#and i've had no adhd meds for months now

[torchickentacos]

so I just realized the reason I read maybe 7 fics a year is probably because of this thing my therapist likes to call task paralysis

[leidensygdom]

If y'all wanna know how my partner and me have been handling our economical woes, we've been tactically trying to fit today's free theater visit with (free) popcorn to use these to replace dinner 🎭🍿

[sugah--bee]

okay so this is wildly like, impulse

but I really really really wanna do something with october and I am still posses by the spirit of crafting and not the spirit of art

so instead of trying to draw every day for a kind of inktober, I'm going to work on my wips every day for at least 20 minutes with pics of progress

rules

-have to work for 20 minutes a day and upload pictures with my progress and how much time I spent

-that's it thats all the rules. im not doing anything about finishing a project a day, or even finishing any of them, and if the time ends up being completely me weaving in ends or something that's fine, the goal is make progress not bust out 31 sweaters

literally it's just finish it february, but in October because I usually draw so this seems like the right month to do challenges like that

and I'm making a hashtag so I have some organization, and so people can block it if they don't want to see like, 10 pics of 'the same sweater but it's totally different because there's been an inch added' lol

[wired-for-weird]

i think im gaining weight again!!!!! <3333333 (wg ppl pls dni ilusm but this is a wellbeing thing not a kink thing)

[vaguelydefinedshapes]

phone? dead

charger? no

i am all alone with naught but my laptop and my wild berry tea monster rehab,,,

[tardis--dreams]

I wish i could get buproprion without a prescription this shit is way too good to give up ㅠㅠ

[carronpatrick]

Man...how does everyone not just *exist* every day because... dude, I'm struggling to just *exist* atp.

[knifegremliin]

aghhh man. i've been. doing barely any art lately.

[skullamity]

PSA for trans men and trans mascs on T who are afraid of/concerned about or experiencing male pattern baldness: Talk to your endocrinologist who monitors your T about hair loss before you talk to anyone else, you have options!

When the hair in the top of my head started to thin, I talked to my regular GP. She told me it should be fine to use Rogaine topically. There were no other options, either because she was somehow not aware OR was under the impression that alternatives might interfere with HRT. If this was the case, she did not relay this info to me, and if she had, I would have made an early appointment with my endocrinologist, who specialises in HRT for trans people specifically, and asked her about my options.

But, since I only have appointments once a year with my endo now because my levels are generally super consistent, I decided to try Rogaine. I lasted about a month, because it basically meant I had to wear a lined hat at all times to make sure I wasn't getting any on my pillow/cats/child. You need to apply it two to three times a day and leave it on your scalp for a couple of hours for the best results, every day, forever, and if you stop using it, your hair goes back to whatever it was up to before that made you concerned in the first place. I quit after a month and resigned myself to eventually going bald.

I finally had a phone appointment with my endo last week (was supposed to be in person but she had an emergency and was working remotely for the day), and when I brought this up and that I had tried Rogaine but couldn't deal with all of the above + my scalp was not reacting well to the alcohol in the foam so I quit, she was like ????? what? why didn't your GP just prescribe you finasteride???

I am now on finasteride! It is a dirt cheap, tiny ass pill. I only need to take a quarter of a pill once a day (my endo also helpfully explained to me that pill cutters exist and are also dirt cheap, so perfectly cutting a pill into quarters takes about 5 seconds and I got it for a whopping $8). Just like Rogaine, I WILL need to take it every day, forever, but it's not going to get all over my pillow and make my cats sick or cause my kid to grow a beard or whatever. It isn't going to dry my scalp out, and it also the cost comparison is a joke. I take it every morning at the same time I take my adhd meds, so it's easy to remember.

I have seen so, so many trans men and mascs online lately worried about this, probably because I've seen so many conservatives and the kind of detrans people that conservatives like to parade around put a lot of emphasis about how T will make you UGLY and make all of your hair fall out. I do feel sorry for any detrans women who are dealing with wonky hairlines or male pattern baldness, but also it sure is convenient that none of them see fit to mention that if you are experiencing those things, you can literally just talk to your endocrinologist about what your options are and then take a quarter of a pill every day to fix it. Almost like making you aware of that might move you away from their end goal, which is getting you to detransition.

[eroselless]

PATO - TWO

series masterlist | part 1 | part 3

[charles leclerc x reader, carlos sainz x reader]

warnings: angst, talk of pregnancy, Spanish

note: Part 2! I already feel extremely invested in this and I started new adhd meds so I've been able to rlly hone in and work hard on it :) Let me know how you guys are liking it!

