#Fuck anxiety and depression and ocd look at me fucking go

[ivys-head-is-spinning]

Self care is putting my hair up with a fluffy headband, taking a bubble bath using the bath bomb and face mask and other things like that I’ve been “saving” and blasting one of my favourite albums (Revelation by Eden Espinosa) and moisturizing after

I’m cured

[aworldofendlesswonder]

ouagh menty illness hours

[jenovacomplete]

neurodiversity, famous for being something both healthcare professionals and average joes are very normal about and accepting of,

"people are more accepting of mental illness/neurodiversity than they are physical disability! you can get excused for mental health reasons but not flare-ups for physical conditions!" 1) we are siblings in arms it is pointless to fight like this 2) no they fucking don't. no they really, truly don't.

[madi-writes-things]

Francesca Pt. 2

Summary:

It broke Schlatt when he had to let Y/N go, But he would go through hell a thousand times if it meant he got to hold her again.

“If I could hold you for a minute… I’d go through it again.”

Word Count: 791

TW: Mental Illness, angst, ocd, depression, anxiety, suicidal thoughts, break up, pining, feelings of worthlessness, basically a self insert without a physical description, Schlatt is Based in Texas… because so am I

A/N: This totally isn’t a vent fix based loosely upon what the inside of my brain looks like on a daily basis. This is the only way to work through it, and I this fic will probably only get more complicated and sad.

Did you know that Ted is actually teal years older than Schlatt? Reader is Schlatts age. Enjoy!!!

-Madi <3

“”“”“”“”“”

Schlatt’s POV

The drive home was hell, but nothing prepares me for the first time walking into a newly empty house. It didn’t look any different at a first glance… the pictures on the walls, the dirty clothes left in a hamper, the dishes in the sink.

The reality doesn’t hit until I walk into the bedroom. Her side of the room shows no proof that anyone had been living there for the last three years. I walk over and sit down on my side with a deep sigh. I hadn’t realized that I was holding my breath.

I reach over to open up my nightstand. All that sits in the drawer is a small velvet box. All that sits inside is a nearly $5,000 ring… a ring picked out for the love of my life.

I can’t help the soft patter of tears falling to the floor beneath me.

I can’t do this without her.

“”“”“”“”“”

Three Weeks Later

I don’t even know how I found it. I was just rearranging the house in an attempt to distract myself… I was moving the bed when it happened.

As I lifted the mattress, I noticed a small pink envelope… as I moved it completely away, I was taken aback by the sight of dozens of little pink envelopes. They all had names written on them, mostly consisting of mine and Ted’s, but not limited to us.

Now I sit in the floor surrounded by a pile of the opened letters, praying that Ted answers the phone.

“Hey Schlatt, what’s up?” He sounds too happy. This will ruin his day.

“What is this?” He’s silent for a second before asking me what the hell I'm talking about. “Dear Ted, things have been getting worse… but if you’re reading this, you already know that.” I take a deep breath before continuing. “Dear Jay, this isn’t your fault.” I can practically hear the realization hit him. I hear him release a deep sigh. “Dear mom and dad… Dear Charlie… Dear Tucker… Dear Friends and Family…”

I can’t breathe. Ted is silent on the other end of the call.

“She never told you?” He sounds so calm, as if I didn’t just tell him that his best friend has a stash of suicide notes.

What.

The.

Fuck.

“You knew that she wanted to kill herself and didn’t tell me?!” My voice is laced with hurt and anger. How could he keep this from me. “You should have told me… you live almost 20 hours away, it’s not like you could have helped if she had.”

“She’s not going to kill herself Schlatt…” He sounds exhausted, like he doesn’t want to have to explain himself.

I don’t know how to respond. She obviously thinks about it, how can he be so nonchalant about this?

After a few seconds of silence he corrects himself. “She doesn’t want to kill herself, it’s just something that she thinks about sometimes.”

“How long has this been going on?” What I really want to ask is why didn’t she tell me, but I don’t know if I’ll like the answer.

Ted’s silence is deafening. It takes a good three minutes before I hear him take a long breath in. It’s ragged, much like mine.

“it’s been going on since she was like twelve… she used to tell me about it, but something happened a few years back, and she stopped talking to me.”

Twelve? That’s half her life. Why didn’t she tell me? How did I not know? Why did she shut Ted out? He was the only person she trusted.

“What happened? Why did she stop telling you about it?” I have so many questions. I have way to ask her.

Ted gets silent again, like he’s deciding if he should tell me. I stay silent, wondering if I want the answer.

Ted breaks the silence after what feels like an eternity. “After she graduated, we got a small two bedroom house together…” I can hear the hesitation, almost like he’s making sure she won’t hear him. “I was still in school, and she was working as a teachers aide at the local elementary. Not long after her 19th birthday… she… I…” Oh God. What happened? “I came home one day to one those notes on the table, and the car running in the garage. She begged me not to tell her parents… and after that she stopped telling me about her bad thoughts.”

“She’s not okay… I can’t believe I didn’t see this… you need to keep an eye on her, I can’t lose h-” I stop myself, because I already did lose her.

Ted promises that he won’t let that happen, and I hang up the phone.

“”“”“”“”“”

@unbruisable @bernardsbendystraws @sturniolo-fann @jnkvivi @stasiesturn

@h3arts4harry @slutforsturniolos @memento-rory @memea32221 @writingsbyzuzu

[thenerdofthegroup]

And if I said Agatha fits ‘the family jewels’ album by marina and the diamonds perfectly?!?!? Then what

Are you satisfied- obvious. Always wanting more. Wanting to be the best. Be perfect. Seen as a freak by others due to wanting control

Shampain- Agatha is a metaphor for addiction. This song is all about the terrible side of drinking and addiction. Perfect again

I am not a robot- one of my personal favs (I know I’m autistic don’t). But this perfectly goes with a few scenes where Agatha… she isn’t the same as others. It’s very clear that even in moments of vunerability she can’t switch of that survival. That non human emotion does not come naturally but she does try. The campfire scene where she awkwardly chuckles, still one of the best scenes ever imo, proves this. She is an outside to everyone. Women, witches etc she is outside. Like a ‘robot’ looking in

Girls- right now. Agatha is not a good person. She mocks women. She uses their insecurities and their trauma against them to get what she wants. This whole song is about mocking other women and the societal expectations on them. Agatha doesn’t give a shit. And she will mock anyone that does. If someone thinks she’s ugly, dead. Someone thinks she’s fat, torture. They don’t matter so seeing others feel it is another digging point for her to get under others skins. I know what I’m trying to say but I don’t think it’s working… let’s just say we all know what I’m trying to say

