#anxiety scale

[deebrisbyfish]

With the FINDING DEE COLOR COLLECTION Kickstarter going live, I MAY be experiencing a wee smidge of anxiety! As such, I prepared this handy, dandy scale to help you identify and rate it properly for yourself or the stressed-out cartoonist in YOUR life! 

[unwelcome-ozian]

[katabay]

bayek, doing some exploring :)

[moomoorare]

click for better quality? tumblr loves to compress images worse than dudes repressing gay urges

Art I made for my second work in the Scales of Fate au (Blood In The Wine) featuring The Ocean Queen and her new knights Dame Gem, Lady Pearl and Earl Cleo 🌊💗

[tiddygame]

i’ve stared at this for so long that i now hate it and think ive lost all concept of how to write so take this and get it out of my google docs

the introduction is rough and the medical depictions (and accuracy/realism) could use some (a lot of) work but whatever! here it is, my vague yet still oddly specific idea of how the face reveal would go in @myriadblvck ’s streamer au:

tw: description of a panic attack? i think?

[this takes place post first irl meet but before they’re officially together]

imagine ghost has a glasgow smile but on one side they carved a little too deep and left some nerve damage. time and surgery helped, after which he could eat unimpeded and talk without a lisp, but there's still some facial nerve damage and/or skin contractures from scarring, specifically around the corner of his mouth.

now, everytime he smiles, be it shit eating grin or a full genuine joy filled smile that not even grumpy mcgrumperson could hold off, it always looks wrong because one corner doesn't raise fully like the other.

everything else is fine, there isn’t any facial paralysis, he just smiles… wrong. especially since only one eye properly squints when he smiles, giving him the look of someone who got stuck mid wink.

if he wants to look “normal” (or as normal as he could get it) he has to manually squint his other eye. still, it always felt weird; you don't realize how much those muscles affect the rest of your face until they're gone.

it's why he learned to always wear the mask.

when his expression is neutral, you don’t really notice it. if you can see his mouth when he talks however, it’s obvious that there’s something wrong. he wouldn’t say he’s necessarily ashamed of the scars and damage itself, but it’s the stares that are the worst. before he started hiding behind it, people would openly gawk or even glare at him as if he was some ne’er-do-well gang member that got what was coming to him.

he still remembers the cosmetic surgeon that had been talking to him about fixing the contractures— the whole appointment was a fucking nightmare. the cuts had healed nicely enough especially considering how bad it could have been; he was lucky to only need a little cosmetic help. the only reason he was there was so he could fucking eat food without struggling to open his mouth.

the doctor spent god knows how long breaking down everything wrong with his face like he was a fucking car mechanic lying about how dirty your filter is. the guy constantly mentioned that while he was under, they could also fix his jawline, do a rhinoplasty, trying to break him down to agree to more work.

he was already fuming my the time the doc brought up how kids would react. asking ghost if he wanted to scare children since “you cant expect the little youngins that are still learning about the world to not get scared by something scary,” and that “even some adults would cringe at the scarring.”

what stuck out most was the condescending smile he had when he said it. as if he was pointing out the obvious and ghost was being stupid and shortsighted by not agreeing.

he declined everything except what was medically necessary. the procedure went fine and after an aggravatingly long recovery period, he could eat solid foods again without issue. but the comments still stuck with him.

…okay, maybe he’s a little ashamed.

scaring kids with your face doesn’t feel good and being reminded of everything you’ve lost when you try to smile can really fuck you up in a way words fail to describe.

so yeah, he hates it. he’s gotten used to the mask, both skull clad balaclava and simple medical mask, being a permanent layer of armor. even now that he’s a bit more comfortable in his own skin it still feels wrong to pull it off.

when he gets close to soap, it still feels like a layer of vulnerability that he’ll never be prepared for.

the first time he let soap see his face, there hadn’t been any grandiose build up, no extravagant planning.

simon had arrived just a few hours earlier. he hated commercial flights with a burning passion but it was always worth it to see johnny.

with soaps twin out of town for the week, he had decided to take leave to spend time with his friend, a friend that he most certainly did NOT have a crush on (a disclaimer roach and gaz heard everytime they started snickering over ghost taking leave.)

