#and i feel like i should bring it up because i hate just self-diagnosing

[nyarlathotep-thecrawlingchaos]

I am so happy you're back and seem to be doing even a little bit better! We missed you!

I wanted to send a little message, so you can ignore it if it sours your mood or you don't feel like dealing with it, feel no pressure at all! It's just this blog has been a safe space and the community has been so welcoming that I figured I could vent really quick

You know when sometimes the brain just has a really shitty day, like when you draw something and it screams at you that it's trash even though there's nothing wrong with it? I've been having a rough time with it deciding to scream that comfort characters would cheat, probably as an 'You are so unlovable not even fictional characters would be loyal' bullshit. Now, logically, I know this makes -67 sense. But, I was wondering if you could just reassure that like, Sanji, Mihawk, Buggy, Shanks, Crocodile, Blablablablabla long list of One Piece characters you write for, would not cheat? I'm sorry, this sounds lame to even write out but I'm trying to get my brain to stop thinking that asking for help is 'pathetic' because it is not and it only applies that logic to me, never to anyone else.

I dunno man. Brains and bring human ate both though af.

I missed all of you as well. Really and sincerely. I have a tendency to go radio silent when I'm going through a difficult time and I hate it immensely, but hearing that I was missed to makes me all

And yes, oh gods, I know. My brain is frequently my worst enemy. Especially when I'm not writing. My anxiety starts working overtime and my creative drive becomes dedicated to coming up with problems that could potentially happen for me to worry about even more and it's an absolute bitch; or even when I am actively creating and a little voice insists that everything I make is stupid garbage.

This is still very much and always will be a safe space. It definitely is awful to feel that unworthy of love. Full disclosure, I've mentioned in passing before that I've been diagnosed with schizoaffective disorder depressive type. My main issue is auditory hallucinations that like to insist that everyone I love and care about only tolerate me out of pity and secretly would rather I not be around, which leads to me isolating myself from people. Huge part of the reason I go silent when life decides to be a bitch. I know it's just as bad feeling that way about comfort characters, if not even worse, when we're supposed to have them to help us get through that kind of bullshit.

So let me provide a little drabble for the one comfort character I’m certain wouldn’t ever allow us to continue being so silly about our worthiness of love and affection, because we’re all worthy of such a basic human need. I may do more later, but one in particular jumped at the opportunity to provide this comfort, and I fear he may counter me with his dreaded puppy-dog-eyes should I even dare attempt to wait.

Good Enough

OPLA!Sanji x AFAB!Reader

Lil drabble thingy

SFW, Hurt/Comfort

Possible TRIGGER WARNINGS for depression, insecurity, self-worth

♫♬ Moonshine ♬♫ — The Fratellis (yes I’m STILL on my Fratellis BS leave me be)

"Never knowing is the most evil feeling, when every answer here is none too appealing"

Sanji had always been a flirt. You knew that from the moment you started working on the wait staff at Baratie. Your trust issues had made it a little difficult for you to open up around the young sous chef (and occasional waiter on the frequent occasion that Zeff kicked him out of the kitchen for insubordination), but it was his outgoing nature and perseverance that had ultimately won you over. He had a way of making you feel like you were the only girl in the world when you were together, doting upon you, all but worshipping the ground you walked on.

But when he was sent out to work the dining area, it always made you nervous. His innate charm, his handsome features—he was nearly always a hit with female customers. No matter how much you told yourself that he was only doing his job, there was always a nagging feeling that maybe there was more to it than that. Watching him interact with a table of pretty young women, who by their clothing and demeanor were obviously far more affluent and sophisticated than you, left you distracted in your own work.

Seeing how they giggled at everything he said, how they fluttered their eyelashes when he brought them their drinks.

How the pretty blonde at the table leaned so close to him while he pointed to something on the menu, close enough to brush her hand across his.

You managed to spill a tray of drinks all over yourself while you were watching, leading to a scolding from the front of house manager. You saw the table of girls from the corner of your eye, giggling at your clumsiness before you were sent off to clean yourself up and change your uniform.

No matter how much you told yourself you were being silly, there was nothing you could do to shake it. The doubts, the thoughts of how easily he could find someone better than you. You had your jaw clenched the entire time you were changing your shirt in the staff restroom, tossing the soiled one aside as you leaned against the sink in front of the mirror and forced yourself to take slow, level breaths.

You were still on the clock. You couldn’t break down. You had to get changed, had to get back to work, had to pretend everything was fine, if he found out you were being so stupid about this then he would definitely drop you like a bad habit, you had to compose yourself or—

Knock knock.

Your eyes darted to the bathroom door, your breath catching in your throat at the sound of the light knock.

“J—just a minute,” you forced out, flinching at the sound of your own voice breaking a little.

Stupid, you’re being stupid, stop it stop it stop it—

A brief silence followed your answer, a silence that seemed to stretch on for miles despite lasting only a few seconds. The familiar, gentle voice that answered after a moment made your hands clench around the porcelain of the sink.

“You alright, love?” You drew in a sharp breath, swallowing, clenching your eyes shut. Of course it was Sanji. You had almost hoped that the manager had come scold you for taking too long. That would have been easier to deal with right now. Your eyes darted to the locked doorknob as it rattled a little. “I heard—”

“I’m fine,” you said immediately, the strained quality of your own words as they met your ears making your hands tighten a little more on the edge of the sink. “I—I just tripped and spilled a few drinks, I’ll be out in a minute.”

“Are you sure you’re alright?” You gritted your teeth, laying your head back to stare up at the ceiling. Of course he wouldn’t let it go that easily. The doorknob rattled a little again, and you glanced at it as if it were a viper poised to strike out at you at any second.

Stupid, you’re being stupid, don’t—

“You sound—”

You reached out and turned the lock on the doorknob, and turned away from the door, crossing your arms over your half-buttoned shirt and stared down at your feet. After a long moment, you heard the door open behind you.

Evidently you didn’t look any less distressed than you felt. His quiet sigh met your ear as the door shut lightly and the lock turned. “Oh, love, it’s fine,” he said gently, his footfalls echoing quietly in the small bathroom, closing the short distance across the tile floor between the two of you. Your whole body tensed as he wrapped his arms around your waist from behind, resting his forehead over the crown of your hair with a quiet chuckle. “It’s only a few drinks, it could happen to anyone.”

You shook your head, your shoulders shaking a little. Stupid, it was so stupid, but the words were already leaving your mouth before you could stop them. “Oh, yeah, anyone.” You couldn’t stop. You couldn’t. He had a way of pulling all your insecurities to the surface that no one else did. You pulled your crossed arms tighter, staring down at the white floor tiles for a moment before shutting your eyes tightly, your voice shaking a little. “Especially a dumb screw-up like me—”

“Don’t do that.” His tone came out a little sharper with this, and your breath hitched audibly in your throat this time, your shoulders hunching as you clenched your eyes shut tighter, swallowing back the lump in your throat. As if to counter your stiff posture, he pulled his arms tighter around your waist, pulling you closer, his thumb rubbing lightly against your waist in a comforting manner. “Don’t, sweetheart. Please.”

The warmth of his embrace already had you relaxing a little. Your shoulders slumped, your body leaning back against him, but your eyes were still burning when you opened them to stare down at the toes of your shoes.

“Was it the manager?” he asked gently, shifting behind you to rest his chin on your shoulder. “If he was being an ass I’ll gladly kick his ass off the docks.” Your breath left your lungs in a slow, trembling sigh as you shook your head no, your gaze drifting down to his hand at your hip, still rubbing lightly against you, your lips curling into a fleeting smile at his offer. You knew you were being stupid, but… “Then what’s wrong, love?” he asked, his voice a soft, comforting murmur in your ear.

“I…” You drew in a deep breath, closing your eyes as he tilted his head so his cheek lay against your shoulder. “Y—you—“

You swallowed against the lump forming in your throat, drawing in a deep breath, trying and failing to steady the whirlwind of thoughts swirling through your mind, thoughts of how maybe this was all a lie, of how you weren’t anything more than a silly little fling to him, how you weren’t good enough, how easily you could be replaced.

You bit your lip, glancing down as his hand found yours, watching his fingers lace between your own…and the breath left you in a slow, resigned sigh.

“It’s stupid,” you said quietly.

“If it’s got you this upset, then it’s anything but stupid,” he countered, and you had to purse your lips tightly to keep them from curving into a small smile as you felt his press briefly against your cheek in a soft kiss. “And if it’s something I’ve done—”

“N—no, you haven’t—” But how quickly you shook your head, how your shoulders tensed, betrayed your worries. “I…I just…” You slowly relaxed once more as he squeezed you against him, his cheek nuzzling against your shoulder, his soft blonde hair tickling against your neck. Still unable to turn your head to meet his eyes, you bit the bullet and forced yourself to voice your worries. “You have beautiful women making goo-goo eyes at you all day,” you said, keeping your voice low in an attempt to keep it steady. “I—I don’t—I’m not—” You bit your lip, your heart racing as you clenched your eyes shut, cursing yourself internally as you felt the tickle of a tear leaving your eye to trail down one of your cheeks. “Y-you could have any girl you wanted. L—like that blonde that was hanging all over you while you were showing her the menu, or—or—”

“Oh, sweetheart…” You weren’t quite able to mask the small sob that hitched in your chest as Sanji loosened his embrace—only to gently place a hand on your hip, guiding you to turn around and face him, to pull you against his chest as you tried and failed to fight back tears. He gently shushed your quiet sobs and stammered apologies as he wrapped his arms around you fully, combing his fingers through your hair as he laid his head over yours. Your eyes remained clenched shut as you fought to control your breathing , as he pressed a tender, lingering kiss to your forehead.

