#after years of therapy working medication and talks with me she’s doing much better than she was.

[peachpitlover]

Vulnerable

In which Y/n is JJ’s anxious girl but he’ll always protect her.

Pairing: JJ Maybankx Reader

Word Count: 1.4k

Warnings: Swearing (just a little), talk of anxiety and ocd, mentions of medication, mentions of physical abuse (not reader or jj), and smut

My Masterlists

~~~

JJ learned early on in their friendship that Y/n was much more reserved than the rest of the group. Don’t get him wrong, she was fun and outgoing and silly, but the smallest thing would have her shrinking into herself. It was only when they started dating that she opened up to him. She explained that she was diagnosed with severe anxiety when she was twelve, as well as OCD. Her mom tried every possible remedy in the book; therapy, OCD clinics, meditation, and natural remedies but nothing worked. She got put onto medication after a year of no relief and the dose was slowly rising until about a year ago. The medication did a great deal to help her, but her thoughts were still often clouded with anxiety. While the severity of Y/n’s OCD died down a lot, she still found herself needing to check her pockets and bag multiple times before leaving the house, and opening and closing the fridge door more times than she can count “because it didn’t sound right.” The Pogues knew better than to disturb her antics and waited patiently for her to sigh in relief and look up with a smile.

Once Kiara had tried to interrupt Y/n’s trance of opening and closing the front door of the Chateau, but it only ended in Y/n cutting into the palms of her hands with her nails as she tried to control herself and tears from the anxiety she felt because once again “it didn’t feel right.” JJ had also once tried to stop her from the never ending cycle of Y/n tapping each side of her arm to make it “feel even.” Then, she had snapped at JJ and locked him out of his own room. She’s well aware that this only exists in her head, but it doesn’t do much to make the feeling any less real.

JJ is against the headboard of her bed with Y/n on his lap. His hands roaming from her shoulders to her hips and back as he kissed her. With both hands in his hair, Y/n panted and squirmed in his arms while her hips gently ground into his.

“You want to do something tonight, angel? Don’t have to, I just think you’re a little needy,” he smiled as he broke away from her swollen lips.

“Um,” she mumbled. “maybe. I don’t know, like what?”

“Anything you want, maybe just putting my hand inside your shorts and rubbing you? Hm, how’s that sound?”

“I don’t know J,” she whined as she picked at her nails.

JJ only frowned and took her hands in his.

“Don’t have to do anything you don’t want, ok baby? Just tell me you don’t like it and we’ll stop,” he’s heard the story of her friend in high school who beat up his girlfriend. He was the last person you would expect to do something like that, and the thought constantly haunted her mind when surrounded by men. She trusted JJ with her whole heart, but her brain told her that she could never know for sure.

“Like, how?”

“How I would rub you?” He clarified.

“Mhm,” she whispered.

He smiled at her shyness: “Just over your panties sweet girl, unless you want more. Just play with your little clit and make you feel good,” he spoke as he held eye contact with her.

“Yeah,” she murmured as her eyes dropped to their intertwined hands.

“Yeah? You want that?”

She nodded with a shy smile before hiding in his neck and he tsked at her.

“Gotta use your words. I’m not gonna do anything until you say what you want.”

“I want that, JJ.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah, yes please,” she whined.

“That’s my girl, kiss me baby. I’ll do the rest,” he smiled as she surged forward and her hands went straight to his hair.

JJ continued to kiss her and rub her back as his right hand crept lower and lower until it was resting over her hip, massaging at the skin and pulling at the band of her sleep shorts.

“Can I, baby?” He spoke against her.

“Yes,” she whined and connected their lips again.

As his hand dipped into her shorts the slightest bit, her stomach tensed involuntarily.

“It’s ok,” she whispered almost immediately.

He continued until his fingers were resting just above her clit and his wrist submerged fully into her shorts.

“Just focus on kissing me, baby,” he whispered into her mouth and moved his left hand to her lower back.

Once his fingers rested on her clit, she jumped and gasped, he felt her lashes flutter against his skin as her eyes shot open.

“It’s ok, angel. I’ve got you, I’d never hurt you, my baby. You’re ok,” he whispered.

“It’s just…” she cut herself off as she pulled her head back.

“I know, you’re ok. You’re my sweet girl, I’d never hurt you. Not ever, if you want to stop we can.”

“I know that, it’s just new, is all.”

“I know, and you’re doing so good for me, do you wanna keep going?”

“Yes please.”

He smiled against her lips and kissed the corner of her mouth. Moving his lips to her cheeks and jaw, and eventually her neck. JJ pressed his fingers into her gently and he felt her thighs tense; “I’m ok,” she whispered.

“You’re ok,” he confirmed in between kissing. He began to circle his fore and middle fingers against her as gently as possible.

“Oh,” she gasped.

“Oh?” JJ smiled into her neck.

“I like that.”

“Yeah?”

“Mhm, feels really nice,” she breathed out an almost moan as he pushed his fingers against her mound with a little more pressure.

“Must have been aching, huh sweet girl? I can feel how warm you are.”

“Needed it,” she whined.

“Yeah? You needed me to touch you?”

“Mhm- JJ!” She sucked in some air as he let his hands dip until his fingers rested over her slit, still over her panties. He pushed slightly, not enough to push his fingers in, but enough to satiate that ache and draw out a loud moan.

“I know, I’ve got you,” he whispered before his lips found hers once again and his left hand on her back pulled her impossibly closer.

“I liked the other thing, can you do that again?”

“You liked when I rubbed your clit?”

“Mhm,” she moaned and bucked her hips when his fingers rested on her covered clit.

“Words, baby. Or I’ll stop,” he reminded gently.

“Yes, J! Please,” JJ couldn’t get enough of the sweet moans and whimpers that came from her, they made his stomach flip as an ache settled between his legs.

“More please,” she whimpered and ground her hips down into his hand.

“Can I touch you under your panties? Is that what you want?” Y/n couldn’t help the way her stomach fluttered when he called them panties.

“Yes please, I really want that,” she whispered and smiled shyly.

“Ok sweet girl,” he smiled and slid his hand into her panties. “God, you’re so fucking wet, baby.”

“Oh fuck!” She cried and closed her hand around his hair and tugged.

“Feels good?” He teased her.

“S-so good. Please, please,” she didn’t know what she was asking for, her mind too muddled with pleasure to think of anything else.

“Gonna cum for me?”

“Yes, yes J, please.”

“Cum for me, angel, I’ve got you.”

Her moans became louder and more frantic as her head fell back and her thighs began to shake.

“Oh my god!” Y/n came with one final mewl.

“Good girl, so good for me.”

“Thank you JJ,” she smiled as she nuzzled her head into his neck.

“Don’t have to thank me. I hate to make you get up but I have to go to the bathroom.”

“No, just a few minutes, please?” She pouted and whined.

“I gotta go take care of myself then I’m all yours.”

She stared at him for a moment before her eyes widened in understanding; “Oh, sorry.”

“Don’t be sorry, I’ll be quick I promise,” he kissed her one last time before standing up.

“JJ?” She called just before he entered the bathroom.

“Yeah, baby?”

“I love you, thank you,” she smiled.

“I love you more than you know, angel girl.”

[krash-and-co]

so i just woke up from anesthesia afew hours ago but

yeag i agee wirh you one hundred percent you are so right ive said it before i will say it again amd again UYOURE RIGHR HE IS YEAH i’m going to sleep now btw

LISTEN, Kaz Brekker, W.W. Hale V and Antony Lockwood are three points on the same triangle. Don’t ask me how i know this but they are.

[the-guilty-writer]

Headcanons for Hotchner!daughter Service Dog

No one asked for it but here we are.

Inspired by the headcanons done by @ssa-thotchnerr on hotchner!reader emotional support dog

As someone who is a service dog handler, this topic is near and dear to my heart, especially service dogs who do psychiatric work. It's also important to me to address the differences between an ESA (emotional support animal) and PSD (psychiatric service dog) as they are two seprate things.

If you have questions about ESAs or Service Dogs send me an ask or a message! It's something I love to talk about and educate on!

Here we go:

CW: Foyet, Haley's death, counseling, medication, PTSD, PTSD symptoms, meanings to names

The whole thing with Foyet was traumatic. Being pulled away from your dad, being in witness protection, being told your dad was dead only to find out that he wasn't, your mom being killed- it was all too much.

Hotch was very proactive about getting you and Jack into counseling. Jack recovered from the events far faster and easier than you did.

After evaluation from a psychologist, they concluded you had severe PTSD.

You were talking to a therapist multiple times a week, taking medication, being open with your dad, even peer support groups, but after a year you still struggled immensely.

Panic attacks, nightmares, hypervigilance, depressive episodes, and avoidance still ruled your life.

Your medical team brought forward the idea of a service dog as an addition to the rest of your treatment.

You and your dad looked into it and decided it would be a good idea.

Until you looked at the price of training or getting a program dog and it was going to be upwards of $15,000 (really closer to $25,000) or at least two years on a non-profit waitlist. Some options were both.

Thank god for the "anonymous donation" from Uncle Dave.

You and your dad met with the program. They had you meet a few different dogs that were ready for task training, but ultimately you were matched with a solid black female german shepherd.

"She's from our outer space themed litter. Her name is Comet, after Halley's Comet."

That had you and your dad in tears.

It would still be months before she would complete her task training, but you got to see her when you went to do handler training.

She finally finished her training with the program and got to come home to complete it with you!

At first, having Comet almost made things worse.

People would point and stare, little kids would scream, rude people saying things like "you don't look disabled", "I thought only veterans could have PTSD", access issues, even some of your friends who didn't want to bring you along on activities anymore since you'd have Comet with you.

But it forced you to be a bit brave and learn to stand up for yourself and her.

And her tasks made your life so much better and gave you so much more independence.

Comet would "search" the apartment for strangers before you entered, so you could come home alone without Hotch or Jessica having to be there.

If you were home alone, she would bark when someone came into the apartment and go check to see who it was. If it was someone she knew, she would stop barking and come back to you, but if it was a stranger she would continue barking so you could call your dad and ask who was supposed to be coming to the apartment.

When you had nightmares, she would wake you up before they got really bad. This improved the sleep quality of everyone in your family.

Comet would alert you before you had a panic attack so she could perform deep pressure therapy and you could use your coping skills to try to make it less intense.

If your panic attack did get intense, she would do a "take down" to put as much pressure on your body as possible and gently lick you until you calmed down.

In the after-fatuige of an attack she would take you to a quiet place to recover and continue to provide pressure therapy.

If it happened when your dad was home she would get him to help you through it.

She would annoy you at certain times of the day to remind you to take your medications, sometimes even fetching the bottles for you.

When you would cry alone she would just starting bringing you anything she could find - water bottles, papers, pillows, dirty laundry (usually bras because it made you laugh) - so you didn't have to be alone with your feelings.

She would stand behind you and alert to people approaching so you didn't get startled.

Sometimes would provide "checks" around corners if you were having a really bad day with hypervigilance.

Having Comet opened up an entire new world for you, making you feel safe without having to have your dad or your aunt with you.

She wasn't a replacement for your therapy or medication, and the public could still be extremely rude. Sometimes you did leave her at home if you were going somewhere that it would be hard to accommodate her and you had your dad to help you incase anything happened.

But she gave you independence that you didn't have before and made your life so much better.

[veronicaphoenix]

Her attention had shifted from the movie to my neck, where she was staring intently at a spot I couldn’t see. Before I could ask, her index finger found my skin and traced a tiny tattoo that was there. “Lia,” she said, reading the tattoo I had gotten years ago. “My favorite girl,” I replied, wondering immediately where those words had come from because I couldn’t remember intending to say them.

Chapter tags & trigger warnings: best friends to lovers, ptsd, therapy, Lia is on medication, a lot of angst but a lot of fluff, too. Noah and Lia are on dangerous grounds. Noah can't help but being a flirt. Lia is dealing with too many things and is very confused and feeling like shit. A lot of alcohol consumption that will lead to inevitable consequences. | Word count: 3.1k | Cross posted on AO3 | Series masterpost. ✧.*

General trigger warnings: This work addresses and depicts issues related to addiction and violence, contains explicit sexual content, and explores themes of childhood trauma. Reader discretion is advised.

