#and that I don't need to stop also having an anxiety disorder for that to be true

[lord-squiggletits]

I'm not completely opposed to making Pharma a weird guy in general pre-Messatine, the main issue I have with it is that a lot of that type of fandom is less "what if he was just a weird little guy" and more seems to be written with the implication that Pharma went crazy because he was just always a little crazy (or a little evil, or a little heartless, etc). Basically, to me it downplays the fact that Pharma underwent massive trauma for two years straight that other characters barely survived for a few hours/days and instead frames Pharma snapping as some sort of... I don't know, genetic/fated downfall because he was just weird, he was always off, is it really any wonder Pharma ended up Like That because I mean there was always something a little weird about him.

It just seems to accidentally imply that Pharma snapping under the pressure of years of torture was some sort of moral failing or sign of him being weak/immoral. You know, Pharma was always kind of a little creepy/insane/evil deep down which is obviously why he killed people. If he were just a normal, not-weird, good person then he would've been mentally strong enough to Not Go Insane. Like uhhhh it just seems kind of fucked up to imply that the reason some people are unable to cope with long-term trauma and have violent/unhealthy coping behaviors is because there's just something innately wrong with them, and then try and look back on their whole life trying to contextualize how they were actually unstable and evil all along instead of just accepting that like. Normal people (tm), yes normal and good people, can be put in situations where they're slowly turned into broken monsters because they had no escape and no good choices.

And also it's equally fucked up to imply that like. Whether or not you can deal with psychological torture without snapping is some sort of function of how innately moral or mentally strong you are. Incredibly victim-blamey to basically go "well the reason Pharma went insane is because he was just always cracked in the head, unlike our good buddy-pal-friend-hero Ratchet who's the perfect doctor and a good Autobot who's never done anything wrong which is why when he's an asshole/hurts people he's not nearly as destructive or Weird About It."

It's not that "Pharma was always kind of crazy" can't be done, because anything can be written well with enough thought. But I think in terms of writing, it's a very difficult and nuanced line to balance and most people literally just can't do it without implying that trauma victims/mentally ill people are evil or something. And Pharma is already unfairly villainized enough as-is, and in canon his trauma was already downplayed in favor of "haha crazy doctor chainsaw go brrr look how weird and quirky and craaaazyyy he is." So it's one of those things where 1. Most people just aren't good enough to write it and 2. "Always a little crazy" Pharma is already oversaturated enough in the fandom anyways and it's enough of a battle to get people to recognize that he's a tragic character and not just an evil asshole.

[theintelligentfool]

im so sick of embarrassment and anxiety being kind of in control of ?my entire life? at this point

[cyanomys]

An Announcement For All The ND Girlies

In case you, like me, did not realize this till today:

It's still a special interest, even if you think you're bad at it.

It's still a special interest, even if you haven't had the same one since you were a toddler.

It's still a special interest, even if your disabilities actively get in the way of you engaging with it.

It's still a special interest, even if you're anxious about it.

Nowhere anywhere did anyone say "in order for something to count as a special interest you need to be a fucking savant about it."

These are little made up words in our little made up language and if "special interest" is a term that can help you talk and think about your often-shamed experience in a neutral or even positive way, then go for it.

Thank you.

[astriiformes]

Surely being this sad is enough, why does it have to come with other Symptoms

[fromthemouthofkings]

.

[featherymainffins]

Binge-reading Dungeon Meshi because it's the only thing standing between me and suicide ngl.

[redflagshipwriter]

Fast Car Three (of four)

masterpost

“Why would I ever need help from Victor?” Danny scrunched up his brow and puzzled aloud after his passenger got out. He didn't mean to be rude but he was genuinely confused. Vic seemed nice enough, but he was kinda delicate, wasn't he? He was scared of Batman. What for? He was just some guy who was so risk-averse that he wore a motorcycle helmet out in public. He probably held the world's record for diagnosed anxiety disorders or something. 

‘I’m lucky he's so reactive,’ Danny chided himself not to be ungrateful. ‘If he wasn't, like, hyper-vigilant I might have had to talk to Batman. Horrific.’

He shuddered at the thought. He had planned to work a little more, but Danny decided to go back home and rest for a bit. His nerves were a little shot after the excitement of the morning. 

Oh, right. He hadn't checked what his tip was yet. Danny unfolded the bills and his eyes bugged out. “This is fifty dollars,” he said incredulously. “He paid me fifty dollars to take him like 10 blocks, with a 50 block detour.” 

Was Victor, like, okay? Danny cast a dubious look back in his rearview mirror and caught the barest glance of Victor's ridiculously jacked form disappearing into one of the murder warehouses. What a guy. Why'd he do-

“He was hitting on me?” Danny's voice reached a whistle pitch. Ah! Ah!!! Holy shit. What the hell? His face burnt red and he floored it back to his apartment complex, trying to get his heart rate under control. 

It was so obvious in retrospect! The weird awkward pauses in conversation! The huge tips! Asking for his number! 

Danny pulled to a stop at a yellow light rather than run it explicitly so that he could bang his head against the steering wheel. 

“I don't even know if he's hot,” Danny wailed. Instantly he knew it was a lie. He didn't know what Victor’s face looked like. He didn't remember what the photo had looked like anymore and the information was long gone. But he knew that Victor was tall, fit as fuck, and had really nice hands. 

Danny bit his lip and howled sadly. It helped, a little. He stole a glance at the receipt with Victor's phone number on it. He couldn't help but memorize the number. 

“I'm not going to call,” Danny told himself. Even if it was flattering. Victor might be a sketchy guy! Only sketchy people were out at the hours Danny worked. Danny couldn't afford association with anyone like that because he needed the authorities to never ever look at him. 

Also, and probably more importantly: you can't go to medical school if you have any kind of criminal record. If Danny was going to be Doctor Fenton the fourth and be able to provide his and Ellie's medical care, he needed to be a model citizen. He couldn’t trust that Vic would keep him out of whatever weird shit he was involved in.

Well. It wasn't like he was complicit in anything. Danny parked his beloved shitty car in the garage and took the stairs up to his apartment. He opened the door, saw Batman in his kitchen, and closed the door.

“Fuck.” 

Danny turned intangible and dropped like a rock through the floors. He was back in the driver's seat in less than 5 seconds. He turned it on and called Victor with one hand, because he'd just gotten the guy's number and he didn't exactly know a lot of Gothamites. “Hey, what do I do if Batman is in my apartment?” He said as soon as it connected. He turned the car on and peeled out onto the street.

“Wha- move, I guess. Is he there for fucking real?” Victor's electronic voice somehow managed to come across incredulous. “You probably shouldn't go back there. You're in your car?” A horn honked in the background. “You're faster,” Victor said. His confidence gave Danny a little. “I'll send you my gps point. Come to me and we can strategize how to get him off your tail.”

Danny swallowed hard. “Okay,” he said, and violently repressed the part of him asking why this nervous ass Gothamite would know any better than he did. At least Victor was a local. His phone pinged and he opened up the address. “Got it.”

“See you soon.” Victor hung up. 

Danny burnt rubber out of there, heart all the way up in his throat. Why was Batman after him? What did he know? He gasped for air, feeling like he was choking. He needed to be normal. He needed to- to get his degree and get his career and never ever have a whole fucking militaristic brancho of the government after him. He was one guy. When he was 14 he'd thought it was a funny game and the GIW were a bunch of chumps. But they were a bunch of chumps with money, weapons, and numbers. He couldn't afford to fuck with them. The fact that his parents gritted their teeth through associating with the GIW was the only thing that kept suspicion off of Danny.