johnny had cooked something nice and simple for dinner, saying that simon had spent too long with MREs and deserved real food (ghost only agreed if he was the one washing the dishes, soap had laughed and told him he's not so kind as to let him off the hook for chores).

when they ate, it was always in the living room with johnny taking care to always stay angled away from simon, never trying to catch a glimpse, regardless of how much he wanted to see what was under the mask. the obvious gesture of kindness and respect for his boundaries always left him feeling all weird and fuzzy inside. but, then again, johnny seemed pretty good at triggering that feeling in general.

their finished plates were on the coffee table and johnny was watching whatever dumb movie he had put on. he was pretty sure the man spent more time talking over it and making fun of everything than he did actually watching it (it was simon’s favorite way to watch a movie.)

ghost however, was watching soap. thinking.

in the end, it was an impulsive decision made after a strong three seconds of consideration.

“you uhm— you can look by the way,” ghost stared at the can of soda in his hands, immediately regretting the words.

“what?” soap didn’t fully turn, just shifted slightly to hear him better. a simple gesture to show he was listening without turning to face him. it normally made simon happy to see that johnny was more than willing to accommodate for his boundaries. now though it made him feel stupid for robbing johnny of a normal face to face conversation, a normal human interaction, just over his idiotic insecurities.

“my face, you—,” he felt his heart block his airway and tried clearing his throat before continuing, “you can look if you want,” christ he wanted the ground to swallow him whole. why was he getting so fucked up over this?

“are you sure?” he hadn’t turned yet, but ghost could see his pensive expression from here. this should be nothing. realistically, he knew johnny seeing his scars wouldn’t suddenly make him hate him… right?

“yes.”

but it was more than the fear of hatred, wasn’t it? he was scared that johnny would see him. see more than just the scars, see all of the ugly idiosyncrasies and insecurities laid bare. afraid that johnny would see the truth of how unlovable he was.

jesus he was getting so fucking worked up and dramatic over nothing.

ghost didn’t look up. he made an effort to not focus on his peripheral vision. he heard soap turn, heard the intake of breath. the silence was loud only for a second. then, deafening white noise surrounded him, inescapable, suffocating.

fuck.

he didn’t regret giving permission but god did he regret everything else; the stupid scars, the stupid nerve damage, the stupid way he had managed to fall for someone so fucking good like johnny while he was unequivocally unworthy of his love.

stop being so fucking dramatic. you are not together, never have been and never will be. reality was blatant in front of him but it didn’t stop his heart from foolishly hoping.

he heard soap stand and walk closer. saw from where he was still staring a hole in the can his feet step in front of his. saw johnny’s hands raise. he took a deep breath in, closed his eyes, and with a great deal of effort didn’t flinch when soaps fingers grazed his cheek.

both of his hands came up to cup his face, holding him and ever so slightly tilting his face up, giving him the chance to pull away. he didn’t. he may be a coward but he wasn’t backing down.

ghost eventually opened his eyes to see soap staring at him with wide eyes. he looked away, staring off to some point on the right. he hated not knowing what soap was thinking.

they stayed there for a while before soap broke the silence, muttering, “i fuckin knew you had freckles.”

it was stupid but it shocked a laugh out of ghost. he meant to drop his head, embarrassed that something so dumb made him laugh, but accidentally just pushed himself further into soaps hands making him blush.

he looked up and saw soap staring even harder than before. the chuckle died in his chest.

“do that again.”

ghost just gave him a confused look.

“smile.”

such a simple request, a one word sentence, but it set his face ablaze. his breath caught in his throat, somewhere around where his heart was still trying to choke him.

…he hadn’t thought it was that bad but soaps reaction indicated otherwise. fuck. was his it that awful? he wanted the ground to swallow him whole. this was stupid. he was stupid.

“simon,” of course, one word from johnny and it felt like he could breathe again.

“please?”

fucking goddamn soap and his stupid fucking puppy dog eyes and the way he has ghost wrapped around his fucking finger without even realizing.

ghost smiled. there was no real mirth, more a grimace than anything else. he just wanted to get this over with.

soap was still staring at him, his thumbs tracing his lips, following scars, drawing imaginary lines between freckles… if he wasn't so terrified it might have felt nice.