I had been in the studio for about an hour and a half, hashing out details of our upcoming tour and listening to Matt’s heated discussions over the phone.

The first hour was all about work, but then my thoughts drifted to Lia, as it had been happening very often lately. Before heading to the studio, I’d dropped her off at her therapy session, agreeing that she would give me a call once it was over so that I could pick her up and bring her here. But thirty minutes had passed since the session should’ve ended, and there was no call or message from her.

I excused myself and stepped out into the hallway to call her. She picked up on the second ring.  

“Where are you?” I asked, my voice edged with concern.

“Making my way home. To your home. Or mine. I’m not sure,” her voice sounded subdued, a common post-therapy tone.

“I thought we said I’d pick you up,” I said.

“I know, I’m sorry. It’s just... I’m not feeling well,” a sob escaped her lips, small but audible. “I dont feel like going to the studio. I dont want to be cooped up within four walls again."

It took me a moment to think about what to say next, what solution to propose to her. I didn’t like the idea of her being on her own after an hour spent talking about her traumas, worries, and vulnerabilities.

“Where exactly are you?”

“Out on the street,” Lia replied, her voice tinged with uncertainty because she probably didn’t know its name.

“It will take you an hour to get back home on foot, Lia. At least.”

“I don’t care. I could use a walk around the city. It’s what I need. I feel…” her voice trembled, and she couldn’t finish the sentence.

“I can’t be okay knowing you out there alone when you’re feeling unwell. I’m coming to get you. Then we can decide where to go from there, alright?”

“Noah, I don’t want to keep burdening you with my problems. You’re already doing enough. You don’t need to worry so much about me, please. I’ll feel better in sometime. I have to take my next pill before lunch, I’ll feel okay after that.”

“Lia, if we have to have this discussion again, we will. Your well-being matters to me, and I’ll keep worrying about you until I’m an old grump. So, tell me where you are, and I’ll be there in less than fifteen. We can go wherever you want. The rest of the tasks here can wait. Besides, all Matt is doing is arguing with different people over the phone,” I pointed out, still hearing his voice through the door. I let out a sigh.

On the other side of the line, a mixture of tears and laughed escaped Lia, a sign of her acquiescence.

“Alright… I’ll send you the address. I’ll wait for you outside the Starbucks on the corner.”

“Good, grab yourself a coffee, and I’ll be there in fifteen minutes, okay?”

She didn’t get herself a coffee.

When I pulled up at the spot, Lia was leaning against the wall between Starbucks and the 24-hour mart on the right. The beer can in her hand had probably been bought there. Before getting in the car, she took one last sip and chucked it in a waste bin.  The beer scent lingered as she settled into the seat, but I didn’t care. I reached out instinctively to her, running my fingers through her hair. Her eyes met mine, a bit downcast.

“Thanks for coming,” she murmured softly.

“Where to?” I asked, still inadvertently playing with her hair, that fell in soft waves over her thin grey jacket.

Lia shrugged.

I kept on checking on her until it was obvious that it wasn’t her best day. I thought of what to do, where to go. I dug into my brain until I remembered a place. We had been there before, but that was many years ago.

I started the car and veered away from the city.

“Where are we headed?” she asked, noticing we were going the opposite way of home.

“Surprise,” I replied with a grin.

Lia frowned.

“Noah, surprises aren’t really my jam right now. I want quiet and…” she muttered clearly exhausted, but I stopped her.

Her tired eyes and dark circles showed she hadn’t been sleeping well, and her therapy session probably didn’t help her current state.

“I know. You’ll like this one,” I told her. “Have I ever surprised you with something you disliked?”

I looked away from the road briefly as Lia hesitated, which prompted me to urge her to answer, even though I knew what she’d say.

“Never,” she eventually replied.

“Exactly. So, relax while I drive. We’ll grab some food on the way.”

We made it to Upper Franklin Canyon Reservoir in les than forty minutes. Since it was a weekday and just past one o’clock, the place was blissfully uncrowded. The parking lot was only occupied by two other cars, and as we stepped out, the refreshing scent of nature filled our lungs. Lia’s face lit up as she took in the surroundings, her chest rising and falling with each breath.

I walked around the car and offered Lia my hand, just like we used to when we were kids. She took it, and together, we strolled along the wooden path on the left. After a few minutes, we found ourselves at a spot by the river, sheltered by the trees and the branches above us.

I released Lia’s hand, allowing her to approach the edge and take in the serene view of the water and the ducks gliding peacefully.

“I thought you’d like this,” I said, staying a couple of steps behind her.

“Thank you”, she said, her voice barely audible over the tranquil sounds of nature.

“Maybe someday we can go back to the lake where we grew up,” I suggested tentatively, unsure of how Lia would feel about the idea.

For me, that place held memories of happiness, of being with her. It was the place where the troubles of the world had felt distant.

But perhaps Lia didn’t share the same sentiment. Maybe she didn’t want to reminisce about our childhood, about hers. Maybe she didn’t even want to hear the name of our hometown. She had made it clear a few nights ago when she confessed that the memory of our kiss had brought back many other memories that she didn’t really want in her head right now.

As I reached out to comfort her with a gentle touch on her shoulder, Lia’s hand grasped mine and pulled me close until my chest met her back. In an instant, I found myself holding her from behind, my chin resting atop her head. I felt her trembling, and a solitary tear landed on our intertwined hands, resting on her stomach.

“Lia…” I felt helpless in the face of her pain. I couldn’t bear to see her like this. But I had no idea how to ease her burden.

It was clear she was grappling with thoughts of Mitch. She was haunted by the scars he had left on her life. His actions had intertwined with the memories of her mother and childhood, and now those were huge stains on her heart.

“I’m just so tired of thinking…” she confessed, her voice heavy with exhaustion. “I just want to shut off my mind, to stop remembering, to stop considering if I should’ve done things different, if I could’ve avoided this… I just want a break, if only for a few hours…”

Unable to find enough words to calm her, I hugged her tighter, pulling her closer and resting my cheek against her hair.

“And you’re so good to me...” she said then, making me furrow my brow.

I understood what she was going through, but I couldn’t comprehend why she couldn’t accept what I gave her. I had reassured her countless of times that she was my priority, regardless of any other relationships or relatives I had scattered across the globe. Lia was everything. She had practically been my beginning, and she would be my end.

Suddenly, Lia slipped from my embrace, not to escape, but to face me and return the hug, burying her head in my chest.

“I dont deserve you,” she sobbed.

“Says who, huh?” I countered.

“Me.”

“Well,” I lifted her chin with a finger, “you’re wrong, Lia Parker. So, get that stupid thought out of your head.”

With a hand, she rubbed her nose before sniffling and keeping her grip on me, her hands tied at my back.

“I want to do so much,” she began. “I want to write, and draw, help others. I want to be useful, make something meaningful. I don’t want to feel lost again.”

“You’re not lost, Lia. And if you were, I’d always find you.”

We stood in silence, holding onto each other, her body pressed to mine, the gentle breeze embracing us. Lia’s eyes sparkled brighter with tears, but I didn’t want them there. I craved her smile, the laughter lines around her eyes, the dimples and flush on her cheeks.

Lia was not a child anymore; she was a stunning beautiful woman whose past shadows lingered, echoing with the pain she struggled to silence. But despite the weight of her struggles, she was strong, and nothing could keep me from seeing that resilience that she refused to let be extinguished.

Yet, every time I looked at her in those quiet moments made for affection, I saw the little girl I had taught to play guitar, the one who had tried to teach me to make flower crowns, the first girl I had let sleep in my bed and the first to bless me with my first kiss.  

I couldn’t stop myself.

Brushing aside the strands of her hair that danced in the wind, I tucked them behind her ear and leaned in to plant a soft kiss on the tip of her nose.

She didn’t recoil or startle, but rather furrowed her brow and playfully protested, “Don’t be so sweet,” which only made me laugh. “Keep it up, and you’ll end up kissing me again.”

“Would you mind?” I asked with a grin. “Because I certainly wouldn’t.”

She huffed and swatted my chest.

“Bad boy,” she said, but then she nestled into my neck, finding a comfortable spot between my shoulder and chest. “When was the last time you hooked up with someone, anyway?”

“I honestly can’t even remember,” I admitted with a chuckle. It was the truth. “I might as well go celibate at this point.”

“Oh, sure,” her laughter reverberated through me, a beautiful sound that warmed my heart. “With whatever other books you must be reading about sex I doubt that’s something you would achieve.”

“Don’t underestimate me. I can read about sex and still be celibate.”

“Stop it,” she pleaded as her laugh increased. “I hope it’s not because of me,” she said next in a hushed, quieter, and serious tone.

“It’s not because of you,” I replied, though I wasn’t entirely convinced of that myself. “Don’t worry,” I said, brushing my lips against her head again. It felt comforting, her hair was soft, and it smelled so good. What wasn’t to love about this moment with her in my arms?

“I shouldn’t have let you leave the studio for me,” she continued, taking a deep breath against my shoulder. “They guys will hate me for keeping you away when the first show is just around the corner.”

“The guys understand what you’re going through and couldn’t care less if I’m in the studio with them today or not. I’m sure some of them are relieved not to have me bossing them around.”

“You are pretty bossy…”

“Hey, getting sassy again, are we?” I retorted, pulling away slightly to meet her gaze, which she tried to hide in my hoodie, holding tightly to my back to avoid letting me see the grin on her face.

Her laugh filled the air as she squirmed in my hold, and I couldn’t help but cherish the moment, silently hoping and praying that moments like these would bring some healing to her.  

Come afternoon, we settled into comfortable hours lounging on the couch, each engrossed in our own tasks. Lia was focused on completing song lyrics while I worked on my MacBook.

Eventually, we waved Jolly and Jesse off, who had their own plans for the evening. Jesse was going to visit his parents for his mother’s birthday and would stay with them for a few days, while Jolly was heading to Emery’s place after finally deciding to take things further in their relationship.

Lia and I couldn’t resist teasing him, a constant since the night Emery had stayed over and slept in his bed. While there was no 3am chicken wing date for me and Lia, it was clear that Emery and Jolly had hit it off, evident in their flirtatious interactions the next morning while prepping breakfast.

When Jesse announced he was leaving, Lia asked to check on the plants he had bought for his mom one last time. Jesse expressed his gratitude for her care of the plants since he had acquired them from the botanical gardens.

Once Lia and I were alone, it was already past seven, and we found ourselves back on the couch. Lia’s feet rested on my lap while I massaged her toes, watching another episode of Attack on Titan on TV as she worked on coloring some design on her iPad.

After the episode ended, I suggested Lia that we could video call Grandma. It had been a while since we last spoke to her, and we hadn’t mentioned anything about Lia’s situation with Mitch, only that they had broken up when things stopped feeling right. Grandma was aware of their relationship but knew little about what had happened later. Despite my efforts to downplay the situation when I spoke to her —Lia was in no condition to tell her—, Grandma always seemed to sense when something was going on. It didn’t matter how good I could pretend to make it sound as if Lia was fine and over it. ��Even if she wouldn’t address it directly, she could feel when something was broken. And when she saw Lia that afternoon, their conversation shifted to a somber silence after the initial joy of seeing each other on the screen, and Grandma’s eyes grew teary.

Lia and Grandma had a special connection that allowed them to communicate without words, and soon, Lia was seeking comfort nestled against my shoulder, trying to hold back her tears.

To lighten the mood, I smoothly transitioned the conversation to our upcoming trip to Japan, scheduled for a month after our tour in the States. Grandma was eagerly anticipating our visit and couldn’t wait to have us in her little house in the village after our shows in four different cities across Japan concluded. I shared her excitement, looking forward to spend some time away from home and submerged in a different country of a different culture with Lia.

After our videocall with Grandma, Lia and I turned our attention to dinner. Given her low spirits, Lia persuaded me to order takeout.

With a tray loaded with Chinese food and beer, we headed to the studio, setting up the bed on the pull-out sofa and deciding to watch a movie while we ate. That night, after seeing how down she’d been all day, I couldn’t refuse her anything.

It was dawning on me that Lia was my weakness, and I feared there might be no turning back from that realization.

As the night went on, Lia’s mood seemed to lift. The alcohol played a part, but so did I.

We were snug while watching the movie, the empty tray now back in the kitchen and two more beers back with us in the studio, in our hands. Lia was practically nestled against my side, wearing nothing but one of my t-shirts that looked oversize on her and dark panties underneath. I noticed, but I kept that knowledge to myself.

