#an exercise my therapist wants me to do
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resiliencewithin · 8 months ago
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I am as effective a teacher as I can be right now
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thedisablednaturalist · 1 year ago
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I think when people think of mental illness and what helps, especially with things like anxiety and depression, the treatment involves pushing yourself. Pushing yourself to get out of bed, to exercise, to take a shower, to go out in public, to order your own food from the cashier, etc.
And because the mental health movement has grown so much, people think that's the default of ALL illnesses. That the only way someone will get better is if they push themselves. That practice makes perfect. That you'll become more comfortable or strong over time the more you do something.
But what people need to realize is, with physical disabilities and chronic illnesses, pushing yourself in most cases is DETRIMENTAL. Pushing yourself past your limits can lead to flare ups or further injury. That's why it's important to know your limits, how certain activities may affect your condition, and learn how to either adapt or get help to complete the activity in question.
Also, most of us are already pushing ourselves. Most of us don't have access to the help or equipment we need. Most of us live in places where we frequently encounter inaccessible obstacles. Most of us NEED to rest.
So please don't try to be our physical therapists or doctors. There are people specifically trained to help us navigate our own conditions and limitations. There are people trained to help us strengthen our body's resilience without causing flare-ups or injury. Do not tell us "it'll be good for you" or "you need the exercise" when we say something is too heavy or too far or when we say we need our mobility aid(s). Your friend with depression may need to be encouraged to get out of bed, but your friend with chronic illness definitely doesn't.
Respect our rest.
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ghostzzy · 5 months ago
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feeling the angst today. my dad was like “try ketamine therapy” again yesterday and i’m like. in order to do that i’d have to get off All my medications. and in order to do that safely, it could take months. during which i would be basically nonfunctional. so do you want me to do that or do you want me to get a new job. cuz it’s one or the other.
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jimkirkachu · 2 years ago
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Wtf, even just browsing job sites / listings / descriptions is enough to make me nauseous with anxiety and depression. When, why, and how did I ever become such a useless and pathetic mess?
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bunnyboy-juice · 2 months ago
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;~; (tags vent)
#i feel so lonely and i dont know how to fix it#im trying to engage with people. im trying ot take space. im trying but nothing is helping#and like im hormonal so i wanna cry about it today#and like this loneliness isnt for one reason only#there's no One Thing#but so so many things making me feel like i cant connect#and even wiht making progress and even with coping and even with reminidng myself its okay to just feel bad sometimes like#i want company. i dont want online company i want irl company. i want friends. and im so miserable about the fact that i struggle to#make irl friends - not bc im not a good friend!! honestly tehre's been plenty of opportunities for me to make friends is the worst part#between work; disabilities; energy; and like interests/things to talk about its really hard to make friends (and tbh the first three-#really are the biggest drains). and i love my online friends i do i jsut. miss them all so much when i talk too much and then it hurts more#and i lost a friend group recently so im feelng really out of place#nearly everyday for the last idk. 5 months i had a group of people going “hey. love you” (even if they didnt say it verbatim daily) and lik#im so sad! and the feelings are coming out today ig cause i havenothing to do at work so im just. here#but yeah - ik part of this grief im experiencing is YET AGAIN experiencing change and loss re:friendships bc of things largely out of my#control /: and every time this happens it just brings up every single wound#im talking with my therapist about it too i just. wish friends were more permanent in my life yk?#or at least that i had friends irl still /: but all my deepest connections are all So far away#and it hurts so much to miss ppl rn im just. isolating myself#but i dont awnt to TALK. i dont want to TEXT. i dont want to hang out on a vc. i awnt to be held and loved and just talked to about anythin#other than the stresses in peoples lives. i want people to infodump to me w/o me having to Beg or Engage Correctly#i want people to tell me about themselves. jsut fucking lore dump in my inbox. its not dumping. i dont care about trauma dumping. if you do#cw i guess i jsut. im so tired. im tired of the “haiiiiii love you!!!!!” i have to do over the keyboard to have social connections#im tired of being so disabled i cant make friends bc no one wants to be friends w/ me irl and all the reasons (“ur a flake” “u cancel plans#“u never want to go out” “u never have energy” “why do you disappear when you need to recharge it makes me feel bad?” etc etc etc) all#relate to me being disabled and like.i feel like the problem. my existence is a problem. and the worst part is all iwant to do is just.#go run errands with someone. do important tasks &get a little treat to celebrate after. go to the doctor. the hospital. wherever im allowed#i want ot be a PERSON#): i jsut miss my friends#and liek im going to a thing later this month to try and make friends irl even if its just exercise friends
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naamahdarling · 1 year ago
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Time for y'all to
send asks!