He cycled through a panic attack and then into anger. What the hell, dude? Danny got that Batman had a bee up his ass about metahumans “in his city” (like he fucking owned it??) but Danny wasn't causing crime or fighting it. He was going to classes and trying to survive. Batman had no right to get involved in his business. 

He was steaming mad by the time he pulled up to where Victor was waiting for him. Victor hauled open an old style garage door and ushered him in quickly. Danny parked inside and sighed over the steering wheel. It took a few moments to center himself and then he got out. “Hey.” He lifted a hand in greeting and then shoved it in his pocket, feeling unimaginably weary. It wasn't even 5 am, jeeze. What was his life? “Thanks for answering.” He cleared his throat and bumped his butt against the hood of his car. “Helluva morning,” he complained dryly.

“It's no problem.” Victor seemed a little stiff and uncomfortable, standing in the middle of the other parking space. Either that or he was posing. “It's not your fault.”

Danny let out a snort. “It's not, but what does that matter?” He shrugged. And then he realized- “Wait, do you know what I am- scratch that.” He made a hand gesture to wave that away. Victor had known what Amity Park was offhand and he'd had a chance to see Danny phase the car through solid matter. “I guess what matters more is why Batman is on my ass. D’you think he knows?” 

Victor looked at him for a long time. “No…” 

“No, what?” Danny narrowed his eyes up at the taller man. 

“I don't think Batman knows that you're…” Victor made a gesture at Danny that explained nothing. “Whatever you are. I think he wants to ask you what you know about me.”

Danny stared blankly at him. “About you,” he echoed. He gave Victor a dubious look. “Why would he care about you?” 

Victor lifted a gloved finger and pointed at his helmet as if that was supposed to mean something. Danny tilted his head to the side like a bird and raised one eyebrow. “Because I'm the Red Hood?” Victor said dubiously. “You know that, right?” 

“You're Victor,” Danny said. He furrowed his brows. “Is - is The Red Hood like, your drag persona or something? Cool for you but it's not really relevant -” 

Victor tore off the helmet to reveal a face that was a lot younger than Danny had anticipated. “It's not a drag persona,” he snapped. “It's- I'm the Red goddamn Hood! You have to have seen me on the news!” 

Danny mutely shook his head. He thought about saying that he didn’t watch the news, but he sort of felt bad for the guy. It was probably safer not to comment.

“It's been non-stop,” Victor said, and Danny could really tell how incredulous he felt without that goofy voice filter effect removing the pout from his voice. “I dropped 13 human heads off at the police station yesterday. Come on!” 

He blinked. 

Wait.

One.

Second.

“You had me take you to the police with contraband?” Danny roared, incandescent with fury. 

“Uh.” Victor looked a little shifty now, even with that dweeb ass mask covering from his eyebrows to his cheekbones. “Yeah, I guess-”

“I'm going to go to medical school!” Danny roared, and suplexed the bastard. Victor went down with a howl and a valiant attempt to dig out Danny's eye with his bent index and middle fingers. Danny went selectively intangible and rolled them both over to start slapping Victor on his stupid face. “I-” slap “can't” slap “have” slap “a criminal record!” He leaned so far forward that his lips were nearly touching Victor's. “Capiche?” Danny jabbed a finger into Victor's stupidly ripped chest. 

“Um.” 

“Capiche? Understand? Do you get my meaning?” Danny howled. “I am an illegal entity! My paperwork is suspect!” He dug his knees a little harder into Victor's sides, struggling to control his strength. 

“Hey man, me too,” said Victor. He seemed mildly surprised by this commonality. “That's why I can't get a driver's license.” He put his hands up by his head. The movement made his incredible biceps sort of…pulse. Bulge? 

Danny blinked, attention caught by something about what Victor had said. “How'd you get your Uber account verified without- oh my god!” He threw his hands up in disgust. “You're not even Victor, are you? Your first word to me was a lie?” 

Not-Victor laughed. Danny was surprised enough that he loosened his grip. But the other guy didn't try to get out. “You're fun,” he said. He had a nice smile, crooked and kissable. Oh, fuck.

Danny felt his whole face burn red. Shit. Abort. He scrambled up, suddenly mortified that he was sitting on the other guy. “What's your name?” he demanded, trying to sound unaffected and mean. 

“Jay.” 

“You're sure this time?” Danny managed to work up a little more indignation. 

“Hands to god, on my grave,” Jay promised. Danny sort of hated that he believed it. 

Danny relented. “Fine.” It wasn’t like he had any moral high ground to stand on about maintaining secret identities, if he was honest. He huffed and crossed his arms. “How do I get Batman off my ass? I'm guessing you don't want me to talk to him about you.”

[disabirbity]

What are some things other psychotics do to differentiate between hallucination and reality? And what are ways some of you hold off symptoms? Looking to get a nice thread for people to help each other going here, this stuff isn't posted about enough.

Ways we prevent symptoms/stop them from progressing:

Make background noise to prevent auditory hallucinations. Most of ours start by hearing something that we can't identify the cause of in the background, and our brain starts the spiral from there. So we listen to music all the time and sleep with a fan on every single night, even in the winter. We just point it away from us if we don't want it making us cold.

Blame the cat (or other pets). Any weird movement, scratching, crunching or thumping? That's just Jerry, don't worry about it. He's a silly cat that does cat things even while we're sleeping. Any noise can be blamed on pets or the wind, which stops the paranoia from setting in and making everything bad.

We also tell ourselves that if there was an actual issue like an intruder or monster, the cat would hiss or scream, and the dog would be barking or making noise. This can be applied to many pets.

Stay busy. Focus on something--art, video games, tv shows and films, craft, gardening, anything that keeps you thinking. Don't let the anxiety get to you, just stay focused on your regular life.

Laugh at it. You're hallucinating a monster in your peripheral vision? Name it Fred and tell him to pay rent. You hear weird noises? Tell them to come back with a warrant. For us, treating symptoms like they're jokes or not serious makes us less anxious and therefore makes it easier to get back to a point where we're okay.

Having a friend or a pet near you can help. We feel safer and less alone when we see another living thing near us that's safe. We don't feel as much like we're trapped in another dimension that way.

How we differentiate between reality and unreality:

Touch it. This one only works for things you're not scared of, and if you don't have tactile hallucinations. It's not foolproof! But when we're seeing things like bugs and stuff, reaching out to touch them causes them to fade away so we know they're fake.

Ask friends and other trusted people if they "heard that" or "saw anything". If they're psychosis friendly, feel free to explain and be specific. If not, be vague and keep it to simple things like "hey did you hear anything? I couldn't tell what it was", if that will be safe enough. Having people to ground you can be great.

Look at how others around you are acting. Are they running or interacting with the thing in question in any way? Do they seem to look at it or no? If no one is noticing, it's less likely to be real.

These won't work for everyone and some of these might be harmful to others, but they're helpful to us. You know best what will help you!

Please feel free to add your own! We need more discussion around psychosis that isn't "scary evil person disorder and how to deal with people who have it".

[thebibliosphere]

Hey! I know that this isn't something you struggle with but since a lot of your other followers are disabled as well, it would mean a lot to me if you could publish this ask since I'd like to see if anyone else experiences anything similar to what I'm going through. I'm not asking for anyone to armchair diagnose me, I'd just appreciate not feeling so alone and scared and confused. My general physician is claiming that my anxiety is causing the issues I'll describe but I call bullshit on that:

About two years ago, cca 4 months after my top surgery, my body stopped being able to process oil. Whenever I'd eat anything that was made with oil of any kind, I'd get cramps in the abdomen after a while and I'd get diarrhea. Caffeine started to do this also but in a smaller intensity. I had a hysterectomy a bit after that and they checked my kidneys and liver so I know that those are both ok and not the cause. I also got checked for Celiac since it runs in the family. Because the issue wasn't getting worse and my then general physician was always dismissive, I let it be. When I wasn't having diarrhea, I was constipated, though I did have a bowel movement like once or twice a week. Fast forward to now. In August, it suddenly got a lot worse. At first, even a single drop of oil would make me feel ill. Then, the time period got longer - currently the cramps and the pain last for 48 hours afterwards. I also became unable to digest animal fats, the only meat I can eat is lean chicken and fish. Afterwards, gluten became an issue (Celiac is still negative), and then nuts as well.