One of my arms was draped around her shoulders, and she was casually sipping her beer as if nothing had troubled her earlier.

I realized I was starting to feel a little drunk when I noticed that Lia was already drunk.

Her attention had shifted from the movie to my neck, where she was staring intently at a spot I couldn’t see. Before I could ask, her index finger found my skin and traced a tiny tattoo that was there.

“Lia,” she said, reading the tattoo I had gotten years ago.

“My favorite girl,” I replied, wondering immediately where those words had come from because I couldn’t remember intending to say them.

With a wide smile, Lia shifted and straddled my lap, her hands landing on my shoulders, mine on her hips.

“I’m going to get another beer. Do you want one?” she asked, speaking as if a beer were candy and she were an excited child allowed to indulge in something sweet.

I made a face, letting my head fall back on the headrest of the couch.

“Come on, pleaaase!” she pleaded, starting to play with the short strands of hair at the nape of my neck. She was doing a pretty good damn job trying to convince me. “It’s just you and me tonight. Can we get drunk and have some fun?”

“We’re already having fun.”

She pouted, and I would have fallen to my knees had I been standing.

“Alright,” I conceded, dragging out the word and giving in to her.

“Yaay!” she cheered, hopping over my legs to get up and fetch another beer. “I’ll also get a bottle of water.”

As if that would make any difference…

When she returned, she had the bottle of water clutched to her chest with one arm and two more cans of beer in her hands. I looked at her disapprovingly, but I couldn’t say no when she gave me puppy dog eyes again.

Jesus Christ, what was that woman doing to me?

The second beer turned into a third, and the third, somehow, turned into a fourth.

By then, Lia was completely drunk, and me... I was drunk, too, of course. Some common sense remained, but I was starting to feel sleepy and a bit dizzy, and if Lia just looked at me with those big brown eyes again and asked for anything else, I wouldn’t hesitate for a second before giving it to her.

Author's note: for the ones that have been following this series since I posted the first chapter, which is actually chapter 19, you know what happens next 😣 but I'm currently rewriting it and I'll be positing it in a couple of days, which will finally mean I've completed Koi No Yokan :)

[vtforpedro]

long life update - TWs in tags

It feels like it's been ages. I'm so exhausted and in a lot of physical pain. Going on two months of it being the worst it's been right after a couple of months of the best it's been. Chronic pain + grief + trying to get help from doctors who should have their licenses revoked + dealing with a shit relationship with my mom + a good, decades-long friendship ending + the ongoing disability process with the SSA + LAW FIRMS.

I'm so fucking tired. I don't remember if I updated that the appeals council decided not to review my case because the 'judge followed the law' except that he didn't. So, as it turns out, my original attorney (and he did not tell me this) before he left, wrote that if they denied me, it should go to federal district court.

I'm now working with a NY law firm to take my case to federal court because my current law firm believes it has merit, and I guess they do, too. That's how fucked the decision was, and I'm glad my initial reaction of bewilderment and anger was spot on lol

The good news is, it should only take another year! ._.

My neurologist is the worst doctor I have ever come across and I'm quite literally stuck with him with nowhere else to go. I wish him upon no one. I'm so tired of calling the SSA, getting documents to them, signing things for law firms, contacting law firms, getting no responses, and contacting them all over and over again. I am in incredible physical pain, like this actively makes my neuro stuff worse. Everything makes it worse. I have autonomic testing in a few days, and idk if I'll get through it b/c I have to stop the meds that keep me out of the ER two days prior, and it scares me.

My relationship with my mom is fractured and I don't feel like family therapy is actually helping. I had to end a friendship with someone I love and care very much about but who was growing too comfortable mistreating me and I was giving them too many passes 😞 I've known them for the better part of two decades.

It's been over seven months since my cat Isis died. I don't know how. It feels like she was here just yesterday. Yet, all the nights I've sat and talked to her and wept are all too real. I miss her more than I can say. She was my soul cat. I keep thinking about tomorrow and how she'd be so nosy getting into EVERYthing when gifts are opened at Christmas. Having to stop her, move her, laugh because she was just so n o s y and it was hilarious. And she's not gonna be here for that ever again.

I'm having a really fucking hard time tonight. It's just hitting me how god-awful this year has been and how I have a bad week to look forward to before even getting to the new year lmao I have to stop taking so many of my medications 48hrs before 1.5-2hrs of testing to see if we can find out Yet Another Thing Wrong With Me but knowing my luck it'll be 'no findings' and the mystery of why my core body temp plummets to 93.9 in the blink of an eye won't be solved until I have suffered juuuuust enough.

It never ends. Never. I want to give up. I'm so tired of doing this. I don't want to anymore. It never. fucking. ends.

I absolutely cannot say it's all been bad, though. I've met incredible, warm, welcoming, giving, kind people this year. Y'all have helped me more than you know and I'm so so so lucky to be able to call you my friends. This year has sucked for so many of us, but I want to say I'm proud of you, and I love you all very much.

My fic is gonna be printed in a hardcover zine early next year. I participated in a Big Bang for the first time and that'll also go out early next year. I'm hosting a tiny event in my tiny fandom server that I'm super excited about. I have a raffle prize to write (bagginshield !!!! SO EXCITED to revisit the og otp) and a Valentine's gift to write for another fandom.

I posted 401,000 words this year and wrote many more unfinished wips, plus a long one (90k) that I am very invested in finishing.

I painted and drew so much this year. I improved a lot, too! I got a couple of portraits printed from inprnt to see how they looked, and it was MY art, and they were GORGEOUS. I thought I would hate seeing my art professionally printed, but no! I almost cried. They looked so lovely.

My cat Lilly had health issues almost immediately following Isis's passing, but she is doing so well right now. She's blossomed into another cat, and while she's not my constant companion, she is with me so much more than she used to be. When she walks onto my desk I am to stop everything and hold her like baby in my arms until she decides that's enough (or I really need to move) lmaaao she's such a goober. My heart cat. <3

I'm not doing well right now--my MH is bad. Especially tonight. But it felt good to write the good things.

I'm sorry for my lack of replies and kinda disappearing. I'm running on fumes. I hope next year will bring physical relief so emotional relief can happen.

For those of you facing difficulties of any kind, I am holding your hand in spirit.

[psychabolition]

I just wanted to share some of my experiences with the psychiatric system, if that’s ok.

When I was a teen I was in and out of a stabilization unit for a couple months for repeat suicide attempts. During my time there I met a trans guy who I later discovered had been admitted for homicidal thoughts (fairly common, not really something I was alarmed about). What was alarming however was that he had been kept under near constant sedation for over a week. They’d kept him so heavily sedated that his heart had stopped twice and they’d had to bring in poison control, who finally told them after the third time they showed up that they had to stop or they were gonna kill him. They’d justified doing this by saying he was violent, but upon being brought out of sedation, he just wasn’t. Not once did he attack anyone or even threaten to do so. He was literally one of the nicest people there. He was also 14 fucking years old.

At the same hospital, a four year old was admitted for unknown reasons. I’d spotted him earlier in the day when he first arrived asking where his nana was. For whatever reason, he was put on the same hallway as me for the day, probably while they waited for a slot to open up in the children’s unit. That night, he started crying, asking where his nana was and screaming for help. Obviously just scared because he didn’t know where he was or why he was there. In response, the nurses started loudly complaining that they weren’t allowed to sedate him.

At one point during my stay, I had a bad anemic episode and stood up too fast on my way to talk to a doctor. By the time I was standing in front of him, my vision was blurring. I told him this, and he stood there and watched as I completely blacked out, lost my balance, and tripped into a nearby countertop. When I got my vision back, he was still standing there, and he asked if I was “done yet.” He thought I was faking something for attention despite literally having a document in his hand that said I was severely anemic.

Another girl was prone to passing out due to POTS, and when she had an episode that caused her to fall and only narrowly avoid hitting her head on the concrete floor, she got a similar “faking it for attention” treatment despite her condition being well documented.

A different trans guy had a rare condition that caused his ligaments to be extremely brittle, and his shoulder would frequently get dislocated and would sometimes require surgery to fix. He had this happen while he was my roommate, and instead of sending him to the main hospital’s ER to get him treated, they tried telling him to “just suck it up”. And when that obviously didn’t help, they had a random nurse come and try to pop it back into place, only to make it much worse. It was only after his shoulder had been out of place for almost 36 hours that they finally sent him to the ER.

When I got out of that horrible hospital, I was referred to a psychiatrist who kept prescribing me antidepressants, mood stabilizers, insomnia medications, etc etc. Whenever I’d say “hey, these medications aren’t working,” rather than taking me off the meds or switching me from one to another, they’d just add a new one. By the time they randomly stopped returning my calls so I could refill my prescriptions, I was on 12 different medications, most of them at their maximum allowed dosages, and none of which actually helped me.

As I mentioned, my psychiatrist randomly stopped returning my calls. Around that time, I moved out of the abusive household I’d been living in and started therapy. When I finally ran out of my medications, nothing happened. They’d told me quitting them cold turkey could put me into horrible depressive episodes and make me suicidal yadda yadda yadda, but if anything I got better after stopping them. The meds hadn’t been helping at all, because the problem wasn’t any kind of chemical imbalance, it was the fact that I was in an abusive household. Something I had repeatedly told them was probably the case.

Feel free to ignore this if you don’t wanna post it, I just kinda feel like shouting into the void about this and your blog seems like the kinda place that might find these horror stories actually useful.

Fuck psychiatry . Its so obvious that this whole institution isnt there to help us . Thank you for sharing your experiences .

[firesnap]

Using this blog as a. well. blog. tw weight loss tw diet talk tw pain management or whatever you need there.

Last year when I went to see Lvjy in Scotland and England with Mia, I hurt my leg. Badly. I had strained it before I left and during the trip just completely fucked it up. My doctor warned me I had done pretty severe damage to it. Tore a muscle, the muscle now irritates my sciatic nerve and can cause intense pain. I went to physical therapy and it slowly got better but I still had trouble standing for long periods of time in October .

After everything happened in February, I decided I needed to get my shit together. I started exercising regularly. Drinking less. Changed my diet. I started working on losing weight. And I had really quick results. I've lost 18 pounds right now.

But almost 2 weeks ago I hurt my bad leg. I don't know if it was on the rowing machine or when I took the nephews to a trampoline park, but over the course of a weekend, my hamstring got incredibly stiff and I started getting this electric shooting pain down my leg that made it hurt to stand and walk. The act of getting out of bed or sitting (and standing) would hurt so much that I wanted to just stay in bed the whole day.

I immediately got a doctor appointment. My normal doctor was out of town so she sent me to someone in her practice. I needed pain relief and a rec for physical therapy. I went in knowing that and just had a humiliating experience where the doctor implied she didn't believe my medical history and acted like I was wanting pain killers (when I hadn't requested ANY pain relief other than last year when I was traveling and then I ended up fucking up my leg so bad that it didn't help). But I got a prescription for tramadol for a week (and I've been skipping doses to stretch that out), an order to take 800mg of ibuprofen on top of that, and a referral for physical therapy.

But I'm still in just. Intense. pain. At first, I couldn't get the physical therapist to understand that I can't do a lot of these exercises and stretches without crying. Yesterday she seemed to get that and we tried cupping(???) and some heat massage to try and get my hamstring to relax but fuck man. I'm in so much pain today that I laid in bed and cried just from trying to get up

I just don't understand how to convince doctors that I can't heal when I can't even walk down the stairs or through the grocery store

[wromwood]

Something happened in therapy recently that has definitely happened to me before, and I wanna think about it for a bit.

So, I'm transitioning from one social worker to another because the new one will likely be a better fit for me. During our last session, I answered a few final questions in the previous social worker's assessment of me. In a past session, I'd mentioned that I was autistic, so she asked if I'd had any specialized learning plans or teachers/tutors during elementary/grade school, particularly after any evaluations I'd had. I answered no, but whether or not I needed that kind of help, an evaluation would've been amazing to have at that time.

The social worker looked a little surprised and asked when I had my autism evaluation. She got even more surprised when I answered that it happened a couple of years ago.

"But that's so recent," she said, double-checking my age to confirm that I had, indeed, been a legal adult two years ago.

