit, maybe only sometimes, but it's there. Especially when he struggles with composing - he even says it himself in part 1 of his birthday photobook rabbit chat, almost immediately after saying that it made him want to kill himself but we'll get back to that part.

But it's really everywhere on what seems to be a mostly subconscious level for him, if you know how to look, even from the very beginning:

On paper, this line is just his frustration with being judged by anything other than his music, because it's something he cares a lot about and puts a lot of work into and he wants that to be acknowledged. But I think that if you take it in conjunction with some of the other things he tends to say, there's a little bit more to it.

I dont need anyone to love me. Yuki's songs are worthy of love. Yuki is not. There is nothing valuable about Yuki other than his songs, he has nothing else that deserves any sort of praise, and without them, he's just a useless burden with nothing to offer. He doesn't need anyone to love him - he doesn't understand why anyone would. And Momo does, and he's a good person, and Yuki doesn't deserve that when there's nothing he can actually do for him. And when that starts to change and he starts getting better at showing kindness to others and being there for Momo, he doesn't see it as learning to better express his feelings, he sees is as learning to feel affection and be a good person, because he believes that he is inherently not. As far as he can tell, Yuki is just naturally a bad person and a bad partner who isn't kind and isn't capable of love or compassion, not unless he tries to be. He knows, because he's heard it god knows how many times - even Chiba Shizuo blatantly tells him that neither of them can become good people - and maybe things are different now, but on some basic level it'll always be who he is.

Ok breaking character for a second, imagine you show up to your acting side gig and on the first day Keanu Reeves comes up to you and gives you $300 cash and then later he indirectly tells you that you're a nasty lonely egotistical failure. Now imagine you're Yuki and you have no fucking clue who Keanu Reeves is. He also shows you pictures of his top secret illegitimate son after talking to you for like 10 minutes and you have to lie to him about being straight. I think this is objectively the funniest situation to be in ever. Chiba Shizuo and Yamato both probably have depression also, but I'm not gonna spend any time on it, because every three months a person is torn to pieces by a crocodile in Northern Queensland. I forgot what I was talking about. Anyway

2.3: Hey remember that one time Yuki just straight up tried to kill himself

Yeah, that one. As far as I know this is really never addressed or acknowledged again, so we're just gonna take the page-long gag from Re:member at face value and say that after Ban's disappearance, Yuki (almost) attempted suicide, and the only reason he didn't go through with it is because he couldn't find anywhere to hang the noose. And like, yeah you could say it's just because he thought Ban might have killed himself and he's always been the kind of hopeless romantic to be waxing poetic about how "I can't live without you," but at the same time, he had no apparent reason to believe this (even if Ban did have suicidal tendencies I doubt Yuki would've really known), and he was planning to go through with it (I know it's probably just for comedic effect but he left a will. He left a will. He's, like, 20, and surely not the kind of person who would just have something like that in order already). This is also emphatically not the last time or the only reason he thinks about it.

I told you we'd get back to the photobook chat! I think there's also a lot you can infer from all the times he says he'd probably be dead by now without Momo and he wouldn't be able to handle losing him, what with the whole "when you jump, you'd better take me with you" thing. But regardless, this really isn't just that one time that Yuki tried to kill himself. It's suicidal ideation, and it's something he consistently struggles with especially in the few months after Ban leaves him. It even comes up in how he sees the 'paranormal activity' his new apartment:

2.4: "It seemed as though someone had hung themselves there."

Yeah it's the ghost I'm finally gonna talk about the ghost. I'm done with my Yuki has depression rant we can talk about why the ghost is Yuki now. I guess it might be more accurate to say that the ghost is Yuki's depression/suicidal thoughts/Banri trauma/whatever, but either way I think it represents him and he might also be semi-consciously projecting onto it, and I'm gonna go through line-by-line and try to explain my interpretation.

I think if you want to there's definitely room to take the 'usual paranormal activity' super literally and say that Yuki was having outbursts and slamming doors at the time (which would also match up with him being startled by it). I think it's also important to note that this is happening around the time he mentions feeling suicidal and not being able to compose in the photobook chat, but the main thing here is that second line. Even though Momo is always so nice to him, he can't stop himself from getting mad and being difficult and depressed, and he can't return that kindness - he can't even be useful to him.

I've already mentioned how I think Yuki's conclusion about the stain here plays into his suicidal ideation, but let's look at it a little more thematically. It's the way that even though it's glossed over earlier in the manga, Yuki's suicide attempt and everything that accompanied it still follows him, and it hangs (lol) heavy in their house like a ghost. To Yuki, it's startling and eerie - it scares him, and he's expecting it to scare Momo once he sees that side of him too. And it probably does scare him a little, and he hesitates, but he doesn't scream. Again, there's room to interpret this more literally as Momo finding out about his attempt/ideation/depression, or just as him inevitably seeing how he gets on his worse days, but either way the outcome is the same. Momo is starting to know Yuki as a person instead of an idol, flaws and probable mental illness and all, and his first reaction isn't to shy away or start to hate him or want to leave. It's an introduction. He makes it clear that they'll both be staying here from now on, that he's willing to live with the 'darker' sides of Yuki, and to help him do the same. Another point on this that's up to interpretation (because let's be real they're probably never gonna deal with this stuff explicitly in canon), you could see the whole ghost thing as neither of them really being able/wanting to accept that Yuki's symptoms are actually a part of him (and this is veering completely into fanfic territory but now I'm just imagining both of them silently agreeing to blame the things Yuki does on bad days on the ghost) but we've had enough angst for one day.

Everything else lines up well enough with the ghost and Yuki, but it's really his reaction here that sells the whole thing for me. It's a simple gesture, but just by Momo greeting him, being by his side, waiting for him when he comes home, that constant reminder of all his darkest thoughts becomes just another mark on the floorboards. It's not gone, and it probably never will be. But at least now, he doesn't have to face it alone. And it doesn't look so scary anymore.

2.5: "Now I know joy, and the meaning of a smile."

I must confess that I lied to all of you earlier. I'm actually not done with my Yuki rant and also there's a good reason I've been ignoring all the parts of Re:member where he isn't being self-deprecating or trying to kill himself. The end of the ghost scene is only the beginning of the end of this analysis, and the end of this analysis is pretty much just me having a meltdown about Yuki. Also I'm running out of space for images so we're doing some of the quotes like this instead.

After losing Ban, I lost my dreams, friends, and passion as well. I could only feel a sting as the wind passed through an empty, gaping hole in my chest. But I breathed as best as I could, and he tried to clear the dirt out of that hole, filling it with his earnest words instead.

Yuki still exhibits a lot of symptoms of depression all the way through the series, like the low energy and the trouble eating and sleeping, and [redacted part 5 spoilers] makes me think there's definitely some sort of connection between his writers' block and his depressive episodes. He still mentions feeling guilty towards Banri in second beat, the suicidal ideation doesn't really come up explicitly but he kinda hints at it on a few occassions, and he's very adament that he was a bad person and still isn't really a good one. But it's like. I don't really know how to put this, but I guess it's not his default state anymore like it was right after Ban left (and possibly before that, too). For the most part, he really does get better, and these things become less intense and fewer and farther between. He would probably say that it's all thanks to Momo, and it is, but he also very much does it of his own volition. Momo refuses so desperately to give up on him, and because of that he makes that choice to keep going by restarting Re:vale with him.

Yuki allows himself to let someone else in and start to love again - his partner, his music, his life. Even while he's thinking that he's just a burden to those around him, he doesn't resign himself to his fate like he might have done in the past. He's determined to become a better person, someone who can be a source of strength for Momo just like he was for him. And in the end, he does, but it's not just that. Now he knows joy. Now he can genuinely smile. And now,

I want to hear them scream my name. The voices that called out had annoyed me in the past. But now, I'll smile, together with Momo, who'll be by my side.

Going back to what I said about some of Yuki's subconscious self-hatred coming through in the way he wants people to look at his music and not at him, I. Cannot finish a sentence. Do NOT think about Yuki learning to love himself and see himself as worthy of love because Momo loved him just that much in a way that he could accept. BAD IDEA. Okay. So. It's Ban's advice and Momo's fan letter that get Yuki to accept that his fans do genuinely love his music in the first place, and I think it's here that it really starts to turn into him accepting the idea that they love other things about him too? Or that he really starts to want it and be happy about it instead of just accepting it? Whatever. I give up. I don't even like Re:vale anyway

That day, I would play the guitar I'd almost thrown at Kujou, because I now knew the power of a song that could not be silenced. I would dry my tears, open the door, and say, "I'm home."

[inlovewithpandora]

Hey love💕 I was wondering if you could write a oneshot where neteyam finds out reader harms herself?

Thank for this request anon💗! I hope it meets your expectations!

If anyone has any requests leave them in my asks!

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Part 1 (here) || Part 2 || Part 3

This story was inspired by the song above^

- I'm tired -

Pairing: Neteyam x Fem! Omatikaya gf! reader

Both characters are 19!

Warnings: self harm ( very descriptive) suicide ideation, attempt, extreme angst, slight physical/ emotional abuse

If your not comfortable with this type of writing please click off

Word count: 1,645

You and Neteyam just recently started dating a few weeks ago. The first time you saw him it made a feeling that was foreign to you course through your veins. When you meet him and got to know him he made you feel an emotion you've never felt before, Happiness.

Every time he came by your pod to whisk you away to somewhere special in the forest you felt nothing but pure bliss.

But when you weren't around you him you felt melancholic, lonely, depressed, and every other negative feeling under the sun. The environment you lived in was toxic and it was ripping a piece of you away every day.

You were trying to ignore the pain and heartache but it wasn't working. you were trying to find healthy ways to cope like weaving or hunting but it wasn't working. The only thing that would help is cutting, making small slits into your navy blue skin that would release crimson-colored liquid. Watching the blood drip down your arm is the only thing that would help you feel better and would make the pain stop.

You lived at home with your father and he was an alcoholic. When you were born your mother died while giving birth to you and that was the last day your father showed any positive emotion. He abhorred you for taking the love of his life away and he made sure you knew it every single day.

You were sitting in your part of the pod trying to avoid your father's alcoholic rage but you couldn't because he decided to come find you and spew his hatred all over you.

He came and pulled the curtain back which revealed you sitting on your woven mat. As he was towering over your small frame you could smell the alcohol seeping from his pores, "What are doing in here?!"

"N-nothing father I'm just making a necklace for someone", A couple of days ago you and Neteyam were sitting by a pond and he told you how he needed a new necklace because he lost his other one so you decided to make him one.

"Who is it for?! Is it for that boy you've been running around with?!" He yelled which startled you. You hated when he yelled because it always made you cry. Instead of responding you just sat there silently looking down at the floor which told your father he was correct about his assumption.

He let out a dark chuckle before continuing to yell at you, "He is only using you for your body, do you think someone could really like you?! That someone would want to actually mate with you one day?! You have to be the dumbest na'vi around to think that. Look at you, you're pitiful. Always crying and sulking around this house. You're always cutting your arm like some deranged freak! What boy would ever want someone like that?!" He yelled with venom coming out of his mouth with each word that escaped his lips

All you could do is break down into a crying fit. You felt like your father was right, why would someone want to be with someone who felt like their only escape was harming themselves? You felt like whatever you had going on inside of you could rub off on Neteyam and you didn't want to corrupt him with this sickness.

Your father saw drops of water flowing down your face and it only made him angrier, "WHAT ARE YOU CRYING FOR? HUH? THERE IS NO REASON FOR YOU TO BE SHEDDING ANY TEARS! IF ANYTHING I SHOULD BE THE ONE CRYING, YOU TOOK MY MATE FROM ME! EVER SINCE YOU CAME INTO MY LIFE IT HAS BEEN NOTHING BUT HELL!" He shouted at you furiously

He crouched down to your level and harshly grabbed your bicep, yanking you up so you could stand on your feet. He then extended your arm, looking at all the scars that ran down your skin. He began to speak but this time he wasn't yelling, he was calm but you could still hear the maliciousness in his tone.

"I wish you were the one that died that day, not your mother. Next time you decided to cut yourself make sure you finished the job and go live among Eywa. I can't stand to have you living in my house and making me live in despair." He let go of your arm and threw it to your side. He lifted his alcoholic beverage to his lips and began imbibing enormous amounts of it before walking outside the pod.

As you stood there with sobs emerging from your throat you decided that you were tired. You were tired of your father's emotional and sometimes physical abuse, you looked down at your arm and could see a purple outline on your arm from his tight grip.

You were tired of feeling like this, you need the pain and heartache to stop. You needed this feeling of sorrow to go away. You looked around your pod and grabbed your knife and put it in its sheath and grabbed your shawl and wrapped it around your arms and began walking to Neteyam's Family pod.

