#I Am Getting A Good Grade At Being A Therapist Something That Is Normal To Want And Possible To Achieve etc

[gaybichon]

i love all my clients equally but especially this boy who is always very earnestly like "wow that's a great question!!! :o" every time i ask him anything

[cascowriteswords]

bite me

Clarke should have seen this coming. The signs have been there all along. 

“There is such thing as too much garlic, Clarke.”

“The sun is hurting my eyes.” 

“My skin is sensitive, Clarke, I can only wear gold or medical grade titanium.”

“This is the skin of a killer, Clarke.”

Okay, maybe not that last one. 

But still, the signs were all there, all these years. It was only her own naivety that prevented her from predicting this earlier on. 

“So, vampire, hm?” she hums as Lexa jogs down the stairs, velvety black collar popped up around the slender column of her neck, coattails flowing behind her. “I didn’t peg you for team Edward.”

“I’m not,” Lexa answers smoothly, pecking Clarke’s cheek as she takes the mug of coffee held out toward her, leaving a black outline of her lips in their wake. “Party City was fresh out of werewolf costumes. But I’m not team Jacob, I’m team Seth - the only good character.”

“I see,” Clarke says coyly. “Remember when I said you should pick out a costume a few weeks ago? Instead of the night before Halloween?” 

Lexa is buzzing around the kitchen, spreading avocado onto her toast and grabbing pickled onions from the fridge. It’s an ironically vegetarian breakfast for someone with painted-on blood dribbling from the corners of her mouth. “Are you saying you think the kids won’t like my costume, Clarke?”

Working as a physical therapist in an outpatient pediatric clinic means going all out for Halloween isn’t optional. Lexa’s kiddos would be so disappointed if their favorite clinician wasn’t dressed up, and getting 3 year olds to focus on PT is hard enough on a normal day. She has all sorts of spooky themed games and obstacle courses planned for the day.

“Of course not, they’ll love it. They love you.”

“I love you,” Lexa quickly says, eyes flicking up to meet Clarke’s in a way that somehow still makes her stomach swoop even 3 years in. 

“I love you,” Clarke answers, grinning affectionately at her sweet golden retriever girlfriend as she eats her toast in full vampire garb as their tiny bistro table. “Are you going to ask what I think about your costume?” 

Lexa quirks a brow inquisitively, peering at Clarke over the top of her mug as she takes a sip of coffee. “What do you think of my costume, love?”

Clarke moves away from the counter she’d been leaning against and prowls forward, as if she’s the one dressed as a lethal predator instead of Lexa, intently focused on her target. When she reaches the table she rests one hand on its edge and the other on the back of Lexa’s chair, caging her in. “I think,” she says, ducking down to press her lips to the hinge of Lexa’s jaw which earns her a lovely, pretty breathy sound from her girlfriend, “You might be the one dressed as a vampire, but I’m going to be eating you tonight.” Lexa swallows thickly and Clarke grins; nips at her neck, feels the pulse fluttering beneath her tongue as it laves over the skin there. 

When she leans back Lexa’s eyes follow her, pupils a bit wider and darker than they were just a moment ago which suits her costume quite nicely. Clarke reaches out and runs a thumb along Lexa’s bottom lip, cleaning up the edge of her black lipstick. “I’m going back to bed for a little while,” she tells Lexa. “Have a great day at work, honey. And happy Halloween.” 

“Clarke,” Lexa whines. “How am I meant to focus at all today now.”

“You’re a highly intelligent and cunning immortal being, you’ll figure something out.”

She skitters up the stairs smugly, already knowing how tightly wound Lexa will be when she returns home in 9 hours.

Already more than a little excited to unwind her.

[catiuskaa]

new task: valentine’s day (ACTS)

A/N: reposting by acts! [see full version here]. wanted to see if this format works better (and yes i will squeeze everything in this one right here cause its amazing and i 100% worked my ass off on it)

PAIRING! seungmin x reader ; enemies/rivals2lovers!

SUMMARY: boring classes, boring classmates, boring assignments…to seungmin, everyone is boring even if he’s used to pretend otherwise, but you seem to get on his nerves. you, your stupid poem, and his stupid letter.

WC: 3.150k

CW: fluffy comfort, use of spanglish (not relevant to the plot, dw), use of text format, the reader is stupidly short (which i know all about), academic rivals, bad student reader x good student seungmin, mentions of the unability to deal with complicated feelings, mentions of masking feelings, slight hint of bullying, mentions of being followed, (pet)names: little one, shortie, shortcake, smallable, pretty, hyunjin as a walking therapist, and the ending is kind of a reference to a show i'm obsessed with (not gonna say it so i don't spoil it for you guys hehehe)

|PROLOGUE| |ACT 1| |ACT 2| |ACT 3|

[☆★🌷★☆]

{ACT 1: NOT A LOVEFOOL… YET}

To be in the same class group than him was slightly tolerable.

Is what you’d like to say if you were in a good mood. But it wasn’t the case.

You were mad. As fuck.

“I just need you to give it a chance,” Miss Fernández stated once more, and you had to hold back to not roll your eyes at her.

“But Miss. I know that this subject is difficult and that he could, uh, help me out with the project,” you muttered reluctantly, because on normal circumstances, you wouldn’t go as far as to let Kim Seungmin help you with chemistry. Not ever.

You weren’t in need of help that desperatly.

And that was a fact, not a matter of ifs, buts, or maybes. That was an absolute. Something that lovely-yet-not-so-much teacher Lucía Fernández, spanish accent and all, was not getting.

“Listen. We both know that your grade is the best I can offer considering your behaviour in my class, despite of your average knowledge of the subject. And in this case, I am offering to set that aside if you work on these following assignments with your classmate Seungmin.”

Her harsh tone was also an absolute, and that made you clench your jaw. You blamed Lucas for her attitude towards you —after all, that one accident with a Bunsen Burner had been mostly his fault—, but you breathed in, trying to offer your most pity-inducing grin.

Judging by her glare, it wasn’t working.

“Miss, I—”

“I’m sorry.” She didn’t look like she was. “It’s my last word. And I think that after coming three days to my office on each of your free periods, this is getting a bit tiring.” She sighed, adjusting her glasses by a soft push of her finger.

Nope. She definetely wasn’t sorry.

Witholding a groan you left her office, and huffed as the door closed behind you, swiftly heading to meet your group of friends when they got out of their Biology lesson in other building within the school grounds.

It was a chilly evening, maybe not too much from what one could expect for the first week of February, still one that made you hide your face in your scarf and you hands in your jacket pockets.

You settled your headphones where they belonged, humming to the music to hold back the need to rant and rave against your chemistry teacher, when your phone dinged.

< henry li🫧: everything ok? saw you in lucifer’s office rn

< henry li🫧: did you do smth again? you cheekyyy 🙊

You gingerly laughed, and started typing out your answer, when, out of nowhere, you bumped against someone, making all of the books that they were carrying fall down of their grasp.

You pursed your lips, then pressed them in a thin line. Staring at their— his back, you saw that his backpack was almost empty. Why the fuck would he carry all of his books on his hands then?

The guy had quickly bent down to get his books back, and you followed too, taking your headphones off and quickly trying to prevent the papers from getting wet because of the floor, that was damp from the rain before, when your hands softly brushed against each other, still, you forced yourself to ignore it.

“I’m so…” the word dissapeared in your mouth.

“It’s ok, don’t… oh.” He blinked, his face showing nothing. For fuck’s sake.

Why did it always have to be him?

He swiftly took all of the things from you, as if your touch could be worse than the wet floor. You frowned, feeling a cold shiver trail up your spine, and you crossed your arms in front of you, struggling to seek some warmth.

“Watch it, little one.” He mocked with a light smirk. “I might accidentally step on you one day.”

You looked at him through your eyelashes. What. An. Idiot. You passed a hand through your hair, chuckling dryly.

“I-,” you sighed, shaking your head sideways. “Nah, you know what? I don’t have time for this crap.” You smiled at him widely, full of sarcasm.

But just when you were about to leave, you felt a tug at your sleeve, the fabric of your shirt not thick enough to hide the warmth of Seungmin’s grasp on your forearm. You frowned, confused at the lack of any uncomfortable feelings because of it. There was none, but rather a need to cover yourself with it and wear it like a jacket.

“Did you fix it?”

You blinked, trying to get your brain to focus on his words.

“Huh?”

He rolled his eyes, but his hand didn’t move an inch. “You said you were going to talk to Miss Fernández so we wouldn’t be partners, which is, well, so mature, congratulations,” he tsked, but then continued. “But did it work?”

You licked your lips and swallowed, your throat feeling dry. What was going on? You needed to focus.

In a harsh motion, you moved your arm away from his grasp. You forced yourself to ignore how your skin missed it.

“I… no. She settled. You- I mean… we…” the word felt awkward when it rolled off your tongue.

We? There was no such thing in between Seungmin and you. No we, no us, no nothing. And it was like that for a reason. One that you had almost forgotten with how softly his slender and warm hand had been holding your forearm. Ugh.

As you struggled to say those infamous words, your phone dinged again, and you mumbled a short “oh, wait,” and unlocked it.

< henry li🫧: leaving me on read, shortcake?

