#been treading water trying to get my mental health under control recently
Explore tagged Tumblr posts
sorypsoid · 1 year ago
Text
Might be an unpopular opinion but was thinking today about how I'm not sure "neurotypical" is a thing in the way that it's talked about on the social media I've been seeing. Not talking in the medical sense here, moreso reflecting on the use of "neurotypical" as a buzzword these days.
It's not that every person has a diagnosable illness/disease/chemical imbalance/etc but I do think every single person has something going on with them that impacts their judgement, emotions, or actions in a way that causes them to fall out of line with the cookie cutter "neurotypical" expectations at times.
Do y'all really know anybody that doesn't have any behavioral idiosyncracies? Anybody you've spent real time with that doesn't have any instances where they failed to manage something in a "normal" and "typical" way?
Everyone undergoes challenging events that alter their interactions with the world around them, even the people that didnt get the added bonus of medically diagnosable factors. I feel that creating such a loosely applied neurotypical vs neurodivergent divide is an excuse to have a lack of empathy for each other by deciding from the get go that a person from one side will never be able to relate to and understand the other. It's easier to disregard a person entirely if you're able to quickly "other" them.
I think it's a dangerous mindset to get into because you simply can't diagnose whether someone is medically neurotypical or divergent at a glance and people shouldn't have to divulge their personal medical history to everyone they meet to get increased understanding and allowance in social settings. For example, if you have to know whether someone's autistic/depressed/OCD/etc first to determine whether you'll be giving them any leeway for being difficult to deal with in a social setting then you're making an active decision that hinges on that person being open about their medical history, not necessarily being accepting and gracious to people as a rule. The fact is that you just won't have that info and history for every person you meet.
I feel like if we all worried less about who goes in what box and more about extending politeness and patience to everyone in general then we could all have an easier time out there. We don't need to jump to the conclusion that every negative interaction we have with someone is due to a lack of care or malicious intent. Sometimes people just make mistakes and act without realizing the negative impact of what they're doing.
#been treading water trying to get my mental health under control recently#and a lot of the neurodivergent vs typical rhetoric going around is weighing on my mind#because i cant name one single person ive met and spent real time with that doesnt have some hangup or block in their life#if you spend enough time with someone you will eventually see the mask slip and they will react in a way that is not graceful or appropriate#were all just human#another unpopular opinion#its okay to not vibe with someone and not want to hang out with them/be around them#you should be cordial and polite and kind to everyone of course#but you arent obligated to hang out with someone outside of whats required by work/school/piblic space/etc#just because people dont get you and you dont click doesnt mean theyre neurotypical in the buzzword sense#and just because someone is openly neurodivergent doesnt mean you have to go out of your way to be friends with them#sometimes people just dont click and have a hard time dealing with eachother and thats okay#long rant but these thoughts have been rolling around in my head#been having a tough time at work in no small part due to my own challenges in navigating certain situations#i dont want to have to wear a pin saying “hi I have depression anxiety and adhd” for people to extend a little understanding when i fuck up#so im trying to be mindful of how ive been interacting with others when theyre the ones grating on me#since i want them to be able to meet me in the middle when its my turn to make the mistakes
10 notes · View notes
lucysstoryworld · 6 years ago
Text
Polar Opposite | Chapter 5
This is far overdue but life is incredibly hectic at the moment but I’m easing myself into this! I apologise if the read more does not work.
Warnings: violence, domestic abuse
"Rob is due to bring in the profits from the club and same with Henry, they have until five this evening to deliver, correct?" Tom asked Harrison. The two of them were discussing the money due from different clubs and bars Tom owned-- both legal and illegal. 
"Yeah. We've gotten most of the money from the clubs excluding those two and then there's some more due tomorrow morning."
"And Drew has sorted the budget. No deficit I assume?" Tom asked rhetorically with a smug grin curling his lips.
"Have we ever gone into deficit?" The boys broke into chuckles. 
Tom often wondered if it was gone to his head. The answer was; yes, it had very much indeed. He was aware that he had all the money the world could offer to him. But he had his family and Harrison to stop him from becoming ignorant and reckless. The mob leader's thoughts ran to you; someone who was from an entirely different, more pessimistic, background. Parents dead at the tender age of six, in and out of foster homes and orphanages all the way up until eighteen when you became a poorly socialised adult with more miles on your soul than most. When Tom really thought about it, he understood why you turned to something like heroin. It was clear that you suffered from your mental health and had self-esteem issues deeper than anything he could fathom. 
Tom was pulled from his thoughts when a quick tap sounded against the door of his office and you walked in with your bucket of cleaning supplies in hand. When you realised that the room was not vacant, you let a small gasp out of your mouth. "I-I'm sorry. I'll come back in a bit."
"No, stay and get your work done," Tom said. He found it strange that just as he was thinking about you that she walked through the door.
You began to work away as fast as possible, feeling every hair on your body stand on end with the feeling of being watched like a tiger stalks its prey. A few taps on the door made you all look in its direction as one of the other workers from Tom's assortment of lapdogs poked his head through the door.
"Sorry to interrupt, boss, but Mister Williams is here."
"Fuck sake, I'm busy. What does he want?" Tom groaned, his blood boiling at the thought of that man coming into his office. He had never liked the lad, and for no reason either. He was just one of those people that managed to irritate Tom by simply breathing in his general space.
"He didn't say, sir. He said that he was only going to speak with you," The man replied, annoyance evident in his tone. You watched all the reactions to 'Williams' arrival and you could tell he wasn't a welcome guest. 
"Right send him in, let's get this over with quickly then." You noticed how both Tom and Harrison hardened their expressions, similar to the looks they gave you when they barked orders at you.