Sanji lowered his head and nuzzled into your hair, holding you flush against him.

“I already have the girl I want. The perfect girl.” He pressed another tender kiss to your temple, murmuring against your skin, “I have her right here in my arms. And I hope,” he said, his tone turning a little playful as he shifted to rest his forehead against yours, “that I’ll still have her tonight after dinner shift is over.” He brushed your hair behind your ear, smiling as he tilted his head to meet your gaze, puling a small smile to your lips as your cheeks grew a little warmer. “So we can cuddle up together on the balcony…watch the stars…laugh at all the drunk idiots stumbling back to their boats…”

You could practically hear him smiling as a few soft giggles escaped you, as you finally leaned fully against him and returned his embrace, your arms wrapping around his torso as you buried your face against his chest.

“I’m sorry,” you sighed, relaxing against him. “I…I’m just…”

“I know, love.” The way he called you ‘love’ all but melted your heart now that you were calmed down, pulling a faint smile to your lips. “I know. You don’t have anything to be sorry for. And if it’s any consolation, I was in the middle of telling that self-righteous blonde bimbo how my sweet, adorable, beautiful girlfriend would wring her neck if she kept putting her hands on me—“ He chuckled as you whined in protest of his praise, tugging you closer and grinning, meeting your eyes without hesitation.

He lifted his hand to your face, his thumb brushing across your cheek, the warmth of his gaze holding yours.

“I—“

KNOCK KNOCK KNOCK.

You both jolted in alarm, your heads turning in unison toward the sound of the pounding on the bathroom door. Before you could so much as glance at each other, a gruff voice spoke up from behind the door.

“We’re in the weeds, Eggplant!” Zeff called . “Get your scrawny ass to the kitchen! And bring your damned girlfriend, we need all the help we can get.”

A long moment of silence stretched between the two of you as you both stared at the closed bathroom door, before your gazes drifted slowly toward each other.

Before you were both giggling under your breath, as you buried your forehead against his chest, a broad smile spreading across your lips as you clung to him.

“I suppose we’ve been summoned,” said Sanji, pulling back from you only enough to gaze down at you, still smiling. “Shall we, then?”

[trashogram]

i’m gonna hop on the stolas hate train with you for a second. Do you know what i feel like he doesn’t get enough lashings for? His inability to see things from Blitzo’s point of view.

I’m sorry but despite being horrendously bad he is simultaneously one of most self absorbed characters ever. If he really loved Blitz to an up to par standard he’d be able to understand the HUGE power imbalance between them regardless of their feelings or time spent together. (might be a spoiler but i feel like you’ve seen it by now) but Blitz out burst to Stolas was super justified , i wouldn’t have done it personally, but i see where he’s coming from.

That moment itself was a rare vulnerable!blitz moment that stolas could’ve used to mend their relationship but instead he made it about Him AGAIN I CANT DO THIS😭😭😭 THEY SUCKKKK GOOD LORDD

I’m here to conduct this hate train, you’re more than welcome to come aboard.

Stolas has the characteristics of a Covert Narcissist (obviously he’s fictional, I can’t diagnose a fictional character or real person, but let’s tally it up shall we?):

Lack of Empathy — You hit that one

Sense of Entitlement — he thinks he’s entitled to Blitzø’s time and body, as well as Octavia’s unending patience and understanding when he fucks up and fucks around on her and their family)

Taking advantage of others for personal gain — the whole deal with the fuckdamn Grimoire

Hyper-focusing on fantasies of grandeur — Stolas is King Delusion thinking his obsession with Blitzø is at all equivalent to love, or even liking someone. He also deludes himself into thinking he knows his own child but he ignores her wants when she literally runs away from him on two separate occasions bc he’s not fucking listening to her.

Exhibit passive-aggressive behavior, arrogance, or subtle superiority — Ppl don’t clock this as much as they should but I’ve noticed and gagged at his belittling “pet names” for Blitzø (impish little plaything, itty bitty imp) and how when Moxxie and Millie try to speak to him, Stolas either treats them with disdain/like peasants or doesn’t even look at them when they speak! Not even bringing up how he uses his own imp staff as stress-relieving toys.

Highly sensitive to criticism — Can’t take being called out, has to cry and run away from the truth that Blitzø (and Stella and Octavia) are spitting

Victim Mentality — it’s everyone else in this damn bird’s life that’s to blame instead of himself. “I think so highly of you, I didn’t realize you thought so low of me.”

Fuck. You. Stolas.

I’m sorry this is a wild rant but to be fair it is the Stolas Hate Train (SHT, we should implement an I in there). Obviously I don’t hate his fans. Like what you like. Please. However, I may have some concerns over how young HB fans can get and how they don’t truly see how terribly this character is written because they accept the framing of Stolas as the poor victim in this situation at face value and don’t see it for what it really is, but I’m not their parents. And hopefully the younger audience will grow up and also think “ew”. At the very least.

I would like to know if the HB writers, and her majesty Vivienne Medrano, realize that they’re framing the Abuser in this situation as the victim but have dug this hole so deep that they just have to keep digging bc there’s no going back or if they genuinely think their targeted audience of adults don’t see through this or haven’t had to deal with abusive relationships themselves.

[mbti-notes]

INFP 16. I love (and also really really hate) what you said about lack of objectivity. After reading about Si loop and pessimism, I'm more aware and try to balance with affirming thoughts. Do you think it helps body dysmorphia too? I'm not diagnosed or anything, I just really hate how I look sometimes. I used to think my judgements were right because of "fact" (like there's a line/mark/bulge to point at) but it's just another thing I get too negative about?

The notion of beauty standards is complicated, so you can read what I've written about it before. Suffice it to say that very few judgments regarding beauty should be considered "objective". You only need to study a bit of history to realize that beauty standards vary widely based on time and place, which reveals a social construct.

As an individual, your idea of beauty is very heavily influenced by the culture and society you live in. I always bring up the story of The Ugly Duckling to illustrate in simple terms what it means to have your perception (of beauty) twisted by society.

You see a line/mark/bulge and think ew gross, others might see something else. One person sees an ugly mole, another person flaunts it as a beauty mark. Your way of looking at it isn't the only valid way, so if your way always suspiciously turns toward the negative, then, yes, maybe you need to rebalance your perspective. Or, there might be a deeper self-esteem issue that needs addressing (especially as it relates to Te grip).

Body dysmorphia can feel like a vicious cycle: You feel bad about yourself for whatever reason, and then you start picking out the stuff in the mirror you don't like seeing, and then you feel even worse about yourself, and then you pick yourself apart even more harshly...

There are a variety of ways to recalibrate your perspective. If you're too negative or critical, then, yes, you can remind yourself to look for the good things you like. For example, you might not like this characteristic of your body, but that other aspect is awesome, so why only focus on the negative? It's unreasonable to expect perfection.

Another method of recalibrating your perspective is to broaden or deepen it:

Example of broadening:

People young and old have written to me about feeling aging anxiety every time they look in the mirror and see a line or a gray hair. But when I look at my parents and aunts and uncles getting older, I don't see them "aging" per se. I see them growing into their skin. I see the evidence of a full life written on their body, and I think it's beautiful and wonderful that they've made it so far in life. Average life expectancy in 1900 was 47, so humans have come a long way!

As I witness myself getting older every birthday, I'm a bit critical if I'm honest, but I quickly adjust my attitude. Instead of fixating on this or that detail, I look at myself and reflect on how extremely fortunate I am to be in good health because I have access to health care, healthy food, and my life isn't so stressful that I can't sleep well at night.

Taking "the grand scheme of things" as your perspective, lines/marks/bulges don't mean much. What matters more? What matters most? If you don't want to live in a society that only values people for their looks, then the change should begin with yourself first and foremost.

Example of deepening:

The way you look is largely determined by genetics, and looks will fade with age. Should you take credit for accidents of nature? Well, if you're going to feel good about yourself through others praising your genes as beautiful, the flip side is that you doom yourself to feeling bad when people don't.

From this perspective, the better approach is to have a deeper understanding of self-worth and how it should NOT be tied to things that have no real meaning, or things beyond your control that you shouldn't be faulted for.

Sure, it's a fact that people who are considered beautiful might have more doors opened to them, but it is also a fact that being a good person is likely to bring you many meaningful rewards in the long run. When people like you mainly for your looks, what happens when you inevitably lose them? When people love you for who you really are at heart... now that's gold. Why settle for less?

.