You wanted to talk to him and tell him how you felt about him before you went to see the Great Mother.

As you walked you heard a group of girls talking about you as you walked by, "Look at her, She looks awful" one of the girls said while laughing

"Yeah I'm surprised she even came out of her pod, she's been locked up in there for almost a week" one of the other girls chimed in

They continued saying all these nasty things about you and it made you feel even worse than before. Neteyam was in the tree above, looking down at the event that was unfolding. He watched you run away to a deeper part of the forest. He immediately climbed down the tree and began to follow you to see if you were okay.

He hasn't seen you in almost a week and he's been worried about you. He came by your pod to try and talk to you but every time he came your father sent him away.

As you were running you didn't know where you going until you found yourself in front of a small pond. You sat down and looked at your reflection in the water, as you looked at yourself you couldn't even recognize the person you saw anymore. It was like you changed into a totally different person. You looked at yourself and felt disgusted, you felt like you looked repulsive. As you looked at your puffy eyes and the dark circles around them you felt so much pain and agony.

You pulled your knife out of its sheath and pressed it again your skin. You knew by doing this it would make you feel so much better, you would finally be at peace. You could finally see your mother and live among your ancestors.

As you were about to penetrate your skin and create a gash so deep that it would bleed out until you took your last breath, you heard someone call out your name.

"Y/N!" Neteyam called out. You turned and saw so many emotions on his face, he looked at you horrified by what he saw you doing to your body.

As you looked at him all you could is cry even harder, "Neteyam please leave"

You didn't want him to see you in this state, you didn't want him to see you so broken.

"Y/N what's wrong? What's going on?" Neteyam asked you as he sat down next to you. As he looked at your arm he saw multiple old scars on your arm and a bruise on your bicep, as you followed his gaze all you could do was apologize to him even though you didn't know why you were doing it.

"I-I’m sorry Neteyam I just can't handle the pain anymore, I'm tired of feeling so miserable. I'm always crying and I'm so weak. Nobody likes me not even my own father, the person who's supposed to love me the most. I feel like I'm going crazy, I feel like I'm a freak" you told him  as you let out sobs in between every few words

"I don't want to live Neteyam. I want to be with Eywa where I can feel peace, I need to feel peace."

As you rambled without properly thinking clearly, Neteyam was horrified by your words. "Baby, why would you say that?" Neteyam asked you as his voice broke a little. He hated hearing you speak about yourself so harshly and it broke his heart to hear that you wanted to end your life

"Because it's true! Every single thing I said was true"

"Y/N you are not a freak, you are beautiful and I love you with every fiber in my body. Whatever is going on with your father I will help you figure it out. I will be there for you and help you through these feelings until they have faded away. I will be here for you always, but you can't leave me. I want you to stay here with me so we can grow old together, Okay?" he talked to you with so much conviction in his voice some tears slowly streamed down his face

"Okay, Neteyam" is all you could muster up and say. You wrapped your arms around his body and clung to him. He embraced you and kissed you on the cheek " These feelings won't last forever, we'll get through this together" As you laid your head on his shoulder for the first time you felt like someone cared about you. As you laid in his embrace you felt a feeling you'd been longing for, something you wanted for a long time.

Love & Peace

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[beifong-brainrot]

Suyin wasn't "coerced" to commit a crime, neither did she want to take herself out of the situation. She wanted to get her friends out of paying for their crimes because she's spoiled and entitled.

She didn't "have" to travel the world, she was sent to family members to take her away from a criminal and endangering environment, and she decided to escape because she's too much of a pick me girl to stay with the so called family "that didn't show her affection". To be honest, you speak of her as some kind of adult avatar-styled Rapunzel, instead of a teenager who deserved to be reprimanded.

She did turn her life around, and kudos to the creators for showing that. No one can say that her story and background is boring by any chance.

She, however, is not the most likeable character out there to a big part of the fandom, but I seriously doubt someone is taking it as seriously as you seem to do. Just chill.

Istg this happens almost everytime I post something mildly touching on the fact that Suyin deserves compassion too. Though you may be the same anon who blew up my inbox a while back so it might just be you.

I've always found the disdain we have for "troubled teens" upsetting because usually, when a teenager "acts out", there's more of a reason behind it that just "ooh they're spoilt or entitled".

[Trigger warning for self harm and suicidal ideation mentions]

Like, I was a very difficult teen back in the day. I argued with my parents, even got into physical altercations, skipped school, ran away from home at night. I was also going through a severe depression, dealing with a shitton of childhood trauma, cutting on the regular and making multiple attempts on my life. Hell, if my parents had brushed me off as "a kid who needs to be disciplined" I probably would've killed myself at 14. It doesn't excuse me for punching my dad in the stomach when he was just trying to stop me from running away into the night but it doesn't mean I didn't deserve help.

[End of Trigger Warning]

These two things can be correct at the same time. Suyin can have done a shitty thing that deserves reprimand and that she needs help that she seemingly had to find on her own. But like, guess which of these two is almost exclusively focused on.

And I mean, it's totally not like the Avatar fandom has a habit of expressing extreme hate towards young girls (especially young girls of colour) making sub optimal choices or just beind "annoying". I've just never seen that before.

Suyin grew up with Toph, who Lin herself has described like this:

Suyin : No, no. My children are a blessing. Lin: Yeah, mom used to say that too, but she never meant it.

Which btw, still an incredibly hillarious thing to say in front of Suyin's children: "Hi kids I'm your aunt Lin and your mother is lying about loving you"

While Suyin has, as a child, expressed doubt that Toph would even care that she's skipping school. And as an adult, she has described her childhood with Lin as "competing for their mother's affection" and still has doubts whether or not her mother is happy with how either of them turned out.

Hell, even though Su and Toph have been said to have made up, Toph still maintains a heavy layer of distance between them, seemingly dissappearing for years at a time!

It's honestly sad how Suyin hugs Toph and puts up statues of her everywhere in Zaofu and yet Toph still just fucked off to the swamp when Opal was probably less then ten and did not contact them.

I mean, sounds like there's not a lot of motherly affection going on there, dude. Idk what to tell ya. We know there were no fathers around either.

And Lin was also a victim of this environment, so I don't really want this to come off as me blaming her for the way she acted towards Su. But Lin is hardly what I would call affectionate.

So of course Suyin would put so much stock in her relationships outside the house. And her friends happened to be fucking criminals fucking hell. And of course Lin, being a kid too did not know how to approach this situation properly, so she inadvertently just pushed Suyin closer to them by insulting them and making her feel defensive.

Because that's what all fucking teens do. The internalise things, they rely on their peers to form their perception of things and they want to be independent. So when someone, especially someone who isn't a parent tries to control them, guess how they'll react? They dig their heels in. Especially a teen like Suyin who has virtually no reason to listen to her older sister other than a vague "I know better than you" type of vibe which really pisses teens off. That's like the time when talking down to them is the worst thing to do.

And fuck off with saying getting arrested and screamed at by your sister in the middle of the road isn't a stressful situation that you wolud wanna get out of. Lin punched a car so hard it dented! (Especially that Lin has already been confirmed to use her status as a police officer against people she has a vendetta against, like when SHE TRIED TO THROW PEMA IN JAIL FOR STEALING HER MANS like how tf did we brush over that)

What I always find interesting in this scene is the front that Su puts on in front of Lin, which slips up a few times, particularly when Lin can't see her expression. Because Suyin is, of course being a fucking brat and taunting Lin, but you can clearly see that she's stressed out.

Suyin also describing the reason she helped her friends as a getaway driver is something I find interesting:

Suyin: I didn't steal anything. I just drove the car. I owed my friends a favor. It's not a big deal.

Of course she's scared and minimising her involvement but the usage of "owing her friends" could very easily imply her not exactly being too hyped about this, as well as her insistence on not stealing anything.

Because the thing about Suyin is that, especially in the flashbacks, we see her only in Lin's PoV. We don't see her relationship with her friends, what led up to the robbery, anything. Which makes sense, because the flashbacks are supposed to be Lin's. But that means we're viewing Su with the inherent bias of Lin, who clearly has an agenda against Su.

Lin clearly blames Suyin for Toph leaving policework, despite us later seeing how burnt out and cynical Toph was about being a cop. Its more likely that Su's arrest was a wake-up call for Toph, but she left due to the buildup of stress and disillusionment and Lin, who has been idolising her mother and her mother's career blamed it on Suyin in her head.

Hell, even they made up, Lin still immediately pivots to accusing Suyin of being involved in the Red Lotus' attack. Despite the attack placing Suyin's life, the lives of her sons and the lives of her guards at risk and Suyin going out of her way to thwart it.

And Suyin's life is just a fucking mess after this point like: betrayal by close friend, daughter kidnapped by terrorists, anarchy in the kingdom, leaders of 2 foreign governments trying to pressure her into subjugating the people in the name of a monarch she doesn't support, betrayal part 2; child boogaloo, the country she lives in being declared a dictatorship, city under literal siege, threat of attack in 24 hours, the fucking Avatar doing fuck all to help, a desperate attempt at assassinating the leader, getting caught and placed in questionably humane restraints, having to watch her daughter be forced to flee, PUBKIC HUMILIATION, the arrest of her non combative son and husbandd, INHUMANE JAIL CELL...

Do I need to go on? Like the moment the Krew came to her gouse her life just started to fucking fall apart its actually kinda hillarious.

And calling Suyin a "pick me" is just... unfounded? Who's she trying to get picked by? Her mom who doesn't love her? Girlie just wanted a family she literally said so in the show, put your listening ears on, babes.

I understand that Suyin isn't the most likeable character to people. I can understand why they dislike her. She can be annoying, hypocritical, rash, the poor structuring of the episodes around her and Lin makes it so she gets unearned favour from the writers etc. People who like Lin and Kuvira, two extremely popular characters in the fandom have an easy villain in their faves' lives if they just tweak Suyin a bit.

But that doesn't mean I'm obligated to dislike her too or that I'm not allowed to post about her in a way that doesn't allign with the fandom's narrative of her. You're not obligated to read it, hun, you can block the #pro suyin beifong tag if it makes you that upset to see me

I want to appreciate parts of Suyin which aren't highlighted by the fandom and I'm allowed to do that. Just because it doesn't fit with your clearly overtly negative opion of the character well, tough luck. And hey, I gladly take the opportunity to talk about Suyin, but I've also made a ridiculous amount of posts around har and have probably addressed almost every single fandom complaint of her at some point so I'm starting to get a little tired of repeating myself lol.

And I'll be the first to admit, my own teenage years probably heavily affect how compassionate I am towards Suyin, particularly in her younger years. But I know how much people hate "troubled teens", how little compassion thet are given.

The narrative that if a misbehaving teenager just gets deisciplined and reprimanded enough they'll stop being "spoilt and entitled" or acting out is wrong and harmful. It hurts tons of teenagers by not getting them the help they need and it would've fucking killed me.

Also hun, I'm not sure if you've noticed, but I tend to use hyperbole a lot. I'm a dramatic bitch. Like did you also think I was serious when I said I'd shoot myself if I saw another ad for Amazon's shit lotr wannabe show?

Tbh everytime I get an ask like this I vaguely consider doubling down and commiting to the bit of being the fandom's "Lin Beifong hater". Though I feel like a lot of people wouldn't realise its a bit and think I actually hate her for real lol.

[autism-autobot]

LMK Angst Fic Part 4: (I ran out of funny rhyming titles)

TW: Suicidal ideation/attempt, death, (if I missed any please let me know)

Part 3 if you haven't read it yet:

"You planned on using the Samadhi Fire to do WHAT????!!!!!"

Wukong didn't expect his brother to be this upset and downright horrified when he found out about his original plan to put an end to the Lady Bone Demon.

Ever since his recent "incident" Nezha has refused to leave Sun Wukong anywhere alone. Nezha stayed days and nights with him in fear of something happening to Wukong, and occasionally something would, but never to the extremes that he reached that night. They would switch between staying at Flower Fruit Mountain and staying at Nezha's house in the celestial realm. Wherever they were, Nezha would keep close tabs on Wukong.

Nezha had to attend a private conference today, and so decided to leave Sun Wukong in the Demon Bull Family's care. Eventually, Red Son brought up the fight with the LBD which eventually led to the current topic of conversation.

SWK: Well, I mean, there are worse plans I could've had than kamikaze-ing Lady Bone Demon.

DBK: I SINCERELY DOUBT THAT!!!!!!!

PIF: Honestly, Wukong, do you really have a death wish or something?

SWK: Why do you think Nezha left me here with you guys?

SWK: *realizes what he just said*

Nezha hadn't explained to Princess Iron Fan exactly why he thought that Wukong needed to be babysat watched over, only that he had a good reason for requesting this of her and her family. Iron Fan had known Nezha for a long time, and knew whatever reasoning it was, it was sound. But this? This was something she had never fathomed could come to be, let alone is.