Seungmin stared at your phone, shoving his hands on his pockets when he saw you smile at the bright screen. He bit his lower lip. He hadn't taken all of his stuff out of his backpack just for this.

“So,” he licked his lips, and it almost shocked you the sudden roughness on his tone and demeanour. “Chemistry is easy. We can meet up on Friday in the public library. An hour or two should be enough, even for someone with a fun-sized brain like yours.” He chuckled meanly, the motherfucker.

Ever since that stupid text from him, you had made it your mission to surpass him, or at least reach his level, and to be honest, you were even succeding in some cases, like philosophy, art history, spanish, technical drawing and business studies. But Chemistry?

Chemistry would always kick you in the ass.

Before you were able to come up with a comeback for his stupid snicker, the bell rang, and you felt an arm laying its weight on your shoulders.

“Smallable!” Lucas laughed, then realized that you were talking to a certain someone and ful Ty ly gasped. “Oh my god. Are you two finally dating and I interrupted— AH!” He was interrupted by your elbow hitting his side. Noa and Atenea chuckled behind him.

“No. Seungmin was just leaving.” You huffed with a frown, but then you smiled, almost excessively, like a small maniac. “Right?”

But before he was able to reply or mock you, Atenea spoke, ruining your chances of kicking him away.

“But we all have English now,” she said, and if it had been someone else, like Lucas, you would’ve stepped on his shoe or something. “We’re going to the same place, we can go together.”

Seungmin felt you stare intensively at him. He smiled at Atenea, finding that he enjoyed having you look at him, reason why he loved annoying the shit out of you.

“Sure!” He smiled politely, almost sheepishly, and you bit your lip to hold back the need to scoff at his 'obviously fake' kindness.

Because except for you, the rest of your class —heck, probably the rest of the school— were smitten with Kim Seungmin.

Top of the class, funny, kind, and cutely introverted Kim Seungmin was just a dorky student who tried to get along with everyone.

But that was wrong. And you may not have any proof aside from his mean attitude towards you and only you, but you knew it.

Seungmin had to be more than just a pretty boy with high grades, and it was only with you that he proved you right.

You stayed next to Lucas, hoping that Seungmin would at least stay with your friends and ignore you.

But to your horror, he smiled at you, a pink dust on his cheeks. “If you don’t mind?”

Oh, son of a bitch.

“No… it’s whatever.” You huffed.

Because against his dorky self, to the rest of your class —heck, to the rest of the school— you were the quote on quote “bad student.”

Troublesome, mean, class clown? Check. You laughed at teachers in class with Lucas far more than what could be ignored, the dresscode had always been more of a guide in what to wear, unlike what most students usually followed, and you may have been expelled a bunch of times.

Even if you were somewhat kind to the people in school, and even if they all knew your rivalry with Seungmin, God forbid you were mean to him.

You wouldn’t see the end of it.

And he knew it.

Bitch.

So there you were, walking to English class with your friends plus innocent Seungmin —who no one had called, not even the ghostbusters—, who was snickering and giggling with Atenea about who-gives-a-shit. Something class-related. You couldn’t be bothered to listen.

Lucas chuckled next to you.

“Careful, Spongebob.” He laughed. “Some could say you seem jealous.”

…WHAT?!

“Of… of Kim Seungmin?” You snorted. “Are you on drugs?”

He ruffled your hair. “Sure, sure, keep lying to yourself, shortie.”

Finally, you arrived to class, but before you stepped inside, Seungmin stopped you, whispering in your ear.

“Yeah, shortie.” He teased, his lips almost grazing the shell of your ear. “Don’t be too jealous. We wouldn’t want everyone to know you love me.”

His whisper would’ve been almost enticing if it weren’t for the fact that it was Kim Seungmin the man in question, and he snickered, pushing his glasses back.

But then someone cleared his throat behind you two.

“Care to sit down? I don’t have all day.” Mister Holmes grunted, carrying a monster drink and a coffe at the same time.

That mas was slightly terryifing.

You squinted at Seungmin and then walked to your place at the back of the class, hoping that your cheeks felt warm because of how the teacher had startled you and definetely not your classmate’s honey-like voice.

“Pssst. Heeey,” Noa smiled teasingly, whispering with a smirk. “Pssst. You’re blushing…!”

“Shut up!” You frowned at her, but you were unable to hold back a smile. But it was because of your friend Noa. Not Kim Seungmin.

Mr Holmes cleared his throat, and finished off his monster, throwing it to the bin.

“So. I’ve been hearing from some students in the hallways that you’re all excited for saint valentines’ day.” He stated in a strong voice, one that filled the class with little to no effort. “And sadly so, I was thinking of putting an exam that Wednesday…” he faked a sigh, and you had to hold back a laugh, contrary to the frowns and groans that appeared in your classmates faces. Pfft, what a character. “Unless… you guys want to do something in true valentines fashion.”

Mr Holmes crossed his arms, laying back on his chair, his stare cold and face lacking any kind of emotions.

“Say… any ideas, Mr… Kim?”

Seungmin sat up straight at his name being mentioned, and you rolled your eyes, holding back a mocking smirk.

“I ugh… I wouldn’t want to bother my classmates with a lot of work, sir… but maybe… maybe a writing assingment related to the topic would be… enough?” Seungmin stated, his tone soft and shy, and there was even a blush that trailed up from his neck, but he stayed staight and firm as he spoke.

“A valentine-themed task.” Mr Holmes enunciated as he pondered. “It’s a… decent idea. Any complaints?”

You felt some of your classmates’ eyes on you, and you sighed, crossing your arms in front of you, remaining silent. As long as it wasn’t an exam, you’d accept whatever.

“With that settled, I’ll upload the task online this afternoon, but it’ll have to be written by hand. Be sure to hand in a picture of your assignment on time, or your final grade will be affected.” The teacher turned on his laptop, and started taking assistance.

[☆★🌷★☆]

Time had passed dreadfully slowly, until the bell rang and Mr Holmes dissmissed all of you so everyone could leave for the day.

“A valentine-themed task.” You huffed in annoyance as you stuffed your locker with books you weren’t going to take home.

“I thought it was original.” A voice snickered lowly behind you, and you slapped your locker close, smiling at him.

“Well, Henry. It’s no surprise your taste sucks.”

You chuckled when he rolled his eyes.

“I was waiting for your reply,” he mentioned with a soft tone.

You closed your locker, and you two started walking together. “Oh, sorry, I totally forgot,” you apologized with a smile, but he brushed it off. “Yeah, I was with Lucifer earlier. She’s making me work with Seungmin for this term’s assignments.”

Henry frowned. “And we hate that guy… right…” you chuckled.

“Exactly. We don’t like him.”

“So then, don’t do it. You were going to meet him to study, right?” You nodded, smirking slightly at him.

“We agreeded to meet on Friday to start, in the library.” You added, watching his smirk widen. “What are you thinking?”

He stopped walking, smiling at you. “There’s this club that opened recently. Been wanting to go have a look. Apparently, it’s like exclusive and shit. And it’s Friday.” His light-coloured eyes shined as he looked at you. “Meet me there?”

You grinned cheekily.

“Sure. Can’t wait.”

[☆★🌷★☆]

You hadn’t noticed Seungmin on the school bus until this year.

Because he had made himself noticeable, sitting at the back of the bus, a couple seats away from you, but oh, dorky Seungmin was always friend of everyone, sheepishly starting conversation with any kinds of people in the bus, no matter the year they were in.

Before his text, you had even thought he was cute as he gingerly chatted with a group of kids who were probably starting high school.

“Is it too difficult?” A little girl asked.

And it surprised you how he turned to her and smiled, almost tugging at your heart strings, eyes like crescent moons.

“It’s only difficult if you stop trying. And we don’t give up, right?” He stated cheerfuly, and all the kids shined at his sheepish and bashful brightness, high-fiving the girl that talked to him.

You forced yourself to shove those memories to the back of your mind. That Seungmin wasn’t real. And you didn’t like him. The real him. Right?

“Oi, Kim Seungmin.” You called, as it was only you two left on the bus.

He was surprised at your call, but only side-eyed at you, lazily raising his brows, signalling that he was listening. You frowned.

See? You thought to yourself. He’s mean. He isn’t sweet, nor cute. Focus.

“What kind of lame ass idea was that?” You huffed with a mean smile. “A valentine-themed assignment.” You snorted.

His bus stop was close, so he ignored you as he picked up his coat and backpack, but you kept on talking. “You know? Hallmark office called, they want their boring clichés back,” you mocked, laughing.

Backpack on and coat hanging on his arm, he stared at you, and waited for a red light to walk to your seat.

He settled next to you, still staring at you as you chimed mean remarks about his originality and such and such.

“Anything else to mumble? I couldn’t hear you from down there.” He snorted meanly, and you were too focused on annoying him that you didn’t notice his stare at your lips as he licked his own.

You rolled your eyes. “You’re such a lame guy. He gave you the chance to choose, and you chose that piece of—?!”

His lips tasted as sweet as his voice that day with those little kids.

You felt his hand slowly creep up and cradle your face, his eyes closed as he kissed you, and slowly, your eyes closed too.

It was sweet. So sweet. But what was it? It was a flavour that you knew. Its sweetness was so familiar, but you couldn’t seem to figure out what was it.