again!
#i have to do a treatment plan tomorrow instead of you know actual therapy that might help me and MAN THOSE THINGS PISS ME OFF#y'all at Therapy Place make me take these but it's like...no#no i will not call 911 if i am suicidal#no i will not call y'all either#no i will not call a crisis line because i'm never suicidal from things they can actually help me with#and i can do the counting exercise alone#i have my own plan and you are not part of it and don't get to know what it is because you cannot be trusted with that information#it goes on the tall shelf away from the pathologizers kidnappers gatekeepers and just plain assholes#i SUPER like my therapist she's great but man these people expect me to barf my entire life story on demand any time there's An Assessment#and they don't give me anything in return#please#i want to know the worst thing that happened to you#no details just tell me in like three words what it was#and let it flash through your mind#i want you to remember it with me and for me on demand just for a second#and then we can look in each other's eyes and i won't feel like a dancing monkey and you won't feel like whatever it is you feel like#because you are insulated from the need for exchange of some kind between humans having intimate conversations by your job#must be nice for you#are YOU having nightmares? do YOU ever feel like the trauma is happening again? never almost never sometimes most of the time always#no but seriously i'm sure giving dozens of these takes a toll and i do have sympathy#but they still expect me to do it without any objections and I am NOT getting paid and they are NOT having necessary health care gatekept#so it's still really unequal#sorry not sorry
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arodrwho · 1 year ago
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also GOD my BOSS wants me to PRESENT SOMETHING during a MEETING as a stupid STRETCH GOAL. like ma'am. please. i'm dying here
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eversncenewyork · 1 year ago
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¯\_(ツ)_/¯
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fuitygummy · 2 years ago
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I think I’m failing therapy
#personal fuity shit#I can’t answer my therapist’s questions#I feel like I’m only repeating myself every session#I can’t do the things she asks me to. and I don’t even know why. I just can’t#I don’t exercise. I don’t leave my room. I barely drink water. I have an eating disorder#I honestly don’t know what she could do for me. and I noticed she doesn’t either#maybe I truly am a lost cause#I’m stuck in place. can’t get better and sometimes seems to be getting worse#when I told her I don’t even want to live anymore she kinda got. pissed at me?#she made it sound like ‘being alive only because I don’t want to make my mom sad’ is the most insane and wildest thing she’s ever heard#and that I was crazy to even think about it#as if that wasn’t my only thought for like idk 8 years or so#ALSO she keeps putting my bisexual identity in question every opportunity she gets. like wtf#just because I’ve never hooked up with a girl doesn’t make me any less bi#‘are you truly bi or just curious?’ idk and idc ma’am you’re the one bringing this up and making it look like a problem#I’ve got lots of complaints but. it’s not easy to quit#I’d have to tell my mom an excuse as to why I want another therapist#and looking for a new therapist is just nightmare#I’m just tired. really wish I could think about killing myself more in depth without feeling guilty#thinking about how my mom’s life would be shattered and all the pain I’d cause her gives me goosebumps. it breaks my heart
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soysaucevictim · 2 years ago
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My brain was thinking about sensory processing stuff again with that last post.
That might be one of the many reasons Gymrat!Logan hits the gym - mitigate some modest dyspraxia / proprioceptive dysfunction related to being autistic.
