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becausegoodheroesdeservekidneys · 2 days ago

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Looks like I haven't. Okay, well, let's see. I'll just give highlights, but it'll be long, so let's do a readmore.

So, in mid-2022, I dared to age past about 35 and therefore started withering bodily. Of course, this is partly my fault, because I do not get enough exercise, but also (shakes fist at uncaring universe, pulls muscle in fist) Life Hates Me

So, I started getting muscle pain between the shoulder blades. In my case, this is actually one of those annoying to-avoid-one-disability-you-created-another things, because I've had problems with my lower back since I was in my mid-20s thanks to never using proper lumbar support. Therefore, my standard spot to be in my living room became the sofa that stretches away from the TV, because then I could lie on the sofa and prop my head up on the arm to watch, but that means I spent several years as a recreational candy cane and NOW HERE WE ARE. I remember desperately trying to find a massage therapist that could see me that day before I went away to Edinburgh in August that year, and there was nowhere at all available. I had to get one in Edinburgh when I arrived, which was lovely, but also about £20 more expensive, because Edinburgh.

And then! In November! Of 2022!

I must have wished really hard. Because around the corner from my house - so close I could forward roll that distance, if it weren't for, you know (gestures at body, pulls muscle in arm)... a massage parlour opened.

Except. Here's the thing.

It had a name like "Swansea Oriental Massage" or "Thai Lotus Massage" or what have you (real name not given for privacy reasons.) The kind of name that makes you go "Ah. An independent business, likely staffed by workers fresh from abroad, with a name that implies exotic women to a certain type of client. This may be entirely what it claims, but it definitely Fits a Profile."

And to be clear, I have no issues at all with it being a brothel! I truly, genuinely don't. But for obvious reasons, I do want to know if I'm booking a session with a masseuse or a sex worker, because those are very different types of happy endings.

So Steff and I tried looking them up, which became almost a game in itself. We were like "Right. It has a legitimate-looking website that offers three different types of massage: Swedish, Chinese and deep tissue, complete with a disclaimer that deep tissue is not recommended unless you have good pain tolerance. A brothel would probably use more euphemisms, right? Intimate massage, full personal, that sort of thing. But maybe those are euphemisms?"

And then we'd be like "We have found a review. It says 'Very relaxing, beautiful girl.' That could either be a clumsily worded review from a gross orientalist marvelling about the massage, or it could be a subtle nod to them being sex workers."

And we went back and forth for weeks, until in the end I was like, no, enough. I am in pain. There must be someone, in any brothel, who can give a genuine massage - if you hide behind the phrase 'massage parlour', you MUST get people turning up occasionally looking for a back, neck and shoulders. It's the seamstress/needlewoman thing in Pratchett. They must be able to go 'Tracy, this one's for you.' That's who I need. I need Tracy. I need to be able to enter and go "Trace, what it is, it's my neck - no, no, Trace, leave your clothes on. Or, don't, I don't know your process. At this point I don't care. You know what? You do you. Mash my neck, don't worry about the happy ending."

(Well, unless it's reasonably priced as an add-on. I'm bisexual and I love a bargain.)

So one particularly painful day I thought fuck it, and I rang to book.

It did not clear anything up.

"Hello!" I said, when the lovely woman on the phone answered. In the interests of avoiding embarrassment on all sides, I decided to be Very Clear. "I currently have pain in my neck and shoulders, so I'm after a massage."

"Of course!" said the nice lady. "When would you like?"

"Tonight?" I asked. "About seven? If you can fit me -"

"Of course!" she beamed. "We will see you at seven!"

And she hung up. That was it. She did not take my name, or anything further; there was no indication as to how I would make sure I could, you know, actually claim the appointment on arrival. That was it.

"Hmm," I thought.

And then the phone rang. I picked up.

"I forgot to ask!" said the woman. "Do you want a male or a female?"

This, I thought, could still very much go either way.