RS: Oooooh, so that's why Nezha had you stay with us. You're on suicide watch!

DBK & PIF: RED SON, MIND YOURSELF!!!!!

RS: Well he is!

SWK: It's okay. We might as well call it as it is.

SWK: It didn't exactly start out as a suicide watch, but I think Nezha might have gotten a little paranoid since then, so it's basically suicide watch at this point.

SWK: I'm not entirely ashamed of it, really. I think it's very sweet of Nezha to be looking out for me like this. No one has had my back in such a long time, I kinda forgot what it felt like to have someone who genuinely cares about me.

RS: But we care about you. Don't we father?

DBK: Indeed. You would do well to remember that little brother.

SWK: Wait, you guys aren't just doing this as a favor to Nezha? I thought you guys were still mad at me for, you know, the whole mountain thing?

DBK: Of course not! That's water under the bridge at this point! I'm not mad at you for that, and yes I still mourn the time that was lost, but ultimately you are my brother. Nothing will ever change that.

RS: If you don't mind my asking, I would like to hear your side of the story, uncle. I have heard the tale of my father's imprisonment several times from both of my parents, but I would like to know how things went from your perspective.

SWK: Really?

RS: Indeed.

PIF: I admit, I am quite curious as well.

RS: What about you father?

DBK: I believe I would like to know as well.

SWK: Alright, you asked for it.

Sun Wukong recollected the tale of the Demon Bull King's imprisonment, but the way he told it, it was hardly about the act of imprisoning his brother, but rather the events that came before and after the matter.

~~~

Wukong had been at his husband's side as his beloved was about to succumb to a terrible illness that had plagued him for a while. To their misfortune, the Jade Emperor himself instructed Sun Wukong to kill, not imprison, the Demon Bull King. He said that if Wukong didn't comply, they would send someone else after DBK, and possibly his wife and only son as well, depending upon whether said other person saw fit. Both spouses were enraged and horrified at the thought. Wukong's spouse then encouraged him to go to stop his brother, but he could hardly bring himself to do so.

Wukong didn't want to leave his husband's side, but the choice (or lack thereof) became clear.

He had to let his husband die alone.

It was then that Wukong heard his beloved spouse's last words to him:

"My love will be with you even after I'm gone. Now go. Save your brother. I love you so much."

And Wukong responded:

"I love you too, my precious snapdragon."

---

Sun Wukong later returned staffless and heartbroken and found his bed void of all life, but also void of a corpse as well.

~~~

RS: Wait, whatthefuck? Where did the corpse go?

SWK: THAT'S THE WEIRD PART!!! I DON'T KNOW!!!!

SWK: But I do have a theory....

~~~

Some species of monkey, including the ones on FFM have a funeral ritual that Wukong has been attempting to outlaw for centuries. They rip the corpse to shreds and essentially have a snowball fight with the remains. However, there were no remnants of any type of corpse on the mountain.

~~~

DBK: What is wrong with your people?

SWK: I don't know, apparently I'm king of the psychopaths!

SWK: Anyhow, that's my theory. I kind of hope I'm right about this because what else could have possibly happened?

PIF: I don't know and I don't want to know.

RS: I don't know what I was anticipating your side of the story would be but it certainly wasn't that!

~~~

Nezha arrived a few hours later to collect Sun Wukong and was asked to confirm the Jade Emperor portion of Wukong's story, to which he did.

Nezha: I hadn't known that Wukong's husband was on his deathbed at the time! That is unacceptable regardless of circumstance. I'm very sorry for your loss.

SWK: It's fine, it happened hundreds of years ago and it's not like he's around to do it again.

Nezha: True, true.

RS: DID HE MENTION THAT PART ABOUT

~~~

Nezha went to sleep with one eye open that night.

Masterpost

[glitterguts13]

Do you have any favourite of hcs (any kind) of aventurine?

Oh, I have so much to say about Aventurine it's not even funny, so here comes a jumbled mix of thoughts.

TW: topics of slavery, self-harm, sexual abuse, and suicidal ideation. Please read with caution!

Aventurine struggles with genuine physical and emotional intimacy. Having been used, abused, and tortured all this life, mentally, sexually, and physically, he's grown to learn that people are to be kept at arm's length the whole time.

Because of this, Aventurine became very hyper-sexual to deal with the trauma. To him, if he starts it and stays in control, he can't be hurt. This isn't true at all, but it's the only way he knows how to handle people who start getting touchy with him because saying 'no' never worked in the past.

If someone does manage to break down his walls and form a genuine emotional bond with him...he really doesn't know what to do. He showers his partners with gifts and money, is extremely sex driven, and doesn't have any consideration for his own well-being. He's so worried about losing them, that he gives too much.

Aventurine doesn't know how to ask for things he wants. In the sense, he doesn't know how to say "Please, just hold my hand." or "Will you brush my hair?" These simple little acts of love that he desperately craves, but can't ask for because he's worried he's being needy.

For fucks sake just hold this man and remind him that his worth isn't tied to his wealth or his body.

The hand that trembles, hold it tightly and press it to your lips. He'll fall to pieces.

Aventurine is torn between desperately wanting a family and being terrified of having one. He wants a partner, children, and a home to come back to that's filled with love, warmth, and laughter...but he knows how quickly he could lose it, and just how big a target is painted on his back. It keeps him up at night, debating back and forth on if he should pursue his desire or leave it to rot like the rest of his dreams.

Topaz is the closest thing to a 'friend' he has inside of the IPC. While they're hardly besties, she's at least someone he can relax around and share a few drinks with. She's not given him any reason to distrust her, but I don't think he would ever fully rely on her either.

Has played his fair share of Russian Roulette, and leaves disappointed each time he wins.

Also, are we all just going to ignore that little tidbit where they mention he was strapped to an electric chair?? I can't even begin to imagine how that fucked him up both mentally and physically.

That being said, Aventurine has a lot of self-harm and pain-seeking tendencies. I won't go into details, but when he gets low, his mind begins to spiral and he has to find something to snap him out of it or else it just gets worse and worse until he's ready to make sure that gun is fully loaded.

He's grown better about it over the years, but he will never fully be able to heal and recover. Especially not as long as he's in the hands of the IPC. Ratio is the only one who catches wind of Aventurine's self-harming tendencies, but he doesn't have a clue on how to help him, so he keeps quiet.

The brand on his neck is a source of contention. He has the money to have it removed and covered up. He hates to see it, but in the same breath, he's almost afraid to lose it. If he does, will he lose sight of his past? Where he came from? He isn't ashamed of his past, but he also doesn't like the very clear reminder of it either. Jade makes passion comments on it often, and it makes his stomach twist everytime.

Donates obscene amounts of money to children in need. He will never let a child suffer, and while he clearly can't dismantle the entire fucked up system set in place, he's bought the contracts of many child slaves and freed them anonymously. He wants to save them all, but it just isn't possible, and it's one more thing that keeps him awake at night.

[stillaclownlol]

Aiden BPD headcanonsssss because my dad is being weird and I feel weird too

(Most of these are based on my experiences living with somebody who has bpd, and maybe myself but we won't talk about that haha)

Tw for all the things bpd tends to cover (self harm, abuse, substance abuse, and suicidal ideation, brief mention of cannabis in a medical context)

-definitely a big source of trauma is his parents basically abandoning him for long stretches of time

-Prone to splitting regarding them. When they're not around its so much easier to be like "Whatever, fuck them, I don't care." But when they *are* around, they're always so affectionate, a lot of "it's not their fault they're busy", "they don't mean it", kind of thoughts...it's okay Aiden, people can still love you even if they treat you badly :/

-y'all know he's self destructive. Yall KNOW. He's been in 7 different go-kart "accidents", once broke his hip trying to impersonate Tony Hawk, and he WILL be crashing his car into a tree after binge drinking.

-Self harms as a form of stimulation sometimes. He just gets SO bored. Usually will slam his head on the nearest hard object or cut himself with his compass.

-has been to a "wellness center" (mental hospital) after an episode where when his parents were on a trip, they returned and found him catatonic on his bed, he hadn't gotten up for almost 8 weeks and his mattress was stained with urine. Not to mention he'd gotten extremely sick after eating only Ramen. Called this a "blip" and hasn't done anything like this again, but only cuz he hated the hospital so much :/

-not really good at managing his anger. He gets pissed off easily (his jaw starts clenching), but has definitely eased off with the yelling and picking a fight with the person. May say some things he may or may not regret later :/ might like kick the wall or smth too-

-his feelings of emptiness and boredom get really exacerbated when he tries to sleep, so he just doesn't sleep until he passes out from exhaustion.

-extremely rare, but if he cries its almost never the appropriate time.

-his favorite person (and I mean this in the bpd way not just the usual way) was Ben, now it's Ashlyn. She asks Ben for advice sometimes on how to understand him better. Is trying to get better, but he just wants all of her attention all the time. He could make a soliloquy of all the things he loves about her. She's the one who pushed him to go back to therapy and told him "hey, I think you have somethinh"

-Weirdly protective but in a hands off way?? Even tho he really doesn't handle himself well? He knows his friends can take care of themselves but it doesn't stop him from running through the worst case scenario. Freaks out if people are late, especially if they're punctual. Also really defensive of them, they do no wrong in his eyes (except when they do :/)

-used to push people away to avoid disappointment or abandonment, especially because they needed to move so much. All his relationships were very superficial. Ghosted people a lot.

-Has chronic pain as an adult because of all the injuries he suffered through as a kid, not to mention his shitty posture. He takes painkillers, but they leave him zoned out and with even worse insomnia so he doesn't take them a lot. Sometimes uses medicinal weed if the pain is really bad. Ash tries to help by rubbing his back, though she says she's not that useful. He always feels better afterwards tho ❤️

-Smokes if he is really stressed, but he's ashamed about it and tries not to do it too much. Picked it up after stealing some of his mom's cigarettes when he was younger.

-his inner voice is extremely negative and he is generally under the impression that everybody hates him. Tries to act like this doesn't bother him and acts like a nuisance because if everybody hates him why even bother filtering his thoughts or actions?

-why were you even born? Who'd love a screw up like you? Your own parents didn't even want you.

-rejection sensitivity and gets really depressed if he's upset one of his friends. Will usually self harm to cope because he think lashing out will make things worse and he just doesn't know what else to do.

-he loves deeply and he's fiercely loyal. He's good with children. He's a wonderful artist. And he is so very incredibly kind. His bpd does not define him as a person.

I don't know if anybody needs to hear this, but, having BPD is not a death sentence. You're not doomed to be a bad person or an abuser, and I say this as somebody who was abused by someone with BPD (my own father). People with BPD are scared, they are struggling, and most of all, they're tired. If you or somebody you care about thinks they're have bpd, try to contact a doctor or specialist and seek professional help.

I'm gonna go cry in the shower now :)

[fortheloveofwonderland]

Darkness Declares Glory | Chapter 8 | S.R

Previous Chapter

A/N - this fic deals with some very dark themes such as drug use, self-harm and suicidal ideation. Please proceed with caution and Minors DNI. There is a reader insert but it is very Spencer-centric.

Chapter Summary - Spencer devolves into an old coping mechanism. Rossi visits and shares a memory with Spencer.

Pairing - Spencer Reid / Fem! Reader

Category - dark angst | smut | eventual happy ending.

Warnings - physical therapy, vomit, extreme pain and extreme measures to relieve pain, making of a shiv, self harm, Rossi’s flashback, mentions of past drugged state, mention of Cat Adam’s and prison, track marks, withdrawals, Spencer gets desperate, violence, sedatives, swearing.

WC - 5.5k

Chapter 8 - Dear Agony

Spencer thought that compared to therapy, PT would be a breeze. Boy how wrong he was. His physical therapist, Nick, made Morgan look tiny. He was an incredibly imposing man who made Spencer feel even more insecure about himself than he already did. 

But despite his intimidating stature, he was painfully nice. He was actually not at all dissimilar to Morgan, they had comparable skin tones and facial structure and the way Nick spoke often made Spencer feel like it was Morgan talking to him. He told Spencer he couldn’t rush his recovery as much as Spencer wanted to. If he tried to push himself too hard he would do himself more harm than good. 

He made Spencer promise to be honest about his pain levels and not to get ahead of himself. But Spencer was stubborn. And he wanted out of that damn wheelchair. But Nick was trained to know when enough was enough and despite Spencer’s best effort to hide his pain, Nick saw through him. 

“I think that’s enough for today.” He smiled a little sadly at Spencer as he collapsed in his wheelchair. 

“What? No, I’m fine.” Spencer wiped the sweat from his forehead on his sweater sleeve which he refused to take off. 