You kissed him back, and he let out a surprised whine as you sighed, your hands, which had been frozen on his shoulders, waiting for your order to push him away, slowly followed up and remained on his face, your thumbs almost stroking his cheeks.

You wanted needed to know what he tasted like.

But it was when your hands went into his hair that he sighed too, melting under your touch, that your brain clicked.

…

what were you doing?

…

WHAT WERE YOU DOING?!

You pushed him away, and your breath hitched.

He didn’t look like fake Seungmin.

In front of you was not the innocent boy who had straight A’s and was shy enough to not be able to say no to a lot of things, who sheepishly spoke up in class, or who treated everyone with a bashful kindness that was so endearing.

This Seungmin was different. His glasses had a bit of a fog in them, his hair was all messed up, and his lips were plush, pink from your tinted gloss and slightly swollen from your kiss.

This Seungmin was a wreck, all flustered and kissable, and he looked like a mess.

But it felt real.

And for a second, you wanted to kiss him again, yearning to figure what that kiss tasted like, the word for it almost in the tip of your tongue.

He panted, struggling to catch his breath.

“Finally,” he huffed with a smile, but his dark eyes didn’t match the mocking in his tone. A small part of your mind thought that they looked prettier than any light eyes you had ever seen. “So you were able to shut up, after all.” He gulped, still panting.

He moved away from you slowly, as you remained there, frozen, like a piece of art in front of him, cheeks blushed, lips flushed and parted as your eyes stared at him, an emotion much different from this evening.

He found himself enjoying this one even more.

“Eh… T-this is my bus stop.” He muttered when the bus stopped. Maybe it wasn’t, but he didn’t care. He felt like he would have the energy to run home if needed. “I-I’ll… see you tomorrow.”

You blinked as he stood up and walked away.

What…

What had just happened?

[☆★🌷★☆]

[velvette3]

Draft #2

WARNINGS: long post, rant post, mentions of sh and suicide, and a lot of other things, personal rant(s), LIKE REALLY LONG POST, please do not read unless you think you are comfortable with repetition, and idk what else. I am a warning in itself.

(4/2/24) (mentions of sh and suicide)

It’s 1:38 in the morning. I don’t really know anymore. I’m just so worried I won’t amount to anything. My stepsister has always been better than me at everything. I still remember my middle school and high school years when I heard my mother and step-father talking shit about their kids, about my step-brothers. But I hardly ever heard them utter a bad word about my step-sister. I became something I didn’t want to be in my high school years, in hopes I could live up to my sister, hoping maybe it would make sure I wasn’t the next kid they talked shit about.

I already knew at the time that they didn’t really take me seriously back then. Not when it came to my morals anyways.

At times when one or the other was driving, I would have to text the other. And that was when visiting my father was mandatory. So every once in awhile, the message would pop up “you pick up the brat yet?”

I know they never meant it in that way. At least I hoped not. But honestly being someone I wasn’t, and being someone I’m not still, to this day, it sucks. I hate having to pretend to my parents, even to this day, despite my independence. I’m just so worried about acceptance, that I find it hard to face them. I fear telling my parents (on both sides) anything.

Mainly, because when they first found out about the self harm in middle school, it was a difficult situation. They said they wanted to help me. And then they took me to a therapist for a total of three-five times before they said ‘this isn’t working fast enough’ and pulled me out of it. I was always scared of being yelled at when I made mistakes. That lead to me fearing ever telling my parents anything, including my own emotions.

For a long time, once I finally lived with my mother again, I never saw her cry. I only ever saw her angry, or happy. But I never saw her sad. That made me think that being sad wasn’t normal, or that, I shouldn’t be sad about anything because she wasn’t. The reason she hid any of her sadness was because she didn’t want her own child worrying about her.

But her hiding her own emotions from me made me feel like I had to suppress mine as well. So I never trusted my parents with my emotions, either.

But I guess it didn’t help that they always said I was either ‘overreacting’ or just being a ‘drama queen’. Go this day idk if they were right, or if they were just, avoiding it.

I don’t know which one I’d want it to be. Because if they were wrong, and that my emotions were actually valid, what would that mean for me? For them? Would it make it seem like they had neglected my own emotional and mental well-being? If they were wrong, if they thought because of my overreacting and drama queen the fancies that my emotions weren’t valid, then what is the limit to validate emotions? What would it have taken for them to stop accusing me of overreacting or being a drama queen?

They never made me feel valid. They still don’t. The only good throng I’ve done so far with my life, is get good grades. It’s been so long since I heard one of my parents (step or not) say they were proud of me, so when they got the letter in the mail about my good grades in online schooling, when that happened and they said they were proud, I almost cried.

It’s strange.

For a long time back in middle school-high school, I desperately wanted to die. I didn’t want to live in a world where everyone would judge me for my smallest of mistakes and ignore my feats.

I knew that, being the youngest, I was my parents last chance to have a child they were proud of. Everyone else but my stepsister had failed to be a kid that my parents were proud of (or at least didn’t talk shit about). I knew that if I didn’t want to be talked shit about, I’d either have to leave, or change.

I was so done, with the world. I hated myself for my failures, I hated the way I had been raised. But I also hated myself, because I had no reason to. Im not living on the streets, I have a family, I have food, I had shelter. I shouldn’t have been sad. “It couldve been worse”, as the mentality goes. I didn’t deserve to be sad, and it made me feel worse. I felt like all I was doing was trying to gain attention, even though that’s not what I wanted. I thought I was being selfish because of my own emotions, and it still gets fucked in my head sometimes.

Back in my freshman year of high school, a girl (which for the sake of her identity and name I will not be naming), had hung herself in her closet. Rumor was because she was having problems at home.

Way back in middle school, even. A girl in my 8th grade year tried to kill herself. She planned it all out. She wanted to hang herself in the bathroom, and if she couldn’t do that, she had some sort of sharp object to try and slit her throat. She couldn’t hang herself, and she cut her throat, barely enough to bleed. It was not deep or long enough to kill her, only to sting. When her parents saw the injury on her neck, she got in trouble for it, and was threatened to sent to a mental hospital, with padded walls.*

I knew both those girls, in a sense. And I knew that the one from high school had it worse than I did. I felt shitty. I felt like I had no reason to be sad.

Like I had no validation, because I wasn’t supposed to show that much emotion in front of others, because what I learned from my mother without her knowing, was to surppress the sadness. I want to amount to something, I want to be something my family can be proud of. I don’t want to be the next disgrace, I don’t want to be the person without control of her emotions. I don’t want to become a failure because I lost, or because I couldn’t do what I needed to do.

4/5/2024

Time is going by so quick, it’s killing me. Just today with my grandmother. I went to stay with my father for the weekend, so I’m going back to her house Sunday night to spend the eclipse with her. But as she left the house which I’m staying with my father and his girlfriend, I feared ‘what if this is the last time I see her?’

She is less than 20 years younger than my GREAT grandmother who died only a few months ago.

I love this grandmother with all my heart (I’ll call her grandma J from now on), and I’d hate to see her die, at all. I’m literally going to see her on Sunday, only two days from now, why am I worrying so much? Why did I wonder if it would be the last time I see her?

I’m so scared. I’d be lost without her, she has been my rock for a long time. Even though she is heavily Christian, and I don’t feel as connected, I always feel better after spending some time with her, (whether we speak of God or not). I grew up, spending every other weekend with her instead of my father, because he wasn’t able to take care of me where he lived for a long time. I lived with Angela (another grandmother of mine who I HATE) for the first seven years of my life. Spending every other weekend with my Mother, and the weekends I didn’t spend with my mom, I spent with Grandma J. Things have changed heavily since then, I barely remember that time in my life.

But my grandma J. She means everything to me. I always leave her house happier than when I left it. No one else does that for me.

I’m so, so fucking TERRIFIED, of who I’ll be, where I’ll be mentally, when she’s gone.

I’m so so scared…

(4/8/2024)

It’s 12:41, so technically eclipse day. Had a serious talk w my grandmother. I told her I was Ace, (not the pan-romantic part, but yk) and she was pretty okay w it. Especially when I told her I wasn’t gonna have children of my own creation (I might adopt, cause I wanna make a home to those kids who don’t have one yk?) and I just got really emotional. It doesn’t matter how many times I fucking say it, I am so scared to lose her. I cried, thinking this may be the last time I see her. You never know. She almost got hit on her way to see me on Thursday last week! I know she might be gone soon and I am not ready for it. It may be a last time for everything, and I’m so so so fucking scared words can’t even describe it. Not through type/text. If I were recording myself, you’d hear my ugly crying, and my voice in general breaking so no. But the point is, I dunno what’s gonna happen. My future, and hers, scares me to death. When she’s gone… I may as well be too.

So if I disappear for a long time, you will know why.

If I go batshit crazy (whether it’s lashing out, or self-isolation, or pretending to be fine [ya know, the stages of grief]) you know why.

This woman is one of my few rocks. My grandmother, and my eldest blood brother, who I shall call ‘E’ for the sake of keeping their identities secret.

I, don’t know what’ll happen to me once either of them are gone. Same with my parents, but I trust my brother and grandmother more than I do them, so it will be harder to lose them, as much as it may seem crazy to say.

