#but didn’t react when it was mentally ill eating disorder shit

[brainwasheddd]

The more I think back on my reslationship with him the more I realize he was absolutely horrible and borderline abusive

[duhliriouss]

A Pawn & A King:

Chapter One

AN: This is a long ongoing story that will contain many chapters around 3000 words each. This will contain lots of angst, abuse, smut, drama, conflict, oh and smut! Please let me know if you have any suggestions you would like to see in future chapters. Some constructive criticism is much appreciated as well since this is my first FanFic. If you haven’t already, please read the Prologue below before proceeding to chapter one. Enjoy!

Prologue

Warnings: swearing, therapy, angst, abuse, self harm, mental illness

Summary: Y/N had lived her whole life in Gotham being unappreciated and disgaurded. With no family and an abusive roommate to rely on, Y/N doesn’t have much of a choice to resign anywhere else in the city. Yet she keeps on giving naively until her decent into madness and her meeting of the Joker.

Word count: 3,033

Disclaimer: I do not own Joker - Todd Philips or any character associated in Joker

Chapter One:

Your day carried on like any normal Monday. Surprisingly, you always felt at ease while working at the bank. Away from your reality. Away from anything that resembled your worthless life and place you called home.

You didn’t sleep well last night.

Your last hours dragged as you struggled to hold normal everyday conversations, Yet you always held a smile. No matter how tired you were you tried hard at your jobs. You cared.

You always cared. Too much it always seems. No one ever saw you angry. Your anger only consisted of getting red hot in the checks and running away with tears flying down your face. You’ve always been an emotional person that it make you ache day in and day out.

You felt things intensely.

All this has made you quite the pushover over the years. Someone could slap you across your face and you’d thank them, and/or apologize for anything you might have done wrong.

You hated this about yourself. One of your major flaws was muttering apologies for every action you made. Your psychiatrist has helped you discover over the months it was how your, now deceased brother tormented you all your childhood. And of course not letting you forget the disappointment your father had for you all your childhood years.

You knew you shouldn’t be sorry for most of the things you apologized for. But you’ve lost control on how to handle yourself when the real moments came.

The clock hit 4:00 pm and it was finally time to finish the rest of your exhausting day.

You swallowed hard as your feet left the building.

You didn’t like walking through the allies and streets of Gotham. You were used to being alone and even though you’ve walked alone in these streets over and over day by day, you always clenched yourself tightly looking down at your feet as you walked a steady pace, only focusing on point A to B.

Walking by people fighting and screaming, creepy men whistling as you hurried by, ignoring the robberies and drug deals as you focused your attention on the ground was a daily thing in Gotham. Yet it never ceased or lowered your fear.

You made your way to the train station and took a seat. You finally looked up to take in your surroundings for the first time since you left the bank.

Graffiti scattered most of the walls, mixed with flyers and Thomas Wayne For Mayer posters. Your eyes darted carefully around you to find just a few other passengers. Not sensing anything intimidating you focused your attention back on the poster.

Moving Gotham Forward

you huffed a small laugh quietly under your breath. You didn’t give a shit about politics. But some things you couldn’t help but chuckle at.

The city has always been run by the rich. Spilling their euphonious sounding lies as the city eats it up year by year. And when you see Wayne on the news, You don’t see a difference. That was one thing you wouldn’t let yourself be a pawn over.

~

“How’s your job”

“It’s good.”

“Home?”

“Fine”

You kept your eyes down fidgeting and twisting your cigarette in between your fingers.

Every week your multiple breakdowns gave you mental notes to talk about in your therapy sessions. Yet when the time came... you just sat there. Struggling to say anything at all.

The quietness and the burning of her eyes on you quickened your heart rate.

“Have you been journaling like I asked”

“No Mam” Your voice was soft and apologetic.

“And why’s that?”

You finally lifted your gaze to meet hers

“I don’t have time, I never have any time”

“Ah”

You watched silently as she traced her pen over the stacks in her folder printed with your name. Silence filling the room again.

“How does it feel coming here every week, having someone to talk to. Does it help?”

You took your time trying to find the right answer. You didn’t know. You never really knew anything once you sat in that seat. Once you walked through those doors you WERE a closed door, fumbling over your words. Frustrating yourself when you couldn’t find them.

“I - I don’t know. I think it was better for everyone around me when I was locked up in the hospital”

Your sentence started off nervous but as your heart rate slowed to your words, you felt the familiar numbness hit your chest.

Unbeknownst to you, your physiatrist noted the strangely similar, yet still different personalities you and someone else shared.

“I’m here to help you, you shouldn’t let yourself feel a burden to the world around you”

You couldn’t help but let out a cold, almost sarcastic laugh. Taking a drag off your cigarette you shifted your body to sit up straighter. You replayed her words in your head and frowned shamefully, Furrying your brows together and keeping your gaze downward

“I’m sorry. I’m not laughing at the fact you’re trying to help me. I just -“

You didn’t struggle with your words this time. You simply didn’t know how to tell her you’ve been living with someone whom has beat you countless times, made you feel more of a burden than anyone else. Never mind everyone else in your life. You didn’t have a family because of your burdens. No one at your jobs appreciated you and now that you think about it, you don’t think you’ve ever met anyone who has actually appreciated you for you.

But what can you do? You were stuck. You didn’t have any other choices in Gotham to resign to. And being manipulated by Harvie for years now.. frankly, you were just too scared to make any decisions in your life.

You noticed you haven’t said anything in awhile.

You looked up again at the woman you knew didn’t truly care about the struggles you went through. Her eyes stayed down at your papers, flipping through the pages.

“You’re on 3 different medications, Y/N. Would you like me to up the dosa-“

“Yes, please”

You responded fast and eagerly. You’d do anything to not feel so bad anymore.

“Alright..” her words were flat and unamused.

“I’ve also been noticing your Bipolar Disorder has been more; manic recently. I’m going to prescribe you Lamotrigine. Just don’t take it in the afternoon with your anxiety med, and start taking your birth control in the morning instead. Taking all these together can make you become rather reckless.”

Your mind drifted off at “manic”. You stared past her left shoulder as she continued to speak into a complete zone out.

You were precisely dead inside.

“Can you remember that?”

Your eyes darted back to her. You gave her a warm fake-like, but believable smile and nodded your head

“Yes mam, thank you”

Her eyes studied you carefully then up at the clock that hanged over the door behind you.

“It seems our time is a little over schedule”

You both stood from your chairs rhythmically

“Let me know how you’re feeling next week”

“What?”

“You know, any side affects, nausea, change in mood”

“Oh yes.. right. Okay” you gave one last, sheepish smile before turning on your heels to the door. Keeping your head down preparing yourself to face the public again.

You opened the door quite fast and started to walk, fumbling to try and get your hands into your coat pockets to pull out another cigarette. Before you could take a third step you bumped right into something solid.

You bumped into someone. You clumsily tried to take a few steps back but a pair of strong hands kept you in place from falling, both hands on your elbows.

Your face shot up to look at the face of who you just humiliated yourself in front of.

But you were met with gorgeous, humbling green eyes.

“Oh.. hi Arthur” your cheeks instantly flushed still embarrassed and not sure how to react. As your eyes stayed locked, you took in his features being so uncomfortably close to him. His hair was slicked back and his lips curved into a slight smile, making the crows feet on the corner of his eyes accentuated

“Im so sorry, clearly I don’t pay attention to my surroundings as often as I should”

He let out a breathy laugh, letting go of your arms. You now kept your eyes to your feet.

“Where are you so eager to get to anyway?”

“I’m not sure. Just in my own little world I guess. I uh.. also have to stop at the corner store to pick up some food items for dinner tonight. Then I have to go to the laundry mat to put in a couple hours..”

You found yourself rambling. He didn’t need this much explanation. Stop talking!

You finally stopped and cleared your throat along with one deep breath. Not hearing anything you decided to slowly look up and meet his gaze. Arthur almost looked as nervous as you were. But he still held a somewhat amused smile.

“Y/N, are you alright? You seem more flustered than usual”

“Yes I’m fine.. just a busy a schedule today is all. Again, I’m sorry for running into you.”

He studied your face as you spoke. Noticing the dark bags that had accumulated under your beautiful (y/e/c) eyes. His eyes then wandered to your flushed cheeks before briefly landing on your plump red lips. You suddenly felt attacked under his gaze and tried it focus on anything else around the hallway.

Arthur noticed this.

Feeling awkward for clearly making you more uncomfortable he cleared his throat and went to stutter out a goodbye before entering the room you just left seconds before. But instead surprised himself with the boldness of what he said instead

“Would you like to get coffee tonight?”

“I - I can’t, I have to work and and cook dinner for Harvie and I tonight”

“Oh.. right” he laughed nervously “sorry that was stupid of me to ask..”

“It’s okay”

A silence filled the hallway

“Hey, can I uh” he slicked his hair back anxiously “can I at least give you my number? You could really use a real cup of coffee sometime this week. just call me on a night your not so busy, maybe?”

His sudden boldness caught you off guard.

You and Arthur didn’t know each other well. But you’ve been acquaintances for some time, and have run into each other quite often.

You first met when you had group therapy sessions together from time to time when you both were in Arkham State Hospital.

You also saw him once in awhile at the laundry mat when he picked up him and his mother’s clothes

And now coincidentally enough, you both saw the same physiatrist in the same day. He always was the appointment after yours. It has left huge opportunity’s for small talk. Which you both indulged in any chance you could get.

Most conversations you both shared with each other were rather awkward and short. But there was this strange feeling that made you not mind so much.

You could sit for hours in awkwardness with this man. He never intimidated you. And you felt more yourself in his presence.

But you still didn’t really know anything about him except that he lives and takes care of his mother and lives down the block from you.

“ s-sure..”

you looked up innocently at him. You didn’t think about your answer as it just poured out of you. You felt like you were under a spell Everytime he spoke to you. Especially now.

He gave you a ear to ear grin at your answer which was short stopped when you both noticed there was no pen or paper.

“I have a pen!” You unnecessarily shouted.

You dug through your black crossbody cotton-like purse and pulled out a pen with the banks name printed on the side.

“Here! I uh.. don’t have a piece of paper though...”

he chuckled at your ditziness and took two strides over to you until he was mere inches from you. Taking the pen from you

Your heart skipped. Adrenaline shooting up your spine deliciously.

You didn’t realize how much taller he was, your head only reaching to the mid of his chest.

Your nostrils filled with a sweet smell of cigarettes and a slight scent of .. some sort of mint?

You felt dizzy

“Can I see your hand?”

Without a word you lifted your left hand just enough for him to snatch it and it up bring it up to his chest. He began to write his number on the back of your hand.

You twitched to the sudden pressure he put against the skin with the ball of the pen.

neither of you spoke as he took his time to write. Your eyes instinctively fluttered shut, enjoying the gentle and subtle contact your body hasn’t felt for a very long time.

After finishing he gently let go of your hand. Bringing it back to yourself, you examined his work. Taking in the attempt he had made to try and hide his messy handwriting which failed beautifully.

You looked back up at him, your cheeks beaming red

“See you around, Arthur”

The air was heavy as you turned and walked away down the short hallway as fast as you could , overstimulated by everything that just happened. You needed to be alone outside again so you could breath and make sense of everything.

“See yuh” he let out softly, Barley enough for you to hear before shutting the main door behind you.

Once outside you turned and leaned your back against the old concrete wall, eyes shut and arms against your chest. You took a minute to breath. Once your heart rate slowed down you opened your eyes again and fumbled in your coat pockets again to light a cigarette. You took one long inhale then managed yourself to peel yourself off the wall and continue on with your day.

You were still very much flustered. You could not for the life of you stop thinking about what just transpired.

There was always a weird flirtatious vibe when you and Arthur had some time to converse,

but this was different.

You suddenly had a new feeling towards him that left bursts of butterfly’s go up your body.

You tried to shake it off as you got back on the train to go to your second job.

You were a little late. 10 minutes to be precise.