My new GP, even though she believes it to be anxiety, gave me Itopride, and it worked for about 3 weeks - I had no cramps, pain, exhaustion, gas or bloating after eating, and I had a bowel movement once a day. But it stopped working two days ago, again without a reason, and the effects started being less effective about a week ago. Even when taking the meds, I have a movement only once in about 8 days, and laxatives make me gassy but nothing happens. I'm also not sure about this, but it seems that chicken is no longer safe either.

I think it's important that if I don't take Itopride, I never even feel the urge to go, so when I say that I've always been constipated, I mean that I don't even feel the need to have a movement. Lately, when I take Itopride, I do get the urge that I do always get when taking it, but it's like I can't go, so I always feel full.

I just feel super scared and I have no idea what's going on. I admit that I have a history of eating disorders (in recovery since May) and I did abuse laxatives about a year ago, but I don't think it was enough to cause such serious issues? I used to take them like once a week and for about 3-4 months.

I'd really appreciate knowing if anyone has ever experienced anything similar or knows about anything like this because I feel like my life is in shambles - can't go outside for long because I might need the toilet suddenly, or I'm in too much pain to walk, I'm afraid to eat, I often feel repulsive, I don't know what might happen in a month, I am becoming incapable of taking care of myself and my flat because I'm just so goddamn tired.

Ooft, I’m sorry. It sounds like you’ll need a colonoscopy to figure this one out, so if you haven’t had one yet, really push for a referral.

Fwiw, I do experience something like this, but it’s from mast cell inflammation in my GI tract. The doc prescribed me bentyl for when things flare up but I’m also on a fiber supplement (citrucel. It’s a lot gentler than other types) to try and keep that from happening. Also if you’re low on b vitamins, your stomach sometimes stops digesting food, so maybe also ask about getting your levels checked. Taking an additional b2 supplement means I can process fats and oils again which I couldn’t before.

I’m not saying this to be like “this is what you have” just throwing them out there as suggestions that might help you piece together what might be wrong.

I hope you get more helpful comments in the notes 💖

[furiousgoldfish]

When people hear stories about abuse, they often get fascinated and interested in the abuser, and the 'mystery' behind their behaviour. They'll want to analyze what happened to this person to make them act in such twisted and sadistic ways, and they want to find the past event or past abuse that would 'explain it all'. Abusers will also, very happily recount the past abuse whenever it's time to explain away their behaviour, so nobody could hold them accountable, because after all, they had had it rough! Of course they're now abusive, it's only natural.

Fascination with explaining away abuser's behaviour often leaves victim's situation forgotten and ignored. Victims are supposed to just 'get over it', not be so sensitive, and be careful to not turn into abusers themselves, because after all, being abused means you become an abuser, according to the abuser. Except it doesn't, and victims often don't end up abusing anyone else, especially not in the horrific ways they themselves have been abused. So we're having two opposing stories: one is told by the abuser, and it's easy, simple, explains everything away, and it says, abuse causes future abusers, I am the proof, I was abused and now I am like this. Victim's story goes: I was abused, and now I struggle to function, I have cptsd, I have flashbacks, nightmares, panic attacks, anxiety, eating disorder. I struggle with suicidal feelings and wishing I didn't exist. I feel like I'm not important at all in this world and like I have no community, no family, no home. Failure of everyone to help me while I was being abused caused me to feel like an outcast from society, someone who isn't a part of it, who doesn't matter. I would never do this to another person, I feel like a part of me was torn away into pieces and I struggle to put myself back together.

Now that story is complex, it implicates the society in failing to stop the abuse and making the victim's life worse, it showcases the actual consequences of abuse, which are not 'becoming evil', but feeling ultimately traumatized and damaged, struggling to find joy and happiness in life in the aftermath. Society doesn't want to hear that; it makes abuse into a problem that should collectively be dealt with, rather than pushing it all onto individuals who find themselves trapped in it and suffering. It's much easier to pretend that abuse just makes someone abusive, and for people who are abusive, we need to feel sorry for, because they were 'made to be like this', and for those abused, we just need to shame them and control them so they don't become abusive themselves.

There are abusers who have lived privileged lives, there are abusers who have been spoiled and rewarded for their acts of abuse. Most abusers don't show the symptoms of trauma nearly as bad as the victims of abuse do, they're most often just having the symptoms of 'I lash out my anger on those who cannot defend themselves' and 'everyone needs to feel sorry for me because I am having the roughest time on the planet'. Weird how the victims almost never develop these two symptoms! Victims will go and compare their situation to everyone who has it worse, and will struggle to express or direct anger at anything. 

So what is the actual source of abuse, if not past trauma? There's no study or statistics that can tell us that for sure, and abusers are careful to maintain their story and are not interested in being studied past what makes people feel bad for them. I would guess that it's a mix of entitlement, being in a position of power over someone vulnerable, never having to develop empathy or compassion, being rewarded continuously for acts of abuse, and social influence (admiring other abusers and wanting the power they have). A lot of social structures support and enable abuse of those who are at the very bottom of it, with very few protections against it. A lot of people believe it's their right to abuse someone if they have the power over that person, and gain power specifically for that cause. Abusers will have children and believe this is their property and they can do whatever they please with it, abuse being a part of it.

If we don't know where abuse comes from, how do we combat it? I don't believe in feeling sorry for the abusers or giving them endless attention, chances, excuses and rationalizations; instead I believe we should stand firm on the fact that abuse is inexcusable, and will have consequences, regardless of how it came into their behaviour. If abuse always had consequences, regardless of the history of the abuser, they would know they can't get away with it, that they can't later make everyone feel sorry for them and go on with their sob stories. Abuse would get them punished, not sympathized with.

I also believe the abuser's point of view should be decentralized; it should be victims who get to speak. It's easy for the abuser to show themselves in the positive light, minimizing the abuse, insisting the victim provoked or wanted it, that it wasn't that bad and it was done with 'best intentions'. But if we listened to victims, we would quickly understand that anyone who can do this to another person is monstrous, and should not be extended any sympathy. Abusers don't extend their sympathy to the victims when they abuse, so why should they expect to get it? Society should take abuse more seriously and put defenses into place, so abusers are not as easily able to put it behind closed doors. Resources for recognizing abuse, especially child abuse and intimate abuse, should be taught, spread and shared in society, so nobody would be able to convince another that suffering abuse is normal, or justified.

One of the biggest barriers to escaping abuse is victim confessing what's been happening to a trusted family member or a friend, and then this family member or a friend shaming and blaming them for it, instead of offering help and protection. It takes a lot of courage to even say something out loud, knowing the abuser would punish them for it, and then to be punished externally for speaking out, it's devastating. If abuse was taken seriously, and victims understood to be fault-free, but singled out, isolated and hurt in a way that nobody should be, and it was understood it's a societal responsibility to protect them against this, it would be easier to speak out, and get support. It often takes a society to help someone get free, because abusers are hell-bent on abusing once they start to, the victims need multiple barriers before abusers could get anywhere near them.