Mowgli’s road- indecision. At every point she could choose to connect and to finally trust others again or keep down the path of ‘survival’. It’s also a very childish and ‘Disney like’ song, which you could link to her childhood. At 18 she had to decide whether she could keep taking abuse or finally kill. Which path to take each time…

Obsessions- the much darker side to her. I personally feel she has a few… mental quirks and this song is about depression, anxiety, ptsd and ocd. I think a lot of what she has been through and exhibits in the show can be linked to these or other mental disorders. But under the charm and bubbles there is a deeply broken person who never wants to feel it. Rio is right. She is a coward. And she runs away from those feelings. Obsessed with perfection and power to escape them

Hollywood- this song is about idolising people. I think this can be applied to both power and her always reaching for it OR about people like Wanda, Billy and Rio. She can never reach their levels of power but she wants it. She needs it. She wants to be them, wants to have that control. She doesn’t idolise them personally say but she wants to claw her way to that pedestal of power

The outsider- I mean… this is obvious. She is THE outsider. She doesn’t fit with witches, humans, gods etc. she is outside of it all. The campfire proved it to me. The Nick flashbacks made it obvious. Always alone, always the outsider. Note my favourite line is how she screams ‘I’m a fucking wildcard’ and Agatha would scream that too. So yes this song to me is one of the closest related

Hermit the frog- her going absolutely batshit insane. But on a more serious note it’s about her becoming worse and worse and spiralling in a terrible relationship. Now, some people argue Rio was this for her, and maybe you’re right. But I don’t see it that way. Agatha was going to kill. They are evil mistresses together. There are nuances to it that I do agree with but this isn’t about that. This is about the darkhold. She moved from one relationship (her and Nicky) and sunk into the darkhold out of pure grief and was abused by it and her mind became worse. That’s at least what I headcanon. That her mental health got dreadful. But it was a toxic pull. She knew it was bad for her but she couldn’t stand the pain and dealing with it alone without a buffer anymore (again guessing because the show with fake title of DARKHOLD DIARIES DIDNT SHOW HER AND THE FUCKING DARKHOLD) *cough cough* anyway. Nick could also be her ‘glass balloon’

Oh no- terror of failing. That’s obvious. This whole song like satisfied screams her. Because she’s a perfectionist. She cannot fail. Failure is the worst thing for her. This song just screams Agatha to me. “Because I feel like I’m the worst so I always act like I’m the best”

Rootless- disconnected from everything. It’s about relocating and that’s what she does. She has no ties to a place, people, anything. She has nothing to connect with (apart from Rio). She is isolated from everything because she has nothing to connect to.

Numb- and if I said Agatha is depressed and masks it with about 1000 masks… but really this whole song is about being numb to everything. And that’s what she is. She feels nothing to death (the action… have to specify now), numb to pain, numb to a lot. Or at least pretends to be mostly. But I think she is numb to a lot due to all the pain she has been through and this song definitely encapsulates that

Guilty- this songs about killing a dog… soooo. Just kidding it’s about family issues. Perfect. To single out one line perfectly “I was just a kid and all I really wanted was my father” swap out father with mother and boom, sad Agatha childhood

Family Jewels- Agatha to a tea. “Ooh, don't you find it strange? Only thing we share is one last name. Did I beat you at your own game? Typical of me to put us all to shame” I can even imagine teenage Agatha screaming this at her mum. Abusive parent who hates her and pushes her away? Tick. The child taking and having to live with the shame of being the stain in the family name? Tick.

God I could write essays about this, most will wood songs and so many other songs that relate to her. My god…

She is just perfect

Thank you for coming to my TED talk. Here is a photo of ghost Agatha doing laundry for listening

[razzberrydazz]

Neurodivergence and mental illness headcanons and analysis with the BG3 cast! All of them have trauma there's no way any of them are totally mentally well (NONE of them are mentally fully well, being an adventurer is traumatic in and of itself).

Shadowheart and Astarion both have Borderline Personality Disorder undoubtedly to me, with Shart also having an extra dose of anxiety and depression on top of that. Being kidnapped and raised in a cult and being held hostage by a vampire lord are more than traumatizing enough to cause that.

Astarion definitely has PTSD from his time with Cazador. Shadowheart, Halsin, and Durge (if the player plays as Dark Urge) definitely also have PTSD.

-My analysis for my Durge is for a different post because there is so much going on there, but know that OCD and BPD and PTSD are all strong contenders for their mental idiosyncrasies-

Gale most definitely has depression and likely comorbid Autism and ADHD.

Lae'Zel is very autistic-coded to me with her directness and perceived low empathy and struggle to understand faerunian customs - many alien type characters are autistic-coded by the nature of their 'fish out of water' character arcs. She also has anger issues galore, and trust issues, she was raised in a militaristic alien cult society there's no way she wouldn't have fucked up emotional development. She's direct and quick to anger, but I don't think she's outright Rude - others may Think she's being rude but she's not, she's being honest and saying what she thinks.

Karlach is Sooooo ADHD coded to me, she also has hella anger issues and I do not blame her one bit, as well as a moderate dose of anxiety. Someone give her a fireproof fidget toy I beg of thee.

Wyll hides his trauma and issues relatively well, but I would not say he's as well-adjusted as many assume him to be. He's self-sacrificing to the point of extreme detriment, possibly a people pleaser, I am certain he has anxiety and depression that he does his best to mask, and he may not have full blown PTSD but he definitely has trauma. I get the impression he has a low opinion of himself due to his pact and often can even be self-depreciating especially when made to look like a devil, definitely has signs of depression in him. He is such a precious man and I want to help him see that he's worth so much more than he thinks 🥺

Minthara, while I don't know her character as well as the others, definitely has trauma from being raised in the toxic cult of lolth-sworn drow society, greatly reduced empathy (but not non-existent) due to said cult society, is definitely a sadist, could have developed Antisocial Personality Disorder due to the way lolthite society molded her (Lolthite society raises people in a way to predispose them to having APD if you ask me, since it's built on manipulation and fear and ladder climbing on the backs of others). Despite possibly having APD due to the trauma of Lolthite society, Minthara is not incapable of love and devotion and can grow to care for tav and other party members over time, perhaps even to a fanatical level if you romance her.

Halsin has trauma that he often brushes off or downplays, he can be quite self-depreciating at times, and from my viewpoint he is hypersexual as a maladaptive coping mechanism. Definitely has self-image issues and doesn't see himself as worthy of the love and affection and positions of authority he's been placed in. Probably has depression that he works hard to mask in front of others.