You walked through the doors of the laundry mat to find your boss, Nyle sitting at the register area looking not so amused

“You’re late, Y/N” he didn’t look up from his paperwork that was laid out on the desk

“I know I’m so sorry, I just..” You couldn’t lie. “I uh, my therapy app-“

“You think I need a fucking reason? You show up and do the fucking job. You only do three and a half god damn hours. If you can’t do something that fucking simple, you’re fired”

Tears sprung in your eyes at his words. You never got used to Nyle yelling at you. He was an old miserable man that was never happy no matter how well you preformed. Every little mistake was taken seriously.

“Y-you’re firing me?”

“Oh give me a break. You’re gonna cry now? You act like this the first time something like this has happened. You’re either late or you never do what I ask”

“I’ve only been late a small handful of times since I’ve worked here over a year ago! And I do what you ask of me all the time! It’s never good enough for you because your expectations don’t make any sense!”

Your breath caught in your throat and your body started to tremble. You shook as you felt heat rise all throughout yourself.

“Get out”

You turned and flung the doors open to leave, tears streaming down your face. You held on to yourself tightly as your turned into a dark ally and let yourself drop against the brick walls.

Audible cries left you and you didn’t care who was around to hear.

You took in your surroundings and didn’t see anybody. Piles of trash filled the ally and around yourself. You looked up but the cities buildings towered over blocking the sky.

You closed your eyes, your head raised against the brick. You muted your sobs so you could listen.

You heard a couple’s argument around the corner of the other side of the ally, sirens in the distance, more screaming that seemed even father away, and groups of laughing and clattering coming from a pub next to the ally side you just entered.

You started to silently laugh to yourself. Looking down at your cigarette, twisting and turning it between each finger. Your legs were half bent displayed out in front of you.

You stared at the amber of the cigarette while still listening to the cities commotion.

Without much thought you slowly turned the cigarette so the amber floated just centimeters from the back of your right hand. You slowly pressed it against your skin listening to the sizzle as it bubbled your delicate skin. You didn’t twitch or move to the sudden pain it Illuminated.

Instead you managed to display a small genuine smile.

The smell of burn skin hit your nostrils. You pushed harder until the cigarette was out completely, letting it fall from your hand.

Closing your eyes again you started singing softly to yourself.

( quick AN: Let’s stay together - Al Green)

Whatever you want to do

Is all right with me

Cause you make me feel so brand new

And I want to spend my life with you

You were talking about yourself

The familiar imaginary music beaming in your head. Your head stayed up against the cold brick, a sinful smile stretched ear to ear. Your arms laid stretched out to either side of your body Your voice cracking as you sung:

Oh baby

Let’s, let’s stay together

Lovin you whether, whether

Times are good or bad, or happy or sad

[vinylhazza]

Genuine question: when is it ever appropriate to tell someone you offended to fuck off? That’s extremely insensitive.

Genuine answer: i guess that was a bit harsh to outright say fuck off but can you really not voice an opinion which you feel very strongly about with your actual name and face? why are you hiding? im just confused why i don’t know who you are if you’re gonna clap back at me and expect me to take it seriously. i’m sick and tired of people and their double standards. i really am. since when do people give a flying fuck about anyone else’s feelings except their own? it’s obvious they don’t judging by what grayson just had to do out of pressure from his own fandom. madison deleting her account because of hate anons. actually no not just madison MANY people that i know of. people sit up on their high horse like they don’t ever say anything out of line. no one gives a fuck about leahs feelings apparently. or anyone else’s. there is a total disregard for plenty of people’s feelings and even if they have never actually been told to fuck off - the fact that many people ignore the mistreatment is enough said. so yeah, i’m angry. i’m angry because it seems to me that i see a lotttttt of people trying to gatekeeper how to react when it comes to thing like eating disorders, mental illness, etc. you can be offended, but when you’re hateful about it? that’s where i become i kind. because as someone who struggles with several mental illnesses and an ed i can promise you i would never say something so hateful to someone unless i has good reason. there seems to be a lot of rules and regulations. when is that ever appropriate? i lashed out because i’m angry anon. everyone who comes on anon wants to be heard so bad, but when you don’t like the anwer suddenly you’re lashing out. i’m surprised you’re okay with what’s happening here. that worries me the most. it really does. nothing about this is okay. nothing about what’s being sent to leah is okay. nothing about what happened with grayson is okay. do you know how much shit i receive in my inbox? you’ve probably never stuck up for me have you? lol didn’t think so. people only care when something outright affects them and i’ve had it. i did delete the fuck you part of my post because that was a bit mean, but i stand by the rest of what i said.

[internaljiujitsu]

5 Realizations That (Finally) Got Me Off The ADHD Treadmill

I used to hate reading books. I did it anyway but couldn’t last more than five or ten minutes before dozing off or having my mind dart away to distant lands. Like the skinny kid with no appetite that had to force feed himself to pack on muscle, I shoved books into my brain because I hated the idea of not being well read more than I hated reading.

As a kid, I often left things undone. — or worn out to the nub. After beginning enthusiastically, I’d soon lose steam and beat myself from pillar to post for quitting. I’d always hang around through the torture just to avoid the sting of giving up again. Once the interest was gone, whatever I was doing became pure misery. This would inevitably lead to mental and physical breakdown, as every cell in my body rejected the reality my mind was accepting.

I got good grades and excelled athletically but always thought I could do better. There seemed to be a gear missing — the one that I just knew could take me to a place that felt right. If I were just better, more disciplined and able to focus more — but I didn’t think I had it in me.

Back then, I didn’t know I was working with a slight disadvantage. While medication has played a crucial role in managing my ADHD, and no doubt would have made a massive difference in my childhood, it’s been just as important to build coping and productivity skills. While ADHD makes it difficult to work for other people, it also challenges your ability to self-regulate. Your perception of time is thrown off, so keeping track of your own schedule can be tough without a system.

Before I ever tried medication, in my forties, I spent my life learning skills to make up for what I saw as inadequacies. I’m thankful that I built a technical foundation before supplementing with chemicals, but eternally grateful for what meds have done for me. Once I was properly diagnosed, I realized that the progress I was able to make on my own was astonishing. Giving myself credit for putting in the work motivated me further. The medication made it all click. It was the missing piece I’d been searching for after years of hard inner and outer training.

Here are my five keys for finally jumping off the ADHD treadmill. Once I inserted these into my belief system, I no longer felt hopeless. The limiting, negative self-talk stopped. It took a long time to finally put everything together, but the results have been life changing.

Meds Are Not Evil

Like a lot of other people, I didn’t believe ADHD was real. My perception was that it was a made up disorder designed by drug companies to pump kids full of personality stifling drugs — an excuse for parents to medicate energetic kids and abdicate responsibility.

Meanwhile, I lived every day in lonely terror, until my symptoms became so overwhelming that I became suicidal. At that point, medicine was my last hope. I read books, meditated, prayed, had countless therapy sessions, including EMDR, and took massive action to change my life — but I hit a healing wall. I needed a boost.

The wiring in my brain makes it so ADHD medication that would make the average person speedy simply makes me feel normal. I am no longer listless and suicidal, disappointed in myself because my aspirations outweigh my self-belief. Before meds, it felt as if I was receiving random radio signals from everywhere. The one that always caught my ear never had anything good to say. Still, my disciplined nature dragged me through my days.

The stigma against medication and the dangerous abuse of these drugs by the general public has left many people unnecessarily living in misery. Prisons and homeless shelters are purgatories for the mislabeled, ignored and discarded members of society unlucky enough to suffer from mental illness. How many of those fortunes could have been altered with the right diagnosis, treatment and protocol?

2. Medication + Discipline = Badass

As a person that uses discipline as therapy, I once thought I could muscle my way through pain. Becoming older in the martial arts world means you have to fight smarter. That’s the trade off — you are wiser and have a much better understanding of your art, but your body does not react the same. Nature seeks balance.

But fuck that. If you take care of yourself, you can whip on the youngins long after your head is covered in gray. Combining experience with conditioning makes you unstoppable. That’s how I see my mental health approach.

If you have no clarity, you won’t make the best choices. You simply can’t see what’s in front of you without a trained eye. The frantic nature of the ADHD mind is like a white belt thrown into what we call the “shark tank.” It’s a relentless onslaught of tough competitors coming in fresh at intervals to continuously beat your ass. No place for white belts. That’s what life feels like off my meds.

The passions that occupy my time have kept my brain buzzing enough to distract me from my buzzing brain. Now that the unwanted chatter is gone, I can feel the good kind of buzz — the warm, fuzzy feeling of loving what I do without feeling like I have to do it.

Would I have preferred avoiding all the pain I felt over the years and just been medicated all along? No. If life didn’t necessitate that I acquire the skills that I have, I wouldn’t have been driven to pursue them. I may have relied too much on the drug. I would not have changed. But I have a feeling the relief of the meds wouldn’t have been enough — It’s just not who I am. I know that now. Eventually, I would have gone searching. At times I almost feel like I have an unfair advantage now. Technical ability and practical experience. Strength and skill. Balance. I’m glad it happened the way it did.

3. You Feel How You Eat

While nutrition has always been important to me for physical fitness, I was more concerned with appearance. As I got older, my focus became increasing my energy levels and feeling better. It wasn’t until after being diagnosed and forming habits around optimizing my abilities that I realized the importance of nutrition for good mental health. Inflammation caused by certain foods is detrimental to brain function and a frequent culprit in ADHD.

Once you’ve gone down a suicidal rabbit whole, giving up gluten is a tiny price to pay for sanity. Not that you know what sanity is — you just know you don’t have it.

Unfortunately, a lot of people don’t give a second thought to the type of food they put in their mouths. Lifestyle is a gigantic factor in mental fitness. Eating foods that promote brain health (fatty fish, blueberries, avocados) and avoiding processed products and sugar will ensure you have the energy and mental clarity to face the day.

4. Your Phone Is A Tool

People love to complain about how their phones have taken over their lives, but we’ve got the most amazing tools ever invented in our pockets. You can read books, listen to podcasts, watch Ted Talks — non stop learning at your fingertips — all the time.

But, with great power comes great responsibility (Stan Lee will never steer you wrong). Just like television can range from “The Sopranos” to “Jersey Shore,” your cell phone can educate or anesthetize you. If you’re not disciplined, your time will be eaten up swiping left to right and “liking” shit you couldn’t care less about.

Take advantage of your calendar and alarm features to schedule everything. Don’t assume you’re gonna remember, because let’s be honest, you’re gonna forget. Use voice memos and notes to keep track of ideas and journal your feelings and thoughts. You know you have to keep yourself occupied, so download the Kindle app and have a book at the ready for down time. Listen to a guided meditation. Take an online course on the go. Learn a new language. It really is endless. Use it wisely, and your phone is the ultimate weapon. No utility belt required.

5. Less Sleep Isn’t Helping

Feeling lazy had me convinced I needed to force myself to do more. That meant getting up earlier so I could get shit done. With a schedule that had me winding down at ten o’clock at night after teaching martial arts classes, it was tough to go right to bed. If I wasn’t careful, I’d lose a half hour of sleep here and there because I wanted to stay up watching television (which miraculously has a way of leading to chips or ice cream). Arnold Schwarzzenegger famously said that you should learn to sleep faster if you can’t get by on six hours of sleep. After years of insisting on shutting down for a minimum of 7–8 hours to promote physical recovery from training, I tried getting by on just 5–6 hours. No dice.

My brain and body just don’t work the same. The sleep I was getting wasn’t all that restful either. I’d frequently wake up during the night feeling restless. It wasn’t until I developed sleep rituals that I began falling asleep quickly and getting a deeper rest. With repetition, my body and mind got used to the same sequence of events every night leading up to bed time. Once I trained my brain, my body knew what to do as soon as my head hit the pillow.

By now, I’ve learned that seven hours is my sweet spot. Eight clean hours can make me feel like superman (mental note: start sleeping eight hours a night).