“It’s fine, we’ll pick up in a couple of days and you’ll-“

“A couple of days? No, tomorrow!” Spencer whined which made Nick chuckle. 

“You’ll end up hurting yourself more if you overwork it. You took a couple of not entirely shaky steps today. That’s a start.” 

“It’s bad enough being in this place without being confined to a wheelchair. I can’t do anything by myself.” Spencer huffed. 

“You’ll get there I promise. I’m sure with your determination we can set you up with some crutches in no time. But you have to be patient, ok?” Nick shot him a stern look. 

“Urgh, fine.” Spencer rolled his eyes. 

“That’s better. Now let me take you back to your room.” 

“See, this is why I need to walk. It’s humiliating being wheeled around.” Spencer folded his arms but let Nick help him back to his room all the same. 

He managed to keep up the tough pretence until Nick left and closed the door behind him and then Spencer almost immediately vomited. He’d been at a seven in terms of pain when he spoke to Maggie. He had now reached at least nine and a half.

The pain in his leg was throbbing manically, worse than anything Spencer had ever felt before. He’d over exerted himself, he’d put on a brave face and pretended he was fine because he wanted to be able to get rid of this wheelchair. 

He suddenly vomited again and tears started streaming from his eyes as the pain consumed him. He started slamming his fists against the desk over and over again in an attempt to take his mind off the overwhelming agony somehow. He punched the wood again and again, aggravating the cuts on his knuckles but it wasn’t enough to dull the throbbing in his leg. 

He just needed to do something to distract his brain from the agonising discomfort. He rolled up his sleeve and tried to pick at the skin of his bicep but his damn nails were too short. The pain was making him crave drugs more than usual. Drugs would numb him. He needed to be numb. 

Desperation kicking in, he thought back to prison. He’d made a weapon before, he could do it again. Almost falling out of his wheelchair in exasperation to reach for his toiletry bag, he nabbed it off the floor and quickly retrieved his toothbrush. Using the desk to push his chair closer to the bed, he used the metal frame to frantically file the plastic end of the brush into a makeshift blade. 

It took longer than Spencer would have liked. The pain in his leg kept causing him to pause his actions. But eventually it was sharp enough for what he required of it. Still in his chair he quickly undid his slacks and manoeuvred them over his hips and down his thighs. Without hesitation, he stabbed the shiv into his unbandaged thigh. He growled in pain but it went some way to make him stop thinking about his gunshot wound. He stabbed himself a second time and his tears started to slow. 

He closed his eyes and took a few heavy breaths. With his brain now focused on his new injuries, he felt the pain in his right leg start to decrease. It was entirely possible it was psychosomatic, all in his head, but he didn’t care. He knew trying to stem pain by inflicting more was a dangerous and probably fruitless cycle. But it had been a long time since Spencer’s brain worked at its full capacity and in his state it made perfect sense. 

He grabbed the box of tissues from the nightstand and cleaned the blood off of the end of the toothbrush before tucking it back in his toiletry bag. He grabbed a few more tissues and applied pressure to his wounds. Maybe it was the act of hurting himself but Spencer felt like he was able to breathe again for the first time all day. He felt like he was in control of something again. And it felt really good. 

Knowing he had a way out was all Spencer needed. It was a little light shining at the end of his incredibly dark tunnel. As long as he had his shiv, he’d be ok. He barely cleaned himself up and got back into his slacks before there was a knock at the door. He quickly pocketed the bloody tissues as the doctor entered the room. 

“Are you ok?” He instantly frowned.

Spencer’s chest constricted. He couldn’t possibly know, could he? Was he covered in blood? Was he bleeding through his pants? 

“Yeah, why?” Spencer swallowed. 

“You look like you’ve been crying.” 

“Oh.” Spencer sighed in relief. “Yeah, I was in a little pain after PT is all.” Spencer shrugged, wiping his eyes on his sweater sleeve. 

“See how you get on over the next week and if you’re still in a lot of pain we can discuss upping your pain medication. But that’s a last resort, the last thing we want is-“

“Me getting hooked on another drug. Got it.” Spencer filled for him. 

“Exactly.” 

Spencer briefly wondered if even if he wasn’t still in so much pain, maybe he could pretend to be to get a higher dose of methadone. He’d take anything he could get. He’d keep that idea in his back pocket, put a pin in it for now. But it was certainly an option. 

“So you have a visitor in the day room.” Delaney spoke again when Spencer remained silent. 

“Oh. Ok.” He’d completely forgotten about that. 

“It’s been requested that we bring your chess set.” Delaney smiled and nodded to the chessboard. 

Spencer smiled a little to himself as he picked it up from the desk and placed it on his lap. There was only one person who would request they play chess. 

The pain still ebbed through both legs as Delaney wheeled Spencer and his chessboard down to the day room. He was nervous and his bouncing leg gave that away. He wanted to see his team but he was scared at what their reactions might be to his current state. 

But he needn’t have been worried. He should have known his team would always be there for him. As soon as they entered the day room, Spencer’s guest stood from the table by the window, a large smile plastered on their face. They quickly crossed the room and without thinking Spencer pushed himself up from his wheelchair and fell into the older man’s arms. 

“Kid, it’s so good to see you.” Rossi squeezed him tightly and Spencer was sure Rossi could feel just how skinny Spencer was from that hug. Maybe that had been the point. 

“Thank you for coming.” Spencer whispered before Rossi took hold of his face and kissed each of his cheeks. 

Spencer fell back to the chair once he wasn’t being held up and Delaney wheeled him the rest of the way into the room. He set the chessboard on the table before leaving Spencer and Rossi. All the other tables in the room were filled with other patients talking to their friends and family but Spencer didn’t even really notice them. 

“I’d like to say you look good but…”

“But I don’t. I’m aware.” Spencer nodded. 

“You’re in the best place for you.” Rossi gave him one of his warm smiles and Spencer wished he could believe it. 

“I guess. It doesn’t feel like it right now though.” 

“It might not do for a while, kid. But you’ve gotta get yourself clean.” 

“I only wish I wanted to.” Spencer’s hands retreated up his sleeves and snapped at his rubber band. 

Rossi took the advantage and moved one of his chess pieces. 

“Emily says that you’re missing some time?” Rossi spoke while Spencer moved his own piece, keeping his hands still firmly hidden away. 

It was a comfort thing as well as the fact he didn’t want to explain the cuts on his knuckles to Rossi. 

“Quite a lot of time. I’m hoping as the drugs leave my system it might come back to me.” 

Rossi moved another pawn with a sad expression on his features. 

“You were pretty messed up the last time I saw you.” He sighed. 

“W-when was that?” Spencer shuffled another chess piece. 

“Uh…I guess around a year ago? Give or take a few months.” 

“Can you tell me about it? I don’t think I remember.” Spencer snapped the rubber band again. 

“I don’t know if that’s a good idea, Reid.” Rossi scratched the back of his head.

“Please, Dave? I’ve got to start piecing my life back together.” 

Rossi moved another pawn before placing his hands flush on the table. 

“Fine.” He sighed. “I was leaving a bar near DuPont Circle one night, musta been around two in the morning. And then I saw this mess of hair stumbling down the street in the opposite direction…”

“Reid? Reid? Spencer, is that you?” Rossi slung his jacket over his shoulder and speed walked towards the disorientated looking man.  “Spencer?” 

The man he thought to be his old team member was stumbling and falling against walls, tripping on his own two feet. When he reached him, he cautiously put his hand on the man’s shoulder, causing him to tense and whip around so fast he almost lost his footing.

Rossi steadied him and caught the glazed over gaze of Spencer Reid. 

“Kid, are you ok?” Rossi’s heart leapt into his throat. 

His pupils were pin pricks, barely visible surrounded by his dark irises. His chapped lips were parted slightly in confusion and there was a small amount of what Rossi assumed to be vomit collected at the corners. Spencer stared at him as though he were a complete stranger. 

“Spencer?” Rossi swallowed. “Are you ok?” 

Spencer squinted at him but Rossi saw no sign of recognition behind his eyes.

“Kid it’s me, Rossi.” 

Spencer blinked a few times, trying to focus his eyes on the man in front of him. It took several long minutes before he started nodding. 

“Rossi.” He whispered. “Rossi, hi.” 

“Where are you off to, kid?” 

Spencer looked around, left then right, as if trying to work it out. He looked back at Rossi.

“Home?” He didn’t sound sure. 

“You live miles from here. You were planning on walking?” Rossi watched Spencer’s face scrunched in confusion. 

“I…I don’t know.” 

“Let me take you back to my place. We’ll get coffee and you can have a good night's sleep.” 

“What about Y/N?” Spencer swayed on his feet. 

“Uh…” Rossi scratched the back of his head, looking around as if might find someone else hiding in the shadows.“There’s no one else here, Reid.” 

That prompted Spencer to look around again, slightly more frantically this time. 

“She was…she was here…” he frowned deeply. 

“Let’s get you off the street, kiddo.” Rossi gently took hold of his arm and guided him down the street to the corner where taxis were converging. 

Rossi helped Spencer into the back seat and slid in after him, giving the driver his address. Spencer leant his head against the window and stared out at the passing street lamps. Rossi watched him intently. It was clear to Rossi the second he saw his constricted pupils that he was high. The team had their suspicions for a while that he might be using again but they’d buried their heads in the sand. 

No one was surprised when Spencer decided to leave the BAU when he got out of prison. They were heartbroken over it, but not surprised. Cat Adam’s had destroyed his life. He’d had to do things in prison to stay alive, things so awful he couldn’t trust himself to be an FBI Agent anymore. 

Rossi wished he’d tried harder to stay in contact with him. Would it have made a difference? If they’d been there for him could they have prevented this? But the sad truth was, Spencer was broken long before prison. He’d dealt with so much trauma in his short life that it didn’t seem fair. Prison had just pushed him over the edge. He’d finally taken enough blows from life to take him out of the ring.

Spencer didn’t say a word the whole journey. He kept his eyes trained out of the window although Rossi wasn’t sure if he was actually able to focus on anything. When the cab finally pulled up in Rossi’s expansive driveway, Spencer practically fell out of the back door and onto the concrete. Rossi helped him up and guided him with an arm around his shoulder towards the house. 

He took him through to the kitchen and sat him in one of the stools at the breakfast bar while he brewed some strong coffee. When he turned back to look at him, Spencer had rolled the sleeve of his shirt up, showcasing all of Rossi’s fears. The track marks glowed against his pale skin, purples and reds decorating the crook of his arm and making Rossi’s stomach turn. His long, nimble fingers scratched at the skin of his forearm and Rossi placed his hand gently on top of his to still him. 

“You’re going to hurt yourself.” He whispered and Spencer’s eyes shot up.

“H-how did I get here?” Spencer’s brows knitted together. “W-where is here?” 

Rossi rolled Spencer’s sleeve back down and buttoned the cuff, hoping to stem his scratching while he made coffee. 

“You’re at my house. We just got out of a cab.” He placed the scalding mug in front of Spencer and he immediately picked it up and downed the liquid almost in one. 

If it had burnt him on its way down, Spencer didn’t show it. 

“What were you up to tonight, kid?” Rossi asked him. 

Spencer looked confused again, as though trying to pull at some far off memory. 

“I…I don’t know.” He shook his head, tapping his fingers against the granite countertop. 

“You’re high aren’t you?” 

“Very much so.” Spencer smiled dreamily. 

Rossi pushed his own mug away, deciding Spencer needed to sleep this off. He helped the younger man off the stool and upstairs to one of his guest rooms. 

“Get some rest. We’ll talk in the morning, ok?” He backed towards the door after settling Spencer on the bed. 

“Hmm.” Spencer mumbled, burying his face into the plush pillow. 

He was still fully dressed on top of the covers as Rossi watched his eyes start to close. He hated himself at that moment, hated that they could have let it get this far. He closed the door quietly and trudged to his own room, formulating a plan of how best to deal with this in the morning.

“Needless to say you weren’t there in the morning.” Rossi sighed sadly, moving another chess piece. 

“I…I don’t remember that.” Spencer’s skin had paled and there was sweat beading down the side of his face. He had his arms wrapped around himself and was squeezing his sides, a far off look in his eyes. 

“You ok, kid?”

“Hmm.” Spencer frowned, jaw clenching. “I’m uh…I’m in a lot of…p-p…” he trailed off, turned his head to the side and vomited over the floor. 

Rossi shot up so fast his head spun. 

“Pain. In a lot of pain.” Spencer finished, wiping his mouth with his sleeve. 

His body was suddenly wracked with tremors and Rossi had to pretend he wasn’t completely terrified and focus on helping Spencer. 

“Let’s get you back to your room.” Rossi quickly gathered up the chess set before hurriedly wheeling Spencer to his room, Spencer directing him through groans of pain. 