I’m scared. I know I keep saying it, but every day I spend, is another closer to my grandmother’s inevitable death. I hate the thought, yet it keeps coming back since my GREAT grandmother died a few months ago. It’s not fun.

I hate feeling this terrified.

I feel paralyzed, like a record skipping, the never ending thought(s).

It’s horrible.

(4/12/24) 12:43 am

I don’t think I’m good enough.

I keep failing myself and others, over and over again. I want to help people, but it’s so fucking frustrating when they won’t accept it. I get it, sometimes it’s hard to accept help. But (per specific example) when I’m asked for help for the smallest of things like understanding some work, and you apologize a million times, it hurts. I hate seeing people I care about apologizing. I don’t know how to help them because they refuse to let me do so. I just, feel like I’m failing them. I can’t help them and it makes me feel like shit.

I wanna help people. At this point, the people I care about, and my drive to help them always, is the only reason I’m alive. The past few years since I last therapied someone, have been shitty. I hadn’t been able to help others and it just went by so fast, and almost without any emotion. It was awful, I felt lost. I lost my will to write, read, and draw. I lost everything about myself. When I picked up drawing again I cried because I thought I lost what little talent I had because it was shit at first. I don’t even know who I am. Am I even who I used to be, or am I a carbon copy of my successful step-sister?

I forced myself to change in high-school so my parents would be proud of me, so that I would be successful.

So I wouldn’t struggle in my future, so I could get a scholarship to college so I wouldn’t be drowning in debt like my mother was most of my life.

I just wanted a steady life. And one without the shit talk my parents would do behind their kids’s backs.

Fuck I’m so tired of it.

I feel so useless damnit. I feel worthless. I don’t want to be here anymore, I just want peace. Because these thoughts, these voice keep coming back no matter what. Telling me I’m not good enough, that I don’t try hard enough and that I’m too lazy, that I make up excuses. But when I try to say I did try, they always say I didn’t push myself enough. I dunno, do I not try hard enough? I dunno. I’m just so sick of this endless battle and I want it to be done. One day I want those people to realize it was an act. I want my parents to realize that they fucked me up. That they put too much expectation on me without their own realization. I want them to know that the therapy they took from me only made it worse. Then being upset over one singular missing assignment (that we’re hardly ever my fault) only made it worse. That threatening to put me in an asylum at the age of 13 only made it worse. That talking shit about my step-siblings right in front of me only made my fear worse. That hiding their emotions from me only made it worse. Cause god fucking damnit I’m scared of you now! I’m scared to come to you for anything! I have to contact my brother, or my grandmother! And one day I might not even have them! You say I can trust you with anything but then you turn around and call me a drama queen, that I’m being too sensitive, that I’m overreacting, making up excuses, being a liar, just being lazy, not trying as hard as you know I can, stop making things a competition.

God damnit, what am I even doing? I’m nothing, nothing but a failure. I should be trying harder but here I am, still being lazy. And I’m just blaming everyone for it when it’s all my fault.

(4/13/24)

^i didn’t move on to someone else four days later. Just because me and my bf were friends didn’t mean we were together. And I never, EVER cheated on her. Sure, I found someone new and he’s my bf now, but at the same time me and her, we both realized we were never romantic with each other. And I broke up with her? She was the one who approached me and said that she felt like her feelings for me weren’t being returned (which was true, I realized. We called each other girlfriends but I felt like she was nothing more to a friend to me) and I thought she was okay with it. Mind you when she came up to me I thought she was going to ask me to an event, but instead she called it off. I thought it would be better suited that way anyways, and we both agreed on that but I did NOT break up with her! And apparently, when she talked to me, she was scared to tell me that I offended her every once in awhile by some things I said (which she never said what do I still don’t know and it’s fucking killing me), ^because she thought I was gonna blow up at her. Apparently I fucking scared them and I don’t even know I didn’t realize they felt that way and just about a month ago I get this message on top of it like.

I probably should’ve realized I was a piece of shit. I was just like that bitch from high school we all collectively hated. God I’m so fucking sorry…

I thought we were still friends. This is a message I got from them through my old asf Wattpad account that is cringe. That I stopped checking until I saw that post today. They never intended for me to read that message so soon. They even said so themselves but fuck.

I’m sorry, to you both. I know you’ll never see this. But I’m so so so sorry, I didn’t realize.

I’m trying I am TRYING to never do this again but I still do this shit to people, don’t I? I just Fuckin manipulate and hurt them. I can’t just, spout off my trauma or whatever the fuck and shit like that! I know that now and I feel so fucking bad damnit… I didn’t realize I promise I am so sorry.

Why didn’t you say anything? I should’ve noticed, you shouldn’t have HAD to say anything after the fact I should’ve just known. Why can’t I see these things? I never see red flags, I never see my OWN red flags and manipulate tendencies until someone points them out. Why can’t I read social cues and shit?

God I’m trying, but I’m not at all, am I?

I just hate that I didn’t realize! I didn’t break up with her she broke up with me! We both agreed it was better, but I guess she was a lot more hurt by it than she let on and I thought we resolved things but. God fucking damnit.

I can’t ever do this to anyone I REFUSE! I can’t do this, I can’t put this pressure on people ever again, I don’t want to push them away. I never want this to happen again I don’t want to hurt people like this again.

I lost my two closest friends. And I didn’t even fucking realize it.

Fuck I don’t know what I’m going to do. I already apologized like a million times for scaring them with my slight anger issues, but I never actually hurt hurt them physically I didn’t realize I lashed out at them and I didn’t realize I was forcing them to listen to my problems. I thought they were okay with helping me but they didn’t say anything all because they were scared and I just.

I’m fucking freaking out, but I need to calm down. I need to calm down, and just breathe, and everything will be fine. Fuck it’s now 1:14 am I shouldn’t be thinking right now it’s dangerous.

But fucking damnit, I knew I shouldn’t have just dumped all my shit onto them but FUCK.

I need a fucking therapist for that, not my FUCKING FRIENDS.

God what is wrong with me, making my friends my therapists?

Fuck. I lost my friends, I almost have no one left Irl except for this one small friend group, which has drama and way too many sex jokes for me to even want to be IN it anymore. But they’re all I got and we stick together until the end. Most days I don’t mind it, but sometimes I hate being one of the only girls in said friend group.

Fuck I don’t know what to do, I can’t tell my bf about this or else he’ll flip, and I can’t make him my therapist, that’s wrong I was told so! My bf has had it so much worse than I have I shouldn’t be freaking out about this as much, this is nothing compared to what him and so many others have gone through.

But damnit. I DONT have a therapist, not anymore, and I can’t ducking afford one or even talk my parents into helping me get one because as said before they think the process is too damn slow. I can’t fucking tell anyone without feeling bad and knowing I’m a shitty person, because until now I didn’t realize telling people my problems was a bad thing, that asking them to help me out as if they were my fucking therapist (WHICH THEY ARENT AM I STUPID? To just dump all that shit on them without them even saying if it was okay or not?) was a bad thing.

So I’m alone, but that’s fine. I can’t tell anyone anyways so that’s how it’s gotta be and I can live with that. I have for awhile. But I don’t want to be alone. But I’d rather struggle alone than hurt anyone else because I don’t want to lose anyone else, or hurt them, or push them away or scare them like I did with these two.

I don’t want to be w/o my friends. I don’t I really don’t.

I’m never doing that again I promise you I’ll never do it again. I’m so fucking sorry I never realized and I know I’m a piece of dirt shit for not realizing sooner, and for scaring you guys to the point you couldn’t communicate with me w/o fear on your end. I should’ve known and I am so so sorry.

Fuck I even talked to my brother and we have the same timezone I shouldn’t have bothered him. Thankfully he let me go quickly. Fuck I hope I didn’t scare him off either…

(4/14/24) 10:44 pm

I’m so tired. Tired of feeling useless and like a failure. If I fail the people I care about then I am NOTHING. I don’t care about myself, I don’t I just want to make people proud of me. I don’t want them thinking I’m a waste, I don’t want them seeing me the same way I do. Please oh fuck… I don’t want to be a disappointment. I really don’t. I don’t want to hurt people, I want to help them. I feel like an utter piece of shit. I can’t ever talk to my friends about my problems again im not doing that to anyone every again. That’s why this will never be posted, I can’t hurt anyone else with my stupid rants and tendencies. I feel like im manipulating and hurting people by being open with them and I don’t want pity I do not want that, I just want them to know I’m not perfect. And even that is scary because if I am not PERFECT in every single aspect then I failed.

I keep apologizing, sounding like a broken record of an ex trying to get their relationship back but I really am sorry. I talked to my step-father about what happened yesterday concerning my friends. He said that I was one of the nicest person he’s ever met, saying how he knows I try to go outta my way to avoid hurting people but what if he was lying? Cause what if I did say something mean?

I call people idiots and jerks a lot, but I never mean it! I normally mean it in a joking matter but that’s not really nice is it? I’m reeling trying to figure this out and I just want to know what I did wrong so I never do it again. I know not to spout my problems off like I did, I know to watch what I say but how am I supposed to watch EVERYTHING I say?

Fuck I don’t care what I have to do. I’ll do anything, anything to make sure I never hurt anyone like that again. Scaring people, hurting them, it’s so fucking scary to me. I don’t want to do that, that’s the person I aim to NOT be. I wanna help, I wanna heal! Not hurt and scare. I sound like a fucking broken record and it’s pathetic.