Recent research suggests ADHD symptoms are often a result of insufficient restful sleep. Sleep deprivation also exacerbates symptoms in kids and adults with ADHD. Your physical and emotional state is undoubtedly better when you get sufficient rest. Staying up late into the night with unproductive bullshit is a mistake, but so is getting by on five hours because you want to prove you’re a tough grinder. You simply won’t be functioning as well. It’s self-sabotage.

There is no magic pill to fix you. If you think of meds that way, you’ll be putting scotch tape on a gunshot wound. You’ve gotta stop the bleeding. Dig the bullet out. Repair the internal damage — then stitch it up. You’ve gotta let it heal and start actively rehabilitating if you want to get stronger. It’s not going to happen by accident or by divine intervention — even though it may feel like that in the end.

Although I’ve developed a good arsenal of skills to maximize my mental wellbeing, I still want to continue growing. My next step will be scanning my brain to understand what areas are being over or under stimulated and adjusting my lifestyle accordingly. As Dr. Daniel Amen, one of the nation’s foremost psychiatrists and a leading expert on brain health says, “Did you know that psychiatrists are the only medical specialists that virtually never look at the organ they treat? Think about it. Cardiologists look, neurologists look, orthopedic doctors look, virtually every other medical specialist looks — psychiatrists guess.”

It seems so obvious now that I want to run out and get my brain scanned as I write this. I’m excited to discover what changes I can make to improve my performance and sense of well being. Brain imaging will provide a road map.

No matter the cards you’ve been dealt, planning and hard work can help you become who you want to be. No circumstance is a limitation to an open mind. There are always ways to improve if you’re willing to search long enough. Luckily for me, I tend to get a little obsessed.

[commandercoriandersalamander]

Wayward Son spoilers / me blathering about SnowBaz like I understand human behavior and romantic relationships

tbh this whole line of criticism reminds of back in Fangirl, when people were criticizing Cath’s social anxiety for being poorly written and nonsensical and frustrating, and I was just sitting there like “but that’s me tho”

tl;dr: mental illness doesn’t have a satisfying narrative arc, and that does make it tough when there’s a whole book about it, but I think it’s worth it. Also when people are in bad places mentally, everything turns bad including relationships, but that’s not inherently abusive.

I’ve seen people talking- or more accurately talking about people talking- about how Simon and Baz’s relationship is unhealthy and/or toxic and/or abusive and that’s something that’s very frustrating because their relationship was one of the best things in the book IMO?

Not in the sense that I think it’s the paragon of great communication and stability obvs. But in that I’m so super glad there’s a book about two people who love each other and then also love isn’t a cure for mental illness and trauma.

I feel like usually when this trope shows up (if it does) it’s a depressed dude falling in love with a girl with an eating disorder or something and they’re bad for each other and then the girl dies or gets carted off to a mental institution for forever or something, and the boy has an epiphany about that and lives with his depression semi-successfully. And I really hope I don’t have to explain why that type of story is gross.

Nah but I think some of the reasons people are dissatisfied with the book is that both the readers and the characters are being forced to face that really shitty uncomfortable fact, which is that a) mental illness is messy and fickle and not poetic and doesn’t follow a narrative structure and b) romance isn’t a cure or solution.

Because that’s where I beat myself up the most! My mental illness wouldn’t make for a satisfying novel! It wouldn’t make me tragic lost Lenore love interest! It just makes me depressive and bad at communication and constantly worrying that I’m hurting someone I love!

Simon and Baz’s relationship isn’t abusive- I can’t believe people are calling it that, not everything unhealthy is abusive- and it’s not toxic. Rather, their self-talk and the way they each react to it is toxic. It’s unhealthy because they’re both at unhealthy places in their lives, and romance isn’t separate from that, if you’re angry and depressed about everything all the time, that’s going to include your relationship. It doesn’t mean that they’re bad for each other, it means that they’re bad to themselves.

Which is a hard thing to see about your favorite characters! But see above where I talk about mental illness not being a satisfying narrative arc!

Baz isn’t bad for Simon- Simon constantly worrying that he’s bad for Baz, that he’s disappointing Baz, that Baz would be better off without him- that’s bad for Simon.

And Simon isn’t bad for Baz either. Baz constantly worrying that he’s going to hurt Simon (either in the vampire way or the “shit I triggered you by accident how do I fix this” way) is bad for Baz.

Simon thinks that he has to be a strong after-success hero for Baz, and the fact that he isn’t is making Simon’s depression worse. Baz thinks he has to the magical cure-all love interest for Simon, and when that isn’t true Baz’s depression gets worse. But these are things they’re expecting from themselves, not each other. Which is why I don’t think it’s quite right to say their relationship is toxic. When you’re in a shitty depressed place, you can have this dialogue with yourself about anything. (”I didn’t hold the door open for the mailman! They probably expected me to hold the door open because they want me to be a nice person! But I’m not a nice person, I’m a disgusting door-closing mess who should just give up and die.”)

I do genuinely hope that they break up in the third book- not for good! But because I want them to take some time and figure out what happiness and stability looks like for them in a way that’s not dependent on their relationship.

And I know people hate how bad they are about communication but a) that’s a huge part of how trauma works and b) did you read Carry On? Simon is horrible at putting his feelings into words, he literally grew up in places that didn’t bother teaching him to talk! And Baz grew up in a house where he had to avoid talking about his vampirism, queerness, or trauma in any way because it would be uncomfortable for his family! And then the two of them spent the last six years being mortal enemies! Of course they’re not gonna know how healthy communication works yet! And that’s frustrating, but it’s realistic.

And, like, this is the second book in a trilogy. Of course it reads like the second book in a trilogy. Good things from the first book are undone, and bigger bad things are set up for the third book. Did I want to scream when I got to the last chapter? Yeah, of course. But that’s cliffhangers for ya.

[boredom-thingy]

TL;DR- I have been sorta kinda diagnosed with Executive Function disorder (psychologist said it was very very very likely that I was suffering from it, but he couldn’t do anything) and I think I’m emotionally abused by my parents. I’m still trying to figure out whats what and what problem comes from where and if I can life hack it. I’m looking for help and/or other people suffering from the same things to add to the list. This is my list of symptoms.

Hey, all of you out there who struggle with executive function disorder or have been emotionally abused, or both. I have sorta been diagnosed with EFD and I think I’m being emotionally abused (I could be wrong and over reacting, I honestly can’t tell). Its been a while but I’m slowly discovering more and more symptoms that I thought were normal or scared the shit outta me (and still do) originally. Here’s an incomplete list, mind agreeing or disagreeing with them and adding your own? And/or how you deal with them?

My Incomplete (and ever growing) List-

Time. My sense of time is off, sometimes a little, sometimes a lot. There are times when I think something happened 2 months ago when in reality, it happened years ago. I can be left home alone and when my parents get home and ask me what I did for hours on end, I have zero clue, its just a blank hole. I lose track of time extremely easily too.

Other Disorders. I often feel like my particular brand of screwyness happens to combine other mental illnesses/disorders like insomnia, depression, anxiety, adhd, add, odd, and paranoia among others

Depersonalization/derealization(dissociation). Especially here recently, I think I’ve been suffering from episodes of Depersonalization-derealization disorder. Its happened in the past but not as much as right now.

I feel like I’m going insane. Constantly. I feel like I’m over-reacting to everything, like everything is in my imagination.

I always feel like I’ve done something wrong/upset people. People I don’t know, people I do know, people I love. I always feel like I’ve upset them or I’m some kind of burden or I’ve done something wrong. (Leads to me apologizing to a chair for hitting it.)

Extreme clumsiness. This one is prolly just me. But its often a source of anxiety for me.

Social skills are next to nothing. I can’t make friends. All the ones I have were introduced to me by other people or approached me on my own. And most of the time they end up ditching me and telling me its my fault. Also, my timing is shit. I’ll walk up and ask you for something while you're busy.

Cotton. I feel like my head is full of cotton, like I can’t think straight. My thoughts are either spaghetti or a train wreck. I lose track of what I was thinking extremely easily.

Memory. My memory is shit. My parents claim its not, and I feel like it didn’t used to be, but it is now. I forget how to do something when I read or heard the instructions 10 seconds earlier. I forget things that are important to me, things that I wanted to get or do. I forget when things happened (ties in with the time issue.) I can’t remember important life events, or more accurately, I can remember them, but the memory seems weirdly muddled and I cant remember when it happened.

Food. I love food. But there are times when I’m light-headed and dizzy, and I know I should eat, but I just... Don’t want to. The thought makes me nauseous, its too hard to get up, I’m not actually feeling hungry (despite the fact that I can hear my angry tummy and I can feel the light-headed/dizziness), etc. 

Being left alone (especially with not much to do). I don’t fear abandonment (ok I do a little, but that not the problem here.) I fear my own brain. I hate being left alone, especially for long periods of time because when I run out of things to keep my mind occupied, all those thoughts I forced to go away come steam rolling back. Intrusive thoughts, suicidal thoughts, self harm thoughts, extremely depressing thoughts, disturbing thoughts that scare me witless, thoughts of running away, etc. I can’t stand my own brain. It scares me.

Motivation. I go to school online, 4.1 gpa (so far) and I am a fairly self motivated person. But there are times when I can barely find the motivation to grab my glasses off the nightstand 2 inches from my face and other times when I’m motivated to do something, I’m almost in a frenzy, and I’m hyper-focused on it. And there are times when I really want to do something (usually something that I love, like a hobby) but the thought of doing it makes me nauseous and I just don’t want to. Or if its a creative thing, like writing, I can’t seem to form a single idea or spark to get me started. My brain nopes out and I can’t do anything but stare at the paper, desperately wanting to write, but my brain is a bout as blank as the paper is.

Body-brain disconnect. Sometime my body and my brain seem to be on separate wavelengths. I want to stop scrolling through pinterest, but I can’t seem to make myself. I want to get up and eat, I know I need to, but I can’t make myself. I want to get up and do dishes or take a shower or do something, but my body just wont move. I want to go do something fun, like watch tv or draw, but I’m no moving, no matter how much I want it.

Pain. I am always in some kind of physical and/or mental pain. Headaches(near constant dull headache), back aches(always), cramps even when no where near that time(I am female), random muscle twitches/spasms/aches, etc. Oh and nausea. I’m nauseous a LOT. I also am light-headed or dizzy (or both) a lot.

Extreme mood swings.  I go from being so happy I could burst to emotionally shut down and sobbing in the corner in the blink of an eye. I go from being so pissed off that I want to slam my fist through a wall and break things to being so depressed I want to kill myself and repeatedly slam my head against the wall until I can’t see straight. I also sometimes get extremely frustrated/angry with the smallest things, like a noise, or something not working right, or the pets being annoying. Sometimes it gets to the point where I want to scream and break something or hit something (I never do and try my absolute hardest not to.)

Morbid thoughts. Fleeting morbid thoughts, generally about somehow injuring/harming myself. I might see a light socket and think “oh hey, you should stick a fork in that and see what happens” or I might see a pair of nail clippers or scissors and think “I wonder what would happen if I tried to cut x-spot on my body with those.” When I was younger, I used to want to sew patterns in my skin with a sewing needle and thread (never did, thank god) so they would scar over and create neat patterns on my skin.

War. I feel like I'm at war with my own brain, I talk to myself a lot. (I am an only child with parents that run their own business ((making them constantly busy)) so that is very possibly a reason I talk to myself. I also have very few friends and I talk to walls and my two dogs as well.) I tell my brain to shut up, to stop it, I feel like it has a mind of its own. Thats weird to say. (woooooo I'm totally crazy, right?)

Apologies. I apologize to literally everything. And about everything. I’ll apologize to a chair for bumping it. I apologize to my boyfriend when I rant to him or ask for help from him. I apologize for anything and everything, small or big. The bigger the issue, the more embarrassed and upset I am about it. Even if its not big to the other person. Ties in with always feeling like I did something wrong.