"Well," I said. "I don't mind. As it's for getting knots out, I suppose -"

"Ah!" she said delightedly. "A male! See you later!"

And she hung up again.

"Hmm," I thought.

And so it was that I went to the massage parlour that evening, still none the wiser, waved off by my husband telling me to take the happy ending if it's offered, because he didn't mind at all and didn't want me to feel unsatisfied. This was very kind, but also qualifies for a "He's a little confused but he's got the spirit" meme, because I cannot tell you how little I was thinking about sex and how much I was thinking about the Gordian situation in my trapezoids and the way it was making me move like a T-rex.

Anyway. I was met by a lovely man who took me to a private room, gave me a towel, and told me to call him in once I was undressed and settled on the bed. This I duly did.

And then, what followed ended up being an hour and a quarter of the best massage I have ever had in my entire fucking LIFE.

I paid for an hour, to be clear. But this guy put his hands on my shoulders, frowned, said "Hmm," and then proceeded to work me over like I was meat for a tenderiser. It wasn't sexual. I just ceased being a person in his eyes. I was just muscles to him. Flesh to sculpt. I became a personal challenge. I watched as he passed into a state of intensive hyperfocus, time slipping away from us. He was like a fucking truffle pig after those knots, Tumblrs. He found every one. I could literally hear them clicking as he pressed them.

It was also, and I cannot stress this enough, the closest I have ever come to achieving enlightenment. There were points where I thought I was no longer in residence. I think I purred.

Eventually, he remembered the time, and left so I could get dressed. Then he sat me down in a chair and spent a final bonus ten minutes on my neck and shoulders, during which we chatted. His UK name is Chris (it's not, but both his real UK and Chinese names are here redacted for obvious privacy reasons), and he told me all about how he wanted to be an architect, and how his parents were hoping he would go back to China but he likes Wales and wants to stay, and which is the best Cantonese restaurant in Swansea. It was great. Transcendent experience. I walked out pain-free for the first time in months. He told me to drink water because it would remove the toxins the massage might have unleashed, and I thought that is not true, Chris, but I will do it for you.

I got home. "It's not a brothel!" I told my waiting husband and friends. "It's a legitimate massage parlour!"

"Hurrah!" they all said. "Perhaps we should get massages too."

And so, I went weekly. One time he had to reschedule, and so I received a message saying "Hello, this is Chris the massage boy", which is the most endearing sentence anyone has ever said to me, just absolutely delightful. Such a nice guy.

And then, one day, Steff thought maybe he'd go and get a massage.

And; well.

It turns out, Tumblrs, I had drawn a conclusion from too few datapoints; it turns out, Tumblrs, if you are male, in addition to the Swedish/Chinese/deep tissue options, you also get to order off the Forbidden Menu.

I had been ushered into a room where I was given a towel, and Chris would leave and only return once I was under the towel on the bed, so that he never saw a thing. But the first major difference we discovered was that, when Steff arrived, he was taken to a room and the woman who took him in then watched him expectantly until he stripped naked in front of her.

He did so, and got on the bed. She said, "Do you want two hands? Four hands? I can bring someone in."

"Oh," said Steff. "Um. Just a massage, please."

She stared at him.

"But," she said. "You don't want...?"

She mimed, very graphically, the act of wanking him off.

"No thanks," said Steff, voice getting higher.

"No??" she said, dumbstruck.

"Just a massage, please!" squeaked Steff.

They stared at each other.

"Okay," she said after a moment. "Okay."

She gave him the massage. It was very good. He's been back a few times. He's offered the menu every time. Every time, they are baffled by his refusal.

And then tragedy struck after almost a year - Chris the massage boy became Chris the no-longer-massage boy and moved away to Cardiff. Devastating. Horrifying. I was inconsolable for months. Why do bad things happen to good people.