SPAIN, DECEMBER 2022, 3 weeks later

1st trimester/7 weeks/2 months

The kitchen is quiet, filled with the soft, earthy smell of morning. You sit at the kitchen table, hand smoothing out a frayed edge of a doily trapped under a heavy bowl of fruit. Morning sickness has left your face pale and drawn, the quiet offering no relief. 

Despite the warmth of the sun and the stillness of the countryside, you struggle to adjust. The noisy streets of Monaco seemed to bring you comfort, a reminder of Charles and how eventually he’d come home to you. But now here in the Spanish countryside, the hustle and bustle of the city is replaced by the bird's chirping gently, the wind clinks against the windchimes and the loneliness presses in. 

Aunt Ines moves around the kitchen, as if gliding, her movements brisk and efficient as she prepares a brebaje for you, a concoction to soothe your queasy gut. She places the mug in front of you and you recoil slightly at the smell, bitter and uninviting. It wafts up, mingling the scent of coffee and eggs. 

“Tomatelo, que eso ayuda con las náuseas,” she says, her voice gentle, her eyes warm with the kind of understanding that feels like pity. Drink it; it’ll help with the nausea. You take the mug, hands trembling slightly. You take a big gulp, ignoring the slight burn the liquid leaves behind. Your hands tremble slightly as you put the cup back down on the table.

“Gracias, tía,” you murmur, voice barely above a whisper.

Ines watches you, her gaze intent and sorrowful, as if she can see the ghosts that sit at this table with you. She never even had the thought to hesitate to open her home to you, but there was no escaping her soft looks, her constant worrying. 

She learned to recognize the sound of you moving through the house in the dead of night, calling out for Charles in your sleep. That constant look in your eyes whenever you would check your phone for any missed calls, any proof that maybe he hadn’t fully forgotten you. Your belly was growing a little every day, a beautiful sign of love and life but the joy in your eyes seemed to fade as each day passed. 

“Linda, ¿por qué no vas por un pancito a la panaderia?” She gently suggests. Sweetie, why don’t you go get some bread from the bakery? You let out a groan and she can almost see your old self appear briefly as you sag in the chair, arms flopping down at your sides like a child. 

“I don’t feel like going out,” you mutter, half-hearted. She places her hand on your shoulder, squeezing it gently. 

“I know it’s hard,” she says, her voice firm but soft. “But you need to get out a little. Some fresh air will do you good. And besides, you can’t stay cooped up in this house forever.” Her eyes flick down to your hand, to the way it rests over your barely-there bump. 

You sigh, mumbling a quiet bueno, okay as you get up from the table. Ines watches you pull your shoes on with a huff. She twists a rag in her hands, recalling how spirited you used to be. As you bid her a quick goodbye, she can’t help but shake her head as you check your phone one more time before tossing it on the table by the door. You were checking for Charles again. 

You looked for him in the mirror every morning, in your sheets, in your sleep. She could hear you cry in the early hours of the morning when you thought she was asleep. She could hear you talking to the baby, asking it questions, both love and anger pouring out in your words. 

Charles’s silence seemed to weigh heavy on your conscience. Was all the love shared in the two years you spent together just gone? Picked up by the wind and dropped into the ocean, sinking down to its dark depths? 

Ines would try her best to distract you from Charles and focus on the baby, gifting you a hand-knitted blanket and yellow booties. Each item was made with love and care, trying to remind you that you had love at your fingertips, in herself and the little bundle growing within you. 

You make your way to the bakery, the morning air cool against your skin. You can’t help but wonder what Charles might be doing. Were you occupying his thoughts as he was occupying yours? Maybe he was waiting on his phone, waiting for your call as you waited for him every day. You get pulled from your thoughts as a little boy skids in front of you, you let out a yelp as he scurries after a red toy car.

“Disculpa, señora!” He looks up, eyes wide, grinning shyly, and you smile in spite of yourself as he darts off.  Sorry, lady! You watch him as he wanders off, finally catching it. Another boy, older, follows after him. You both watch as the little one, maybe 3 years old, flicks at the tires of the car, laughing as they spin. He beams up at the older boy and they smile at each other, conversing and giggling as they continue their way down the street. There’s a bittersweetness to it, this simple joy, this little fragment of a family you now craved to have.