I can’t ever post this, it will only make things worse and it’ll only make me feel worse. Because if I post this draft, I’ll be forcing everyone who sees this to be my therapist and I swore to never do that again.

Fuck man. I want help. I’m actually asking for help for once, straight up saying it. But I can’t, the one time I want it, the only time I feel I need it, I can’t ask for it because it’s wrong to do so.

(4/18/2024)

I know that none of my “friends” will be texting me in my birthday this year. I’m not expecting them to text me this year, because I’ve lost all my friends. I don’t think anyone will care this time around. At first I was excited! But getting older isn’t fun at all. People start leaving, start to say things they held back, start to tell you things you didn’t notice before. You grow apart and soon you become alone.

I realize that I should be happy my family is texting me, cause sometimes people’s families don’t even text them. But it’s kinda a requirement, that’s your fam, they should know these things. And most of the time, they wish you happy birthday as an after thought. Friends don’t do that (unless they need to be reminded) but still.

I’m gonna miss those two.

(4/19/2024) 11:31 pm

It’s almost my birthday! Hah. What a cruel joke honestly.

I miss those two so much, every time I see the one who messaged me I instantly go quiet, turn my head away until I’ve walked past them. Fuck, I moved around so much during my elementary school years, those two were the longest friends I’ve ever made.

Everyone already has their best friends.

I’ll always be the outsider.

I really am alone aren’t I? That one friend that never gets invited, that hangs back.

The last one they pick to partner up w in classes kinda shit (which, is also true atm).

I’m alone and it sucks. I miss them so much. I don’t care what that one said, I want them back I just want my friends back.

I want my gossip gals back.

My face to face, same time-zone, Irl friends who I can trust my life with.

I’m losing people left and right. I can’t take it. I’m fucking crying less than 30 minutes before my birthday and it’s pathetic.

People are without families, without homes, and I’m crying over this?

Fuckin stupid…

[dionysus-is-my-dude]

Tell me of your love for Dionysus and how it begun (if you are comfortable with sharing) <3

I don't even remember how far back I even learned about Dionysus. It must have been in grade school when we learned about Ancient Greece as part of world history or something. I've been on stage since I was a toddler. My mom had me in ballet, tap, jazz, BOSS, you name it until we finally got me into our local park district's junior theatre. It felt like I was MEANT to be on stage, singing, dancing, performing. I got into Wicca when I was twelve and did a year and a day of training before self-initiating myself at thirteen. I practiced that all the way up until college when I got even more serious about theatre and was taking classes and doing more adult shows. theatre history brought me back to Ancient Greece and really introduced me to Dionysus.

After that, I got into Hellenic Paganism and prayed to Dionysus before shows. I was dealing with a LOT of stress from serious mental illnesses. I'd been diagnosed with depression and anxiety at fourteen, and then, at nineteen, I spent 10 days in a psych ward and got diagnosed with bipolar II, but wasn't told that. So my mental health was plummeting and my only joy in life was theatre. It was like a catch-22, y'know? I didn't have the energy or time outside of being a full-time student in clubs and theatre, plus a part-time job to really get into my practice. It also took SEVERAL years to get on a good medication regiment and getting away from bad therapists and uncaring psychiatrists. I also stopped and started finishing college many times, jumping from job-to-job. I was a MESS.

But, it wasn't until around 2015/2016-ish that I picked back up on Hellenic Polytheism, and I just KNEW from the get-go that Dionysus was my favourite. Theatre? Yes. Madness? Yes. Celebrating life's pleasures? Yes. I was still working on a good medication regiment, struggling to find a therapist, and my bipolar hypomania driving me to make bad choices. To this day, I don't really focus much on rituals, but my love for Dionysus has really just solidified. I now work with my local theatre group -the oldest in my town, whether on-stage or producing. I'd love to work back-stage at some point, as well. I'm now on a much better medication regiment, and I managed to get a virtual psych. I don't have therapy right now, but I'm doing alright right now. I work part-time instead of full-time, prioritize my mental AND physical health, and I practice my craft a bit more, like praying and manifesting. I have e-altars on my Pinterest account for the theoi I work with.

But Dionysus is still my patron god. I think of him everyday. I pray to him before shows still. His push for me to join this theatre group has not only reunited me with an old friend, but has given me a support group I'm so grateful to have. My relationships with my loved ones has improved, and with me working less, I have more time to spend with them. My physical health ain't that great, but my mental health is much better. All of this, I feel like Dionysus has helped provide for me. He has pushed me to reignite my passion for performing, helped me accept and actively work on my mental health, and has made me feel more comfortable in my body and my self-expression. I call him my goofy uncle and "my dude" because, whenever I think of him, normally, I see him dressed in flamboyant leopard prints, smiling wide at me and cheering a glass of wine encouragingly....and then cracks a joke to cheer me up. He makes me feel safe and free and accepted as I am, while still giving me a little nudge to be kinder to myself.

I'm not supposed to drink, so whenever I can, I either get sparkling grape juice or regular grape juice and give him a toast back! Hail Dionysus!

[thevirgodoll]

Hi dear, I hope that you are having a beautiful day.

I really want to get your side on this; so I'm depressed and I'm also an overachiver. I've had depression for about 2 years but it has only crossed the boundaries of my head about three months ago when I got rejected from my dream uni and since then my grades have gone downhill and so have both my mental and physical health. I'm lost (because I missed a goal I had been preparing for for almost a decade lmao) but at the same time the I'm getting so close to hitting rock bottom that I'm relived to have a new and healthier beginning.

For the last few years I've dedicated all my time, efforts and headspace to school. It's my senior year yet I barely have friends, non school related job experience, I even lost the ability to sleep at some point. It's been ages since I've bought clothes, I look extra sloppy all the time and I never go out.

I've learnt a lot through this experience but since it's not going my way, I need to keep moving.

Any advice?

Love you and your blog <333

Navigating Depression while in College

This won't be a Doll Diaries for now but I will create one later.

I appreciate you sharing this with me and want to commend you on still trying and even recognizing that something needs to change. I also want to say that something like this isn't your fault and is a completely normal experience. I think a lot of people overlook the mishaps that can happen in college if depression isn't handled...because we are all so goal oriented, the ugly side of it gets pushed down and creates a loop of inadequacy.

Rejection is a typical part of your 20s...I'm still learning how to deal with it myself. I don't know everything, I'm still in my 20s as well.

I do believe, though, that everything happens for a reason and that something I wanted that I didn't get isn't a rejection but a redirection to something greater.

I completely relate to being in a rut and having health issues impact your college career. I have multiple chronic illnesses. I also have severe depressive episodes and ADHD. I've also had times where I wasn't able to make the best grades in the world.

What got me together was:

going to see a therapist (my school offers it for free)

learning that meds was a good option for me (it isn't for everyone, but it was for me)

getting diagnosed with mental disorders (helped me understand myself better and give validation to what was going on)

developing a consistent routine in all areas (easier said than done)

learning how to love myself as I am while also knowing things must change and taking accountability

having days where I let myself go and relax instead of being productive 24/7

I'm also in my senior year after losing years my experience due to my health. I had to medically withdraw twice so trust me I get it.

While I've lost time due to my health, I realized I can only control right now. My health problems were a sign to slow down.

Why worry on what could've happened? Thinking anything of that nature is a disservice. Introspection is good, but introspection can become rumination after a while. Learn to have a limit.

I do recommend treating yourself and getting out and doing things. Figure out what style of clothes you want to wear, what hair, etc since that's important to you.

Relearn yourself...ask yourself who you are outside of academia because a lot of people lose themselves in it and then have nowhere to turn once it's beginning to end. Find some professor that you can reach out to and confide in to help you, and if not, there's plenty of resources at your school for your program.

Congratulations on reaching your senior year. Focus on yourself, graduation, and becoming the person you want to be. Everything will happen in its due time, and months from now, you will realize that staying in the moment was all you ever needed to enjoy yourself.

Hope this helps ❤️

[shakespearerants]

My therapist being constantly amazed at me bc when we talk about me changing a habit or recognizing a trigger I go out and do what we talked about...like on the one hand yes I am getting a good grade in therapy something that is both normal to want and possible to achieve but also what do you MEAN you're SURPRISED that when we spent an hour discussing how I'm communicating unhealthily with my friends bc I get triggered in conversations sometimes and how I can recognize my triggers and change how I react in detail I GO OUT AND RECOGNIZE MY TRIGGERS AND CHANGE HOW I REACT LIKE WE TALKED ABOUT IN DETAIL. What do other people DO in therapy.

[symptoms-syndrome]

Normally I'd preface this with a lot of "people who experience this are valid" kind of disclaimer but my therapist is urging me to do that sort of thing less and just be upfront. So I'm going to do that.

I'm honestly really, really tired of a lot of the conversations, online and offline (though those lines are more blurred now) surrounding mental health and illness being about how "you can't always tell." Stuff about how you notice it more than others and stuff like that. "You're valid if you're struggling in silence" or "x isn't meant to support or notice people with issues" or whatever whatever, talk about people being passed over and people not noticing or whatever kind of "validity" talk.