Defense. I am always on the defense, and sometimes it turns into offense. I always feel like I have to defend myself and everything I do or say that might have even the smallest chance of upsetting someone. And if I know it has or will upset someone, I defend myself more, to the point that it sometimes becomes offense. I can’t stop myself, I feel like I have to defend myself or I’m going to lose something or someone, or they’re going to take something I want or love away from me.

Noises and other various audio things.  Sometimes I feel like I can just barely hear someone calling my name, or a song, or a noise, or something just barely audible, but no matter how much I search for it, I can’t find it. Other times I can quite clearly hear someone calling my name, but I’m home alone, or when I ask my parents or the other people around me, they respond with confusion and a “no one called your name.” Other time noises, like beeps from the printer, even when I’m the one causing it and/or I’ve heard it multiple times in the past few minutes, jar me. They cause a jarring sensation, that is almost bone deep, I feel it in the back of my skull and it causes me to jump just a little.

All of these things are terrifying to me at various levels and they only seem to be getting worse. I study psychology for fun, I plan on going into it as a profession, eventually. I have done research on most of this, but I can’t find much on any of it (except emotional abuse), especially executive function disorder. Please help? (I am always adding to things when I think of more.)

@bradshore @katimorton @we-care-org

[flowers-by-the-bed]

Just ignore this it’s just for me to try and organise myself because idk what to do right now aside from cut myself up and hit my head and I’m trying my fucking best to not do that. But as always I need the knowledge that my thoughts are “out there” rather than just writing somewhere private in order to feel like it’s helped me. Not that I have much hope for that anyway. I was doing so so well, moving on, making progress, taking control of things, finding good influences to be around and getting my work done and it all gets shattered over nothing or when my meds don’t work as well as they should. Everything in my life and everything about me is so fragile and built on such fragile foundations and however stable or genuine the changes I make seem, they are nothing. Even if my mood flips again tomorrow and things magically get better, it doesn’t make my emotions any less strong right now, and it would definitely flip back to this as soon as the next stressor happens. I hate it.

I wrote out a huge post about all my feelings earlier and it made me feel better but I went to post it and the fucking connection got fucked and it deleted itself and that alone has sent me spiralling and im so upset and angry and that just says everything, i almost threw my laptop at the wall but threw my phone instead. I’ve been trying to remember what I said because it made me feel better but I just keep crying and hitting things and myself and I cannot shake it, and that’s my reality rn

_____

I’m so exhausted being me and being this mess and I don’t want to even try anymore. Whatever I do and however much I think I make progress, I always end up back in this situation with no triggers or warning. No progress or motivation is worth it because I will never be fixed or stable and there isn’t a guide to navigate this. Why should I try and move forward when within three days this can happen and I’m back at square one. Either my meds were faulty or this is just me but who the fuck cares which it is because either way I’m just a fucking incapable piece of shit. There is no reason I should flip this quickly and feel so strongly over literally nothing but tiny normal inconveniences and the level that I hate myself because of everything and just in general is too much. I hated myself anyway but EUPD moods make it so much worse and so much more intense and I literally cannot do anything close to normal functioning when this happens. My dad came round to check how I was and I cried for a while but then I was ready to try and go out the house with him, but I saw myself in the mirror and had a complete breakdown and cried in bed for hours and didn’t speak. I’m fucking pathetic but I can feel all of the fucking fat on my body everywhere and it feels like a disease, I disgust myself. I couldn’t move or even think about going outside because I couldn’t and still cant stand the thought of anyone seeing my body. It’s vile and I hate it and even when I have a few good weeks and start eating normal amounts again, seeing my body sends me back into a spiral and I regret ever eating at all. I’m crying now because it just feels like you can see the fat expand by the minute and it makes my anxiety and anger and sadness go haywire. I don’t want to try anymore I’m exhausted trying to pretend that one day I’ll get fixed and I’ll be stable enough for myself that I can lead a normal life but it just isn’t possible. I want to drop dead because this is not living. I am exhausted of my thoughts making me think of the most triggering things when I know full well I am already bad enough that I want to die and hurt myself, and just sinking lower into that spiral until I scare myself about what I’m going to do. Every single month there is something that brings me back to this place where I remember that no matter what progress I’ve made, it’s all fake and down to some fucking pills. And as soon as those get taken away, I’m back to being some pathetic waste of space and effort who’s almost 25 and unable to even control their fucking emotions even at the bare minimum level so I can function. I felt so guilty with my dad here and me just being a wreck and unable to talk or go outside. It’s pathetic. I don’t know why I deserve a head that hates me this much and can’t do it’s only fucking job. I’m tired of faking it and tired of hating myself and tired of knowing that for as long as my life lasts, this is all it’s going to be. And it isn’t a life. It isn’t fair and I don’t know why I had to end up like this. EUPD is ugly and it is vile and eventually, whenever it happens, this will be what kills me. The only things that distracted me even a little was my dad coming over and keeping me busy before I fell back into that hole and Matt messaging me, because it grounded me a little for an hour or so because it was nice to interact when it’s been months, but it didn’t work for long. Those aside, I just want to be someone else. It’s too much, I don’t know how to get my thoughts out, I can’t get the anger out even when I hurt myself or break things, it’s like drowning in self-hate to the degree that you cannot see anything else. I just want to sleep and wake up and have this whole stupid fucking disorder and brain gone or a bad dream.  It’s not hard to see why I don’t achieve anything, I will never get to my full potential because of my brain and the boat has pretty much already sailed on me achieving the things I wanted to with my work anyway. Because of how incapacitated I have always been during education because of this. It’s not hard to see why people leave, why I am too much to handle. I flip so quickly and the anger expects others to understand what’s going on when in reality I don’t have any idea either. I need validation and then I don’t want a thing from them. It’s too much. I don’t blame anyone. I blame myself. Every aspect of my life gets fucked up by my inability to control myself or my thoughts or feelings and this is just a huge fucking pity party for me to try and organise my thoughts, just so that for the rest of today, I might be able to move my head away from them now. I’m exhausted. I’m angry. I’m upset. I’m detached from 90% of the people in my life and I don’t care. I just want to hide until I drop or until just one area of my life makes sense. If I could hate myself less and not want to puke and cry and cut every time I saw my body, I’d be able to come with the sad and the angry. If I didn’t react so strongly to the smallest triggers, or felt stable, or stable in my relationships, or able to trust ANYONE, I’d be able to deal with hating myself a little better. If I didn’t read meaning into everything people say and misinterpret things, or have such a strong emotional reaction to people speaking to me or whatever then I’d have more stable relationships and I could cope better with the rest. If I didn’t have such bad anxiety affecting most of my life, the EUPD in general would be easier to control. If I didn’t feel this inability or desire to share with the people in my life who actually do care, I’d find things easier to deal with and would have an actual support system. But by my own design and suspicion and refusal to overshare and burden people directly, I’m a fucking mess. Everything hitting me at the same time, at 400% power, it incapacitates me. I wish I didn’t have a personality disorder so I knew exactly what I’m actually like, and not constantly wondering what is me and what is an illness. I wish I wasn’t anxious so I trusted people’s intentions and could be myself instead of reining myself in and being terrified of being bad at things or embarrassing myself, and never making progress with anything or anyone because of it. I wish I had a healthy relationship with food. I wish I didn’t self harm. I wish I wasn’t depressed. I just want to be someone else and be a real adult. Life is hard enough without an arsenal of chemical imbalances and broken mental Schemas. I was doing SO well and it equates to nothing. I don’t want to be a 24 year old pathetic mess of a person. It’s too much. Although I do it to myself because I’m not someone who enjoys talking directly to people about my problems and I’d never want to burden them, it’s alienating and hard to try and function without explaining what is wrong.

[thewritingpossum]

You say 'ask me about my hatred for Rainbow Rowell', so now I'm curious...who are they and what did they do?

Ok, so I’ve had this thing in my blog description for litteral years and you’re only the second person who ever reacted to it, bless your soul, truly. It’s gonna be a super long answer tho so I apologize in advance if it bores you to tears. Also there’s some spoilers for her book Eleanor & Park in this thing, if anyone care about that. 

So Rainbow Rowell is a ya novels writer who happens to be highly popular around here (I also think she actually has a tumblr? I may be wrong on that point tho) and who was ever more popular around 2013 when she published her first book, Eleanor & Park, a love story between a fat, non-conventionally attractive girl dealing with abuse and poverty and a mixed race (white and korean) boy dealing with a bit of an identity crisis, all of that with a cool 80’s background. Sounds pretty cool, eh? That’s what I thought but…No.

First of all, this book is incredibly racist. Park (the half-korean boy) has a severe case of self-hatred and internalized racism. He wished he looked like his strong, all-american looking brother who even has an american name and is so much more mainly and can even drive shift (he’s supposed to be his baby brother who is like 13 but I get miss Rowell got confused with her own timeline). I don’t have a problem with that in itself: I can totally imagine a teenager growing up in a mainly white community dealing with that.

 My problem is with the ‘resolution’ of the problem: Park realize that Eleanor (the “chubby” girl) prefers asian guy and since obviously the marker of wether you’re worth anything or not is how appealing you are to white women, he magically get over his issues. Eleanor also spent the whole book fetishizing and otherizing the ever lasting christ out of her boyfriend. She constantly refers to him (in her head, to be fair) as “that asian kid”, “that stupid asian kid”, “that stupid, beautiful asian boy” and being sooooo into the fact that he’s asian (and has magical green eyes that are so different and non-asian but sooo pretty ). It’s very uncomfortable to read, tbh.

If you think that’s bad, wait until we get to her mother, who is quite litterally a racist caricature. Mindy (an americanized version of Min-Dae -which is not even an actual korean name, no more than Park but it’s whatever at this point) is a manucurist spoking broken english who gets compared to china dolls by one of the main character. She was born in Korea but was “brought home” by her american husband, a soldier who was stationned in her country (it’s already yikes enough and only get worst when you learn that Rainbow based that whole mess on a picture that she found of her own military dad with a woman in korean: I mean, I guess it’s your prerogative to write romantic fanfictions about your parents but like…The reality of thing is that there were no love story between american soldiers and the women of the countries they occuped and it’s time for her to accept it).

We also get two black characters, who are Eleanor’s best and only friends (only that she don’t really appear to give two fucks about them). They’re named Denice and Beebi, names that reaaaaally stand out in a negative way when compared to all white people’ names and they speak…Well, the way black characters in 80’s teen movies made by white people speak. One of them (I don’t remember which one) is dating a much older boy and planning to marry him after high school because that’s what black girls do, right? So yeah, I truly believe that this book is one of the most racist published in the 2010’s that I’ve personnally read. But that’s actually just part of why I hate it and loath it’s writer.

I also absolutely despise the way Rowell writes about abuse: a huge plot point is that Eleanor endure mental, emotional and (if I remember correctly) physical abuses from her step-father, abuses that escalade to sexual harrasment. Her step-father favores Eleanor’s sibling, including his own biological son but he’s also abusive to them and severely abusive to his wife, Eleanor’s mom. That’s some heavy stuff, and if you chose to put that in ya novel (or any novel for that matter), I expect you to be able to handle that sensibly and in a way that make sense, at the very least. I don’t think Rainbow Rowell even tried. 

Spoiler alert on how this book end: Eleanor run away from home, starts living with her uncle, the rest of her family escape a little later and her step-father stay alone and brooding in town. WTF?? The idea that abusive men would just be like “oh well, guess I have to accept that my wife left with our children and there’s nothing I can do uwu” is literally stupid. Either the writer didn’t bother making even the most basic researches on abuse dynamics or she did and chose to ignore it. And even outside of that…Talk about a deus ex machina and a cheap fucking ending lmao…

I only read another one of her book, Fangirl. It’s about a girl with anxiety disorder writing gay fanfics and was understandly popular on tumblr when it came out (i’m not hating btw, like…I’m a mentally ill binch writing gay stories so..). I didn’t found it as offensive as Eleanor & Park but her portrayal of mental illnesses was basic and often bordering on insensitivity (I really felt like one of the character’s bipolar disorder was treated as an inconvenience to other characters above anything else).

