#and the therapist also asked us to describe each other

[f1owermoon]

thinking abt the ways ive heard people describe me and going 🥹🥹🥹🥹🥹💘💘💘💘💘🫶🫶🫶🫶

[gxlden-angels]

Hello! I apologize if this is a nosy question, but what is the silly feelings wheel app you were talking about in a previous post? My therapist and I have been working on identifying feelings but I still very much rely on a list of feeling words to have any idea what I’m feeling, so it could be a helpful resource. No worries if you don’t want to share, just thought I would ask :)

It's called How We Feel! I'm not sure if it's available on all devices yet, but it's on ios and the google play store for sure.

I've been using it for about a year. It's more of a chart than a wheel but people usually recognize the wheel better so that's what I call it. When you first start it has a 10-part tutorial about emotional acceptance and regulation, then it has suggestions for each category of emotion. You can access both at any time tho after those first 10 days.

It has a share option so you can have friends, which has been great for me cause it prompts me to check on friends and them to do the same for me. It allows you to just respond with a little emoji in like a "I'm here for you" little notification to your friend, or you can reach out to your friend on your own. Its really helped me cause I'm bad at reaching out when I need support so to me and I'm bad about taking on other's problems even when I can't handle it so being able to send a little emoji instead to make sure my friends know I'm there if they need me and them doing the same has been great

[awkwardarmadildo]

to add on to the humans are space orcs/earth is the universe's australia, sensing. my therapist has recently explained that its not normal the way i know who and where someone is by their footsteps. not just the sound, but the vibrations. if someone isnt purposely walking on light feet, i can tell who and where they are, even with headphones blaring. imagine a human on a ship and the awe-filled terror itd earn from their non-human crewmates.

edit: ive realized i wasnt clear enough in my intentions. im not saying "if you can tell peoples footsteps apart, youve been ✨️ T R A U M A T I Z E D ✨️ d-(^♡^)-b ". its about the inherent panic in Not hearing the steppies and therefore Not having the time to prepare yourself for whoever might be approaching and essentially being ambushed. also, being able to tell if someone is normalTM, happy, sad, et cetera. the combined terror of not being given time to make oneself "presentable" for whoevers coming, And Also whoever has just seemingly teleported is fucking pissed, which is never good. Anyways, enjoy!!! ＼(^o^)／

Gilith enters the library, searching for Human Raven. They seem to be found most often either here or in one of the many gardens on the ship. Human Alex said he'd likely find them here today.

Gilith pokes his head through the doorway, not seeing Human Raven, but before he can move on, a voice calls out from one of the high-backed chairs decorating the library.

"Hello Lithy, what do you need?"

Gilith sputters, "Wha- Human Raven, how did you know it was me?" Gilith makes his way over to the chair that held Human Raven in a twisted knot that, when Human Raven stood up, would surely leave a horrifying crunch Human Alex had likened to a human candy that exploded in one's mouth.

"You've got some loud stompers, Lithy."

"I do not know what that means, Human Raven."

Raven stands, causing Gilith to flinch at many snaps and crackles of their bones settling into place, and smiles up at his towering form.

"What did you need?"

Gilith notices more and more Human Raven's greetings. He thought maybe they could hear him coming, but they greeted him while wearing ear speakers, the volume so loud, Gilith could hear it from a few feet away.

Humans did not have psychic skills, and the only other human who seemed capable of a preemptive greeting was Human Alex. The two seemed to share all of their off-hours, so maybe that was where he could find his answers.

Gilith scoured the many gardens, stopping just outside of the doorway. He could hear Human Alex and Human Raven chattering to each other, but neither seemed to notice his presence.

In an attempt not to disturb them, he walked with what Human Bea had described as "tip-toes". A challenging feat, considering his round flat feet, but he managed.

Both Human Raven and Human Alex had their backs to him, so he coughed in the same way Human Bea often did to get everyone's attention.

The reaction he got was unexpected when both Human Raven and Human Alex flinched so hard their shoulders seemed to lock.

"My apologies! I didn't mean to startle you," he rushed over, but stopped short when they both flinched again. He recoiled his hand.

"It's ok, Lithy," Raven says, voice slightly choked. "Just give us a sec."

"Oh. Okay." Gilith turned his eyes down.

"What-" Alex started, his voice sounding as though it was rubbed raw. He cleared his throat and tried again. "What can we do for you, Gilith?"

"I did not have anything specific to talk to you about. I wanted to..." he trails off. "I wanted to inform you of the new plants we are picking up at the next trade planet."

Gilith feels his face twist with the lie, but now didn't seem like a good time to ask.

His desire to understand, however, doesn't fade after the incident. It only makes his hunger grow.

Instead of bothering Human Alex or Human Raven, Gilith decides to ask Human Bea, who does not sense him before he greets her.

"Hello, Human Bea."

"Yes, hello, Gilith. Is everything okay?"

"I have question."

Bea tilts her head. "Ask away."

"Are you- humans- able to detect someone before you see them?"

Bea's face softens into an aching sort of frown. "Not naturally."

"What do you mean?"

She takes a breath, seemingly preparing herself. "Well, most people are able to live in a relatively safe place. But some people aren't as lucky. Some people have to memorize the falls of others' feet. It's a learned survival tactic."

"I don't understand," Gilith says, his face wrinkling in confusion.

"Some people aren't safe, so for the ones who weren't born with the good luck of a safe home, they have to know who and where someone is. They have to know if they need to hide or prepare themself. They have to know if they're in danger or not."

Gilith feels his whole body go slack as a wave of sadness washes over him at the memory of Human Raven and Human Alex's reaction to his sudden appearance.

"I have loud stompers."

Bea's face scrunches up as though she's trying not to laugh. "You do. You have safe stompers, too."

[erisweekofficial]

Tonight we're highlighting @chairofchaos!

🔥 Choas is a masterful Azris writer that has our hearts in her hands. If you're looking for something delightfully angsty or heartfelt (or both), look no further than her writing.

Although all of her work is amazing, we're currently crying over Letters of Love, which details Eris and Azriel falling in love and their relationship over time. Definitely get some tissues for this one. 😭😭And if you can't take our word for it take one of her fans:

The Letters of Love series has me spellbound in a way I can not describe. The love, the angst, the writing! I will forever cherish it. Chaos is truly a wonderful writer even if she is chaotic and I will devour this series until the end of time.

Be sure to check out their masterlist, including this Azris drabble!

Read on to learn some of Chaos's favorite Eris headcanons and which national/regional park Eris would get lost and die (or not die) in.

yes. we asked this.

Give us a name for one of Eris’ Brothers

James (so that he can use the “Um. James…” TikTok sound. A modern Eris would secretly have a TikTok. Super secret, but he would have one). Also, a relatively modern name simply because I’m tired of trying to get my word processor to recognize the validity of “Eris” and “Feyre” and even “Elain.” (No, do not add an “e”. I said, DO NOT ADD AN “E”!)

Give us a name for one of Eris’ hounds

Butter. Eris named him as a child because the hound liked to steal things off the kitchen counter, and the first thing he ever stole was a stick of butter. Eris got in a little trouble for it, so the official story is that his fur was lighter than is typical for a smokehound, and smooth like butter. The truth is that he fell in love with the little thief, and wanted to commemorate that first occurrence of thievery. It was a subtle act of rebellion on Eris’ part, and the chef was not pleased when he heard.

Give us some of your favorite Eris headcanons!

Eris is the family secret keeper. His mother tells him things. Lucien tells him things. His other brothers don’t mean to tell him things, but they drop hints and he’s smart enough to put things together. He goes unnoticed by adults as a young person, and is able to gather more information than anyone thought was possible. In doing so, he accidentally positions himself as knowledgeable on many family and court matters he probably shouldn’t even have known about in the first place. People also have a habit of just sharing things with him at random times, so he knows a considerable amount about each of the family guards, the Autumn Council, and their families. He’s a favorite with the court gossips because he will listen. He will rarely contribute, but he will always listen. As a result, everyone in court believes he is on their side. How this will play out when he is High Lord, Eris has no idea. For now, he’s happy hearing their tales of woe. Lord Cherry’s son eloped with the royal groundskeeper who taught Eris how to garden? Eris is absolutely shocked! Of course, he was the one who gave them a carriage to go to Spring, but Lord Cherry doesn’t need to know that.

Who scares Eris the most?

Eris is most scared of himself. I saw a post just the other day where a person told their therapist they were worried they would destroy everything, and their therapist told them they didn’t have that kind of power. They found it helpful because knowing you don’t have the power to change huge things in rage helped them. The difference here is that Eris has that kind of power by his proximity to societal power and his literal powers. He can destroy everything that matters to him if he is careless enough, and that terrifies him. He fears he would be powerful enough to change the world, and wishes he did not have that amount of power, because he has seen first hand how power corrupts. Outside of himself, he is most scared of Lucien. Lucien has more power than he could even imagine, and Eris isn’t sure his brother knows. At the same time, he fears the day Lucien discovers Eris knew, and that Lucien will never forgive him for keeping the knowledge to himself.

What kind of father does Eris imagine he would be, and does that differ from his actual father?