I've been, to some degree, objectively noticably fucked up for a very, very long time. I've been going to a therapist since I was six years old. I started Special Education in elementary school with gradually increasing intervention, and was sent to a separate special education school for most of high school. As far as I know I didn't get clear diagnoses (or they weren't shared with me) until middle school (when I got diagnosed with PTSD + depression, with some other diagnoses soon to follow) but even without clinical labels school staff, as well as my classmates, knew there was something wrong with me. A lot of the time other people knew there was something wrong with me before I knew it myself. I've been to a lot of therapists. A lot of partials. A fair amount of inpatient. "At risk" programs for "at risk/troubled" kids. I've been dropped from therapists for being "too much" or "untreatable." One I remember meeting for an intake appointment, and he told me to my face that my trauma was far too much for him.

Rarely ever do I see people talk about that sort of experience. I feel really alienated and sidelined by a lot of bigger conversations because I'm one of "those people." There's an implicit message of "it's okay if you're not one of those crazy retard sped kids" but what if I am. What if I am the kind of kid that even the kids with real bad depression or ADHD or whatever side-eye. My college counselor deleted all the colleges I said I wanted transcripts sent to (I had very good grades, the best I could do with my extremely limited access to mainstream school) in front of me because she said I shouldn't set my hopes high and "people like me" usually go for a trade instead. I got accepted to one of the best when I went around her and submitted the transcripts myself. Even if I wasn't able to go in the end because of homelessness.

There's such a unique trauma to being constantly under the examination of professionals. Like I'm squished under a microscope slide at best and discarded as a "someone else will deal with that, I can't" at worst. And then sort of loosely thrown into the "real world" which is quite the culture shock when you're used to your every move being highly controlled and needing authorization and permission and all that shit to do anything. But there's this weird dichotomy of being watched and controlled at every moment while also having no one give a shit about you. I'm sick of hearing only shit about how no one can tell you're mentally ill and how that's sooo hard and they wish they were more visible. No you don't. If you knew you would know it fucking sucks. And everyone hates you for being so visibly fucked because you're a bad mark on their program or whatever so they just send you off to someone else or just give up on you altogether. And now I gotta pick up all the pieces by myself and figure out how much of what I'm fucked up with is what I was told and how much is real. The people in charge of making me better just fucked me up.

[gayestpiano]

thoughts on self improvement

a couple of weeks ago, my friend got a message from a guy who had ghosted her a full year ago. he apologized and said that he had needed time to work on himself. they started hanging out again and the crazy thing is she told me that he did genuinely seem better: he was more confident, more self-assured, had gotten into his hobbies, etc.

this was kind of an insane thing to hear because he had done what i’ve been wanting to do for years: actually bettered himself. this sent me on a string of revelations about myself and i think i’m on a serious road to self-improvement like he was.

i sussed these things out in therapy and here’s what i realized: everything i do is a performance. i most obviously perform when i post [redacted], but i also performed on my normal twitter account, trying to be cool and cultured and posting things i thought my followers would like. i perform when i’m at the grocery store. i perform when i go to bars (however rarely that might be). i perform when i’m hanging out with friends. i’m the funny one so i was unconsciously always thinking of something funny to say to make people laugh but also to get them to validate me. i even perform in therapy.

my therapist asked me who the performance is for and the answer is sort of complicated: it’s for both others and for myself. i want others to perceive me in a certain way so i perform that for them. but when they laugh at my jokes or say nice things to me, that validates me in return so ultimately it comes back to me.

the thing is, though, that it’s sort of an empty validation. it’s not really a validation of me, it’s a validation of the performance. instead of being a person, i was craving applause after a play. i didn’t want people to like me, i wanted them to like the performance i was putting on. (i deactivated my twitter that night because not only was it a cesspool but i didn’t even enjoy what i was supposed to be enjoying.)

i’ve always tried to be an ideal version of myself to please whoever happens to be in my life. dressing how my friends told me was acceptable, tailoring my interests to match those of my peers, trying to get good grades to make my parents proud of me (notice how these aren’t necessarily bad things to want. this makes it harder to realize that i’m acting in others’ interests). i’ve noticed that i’ve basically never done anything purely for myself. it’s always in service of others or influenced by others. i’ve lost sight of who i actually am.

this is the scary part. i don’t really know who i am. i have to strip everything away and build myself from the ground up without the pressures of other people.

i’ve had some pretty bad body dysmorphia in my life and i’ve never really been happy with my body. i’ve wanted to be slim and toned for years. but now i’m starting to think about why i want that. it’s what i find attractive but how much of that is influenced by society and (more recently) gay culture?

this also ties in to my issues with executive dysfunction and lack of motivation. when there’s nobody around me to tell me what to do or, importantly, expect me to do things, i lose all motivation and interest.

i’m always afraid of giving myself credit for things because i don’t want people to think i’m conceited. i recently wrote down things i like about myself and it was genuinely hard to acknowledge my strengths as a person without a hint of irony.

this is why genuine self-improvement is so difficult. i’ve always heard people “working on themselves” without ever really acknowledging what that means. it’s difficult to consider what i thought were innate thought patterns and figure out if i’ve been influenced to think that way. to figure out what i actually want and then take steps to achieve that. to rethink what makes me “me.”

my therapist and i talked about re-framing my life to put me at the center rather than other people. doing things because i want to and not because i think others want me to. finally stopping the performance. this will be hard work but i’m up for the challenge.

[mangodestroyer]

Sorry, this got long and rambly. I've been thinking about these things lately.

Goodness! That's another part of it too! Getting placed with the kids who didn't gaf/being barred from SO MANY OPPORTUNITIES to get into the things you might have ACTUALLY cared about more!

Like... even when I DID start taking honors/AP classes in hs... I was still straight-up told I wasn't allowed to do certain things! I still had an academic advisor tell me I wasn't fit for college! And I'm still often dismissed by people who know nothing about me... until they become aware of what I'm doing with my life/realize I'm autistic. Now ig it's okay for me to be autistic because... I can do math? Play an instrument? Have Discworld, LOTR, Dune, some classics, physics textbooks, etc on my bookshelf? Or just because I have odd, yet helpful skills I can provide in the workforce (seriously, my uncanny ability to clean and organize a store in artistic ways is probably some weird autism thing because I've only known of other people on the spectrum who do things like that).

Or maybe some of it is awareness/changing attitudes about mental disabilities. IDK! It sometimes fucks with me that I grew up being treated like such a fuck up, and now I have people doting on my autism like it's some cute and strange quality. Like... would these people actually want to live with me/witness one of my meltdowns? I literally need to be reminded to do certain things and struggle to take care of myself. And I have the emotional regulation of a CHILD. I can't be upset in a normal way... I have whole episodes where I cry for HOURS and act like my life is ruined! And talking and other normal ass things were never even all that natural for me! I mean... I used to be non-verbal/speak in two-word sentences OCCASIONALLY. Trust me... my irl speech sometimes gets SOOOO bad... I'm also in my mid-20s and never learned how to drive! I'm already putting so much energy into other things and honestly... the idea of getting behind the wheel makes me want to cry... the idea of spending HOURS learning how to do something that could easily get myself or others killed/maimed if something goes wrong is too much! Keeping track of what's going on all around me on the road and remembering traffic laws on the spot is... UUUGGGHHH!

Tbh, I sometimes feel like a different species because of all this... just learning how to co-exist with humans the best I can. When it isn't a hurtful existence... it's a strange one. I still feel like I'm from a different world.

But, anyway, I'm so sorry you had to deal with this too! It sucks finding out that certain things just aren't for you because of your disability! After years of work and changing my major a few times, I too have come to find that certain careers and fields of study may not be possible for me! But I also wouldn't dismiss academia entirely! I've known other neurodivergent people with learning disabilities who were also late bloomers like me! One of my childhood friends couldn't solve an algebra problem to save her life! Then she took remedial math in college and got As! Seriously, two years of that at twice the pace of hs level math! Grade school environments aren't exactly inspiring, but some college professors can be awesome!

I mean... I know I just typed up a lot of doom and gloom in the prior post... because having a disability is still a challenging and confusing experience! It took me a long time to realize that I was just going to have to stop fighting with how I naturally am and work to find a lifestyle that would better suit me instead. I've done so much research on niches in the working world that might work for me personally. Along with living situations that might also work better for me. I think this is just something we need to do as ND individuals. Seriously do some soul searching and figure out what might best work for you! I can promise you that grade school, and whatever you were taught by speech or behavioral therapists (if you also had to go to those) aren't always accurate about what the real world is like. If you're from the U.S. like I am... well, we aren't exactly praised for our school system anyway! In all fairness, I think many kids are hurt by it.

Kinda fucked up that we all coo and sympathize with "former gifted kids" but never talk about the students who had to stay late after school or over the summer for remedial classes/clubs, who struggled to get above a C, who were given up on or punished. Who tried so hard to understand or just couldn't. Who were grouped with the "stupid kids" (a classmate called us that in remedial math btw)

Autistic kids and adhders who can't relate to their gifted peers and are constantly alienated by them. Kids who struggled in school due to dealing with a chronic or mental illness or physical/learning/developmental disability. Those of us who have had to drop out of highschool or college. Kids who worked so hard and wanted to be seen as smart, but never were. Who watched as their peers seem to fly by them in school, while they were left behind. Who were bullied and put down by those in the gifted and honors classes. Whose confidence was absolutely destroyed by education.