Jaheira has a long history of trauma that include the events of the first two games, I would not be surprised if she has PTSD, but overall she is pretty well adjusted all things considered. She has trust issues but I don't blame her, she has justification.

Minsc is hilarious, that man has autism I am convinced, he has trauma but I'm not sure if he realizes his trauma is indeed trauma and not simply a mild inconvenience in his life. Either none of his trauma is processed as such in his brain so he is genuinely that happy-go-lucky, or that jovial attitude is a mask. Boo is...Boo. I do not know the inner machinations of a miniature giant space hamster.

If anyone in the game is a Narcissist, it's Orin the Red (NPD does not make one inherently abusive or evil of course, no personality disorder or mental illness makes anyone inherently bad, Orin just happens to embody many of its traits to the extreme and has the traumatic upbringing to cause it). Her story is so tragic to me, she wants so badly for Bhaal to love her, she wants the admiration and affection of the god of murder so bad and she doesn't care if that means killing the entire world. She's incredibly tragic, she doesn't realize she's as traumatized as she is because it got channeled into her mask of self-importance and lack of empathy extreme sadism and want for admiration from Bhaal specifically. If it was possible to if not redeem her, at least spare her from death and break her out of her cult mindset, I would do it in a heartbeat. I love Orin as a character so much.

Gortash could be APD, but I think he fits Obsessive-Compulsive Personality Disorder more. His want for control, for order, under the tyranny of Bane, to wrench control and revenge for the childhood he was robbed of, it's very fitting. He's distrustful and known for deceit but his ride or dieness with Durge and willingness to Risk It All for Tav is endearing to me, and could be him manipulating or simply be that he does in fact see teaming up with Tav as the best course of action for him to maintain his control. I'm biased I know, I like Gortash too much.

Ketheric is spiteful and traumatized from the death of his wife and daughter and the cult he imbedded himself in yes, but he takes it to an extreme in his lashing out from his grief. I don't think he's antisocial or narcissistic, I mainly think he's depressed and a victim of a sunk-cost fallacy taken way too far. He committed to the bit until the very end.

If anyone else could possibly have APD or NPD, I think it'd be the Emperor, but I also feel the mental quirks of being a mindflayer predispose someone to being manipulative and self-agrandizing. He is a Very sly and effective manipulator, and even though overall he has the common goal as the player and protects them from death and transforming into a mind flayer for the majority of the game, he is ultimately doing it for his own aims. He hid the truth of Orpheus and his own form for most of the game, because he was so distrustful of Tav that he believed they would never trust him otherwise - which he can't actually know as true or not. Unfortunately for him I chose saving Orpheus and helping Lae'Zel over helping him because his history of manipulation and omition of information caught up to him and caused the very distrust he wanted to avoid. He is a great morally grey/dubious character who can be both loved and loathed for his antics.

Dame Aylin and Isobel definitely have trauma if not PTSD, and Aylin probably is autistic.

Listen what I'm saying is autistic people have a surprisingly high level of charisma and they and other neurospicy people congregate together to make some delicious neurospicy food.

Those are all the characters I have thoughts about for the moment, and these are my headcanons more than anything, so don't take this too seriously.

[yourstrulylordi]

Dear Kathryn Hahn,

I’m writing to you because everything is your fault.

Ever since I got married to my beautiful wife I haven’t had a crush on anyone else. I suppose the only celebrity crush I’ve had is Jennifer Beals as Bette Porter on The L Word but that’s okay because I’ve liked since way before I ever met my wife, so that never caused a problem.

Well now you came along with Agatha Harkness and my little autistic antennas go absolutely bonkers and HELLO! NEW HYPERFIXATION UNLOCKED! So yeah… this is all your fault. Probably Jac Schaeffer too, but I’ll leave her out of it for now.

For the last weeks I’ve been completely immersed in Agatha All Along, watching every week’s episode, analyzing scenes and clues, studying the characters, sharing ideas and theories with strangers on the internet. This TV show started to heal something inside of me, this isn’t a story about witches, this is a story about women, about life, about finding one’s power. I’ve been finding my own power, I’ve been finding my voice and I have been fighting my biggest fear, which is to be seen. I’ve been reaching out to people whom I love and miss but I didn’t feel worthy of their love. I’ve been meditating, working on my emotions and negative thoughts. Trying to focus on the positive.

I’ll tell you a bit about us.

My wife and I are autistic, we both battle depression and anxiety, she also has OCD, so we deal with a handful but we are a team. We love each other so much and we are each other’s biggest fans.

My wife, she’s so precious, she’s beautiful, smart, witty, creative, intuitive, loving, funny, kind, a fighter, and is willing to give a lot for the people that she loves. But she’s so fucking terrified of living, she’s so angry at the world. She’s scared of being herself, of being seen, of being rejected, of being left, of failing, sometimes I think she is also afraid of succeeding and being accepted. She’s mad at the world for all the time it has failed her, for how mean and heartless people have been to her and are to others, for how selfish we as a society have become, always pursuing our own agenda and completely ignoring the well being of others and our planet, she’s mad because she’s also often misunderstood and made to be the “problem” (which also makes me mad), she’s always made to be too sensitive, too sick, too emotional.

She thinks she’s ugly and unattractive, but Kathryn… everyday I wake up and look at her I can’t believe how fucking lucky I am to be with her. We fought so incredibly hard for us to be together, I pretty much left everything behind and flew across the world to be by her side and I don’t regret it one bit. She’s my miracle. She gives me strength and hope and motivates me to want to get better and healthy and want to see the good things she sees in me.

So back to our problem… Agatha All Along. The real problem arose when I developed a celebrity crush on you… or on Agatha? I don’t know. My wife’s had a fair amount of boy crushes, the current one is basically present in our everyday life, we bought his vynils, I bought her a sweatshirt and a t-shirt from his merch, we have a poster of him on our bedroom wall, we watched livestreams of his performances all summer long, watched interviews, documentaries, I’ve learned all conspiracy theories about him, and I now find myself listening to his music on my own. At first I felt so hurt and jealous, like I wasn’t enough for my wife, I felt like she would leave me for a man similar to the crush, I felt like I wasn’t giving her what she needed so she had to seek for it elsewhere. But I knew deep down those were my own insecurities, I knew she loved me, I knew she makes a choice everyday to be with me, so I worked through the feelings and thoughts. I talked to her about how it made me feel, I cried, she cried, she promised she would stop liking him, I begged her not to because I knew it gave her a break from pain and obsessive thoughts and depression and anxiety and all her demons. She felt ashamed because she shouldn’t obsess about things like that, she’s 31, she should grow up. I don’t think so, I think it’s beautiful the childlike energy and passion she gives her interests and hobbies.