Eris imagines himself to be a brutal, unyielding, possibly even abusive father, as Beron was. He has never known a loving father, and while he believes it is theoretically possible, he looks in the mirror and sees Beron staring back at him. In every way possible, Beron has shaped Eris to be unforgiving, unyielding, brutal, and cruel. Eris worries that he will become Beron if he has children. It takes someone telling him that his worries and fear of becoming his father are what can keep him from becoming Beron. He needs a lot of support to feel confident enough that it is possible in order to become a father at all. Once he has that support, I think he does everything he can to be a better father than the one he had.

What national/regional park would Eris get lost and die (or not die) in?

Eris is dying in Petrified Forest National Park as we speak. He’s dying of heat related injuries and sun exposure. That male was not made for the desert. Fire powers cannot save you from the Arizona sun.

[itskattkm]

New York New Rules Pt. 3

Warnings: Violence, Trauma, Fluff, maybe Smut, mental health, blood

Summary: Y/N meets the survivors of the last events in Woodsborrow and gets on Ghostface's list. But there is also a darkness in Y/N wich path is she going to choose

Female Y/N x Tara Carpenter

Sorry for bad writing. I'm using a translator and hope you guys can enjoy it. Also, this is going to be a long story

Part 1, Part 2, Part 3, Part 4, Part 5

My body began to vibrate, or rather my head when I leaned it against the window of the taxi. So let's start reflecting on the day as it went so far.

Missed therapy hour because my therapist was brutally murdered. Check.

Shit... it would take me months until I find a new one.

What happened next? I closed my eyes and played the pictures in my head through like a movie.

Been accused for murder? Check.

Have been exposed and embarrassed In front of your girl crush and her sister? Check.

Surprising meeting with Kirby? Check.

Pursued by paparazzis and "interviewed" by Gale weathers? Check.

Witness to Tara punching Gale Weathers? Check.

Was I slightly turned on by it? Double Check.

"Y/N you're good?" A soft voice brought me back. I opened my eyes and had to blink slightly because of the unexpected brightness around me. I nodded silently and looked for the eyes of the taxi driver in the rear-view mirror. I put my hand on the passenger seat and pulled slightly forward, which is why Tara who sat between me and Sam pushed herself closer to Sam to give me the place I needed. "Hey you can let me out at Pompeii Pizza" he nodded to me but now Sam bent down in front "Y/N you can't go now you have to come with us" there was that shy me I knew so good. I probably would have done anything she said, but right now? Now I felt numb. Not present. And I didn't care.

No matter what happened yesterday. No matter what happened today. I just had to go home and hide in my room. It was one thing to become suspicious for several murders but to be exposed in front of almost complete strangers and to be claimed as a crazy woman with mental problems? And on top of that in front of your crush. That was too much for me.

Although Detective Bailey had exposed me to the two and they knew now more about me than I would have liked to let them know, I asked myself the question

Why do you want me to come with you?

"Why?" I asked confused

"Apart from the fact that you are a suspect, we have to talk to the others about it. Mindy wants us all to meet at the Blackmoore," she said and her eyes darkened. Although they didn't seem particularly inviting at the moment, I recognized something soothing in them.

"So you believe what Bailey said?" I asked and did not seem as strong as I had hoped. My voice was getting quieter and quieter. Maybe we didn't know each other so well, and I was just a friend of Mindy but did they really believe that I was behind it?

"Where were you during the bodega attack?" Said Tara cautions.

Confused, my gaze met hers. No, I wasn't confused. I was hurt. Her look was cold. Anger could be seen in her dark eyes, but the way she pulled her eyebrows together told me that there was something else, but what?

"Pompeii Pizza" said the driver and stopped.

Exhausted, I took a look and sighed. I shook my head when I opened the door of the taxi and got out.

"Y/N!"

I ignored it. Did Tara really think I was behind it? I didn't like the way she looked at me. As if I were a monster... the cars on the street were getting louder and louder for me. The measurements of people who were on the streets. Confused, I looked at the floor as I slowly went to the pizzeria.

And there they were at once. A few minutes before, I felt numb and now. Now there were too many feelings. I tried to arrange it in my head like a riddle. But I couldn't see anything. Too many letters. No words. I clenched my hands into fists to feel something I could describe. Then there was this sting. A continuous stitch. I had pressed my nails firmly into my palms so tightly that my knuckles turned white. Now I asked myself. What does that feel like?

After resensood.

Pressure a pressure that did not want to disappear.

And then the letters in my head came together and the word pain appeared before my eyes.

"Y/N wait!" I was grabbed by my shoulder and expected to be abruptly turned over. However, I was surprised and that of Sam. She sighed and slowly stood in front of me, so that I was forced to look at her. I was forced not to go any further.

"I was also a patient at Dr. Stone"

With widened eyes, I looked at her and a short smile escaped her lips when she agreed to my expression with a nodding head. "Believe me when I tell you that I can imagine how you feel. But you also have to understand-"

She looked over my shoulder to see Tara. However, I did not follow her gaze. As Tara had looked at me earlier... I never wanted to see these eyes again. That look in them. It made me feel so vulnerable and anxious. I already had it so hard to keep in touch with the people around me, but I tried to stand by. And with Tara, well it won't be difficult for me to ignore her in the near future.

At least that's what I thought

"After what we've been through, it's difficult for us with new people... and how fucked that sounds, but that's what Bailey said are very violent coincidences Y/N and if we should trust you... then you have to prove it to us"

Now I felt a different feeling.

Incomprehension

"Why should I do that?"

Surprised, Sam looked at me and straightened up. She probably didn't expect this answer.

"Sam, I am not part of your group. I'm just a friend of Mindy's"

I looked at the pizzeria and looked into the eyes of my own reflection Why do I looked so sad?

"As much as I wish it would be different, but even for Mindy I am just an acquaintance from the courses we have in common. And we both know Mindy, she is also very careful when it comes to new people. After she told me about Ghostface because it was a short topic in our course and not because she told me as a friend, I knew, okay. This friendship is nothing more than an an acquaintance, so why should I care Sam?" My legs were moving. I lightly bumped Sam on her shoulder to go past her but she grabbed me tightly by my arm and moved us so that I had to meet her eyes and my back faced the pizzeria.

"Because you care," she said bright. Confused, I looked at her. Her look was gentler than before and there was this glow.

"You may feel alone. And maybe you are... but you care. No matter how bad you are feeling. How the people around you are doing... you are someone who can feel how others are doing. And as much as you sometimes have to struggle with the darkness... you still care. Even if it hurts"

Why did it feel like a description of herself?

Were we both more similar than knew? I mean, we both went to the same therapist, maybe there was something to it. But what was Sam's problem? Also aggression? Mindy had never told me in detail what happened to all of them back then. She just said that the stab movies are based on true events and the murders of last year? Well she and her friends were involved.

Of course, I had watched all the stab films afterwards, but I couldn't imagine what must have happened to them.

"Go home. Take your time. But I hope that you come to the Blackmoore and try to find an answer for all this, together with us. You don't want to be a suspect, do you? So why not find out who is really behind it?"

She gave me a slight smile and left. Even after the taxi drove away, I was still starring on the same spot. Where did I get in there?

Damn Samantha Carpenter...

These feelings which you and your sister leave me behind are too much for me.

[napakmahal]

“ Did all this happen because I left?”

Pause girlies because this is actually kinda serious. I just got out of a depressive episode and just really wanted to give the depression girlies a lil treat. Remember: you need other people in your life when you have depression. Make friends not resources. I love y’all (angst)

How can something be so painful yet so numb at the same time? The human brain is one of the most complex systems in the universe, aside from the universe itself. How it can feel so many polar opposite things simoultaniouly, and in that creating an entire civil war within itself. How could the brain, the thing meant to be in charge with your care and wellbeing one day just decide to decrease its own activity and make you miserable? It was the worlds greatest betrayal.

You’d been lying in your bed for the past week, and you might have gotten up twice a day. Once to use the bathroom and the other to get some food and bring it right back to your bed. Everyone said it wasn’t a big deal because you were young and you were probably just in a bad mood because of your hormones. Hormones were evil enough to suction blood from your reproductive organs (usually) once a month, they couldn’t possibly be cruel enough for this.

On your overheated and whirling computer was an endless loop of lousy reality T.V shows you’d watched over and over. There’s been therapists that have said that in these times of depressive episodes, you should revert back to adding some life and movement back into your brain. Which meant doing things like crossword puzzles, working out, math games, and reading 200+ page books. All things that you could totally do and things you liked to do. But not right now. Now all you wanted was junk food and shitty TLC shows. Not some slow burn, or some huge mystery TV show that required you to remember tiny details from the beginning of the season. Reality TV was entertaining, effortless, and on loop but you’d be lying if you said everytime you heard the freaky eaters intro a little more of your brain died.

That’s the funny thing about depression. Because even though you can feel yourself slipping and drowning in total misery, there’s nothing anyone can do to save you. So you get stuck in this endless loop of self detructive behavior hoping that the pain you experience on the outside is enough to kill the thing on the inside.

You were clinically depressed, and nothing nobody did was ever going to change that. But these episodes weren’t always like this. For a while, episodes were bearable. Your ‘friend’ made them better.

You’d known Hiro for a while, meeting him on the downtown bus during sunset on a spring saturday. You thought he was cool, he thought you were pretty. But the whole girlfriend-boyfriend thing seemed uncomfortable and the labels meade things weird.