I love you all and I'm so sorry the school system failed you. I'm sorry you weren't properly accommodated and given the education you deserved. I'm sorry people put you down for something that they never had to fight for.

[brokendarkfairyempressforever]

Tests scores and grades define me and I want to cry

Do you know how messed up this is

I had a teacher who didn't prepare us well

I didn't know how to study for it

So much home life crap

So much mental health illnesses that I can't get help

One god awful morning of AP bio test day

And I didn't get a good score on it

I had to deal with so much life stuff that no one else in a million years would ever live through and I had so much trouble staying alive let alone passing my classes

B+ at the end of the year it's fine

But it means nothing

Cause it doesn't count

I have to take the test again or take the course in college

Well guess what?

I was so fucking excited for AP bio I love bio I couldn't wait to learn

And I thought I was gonna have a therapist I thought I'm finally gonna get help it's gonna be okay, hard, but okay

BUT GUESS WHAT

I'M NOT PRIORITY

WHO FUCKING CARES THAT MY MENTAL HEALTH IS IN SHAMBLES

IM DYING EVERYDAY

YET NO ONE GETS IT

LIVE IN MY HEAD ONE DAY AND YOU WOULDN'T SURVIVE

YET I CAN'T SHOW MY TRUE WORTH SO EVERYONE THINKS I'M DUMB WHO WHO CAN'T DO ANY OF THE WORK EVEN THOUGH I'M TRYING BUT I CAN'T I CAN DO IT BUT SOMETHING IS HOLDING ME BACK AND THE ONLY PEOPLE WHO UNDERSTOOD WAS MY LATIN AND HISTORY TEACHER WHO HELPED ME AND GAVE ME ENCOURAGEMENT AND I WAS ABLE TO SHOW MY TRUE WORTH. MY CHEM TEACHER HELPED ME IN OTHER WAYS THAT I'M STILL GOOD ENOUGH HE HELPED ME LEARN THE MEANING OF FUN, HE HELPED ME BE A KID AGAIN. AND I WISHED I JUST ASKED HIM FOR HELP INSTEAD OF BEING SCARED OF EVERYTHING

IF I WAS FUCKING NORMAL I COULD OF GOTTEN GRADES I DESERVED. THAT I'M GOOD ENOUGH

WHY CAN'T I JUST SHOVE IT AWAY LIKE I USE TO. NOTHING HAPPENED TO ME I'M FINE NOTHING HAPPENED SO I SHOULD BE NORMAL I CAN DEAL WITH THAT CRAP WHEN I'M 40

NOTHING HAPPENED TO ME ANYWAY THEY HAD IT WORSE

WHY AM SO SAD, SCARED, ANGRY, ANXIOUS, EXHAUSTED, BURNED OUT NUMB, NOT KNOWING HOW TO INTERACT WITH ANYONE, NOT KNOWING HOW TO CONTROL MY THOUGHTS, NOT KNOWING HOW TO CONTROL MY FACE RIGHT, NOT KNOW HOW TO CONTROL MY EMOTIONS, I CAN'T DO ANYTHING RIGHT I'M SO DUMB AND USELESS AND WORTHLESS I CAN'T DO ANYTHING RIGHT EVERY DAM DAY I HATE MYSELF I HATE MYSELF

I HATE IT HERE I HATE IT HERE I HATE IT HERE

EVERYONE GETS MAD AT ME

EVERYONE COMPLAINS TO ME

EVERYONE VENTS TO ME

EVERYONE GETS SAD AT ME

I STRESS EVERYONE OUT

I TAKE EVERYONE'S STRESS

AND I CAN'T DO ANYTHING

AND EVERYONE SUFFERS

IM AN IDIOT

I'M WORTHLESS

I'M USELESS

I HATE MYSELF

I HATE IT HERE

[lostinheavensworld]

i’m kinda worried that i spend 90% of my waking life not grounded in reality. like i’m either imagining scenarios, constantly, for most of my day, even around other people i’m imagining myself surrounded by DIFFERENT people or living a different life. that or i’m absorbed in shows/games/reading. i’m never me. thats too fucking lonely. but i’m a little worried that this has been the way i’ve always been? like … am i lacking some sort of development by my absolute inability to accept loneliness? and if i’m honest, when i’m having breakdowns, constantly living in a fantasy world only makes my breakdowns worse, because i cant even pretend to not be alone then. i cant even imagine people coming to comfort me. it makes me feel so incredibly alone that i spiral even further. so really, i alresdy know its not entirely healthy of a hobby to entertain … but i cant stop now? i mean… i’ve literally been imagining fictional characters being with me throughout my daily life for as long as i can remember. i mean i have VIVID memories of being in my seventh grade history classroom and having my then comfort imaginary characters sitting in the empty chairs around me. like it has happened for SO LONG and now that my depression has gotten so incredibly bad and now that i’m back home from college for the summer … it is legitimately all i do. all i do is imagine myself with other people being someone else. i literally struggle to grasp my actual reality and know who i really am and how i really feel, because i have gotten so incredibly good at convincing myself theres other people with me and i feel something else and i am someone else. and its not in a schizophrenic way … like i know theyre not real and i dont hear voices or see people really … its just. theyre there. in my mind theres a person standing over there. and i’ll talk to them. i’ll laugh at inside jokes. i’ll interact like its a real person that i have history with and i dont think that its what i should do? but im also so scared to tell anyone ? because i feel like i sound fucking crazy. and i’ve already been to a mental hospital once in the past six months and i’d rather not go back. no matter who the therapist, psychiatrist, or even fucking friend is, i do not mention that i’m constantly living between two realities. but im really starting to consider it might be harmful to me long term, if it isnt already harmful. i know daydreaming is normal but i mean .. it is all of the fucking time. for years and years ive existed in perpetual daydreams, various realities that i construct that comfort me and protect me from the reality of the life i’m living. and its not like my life is even so fucking terrible. but when im in the second reality i can pull myself out of my depression. i can pretend theres another person there, pushing me to get up or take my meds or eat or something. and i get it done. and it helps. and i feel like i sound insane but im just. im just worried. and no one’s gonna read this and im screaming into the void but fuck. am i crazy? do i need to talk to someone about this? did any of this even make any sense??

[hazedxhealing]

A life update cause I feel it's needed

Quite a lot has happened since my last life rant, and I mean A LOT. And most of it is why I'm not as active on here as I would like to be, rather active in short bursts.

I am going to give a TW, for symptom mentions, trauma mentions, medication, weed, etc etc.

If you aren't aware of who my ex-husband is, take the time to familiarize yourself before continuing. He will be mentioned, a bit.

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There are a few different subjects I'd like to talk about. None of which matter greatly to any of you, but to to me.

Medication managment;

I have yet to talk to my therapist about this, as I fear some form of backlash, but I have gone medication free. I know meds are helpful for those with bipolar disorder, ptsd, etc, but I didn't like how I felt.

It was a very difficult decision to make, and came with a lot of researching, weighing the pros and cons, taking self inventory. It was not a decision I made immediately, it was something I thought about for multiple months beforehand. I then slowly over the course of a few more months weaned myself off of my meds, little by little.

I hadn't been back on them for long, but it was the same meds and dose I was on in NY, that I wasn't allowed to go get refilled for the longest time, so it wasn't too difficult. I hadn't regained dependency yet.

Now, don't get me wrong; me being med free doesn't mean they didn't work. My meds worked beautifully, amazing even. I just didn't like feeling like a mindless zombie. Not being able to spend time with my loved ones wasn't a price I was willing to pay. That being said, just in case, I still have multiple full doses on standby, and continue to get my meds filled, just to be safe, in case I ever would need to (or I decide to) go back on them.

I am herbally medicated, though. As needed. (yes, that means weed, and only medical grade weed).

2. Symptom changes;

The main things that have changed symptom wise is DID related; most, if not all of my brainmates are currently dormant (or more like on standby, if I'm being honest).

For those who will say "all your alters can't just go dormant, they can't just go away!!!!", I know. They haven't left, they haven't went anywhere, they are still here. They just aren't needed - currently.

They are in a sort of 'standby' mode, dormant but watching, if you will. This is a normal - and good - part of recovery. It is a step closer to knowing the difference between healthy situations and traumatic once, and a big step closer top functional multiplicity, which is my goal.

Lilith checks in every now and then, takes inventory, but other than that, I have no need for them, or at the very least not as big of a need for them. I am in a big - and important - part of my recovery, where I am progressing, and am happy, and in healthy relationships.

3. Relationship changes;

As y'all know (if not please review the link above), I left my ex-husband in June of 2022. The anniversary is actually gonna be coming up soon.

After having the whore phase I never got to have due to being abducted at 18, I entered and exited a few failed relationships.

They failed due to different love styles, and repeating patterns, to spare the boring details.

I have since fallen in love with and am dating my best friend, who is my absolute world. I love them so much. They treat me amazing, and their behavior is consistent, and hnnnng.

So, uhhh, yeah!!

[death-rebirth-senshi]

I do sometimes feel like "Something normal to want and possible to achieve" is overly removed from its context sometimes.

