#and i was SINCERELY thinking like. i’m not disabled. especially not by my mental health. i’m literally fine and normal.

[ghostzzy]

i am so stupid sometimes

[am-i-the-asshole-official]

AITA for bad-mouthing my boyfriend’s toxic family?

(🐈‍⬛ For me to recognize my post later)

I (20f) have a boyfriend (21m) who is physically disabled and still currently living at home with his parents for a while as he tries to scrape his savings together to move in with me. This wouldn’t be an issue, if his parents weren’t immensely transphobic (he’s trans) and outright abusive towards him. Despite having an official doctor’s diagnosis for ALL of his issues, both mental and physical, they just?? Like to pretend that he’s completely able-bodied, and that he’s making up his issues “for attention” (<- something that they’ve actually said to him)

My bf isn’t ready to leave the house just yet because he doesn’t want to feel like a burden and wants to be able to support himself without my help, despite my constant offering and support, but this ofc just means that he’s STAYING in that house, and it’s clear that it effects him really negatively. He’s improved a lot since I’ve met him in high school, but him being in that house is just. Awful for his health, his self esteem, literally everything. I guess I understand his reasonings for not leaving (he’s on his parents’ health insurance, his dad’s a vet so he gets a ton of money off his college bill, he’s got a little sister at home that he doesn’t want to leave alone, etc etc), but at the same time, I fucking HATE his parents, more than I’ve ever hated anyone in my life. He’s such an amazing guy, but I’ve seen him reduced to panic attacks just on their words alone, and it’s awful and I hate them.

I’m also very vocal with this hate. I tell him all the time. Whenever he vents to me, or mentions something awful that his parents have/had done in passing, or tries to excuse their behavior, I will tell him point-blank that I hate his parents and that he needs to leave. He gets incredibly upset whenever I say stuff like that, however, and has asked me multiple times to quit it, but it’s just so hard to see him loving them so fiercely when they literally only give him the bare minimum in return.

The reason for this post at all is because I started going off on a tangent about two days ago when he managed to escape (he has to ask for permission every time he wants to go out) to my place to destress and have a small date night, and I specifically asked him how his parents had been treating him recently because he’d been pretty quiet about it. He got really quiet and eventually told me that they keep adding really weird stuff to do for his household responsibilities (ex: dusting the UNDERSIDE of tables??) and that they’re now threatening to take away the things he loves (his phone, his books, his DOOR) if he doesn’t keep up with the new workload, which is especially hard because, again, he’s DISABLED. Well this pissed me off, because they’ve done shit like that in the past and it never ends well for him, and I started talking about how much his parents suck and how I wish he would just leave, and he got really quiet and just said “I think I’m just gonna leave now” and just. Left

In the aftermath, I feel awful about it. We’ve texted a few times since then, and he says that he’s okay and that it was fine, and how he just needs to get over it, but it’s very clear that he’s still upset by it and just trying not to make it a big issue. I know that he hates it when I badmouth his parents, but I genuinely do not know any other way to get it into his head that he needs to leave as soon as possible, if only to save his own health. I love him so so much, we’ve been together since high school, we would die for each other, and we’ve been through so much that not very many couples have had to go through, especially not at our age. I sincerely just want the best for him, and this feels like I could open the topic again and try to make him SEE, but I’m just worried that I might have upset him this time in a way that he might not be able to get over.

Sorry for this getting so long, I just feel very strongly about it and I want to know if I’m the AH here and should lay off, or keep trying to make him see that he just needs to get out as soon as possible. So tumblr, AITA?

What are these acronyms?

[lalahbug]

Guidance - Zuko x Reader Chapter 6

Fandom: Avatar the Last Airbender Word Count: 3,232 My Masterlist

Warnings/disclaim: General 18+ Angst

Author’s Note: under story ___ is a blank for your name/oc/whatever you prefer Written in 3rd person Line/header is to separate paragraphs to indicate time skips, as Tumblr hates my formatting.

Story under cut, 6 of 8, Guidance Masterlist

        A few weeks had passed, ___ was healed and quickly became the new mother figure of the group. Teaching about survival, chi blocking, and helping with most of the chores. Of course, she also played with the group and lectured them like a mother as well.

        ___ and Aang were meditating together, during a sunrise, which Aang wasn’t too happy about after being up most of the night traveling. Aang peaked at her as she exhaled deeply, relaxing further, still keeping her posture. 

        “Staring at me isn’t going to help your mediating, Avatar.”

        “You didn’t even open your eyes; how did you know?” He pouted but started meditating again.

        “Your breathing went normal instead of trained.”

        “How do you do that?”

        “Do what?”

        “Hear so well, know when I’m doing something I’m not supposed to do.”

        “I’ve had heightened senses for a long time. But as for knowing when you’re doing something, we’ll chalk it up to Mother Instinct.” She chuckled softly. “You’re really not in the mood to meditate, are you?”

        “No!” Aang groaned before falling backward.

        “Okay, practice your breathing with me for a bit then I’ll let you go.”

        “Okay!” Aang agreed with a smile while sitting up. 

        Aang and Katara were practicing some waterbending, while ___ watched their movements.

        “Why don’t you come join us? Aang could use the opportunity to fend off two waterbending foes.” Katara smiled and splashed some water at Aang.

        “Thank you, but I don’t know many waterbending moves, I’d be an easy target. I can only whip water and create waves.”

        “That’s right, being from the North Pole, they never taught you. But didn’t you learn on your own?”

        “I only got the water whip and the wave, that’s all I learned on my own.”

        “Why didn’t you say anything? We could have taught you.” Aang urged.

        “I’ve never been a good waterbender, there’s no point in teaching me. I’m an average healer and I can do pretty movements with a full moon, but that’s it. My strength is chi blocking and fast reflexes.”

        “Well, I think you could be a good waterbender. Why don’t you practice with us? You can learn some new moves and there is no pressure if you can’t do it well. Because like you said, your strength is chi blocking.” Katara urged, ___ shrugged before disrobing a bit, and getting into the water with the two masters.

        One day before the invasion, The Day of Black Sun, and Aang wasn’t able to sleep. ___ was up with him, just after sunset.

        “You can’t stay awake before the invasion. You need to be rested. But I think if you’re alone, it’ll be worse. So, would you like to go over the chakras to help you with the Avatar State?”

        “I think I know them; I just can’t do the last one.”

        “Ah, you mean the Thought Chakra? Is it because of Katara?”

        Aang blushed a bit before sighing. “Yes, but also, I don’t know how to let go of Earthly attachments when I have to protect them.”

        “The Avatar is bound to this earth to protect it. You must learn to balance these or they will be your downfall. You let Katara go completely at Ba Sing Se, you were then attached to cosmic, too attached to cosmic energy. As the Avatar, you must find balance with your cosmic energy and your Earthly attachments. You can open the Thought Chakra, by learning to balance your attachments. Earthly, Avatar, cosmic, love, spirit, and even your nomad teachings.”

        “What about my nomad teachings?”

        “There will be a day where you might have to sacrifice your beliefs for the greater good, to keep balance in the world. But because of your teachings, I know you’ll find a way to balance the good with your morals.”

        “You’re talking about the Fire Lord, aren’t you?” Aang curled up and placed his weary head on his knees.

        ___ smiled at him gently, examining the bags under his eyes. “You can face him, you can beat him, we all believe in you, especially as he is powerless during the eclipse. But, what if, you can’t get to him in time. Don’t get me wrong, Sokka’s plan is amazing. Things don’t always go as planned. If you can’t get to him in time, you will have to fight him someday. How will you restrain him? Or will you have to take his life? I worry about the outcome of this plan a lot. From my talks with Roku to how devious the Fire Nation is. I just hope you know, if this fails. It’s not your fault. There will be some other factor that makes it so you can’t get to him in time. I have no doubt about you facing him, just our timing.”

        “It’s terrifying to even think of facing Ozai, but hearing the faith you have in me helps. Hearing that you don’t expect me to defeat him tomorrow, really helps. But your question haunts me. How will I restrain him?”

        She placed a gentle hand on his shoulder, “I believe in you Aang, the world does. But in the end, you are just one kid, and you will need to listen to words of wisdom from your past lives. From ancient sources, and learn to bend life and energy itself if you are to defeat Ozai without taking his life.”

        “Bend life and energy? How do I do that?”

        “I’m not sure, I only read about it in the spirit library. You will have to hope that an ancient source shows you.”

        “Well, with you and the Spirit World to access, I think I’ll be able to find it if needed.”

        She smiled at him before meditating with him. She knew of the group's plan to make a bed for Aang so he could finally sleep, she was just keeping him company in the meantime.

        “___?” She hummed softly in reply, still meditating. “What if we see Zuko during the invasion? What will you do?” She opened her eyes, a sorrowful smile formed as their eyes met.

        “Depending on where he is in his journey, I’ll either have to disable him or listen to him.”

        “What do you mean?”

        “My first night in the Spirit World with Roku. He let me know of my future, to help me mentally prepare for it. He told me a beautiful tale of me falling in love, with his great-grandson. But he warned me, his great-grandson has the ability to be good or bad. As Roku and Sozin are both his great grandfathers.”

        Aang gasped, “Zuko’s mom is the granddaughter of Roku?”

        “Yes, that’s why he is at war within himself. Between his two natures. He also didn’t have the healthiest of families to help him cope with it either. His uncle, although wonderful, found his path in life a bit late. I hope Zuko will find that path one day too, but I can no longer be the one to guide him, he must find it himself. But only time will tell if he will find it soon or if he will live a long life trying to find it.”

        “Do you still love him?”

        Her eyes fell to her stomach and the bump there. “I do, but when he took another woman because I was unconscious for weeks, I feel as though maybe my love might have been blinded by the fairy tale Ruko told me. For he never mentioned a child. He only mentioned I would have to choose to forgive Zuko or not, and that it would be very difficult for me. I love him, but I'm not sure if I can forgive him just yet."

        "It must be hard, not knowing if he loves you or not, yet still having this child."

        "It hurts not knowing, but it's not too hard. I'm not worried for some reason, not when it comes to this baby."

        Aang had a flash of the small baby named Hope that Katara had helped deliver a few months back. "Babies are a beautiful thing, especially when you have someone to share it with."

        "Katara asked me to stay until the baby is born at the very minimum, so in a way I will, you guys are the closest thing I have to family right now. So, I'll share that experience with you."

        "So, I get to be an uncle?" He smiled.

        "You'll be the best uncle!" They giggled softly and she smiled at him fondly as the group approached them, ready to help Aang finally sleep. 

        After the invasion, Aang wanted nothing to do with the planning for the next steps, next attack. ___ shut herself away from the group and the others with them now. She should have been left behind with the other adults, but they wouldn’t hear her protest, since she was pregnant. 

        Walking along one of the many corridors of the Western Air Temple, she hummed softly to herself, enjoying her solitude, wanting to fix her mental state before joining everyone. No one needed a pouty pregnant woman around, all because they didn’t listen to her. They had her and the baby’s health in mind, they weren’t trying to make her feel more useless or weak. So; she needed to be alone to fix the brewing thoughts before they burnt anyone needlessly.

        She walked until she felt lost and sighed and started to head back to the group, for dinner. But when she arrived everyone was sulking and arguing about something.

        “What’s wrong?” ___ asked while getting some food after Sokka said something about not adding animal cruelty to the list.

        “I’ll tell you-” Katara started, ready to vent to someone else.

        “Wait,” Toph cut off Katara. "___ how would you feel, if Zuko came here asking for forgiveness and to teach Aang firebending?”

        She understood what had happened just from Toph’s question, her heart sped up, the broken pieces throbbing, she took a breath to reply. “Aang needs a firebending teacher, and Zuko, well he’s a good firebender. I don’t know how I feel about him asking for forgiveness, but if you thought he was sincere, Toph, I would let him stay. Because if you think he was sincere the whole time, it hopefully means he’s finally found the correct path.” She looked to Aang with a sad smile, reminding him of their conversation when he was so sleep-deprived.

        “How?” Katara asked softly. “How can you just allow him here? Forgive him and trust him? Especially after what he’s done to you?”

        “I don’t forgive him; I don’t trust him. But the options of firebending teachers are pretty limited to Aang. Only time can tell if he can earn trust and forgiveness from any of us. We have to look past ourselves. The world needs the Avatar, the world needs Aang to learn firebending. If we still can’t trust him after he’s with us and he’s taught Aang, then you can give him the boot and send him packing.”

        “I hate when mother is right,” Sokka grumbled.

        “I am not your mother,” ___ snapped. “I’m a friend. I’m tired of being treated like some soft pregnant woman with motherly love. I’m a fighter. My pregnancy doesn’t change that. I will only let motherly change take me when the world is no longer at war. I can’t soften and hold everyone’s hand through this. You’re all kids to me, but the world can’t have the Avatar, a master of waterbending, master of earthbending, and a sword master, be kids. You have to keep the goal in your mind.”

        “You’re still mad at us for making you come with us? Instead of letting you stay with the other adults, aren’t you?” Aang asked softly.

        “Yes.” She exhaled sharply before taking a deep breath. “But I know you did it because you care about me,” she rested a hand on her stomach. “About the baby. But you wanted me here, so I’m here. And I think you should listen to what Zuko has to say without emotion.”

        “All I know is that while he was talking to us, he was sincere. Maybe you’re all just letting your hurt feelings keep you from thinking clearly.” Toph said in agreement with ___.

        “Easy for you to say, you weren’t there when he had us attacked by pirates.” Katara spat.

        “Or when he burned down Kyoshi Island,” Sokka added.

        “Or when he tried to capture me at the fire temple.” Aang finished.

        “Why would you two even try to defend him?” Katara said so frustratedly she was shaking.

        “Because, Katara, you’re all ignoring one crucial fact. One ___ has already told you!” Toph stomped up to Aang and poked him in the chest. “Aang needs a firebending teacher! We can’t think of a single person in the world to do the job. Now one shows up on a silver platter and you won’t even think about it?” She shook the ground with a couple more stomps.