"Uh, yeah," I said. I explained that I'd only gotten my evaluation at all because I was fed up with failing to convince my parents to do anything since I'd started asking about this in my teens, and finally realized "Wait a minute, I'm a legal adult now. I can schedule my own damn autism evaluation."

After confirming that I'd been evaluated in a legitimate medical setting (in fact, it was a research center in the clinic's own larger medical system), she asked what sort of autism I had. I had to explain where on the spectrum I was, how I didn't have "special needs" as most people understood them, how I could be independent, the whole thing.

I guess the reason this stuck out to me so much is that she didn't ask all these questions when I first mentioned that I was autistic, or when we discussed how an ideal social worker would be one who was experienced with autistic people. We talked about this, but she only asked further questions when she realized I wasn't someone who had been diagnosed in childhood. I suppose the assumption was that if I'd been diagnosed in childhood, then it would've shown in my schoolwork or social life in a very noticeable way, but as an adult, I would've worked through it and become the relatively-not-very-autistic seeming adult I am now. Or that I only would've sought out an evaluation as an adult for more "severe" signs of autism that would be more apparent when talking about my life.

I dunno, I'm not upset about it or anything, and otherwise, the social worker is great at her work. I just it's just a clear sign that there's still a stigma (perhaps lighter now than it used to be) about when and why someone would get evaluated for autism.

[nightsjod]

Since your "Friends" want to check up on this blog instead of you facing up to your own actions of bringing this up and proposals for "discussion" yourself and see i actually did message you PRIVATELY like this should have been. here

you are one of the most self centered emotionally controlling and manipulative friend i have ever had. the fact you keep COUNT of every time youve "helped" me through my "Troubles" and act like i have never once done anything for you is utterly insane behavior. i am EXHAUSTED from it. you wanted to end the friendship and im simply trying to honor that. im not fighting it. there is no point in fighting because i refuse to bend over and allow you to control every fucking thing i do again and you will not give in to see your own behavior EVER.

sorry i didnt want to TRAUMA DUMP on an anon like you so much like to do and try to remain optimistic and positive on my public blog but since you want to air out my own PERSONAL LIFE ON TUMBLR which you are very much in the wrong for doing so, ESPECIALLY using it as a weapon against me, fine. and especially since you want to go into fucking discord servers to claim i was lying about getting help after your messages, and publicly trying to call me a fraud then fine. i will also be public and honest like you want.

i tried to kill myself over this. i sincerely could not take it anymore and i felt like everything fcking shattered because no matter what i did no matter how hard i tried and what i did it was never good enough for you. you could never accept that i had a full time job, i had other friends, i had my own issues THAT DONT INVOLVE YOU and my own ENTIRE life and it was NEVER good enough for you. mad at me because i "dont follow through with plans" like we arent 24 years old and i work 50 hours a week? when have u ever once texted me "lets play this together tonight. lets see a movie tonight" you didnt. you are mad i didnt make the effort for YOUR life. i DID go to therapy because of it. you want to see the hospital and medical bills ive been paying because of it? because i will. call my fucking mother and she will tell you what SHES had to go through from this because she is also done with you and you airing out every issue youve ever had on her every time youd come over and never ONCE asking her how she is doing after losing her husband. call HER and tell her i was "obviously lying" when i said i would get help.

i wasnt going to fight it. i didnt want to bend over and "Just listen and change my behavior" because i didnt need to change. i was DOING my best. friendship isnt a transaction, unlike you keeping count every time you helped me apparently i didnt bc it wasnt things i Expected returned or expected PRAISE for. i bought games for you i WANTED to play together so wed have something else to talk about other than Negative Topics because i wanted you to desperately feel better and happy with something but you COULDNT because you could not stop being obsessed with your own misery and nobody likes being around that. thats the bitter truth. so i said bye because it wasnt worth it and if ending our friendship was something you TRULY thought was the best course of action then like fine. whatever.

so please continue telling everyone you meet every day the rest of your life about the horrible bad friend you once had. who never did anything for you ever because i know you are going to. and continue to surround yourself with equally controlling people who validate your feelings. i will be enjoying my life and continuing to ignore any further messages as well. ok, bye

[medicus-felini]

ᓚᘏᗢ Small (actually not so small) vent below. [Depression tw]

I don't know how to describe it exactly why but I got a massive mental burnout the other day. It may be not my bestest decision to share it here but I feel writing it down is better than keeping it for myself.

All the bad things that happened and still happen to me caught up. I feel awful. I lie awake the whole night only to break out in tears when my partner woke up. There was too much in my head to even spell out what exactly made me break down.

I am looking for a job for years, trying to get a normal daily shedule only to never get an answer and to fuck up my sleep shedule for the 100th time. I am getting 25 this year. My depression and panic disorder I developed when covid began seemed to 'heal' in a way. I went to group therapy, got medication which I still take to this day. I am stuck because I have trouble doing phone calls. Trouble TIPING IN numbers for real therapists.

Time is awful. When will I be done with learning a job? I will be 28 if it happens someone recruits me this year. And then I work. I will have so much less time for things I like. Speaking of which: I catch myself falling into the 'I don't enjoy the things I normally enjoyed' loop again. That was one of the main reasons for taking antidepresants and it now seems to crawl back.

I want to at least do something I enjoy. Writing, drawing, playing video games. I started to feel little joy in it again. It makes me angry to not be happy with my time. I don't want this.

I text my family less and less not because I am mentally exhausted but because of their believes. All except my dad (which I always had little contact to) openly and proudly boast about how they vote right wing parties in Germany. You can't discuss with them. I can't. Because I instantly start crying like some trauma haunted 12 year old back in the day when my mom raised her voice. This party I am speaking of actively stands for traditional beliefs, inbetween against lgbtqia+ (which, surprise, I am part of).

They only see points they like. "Oh, they won't get this through, you will be fine." BUT YOU VOTE FOR THESE BELIEVES. You actively support these anti lgbtqia+ shit only because you are racist and intolerant towards NORMAL PEOPLE who live their lives in Germany like everybody else for years.

Next thing is they hate my partner. Something that really only was a question of time passing. My mother always seems to dislike my and my sisters partners after some time. Finding little things she can pick on and passive aggressively point them out. Making everyone awkward and feeling unwelcomed. I feel unwelcome. It is my partner. My choice. You despite my choice and thus insult me with it. Family gatherings became horrible. My partner doesn't want to say anything because he is scared to 'mess up' and my mother getting fuel for her hatred. My sister is young and living with her. She took on my mother's believes politcal wise. I love her dearly but I feel like she also only plays mirage only to talk bad behind my back, which she usually does with other people.

I feel so alien. I don't even want to drive over there to my birthday. I would love to but it doesn't feel like my family anymore. It feels all so forced. My dog gets older too. He is the reason I still look forward a little bit when visiting them.

Writing this feels good in a way tho. Even if I know the majority of my moots only as little guys in my screen, I feel loved. I will observe my mental state these next weeks. If it doesn't get better, I'll call my doc and ask if we can higher my dosis. Just so I can think clearly and focus on important matters.

*Siiiigh* okay okay thanks for being lovely babes ♡

[nyrator]

Got the Rotten Nyan tumblr queued up with art I've neglected to post on there.. keeping a few more sketchy doodley art still on Twitter/the website, but should be all up a little after midnight my time~

... still feel really self conscious with the kind of content I've been making vent art of lately, please don't be afraid to message me with any concerns or criticisms... I tried tagging it all with a custom warning tag (that way it won't nuke the post, I think...) hopefully that's enough... if not hopefully people let me that as well

In other life news, I'm seeing a therapist, got a job, etc~ More in the cut

So, yeah. Life.

Still a vtuber, but feels like I've stalled lately... Not in terms of growth (if anything I keep growing), but in terms of motivation. I have a list of games to play, but I just can't focus on playing games anymore, it's rough.. mostly do zatsus, but even those are pretty hit or miss and sometimes I spiral into really dumb personal unprofessional rambles...

My art commissions are picking up- more than I can handle, honestly... My clients have gotten pretty big and it's getting me recognition, I have a few big offers in store once I can get around to them and I'm excited about it... but commissions are hard. I'm going to raise prices in January, and I try to accept five a month... but I can't keep up. I can't even do one a month it feels like... And yet I keep getting dozens of requests..

So in spite of this, because of my own doing and lack of doing, I've been bleeding a lot of money. I'm at a dangerous point of money... so I finally got a seasonal job at a local chocolate shop.

Haaaaaaaa.....

It's rough... I was in a huge depression over it, and I still don't want to work... The people are nice, the hours are light, and the pay is better than expected, but it's still so stressful... My social anxiety is terrible lately, it makes me want to curl into a ball and cry. I can't stand it, I can't stand being seen, I can't focus or memorize anything on the register, I can't handle dealing with customers or fast-paced environments...

They say the season lasts until Easter because of the nature of the store, but maybe I'll leave after Christmas time if it doesn't work out.. It's really a pain, and also could affect things like my food stamps and subsidized rent. Plus, the gas I have to spend, the clothes I had to buy, etc etc.. I wonder if it'll be worth it (probably, but nyeh)

I'm in need of money, though... one, my phone is on its last legs. The battery barely lasts an hour, it's very slow and unresponsive, and the 32 GB of storage is becoming more and more unwieldy.. Going to maybe buy one tonight...

My throat is also been a mess lately- I've had trouble swallowing, to the point I was unable to eat anything without a 50-50 chance of just choking on it. Drinking water was like waterboarding, it was like I was drowning. After raising my mattress, it's helped a lot, but not entirely, so I think it's something to do with scarring thanks to acid reflux- been trying to get an endoscopy for a year and finally have one scheduled in mid December. I'm worried how much it might cost.. hoping insurance covers it, but I still had to pay almost a thousand for my colonoscopy a few years back, which terrifies me...

Other small things- items I'd like to own, taking care of Bootsie (she's fine but overdue for a checkup and she's like 13 years old), etc.

But yeah, therapy. Also started taking that- we're trying to avoid me taking any medication, but I'm afraid I might need it.. I see her every week and I've been going since early October, and she seems like a decent therapist- she's the same age as me and understands a lot of internet culture, which.. is weird to talk to someone like that who "gets it" (she's a cosplayer, for example, and knows of vtubers), but it's nice.

Been reliving a lot of past stuffs... Been trying to improve, had some good phases, but fell back apart recently and not sure how far I can really get... keeping my apartment clean is hard, feeding myself is hard, drawing and doing anything is hard. I don't watch any media these days besides some indie vtubers I know, I don't really do much of anything but be depressed.

My biggest issue, as always, is my complex/trauma/whatever you want to call it... I've started trying to embrace it the past year. I've openly admitted to it, I made an alternate Twitter account for vent art of it, etc. But it makes me hate myself so much... It's become an addiction it feels like. Do I let it consume me and fully embrace it, even though it will push people away and make people think worse of me? Even though it will attract strange people who want creepy things from me? Even though it's expensive and gross and exhausting and uncomfortable to manage?

Or do I try to quit cold turkey? Get it all out of my system, and then never talk about it again. Delete the vent account, stop drawing it, stop being paranoid without things to take care of it, and just move on. I don't know. It's a part of me. But I hate it. And I really hate myself for it, it's my biggest tool to hate myself with.

But I've tried to embraced it, and that's what the RN update will have, and I apologize for it. I don't know how to move forward now. Therapy reopened a lot of thoughts about it- it really is a weird trauma, and a lot of it stems from my childhood... I want it gone. I want to be okay and not hurt myself mentally...

But such is life I supposeee. Again, I apologize that most of my art lately has been venting about it.. even if I embrace it, I don't want to be exclusively that kind of artist, you know? It's just one of many aspects. But it's invasive. And I don't want it to be invasive, but I don't know how to handle it.

The main goal of therapy is to get me drawing again. To give me what I've lost- a drive and motivation to continue. It feels like I just go through the motions when I draw. It's awful. I can't picture anything, no ideas. Rotten Nyan is completely stagnant lately. I don't know what to do about it. Life is just empty and depressing, it feels like. I gave up on myself, and now I don't know how to un-give up. But that's what therapy's for. Hopefully it helps... She brought up medication again, and I wonder if I should try it at this rate...

My anxiety is very bad. I end up relying on my complex trauma coping methods a lot when anxious. It's embarrassing and gross. And it just fuels my anxiety more using those things. I can't stand driving, or being around people, or crowded situations. I can't handle stress, or excitement, or being praised, or anything. My nerves are shot and I just have to curl into a ball. I don't know how I'm going to improve, but I have to try...