Granted you were each others first kiss. The two of you had tried to convince each other it was just because you got asked out to your eighth grade formal and you wanted to be prepared. It also didn’t help much that the more you described the dude that asked you out, the more Hiro wished he hadn’t skipped all those grades.

You never told anyone about that. Sure you could say it was a one time thing but it was hard to use that as a defense when you’d made out with him because you were bored under the dock near the beach during the summer carnival, and when you were just playing video games in his room, and when you were sitting on the steps of the museum of Japanese artifacts while sharing a soda, and the time you two were at the skatepark after it closed and you two were making out- only except that time he’d taken off his jacket.

Sure you were both fifteen but you watched people make out in the hallways at school everyday. Kissing didn’t seem like this massive thing. Hiro grew up isolated from the true highschool experience, he didn’t know. All he knew was that making out with you was cool and pretending he only did it because he was bored (and not because he would swear on his teen hormones that he loved you) was even cooler.

His aunt and brother had liked to tease you for it, but that’s all it was: teasing. The two of you would never live down the torment you’d likey face if they found out about your “I’m bored, let’s make out” sessions.

Speaking of, your mom didn’t really know you and Hiro were like that. She was only partly sure you liked him and you only thought that because one day after she caught you being particularly smiley that night after having him over to stream a new song she came into your room, played with your hair and said: “So you and Hiro are friends? That’s nice, he’s seems nice. Just, make sure he doesn’t make it worse.”

That was also kind of a silly depression thing: People and their influence could make it worse for you, others, and even themselves. Bad influence already makes bad people, but bad influence on people with depression tends to make them miserable, desperate, and self loathing.

But contrary to what your mom had said, Hiro didn’t make it worse. He made it better and she would soon figure that out after you’d tried texting him multiple times despite knowing he was at an expo outside the city. And he’d respond as fast as he could with the best messages, but when he’d go dead silent for almost ten hours each day it just dampened your mood. You’d kept reminding yourself not to be selfish, that your lack of ability to be happy shouldn’t stop people from living their lives. But from the hours of 7 a.m. - 5 p.m. you were left with no friend and a fat headache.

——————————————————————————

The intro to a show you couldn’t remember the name of played for the tenth time that day, drying out your eyes and causing an endless headache. You were surprised you hadn’t at least gotten a stomach ache from all the Tylenol you’d been taking. Someone knocked at your closed bedroom door before gently opening it.

“Y/n,” Your mom squinted through the darkness of your closed blinds and at the glowing computer screen. “There’s someone here to see you.”

With your back faced to her you couldn’t say anything other than a low, “Oh.”

She left for a bit as you continued to lay there, helpless almost dead. Thinking about death is something everyone does up to a certain extent. Questions like: How will I die? What comes next? Are ghosts real? All normal.

But when you and people like you thought about death it wasn’t like when other people thought about death.

Suddenly, your door creaked open and you didn’t even have the energy to look back but you just knew. Hiro had looked around at your depression room and sighed. He hadn’t even been around you for more than thirty seconds and he already wanted to cry. This was bad- so bad. The boy gently crept up to your bed and sat down. You felt the dent of his body in your mattress and still didn’t move.

“How are you?” His voice was quiet.

You responded barely above a whisper, “Fine.”

“When’s the last time you left this room?”

You didn’t even reply. At that moment, breathing was too much work. Having to think about the air going through your lungs and exhaling it out was a chore.

Hiro leaned over your body and shut the laptop closed before moving it off your head and placing his body in it’s spot. You two were now face to face, laying on your bed like the lovers of valdaro. It was bad this time and everyone knew it. Guilt had been eating him alive since he read the shift in your texts. How could he enjoy himself at this expo while you were there suffering?

“Did all of this happen because I wasn’t here?” He whispered.

You grabbed onto his hand. “No. I’ve always been like this.”

“Do you promise?”

“I swear it.”

“But it’s never been this bad before. If I was here then-”

“You couldn’t have done anything.” You cut him off. “Hiro I’ve been like this all my life. And you shouldn’t feel obligated to hold yourself back because I’m not normal.”

Once while playing around at the park at midnight you told Hiro that a therapist you had said these episodes will wax and wane. In the good there will be bad and in the bad there will be good. But there would never be moment where it would just be good. You’d be this way for the rest of your life, sad, in pain, and left with a feeling of mania and worthlessness. And there was nothing he could do about it.

“Do-” Hiro’s voice started to shake and a tear from my eye scurred across his face. “Do I at least make it any better?’

The thought of making it better by being there would in turn make him feel a little less guilty about not being able to be with you all the time.

For the first time in a week, you gave him a weak smile. No teeth, just lips. Before you leaned forward and gave him a prolonged kiss. In return, he brushed your hair from your face and started petting your head.

“Yes,” You whispered. “You do.”

[the-firefly-jar-system]

i'm really upset about the transandrophobia discourse right now. i am not a transmisogynist for acknowledging that i also face oppression, and i'm not playing as a victim for wanting a word to describe my oppression. i apologize in advance if this is rambly or hard to understand

i am a transmasc nonbinary teenager, as well as autistic. i am *easily* spotted as queer because of how i express myself as transmasc. i am especially a target because of the ear defenders i wear to help with my sensory issues.

i have been threatened, harassed, called slurs, misgendered on purpose, physically and verbally attacked, fetishized, and more. this has all happened before and after i stopped trying to 'pass' as a cis guy and also started accommodating my autism. i absolutely do not benefit from male privilege in any way, nor am i accepted as a 'real' male by my peers. almost every cis boy at my school wants nothing to do with me, and only after years of being in school with me they are able to talk to me like a person. i have been asked by parents and teachers if i actually want to use they/them instead of my preferred he/him or he/they because of how i present (this comes from a place of support, but only makes me feel dysphoric). i was taken off of puberty blockers because therapists didn't want to approve hrt for me, despite my diagnosis of gender dysphoria, as i have non-normative transition goals. i can't go into any gendered bathrooms because people know i'm not a woman (and i feel highly dysphoric in the woman's bathroom), and i feel incredibly unsafe and singled out in the men's bathroom. i'm not seen as a boy, just a nonbinary person (which i am, but not only) or a confused girl who wants to be special.

by the way, i live in a very progressive place. i have it good compared to a lot of other transmascs.

this is absolutely a widespread issue, and by ignoring or denying it you are making it so much easier for people to target us without repercussions. i understand that people want to move past this discourse, but we cannot move on and advocate for each other as a community if the oppression against all kinds of trans people isn't acknowledged properly as an issue. please see us: the oppression we face does not undermine your own oppression

[nozunhinged]

Things I loved about Wandee goodday ep 5 in no particular order

- sulky coffee yak

- the talk with Kao about the sleepless sleepwear. They don't have any shame or reluctance about how that experience made them feel, they talk openly and maturely about it I loved EVERY SECOND OF IT!!! THIS IS THE KINK TALK WE NEED!! I'm also 100000% convinced this is thanks to kaos amazing presence, dude was born to be a therapist

- sniff kisses

- yak helping Dee with his work no questions asked

- Taem and Dee actually bonding and being sweet to each other instead of Dee hating her guts irrationally (also Taem pretty)

- yak openly acknowledging how he already got used to cuddles and demanding them. Cuddles are indeed addicting

- Dee snuggling into him and putting his hand on yaks arm and yak subtly reacting to it, chefs kiss 😙👌

- idol grandma

- cher on yeis lap. It's like he was made to take his seat there it's amazing how perfectly they made that work

- chers little jealousy trip, it didn't feel bitchy or over the top you could feel he's just genuinely insecure and irrationally scared of losing yei

- yaks dorky smile, every single one

- the way you can slowly veeeery slowly witness Dee's reluctance for kissing yak crumble away, its amazing how the tension gets more intense and that it's actually Dee now who seems desperate to taste his boxer guy

- the whole banana conversation

- peepee pillow

- THE TOOTHBRUSHES

Gosh I love them so much. I love their domesticity and honesty and openness and genuine comfort with each other this is so rare and I don't even care what label they give themselves because what counts is how they enjoy being with each other and they will overcome those big fat obstacles waiting for them because they are already a team and I cannot describe how warm that makes me feel there will be some pain along the way but I just KNOW they will get through it TOGETHER UGH

[jaozendry]

"Loving you is hard sometimes": PART 2

Pairing: Damian Wayne x Bat Family!Reader

Reader: Gender Neutral, has been part of the Bat Family for a while.

TAGS: @aesthxticneko

PART 1

Type: Mild-angst

Warnings: swearing, blood, wounds

OTHER CHARACTERS: Dick Grayson

Summary: The both of you have been avoiding each other for a few weeks now. One day, Damian confronts you and challenges you to a "friendly" one-on-one. Due to his anger issues, Damian accidentally harms you badly. After recovery, Dick decides to make the both of you attend therapy.