Because physical exercise/therapy is a known modality that can help build those skills. Obviously - it's a treatment not necessarily a cure in moderate-to-severe cases.
I feel like some of Jan's caseload are for ND folks like that (on top of pain/mobility/etc. management ones). :Ic
(Maybe a reason for why Lo isn't the hardware guy at the tech firm. Amusing how Remus is - since he might be a bit twitchy from too much caffeine and not enough sleep more often than not.)
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everyone-sacritic · 10 months ago
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A love letter to strangers:
-To the cashier at the gas station/convenience store that I stop at a couple times a week on my way home from work; who always has the biggest smile and an infectious laugh; who shares my love of trying all kinds of new random snacks, even when we think they're going to be bad; who last year when I was having a hard time, must have seen something in my eyes that made her grab my hand after I paid and tell me with the first serious look on her face I'd ever seen to take care of myself, the winked and said she had something special coming in the next week and to make sure to come back and see her
-To the park ranger at the state park where I camp and hike a couple weekends a month; who always calls me "honey" or "sweetie" in the twangiest accent I've ever heard (and I'm from the South); who always tells me to be safe and enjoy the woods for her; whose eyes light up with the most true display of joy when I compliment her nails that she paints herself every week; who once during a freak cold snap with an unexpected inbound ice storm, stopped by my campsite in the evening with a cup of hot chocolate and an extra wool blanket, saying that she had to look after her regulars so we could save her from the tourists in the summertime
-To the owner of the Korean restaurant/cafe that I eat dinner and drink tea once a week; who lets me stay and work on my homework while I drink tea but only because she says I take my tea the same way she does, so we're "some kind of soulmates"; who argues with me about the tip that I give, but grudgingly accepts it in the end every time; who when I missed a couple weeks in a row when I was really sick, cupped my cheek when I sat down at my table and refused to give me my normal order, instead giving me a lovely soup and sending me home early with a bag of loose tea leaves and instructions on how to brew them to build back up my immunity; who sometimes when it's slow sits at my table with her back against the wall, watching the front door and humming quietly and out of tune to the kpop music in the background
I madly love all of you more than you could ever know. You provide me with the small connections to this world that keep me going.
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anarkhebringer · 1 year ago
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I had a nap earlier and have been thinking about how the end of my therapy session ended earlier, and man. I AM gonna give this guy a run for his money.
I even gave a psychiatrist who thought he was all-knowing a run for his money and he said to my face that if he were to train new arrivals to the mental health scene, he'd use ME as their "test run" of having a patient. He said I made him "want chicken soup for his soul".
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wistfulenchantress · 8 months ago
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completed.
EDIT: this has now, as of this edit, reached over 2,000 notes. And I have started doing the things. My life is still far from perfect, but I genuinely do scroll through all the replies and reblogs and watch people get other people to help and reassure me and check on me and it makes me feel so much more loved than i normally do. i'm even going to bed earlier because you said i should. i love all of you so much, and i owe you 2,053 times. all my love, witch.