And why shouldn't we want that? If we know there are people in society such as children, young people, people without regular income, poor people, disabled people, compassionate people, marginalized people, people who struggle to recognize and flag down predators, shouldn't we want to make sure they're protected? That nothing bad happens to them, and they're free to live their lives safe from those who would do them continuous harm and make them want to die? We want our young, old, kind, vulnerable, sensitive, disabled, poor, compassionate and marginalized people safe and happy. There's no reason to throw them under the bus and leave them to suffer abuse.

[bangchansgirlsblog]

Can I please request Skz x 9th member with s3lfh4rm like…the boys trying to help and all those things (you don’t have to do it if you don’t want to)

The stages of healing.

warning: eating disorder and mentions of self harm.

Pairing: Skz x 9th member

Summary: the stages are healing are hard but Chan and the boys are here for you.

!not proofread!

Hope you enjoy this bby!

-🩷

*

"Baby you have to eat something" Chan says while pushing the plate back to my side of the table.

We were currently sat in the dining room and everyone had finished eating their breakfast leaving me and chan (who had also finished eating his breakfast) alone.

"Chan I don't want too, I'm full" I complain while looking at the full plate infront of me. It was obviously untouched but i could'nt bring myself to eat it. It was taunting me.

"You only had two bites and we have training all day today, I don't want you passing out my love. You need to eat something," He says while rubbing my back. He was being gentle i cant lie there but the worryb and frustration in his voice caused me to feel more guilthy at the fact that my brain was a constant maze and battle zone when it came to eating

"Look you can atleast just eat the mashed potatoes and peas so you can give you energy. Trust me it wont be bad," He tries to reason with me but I shake my head no. I was so full and food gave me so much anxiety.

I didn't want to grow fat, I wouldn't allow it.

"Channie I don't want too, please don't make me." I beg him while fiddling with my fingers.

"Baby, I'm starting to get worried. You only have one meal a day and when you do, you barely eat. Please don't make me forcefully feed you." his voice was soft and his touch was so warm. i knew he meant well bu the contant voices in my head wouldnt allow me to do anything.

I look at him terrified, mortified because would he really? I knew Chan was stronger than me but he wouldn't pin me down just to make me eat...right?

"Okay Mashed potatoes only." I sigh looking at the plate. Trying not to cry.

"There we go Babygirl" he smiles and kisses my temple. His eyes twinkle and i couldnt help but also smile at how pretty he was.

"what?" he asks chuckling

"your just so pretty"

"ugh stop changing the subject and eat" his cheeks were now a ligh pink and his ears turned a dark red. he rolls his eyes playfully and runs his hand through his hair.

"Yo Chan," Han says coming into the room and looking over at me and Chan. He gives him "the look".

"Is she having trouble eating again?" Han asks worried and Chan nods his head.

"But it's fine she's eating her potatoes today.”

Han smiles at that and comes over to ruffle my hair.

“I’m proud of you kid.” He beams and I poke out my tongue causing him to laugh.

"Chan can you help me look for the flash drive before we leave?" Han asks,

"Yeah sure, babe eat up. I'll be back." He tells me and leaves the room with Han. I let out a sigh of relief and quickly stand up and dunk all the food into the trash can. My heart was beating because I prayed that Chan would take long looking for the Flash drive but luck wasn't on my side because he came right back into the kitchen.

"Hey-" he stops and looks up from his phone. "are you done?"

"I finished them." I said smiling, well whatever you call a plastic smile. A guilty smile.

"You finished all the mashed potatoes?" He says coming close to me. I nod trying to avoid his eye contact.

"Okay then." He simply says before walking to the trash can.

"N-no don't look in there-" I try to stop him but it's too late. He had already opened it and looked inside. He turned to look at me and he was so mad I could tell.

"Your a liar." He growls. i gulp knowing the concequences of my actions.

"i ate half of them?" i sigh and look up at him. He just shakes his head and lets out a frustrated sigh.

"i dont get it! why dont you want to eat anymore? We were doing so well,"

"is everything okay in here?" Felix's head pops up at the corner of the door.

"she just threw out all her food-"

"again? thats the 4th time this week." he frowns and makes his way into the the room.

"exactly my point,"

"i did eat chan, i ate half the potatoes-" i tug on my long sleeves sweaters and look at the both of them.

He frowns and looks down then back up, searching for my eyes.

“Can I see your wrists?” He asks looking back down at my fingers. His eyes were furrowed. Almost in like a confused way?

My eyes go wide at his request but I quickly shove them away.

“Chan they’re ugly, I don’t want you to see them.” I frown. My voice quivers. The tears that had disappeared were now reappearing.

“Chan I haven’t been cutting I promise-“

“Then let me see, I know you too well my love. Let me see.” His eyes are soft now and were reaching out for both my hands that were covered with my hoodies sleeves.

I sigh and give in. His hands are soft against mine but he pulls up the sleeves. He examines the scars that were now slowly healing. His lips in a soft smile.

“See I told you, I promised you I stopped.”

“Hey hey hey and I’m so proud of you. I just wanted to make sure because I care and love you. You’re doing a good job healing.” his hands wrap around my waist and pull me against his body.

“Ew gross get a room.” Felix says killing our moments. Chan chuckles and pushes him away.

"The cars are here everbody!" Hyunjins voice echoes through the house.

"okay this conversation isnt over yet, here take the banana and we'll talk about it after practice yeah?" he kisses my forhead and hands me the banana before we grab our bags and make our way to the car.

"go ahead eat it, im watching you." chan raises one eyebrow while staring at me. "She still isnt eating?" Leeknow asks after listening to our conversation.

"i am! chans just being a overprotective," i sigh and peel the banana.

"i am not!" he defends himself and i let out a giggle while slowly starting to chew the banana and finishing it. "see i told you," i poke my tongue out at him and he let out a little laugh.

"okay whatever but your still having lunch with me." i mentally sigh dreading the feeling of the banana sitting in my stomach.

i play with chans's silver braclet as we wait to arrive at the jyp building. It didnt take long. It was just a 15 minute ride once we arrived. we all make our way up the building to our normal dance room and set everything up.

"lets start with stretching and then get to God's menu, yeah?" we all groan as we get to our places and minho plays the song.

*

[sweetstars-posts]

SKINNY,

M. STURNIOLO x FEM!SINGER!READER

(if you don't want to be a singer, it could be anything in the public eye, it’s only mentioned a little!!)

WARNINGS — mentions of eating disorders, depression, anxiety, ALSO pet names (bc apparently that triggers ppl or smth).

a/n — this is a deep story based on billie eilish’s new song, skinny. as someone who faces troubles with eating, i wanted to make this for me and for those who need it <3

word count — 1.5k

(not proofread)

The rain is hitting the glass of my bay window as you stare helplessly out of it. The window opened a crack; the smell of fresh rain wafting into your room.

Your eyes are dull and lifeless — like you’re waiting for something that won't ever arrive. There's an aching feeling in your stomach, one that isn’t just nerves.

Your body ached as you haven’t moved from the soft plush cushions of the bay window for a couple hours.

Nothing in life felt appealing right now. The constant bodyshamming from the public eye got you back into a seemingly never-ending spiral.

People only seem to like you if you’re skinny. Eating was always a struggle, but now it almost feels like a game. Competing with yourself over and over again for trying to reach a certain weight goal that you won’t realistically achieve.

Everyone keeps saying you’re happier now. But are you? No. Complete sadness overtook you, but it was okay, because now you’re skinny.

But you also felt guilty.

You haven’t spoken to your boyfriend Matt in a couple days. You’ve been dating for 3 years and he knows every single thing about you. You still don’t have the energy to get up and try to find your phone which is nowhere to be found at the moment.