______________________________________________________________

"So, who would like to start?" a blonde woman asks after taking a pen and opening her notebook. Damian sits across from you, crossing his arms. An awkward silence occurs for a few seconds. "Why do you think you're here?" she asks again. Damian turns to you, waiting for a response. "Well, I guess I'll start." you sigh, attempting to break the ice. "Well, I think we're here because of some issues the two of us have been having... with each other." you explain awkwardly while Damian stares at you weirdly. "Would you like to describe what those issues are?" the therapist asks, turning her attention towards your friend. He remains silent. "This is a safe place, Damian. We are here to help you resolve your problems." the woman explains. You look at your friend, crossing your arms as well. He looks back at you and rolls his eyes. "This is a waste of time." he grumbles. The woman sighs and goes through her notes.

"Well, Mr. Grayson filled me in a little about what happened during the last few weeks." she adds. "The two of you have stopped talking after a mission and after training, Y/N was found on the floor, bleeding, with a wound to the stomach." Damian immediately looks at the ground. "Would any one of you fill me in on what happened on the mission first?" Damian patiently waits for your answer once again. "I tried helping him out during the mission and he just wouldn't accept it, I guess. He says he doesn't need help with anything when he clearly does. I mean, he almost died on that mission before I intervened." The lady nods her head while listening to you and taking notes. "And, in the Batfamily, we do everything to help him out and he pretends like nothing ever happened. I guess I just had enough of his bullshit."

The therapist finishes writing her notes. "I see." she says. "How does that negligence affect you?" she asks you. "I guess it hurts me because he just doesn't notice the efforts I do for him, or anyone's, really." Damian finally speaks up: "Shut up! I do notice your efforts. They're just... unnecessary." he declares while looking at the floor. "I don't need any help. At all. Just accept it." You turn to him in disbelief. "Can you just accept that you do need help?!" you finally snap. "I've been pouring my heart out for you all these years and all I get in return is shit! You may be the grandson of Ra's al Ghul or even the son of Batman, but you're not invincible! Batman needs help, Ra's al Ghul needs help, everyone needs help! You just accept it!"

Damian rolls his eyes. "God, you're insufferable." he grumbles. You turn back to the therapist, fuming. She has a shocked expression on her face. "Well... I think it's better for all of us if we just end it here for today."

______________________________________________________________

"So, how'd it go?" Dick asks you while driving. "Terrible." you reply. "He can be a real pain in the ass sometimes." Dick laughs. "Yeah, true." he chuckles. You look at the window. "Does it still hurt?" Dick asks. "What? The wound or my feelings?" you ask him, still looking at the window. "The wound." he replies. "And also, can I ask what even happened in there? A nasty wound like that doesn't just grow overnight." You sigh. "Well, he wanted to spar after a few weeks of not talking. I went easy on him, but I guess he didn't. I don't know, kid has a lot of unresolved anger issues." You turn to Dick, tears in your eyes. "I can't take it anymore, Dick." You lean on your arm. "Am I doing something wrong?" Dick turns to you. "No, you aren't. Damian's just a little asshole sometimes." You wipe away your tears.

"God, why am I still in love with him?"

[nohoperadio]

Hey there, have you ever experienced that slightly eerie scenario in which someone shares thoughts strangely similar to yours? Every time this occurs in my life, I'm always instilled with a curious mixture of senses, including pride and fear, perhaps a dash of competitiveness. I oftentimes feel this way upon reading your posts, many of which I find highly entertaining (I disagree with the #uninteresting tag you frequently employ), and it puts me in some kind of awe of you. I understand that this is an extremely bizarre message to receive, but after much deliberation I decided that you needed to be informed. Thank you for the relatability, I suppose, and keep at it. -P.R.

Hey there, have you ever experienced that slightly eerie scenario in which someone shares thoughts strangely similar to yours?

Outside of books and the like I can only think of one person who’s given me this feeling strongly enough that I might call it “eerie”, although it’s probably relevant that I was still young enough at the time to assume I thought and felt more deeply than most other people such that encountering someone who was articulate and self-aware and willing to let me into their thoughts was a more humbling and thrilling and surprising experience than it could be in later life. (I hope it doesn’t sound like I’m accusing you of having this youthful attitude I’m describing, you’ve given me no reason to think that.) I think it’s also the case that “similar to me” is something I value a lot less in people than I used to, which is not to say it counts for nothing of course. In recent years I’ve encountered some people who are similar enough to me that we can successfully understand each other, which is still rare enough to feel a bit special.

On the other hand I lead an exceptionally lonely life by most people’s standards, maybe I’d have this experience more if there were more people I got close to enough to get a strong sense for how they think (there may be a chicken and egg question here though). I realize I’m straying quite far from the point of your ask here sorry

Every time this occurs in my life, I'm always instilled with a curious mixture of senses, including pride and fear, perhaps a dash of competitiveness.

That’s an interesting mixture! Especially the last one, if you want to be posting rivals with me I’d be down for that let’s do it. I’m curious what the “fear” part entails if you’re able and inclined to elaborate.

(I disagree with the #uninteresting tag you frequently employ)

Thank you, but I can’t accept any badmouthing of the #uninteresting tag, it’s the most useful tool I’ve ever owned. One of the big problems with making posts is that it can feel like you’re making an implicit claim that your words will be interesting to other people, which introduces a lot of unhelpful self-consciousness into the process. When I first realized how effectively I could undercut that feeling just by putting this stupid tag on everything I was delighted, and I’m still grateful to the tag for all it does for me. Some therapists will tell you that being self-deprecating is bad for your mental health and they may have a point, but I say it’s freeing sometimes and I’ve got a point too.

I understand that this is an extremely bizarre message to receive, but after much deliberation I decided that you needed to be informed. Thank you for the relatability, I suppose, and keep at it.

Not at all it’s a lovely message, and at the risk of sounding pushy you seem entirely too interesting and pleasant to be on anon, why not show yourself so we can be mutuals… back when I sent people anons it was because I didn’t really make any posts at the time and I didn’t want the people I was messaging to look at my boring-ass blog, if it’s something like that for you then please know that no one cares about that it’s fine, it’s just nice to be able to keep track of people who are saying a thing. However if you don’t wanna that’s cool, I appreciate the kind words very much, have a swell rest of your day and general future please

[battleczar]

First Contact

A nonfiction essay on death and touch

I didn’t expect to cry the first time I held a woman’s heart in my hands. The heart was a large cool weight, colored like pearlescent Georgia clay. It belonged to a woman who had died of a stroke at the age of 76, and who now lay before me in the basement cadaver lab of ——— University, faceless and open on the steel table. My classmates drew close around me, letting me cry, holding me with their presence, for the two minutes I took before I passed the heart to my left.

Massage therapy school is intense. For me, it was night classes fifteen hours a week, learning legal codes, debating ethical practices, categorizing the parts of the body from the mitochondria to the corpus callosum, and of course, learning touch. Always touch. For me, that was the most difficult part. Massage therapists learn a kind of touch that is just as psychological as it is physical, as we learn to think with our fingertips and emote with our palms. It is delicate and draining work, and at first I struggled to turn off my mind. I didn’t like to be touched so much by classmates that I barely knew. But I focused hard on learning our first skill: the “hello”. The “hello” is the first contact a massage therapist makes during a massage, and it is essential that it be full of calm and mindful intent. It lasts a breath before moving on, both a brief promise of trust and an expression of gratitude. It cannot be spoken, only felt.

It only took three months or so before I began to feel comfortable with the demands of my classes. As I settled more fully into the learning environment, my teachers began to teach without words. If I was palpating a classmate’s back, a teacher would walk over to me, observe my hands for a moment, and then place their own hands over mine. Without any questions being asked or answered, I would understand what they were telling me. It felt like experiencing the ah-ha! of fluency in a new language. Through wordless touch, my teachers corrected mistakes and fixed problems that I’m sure couldn’t have been adequately described out loud.

The cadaver lab was not a required course. I first had the chance to take it in my second quarter of school, but declined to register; I was frightened of how I might react to seeing dead bodies for the first time. I wanted to be a death doula, and I was worried that I would prove myself a squeamish coward, unfit to work with the dying. If I discovered weakness in this area, how could I continue with any of my training? But the next opportunity was my final chance to take the class, and so in June of 2019 I took a crack-of-dawn bus to ——— University, buzzing with coffee and fear. My anatomy teacher from massage therapy school was also a professor at———; she and my eighteen other classmates congregated in the dining hall at 8:50am. She answered our questions, we filled out safety waivers and consent forms, and each minute that I came closer to entering the lab, I felt more and more like I was dreaming. When I finally pulled on my lab coat and gloves and stepped foot into the cadaver lab, I was a hollow drum. A classmate came over to me and took my arm, and I felt her trembling energy: I wasn’t alone.

My first “hello” was not chosen so much for symbolic importance as it was that the human shin is a non-threatening place to touch. This was the shin of a formerly 58-year-old man, and it was cold and firm. I kept my fingertips there for a few seconds, determined not to flinch away. It surprised me to realize that I had no desire to flinch at all. There was no hostility in this body, nor anything inhuman. Together with my classmates, as our teacher lifted the pre-dissected quadriceps away from the femur, we silently said our “hello” to the man on the table, who had willed his body to teach us long after his words were gone.