        “I’m not having Zuko as my teacher!” Aang walked away from ___ and Toph.

        “Aang-” ___ started before Sokka cut her off.

        “You’re darn right, you’re not buddy.” Sokka stood tall, finalizing his backup with Aang.

        “Well, I guess that’s settled,” Katara said smugly. ___ sighed before looking at Toph.

        “I’m beginning to wonder who’s really the blind one around here.” Toph stormed off, ___ followed behind her.

        Toph and ___ were walking through the forest, to find Zuko.

        “You didn’t have to come with me,” Toph sighed.

        “I know, but I would like to talk to Zuko too. I think I know him well enough to tell when he’s lying, whether you can detect it or not.”

        Toph giggled pointing to ___’s stomach, “I would hope you knew him well enough.”

        “Oh shush,” she pushed Toph playfully, but it was clear she was a bit exasperated by the comment.

        “Do you think Zuko would try to trick us all; like he did to you and Katara?”

        “Zuko didn’t trick me. I don’t think he meant to trick Katara either. I think he loved me in his own way. He was good in Ba Sing Se. But the allure of home was stronger than the good.”

        “But now that he’s here, you think the good called him back?”

        “I’m hoping that. I’m hoping he found his true destiny.”

        “I’m hoping you’re right,” Toph said with a sigh.

        While moving through the brush the women alerted Zuko.

        “Who’s there?” His voice was groggy, the sound of it stung ___’s heart. As they got closer, he yelled. “Stay back.”

        “It’s me!” Toph shouted back, but it was too late, Zuko had already lashed out fire in his fear, Toph even tried to make herself an earth shield. She fell as the flames licked the soles of her feet “Ow! You burned my feet!”

        Zuko was up and running towards her as she started to crawl away. “I’m sorry, it was a mistake!” He cried while chasing after Toph, but sudden strikes to his body made him collapse.

        “Get away, Zuko!” ___ shouted while scooping up Toph.

        “___?” He gasped, trying to sit up, she only chi blocked his right side. As she started to walk away, he called out to them. “No, please, come back! I’m sorry!” He tried to get up, but the weight of his right side would not shift and he fell back. He groaned along with his heart ache seeing ___ walk away and ignore his plea, his apology. “Why am I so bad at being good!” He cried to the sky, wishing to be able to rewind time.

        He’d go back so far if he could, but he pleaded now silently inside his head. “Please let me go back, even just 5 minutes.” He exhaled in defeat, wondering what the girls had wanted to say, but now he’d never know.

          Days passed and the threat of Combustion Man was gone, Hokada and Suki back. While sitting around the fire with everyone, Zuko served tea again, while he did so, he noticed ___ left the group. Excusing herself to go lie down. And the night where he burned Toph’s feet came to mind. She came with Toph, what did she want to say?

        After his failed joke and everyone had settled their laughter. “Does ___ leave the group often after dinner or is that because of me?” Zuko asked softly, silence rang afterward. Katara and Aang shared a soft look.

        “Before the invasion, I was restless, ___ was meditating with me. I asked how she would react if we were to run into you since, at the time, you were still an enemy, a threat.” Aang sipped his tea before continuing. “She simply said she'd either disable you or listen to you. She believed in you even then, she just wasn’t sure when you'd find your correct path in life.”

        “But when she thinks about you, hears your name, or even just briefly has a polite encounter with you. Her heart beats sickeningly. Like the broken pieces are trying to pull together.” Toph added since she was able to hear and feel ___’s heartbeat.

        “I want to explain myself, talk to her. But I want to do it alone.”

        “You should be thankful she even acknowledges you exist,” Katara spat, still angry.

        “I am, she’s always been forgiving. But I don’t know how forgiving she’ll be with me.”

        “___ still loves you,” Toph encouraged him.

        “But before we allowed you in the group, she did say only time would show if you deserved trust and forgiveness,” Sokka added, Suki elbowed him. “What? He should know the truth, the good and the bad.”

        “Thank you, that helps. Maybe she’s not ready to hear my apology, because she doesn’t forgive me or trust me yet.”

        “Make sense, you engaged her, impregnated her, broke your promise then left her for another woman because she was basically in a coma,” Katara stated with venom.

        “I never left her, but I was too cowardly to tell my father no to the arranged marriage. Scared to not be his perfect son again.”

        “Mai still seems to love you, since she helped with the prison break,” Sokka said.

        “Another heart I broke, by being a misleading person. She loves someone within me that I’m not. She doesn’t understand that I’m trying to save my country, my kingdom. The world fears and hates the Fire Nation. I need to try and heal that and help the Avatar bring balance back into the world.”

        “I think ___ just needs a little time, she was for having you here from the get-go with me,” Toph popped some more food in her mouth. “She’s just not ready to deal with you. Since she’s been having some health issues with the baby, every time we have stress, she gets sick.” Toph said sadly.

        “Well with the invasion being over, Combustion Man gone. Hopefully, things will calm down.” Katara said before standing up. “I should go check on her and the baby before we sleep.” She stood and left towards the way ___ had left earlier.

        Zuko sighed and sipped his tea. He would need to be patient a bit, wait for some alone time with his love, and keep an eye on her troubled health with the baby.

Author’s Note:

Hello, I know I’ve been gone for awhile, but I’m getting better mentally and personally. I can’t promise when the next chapter will come out, but I’m hoping by the end of May. 

I’d like to thank everyone that’s liked previous chapters and stayed with me on this. This is still my indulgence, anime fanfics, but after this series. I might go into show/movie fanfics (like Marvel and Supernatural), make a list of who I’d be willing to write for and open a for request for a bit. 

Also, for the one lovely who wanted to be added/tagged for new chapters, here you go; thank you for your love on this <3

@eridanuswave​

[kirksfattitties]

asks you can smell the privilege and internalized ableism radiate from

(tw for ableism and other bigoted implications)

i’m bad at reading tone but even i understand that this is 100% you being condescending and trying to cover it up with smiley faces and false sincerity. and i don’t appreciate that.

before i get into deconstructing your shitty ableist argument, i want to explain the reasons i believe in self diagnosis (self-dx):

even professional diagnosis doesn’t start with a doctor diagnosing you. there has to be a reason for seeing the doctor. some people see a doctor in their adult life because they’re struggling, some people are taken by their parents, some people are referred or suggested that they see a specialist. whatever it is, you don’t just see a doctor and they magically give you a neurodivergency. people have neurodivergencies before they see doctors and even if they NEVER see a doctor.

the psychiatry system is flawed in MANY ways and to say that it isn’t means you’re denying the experiences of people with less privledge than yourself. also like psychiatry isn’t gonna suck your dick. you don’t have to be a bootlicker lol

in many places (hi hello i’m from america where our government tries to indirectly kill us by not providing us with adequate healthcare! i and many other people have many issues we can’t get fixed because simply our government cares more about the economy than us), seeing a psychiatrist or a therapist or going to a mental hospital or WHATEVER is INCREDIBLY expensive. and to assume that everyone has access and enough time/money/energy/transportation/whatever to do all of that is classist and elitist.

ANYTHING medical (including mental health) is biased towards white cis men. most studies are done on white cis men/boys. because of this, people who aren’t white cis men (or people who aren’t perceived as white cis men) are often not diagnosed. the system is racist. the system is sexist. the system is transphobic. people don’t know how to diagnose autism or adhd or personality disorders or other neurodivergencies or even mental illnesses in black people and other people of color, in women, in trans people, etc. and GOD FORBID someone be in multiple (or all) of those categories. saying “just go get diagnosed :)” is a privileged statement to make.

shocker! the psychiatry system is also ableist. if you’re already diasabled (whether it be mental or physical) and you see a doctor about ANOTHER disability? the doctor is most likely going to shoot you down. or at least be weary about someone having mutliple disabilities.

also most people who diagnose are neurotypical. they have never and will probably never experience neurodivergency so they can never fully understand it. they operate off of stereotypes of neurodivergent people and usually only stereotypical behavior of neurodivergent white cis men (which, as i mentioned before, is problematic for anyone who isn’t a white cis man). neurotypical diagnosers don’t know the neurodivergent culture and aren’t trained to recognize very common things (like masking for example).

a professional diagnosis can also be weaponized. not everyone can get a professional diagnosis because there are some neurodivergencies (such as autism and personality disorders) and mental illnesses (like depression) that can have legal and medical respercussions to have in your record. trans people can be denied medical and legal transition for being professionally diagnosed. people can lose custody battles for being professionally diagnosed. a professional diagnosis can be used as justification for taking away someone’s body autonomy (especially if that person is also physically disabled).

a LOT of neurodivergencies also have some type of symptom (or symptoms) that make it difficult to interact with people. troubles recognizing facial expressions, troubles understanding certain phrases and types of speech, paranoid about people, audio processing issues, being nonverbal in an environment that doesn’t accommodate for it, overstimulation, extreme social anxiety, discomfort in new situations, problems with eye contact, and a lot more. because like. for many nd people, interacting with people is very difficult and stressful. and hey. if you want to get a professional diagnosis? take a WILD guess what you have to do? FUCKING INTERACT with people! LIKE?? JEHDJJDKEKKDKDKDS. do you know how many professionally diagnosed nd people i know who made their appointment COMPLETELY on their own without help from a parent or family member or friend? LITERALLY ZERO! and i know A FEW nd people who have professional diagnoses! so if someone has social issues that prevent them from doing tasks like calling and making an appointment, showing up for an appointment, talking during the appointment, etc and ALSO doesn’t have familial or friend support (because newsflash! people who are friends/family of disabled people can still be ableist)? almost impossible to get a diagnosis! plus, the diagnosis process is TIME CONSUMING. not everyone can focus on a task for that long and not everyone can miss work/school for that long.

so those are the reasons i support self-dx. (although there’s probably more that i’m forgetting but i have adhd and it’s hard for me to remember things!)

so hopefully you now understand my reasons for believing in self-dx, and perhaps even you’re pro-self-dx now because before you were just uneducated on these issues and how they impact people who aren’t you.

but in case you’re still anti-self-dx and probably hate already-marginalized neurodivergent people, let’s talk about this horrendous ask (series of asks, actually) that i got sent. i feel like i can feel the self hatred and internalized ableism OOZING from this ask and into my inbox, so thanks for that i guess /s

“Sometimes people who self diagnose can take away from those who are actually nd, even sometimes from themselves.”

starting out strong with the ableism on this one by separating people into “self diagnosed” and “actually nd” people. self diagnosed people ARE actually nd

there’s not a limited number of nd resources. this isn’t a math equation of only x amount of people can be nd because there’s only y amount of resources. more people realizing they’re nd will actually MAKE more resources for nd people and will bring more awareness to being nd

even IF someone self diagnosed, and they go back on it later, what harm was done? they learned some coping mechanisms? they made some nd friends? neither of those are problematic and i think they’re both actually very helpful. i think nt people SHOULD learn more about nd people and stuff because i think that will lead to WAYYY less misunderstandings and WAYYYY less ableism

“There are many people who fake nds for attention,”

hey anon, what fucking world do you live in that nd’s are cool enough to fake having? because i would LOVE to live there. like, i literally had a post about my personality disorder (which i will not be specifying) i had to delete because people were sending my anons about how i was “scary” and “threatening” now that they knew i had the personality disorder i have. last year i left a discord server because the ableism i was recieving from not only the members of the server, but the mods as well. there are very few people i know irl who i tell about my personality disorder, but when i tell people about my adhd, they start treating me different. they infantalize me and make fun of me and use “jokes” about stereotypical adhd behaviors to alienate me and they even TELL OTHER PEOPLE without my permission. i was SEVERELY bullied throughout elementary and middle school for being nd. i have been refused job and educational opportunities as well as literal medical attention for being nd. people aren’t “faking” being nd, and if they were they probably wouldn’t be doing it for long because it’s not something that’s EASY to deal with.

kinda ironic that you’re saying people can’t diagnose themselves but that YOU can tell when someone is faking their diagnosis. that’s both hypocritical and a double standard.

masking exists. if you think someone isn’t “acting nd enough” they’re probably masking because they’ve been fucking bullied and harrassed. also you’re probably basing whatever you think nd is on stereotypes. not every nd person is sheldon cooper lol.

this is a side note but can we talk about how you’re literally just taking transmed rhetoric and molding it to fit nd people? like. you really come onto MY NONBINARY NEURODIVERGENT blog and expect me to validate your recycled “but what about the REAL [insert group] people?” ??? like grow up, elitist. you’re not better than anyone else just because you lick some boots 🥾 👅

“and claiming that self diagnosis (and this is just what I interpreted) is just as valid as professional diagnosis”

it is 😌

the only difference between self diagnosis and professional diagnosis is that a professional diagnosis can also get you medicine. not every neurodivergency needs meds and not every neurodivergency can be treated (at this time or even ever). for example, my pd (self diagnosed) doesn’t have a specific treatment but multiple symptoms of the pd (all professionally diagnosed) have specific treatments and medicines that work, so patients are given/diagnosed with/prescribed those instead. also, medicine doesn’t work for everyone! and sometimes people are allergic to or take medicines that will conflict with any new medicine.

“can really devalue the account of someone who actually has a disorder”

here we go again with that “self diagnosed” vs “actually nd” bullshit. literally just say you hate poor people n minorities and leave lol

someone having a different experience than you isn’t devaluing you, but if you’re the one who always has the spotlight maybe you should use your privledge uplift other marginalized people instead of feeling angry when everything isn’t all about you 100% of the time

“I have a second ask”

i don’t want it

“Plus it can be damaging for a person if they self diagnose wrong.”

how? what if they learn information that they wouldn’t’ve otherwise known like coping mechanisms that help them with their own neurodivergencies? that’s definitely not a bad thing

i think it’s funny that you bring up that people can self diagnose wrong and don’t even MENTION that doctors can diagnose wrong. like. you know. the people who GIVE OUT MEDICINE to people. i think it’s MUCH more dangerous when a PROFESSIONAL diagnosis is wrong. what are self-dx people with wrong diagnoses gonna do? read up on nd tips? maybe smoke some weed? drink some coffee? that’s about all they can do with a self-dx. but if a MEDICAL PROFESSIONAL gives you an INCORRECT diagnosis, they can ACTUALLY fuck you up.