And then my focus, which I just can't focus at all anymore.. I don't know if it's depression/anxiety, ADHD, or what, but I just can't focus at all. It's awful. Very forgetful, very not-able-to-draw.

Otherwise, not much different. Got the new Nagata Kabi manga (I still worry about her a lot... she's so relatable though, she speaks to me, but she flares my anxiety like crazy too...) Still obsessed with my Disney anime boy gacha game, it's great, Vil's great. Vil, Cater, Lilia, Jade... so many good characters....

I guess that's all for now. Hope everyone has a happy thanksgiving- will keep doing what I can to try to improve.

And again, I'm really sorry about my art output and that most of it is just gross vent art about a gross personal trauma... I'm sorry...

[the-rockstar-lestat]

How is the aspect of gender dysphoria handled in your kind ? I can imagine it must be miserable at times if hormone replacement therapy treatment dosent work ?

Fascinating question! Off the top of my head I don't believe I know any vampires who have attempted a medical transition, weather before or after their turning. So I will answer this question as best I can by telling you about my mother, Gabrielle.

What, did you think Gabrielle's cross dressing was merely for convenience? It may have started that way, but it didn't take long for my mother to begin preferring men's clothes to women's clothes, and it didn't take long after that for her to realize that it wasn't because men had more freedom, SHE simply felt more free in them.

This was around the time my mother abandoned my company, and society completely, to live in the forests or whatever it was she did for two hundred years. She tells me she reentered the human world around the time I left it, the 1920s, and with it came a new gender expression. (Before that, she says, they didn't really DO genders in the gobi desert. )

Gabrielle was a very early adapter of trousers on women, inspired by the likes of Greta Garbo and Katherine Hepburn. But she still identified as a woman. By the 1950s, she tells me she had found the lesbian scene, and that glorious word butch and for a long time, that was her identity. ("oh Lestat, you don't know how many beautiful women I ate back then," "....in what sense of the word --never mind, Mother, I don't want to know.")

Anyway, I believe that is what she was identifying as when I met her again, a butch woman. She had short hair for a while, cutting it off every night to better fit in with her subculture, but she, like myself, is a child of the 18th century, and didn't find her long hair a detriment to masculinity, despite her famous attempt to cut it. For a long time she wore it in a braid, along with simple, masculine clothes, mainly athletic wear, to suit her athletic lifestyle, although she occasionally donned female clothes, often simply to show off that she COULD. Sometimes a feminine touch was added, a pearl necklace, a high heel. But these were objects of our time as well, and not necessarily out of the bounds of masculinity. I don't believe she was ever truly comfortable presenting femme since the night I brought her into the blood. This was how I knew my Gabrielle.

Recently, however , led by the newest thought from the queer community, Gabrielle has begun rethinking her gender. She heard the term non-binary, and I don't think I've ever seen her REACT to something as much. There was something between man and woman, male and female? Something that didn't require her to confirm to either her assigned gender or the one she still had some resentment towards?

Since that revelation Gabrielle has talked a lot to me about her gender. Dysphoria was a term she used for the feeling when she was alive of "this isn't right" and may have been one of the (many) reasons she was such a cold person in life. Something was bothering her deep in her soul she didn't have a word for. Since she was able to present more masculinly she's been a much happier, much warmer person, she talks much more and is able to connect to people more than she ever could. (though she's still vice president of the introverted vampire society, second only to my Louis.) Gabrielle feels most at home in the queer community, and it's one of the few, though growing number of things we share. We invariably wish each other happy pride month.

As for how she dealt with it, her changes were minimal. She changed the clothes she wore, and occasionally her haircut. Gabrielle has yet to ask anyone to call her by a different name or pronoun, and she certainly doesn't mind when I call her Maman, though I most often call her by her name these days. Of course if she were ever to change her mind about this, we would all certainly oblige.

I don't believe she has any desire for surgery or hormones. If she had, I would have to ask Fareed if such a thing were possible. Our flesh is very difficult to pierce, but he has invented specialized needles before, I don't see why he couldn't invent a specialized scalpel. Our healing process is almost instantaneous, so the removal of flesh for what is commonly known as top surgery ,while painful, would probably be relatively simple to do and heal from. The adding or changing of it I imagine would be more difficult . Our bodies default to homeostasis (look at that beautiful science word I know!) as Louis once told you. I can see us rejecting any surgery or implants. Although it may be worth noting we can reattach our own amputated flesh. I've seen it happen and it's not a pretty process. I'm not sure what that signifies but perhaps....something.

I imagine , though, if a human was taking hormones before they were turned their body would maintain THAT amount of change, unable to be affected further or to revert. Like all vampires, they would be frozen as they were the night they were changed.

Anyway, that is in the realm of science poetry, but I can ask Fareed more about it if you like. It simply hasn't been tried. But I would be excited to watch it happen! I don't personally know any vampires who desire this, but it's a matter of time before we meet one, isn't it? And I have plenty of time.

@askblog-with-the-vampire will you ask Fareed if you see him?

[husk-of-filth]

I am in an absolutely foul mood today. Check tags before reading and don’t feel like you have to read.

Is it not enough sleep? The fact that I missed my meds yesterday? Is it the snide remakes of my co-worker after he fucked up an order that I now have to reprint and cut? Maybe it’s how my other co-worker keeps yawning loudly, as if to make a point how tired he is.

Or maybe I’m just that much of a fucking asshole.

I want to enjoy the snow and cold, but instead I have to drive on icy, slick roads with other drivers feel the need to ride my ass because they have “places to get to.” Their destination is far more important than my life.

Maybe my rage comes from years of people pleasing and patience for those who do not have patience for me. Years of saying “I’m sorry,” over and over again for something I never did, and yet I’m still at fault. Years of assuming the worst in myself and not believing when people tell me different.

I remember when I spoke to a therapist and told her that I feel like a narcissist. A hot buzz word that people love to throw around these days. She gave me a confused looked and asked, “why do you feel that way?”

At the time, I was at a loss for words. Why did I feel that way? I was so emotional charged, my brain had completely shut down, I just said, “I don’t know.”

But it feels so obvious in retrospect. I feel that way because I often think of myself. I think about how something might affect me before making a choice. The jealously I feel when people don’t talk to me, especially when I feel talked over and ignored. How I get annoyed at every inconvenience that shouldn’t even matter. The way I create work for myself. Even if I’m making something for someone, it feels as though it’s coming from a desire within me.

If I make you feel better, it makes me feel better.

Me.

Me.

Me.

I used to hate being called “brat.” My brother used to always call me brat, amongst many other things. It used to hurt so much. I remember talking to my mom once, at like 14 or 15, sobbing about how he called me a brat.

It’s feels silly, now. Thinking about how much those words struck me. Now I like being called a brat. Just like much of my trauma, I’ve morphed it into some form of sexual pleasure.

Do I even have the right to feel hurt when someone says something negative about me? Do I have the right to feel anger? Pain? Sadness?

I remember once when I was in high school and I confessed to a friend that I was feeling depressed. He looked at me with so much annoyance and said, “you don’t know what depression is. Being sad isn’t depressed.”

Another set of words that had marked me. Maybe I had said something before that had pissed him off. I vaguely remember we were talking about a friend of ours who I believe wasn’t in school that day. Had I made some kind of comment about her depression? About not coming to school? Had I selfishly declared, “well I feel depressed and I still come to school?” I can’t remember and I never will. Instead now I carry the weight of, “you don’t know what depression is,” with me.

It took me so long to seek any form of therapy. It took me sobbing against my tub, screaming about how a voice in my head kept telling me, “you should just kill yourself.” Over and over and over and over again. It took my startled partner, who carried their own baggage and trauma, to force me to go to the doctor. To get medicated. To talk to a therapist.

Selfish of me, really. To put that on them.

I wish I could carve away my skin. Peel it back to see what’s underneath. Would I find flesh and muscle and bone? The same as everyone else’s? Of course, I would. Tendons and fat. They all exist within me. I’m not special. But maybe there’s something rotten there too. A festering sore that makes me more bitter with each day.

[iamdrowninghelpme98]

Entry 27:

2024

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

November

The holidays are creeping closer and closer, and with them, this hollow ache in my chest grows heavier. It’s like the world is moving forward, lighting up in celebration, while I stay frozen, still carrying so much hurt and grief. Last week, I fell into a bad place again. Alcohol and pain pills had me in their grip, suffocating me, but somehow I’ve managed to start pulling myself out. This week’s been better, at least in comparison, though I’m still a mess in so many ways. My sleep is a disaster—either I’m awake for days, restless and staring at the ceiling, or I collapse into bed and can’t find the will to leave it for days on end. No matter what, I don’t feel rested. I just don’t feel good.

I don’t talk about being sick very often. What’s the point? I’ve been sick for years now, untreated and ignored. I try to tell myself it’s my poor self-care catching up with me—my broken sleep schedule, my barely-there meals, my spiraling mental health. But deep down, I can’t help but wonder if something worse is happening, if my body is finally giving out. Maybe I’m just too tired of trying to keep it all together.

And yet, not everything is bad. I have to remind myself of that, over and over again, because it’s so easy to drown in the darkness. My sisters have been around more, and being with them has been a comfort I didn’t realize I needed so badly. My adopted dad has been texting me often—it feels so good to have someone to talk to, someone who genuinely cares. My job’s going well too. For once, there’s this tiny glimmer of excitement: I’m on track to get a bonus, which is huge for me. I don’t have much to hold onto right now, but those things matter. They’re keeping me afloat.

Still, I know I need help. I need to be in rehab or therapy again, somewhere I can work through the weight of everything. The medications I used to take helped so much, especially with the nightmares and flashbacks, but I’ve been off them for far too long now. The nightmares are back in full force, tearing through my nights like a storm I can’t escape. Lately, it’s the same one on repeat- the day I lost my daughter. I can’t stop replaying that memory, as much as it tears me apart. I think about it constantly, especially now, with the holidays forcing family into the spotlight.

I keep seeing myself there, in that hospital room, so scared and so alone. I was in labor, induced suddenly because something was wrong. I didn’t have R. I didn’t have my family. Just me, and these doctors who were strangers to me. I remember watching the door the whole time, praying he’d walk through it, praying someone- anyone- would come sit by my side. No one came. I’ll never forget that fear, that feeling of being so small and powerless. I’ve been in hospitals before, but nothing prepares you for something like that. Delivering a baby is monumental enough, but to do it alone, knowing something was wrong, was unbearable.

And then she was here. My little girl. But she was already gone. R came back only briefly after it was over, held her for just a moment, and then he left again. He left me there, alone with my grief, for the rest of my stay. My nurses were kind- too kind- but I couldn’t even speak to them. I couldn’t let them in. I went mute, retreating into my pain, and they must’ve known how broken I was. They’d come in with sad eyes and soft words, and I hated it. I wanted to disappear, to stop existing in that room, in that moment, in that unbearable silence.

I think about that time so often now. I wish I didn’t, but I do. I miss her more than I could ever explain. Every day is a fight to push through the heaviness, to survive this season that should’ve been full of joy and family, but instead reminds me of everything I’ve lost. I’m trying, though. I’m trying so hard to find the light in the little things, to believe that maybe I’ll get better. But it’s hard. It’s so hard.

[sincelastsession]

Mom got really shitty with me in the car and continued to fuss me about me trying to prove to her that these scammers that she speaks to are not real and I was trying to still explain to her that I was not trying to hurt her I was trying to help her avoid getting her heartbroken and that I did not want her to Live in a delusion where she thinks that these people are actually going to come and save her.

I understand what we spoke about in therapy.

I understand that sometimes when people are doing idiot things I just need to let them.

It was not ok for her to jump my ass after and be cruel about my partner possibly not being real and was he going to come see me? I have known him 7 or so years and been in a relationship 6 of those years. A background check was run. There's no script or scam. We both are poly. Neither of us can afford a visit. But we video chat and we have calls and message and Travis has spoken to him. He has never asked me for anything except when I asked him what he wanted for his birthday it was "trinkets" and he didn't want me to really spend more than 20bucks because he knows on ssi I don't get much and told me I didn't have to get him anything every other year. But I got him trinkets anyway and he went out and got a cigar box to keep them in and treasures what I chose to send.

I don't appreciate her questioning my relationship when she's talking to people that use her for large sums of money or promise her things if she commits fraud. I didn't want her to think a military general would need her to send him a dime for any reason. My uncle knows that general personally. My friend and his wife know of him and they were the experts to call. I was doing in my mind a protective thing.