 Also, the anxious character spent a huge chunk of the book eating energy bar because she’s too afraid to leave her room and go eat in the dining hall…Girl, I’m supposed to believe you spend your whole time on your computer and you never heard of ordering takeout online?? Or just going to buy shits to eat at the supermarket?? How far am I supposed to suspend my disbelief to enjoy those books?

One last thing: a huge chunk of Fangirl is an actual fanfiction about some HP ripoff. Well, my homegirl Rainbow published a whole damn book about her actual Drarry fanfiction. I love fanfiction but I really think there’s something sketchy about putting a fake fandom in your book that’s very obviously based on an existing piece of work and then making money off your imitation but maybe that’s just me.

I would probably be able to chill a bit if Rainbow Rowell was not generally presented at this great representation queen who can do no wrong (and yes, I’m aware that she’s not responsible for the way people chose to portray her). Luckily for me, she’s somehow less popular on Tumblr that she once was and I get to have a break from her weird bullshit.

[girlaboutcampus]

How I optimised my social media for my mental health

cw: this blog post contains references to food, fitness and dieting culture. 

A few years ago I was working for a chain bookstore over the festive period, mostly on the tills serving customers and occasionally dealing with enquiries and shelving. There was blissfully minimal phone answering too. Bookshops tend to stay pretty busy after Christmas with sales, folks coming in to buy something to read in their remaining time off and to buy dieting books. When I clocked in to take my shift on Boxing Day, there had already been a table of dieting and fitness bibles set up, all on two-for-one deals. Whilst I’m sure this table was set up on corporate instruction, it left a bad taste in my mouth. Bookshops are by no means safe spaces- they’re a place you should go to look for material that challenges and stretches your beliefs, as well as things to help you relax.  However, I don’t think they’re a place you go to be judged for your lifestyle, especially if you’re just on the way up to grab a muffin and latte with friends in the cafe. In many ways, this is the experience of being on social media in microcosm.

This summer, I had a bit of a meltdown, which I’ve talked about a little before. Without university to occupy me, I became obsessed with going to the gym. When I didn’t see results as quickly as I had in the past, I started to hyperfocus on my appearance and weight. It quickly became clear that I’d got myself into a dark place, so I started going to see one of the counsellors at my university (which is an enormous privilege you should make the most of if you also have access to it). It became clear to me, in talking to my counsellor, that a lot of my problem was down to the space I had curated for myself on social media. The fitness board I maintained on Pinterest meant that the algorithm was constantly generating unattainable bodies, diet foods and problematic motivational statements. From following some of my younger brother’s school friends on Instagram, I began to feel bad about not having the body shape of a teenager anymore. I decided to clear a whole day to go through all my social media and make it as much of a hospitable space for my mental health as possible. I should be clear at this point that this might not necessarily work for you, though I found it to be incredibly helpful. I’m sharing in the hope that it might make a little difference for someone else. I’ll start with the easier social networks and work my way up to the big guns. 

Facebook

This one might be more difficult for you depending on how much use you get out of Facebook. Personally, I use it mostly for keeping up with events, messaging friends and updating family members. One thing you can do if you only use it for the latter two is delete the Facebook app and just keep Messenger, that way you have to be on an actual computer to check facebook. If you don’t want to delete the app, then start to take advantage of the mute button. You can go through the hassle of sitting going through your whole friend list, removing people you no longer talk to, see, or are interested in keeping up with (you can let go of some people from school at this point, face it). However, I find that the experience of unfriending people can actually make me feel more anxious. 

The best thing I do- and this one isn’t something you can necessarily do in one day- is mute or unfriend as I scroll down my feed. If someone I once met in a job I had four years ago starts posting offensive and ill-informed political memes to my feed, that’s their time to go. If a friend’s mum posts a lot of things about her New Year’s diet, she’s going to get muted for the time being. If a friend posts a photo of her super cute baby, that’s getting a big heart react- give me more of that good shit. A big part of all of this stuff is trying to train your algorithm to show you the stuff you want, even if it fights back. 

Twitter

First huge bit of advice- block all the bigoted reactionaries. That’s your Piers Morgans, Katie Hopkinses, Julia Hartley-Brewerses and that girl who worships guns. This isn’t me openly advocating shutting yourself out of political discourse, or creating some kind of political echo chamber for yourself.  It’s just starving people who thrive on outrage of the attention they crave. I don’t care if you have a witty rebuttal. They don’t deserve your attention, views or clicks. Try to find professional journalists, politicians, and pundits whose expertise you can trust and who conduct themselves ethically and responsibly, rather than trying to just get clicks for their work. Also, read whole articles and think pieces rather than just the headlines. Headlines are often written to stir up outrage over something that just isn’t outrageous.

 Find tweeters who make you laugh, make good art and whose voices you’d like to amplify. 

Instagram (and Tumblr) 

Now we’re getting into the heavy lifters. It seems to me that the more image-dense the platform, the worse it can be for your mental health, especially if your mental health is tied up in your body image. Instagram and Tumblr might be the platforms to be most cutthroat with. What you decide to do with this one is really deeply personal, but I would suggest going with your gut and unfollowing and muting anything that makes you feel less than, no matter how nice the person running it seems. My first call was to unfollow more or less everyone who’s ever breathed in the general vicinity of a Victoria’s Secret Fashion Show. A lot of these models seem to be lovely women, but their lifestyles and bodies are the definitions of unattainable. The one exception I make to this rule is Chrissy Teigen because her content is all about earnestly enjoying food, family and travel. Plus, she doesn’t take herself too seriously. Instagram also has a useful feature that allows you to mute stories, posts or both at your own discretion. That way if there’s someone you follow who posts great travel photos but is always talking about weight loss in their stories, you can filter out that content and keep what you like. I found that, personally, having fewer bodies in my line of sight is for the best. I like to maximise the presence of delicious food, cute animals and uplifting messages I follow. Here are some favourites:

Nigella Lawson

Shila and Eddie the Pomeranians

withlovelinh

Hannah Witton

Demi Adejuyigbe

Pinterest

This is the daddy of all the image-based platforms. Whilst probably the least popular of all the platforms listed here, it probably has the most potential to do harm. Don’t get me wrong, I love Pinterest. It is one of the most easily spaces online and the fact that it is image focused means that there is very little text involved, so it’s an ocean of calm compared to a platform like Twitter. However, it also has what might possibly be the most reactive algorithm of any platform. This is broadly a helpful tool, allowing you to locate the exact material you’re looking for, but it can really double down on any harmful material you put into it. It’s the internet’s worst enabler. In this sense, spring cleaning it is work. I got rid of my fitspo board and replaced it with one more focused on self-care. This didn’t mean getting rid of all my fitness-focused stuff- I still pin specific exercise routines- but I don’t pin #bodygoals stuff now.  A very important part of changing this is being conscientious of what I am choosing to repin. Specifically, I have to ask myself 

“Do I really like this hair/ makeup/ clothing, or do I just want to look like the model?”

If the answer is no, I will ask Pinterest to remove it from my feed. Pinterest also has a zero-tolerance policy for content that encourages eating disorders and self-harm so you can report anything like that. Whilst Pinterest will continue to show you things after you have deleted the boards you can, over time, train it to show you more of the things you want to see. I’ve finally got it to a point where I’m seeing things that make me feel bad far less frequently. 

All of this is work and requires a conscious effort from yourself to remove things that are harmful before they get to you. This system isn’t perfect and you will continue to see garbage some of the time. It is still possible to optimise what you’re seeing in order to feel less anxious and down on yourself. Do keep in mind, that it’s just a small part of your life and that if you are genuinely concerned about your mental health to talk to a professional if that is something you are able to access. Also, this isn’t an alternative to minimising your screentime, which we should probably all try to do a little more. 

Happy new year! 

More like this 

You are doing enough. 

Did I Keep my 2018 Resolutions?

[firesofdainix]

I Learn to Live Half-Alive

the former ultimate tennis pro grieves his existence.

He has little knowledge over his past. He simply forgot about it. But what he never forgets was Danganronpa.

PREVIOUS

He can feel the water seeping at his nose, slowly drowning him. With his natural instinct to fight, he tries, and fails, to get out of the sink. He can hear his handcuffs scratching the sink. Why is he fighting? Didn't he just say he had no more reason to live anymore? Is it his natural instincts? Is it because the water is killing him, suffocating him, drowning him? He can feels someone's hands on him, drowning him. Killing him. Just like he once did to the mafia employee he had killed years ago. Was this karma, because of what he did? Why did the killer target them? Because they're weak, small, and already dead inside? Is that why he was here, sulking about why he didn't have someone in his cubs pad? Why no one was in his supposed motive video. He really doesn't belong here.

He starts to fade from this world he says he hates so much. Is he going to heaven? Or to hell? Maybe the latter. He doesn't belong in heaven. He's just a murderer, that's all. He finally closes his eyes, and his struggling for freedom finally dies. He wonders how hell will punish him for his sins. No, this hell is going to make him suffer for his misdeeds in the real life he has.

He wakes up in a dark, empty, tight space, where he can only move in limited moves. His eyes widen to the venue he's in right now. He hates dark spaces. He hates being locked in a small space. But he keeps calm, even though he's noisy, pounding heartbeat says otherwise. This is... the real world, right? His memories are a bit fuzzy, like, he can't remember what happened the past few days. Though he can remember some details, like him never being in prison, for one. Huh. Never being in prison. That's new. He waits for a few minutes, until the hatch to his so called pod opens. A man with a shirt labelled 'Team Danganronpa Staff' reads.

Danganronpa. Ryoma tries to remember the memory to where he had heard such a name before. Then it clicks. Oh yeah. Yeah. Huh. Danganronpa's the world he had emerged in? The one where they kill teenagers, right? It's a show, right? A high rated show, right? Who would want to watch teenagers murder each other? Then he remembers the many times he has watched the show with his friends. Oh yeah. He's a psychopath too, huh? Watching the people try killing their comrades, then get executed themselves? How inappropriate for younger audiences. And... that's all Ryoma remembers, in actuality.

"Hey, what's the deal with me not remembering anything?", Ryoma asks the staff who helps him up.

"Oh, it's probably because of our new policy", the staff replies.

"What's the policy?" Ryoma could barely talk more than a low whisper, and now they're asking him to stand?

"No breaks while filming. The fans want none stop Danganronpa this year."

"I...see?" Fucking morons. He tries to stand, but then remembers his death. His short legs quiver, and he falls back into the pod. The staff notices this.

"Do you want me to carry you, Mr. Hoshi?", he asks in a polite manner, bowing to him.

Ryoma absolutely hates being carried by others. He hates his short stature, he hates how everyone looks down at him. Maybe that's why he had joined Danganronpa? To tell everyone that he's not a harmless fucking midget, but can be called a murderer as well? He shrugs that thought away. He doesn't remember anything, and he doesn't bother. Maybe not remembering might give him a new life and new identity. And, since he can't walk that well, he just nods to the staff to carry him.

"Dinner will be served shortly", the staff announces as he puts him down on a chair. Ryoma looks around. Looks like a dining hall.

"Sure", Ryoma says. To be honest, he's not that hungry after his death, but he feels so skinny.

"That is a good sign that you want to eat", the staff sighs. "Because you have been stuck there for a week and a half."

Ryoma feels himself sicken after what he said. He was in that... whatever you call it for a week and a half? Why? How long is each episode? Why are they making them do this? Why did they not let them eat, sleep, nor drink in real life? The fans? The ratings? Money? It angers him that he's only been eating virtual food. Ryoma sighs, then looks around. This dining hall seems decent enough. Some people start to enter, and catches him by the eye, then talks to each other.

"The writers are truly pulling it off", one says, sitting on a chair.

"I agree", another says.

Ryoma listens in to their conversation.

"I want to see how they solve the mystery", the first says.