“I was recently diagnosed with PTSD, a disorder which I would have never considered I’d have.”

that’s great about your professional diagnosis! i don’t know you but i’m glad you’re finding out about yourself and getting the help you want and/or need /srs

sorry if this sounds blunt, but honestly i’m not surprised you never considered you could have PTSD. based on your asks, you sound like you have a lot of internalized ableism you need to work through and a lot more research about neurodiversity you need to do. being anti-self diagnosis is a common belief among a lot of people with internalized ableism and a lot of these same people are the ones who have no issue with and even SUPPORT auti$m $peaks. many nd organizations that are run BY nd people (like asan) actually support self-dx.

“If I had of diagnosed my own symptoms and then started treating myself or taking precautions based on my self diagnosed "condition", it could of really hurt me.”

how? taking precautions to preserve your mental health is NEVER a bad idea. i’m not ptsd, but someone i care deeply about DOES have ptsd and has shared a lot of the precautions and coping mechanisms for ptsd with me and honestly they’ve been incredibly helpful. it’s almost as if different neurodivergencies and/or mental illnesses have overlap and that’s why there’s a whole community for us to be able to share these resources and information with each other!

the same person was rejected a formal autism diagnosis because of their ptsd, plus the fact that they’re transgender and the fact they have symptoms of adhd. it’s not really my place to talk about their experience with professional diagnosis, but i’ll send this post to them and allow them to add on their experience in a rb if they’re comfortable with that. but it’s almost as if their experience with the professional diagnosis process was unhelpful, harmful, ableist, and transphobic 🧐 and unfortunately this is a pretty common experience

“Also, by self diagnosing, I devalue the account of a person with the disorder l assumed I had.”

how? if someone thinks they’re nd, they have a legitimate reason for thinking so. either they have another neurodivergency than the one they thought they had, or they’re neurotypical and need to figure themself out and have a need for support. either way, they learned more about the specific neurodivergency, more about the nd community, and more about themself. i don’t see how that’s a bad thing.

if you think self-diagnosed people’s experiences inherently have less value, that is straight up ableism. especially considering that other marginalized identities and minorities have trouble getting professional diagnoses, you might also be bigoted in some other way. or at the very least, refusing to acknowledge your privilege.

“only one more I promise”

i don’t want it

“I understand that doctors are expensive and professionals can get it wrong,”

okay. if you understand this, then dm me your information so i can bill you for the cost of my professional diagnoses, the cost for my therapy sessions, the cost for my medicine, and the cost for transportation to and from all these places. PLUS the cost of the work and school i’ll be missing for these sessions. 🤲

“but self diagnosis can be really harmful to yourself or others.”

nah, you’re just ableist and a gatekeeper lol

“If you feel like you have a disorder, go see a psychiatrist, you may have it.”

[remembers when i went to a psychiatrist who diagnosed me with two major symptoms of a personality disorder and said i had other symptoms of the pd as well but refused to diagnose me with the actual personality disorder because i was a minor at the time and he told me “kids don’t have personalities so they can’t have personality disorders”. i understand being weary about diagnosing children with personality disorders because they aren’t fully developed but this dude straight up told me that i didn’t have a personality. this man literally only worked with children so that means he literally never diagnosed personality disorders. this man was literally just lazy and didn’t care about his patients. this man also refused to believe me when i told him the medicine he prescribed me made my symptoms worse and even made me hallucinate. he ignored me and refused to change my medicine so eventually i just changed psychiatrists and they put me on a new medicine that DIDNT make my symptoms worse and DIDNT make me hallucinate. also i looked it up after our session and apparently ONLY people with my pd and related ones experience hallucinations on that certain medication. it’s almost like his refusal to diagnose me and ignoring my symptoms/concerns harmed me. this man also constantly misgendered me and told me that homosexuality and transgenderism should’ve still been in the dsm. like golly, it’s almost as if being queer and neurodivergent in an extremely conservative state is harmful and dangerous. and that psychiatrists aren’t immune from being homophobic and transphobic and ableist.] but yes :) perhaps i should see another psychiatrist in this conservative state :)

“I don't want to undermine anyone's actual experiences, but it can be dangerous.”

then stop undermining people’s actual experiences :)

no ❤️

“If you feel like something's wrong, go see a professional.”

the whole point of the neurodiversity movement is that there IS no such thing as a “normal” brain, so saying that neurodivergent people have something “wrong” with them is ableist.

💰 🤲 hand it over

“I don't want to offend, I just don't want anyone to get mislead or hurt. :)”

you absolutely meant to offend. you literally said that self-diagnosed people’s experiences aren’t valid and have less value than people who have professional diagnoses

i know more people who have been (and personally have been) mislead and hurt by professionals than by simply existing as a self-diagnosed person

also i want to say that being pro-self dx is NOT being anti-professional/formal diagnosis. i think that people should absolutely get a professional diagnosis (if they are able to without negative repercussions)! being pro-self dx is more inclusive of marginalized people (like people of color, women, lgbtq+ people, people with multiple disabilities, etc). pro-self dx is simply just saying that professional diagnosis isn’t the only option

(neurotypical people and anti-self dx people don’t add anything; pro-self dx neurodivergent people are allowed to add with their experiences if they want)

[bigskydreaming]

A few people have asked me about whether its okay to reblog the post I wrote yesterday about the utter pointlessness and grossness of pitting male and female survivors against each other and why. 

Yes, go ahead, absolutely. I’m always okay with people reblogging any post I make except for anything I specifically tag as do not reblog, which is extremely rare. To be perfectly honest, the only reason I started posting about my experiences with rape and abuse at all was because when I was younger and really could have used having male survivors that I could look to even just to maintain the awareness that they were out there and others had gone through what I did....like, I couldn’t find anything like that. Not online at least, so I’d rather at least be a resource to people in the ways I wished there was someone talking about this stuff when I was younger.

Its not fun to talk about. I don’t know what people think I get out of these kinds of posts, but they’re the least reblogged and engaged with posts out of any that I make, by a LARGE margin. They don’t get me street cred or whatever, I get tons of anon hate I never post about my so-called agenda and shit, when like....literally my only stance in all the years I’ve been posting about this stuff is it really really bugs that in so many fandoms you can see a clear focus on stories about rape and abuse that get passed around and boosted like crazy, but survivors ask for signal boosts so that the people writing these stories can at the very least have more viewpoints on these matters to inform them and consider, even if they’re survivors themselves....and its crickets. Like the post I wrote yesterday? Not the first post I’ve written about that specific topic and point. Not by a long shot. But I’ve never gotten any of those posts past like, twenty notes, lol.

Like, I really can’t stress enough that I don’t make these posts for my own personal benefit. None of them say anything I don’t already know, contain information I don’t already have. Its not fun to dig up, especially when you think barely anyone is even listening, even though everyone around you is talking about the same stuff but its fine and safe to boost when its just entertainment, but god forbid people treat this stuff as REAL. And the fact of the matter is people who want to assume the worst of my intentions with these posts are going to think what they want to think, and nothing I say will ever change their minds if they think I’m just looking for sympathy or pity or milking my personal traumas or whatthefuckever. I can’t be any more sincere than like, just being sincere, lol, so if someone isn’t convinced of that there’s really fuck all I can do about it. *Shrugs*

So at the end of the day its like.....the only thing that really matters with these conversations is like....you think they matter, or you don’t. I think they matter. So I’ll keep having them even if its not particularly fun, because the simple reality is they’re going to keep being everpresent in my awareness as the subject matter of so much media and entertainment around me, and the literal only part of any of this I can control is what I do in response to that, and my choice is to just put out there what I can. But like....any ‘impact’ I have, however small, is still limited entirely to how many people engage with these conversations, even if only to signal boost them to reach more peoples’ awareness so they can at least consider angles of possibility they might not have before. So like, if you think anything I say on these subjects is of value at all, if there’s anything worthwhile in them to consider, please consider reblogging instead of just liking, because I can ONLY ever....post this stuff. Beyond that, its entirely out of my control and so how much these conversations ever get engaged with to any degree is entirely dependent on someone other than me passing it on past whatever number of people I put it in front of initially.

*Shrugs* Anyway, that’s that on that.

Just a general FYI though, I do have a ko-fi page and paypal linked if you ever consider the posts I make about this stuff worth shooting me a donation of any kind. Literally 100% of anything ever donated my way goes directly to either rent, food, or insurance or medication for my mental health and the disability caused by my gaybashing over a decade ago and that I’ve been trying to get surgery for, for about four years at this point, with constant setbacks due to a general lack of money and income dependent entirely on freelancing because my chronic pain and vertigo issues from my disability make any non work from home job basically impossible. My meds alone cost about $300 a month even using GoodRx, and like, I haven’t even begun saving for this month’s meds because everything’s gone to rent, and I’ve been out of said meds for about a week, lmao. So as much as I hate doing these kinds of posts, just a general FYI.....donations are always helpful and appreciated, but so is engagement or even just signal boosting of these topics when they come up.

Anyway, thanks for reading and hearing me out!

https://ko-fi.com/kalenp

https://paypal.me/bigskydreaming?locale.x=en_US

[sockknitterporg]

The main bulk of my suffering is directly related to the manufactured "opiate crisis" that has caused untold pain and suffering for so many millions of people for so many, many years. In this essay, I intend to place my experiences in their proper context, as one of a sharply growing series of victims of medical malpractice stemming from the fundamental shift in our society from seeing pain patients as people to be treated, to deriding them as addicts to be suspicious of.

Though it says volumes about our society that we see addicts as fundamentally 'bad' people who deserve homelessness and death instead of as human beings, often times human beings who are suffering greatly and turn to the only thing that makes life even mildly bearable. But that's neither here nor there. (For more information about addiction, see https://tinyurl.com/rat-park )

Our story begins in 1996, when Purdue Pharma (Stamford, CT, USA) released OxyContin, a sustained release oxycodone preparation that is also sold here in the UK. In the US, where such things are legal, it was aggressively marketed and promoted as less dangerous and less addictive than other opiate preparations. (Source & more information about OxyContin's marketing: https://tinyurl.com/oxymarket )

Anyone who thinks a $200 million a year marketing campaign would not spill over to the UK is more than merely obtuse, but likely willfully ignorant. The entire 'opiate epidemic' is an American import, and it started there: with an unscrupulous American company that would stop at nothing to make money.

Lulled into a false sense of security by Purdue's claims of minimal risk of addiction, doctors began prescribing OxyContin much more liberally and for much more than they originally would have. This increased availability set many people up for addiction and overdose deaths.

To most people, that is the bulk of what the 'opiate crisis' is. But there is a secondary crisis unfolding quietly behind closed doors. In the USA, there are "Don't Punish Pain" rallies that at least try to draw attention to the situation ( https://dontpunishpainrally.com ), but here in the UK we are entirely forgotten and buried under the British 'stiff upper lip' mentality. It is completely hushed up, no one talks about the fact that the pendulum has swung too far in the opposite direction. (For example: https://tinyurl.com/opiate-pendulum )

The government and/or the NHS have enforced involuntarily tapering of chronic pain patients' medication. Medication we need in order to not spend our lives screaming in agony. The pain management clinic has already warned me that it is, direct quote, "when, not if" I will find my own medication terminated, ready or not.

But there will be no 'ready'. Chronic pain does not get better with time. Chronic pain does not go into remission. If you know someone with chronic pain who appears to be 'getting better', I can promise you it is merely that the sufferer has learned to better conceal it. It's a saying in the chronic pain community, "We don't fake being ill. We fake being well."

We have learned that the average person only has about two weeks of compassion in them, after that you're treated as a freak for not getting better already, or outright accused of malingering. After all, with all of modern science, can't you just go to the doctor and get a pill and be done with it? Our concept of illness is either 'you go to the hospital, get treated, and come out okay' or 'you go to the hospital, waste away, and die'. Chronic pain patients, who never get better, but aren't actively dying, don't fit in to our society's 'concept' of illness.

People who offer to help us out for the social brownie points of helping the poor cripple soon discover that we're not going to die, we're going to continue to need help for the forseeable future. Rather than gracefully admitting that they don't have the ability to help us in perpetuity (which would be perfectly understandable!), most people choose to lash out at us, we must be abusing their kindness, they helped so we must surely be better by now. Compassion fatigue seems to hit every single human being that interacts with us, as if merely existing while disabled is wearing on their ability to remain civil. (Compassion fatigue: https://tinyurl.com/2-week-fatigue )

Doctors have even less compassion than that. In the backlash of the 'crisis', they have begun to treat anyone who complains of pain, unilaterally, as a drug seeker. And those of us already in treatment? Are addicts in need of rehab. (More examples: https://tinyurl.com/drs-no-compassion )

Despite study after study (Studies: https://tinyurl.com/no-taper ) showing that tapering chronic pain patients unequivocally causes severe harm, up to and including death, the pain management team said to my face that I am, direct quote, "addicted to heroin" and "no different from my four year old grandson, demanding a choccy biscuit because he doesn't know they'll rot his teeth. And I have to smack him and tell him NO! And I'll smack you, too, if it'll get you off those drugs!" (Somehow my complaint that a doctor had literally smacked his hands in front of my face to demonstrate that he was sincere in his threat to physically assault me.... mysteriously got lost.)

I have been denied treatment for other (non-opiate) methods of reducing my pain because, direct quote, "it doesn't matter as long as you're on those drugs, opiates actually make you more sensitive to pain in the long run, so there's no sense trying anything else if you won't get clean." They talk to me like taking my medication responsibly, as prescribed, is the same as shooting up black tar. All in the hopes of bullying or shaming me into "voluntarily" tapering.