The streets are lined with charming little buildings, bustling with kids and adults alike. You can soon smell the yeasty scent of bread trailing down the street. You breathe deeply as you reach the doors of the bakery, greeted by warmth and the delicious smell of freshly baked goods. Walking through the threshold of the baker, a kindly old man smiles at you as you enter. 

“Buenos dias, señorita,” he says. “What can I get for you today?” You manage a small smile. “A loaf of your freshest bread please.”

He nods and disappears into the bakery. You pull out some coins, settling in the warmth of the cozy bakery, trying to draw some comfort from the soft glow of warm lighting and the inviting scent of cinnamon and sugar. You close your eyes for a second, hand resting on your tummy. It's grown since the night on the train. If you pulled your shirt tightly against your body, you’d be able to see it starting to poke out. You wonder what the baby will look like. Would she look like you? Or would she inherit the features of her father? Would it even be a she? Or would it be a little boy, the image of his father? 

The baker calls for you, pulling you out of your brief daze and hands you the loaf wrapped in brown paper. You hand him the money and thank him before heading back home. 

Your walk back is easier, your mind occupied with thoughts of the baby. You cradle the warm bread against your chest, eyes flickering to its crispy outside. You’ll carry the baby like this someday. 

Back at the house, Ines is waiting for you. She leans on the doorway, a smile on her face. She takes the bread from you, walking into the kitchen. 

“No tan mal,¿cierto?” She teases lightly. Not that bad, right? You nod, almost smiling. 

Putting the bread down, she pulls you into her arms, holding you close.

She feels her chest fill with relief as you relax into her arms, face tucked into the crook of her neck. You hold onto her, feeling as if she’s trying to transfer some of her strength to you. Her arms feel safe and you lean further into them, letting your walls down, just for a moment.

A WEEK LATER 

There's a gentle hum in the air, laughter echoing in the kitchen as you sit on the kitchen counter, a bag of carrots in your lap. You bite into one, handing another to your aunt as she chops them up and tosses them into a simmering pot full of celery and potatoes. 

“Do you remember when Jorge used to feed the dog his bottle?” Ines says, chuckling, shaking her head. Her children are older than you, occupied with their own families in different corners of the world. “He was so terribly convinced that the dog needed it more than he did.” 

You laugh, remembering your cousin’s antics, and it feels good, genuine, the laughter bubbling up from some forgotten place. “And Mateo used to put his toys in the fridge! Mom would always find action figures next to the milk and cheese.”

Ines laughs again, a bittersweet smile on her lips. “Esos peladitos, always keeping us on our toes.” Those little guys. 

You laugh at her comment, hopping off the counter as you hear your phone buzz on the kitchen table. Ines chastises you as you do so, telling you you shouldn’t be jumping around like that. You brush your hands on your pants, not caring for the slight orange residue they leave behind, and reach for your phone. 

The laughter seems to fade from the room, the joyful noise dying in your chest. You blink a few times, words on the screen not fully registering in your mind. The headline stares back at you, the words blurring as tears fill your eyes. 

You barely register throwing the phone down before bolting out the door, the weight of it crashing over you as you collapse at the edge of the garden, gasping for breath, the betrayal clawing at your chest. Your aunt looks back at you from her spot at the sink. 

“Mi amor,” she calls for you, moving quickly to follow after you. “¿que paso?” What happened? You don’t answer, fingers gripping at the dirt as if digging your hands in deeper will stop the word from spinning around you. Your chest feels tight and the air only seems to get hotter as you stand there. You want to scream. Inside, Ines watches you, wiping her hands on a rag before picking up the phone with the screen still on. Her heart fills with dread as she reads: 

Prince of Ferrari, Charles Leclerc, moves on with a mystery woman after split from elusive girlfriend.

She swipes at the screen, eyes scanning over the pictures attached to the headline. Charles sits at a table, glasses perched on the bridge of his nose. He’s leaning into the woman, noses almost touching as he leans in for a kiss. There’s a smile painted on his face, his arm draped around her shoulders. The pictures show him gradually getting closer until his lips are pressed to hers. 

She presses a hand to her mouth as she puts the phone down, making sure to swipe the page away before making her way out to you. You’re sobbing, with your head in your hands. Your shoulders shake with the force you’re using, so much Ines thinks you could heave. 