Adjusting your perspective (aka cognitive reframing) isn't about lying to yourself but, rather, acknowledging that your thinking is flawed and needs correction or improvement. It is a tried-and-true way of mitigating excess negativity. And it should be relatively easy to do for anyone with a healthy N function. How's your Ne?

[amykiriwosdefenselawyer]

Chapter 325 thoughts (Spoilers!)

First off, Baal deserves every minute of stress from Shura. :D

This panel is interesting because Return to Origins is supposed to be a "permanent wicked phase" and Baal is already RtO. Then again, I don't feel like that description should be taken at full face value, because it's not like our RtO gang are constantly stressed out or pissed off and going on rampages, they're just evil with bad morals.

So I guess it's an evil demonic equivalent of someone like being diagnosed with depression or a personality disorder or something and it affects all facets of their life and personality, but of course they'll have times where it's triggered worse, like depressive/manic episodes or panic attacks etc.

After all, wicked phases make a demon lose all sense of inhibition and self-preservation, and Baal needs to be strategic and tactical, so he can't have that

Nice detail with Kiriwo's eyes being RtO though!

Plus the fact he really doesn't discriminate with who he likes seeing in pain 😭

Next up. Poro-chan. Poro is genderfluid because I said so, and based advice.

Next, ATORI I MISSED YOUR GRIN SO MUCH ahhhhhhhh also nice shirt and tank top (I wanna see him without the former and just the latter (time to draw that then))

Ocho is back! I used to hate him and then grow indifferent towards him but he's funny in my book now

Also what the hell is that height difference? Atori is 192cm and Kiriwo is 162cm but that does NOT look like a ruler's difference but then again this is the Netherworld and logic doesn't exist probably

I wanna climb Atori like a tree

Oh they are so silly I will cry of joy they are such lovable fools I was screaming at this scene for minutes straight and also Poro is based again

I forgot Ocho was part of that Number 2 cult, thank you Nishi

This brings me immense fucking joy to my dead ass heart 😭😭😭😭💖💖💖🥺🥺🥺🥺 Look at them, the three musketeers who dirty Baal's floor

Also did Atori retract his tail? Huh, nice

It's funny how it was fanon that Ocho and Kiriwo hated each other from the post-Harvest Festival scene but yeah turns out Kiriwo was just being a little possessive and they're all so silly

I wanna be friends with them now aaaahh maybe we'll see the other Six Fingers maybe they'll have silly little evil villain sleepover parties or something

Baal needs more mental breakdowns over Shura. He deserves it

Very good chapter, I am fed

[hughiecampbelle]

Succession Preference: Having a Partner With Bipolar Disorder

A/N: I have Bipolar II, so I can only write from my own experience and what I do to cope. I wrote a Peaky Blinders request similar to this, too ages ago. Know that I'm not trying to glamorize or romanticize anything. I just have a really hard time seeing myself be in a relationship with anyone because of this disorder and I fear no one will love me or someone like me because of all this 😅 I just want this to be sweet for anyone going through the same things I do! 💜💜💜

Connor has no idea what you're talking about. You seem fine, right? It's only when you finally break down, exhausted from keeping up the facade, do you tell him that you have Bipolar Disorder. He's heard of it of course, but not in the terms you're thinking of. In jokes about his dad being "so bipolar", about the weather being "so bipolar", but not like this. He sits you down, hating that you thought you needed to hide this from him, that you were using every last bit of your energy and focus to keep yourself together. You weren't even doing a very good job, you thought, canceling your last date because you couldn't leave your house. He asks a lot of clarifying questions, needing to understand what it is, why you have it, how long you've had it. It runs in your family, and you've had it for a long time. You're managing things with medications and therapy, but it doesn't stop these episodes from happening, not completely. The next question he asks brings tears to your eyes: how can I help? No one's ever asked that. They dismiss you, saying you don't have it because you're not explaining your entire history, your every thought, to them. Or they shake their heads/roll their eyes, not wanting to hear or care about it, like you should stop talking about it. Connor wants to be there through everything, even the hard parts. He's not giving up on you or your relationship like you feared. He cares about you, every part of you, and nothing will ever change that. He assures you, nothing.

Kendall isn't sure what to say besides okay. He knows you're in therapy, that you take meds at night, but he doesn't really give it a second thought. Not until he finds you standing in the scalding shower, date night clothes on and soaking wet, does he start asking questions. You can't answer, give a coherent one at least. Your skin won't stop crawling and this is the only way to make it better. It's the only way to regulate without doing something self-destructive. You stand there for as long as you need. It's not until a few days later that you tell him you have Bipolar Disorder. Okay. That you're beginning to feel manic. Okay. That you can go through periods of mania and depression. Okay. That the hot water helps. Okay. That you're not a danger to anyone else or yourself. Okay. That you're in therapy, that you're taking your meds, that if he doesn't want to be with you anymore you'd understand. That knocks the wind out of him. What? That's not at all what he wants to do. You know that he's not understanding the full weight of your words, that he's only seen you hypo/manic, the fun, bubbly, lively you. He hasn't seen you depressed, he hasn't seen you crash like you will soon. You ask him to take a break, until you're back to stable. He asks how long that will be. You're not sure. After about a week he shows up at your doorstep, unable to be without you. You still remain careful, explaining everything to him, making sure he knows what he's getting into. You're still not convinced despite the years you've been together. Kendall isn't worried. He'll be with you through it all. Everything.

Shiv I love shiv she's so pretty knows quite a bit about it. She took a psych class in college hoping to diagnose a few family members. She understands the basics, the two ends of the spectrum, but she's never met anyone with it. At least, that she knows of. She finds out about it the first night you sleep over at her house. You think you're being quiet with the pill bottles, but she's quieter, making you jump as she appears out of nowhere. You say they're for sleep, but she knows better. You try to shrug it off like it's nothing, but she wants to talk about it. You can't meet her eyes when you explain everything. The reason she's never been to your place is because you've been depressed lately and it's a mess and it's taking everything out of you just to show up to work. She holds your hand through all this, playing with your fingers, a sign that she's worried. You think you've ruined it all. She must hate you for deceiving you like this. Instead she grabs her bag and walks you to the car. From there you go to your apartment where she starts cleaning. You're so embarrassed at the state of things, but she doesn't seem to mind. She never wants to hear your voice crack like that again, she never wants you to be so full of guilt and shame like that again. You'll figure it out together, you will, she promises you. She'll help you every step of the way.

Roman at first makes a joke about it. You knew he would. He's seen you at your lowest, he's seen your scars, he's heard all the horror stories. You're not trying to scare him away with this, you just need him to know that sometimes things can get very bad and he needs to be prepared for that if he wants to be with you. You've been together a long time before you work up the courage to tell him, though he's suspected something for a while. You couldn't get out of your bed, you weren't eating, you were sleeping and crying and shaking all day. You'd completely shut him out, not answering his calls or texts. He deserved an explanation that wasn't a half-assed apology. It all makes sense now. So, what, now I'm dating two people for the price of one? You're being vulnerable and all he has to say is that? Once he sees the look of hurt on your face, he immediately apologizes, over and over again. Of course he can make jokes about it, you'd prefer if he did instead of never bringing it up again, just not right now when you're trying to have a serious conversation. You tell him that if he wants to call it quits, he can, that you would totally understand. You know it's not easy living with you, dealing with all this, at least he has the chance to leave. That's what he calls you crazy for, for thinking he would leave you over something like this. He's seen you as your worst and he loves you more than life itself. Not despite it, not out of ignorance or because he feels like he should, he just does. Bipolar Disorder won't change that. Nothing will. You're stuck with him.

[chappellrroan]

fave Gracie Abrams songs and albums and lyrics?

her minor ep is my favourite personally because that's how i got to know her and became a fan, as for songs two people, i know it won't work, will you cry?, right now, block me out, 21, friend, i miss you i'm sorry, unlearn, brush fire, mean it, stay, mess it up, for real this time, camden are my all time fav from her released songs.

as for lyrics there are two aspects that depends on determining if i love them, for example in i know it won't work, i love how she sings "it won't work like that, huh?" but lyrically i like "i am your ghost now your house is haunted" so you can guess. anyways i will give my fav lyrics from my fav songs now <3

two people - "i loved you so hard for a time i've tried to ration it all my life, we could go yellow to black overnight i take you for granted because you're mine" (it's long but yes yes this) ALSO "cause you know everything that could kill me"

already mentioned for i know it won't work

will you cry? - "now you walk through me with my heart heavy breaking my reverie i could die early with your arms around me would it not kill to say goodbye?" AND "it's kinda funny how it goes from all to nothing you have to laugh before you start to cry"

right now - "and i ended a friendship on the day that i left and though i really meant it, it still makes me upset" (OUCH TOO REAL)

block me out - "i think i am burning alive but nobody sees the fire cause when i open my mouth i seem to be stuck in silence" AND "plus after all this time i should be a pretty crier"