To her it was obviously threatening her delusional happiness and plans to get money and a man to sweep her off her feet and buy her a country club home etc... my mother has always been after ANYTHING that could get her money or fancy things. My father paid of 60k of her credit card debt.

She's a psych nurse sure. But she's had to call me to ask me about mental health conditions because she doesn't know about it as much as she presented. She's only been at this job for a short while. She's done other nursing for many other things. I don't thing she's ignorant but I feel that no despite that being her job she doesn't always know what she's talking about.

She is elderly and she is very good at presenting herself as a strong smart professional and kind. But away from eyes of others she's very easily hooked to scams...like been doing publisher's clearinghouse and other types of mlm etc and diet scams etc other than romance scams.

I'm mad that I have to just do the "Let them" thing. I totally understand that it's needed now.

I actually was done with that and she's obviously still mad and threatened.

Both of my uncles are concerned despite drinking about her mental state with sort of things but they all fought and they're all at odds. At the time she had no problem with me calling anyone and didn't voice to me she was upset because I did check in to ask if she was.

This is one reason today I was sorta "wtf" because there were MANY other things to talk about. I'd asked if we could save harder stuff for a later session.

I do understand I need to learn "Let them" better. I do understand what you're frustrated with and it frustrates me too. My brain is going very fast. I've already heard and registered what you've said and it is a sort of agony waiting on people and holding thoughts. I'm not on adhd treatment. It was easier with the medication to hold thoughts and pause and allow people to know I was listening etc...

I still think there is something broken in my brain like autistic not clicking or other neurological.

I am very open to exploring ways to work around these challenges. If it's possible we will see how that goes.

For me big changes are scary.

Not using the correct words or tone is a problem I have that is a misunderstanding creator.

I explained why I use the terms I use. I've just been automatically learning and speaking this way my whole life. That imo is the autism. If we can work on that in a way I can wrap my head around what I'm not exactly seeing then cool.

There's a video or a few on here that showcases EXACTLY my frustration. I'll give you time to get to it.

Being neurodivergent and of different mind is a unique and frustrating experience I've always had but never understood.

Sometimes it feels like the whole wide world just doesn't understand me and wants me to be something that I cannot be or I don't know how to really really upsetting.

I would compare it to people not accepting that their children are queer and wanting to send them to conversion therapy instead of accepting that that's how they are.

I know that even with autism there are things that I probably do need to learn and work on but I'm really touchy about it and I'm really scared of change because I've had to find ways to be Comfortable and going out of my comfort zone is very very irrationally scary for me.

I am frustrated about the session which I expected to be really because I cause I don't know how to say what I'm feeling correctly and I keep being misunderstood and that is aggravating and I'm not mad at anyone really I'm just mad at the sitwaition of me having issues understanding and vice versa.

I do feel that you know you're excited to work with me and you know help me understand things better and change bad behaviors and tweak good behaviors to be even better or whatever the case.

Logically I understand all of it. Well as best I can. Emotionally I want to want to continue crying and scream and fight and all of that. I feel like I'm waiting on myself to get those feelings out of the way. Like they have to catch up with the logic and I don't know how to put it in any other way that's the best way I can put it I have a really hard time trying to explain things to people and I use metaphors a lot and sometimes that makes it worse.

The incessant talking and interrupting and I guess I don't know you seem to think it's from me not feeling hurt and the thing is I'm not like that with everybody. It has gotten worse and I don't know why. Possibly everything that's happening is all subconscious and I'm not consciously doing it. I'm trying to pay attention but I guess I'm not Recognizing I mean that's a total possibility.

I don't see how I was mean and that's frustrating. And of course outside of therapy you don't see how I got treated after therapy. And of course my mother was thrilled just like my father was thrilled to talk to you and it once again really did feel like I'm in the hot seat and I'm getting grilled and I know that that is not anybody's intention to make me feel any sort of way or I shouldn't really feel that way.

We can take a break from people coming in unless they call to make an appointment then I'm fine with that and I still want to continue therap one-on-one withh you but I am getting very burnt out on the interrupting subject and there's a million other things that I want to talk about and work on. Does feel like I'm going to have to tackle this before I do anything else and that is making me mad because I don't know if I can change it. It feels like I'm having 2 people please everyone and do everything in a certain way to fit in and 2 Make everyone happy. And I don't really know how to explain the rest in words.

I guess you could say that I am very rejection sensitive and there's probably big giant valid reasons for that due to trauma and bad events that have happened and events that have happened over and over and over again and I'm sure when I was out of the room my mother let you know things I guess I don't know and that's fine.

I get frustrated because I have this journal and I have the entire internet and I still am having problems trying to explain things because I read it and I'm like fuck that's not what I meant to say that looks this way he's possibly going to interpret it in a certain way and I'm worried about that and I understand that that thought process isn't so great either

And then there's the thing of doing cognitive behavior therapy and dialectical behavior therapy techniques with people who have complex PTSD or PTSD in general it can sometimes be very invalidating to our traumas and emotions and there's many articles on it.

Like to be honest when I journal I don't even like how I journal and it aggravates me so much but I'm trying to push through and not try and go back and shorten things or fix it or pour over it like an obsessive person trying to make it perfect for my therapist to read because then it would take me forever to express myself.

And it still takes a long time me just using Text-to-speech on my phone. Or just typing it out. So sometimes what I write looks like a fucking nightmare for anybody to read and I'm exhausted and I'm just not having the band with to go back and fix it.

And yes I'm extremely mean to myself nobody ever really needs to fuss at me or yell at me or even correct me unless it's something that's like super unobvious to me because I can see I just don't know what the hell to do about it other than apologize and continue to work on fixing it.

I do feel this gross unfairness that I'm the one that's been in therapy since I was a small child and you know the abuse that I have gone through not just from my parents has put like weights on me and I don't feel it's really fair I don't feel it's fair that I have to be in the water therapy but I am because no one else will do it and no 1 else can do Rap for me and I don't khow to do all of this in such a what feels like a short amount of time I have big issues with time sometimes times goes by really fast for me or really slow or I won't Miss A lot of time and I don't know where it went or what in the world I was doing that made the time go by so fast or if I was even mentally present during that time.

And I mean I'm at home I'm in my apartment I'm in my bed I'm in so much Pain. Physical pain.

There's not much I can do about it except bitch and be aggravated because it's just one more thing I have to deal with and smoking weed is not helping the pain and I don't have other pain medications I feel comfortable taking for it because I have never received proper pain management in my adult years I had a very good pain managemen a Doctor that is no longer practicing and we had everything to work it was working I wasn't having addiction issues I would take a piss test everything was fine and I had medicine for when I needed it for when I couldn't deal with it anymore.

And now I have the medical marijuana which is sometimes very enjoyable as a lot of people do enjoy it but I want to be more clear headed but sometimes I have to just fucking smoke or take a edible. It does often slow me down I've considered being like hey Joshua why don't we have a session where I Smoke out and get a ride to therapy and I ride home and I'm a lot slower when I'm stoned for pain or anxiety. And the thing is my anxiety medicine used to help a lot with the excessive talking and the anxiety but I'm in a flare.

And it seems like even though the Doctor has fussed at me to take the full 3 mg which I am trying to do but I don't like having to do it because I really don't want to fuck with my tolerance. Like that used to work really well but now you know I've been on it a long time it only seems to help like the other issues I have and it does sedate me but my anxiety and such my PTSD the things that caused me great disdress is on fire according to my Doctor and my primary care and The hypervigilance and theStress hormones and such seem to be overpowering the medicine. However if I did not take the medicine I would not be able to sit there and talk with you at all because I would probably be in the hospital screaming and being sedaided with heavy duty meds. It's all really frustrating.

It feels hard to just be a person.

And I don't think I'm like my father and I really don't like being compared to him I know that we have similar traits but I'm not my father I do not think like him I do not purposely act the way that he purposefully acts. And you know my father is kind of obsessed and my mom is sort of obsessed with me being like them. And they're obsessed with pointing this out to me and it makes me upset because I don't want to be a damn thing like them. Not with all the crazy shit I have experienced my entire life no fucking way. But I understand yeah they raised me of course I am going to be a little bit like them at least. And I do feel sometimes like I have some sort of stalk homes syndrome with them and I feel like I need their fucking approval and I'm so tired of having that feeling. I mean there's rare moments where I just don't give a fuck. But I wish I had more moments like that. Just letting people do the stupid thing is very difficult for me. Trying to talk to people about the stupid thing that they are doing that is bad for them and could potentially harm them or whatever the case is very very frustrating and difficult for me. I feel like certain message are cruel and other methods even though they're very direct and jarring to people I would rather just say something instead of spea fucking riddles and dance around the subject to where they have to guess and I don't understand really how neurotypical people speak.

I have always had trouble with that and I've always gotten like screamed at.

And you spoke about mirrors today and when I mirror people they don't like it but that's what I do sometimes because I don't know how else to act so I'm just trying to fit in and I think I'm doing what they're doing but obviously I'm not In some instances like clearly I'm failing at trying to mirror and mask And fit in with the rest of society because society is not built for people like me it's built for other people They do not have the same issues. And I spoke at length with my psychiatrist and his PA about how like 80% of the world is not nerd a Divergent and the other like 20% or whatever numbers that gave me you know we have a very difficult time and we're very intelligent and navigating through life is very hard and confusing.

I do understand how the DSM is very frustrating I don't even own a copy of it I wouldn't want to own a copy of it I have read other books about how they used to just diagnose everything as schizophrenia. I don't like that so I assume that that's the kind of aggravation that therapist feel like you mention.

And I tried to explain how I view it and why I speak the way I speak and II hope you understood that I am not trying to just use buzzwords and I don't even know what what you think about that but I'm not doing any sort of thing I've just always like picked up on what doctors were saying as a child and asked questions and started using that vinacular.

And Doctor Todd used to tell me that I would have to dumb myself down going to various doctors because they would be threatened by me using their language And it was very aggravating to them but he understood that it was just because I grew up in it and it became my special interes

I don't really want it to be my special interest but it just is I wish I could like bird watching or some other like Nish subject.

I wish I was obsessed with knowing things about something else honestly.

I mean I used to have a very large encyclopedia of knowledge about conspiracy theories and horses because I really loved horses growing up like obsessively and I had a pony growing up I was lucky it was a rescue was like a $100 pony and that was a good point in my life parts of that but my grandfather did not take care of it and it died and I'm still hurting from that even though my grandfather is dead and the horses dead etc.

And I used to take english writing and Western writing and I'm very good at it once I get back in the saddle and adjust back to it strangely enough I can't fucking ride a bike but I can ride a horse like a motherfucker. And I wish I could get into some sort of horse therapy for physical therapy type thing or just psychological type therapy actually looked up a traumatic therapist that used her horses for therapy unfortunately I think she quit practicing she was an older lady.

But also I could not ride if I wanted to right now because I am not small enough unless there's a draft horse. And I went off-topic so the following paragraphs are connected to earlier paragraphs.

I really was just trying to be assertive and I still don't see how I came across as mean because I was trying very hard to be kind and come across properly.

I do think that when I was in regions and between that time and after I got a concussion it sort of set my PTSD on fire and I had to calm down from that and I was doing pretty well and then the thing's following like you know last year did not really help me on the upswing because you know healing isn't linear. And I have theories that because I took myself off the pro's act that was making me horribly suicidal with the approval of my psychiatrist that the oc d and the other conditions I have that it was also possibly helping to treat could haveYou know not had the components of the medicine to calm that part down but also after I was in the car wreck that gave me the concussion I had a little bit of amnesia for a short period and it was little things and sometimes it's still a little things like there's people that come up to me and I have no idea who they are at time that's happened since. But I do know when your brain skaken and you have various conditions it fucks with those things. Not verbatim but the neurologist and my passed psych explained this. It was also Doctor Todd's understanding that it was probably a bit of everything and that the concussion did inflame it.

I'm feeling pretty bad and confused and misunderstood still. I don't understand why it's not clicking in my head. I'm definitely crying my face off.

You know I wanted to try and just shut up and let you catch up with my journaling and I know you're a speed reader but I told you I do type a lot I do talk a lot and I'm trying to like let it all out in the journal because it does feel like it helps to some extent I don't know what it's actually doing but I guess it's better than texting everybody and verbally telling everybody this over the phone which I know it's a lot of repeating and I don't know how to make that stop I have tried I have been trying it's been the bane of everyone's existence and my own for quite a while and I'm tired of it just as much as everybody else and I'm The one that has to live with it and I don't like living with it it's fucking irritating I just would love to be normal but I know that I'm not and I don't think that I will ever be normal but I would like to be better.