"Adachi, it was horrible, how he had died", the second says, looking at Ryoma with malice hidden in his eyes.

"Eaten by piranhas, what a bad way to go...", the guy, Adachi, says.

Eaten, huh? How long was Ryoma stuck in that pod before he pulls to consciousness. He knows he had been drowned in a sink, in his fictional research lab, but when were piranhas ever involved in his murder case. Unless... He smirks. Oh, Tojo, you've done it again. Talking to Tojo, then letting her kill him... she must already have a plan, since she can't have prepared the murder at nighttime. Punishable.

"I can't wait until tomorrow", Adachi says. "Too bad they only do reruns at nighttime. You know, after nine?"

"But the poor teenagers have to way until their demise", the other says. "But anyway, I can't wait 'til tomorrow for the trial!"

Ryoma stays silent during the whole encounter, and more and more people start to flood in the dining hall, all talking about the death. They do acknowledge Ryoma's presence, but being the insensitive piece of shits that they are, they sit near him, letting him hear what they were saying about his death. Then he feels someone tap his shoulder. He looks up and sees a familiar face, someone he has known in the killing game and his faded memories.

"Amami", Ryoma says. "Weren't you supposed to be dead like, last week?"

Amami chuckles. "Oh, yeah, yeah, but my fucking parents haven't arrived yet."

Ryoma shrugs. "Shame."

"Shame indeed."

From what he can gather from his old memories, Rantaro Amami, the Ultimate Adventurer, one of the survivors of 52, is a legend. He became quite famous when he was just a young child. He doesn't know the details though, but still, he's a legend in Danganronpa. But in Danganronpa 53, he doesn't seem to have that paranoia or fear in 52. All he has was a laidback, mature attitude. Oh, and add being mysterious there.

"Long time no see", Ryoma says.

"I left after a week", Amami replies. He was so careful at not using die in his sentence. "So, how's it holdin'?"

"I don't remember anything, outside from Danganronpa", Ryoma says. "All I fucking remember is my fabricated memories, some shit about Danganronpa, and that's it."

"Lucky you", Amami says, sugarcoating the words.

The cooks are now filing out of the kitchen, giving them all sorts of food. Amami seems to be the first one to dig in, since the others were just talking, not noticing that there was food on the table. Ryoma takes some sushi and rice balls, and starts to eat. He didn't know he was this hungry as he bites to one of the sushi rolls. He looks at Amami's plate. His plate looks like French cuisine, but he doesn't know what kinds of food it is. He notices that Amami takes small bites of his food.

"How's your week in here?", Ryoma asks as he dines.

"Shit", Amami replies casually. "I've been forced to watch the show."

"They're fucking cruel." But, how cruel was he in this life? He was a murderer in Danganronpa, was he cruel in this one too?

"So, how's your first bite of real food?"

Ryoma savors his food's taste, so he doesn't respond until he swallows a portion of his food.

"Delicious."

"Yes, so delicious."

"So, Amami, how did you feel about my death?" Ryoma is curious about how everyone would react to his death.

"Sad", Amami says with a decisive look. "Wasted potential. Infuriating. You know, the works."

"Why do I feel like you're just making an opinion up?"

"I actually don't have an opinion on who dies, to be honest."

"What? Why?"

Amami smiles yet again, but somehow, this was unnerving. "Because, you are all good people, and I shouldn't be biased."

"How... unique." Ryoma finishes his food and sits there, just doing casual talk with Amami.

"I'm making you uncomfortable, aren't I?", Amami sighs, looking and sounding exhausted.

"Huh. Maybe."

"Oh, it's probably because of my mood swings. Whenever I'm not in the mood I go around making people uncomfortable." Amami scratches his head. Ryoma sees scars on his arm, all new. He's cutting himself now? Is that why he wears long sleeved clothes?

"Oh? Have Borderline Personality Disorder?"

Amami shakes her head. "No. The only stuff I think I might have are Depression and PTSD. That's... probably it?"

"You should go talk to a real therapist", Ryoma suggests.

"I have a therapist", Amami says. "and that's me."

"Self therapy?"

"Yeah."

"Isn't that... illegal?"

"If you don't know what mental illnesses are."

"...Fair point."

Ryoma was sent to a bedroom, since his parents are not here yet. Letting him sleep in the place where he kinda died, are they... giving him more trauma or something? Though his past self did get asked for this, got asked to be in the killing game. But why bother changing him? Did they change who he is so he can be accepted by the viewers? To be sympathized with? Because he honestly can't remember who he was before. Was he an asshole? An obsessive fan of Danganronpa? A delinquent? Or was he always like this? Mature, untrusting, suicidal, depressive? Did he go to prison? Or did he live a normal life. The staff says that his memories about his life will return to him in a week or so. So he's stuck with non-existent memories and a bunch of fuzzy ones. Whenever he tries to remember something breaking his memory barrier, his head aches. So he avoids thinking about memories at all.

There was a knock on the door. Ryoma looks at the conveniently placed clock right above his bed. It was a little after ten. So, who could it be? He opens the door to see Amami in front of the door, with a small smile and his hands behind the back.

"...What are you doing here?"

"I just want to give you a little something", Amami says. Then Amami gives him a small pocketknife he was hiding behind his back.

"What do I need this for?", Ryoma asks.

"Oh, nothing", Amami says, still smiling. "But hey, if you're down and sad, why don't you cut yourself to make you feel better?"

Ryoma looks at him with a blank expression, and takes the pocketknife from him. "Thanks... but are you feeling alright?"

Amami seems to go back to normal after that. "Oh... gave you the goosebumps again, huh? Sorry."

"S'all right. Now I'm starting to think you have BPD or something."

"I don't." Amami scowls, then sighs. "I don't know who I am anymore."

"Me too. Looks like we still got long ways to go."

"Will you ever use that?", Amami asks.

Ryoma shrugs. "It depends if I'm not that depressed or a sad sack of shit."

"You were always sad in the game, though."

"Well, I'm going to turn my life around."

Amami scoffs. "Well, good luck with that."

And he walks away, and Ryoma closes the door, looking at the pocketknife he was given. Was he really going to use this? To inflict pain on himself, to see himself flinch in pain, then finally becoming numb to it all. He shrugs. Maybe he's going to use it in the near future.

Just... not today.

NEXT

[pinklemonwitch]

Like if I didn't have to deal with people literally saying "you need to spend the night" to me and basically trapping me here under the influence cuz no one can drive I might be a little happier.

Cuz nobody asked me if I actually wanted to stay the night, nobody even asked if I wanted to come over, everyone just assumed I'd be happy to come whenever the fuck it's convenient for them even tho I have a fucking life too and it's not always fucking convenient for me to drop my whole life all the time just to get bitched at or complained about while I'm dropping my entire life for yall!

I spend a majority of my time dealing with the emotional labor that comes with being with someone who might as well get diagnosed with bipolar disorder, who's actually been diagnosed with anxiety and depression to the point where me visiting family causes him severe stress; so I have been basically single-handedly been dealing with his mental illnesses like a damn therapist, and when I leave the house he calls me a million damn times and leaves a million messages, all while my family is essentially mocking me for not being able to hold my liquor even tho they're the ones who bought it for me; not giving a fuck that I didn't wanna get shit faced but nobody cared enough to be there while I was throwing up, everyone just wanted to rush me out of the only place I felt comfortable puking in.

I'm gonna fucking walk home in the morning cuz everyone genuinely pissed me off that much to where if I don't get the alone time I'm gonna fucking go off on someone

You don't just peer pressure people into inebriating themselves if you're not gonna fucking take care of them when they're inebriated, wtf. I'm a new drinker, new to being 21, why do I have to explain to anyone that I can't always hold my liquor the best so maybe don't fucking try to rush me while I'm puking my damn brains out in the bathroom.

The point is nobody ever actually asks me what I fucking want, everyone says they were getting drunk today to celebrate my birthday but if anyone actually cared about my birthday instead of coming up and getting me drunk maybe they'd come to my boyfriend's family's house, make a fucking effort to meet and get along with his family, and give me a goddamn pizza, and that would've been enough for me.

But noooo, everyone has to assume I want some kinda party cuz it's my 21st even tho anyone who's ever fucking talked to me knows I don't drink in public and I'd rather drink alone to avoid embarrassment. Everyone has to assume that because it was mentioned that I wanted to stay the night, everyone assumes they can just lay their fucking claim to me as if I'm a damn divorced child and it's a custody battle even tho I'm a fucking grown adult with my own needs and aspirations, but nobody gives enough of an actual fuck to help me with my actual needs and aspirations.

But oh everyone has something to fucking say tho!

My boyfriend thinks I don't prioritize him, my aunt thinks I have fucking body dysmorphia and that I have an eating disorder cuz of it, my mom just straight up didn't care that I was wasted off my ass and throwing up cuz she just wanted me out of her bathroom and she just claimed my time without asking me, everyone has some fucking stupid bullshit opinion about me and how I act even tho literally all I have done for the past week is just LITERALLY REACT to shit like a damn plant reacting to sunlight. I didn't make any fucking executive decision to do anything on my own damn birthday week cuz everyone else decided how they felt on my birthday was more important than how I felt on my birthday, and everyone can go literally fuck themselves if they're upset with me at this point cuz I wouldn't be in these situations if other people didn't constantly try to control my damn life.

Literally stop trying to control everything I do and maybe we can fucking talk about my behavior but until then stfu cuz I literally don't do anything except react slightly to different scenarios put in front of me by everyone else!!!!!!

[altruistic-meme]

alright my dudes, this post is going to go deep. in it, I'm going to talk about some rather triggering content. under the cut I'm going to tell you about my personal experiences with the mental illnesses I have and just basically try and give you an understanding as to why I sometimes act the way I do. so if you care to read, and reading won't in any way negatively affect you, then click that read more. if not, feel free to scroll on, no hard feelings. sometimes you aren't feeling up to reading dark shit and I can respect that, I get that way too. now, with minimal further preamble, the undercut and what lies beneath...

(potentially triggering content includes: discussion of depression and anxiety and  mentions of self-harm and suicide.)

well hello there, and welcome to the undercut. I'm about to take you on a journey through the messed up part of my mind. I'm gonna try and keep this short and to the point mostly.

A QUICK THING; it's probably going to be very incoherent, and if you are confused about something or would like more information about something, do feel free to visit my inbox or messages and ask! a lot of people are very uncomfortable talking about this stuff and lbr, I kinda am too, but I'm making an effort to speak up more about it, and to reach out a hand to those who need it, as I never really had one put forth for me. so do not be shy to ask about anything, that's what this post is about, hm?

let's just jump right into this, shall we?

HERE WE GO; I HAVE AN ANXIETY DISORDER AND MILD-SEVERE DEPRESSION.

neither of which are fun, lemme tell ya. (and I am totally in awe of people who have either or BOTH and are out there, working and being an adult in general like damn. u strong. go u.)

a disclaimer before I continue: this post is about MY PERSONAL experiences with these illnesses. this is NOT a post about the general symptoms of these illnesses. if you relate to anything I say in this post, I'm v v sorry that you are going through this, bc it's hell, not gonna lie. anywho, I had better see 0 bullshit about "oh, you don't have x bc you don't do/feel blah blah blah" not everyone goes through the same stuff, dipshit.

moving on.

symptoms yayyyy;

Anxiety: -I am extremely socially anxious. -this means going up to the counter to ask for a take-out container for leftover food at a restaurant? u m no. -talking to strangers? no. -it is also really hard for me to talk to little kids or older folks. -and then there is also; feeling anxious (wow) -having 209745 worst-case scenario's go through my head. -trying to sleep and instead having my brain interrupt and tell me "hey ya know what's cool? thinking about how you could mess up x" -actually that happens a lot. -a general thought process for me; "am i good enough? do I look okay? do I act like an idiot? am I charming or stupid? am I cool or a know-it-all? I talk about myself too much. what else can I talk about? them, talk about them. but that doesn't work either. I don't know what to say." -not fun. -and that is just what came immediately to mind. there are lots and lots of different variations. -don't even get me started on how doing my school makes me feel. -and a metric fuckton of second-guessing. -no panic attacks yet but I have felt like I was close to having one often.