I know myself, as an autistic woman, that the way we experience life is different, we feel so deeply, when we like something it becomes a deep part of our personality, when we’re happy we feel endless and powerful, when we’re in pain we feel the deepest darkness within us to the point we think it might kill us. I love her autistic joy and I love mine. I don’t want her to repress any part of herself just because of my own traumas and insecurities. I want to work through them, because she’s not doing it to hurt me, she’s just enjoying life to the best of her abilities.

I know that all what I was thinking and feeling… she probably thinks it about herself. She thinks there’s something wrong with her, that she’s the reason why I am so obsessed with this fictional character, that she’s not enough, that I’ll leave her for a woman that fits the image of Agatha Harkness.

Dear Kathryn Hahn, you’re beautiful and charismatic, but even if you knocked on my door on that fabulous outfit that Agatha wears when summoning the road on episode two and offered to take me, marry me, give me the world…. I’d ask for a picture and then close the door and go back to the arms of my beautiful wife.

I want her to know that, I want her to understand why I love Agatha so much, why I’m so passionate about this show. It isn’t about how hot you are or wanting to cheat on my wife. It’s about the story, it’s about Agatha and her relationships and losses, how she coped different than me with abuse and became a selfish asshole. I became an asshole to myself, I have spent years insulting myself, punishing myself, telling myself I’m bad and ugly and stupid and unworthy. I’m fascinated by the two polar opposites, I see what could’ve become of me. I don’t like who Agatha became and I don’t like who I became either. I want to find the light and power inside of me, I want to let myself be seen, be heard, be loved. I want to give the world a chance before it’s too late, cause after all Death does come for as all.

I want that life and I want my wife to have it too. I want her so badly to see how amazing she is, she doesn’t let herself be seen either, she masks as the person “she’s supposed to be”, and that’s so exhausting, I know it from experience. I want her to be unapologetically herself, I want her to say what she needs and wants, I want her to be loud, to say no, to try new things and enjoy failing, falling, and trying again. I want her to let herself shine because she’s my light, she saved me and she keeps saving me every fucking day.

I’m struggling because even though I know and understand how she feels… I know rationally that her feelings and my feelings are valid, that I didn’t intentionally hurt her and I am trying my best to be the best wife…. I feel like a piece of shit, I feel like I’m the biggest asshole, I feel like I should punish myself, throw away my AAA hoodie, cancel Disney+, self harm, do things that aren’t good for me, I want to hurt myself, I want to break me for hurting her.

I feel the same way she felt about her interest… embarrassed and like I should grow up and not like things so deeply.

I feel so undeserving of the tiny beautiful things. Depression is so crippling and debilitating… If I have to fight so hard for every breath of air am I deserving at all? Maybe I should just give up. But I know that’s not the solution.

Dear Kathryn Hahn, I know non of this is your fault. I know you haven’t done anything wrong at all, but it’s easier to blame you because you’ll never read this and it means it isn’t my fault.

Dear Kathryn Hahn… why?

Yours truly,

Lordi

[overelegantstranger]

madpunk inflected mental health and hearing voices talk under the cut

i've been thinking about the hearing voices thing. For a little clarity I'm going to define my terms. by "hearing voices" I'm meaning three things:

the near constant thoughts of "you should die, you should kill yourself, everyone would be better off if you weren't around" that happen on my period, and which always feel like they're coming from, if not literally outside my head, outside "my space" in my head. At at least one point, they felt/sounded like they were coming from a female, mother-y person, whose voice was very specific and distinct

the similar, but not identical, thoughts that can happen when i'm, or possibly Tank is, struggling with feeling angry or resentful or upset. The last time he experienced it, he described it as an internal radio he couldn't get away from, to the point of trying to physically block his ears and drown it out. These often start as like, for example, "I can't believe they would do that" and might be Tank's or my thoughts, and escalate until they become a "radio", causing feelings of anger and resentment that are disproportionate to the thoughts that either of us would have laid claim to

The having of at least two other people in my head who seem able to project thoughts to me. This one is, in a way, the hardest to identify, because I thought it was normal for a long time, and I don't precisely know how much internal dialogue is "normal" and how much is potentially included in "hearing voices". So say I might be saying in my head "I'm just feeling x, y, z" and then I might "hear" "yeah, because a, b, c", such as you might have when telling a friend what you're feeling. and sometimes these dialogues would confuse me, like, why am i having these "yeah, and" thoughts? it's just rephrasing what i JUST said, or put words on what was vaguely in my mind. But overall I thought they were just normal and maybe they are.

I've been thinking about all these, but particularly the first two. Initially I was looking into menstrual psychosis, because psychosis is a "scary", stigmatised term and I wasn't sure if I had discounted it because of stigma (context: I maybe have PMDD but the timing is always on my period, never before. But menstrual psychosis, while timed correctly, doesn't seem to match my symptoms).

And I just kept thinking. There was something about being at therapy on Monday, and being openly plural and talking a little about my childhood, and having my pluralness accepted as fact, that made me kind of see it from outside and think that this isn't really super "normal", like, idk.

I guess, because my mum has depression, that me developing an intense anxiety issue and even OCD, is "normal". I realise for most people this is an Issue, but for me, while it's scary and awful and disabling, That's Just What Brains Do. I have at least four generations of mental health problems on that side, you know? I have just sort of absorbed the idea of being mentally ill without it shifting my mental perception of myself, because to me, it was as natural as being blue-eyed.

But now, I'm beginning to both clearly see that firstly, my anxiety and ocd was not a forgone conclusion and not an unfortunate genetic side effect but instead a response to how I was raised and how fucked up my childhood was, and see that what I'm experiencing now is something that someone outside of me might call insane (no stigma necessarily intended; we're a madpunk household).

Like, I was, while living with my parents, actively experiencing symptoms that are socially a shorthand for "insane". I still am now but the point is that that was so invisible I didn't even recognise it for the potentially worrying symptom it was. And maybe in a clinical sense what I'm talking about Isn't really hearing voices. I don't really know. But the point is I'm finally seeing myself as actively, actually, mentally ill, due to largely avoidable incidents and patterns of behaviour from my caregivers, and that those patterns of behaviour have, and i'm using this language for emphasis, actually driven me insane.