21 - "i see the look in your eye and i'm biting my tongue, you'd be the love of my life when i was young" and "i get a little bit alone and sometimes i miss you again, i'll be the love of your life inside your head"

friend - "and i hate the way you love and i hate that i still care funny how you feel like we could ever talk again, how could you ever think i'd be your friend?" (applies to SO many people atp this is my lifesong)

i miss you i'm sorry - "thought you'd hate me instead you called in, said i miss you, i caught it" and the whole bridge honestly because NOTHING HAPPENED IN THE WAY I WANTED EVERY CORNER OF THIS IS HAUNTED AND I KNOW YOU SAID WE'RE NOT TALKING BUT I MISS YOU, I'M SORRY, I DON'T WANNA GO THINK I WILL MAKE IT WORSE EVERYWHERE I GO LEADS ME BACK TO US (i am very passionate about this song sorry)

unlearn - "i keep bringing all my problems to a pillow fight" and "cause if i'm gonna learn how to love you i need to unlearn how to love too need to unlearn when it feels right OH MY GOD I AM TRYING"

brush fire - "then we become a brush fire, burning all the pain HOW CAN WE SURVIVE A DESERT WITHOUT RAIN?" and "boy you know what to say before i turn away you words hit me like a hard rain in L.A"

mean it - "holding onto thin lines until we just walk between them, getting so loud i can't pretend that i dont hear them, maybe that thing you said under your breath you mean it, i know you mean it"

stay - the whole chorus honestly because COULD YOU HOLD ME WITHOUT ANY TALKING? WE COULD TRY TO GO BACK TO WHERE WE STARTED I DON'T EVEN HAVE TO STAY I DON'T EVEN HAVE TO STAY BUT IF I WOKE UP WITH YOU IN THE MORNING I'D FORGET ALL THE WAYS WE'RE BROKEN I DON'T CARE IF YOU HAVE CHANGED I DON'T EVEN HAVE TO STAY

mess it up - "heard that you're happier hope you're sleeping well knowing i'm not, i am doing too much" and "and everytime i get too close i just go mess it up" AND "i keep thinking maybe if you let me back in we can make it better breaking every habit pull myself together you can watch it happen make it happen" (the mv has very special space in my heart btw)

for real this time - "a thousand times i got up to say goodbye i could be wrong but i think i'm for real this time"

camden - "self diagnosing till i'm borderline i will do whatever helps to sleep at night" and "somebody take over drive somebody notice how i'm trying" and "all of me, a wound to close but i leave the whole thing open i just wanted you to know i was never good at coping" (one of the best bridges ever)

[irishsparkleparty]

venting about my mom under the cut because twitter got rid of circles for some reason

My sisters and I have a really complicated relationship with my mom and I just need to get some things off my chest that's not ranting to my girlfriend haha

mom is a clinically diagnosed narcissist and i'm pretty sure she's a hypochondriac. EVERY time we talk she brings up some new medical diagnosis or treatment she's trying. She'll also tell me that I might have some disorder or complication and I should get it checked out EVERY SINGLE TIME WE TALK. it makes me so paranoid about things wrong with me!!! she also overshares and tells me some really disturbing things that I should never know as her child. I don't care that I'm almost 30.

i also realized recently how parentified i was due to this. I didn't really get to enjoy my teenage years from the age of 12 because I was always looking after my siblings and cooking and cleaning because I'm the oldest.

it came to my attention recently that when my second youngest sister moved out of the house my youngest sister basically took care of herself from the age of 10. 10 YEARS OLD. and my mom wonders why she doesn't like her that much!!

something happened earlier this year that I don't want to go into detail about, but was very traumatic for me and my sisters. At the end of it one of my sisters took in our youngest to live with her (she is a minor and I live multiple states away) and is working two jobs to support her. my mom had money she promised to spend on them but only gave them a small portion and USED THE REST FOR HER OWN BILLS. my sister had to go ask our dad just to get mattresses.

because of all this bullshit going on my sisters haven't gone to visit her that much (understandably) and she's becoming attention starved. my mom does have a history of suicide attempts in the last few years. but recently she's been self-harming to get my sisters' attention and sympathy.

i don't know what to do about this but it's tearing up my sisters with guilt and I just don't know what to do.

it's so sosososo hard to discern with my mom what's genuine and what she says and does for our attention. it makes me paranoid and doubt myself and i hate having to analyze everything she does

My mom recently offered to pay for a plane ticket so I could visit everyone in the spring around my birthday. I was really grateful and excited until she said her only condition would be that I have to stay in her house the whole time. I...... don't know how to feel about this.

I love my mom. she's done many great and kind things for us. but all of this just makes it so hard and so complicated and a lot of the time i don't know how to feel about her.

I'll most likely accept her offer. I don't have money for a plane ticket any time soon and I want to see my sisters and dad.

anyway rant over lol thank you if you read *gestures* all that

[borealtwilight]

sorry i saw your tags on the picky eating posts - would you be willing to talk about ARFID? ive also got it and it fuckin SUCKS man. especially as an adult who should “just get over it”

Hey!

I will start things off by saying that I'm not officially diagnosed, as such, but the shit my brain pulls pretty much lines up with what ARFID is, so I like to say I'm self-diagnosed ( I highly doubt I am ever going to be able to obtain a professional diagnosis, and this is stuff I have put up with for as long as I can remember, so! ).

You are absolutely not alone. It sucks. It's miserable. Being able to eat safe foods is just not always feasible.

If I'm out an about, and I cannot find a Safe Food ( aka something my brain deems me able to eat ), it upsets me. It leaves me cranky, tired, hungry, and feeling like a piece of shit, because I cannot go out and just buy anything like anyone else. I need to find something that I am able to eat. Why? Who knows! I'm just saddled with a brain that's wired this way.

And I'm sick of the stigma. The bullshit. Of seeing posts on tumblr and twitter and reddit of someone asking how to deal with bringing their own food to a social event, and people mocking the original poster in the replies, calling that person a ""picky eater"".

I've been there. I've been judged by my extended family for requiring my mom to help me find food to eat if I know ahead of time that there won't be food available that I can eat. And yes, some of these adults are ""picky eaters"" themselves ( for reasons I don't know ) which makes it all the more bullshit... and hypocritical. Even if they don't say anything, I can feel their stares, and it makes me uncomfortable. I feel embarrassed and ashamed.

I just want to feel normal about it.

I hate the fact that my brain will think about me eating food that's perfectly normal and going "no actually we will throw up if we try to eat this" or "this looks bad textured, this is not going into our mouths", or declaring, during a mouthful of a safe food meal, "hey! we don't like this! we have the Urge To Throw Up if we keep eating this, so please spit out your current mouthful and get rid of the meal". It makes me feel abnormal and wrong to experience shit like this, and lack the words to be able to explain the fact that I, hands down, cannot eat what my brain refuses to let me eat, and that I cannot just "get over it".

What's so wrong about a grown-ass adult eating a meal out at a restaurant that you'd find only kids eating ( e.g. a bowl of chips ), because it's the only thing on the menu they know they are able to eat? Absolutely nothing, I say.

So screw anyone who makes you feel like a piece of shit for eating differently to everyone else. You already have to deal with your brain doing that, for crying out loud!

[crazgreenenvy]

Okay so this is legit though. I have proof of this and it's a long story so buckle up:

TL;DR - A therapist and psychiatrist were treating me for a disorder nobody believed I had, but by bringing up my friend's suggestion I was able to get tested for and treated for the right disorder and now I'm closer to a functional human being.

I was diagnosed with MAJOR DEPRESSIVE DISORDER and GENERALIZED ANXIETY DISORDER back in the day as a young adult, and I was on some good anti-depressants and had some panic attack meds and I was in a good place, feeling a-okay! But after giving birth to my kid none of my normal anti-depressants and anti-anxiety meds worked. Because I was diagnosed with MDD and GAD before pregnancy they had me seeing a special postpartum depression psychiatrist and therapist (2 ladies)- which is like whatever because there was no indication I had postpartum just 'always depressed and freaking out' which had nothing to do with new baby. The post-partum therapist they had me seeing was even like 'it does not appear you have post-partum depression...' but, I get it, doctors need patients and I was a walking sign for 'this lady might have issues adjusting to parenthood' because of my earlier diagnoses. So, whatever, I accepted it and went to these sessions like 2-3x a month.

The issue comes in because they didn't want to up me on to some of the hardcore meds for depression and anxiety that they give to people with disorders like Bipolar and stuff, so I kept getting worse and worse psychologically. I even went to the local psychiatric emergency room one night after class (grad school).

Well, one day I'm heading to my post-partum therapy sesh and I'm thinkin 'this shit ain't working. I wanna drive off a bridge and it has nothing to do with my kid- I love my kid. I wanna be around for him, but my brain says nononono get rid of yourself'. I remembered one time talking to a friend who had been diagnosed wit BPD - Borderline Personality Disorder (also now called EDD- Emotional Disaffective Disorder, and some other shit I can't remember). I think to myself, 'hey, friend said we're real similar and maybe I have it too and I should get checked for BPD.' so I go to my post-partum therapist and say 'hey I know we've been doing this CBT and stuff an that's great but I want to talk to you about something. I have a friend that has Borderline Personality Disorder and she told me after she got diagnosed that all she could think about was that I probably have the same thing, because we use a lot of the same coping mechanisms, we think similarly, and we've got the same proclivities for self-harm and self-destruction. I'd like to get tested for this.' I shit you not that therapist pulled out a book and quizzed me right then and there and said 'yep this says you have 7 of the 9 qualifiers for BPD, so it's likely that's your diagnosis'.