Lunch break was very strange. We left the building stinking of formalin and methanol, the side door outside the lab emerging directly into the sprawling sunlit gardens of ———. I felt like I was moving underwater, reeling with revelation. Human bodies were beautiful. Nerves looked like mother-of-pearl fettuccine; the liver was enormous; metastasized cancer spread like bread mold; the spine was a cascading Jacob’s Ladder. I had spent so much time reading textbooks and studying diagrams, but none of that was real. To truly learn, I had to touch. Touch had opened a fourth dimension of comprehension. I sat on a bench beneath a willow tree and leaned my head on a classmate’s shoulder; another classmate came and sat on the grass, back against my legs. We passed our wonder to each other, and watched the willow leaves dance.

When we returned to the cadaver lab for the afternoon, we were all calmer, a little more eager to reach out to the cadavers. With our gloved hands full, we stood shoulder-to-shoulder, nudging questions and pressing answers. Momentarily distracted from examining her carpal tunnel, I held a former grandmother’s hand, and somebody handed me her heart, and suddenly the weight of my gratitude broke. I didn’t need to explain why I was crying to my classmates. They felt it too, and we all moved a little closer for it.

[thatonebirdwrites]

I have not been feeling well, so Quark is keeping an eye on me. When I don't feel well, I write to distract myself. So for the past few days, I've been typing up this explanation about the assessment for DID and other dissociative disorders. I'm not going to go through myths to debunk them, but instead I am going to explore the diagnosis itself and what it's like.

Multidimensional Inventory of Dissociation v.6.0

Developed by Paul F. Dell in 2004, this assessment has undergone extensive updates, mostly to add more questions and/or refine the language of prior questions. Studies were then conducted with the assessment, and all the questions come from a commonality within reports by patients and studies done with those with dissociative disorders.

So if a symptom appears on the MID, that means it's very common to most people who have dissociative disorders.

What are some of the questions then?

I had to take this as a self-test since I use tele-health, but Dr. Paul F. Dell's website has instructions for people like me that my therapist gave me. This is a 218 question assessment, and I had to do it in steps.

Some questions I don't recall answering, though I (or alter) left a little note about the answer. A few question marks on those I didn't understand, and explanations on why I (or alter) answered.

Things I noticed that kept coming up in the questions was:

Hearing/seeing a child in one's head, or "Things around you seeming to change size or shape." or "Suddenly feeling very small, like a young child."

The variations on this question dealt with different aspects of how a child alter or part may appear to the patient. It describes the shrinking down to a child, where one question focuses on the sensation of changing size or shape (like I quoted above) or the shrinking down to a child sensation. The child part speaking in one's head also came up in various questions with a slight difference in how one may experience it for each question.

Why does this come up so often in the MID assessment?

Because most DID systems have child alters. Studies have shown this as well as self-reported from those of us who have DID or OSDD and/or variations of dissociative disorders. (There's a whole family of them!)

Changes in handwriting or "Finding things that you must have written (or drawn), but with no memory of having done so."

This popped up several times in the assessment. When I asked my therapist how prevalent this was, he told me that studies and self-reports from patients have documented this so often it was included in the assessment.

In fact, it's often how people realize they might have a part within them they don't know. The changes in handwriting, the things written or drawn which we have no memory of doing -- all of these are so common that it's considered a crucial symptom.

"Feeling that another part or entity inside you tries to stop you from doing or saying something." (There's a ton of variations on this question.)

"Words come out of your mouth, but you didn’t say them — you don’t know where those words came from." (Quite a few variations of this that dig deeper.)

These variations of questions took up a large portion of the assessment, and dug into various ways these sensations or experiences could manifest.

A few of the variations was detailed about behaviors or words that are self-harm, which I had to take a break from the assessment when I encountered those questions.

There are several common types of alters: Protective, Mediator, Persecutor, Child/Little, Gatekeeper, and host/core. There's other roles that may appear depending on the situation. Alters/parts may have multiple roles or only one role, and some may be simply fragments that hold just one or two memories.

Fragments either fade away once their role is no longer needed, or they merge with another personality, or they can solidify into a full personality (depending on the situation/experiences of that system).

"'Coming to’ and finding that you have done something you don’t remember doing (for example, smashed something, cut yourself, cleaned the whole house, etc.)."

Not remembering where items are or being surprised by where items end up (the whole not remembering moving things sort of deal).

A good portion of questions covered variations to the above two items. It's a very common symptom to 'come to' in the middle of something you don't remember doing. It can be really disorienting and upsetting when this happens.

Or finding yourself in a place where you don't recall how you got there. Or losing items only to find them in places you'd never think to put them.

To be honest, I find these questions a little too on the nose. When these would happen to me, I felt like I was losing my mind. I'd often break down into a crying panic when I couldn't find something because I honestly couldn't remember where it'd be. And it'd either show up in the weirdest spot or be in an obvious spot but my panic-strewn brain failed to see because the obvious spot wasn't the item's home.

Hearing a voice in your head that is mean, or is soothing, or is several voices arguing, or is several voices crying.

A lot of questions have variations about the above, but they splint them up to focus on each tidbit. So a question about hearing a voice that calls you names. Or hearing a voice that is soothing and kind. Or hearing a voice that suggests self-harm. Or hearing a montage of voices arguing.

The question about several voices crying really hit me hard since I feel that a lot.

Trance-like episodes (like a dozen questions that dig deeper into what the trance-like episode feels like)

"Suddenly realizing that hours have gone by and not knowing what you were doing during that time." Or having no memory of the prior hours/day(s). (Over a dozen variations on this one).

The trance-like symptoms are where dissociative disorders are often confused with ADHD. Whether someone with any dissociative disorders has ADHD can sometimes be difficult to parse, partly due to the overlap.

With ADHD the issue is related to how the brain function and processes neurotransmitters (such as dopamine), and thus it's just how that person's brain is. Sure, some medicines can aid with alleviating symptoms, especially the struggle to concentrate.

However, with many dissociative disorders, the issue is related to trauma. The trauma impacted how the brain developed and causes the symptoms. Can this be healed over time? Yes, in a way, but it requires a lot of work and training new neuropathways. Medicines may not always aid these symptoms since the problem isn't necessarily related to sending and processing neurotransmitters.

(Now there are some DID systems that are not traumagenic -- as the term is for systems formed due to trauma, which are valid in their own right. I can't speak to those as I don't know enough.)

Not remembering details about yourself, where you live, your address, etc... (over a dozen questions that are variations of this one that dig into memory and/or memory loss)

"Feeling that important things happened to you earlier in your life, but you cannot remember them." Or "Not remembering large segments of your childhood."

The lack of memory, struggle to remember, and other memory symptoms are incredibly common to those with dissociative disorders. This is because the brain had to cope with a very stressful situation, and so encoding memory in those moments is severely hampered.

Sometimes another part/alter may hold the information or memories that are missing. Or the brain just couldn't encode them at all, so it's like a gap.

A lot of my childhood is like that. Gaps that I don't really remember, but siblings tell me about, so any memories I do recall is definitely due to their tales and not really due to me remembering it myself. However, in therapy, we're learning that other parts do hold different details that my siblings never shared.

"Having traumatic flashbacks that make you want to inflict pain on yourself." or re-experiencing pain from a traumatic event (large segment of questions relate to this)

PTSD and C-PTSD are often comorbid with dissociative disorders.

So a lot of questions also will replicate some of the questions one finds on assessments for PTSD/C-PTSD.

"Feeling as if you are two different people — one who is going through the motions of daily life and the other who is just watching." Or feeling as if one has multiple personalities.

"Switching back and forth between feeling like an adult and feeling like a child." (There's a lot of variations on this question too)

A large portion of questions pertain to this topic. Some are hyper specific like "Feeling the presence of an old man inside you who wants to read his newspaper or go to the bathroom." And some are more vague like the "feeling you have multiple personalities).

The hyper specific ones are due to how often that specific manifestation was reported. Thus it got folded into the assessment. It threw me quite a bit for a few hyper specific ones.

There's also questions pertaining to switching back and forth from feeling male or female or another gender. Which considering alters/parts can be of different genders and sexualities makes sense.

This portion of the assessment is critical since it's the bulk of dissociative disorders. When the person is stuck in a traumatic situation, particularly ongoing ones, the brain will do what it can to cope and survive. That includes splintering the mind into different parts, which is one way dissociative disorders manifest.

It can be pretty scary at first when these other parts are identified. Often the first clues is handwriting, journal or drawing entries, or being told by friends and family that one acted oddly.

There's even questions in the assessment pertaining to family or friends not being recognized or couldn't remember who they were. Again, this is pretty common concerning an alter/part didn't ever interact or doesn't know the family member or friend. Not all memories are shared between parts.

There's terms used within the DID/OSDD community for how much memories are shared between personalities/parts/alters.

Blurian/Blending/Blurry, for example, describes how memory-sharing comes easily, there's fewer amnesiac events, and its easy to communicate with other parts. Where the other parts can blur together and with the core self. Sometimes the blurring of parts while fronting is called Soup or Frontal Soup by the plurality community.

Partitionary is used to describe systems that have strong amnesiac barriers, where memory sharing and internal communication is difficult. Divisions between alters/parts are solidily defined as well.

Switching is a term describing when one part/alter goes "back" and another takes the "front." In this, the "Front" means actively in control of the body. Sometimes the switch can seem unnerving, as in the part/alter differs enough from the core self (or prior alter/fronter) that others notice.