Which meant I started seeing the other workers there. I don't think I've ever seen the same one twice, so immediately, there's an issue of never getting to a point with anyone where they know how much pressure I like/can take or anything like that; but also, every damn one of them has been a waif of a girl I could bench press with one hand with no ability to do a proper deep tissue massage.

Mostly, this has not been a problem. They do very nice massages regardless, though it turns out they really do just wait for you to get naked in front of them, and Chris was very much an outlier in that regard. But a few months back I did get one who checked the file they apparently had on me, and got out her language translation app on her phone, and spoke into it. In English it read, "You want me to go hard? Deep?"

"Well," I said. "Just on my back, if possible?"

Her phone translated what I said into Chinese, for her to read. She nodded, and said something back, and held up the phone.

"My me is very small," it read. "But I will try."

And then what she did, Tumblrs, was channel every ounce of rage and hatred and inter-generational trauma for the British that she possessed in her heart straight into into her hands and, by extension, my me. Have you ever seen someone, like, scrub at a bloodstain that won't come out, and is going to send them to prison? Ever seen someone scrub so hard and so fast and so desperately that they start grating off their own fingertips, and yet they just keep scrubbing? Ever seen someone scrub like their life might literally be depending on it?

How I still have skin baffles me. I'm astonished she didn't buff off every mole on my back. She fucking pummelled me. And the worst part was, she didn't let up once she moved away from my back and down my legs, and I couldn't communicate that she was now going far too hard, because she didn't speak English and her magic phone app was put away, and also I'm a wimp who never tells tradespeople when I'm unhappy. It was an endurance session. I paid her £30 for it, and thanked her once she was done.

Anyway. All this brings me to today.

So I managed to jar my back by falling off a Ninja Warrior cheese-shaped board just before New Year, which, naturally, jarred right between my shoulder blades. Super painful, now passed, but the stiffness has remained and seems reluctant to leave; so, I thought, it's massage time.

And

Well

I think that was the worst massage I've ever had from that brothel.

Not bad as in painful! It was not bad as in "This is actively painful." But it has never been clearer that this girl was a sex worker cosplaying as a massage therapist, and was sort of guessing at what to do.

Like, she started on my back, and normally that's the focus of a massage. I would say you normally get about two thirds of the session on your back. Not so today. Today, in a half hour session, she spent maybe five minutes, if that, just loosely running her hands up and down my back. Just loosely. Sort of skimming her hands over the skin, if you will. A sort of extended stroke, like I was a flighty Thoroughbred.

Then she moved on, whereupon she she spent, conservatively, about TEN FULL MINUTES on the backs of my legs. Some of that was doing a sort of pressing pinch, where she was squeezing big handfuls of flesh. Some of it was a massage stroke. And the rest of it - quite a lot of it, actually - was her attempting that thing where massage therapists do the smacking with the sides of their hands, but she hadn't understood it, so it was actually about ten minutes of being softly but rigorously karate chopped on the thighs and calves.

(No overlapping strokes, mind. I appreciated the transferrable skills on display.)

Next, she told me to turn over, so I did. At this point, she attempted to put a towel over me. I'm unsure why, since I was bollock naked and had been the whole time; perhaps she wanted me to stay warm? I don't think it can have been for modesty, though, at least not entirely, because I KNOW the kitty cat was not wholly covered. I think there was a good centimetre or two of labia poking out the base, two happy little hills, peeping out at the room as the session progressed.

And progress it did, but with one change - she used absolutely zero oil to do my front. From this point onwards, this encounter was was done dry. That is probably making some of you wince, but honestly, it actually wasn't that bad, for reasons of there was very little massaging that actually required it from here on out.

She sort of pulled on my fingers first of all. Really very firmly too, one of them clicked. She started with my left arm, and pulled every finger in turn; then she raised my hand up above my elbow, pressed her thumbs into the centre, and then quite literally punched my palm. Then she laid the arm back down, held my shoulder down with one hand, and then used her other hand to grab my arm at different points to sort of half squish it, half grind it into the bed. And then she yanked on my shoulder, karate chopped a bit more on my forearm, and then that was it for Arm 1. Arm 2 was much of the same, except she added in a fun lil move where she sort of waved it about a bit from the shoulder a couple of times.