I do have a lot of triggers with therapy and I can't lie about that to you because that's something that you need to know I can't give you exact things. I don't know really how to articulate a lot when I really want to. If I figure out how to I'll explain it. I mean that's why I Post videos and info graphics because sometimes that's easier for me to communicate with. Sometimes just pictures and settings and art is easier to communicate with than words I have always been a visual spatial learner. If there was some way where we could use physical objects to explain things to me that might be very helpful. For example my last EMDR therapist used things that she would use with children and I don't know what they're called but she used that so I could explain shit to her.

Because I did talk a lot with her and that wasn't issue with therapy and I don't know how she helped me not do that.

I mean we did use the IFS system a lot and she did point out that the manager of the IFS system is the one that is talking so much and getting in the way of my core and I do not even know what my core is because it's very hard to talk to core because all the rest of the IFS system is guarding it and part of me even if I don't recognize it it's probably guarding Child me.

And I've done lots of inner child exercises but she's not there.

She's hiding somewhere and I can't find Her.

Or she's not there at all.

Sometimes it feels like my inner child is dead or never existed.

That makes me cry and makes me very mad.

Because I never really feel like I got to be a child

I didn't even like other children growing up I thought they were dumbasses I used to be in like second grade just sitting there watching people play and do what Normal elementary school kids do and I would get bullied for being Different of course because who doesn't and I just fucking hated other children I thought they were dumb as fuck and just disgusted by most of them and I thought that they were stupid

Not all of them but just if I'm generalizing. And how I grew up was very not great I mean I didn't get what I needed and being an adult I'm trying to pander to some of my inner child which I can't seem to find nor recognize if it is there like I think about buying Myself toys and things that I NEVER got to have or do things I'd NEVER got to do and Do That as an adult like I see a lot of people my age getting Back into

Because we have the adult money now and nobody can tell us that we can't go by the thing that we wan

But I have a budget so I can't really do that but I also own about a million hobbies because that's what happens I get bored I have to figure out something I get fascinated with a hobby I buy that thing and all the tools to do the hobby I start the hobby I get bored with it I try to find Something Else.

I'm worried that I'll never get better and I'll just always be this fuck up.

I mean because I've been abused so much it's hard for me to recognize if people are being kind to me unless it's very obvious and you know I do get defensive but what you saw was not really neat trying to be defensive it was just me saying something and it sounded that way to you and to my mother but to me it didn't And I'm sure if I had listened to myself recorded I might have been able to hear what you me I really didn't recognize what was mean.

I mean I know that the way I speak and we have always spoke has been pretty directed jarring for people and I've tried to adjust it and I've tried to please people and you know after a while I got fucking tired of it and just started talking how I talk and acting how I act because it got exhausting trying to police myself to make other people happy and then those people ended up hurting me anyway so why was I trying to make them happy what was the point It's just like

If my parents had a problem with my queerness or my relationship which they said they didn't have a problem with but obviously they do and that hurts. Because yes I have a hard time recognizing myself however I know that everything I do and say is somehow part of myself even though when I try to look at it I can't and I don't like that it bothers the fuck out of me

I mean when I was younger I saw the psychologist Doctor Carrie Mack and I don't know if you know about him. And he worked with me on cognitive behavior therapy and a lot of different things and I tried to get my parents involved with the cognitive behavior therapy because I wanted them to understand but then they just turned it around on me all the time and everything I did was wrong and I thought distortion and my feelings were invalidated because they would be thought distortions and not valid feelings for trauma as I went through So that's why it's a very confusing practice for me and so is DBT it's hard for me

And a lot of times things that I say that some of my excuses are just explanations to me.

I'm not trying to make excuses and try to make myself feel better and give people all this extra information to make myself feel better at least not consciously am I doing that I don't even really think that way. I think that's why I'm so confused about it is because I don't think that way and I don't know how to describe how my mind works so people can meet me halfway or be accommodating and it's a positive given take instead of me asking for help and then everybody kind of fucking resenting me

And that's exhausting for me andMental work is extremely exhausting.

And it's 705 PM and my neighbors have decided to all go outside down to the pool and start screaming and hollering and laughing and I can hear them talking about me and I can't prove it and I can't get out my phone and go on the balcony and sit there and record them because it's not going to help anything but still this whole situation is fucking distressing.

I would really like help finding a place that is good for me to live in other than this place I don't know if I can ask that of you I don't know what to do my mom and dad keep telling me to go to apartment complexes and call and talk to all these people myself but I don't know what I need to be asking etc

And then I'm worried about my ESA cat's litter mate who was the best buddy of Miss Spot who I had to take out of the gross fucked up environment into my home and give her the best last months of her life I could. That still hurts TREMENDOUSLY. I'm still VERY angry at my father and sister for the neglect.

All I want to do is go save the other cat now because my father's and sister's other cat are bullying him and he is a very beautiful shy sweet cat.

I'd like to move and go ahead and take him in. He was an ESA for me at home and does the same things my other two cats do to signal me.

And if it wasn't a good fit I foster with CABR and I know the foster coordinator and I know all the people over there and I could possibly find him a good fit of a home where he would get the love and Attention and calm environment and possibly be able to Help another person if it didn't Work Out with his old litter mate June or my Younger cat Griffin.

You know there's a lot of things on my mind other than just my family and the way I speak I mean there's a lot of puzzles and problems and things I'm trying to solve and it is all going on in my head at once and it is all very very overwhelming because it's a lot.

I feel spread very thin because I can't organize what's most important to do

I will often neglect myself to get things done that could wait

And I know that's not good.

I have many people I need to speak to and catch up with and I haven't been able to do that and I feel that they must think that I am an asshole and I don't want to lose connections with them because I'm having a hard time. And the thing is I've told them I'm having a hard time but I've been having a hard time for quite a long time and I feel like they don't really have the patience for waiting on me anymore and that hurt.

I really don't know how to speak to my old mentor Stephanie who is still friends with me because she doesn't understand me even though she tries very very hard to do so and she has her own mental health struggles and she's got grandchildren now and it makes me sad that we do not spend very much time together anymore and she often says very negative things to me and it hurts my feelings and Sometimes I wish I was more like her in the way that she just does stuff and doesn't fucking care about other people just like a large population Of people just only care about themselves in our self focused and I feel like I'm often the exact opposite of that.

I feel like I'm more focused on helping other people instead of myself because I'm better at helping other people than myself.

Just like you could put me in a messy room at someone else's house and I could clean it up and organize it but if you put me in my room it's a fucking nightmare for my brain

I'm one of aggravating things is I don't know how to talk without using certain terms and I don't really want to dumb myself down by trying to use simple terms but I know that I'm gonna have to do that in order to speak with your average everyday person that doesn't know so much about these things and did not have the experiences I had growing up and all that it's like having to be bilingual And I don't know like maybe another secret language a secret third thing that's what it always feels like it feels like it feels like it's just a secret third thing I don't know if you know what I mean by that.

Anyway I had some things that I was gonna say and I can't remember it now and I want to try and take a break and I don't know what I'm gonna do like I had plans but now I am kind of lost and I don't know what to get done

And I'm super fucking pissed at someone questioning my real legitimate relationship VS an imaginary one that's just a scam and I'm fucking mad about that still and I don't know how to get over being angry about that because I do not like people insulting the ones I love and I do not like people scamming people I love either and I do not like it that the people who are getting scammed get mad at me and do not understand What is going on and what I am trying to do to help them and just letting them makes me feel like a bad daughter. It's really distressing when mom comes to visit and she's giggling and smiling and speaking to her friend and that's not a real person that they say they are and I wish she would not pull her phone out to talk to those people around me because it does trigger me because I went through a lot of grief proving her wrong about 3 other instances of this.

And it put my sister through a lot of grief as well but she is better at not giving a fuck and blowing it off because she has the lovely brain of a 22-year-old and it's much easier when you're that age in my opinion to just not care and be all up your own ass

And I do wish that I could go back to my brain in my teenage and early 20s because I feel like I had the appropriate amount of no fucks given on certain subjects versus now

I was braver back then and now I'm scared to go to the grocery store alone

And that is not good and I don't like that at all and I'm no I'm not the only one because it's a common topic online with people there is even memes about it. But these sort of things I cannot stand and I'm tired of dealing with

It is frustrating seeing my sister fuck her life up and yeah none of this is in my circle of control absolutely none of my family is in my circle of control. And they are triggers and I love them any way even though they've hurt me very very badly. And I feel very rejected by them and a lot of people because people don't understand me.

I do feel more understood by other people who are similar to me because I think that those kind of people like me communicate the same way.

Like some other autistic people I know understand exactly what I mean and I don't feel the urge to repeat. I feel comfy and I actually relax talking with them.

Matthew the past person not to be confused with my ldr...was autistic and adhd. They felt like home and it was EXTREMELY easy to communicate with them about everything. Sometimes I have fantasies that they will divorce the wife and come get me. But I know that's a very unlikely scenario.

Matt and me want to be close. He's grieving things and being vulnerable with me and clear and learning and I think we're doing well on being supportive and clear with one another.

I do wish he would visit but I have insecurities that I'm sure he has that it won't feel the same in person or what if there's no in person chemistry and I know he has worries about his social circle wondering why he is in Louisiana. He's private and doesn't want to be nagged by friends and family who would find out and flip. They already don't like his other partner Kathleen because she is married. Her husband and Matt are just friends though they hang out. They aren't in a relationship afaik. So those ppl that had fits about her wouldn't respond well to me. However he has told me that there are a small circle of people that do know about me because I asked because I was like hey you know I'm not jealous I'm just curious but do you talk about me like you talk to me about how much you love Kathleen and he answered and said yes he just doesn't really talk to a large amount of people because he made the mistake of doing that with Kathleen and he got a lot of shit for it. And he doesn't want to go through that again and I can understand why he doesn't want me to be in the spotlight and people to be trying to add me as a friend or question my motives and my feelings for him like they did with his other partner. And their relationship is completely separate than mine and his and it doesn't really bug me too much because I mean it just doesn't I don't know how to explain that like I don't feel jealousy like other people do in my opinion. Like I've been jealous before but it didn't last very long like not even a full day. The longest I've ever been angry and jealous with him about another person was aspeak and then I got over it 1 day I was just like what I was just like whatever fuck it. I understand that he has a stronger connection with her since she's there and he sees her all the time. Like physical connection. And you know I've been talking to him about the same amount of time andI think that we have a beautiful emotional connection and when we did have a long distance toy we did have a decent long distance physical connection but those fuckers have very faulty mechanics and break very easily and aren't cheap to replace and I gave up on it for a bit because it's not within my budget and he bought the first one and so I would need to buy the second 1 and honestly I don't feel that the sexuality is very necessary and nor does he right now like we're both just not feeling eager to be sexual In a long distance manner howeverIt doesn't mean that that effects are dominant submissive relationship which is not supersexual either. Sometimes we have moments but it's not like other people I know that fuck like rabbits. It's not like that kind of thing. It's sort of unique unto its own. And I tried to explain to my mother the reason that I hadn't flown to see him and he hadn't flown to see me is because we are not in good places in our lives to do that and we both have big stupid fears and we both do want to do that it's just not the right time. And I don't view it as an excuse he has been very clear and so have I. I feel like it's a healthy relationship even though it's long distance and I am threatened and pissed that it was brought in to question by my mother today just as much as he was angry when his mother and father disapproved of his relationship with someone who is married already.

I mean he has expressed that he wants me to get enough attention from someone here because he can't be here to do that for me he wants me to get my needs met but I can't really find anybody here that I'm comfortable with right now other than my ex-boyfriend who is acting strange since he got s over and seems to be hanging out with people that I find to be still unhealthy for him but he is much younger than me. So that I don't know if it will ever be a thing again because we have gone from friends with benefits to dating back to friends with benefits and then he was out of the country for a year teaching english and he was very miserable and he came back and it was friends with benefits and then at 1 point he decided to put me in best friend zone or whatever the case and I was like OK and I accepted it even though it was sad And I did tell him that if he changed his mind to let me know and then the week's following he gave me very mixed signals because he would flirt with me Very obviously and I would be shy and then not realize that he was trying to get it on with me. And now when we see each other in public it is just very awkward and it used to not be and I don't understand. I mean he's sober now and I wouldn't change that I'm very happy for him but I miss the way he was vulnerable when he was drunk all the time. I don't want him to drink again though. And he's the only guy in Baton Rouge that I think I would allow to touch me at this point in time. Probably the only man in this state.