It is normal to want to do well in social interactions, for example; and though I hesitate to say it, being a little better at social interactions is possible to achieve. Social skills are skills.

So many deviations don't capture how demented it is to go to therapy for your mental health and treat your therapist/doctor like an authority figure you have to please. That making them laugh means you're doing well! Your therapist likes you! You're going to get a good grade in a process that's supposed to be all about you overcoming mental illness and life hurdles but you've turned it into "I show my therapist how cool and normal I am for a significant amount of money and they're impressed with me" hour.

[light-gayber]

I need to vent. I'm sorry for the long post, you don't need to read it.

TRIGGER WARNING: Therapy, struggling with poverty, bullying, homophobia, transphobia, misgendering, deadnaming, abandonment, isolation, attempting to self-unalive

It feels so weird when I'm at therapy, and I'm discussing an issue I've been having, and then my therapist asks stuff like "Why do you think that is?" Or "What do you do to help?", And then she smiles and nods when I say why I think that is, or what I do to help, because apparently, knowing what the hell is wrong with my brain, and acting to try fixing it, is normal, but not to the degree I do-

She says that a lot of my coping mechanisms and thought processes relating to struggling with something are already really smart and like I do therapy on myself.

I literally had to learn how to do it because I didn't have a good therapist for so long that I accidentally taught myself.

My Mom did teach me a few things, like that I should not hoard stuff just because I think it could be useful later, because I remember growing up when we didn't know if we could afford buying new things when needed.

I sometimes cry when I waste food, because I remember growing up, and Mom and Dad telling me not to waste food because that's what we have. The other day, I almost cried when my poptart fell on the floor because I didn't wanna eat anymore, but it was already opened, and whole. My Dad ended up eating it, but I felt even more guilty then because he has diabetes.

I feel ashamed of myself for wanting things. I should not be ashamed of myself for that. We can afford things that aren't necessary now! I have this innate urge to apologize to my Mom and Dad whenever we "splurge" a little bit on something at the store, like wanting sardines, or a donut, or an energy drink, or something else small like that. Or anything else for that matter.

I'm glad my sister doesn't have as many problems, but I still get anxious whenever she asks for things, because we started being able to afford more stuff when she wasn't even in 2nd grade, so she feels more comfortable asking for things. I've always been an anxious person, especially when it comes to finances. I habitually round things up to the next dollar when buying stuff, even when it's 5 cents over a dollar. It feels right. It has saved me some money, but I'm still a minor, who can fall back on my Mom and Dad when I need stuff.

My social anxiety sucks. I want it to stop. I get that it's a "survival mechanism", but it's doing more harm than good. I wish I didn't feel anxious about just going up to people and asking questions. I don't blame my parents for how awkward I am, though. They knew I had really bad anxiety in general, and that being with people for an extended period of time every day would harm me.

But if they had just put me in public school a little earlier, maybe it wouldn't have been so bad. Maybe I wouldn't have tried to drown myself in an empty cat litter bucket (The one the clean litter comes in) when I was 10. Maybe my brother leaving wouldn't have hurt me so badly. Maybe I would know how to function around people, and when it's okay to call them out on bullshit.

I don't know why, but when people use she/her pronouns for me, or I hear my deadname, it physically hurts. I have had panic attacks and flashbacks at home from a little knitted pillow with my deadname on it. I wish I never went to that school. There are things now that I can't handle without flashbacks. I wish I never met my ex. I wish I never said yes to his dumb little confession when we hadn't even met. I would be way more comfortable now. I wouldn't have to feel like I have to be careful when walking to the busstop for school. I would be able to do karate with my sister. I wouldn't have a fear reaction to the word "Trinity".

[mangodestroyer]

Yeah, agreed. You see, when something or someone puts such restrictions on what you can communicate about and HOW you are able to communicate, for your whole existence... you're not just going to know how to communicate like a normal person the moment those problems "go away." Yeah, it's true. The problem isn't gone for good. And once it is, it's probably going to take many years before they learn to start being more functional.

And yeah, communication issues = "idiot" has always left a sour taste in my mouth. As someone who grew up with speech problems and a communication disorder, I pretty much grew up being made to feel lesser over these issues. Constantly being picked on and told I was stupid, by family and peers at school. Being told to stop mispronouncing words because, "Everyone will make fun of you and no one will take you seriously." Speech therapist who probably overstepped her authority and started policing my behaviors and personality. Teachers assuming bad things about me because I didn't act "normal" and sucked at following directions (good chance I also have executive functioning issues as well). For whatever reason, people also kind of just forgot that I had a... mental disability and also thought that my young child self was just doing this crap to be stubborn and malicious?

And ofc, some people act like this isn't a big deal and isn't traumatizing and I should be over it... even though it was literally the reason I grew up feeling like an outcast. Wondering if I was just cursed or something. And also feeling like the world was just a cold and hostile place. Yeah, at this point, I am mostly "over it", but something like that doesn't go away. Especially when these issues have led to me running into other issues into my adulthood (weak boundaries and low self-esteem leading me to accept shitty treatment from others). I've had to do so much work recovering from the damage, addressing these past traumas, unlearning some horrible habits and unhealthy thought patterns, and accepting difficult truths about the world.

Also, I'm not an "idiot." I'm a math major who's well into their degree. I pass most of my classes with As and Bs. Even some of the courses people find difficult. I took two college level English courses in hs and got As in them, got good grades in my other advanced classes in hs as well, and did well on the standardized tests. Now I'm trying to learn German, despite my natural difficulties with language. And I believe I am fully capable of doing so.

But, you know, bad communication and poor language skills just seem to immediately give people the idea that you're an "idiot." And people will come to that conclusion based on a single moment.

And people who do this don't exactly strike me as "intelligent." Like, really? You're just going to make a harsh judgement about someone based on a single moment? When you literally know NOTHING about them or what may be going on in their mind?

And I've given up trying to explain that perspective to them. If they can't get the hint that you're not impressed, they won't get it at all. They'll either just stare at you blankly or go harder on it because they now know that this is something that upsets you. And they'll try to manipulate the situation so you're the one who just looks emotional and foolish.

I'm not even sure if it's a lack of perspective that inspires people to do this, or just them being malicious and looking for a "weakness." I think it's the second one most of the time. I think a scary amount of people just lack empathy and like putting others down. And mental disabilities are still fair game. Society, for the most part, still doesn't care. It's still very acceptable to go after those who are neurodivergent. Yes, I've even had people who acted like such big "supporters" of neurodiversity end up stabbing me in the back. Yes, people who even said they've looked into it quite a bit, and talk like they have. I fell for it thinking they were actually good people. You'd almost think they learned about these mental conditions and looked into them more when they realized how vulnerable those of us with said conditions are. After all, someone who always struggles with social cues, who was also taught not to trust their own intuition, and who will never be very popular with the general public must be a gold mine of a target to these vultures.

Sorry for the long rant. Ableism sucks and I'm very jaded at this point. Like I said, I've been working on recovering from this. I get that "ineffable idiot" is probably a case where the people saying it don't have ill-intent. I think it was just meant to be some light-hearted teasing. I mean, I'll admit. Sometimes, I like to tease them a little too. When they're being goofy. I just don't like when it gets implied that "poor communication" warrants that title. Like, it almost seems to be an obsession for some people to push the whole "idiot" thing hard on them just because of that. I've seen it happen with other characters too. The fact that "the dumb character" is even a trope is just... not my thing. And yes, I've also known people who tend to do this with characters who... also need their to be a "dumb" friend in their group irl. Or they're just quick to call others "idiots" over simple mistakes (but never themselves). One I've met who also did this annoying, fake "I'm such a goofy ditz!" thing as well. I guess they think it's cute or something. They're also one of the people I mentioned before who pretended to be supportive of neurodiversity, but acted disgusted by me over it in covert ways.

And, little side rant, it's also obvious to me when writers/animators try so hard to emphasis a single personality trait with a character, such as "stupidity." So the character is just a big dum dum, ig... Just like when a character is ridiculously bashful. For no reason. They just are. That's their natural born personality. That's another thing I've noticed with people irl too. If you're just someone who doesn't care to talk much, or you're me and got cursed with a naturally soft voice, people think you're just overly bashful or something. So, as a not-socially-anxious introvert, it makes me think the animators don't actually know how quiet people work irl. Not everyone feels the need to be loud and heard. Not everyone has the social battery or energy for 24/7 social engagement. Doesn't mean we're weak-willed and afraid of our own shadows? Who enjoys these kinds of characterizations anyway? They're very much on the nose.

In conclusion: idiot is not a personality you can just assign to people. "Idiot" is not a personality period. That is a single trait. People have depth. Why does your character have to just be "dumb?"

This isn't the worst take, but I'm getting tired of people saying Aziraphale and Crowley just need to communicate and calling them "ineffable idiots".

First, because it's not their fault they can't communicate. As in literally *can't*. As in, if they ever said what they were actually thinking, they would be destroyed for it. That's not their fault.

And second, because the true problem is their horrendous circumstances and their evil enemies, not their communication. There is no good way the Final Fifteen could have happened. There were no good options. Even if they had communicated, they would never have been allowed to end up happy together and go off into the sunset.

And finally because "idiot" is an ableist term. But unfortunately l do not have the spoons to take that on lol.