[wri0thesley]

I am so sorry if this is invasive and weird, but may I ask what you work as? I'm at the stage where I have to build my future and I know you don't have an age specified but you seem to be doing really well (at least from the posts we've seen, again I really hope not to be invasive) for yourself and your partner and 25+ is still young! Again, I hope this isn't mean or weird, I'm just curious. (and severely nervous. First year of college is ruining me harder than any fictional man.)

ahh anon i'm afraid that the answer is probably not what you're looking for!

for the record, i am 27, i just find getting fandom older a little scary, especially having it listed right there!!!

i actually intended to be a performer and a singing teacher (my degree was going to be in music & musical theatre); unfortunately, due to a plethora of reasons (mostly my undiagnosed autism, unmedicated ocd/depression/anxiety combo, a nervous breakdown and my partner's physical health declining) i dropped out of my degree before the end of my first semester.

for about three years or so after that i was severely agoraphobic. talking 'can't answer the door' agoraphobic; 'never left the house alone, and even when with someone only went to the doctors and therapy' agoraphobic, 'rotted in my bedroom in an absolutely non romanticised way' agoraphobic. i was on the equivalent of disability because i literally could not function. meanwhile, my partner, who lived with me and my parents was getting physically worse whilst i was mentally struggling (since then haz has been diagnosed with ehlers danlos syndrome, fibromyalgia, lipoedema, thyroid issues and a lot of other things; they have a lot going on). i DID access several therapies, had . . . a couple of very bad relapses, went under crisis teams and all of that stuff (i had occupational therapy too which was HONESTLY i think one of the most useful things and helpful things for me in the long run; i cannot imagine what i would be like if i hadn't had the occupational therapist the crisis team found for me).

(coincidentally, if you are an og jojo follower you probably remember how bad it was; i've said it a hundred times, but running this silly little reader-insert blog probably helped save my life at a time when i had almost no contact with the outside world. i couldn't leave my bedroom, but i had my blog and i had my little internet friends and discord server).

i have gotten a lot better.

haz, unfortunately, has not gotten better physically and probably never will. they need help with a lot of things most people don't even realise disabled people might need help with. brushing their hair, fastening clothes . . . when haz first moved in, they were doing the same dance-intensive college course that i was. we danced maybe three or four hours a day. nowadays, haz needs me to hold their hand and keep them steady when they go from our bed to the bathroom (the room next door).

so i don't really 'work' as anything. well, my therapist would tell me off for saying that; the uk government classes me as an 'unpaid carer', which basically means i am on call for haz literally 24/7 and they pay me the pittance that is carer's allowance (carer's allowance assumes you care at least 35 hours a week, and pays you the privilege of about 45 pence per each of those hours. if, like me, you live with the person you care for and do more than those hours, it gets . . . yeah. oof. the government unfortuately know that most unpaid carers are loved ones and family members of the person who needs care and won't just stop doing it, and they'd be in the shit if we did because trained carers are expensive, so they can get away with that - FUCK the tories, honestly.

i am EXCEEDINGLY lucky that i live in a cheap area of the uk, that haz and i are internet savvy enough to be able to access carers/disability discounts, that we are in rent-controlled social housing (which my crisis team helped find for us because living with my parents was taking such a toll on us both, woo!!!!), and that we've been able to access services to help on the nhs. i got my autism assessment and diagnosis; haz is under several pain management teams.

all in all, i'm happy. i'm so much happier than i was seven years ago when i'd dropped out of university and felt like a huge failure, because all of my life i was a gifted overachiever and i thought my self-worth was tied to my academic achievements (and as an extension, what roles i got in what shows and when and who saw me and so on). i don't have a lot of money (i am a bargain shopped fgbnkjgjnfb) but i know what i like and because i'm Older Now (tm) i've amassed collections of it.

i am absolutely sure that you'll boss college, anon! that you will find that thing that works for you (one day i would LOVE to go back and get my degree! pre-covid i had an acceptance for a creative writing degree and i was getting ready to go back to uni as a mature student, but haz's health got bad again and then covid happens - and now ofc i have my autism diagnosis i can access so much more help!). but even if you don't, you can absolutely find happiness without 'traditional' success.

i don't have a lot in the grand scheme of things. but you're right in that i am doing pretty well, in terms of where i am, and where i've been. i have my own little home. i have my partner of ten years who is my soulmate in every conceivable way. i've had experiences that make me feel so happy i sometimes cry when i remember them. i have my own little cat now!!! things still stress me out. but i have come so so far and when i feel down i remember that.

good luck anon! i believe in you <3

[wellsbering]

i keep thinking about all of the...i'm not quite sure what to call it, fallout? side effects? domino effect? none of those seem right. but the smaller things that we don't consider when talking about the consequences of the genocide in gaza.

early on when watching bisan's videos i noticed she has braces. i remember having braces in junior high/high school. it's annoying. everything gets stuck in them. and you have to have them tightened every 6 weeks or so so that you actually make progress with straightening your teeth (they don't just put them on once and wait, you have to keep returning to the orthodontist to adjust them and put more pressure on your teeth to go where you want them to and every time it hurts like you just got them put on for the first time). and i remember thinking, stupid as it was, "there's no one to take bisan's braces off". those things that inconvenienced me for a little under 2 years, she's going to be stuck with for much longer, because orthodontists in gaza haven't been able to do their jobs properly for nearly a year.

and then today i thought about my medication. i've been taking zoloft for my ocd since i was like, 8. i've tried (with my psychiatrist's guidance, of course) to wean myself off of it twice and both times i tried to do anything less than my current dose (the highest possible dose) for more than a week, my mood swings and anxiety and depression were awful. i would snap at people at times i would usually have more patience with them. tiny things that a normal person would look at and say 'oh, that's really annoying' and move on from might reduce me to tears, because my fucking brain chemicals weren't balanced right. and no one in gaza can get their perscriptions refilled now. on top of the unimaginable pain and stress of going through a genocide, people in gaza who already struggled with mental illness are now facing this unmedicated, with no access to therapy to even talk through what they're experiencing.

and (partially because of the lack of antibiotics, partially just due to the severity of their injuries), hundreds, if not thousands, of people have had to have limbs amputated in the past 11 months. mobility aids are expensive even by US healthcare standards. imagine trying to pay for a wheelchair when you already lost everything, your job, your home, your car, all of your clothes and shoes, all of your books, your computer...you must replace all that and more, and try to scrounge up enough money to pay for a mobility aid and/or prosthetic. you might have to learn to walk or type or even eat all over again, and right now, you can't even have a normal physical therapy experience in an actual hospital because every hospital has been completely obliterated by the occupation.