But knowing Matt, he probably knows what’s happening again. This seems to always happen. It’s like a record player that keeps repeating and repeating until the vinyl slowly starts to scratch and warp.

Your eyes falter slightly but they never seem to fully close. It’s like they can’t.

Your mind is racing 20 miles per hour but you can’t seem to comprehend a single word going through your brain.

The phone rings, the sound coming from somewhere in the mess of sheets on your bed.

A little while has passed and your phone still hasn't stopped. The obnoxious ringing made you even more aggravated. Yet somehow you felt stuck, like you couldn’t move to get your phone.

The sound absorbed into a dull hum from all the thoughts racing through your head.

You felt numb and lifeless. Like you were viewing yourself in a VR headset.

Time shaped into nothingness as your bedroom door creaked open. Your boyfriend, Matt’s, head peeks through the door.

His eyes soften as he sees your fragile figure on the soft cushions.

He closes the door behind him as he walks into the room. He makes a mental note to clean your room for you later. As he nears you, he sits on the floor, in front of the bay window.

His soft hands, grab your hands lightly, “I got you, it’s okay,” he finally breaks the silence.

Short jagged breath’s release your mouth, as you finally move your eyes away from outside, to him. He slowly moves to hold your head between his hands.

Tears slowly start to prick your eyes, yet you still don’t look away from him. Tears flow and flow, you have no control. Strangled breaths release, as you struggle to catch air.

“Hey, hey, I got you,” Matt’s fingers brush your tears away, his cold rings sending a series of chills down your spine.

Matt brought you into a warm embrace, lowering you down from on top of the seat, to his lap. He cradled you as if you were a broken fragile doll.

He pressed kisses towards your head, letting you release all those pent up emotions.

Neither of you knew how much time had passed, nor did either of you care.

Your breath’s evened out, and your tears died down. And Matt was still there by your side.

“Do you wanna talk?…” Matt questioned after a while.

“I’m just….tired” Your small tired voice let out.

Matt kissed your nose lightly before slowly standing up, pulling you up with him. He made his way to the bathroom connected to your room.

Upon setting you on the counter, he turns on the bath, letting it run for a little. He got everything ready — your clothes, a brush, and got all the small essentials, as you got in the tub.

He washed your hair, lathering the shampoo lightly. He then grabbed your brush and slowly brushed through the large matted knots.

“How about…after this we go back to mine? We can watch Inside Out because I know how much you love that movie,” His offer makes you smile, “And then we can work our way from there, how does that sound?”

You nod in response, too exhausted to speak.

After finishing up, Matt slowly helped you into one of his large sweaters and some pajama pants. Matt started to grab your phone and small things you would need to stay over (although most of your things are already at the triplets house).

“You ready, baby?” Matt extends his hand out towards you.

You grab his hand with a little small smile. Whatever joy you had in you was put towards Matt right now.

Matt led you to his car, opening the passenger seat. You could tell Chris sat there last. The seat was reclined and the seat was altogether far. You smiled at the way Chris left it.

“This kid doesn’t know how to fix his seat, I swear” Matt complained, as he helped you fix the seat.

Matt soon got into the driver side soon after closing your door.

“Where too?” Matt asked gently.

You looked at him in confusion. Weren’t you going to his house?

“C’mon, baby, we’re going somewhere to eat. Even if it’s something small, just… get something in your system.” Matt rubbed his hand against your knee.

The thought of food makes you want to throw up on the spot. You hated that he knew, but you loved that he cared.

“Nowhere..” You mumble quietly, head against the window.

You didn’t want to make this harder on Matt. But the genuine guilt fills you by just thinking about laying a finger on food.

“Sweetie, you need something.” Matt started the car, but ended up driving towards his house, “When we get home, you can have some toast. Even one slice, okay?”

You silently nod.

Matt pulled into the garage. As you and Matt make it inside, you can already hear Chris and Nick yapping about some movie they are watching in the living room.

As much of a bad mood you could be in, those triplets will always put a smile on your face.

Matt’s hand rests on the lower section of your back, gently guiding you through the basement. The two of you slowly walk up the stairs.

Chris and Nicks heads snapped towards the stairs as they heard footsteps, obviously Matt had told them.

Nick came running up to you guys first. He pulled you into a light hug, holding the back of your head with his hand, rocking you ever so slightly.

He pulled away, his hands resting on your face, “I’m so glad you’re okay, kid.”

Chris pushed Nick out of the way, “HEY! My turn”

Chris pulled you into a bone crushing hug, way more strong than Nicks. You smiled slightly into his shoulder.

“We were all so scared,” Chris whispered quietly.

As you guys pulled away, Matt grabbed your hand again, walking you towards his room, but not before bidding a small bye to Nick and Chris.

Matt closed the door behind him, as you went to sit on your designated side of his bed.

“I’ll be right back okay?” Matt kissed your head gently, before walking out of the door.

Matt had started to make a small piece of toast. Knowing you won't want to eat the other half, he put it on a plate for Chris to eat later.

Matt walked the short trip to his room, pulling the door open.

“Here, love” Matt put the plate on your lap.

You slowly grabbed at the piece of toast. Guilt swarmed you like a bunch of bees. Instead of taking a bite, you just stayed there.

Matt was now seated on his side, “It’s okay, Baby, it’s fine,” He rubbed your arm encouragingly.

Slowly but surely, you ate the piece of toast. Matt put on “Modern Family” while you ate. He never pushed you to eat faster, he was comforting and only wanted you to be comfortable.

“Good job!!” Matt’s large smile was contagious, it made you smile too.

As some time passed, you guys just stayed in each other’s presence. Not many words were said, but it was a comforting silence that everyone needs in their lives.

You and Matt were all cuddled up, your head resting on his chest. His hand rubbing your back gently.

His soft touch and actions, that lured you into a soft slumber.

“Goodnight, my love” Matt kissed the top of your head, himself feeling awfully tired.

At the end of the day, all you needed was a loving soul to guide you through your troubles. And Matt was that person. He was the light in your dark cave.

[larissareadings]

It’s okay, love.

➤ pairing: Draco Malfoy x gryff!fem!reader (house barely mentioned).

Request: None

tw: eating disorder; mentions of bullying and anxiety attack.

Note: I’ve wrote this based on personal experiences and what I needed at the time. DO NOT read this if it’s not comfortable for you. If you or someone you know is struggling with an eating disorder, please reach out for help.

English is not my native language so I’m sorry if there is any mistakes. This is my first fic ever so it might not be so good. I hope you enjoy it though.

Summary: Y/N is a keeper at the Gryffindor (barely mentioned) team, who has been developing an eating disorder and Draco Malfoy seems to be only one who noticed it.

Y/N always had problems with her body image. At her early teens at Hogwarts she used to be mocked, mostly by Pansy Parkinson and her friends, because she was too thin. When Y/N turned 14, she started gaining weight since she was eating too much due to her increased anxiety, and then she was again being mocked, except now because she was getting fat, and everyone talked about it, even when they didn’t want to be mean, saying things like “you should get on a diet”. By 16, Y/N started focusing on her weight loss journey, she was finally gonna be health, delicate and beautiful as the other girls her age.

Some months later

It was right after the quidditch match between Gryffindor and Ravenclaw. They won, of course, since you’ve let too many quaffles go through the goal hoops. You’re a keeper at the Gryffindor team, and you’re good at it. When you’re not dizzy anyway.

“It happened again, didn’t it?”

you heard the familiar voice behind you. It sounded soft, which was not a usual thing. You closed your locker and turned around to face Malfoy. The others had already left the locker room, so now it was just you and him.