“Christ,” ghosts heart cracked more, “you weren't lying when you said you were beautiful.”

ghost huffed a laugh and went back to staring off to the right, the fake smile dropping. of course soap would try to lighten the mood with a joke.

his panic fled as quickly as it had consumed him, now just left sitting in soap's living room, face still cradled in caring hands, resigned to his mistakes.

he felt so tired and johnny's hands felt so inviting.

“i wasn't joking,” soap looked…upset? angry? wait— fuck, what’d he do?

ghost stared back at soap, confused and tired. soaps nails felt the grooves of the scar, catching where the skin was raised and lowered.

“you don't have to lie, soap. im a grown man. I'm not fragile. you don't need to coddle me,” ghost said it like it was a joke, hoping soap would laugh along and that this would all just blow over. that tomorrow morning they could forget this ever happened.

“are you calling me a liar?” soap’s brow furrowed. great. instead, he had managed to make everything worse and piss off soap as well.

ghost took in a deep breath, giving himself another shot at calming things down, “no, I'm not. I think you're lying, but you're not a liar,” he stood and stepped to the side, grabbing their dirty plates and walking them to the kitchen sink, “you just don't want to upset me, it's fine. I get it. you're a nice person but you don't have to lie to spare my feelings.”

“I am not fucking lying!” as per usual, all ghost had managed to do was make things worse. there’s a reason he had decided to stick to the battlefield and give up on domesticity.

“well alright then. agree to disagree,” he turned the kitchen tap and started rinsing the dishes, waiting for the water to heat up. just walk away. end it there. let us forget about this stupid blunder and move on. please just leave it. please, please, please—

“no.”

the force behind it damn near made ghost drop the plate he was holding. he managed to set it in the sink carefully and turned to face soap, who was now in the kitchen as well.

“i— I'm not just gonna fucking— simon,” soap took in a deeper breath and went to continue but ghost was faster.

“johnny,” he interrupted, walking forward with his hands up in a gesture of surrender, approaching slowly.

one last chance to not fuck everything up.

“the fact is they're called deformities for a reason. they're not cute. they're not pretty. they're your body’s way of healing what it can and protecting what it can't. it's not meant to look nice, it's just—”

“bullshit they’re not pretty! says fucking who?” the genuine distress in soap’s voice and force behind his words caught him off guard. “simon—”

he huffed and ran his fingers through his hair roughly, pulling slightly at the strands. christ, ghost needs to shut the fuck up. every single time he speaks he just upsets soap more and more.

he needs to retake his hostage negotiations courses. clearly he has forgotten everything about how to diffuse a situation.

johnny takes another second to breathe and collect his thoughts before he speaks.

“simon. I know that— that ‘this’ isn't something that's going to fix itself overnight and I don't expect it to. but, ‘the fact is,’ I think you're pretty.”

ghost opens his mouth to disagree but johnny doesn’t let him.

“no no,” johnny put his hand over simon’s mouth, shocking him into silence. he blinks twice, stupefied.

“i think— no. I know you're pretty. cute even. beautiful is a given but obviously worth mentioning.”

his hand moved to cup simon’s cheek. ghost grabbed his wrist but didn’t stop him, wether it was a warning or encouragement he himself didn’t know.

johnny continued, unperturbed, “you disagreeing doesn't change that, right?”

there was a pause and simon realized he wanted an answer.

“johnny-”

“ah ah!” his hand moved back to cover his mouth, grabbing his face and shaking his head back and forth, over accentuating his words, “you disagreeing doesn't change that, right? yes or no.”

he stopped shaking him and moved his hand back to simon’s cheek. simon sighed, defeated, “yes. you are right.”

johnny looked smug, “good. and what do you say when i give you a compliment you don’t agree with?”

simon sputtered, “wha— i don't fucking know—”

“nothing! you don’t say anything!” soap looked way too proud of himself and he continued, “or thank you if you feel so inclined.”