Now I won't edu-macate you all on BPD diagnoses, but basically this personality disorder affects how you process and understand emotions. People with BPD likely have a 'safe' emotion that is your go-to, and for me that was 'numb' or 'unfeeling', which is very common for people with BPD. My other safe emotion? Anger (usually directed at myself). BPD also makes your emotional responses either really low or really exaggerated. Basically, if a person with BPD is confronted with a situation that would elicit a normal emotion (you failed your test-> queue sadness; bought the wrong size sheets -> queue annoyance; ricotta in the lasagna -> queue disgust) but they're not comfortable with that emotion or cannot qualify that emotion and understand it, they'll go to a 'safe' emotion. So if I failed a test, instead of getting sad I'd get pissed, hate on myself, wreck shit, and try and self-exit, etc. Another example: I once bought new sheets and they were one size too small so instead of, idk, returning the sheets, I had a panic attack, sat in a fugue state for 45 minutes, then tried to self-exit. Another time, my partner and I made a frozen lasagna for dinner and I found out it had ricotta cheese in it (which I absolutely despsie) so I got pissed, started sobbing, had a panic attack, and threatened to self-exit. (This was all before I was diagnosed with MDD and GAD, so I wasn't medicated at ALL at this point). This is just a simple explanation, it's really more nuanced, but just know this is how it went for me!

So, I get my therapist to go 'yeah you have BPD we should verify this with the psychiatrist' and get an appointment booked with the psych. I go in and tell her 'me and therapist were talking and I think I have BPD and want to verify' and lemme tell you this psychiatrist looked at me like I was INSANE like 'no you don't have that, it's post-partum'. We went around in circles for like 15 minutes before I brought up what my friend had said and THAT is what made her change her mind. The validation from someone random person in my life that she'd never met somehow made her go 'hmm, okay yeah your symptoms and behavior do align with BPD more than post-partum depression'. GIRL.

I knew immediately I didn't wanna be with that psych anymore- therapist was okay really nice, but not going to help me in any way- however she did help me find a place that specialized in working with people with personality disorders. That LITERALLY saved my life. BPD coupled with the insane situation I was in (which I won't get into but let's just say premature baby+grad school+new city+racism yay!) exacerbated my depression - because I could not process my emotions for the situation. I kept going back to 'I'm the problem, I should exit the situation'. To a post-partum specialist that looks like post-partum depression. To everyone who knew me it looked like something else, something related to but bigger than my previous symptoms before I was diagnosed MDD and GAD.

Jump cut to 2 years of intensive Dialectic Behavioral Therapy, a new anti-depressant, and I LIVE BITCH. I LIVE because of a FRIEND recognizing my symptoms and pointing me in the right direction. I LIVE because a therapist was willing to listen. I LIVE because there are resources out there for people with personality disorders that teach us it's okay to feel and it's okay not to feel. Simply by saying 'my friend thinks I have this disorder' instead of 'I think I have this disorder' I was able to get the treatment I need.

FFS doctors need to start listening to patients.

TL;DR - A therapist and psychiatrist were treating me for a disorder nobody believed I had, but by bringing up my friend's suggestion I was able to get tested for and treated for the right disorder and now I'm closer to a functional human being.

This ABSOLUTELY works.

I have used this for many years. Definitely b do it.

[loveyzabell]

Hi, it's Yza

I haven't been active on this for years but I recently felt like blogging. A lot has happened over the years, a lot of growing and continuous healing. A lot of healing is still happening, perhaps it's why I decided to write this.

Lately, I haven't been doing well mentally. I feel that my mental health has been spiraling and I can't seem to get a hold of or handle it properly. Despite going to therapy during the pandemic, I had stopped seeing one after I felt that I was in a better head space. Truth be told I feel that part of the reason why my mental health has declined was possibly due to someone from my past contacting me out of the blue. Even though every fiber of my being knew I shouldn't have responded or answered the call, my first instinct was to respond. Out of fear and anxiousness, I suddenly felt the instant panic. This person called to apologize, I appreciated it. Yet made it clear I just want to move on. Maybe they were sincere, and maybe it was more so for themselves. I'm not sure and I don't want to dwell on it. Though the whole interaction was cordial, I was not doing okay my anxiety was at its highest, and after the interaction ended I had thrown up right after.

Ever since then, I haven't exactly recovered. I was honest, I don't hold hate towards them. Truth be told, I don't know what I feel towards them. Maybe anger? maybe hurt? forgiveness? Indifference? I don't really know. All I know is that this person is someone I can't be near or around because I would get triggered. I'm still healing from everything because no one can just forget everything that happened overnight.

I've experienced panic attacks again, where it felt like this person was there in the same space as me. I started to recall memories I tried to move on from and not think of. I started to feel depressed because I began to recall the moments when I was told hurtful words that had been embedded into my mind. I started to feel hopelessness, hurt/pain, and anxiety. My mental health has spiraled to the point that I began having suicidal thoughts and ideations again because I started recalling the phrases I was told, "People like you should just die" or "Why can't you accept that you're not enough?!" over and over in my head.

Regardless, I am just taking every day one step at a time. I am going back to therapy, and possibly getting a psych evaluation. I've been told by friends that I could be experiencing PTSD from years of trauma (both family and relationship-related). I've never been properly diagnosed and I am hoping that getting an evaluation would bring me some form of clarity. I am taking great care of myself and taking the necessary steps and help I need.

Sincerely,

Yza

P.S. I don't know whether or not this person still uses Tumblr, but if you see this. Move forward, be better like I've said before. Just do and be a better person. Don't treat others the way you treated me. No one deserves to feel unloved and belittled... No one deserves to question their own self-worth or have their self-esteem torn down. I did have a lot to say and ask but I decided to refrain because to me doing so would only open up old wounds that I don't want to ever feel again. I don't want to feel the immeasurable pain again. I already accepted a long time ago that I was never going to get an apology, regardless it is appreciated. I wish you the best in life.

[jianghuchild]

WIP Wednesday

Funny story: if any of you have watched Guo Ba Yin (i.e. if you were in China in the 90s probably), you know it ends with the male lead being implied to have died. Here's the thing: I'm pretty sure he got diagnosed in canon with ALS? But the medication he gets is neostigmine, which is used for myasthenia gravis. Which, while a serious disorder, isn't quite a fatal.

Basically this inspired a fix-it where they discover he was misdiagnosed and he has to deal with living for longer than he thought he was going to.

The reason I'm now posting this is that 1) I don't think I'm ever gonna finish it, 2) it's quite non-existent fandomwise, so there's not much point posting on ao3, and 3) I realized that his on-screen symptoms actually do match MG, the doctors never say the words ALS, and this was an age where MG could have been terminal. So I'm not sure how much of a fix-it this would be in canon anyway.

(Btw, this is the show I made my first and only ever video edit for.)

Title: And die...? | 就死，吗？

Jia Ling bites her lip, feet tucked under herself. She’s moved back to the dorm after breaking up with Charlie, and honestly it isn’t too bad. Both Du Mei and Fang Yan have been more than supportive, and…

Right. Fang Yan. Jia Ling twists the empty vial in her manicured fingers. Her nail traces the edge of the label. After a moment, she comes to a decision. Jia Ling pushes herself off her bed and picks up the phone down the hall. She dials the number and waits for it to ring.

“Yes?”

“Du Mei. Is Fang Yan there?”

A pause. Du Mei insists she’s forgiven her, but the betrayal probably still stings. No, Jia Ling knows it does. “He’s gone to bed. Did you need something?”

“Listen, can I come over tomorrow? I need to speak. To both of you,” she adds. She’d prefer to only speak to Fang Yan—she knows how Du Mei can get worked up over these things—but the thought of seeing him alone makes Jia Ling’s skin crawl with self-loathing.

Another pause, this one less wary. “Alright. Come over at five. I’ll make dinner.”

[...]

Fang Yan dislikes himself. Not hate, he’s not so dramatic as that. (Or maybe he is, considering the charade he pulled with Jia Ling. Maybe Du Mei just brings out the drama in him.)

Anyway the point is that he used to like himself. He’s not a fool, he knows he’s good-looking, that he’s charming and can get girls to like him. But he also dislikes that about himself. That he’s caused Du Mei so much grief.

“So,” Du Mei starts, in that way she does when she doesn’t want him to know something’s bothering her, which is often these days, “Jia Ling is coming over for dinner tonight.”

Fang Yan presses his lips together and quashes a jolt of anxiety. For a second he thinks, What’s she playing at now? But immediately he feels guilty for it, and only says, “Ah.” He won’t spend his last few years fighting with the woman he loves.

[...]

Jia Ling twists her fingers while Du Mei busies herself with a platter of fruit. Fang Yan fiddles with a cigarette but doesn’t light it, elbows on his knees. Du Mei sets down the fruit with a clatter and seats herself in the cavity of Fang Yan’s side.