"It happened what again, Malfoy?" you asked him, trying to sound indifferent, when you were all, but that. He had some power over you, it was irritating actually, how nervous you would get when he was around.

Malfoy has been acting weird these past few months, he didn't tease you anymore. When his friends said anything about you, he would either just leave or just stare at you, but never laugh with them, never contribute to their bullying. He was the only one in the group who said nothing about your recent weight loss. The others did. Pansy would never loose the chance to say you finally learnt to shut your mouth.

You hated that he hadn't said anything, you worried you hadn't lost enough weight for him to notice, and you wanted him to see that you could be pretty too.

He looked in you up and down, checking you, before focusing on your eyes again and said "Dizziness."

You didn't understand why he was saying this, why he would notice you feeling dizzy. "Yeah.. just a little. I'm bit distract that's all". A few seconds went by where he said nothing, just stood there looking at you. Was that concern in his eyes? You couldn't tell. "Look, uhmm, I don't know where this is coming from, but I have to go. If you have any jokes to make about me being a bad keeper, or an ugly, fat bad keeper or whatever" you noticed him flinch at that, as if it had hurt him. "say it now or leave it for tomorrow 'cause I'm really tired and just wanna go to my bed"

He walked towards you, enough for him to talk low and look closely into your eyes, making you even more nervous, and said "You have to stop this, Y/N, it's making you sick."

"I don't know what you talking about"

Now he let out a breath in disbelief. "Oh, you don't know what I'm talking about? Let my clarify to you, then, It's a very simple concept, really, I thought you would know it by now." He was actually getting angry. "In order to live, people have to eat. It's the only way to get nutrients into your body. Really, Y/N, that's basics"

"I know about that. It's a good thing I eat, then, right?'' You said also angry now with his sudden aggressiveness.

"Do you though? 'Cause what I'm seeing-" he said gesturing to your body "is a girl fading away, a girl who plays with food at lunch instead of actually eating it, a girl who who used to be a great keeper, but now can't barely stand in a broom because is too weak to do so." He could feel his heart in his throat. He was so nervous, so scared you would fall off that broom. More than he could ever admit. He was keeping his worry to himself for months, hoping you would stop, hoping someone would intervene, but no one did. People just kept either praising your weight loss or humiliating you. But he couldn't stop himself anymore, if you had got hurt today, he would never forgive himself.

You felt your heart skip a beat at that. He was worried. Really worried. You didn't know how to react. You felt seen, someone saw what you were going through. But you also felt good, reassured. So you WERE thinner, and he noticed. “You know what? I don’t get it. Weren’t you and your friends the ones who said I was too heavy to play quidditch? that my weight would slow me down? that I would fall? that the broomstick couldn’t take it?” you now had tears in your cheeks. Your vision was blured by the tears and, God, you were so tired.

Malfoly’s heart might’ve actually broke in that moment. He was so angry at everyone who didn’t notice you hurting yourself, when he was actually the who drove you into it.

‘‘I am so tired.” you kept talking now, tears rolling down your face. “Why is it never enough? I’m tired. I’m thin, I’m ugly. I’m fat, I’m ugly too, and disggusting. I need a diet. I do a diet. and now fading away? OH well, just let me be happy for once.and I am happy now, ok? I’m finally beautiful.” You were talking so fast and you were feeling so weak. Malfoy saw that, so he immediately hold you in a hug, preventing you from falling. Your head were now in his chest, and you were trying to stop crying, trying to make your heart go back to it’s normal rhythm.

“It’s okay. It’s okay, love.” He said stroking your hair. “I’m sorry” he said almost inaudible.

After a few minutes you heart and breathing were finally stable again. You detached yourself from his harms, although his hands were still in both sides of your arms. You looked up to him with watery eyes. You hated crying in front of people. "I'm sorry" you said.

"It's okay." He said again, looking back at you. Taking his hesitant hand, like he was afraid to actually break you, to clean your cheeks from the tears. "I promise".

"Why are you doing this?" you were really confused. You had never seen Malfoy this gentle and.. scared?

He caressed you cheeks while looking from your eyes to your mouth. He then joined your foreheads and spoke really low, like a whisper. “I need you, Y/N.”

“what?” you said also in a whisper. you couldn't believe what you were hearing.

“I need you, and I need you to get better. This is making me crazy. I’m scared all the time. I’m scared you’re gonna fall off the stairs, or the broom. I’m scared of you getting hurt. Please.. just- just let me help, ok? Tell me what to do, and I’ll do it. Anything.”

“Can you.. uhmm. eat? with me, I mean” you asked detaching your heads to look in his eyes.

“Sure” He said immediately. “Is that all?”

“No.” you let out a breath in relief with his answer and smile a little. “But it may be a start. I think”

“Ok.” He returned your smile. “You should probably talk with someone else, though. Someone who could help more. A professor, maybe. I’ll go with you, if you want me to.”

“Yeah.. ok. Can we go to McGonagall, then? Not now, please. When I’m ready.”

“Of course. Anyone you want, love.” He said looking back at you before you hugging him again. Letting your head rest in his chest while he stroke your hair again. This felt like home to both of you. You were so scared, but he was hopeful. He would do anything for you to feel better.

This whole not eating thing made you so tired, but it was also so addictive. You didn’t know if you could ever get better, but maybe this was a start. Having someone to lean on, someone who cared.. it certainly helped.

[catboybiologist]

About to fall asleep ramble time, this has been kicking around in my brain for a bit and I need to get some form of this thought out

I was diagnosed with ADHD and gender dysphoria one day after the other back in August. Extremely stereotypically zillenial of me, I know. Handling both of these has dramatically improved my quality of life. yes yes insert discourse about how much you need to have dysphoria as a diagnosis, it's just a tool for the medical system that's ultimately meaningless, that's not what this is about.

There's one thing that was really, really weird about the experience of getting care for both of these.

Most treatment and public talk of transition and motivations to transition are about misery. How much despair your birth sex gives you and how gender affirming care is the only stopgap against suicide (oftentimes, used as a barrier to entry that it should only be given when it's at the suicidal point). How crushing dysphoria is.

In contrast, most of the public perception of ADHD is this cutesy, "omg look I'm so quirky" kind of thing. People talk of ADHD "superpowers" and how neat it is to have hyperfixations (I'm low key starting to dislike that word, even though it's an accurate description of many things- it's very overused).

My actual experience has been almost exactly the opposite.

I absolutely had gender dysphoria, and still do, and misery associated with being AMAB. But is that what defines my trans experience? No, and in fact, it feels like a more incidental blip in it. My trans experience has mostly been defined by joy, by feeling my mind and body slowly make me more and more content with my default existence day after day. And the exploration of it all! The social roles, the romantic dynamics, the friendship dynamics, even small aesthetics like clothes and makeup, and again, the body and mood changes. It's incredible and it brings me joy so much of the time. That, more than anything, has defined my trans experience.

In contrast.... ADHD has objectively made nearly every aspect of my life more miserable. Working with my therapist and my pysch, as well as feeling what it's like to be properly medicated, have shown me extremely well how much the constant feelings of misery I always seemed to have were caused by ADHD. ADHD means being unable to receive a baseline level of dopamine to function under normal circumstances, so your brain starts looking for any way it can get new sources. And wouldn't ya know it, novel stimuli are a perfect way to do that. Keep in mind that dopamine isn't just "the pleasure molecule" it's a neurotransmitter with a broad range of functions. If you don't have ADHD, or even if you do, I want you to think about how miserable of an existence that is. Your default state is depression and inability to do things. It has been for me for most of my life. Additionally, anxieties creep into your head and distract you far more easily. You're less functional. You can't do simple things most of the time. You're distracted and have anxiety spikes easily. Continuous tasks are hard. And day in, day out... You are miserable. Almost constantly.