Honestly just living under these conditions alone would be enough to snap my mental health in half, but you have to remember that I'm not only facing all of this systemic bullying and professional misconduct while also living with pain that has often been compared to late stage cancer and chemotherapy ( https://tinyurl.com/fibro-chemo ), as well as debilitating fatigue, and a shroud of fog hanging around my brain and clouding my memories and judgments (and at times, my ability to speak English). Everyone's first reaction is "did you report them? you should report them. why didn't you report them!" as if I'm too stupid to have thought of that myself. But I don't have the energy for the lengthy bureaucratic nightmare that is dealing with the NHS's administration, especially not when I could have my entire life destroyed by a doctor's bruised ego penning into my file "patient was uncooperative and combative, suspect drug abuse".

It's only a matter of time before I choose suicide over another sleepless night of laying in bed and praying for death. And when that time comes, I hope that my name is added to the long, bloodstained list of people who have killed themselves not out of any sort of depression, but because their entire existence is built on pain and suffering and enough becomes enough for the last time. Drop my body on the steps of the CDC, which is the main driving force behind the opiate witch hunt. Maybe death will at least bring me some measure of peace.

[surveys-at-your-service]

Survey #309

“show me how to lie - you’re getting better all the time  /  and turning all against one is an art that’s hard to teach.”

Have you ever played Jackbox Games? If so, which ones of their party games are your favorites? No, but I looooove watching Mark and The Boys play them on charity streams. They can make up the funniest shit. I can't recall the name of the specific one I'm thinking of... but I enjoy watching most of them. I do think one or two are boring, though. Do you have artistic friends? If so, have you got their artwork displayed? I have some very talented friends, but I don't have anything of theirs displayed somewhere. Have you ever considered pole dancing? Why/why not? No. It takes an incredible amount of strength, plus confidence I don't have. That and I'm just not into it. What's the last thing you fixed yourself? Uhhhhhhh bitch I couldn't tell ya. Are there any CDs you've held onto for sentimental reasons? No. Did you read the Barbie magazines with comics made with the actual dolls? "I didn’t know that was a real thing." <<<< Me either. What's the last thing you knitted? I've never knitted before. Who was your first online friend? Emma. :') She was the first person who joined my RP mob back in the Animal Planet forum days. Why do you take surveys? Be honest. Boredom, distraction, and sometimes I just wanna ramble about whatever. Does mail get delivered to your door or do you have a mailbox outside? Our mailbox is by the side of the road at the end of our driveway. Your doorbell rings out of the blue. What's your reaction? Let Mom answer it. I don't answer the door ever if I don't expect someone or can peek outside and don't recognize them. Are all the lamps in your home LED or other energy saving lights? I don't know. Do you prefer writing by hand or typing? Typing. I can't write very long at all before my carpal tunnel flares up. Think of one of the biggest decisions you've had to make in your life...If you made a different choice, how different would your life be now? I'd be dead, that simple. Have you ever taken a course on CPR? No. What makes you laugh most effortlessly? You can guess it pretty easily. What makes you cry most effortlessly? I make it a rule that I "can't" listen to "Eternally Yours" by Motionless In White because there hasn't been even ONE occasion where it hasn't made me cry, even when I was stupid enough to binge it because it's just a good song. I've broken that "rule" before because I do just genuinely enjoy the song, but I know the pain truly isn't worth it, so I haven't heard it in a decently long time. What is the best smell in the whole world? Cinnamon rolls, probably. My body wash is currently that kind of smell, and Jesus Christ it's the best part of showering. Do you wear a watch? No. Can you tell time from an analog clock? Yes. What a time it'll be when kids can't anymore... Is there a number or a combination of numbers that feels important to you? Only dates, but not numbers themselves. What is the most socially awkward thing you've done? *gestures at my life as a whole* Is your computer decorated in any way? No. If your old class was to have a reunion, would you attend it? No. No. I don't want to relive my high school experience; it would be too painful for me to willingly walk into. What's the worst thing that's ever happened to you? I would say "the breakup," but technically it was letting him basically own me and my every neuron of joy. Not by his will of course, but my own. I was stupid and just... handed those rights over without really realizing it. I can harp forever and ever and EVER about the importance of making sure you own yourself and your emotions. Do you ever donate money to charity? If so, which charity and why? Blah blah blah, I don't get an income, you know this. Whenever I do, I 100% plan on donating to every charity stream Mark ever hosts again, as well as some other people's. I'd love to donate to a lot of places. Would you ever want to get married? If so, why? Yes, because society has made it too instilled in me that it's just like... this ultimate validation of "forever" with your partner, even though I know you can be just as or even far more invested in your relationship without marriage. The only *true* benefit of marriage imo is for legal and financial reasons, but yeah, I still want it. Like I said, it's too deeply embedded in that brain of mine that it's a relationship goal. Why do you live the way you do? I'm not even living the way I want to, so... Have you ever abused an animal? No, and I say "fuck you" with every ounce of sincerity and loathing if you have. Do you think animals are less important than humans? If so, why? Nope. We share this earth and grew from the same roots, so what *really* makes us better? We might be smarter (generally) and more developed as the apex predator, but that does not equate to being more important than, say, even a gnat. That creature has the exact same level of rights to be here as the human species does. I could go on and on and on about this topic. How close was the last person close to you who has died? Not extremely, but she was still important to and loved by me. Grandma and I were very, very different and butted heads more than once, but her love was unconditional, and she showed boundless kindness to others. She showed a courage I see as unmatched in the face of death. I truly, deeply, in the very core of my heart hope she is at peace and experiencing all joys she ever wished for. How does death in general make you feel? Well, it depends on how I'm looking at it. I fully accept it is an inevitable phase in simply existing that none of us will ever evade, so it's not exactly terrifying to me, though of course I don't want it anytime soon. If I'm thinking about people I love dying, I definitely get sad about it and scared of that possibly eternal separation. Is there a person you absolutely loathe? If so, why do you loathe them? Not that I know personally, no. Has anyone ever told you that you're rude? If so, what caused it? No; I think I'm very mannerly, honestly. Have you ever seen a therapist? I've regularly seen therapists since I started middle school. I advocate for everyone to have one, honestly, whether you have a mental illness or not. Have you ever been homeless? In technical terms, yes, but a friend let me stay with her until Mom and I settled into a new place. Have you ever been completely broke? That's the actual story of my life. Well, not me personally considering I've never had to take care of myself financially, but my mom struggles very, very badly with this, and mind you, she's frugal. Just disgustingly underpaid when she worked, and her current status with disability isn't exactly incredibly generous. I live under her roof, so. Have you ever had a steady job? No. Have you ever needed a loan? If so, what for? Have you paid it back? Yes, for school, and no. I do NOT want to know how in debt I am with schools. Have you ever wanted to go to space? Not seriously, no. What's the weirdest thing you've ever seen or heard? I am 99.99% sure mine and Jason's old roommates were having some ~kinky~ sex once while I was alone on the couch against their bedroom. Preeeetty sure the girl was making meowing sounds. They were furries (who I want to emphasize have zero judgment from me; I actually think they're very brave and creative), so that was... something I definitely wasn't used to hearing, haha. What has been the most exciting moment of your life thus far? Probably when Mark N O T I C E D me on Tumblr by reblogging a gif I made of him and his pupper, and I LITERALLY struggled to sleep for three days lmfaoooo. How many birds can you name just by looking at them? Uhhhh a pretty decent amount, I'd say. Which birds are most common around your neighborhood? Crows, sparrows, cardinals and bluejays if you're lucky, robins... pretty basic stuff like that. What do you think is the most interesting sea creature? Octopi are absolutely fascinating with their intelligence. How do you reset your head to zero, so to speak? Take a nap. That usually works. Have you ever gone exploring an abandoned building? Yeah, I love that shit and really wish I could do it more. Bring my camera, too. Are there any foreign television shows you enjoy watching? Some animes. Do you have any clocks in your house that chime when the hour changes? Do those types of clocks annoy you? No. I actually quite like them, though. Has anyone ever let you borrow some of their music, promising you'd love it, but you really didn't? Did you lie to the person and agree, or tell the truth, that you hated it? My dad lent me his Shinedown CD once clearly without thinking I could just look up the album online, haha... He's an old clueless man, leave 'im be. But anyway, of course I listened to it for him and I enjoyed it; I especially loved "The Human Radio," "Kill Your Conscience" and "Pyro." Have you had the same doctor pretty much your whole life, or have you went to a bunch of different ones over the years? Have you ever been to the doctor thinking something was horribly wrong with you, but it turned out to be something minor? Mine has changed a few times, but I haven't had "a bunch." As for the second question, not to my recollection. Is the background on your phone a default picture, or a picture you took? What is the picture of? The lock screen is a pastel-styled list of mental health reminders: "i am strong, i am loved, i am enough." My home screen has been some adorable meerkat pups for a while, which I didn't take. What is your favorite type of print (ex: zebra, stripes, argyle)? Do you have a lot of things with this print on it? Ummmm maybe plaid? No. Are there any stores you feel uncomfortable going into (ex: if you dress girly, do you feel uncomfortable going into Hot Topic)? Are there any stores that you refuse, or just never go in to? The only situation I could think of would be a sex shop. That'd be so fuckin uncomfortable. What is your favorite brand of clothing? Is this a brand that is sort of expensive, or is it pretty affordable? I'm heavily biased towards Cloak, haha. I just support anything and everything Mark takes part it, and it's his and jacksepticeye's business. I have one shirt and it's genuinely great quality and reall comfy. I wouldn't call its products expensive, but they're not cheap, either. What person do you text the most? My mom or Sara, depending on the day. Do you have any pictures that always make you laugh, or cry? Are they digital pictures, or printed pictures? What is the significance? No. Not pictures I have anymore, at least. Have you ever eaten raw pumpkin? Omg I would never. I hate the flavor of any sort of pumpkin food. Does your car have a name? I don't have my own car, but Mom jokingly calls hers "Olivia." Who was the last person you made plans with? One of my sister's in-laws that's actually the mother of one of my closest friends contacted me to plan some family pictures. What is the rudest thing someone has done recently towards you? I can't think of anything recent. How do you feel about your hair right now? It needs to be trimmed and dyed. How fast have you driven a car? I think accidentally leaning towards 80 on a highway. When you're hanging out with friends + you become bored, do you just leave or endure the boredom? Given I can't leave without a car, I deal with it. What did you last plug into your computer? What were you doing with this? The charger for obvious reasons. What color(s) have you dyed your hair? Red, purple, black, then red, purple, and lighter brown highlights. I really wish I could dye it more and actually have the color stick... Was your first kiss perfect? It was to me. What song did you hear last? I have "Over The Mountain" by Ozzy on now. (: Does anyone have any blackmail on you? No. Have you ever walked into the guys' bathroom? HA, once during a teacher work day (my mom was an assistant) at my elementary school. My sisters and friends went in there to be little "rebels." I remember being mega confused with urinals, haha. Then as a teen and adult, I've been in the dance studio's boy's restroom as well as a church's to help Mom clean. Who was the last person you had a deep conversation with? My therapist. Are you shy? I am VERY shy. Are you talkative? Generally, no, but when I'm in a very good mood, I tend to be. Has your most recent ex ever seen you cry? Oh jeez, she saw me wail once. When was the last time you were called "cute"? I'm not sure. Would you rather be called "hot", "cute" or "beautiful"? "Beautiful." Do you have a little sister? Yep. Definitely not "little" anymore, though. About to have her Master's in social work... How many arguments have you had with the last person you kissed? Given our childhood, we've fought a lot, but mostly just as kids over very, very stupid things. As adults, we've had a serious argument once or twice and then just some very minor disagreements sprinkled in there. Do you know anyone who's been arrested? Oh yes. What're you planning on doing after this? Another survey. What time did you go to sleep last night? Damn, it wasn't even 8:00. I was EXHAUSTED and actually slept decently for once in my life. Do you like waking up to good morning texts in the morning? I mean, I'd think most people would. It's a sweet, easy way of someone showing they care and think about you. Have you left some things unsaid with a certain person? Yeah. What was the last thing that made you happy? We had syrup to add to my breakfast, haha. I don't know if these are a thing everywhere, but I looove what we just call "pancakes on a stick," which is like a corndog, but with sausage and pancake batter. Dipping it in syrup is amaaaaaaziiiiiiing. Do you like the smell of rain? I don't love it, but it's refreshing sometimes. It's mostly just associated with a bittersweet memory, so it can be triggering to smell. I know, that sounds immensely stupid. What was the last thing you took a picture of? A very, very relatable meme to show Sara, haha. She doesn't have a Facebook, so that'll do. When you go to McDonald's, what drink do you usually get? I always get a Coke. What’s the nickname of your home state? Tar Heel State, from discovering tar in the since aptly-named Tar River. Have you ever thought about your wedding? I mean duh. What’s the worse type of weather in your opinion? Hot and humid, ugh. Especially right after a summer afternoon thunderstorm. It's unbearable. You can't fucking breathe outside, and you set one foot out of the door and it's soaked. Do you have a Kindle or iPad or neither? Neither. Would you rather read or write? Write. When was the last time someone took a picture of you? The time Misty visited last month and we were taking family pictures. Would you rather see Taylor Swift or Carrie Underwood in concert? I wouldn't pay for either or even willingly go to one or the other, but if I had to go for whatever reason, Carrie. She has a beautiful voice as well as a good handful of songs I actually like. I'm not a Taylor fan; there are only like, two old songs by her I enjoy. When someone screws you over, do you get back with revenge? No. I may not be the best at adulting, but damn, I'm not that bad. Name something negative that you hate about yourself? I overthink like a motherfucker. About everything. Is there a dead end road near where you live? I live on one. Huh, that's actually been the case three times... wow. Four if you count the apartment. Who are you tired of seeing in the news a lot (celebrities)? I don't care. I don't even pay attention to the news, other than Covid updates. Have you ever had to call and complain about a product you bought? No. Name something positive you love about yourself: I care a lot about people. Can you smell anything right now? No, besides however my house naturally smells that I'm numb to. Have you spoken to a relative on the phone today? No. How does alcohol affect you? I flush in my face very obviously, and I become more outgoing and talkative. Have you ever eaten tofu and if so, did you enjoy it? I've never tried it, but I very much doubt I'd enjoy it. What was the last type of meat you ate? Pork. What colour is your toothpaste? Blue and white. Have you ever been suspended from school? No. Have you ever inhaled helium? Once, I believe. Are you a fan of Adam Sandler? Yeah, I think he's pretty funny and a talented actor. What was the last fruit you ate? An apple. A candied apple for Valentine's Day, but still an apple, haha. Have you ever watched Parks and Recreation? With Sara's family, yeah. It was fine. Have you watched a movie this week? I haven't watched a movie in many months. Have you set an alarm today? Yeah, just to ensure I was up for group therapy today. Have you asked someone for advice today? No. What was the last website you were on, other than this one? YouTube. Have you ever been to Hawaii? No, but it'd be cool. Well, thinking about the humidity... Have you watched more than an hour of TV today? No; I haven't watched television in a long time. Do you keep magazines by your toilet? No. The last time you got dressed up, where did you go? I got my makeup done and put on a dress for a Halloween "witch" shoot with my friend and some other people. The pictures pretty much don't exist because they're blurry as shit and way too dark because we left too late. I don't know why we even left the house to do it by the time everyone figured their shit out. I was really disappointed because I thought Summer made me look really, really pretty. ;_; Did the one person who hurt you the most in your life apologize? Yes, but I don't know if he really meant it. He might have just wanted me off his back, but I kinda feel now that he meant it, at least regarding how it happened. Are you proud of who you are? Only in the sense that I think I have a good heart. Otherwise, no. I've accomplished so little. Have you ever been to Costco? We don't have those here, so no. Do/did you have to wear a uniform to your high school? No, thank Christ. Only in middle school. How many video games do you own? A whole lot. Have you ever been to a casino? If so, which one(s)? No. Have you ever visited a sex shop? No. How many sets of keys do you have for your house? One. Do you give spare keys to your place to your friends and family? Our landlord/family friend has one. Then obviously my sisters do, too. Have you ever ridden a bicycle through a busy city? Oh hell no. Do you use Instagram? How often do you post there? Yes, two for each of my photography "styles." I don't post a lot myself, but I react to stuff. When was the last time you high-fived someone? I believe the last time I was at my sister's and my nephew caught a Pokemon on his first throw in Pokemon GO. He and his sister LOVE that game; that's the first thing they ask to do when I come over, haha. Their dad doesn't like it because it's "evil" (which he finds most things, really...), and it's something I could roll my eyes into the back of my head about, but I still have to respect his parenting and ask if they can play it first. He let's 'em, just not long. He also took away the Pikachu plushy I gave Aubree because it's her favorite one. :^) Guess who doesn't fuckin like him lmao. Do you like writing? How often do you write? I love writing! I don't do it very much nowadays except through surveys, though. RP is kinda on pause, so surveys is really how I just get stuff out, even if it isn't creative. Are there any posters or artworks hanging in your living room? Artwork and family photos, yes. What's your favourite place to get pizza? I'm a basic bitch that loves her some Domino's. How many times have you been to the beach? Quite a few times. We live only like two hours away, and considering Myrtle Beach is a common dance competition location, we've been a couple handfuls of instances. Has there ever been a fire inside your house? Tell me the story. No. After we moved out of my childhood house though that we actually owned, the fucking idiots who were moving in completely roasted it to pitch by setting boxes on the goddamn stove and accidentally turning it on. The house had to be entirely rebuilt. My parents were livid considering it was THEIR house. Have you ever had a scary encounter with a wild animal? No. What was the best school project you remember doing? I actually really enjoyed the huge essay I did on toxic masculinity the last time I tried college. I've always been very firm about letting men be humans and not emotionless robots, but I learned a lot more while researching and writing. Name a video game you can play over and over again: Shadow of the Colossus is #1. I've beaten it at least 30 times, maybe even 40+; it's been too long since I've seen the save files. It's a relatively short game (you can beat it in less than like, four hours if you know what you're doing) and just very relaxing yet simultaneously absolutely epic to me. God, I want a PS4 to play the remaster, like beyond words. It looks incredible, and I want to try to get white Agro. Have you ever petted a cow, a sheep, or a pig? A pig, yes. I love pigs.