Just as he got Spencer inside his room, Delaney rushed towards them. 

“Is everything ok?” Delaney looked between Rossi and Spencer. 

“He’s in a lot of pain. Step outside with me Doctor.” Rossi motioned him back towards the door before looking at Spencer over his shoulder. “I’ll be back in a minute kid, ok?” 

Spencer was doubled over in his wheelchair but Rossi saw the nod of his head. Rossi and Delaney stepped out into the corridor, closing the door behind them. 

“What are you doing for his pain? He’s in agony.” Rossi frowned at the doctor. 

“He’s on a dose of methadone. It’s still early days, they take a while to kick in.” Delaney folded his arms over his chest. 

“He needs a stronger dose! Look at him!” Rossi pointed through the window of the door. 

Delaney sighed, unfolding his arms and slotting his hands into the pockets of his white coat. 

“He’s a drug addict, Mister Rossi.” 

“I’m aware.” Rossi’s frown deepened. 

“We find patients often exaggerate their pain in an attempt to get more meds. It’s a classic addict tactic.” 

“You think he’s faking?” Rossi sounded outraged. 

“You think he isn’t?” 

“I’ve known the kid for over ten years. He’s been hurt before in the field, but he’s never batted an eyelid. For him to admit he’s in pain, means he’s in pain.” Rossi growled. 

“I’m sorry Mister Rossi but I’ve seen it hundreds of times before. We’ll continue to monitor him but for now he remains on his current dose, at least until it has a chance to work.” Delaney told him sternly.

“I’ll have your medical licence revoked.”

“I’d like to see you try.” Delaney rolled his eyes. “I’ve been dealing with patients like Doctor Reid my entire working career. Trust me when I say I know what I’m doing.” 

Delaney’s pager buzzed in his pocket and pulled it out to check it. 

“I’m sorry but I have to go. I promise you, he’ll be fine. You have to trust the process.” And with that Delaney was heading away. 

Rossi took a few deep breaths to calm himself before reentering Spencer’s room. He had no idea that Spencer had heard the entire conversation. He glanced up through watery eyes at Rossi who smiled sadly at him. 

“Let’s get you into bed, kid.” Rossi helped him up and sat him on the edge of the bed, before slipping his converse off for him. 

He guided Spencer back to the mattress. 

“Do you want to take your sweater off?”

“N-no.” Spencer croaked. “I’m g-good.” 

“Try to get some rest ok, kid? Sleep will help.” 

“Rossi,” Spencer croaked again. “I need someone to call Y/N. I need to see her.” 

Rossi’s face was a near mirror image of Emily’s when he’d mentioned your name to her. It was an expression Spencer simply couldn’t give a name to.

“You need to focus on yourself right now, Spencer.” 

“But I-“

“Focus on yourself. Once you’re feeling better we can go down that particular rabbit hole.” Rossi reached out and gave Spencer’s shoulder a soft squeeze. “Get some rest and I’ll see you soon, ok?” 

Spencer simply nodded and watched Rossi retreat out of the room. Seconds later he saw a nurse through the window of his door and heard the door being locked. He lazily manoeuvred himself to pull the sheet over his body and tugged it up to his neck. 

Under the covers he rolled up his sleeve and withdrew the shiv sheathed inside. He fell asleep whilst flicking his thumb repeatedly over the sharp instrument. 

***

Spencer found himself surrounded by a thick fog. It was so thick he swore he was in the clouds. If he believed in heaven, he might think that’s where he was. 

His legs started moving without him having the forethought to do so. He waded through the haze with no idea of where he was going. Until he saw the familiar back of a head. He felt himself breathe for the first time in a long time as he approached you from behind. 

“I’ve been looking everywhere for you, Spencer.” You spoke without turning around. 

“I’m sorry, my love.” As he got closer to you, you seemed to get further away. “They threw me in this godforsaken place. I tried to get them to call you but they wouldn’t listen.” 

Each step forward he took you seemed to get one more step out of reach. 

“You know why that is, don’t you, Spence?” 

“No I don’t. Tell me.” He begged, picking up his pace but you still continued moving farther away. 

“Your team doesn't get me, Spencer. They don’t understand.” 

“That’s not true. They love you.” 

“Your memories are failing you.” You giggled and it melted Spencer’s heart. 

He’d missed that sound, missed everything about you. He wanted to hold you in his arms. 

“Please stop moving. I need to see you, need to touch you.” 

“You better hurry up then.” You giggled again. 

He started to run, desperate to catch up with you before you faded away. Any chance he had to be with you, even in his dreams, he would take. Finally he reached for you and found your shoulder, quickly spinning you around to face him. But his hand quickly dropped to his side and he gasped at the sight in front of him. 

All of your features looked as though they had melted from your face. Everything that made you you was gone. You were a completely blank face, skin and nothing more. 

“W-what’s going on?” Spencer felt tears behind his eyes. 

“I told you, your memories are failing you.” You spoke but you had no mouth for the words to come from. 

“I’m forgetting you.” A tear crept from his eye. 

“I’m afraid so.” 

“No, no! I can’t! I won’t!” 

“It’s already happening, Spencer. Look at me, you can’t remember my face.” 

“How do I remember? I need to remember.” More tears fell and he sniffed loudly. 

“I can’t help you with that. You have to figure it out yourself.” You shrugged your shoulders. 

“I need to see you again. I need to get someone to call you and I need to see you. I won’t forget you Y/N, I swear.” He sniffed again.

You raised your hand to his face and cupped his cheek. 

“You’ll be better off once I’m gone, Spencer. You need to rid yourself of my memories and forget about me.” 

“No.” He shook his head. “No way. I’ll never forget about you.” 

“Sweetheart, you already are.” You dropped your hand to your side and stepped backwards. 

“Please Y/N, tell me what I need to do!” He sobbed as you turned your back on him again. 

Without your legs moving, you started getting further away again. 

“Y/N! Y/N! Please, wait!” He screamed after you. 

“Let go of your memories Spencer, they’re only holding you back.” Your voice filled the space around him and then you were fading slowly until you disappeared entirely. 

Spencer fell to his knees in the fog and sobbed loudly and frantically into his hands. When he removed his hands from his face they were coated in red. He patted under his eyes and realised it wasn’t tears rolling down his cheeks. 

It was blood. 

***

He awoke with a start at the sound of the door opening. He was panting and sweating, clutching the shiv in his hand beneath the sheet. 

“Good morning.” A young, female nurse wheeled in the medicine tray. “How are you feeling this morning?”

She was too chipper and it instantly grated on Spencer. He remembered Garcia being like that, always too perky for the early hours of the morning. He found it hard to cope with her joyous nature until he’d flooded his body with caffeine. He shuffled up a little in the bed, eyes locked on the small cups of medication on the trolley. He needed those drugs. Those drugs were the only thing that was going to help him. 

When the nurse moved closer to his bed with his two measly pills, he snapped. He slapped the cup out of her hand and darted up to his feet, adrenaline coursing so wildly through his veins he didn’t notice the pain it caused. 

“I need more.” He spoke through a clenched jaw. 

“I’m sorry but that’s not going to happen.” She stayed calm, clearly she was used to this. 

Spencer let the shiv slide into his hand and he brushed his thumb over the point. 

“Yes, it is.” He spat. 

“I’m sorry Doctor Reid but you will have to make do with-“ 

In one swift move he edged even closer to her and jabbed the sharp end of the shiv towards her throat. 

“Give me the medication!” He screamed at her. 

She whimpered as the point of the homemade blade dug into her flesh. 

“Please, put that down.” Her voice quaked. 

“Not until you give me what I want.” Spencer growled, not yet piercing her skin. He hoped it wouldn’t come to that. 

He was so hyper focused on the medication he hadn’t noticed the nurse slip her hand in her pocket and set off the panic alarm. As he shoved her back against the wall, pressing the shiv harder against her, the door flew open. Everything happened at breakneck speed. 

Two very large men descended on the room, each grabbing one of Spencer’s arms and throwing him back to the bed. One of the men pinned him down while Spencer screamed and kicked and waved the shiv around wildly. At some point it was dislodged from his hand and then his sleeve was being rolled up to his bicep. 

“No! Stop it! Just give me the drugs!” He yelled, writhing in the bed but the large set of arms held him in place. 

He knew what was coming before he felt the prick of the needle on the crook of his arm. It was only a matter of seconds before he lost consciousness as the sedative made fast work of traversing his veins. 

***

The sedative stopped him from dreaming and he didn’t know if he was grateful or not for that. When he did wake, he had absolutely no idea what time it was. Had he slept all day? Had he slept longer than a day? A few hours? Minutes? He had no clue. 

He wasn’t restrained but he knew the door would be locked like always. There was no point restraining him when he couldn’t go anywhere anyway. His leg throbbed from the pressure he’d put on it when he’d attacked that poor nurse. As the memory came flooding back to him, he was filled with remorse. 

Just when Spencer didn’t think he could possibly sink any lower, he had. His desperation for drugs was turning him into something he thought he’d never be. He probably terrified that young woman. She was just doing her job and Spencer had probably traumatised her. 

What the fuck is happening to me? 

He wasn’t sure how long he laid there in a self-pity spiral before he heard the door unlocking. He glanced up to see a tentative looking Maggie slowly entering his room. 

“Delaney wanted me to come and see you. Thought it best you stayed in your room today.” 

Spencer shuffled up the pillows and gratefully accepted the two pills he hadn’t gotten this morning from her. He tossed them back before she’d even handed him the water. 

“Can we talk about what happened this morning?” She took a seat in the desk chair, notebook and pen in hand. 

“I needed drugs.” He shrugged. “I am a drug addict after all.” 

“You fashioned a weapon out of a toothbrush?” She scribbled down some notes.

“Not the first time. I learnt how to do that in prison. It’s really easy if you know how.” The remorse he’d felt had been fleeting, now vanished entirely. 

He didn’t necessarily feel good about what he’d done but he knew he wouldn’t hesitate in doing it again if it meant he got his fix. 

“You made a weapon to attack a nurse with?” Maggie narrowed her eyes on him.

“No.” Spencer shook his head. “I made a weapon to attack myself with.” 

Subconsciously he glanced down at his thigh that was shielded by the bedsheets. 

“You hurt yourself?” 

“Yes.” 

“I need to take a look.” She stood from the chair but Spencer curled in on himself. 

“No.” He batted her hand away when she tried to reach for him. 

“Spencer I might be a therapist but I am an MD. I’ve worked in hospitals and I need to look at your wound.” She tried to calm him. “If you don’t cooperate I can always sedate you again.” 

Spencer clenched his jaw. He didn’t relish the idea of being sedated and forced to sleep again. Cautiously he rolled the sheet down and undid his slacks. He lifted his hips a little so he could wiggle them down just enough to reveal the two stab wounds in his thigh. Maggie sighed as she looked at them, red and angry and covered in dried blood. 

“I’m going to go and get a first aid kit. Sit tight.” She told him. 

“Not like I can go anywhere.” He groaned. 

He rested his head back against the pillows and stared at the ceiling until Maggie returned. He kept his eyes focused on the tiles above his head while she cleaned up his wounds and placed dressings over them. He clenched and unclenched his hands inside his sweater sleeves by way of dealing with the pain. As soon as she was done he didn’t bother pulling his pants back up, just quickly covered himself back up with the sheet. 

Maggie took a seat again and scribbled some more notes. 

“What happened?”

“I already told you. I needed drugs.” 

“But why?” 

“Because I’m a drug addict.” What wasn’t she understanding about this? 

“What happened to make you think attacking a nurse was warranted to get drugs?” 

“Nothing happened.” He frowned and then, “life happened.”

Maggie quickly made a few more notes before focusing back on Spencer. 

“I can’t imagine how hard drug addiction is to deal with Spencer. I’ve spent years listening to patients recount it but I’ve never lived it myself so I can’t pretend to know what you’re going through. But you have to communicate with me. Once you're back on your feet we’re going to start from the beginning. Childhood, your family, everything. And we’ll slowly work our way to the present day, piecing everything together along the way, ok?” 

“You ask me like I actually have a choice.” He scoffed.

“You do have a choice.” Maggie capped her pen and closed the notebook. “You can commit to this program, to your recovery, a hundred percent. You can get better and go on to lead a full and happy life. Or you can fight it. You can give up on yourself before you’ve even taken your first step. You can decide to turn your nose up at all the opportunities you have here, all the wonderful people who have the expertise to help you. You can choose not to get help and continue to get high and destroy your life. 

I can promise you Spencer that if you choose the latter, your addiction will kill you one way or another. Maybe not today or tomorrow but it will kill you. And I don’t think you really want that. I don’t think you’re ready to die even though you say you are. I think deep down you want to keep fighting to the bitter end. You want to kick this habit and you want to be well again. So if you choose to let us help you, we will do everything in our power to help you fight this. But you have to want it, or we’re all just wasting our time.” 