ORIGINAL POST:
ok here goes. i haven't taken enough care of myself recently. so here we go
if this reaches 100 notes i will start doing yoga again, to help with my anxiety COMPLETE (how you guys are insane)
if this reaches 200 notes i'll start studying more and putting in more effort COMPLETE (o my gosh)
if it reaches 500 i will actually try my best to exercise for the right reasons, instead of random bursts of self-hatred/body hatred COMPLETE (i posted this yesterday evening)
if this reaches 700 notes i will try my absolute best to fix my sleep schedule COMPLETE (ok this is insane)
if this reaches 1000 notes i will be more honest with my therapist COMPLETE (dammit you guys ilysm but this is gonna be hard)
if this reaches 2300 notes i will be more honest with myself about why i am turning to tumblr for this kind of thing and write a poem about it. (this one is a joke since i think 5000 is impossible, and i will write a poem for you guys anyway. i love you) (i’ve now changed this to a more reasonable goal - one really close to what i have now - because honestly i want you guys to succeed because the fact that people are still on this post is insane and it makes me smile.) AND COMPLETE! (i love every person who interacted with this post so much it isn’t even funny. all my gratitude and adoration, witch)
this ends at the beginning of may. you can spam i guess i have 35 followers it prob wont even reach 100. but go ahead, tumblr, do your thing. lol
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doctor-wombat · 1 year ago
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hartlow · 2 years ago
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pt guy was there; usually he just puts the heat stickers on my back and i don't see him again, but, today, he was the one who called me in, AND put the heat on, AND helped me with my exercises, and i was natural the whole time!!! i did not embarrass myself this time girls!!! also he told me he's off on tuesdays and thursdays so if my rizz tank runs out i at least know how to avoid him now
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permanentlyfemale · 2 months ago
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⚠️ Feminization, Misgendering, Forced detrans kink ahead! ⚠️
Today is a scary day for you. As a trans man, finding the right therapist is far more difficult than it is for most people, especially as you weren’t looking for just a new therapist today. You also need someone to write you a top surgery letter. Although you’ve only been on T for 2 months, barely enough to notice anything besides an increased libido and clit growth, your breasts are by far your biggest source of dysphoria. You often wear two binders when you’re going anywhere, and even then, a sizable bump is visible on your chest. You’re hoping they may become easier to bind with hormones, but you already know that you’ll need surgery regardless.
“Milo Brown?” A masculine voice calls your name from across the room. Glancing up, you see a very attractive man, much taller than you, looking to be in good shape under his professional attire, but not overly muscular. His dark shoulder-length wavy hair and stubble complement his gentle, masculine face and warm brown eyes.
Surprised by the man’s beauty, you stumble on your words as you rise from your seat. “I- uh- I’m here.”
“Great! Let’s get back to my office.” He smiles warmly and gestures for you to follow him out of the waiting room and down a hallway, passing mostly empty offices on the way. This doesn’t seem too odd, as there was construction on the lower floor. Maybe some patients didn’t like the noise and cancelled? Or maybe you’re trying to distract yourself from thinking of the exceedingly attractive man that may soon be your therapist. You’ve considered yourself gay since coming out, but starting hormones has certainly made that attraction all the more apparent.
As he opens his office door, you’re surprised by how casual it is. There’s a long couch next to an armchair, with a clipboard set neatly on top. His desk is to the side, seemingly ignored while clients were present in favor of a more personal layout. Thinking of something to say as you sat on the couch, you spit out “I like your office.”
“Thank you Milo, I spent a lot of time thinking of the anatomy of the room and how to make my clients most at ease. I find this works best.” He smiles at you, his eyes gentle and enticing. “I’m Dr. Sterling, I specialize in support for LGBT and FTM clients. Nice to meet you! Tell me a but about yourself and what brings you here.”
“My name is Milo Brown, I’m 19 years old, and I just started testosterone. I’ve been out as trans for a while but finally got access to hormones and I’m hoping to get top surgery as well, but I need a letter for it. I also just need support with my dysphoria and depression.” You cross your arms over your large chest self-consciously.
“Well, that’s nothing I haven’t heard before. Can you tell me more about your dysphoria regarding your chest?”
Shifting uncomfortably in your chair, you hesitantly proceed. “Every day is awful! They’re the first thing I think about when I wake up and I go to sleep trying not to feel or think about them. They’re so big and heavy that I feel them whenever I move and it makes me so dysphoric. It’s also impossible to make myself flat, so I never pass. As a gay man, it’s so hard to find a man who would want a guy with a body like mine!”
“Oh, Milo, I think that’s very negative thinking. Plenty of men would find you attractive! I thought you were quite beautiful when I saw you myself.”