“What did you want to talk about?” she asks Jia Ling.

Jia Ling bites her lip. “When…” Her eyes dart up to meet Fang Yan’s, then down again. “When Fang Yan was at my place,” and here she shifts in her seat, and Fang Yan closes his arm around Du Mei’s waist, “he had an episode.” She falls silent.

“Yes,” he prompts her, “I remember. You gave me a shot.”

Jia Ling twists this way and that, opens her mouth again and again.

“Oh, bother,” she blurts. “Du Mei, see here.” She presses something into his wife’s hand. “This is what I gave him.”

Du Mei opens her palm. It’s a tiny vial, the contents empty. On the label Fang Yan barely makes out the words Xin Si Di Ming.

“I don’t know why, or what I was thinking,” Jia Ling rambles, “And I thought long and hard whether I should tell you, because I don’t want to get your hopes up, and I could be wrong, but I couldn’t live with myself if I didn’t—”

“Jia Ling.”

Fang Yan’s heart stutters. His wife—his darling wife, who cries and never holds back—sounds close to tears. She takes two shuddering breaths against his side, and Fang Yan hates himself because he can do nothing but run his hand along her arm.

“You gave him this? You’re sure?”

“It came out of that vial exactly.”

“Why?”

Jia Ling shrugs helplessly. “It came from the hospital. By all accounts, it was misprescribed. But it worked.”

Fang Yan’s head is all mist. “What’s going on?”

“Please, Du Mei.” Jia Ling presses their hands together. “I really, really don’t want to get your hopes up.”

“I understand.” Du Mei offers a watery smile. “Thank you.”

Jia Ling nods a little uncertainly and gets up. She gives Fang Yan a complicated look—one he can’t quite decipher—and leaves, shutting the door quietly behind her.

Du Mei bursts into tears. Fang Yan scrambles, repositions them on the couch so he’s holding her fully.

“Hey, whoa, alright, hush now.” He strokes her back as she wraps herself around his waist and burrows, shaking like a leaf in his arms. “Hey now.” He softens his voice, lowers his chin to get a look at her. “What’s wrong?”

Du Mei pulls away. She sniffs violently and swipes at her face with the back of her hand, then turns to grab her jacket.

“Where are you going?” Fang Yan makes to get up, but his leg buckles beneath him. Du Mei is at his side immediately, helping him into his coat.

“We’re going to the hospital.” Fang Yan grabs her fumbling fingers. Du Mei fixes dark, watery eyes on him. “Neostigmine doesn’t work for ALS. You’ve been misdiagnosed.”

And she says it with such conviction, and suddenly Fang Yan is thinking of the day they first got married, walking into an empty classroom and the way she said, You love me and that’s enough, with the exact same certainty.

“I went to three different hospitals,” he tells her, softly, because he doesn’t want her to break. “They all said the same thing.”

“Then why did they give you neostigmine?” Her curls swing about with the force of her shaking head. “We’ll go to the hospital. If they don’t get it right, we’ll go to another one.”

“Alright.” Fang Yan stoops down and stills the hands tugging shoes onto his feet. “But let’s go tomorrow, hm? I’ll hardly die overnight.”

Du Mei glares. “Don’t you dare say that.”

[...]

The doctor rubs his face. “Curious,” he murmurs. “Yes, very curious.”

“Well, doc? Spit it out.”

“Fang Yan.”

“Come on, am I dying or not?”

“Well,” he begins, “You’re right that neostigmine isn’t usually given for ALS. Whoever wrote it for you made a mistake.” He squints at the report. “You know, medical intuition is a funny thing. The way your symptoms present themselves are almost textbook ALS. But there must have been something to make them give you neostigmine.”

Fang Yan clicks his tongue. “Come on, now. Give it to me straight.”

The doctor waffles a little more. “We’ll need to do more tests.”

[...]

A week later, the verdict comes. “Myasthenia gravis. Considering the aggressive onset of your symptoms, I’m not surprised you got misdiagnosed, even by three different hospitals.” The doctor offers Fang Yan a small smile. “It also has no cure, but unlike ALS, it’s not a death sentence.”

“A war of attrition,” Du Mei says. Her arms circle his shoulders tightly.

“Precisely.”

“So, what?” Fang Yan asks. “Ten years, eight years? Three, five?”

“No, no.” The doctor removes his tiny glasses, wipes them on the edge of his sleeve, and perches them back on his nose. “The prognosis is quite good. I would keep an eye on symptom progression”–this he addresses to Du Mei–“given the unusual onset, but otherwise you can expect to lead a more or less normal life, given proper and timely treatment.”

“A normal life…”

[benefits1986]

Unlikely Friends: Matthew, Anhedonia & Sangria

When life's highs and lows look and feel the same, what's left of you, really?

I gave Friends so many good tries from then until now; however, I'd choose Big Bang reruns as my white noise anytime. You see, the whole cast looked too polished and that their jokes maybe spot on, but I can't seem to get why they had to look too skinny and too mainstream. This was back in grade school in local TV and up until now. So, let's be clear with that.

Of course, I don't say this out loud as much especially when I have close friends who swear by this series. To each their own. Besides, one of the guys I dated has a complete Friends Lego set and bona fide fan, so, ayun na nga. Hahahahaha.

Anyway, I was moved by the last post of Matthew Perry. I liked him a lot in The Whole Nine Yards which dad and I watched in our generic VCD player several times. Good copy pa! Those good old days. I have been interacting with a good number of Gen X the past years and I must say that this bunch may be having a tougher time than Gen MZ.

As a graphic example, when my ina died, my tita who's a menopausal babe, reached out to me several times. She wanted to understand why she has been feeling unexplainably sad even when she knew that we all fought a good fight for and with my ina. She even asked, is this what depression feels like? Ang gara pala. Ito na ba talaga 'yun or baka nalulungkot lang talaga ako.

I could have dropped bombs everywhere, but, in the name of choosing to be kinder, I took several deep and deeper breaths. While I lost my mom, every experience is unique. In the same plane that our DNA are only ours (for now), death of a loved one is universal and inescapable.

I told her that depression should be clinically diagnosed but there are telltale signs. I asked her to take a break instead of indulging in her busy schedule. I requested that she may reach out to close friends who've undergone the same route for moral support. She can't explain why she knows she is okay but something is off. She has been updating me ever since but I try my best to keep a safe distance.

So, Matthew is a Gen X. Had to look it up because '69 looks like a boomer and Paperback Writer by The Beatles landed no. 1 in Billboards in that year, June 25 to be exact.

What hits home hard is his story about how phenobarbital was given to him to tame his crazy cries. My brother also took these highly addictive drugs to cure his meningitis. I never thought that my brother had a mental situation growing up. All I saw was that he's a special case and he was spoiled to death. LOL. All I felt was that he was my cross to bear and I am but a Christmas elf who slaves of my fat ass all-year round. While I totally understood that he is a special case to infinity and beyond, somehow, I care for him in a unique way. He and I may have a love-hate-hate-love-hate-hate relationship, but I'm keeping my promise mom forced me literally before she breathed her last breath. Hahahahahaha. Shemay.

This book also tackles anhedonia, my TIL. Wow. As in. It has been a term that's been in existence since 1897 from Theodule Ribot. Damn. So, this is what I may be feeling for a long time. Sakto lang lahat. Kaya lahat. Matatawid lahat. However, there are glimmers amidst the triggers.

Truth is, one of the fuck ups of the depressive state is trying not to feel too happy. There's this feeling that being too happy will just bring me back to the rabbit hole once the euphoria dies. 'Yung alam naman ng rational self ko na happiness is but a feeling pero ayoko siyang i-embrace. Sakit. 'Yung masyadong tinatalinuhan ang arguments instead of just riding the waves of emotions and waiting for the other waves to come, because they will come naman. Circle of life baga.

Coming across anhedonia at this time in my life coupled with Gabor Mate, Brene Brown and my so-called slow growth szn, may I be able to choose to be happy, instead of being too RBF. Okay. Fine. Puwede namang RBF pero may emotions na rin, kahit onti. Speaking of not feeling anything, let me share why I love unli sangria. Eto na po. Siguro eto 'yung drink na very nostalgic.

I attended a wedding way back and I had liters of sangria because ansarap. Legit. Dun ko first time sinagad 'yung aking lakas because I don't drink irresponsibly. Hindi ako ganun. But that night, solid na solid. As in nagtanggal na ako ng high heels at naka slippers na lang ako. Hahaha. Buti, mababait kasama ko. Safe space. So ayun na nga. The feeling that unli sangria gave me was to feel high and the flat line as in super sarap ng tulog ko na parang wala na ako sa earth levels is just sooooo precious. As an overthinker, wine pacifies me. Nakakalma ako, in style pa kuno. Hahahahahahah. Saka it keeps me up as well. 'Yung may kick siya talaga as in. Poetic shitballs pa because the wine glass is just too sexy for me. Ewan ko ba. Hindi siya because of soshal or mainstream kasi I like drinking sangria alone best. Nakakarami po tayo like wtf. 'Pag may kasama kasi, social thing siya. May certain social grace kahit ubusan pa rin ng lakas at budget. Plus, ang mahal ng sangria ha! E ang dali lang naman gawain nun. :p And mura pa.