Depression: -just. suicidal thoughts. let that sink in a minute. -also thoughts of self-harm. -like there are days where looking at a knife will make me want to cut and I have to hold knives on a daily basis pretty much so not fun. -can we see that self-deprecation?? yeah we can. -constantly wondering if my family loves me. -don't even get me started on my friends. -hiding in my room bc it's literally the only place where I feel kinda safe from myself -except for when I remember that I have scissors in here. -enjoying things I used to love whom?? -times where I have to take a minute to psych myself up for little tasks like carrying my dishes to the sink. -i n s o m n i a. all over. -some days I lose all will to eat, or just my appetite as a whole. -motivation?? don't know her. lack of motivation is the only one here.

ah, yeah, let's stop there for now.

another interrupty thingy!!: bc I'm gonna go out on a limb here and assume at least some of my friends will read this, there are two things to assure you of; YES I know you love me but depressions goggles make it hard to remember that sometimes. and PLEASE don't freak out over the first 3 items on the depression symptom list I'm fine. I will explain in just a sec.

okie? okie.

so now ya know! not fun! kinda terrifying actually!

"oh, well, Ac, why don't you just try sleeping more? or going outside more? or drinking water? or eating regularly? doing yoga?"

all very good suggestions. yes, they CAN help improve mood, but at the point I am at, they aren't going to help much.

and for the sleep part, lemme tell you, I KNOW FULL WELL that I should sleep more. but guess what? I can't. like, I can. not. sleep. I want to sleep. I enjoy sleeping, I enjoy being fully awake during the day and I enjoy not feeling and looking like a fucking zombie. but you know what? Anxiety and Depression by themselves usually make it harder for people to sleep. combined? I'm fucked. sometimes, yes, I get a regular amount of sleep. but also sometimes I don't. I'm not yet sure what it is that triggers me into either cycle, but they can last from two months to four days.

and OK. I get that you have your ways of making yourself sleep. but you don't understand. I have had to sit through the same speech from my mother about "just picture a blank wall" 6. TIMES. your methods are yours, and while I'm very glad they work for you, it is highly unlikely they will work for me.

okay now, if you got worried when you saw the first 3 symptoms under Depression: I really do appreciate your concern, and I am touched that you care. I'm not going to say it's ok bc of course it's not, it's very not ok, but it is something that I am and have been working on. the first time most of these thoughts hit and hit hard was November 2017, and immediately after I calmed down from them I decided that I had to talk to my mum about going to therapy.

this started a kinda long process including telling my gf, my friend, and my sister before telling my mum. and then of course when I did tell her in December we weren't able to actually try and setup an appointment until January due to being out of insurance. and ofc after that we find out that the recommendation I had gotten the previous year for anxiety was expired and this resulted in me having to go back to the doctor, then to the ER bc that was the only way to get their on-hand therapist to come that day, and then I had to spend 2 hours there bc they were v v concerned and I was almost admitted for a few days bc of my thoughts.

and yeah, it was a mess.

but I do now have a therapist who I've been seeing for a few weeks, and we have a safety plan in place, and he was v v impressed with my knowledge on coping mechanisms and just my symptoms as a general.

random story: when I was maybe 14 I had already self-diagnosed that I had some sort of Anxiety disorder, and I mentioned it out loud in front of my two sisters and one, who had had panic attacks that had sent her to the ER before, was like ah, yeah. and the other one, who as far as I know STILL doesn't have an anxiety disorder let alone had one back then, said basically "no you don't. god. like, I believe that you have anxiety bc everyone does but you don't have REALY anxiety" which is, ya know, why she didn't know why I was going to therapy until my mum told her several weeks in (and even then idk if she evens knows the full reason, but she hasn't asked me so fuck that)

anyway, i'mma try and wrap this up now!

tl;dr, basically; I have Anxiety and Depression. I have had suicidal thoughts (in the past and recently) but I am working to get rid of them, and until such a time occurs, I do have a plan for if they show up that will result in me being protected and safe. I have coping mechanisms and I use them whenever I feel like I need to, and sometimes when I don't simply bc I enjoy them. I'm currently in once a week therapy with someone who let's me talk and laughs with me when I crack a joke and listens to my stances on issues. I know that you have your methods for things, and I'm very glad they work for you, but do NOT try and force them on me.

I hope you now understand a little bit more about me and why I sometimes react to things the way I do.

have a great day, month, year, life.

~Ac

[fairycosmos]

I have social anxiety, depression, ptsd, borderline personality disorder, a Vicodin addiction, suicidal, eating disorder... and now I can add raped to that list. I can't keep living.

you can. that’s the thing. you can keep living. even if it feels like you’re at the end of your rope, you’d be surprised by what you can deal with if you just give yourself a chance. i know it just seems like one thing piling up on top of another, but you can work through it all. you can. you don’t have to have it all figured out right now. all of the things you’re dealing with, all of the things that have happened are not down to you. please listen to me, just level with me for a minute. i’m so so sorry that you’ve had to go through all of that. there’s no excuse for it, no justification or reason behind it. you didn’t deserve to go through any of that shit. and you haven’t been treated the way you should have been treated, okay? it wasn’t your fault, and it’s not right and again, i’m so fucking sorry because i have no idea how hard this must be for you. i won’t even try to understand your pain, but i know that you’re strong enough to get from one minute to the next. and right now, that’s seriously all you need to do. idk the details of your situation, but if you’re able to i’d really urge you to tell somebody what’s happened to you. whether it’s a parent, a sibling, or the police. you’ve done nothing wrong, and you shouldn’t have to stay quiet about it. this isn’t something you need to hide, though i understand that it’s probably really difficult to talk about. but whoever did this to you shouldn’t get away with it. you deserve justice and peace of mind. i know that telling someone might feel like a bit much right now, and of course the choice is yours. however you want to deal with this, it’s okay. as long as you try to stop fighting yourself, okay? please please allow yourself to get the help and care that you need. you don’t have to go through this alone. i know it sounds like empty words right now, but it’s not. it’s just the truth. you’re not alone.

you are so much more than your mental illnesses. you are so much more than what you’ve been through. yes, it’s a part of you. but it hasn’t consumed you, even if right now it feels like it has. there are a lot of people that can relate to what you’re dealing with. there are so many people that have gotten passed what you’ve been through because they made their own mental health and safety a priority. i know it’s difficult, i know. but i fucking promise that it’s not always going to feel this intense, it’s not always going to feel so bad. seriously, all you need to do is make the first step and help yourself in any way that you can. being raped is a terrible, traumatic thing and it’s okay to need help in order to overcome it. you can’t control what other people do to you. you can’t control what has happened to you. but you can control how you react to it, and you can choose where you go from here. there are a lot of ways to get help, there are real professionals out there that can and will get you through this if you just ask them to. you genuinely have more options than you realize. if you haven’t talked to a doctor or therapist, please please do. or even just speak to any mental health group/organization in your area. they can offer guidance, coping mechanisms, medication if necessary. they can offer you a way forward, even if it all seems so hard right now. i know it’s overwhelming, i get that. it might feel like you don’t even have the energy to move right now, to get through one second to the next. but you will. just please believe me when i say that you are a good person, you deserve help and love and you don’t have to believe everything that your brain is telling you. keep in mind that you suffer from mental illness, which really does twist your perception of everything into some negative and dark even if it’s not, you know? you’re not always going to feel the way you do right now, lovely. just take it one step at a time and you’re going to be okay. check out these links while you decide what you to do next and how to give yourself what you need -

https://www.helpguide.org/articles/ptsd-trauma/recovering-from-rape-and-sexual-trauma.htm

https://dealingwithrape.com/

http://www.teenvogue.com/story/sexual-assault-help

http://www.anxietycoach.com/anxietysymptoms.html

https://www.eatingdisorderhope.com/recovery/self-help-tools-skills-tips

http://imwiththeclouds.tumblr.com/post/38347319557/100-reasons-to-why-you-shouldnt-commit-suicide

https://psychcentral.com/lib/five-beginning-steps-for-dealing-with-trauma/

https://themighty.com/2017/01/survivor-tips-bpd-borderline-personality-disorder/

please, please promise me that you’ll stay alive. for yourself, and for those who love you. it’s going to be okay. one day at a time. one minute a time. even one second at a time, that’s all you need to get through now. you’re so much fuckin stronger than you realize,  you know? i really mean that from the bottom of my heart. if you stick around, you aren’t going to regret it. it’ll be so fucking worth it. you deserve to be happy, you deserve love and warmth and light and you’ll find all of that if you allow yourself to heal, if you do what you need to do and give yourself the tools you need to recover. i really genuinely hope that you find it in you to keep going. i care, and a lot of other people do too. i’m seriously always here if you ever need to talk, and if you’re ever thinking about doing something stupid then you can ALWAYS message me and i’ll listen and i’ll help you. like i said, you’re not alone. just check out those links and let yourself breathe for a few days. talk to someone whenever you feel ready. again, whatever you want/need - it’s okay. i hope your pain eases soon. whatever happens, every feeling you have is just temporary. you’ll make it if you just try, okay? stay strong. 

[medellia-of-the-vast-oceans]

I’d like for everyone who follows me for the reason that they know me or those I don’t know but reads my horrible personal posts anyway to read this actually. This hit me on my way home when I got the first chance to relax since years. I recently came home from my job. It was the last day for the summer. 3 weeks off and then I’m back again. By then the kids are back in school and everything will be back to normal. So that’s a huge relief. Yet, it made me think about my current life situation. Now it’s time to sit down and sort out my life.

My life has been strange. So just a quick recap on my life, I was born into a dysfunctional family with a father who was still in deep pain for losing custody to his first born daughter to a crazy mentally ill woman and somwhat realising his son was a complete maniac. He was left with my brother who was showing signs pretty early on his lack of emotions and caring for others. He choose to ignore it and still is cause it’s too painful for him to realise. Then we have my mum who was his saviour and realised very quickly something was wrong with my brother, very wrong and she tried to get help for him but was denied. My brother is a very very manipulative, violent and mean person. And as a kid, he scared the shit out of me. He enjoyed that. He physically abused me and might perhaps be the reason to why I was diagnosed with severe tinnitus as a kid. He used to hold me and scream into my ears for example. My parents are two lovely parents but their relationship was far from perfect due to my dad ignoring all of this while my mum tried to fight for him to get the help he needed. It was chaos at home 24/7 since my brother did everything he could to destroy and hurt us. My mum let out all the frustration and anger on me. She was mean. My dad was in the background doing nothing. He just watched me getting screamed at and forced into cleaning my room three times in a day because if mum found a dirty spot somewhere, I had to redo it all for example. As a 8 year old kid, I just didn’t understand. I remember once when I saw a mum hugging my friend and I was so jealous. Why doesn’t my mum do that?

I think that is the most important part and reason to the saddness in my life. For so many years I felt so unloved, like a disappointment, a weirdo because I grew up way too early due to this. I was never like other kids. I had no friends. I was bullied. I developed eating disorders as an 11 year old when my mum said that I won’t get any friends if I’m overweight. Either way, when I turned 19 and graduted school everything came as a shock to me. The adult life. I didn’t know how to react and I was terrified but eventually I went to a psychiatrist and that was the start of my recovery. Back then I was a loner, I hated people, I hated myself. I didn’t care in the slightest what i looked like because I didn’t want to draw any attention to me. I was a disgusting person who nobody wanted. Turned out I was depressed, I have ADD and had developed BPD from my upbringing. I was never taught what emotions are or how to handle them. The only feeling I could feel was fear. Since the age of 19 I’ve been working on myself constantly to learn stuff that my parents never taught me. And when I look at myself today, I can barely believe it. I thought I was too broken to fix. You could meet me today and see no signs of my past. But as you know, a lot of things have happened lately and it’s just been way too much. I’ve been slipping into old patterns again of feeling unloved and unwanted. I’ve been working hard on being mindful in all of this that it’s temporary but it’s been hard when I keep getting things thrown at me all the time.