But other times switching can be covert, where no one notices that the switch happened. It's only when the situation is brought up later that one may find that the core self (or currently fronting alter/part) has no memory of a portion (or all) of the event/situation. But the body was still interacting, so a part was present. Since no one outside the system noticed the switch, that's why it's deemed covert.

Since the system developed due to trauma in the first place, staying covert or hiding the system is often backed into the alters/parts as a safety issue. So trying to hide the system -- even from the core self! -- is another common part of the dissociative disorders experience.

"Not being sure about what is real (and what is unreal) in your surroundings." Or feeling as if you aren't real (and variations of that unreal sensations)

Derealization and/or depersonalization is very common. These two terms differ slightly in what the describe.

For Depersonalization, it's a sensation of feeling like one's watching the body from the outside, where the sense of what is real around them feels distorted or unreal.

For derealization, it's feelings of fogginess, detached from oneself and surroundings, where the world feels dreamlike.

The two terms definitely overlap, but one is specific to feeling outside of oneself. The other focuses on the similar feelings while within oneself.

"Hurting yourself so that someone would care or pay attention." or talking about one's psychological illnesses for attention (There's quite a few variations on this question, which seems to be oriented in the whole feeling isolated and seeking out connection but unsure how.)

"Not being able to hear for a while (as if you are deaf) (for no known medical reason)." Or not being able to see for awhile, or having seizures for no known medical reason...

Since a lot of dissociative disorders fall under the radar, and thus doctors and psychologists/psychiatrists fail to identify them, the feeling lost or unheard or desperate to be acknowledged/seen is really common.

Related is how the senses can feel like they got shut off, but there's no know medical reason for it. Like if one's vision goes dark and they can't see, but medically they are fine and they do not have blindness. It's a surreal sensation because the other senses may work but one just doesn't for a little while. It's thought that this may be related to the act of switching itself, but it depends on the individual.

Other issues, like having seizures for no discernible medical reason, may only happen due to specific triggers or when a specific alter/part is fronting. So it seems like the symptom is psych-somantic, when in reality the health issue is very real. It's just manifesting in a different way than those who do not have dissociative disorders. It almost seems like our body and brain is disconnected, or full of out-of-order signs. Considering how common it is for folks to report this symptoms, it makes me wonder if further health issues are being dismissed.

I read a study recently -- if I find the link I'll edit in or drop in comments -- where MRIs could detect differences in how areas of the brain lit up when a particular alter/part was active.

"Not being able to keep friends." or "Being rejected by others" or "Nobody understands how much you hurt." (a ton of variations on this question)

Sadly, there's a lot of questions concerning this on the assessment. I suspect part of this is due to the stigmas associated with these disorders.

Society and especially the film industry love to use multiple personalities as a trait for their villains.

Yet, studies and patient reports show it is far more likely for someone with any dissociative disorder to be a victim/survivor. The whole reason the disorder formed is due to trauma that is happening to us. That trauma was conducted by another person to harm us, and the brain coped by fragmenting.

Due to the massive amounts of misinformation on this, people will and often do makes assumptions that aren't based in actual evidence.

For example, I lost a few friends because they learned of my mental illnesses, and then proceeded to ignore how I actually interact with them to assert that because of my illness I am unsafe and untrustworthy. They'll then sprout misinformation derived from shitty representation in movies, but when I combat that with facts, it often ends with me hurt and one less friend.

Sometimes people may drop me as a friend because they don't know how to handle it. When truthfully the best thing anyone an do for another person struggling with their health (for any reason) is to ask the person what they need and the best way to approach assisting them in that need. They may either not realize they can just ask me or may see the asking and accommodating me as "too much."

So it can be incredibly isolating, which then feeds into the whole wanting to be seen and acknowledged by someone.

Now I didn't cover all the categories on the assessment, but the above were major ones that had very detailed questions to dig deep into those aspects of dissociative disorders.

The assessment itself is 218 questions, and so takes a long time to do. Then there's the whole going over it with the therapy/psychologist such as the scoring after test is taken and/or answering questions about some of the entries. (I had a lot of questions to be honest, and it took several therapy sessions to go through them al.)

The scoring of the assessment helps identify which dissociative disorder it is (or if they are unlikely to have one).

For Dissociative Identity Disorder in particular, the DSM-5 lists the following parameters that must be met for the diagnosis:

Image is from DID Research website.

Switching between two or more alters.

Recurrent amnesia between alters. (Significant gaps and is not consistent with ordinary forgetting).

Symptoms cause distress or dysfunction.

Symptoms are not due to culture, religion, or fantasy.

Symptoms are not due to substance abuse or another condition.

What is it like

Honestly, I feel foggy a lot, and that sense of being watched or hearing conversations in my head. How one experiences a switch between parts/alters differs from person to person, but there are a few symptoms that are very common. Common enough to be included in assessments:

Feeling foggy

Nausea or stomach upset

feeling unreal or watching from outside

Dizziness

sense of shrinking in size

headaches

Joint pain

hearing "voices" (that turn out to be other parts/alters)

memory issues

identity confusion

Dissociative fugue (as in ending up in a different location with no memory of how one got there).

trance-like states (or dissociative states as it can also be called)

intrusive thoughts (they may pop into my head and quickly vanish, or thoughts I had will disappear as if someone stole my thought bubble).

Changing memories, skills, preferences that make one seem inconsistent (but is in reality alters and core self differing on what they know/like/dislike).

Flashbacks -- whether visual (as in trauma plays out with all senses) or emotional (where only the emotions from the trauma appear).

These symptoms can hit in ways that seem random at first, but through therapy and gentle care with oneself, the triggers that cause these symptoms can be found and dealt with.

Having it can make it difficult to work, study, housekeep, and so forth. We may find ways to cope and mask oneself enough to survive in a workplace or educational system, but sometimes symptoms are so debilitating that we can't function and sort of shut down. This is why accommodations can be crucial for helping us find a healthy way to exist and do the things we like or need to do.

Switching also tends to include the above symptoms, but not always. As for what triggers a switch? That depends on the individual.

Living with it means finding ways to cope with the symptoms and still function enough to survive. How this looks depends on the person. For me, I deal with the above plus a physical illnesses that limits what I am capable of doing physically, but I can cope and find ways to accommodate my needs. Or try to since I often need outside help for some activities/tasks.

Finding healthy ways to cope and accommodate the needs of myself and my parts is crucial for the healing journey. It's not easy, and it often means refiling traumatic memories in a safe way and creating protocols or boundaries for interaction and switching between parts.

All this to say: People with Dissociative Disorders are just people who happen to have other people living in the same body as them.

Part of the healing journey is learning how to care for, listen to, and acknowledge the needs of each of our parts/alters. To establish boundaries and to work toward either integration (all parts fusing back to the core self) or cooperation (increasing internal communication and working together while decreasing amnesic events and debilitating symptoms).

And that acting with kindness and keeping one's mind open is crucial for anyone who wishes to support someone through this.

I explore a lot of the above in my fanfic Shattered. I'm using allegories to show what it's like, and how people can support those of us with it.

Anyway, this has taken me days to write, and I'm tired now.

Thanks for reading.

Be safe. Be kind. And remember that you are all valid, and your stories deserve to be heard and acknowledged.

[uwukillmenowowo]

Oh what if you make the Yandere Enki X Therapist reader into a multi part series and it includes reader seeing him murking that inmate and her still working for Nanbaka afterwards and then leading up to Enki getting freed

Y'know what..?

SURE!

WHY NOT MAKE A SERIES?!?

Keeping Me Sane Pt.2

(Yandere Enki Gokuu X Therapist! Female! Reader!)

Chapter 1

Notes:

You were a recently appointed therapist.

Since you had to look over some inmates and guards one on one you got to learn how to use Qigong from the best of the best. Building 5.

You got along with one guard in particular, Samon

He taught you more about close combat and how to block out Qi channeling.

That way if an inmate gets to aggressive, you can paralyze them.

Basically you're like Ty Lee from ATLA.