Oh also, you're easily addicted to extreme novel stimuli. For me, it was self harm. And when that stopped working... Well, I was in a state of mostly background depression that was only punctuated by spikes of massive, overwhelming anxiety that my brain hooked itself on. At a certain point, I just wanted it to end, by any means necessary.

It's been almost ten years since that day, and at this point I can genuinely say that I'm glad I'm still here.

But it wasn't dysphoria that did that (it contributed a bit, but still wasn't the biggest factor). Or a depressive disorder. Or bipolar. Or whatever the big, more "scary" mental illnesses or neurodivergencies are. They tried to treat me for some of them, and it ended horribly. My symptoms fit mixed presentation ADHD perfectly, including my physiological response to stimulants. They don't fit anything else. I likely don't have any strong comorbidities, unless you count the symptom-level anxiety and depression. ADHD did all of that to me. The "cute and quirky" one.

By the time I got around to a diagnosis, my pysch was astounded that I made it as far as I did with symptoms as severe as mine. Tackling ADHD has removed so much misery from my life, it's indescribable. Adderall has been the only thing that has ever actually gotten rid of my constant anxiety.

It's not fucking cute. Keeping with this being the flip side to my dysphoria, I do try to keep it light most of the time, and I join in on all of the classic "whoopsie doopsie my ADHD" trains and jokes. You don't have to stop making those, hell, they're fun. There are cute and funny parts to having ADHD, and ways it's made my personality what it is. But don't forget that this is also something that makes people genuinely suffer well beyond the "oopsie I'm such a procrastinator!!!" Type thing.

Idk where this thought is going. It's just kind of an observation that's been kicking around in my head for a bit. So uh. Hope it at least generates discussion? Feel free to add your experiences if you think it'll help you. But fuck I need to sleep lol

[midiosaamor]

❪ ★ ❫ 𝐒𝐀𝐅𝐄 𝐒𝐏𝐀𝐂𝐄.

𝐏𝐀𝐈𝐑𝐈𝐍𝐆𝐒: aaron warner x ADHD fem!reader

𝐒𝐘𝐍𝐎𝐏𝐒𝐈𝐒: in where aaron warner helps his girlfriend with her ADHD.

𝐖𝐀𝐑𝐍𝐈𝐍𝐆𝐒: slight burnout, pet names, stress, slight eating disorder, mental illnesses, anxiety(?), comfort, fluff, use of Y/N, fem reader, modern AU (this is totally a self insert but idc because I NEED TJIS RN OKAY DONT BLAME EM GUYS BLAME GOD)

𝐖𝐎𝐑𝐃𝐒: 1343

𝐀/𝐍: i like totally needed this because i just got overwhelmed and had a breakdown yesterday and i dont feel motivated to do shit todsu (its glimg to go away tomorrow but let me be dramatic smh) ANYWAS THIS IS FOR ALL MY ADHD GIRLIES WHO ARE LIKE ME AND SUFFER WITH THIS <333 (also idk if this is realistic or just normal for yall, i just put the things that happen to me everyday that classifies as adhd😾)

𝐄𝐗𝐓𝐑𝐀 𝐀/𝐍: ykw idk if tjis ks good or not i made this at like 1 am so im tirdx bfo but whayever ima post it and see what happens lol

𝐌𝐀𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓. 𝐀𝐀𝐑𝐎𝐍 𝐖𝐀𝐑𝐍𝐄𝐑.

𝐄𝐃𝐈𝐓𝐄𝐃: ✓

𝐓𝐀𝐆𝐒: @reminiscentreader @never-enough-novels @ilyiwdtpyiwmyhmtkys @evaswarner @sc11vb @sophiesonlinediary @starrynightsxo @f4iry-bell @his-littlefox @viivdle @aaron-warner @reyreadersblog @urbanflorals @heqrtlcss (ask if you want to be added or removed from taglist! <3)

1. executive dysfunction.

(ONE example: focusing too much on one thing, OR, hyperfixation.)

now, you know that you were supposed to be doing something else. it’s about 11:20, and that’s when you and aaron eat lunch together. but, you had to finish this.

plus, it’ll only take a little while, right? it isn’t like you’ll spend thirty more minutes writing a synopsis for a book you read for a friend who asked about it.

wrong.

ten minutes later, your shoulder gets gently pushed. your eyes immediately trail to the owner of the hands and find aaron.

“i know, i know, i’m almost finished,” you say, going back to quickly typing on the keyboard of your laptop. you could feel aaron frown, his eyes still on your head.

“love, it’s time for lunch. you know you have to eat, right?” he asks, putting his hands on the armrest of your chair. though, you barely pay attention to it. “i know. i’m almost finished, though.”

aaron sighs before you find yourself getting turned around in your chair, making your arms fling to the armrest. the blond leans down so he can meet your eyes, his face stern.

“y/n. you know i love you—so much—but it’s time to stop and eat lunch. you know that,” he says, sternly, his eyes focused on you.

you frown and glance back to your laptop before sighing and agreeing with him. “okay, okay,” you grumble, getting up from your chair.

aaron smiles as he follows behind you as you walk into the living room to eat lunch with him.

2. uncontrollable fidgeting.

(a physical reaction to stress or concentration.)

you couldn’t help it. you practically needed something to fidget with. this day was already stressful with you forgetting to set your alarm clock, causing both you and aaron to wake up late; not to mention work being stressful and hard for you.

it was an instinct to fidget whenever you were stressed.

you quickly put your keys down once you made it into your house and immediately looked around for aaron. sadly, you didn’t see him in the living room, or kitchen, so you went to your shared bedroom.

luckily, you find aaron on the bed, who, surprisingly, is wearing a grey hoodie and sweatpants. you don’t have time to gawk before you walk up to your boyfriend and practically lounge on top of his chest, making him grunt in shock.

“angel?” he asks, turning off the tv with the remote before his hands wrap around your hips.

you start to fidget with the strings of his hoodie, tugging on them and folding them up. normally you’d have one of those pop-its or a different kind of fidget toy, but this time, you don't.

aaron thankfully figures out what’s happening when you don’t respond and quickly leans over to his bedside counter, careful not to move you, and gets one of the fidget toys he got for you.

huh, you didn’t even realize that was there.

“here, angel,” he says softly, smiling whenever you look up at him take the toy from his hands and start to fidget with it on his chest.

you see him grab the remote and turn on the movie that he was watching before moving one of his hands behind his head, his other hand still resting on your hip.

3. choice paralysis.

(inability to choose choices or decisions.)

you bite your lip in stress, your fingers tapping against your thigh. you and your friends decided to hang out, and they wanted to meet up somewhere again.

it was going fine until one of your friends decided to let you choose since you’d never chosen before.

“so, where are we going, y/n?” your friend beside you asks, lifting an eyebrow at you. it isn't their fault that they don't know about your adhd. only your close friends do, but they’re not here right now. and that makes this 10x worse.

“uhm… i don’t know,” you say with a shrug. saying i don’t know to things was always easier than making decisions. choosing made you panic, stressed, even though you didn’t know why.

“come on, y/n. you can’t just say i don’t know about this,” your other friend sighs, looking up at you from the floor. you nervously bite your lip, moving your feet around.

“well—i don’t really know places y’know? why don’t one of you guys choose?” you asked hopefully, hoping that they would spare you.

they didn’t.

“nope. it’s your turn to choose. we all chose,” the friend beside you says, shrugging nonchalantly. you begin to wish that aaron was there right now.

good thing that apparently, he’s a genie.

“you could just go to that cafe that just opened.” your friends turn to the voice who butted in, revealing aaron, leaning against the kitchen counter with his phone in hand.