Then she went back to my legs. No more oil, so she sort of half-heartedly prodded and karate chopped my shins a bit, but to be honest I don't think her heart was in it by then.

But THEN she had a brainwave, so the last five to ten minutes were an attempt at a face massage.

Except when I say a face massage, I mean:

Well; she started well?

She did the fingertips on the temples, thumbs on the forehead, rotate gently thing, which lasted maybe 15 to 20 seconds. But then she got bored, I suspect, so she smooshed my cheeks a bit and rotated them vigorously like a cartoon character. And then she decided that I carry my stress in my forehead, so she started gently pinching my eyebrows and spider walking her fingertips left and right across them. And then she massaged my forehead for a moment

and then

she went back to karate chopping. On my forehead. Where my skull is.��Repeatedly.

And like, don't get me wrong - it didn't hurt. But there's only so pleasurable and relaxing you can find "softly yet rapidly struck on the head in a rain of blows for two minutes straight."

Also, and I probably should have led with this, but she had her tits out the whole time.

Anyway it's my favourite place to go for a massage. I mean I now have to go somewhere else tonight to get my back sorted, admittedly, because I in fact carry my stress in the shoulders and not the eyebrows and they were the least attended part of me. But absolutely 10 out of 10 experience, no regrets.

Search is turning up nothing, but that's Tumblr even if there is something, so:

Have I told you guys about my many adventures with the brothel massage parlour around the corner from my house yet?

#long post #lol #tedious personal details #tales of chris the massage boy

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slurpyboii · 6 months ago

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A little bit of this chapter was actually p good but the rest was literally nothing. Like. What are we doing. What do you mean one more chapter left.

Spoilers in tags

#uraraka finally getting her time to grieve except it's for .5 seconds. and literally what was her and Deku's talk. like bro actually what #and then the entire class showing up including mf aizawa. okay man. whatever.#i dont really feel too strongly on any deku ships including izuocha. after seeing the ending of last chapter i mentally prepped for the #possibility of it happening. but like. man what do i do with this.#i def prefer the no canon ship route just because i feel that makes fandoms of finished series way less annoying #like the kny fandom is insufferable ab ships cause of the canon ones #but all of that build up just for class 1a to show up and for their talk to last like 10 seconds. like im happy but i wanted more from that #ig i just wanted a far more emotionally impactful scene but instead it just felt like Izuku playing therapist again #which makes me wonder if it would've been different had be gone the ship route #not mad since i prefer other ships anyway #just. conflicted on that conclusion #but denki showed up for a panel so actually who cares about any of this #mha #my hero academia #mha spoilers #bnha #boku no hero academia #bnha spoilers

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irrealisms · 4 months ago

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every time I see a “it’s actually totally fine and nbd to have sex you don’t enjoy and are uncomfortable with because your partner wants it and you want them to be happy, as long as you’re giving uncoerced consent!” post I lose a month off my lifespan

#can /some people/ do this and have it be healthy for them? sure #but this is the overwhelming pressure both in a relationship and from society #and ime at least it has fucked me up a lot #to have sex i technically gave uncoerced consent to #where i was uncomfortable and unhappy and doing it to try and make my partner happy #bonus points for ‘it’s just like any other activity! just like you can watch a movie you don’t like for the sake of your partner #you can take a few hours to have sex you don’t like for them’#like come on now.#sex is not in fact psychologically identical to movies for most people #when i was a kid my school often made me watch movies I didn’t like or want to watch #you can say this isn’t ideal but #surely you can see. how this is different. than if they had made me have sex i didn’t want.#whatever WHATEVERRRRRR i know the sentiment is helpful for a lot of ppl #and i probably go too hard in the opposite direction #but im not framing myself as a wise advice giver im just rambling in tumblr tags abt my issues #if i were giving advice. well personally i would try to be more nuanced #than ‘don’t worry about it! it’s fine and normal to have sex you’re uncomfortable with and if you disagree you’re acephobic’#but that’s just me.#therapists dni #oh also I agree that people shouldn’t have to fake ‘normal reactions’ to sex #or to try and have orgasms if that’s unrewarding for them etc #im stone! its complicated! i get it!#but you gotta be careful to give the message ‘it’s complicated’#and not just. encouraging ppl to do things they’re genuinely uncomfortable with to make their partner happy.