I mean I'm getting really sick of my pamentioning that I should date Travis and I should try out stuff with him when me and Travis are like you no thank you we are basically siblings that's incestuous disgusting no fucking thank you. He's not my type and I'm not his type we get along great as friends and I'd like to keep it that way.

Then I have Justin who cannot follow my boundaries of I will contact you when I am doing better and we can hang out and talk and be friends. Instead he is texting me random things and I am not replying because I am pissed off that he has crossed those boundaries. He is pushing those boundaries just like he tried to push me to have sex and I am very mad about that still. Because yes I understand that men just get hard for no reason or when they're turned on sometimes I get it I understand that but when you're cuddling with somebody and you're like poking your Dick into their butt on purpose and then pretending like you're not doing it on purpose that is violating. Because I've cuddled with many men and if that happened with them and they knew that we were not going to be having sex they would excuse themselves to the restroom and take care of the problem so it would not bother me.

I mean Matthew was asexual and would often have that happen and my ex-boyfriend would have that happened and I would not want to do anything other than cuddle and they would not ask to do anything further and they would be respectful.

And I am still very bothered by Justin because it's like I did really want to be friends with him and try out a little relationship but he did not understand me at all and he was very pushy and he would put things on me and so now trying to have a friendship with him feels very weird because he's nothing like he was when we had our little fling when we were younger he has something wrong with him there is something off

And when I say that there's something wrong there's something off it's in the eyes. His eyes scare the fuck out of me now they are not the same eyes I remember. And you know when people say that all of their exes were crazy that's a giant red flag because how can his past 2 ex-girlfriends be crazy when you know I heard all of the information and I feel like there's lots of missing you know plot holes. And I thought that it was gonna be a thing that worked out and we could date and things like that but as soon as he learned that I would not be giving him sex he quit treating me as nicely and he had a tantrum about reading a book about polyamory and I'm just like what's wrong with just learning about it then I thought that you were okay with that and he was like no I was gonna be that for you and I'm like that's not a good thing you don't try to be polyamorous for someone when you're not built that way. He was very threatening to my relationship with Matt and he was very disrespectful towards him and I don't like that.

I wish I could just well I actually could break the boundary and try and talk to Matthew because there's things I still want clarity on and I know that Matthew doesn't hate me but I don't want to cause upheaval in their marriage.

I mean he lied to me. And he holds himself at fault and he has apologized and I have forgiven him even though it was very hard and even though I still get angry about it I forgave him because I understand. It is pretty frustrating that You know he stayed in the marriage for his children and I know that he still can't stand his wife and that relationship but he's just faking it for his children until they are older.

I know this to be true because one of his best male friends is actually banned from hanging out with him alone as well because his wife's psychotic. She doesn't want him hanging out with anyone no matter what gender they are other than her and the kids and his family. However he and his guy friend who I also know did meet up at some point and he was able to communicate with them to relate to me that he was not happily with her he was just doing it for the kids. And they were separated at the time that me and him had an asexualCuddle buddy watch movies eat pizza sort of relationship. And he had lied to me about things to do with her but not about the abusive things that she did because I heard many voice calls of her just verbally abusing the crap out of him and it took everything for me not to pipe up and say something really awful to her. I mean I even helped him look for divorce attorneys because he was just ready to end the marriage.

And then at some point he decided that it was going to be terrible for his children and he quit with the idea of ending the relationship and started to go to couples therapy with her and they became no longer separated and that is what the lying was about.

And she was more angry with him And told me that it wasn't my fault and she didn't blame me and she just asked if I had sex with her husband and I said nope and we never did and all that ever happened is he kissed me and I was honest with her and she has control over his phone and he is not allowed to use it to talk to anyone around her but I suspect that he has another phone or when he goes to his mother's house Where he has a room there when he can't stand to be around his wife is when he gets on tik tok And He will like everything I repost or he will like the tiktok that I make. And I did have a very short conversation with him on there and I felt bad for breaking that boundary and I haven't spoken to him since but I talked to him to get clarity about something and he sent me a paragraph that was very scripted. But it gave me the clarity I needed and it seems like that's never going to be a thing and I am grieving that. And I was never involved with them to be a homewrecker I really did think that they were going to get a divorce and it didn't start off as a romantic thing at all we were friends first and he made those moves. But it really wasn't many moves to make because we were just so comfortable around one another and there was no sex there was curious kisses basically because he didn't really like that too much and I didn't care because that's not really super important to me if it's somebody I care about like there's toys I wouldn't die.

And I don't know I need to just shut up for a while but I keep talking because I'm stressed out and I need to get certain things out of my system.

I mean right now as I speak my neighbors are outside in the pool purposefully hollering and screaming and it is very distressing to me and when I came home to that bullshit yesterday it was very upsetting to the point my mom had to come spend the night and I feel shit about that but I am scared. To come home today and have those neighbors glaring at me near my apartment eating chips the same chips that we're in the fucking astray Was very telling that they are the ones that were responsible for touching and fucking with my property and that means they have no respect for me or others or others property and they don't care about anything and they don't understand what the word courtesy means and it's really interesting because they're muslims and Muslim people like real Muslim people who practice religiously do not act like that from my experience. Like I don't know I suppose it's the same thing with christians and Christianity I don't follow either of those really because I don't think that I need an imaginary friend to have good morals and values. I don't doubt that there's some sort of higher power of some form butI don't subscribe to made up imaginary friend religions that are more new than anything els Like I mean there's ancient religions that you know how to a female and in history it seems like a lot of the female dynamics in religion have been erased and that's fucked up

Anyway I'm off-topic again always it seems. But yeah my neighbors are outside being extremely loud and screaming on purpose because I think the office let them know that I had PTSD and I think they're just now torturing me aside from fucking with my shit to get back at me.

I cannot wait to move and I am so scared that I'm going to lose it before I get to move.

I wish I could just have a sit down talk with office mediation with those neighbors so I could explain to them that I don't actually have any problem with them as people I just would not like to hear them screaming and hollering and being very trashy all times of day. And I know with apartments you get a mixed bag of neighbors but you know my neighbors before even a fucking drug dealer we're super polite and super courteous. And it doesn't have to be this way at all and I think you know if the courtesy officer sat down and the office manager sat down and I sat down and so did the occupants of that apartment and I just explained that like Hey you're really loud and it's difficult for me to get any rest when I'm hearing screaming and nobody else around the complex does this because I go on walk sometimes when I can make myself get out of the apartment and I've never had this problem in the past 5 years with anybody that lives here. Just mostly people off the street and people off the street jumping the fence to get in the pool which would be loud because they would treat it like a public pool instead of a private residential pool.

It also sort of disturbs me that people have their kids playing in the pool by themselves outside past 8 PM at night II don't know what sort of parenting that is but I think it's pretty fucking stupid and 1 day they're going to end up Walking out there and one of their children will be drowning and no 1 is going to get down there fast enough or something.

I know it's a lot of my control is just frustrating and I need to vent

[briamichellewrites]

68

2006. After a year of being evaluated, Bria was finally diagnosed with an unspecified dissociative disorder. That meant her symptoms didn’t fit into any particular diagnosis. Emma was her only alter. She was aware of everything she said or did while she was in her body. Everyone was relieved that she finally had a diagnosis because she could start treatment. Mike asked about medication. No, the disorder didn’t have any medication.

She just returned from being on tour to promote her comeback album, Let’s Try This Again. It was given great reviews by critics and fans. Mike and Bradford were concerned about her being on tour. What if she had a hard time and needed to go to the hospital? They hired a psychiatrist to go with her as a companion. She did have a couple of episodes where Emma came out.

But other than that, she did a great job! Nobody except a handful of people knew about her alter. She brought in millions of dollars from ticket sales, marketing deals, and merchandise sales. Almost every night was sold out. Renè was keeping track of how things were going. He wanted to put the tour on hold indefinitely when he heard about her new mental health condition. Bradford respectfully argued against him. He and Mike talked.

They both agreed that going on tour would be good for her. She was not in danger of hurting herself. He listened to every point he made before agreeing with him. Yes, he was a businessman but he was also a concerned friend. He and Céline researched what Dissociative Identity Disorder was. She was currently working on her new French album.

They wanted to come to LA during a break in their schedules. Bria was excited about having them! She and Bradley were dating. He became used to not knowing what kind of mood she would be in when he came over. When Emma came out, he didn’t initiate anything sexual because he didn’t feel comfortable with that. He knew that she had serious mental health problems and he considered those when he decided to make her his girlfriend.

He also talked to Mike about what he thought. Should he pursue a relationship with her? He let him know what he was getting into. Bria did a lot better mentally when she was in a relationship than when she was alone. Yes, it would be frustrating sometimes but she would be the kind of girlfriend that encouraged him. She would be there cheering him on.

When Phoenix joined the conversation, he agreed. When they were dating, she was his biggest supporter and cheerleader. He had to take the good days with the bad. The good days when she was full of energy, made everything worth it. If he let her go, he would regret not giving her a chance. She had so much love to offer. He shouldn’t just base his decision on her mental health problems. They both hoped he wouldn’t lose her. If he couldn’t love her, another guy would.

He was so grateful he took their advice because she was everything they said she was! She made him feel like he could do anything. He didn’t need drugs or alcohol because he was truly happy. When her tour stopped in LA, he went to her concert with the band and Linsey. They were all in awe at what she, Bradford, and Mike put together.

It was better than her last concert. As she sang, they could feel her happiness. She had to be on stage performing for a crowd of people. They heard the sound of the fans cheering and singing along. She interacted with them like a professional. Linsey had tears in her eyes because she thought back to how hard she worked to be on stage again. She did physical therapy, speech therapy, and occupational therapy. All with a positive attitude and a smile.

Phoenix hugged her. Pride was an understatement! In the middle of the concert, she addressed the crowd. She thanked them for their thoughts and prayers for her while she was in the hospital. Her fans cheered. They were all expecting her to perform a surprise cover of a song. What would it be? Because You Loved Me by Céline. It was more than an appropriate song.

You were my strength when I was weak

You were my voice when I couldn't speak

You were my eyes when I couldn't see

You saw the best there was in me

Lifted me up when I couldn't reach

You gave me faith 'cause you believed

I'm everything I am

Because you loved me

It was just her, the piano, and her backup singers. When the song was over, the crowd cheered. Two hours went by so fast. Before they knew it, she was saying goodbye after taking a bow. The lights came back on, as Bradley stood in shock. Oh my god! That was one of the best concerts he ever attended! They all had passes, so they could see her before she had to leave. She was so excited to see them! They hugged her and said congratulations to her while they were in her dressing room.

She was bouncing around after getting dressed in her street clothes because she had excess energy she needed to burn off. She thought that was so fucking cool! They laughed.

“What song did you choose”, Rob asked her.

“Because You Loved Me by Céline Dion. It’s one of my favorites. It was either that or Coming Out of the Dark by Gloria Estefan.”

“What song is that?”

“It’s a song about coming out of hard times. Gloria wrote it in the nineties. She was on tour when the bus she was on was hit by a semi-truck. The road was icy. They thought she would be paralyzed but she learned how to walk again. She then went back on stage and continued performing.”

Wow. Just like her. Why did she choose not to perform it? She was saving it for when she was in Miami, Florida because that’s where Gloria and her family lived. Oh, okay. Céline and Renè were going to have them come to the concert because they wanted to introduce them.

Joe jokingly asked what Emma thought about the concert. She thought it was the coolest thing ever. They laughed. Bradley put his arm around her shoulder. It was one of those moments where he was so happy he gave her a chance. He would be kicking himself if he didn’t. How could he miss that concert? He would remember it for the rest of his life!

After a while of visiting, she had to say goodbye. They hugged her again and told her they loved her. She loved them too. Bradley kissed her before following them out. She grabbed a bottle of water from the cooler on the bus because she had to take her medications.

Her psychiatrist watched to make sure she took them. Good job. They said good night to each other before she went to her room to get ready for bed. It was around one in the morning and her body was starting to feel tired. She would wake up in another city. It would be another full day of radio show interviews before meeting fans. She would then be back on stage. It was crazy but she wouldn’t trade it for anything.

@zoeykaytesmom @feelingsofaithless @alina-dixon