“Lo siento mucho, mi amor,” she consoles as she nears you. I'm so sorry, my love. She pulls you into her chest, her own tears dripping down her face as your body wracks against hers. Her hands rub soothing circles on your back. 

The pain feels unbearable, a mix of betrayal and heartbreak.The man you love, the father of your child, moving on without a second thought. You think of the nights you cried for him, the mornings you searched for his presence. It felt like a cruel joke. 

“Casi ni siquiera ha pasado un mes,” you manage to choke out between sobs. “Y asi como nada.” It's barely even been a month, and just like that.

Ines pulls back slightly, looking into your eyes. She brushes away the hair that’s begun to stick to your cheeks. Your eyes look beautiful as they continue to drip. There was so much beauty in your tragedy. 

“We’ll get through this,” she whispers firmly. “One step at a time.”

You nod, taking a small comfort in her words. They don’t do much to ease the crushing weight in your chest. Any hope you had for a future with Charles crumbles before you, replaced with an uncertain reality. You can’t manage anymore, clutching at her as if she was the only solid thing left. She holds you tight, her love wrapping around you like a warm blanket, offering the only solace you can find as the world seems to crash around you.

.˚ ༘ ⋆｡˚ ✧ ˚ ༘ ⋆｡˚.

The weeks pass slowly and you find yourself sitting on the porch day after day. You find yourself on the porch, staring out at the world as the seasons shift around you. There’s something almost surreal about it all, the way life moves forward even as you feel frozen in place. Your morning sickness dwindles, some days better than others. It's yet another crisp morning that you find yourself sitting there, enjoying the sound of the wind chimes and birds once again. Ines pokes her head out the door, peering at you. 

“Linda, te puedo pedir un favorcito?” she asks, her face in a little grimace. Sweetie, can I ask a little favor from you? You look up, nodding your head silently. She lets out a sly smile.

“I’m running low on a few things for dinner tonight and I can’t go to the market with all the chores I need to finish.” she winces. You know what’s coming and you relent, getting up to grab a grocery bag. 

“Thank you, Mija,” she says, pressing a kiss to your head. “I just need some tomatoes and carrots and maybe a loaf of bread.” you nod fervently at her request, not stopping the shadow of a smile that appears on your face as she hobbles away to grab a pen and paper. With a list in hand, you step out into the bright morning light.

The market is just a short walk away, and as you make your way through the quaint streets, you try to focus on the task at hand, pushing thoughts of Charles to the back of your mind.

The market is alive with activity, vendors calling out their wares, and the air filled with the mingling scents of fresh produce and baked goods. You wander from stall to stall, selecting ripe tomatoes, crisp lettuce, and fragrant herbs, your basket slowly filling with the ingredients Ines needs.

As you reach for a bundle of carrots, you hear a voice call from behind you. You turn, eyes widening as you see Carlos approaching you, arms wide and a smile playing on his face. 

“Es tan lindo verte,” he says, eyes crinkling with a warm smile. It's so nice to see you. He pulls you in close arms wrapping around you completely. You relax a little, finding comfort in seeing a familiar face. A mixture of emotions hits you as he holds you. His presence is a reminder of the world you left behind, a reminder of the love you lost. 

“Hola, Carlos,” you reply, managing a soft smile. He lets go, eyes looking over you. 

“You look… different,” he observes. His face is full of concern as he looks you over closely. Your smile fades as he does, the color rises in your cheeks, an unspoken truth hanging between you. Your bump is sticking out a little more as you enter your second trimester. Your shirt is pulled back against your tummy, caught between your side and the bag you’re carrying. The growing babe even causes your belly button to start to poke out. “Yeah,” you murmur, tugging your shirt loose. “I guess I’ve been going through some changes.” 

You feel a blush rise to your cheeks as he reaches for your small belly, stopping abruptly.  “Are you…?” he trails off, his voice filled with surprise. 

You nod, and Carlos can’t tell if your expression is of pride or shame. He nods sympathetically. He’d heard about what happened with Charles, whispers spreading quickly through the paddock as the news broke. But not this, no one had mentioned this. “Charles doesn’t know. He doesn’t need to.” The words fall out, bare and raw, and Carlos nods, understanding without needing further explanation, your eyes plead with him. 

He nods, eyebrows furrowed. “Lo siento mucho,” he says, reaching out and placing a reassuring hand on your shoulder. I'm so sorry. Though Charles didn’t share you much with the world, you did occasion a race every now and then, mostly hidden away from the cameras. When he saw Charles step out on town with someone else, he suspected something had happened. 