“that was a trick question,” simon replied eventually.

johnny thumbed over his scars once more, again tracing them, “sure it was. now go take a shower.”

he patted his cheek twice and walked to the hallway.

“wait,” johnny probably shook the few remaining brain cells out of his head. “this whole conversation ends with you telling me that I stink?”

“yes. rancid,” johnny opened the door to the linen closet. simon was still in the kitchen. the tap was still running.

“no dipshit, do you not remember telling me that commercial planes makes you feel gross?” johnny threw a towel at him, which he caught just in time for johnny to hit him with a bath rag.

ghost had mentioned that… ages ago, he thinks. on facetime with each other, discussing the merits of bathrooms on public transport. he had said that enclosed, crowded spaces like commercial planes or buses made him feel, well, gross. how—or why—did he remember that?

“but… I’m supposed to wash the dishes?” a weak argument against the stubbornness he was faced with but simon had officially lost track of his mind and this conversation.

johnny shot him a weird look as he walked back towards the kitchen sink. simon still hadn’t moved.

“did you think i was being serious earlier?”

“yes???” he felt like he had been given a lobotomy.

johnny decided to take pity on him and explained in a soft voice that felt out of place, “i was being sarcastic. i’m not going to make you wash the dishes, simon.”

“but that was the agreement: you cook and i wash the dishes.”

johnny laughed as if he remembered something funny, “yeah, i lied.”

simon still stood there, trying to figure out if he had a stroke. johnny had been angry, completely pissed at him, but now was letting him off the hook and calling him pretty? what the fuck is happening?

johnny turned him and pushed him towards the hallway. simon could have resisted but his resolve always seems to crumble around johnny mactavish.

“now go shower, you beautiful bastard,” soap grabbed one of the plates out of the sink and started washing it with water that had probably heated ages ago.

ghost walked towards the bathroom, feeling like he was on autopilot, limbs disconnected from his brain. his cheek still felt… odd? weird? tingly?

it felt something from where johnny had grabbed it. ghost thinks… he thinks he likes the feeling, whatever it is.

he needs to sleep.

[lizzybeanbutt]

ayo?

[potatomountain]

Got lost in my head and came to a lil realization-

Tumblr is NOT a safe space for people on the spectrum. Not unless you're in specific communities on Tumblr that are about the spectrum.

Honestly the internet isn't a safe place for us because the amount of masking and effort we go through to look over out messages and posts before sending them out is exhausting. Having to go over our own thoughts in a little post like this just so we aren't dismissed, ostracized, or frowned upon for our 'odd thinking' or 'wrong words' is so freaking stressful.

Especially in a creative space for those on the spectrum. There are so many things our brain does in that apartment people would normally find offensive or wrong and that I've been shamed for it's surreal.

So again: Tumblr is NOT a safe space for those on the spectrum.

Edit- [11-08, 3pm cst]

I didn't think this would get any views or anything cuz it was legit just midnight ramblings but I woke up to so many notifications.

I'm glad that there are many who do feel safe on Tumblr and it stays that way for you. However there are some that understand where I personally come from. I have found friends, communities, and the like on the internet [and on Tumblr] that have become safe spaces for me.

Tumblr was one as a whole where I could share my creative side and relish in some acceptance until- like I'm sure a lot on the spectrum have experienced- I did something that was seen as morally wrong in a way I didn't understand and seemed to become a social pariah because of it. People I considered safe blocked me, or soft blocked me and we went from sharing moments daily to never speaking or acknowledging each other. I was harassed and told that 'not understanding how what I did was considered wrong' was an excuse to avoid accountability. Attempting to explain how my brain worked was seen as 'attention/pity seeking'.

It's not the first time I encountered situations like this just because of the way I think, things I say or do, that go against societal norms and was met in harsh ways. Just the first time in a space I thought safe so soon after my own diagnosis so perhaps it's my personal feelings that make Tumblr no longer safe. Maybe I just got unlucky.

Either way- thank you all for your input, thoughts and stories and I really really hope that should any of you find yourself in a situation like mine you are met with acceptance and understanding and people who will stand by you.