Spencer watched in confusion as she pushed herself up from the chair and hurried to the door. 

She didn’t give him a chance to reply before she was leaving, locking the door behind her and letting him stew on her words. 

Next Chapter

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[my-autism-adhd-blog]

Hi, if you don't answer questions of this nature that's completely fine but I really like your slide shows and feel like they represent how I think and feel and was wondering if you can offer some advice. I had a small meltdown over a cooking mishap and when I verbalized that for the first time as im trying to really advocate for my needs more, my sister (who means well but doesn't really get it) tried comparing it to spirals she gets when her anxiety spikes in an attempt to help me out of it. I have depression so I know what spiraling feels like and I know my meltdowns are nothing like that but I was too upset to explain the difference to her and her trying to tell me that I'll eventually find a way to just get better at pushing through it when I told her I need to let it come and pass just frustrated me more and made me unable to speak for the rest of the night even when I felt better. In short, do you have any tips for explaining autistic meltdowns to allistic people? I know it'll happen again so I know I'll need to explain myself and would appreciate any advice you can provide or resources of yours you could point me to. Thank you.

Hi there,

I found a few articles that might help. According to the first article:

In autistic adults, meltdowns are also a complete loss of control of behavior but that looks very different. In adults, it can look like crying, yelling, lashing out, suicidal ideation, self-harm, inability to talk, lack of ability to think, or rage.

According to research by Phung et al. (2022), autistic adults describe feeling out of control and they feel this with their entire body. They describe having blurry vision, muscles getting hot, cheeks getting warm, and shoulders bunched up. They have a diminished ability to think and sometimes difficulty finding words or remembering basic things. Autistic adults describe feeling completely out of control like everything is fuzzy.

Phung et al. (2022) also describes a stage called burnout, which can proceed meltdown in which the autistic person begins to feel fatigued, overwhelmed, slowed down, and has difficulty with cognition. This is a period where continued pressure and overwhelming sensory and emotional stress begin to erode the autistic person’s ability to function and perform daily tasks. Encouraging autistic people to decrease emotional and sensory pressure at this point can prevent meltdowns.

The Autism Research Institute reports that meltdown is caused by central nervous system overload in autistic people. Recent research shows that autistic people have neurons that are more hyperconnected than neurotypicals. This explains why it is so much easier to overwhelm autistic people. Autistic people’s sensory systems are very different and when things are overwhelming, this can result in complete meltdown.

The article will be below:

According to this article:

Meltdowns are often the result of situations which are highly stimulating or create high levels of anxiety which feel like they can't be escaped. When someone is in this situation their reaction is either flight, fight or freeze. If the person cannot escape that leaves two options: either fight or freeze. 

Meltdowns are similar to the fight response. 

When an autistic person is having a meltdown they often have increased levels of anxiety and distress which are often interpreted as frustration, a 'tantrum' or an aggressive panic attack. 

It's important to understand that meltdowns are not 'temper tantrums'. They are a reaction to a highly distressing situation or environment. 

While in a meltdown a person can be injurious to others or themselves because of the extreme state of anxiety their body is in. That's why it's really important to minimise the risk of this happening - both for the person and those around them. 

Meltdowns are very physically tiring and emotionally draining for the individual. This is because the person has been in a distressing situation and has had a highly adrenalised and emotionalised response. 

The article will be below:

I hope this helps. Thank you for the inbox. I hope you have a wonderful day/night. ♥️

[outeremissary]

break and secret for Balthazar and Kasander?👀

Thanks for the question, and sorry for the delay!! These are things I can go on for ages about for most characters, haha. Personal limits and private experiences are essential in some way to me when thinking through characters. Even though I tried to keep this under control it still got really long... it's under a cut for that and the umm. Content warnings.

CW: mentions of disordered eating, self harm, suicidal ideation, and suicide

[prompt list]

break: What would cause your OC to break down completely? What do they look like when that happens? Has anyone ever seen them at their lowest?

Balthazar

For Balthazar, total breakdown is the result of being completely, inescapably trapped, especially when it shows a harsh limit on what he's able to do or be. As it is, he already sees his bounds in everything. In his mind he's always struggling through them to live the life he wants rather than what he feels the world is fencing him in to. He knows that he's weak and there's a limit to what he can control. He also knows that he's choosing something with his life that destroys his value in the eyes of others. Still, he needs to believe that he can play past the point where he should have to quit, that his cruel and self-isolating exercises in agency will give him control even if there's no other reward.

At his lowest, Balthazar shuts down near completely. He's been shown that there's nothing that can be gained by fighting; thus, the fight leaves him. He's lethargic, unresponsive, and pliant. To point to a specific incident: when his wings developed and shackled him to the inescapable image of his heritage he withdrew into himself for weeks, avoiding being in the public eye and doing nothing more than the minimum to maintain the illusion of control over his domain- and struggling to do even that. But the withdrawal felt like all he could do to assert control over his body and to shield himself from seeing the extent to which the carefully maintained narrative of himself had escaped him. It was a self-pitying, self-punishing period of neglect. He did very little beyond function. Near the beginning he stopped looking after himself more or less completely. He also stopped eating, something common to his deepest lows but made more intense by the awareness of how the wings merely existing had changed his appetite, the way they ate up energy. He interacted with them only to try to find ways to crush them down to be less visible, or to idly pick at neglected feathers. More than anything, he avoided the people who knew and cared for him. It seemed like the ugliest indignity to be seen in that state. The thought of being pitied made him nauseous.

Still, he's never seemed to have the dignity of suffering alone during any breakdown he's had in his life. No matter how he tries to isolate himself his worst moments always seem to be seen, and sometimes they've been taken advantage of as well. There's a nasty spiral to being shown how much further he can fall when he already feels helpless. He was lucky in this one though: for the most part, it was only the concerned and supportive interacting with him (except Lander, as typical for the rat). And Jaethal, who was instrumental in pressing him back into his daily tasks, wasn't one for pity- that abrasive appeal to his pride did a lot to pull him out of the state. Although she did enlist some help in following through on the more menial or overly sensitive tasks: for a time afterwards, Tristian was in charge of making sure he was eating.

Kasander

So: Kasander is an Oath of the Ancients paladin, the oath most focused on love of life and defense of its sanctity. Light, joy, life. Everything that Bhaal exists to destroy, and that Bhaal made them to snuff out. And you have to understand that Kas takes 1) takes this ungodly seriously and 2) has an extremely radical interpretation of what their oath means. Kasander is a reckless savior. Their mercy can easily be as destructive as their violence. Without very immediate threat they hate to destroy even for a greater good, not while there's still some foolish hope that somehow, the situation will turn around. Kasander has lost their oath three times over the course of BG3 and every time it has been because they've strained the concept of mercy to the breaking point: refused to kill what was lethal, refused to destroy what was tormented. And they're not exactly doing a lot of follow-through here. They hate to control others as much as they hate to condemn them. Their mercy is unconditional. They'll turn around and wait until you're gone- do whatever you want after that. To them, this is what it means to shelter life and see value in it. To just keep offering and offering. To hope against hope and against reason. It isn't as if they're naive, not really. But they're stubborn anyway. And on top of that, they don't want to pass judgment that they know would condemn them. Whatever chance they've been given they have no right to withhold.

To me, Kasander is kind of incorruptible, but that's what can destroy them: they're holding themself and the world to a standard that just isn't possible. They believe too fervently, too uncompromisingly. They're trying to be too good for good, too kind to be kind. And when the world pushes back and tells them no, that's not an answer they can accept. It's not about realism. It's about rejection. Breaking their oath over attempted mercy is being told that their best intentions and all their attempts to overcome everything the world has tried to make them still aren't enough. It makes them feel fundamentally broken. Too dirty to be saved. Far too dirty to save others.

Their lowest points are born out of that conflict between their radical idealism and their oath (or reality at large) more than the direct influence of the Urge (or actions of their siblings). In the game itself, their lowest point was probably the first time they lost their oath. In the same short period they'd endured Alfira's death, had accidentally killed innocents for Ethel, had been called a monster by people they wanted to save and accidentally killed some of the victims they tried to rescue, and when they finally thought they could do one good thing for Mayrina by putting control over her future in her hands and letting her choose what to do about her husband, that was the thing that finally shattered their oath. How much crueler could anything get? Even their attempts at atonement were too monstrous to be accepted. And there's no such thing as a private low- not with Bhaal watching, waiting for them to break completely.

In their total breakdown, they backslide more or less completely into despair. They succumb to self-destructive behavior without the hope of repairing a situation, and they're often driven by the influence, passive or active, of parts of their internal system which are already inclined to shame and self-punishment. Bride in particular holds sway in these moments: though Bride doesn't mean it with any ill will, they see suffering in everything, and they want to find accountability through self-harm and release through death. For Bride, hope is unreliable, and the hard reality is that only extreme solutions can work. It was somewhere in the halfway point between Kasander drowning in their own misery and Bride's desires to save them all from pain that they committed suicide by goading Astarion into killing them while feeding. Their death didn't stick- Shadowheart "rescued" them immediately after finding out, and they wallowed in the guilt of knowing that Astarion almost paid the price for their choices.

Though not characteristic of that particular incident, it's also not uncommon for them to withdraw very quickly and instinctually inside themself, causing someone else to switch to front. In response to distress this is usually Bride, who resolves the situation through self-punishment, or Asperia, who resolves it by lashing out. The things that cause Kasander pain don't often get to Asperia. Asperia is good at going beyond Kasander's limits. Whatever the results, withdrawing gives Kas time to calm down and return to something different.

secret: What's one secret your OC never wants anyone to know about them?

Balthazar

There are a lot of things Balthazar hates to have people know about him, but some of his worst moments and deepest weaknesses have been ripped from him against his will and laid bare to the world. It gives him a strange relationship with personal secrets- most of what he doesn't want known is already out there somewhere. He's used to living in a constant state of damage control. Leaving Absalom gave him a blank slate though, and in many ways he doesn't want others to know anything at all about who he was or what his life was like before he crossed the Inner Sea and went north. As much as it makes him feel cut off from a past he mourns, he feels it's best to hide as much of it as possible through avoidance, vague answers, and lies.

In terms of more specific things though... one thing that he managed to keep from spreading too outside his immediate home neighborhood was information about his mother and about his father's relationship with her. Even before his aasimar heritage had manifested, he knew what it was like to have people look right through him, searching for someone else. He never knew much about her himself because of the way she disappeared, but speculation about her hung over his early childhood and haunted his relationship with his father. He never discusses her willingly. When people ask about his mother he tends to say that she died in childbirth, elaborating occasionally some sickly sweet additional details. His father's fiance, you see. She was young and frail, but they were in love, you understand. A beloved presence and a dearly missed one. All lies, but what a wonder a banal family sob story does for shutting down questions. Anything to stop people seizing on the knowledge she could be alive out there somewhere and thinking she ought to be found. There's no one he has less desire to know more about.

But if there was one thing he wishes he could turn into a secret that he'll never be able to, it would be his aasimar heritage.

Kasander

Despite the fact that Kasander is a painfully honest person and a chronic oversharer, there are still many things they don't want anyone to ever know about them, or to not know the extent of. It's the burden of being a Bhaalspawn: the visions, the acts, the private battles, the lapses... And more than anything, I think that Kasander doesn't ever want anyone to know how much they have suffered over the course of their life. Even Kas can't truly grasp it- like Asperia, they had very few memories before around age 9 even prior to the Tadpole Incident. And after that point there were still always long periods of patchiness. Sometimes scraps from those periods drift through when they trance, and there are dark memories they understand are bound up in the others and can't be accessed by them.

What they remember they still don't want to share. They hate for their pain, past or present, to be a burden on others and find the reactions other people have to it distressing. They know that they've experienced terrible things and that few people can understand that, and they don't want to be hurt again by others denying their experiences, downplaying them, or misinterpreting them. With most of the party members distress and pushback seem to be the norm- it's made them reluctant to confide in anyone outside themself. It also feels like they've failed other people when just talking about their past with others seems to hurt them. Jaheira is the only consistently safe person, and they're thankful beyond words for her, especially after many of their memories were restored. It's hard to imagine continuing to just push through without processing, but they couldn't process all of that alone.

There's another element to past hurt as well though: not all of it belongs to them, and that vulnerable part of the other alters is too sacred to violate by sharing even through implication. Concealing their past- their shared past- is an act of protection so natural they don't even think about it.