[tara-l-blackmore]

Words

I've struggled with putting this anywhere. I started writing it in emails, on Twitter, on DeviantArt, even on Dreamwidth. I've stopped each time. I'm pretty sure this won't even go up, but let's see.

I'm having a lot of trouble dealing with people, right now. I'm lonely, and miserable, and yearning for friendship, but I cannot handle it. I cannot handle dealing with people, no matter how close I am to them. This includes – yes – people I consider to be family. This includes by family, even. I have lost contact with dozens of people that I’ve sworn never to lose contact with – or they have chosen to lose contact with me – and it's starting to… affect me.

All I’ve been able to do is write. I can't talk. Or if I do try to talk, I fuck it up. I have no been open with how I’ve been feeling, what I’ve been going through, and why I've avoided people I don't want to avoid. I don't want to talk about myself, so when I talk to people, once they ask about me, I end the convo or change the subject. I can't take it. I don't want to fucking talk about it.

But here we are. You're reading this, clearly, because you want to know what's wrong with me, for whatever fucking reason. Fine you want to know? Read on. If you don't? Stop reading and please stop asking me. I want to make this clear that I’ve kept this shit to myself because nobody cares about problems like I have. I think. If you're reading this, you're not nobody. Whatever, anyway.

My pain started getting worse two years ago, so I had my gallbladder removed. That was the biggest mistake of my life. I should not have done it. Because now, I’m worse off.

Since 2017, my health has been progressing into worse and worse problems, to the point that medications no longer work on me, save high doses of morphine. I'm not allowed to be on morphine, anymore, save dire emergencies in the ER (it's the only thing that stops the flare up). During these pain flare-ups, I want to die. I can't deal. I can't even think. All I can do is lie on the couch and cry, zoning out on YouTube. It's especially gotten worse since I quit smoking, but not enough to start, again.

The night I missed my niece being born, I broke. I lost it. I lost my patience with this illness of mine. I ended up missing one of the most important moments of her life, spending it in a hospital two hours away, being ignored and mistreated and mocked – and then ignored. It severed something mentally.

Since then, I haven't been okay.

I've ruined my own birthday, twice; the day of was spent sobbing over vaccinations. The day of the party was spent in misery, because the party had nothing to do with me – I was being used as a ruse to make it about Ellie – and when I left, the party went on without me – what I thought was the entire idea, that I'd been used for these reasons. And to be honest, I still don't know what happened after I left, because no one told me. No one thought to. No one cared enough to, it felt to me.

I started drifting more and more away, only now by people I speak to online, either through chat or phone calls. I stopped being able to deal with talking to people one-on-one, because emails gave me time to think about what I had to say, instead of speaking on the fly and hurting people. Only it still didn't work.

My depression was also getting worse. I needed more and more attention, more reassurance, in a world that is more and more making me feel adrift and left behind. When I was able to catch up, I merely discovered how much I kept missing, how happy people are without me around their ankle. I realised how many people I’ve been holding back for years, and it almost killed me.

I tried to explain it to those people I ignored, tried to explain that I’m broken, I’ll never be what they deserve or need, and that they need to walk lest I keep fucking them up further. I tried, but whatever I said was overlooked because I was a good person before now. I keep trying to explain that I’m not a good person, anymore, because the pain is making me insane, and I don't know how to deal with people, anymore, but… nobody's listening to me…

So this is my last try. This is what I should have said when any of you started to be my friends. Look at the people who've already walked, and you'll notice that I’m the common bad variable, and nothing else. I know that many of you want me to hang around because of what I was once like. And honestly, I miss what I was like back then, too.

But then, June 2017. It was the start of the end. The injections. The dozens and dozens of ER tests and humiliation and abuse. The money and ignorance of the hospital staffs (when told what to do to help and how fast it would help me if they just did it). People online, people offline, seeing me disabled and seeing a brat.

Over the past four years, I’ve been a part of the Undertale fandom, a game that saved my life and a fandom that kept me living, and I met so many of you, cared about so many of you – but somehow shoved you all away. The more you cared, the more I ran away.

Why? Because I deserve to be alone.

I've said this, many times, in different ways, but I’m told I’m wrong, when I’m right, and it hurts. So I stopped talking. I made it obvious that I’m not worth your time.

Because I didn't want to explain what was going on.

My medications aren't working, anymore, so they keep switching them. Now, they're switching my antidepressant, and it's… bad. It's very bad. I have to taper off my current med, then start from scratch with the new one, and the decrease is making my depression stronger. I haven't been able to speak on the phone or even go out (save mandatory doctor visits), and I keep taking everything personally and crying over everything. Three times, I’ve convinced myself that Terry is going to divorce me. It's bad.

Because of it, I don't know what's up or down, what's true or false, and no matter how much I trust someone, I still feel like all I am is someone to be pitied, and I would rather never be pitied, but either loved for who I am, or hated for that same reason.

And that's because I hate myself for feeling this way. I have been secluding myself to both punish myself and prove to you all how unreliable and gross I am.

A lot of you are younger than me, and have enough to deal with. I'm also aware that a lot of you are young enough to make your own decisions, especially when it comes to people. But what I’m doing is inappropriate. The things I complain and beg advice for are not appropriate. I treat you like shrinks, forgetting your age and your own lives and problems and issues.

It makes me sick, my selfishness. And I can't fucking deal with it.

So I’ve been staying away, save angry tweets and angrier YouTube comments. The rare times I reach out usually end worse off than when I did before I reached out, so I have learned not to.

And finally, for the very last time, I must say this: I know I am immature, I am stunted, I am behind the times, and I cannot fix it. I try to, by using all of you like the scumbag I am, and not bothering to listen to you or help you. I cry my problems, then run away the second you need me.

I'm so tired of it. I can't do this to people, anymore. I've been trying to gradually disappear, save stuff that keep me sane (fanfic and comics), and while many of you keep me sane, I’m tired of using you that way, too.

I know this is me mind-reading, as many of you will say. But, I’m sorry, this isn't that at all. This is me paying attention to what is being said and shown to me, and now, I get it.

Please, please, please stop insisting this isn't so. The fact that every time I mention it, it's left ignored, and often shamefully so, and that angers me. I pour my heart out, explain, answer the questions I’m being asked but it's ignored, only so that I can be asked for help that I just finished screaming myself raw that I can't help anyone the way I am, anymore.

My brain refuses to listen to kindness, anymore. It refuses to accept that anyone wants to bother with me, because on one hand, I’ve been given shameful proof that I’m absolutely right in my sad assessment. But on the other, I’m aware that a few of you are sincere, and do mean what you said.

But I can't tell the difference. I need help. I need real help, a kind that I need before I can even dream of being a good friend or a kind person to any of you. I can be nice, be complimentary, be honest in my affection and happy feelings for you, and all is sincere. But I have deep difficulty believing the same from you, to me, because of my pain and my depression. I know many of you with depression understand.

But why don't you give up on me…? Why can't you see that I’m right, that I don't blame you for giving up on me, because all I’ve been is a disgusting person, even at my most well-meaning.

I don't even know why I’m bothering posting this, here. I don't know why I’m posting it. I just think it's time to put words to feelings I couldn't put words to, before now.

I'm not trying to be friendless. But I’m trying to be worthy of friends. So far, I cannot see myself there, yet. So many of you have a real life to live, true futures within your grasps; what the hell are you doing still talking to some middle-aged pathetic loser and wasting your time on the internet that way? There are better places to visit on the internet than any place to do with me, personally.

I get wanting to want to read my bullshit stuff. I'm flattered. But no, you don't need to be my friends, no matter how pathetic or lonely I am. That's my problem, not yours. You are all young, and happy, and have your own hurdles to overcome. I write that stuff to provide an escape for you and for me. That's all that you need to know about me, really.

I'm not saying that you cannot be my friend anymore. I'm not saying you're not allowed to speak to me. I am saying that it might take me time to answer, or to do what you asked of me, etc. I am saying that thanks to my increasing mental illness, I am no longer a good person to be around, at least until the problem is rectified.

I actually don't know what I’m saying, honestly. I don't want to be alone, but I’m tired of bothering people who do. I don't like spending my days alone, but I don't want to harass people with better things to do. I'm tired of being what no one wants and tired of being unwanted once people discover the real me.

I'm a garbage person. I hate myself.

And you deserve not to have that in your life.

That's all.

I'm sorry.

[fivedollarradio]

This kind of blew up on Reddit yesterday, and i can understand why:

I don't think having mental health issues is bullshit, or being disabled, or even non-binary/trans. I'm boring-ly progressive.

But I don't think these people are actually any/all of these things. It feels like theatre, and I have been trying to figure out why.

There’s a pretty obvious pattern: disabled but invisibly so, queer in some vague way, disorders that occur on a spectrum, etc. Things with vague symptom profiles or can’t be detected with a scan or blood test. It’s not outright lying; you could have those things, but it hasn’t exactly been determined that you don’t. And it isn’t always young people either, though I think the collapse of traditional subculture has precipitated the rise in these other identities, but these new identity groups that function in a lot of ways like being emo or goth did a generation or two ago have political import. I sincerely doubt I’d be put in Twitter jail for accusing someone of not being goth enough. 

Comment from another sub:

I think they are stretching the limits of what could constitute "queerness" or "trauma" or "disability" in order to squeeze themselves into the Cool Kids Group. Because humans are nothing if not desperate to be accepted and valued, and social justice is trendy these days.

I think it’s less about wanting to squeeze yourself into the “cook kids: group as much as it is a way to legitimatize pain, especially in environments that prioritize marginalized identities. If you’re too privileged, you’ll never understand my suffering,therefore, you should just shut up. Also, that kind of thinking forces self-disclosure, which some people may or may not want, (I don’t like airing my problems online.) If you haven’t publicly claimed an oppressed identity, then you must be privileged. 