You’re surprised by his words! That sounded very flirtatious, but maybe he was just trying to boost your ego. Either way, it made the empty space between your legs tingle when he said it. You also didn’t know he was queer, but it definitely makes you more comfortable with him. “Well… that does make me feel better. I still don’t feel comfortable with my chest though.”
“Why don’t we try something? This is an exercise I’ve done with plenty of my transmasuline patients before, and it has always improved their lives and helped with dysphoria. While we do it, I can assess you for top surgery as well! How does that sound?” He smiled at you expectingly.
“Uhhh… yeah, that sounds good. What are we doing?”
“I’m just going to have you answer some questions about your body and dysphoria. This may get uncomfortable, but it’s all part of this process. I’m sure you can trust me, right?”
“Of course!” You answer instinctively.
“Right. First, I want you to take off your shirt and binder.” He instructs casually.
“What!? I thought we were just answering questions. Is that necessary?” You’re again surprised, he wasn’t a surgeon and you had never shown anyone your chest before. You didn’t want to look at it yourself, much less this beautiful man you’re expecting to see regularly!
“I understand this is surprising and uncomfortable, but I want to understand your perspective on your body, as well as assess the size and density for surgery. I need to know this for the letter, and I understand this is very important to you. I’m sorry for the discomfort, Milo.” He looked at you apologetically, his brown eyes sparkling, staring in to your soul and shooting down between your legs.
“I… okay.” What he was saying did make sense, and you would do most anything for this surgery. Resolving to just get this over with, you take off your oversized hoodie and throw it on the couch next to you. Grabbing both binders at once, you exert a herculean force squeezing yourself out, panting as your huge breasts fly out. You blush with embarrassment as a loud clap can be heard from them swinging together.
Dr. Sterling calmly walks closer to you. “Do you know your cup size?”
“Uh… no, sorry.”
“That’s alright, we can measure now.” He smiles warmly and pulls out some measuring tape. Without hesitation, he walks up to you and wraps it around your chest! He first measures your underbust before moving to measure your bust. His hands rest on your breasts as he does so. “Alright… looks like you have J cups.” His hand brushes your nipple as he backs away.
“Mmph!” Involuntarily, you let out a short, feminine moan. Both the dysphoria of knowing your overwhelming cup size and your accidental vocalization leave you embarrassed and blushing harder than ever.
“It doesn’t seem like you’ve experienced any vocal changes from testosterone.” He observes.
“Umm… not yet, no.”
“It also seems like you have quite sensitive nipples?”
“I guess…”
“Well, have you ever considered embracing your breasts?”
“Huh?” You were confused. They made you sad and dysphoric, how could you ever embrace them? He did say whatever he was doing worked for all of his other transmasc patients, but this seemed absurd.
“Your breast are way too big to bind properly. I’ve seen you wearing two binders in here, and that is not healthy. As your therapist, I can’t encourage you to damage your body in such a way, and especially without two binders, you wouldn’t be able to hide them at all anyways. And why go through the trouble of binding if everyone can tell? It might do you some good to just accept your body as it is. It’s not like whether you bind now will affect surgery.”
Unfortunately, everything he was saying made perfect sense. Even when binding, it was very obvious you had breasts. Why go through all the trouble, especially if it was hurting your body? You were dysphoric either way, might as well be more comfortable physically. “I guess… I guess you’re right.”
“Yes… unfortunately it’s also not very possible hormones could reduce them to a bindable size either.”
This devastated you. Even later on testosterone, you would have obvious breasts? How could you expect anyone to take you seriously as a man? You had hoped to begin passing in public soon, and finally begin living comfortably, but you weren’t so sure now. Would it even be safe to live as a non-passing trans man? Why were you going through so much for hormones if there was no hope of passing before surgery anyways? Maybe you should just wait until then for hormones- no one will gender you right as you are now. “Maybe… maybe I should pause testosterone until surgery then.”
“Yes, I can see why. That might be the safest option for you.” He nodded solemnly. “We can practice some exercises to reduce dysphoria until then, if you’d like.” His frown shifted in to a comforting smile.