even mundane things. if you're one of the lucky few who still has a car that hasn't been destroyed by the bombings, where do you get gas? how do you get replacement parts when something breaks? after you've cooked a meager meal out of whatever you can find, whether that be real baking flour or just animal feed, how do you wash your dishes with no running water, and where do you find dish soap? when the stress of your situation gets to you and you have an argument with a family member, how do you get some space and cool off if you're living in a 10x10 tent with four other people? if you manage to evacuate and start your life anew, how do you send your academic transcript to a school you're applying to when the university that housed those records has been reduced to rubble? who do you list as a reference on your resume if all of your former employers are dead or missing or just unable to contact the outside world because israel cut off communications and connecting humanity has no esims to send them? if you get a headache, if you strain your back trying to clear rubble away from what used to be your house, if you get menstrual cramps, you can't find painkillers or a hot/cold compress or even a comfortable bed to lie down on. when you're always cooking over an open flame, because you have no other option in a refugee camp full of tents with no electricity, can you access a fire extinguisher in case of emergency, or do you just have to hope you have enough water and/or dirt on hand to prevent an accident?

the list goes on and on. every awful thing that makes the news is compounded by a horde of smaller things that make life just that much more unbearable. if this genocide ended right now, it would still take decades to recover from it. the scale of the devastation and the long-term effects on people's lives are incalculable.

i just can't stop thinking about it.

there isn't really a point to this post. i've just been thinking about this for months and months and i had to get it out somehow. if you can, please donate to my friend safaa's fundraiser to get her family out of gaza and start a new life. i don't really know what else to say.

[virgoiscariot]

Watching “dinner in america” and alternating between kicking my feet and giggling, and sobbing. Fucking hell it hits close to home with the whole autism thing.

Like i’ve always been very intelligent! but kind of slow when it comes to common sense things, socializing etc and im SO so lucky i was able to make it through nursing school and im really good at my job! otherwise i would have been stuck working shitty dead-end jobs like taco bell and being a hospital janitor. because im REALLY good at being a nurse. but i dont think i could hack it as anything else.

And i was talking to my mom and sister about even if i AM autistic i wouldnt want to get diagnosed and take resources and attention away from autistic people with high support needs and my mom was like. “jane. you can’t live alone. and your sister cleans your house for you. and you have meltdowns in public.”

so! im just kinda! having a rough go of it and looking back at my adolescence and childhood is very difficult because me being autistic instead of bipolar+avpd+ocd+depression+anxiety+adhd+whatthefuckever puts many experiences in a very different light

And i just want my mom but im in fucking detroit

[papercutsunset]

i see a lot when people are talking about the demonization and necessity of advocacy for (for example) personality disorders or more-often stigmatized mental illnesses that things like bpd, npd, schizophrenia-- these are demonized, these need support, and adhd, which is not demonized and not damaging, does not. (that's an oversimplification of the argument, of course, but i have my reasons for not leaving this post and going to find specific versions of the statement to refine it.)

and i get where you're coming from. i do. if an hierarchy of stigmatization exists, adhd would probably be up there with depression and anxiety for "things people kinda get and aren't going to want to hit you with a car for." most of these other disorders, when discussed, are demonized to hell and back-- pop culture icons of the murderous or obsessive crazed or "psychopathic" (nevermind the debate of that term) or what have you. that's when they get the play time for that kind of discussion.

but i need you to understand that saying flat-out that adhd isn't demonized is wrong. saying it isn't damaging is also incorrect. obviously the way that it makes you function isn't inherently damaging to a specific person, but it very often is. and, like, you've got to understand that as much as the average joe can understand adhd on the surface level, the same way they can understand depression or anxiety or even ocd, most people don't give a shit to understand it beyond "distracts easily, does weird shit, won't shut the fuck up" (or, if someone explains it to them, maybe they'll retain "probably needs some understanding on deadlines or to go hyperventilate in the hall"). they don't care about the nuances and lived experiences of it any more than they care about the lived experiences of ANY of the rest of this. the average person is going to interpret the things we do, like interrupting (which most of us are not exactly pleased about doing btw) as, you know, entirely a sign of a moral failing-- and our entire selves as such.

don't give me that. don't tell me that people won't look me in the eye, interpret the smallest thing as a slight when it wasn't BECAUSE of adhd (when they wouldn't do that for someone without it), and clean out my volumetric flask full of orange peels because i was "taking too long" and i "can't keep doing this" and "are you seriously crying in the lab again? you need to be cleaned up by 4:30 or im docking you points."

that's to say nothing of resulting or comorbid anxiety and depression. that's to say nothing of the way that people just don't want to fucking be around you sometimes. that's to say nothing of--

like, i GET it. i get it. this is not the most demonized thing in the world. but there's still a stigma. there's still stereotyping. and, fuck, there's still struggle interpersonally and within the person themself. that's not something you get to deny. it's not fair to. can you stop? can you please stop?

we need to destigmatize a whole slew of conditions. we need to keep people from demonizing them. we need to spread honest, factual, and fair information about them. that's true; that's going to keep being true for a really long fucking time.

but god, you don't get to use adhd as your scapegoat when you do it. that's not fair.

[spicy-lemnade]

Casavir Headcanon in the nutshell

(Low res pic, I just want small pic, okay?)

How everyone headcanon (or written) him:

"My lady." guy

a sorely gentleman (stereotype)

"My lady"

white knight (stereotype)

"m'lady"🥺

dragonborn must be his true love or something like that

"I must maintain my vow😞, though I regret taking it"😢😩

Is actually (secretly) horny. uwu

"My lady?"

also deep bass boosted voice

By "taking a vow" very seriously, it means include he should care about his "celibacy"? Just because he's very religious guy??

cares about your boundaries (positive, actually)

my lady....

Praying the divines / Tyr all day

NO SWEARING IN MY TEMPLE OF THE DIVINES😡

"BISHOP!😨😡 WHAT ARE YOU DOING HERE?🤬😤🔪🩸🩸"

"M'lady."

traits? what positive traits? (it's nothing of a value, according to them)

Also Casavir: "met many a fine lass on his travels, but none were sufficiently enticing to churn his core" (literally overused sentences in every fanfics they've written in every fandom)

Here's some verbatim for you all to understand: "he met many pretty women, but none of them are pleasurable enough for him like how dragonborn do." (not), it's very lazy writing.

my lady

my lady

m'lday

malady

m'lady

How I headcanon him:

"It's been 18 years, Bishop. You haven't pay for your crime...and your bills, you've been wasting their ale back from Neverwinter."

old ass

soft ass

sassy ass

goth ass BITCHES

was tired of Bishop's bullshit, but well.. not anymore...

"Knows what he was doing"

but if you ask, he ain't subtle. Well sometimes subtle about it, he'll speak like riddles, just like how you met one of the Stormcock soldier in Sovngarde

remind practical and observant...like how he observed Bishop's behavior and tendencies

Your tired granddad(dy) (ignore this)

is actually introvert nerd

"My lady, I guess..."