But this three weeks will be my weeks, my weeks to sort it all out and accept what happened to me this year. It’s something about when your dad, best friend and the one you might love screws you over. Not to mention my body who completely gave up on me as well. That combo of betrayals fuck you up and I won’t blame myself for falling back into old patterns. In the middle of this I got my mum back who’s been the most supportive and loving mum I could ever wish for which has been a shock to me. I never thought that would happen ever. And now it’s time to finally find an acceptance for what happened and move on. I was asked today to come over to my boss’s place for dinner because he said he really like talking to me. Of course I will but then something hit me. These are the people I should focus on instead of those who hurt me. Those who like me and cares for me instead. It’s time to build up that confidence in that… I’ve just been an unlucky person. From now on I’ll surround myself with those who loves me and appreciates me. And give them the love and appreciation back. The past is the past. It’s time to build up the strength, the motivation to move on to the next chapter in life. It’s time to put an end to the misery and the pain people have caused me. Now I just want to surround myself with love, care and hope. Maybe now you'll have a better understanding for me and those post

[shaneonyuh]

GET IN MENTAL SHAPE

This might come off as mean and probably superficial, but you people need to learn to be mentally strong, just like you train your muscles you eat right and work right, and your heart rate goes from terrible to ok to excellent, maybe it's the jungle law and maybe it is really about survival for the fittest, I know mental illnesses and depression are catchy and highly affective, i know so well how they can easily touch and destroy anyone, and I know how I learned the fucking Hard way, I don't compare myself to others but I know shit didn't really have to happen so intensely, sometimes I'm like, Fuck just give me a break here. and I know how books, art work, and movies these days, especially social media makes a big deal out of it, and probably that darkness can be attractive at some point, You see a picture of a cute girl or guy soaking in drugs and cigarettes and wanting to die and the characters of depressive teens analyzing their lives. Depression does generate a smart sense of observation in many cases, intelligence and commonly, creativity, but that's the point of low levels we experience, the shift from the darkness to the enlightenment, from the silence, to words, to actions. all these disorders are real and strong, but don't give in to them, the media promotes help and promotes stories and but it rarely promotes healthy mindsets, it rarely works on showing strength or how to gain it, they are creating a generation of pussies who are affected and distraught by every.single.thing. Yes, people are assholes and yes life isn't fucking fair and yes many parents can damage you and yes you can't have all you want, but you really don't need most of the things you think you want. Get the fuck up and don't stop fighting, you have two choices, you either fall asleep in the rabbit hole and let life, people, society, money problems, physique, issues, politics, THE PAST, whatever that stresses you pile more and more dust on you until your own body and mind become your grave. Or you dig your way up and become a warrior, Stop bitching and crying and whining about every situation, stop complaining how life isn't being a scoop of icecream to you, stop looking at your past every night thinking what you should've and would've done and stop letting those ''memories" lock you down there. You gotta move, start by getting up, then once you get the hang of it, you'll eventually learn to walk, then to run, learn to dust yourself up and learn, simply learn. Get a pen and paper and write down your most physical, visible obvious problems and FIGURE THEM OUT, there's a solution for everything. Get to know yourself on the deepest level possible and face yourself, don't escape and don't try to distract yourself from the damage and the mistake, analyze, set out and determin. EDUCATE yourself, some of your feelings might be relevant, and science breaks it down to ya, -Some of them are actually Chemical reactions, Hormones jumping up and down- Yes since you're a master of depression you might find this super offensive, and so did I, When I told people I'm suffering from something my family usually links my feelings to my lack of spirituality and investment in religion, ''friends'' related my problems to however direction fits them best, so will your employer, therapist, and whoever you tell your story to, they will see it through their own eyes and neglect how you feel about it, Not because people are dicks by nature, -although to an extent they are- projection is something our minds uses in every field, so it's not personal it's just human nature, when I said EDUCATE yourself I didn't mean just pick up a biology book, but really get to know yourself and have some time with yourself, know the reason behind every why and how, This is what spiritual boohoos call ''unlocking your subconscious mind and whatever" We don't have to meditate in the desert for years or go vegan, You have to study yourself, when you do that, many things in life will become so clear you'll start laughing at your own misery and former ignorance. FIND AND IDENTIFY what makes you so fucking miserable or what makes you happy even small things, little things, things you've called irrelevant, and base your life on that. Go back to your roots, to the true ultimate you, the 5 year old or 4 year old version of yourself before life, society and the media started to screw you over, that's you, that's the clean slate, and rebuild around it, when you dig deep into your beginnings you'll find yourself in the most authentic ways, from Midschool to highschool to college I always came up with new career ideas or just ideas of who i wanna be in the future, and that really scewed me up, at 19/18 You start really stressing out about your place in life and in the world, you have to find something in between, that combines passion and brings bread to the table, right? wrong. That's what they told us, so we can invest our macroscopic time on earth in yeeeeeears of pointless education, so we can soak and sink in debt and plug into the system, Find your path man, that's all i'm saying, The 3 and 4 year old me had a passion for acting, and wanted to be an actor, growing up i was ashamed to share that or even stick to it or take it seriously afraid of how people would react and afraid i wouldn't make it, I didn't even try. But once you commit yourself to something and "wherever you go you go with all of your heart and soul'' that thing you're working on will be BOUND to work out. Surround yourself with people you wanna be like, not people who'll drag you down. Don't look down on those scars because of how ugly they made your skin look, but be grateful because that skin got harshened. there are two ways to deal with our mortality, you either fight, or flee. I usually say this only to the people I care about, and in my entire life i've cared about the limited amount of 5 or 3 people. But you never know who needs the lessons you've learned. Get strong people, get in mental shape. Everything that you read or see and that is obvious is just a creation of a system and every system has its implications, they say ''talk about your problems" communication, sharing, therapy, etc etc etc everything they talk about so openly is part of their system, they tell us about illnesses and epidemics and they tell us it's ok to have them and offer us elusive cures, the truth is they don't people who stand out, and they're scared of people who can change the world because they rule the world, be an alpha and don't fall for their sweet schemes, don't let them treat you like a victim and don't fall for fake sympathy. You are part of a glorious race our ancestors had survived tough natural conditions, if a man made it through the wilderness and ended up engniting fire, and scratching on cave walls and haunting giant animals, you can overcome whatever the fuck you're against. These days they make everything so easily and so available so they keep you in a consumer chain always wanting more, but early humans had to either haunt or die, they had to build shelter or die, they had to make fire or die, all this mordern comfort has butchered our survival instinct, and little by little it's killing our brains and minds. So you can do it, whatever it is you can do it, its in your DNA.

[transgengars]

Also 1-53

hoyl fucking shit nuggetsill put this below the cut they got all miss numbered too bc i was too lazy to answer all of themthis is for Mick

What is your OC’s favorite color?Red

Does your OC collect anything? What do they collect?Comics, mostly the Punisher. He also likes action figures

What kind of things is your OC allergic to?Bees

What kind of clothing does your OC wear?Basically anything, from black jeans/tshirt/boots to a dress and heels

What element would your OC be?Fire

What is your OC’s theme song? Same Damn Life - Seether

Do you have a faceclaim / voiceclaim for your OC?I have several FC’s kind of jumbled together, but none of them look super like him so I’m not gonna bother to list them... His voice claim is MrKravin, a wonderful youtuber who deserves everything

What deadly sin would best represent your OC?a mix of lust and wrath

What are your OC’s hobbies?He loves drawing, working on his motorcycle, playing guitar, reading comics, playing games.. a lot of shit

How patient is your OC? How hot-headed are they?He has next to no patience and is very hot headed

What is your OC’s gender / sexuality / race / species / etc.?He’s a cisman but he’s pansexual. He is half Filipino and half Kiwi

What foods does your OC like to eat? What are their least favorite foods?His favorite foods are things like chicken noodle soup and bacon cheeseburgers. He’ll eat like, anything. He hates seafood though

If your OC could have any pet, what would they choose? Why?A dog bc he loves dogs a lot they’re so pure

What does your OC smell like? A weird combo of cigarettes, aftershave, and oil

How do they make a living? What kind of job do they want / not want? What is their dream job? What do they think of their current job?In his normal universe, he’s a mercenary, though he never really wanted to be in that career track, he enjoys it. He always wanted to be a tattoo artist, or a paramedic

What are your OC’s greatest fears? Weaknesses? Strengths?He is absolutely terrified of needles and hates going to the doctor, and is also terrified of bees. He has claustrophobia. He’s very prone to mood swings and thus is unstable, though he is very good at scaring a point into someone

What kind of music do they listen to? Do they have a favorite song?He listens to a lot of rock and metal. His favorite would probably be something by Volbeat

What personal problems/issues do they have? Pet peeves?He has depression, anxiety, and borderline personality disorder. He hates it when people tap on things, it makes him want to kill them

What is their outlook on life? What is their philosophy / what do they think in general about living?He fucking hates being alive

What inspired you to create them / how did you create them? Were they originally a fancharacter? What was their personality / design like when you first made them?He was originally a TF2 Sniper based off of Christian Brutal Sniper, but now he’s. Hardly even a sniper, he’s not really cut out for that kind of mercenary

What kind of childhood did your character have?Like, the worst possible. His father was an alcoholic and it got worse when he lost his job, and started taking out his anger on Mick. Mick started self harming at a young age, and the physical and mental abuse from his parents left him really fucked up

What kind of nervous habits do they have? Do they stim? Do they have any kinds of addictions?He shakes his leg a lot, and fiddles with his rings. When he was 24-25 he was addicted to cocaine, and he’s been addicted to cigarettes for practically his whole life

If they could have one thing in the world, what would it be?Someone who actually gave a shit about him and didn’t mind dealing with his various problems bc he cant even deal with them by himself

Would they ever kill someone? What would someone have to do to push them to kill someone? If they would kill someone, why? he’s. he’s a mercenary

How is your character’s imagination? Daydreaming a lot? Worried most of the time? Living in memories?He’s often stuck in bad memories and bad thoughts about himself

What does your character want most? What do they need really badly, compulsively? What are they willing to do, to sacrifice, to obtain?He honestly wants to like kill himself all the fucking time

What is in your characters refrigerator right now? On their bedroom floor? Nightstand? Garbage can?fridge: beer, root beer, some lunchables probably. frozen dinners. floor: clothes, random articles thrown there and hes too depressed to clean it.

Your character is getting ready for a night out. Where are they going? What do they wear? Who will they be with?He honestly likes to dress in drag sometimes. He likes wearing dresses and putting on makeup, though he also likes wearing button ups and clip on bowties because he doesn’t know how to tie a tie (and also wears makeup then too)

What does your character do when they’re angry? Why?He screams, yells, slams things, breaks things... he’s a violent angry person, you can thank his dad for that

Does your character have any scars? Where did they get them from? Many, everywhere, from mercenary work. The most prominent he has are the ladder scars on both forearms and thighs

If your character was given a slice of pineapple pizza and they HAD to eat it (or something bad would happen), how would they react? Do they even LIKE pineapple pizza?HE FUCKING LOVES PINEAPPLE ON PIZZA

Your character is given a voodoo doll of themself. What do they do with it? Do they see if it actually works?He stabs the shit out of it with a needle

Can your character draw? What do they like to draw? Do they doodle?He loves drawing, and draws often gorey things, as well as things like motorcycles. and himself dying

What were their parents like? How has that affected how they are as an adult?They were horrible, his father physically and mentally abusive; his mother typically turned a blind eye

Does your character like candy? Do they get sugar rushes? What are they like when they get a rush?He’s an absolute slut for nerds

If your character was presented with imminent and unavoidable death/fatality, how would they react? Would they try to avoid death anyways? Would they try to make their last days count? He probably wouldn’t care