You nod, a lump forming in your throat. “Yeah,” you whisper. His hand lingers its spot, sending a strange sense of comfort to wash over you. Despite the pain you’d been carrying with you for the last few weeks, the genuine kindness he was offering you seemed to alleviate it a little.

"Listen," Carlos begins, his voice gentle. "I know things are tough right now, but if you ever need someone to talk to or just a shoulder to lean on, I'm here for you." 

His words catch you off guard, and you find yourself blinking back tears. "Thank you, Carlos," you whisper, feeling a swell of gratitude in your chest.

He offers you a warm smile, his eyes crinkling at the corners. "Anytime," he says softly. "Cuidate, okay?” Take care of yourself, okay?

With a final nod, Carlos bids you farewell, leaving you standing there in the bustling market square.

tags: @kravitzwhore @janeh22 @apollosfavkiddo @leah-also-known-as-creatoronwp @tremendousstarlighttragedy

[queervegancryptid]

please help, i haven't had a meal in four days (current as of 10/25/2024)

i'm in early recovery from anorexia and have basically been nonfunctional for months. i'm also disabled and get about $925 per month from disability and SSI, combined. i usually get food stamps, but this month, i didn't, because i never got the letter telling me i needed to recertify. so this has been a really rough month.

i'm more stable and feel stronger now than i did a few months ago. i'm even able to start back on a low dose of my ADHD meds, which i had to quit because i was having some scary heart issues.

the improvement i've had has been largely due to drinking meal replacement drinks. which i cannot afford now because i don't have any money and don't have food stamps.

i'm literally starving. i'm working on a gofundme because of the situation with my eating disorder and other things, but this is an emergency. we need help NOW.

please consider donating and/or boosting the post. thank you to anybody who does either/both.

As of 10/27/2024, this is still VERY URGENT. My partner can't work for the next few days, so things are about to get even harder for us.

paypal --> https://paypal.me/niksnotdead

venmo --> @Nik-Hartsfield // https://venmo.com/code?user_id=2098827867717632267&created=1729889548

cashapp --> $niksnotdead // https://cash.app/$niksnotdead

zelle --> +1-352-226-7347 // nikhartsfield@gmail.com

[andhumanslovedstories]

hi! i'm gonna overshare a little bit but i'm doing my nursing prereqs right now and i'm really worried. i'm kind of really mentally ill and i've been worrying recently if nursing is worth it. i want to help people and it sounds so interesting and i love medical stuff but i don't want to get burnt out with the stress and long hours. someone told me that nursing is a lot like being a restaurant server, and i don't want to go to school and get a degree and a career that's literally just serving again. is it satisfying? is it rewarding? is it soul-killing? i'm scared

hi there! I'll overshare in return! I'm just coming off three months of disability for burnout (which for me is just depression but with a name you can use in the workplace). My job didn't cause my depression, but it certainly exacerbated it. The hours, the stress, the constant exposure to people suffering and the limits on your ability to do something about it, all those suck and they can break your brain. (On the other hand, I've been majorly depressed while working at an ice cream parlor where the walk-in freezer was for smoking weed. You can be depressed anywhere.)

And it is a hard job! Harder in some parts of the field than others. Different places have different nursing cultures, different laws, different staffing, etc. Where I work, there's good protection and advocacy for nursing. That's not true everywhere.

With all that said--I really like nursing. I get to do work that I know contributes good to the world. I get to solve very practical problems. I meet people I would never otherwise meet. I have the opportunity every shift to do something that I am proud of. And a lot of times, I find it fun! It's fun to brainstorm how to make someone who's been puking all night feel better. It's fun to see your efforts rewarded, even in small ways. It's fun to stop something before it becomes an emergency. It's fun bustling around, juggling a dozen different things. It's not ALWAYS fun. But for me, the work is not just meaningful but also enjoyable.

That's how I knew I had bad burnout btw. Even when things went well and I did work I was proud of, every shift was such a fucking slog.

If you are interested in the basic work of nursing (managing the human response to illness and promoting health), then there's a million and one jobs you can do with a nursing degree. They cater to different traits. I've discovered I really like precepting new nurses, I like working on the floor with its routine and concrete goals, and I like symptom management. I don't like critical care or the emergency department or working on stuff that isn't patient care, like paperwork and charge nursing. I like novelty but not chaos. I like independence but not being left entirely to my own devices. I like that I physically cannot take any of my work home. I do not like being on committees. So for me, right now at this point in my life, I like being a basic med-surg night shift float pool nurse. I would be absolutely miserable as a neuro ICU critical care day shift nurse. I would be bored to death being an inpatient rehab night nurse. Being a nurse manager would probably make me suicidal again.