"Or my sire, perhaps?"

prefer not to label himself and you do as well respect that

definitely into deathcore

Unironically listening to "I am... All of Me." by Crush 40 from Shadow the Hedgehog ("Hey isn't this for-" SHUT THE FUCK UP)

sure, he doesn't like swearing but he will do it if he feels like it. He's not gonna freak out about it if he hears someone swearing, don't push your luck

he kinda looks like: "Cry all you want while I, as the new gen once called "the Chad", stay stoic as the paladin should do", when he doesn't make any expression that much (he will not say that tho)

His rivalry with Bishop is just as old and boring as your favorite game. Give him a fucking break, he just wants to move on ffs. I don't care about the canon, it's just a fucking game.

He's all in forgiveness, but "never forget for what they've done and hurt you"

He realized he doesn't know who they were fighting over, amnesia perhaps? Or just plain memory loss since he could recall it sometimes but he doesn't know who that is...

has depression, OCD (obsessive compulsive disorder) and terrible anxiety (or generalised anxiety disorder due to his past)

In fact, he IS The Gentleman.

I can go all I wanted to say if I ever wanted to, he deserves better.

[la-princessaa]

In weird way, this post is a long time coming. Does it matter? No. Not particularly. Not to anyone other than me, really. But I'm going through a lot right now. Like, a lot. So I figure, I don't know, just... see where I've come from. The pictures are kind of important. To see how I used to look, the little girl I used to be. Show her some love and care that she needs. She was beautiful. But also be proud of maturing, celebrate getting older, and being alive. That's what these pictures are for. I'm going through a lot in regards to my body, my appearance, autonomy, mental health, and just general change and growth. Growing up. Getting older. Being honest with myself. And also remembering who, exactly, myself is. And carving out a space for me in my own life. Surprisingly hard!

I'm drastically different from 10 years ago. Obviously. 10 years is a long fuckin time. But also I'm one of the unlucky few (or many, I don't know) who had their mental illnesses really take off in their 20s. When I was 16, I was anxious mostly, with some depression. I felt very deeply, regularly, but most of it was happy. I was very sensitive. I did cry a lot. I didn't like the way I looked but I found ways to be happy and appreciate it. I broke up with my boyfriend and honestly. I cried for about an hour. And then I was done. The rest of my teen years were rediscovering myself, dealing with newfound trauma, worsening anxiety and depression, coping terribly, coping well, starting therapy, and just learning... How to be me. Or what exactly felt right. I was super cute, also. I'm baby.

In my late teens-early 20s I discovered that I have, at the very least, OCD-like symptoms in my anxiety. That consumed my life for awhile. My rituals, intrusive thoughts, ruminations, devoured my life for awhile. But I got it back eventually. Everything was... not fantastic, but it was okay. Y'know? I don't really remember a lot from anything before the pandemic, but, hey. Who does? After the pandemic hit, though, I got bad again. So bad, I had to get on medication.

Sometime in my early 20s, I decided I did not like the way I looked. I went to the doctor, saw my weight, went home and just cried. That's always been a struggle for me. Always. Ever since I was about 8 years old, maybe younger, my weight has been a subject. Either directly with me or to my parents from family or doctors. I'm realizing I grew up very different from some of my real-life peers. They didn't have to shop at plus-sized stores and spend exorbitant amounts of money to hope clothes fit. I feel joy and a twinge of jealousy now when I see how accessible clothing is now for fat people. It's fantastic, it's wonderful, but I do feel... some grief, every time, for younger me. I didn't realize I loved fashion until I started losing weight because I couldn't fit into anything. I didn't have variety. I had expensive ass Torrid. And a body that didn't match any of the models. And it was, always, just a little punch every time I went out to buy clothes and couldn't get anything fun in most other stores. Just a slow chip away at my self esteem every time I put something on and hated the way it fit me, hated the way I wasn't the acceptable fat shaped. Hated how I couldn't go into H&M and have anything fit. I still feel this way. I've lost a lot of weight, but these still chip away at me. I'm surprised there's anything left, at this point. Put on clothes, it doesn't lay right on my body. I have so, so much loose skin and it genuinely kills me inside every time I see it.

Anyway. I hated the way I looked, so I decided to lose weight. And it helped. It created a lot of anger and grief that I still have to sift through. A lot of anger at why did nobody tell me this was all it took, how everyone made comments but nobody helped me at all. Everybody was worried for me but nobody told me how to do it RIGHT. It was all no sweets, no fun, no nothing. Atkins. Which, for a teenager who emotionally eats? Fuck that. Plus, I was fine with how I looked, really, as a teen. Some stuff hit me wrong, I had parts I didn't like, but my biggest complex was my boobs. But that was due to a boyfriend. Anyways, I changed habits, it worked and helped. Until the pandemic hit. September of 2021, I bought a dress after getting a job, which was a whole other ordeal. But I put it on. It didn't fit right. And I went "oh". Something shifted that day. And I started down a path I haven't gotten off of. I ignored it, as long as I could. I think I did well. Hell, I started dating and stopped caring after awhile. I quit my job. Gained some weight back. Had a small, like, stupid small health issue that wound up affecting my confidence, and wuh-oh. I did a sharp, sharp left turn and was now having an absolutely terrible view of my body and how I fit into the world. It kickstarted a lot of problems. I went on websites I shouldn't, wandered through parts of Twitter that would make a grown ass, confident man feel terrible about himself. Looked through things I knew would hurt me, to make it all more intense. To see more "progress". I finally spoke up about it, and was like, I gotta get better. This isn't great. Which I have done several times before and since.

And then my world exploded.

Like, big-bang, everything I knew shattered, my world tilted and has never been the same. Every ounce of trauma came back, everything I've talked about here increased to a level I've never had before. I became so, so depressed. I've always been functional in my depressive states. Responsibility has always been stronger. But this time was so different. All I did was lay in bed and cry when I wasn't walking. I, at this point, had only self-harmed occasionally, and then suddenly it was so regular. I count this as when I developed my full-on eating disorder. In my fuckin mid 20s. Suddenly nothing fit me, everything sags, and let me tell you, that does not help. It makes it all worse, actually. I became genuinely suicidal. Like, "staring at my anxiety medication longingly" suicidal. My body dysmorphia is at an all time high, even now. I'm still not out of this. It's better, it's more... I'm doing more healthy, sustainable things, but it's still. bad.