Somethings wrong... You can feel it. It's coming from building 5. However, you ignore it, thinking that it was just some inmates. That is... until you get too close to a certain guard

{Second POV}

~~~~~

Ever since that moment back in building 5. You kept getting called over there by other inmates. They all talked about encountering a monster. You were confused, and per your job, you asked them about it. All the inmates described it as a big, ape like shadow, extremely strong and agile, threatening, and possessive. You asked what the inmates said by "threatening and possessive"

They didn't give you a response...

On the bright side. The guard that practically pounded you to the wall apologized. And even bought you your favorite snack and drink. Enki looked like he was having trouble apologizing so you assumed that he was apologizing and accepted it.

In reality he just wanted you to stop talking to the damn inmates. Ever since that, you Enki, and Samon would always talk about different stuff when you head over to building 5. Everything was really good between you three.

But for Enki... it was a different story. Every time you visited inmates, Enki would visit straight after and threaten the inmates. All the inmates were terrified. Soon after, the rumors about the 'Monster' circled through the prison.

What made it hard for Enki was that you and the warden knew about it. He was absolutely pissed and vowed to destroy the inmate who came up with that nickname. If you found out the monster was him then there would be no doubt that you would be terrified of him. So he started to do that one thing he could to keep you safe.

Total manipulation.

He started using your own profession against you. Making you overthink into the wrong stuff and eventually you started convincing the other inmates that the so called 'Monster' was most likely just a hallucination because of what a certain inmate had done in the past. The words of a 'Monster' died out and the warden was so proud that she gave you access to more areas. Which just so happened to include the underground layers and archives in each building.

Enki was also proud. He treated you to a dinner and to say you were shocked was an understatement. Hell you ever felt a spark of pride when Enki started praising you. But you didn't want to act on those emotions. Enki instantly realized it and grit his teeth as he realized that the plans that Ruka had instructed him to act on weren't working.

You and Enki got closer and closer. But with each passing moment, the inmates grew restless and more... lifeless. You were worried and would inform Enki and Samon about it. Same said he'd take a look and Enki would pat your head and tell you not to worry about it.

And you trusted Enki so surely things would be fine.

[garfield420]

Lost Time (Part One)

Midoriya Izuku x Reader

AN: wanted to make a small fic inspired by a dream i had a some time ago that i can't get off my mind

It had been three years since Midoriya Izuku passed, and since then you had never dared step foot inside that house. Things would change however when you receive a certain request from the boys mother asking you to house-sit while she was in the hospital. You couldn't refuse her.

warnings: angst, noquirkau, ghosts, slight yandere in a later part, implied suicide, bullying mention, definitely ooc but idc, also not proof read but idc

You got out of your car, taking in the fresh air and the view of cloudy Fall. The orange and brown colors ordain the yard of the house you're staring at as you feel an emotional sensation twirl in your stomach. It's been some time since you've been here, given the last time you were inside that home your childhood friend was still alive. He was more than a friend to you, but you always found it easier to describe him as a your friend as opposed to a 'highschool sweetheart' given the short time you two held with each other.

You continuously stare at the house, knowing full well you'll have to go in soon. You came back to the area recently to help Inko, Izuku's mom, with housesitting while she was away sick, she was recently hospitalized and so she needed someone to housesit in the meantime. You two bonded well after his death, finding solace in being with someone who also carried that unforgettable burden on the heart.

You sighed before going to the back of your car to open the trunk revealing a black luggage case that had all your clothes and belongings in it. You were supposedly staying for a few days until Inko recovered enough to be released so you packed enough clothes to last you for about 3 days. You grabbed your luggage out the trunk and closed the trunk before bringing it to the front of the door.

According to Inko she mentioned that she would be leaving a key behind one of the potted plants, which enough quick searching you find it soon enough. Taking the key you unlock the door and open it. As you step inside you take in the familiar but now distant view of the house, you can't tell if it's the grief or the nostalgia that's making the house look less vibrant and joyful it used to be. The pang you feel in your gut as you stand at the doorway is one you were half-heartedly expecting, but were hoping to avoid. You look at the walls and notice the lack of pictures there used to be when you were younger as you recall a conversation she had with you where she mentioned her therapist recommended she make photo albums instead to help handle the grief better.

You close the door and stand there for a moment, you recall bittersweet memories of Izuku and you when you were kids.

(

Izuku and you sat in front of the TV playing games, a bit too close for Inko's taste but she let you both just enjoy the day. Your mom dropped you off since she had other things to tend to that day, and found it better to let you play with your friend than to hand you off to some random babysitter.

You were playing some kind of racer game, the name that's been lost to you, and you two were taking turns to play it together since Izuku only had one controller. You both were aiming to get first place since the spot had eluded the both of you so far, yet the closest you both seemed to get to was second place.

Izuku sputtered out some noises, once again landing in second place, "The game has to be cheating! This isn't fair...!" he said with a flair of frustration. You reached over to grab the controller, and he reluctantly handed it to you with a pout, as he wanted to go again. You noticed this and a grand idea had popped into your mind.

"Why don't we share? I take this side of the controller and you take the other." You proposed the idea, figuring that maybe if you two put your best skills together in the game that you both can get first. Izuku face changed as he began to think about the offer, before turning to a smile.

"Okay, I'll take the left side of the controller and you get the right, does that sound good?" He offered, as you nodded with a smile. You moved in close to sit right next to Izuku, you both flush next to each other. He froze for a moment, surprised by the contact, but regained himself and you both split the controller. It was awkward handling the controller but you both got used to it. Next thing you know...

"We did it!!!" You cheered, both your faces brimming with elation. Izuku hugged you in joy and you hugged him back. Your face felt warm and you were happy.

You were happy.

)

Tears welled at your eyes as you breathe in the painful nostalgia, you know you should be happy about the time you two got to spend together but another part laments what could have been. Where would you be now if two different strands of fate melded into each other? Would you be happier? Or would you still be as miserable as you feel now?

Your internal ruminations are halted by your stomach growling, realizing that you didn't eat when you left this morning for the four hour drive here. You recalled Inko told you she had some leftovers and other food in the fridge you could help yourself to. You wipe your eyes of the small beads that collected in the corners of your eyes. You recall where the kitchen was and leave your luggage by the front door since you want to eat before you unpack.

She offered to pay for your stay, but you declined since you figured it had been some time since you left this place for schooling. After Izuku's passing, you wrote this entire city off in act of resentment. The only good thing around here is your family and Inko, who you cherish like family. To you, she is the kindest woman you have ever known, and the least deserving of what had happened. She felt bad about you staying since she knew how you felt about everything surrounding his death. You two had met up occasionally for lunch in that time following, you even jokingly refer to her as your second mom since she practically co-raised you when you were young.

Entering the kitchen, you hit the lights in the kitchen, deciding the grey ambience from outside was too much for your worn heart to handle. Warm lights grace you and your mood immediately eases, funny how light can alter your mood so much. You beeline for the fridge, beginning to feel the crushing hunger on you. You grab the first thing of left overs that catches your eye and place it on the counter. Before you go to close the fridge door you feel a strong cold sensation in front of you that sends shivers down your back. You blink for a moment before writing the cold off as coming from the fridge.

You close the fridge and go to nuke the leftovers in the microwave, feeling the sudden exhaustion of the long drive. Realizing you hadn't even taken your coat off, you do so quickly and toss it on one of the vacant chairs in the kitchen. You rub your face and stretch to try and put a little bit more energy into yourself, finding no success in the matter. You yawn as you go back to stare at your food rotating in the microwave, feeling the slowness of time.

Suddenly the sounds of a soft guitar fill the room, as your phone begins ringing. You pull your phone out of your pocket and instantly recognize the caller ID, you waste no time picking up. Setting the phone to speaker phone and placing it on the counter, you answer.

"Hey, Mom Two!" you respond in a cheerful tone.

"Hello, (Y/N)." she responds in a happy but groggy fashion, reminding you again that she's in the hospital.

"How's everything going on with you at the hospital? Nothing too bad I hope."

"Oh I'll be fine I'm sure, the doctor's just want to run a few tests and make sure I'm well and rested up."

You smile as the microwave goes off, you ignore it in favor of the conversation.

"That's good at least, last thing we need you rushing out of the hospital and breaking a hip!" You joke as she laughs in return.

"Hey, I'm that old! You never know, once I'm all healed up I might be more spry than you!" She joked in return as you chuckled. "Did you make it to the house?" She asked, as you feel your smile begin to drop.

"Oh yeah, just got here in fact. I haven't unpacked yet though. How long do you think you'll be in the hospital anyways." You respond in a false cheery tone, hoping to change the conversation. This doesn't go completely unnoticed by Inko.

"Doctor's estimated in three days, hopefully I'll get discharged in two." There's a short silence before Inko follows up with a question. "How's the house? I know it's been a while since you've been inside so I want to make sure you're fine." She said with a slight concern for you in her voice. You wanted to run from the conversation, you weren't ready to talk about this yet.

"Oh it's fine. Actually Inko, I just heated some food up and I'm really tired and I also have to unpack, so how about I call you later tonight or tomorrow?" You quickly try to dodge the conversation, this also doesn't go unnoticed by Inko.

"Alright... but if you have any issues call me, okay? And if you need to leave I completely understand, just let me know okay?"

"Yes Inko, I'll call you later." You hang up the phone, and swallow your emotions. You'll have to apologize to her later, but talking about it will just bring out a lot that you're not ready for.

You grab your leftovers and take them with you to the couch. You're sure you'd be scolded for this but you need to sit down and relax, in front of you sits the living room TV and a coffee table littered with miscellaneous trinkets. You reach for the remote to turn the TV on to fill the silence in the room with something other than your thoughts.