A reminder lang din na don't mix anhedonia and sangria unless gusto ko ng mapunta sa beyond ng infinity real quick. Very timely ito since I'm feeling that I'm authentically healing bit by bit na after 11 years of being stuck in the rabbit hole. It's still a daily struggle na mala-EDSA meets raining in Manila vibe. It's still a constant choice na hindi birong piliin at maraming back-sliding. It's still a leap of faith. It's still growing in my defunct system that's fortified with my trusted trust issues. LOL. But, things could be better and so could be the world, or the universe, rather.

While hearing his stories, Matthew is now my official unlikely Friend. I can't help but think that he might have this planned all along. Kung baga, his death made a stronger statement in a taboo kahit pa sabihing progressive tayong lahat. Thank you, Matthew for showing us your super flawed life and demise. May it remind us that while drinking and smoking are therapeutic, they don't numb the pain. I've shared this a good number of times, but lemme share it again and again. What's wore than being numb of pain? It's still feeling the pain even when you're numbed by alcohol, drugs, sex and all forms of addiction.

Glad to know my current org has an HMO for mental health. It also makes me feel good that we have 30 wellness leaves and in my team, there's a mental health advocate who happens to be a good friend, too. :) 'Di ba? The universe is finally aligning. Kaya hirap mag-yes sa ibang invites to be honest kahit super tempting. Sana talaga magkaroon ng forever work from anywhere set up. Sana.

I have yet to finish this 5-hour audio book, but, I'd like to write this out here and now.

[shoppingshoppingshoppingshopping]

What It Wasn’t That It Isn’t - New Album!

Listen/purchase: What It Wasn't That It Isn't by Local Teen

Aye yo!

New album!

So these tunes were started late 2018 early 2019. It took maybe 6 months to shape them into what they are now. Actually, lemme go check on that. I looked at the file dates and it looks like I started shaping these in early Feb 2023 so that's about 4-5 months. I have probably 100+ songs to shape up and finish so at this rate it's going to take me 4-5 years to where I am releasing songs I wrote within the past 6 months. I am getting better at making songwriting and production choices that make the process faster but change is glacial. Like I finally figured out that I need to carve out 100-150hz for the bass to be heard on the bluetooth speaker I use to check my mixes on. Usually that means I can hear it in my airpods which are not known for decent bass. Anyway, Let's move on. I finally got diagnosed with ADHD last year so if it's obvious to you that tangents can take me away from my original point then good for you for figuring it out wayyy before I did.

ok first song:

Living in a fantasy: This one goes hand in hand with another song on the album. I won't say which but they both have the same chords. I came up with a chord structure I love and tried it maybe 8 different ways. I kept working on each version until I ended up with 2 completely different sounding songs. I didn't make a conscious choice to make them different. I just kept following what it sounded like and seeing what my subconscious wanted to add to these songs. Even now when I hear them they do not sound like to my ears at all. The lesson here (and I am saying this to myself) is that you can completely steal from someone else and still make it your own. So don’t worry that someone else will notice. It’s not a ripoff if it’s coming from your nondecision making place.

I love the drums on this. That beat comes so naturally to me that I can play it reasonably in time with very very few edits to the drums. Unlike other beats where there’s a lot of chopping up to make it sound like a decent drummer is on the track. (I’m not a good drummer but boy do I love playing drums).

I spent a lot of time shaping these words to make sense. I usually hear a line in my head then lay it down and listen back. Often my first choices are so cringe. Like “will you be cool when I put up a fight” was originally “will you be cool or put up a fight” and that sounded super rapey. Then when I switched it to the narrator's point of view that was way more interesting since it’s a dude saying it. This song also was way longer. Keith tells me my songs are often too long so I chopped it down before I even sent it to him.

Also, I fucking HATE when dogs jump on me. That had just happened twice that week when I sang the line “keep that goddamn dog away from me”. It should have been cathartic but instead it's just kind of bringing me back to that awful powerless, unsafe feeling (I’m avoiding saying “Trauma” here because I dislike the overuse of the term in pop culture but this is the term my therapist uses and I think devalues its meaning). I often explore the bad feelings I have in my music. But I’m pretty sure that doesn’t make things feel better when they come up. But it’s better in that it’s out there and I can accept who I am a little more. And that’s a big chunk of what making music brings me is closer to self acceptance. I make what I make and I need to feel happy that I can make stuff and not feel bad that I can’t make stuff that appeals to more people or meets the standards I want to hit.

At the end of the song is a clip of my baby girl that I recorded as a drop for the how neal feel podcast which I sprinkled in I think one more time on the record.

2 tengo miedo - means “I’m scared” in spanish. And I do hate when people say “I’m not going to lie”. I get that it’s supposed to sound like they are being honest but really what I hear is “I usually lie but in this rare case I will tell the truth”. Also “tengo miedo” is more fun to sing than “im scared”. It’s hard to put some english (billiards term! And a pun!) on those syllables.

This song was not intentionally meant to sound like someone else’s song but by the time I was almost done I realized I kind of came really close to a famous indie rock song. I’m not gonna say which one. You’ll have to figure it out.

My baby girl sings on this one. In the last chorus she’s layered in with me.

Keith says I did a reggie and the full effect thing with the synths at the end. I dig some of the reggie ideas, never liked the sound. I was going for that Rentals/Blue Album B-side/I just threw out the love of my dreams kind of vibe. That’s how you do synths over fuzzy gtrs. The cars did it well too. Most every punk and indie band of the late 90s early 00s did it badly.

3 I dont care what theyve got on me: I recall this song coming together really quickly. Hearing all the parts as soon as the chords came out of fingers. The drums sound a little like samples to me but I swear they’re real. I have no idea how I got that snare sound. I must have tuned it in a unique way and changed mic placement. It’s all there on the track if you solo it.

I dunno why but writing about fraud and crime comes so easily sometimes. I love love love crime movies. Probably since Goodfellas had a huge impact on me as yoot.

Big homey Dov sent a voice recording to our whatsapp group and it’s at the end of this song cuz it made me laugh and I wanted to give you lay-down-in-the-dark headphone listeners some ear candy to discover.

4: I was watching a movie depicting an extremely stressful and lonely situation and it hit me: This is what my inner childhood body feels like. Alone, lost, no one to help, no one to protect me, no one I can trust. “There’s no hope, no love, no safety, no belonging.” Those lyrics just came out. There was no need to think about it. It was all there. In the pre-chorus I am saying “Coño” which if you google will say It’s used as a vulgar term for vagina. That is not how I know it or use it (or like it). I use it in the Miami way which you say when a bad situation presents itself. Kinda like, “son of a bitch” or “ain’t that a bitch” or “damn, bro!”. When I lived in Miami it would often get shortened to just “...ño” which, to you non speakers, you say with an extra Y sound on it like in “onion” so it’s more like “conyo” with a lot of accent on the “ny” the worse the situation is like a smashed big toe or shat pants or dropping your cortado on your brand new car seat covers.

5: round 3 with beth - I’m already running out of steam here writing these liner notes but I think I recorded the guitars and they felt like something I had done before so I chopped them up and came up with a new chord structure and rhythm. I then played them back over the new idea and layered them up. I’m about 60% sure of this but don’t feel like opening up the ableton session to see what really happened cuz as the saying goes “art is a lie that tells the truth”. I heard that quote this week and I like it.

6: pay me in guitars - I usually write music before melody and lyrics. This title came to me when I had to pick a file name to save what I had recorded. It’s a good title. I am saying “crack” the way Kurt does in Lithium with that weird A sound “Crayck”. That’s a nice lil nod to my teenage man crush.

The end was so hard to mix correctly. It was initially a crazy wall of sound that to me sounded awesome. I could hear all the melodic ideas in there. But when I took a break from it and came back weeks later it was just too much noise noise noise. So I cut most of that out and played up one of the 20 guitars I layered because I came up with some jazzy chords that sounded awesome. I don’t know what they are called but I know I’ve seen them used in Radiohead guitar tabs. You basically take the high octave and flatten by a half step. They’re sad and dissonant and sound best on not super distorted guitars

7: walts got a hernia - I think I stole these chords from a song my friend keith wrote. I realized they were a staple of pop punk and don’t think I’ve ever used them before. Also, for one brief moment there’s a riff in there that might be the same as maybe one of the biggest pop punk songs of all time. I only realized this way after the fact. Funny how the songs you love sneak their bits and bobs into the songs you make. I recorded all the guitars in one go. I had the session up on my computer (I usually have a song open at all times so that when I have to work I can indulge my ADHD and hit record and see if anything comes to me).

Story: IIRC Walt came over to hang out and made me touch his gorgeous man abs to see if the weird thing he was feeling was a hernia. After he left I went to the basement studio to probably check work email and instead hit record. All these words and vocals and melodies came out with zero forethought in one straight take…. As my favorite rappers say “off the dome”. And I can hear the difference in the melody and lyrics. It’s got spaces and fills and call backs I have never used consciously before.