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vibingforjudaism · 1 year ago

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I need a therapist who I can argue with and who will give me jewish advice ....a rabbi. I need a rabbi

#afakelj #seriously though #i thought my last therapist was good!#and then i tried to change some stuff and do some arguing #and the reaction was... mrrrgh #also idk. i feel like.... i don't want to have to update the therapist about what is happening in my life #which is stupid! of course i should they've got many patients #but i feel like what i just sit there talking about my week? i do that to my friends already #i'd like a situation where they knew me enough to already have a general idea of what was going on #so i could meet with them less frequently. say once a month #and then we could work on a specific problem i'm having and i could get advice on that and see how that's working out #i really think of therapy as brain and emotions doctor and where i'm at now i want...more jewish methods of dealing with life?#does this make any sense #.....a bubbe would also work in a different but similar way. i need one of them too T.T #but you see i pay the rabbi by dues to the synagogue. so i just have to find a synagogue i like (lmao just)#i have to marry someone and start raising grandchildren to pay the bubbe

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a-shadowedvales · 9 months ago

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so… in the additional media of stranger things (specifically the comics i’m mentioning), it was initially brenner’s idea/plan to kill off the other test subjects because they weren’t performing as well as eleven was. it was his best solution because that way, all the resources, time, and money could instead be placed only to her. and i just…. sure henry is a fine character and the massacre makes a lot of sense to me, but i think i am once again gonna change up my canon to actually fit this potential narrative instead.

i genuinely think the comic canon of the lab and brenner is far more intriguing than the show. everything with 9/9.5, ricky, and francine. eleven being the only one who grew up completely in the lab. those other kids were either volunteers, well into their teens, or had some semblance of a home life. eleven was the only one practically moulded from the womb. and they all had such a range of interesting powers. i firmly stand with the idea that jane is the only one who can contact the void.

brenner’s entire point of view on the lab subjects changed the second he found out terry was pregnant. he discovered he could steal this baby and make her his own. there would be no convincing the child because it’s all she would have ever known. because of this, i would not put it past a man like brenner to kill the other subjects for the sake of the “greater good” in this case, eleven.

eleven’s gifts just continue thriving beyond his wildest expectations. brenner would never dare assume that having moulded her from the womb, she would still be able to grow into her own person, her own mind, and one day be able to see him for exactly who he was.

back before season four aired, it was obvious there were other test subjects because jane was 011. so there were at least ten kids before her. but i always liked the idea/assumed that she was the last experiment because she was the most successful. that they didn’t need anyone after her because she was fulfilling everything they set out for her to do. with flying colours.

i just think the whole rainbow room idea, pitting the kids against each other thing… been there, done that. boring and predictable. i think at this point my portrayal of her time in hawkins lab really stems from the complete isolation she endured. where having the rainbow room, although eleven was obviously the most isolated out of the kids, brings that sense of community and sister/brotherhood. albeit extremely warped and toxic. knowing that she wasn’t alone in that experience just. doesn’t sit well with me. i think it’s important to note that she was alone, physically and mentally. which is why kali is also so important to her growth. i thought a lot of the flashbacks of her time in the lab during season four was really boring, repetitive, and just very predictable. although peter becoming vecna was a surprise to me, and was a nice little twist, the idea of her having an ally on the inside was really interesting.