I don't recognize myself in the mirror anymore, or in my own head. Genuinely, I've forgotten who I am. As the months have gone on, I've found things that bring me joy or remember things that do, but it's like it's underwater. It's so dull. I think the last week has been the most I've felt like my old self in genuine years. I've done little things to try and fix this. I pierced my nose, which was awesome. I've had a surgery I've wanted since last year. To finally help me feel more comfortable in my skin. To take away a part of me that made me violently uncomfortable. Reclaiming my body to be mine and mine alone. I'm finally buying clothes that fit instead of "I need to gain weight, so I'll get this larger" clothes. It's just as harmful as buying clothes too small to create "goals", by the way. Because in my case, I haven't fixed what's made me drop all the weight, so I'm PETRIFIED of gaining it back. So the clothes are just baggy and don't show off what I like. I don't feel happy or confident in them. Just buy clothes that fit. Seriously.

I'm comfortable saying I'm finally on the mend. I'm not better. But I'm not laying in bed sobbing every day. I'm not self-harming every day. I still have a lot of work to do. A lot. I've become obsessed with being sexy, and desirable, that it's drowning out anything I would actually like. My depression, my eating disorder, my desperation to be accepted and desired and loved, are all drowning out anything that is me. I'm trying to get better. But Jesus, it's a struggle. I do appreciate how I've grown into my face, the nose piercing definitely does a lot. I do still wear what I enjoy, not what my brain tells me I need to wear to be sexy. It's a battle, but I have little victories, at least.

[kiwiraccoon]

Numb, Emptiness Prologue

Ateez OT8 x OC Summary: after witnessing the death of her family, her uncle sends her back to South Korea to live with the eight guys he had saved over the years. They seem to be almost, if not just, as mentally messed up as she is, and the goal is for her to help them and them to help her. Time heals, but it’s already been 11 years of suffering for her, can they really help?

overall notes: MDNI mental health: depression, anxiety, ocd, antisocial, agoraphobia, personality disorders, mental breakdowns. mentions and descriptions of gruesome deaths, gore. polygamy, shared female, suggestive, fluff, smut?, building relationships. THIS IS NOT MEANT FOR THE WEAK HEARTED OR UNDERAGE!! this not meant to depict real Ateez but an au, not about their real selves or real struggles, I took ideas from their real selves but again not meant to be negative towards them or anything against their image… THIS IS JUST MY MORBID MIND RUNNING WILD!

“Now tell us everything you remember from the beginning.” The way they look at me, I know they still think I was the one who did it. Those eyes everyone gives me screaming I’m a psychopath or a sociopath. All because I can’t express my emotions, how I wish they could hear my screams from within my mind telling them I feel it all.

“I wasn’t supposed to be home, but I decided to visit for the night since my brother just won a baseball game for his high school. When I got home I didn’t see any other cars besides my parents’. I opened the door and everyone, my family and some masked strangers, looked at me in shock. And I just stood there, then they jumped into action.” Each word slips through my lips in my boring monotone voice that I have zero control over, even when I explained it the first time my voice showed zero care.

I still remember it all so clearly, vividly. It had only happened a few hours ago, and usually someone who experienced something so traumatic wouldn’t be able to remember every little detail but I do. From the moment they tied my hands like amateurs behind my back to the bullets ripping through my family’s skulls. Even the way the warm red liquid seeped through my favorite pair of jeans to reach my recently cleaned skin. 

I remember my body fitting me as I faked my emotions to make it seem like it cared, at least enough to feed their sick and twisted desires. My parents believed I finally showed emotions, at least they died thinking their daughter was no longer a burden that they could torment. The only person in that room I cared about even a tiny bit was my brother, only because he was young and just had the best day of his life. He didn’t get to feel my real love when he joined in with my family to ruin me even more thinking it would help.

I should have cared, I know that. It’s wrong that even deep inside, where I had feelings, I didn’t want to cry or scream. Instead I sat there with my hands untied pretending to cry both outwardly and on the inside. 

“The second they left I called you guys.” As the last words left my mouth someone burst into the interrogation room and on the inside I felt relief flood through my veins. The cocky cops in front of me look at the man standing in the doorway wearing a face of anger and disappointment directed towards them.

I wish I could smile at the way fear takes over their features when they recognize him. “Benny what the hell are you doing here?”

“Saving my niece from the likes of you. You know she can’t express emotions that doesn’t mean she fucking killed her family you disgusting pigs. Come on Juney let’s go honey.” At his words I outstretch my hands towards the two shirking men across the table awaiting the release from these tight cuffs.

They waste no time in setting me free, they know how deep in shit they are that my uncle is here. His time working as a cop with them was spent outranking them faster than they made it out of Park patrol and into the streets. “Benny, she was there.”

“And she already told you everything in full detail, find those men instead of trying to make her the killer you wish she was.” I send a bored look their way as I walk past my uncle who turns sideways in the threshold to let me through and make eye contact with the chief of police. He sends me an apologetic nod and half smile before making his way into the room. My uncle closes the door behind him on the way out and I feel the shit eating grin hiding behind my mask when I hear his reprimands and shouts being thrown in their hopefully guilt filled faces.

My uncle places his hand on my lower back as he leads me out of the precinct and to his rental car, no words are spoken, they aren’t needed between us. He is the only family I truly have, even before today.

“I’m taking you back to South Korea with me, when we get to your place, take a shower and we can start packing.”

“Thank you.” Even though my words are void of anything resembling gratitude, the looks he throws me as he pulls on the road shows me he knows I don’t just mean for taking me out of this hell hole.

[firsttarotreader]

If we read the “symptoms” for every disorder there is online, we have everything all at once.// girl! This. I’ve officially been diagnosed with anxiety and depression, and I do have clear signs of ocd. But I have some mental issues because the Universe said “let’s dump kilos of trauma on this one” and the internet is telling me I have ptsd, adhd, I’m autistic and whatever the fuck else I find. Which I obviously don’t accept nor believe because as you said, it can’t just be diagnosed like that. It would be nice for people to stop diagnosing him, it’s not that far from labeling his sexuality. It’s just another way of labeling. We’re all humans and therefore flawed, and whatever he has going on it’s his business. Look at the state of the world, and how society is designed to keep us unhappy. That’s just being human on planet Earth in this century 🤷‍♀️ I’m not saying he’s fully mentally stable, he had his fair share of trauma, he gave hints of struggling sometimes and your tarots show that too (if it’s real what the results say, I also don’t say it is) but that’s where it should end in terms of landing on a diagnosis. Just my opinion

Honestly it’s not even just with Pedro. I see this being done everywhere. It’s like a trend to just diagnose everyone with ADHD and autism. Like bro, NO, just NO.

Oh, and bad mothers who are selfish or/and abusive as hell are not necessarily “narcissists” (as in having a disorder).