[jerriisspeakingnow]

1. the term "on the autistic spectrum" is ableist and this should b common sense. 2. autistic people are allowed to be sexual. your Whole Adult Ass is lame as hell for saying yr gonna ""smite"" other autistic people for jokes they made about it. we're already desexualized enough by allistics--we don't need you forcing the same ableism on us

…really…..😓

1. My twin sister is autistic, diagnosed as “Autistic Spectrum Disorder Level 2 - Formerly Known as ‘Aspergers’” according to the papers given to us by the Psychologist. Me saying “on the autistic spectrum” has never been corrected even by a close friend of mine who works as an Applied Behavioral Analysis Therapist (ABA Therapist) and works with autistic children. If it needs to be corrected now SO BE IT, I’ll correct my speech starting now - even though I hold a Bachelors Degree in Psychology (from a program that is both one of the Top 10 colleges in my state and in the Top 10% in the United States), and I’m currently working on my Masters Degree in Clinical Mental Health Counseling - yet even through all of this when I’ve brought up my sister and asked questions to educate myself and clarify my coursework, no one has corrected me until right now. So, I will correct my speech because apparently it must be that every single one of my classmates and college professors around me must just not know the correct terminology despite their education, and it’s totally possible my friend - who, again, works as an ABA Therapist and directly works with children and their parents - just doesn’t know how to address children, even though she worked on her education/her master’s degree for YEARS. (ABA Therapy seemed like something I would think a lot of people who are diagnosed early on in their life would know about, but maybe that’s my assumption and I shouldn’t assume.)

2. From both my perspective and those around me who saw the post - the post I’m assuming you came from that I removed my comment on because people thought it was fun/funny to screenshot and mock me for being frustrated and disgusted and ready to “smite” those who I was upset with, the one I purposely choose to quietly disengage from the situation entirely (like an adult), the one that had screenshots with fetishizing language like “pumping autistic cum” and stating the “disability” is attractive (I’m now using that word since you accused me of being “ableist”) - I have every right to be upset if I feel like someone would fetishize a community that’s already held at a disadvantage in general society, or tried to fetishize someone I loved - especially if that’s my twin sister.

3. What part of my comment was aimed at “other autistic people” for “being sexual”…? I’d really like to know what you thought was aimed at “other autistic people” because I’m confused. For me, it’s a general statement to people fetishizing and mocking the “disability” (again, using your word, as I have never told my sister she had a disability in her life) The general people from where I live still believe the most absolute ignorant things about how autism is caused and how it is developed, so if you took it wrong I will sincerely apologize. However, I have every right to defend my family and friends, especially when I know someone I love is uncomfortable and upset. You don’t have the right to tell me I’m wrong in that regard when I never said people with autism can’t be sexual or stated “it’s a disability”. I NEVER ONCE SAID THAT, and you are putting words into my mouth.

You didn’t need to come at me like this. For you to call me ableist, when you don’t know mine and my sister’s story, and how I - the so called “ableist” - got pulled into this community and am now tied to it for life, is truly ignorant and really distasteful when you don’t even know the full story, and discrediting and tearing down the chance for anyone to be educated in the first place by being hateful.

All I’ll tell you is this: My sister will have barely known about her diagnosis for 5 years by the end of August. We were barely 22 years old when we found out. Do you know what that’s like? To find out you’re “clearly different” and suddenly be told the reason you’ve always felt so different than the rest of your siblings is because of something you never knew about? (< Those are my sisters words) - No, you probably don’t, it’s highly uncommon to be diagnosed so late in life.

Other than that? All I’m going to say now is I hope you have a good and well life. Because again, you don’t know our story and what we’ve been through.

(Oh, and I’m not looking for answers. I stand confidently knowing I am a good person who cares for my sister and feels comfortable knowing I am her BIGGEST supporter.)

EDIT:

Since I feel like it’s necessary to defend myself and I have to prove my point, let me show you why I do not think I’m wrong (See below for sources.)

https://journals.sagepub.com/doi/pdf/10.1177/1362361315588200

- From the abstract of this 2015 study: “The most highly endorsed terms were ‘autism’ and ‘on the autism spectrum’, and to a lesser extent, ‘autism spectrum disorder’, for which there was consensus across community groups.”

https://www.autism.org.uk/what-we-do/help-and-support/how-to-talk-about-autism

- This link has a list of things “to say” which includes: “is on the autism spectrum,” “person/child on the autism spectrum (note: this is informed by research, which indicates that there is a growing preference for positive identity first language, particularly among autistic adults),” and “has an autism diagnosis”

https://www.liebertpub.com/doi/10.1089/aut.2020.0014

- This has a list of “ableist language” to avoid and “better/preferred alternatives” and oh look!: from the ‘potentially patronizing first person language’ to “on the autism spectrum”; OR this quote here “Research on Australian samples has shown that autistic people rated the terms “autistic,” “person on the spectrum,” and “autistic person” significantly higher than “person with autism,” “person with ASD” (autism spectrum disorder), and “person with ASC” (autism spectrum condition).”

These are from the United Kingdom and Australia, with other resources to scholarly/credible references that are based in the United States.

…so please tell me how I’m being “ableist” if these articles are pieces of research showing the preferred terminology among large samples from the community that I am not apart of?

Please, I’d like to know how.

[cosmicapproachart]

Hi, I just wanted to say what an inspiration to me you are!! I love your art!!! you have such an amazing grasp on colors and backgrounds and I love all your characters!! Its really amazing to see another disabled artist like myself who is so talented!!! Do yoU have any advice about being a disabled artist you could share with me?

first of all, thank you so much!! I teared up reading this message, I’m so glad my art could inspire you… ;o; and thank you for giving me such wonderful comments on my characters and work!!! it’s my dream to be able to inspire others, especially other disabled artists…

I’M SO GLAD TO HEAR YOU’RE MAKING ART TOO, NEVER STOP!! that’s my biggest advice really is just, keep going. I BELIEVE IN YOU!!! I specifically deal with severe chronic migraines and degenerative joints (plus other chronic lyme disease symptoms), and depression/anxiety, tho more specific advice definitely depends on what you’re personally dealing with, this is stuff that’s helped me!!

take care of your body!!

it’s important to draw to improve but what’s even more important is to treat yourself right!! this can be anything, from practicing a good joint care routine, getting physical aides to assist with drawing, remembering to drink water, and most commonly, letting your body rest when you need to! educate yourself by looking up specifics of your symptoms and what you can do to supplement those issues while drawing! my wrists actually used to dislocate and hurt a lot worse than they do now, all bc I wasn’t properly resting or taking care of them with good habits.

don’t compare or hold yourself to other’s standards!

this is really huge!! all artists are different anyway, but especially when you’re disabled, it can be really harmful to your mental state to keep comparing yourself to others and thinking you aren’t doing enough. you’re doing a ton just pursuing your passion and dealing with chronic pain/disability!!!! remember your circumstances and that your art is valuable and push on!! I would often see a lot of artists talk about how it’s okay to pursue your art and have a job to pay the bills, and I’d feel bad bc my health would never let me feasibly do both those things. so, I did my best, keep going forward and improving, took commissions, and now I’m going to be doing an art-related job that fits my health needs!! never push yourself to do things that aren’t right for you just bc it’s right for other artists.

and finally, just keep going!!

NO MATTER WHAT!! this doesn’t mean draw everyday even if it hurts, or that you need to work harder than others– it just means that in the end, don’t lose the hope in your heart! no matter how much you can draw, or how skilled you perceive yourself, keep going, keep making stuff!! by making art alone, you’re already winning. making it in the first place is legitimately the most difficult step!!

I sincerely hope this helps!!!! I’ve been dealing with my disability issues for a long time now and beginning to draw and make characters really helped channel some of the anger fear, and other strong emotions I felt bc of it. keep going, draw for you, and find your place in the world my friend!!!!! ❤❤❤

[restoringsanity]

Wait, I don't understand your last post. Are you saying ages don't matter because you can change them? Because I agree with you but then you just stated basic stuff about how authors and creators choose the character's age and how they act and stuff and ??? I thought that was common knowledge??? Do antis think you can't change a character's age? And if so, why?

The post that prompted this ask.Disclaimer: This is looong. Also, it’s observational. I refer to science, but I’m not a scientist. I’m open to critique and correction.#1 Intro#2 Explanation#3 Examples & CounterArgument#4 Scientific Basis & Implications; SociologicalContext#5 Final Statement#1 Intro

Allow me to assure you that I am very happy you don’t fullyunderstand the purpose or necessity of my last post – I don’t meanto condescend or patronize, at all. I am sincere. It means that,perhaps, you haven’t yet been exposed to a certain brand of ‘logic’that I’ve been exposed to. If any of what I said seems obvious toyou, then you grasp a concept that is diffcult to process for some,and that some consider problematic for reasons that are beyondcreative.#2 Explanation

„you just stated basicstuff about how authors and creators choose the character’s age andhow they act and stuff and ???“

I’ll try to be as specific aspossible. The problem does not lie with the original creators per se,but how transformative media handles the characters in question –how fanart/fanfiction treats the characters. A number of peoplechoose to consider the original creator’s intention and theirspecific configurations for a character to be untouchable, even intransformative media. I don’t exactly have a strong position on this,to some degree – although I believe that transformative mediainherently strives to be what’s on the label: transformative. That’snot entirely the point I was trying to make, though. It’s yet morespecific.

„I thought that was common knowledge??? Do antis think youcan’t change a character’s age? And if so, why?“

Yes. Some do,in fact, think so. I’ll first try to present their reasoning in anunbiased fashion, then offer my own perspective on it.Changingthe age of a fictional character, or 'ageing them up’, especially ifthey’re underage – is 'predatory’. It’s supposedly akin to waitingfor someone to 'become legal’ in the real world. #3Examples & Counter ArgumentA real-world example:

Afamous teenage starlet is being fawned over by (adult) fans. Theyexpress the idea that they can’t wait for them to finally reach theage of majority, so that it will be legal for them to pursue thestarlet in a sexual manner.Their desire is direct, real, andaimed at the person (actual, real person) in question. One might betempted to conclude that their desire and attraction are of adivergent variety.

To contrast the real-world example, I’lloffer one that deals with a fictional character:

A fictionalteenage character is being fawned over by (adult) fans. They expressthe idea that they would like to 'age them up’ in their own work, forvarious reasons. The reasons might be a) their personal level ofcomfort b) an interest in developing the character further and pasttheir 'canon’ age c) personal preference, and many more. Theirintention might involve putting the character in sexualscenarios.Their desire is indirect, projected, and focused on anidea, rather than a person (actual, real person). Still, one might betempted to conclude that their desire and attraction are of adivergent variety.

To summarize; the idea is that the age of afictional character bears as much meaning and weight as the age of areal person, and any implications concerning the people expressing adirect or indirect desire for them are judged and measured equally,on equal terms.Now, I’ll proceed to present my counterargument.1. Firstly, acknowledging the questionable moralityof pursuing an underage person (actual, real person) and waiting forthem to reach the age of majority isn’t predatory. It’s actingaccording to law, and according to a codex of morals that has beenagreed upon by – at the very least – a considerable portion ofsociety. Desire itself isn’t inherently predatory. Desire is acomplex emotion. It manifests, and demands, but it does not enable,and it does not force. Expressing desire is just that – anexpression. Attraction isn’t a form of compulsion. It’s a form ofwanting, and wanting something or someone doesn’t automatically implyaction. Wanting is inaction. Having is action. These two are notinterchangeable.2. Secondly – and we’re dealing with thefictional example now – age in fiction does not automatically havethe same function and implication as it does in real life. Acharacter does not age on their own. They are not born. They do notgrow on their own. They are incapable of making experiences on theirown. They do not exist. They’re not real. They are decidedly,unquestionably, indubitably, demonstrably not real. They arenot you, they are not like you, they are not anyone,they are not. They’re an idea, a concept, a canvas foryou to project onto. Here’s where I’ll have to get a little (or alot) more general to further emphasize the point I’m making.#4Scientific Basis & Implications; Sociological ContextAny(direct) effect a fictional character or concept may have on you is aconsequence of you – it’s a consequence of the experiences you’vemade, how you process and experience their actions, their inactions,and the identifiers they’re presented with. In other words, how youprocess ideas and concepts, and how (much) they affect you  isdirectly connected to how you process most type of thought. It istied in with your level of maturity, your ability to differentiatebetween what’s real and what isn’t, and how well you deal withcompulsion and suggestion. It is veryimportant to understand this. If the existence, mention or suggestionof an act is enough to convince you to commit the act – youabsolutely need some form of (temporary) assistance. I’m decidedlynot being snarky, and I’m not exaggerating.The human brainhas (as far as we’re aware of) at least two components that deal withcreating, experiencing and evaluating impulse, and exercisingcontrol. The limbic system – in simplistic terms – deals withemotion and instinctive behavior. It acts in tandem with theprefrontal cortex, which deals with integration of memory content(experiences), evaluation of emotion, and planning of action. Theprefrontal cortex is also referred to as „SupervisoryAttentional System“ (SAS).Any claims denying people of aninherent level of agency and control over their actions disregard –to some extent – two integral parts of our brain. Damage to theprefrontal cortex may lead todifferent evaluation of impulses or sensory input, but not any givenindividual has suffered damage to their prefrontal cortex or had itdevelop differently in the womb. Of course, science is still verymuch in the process of studying the brain, and we know a merefragment of what there is to know. We do know, though, that what weperceive as morals and ethics and how 'good’ or 'bad’ a person mightappear to be, is also tied in with the biological development andbiochemical processes in their body (and brain, specifically).Thefollowing I had to preface with all this, so I can reallyhammer in the concept I’m trying to get across, and that people needto understand.Whenyou state that fiction affects reality, you need to understand whatyou’re saying. You’re saying fiction affects people.Yes – it does. But to what degree? Your understanding of thissubject needs to be nuanced.Here’swhat I stated earlier:

„If the existence, mention orsuggestion of an act is enough to convince you to commit the act –you absolutely need some form of (temporary) assistance.“

Whyis that? What might compel me to make such a claim? It’s the merefact that – if you can’t tell fiction from reality, and fictiondirectly affects you to a degree that disables your agency and allbut forces you toimitate, emulate, recreate or copy fictive concepts, then – in verysimple terms – your brain might not be working quite right, and itmight very well be an issue that is deserving of attention. Ifyou’re affected by the active and passive 'experiences’ ( – thesituations they’re put in) of a fictional character thatsupposedly/allegedly/apparently represents a concept that is similarto your actual experiences to a degree that causes you immensediscomfort, you may want to investigate your situation and reconsiderthe content you expose yourself to. Or in anon-run-on-sentence-format: If, for example, Fictional Character Asubjects others to harm, or is being subject to harm, and thataffects you to an immenselyuncomfortably degree, then you mightwant to talk to someone about it.The prerequisite for peoplebeing affected by fiction to an unhealthy, dangerous andharmful degree, is for themto start out affected, or unhealthy. It’s a mental health issue. Youneed to understand who you need to protect, and from what. If youwant to protect those who are affected by fiction to an unhealthy,dangerous and harmfuldegree, your activism needs to focus on mental health (issues), andnot on censorship. This is a tested, tried and true cop-out ofsociety. We notice a problem, and our approach starts out – andoften further remains – symptomatic. Because it’s significantlyeasier, and it doesn’t require the ability of complex thought.Pregnant teens? Tell them to stop fucking. Criminal youth? Makean attempt at discouraging crime by establishing harsher penalties.Kids shooting up schools? Blame just about everything other than asystem that treats the mentally ill as a nuisance and paints them aspotentially violent offenders; a system that is uncomfortablewith mental illness. Someone was sexually assaulted? Well – whatdid they wear?Additionally, I’m being very specific about thedegree of being affected that I consider worthy of attention. Havinga reaction to fiction is more often than not (– I’d even argue: inall cases) the desired effect. Having an immense, intense, unhealthy, dangerous and harmful reactionis not the desired effect.#5Final StatementNowthat I’ve established a staggering amount of context, I’ll saythis:If, in allhonesty, you believe that 'age-ing up’ a fictional character is inany way, shape or form 'predatory’, or harmful to anyone, youabsolutely, absolutelyneed to re-evaluate your position. You are part of many problems, andyou’re likely unaware of it.So– my dear anon, do you understand now why I need to be as specificand excruciatingly obvious as I can be? Why I need to state theabsolute common, trivial and generally understood? It’s becausecritical thought is a rare good (in some parts of tumblr), and that’sa problem.

[james-bionic-barnes]

Update Part 2

A Heads-Up

Okay so, again I’d like to point out that I’m writing this at 4 in the morning so it’s definitely still sincere, but no one is going to see this if I post it at the time I’m writing this so this post (and probably even some asks) will be queued, but whatever I say in them I still definitely mean, I just want them to be seen & not be lost because of the time I’m posting them. Also, I’m going to divide this up a little bit through titles just so it’s easier to skip to the important parts because I’m probably going to ramble & type a lot in this, & I do want those who care to see my explanation as to what happened. Please AT LEAST read the TL;DR near the bottom (after the ‘read more’ link, that is) so that you can avoid my stupid rambling, but know briefly what happened.

My tentative plan is to be active tomorrow & respond to messages (& to any of my friends who might be reading this, I’m sorry that I’m not responding but I don’t want to do so at almost 4 am my time.) However, I am in an area that might be possibly affected slightly by Hurricane Harvey so if I lose power due to storms, I’ll respond on my phone as much as I can, although it’ll take me longer to type out the long messages that I’d like to, but when I’m free (I’m currently in the midst of unpacking & getting ready for school) I’ll respond as much as I can, since obviously, everyone deserves that.

The ‘read more’ link below starts with my actual explanation as to what happened to me & why I was gone for so long. If you read it, or even just skim it (which I’ll understand because I want to let people know what happened, & there IS a TL;DR near the bottom), I hope you understand. But no matter what, I love & appreciate you all <3

What Happened (in as few words as possible, which is still a lot)

So about right after I hit 3k & posted how I wanted to celebrate, I stayed offline for a bit because I was hanging out with family, with full intent to get back on & host a celebration for 3k followers & continue conversations with my friends as always, and ask everyone for opinions on what I should write next. About right after posting my last post, my family got into a tight spot financially, both my parents & as well as my sister & her husband. Obviously, we were all stressed about it despite the fact we knew we were probably going to be okay. But it was a major stress not knowing if my sister was going to be able to pay for groceries or not. Eventually, we got mostly out of that, however, but my stress didn’t really go away.

All summer I’ve been packing and getting ready to move to an apartment close to where I go to school, along with my mother moving in to help me. Even though I was extremely excited at the idea of decorating my own apartment and being closer to the school campus that I love, I was (and still am, honestly) extremely stressed about it. Even though I have my mom with me, the rest of my family (my sister & her husband, and my dad) are back home. But the entire process took forever (as moving does) and I just got more stressed as time went on since I was worried about not getting everything done. That, compounded with my regular stress and anxiety just snowballed on me and made my mental health take a nose-dive. I barely did more than stay in bed and sleep, or just marathon shows I’ve seen before just to let my brain rest a bit and get away from the stress.

I had a brief good period during late July - I celebrated my birthday as well as my mom’s, and I spent a lot of time with family and relaxed a bit. But then my sister began to have issues at work - and I mean issues. She works at the entrance desk of a psychiatric hospital. She deals with visitors before they are allowed back to visit patients, and obviously, there are mandatory requirements before you are allowed back. When a particular woman wasn’t allowed back, she began to physically threaten my sister, & attacked her verbally right in the lobby while my sister’s boss just stood there. The woman has returned twice and each time threatened my sister’s life and continued to attack her verbally and insult her, as her boss does nothing to help. On top of all this, my sister is pregnant with her first child - clearly, this isn’t an environment for her to be in if she’s possibly going to be threatened or hurt. Thankfully, she’s quitting, and hopefully she’ll find another job soon, since it’ll be tight financially for her again, but we’re praying everything works out.

But the biggest personal cause of stress has been school - I start Monday, and although I am now *mostly* moved into my apartment, I still feel under prepared. Not to mention that there was a screw-up in my financial aid process so I’ve been worried about that even though it’s probably fine. Still, school is my biggest source of stress, so now that it’s starting again I’m worried of it getting too much again like last time. Hopefully, since I’m in a different environment this year (with my mother & cats in an apartment, & not in a tiny dorm), my health (both physical & mental) should be better off as I have a lot more ways to cope with it. As some of you might know, I’m physically disabled & have chronic pain, so last year’s dorm situation was not ideal for my health. But now that my living situation is different, I guess I’ll just have to see how everything goes.

The longer I was away (and obviously, I’ve only “come back” just recently, if you can even say that), the worse I felt about tumblr & getting back on - I figured that since I hadn’t posted much writing before I left, if I came back saying that I might not be able to write for a while, I’d just be met with anger. Which, I admit, is a complete discredit to my followers - all of you that I’ve interacted with have been absolute sweethearts, and completely understand. But still, my anxiety got the better of me, and it just spiraled. And I especially felt like shit when it came to the idea of talking to my friends again - since I left every one of you hanging, I just felt like I’d immediately come back to not wanting to talk to me anymore. Which, even though I haven’t been able to speak to anyone yet, I still think it’s a complete discredit to you as well, since every single friend I’ve made on here has treated me with complete & utter kindness & love. And I’ve always made it a point to be kind to people and to always work to be the best friend I can be - which, clearly, I have not been doing AT ALL. I’ll talk to each one of you, I promise, and hopefully everything can be worked out and I can finally apologize to you, too, since each one of your friendships mean an incredible amount to me and I don’t want to lose any of them.

TL;DR - Why I Was Gone

tight financial situations with my family

moving to an apartment for school

school starting soon/financial aid mess up

my sister being threatened and her job & her financial situation now that she’s quitting and expecting her first child

worry that once I came back after being gone for so long, I’d just be met with anger and every one of my friends dropping me

My anxiety just making everything seem so much worse than what it’s probably is going to be, especially when I think of coming back & talking to my friends

& my mental health has been absolute shit since I left and until I get everything worked out here, it’s still probably going to be.

Apology (& this is the last thing, I promise)

So if you at least read the tl;dr, you got a brief idea of what happened to me and why I dropped off the face of the earth again. Despite all of what happened couldn’t exactly be avoided, and that I’m still accepting the fact that I’m allowed to not be okay, even if it’s for a longer period than I would want to, I still am so sorry I disappeared. Believe me, every day I was gone I was so torn about coming back and would go to the login page but would just psych myself out since I was so scared of the backlash I might be met with due to my anxiety causing me to worry about it. I thought of all of you & would read a bunch of my favorite fanfics of all of my friends just to help make me feel better when I had really bad days. But I’m sorry I never actually responded to anyone (that is, until I start to tomorrow, but my apology will still apply), & that I feel completely horrible for, and I don’t think I can get that across in few enough words to not sound pathetic or just to not make this post any longer. But I want everyone to know that I’m sorry for vanishing like that and for any hurt I may have caused during all of this.

After seeing tomorrow (I guess later today, technically?) what some of the reactions are to this, hopefully some of my stress will be a bit lifted about the anxiety of returning back here. Once school starts (and the actual true work starts, not just the opening week) and I find my routine, I plan to figure out exactly how active I can be. At the very least, I plan to be on as much as possible & respond to everyone & reblog, but I’m not sure yet how writing is going to go. If I’m able to, I might just start off with a drabble or two, maybe a one-shot. It all depends on how much free time I have after school starts and how I’m dealing with the stress. For now, I’m back on a writing hiatus (not that I was off of one much before I disappeared) but I’ll see what happens after all this settles down.

I’m still recovering, and a few of these issues are still ongoing, and obviously, mental health is always going to be a struggle for me, and whatever happens is pretty much unavoidable - it’s life, after all. But still, I ask that everyone is patient with me as I respond to asks and messages when I can. I promise I’ll get to everyone. I just need to get back up, and it might take a bit, but I’m going to work to get better, both with figuring out how active I can be, and as well as keeping myself healthy at the same time. For the meantime, I’ll queue up a couple of asks and maybe a few reblogs to appear after this, just so the most recent thing on my blog isn’t this mess.

Regardless of how people react to this, I am sorry about what happened. But I’m thankful for each and every one of you, and I hope that everything can kind of go back to where it was eventually. It’ll just take time, but I’m willing to work toward it if you all are. The people I interact with and the space I’ve created on here for myself (and hopefully, for others, too) has always been a place of love and support for me. It’s not something I ever take for granted - so thank you for all that you’ve done. I love you all <3

Sincerely,

Kathrynn

[billgavemeextrachips]

Reasons I don’t want to see my extended family at the holidays

1. I can’t, in good conscience, just “let it slide” or “agree to disagree” with the horrible things they say. I’ve read articles online about families being polarized or split apart over politics, and they all seem to bemoan some bygone era when people just didn’t talk politics in polite company. But you know what? That’s not an option anymore. I’m a queer, disabled woman- my life is political. Our culture shoves politics in everyone’s faces- from Facebook to the NFL. (The latter was politicized when they started glorifying the military, years before the police brutality protests began. Please note that I support taking a knee and don’t find that to be ‘making things political” when that venue already was.) Also doesn’t help that my grandfather loudly complains about every Indian-American and Latino he comes into contact with. I am not even kidding. How do I even suggest to them that we “just not talk about it” without censoring my grandfather, and putting myself back in the closet?

2. I can’t argue back, either. I tried having “friendly debates” with an aunt for two years (2014-2016.) Dozens of times, I left Panera or a high school guard competition, loudly declaring to my mom on the ride home that I like talking politics with her sister! It’s fun right!?!?!? I’m so glad at least *one* conservative in her family will listen to my views without belittling me for being young and naive and over-educated, or just plain shouting me down!!! (Shows you how much the rest of her family respects me, that I interpreted basic human politeness and refrains from ad hominem attacks as this amaaazing show of compassion from my aunt.) Meanwhile I had an elevated heart rate for hours after these “fun” debates, and spent days thinking of all the things I should have said better. And all that effort for what? My aunt still supported Trump from the very beginning of the primaries- and brags about it. She still thinks the Klan in her county are just harmless, senile old eccentrics, and all taxes are robbery.

And attempts to have discussions with other members of the family have resulted in me fleeing the scene, physically shaking, ending up at a complete loss for words, and even self-harming. All for none of them- not even the “nice, fun” one- to budge an inch. My breaking down and failing to articulate a point to these people can’t possibly be helping any progressive/tolerant causes. If anything it’s hurting the causes. Along with my mental health.

3. When the take-a-knee protests came up in conversation last Sunday, I was physically afraid of my grandfather. He’s 81, but he’s still this 6′, barrel-chested man who does most of the maintenance on his own properties. I’ve never heard him yell so loud, or so deep. Above the clamor of half a dozen people shouting me down at once, in the dark around that campfire, what stands out to me was him growling, right next to me, Now you listen here! That’s not something you say to someone you’re even remotely open to listening to. That’s a command. Almost a threat. And maybe I’m a coward for being afraid of just that, when he hasn’t raised a hand to me since I was a toddler. But then call me a coward.

The truth is, if I had a girlfriend/wife/family of my own, and/or lived far enough away, I would have stopped spending time around my grandfather years ago. My parents tried once. Back in 2002, when we announced we were adopting from China my grandfather was my father’s (his son-in-law’s) employer. And his response to finding out he’d have another grandchild, who happened to be brown and born on the other side of the world?

“Well we’re not putting her on the company health insurance.”