[system-of-a-feather]

(CW: Talk of suicide, suicidal ideation, self harm, homicidal ideation; expressing complex feelings about recovery from some parts that were deeply traumatized and deeply volatile)

(Reblogs and comments are turned off)

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White = Feathers speaking as Feathers

Green = Feathers speaking for Part A

Pink = Feathers speaking for Part B

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Honestly, speaking for one of the very traumatized and lonely parts of myself, but a juxtaposing thought I have every now and again with the place I am in recovery, is that I feel sad and loss over being stable, over having mostly recovered, over the reality that I don't think I'll really be needing inpatient extensive mental health care unless something really bad happens. We're happy, we are satisfied, we are stable and we are pretty sturdy. Life is good and that's awesome, but I know a large part of myself as a kid just really wanted someone, anyone in the world to really acknowledge that I was EXTREMELY suffering, EXTREMELY struggling, and EXTREMELY unwell and to give me a space that I could be completely unwell, a complete mess, and still be completely taken care of

And to a large degree, we recognize part of the reason that has never happened to us, is partially because we don't / can't express that even if we wanted to due to a combination of trauma and autism, so it isn't as though people DON'T want to help or support or play that role, but we don't exactly make it possible either and for the most part, we've made peace with that being our current state and that it might be our forever state should therapy avenues not pan out

But to some of our parts, particularly the more previously volatile and traumatized parts that were by far detatched from reality and stuck in trauma space, the idea of having a complete, extreme, and overt mental breakdown - either attempting to kill ourselves or someone else - was the only way we could possibly make it so anyone would ever really acknowledge or understand the pain and struggle they were going through and lately, with the stability largely even reaching them, there's been a lot of grief over the reality that those parts are acknowledging that they are loosing the ability to have that much of an extreme mental breakdown anymore.

And of course, logically and cognitively and as a whole, I know that should be something that is celebrated; but explicitly in the mental space of those parts, it feels like such a deep and extreme loss. It feels as though they have to forfeit their life long need and desire to have their pain and hurt not only acknowledged, but also met with gentle kindness, warmth, and space to be unapologetically and overtly mentally ill without loosing support - whether that support be clinical or personal relationships. It's accepting that the sort of support and acknowledgement of pain that they saw other mentally ill peers growing up getting is something we will probably never be able to experience.

We've never been able to look mentally ill to the public. We've never been able to have a mental breakdown and have people really truly realize and acknowledge how much we were going through. We've never really felt like people really ever worried about us and for those parts, I think that's all they really ever actually wanted; was for people to actually pay attention and worry about us for once.

And another part in that cluster is getting heated at the POTENTIAL comments (often from white people, in their own specification they insist on having) that this sounds like "Oh I wish I was more mentally ill" or "I wish I could be so unwell I was put into inpatient care" or "This is implying you can control when you are mentally ill and its insensitive because people who end up there cant!!!" and its really NOT like that and those statements and ways of thinking hurt, are insensitive in their own sense, and culturally deaf because our inability to unmask any of our mental illness was ALSO not a choice and heavily influenced by Asian American cultural pressures, Allistic social / societal pressures, and intergenerational trauma.

It's not that we were never "that dysregulated that we couldn't control it being expressed and thus ended up in any of those situations", its that culturally, societally, and trauma-wise, showing any of that was felt as worse than death, because it would be a slow, painful and miserable death either over the course of weeks to years, but it would lock in a long and doomed life; and so expressing any level of suicidality or mental illness was akin to already failing a suicide attempt to someone who ACTIVELY wanted to die and to someone who ACTIVELY had very very detailed plans to make sure that if / when we tried to kill ourselves, that NO ONE would be able to stop us or save us.

And if I'm honest, I still remember the specifics and the details on how it would be done, because we went over it so fucking much in our early youth and teen years.

I guess in that sense, that corner of our parts had very conflicting desires. One part deeply, deeply, deeply wanted everyone to see what they were experiencing and to acknowledge, support, and help them. Another part deeply, deeply, deeply did not believe anything good would come from that and the only way to get relief from what they were experiencing would be to end ourselves in a way that no one would be able to stop once the ball was moving.

And I guess at the core of it, I think that might be a large reason we can't express things. To some degree, I think expressing or letting anyone know we have issues and struggle, would be slightly thwarting and lowering the chances that a "perfect suicide" could be pulled off. The more people who acknowledge that get the opportunity to notice we are suffering, the more people that will be vigilant to keep us from doing it.

And thinking about how those two parts are / were very much distinct parts in a subsystem we were much more unfamiliar with, I kind of do see how and where those two juxtaposing parts diverged. How one part became very sad, lonely, self loathing, and in pain; while the other grew hostile, "kindly" aggressive, homicidal, misanthropic, and hauntingly gleeful.

The former wanted little more than to have someone give them intensive care and help them live when they couldn't do it anymore.

The latter wanted little more than to express their suffering and hurt and pain in the only way that was safe and minimized their further suffering; ie one singular quick expression of it all that no one could intervene on and that we wouldn't be around to deal with the repercussion / reactions of.

In the end, we wanted to be acknowledged and recognized so much that we COULD not die before experiencing it at least once and so we could not do the "perfect suicide"; but we also wanted to die in a way no one could stop and so we could never let anyone notice what we were going through.

And so, in the end result, no one got what they wanted. No one got to be acknowledged and recognized and supported by expressing the struggle in a non-certain-lethal manner that would get the attention of others, but also, we never got to actually kill ourselves in our young "perfect suicide"

And so now, that both don't really have it in them anymore to be run by that pain and hurt, they both just sit here, grieving that they never will get to be acknowledged (at least to the level and extreme and intensive care) for the extent of their old childhood suffering AND will never be able to pull off their "perfect suicide". Unintentionally, the two were in stand off for so long that we actually recovered SO much without doing either, and now we aren't really in a position to do either, and it makes both of them... honestly sad as it was something both had become so deeply consumed and driven by that it's just... sad.

And I don't want this to be mistaken. We aren't suicidal or in crisis or anything right now. As much as I can feel both end's grief and hear their contemplation on "reversing our healing" and intentionally self sabotaging to get a chance to meet what either end always wanted, I am (and honestly? even those parts on their own) very capable to hearing, feeling, and acknowledging those feelings / desires / thoughts / hurt / grief and hold space to think and feel and express it while ALSO acknowledging that any of the actual suggestions listed thus far are not in line or conducive to the relief of suffering that underlies BOTH of their wishes.

I was just hearing that internal talk in the corner of my head and wanted to offer to sit with it for a bit and give it some space to express since I've heard it appearing every now and again and assume it to be the best way that they could alert me to them needing support from the more unified whole.

And honestly, I'm glad to be able to hear and give space for that, especially for these parts that are typically very.... self kept with their feelings and trauma responses.

[atimetoteardownandatimetobuildup]

fear

I know I haven't posted in a while, but that's because I didn't have a lot of thoughts.

Now, I'm just extremely scared.

(Just for context: I have two final papers due and my mom has a history of doing similar stuff. I'm also autistic.)

This is kind of a vent post with TW for potential abuse, abuse, and implied self-harm/maybe suicidal ideation.

My mom just threatened to give me a full eight-hour work day because I have no time to clean the floors or do any chores. I don't know how to start this. My dad was kind of on my side, but I don't think he'll back me up that much.

And I really don't think that's a good idea, especially for me, a neurodivergent, likely physically disabled, individual who has childhood trauma from very similar things?

"Honor your father and mother." Well, what if they don't honor you? What if they threaten you with abuse and make you cry in your room and think about what to take if you had to live at your friend's house until they calmed down? What if they play good cop/bad cop just to get you to stand down? What if they don't accept poor communication and ways of saying "no?" What if "no" isn't an acceptable answer?

What if you can't see mothers and fathers, in any form, as loving? What if you feel like parental figures can't love you? What if sadness is a knife on your throat?

what if it went worse

I think my family ruined my image of God.

I think I have to accept that I'm the child they got, and not the one they asked for.

And people have said "pray about it," but I have God trying to fill a family and person-shaped hole. It feels wrong. We're supposed to live in community. So why do I feel so isolated?

I think they'd care if I wasn't in the house anymore.

But I want to live. I want a little house with vines growing on the walls and a place for people to come in if they need a place to just be. Maybe it could be close to a body of water. Maybe I build it myself: a little blue house with vines and murals on the wall. The city gets bigger, and eventually comes up to it and surrounds it. But the house stays, and maybe, one day, when I'm gone, it will still be there, close to the coast on its outcropping.

That's kind of my prayer. It's my prayer that things get better and I don't have to suffer with my family. It's my prayer that I can make it through the next three months.

I'll update and give you signs of life. -Cat

[agentalysswolf]

OKAY---"KIN" LIST (im defining kin as a fictional character i feel i embody in some major way and makes me feel seen by others. Also through which I can see myself as I have a difficult time with that as I have bpd among other things.

DEEP BREATH ...Okay. This might seem "cringe" or stupid but idc. It's a big deal for me to come out and release this list even to strangers.

IN NO PARTICULAR ORDER:

Fox Mulder✨--The X Files

(Purest and parts of me I most strive to lean into. Also transboy. my crazy puppy dreamer energy to someone's skeptic down to earth anchor. ready to kill god and anyone who'd dare to hurt the ones i love and cant live without)

Tony Stark✨--You know who I am

(Aware of sins and ready to constantly improve and be better. Heroes are self made!! (built) He loathes himself AND loves himself. The cluster b is strong with this one. as well as cptsd and ocd. Specifically Sun armor. Blazing sunshine energy BOTTOMING AND SUB SPACE IS A NEED TO HEAL. DADDY ISSUES)

Will Graham✨ --Hannibal

(Hyper sensitive "empath" who struggles with mental illness and harmful urges. morally grey. morally good. morally bad. confused/hurt/gentle.)

Quentin Compson (male) --The Sound and The Fury✨

(first book character through whom i felt SEEN. he has MASSIVE ocd issues and the writing style for his chapters resonates with my soul. i was watching tokyo ghoul at the same time and "White Silence" the song makes me think of Quentin in a coffin covered in white flowers with white hair and I break down)

Naruto Uzumaki✨--Naruto/Naruto Shippuden

(hero's hero. he grew up with me and we are most alike in sunshine blazing personalities. Feel VERY DEEPLY and have deep trauma. anyone can change for the better--BELIEVE IT! Childish and loud. hyper with FEELINGS that sometimes get out of control and make us go ninetails mode. (intermittent explosive disorder) Which always end up hurting those around us even though we get that way in emotional responses to freak situations. "THERE ARE NO SHORTCUTS TO BECOMING HOKAGE"

Lestat de Lioncourt✨--The Vampire Lestat (book)/ AMC's show Interview With The Vampire

(The villain in me. The wretched creature. The lover. Absolute chaos. cluster B diva. The trauma. Needing to feel SEEN and fucking everything up over and over. Obsession. Self harm. Suicidal and homicidal ideation.)

Nora (with Weiss' trauma) (team JNPR) --RWBY

(Bright eyed. Motormouth. Random and hyper AF but like actually. Living your entire life with/for someone and needing to figure out who you are without them. Hitting things with a massive hammer. A hero. Lightning blaze heart. Will do anything for those she loves. just add in the song "The Path To Isolation" )

Spinell--Steven Universe Movie

(oh god. the villain origin story. worst fears being imagined. the annoying love bombing and wanting NEEDING others approval and constant attention. bpd. the scythe. the HEALING.)

Asuka --Evangelion/Rebuild

((MOMMY ISSUES TO THE EXTREME) bpd again. need to be seen by others in order to exist. without praise or what you crave from others you are nothing. you only exist through the eyes of others. self harm/ suicide attempt (bathtub scene) mind rape scene. trauma driving your entire life and still...still wanting happiness for people and yourself. not knowing how to express love. coming off as annoying and loud and weird and narcissistic and then laying there alone in bed crying about how much you hate yourself. and yet STILL being able to grow at the end and save the world)

[saisons-en-enfer]

Personal mental health masterpost:

Hey, so I’m making this post to give some clarity into my situation for anyone that cares so there is a mutual understanding; especially because I tend to spiral in real-time on tumblr

Preface: I know this is my blog but I don’t want that to be a basis for my deflecting the responsibility of my own mental well being onto others and make people suffer because of it, especially because when I’m down I’m extremely avoidant, self-centred, and may be unintentionally callous (no I’m not just saying that lightly, I’ve been in so many situations on tumblr and IRL that I say something that is extremely insensitive but that wasn’t my intent leading to so many “sha you can’t say no one cares I’m talking to you/sitting here with you how can you say that”) and I need to also own up to that and admit that sometimes my feelings are false and my thought process is jagged

I’ve hurt someone that is really important to me on here multiple times over this and sadly but deservedly they will never be in my life again (though they will always be important to me). I don't want this to be an insincere "I'm sorry I was wrong, please forgive me" but rather to come clean and say that it has happened and I just want to make sure I take actions so that no one who cares about me on here will ever go through the same situation with me; I love the connections I have tumblr beyond words so it's time I act as such

The crux of my dilemma: as I'm sure you all know, I don't desire much to be alive for multiple reasons that I wont get into, and I cant really end my life because I am practically unable to inflict such harm onto other people just because I'm having a hard time. I have exhibited suicidal behaviours irl numerous times but each time I either went through it successfully with coping, asking for help (usually on tumblr), and if worse comes to worst asking to be hospitalized (which happened 6 months ago after I lost my job). It's complicated to talk about so feel free to send asks or DMs if you want to know more, I do exhibit suicidal behaviours on here (by talking or implying how much I don't want to be alive and saying that I'm in unbearable pain, both of which are true) but I seldom think I'm a danger to myself. I would say I have more suicidal ideations (henceforth SI) than behaviours.