If you find the basic work interesting and rewarding, you can tailor it to your taste. (I can't recommend floor nursing enough for the adhd havers amongst us.)

and last thing, regarding mental illness: I think a lot of nurses (and ppl in healthcare in general) struggle with mental illness way more than they think they do. Someone who knows they have depression and works to manage it will likely be more resilient than someone endlessly pushing through their fatigue and misery. Probably a better nurse, too. I take meds, go to therapy, get sleep, push myself to eat, take sick days, protect my limited energy, do physical activity--I'm a gym girlie now!!--because I'm treating a disease I know that I have. Just knowing that there's something up with your brain and doing something about it puts you way ahead like half of the people who work the emergency department.

[endivinity]

additional kullen news: concerta and melatonin interacted... poorly. i've always had hypnopompic hallucinations (the kind you get with sleep paralysis. but i'm not paralyzed, i'm REACTIVE) but concerta was metabolizing so slowly out of my system it wasn't letting me sleep well. it did something hideous to my hindbrain and made me panic. so in the throes of a hallucination that just made me imagine someone had come into my room and rearranged my shelf, i launched myself foward, fell fully out of bed, and landed my entire weight on my finger. of my dominant hand. got it xrayed and everything. it's not broken! but it's been a month and a half and I still don't have full use of it. i'm going to physio though - managed to make a fist yesterday for the first time since, so it's getting there. swells up something horrible if i have it out of the splint to do art and I can't straighten it past a 30 degree bend when that happens so it's very slow going.

i've switched to ritalin now which..... works perfectly. same molecule, instant release. can't go to the higher dose bc it gives me mad anxiety and issues with diastolic blood pressure but the starter amount is apparently just right and im ????????? ok.jpg i have mild-moderate adhd so it's not going to pack the same punch as if i had moderate-severe since it's not correcting as much of an imbalance but still it feels pretty good and it hasn't caused any severe side effects other than crashing really hard when they wear off. if only i could get sleep meds that work bc i'm not allowed melatonin any more :')

[skellish]

Please help a disabled (seeking disability) trans woman keep her apartment!

Hi everyone, my name is Delia, I’m a 25 year old trans woman with several disabilities, such as ADHD, possible autism, BPD, depression, anxiety, CPTSD, chronic fatigue, et cetera. I need real help in order to keep the apartment that I fought so hard to get. I am seeking disability right now, but it is going extremely slowly and I don’t know when I’ll see any help from the government. Let me explain a bit of my situation.

Medicine has never really worked for me, and I recently decided I needed to come off wellbutrin because it was making my anxiety a lot worse, as well as depleting my ability to really feel anything at all, so my doctor recommended I stop and try a new med. I can’t afford to go to the doctor very often so I stopped the medicine a month ago and am going back in September to try something different that will hopefully help.

Essentially, I live in income based apartments and lately, my disabilities have been either preventing or seriously hindering me from getting to my job. I used to work basically full time at my deli job and it became too much due to me being burnt out for like the last 5 years, so I had to cut down. I work three days a week now, and it’s already becoming too much again because of said perpetual burn out and medication withdrawal. I have either been missing work entirely or been late every single day, and they haven’t fired me yet but I fear the worst is coming soon.

Right now, my rent is $372, my water bill is already behind, power bill still needs paying, and I only have ≈$100 in my bank account right now. I am planning to yard sale both this Friday and Saturday, and next, and get some more cash before it is due, which is on the 10th of August. On the 10th, they will serve me an eviction notice to get out by the 20th unless I can get the money.

I am asking here if anyone could spare anything, any amount is immensely appreciated. I have been on my own for a few years now with little to no support, and I've always despised needing or asking for it, but the fact of the matter though is that this is my last Hail Mary to save my sinking ship, and I'm desperate.

I know most folks here are also struggling though, and I hate to make this post, but I am kind of at my wits end in regards to keeping this apartment. This has been my first somewhat stable home in pretty much my whole life and I'm terrified of being forced to move yet again. If I can just get this month’s rent paid, I will be able to find a new, more tolerable job in the meantime while I am seeking disability benefits, and then hopefully keep the ball rolling.