Still upset, you nodded.
He moved closer and, before you could react, placed one hand on each perky, round breast, grabbing you by the boobs.
Surprised, you squeaked.
“This is just to get you used to your breasts. It often helps most when someone else does it, so you’re more comfortable with other people seeing them.” He gently squeezed and pulled, running his fingers along your supple breasts, warm palms pressing your hard nipples.
“Mmmmmm-! Oooh!” You let out a series of feminine wails as the doctor palms at your breasts. They were so sensitive and they felt so heavy- so wrong on your body- and yet they sent waves of pleasure throughout your curvy figure.
“Are you still going to go by Milo? I mean, you’re stopping T until surgery because you won’t be able to pass. It would be weird to only keep the name and pronouns, especially for strangers.” His hands shifted to thumb at your nipples.
Your thoughts were flooded with waves of pleasure shooting from your tits. The importance of this decision didn’t fully register, but what he was saying made sense to you. “You’re right.”
“Good girl.”
“Huhh…”
“People are going to refer to you by what you look like. You know you don’t pass. This is just exposure training, okay?”
“Okay…” You mindlessly agree as he moves his head close to your breast.
“See? You are a good girl.” He starts to suck on your nipple, causing you to throw your head back and wail in pleasure. You don’t know when his own clothes came off, but he’s getting on top of you and pulling your pants off, leaving you in just your boxers with his much larger biologically male body pinning you down, suddenly kissing your lips.
“What… what are you doing now, d-doctor…” he cuts you off as you pant your words out.
“The easiest way to adapt to and accept being seen as a woman is to have sex with a straight man, one who can use you as only male can use female. You need this, Amelia. It’s okay.”
Hearing your deadname makes you cringe with dysphoria. You’ve always felt an aversion towards it, despising the femininity it signaled. You struggle to reconcile your attraction to the doctor and trust in his methods to your current panic. This all felt good and sounded logical but it’s happening too fast to react, and these are all such big decisions, and suddenly he’s pulling your boxers off.
“Your pussy is so perfect. You make such a sexy woman.” He rubs the length of his cock along your clit and hole. The distinction between your pathetic nub and his masculine length is obvious. He gropes your massive jiggling breasts, squeezing them together and lowering his head to kiss and suck your nipples as his dick prods your entrance.
“Doctor Sterling…” You moan his name as his assault on your tits grows heavier. He sloppily makes out with your huge boobs, enjoying every second he can get drowning in your massive breasts.
He momentarily pulls his mouth from your tits. “Yes… fuck, Amelia!” He rams his hard cock all the way inside you, hitting your cervix as he moans your deadname, resuming his assault on your massive wobbling boobs all the while.
You scream and wail, unsure if it’s in pleasure or some mix of dysphoria and grief for your lost ambitions. Whatever male identity you insisted on was currently obstructed by your massive tits and the straight man enjoying them as he pounded in to your soft, tight vagina. Anyone who saw you two would know immediately that this was heterosexual sex- they would never stop to consider you could be anything but a curvy woman being held down and fucked by a handsome man. Suddenly, the doctor’s thrusts sped up. You forgot condoms, and you’re barely on T!
Right as you open your mouth, he interrupts. “I’m gonna cum, Amelia! I’m cumming inside you!” He holds himself against your cervix, comforting you as you begin to scream. “Shhh, good girl, it’s okay.”
You feel his hot cum flood in to your unprotected pussy, tears falling from your eyes. Feeling the sticky cum start to leak out, you manage to speak. “Do… do you have a towel?”
“Uhhh… here!” He grabs your binders and rips them both, turning them in to makeshift towels as he pulls out, along with a flood of cum.
You know you said you wouldn’t bind anymore, but having the option taken away made everything all the more real. You know it was for the best tho. He specializes in helping trans men, and he said this always works. You just have to trust him! As time runs out, you don’t even realize you forgot to finish your top surgery letter.
Still… you couldn’t wait to book your next session.
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