You flip over to some random trashy reality TV, you didn't care what it was, as long as it drowned your thoughts in a lake of silence. You shove a mouthful of food into you as you barely focus on the uninspired drivel displayed in front of you. You take delight in the food, you'll definitely have to send your regards to Inko when she comes back. She was always a good cook, although you'd never say it, you sometimes felt she was an even better cook then your mother.

(

"Ms. Midoriya, what foods does Izuku like?" You asked, looking up at Inko.

"Why do you ask?" Inko asked, a glimmer of curiosity shining in her eyes. You shuffle awkwardly, thinking of a way to explain away your intentions. You and Izuku had just started middle school, and you don't want to lie to her about your intentions, but you're not sure if it's your place you talk about it.

"Just curious is all." You lied, feeling light guilt burden itself on your shoulders. You wanted her to know, but you didn't know if it was appropriate to tell her. You merely swallow your feelings on the matter.

Inko looks at you for a moment, taking notice of your awkward demeanor and the way you're having difficulty looking at her.

"Izuku really likes Katsudon." She responded with a comforting smile, you felt relieved she wasn't going to grill you for more details. You didn't know if it was okay to tell her kids at school were bullying Izuku and destroying his lunches. You felt bad for him, and you wanted to help him by making him lunches, that way he could still eat. He'd never ask for help, he was always worried about burdening others with his problems.

"How do you make katsudon? Can you teach me?" Determined to help Izuku any way you could, you decided this could be the best method without making him feel like he's a burden on you. Inko nodded. and that day you learn how to cook Izuku's favorite food.

)

You quickly scarf the food down as your stomach reminds you why you're eating in the first place, and once you finish you lazily place the leftovers on the coffee table before you. You try to focus your attention to the TV, trying to ignore the fact of your situation and that you still need to unpack, but you fail miserably. All you could think about was when you two were younger and the innocent bliss that came with it.

Your eyes began to tear up.

You felt a strong pit in your throat, rife with emotion. You couldn't hold it in anymore. You choked out a small sob as you covered your face with your hands, breaking down from the grief. You felt the swirling emotions of anger, a sense of loss, loneliness, and most importantly; sadness.

It wasn't fair! Izuku was the kindest boy you ever knew, so why him? Why was he the punching bag for all the other kids? No reasonable conclusion could come to your mind other than all the other kids were awful, reminding you of the vitriol you felt when he died. You remember screaming in anger, threatening to beat up the other kids, you cursed them; hoping one day they'll be forced to feel the grief they made you endure. One thought popped out the most, the one that hurt and broke you the most;

Why weren't you enough to convince him to stay?

You let out a loud sob as you curl inwards to the couch, wishing you were being comforted. For the past three years you've been forced to face that gnawing emptiness as you try to deny it's existence in you, some days you find peace with it; and then there are days like today. You cried into the couch cushions for some time trying to find some comforting solution to your suffering; only leaving you with cuts on your fingers tugging at empty fishing lines from a lake of grief.

Soon enough you felt yourself grow tired from all the weeping, calming down as you lay on the couch. You felt another cold sensation hit you, and you cuddle further into a couch, too heartbroken to fetch a blanket. You close your eyes, and feel the overwhelming exhaustion hit you again. You can wait on unpacking your luggage, you wanted- no, needed rest. This can all wait for tonight, as you just want your brain to be silent for a moment.

Thus in that moment, you felt yourself drift off into a sleep, unaware of the other presence lurking in the house.

[genderisareligion]

May I ask, how are you both trans and gender critical? Do you act on your trans dysphoria or do you think it's mental illness to be trans? Or am I just confused?

I assume you're referring to this post where I mentioned I am "sympathetic to some of the trans experience because I have formally diagnosed dissociative identity disorder" and "some of my alters identify as trans men." I haven't said too much about my DID besides this post on purpose because it seems the majority of this space is hostile to it, which I completely understand as someone formally diagnosed late in life watching the same young crowd of neopronoun queerios who invent shit out of thin air on a daily basis claiming they have it undiagnosed and proud. Despite this unfortunate trend though, neuroimaging has supported its existence and it is these days defined as a form of CPTSD diagnosed 6 times more in females than males.

According to my own terms, I'm not trans. On some level all of my alters believe and are relieved by believing that gender doesn't exist, and when I really examine it, I feel nothing where countless others are describing some nebulous inherent soul like feeling, and recognize gender as no more than sex based stereotypes that none of us should be enabling.

However, according to the terms of some others, I am technically trans, since you don't have to be on hormones or surgery to identify as such nowadays, and the vast majority of the DID community I've come across identifies as trans, in my opinion because the terminology is useful to some to explain what our brain is doing.

Many of my "alters" ("personalities" aka separations in my neural networks who keep memory from each other) formed 10 to 15 years ago before I became gender critical, when I was struggling as a closeted lesbian and often identified with male fictional characters and had no idea what DID even was or that my memory was significantly worse than others'. As of now, the therapist is the only person who speaks to them IRL with he/him pronouns and as if they're actually male, and that's probably going to stay the way it is, it's just helpful for them for healing purposes right now.

They're aware that when I was born my brain was not damaged like it is, that the reality of our body is what it is and it's pointless to try and war against that, and that the parts of me they're associating with masculinity (anger, impulsivity, a deeper register when they speak) are just sex based stereotypes, not their "gender."

As for whether or not I think trans is a mental illness, I think it depends. Personally I think it was my case, but I'm a rare case. Actual sex dysphoria is complicated and more akin to something like anorexia and body dymorphia which are physical medical conditions primarily but also conditions that impact mental health, but now the modern trans community is saying having that is optional, so. Idk I can't definitely speak for everyone there

I didn't and don't experience much dysphoria anymore because radical feminism (of which gender criticism is just a tenet) taught me body neutrality. Radical feminism continues to be a healing force for my condition because it taught me that there's no wrong way to be female.

[whiskersz]

Matchup???

hihihihi, I’m Gray, yes like the color/colour. I’m Agender(afab) and use any pronouns, I’m ace and on the arospec (I think I’m lithioromantic?) Ive had 3 crushes, 1 fem, 1 nb, 1 male. If you’re doing romantic, I do tend to have a preference towards masc people.

I’m honestly pretty average, I’m very middle energy between chill and energetic, it fluctuates depending on who I’m with. I’m an ISFJ 9w1 if that helps. I am the therapist friend and sometimes the mom friend. I am very much a listener, if someone starts ranting I’ll listen intently through it all even if it’s for 4 hours. I have gotten so many hyperfixations that way. I have generalized anxiety disorder (gad) and im currently being tested for adhd.

I’m fine with romantic or platonic, if you want to you can do both

My hobbies include piano, I’m currently learning Duet from Omori, Art, I usually sketch characters don’t usually do big projects unless it’s for a class, baking, I tend to make brownies and cookies, though I can make other stuff like cake, and this isn’t really a hobby but sleeping, I love sleeping(which is weird because I either sleep really fast or I don’t sleep til 6am)

I like my friends, art, rain, comfy clothes like hoodies and sweaters, music, my favorite artists at the moment are Jack Stauber and Khai Dreams, dreaming, reading, puzzles, sudoku, plushies, sleeping, butterflies, Arctic foxes, kittens, fictional characters, and fandoms, some of those include dhmis, hh, interloper(arg), home safety hotline, etc. Some things I dislike are really tight clothing, being yelled at, harsh criticism with no compliment of what I did do good, being left out, feeling lonely, overthinking, my face, specifically my nose, mouth and forehead, pushing people away, ghosting people, and confrontation is a big one.

If you’re doing romantic, please don’t ship me with Angel Dust, I see him in a very brotherly sense. Similarly with husk.

I have listed characters before that I simp over and usually it’s either stoic and kind of cold or excitable and kinda babygirl vibes (I don’t know how else to describe it) and I already said above that I tend to have a preference towards masc

Something else that I could add is I do tend to have a trope I like? I don’t know if it means anything but I’m in love with rude or some other kind of negative adjective but has a soft spot for that one person and soulmate aus but that’s something else.

-Gray🦋

Hey Gray! So sorry for the delay, your matchup is finally here though! I decided to go with a platonic matchup c:

I match you with...

Charlie!

· You seem like a very wholesome person, so I personally think that Charlie would be a great friend for you, being equally amiable!

· She’s your number one supporter and she tries to help you ease your anxiety on particularly bad days; she reassures you that you don’t need to match her energy all the time, and that it’s okay if you feel anxious, she will try her best to be there for you and help.

· She might need some guidance as well, being in charge of the Hotel and all. This is where your mom friend side comes in; she greatly appreciates that you try to help her back, and that you listen to her in times of need. Sometimes she just needs to let it out to figure out what to do next, and you’re the person she goes to for it.

· You will also get to listen to her rants for hours! No matter what they’re about. They will mostly be about the Hotel and how she can improve the quality of life in it, but she will ask your opinions on it as well, and occasionally rant about her interests too. She of course loves listening to you as well, so don’t hesitate to rant back!

· Charlie loves that you like sketching, because she loves drawing too! You show each other what you make and she’s so happy to be sharing a hobby with you, where you can tell each other what you like about the other’s art and point out where to improve if needed. I feel like it’s more about the first thing though, as you both like doing it casually more than anything, so it’s a very positive experience!

· She also likes singing to the tunes of your piano; the others will stop by, mesmerized by your skill and her angelic voice.

· Charlie of course respects all of your dislikes; on your first day at the Hotel you inform her that you dislike tight clothing, and she makes you find a bunch of cosy and oversize clothes on your bed as a way to make you feel comfortable and welcomed.

· She also never makes you feel left out, and always includes you in every activity that she organizes whether it be with the other residents of the Hotel or as just a friend outing or hang out.

· She’s also not a big fan of confrontation, so she gets your dislike for it. If anything, you two can go through it together, and advise the other on how to handle it the best.

· She will also pull you out of your overthinking by coming up with some fun activity to do together; maybe you can give your favorite show a rewatch with her, or you can introduce her to all the plushies that you own- the possibilities are endless!