Any amount will help, I am honestly begging and I will appreciate anything anyone can spare, be it a donation or a share.

Update 8-12-24: so we have made some good progress here and I am thankful. Sadly some unforseen expenses had come out, so not exactly where I'd like it, but it is coming along. I've just got 8 ish days left to come up with the rest though, so. I am considering selling my Playstation, and that was unconscionable previously, so things are fairly dire.

V3nm0: @Skellish

C@sh@pp: $Skellish69

Goal: $372

Current: $110 / updated: $190, (still need $182)

[apathetic-revenant]

uh...hi?

[head pokes around corner]

so...

I've been back to scrolling around on tumblr for a bit now, and have been really wanting to get back to actually, y'know. being here. posting. not just sort of hanging here invisibly like a mournful ghost, observing but never interacting. that sort of thing. (revenants, after all, are supposed to be corporeal undead.)

but I really wanted to explain why I just kind of abruptly vanished in the first place. no one demanded this of me, but it felt like something I had to do. and then, in the typical way of self-imposed obstacles, it became a massive stumbling block. partly because of the nerves and emotions attached to it, sure, but mostly, tbh, because it was a Task. I recently (about 3 weeks ago now?) started seeing a new psychiatrist and got an adjustment to my ADHD meds which basically made my brain boot up again for the first time in way too long. this is great! but it means I am having to kind of slowly rehab my brain into getting used to doing Literally Anything again, one small step at a time. I am not being hyperbolic when I say I had to gradually build up my executive functioning for a while just to be able to write a tumblr post.

but fuck it! I really wanted to just do this already. so, while I'm sure I'll talk about all this in more detail later, for right now I'm gonna strip this down to the bare essentials just so I can get it done at all.

here's what happened:

in 2020 I had a sudden onset of extremely severe OCD.

no, not about the pandemic, actually. yeah I was anxious about the pandemic but it was a pretty normal level of anxiety for a global pandemic, honestly. my OCD took the form of scrupulosity--essentially, an obsessive worry about being a bad person.

tumblr is....not a GREAT place to be if you have a sudden obsessive fear of being a bad person.

now, to be clear: tumblr did not CAUSE my OCD, and leaving tumblr did not cure it. that's just not how OCD works. later on, I learned that atypical antipsychotics--one of which I had been prescribed around that time, for depression--have been known to cause OCD. is there any way to prove that that's what happened? probably not, at this point! so I've just been kind of sitting with that terrible knowledge for a while.

anyway. I would've had OCD anyway, but reading a regular stream of posts going "hey, here's a really terrible thing you might be doing! you might even be doing it without knowing it! you need to think really hard and be constantly vigilant all the time for any sign that you might be doing this thing!" was basically pouring gasoline on the fire.

I never made an active decision to leave tumblr--if I had I would've said something first. I just kind of thought "god, I can't do this right now" one day and didn't open the app, which turned into days and then weeks and then months, and still things weren't getting better.

it's hard to express exactly how harrowing that whole experience was. actually I just started thinking about it and realized I would never finish this post tonight if I tried to get into it just now. so I won't. let's just say: It Was Bad.

but, by an astronomical stroke of luck, I ended up getting referred to not just an OCD therapist, not just the only OCD therapist in the state who took Medicaid, but the only OCD therapist in the state who took Medicaid and also she was really good at her job. I genuinely think that woman saved my life.

OCD therapy is one of those "the only way out is through" kind of things. it's brutal and also quite surreal, but it has a high success rate and is very effective. OCD is not a thing that you can cure, per se, but it went from completely dominating every waking moment of my life to being something that I occasionally have to yell at in much the same way as when the cat starts knocking things off my desk at 3 in the morning.

but, the thing was, it took a year-and-a-bit before my therapist and I agreed that I had probably "graduated" as she put it. so, by the time I felt able to go back on tumblr without my brain catching on fire again, it had been so long that I didn't know how to do it. I felt like I'd pulled a major dick move by just dropping off without saying anything. I still thought about it (usually late at night, at Time To Think About Every Regret I've Ever Had O'Clock) but my brain very easily goes to a place of "well, no one would really notice or care that I was gone, and if they did they'd be mad at me for having left."

well. earlier this year I started on the road to getting past that idea. shoutout to @fordtato for helping with that, btw.

but it took me a while to work up the courage and then, as previously mentioned, even longer to work up the neurotransmitters.