However, nothing could have prepared you for the shock that filled your being when 'Mister Williams' entered the room. You thought you had felt the worst of your fear when the infamous Tom Holland had sunk his claws into you, but when he walked in it felt like the whole world stopped moving and time was at a standstill.
Your ex-boyfriend strolled into the room. He held himself with an air of entitlement and smugness, the kind that made you want to roll your eyes. 
Oliver Williams.
You began to pack up the cleaning supplies and leave the room, your heart inching its way into your throat as Oliver neared Tom's desk. Your efforts to leave unnoticed were in vain as Oliver made eye contact with you, his conniving green eyes widening ever so slightly. 
"(F/n). . . surprised you're not dead yet but, you don't look too far from it." Your eyes shot to Tom and Harrison, pleading them to intervene with one look. That too was in vain as anyone with eyes could see they did not care. 
"How do you know her?" Harrison snapped.
"Used to fuck her before I raised my standards. The bitch stole money from me to buy heroin." Tears welled in your eyes at his claim, knowing that it was lies he was spewing. You took money, but it was to get away from him.
Tom looked over to you, eyes meeting. While Tom was well within reason to believe Oliver given the fact you now seemingly had a track record, the look in your eyes told him to not trust a word he was saying. One of the things that made Tom one of the most formidable man in the mafia was his ability to read people's body language. He knew if someone was lying to him and if they were telling the truth.
Tom did not let on that he didn’t believe Oliver and barked, "Well we have her kept under a tight leash. Now, why are you here? (F/n), leave."
And like a dog, you left with your tail between your legs. You walked through the hallways with memories of your relationship with Oliver flashing in your mind.
* * *
You and Oliver had been together for just a year, on that day. Your relationship was far from healthy. Arguments occurred on the daily, Oliver's anger and drug problems causing a rift in the bond.  Although this was the one fight you could remember like it had happened just yesterday. 
Oliver stood before you, rolled up fifty-pound notes falling from his grasp onto the floor, his eyes screaming rage, "I seriously can't wrap my fuckin head around why you're such an uptight bitch! Look at me! I'm rich, on top of the fucking world!" 
"It's not your money! You stole it! You don't deserve it! The only reason you're on top is because that's what scum does, it rises!" You snarled, anger controlling every nerve in your being.
"Maybe if you took some of the shit I buy, then you'd be much more chill. You're a fucking psycho!"
"Oh, I'm the psycho yeah? Have you looked in the mirror recently?! You're stealing money from people to buy drink and drugs! I'd much rather be a psycho than be like you!" You screeched, your temper reaching an all-time high. It seemed as though it was the same for him and it became apparent when you felt his hand make contact with your face. In a blind rage, you clawed at his face, vaguely remember him roaring in both pain and vexation. Then the real fight began, limbs being thrown and kicked at each other until finally a fist was landed onto the side of your head and your vision went black.
* * * 
"Why are you just sitting there?" Harrison asked as him and Tom moved closer to you. You hadn't realised you'd stopped moving when you remembered that day. You hurried to your feet, muttering an apology as you cleaned the window. "You didn't answer the question," Tom spoke, his voice strangely interested.
"Just remembering something is all," You replied, hoping and praying to any higher being above that they would not pry any further. It was clear to the men that it was about Williams, however, Tom had a hard time convincing himself that he did not care about your past. 
As the day came to a close, Tom had decided that he wanted to know the connection between you and Oliver Williams -- and definitely not because he was interested, not at all. He just wanted to know if you had any further connection to the mafia; that is all.
So that's how he found himself at your bedroom door at seven forty-five in the evening. He waltzed into the room, to be met with the sight of you crying into your heads. You didn't lift your head, knowing who it was by the lack of knocking on the door. 
"What's the connection you have with Williams. And I want the truth."
You lifted your head, shaky hands removing the tears from your face. "We dated for three years. It was never a good relationship, we often fought and we would usually end up taking lumps out of each other. But after one day, I had enough. I took some money and left. It didn't lead to an amazing life as you can see but anything was better than the road I was going down with him. I think I would've ended up rotting in some bin bag in the canal if I had've stayed with him."
So you didn't buy heroin with his money?" Tom asked, trying to pick apart your life like it was a mind game.
"It wasn't his fucking money. He stole it so he could buy heroin for himself. I took the money and got my arse out of there and to a hostel on the opposite side of the city and here we are," You said. This felt like Tom was talking to the real you, the woman beneath the pain and suffering who had some idea of her self-worth.
"When did you start using?" 
Tom could see that he had treaded into very dangerous waters with the way your whole body tensed. Your eyes wandered to the ceiling, trying to find the words to even begin to explain the beginning. Tom looked at you, seeing the turmoil pulsing inside your soul and before he could think too much about what he was doing, he began to speak, "Look, don't take this as an act of kindness or me alleviating your punishment but there is something about you that interests me. . ." He was quick to realise what he said and with a snap in his tone, he spat, "So while you're working, I'm going to pick apart your life-- figure out everything there is to know about you down to the most minute of details. Then you'll be gone." Terror coursed throughout your blood vessels but, there was something nagging inside your gut. Something was telling you that you witnessed the more human less sociopathic Tom Holland for a moment.
And that did not sit well with you in the slightest.
Word count: 1723
Taglist:  @95epitome @satan-chicken @spicygrethen @greenarrowhead  @slowly-gently  @Erindillon11 @aubreylovesthegames @Bypolarism @truestrenghts @marvelismylifffe  @sithrhee  @tomshufflepuff @agilewithpointlessideas@yourwonderbelle @theheartlocker
If you wish to be tagged let me know :)
61 notes · View notes