He did not budge on that until he met my sister- a year and a half later. In the meantime, we moved hundreds of miles away, only to come crawling back when unlucky circumstances and plain bad financial decisions pushed my parents into bankruptcy. They felt they couldn’t make it, living that far from my mother’s parents. Not emotionally, and certainly not financially. 

I doubt my grandfather has ever apologized for his response to us adopting. He doesn’t do apologies. What he does do, and always has, is pay for family members’ houses and cars and medical treatments and college tuitions. As a wealthy man, who grew up one of 13 siblings in a working-class family in the Great Depression, I’m sure financial providence is a sincere expression of love coming from him.

I can see that, and that’s part of why this hurts so much. Why I’m losing sleep and feeling selfish.

But just because my grandfather’s not deliberately puppet-mastering us all, doesn’t mean I haven’t felt the strings pull My mom has begged me ever since I came out to her (four years ago!) to never, ever tell her parents. I don’t know what she’s afraid of. Could be anything from our entire branch of the family being disinherited, down to just the “let’s-not-talk-about-this” awkwardness her family is way too good at maintaining. Which is totally why I’ve never asked her what, exactly, she’s afraid of. I am a product of these people. I came out to my grandparents via a Post-It note stuck to my monthly “car payment” check in the mail. Which I usually hand-deliver, because that’s how fucking close this family is, emotionally and geographically.

But even though it’s “close,” and not abusive per se, my relationship with the extended family is not healthy. I have lost sleep for days before every big family gathering since 2011. Since I began self-harming in 2013, I’ve had more incidents after family arguments than any other trigger, and it’s a goddamn miracle that I’ve kept my 8-months-clean streak going with all that’s been bouncing around my head since Sunday. Every time I’m around them- especially a group of them- I seem to do more damage to my mental health, their esteem of “liberals,” and any remaining positive feelings between us. Maybe I’m the toxic one here. I don’t know. I don’t fucking care anymore. I just can’t do it.

I can’t do it.

I’m not saying I don’t want to ever speak to any of them ever again ever. No. I just... I can’t go to Thanksgiving or Christmas this year. Or New Year’s at my uncle’s house, which has the same guest list as the family Christmas, PLUS people from the evangelical megachurch I grew up in. 

I just can’t. I haven’t figured out how to tell any of my family this. I’m hoping my therapist will help. I hope- I think- that she won’t pull the same thing the internet articles did, this whole “blood is thicker than politics” bullshit that just makes me feel overdramatic and wrongheaded for taking a long-overdue stance for my own self-regard and personal boundaries.

[scum-belina]

hey what was it that made you almost commit suicide yesterday? that sounds awful ugh idk any better at to phrase it though, but I just want to know if things are any better today for you

Basically I've come to the realization that my dad does not have any regard for my mental health, my career goals, or my education. He'd be just fine with me living with my mom and him forever bc he wants me there to take care of them. He want me around them at all times. But I NEED to get independent bc I'm realizing my parents have never really been that stable or dependable at all, especially now. We've not had any income all year bc they're STILL making us wait for dad to get approved for disability, and I'm scared that he'll never get approved. Even though he SHOULD get approved. He is permanently paralyzed from a rare spine and brain cancer he is CLEARLY disabled yet they're still making us wait for who knows how long and it's extremely discouraging. Dad is basing the rest of our future on money we're not even guaranteed we'll even get and I just want to be able to drive and work so I can feel somewhat stable in my life, but now my dad is giving his truck over to my terribly irresponsible granny, when before he had promised to give it to me. All-in-all I was just fucking devastated and still am tbh. I sincerely feel like there's no way out for me and I'll never be free I'll just be at the mercy of my parent's and relative's horrible and irresponsible decisions. I want nothing more than to pursue translating and teaching languages abroad and now I'm just not seeing any possible way that could ever happen for me. And yesterday all of this and more was piled up in my mind and I fucking broke down terrified and took a long satin scarf I had and went out into one of the barns and was about to hang myself with the scarf, but I just fell out onto the hay bales and wailed and blubbered and wrapped the scarf around my head as a prayer shawl of sorts and prayed instead. It was extremely difficult. I was fighting something I still don't completely understand at this time while I was in there. I can't even remember half of what I even prayed for in that barn. I just know I poured out my soul and it had to have been quite the ugly scene bc I was a fucking wreck. After I finally stopped praying, I immediately thought "you could still do it you could still make this end right now" but then I looked to my left and saw one of the little barn cats named Tuxedo was looking straight at me, like he had been watching me the whole pathetic time, Iand I thought "I can't kill myself in front of all these poor cats they rely on me to feed them they need me" and just left after that. As soon as I walked out, I saw my mom coming outside to look for me. I just told her I had a breakdown and decided to take it outside instead of around her. She didn't even notice the scarf, or if she did then she just simply didn't want to acknowledge it So that's what happened yesterday. Today has been a bit better, but still when I think of the situation we're in and how coldly my father disregarded me yesterday, I still feel a hurt in me that I can't begin to describe. I've never been very close to my father, but I figured we'd get closer during his fight with cancer, but this has not been the case. If anything, I feel more distant from him than ever before. He still has no idea who I am and doesn't seem to care to know about who I truly am and that fucking kills me. I tried so hard to get to know him better and for him to know me me better but it just never happened and I don't understand why. I'm just trying to console myself with the fact that I'm not the first person to have a bad relationship with their father, and have a toxic, controlling, verbally abusive family in general. I keep trying to tell myself I can overcome all this, but I have to do it myself and also seek out help and treatment on my own because no one in my family wants me to. Just give me oversharer of the year award for this Y I K E S. I don't know why I even just typed all of that lmao embarrassing. But I figure I might as well be honest. Maybe someone can find some inspiration from my story of survival idk.

[nacsygen]

speaking of fashion, i feel like rambling about my boobs, and this is my tumblr, so i will.  also bc this is tumblr, i will frame my rambling about my boobs in the context of my mental health journey.

over the past coming up on four years, my mental health has had a drastic (thought not constantly) upwards trajectory, from ‘’trembling waif unable to hold a conversation without wanting to literally run and hide and/or cry’’ to ‘’wow, i just realized it’s been like two years since i felt like absolute shit for no real reason for more than, like, a day at a time. is this like...is this what being happy is like? wow!*” *”oh shit, now i have to actually live past 25...” part of it was maturing yes, bc no matter what bullshit they tell you, you’re still growing and maturing in your 20s too - and after that, too, for your whole life, really.  the idea that you should have all your shit figured out by the time you’re 22 is some kind of implied propaganda we all internalized around when they were showing us the charts in middle school that showed the average incomes of people with different levels of degrees.  and if you’re not the kind of person to have your shit together by 22 - say, you’re not neurotypical, or you’ve got un-dealt-with-traumas, or you’re just not the kind of person or at the stage in your life where post-secondary is the right fit for you, or any combination of the above, or anything else - when you DON’T have your shit together by the time you’re “supposed” to, it just feels like salt in the wound, when you’re different.  it feels - no, it IS damaging, especially if you’ve never been able to really internalize the idea that it’s O K to be on a different life path than what you’re “supposed” to be.  that is, in fact, the very thing that culminated in the worst and last (and i sincerely hope it’s the LAST) depressive episode of my life, around my 25th birthday. i feel sorry for the girl who was me from 20 to 25.  poor thing hurt a lot, and too often. but the main part of my getting better was just getting help.  or rather, my mom reaching out to do the research for me, finally recognizing that i wasn’t going to magically get better on my own and that guilt tripping and anger were not helping my crippling depressive withdrawal (and while i know that the physically disabled tend to not care for the psychologically disabled using the term “crippling”, in my case it definitely extended to the physically disabling in several very literal ways that i won’t get into here).  my mom did the research and made me make the calls.  i was very lucky that there was a low-income mental health center 15 minutes down the road.  i was exceedingly lucky in that i got an incredible counselor who’d been through it herself, herself now (then) in her late 20s, early 30s, maybe one or two levels up from where i am now. my sessions with her literally changed and quite probably saved my life.  i went from crying in every session and her gently and considerately seeing me out the back door of the office to minimize the strangers who’d see my raw vulnerability, to the sessions being the highlights of my week, with me eager to share with her my progress - to delight in finally becoming my true self again, to be vibrant, to find joy in things, to have things i could be happy to share with a professional friend. because of her guidance i learned how to change the way my mind had wired itself in a negative way, and to love myself again.  because of her i was able to move on, move out, become self-sufficient - eventuallym because of how she taught me, to take care of myself and to keep growing, to love myself the way i love the world. to be happy, most of the time, when at the time we first met, i wasn’t sure i ever would be again. to take care of myself again but i was talking about boobs and fashion, right? the thing is, i’ve had essentially the same body type, my “adult” body, since i was 13.  this body has, no matter its weight fluctuations, had proportionately significant breasts.  (a blog post about afab body image and mental health would not be complete without at least one teenaged semi-traumatic anecdote - i once when i was in eighth grade got accosted by a group of older girls in the courtyard at school before class, demanding to know what i stuffed my bra with, and getting increasingly hostile and physically investigating said bra with harsh gropes when i said i didn’t stuff it at all. this was, needless to say, humiliating and traumatic, and i didn’t wear that tight turtleneck again for years.)   the thing is this body that contains me is also exceedingly small in all other directions (except my head, i’ve got an adult human-sized head) compared to normal humanity.  very short in height, narrow ribcage, ectothermic body structure, narrow limbs, narrow hips, child-sized hands and feet, etc.  even when i was at my lowest weights, which i will always associate more with my worst depressive episodes than any kind of diet-culture positive, even when they were to my eye as flattened pancakes, i still had pretty alright boobs that i liked. but then, once i got healthy again, i naturally gained healthy weight.  it came with eating more healthily, and eating with purpose, and not just because i would die if i didn’t, and even for a depressive starvation’s not a good way to go.  it came from caring for the human animal, from realizing that i could never live with myself if i neglected a pet the way i was treating my human animal, because if i didn’t care for it, who would? eating with structure, at set times every day, and maintaining at least a mininum amount of calories needed, necessarily entailed that i would gain weight. and i welcomed that! most of my body issues when i was younger stemmed from my skinniness - i hated my fragility. i longed for and desired (in the gay way too, and probably though i didn’t realize it yet the non-cis way) and wished to be like girls with weight and heft to them, girls with thick thighs and arms, girls with muscle, girls with softness and roundness, girls with strength and solidity of frame. in comparison i felt like a ghost close to being torn to pieces in the wind, a collection of fragile bone in the shape of a person.  but that’s not who i am anymore, and that’s no longer what i fear. but at least i always had my boobs, and with them, with being healthier mentally and physically going hand in hand, i was and have been able to measure my own healthiness by their size. by cupping them in my hands and counting how many fingers it takes to go from ribcage to the edge of areola, i can measure my own growth and well-being.  they’re most of where i gain weight, and i’ve gone from two fingers and change at the worst to all four fingers plus a spare inch, besides, now, at what is currently the best. despite my current stressful situation, i am ultimately at my healthiest physically and mentally i’ve been since i was like 11.  more, even, because i’m no longer anemic.  and accordingly, my breasts are the largest they’ve ever been (not counting that time i was on birth control for a couple months, and my least tactful roommate asked if i was pregnant, and i stopped taking it because i decided crying myself to sleep every night for no reason probably wasn’t worth it).   which brings me to fashion. and boobs. i’ve alluded to here and outright stated before that i identify as somewhere between nonbinary and bigender.  all i know, really, in our limited current vocabulary, is i’m not cis female. but you know? i like my boobs. i’m pan, i reserve the right to like boobs, even love them, even if they’re on my body, even if i’m not “female”.  i live in and love and feel at home in a climate, and otherwise a culture, where female-coded dress (tank tops and short-shorts, sundresses) are far, far more comfortable than male-coded dress (heavy thick shorts or jeans, a t-shirt with an undershirt for god knows what reason - they can’t know we have nipples!!).   i reserve the right as a non-binary/bigender person (yes i’m aware that’s a contradiction in terms, so am i) to reject the idea that my physical interpretation of my presentation as leaning femme means i’m female. fuck you. you ever wore a sundress in the florida summer? you ever wore heavy khaki knee-length cargo shorts paired with sneakers and socks and an undershirt and a t-shirt in the florida summer? which would you guess is more comfortable? i rest my case. oh, i almost forgot to get to the point, which is that as my breasts have gotten more prominent, some of my favorite comfy dresses have somehow become Problematic in Public.  they are now Too Booby.  larger breasts in and of themselves, even in the same dresses but instead of with smaller breasts (that’s Fashion tm), carry with them Implications of Sexiness. Luridness.  Provocativeness.  as someone who’s had both small boob privilege and big boob sexy, this is completely obnoxious and at the same time culturally unavoidable. in my current favorite dress, which fits me like it was tailored to me despite got from goodwill, it cups and supports my breasts lovingly in its bodice and flows beautifully asymetrically down from the high waist line that is also flattering to my body type.  i love it, i absolutely adore it, i love the way it makes me look, i love the way it fits me perfectly, i love the way it makes me feel.  but it is definitely a Boobs On Display dress.  it’s so low cut in the front of the neckline, and boosts my already large breasts enough, that you can see a significant curve of underboob. and they are objectively gorgeous breasts! but this dress, having them On Display, apparently, instead of my love of its supportive and flowing embrace of my body, indicates i’m On Display when i wear it.  that’s...a little dysphobic and dysmorphic. it means i can’t wear it in any situation where i want to appear Professional, bc boobs Aren’t Professional.  it means i have to think about what situations i can wear it in and how people will judge me for it, this my new favorite dress. it means people will think i’m Lurid and Sexual by virtue of having and showing so much cleavage, while in my mind i’m just delighting in how comfortable it is and how good i feel in it.. yeah, i’m not cis, yeah, i love looking pretty, fuck me, i guess.  my last girl told me once “holy shit, you’re like jessica rabbit” after i sent her some of my favorite chest-centric selfies. i’m not bad, i’m just drawn that way. i’m not a comic book heroine, i was just born that way. except also with a gut and no ass. life is full of compromise.