maybe they did get as far as they do in canon, peter ballad was telling the truth about everything, about some of the workers there being prisoners like him, and he really wanted to get her out and to safety. but before they can escape through the pipes, they’re caught. peter is shot on the spot, and eleven is put into the isolation room for a few days as punishment. in this timeline, henry would be vecna, but henry would not be peter ballad.

when eleven turned seven, and was already showing extreme promise, where the other children were average at best, brenner had the eight children killed. kali had already escaped. this was the main cause for peter to gain eleven’s trust and try to get her out. because if brenner could murder his “children” in cold blood, there’s no way eleven was safe even in spite of her power.

when eleven is allowed out of the isolation room, her testing becomes more rigorous in attempt to distance and make her forget about what she attempted to do with peter. brenner begins gaslighting her, saying that there was never a peter, that she must have been dreaming. eleven does ask “papa” about “mama”, given peter told her of the day terry broke in the lab, but brenner is convincing enough to make eleven believe it was all in her head. say she is around eight years old, meaning the same timeline of season fours canon flashbacks.

i still do wanna keep the henry creel canon, and keep him as 001. brenner didn’t have him killed alongside the other test subjects, because who knows, one day he could become an even better asset than 011. brenner definitely wants to be able to control henry, but keeps the chip in him because, for the moment, doesn’t know how. killing him would be too big of a loss.

when eleven is ten years old, henry’s concealed powers break free and he manages to get the chip out himself, and unleashes hell onto hawkins lab. he almost kills brenner by snapping his bones, but eleven manages to stop him. her extreme abilities are unleashed, and she sends henry to the upside down. she does fall into a coma due to the extremity of the situation, but she does not forget what happened. brenner believes she’s the perfect weapon as she stepped in to save him without a second thought, was able to defeat henry, and opened a door to something he never thought possible. eleven is rewarded for her efforts. although she remembers the entire battle / confrontation, her memories regarding the portal are very hazy.

brenner decides not to focus on the portal straight away, instead gets her training harder and harder to see what else she can accomplish. also loved the idea of brenner sending her into the void to “look for him” so that will definitely be kept.

by the time she escapes and season one begins, her knowledge of the upside down is basically what we see in canon. because she passed out the moment after she sent henry away, she was once again gaslighted into believing she merely threw him through the glass and killed him. for two years she believed this, until making contact with the demogorgan, and those memories return completely.

due to her saving brenner’s life, (it was pure instinct. she happened to be there. saw her “papa” hurt and knew she had to make him better.) brenner constantly thanks her. but in a very condescending way. tells her: “you saved me so i can continue saving you.” aka, harness your abilities and see what else i can achieve from you. despite the fact that she saved his life, these words and phrases make her feel indebted to him. that she owes him something further.

i don't realistically see her thriving with her speech improvement until she's well into her twenties at least. her slowed development, sensory and social deprivation causes a serious delay in language. surrounded by other children she would have overheard conversations, some would have spoken to her. her conveniently forgetting her upbringing pre the battle with henry just isn't good enough for me anymore. it makes more sense for her to have been raised alone.

it also helps indicate why she gravitated towards the boys when they found her in the woods. they would have been the first people her age she ever remembered seeing. as far as she knew, during the lab there was no one like her. everyone was much older, they were adults-- although she stayed with benny, i'm not sure if she would have stuck around very long. where she followed the boys home without thought.

also it's important to note that after time, jane does understand that peter ballad was a real person, and was truly the first person (aside from terry) who wanted the best for her. when she remembers him, knows that brenner was lying, she deals with immense guilt regarding his death. he was shot right in front of her eyes, because he was trying to help her. this is another catalyst as to why after season two, jane never refers to brenner as papa. she does not give him that sort of credit.