I think I gotta wrap this up for now cause I don't have much concentration juice left. but, for what it's worth: I had a lot of emotions, coming back and seeing the names of people I used to talk to all the time. I don't know how you feel about me anymore, but I really missed yall. I would like to talk to you again.

[nadianova]

How much time do you spend planning some of your visual novels? At least going by some of them being jam submissions, it feels like you go from pre-production to a finished build very quickly, and it's amazing how you can manage that while still having an awesome story and so many assets.

Also, what is like, the process of planning a story out for you, if there's any vague or concrete similarities that you've noticed?

i think the important context here is that if i get bored/have nothing to do i jhust immediately get really suicidal its like ridiculous how bad it gets(ITS FINE DONT WORRY ABOUT IT IVE HAD 5 YEARS OF THERAPY). so i hate being bored and want to occupy my time wit something fun whatever that is. if i have a project to focus on but especially if I'm working for a game jam i have a deadline and i just decide to myself okay i will release a game now.

because ive made a decent amount of games i roughly have an idea on my capabilities, i can estimate how long it takes for me to write a story so and so long and how long it takes for me to draw stuff i need and how long it takes for me to throw stuff in renpy. these are estimates like as in I'm not accurate with it but still enough that i generally know where to start cutting ideas since the most important part is just having something to submit. i also know to plan around my brain wanting to slam my head into a wall an my hands suddenly giving up on being able to draw.

i think thats the beauty of game jams it forces you to just go for it and release something. releasing a 'bad' game is better than no game at all. experience only comes over time and i think just going for it is the best approach there is. like its literally 2 weeks 1 month whatever of your life. if you have the time and motivation go for it. make it work or fuck it up it wont matter in the grand scheme of things

im not sure what is the motivation behind the question but i do want to point out that this is just my method (if you can even call it a method) and the only way to figure out what works for you is to just try until you find something that actually works for you

idk not everyone will find it doable/fun to plan around spending two weeks gamedev 10 hours a day just cause i wanted to fit in 100 cgs for a jam game but apparently i can do that when i cheat my stupid adhd brain into hyperfocus with adhd meds

READMORE BECAUSE I CANT STOP RAMBLING

as for planning tho i think ideas on their own are worthless and its always about execution in the end. a great idea or a meh idea are the same for me but i do still enjoy the planning process so i keep notes

like i see a great tumblr post or i see some art or visual novel has some scene that inspires me: i save that shit for myself

having a big collection of random floating ideas like that helps me easily pick from especially during a jam type duration. right now i have like 4-5 half-baked project skeletons, some are literally like 3 pictures and some like naomida are a hundred hours worth of me writing world building about how the toilets work in a city with no plumbing cause its -30celcius(i love bringing this up)=

i dont normally plan that much, i tend to just wing it. like for malmaid i seriously just had some rough ideas and just went along as i wrote

same thing for dddeviance i had a handful of scenes that i really wanted to make and knew what kind of start and end it was meant to have and just figured out how to fill the in between. a lot of plot points changed vastly like halfway through i realised my devil + angel combination was stupid and i should just go for fallen angel + angel.

i think there really is no simple answer tho (as evident from the long as hell post) i don't really have a 'process' because every single game has been worked on has come with different type of planning since I'm always trying new stuff to try and distract me from boredom. like I've been using obsidian for naomida while previously I've just used a empty discord serve as my notes app for malmaid and dddeviance

and tbh with naomida I'm running to a new problem where I'm definitely planning too much. like I'm spending too much time fidgeting with details in chapter 4 even when i haven't finished writing chapter 1 just cause its so easy to get in the loop of "oh ill just change this one line" and boom 20 mins spent playing with my notes that didn't really progress my game since by the time i reach this point the whole scene might have shifted to something else

.

but if i had to squeeze an answer itd be something like everything related to my art or writing or games is just like "oooooo that seems fun i should remember this for later" and then i just string 10-100 of those into a story

i tend to write my stories in a format of

character A does this and that

this happens here

puppy play ryona piss orgasm

new day and then this happens here

sad thing happens

more piss orgasm

the end

and just like start filling in more details and working on my story in a nonlinear fashion until i feel like i have a strong enough skeleton that i can start writing my scenes. i hop around a lot, often preferring to write the fun scenes first like ero stuff or the ones I'm the most interested in and then the rest is just filling the blanks and stringing the cool scenes together