“oh, yeah! i heard that it’s really good!” another friend butts in, smiling. the friend beside you frowns, looking at you. “are you sure you don’t want to choose this time? i mean we could let you choose—“

“no, no! it’s fine!”

4. trouble recalling commonly used words.

(you don’t remember the word you need to use, even though you’ve used it a hundred times before.)

you were pacing around your room with aaron sitting on your bed, watching you with a smile as you use your hands to exclaim your excitement about a new book you’ve read.

he always knew that books were one of your hyperfixations, and he never said no to you asking to buy piles of books.

“and then—oh my god—he literally smiled. like, he knew! he literally knew that he was going to win the case even though she worked so hard to collect—“ you cut off, trying to remember the word that you were going to use.

“uhm.. wait, what was the word—“

“proof?”

“yes! proof that he was a bastard and deserved to go to jail, but no! they just had to believe him over poor becca and nat who literally are in the fucking right! like, can you believe that?!” you rant, hitting your hand with your other hand in a chopping motion.

aaron lifts an eyebrow. “that sounds like the trial was flawed,” he says. words like that always came easy for him, which you never understood. you always had to think about easy words for some reason.

“it is! like, he’s literally so stupid and annoying—and—wait—and—irritating!” you groan, running a hand down your face.

aaron can’t help but chuckle at your aggression, hiding his smile with his hand. “shut up, aaron,” you deadpan.

5. poor sense of time.

(forgetting what time or day it is.)

oh shit, oh shit. you forgot all about this project. you quickly rush on the paper, your handwriting messy but you’re too stressed to care about that now.

you thought that it was wednesday. not thursday. how could it be thursday? you literally checked the time before and it was thursday. or was it?—you don’t remember anymore.

“angel?” aaron asks curiously, looking at your rushed state. “wait.” you continue to write down on the paper quickly, knowing that the deadline is in five minutes.

“shit, i thought it was wednesday,” you rant to aaron, continuing to scribble down words. “did you forget again?” aaron asks, though it isn’t judgmental.

“yes,” you groan, sticking your hand in your hair so you can lay the side of your face on your palm. “literally, how is it thursday?”

aaron just signs before walking closer to you, putting a hand on your back, and beginning to rub it gently in a form of comfort.

“well, now you know it’s thursday. and, you’re almost finished. even if it’s past the deadline, you’ll be finished with it quickly. don’t worry, love,” he says softly.

you glance up at him before swallowing, nodding your head softly. “yeah, yeah. thank you, darling,” you mumble, calming down. though, you still slightly rush to get through the paper so it doesn’t get late.

[luckbr1nger]

I am so sick of myself

Recently, I saw a video that said something along the lines of, if you haven't changed yet, it's because you aren't sick enough of who you are. Thinking about being in the same situation once again next year sent me into a panic, I cannot let this happen again.

This is going to be a long ranting post about where I'm at now and what I want to do to change it. Maybe you're in a similar position, this is a no-judgment opportunity for us all to finally make the changes we need to be happy with ourselves <3

TW: Disordered eating, self harm, mental health

What I Want to Change

Health

I am probably suffering the worst with food recently than I have in years. I have slipped back into bad eating habits where I will restrict myself, binge and then purge. I recently lost a lot of weight in a short amount of time and when I started to stagnate, I spiralled to try and keep losing the weight and it all just got worse and worse.

I have PCOS and insulin resistance so weight loss has never been easy for me, and I have never been thin. Last year, I managed to lose enough weight to leave the obese BMI category, but I am still overweight and I would like to be safely in the middle of the normal range. This is important to me because of my PCOS, there is an increased likelihood of other health issues being overweight.

I would also like to exercise more and start to build muscle, I am so unfit and muscle is so important for supporting your bones and physical health. Because of years of disordered eating, I have quite severe vitamin deficiencies, especially Vitamin D and B12 which has resulted in incredible fatigue leaving me unable to exercise. I have had a course of B12 injections and I take tablets 3 times a day and I'm hoping this allows me to have more energy and exercise more.

I also finally passed my driving test and when I get a car I am going to be able to go to the gym regularly!

Finances

I have a long history of self harming and reckless behaviours due to my BPD and CPTSD. I have been clean from self harming for about a year now, but I struggle a lot with other forms of harm such as overspending, shopping addictions and other harmful addicting behaviours but spending is the worst currently.

I have gotten myself into a lot of debt on multiple credit cards, a loan and unregulated credit like Klarna/clearpay. It's something I am so ashamed of and I am constantly in a cycle of having to pay hundreds a month to repay my debts. I want to be out of this cycle and I want to learn better coping skills for managing my mental health that doesn't involve destructive behaviours.

Hoarding

This goes together with the above, but because of my overspending, my surroundings are so cluttered. I live with my parents and my room is so tiny, I don't already have space and yet with my spending, I keep buying more and more and more and my room keeps become more cluttered and more unliveable.

I would like to downsize, I am by no means a minimalist and I have no real desire to become a minimalist, however I do not want to continue the level of consumerism that I have been. I would only like to buy the things that I need, and I would like to use up the things I have first and stop feeling attached to objects I don't need so that I can finally declutter.

Other

The areas above are the most important to me right now, the most pressing areas that I would like to sort out. However, there are some 'smaller' less dire areas I want to work on.

Hobbies: I want to focus on the hobbies I am already working on and stop picking up every hobby I hear about

Socialising: I struggle a lot with social anxiety, but I would like to slowly try and socialise more, whether it is meeting up more with my friends or trying to make more friends and put myself out there more!

What am I going to do about it?

I have some overarching, large goals for these that I am going to write down here to work towards making my life better, at the beginning of each month, I will break down my large goals into smaller goals and then at the end of each month I will do a review of how things went, anything that went well, what maybe didn't go well and my goals for the following month off the back of that.

Goals

General

Each day, do one thing I don't want to do, but need to do

Before each week, write a post on my tumblr about how the last week went and my goals for the upcoming week

Each month write a review of the last month and my goals for the coming month

Health

Reach 100-110lbs (I know it's fairly low, I'm very short, and this weight is healthy for my height)

Create a regular workout routine where I am weight training 3x a week

Reach a point where I am doing yoga at least 5 times a week, I notice I am calmest and my mental health is best when I have a regular yoga practice

Remember to take my B12, multivitamins, inositol and antidepressants regularly (I am so bad at this)

Be able to run a 5k (my cardio health isn't great, so I would love to reach a point where I can do this)

Only having takeaways when my boyfriend is down (he lives far away and when he is down it is a treat for us to get a takeaway)

Finances

Pay off my credit card debts (Current total: 3259.30)

Pay off my flexpay credit (Current total: 1297.70)

Pay off my loan (10744.47)

Low Buy 2025 (more details in another post)

Save 1k

Each week, write down what I'm spending and log it

Each month, take this and see where my money is going

Hoarding

Declutter 1 area of my room each month until I am happy with it

Other:

Hobbies

To stop myself from picking up a million more hobbies, I've included some goals for the hobbies I already have to keep me busy

Complete the colouring books I already have before ordering more

Sew an outfit for myself!

Start up ice skating weekly again

Read down my TBR (current number of unread books: 422)

Go on a photography day out

Create a language learning plan I will stick to weekly

Once Dad has sorted the herb garden, choose some seasonal plants to plant

Begin writing again, I have so many ideas and get too worried with perfectionism, but I need to put that aside and just write!

This isn't a 'New Year, New Me' project, these are continuous, ongoing habit and behavioural changes. If you want to join me, please do!! I want this to be a safe space for people who want to better their lives, and we can all support eachother <3