[ganondoodle]

having emotional outbursts about my hyperfixation, (NOT a meltdown - that is far worse and doesnt happen online and i wouldnt wish that on anyone bc it feels like you are posessed), its like my head is flooded with feelings and cant drain or process them fast enough, and the only outlet i have is to post about it, where people can see it (to no one doesnt work for some reason..) stupidly enough (i know its not the optimal outlet, i havent found anything else that worked .. its also hard to control impulses, and my first impulse is to talk about it, i dont have anyone in real life that cares to listen bc they dont understand anything .. i have to rant to people who know what im talking about? idk, its weird)

i feel like its much more a stress response to something i dont like happening to something i care alot about (that isnt something IRL), like a hyperfixation alot of my projects revolve around, which is why it only happens like this about negative things and not positive ones and why im fine shortly afterwards ... left feeling guilty/ashamed; the feelings have been drained and im feeling ok about, i probably still dont like it, but i can accept it, work with it (even if the response is "fuck that, im doing my own thing now")

the fact that i only get these outbursts about negative things might skew peoples perception of me, which i worry about since alot of things i care about happen here, and i dont like the thought of people thinking thats how i normally am when i am not; while positive stuff happens much more rarely bc i am neutral about most things and only love very specific ones (and even then keep it more to myself .. i also dont know why, fear of allowing yourself to be happy about sth bc then something really bad will happen? like it kinda even was that with totk, after the first trailer i was hyped up like never before, but it didnt take long for the anxiety to set in that it might turn out bad or how i wouldnt like ....... i think i have had this happen throughout my life and it really sucks that it kinda turned out like that again..)

[cyree]

why is my art so much better on magma lmaoo

anyways heres a shit ton of octonauts gjinkas for u guys (+four)

[canisalbus]

While the trick-or-treating comic was very cute, I cannot imagine Vasco not being a little treat kinda guy

Are you telling me he doesn't randomly buy himself candy just for the dopamine and the child-like joy? That he doesn't indulge on halloween spirit and buy spooky candy just for him and Machete?? (who barely eats it but halloween spirit comes first, practically second)

.

[tenrose]

The USAmericans athletes posting about getting full free healthcare check ups is driving me crazy.

What do you mean you are a professional athlete and you can't get access to basic healthcare???

[ssruis]

I still don’t think tsukasa is cool at school (and I never will.) but I do think it’s interesting that he’s actually friends with classmates who would be considered popular

(Source) He’s friendly with everyone & has zero issue with starting a conversation with strangers so it makes sense, even if I doubt that he hangs out with any of his classmates outside of school (too busy with the theatre grind). Rui also comments on how social he is in nene’s Peter Pan card story

(Tsukasa talking to nene) I don’t understand why you’re scared to talk to your classmates they’re just normal people there’s no reason to be anxious (nene is imagining hitting him). In my head everyone is just like this is our friend Tenma he’s weird as fuck & attached at the hip to the guy who sets off explosions on school property. but he’s chill.

[kyofsonder]

I saw someone learning about their own dissociative tendencies and taking the DES-II (Dissociative Experiences Scale) test as a first step in seeing if they want to really dig in and learn to navigate their experiences.

It's only 28 questions, so it can't cover everything -- and some of the terminology it uses is a little outdated. Even so, it's interesting and useful and can be helpful even when your answers are uncertain.

If there are others with (un-dx'ed, self-dx'ed, pro-dx'ed, etc.) anxiety disorders, PTSD/CPTSD, BPD, DID, non-plural dissociative disorders, non-traumagenic plurality, autism, ADHD, etc. who want to check out their dissocation levels as a first step toward further exploration or as a confirmation of a diagnosis or just for fun, I recommend giving it a try. It shouldn't be taken as an official professional diagnosis or the final say on your experiences, but it might offer some perspective of some kind.

[moomoorare]

Something approaches... Oh, poor thing.

From my new fanfic Liquid Smooth for Scales of Fate AU check it out if you've got time :,D

[astralcamellia]

♂️Sei / 'Jiran' ! I've been having fun thinking about how different his life would have been + his resulting behavior. :>

[mars-ipan]

Tomorrow Is Election Day And I Am So Fucking Stressed