I tried rerecording the vocals a few times but nothing ever came close to the natural laid back delivery I had the first time. I realized that what I had was actually cool. So it stayed and I made it work with some clever edits you can’t hear.

8 yesenia - I was listening/watching so much of the bodega boys when I wrote this. I was picturing Mero’s sassy Yesenia character and my desires to court the gorgeous and stop-your-clownin’ Dominican woman I imagined.

OK I’m all out of energy. I’ve been writing for an hour straight. The rest of the songs are all stuff I wrote for the How Neal Feel podcast. Why aren’t they all on their own release? Well I spent 2 fucking weeks prepping probably 80 fucking songs on 6 different albums (where I created unique artwork for each) I wrote for podcasts/commercials/shows that happen to be 30 seconds long or less.

So why didn’t they get released?

And now we get to modern tech platforms ruining art.

First: if a track isn’t 30 seconds or longer and you can’t get paid for a stream.

Second, they will not allow an album where the average song length is less than 60 seconds. So at the end of this record it had to go. I get why they have to do that but still. Fuck them. How about instead of a blanket policy you allow some carve outs for people not trying to scam the system by uploading 30 seconds of noise with the same song titles as other artists? I mean clearly this can be fixed if humans are incharge and not algos.

They would say, “there isn’t a single streaming platform that has ever turned a profit. Do you know the cost it would take to hire and train that many people?”.

I say fair point.

But then let me counter with: that’s cuz y’all made a shitty deal with the major labels when you set such low streaming rates that now kinda fucks all artists except the top 1%.

The whole system is screwed up and I get the economic realities the companies have to deal with. Hopefully AI can help automate some of this and a feller like me who makes music every day with an addiction like dedication can make a modest living from his art one day. “From my lips to gods ears” as my dad likes to say.

I honestly dream about waking up and having a solid 6-8 hours every day to make music in between bouts of building stuff, painting stuff, playing games and what not. And enough to live near a warm ocean with waves. I think I’d really like surfing. That would be just the greatest. So share this with people that might like it. The more listeners I get the more music I can put out and maybe one day this can be my full time job.

Jah Bless.

Credits: R and E sang on stuff. Dov makes an appearance. Keith gave me feedback. Trevor too. I played, recorded, mixed and did everything else.

[nobodysystem]

i am so inured to social rejection that my presdisposition is to assume entirely negative results from any kind of social interaction, and i do kind of have a solid sense of self inasmuch as i have a deep belief that i am Bad, and also i near-exclusively socialize in a dream reality with hostile strangers which in combination means i bring a kind of "everyone will hate me no matter what i do" vibe to the "lists of personality disorder symptoms" that attempts to categorize me don't really enjoy

the thing is i still yearn desperately for attention and connection and pity and make bids for all of those things. the description of the mindsets that go with the diagnoses resonate with me, clearly, and if nothing else i can recognize that my modus of interaction with the world is clearly wrong enough in some way that a personality disorder diagnosis may legitimately be appropriate. but i just don't expect any of those bids to ever work

[*] i'm not sure if this should be a red or teal star. lord knows i am acting incapable all the time, mostly due to being incapable, but i rationally know not to bank on people being sympathetic at me for it

[**] this is not an actual caveat but the reason i know this to be the case is because um i am so depressed that mania is immediately apparent 😬

[***] <- guy who has spent their life in such a state of utter abjection that it actually kind of precluded a lot of forms of abuse, which i am aware is definitely a silver lining but does not feel like one

[****] i definitely hate when people are mad at me or shut me down but lord knows i have not at any point stopped the behavior that leads people to do that.

[*x5] however i do constantly bring up shit that actually happened which every other party in the conversation would naturally assume to be bullshit. this is actually a behavior my entire family engages in (similar to the 2x1 "i don't think so" square) which, despite the fact i am clearly doing it for cool points, does somewhat cast doubt on the idea that this is indicative of a pathology specific to me

tries to do a hpd bingo just so i can go right back to Denial Town and is tripped up halfway through by the way i no longer socialize normally due to being "the Bojack Horseman of magical girls"

[dielitttt]

Astro observations pt. 4 🕷

Am I the only Capricorn mercury who loses breath while reading or talking fast or in like a fast pace?? Like when I used to do music class in elementary and middle school I used to be put to sing but I would go out of breath rlly quickly and that’s y I hated it.

Why do Sagittarius placements or fire sign placements always forget things quickly somehow? (Including me😕)

People with strong Leo placements usually have issues w their eyes a lot of times

Some people with major pisces,cancer, air sign and Aries placements tend to have adhd sometimes (don’t self diagnose yourself w this pls)

Cancers with Gemini and pisces in personal planets tend to gaslight, manipulate, and bring up things that bother ppl

I’ve dated someone that’s a cancer with a mix of air signs in their chart, and they’ve dated someone else while hitting me up saying “I wanna break up with her but I don’t wanna hurt her feelings” because he wanted to date me again??? Makes no sense at all

Idk but Earth suns, earth moon and a mix of Sagittarius placements ppl are very private and barely date anyone even if they like them, if they let u date them your probably very lucky!

Sagittarius sometimes have issues with their stomachs, for example I know many Sagittarius risings with fast metabolisms and tend to be insecure about being skinny sometimes.

People with Uranus stelliums are always labeled as “weird” or “odd” from their own family members sometimes 😕

Aquarius chirons and Liliths need hugs like actually the way they’ve been treated by their own peers or family is sad

Aries rising are always seem to be very masculine and sometimes labeled as a homosexual because of their masculinity sometimes unless they have strong feminine placements tho

I barely have any water placements and I hide my emotions easily and can numb my emotions rlly randomly. But when I’m mad that shit shows so easily in my facial expressions.

It’s so weird how astrology is so accurate..

Mercury-Saturn or Pluto-saturn aspects tend to have a rlly controlling family towards their career sometimes especially their mother

Leo moons either hate or love eating a lot of sweets

Pisces in neverland people tend to sleep to escape from their real life problems they don’t wanna deal with or just sleep as an escape to things in general

If u look more identical to your parents and have a lot of their facial features sometimes u can have their rising sign

Water moon people HATE changing their music taste sometimes

Sagittarius’s and Aquarius’s tend to love different music taste and have a very random music taste with a bunch of genres in it especially leos too

Sagittarius’s suns with water moons and Sagittarius rising probably get their music taste from TikTok or would lie abt their music taste for someone they like ☠️☠️ (don’t take tjis to offense pls)

WHY ARE SCORPIO MOONS SO OBESSED WITY CATS BRO I SWEAR THEM MFS WILL LITERALLY FOLLOW EVERY CAT THEY SPOT DAWG😭😭

Scorpio Lilith people with Capricorn placements are so funny when they try to manipulate someone sometimes like I be watching them manipulate someoen so obviously and the person they manipulate be so clueless sometimes..

Gemini mars men are the type of people who fantasize having public sex ☠️

the way my mom has gemini Venus and my dad has gemini mars+ my bestfriend has gemini mars 2 is crazy bro 😭😭

The stereotype that Aries risings have big forheads is true and not and the same time

Aries placements probably have a fear of drowning because they’ve probably drowned once. Y’all Aries placements should be careful w water sometimes.

people be surprised that earth mercurys are funny bc they always have some dry ass humor sometimes I swear 😭😭

Ik this has nothing to do with astrology but why is migos always have the best verses on the songs he features in??

[stonedorjustqueer]

One thing I hate about being diagnosed with autism at 15 was that I learnt to mask from a really young age, to the point that people are genuinely surprised when I tell them or they say I must be pretty 'high-functioning'.

Being forced to act 'normal' because no one knew about my diagnoses lead to me being unable to openly stim and express myself, even years after the diagnoses, and when I do I'm accused of acting out or faking.

It got to the point where the only time I do stim is in the midst of a meltdown or when I witness someone else stimming and I just suppress anything that won't pass as neurotypical. I just always feel numb.

I still struggle to this day to identify what I'm feeling or what I need and I always feel like I can't bring it up with anyone. My therapist tried to work with me on identifying self-talk, saying that the emotions are the easy part. I just felt like crying. It wasn't until towards the end he remembered my diagnoses then made light about how I must barely register on the spectrum to be so 'high-functioning'.

I can't even have a panic attack without my dad threatening to give me a reason for all the 'unnecessary' crying and panicking. The only person that even remotely understands is my mom but she still she's it from a conservative and neurotypical point of view, as someone who works with 'special' kids. Even she admitted that the six year old selectively mute autistic boy shes working with right now reminds her of me at that age.

The difference is no one forces him to be normal, no one forces him to 'just deal with it' when it comes to sensory issues. No one forces him to talk or to stay still or 'eat what your given or else go hungry'

No one else should have to go through that. No one deserves that. I just wish someone saw it in me sooner rather than just see me as a try-hard goody two shoes. Maybe then I'd be able to be my true autistic self and not have to hide from everyone, including me.

Just please make sure no one else has to hide like I did.