I was first diagnosed with depression when I was 21, by 24 I was diagnosed with major depression (clinical) along with GAD, OCD (obsessive in negative thinking), later at 26 with ADHD, and, last year with a mood disorder (yet to be configured, consensus right now is that it is just very unstable mood)

The mood instability is important to highlight because I can pretty much show you days in which my posts go from cheery to mellow throughout the course of a single day.

Tumblr to me is a very personal and emotional scrapbook, when my mood crashes or i get triggered by something, and go on an SI spiral, first thing that happens is that i panic really hard especially because I get caught in the trap of "oh I have to live again tomorrow and experience all of this again and live my life with this mind" and when I'm in that trail of thought, shit goes south real fast and I start having physiological symptoms; I can't breathe properly, I get chills etc. so it's either I sit with those feelings by myself (because I'm not brave enough and trust many people IRL to seek help; something I'm working on) or, I release it onto here as posts. I know it's odd but in my mind having a breakdown in public (similar to my tumblr outbursts) is more helpful in that people either ignore you in which case you will have sense to know that there is none but yourself that can bring you up in which case you pull yourself together and move forward, or people do take notice and show kindness and support and help you fight your way through to see another day. Whatever the case, at least your not weeping alone so to speak. It sounds callous and even attention seeking but i don’t believe it’s inherently wrong, it’s a call for help.

The attention seeking part of it I concede my approach is terrible and I’m such an asshole for constantly firing from the hip with saying shit like “I don’t want to be alive, Im better off dead” and other things of the same ilk no matter how much I mean it and feel the depth of those words so closely. I will be better; when I’m emotional I’m not rational so I don’t do what I always do, step back and think am I approaching this person correctly. My cousin told me “if you’re having a hard time, than don’t say things like that to freak me out… say hey K I’m a bit sad today, I need a hug, I need some love, I need to get out of my head a little”

I'm taking mood stabilizers twice a day, whilst this has been deemed to be enough since I tend to have a strong outward facade and keep composed if my mood falters until I'm alone in my room and my interactions with people irl has been functional, I fear it's not enough and I may have to bring it up even though it means more meds (which btw coincidentally my mother just walked in my room reminding my of my next psychiatrist appointment soon). It's just very hard to bring up my tumblr behaviour up in therapy because as soon as I'm honest about my posting, they will just want to hospitalize me... it's not conceivable in most people's minds that yes I dont wish to be alive but I don't necessarily want to kill myself.

Which brings me to this part regarding my etiquette on tumblr:

All text posts pertaining to my mental health, should it imply SI I will tag as "SI posting"

I will NOT be tagging really sad songs as of now, but I can certainly do that if people would like me to

When I post something concerning you can choose to ignore me altogether if you'd like I will not hold it against anyone or be upset or fall prey to the line of thinking that "no one cares" because I know beyond a doubt that people actually DO care

If you do see such a post and want to help me genuinely, interacting with the post (like or comment or whatever) however small helps me so much and makes me feel so much less alone and gives me strength to push through

You can also start a conversation with me and talk about anything at all that also gets my mind off of things

I promise ill try my hardest to just ask for support instead of just posting extremely concerning text posts

EDIT: im also open and welcome any suggestions people may have on this matter and how I can be better

I keep my promises very seriously and just over a week ago I promised someone I really care about that I will try and be better and I very much intend to do that.

Thank you so much for patience and kindness and just not giving up on me when at times I've given you ample reasons to do so, I love you so much

Much love

[healingheartdogs]

CW for ideation, just ranting a bit about psych stuff

When you tell your psychiatrist that you've never been so depressed in your life and have never struggled with ideation and wanting to self harm so much and you don't know if it's just because of your current life situation (poverty and the looming threat of homelessness is so fun) or if it's because of the meds you're on now (which have a black box warning for increase in suicidal thoughts and suicide risk) and instead of addressing either of those two very realistic possibilities she just asks if I'm expecting my period soon and when my last one was instead. I have PMDD but it's never been suicidal PMDD, and I'm on BC to manage it rn that stops me from having periods so it's not relevant anyway.

When I told her my BC stops my period so I don't have them she asked me if I was still tracking them to make sure it wasn't possibly PMDD... There's nothing to track lady, I DON'T HAVE THEM. And then she moved on to asking me how else the meds were making me feel and told me I should keep trying them for longer to see if they actually work because it can take up to two months to see benefits without ever going back to address the extreme depression and ideation. Like... dude the strattera clearly does not like my brain since it is making me extremely depressed, COULD YOU LISTEN TO ME PLEASE??? It also is not actually helping with any of my ADHD symptoms besides making my head a little bit quieter instead of constant random ping-ponging thoughts.

I told the nurse before my first visit with this psych that I was worried about seeing a new psychiatrist because my last one didn't listen to me and focused on irrelevant things that I would mention in passing a lot instead of what was actually important to me to deal with, and she told me this new psych is SUCH a good listener that she even talks to her about her problems a lot so she hopes I felt the same while seeing her. I can only conclude that this nurse must be mentally healthy because this lady does not listen any better than the last one and does the exact same shit, acting like all my problems are just because I don't sleep "normally" and focusing more on managing my anxiety (which is a symptom not its own problem and is already being managed fairly well by my beta blockers) and low self worth rather than solving the issues causing my anxiety and low self worth like my extreme executive dysfunction that makes me feel like I'm trapped in my unresponsive body and a useless POS all the time.

I s2g I am so over getting lectures on sleep hygiene and needing to "fix" my sleep schedule from doctors when I am not complaining about sleep at all just because they personally don't like my sleep habits. Yes, I have a sleep disorder. Yes, my sleep schedule frequently shifts because I'm not on a 24 hour cycle. NO, I do NOT have a problem with that and I do NOT struggle with getting to sleep, staying asleep, or getting enough sleep!!! STOP FOCUSING ON MY SLEEP!!!! THE UNMANAGED ADHD IS MUCH MORE SERIOUS!!! But my sleep schedule isn't "correct" for capitalism and working normal jobs so they prioritize that "issue" instead, even though I wouldn't be able to work even if it was normal because of my EXTREME ADHD and physical disability.

I hate healthcare in this country.

[forever-eternal]

Hello 👋 have some refs and the rules of one of my Undertale AU’s, Fated Souls.

Rules of Fated Souls:

•The four are the fallen humans. The Monsters only need one SOUL.

•Quena is trying to keep her family safe, as the adult and oldest sibling

•She hadn’t planned on coming back up. If it was just her, she would’ve gladly given her SOUL.

•But, she’s not the only one. Her baby siblings are here. She’s getting them out, no matter what.

•Riley is the second oldest, the older twin, but she’s only 10. She’s scared and just wants her big sister.

•She’ll do her best to be brave, because Quena’s always been brave for them.

•Emily is the younger twin, she’s incredibly shy. She’ll speak up when someone says something bad about her family, but she prefers to avoid confrontation.

•She wants to do whats right.

•Nicolas, Nicki, is the youngest. The only brother. He’s afraid, so, so afraid.

•Despite his fear, he was taught to be kind.

•They MUST complete at least 1 (one) of each run

•Usually forced to do more than one of Neutral and Genocide

•Quena is the one usually in charge of the Encounters. Unless she dies, of course.

•If its a Pacifist, whoever died comes back at the next SAVE. If its Neutral or Genocide, they don’t come back until the next RESET. In Genocide, there is a chance they don’t come back until the next Universe.

•Once FATE is satisfied with their amount of runs, the next RESET drops them in a new Universe

•The only reason they know they’re not dreaming is the items they collect or things they write down not vanishing each RESET. Quena keeps a journal of it all, the pages never seem to end.

•They are Not having a Good Time, but they’re pretending every thing is fine in the happier timelines

•It doesn’t always stay that way

This AU can be jokes and memes, but there’s a lot of violence, suicidal ideation, and self-sacrifice—especially from Quena. You think she’d let anything happen to them?

CHARACTER INFO:

Quena:

•Oldest Child

•Main SOUL trait is Patience, with Perseverance, Justice, and Determination woven in

•College Student for Mechanical and Computer Engineering.

•Good at Math on the fly, rarely ever needs to write equations down.

•Strained relationship with Mother, less said about Father the better.

•Father was neglectful and abusive, her Mom was trapped doing everything. Quena pretty much raised her siblings in a house with two parents.

•Depressed with Self-Harmful Habits and Tendencies.

•Jumped as a way of suicide, mixed feelings about surviving

•Several Timelines and Universes where she commits to the act, almost always followed by a RESET

•Genocide affects her mental state heavily.

•Carries around a knife, first to figure out how to turn her SOUL into a physical weapon

•First item she grabbed in the Underground was a backpack capable of carrying anything. Often uses it to carry siblings in more dangerous universes, or if they need to get somewhere fast.

•Self sacrifice to the extreme, mental state gets worse in bad runs if one of her siblings dies.

•Also willing to throw herself in front of Innocent Monsters in Violent Universes

•The One Who Does Phone Calls

•”Excuse Me, they asked for no pickles.”

•Jokes self-deprecatingly to hide her depression

•Family, Friends, anyone else with that brand? She’s your biggest hype-man. No low self-esteem in her house (that’s her job)

•Will rarely resort to violence in front of her siblings, but will if necessary

•Can actually be incredibly scary if she wants to be. Doesn’t usually want to be.

•Gives the best hugs, very comforting. Perfect pressure and warmth, like a shield against everything wrong in the world.

•Does not remember the last time she slept.

•Calls everyone ‘buddy’ and ‘pal’. Does she know you? No idea!

•Probably has at least one fractured bone at all times. Does not care at all.

•The ‘Big Sister Ever’ Energy

She remembers e v e r y t h i n g

Riley:

•The Older Twin

•Main SOUL Trait is Bravery, but also small bits of Perseverance and Justice

•Acts all tough, but still just a child

•A blunt, sarcastic sweetheart tbh

•Does NOT like strangers. No matter how old they are or if they’re a Monster or a Human.

•Rarely ever without Emily, but Quena is her favorite sibling.

•Watching Quena fight Monsters, with seemingly no regards to her own safety, upsets her.

•Watching Quena die, or any of them die, is worse

•Calls Quena ‘Mom’ as a joke but also sorta means it sometimes

•The type of person to run up as someone raises their arm and just grab it, like a monkey bar

•Also has a knife, but smaller.

•She hates being alone in any capacity after the few runs where Emily and Quena both died, leaving just her and Nicolas.

•Quena had to piggyback her most of the next Pacifist run, and Emily held her hand, but neither minded.

•She wants to be strong, so she can protect her family for once— Like Quena always has.

•Cannot sleep without someone close by.

•Very careful about keeping her bones in tact, doesn’t always work.

•Remembers faces easily. Names mean little

Emily

•The Younger Twin

•Main SOUL Trait is Integrity, with small bits of Kindness and Justice

•Doesn’t enjoy talking to people, or having people look at her.

•Usually hides from confrontation.

•Will freeze up if someone tries to confront her, especially if they’re angry in any way (she does not enjoy Fell verses)

•Never seen without Riley, but Nicolas is her favorite.

•Also has separation anxiety, gets nightmares on the rare instance they’re able to pause and sleep

•The RESETS scare her

•What if, one day, one of them dies and then they can’t RESET?

•It’s a big fear of hers.

•Carries colorful bandaids for everyone

•Very polite, will hang from someones arm while Riley swings from the other.

•Great at remembering names! Not so much at faces…

Nicolas

•The Youngest!

•A SOUL of Kindness, with a little bit of Perseverance

•He just wants to play games!

•Sometimes the Monsters are scary though, and he’d rather hide.

•Will hide in the Backpack.

•His mind has blocked out most of the trauma from all the RESETS and Universe Hopping.

•They all know it won’t be blocked forever, but for now they’ll let him be happy.

•He wants to be friends! He wants to make friends!

•Sometimes, they don’t want to be friends with him.

•Sometimes, he doesn’t want to be friends either.

•Can remember a few names and a few faces, doesn’t always pay attention.