#study‚ in my dreams it's all real and my heart has so much to reveal.#THINKING THOUGHTS. i have had this concept in mind for a while but i THINK i’ve fleshed it out properly now.#will write this up properly one day (never).#although henry offering eleven a place at his side wouldn’t be canon #he would definitely still look at her as an enemy for basically stopping his revenge.#AND the whole speech between he and jane never sat right with me.#saying brenner made him what he was / that it wasnt his fault etc. Like. No? henry was a sociopath. he killed his family.#brenner didn’t do anything to make him who he is. so jane always saw him for exactly what he was #and there’s absolutely no sympathy there.#and then regarding my season four canon as her regaining her powers by remembering the massacre/the fight. i am changing that to her #regaining her powers by simply confronting her past. understanding what she went through. finding ways to cope with it physically and #mentally. getting coping mechanisms from her therapist. seeking help. not needing to know WHY this happened to her (because there is not.#and will never be a reason.) but finding ways to accept it and move on. how to move on from eleven and become janessa ives.#also just because in this case henry doesn’t massacre a bunch of kids? It doesn’t make him any less evil. in this instance i am following #the idea that some of the workers were prisoners there in hawkins lab. and henry killed a bunch of the workers. so would definitely have #killed some innocent people.#just because i am separating peter from henry. does NOT mean i am excusing anything from henry/vecna.#in this case they are two completely different people. although i highkey wanna use jcb as peter because he just did the role SO WELL and #was SO BELIEVABLE i’m not sure about it yet. because i don’t want anyone to get the impression that i’m making excuses for henry.#BUT YES.#this be the new canon. <3 #idc brenner is such a good fuckin villain he’s disgusting but so intriguing.

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gibbearish · 4 months ago

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its occuring to me what specifically it is that therapists go to therapy for

#id always assumed it was yknow just a mix of things #and like nuance disclaimers thats still true yada yada thats not the point rn #but im thinking now that its more about. the weight #you have to be perfect. you have to be the ideal. you have to carry yourself perfectly and embody every principle youre trying to teach #you are responsible for other peoples ability to be happy‚ not just in how your action effect them here and now but #in what ripple effects any and everything you say could have #you are the authority figure‚ other people will listen to what you say‚ you can change the course of their entire lives #of course that would weigh on a person. how couldnt it #and how could you ever turn it off #how could you ever let yourself just be a person‚ messy and imperfect‚ when you know so intimately the ramifications of things like that?#and yet how couldnt you when you know that no one can be 'on' like that all the time?#do therapists actually go to therapy? or do they go to a support group in everything but name? surely the person #theyre talking too feels the same pressure‚ if not moreso #a part of me wonders how much it can really help‚ then‚ preaching to the choir. but a bigger part of me knows better #knows that the only difference between the choir and the rest of the congregation is the willingness to sing in front of others #either way‚ your audience already knows and agrees. its just a question of which direction youre facing #origibberish

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littlest-bugz · 3 months ago

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Child me would be so happy if they saw who I am today- That's not something I would've ever thought I would say, but here I am. It's kind of surreal, if I'm being honest.

That poor kid went through so much pain and suffering, but I never gave up. I have my system to thank for my safety, my ability to bounce back. I am fractured but whole- broken but beautiful.

If only he could see all the good that has come into our life. Yes, I live with the same abusive family, but there is so much good.

I finally got the accommodations I always needed, I can finally say I have friends who care about me and understand me, and I can even say that the suicidal ideation I've dealt with my whole life is not an issue- and so much more that I'm grateful for. Itty Bitty Bugz would be amazed.

I've fought tooth and nail to get here. I've fought so much I scratched myself in the process, but gods be damned I am here. I am alive and breathing, surviving but thriving.

Things will never be the same- not that there ever was a moment of my life not colored with trauma- but I will always be resilient. I will always fight for my life, even if it's far from perfect.

Those who hurt me in the past- they tormented me, made every waking moment of my life hell, yet somehow, I find it in my heart to forgive them. Forgiveness not for them, but me, so I may let go of the past and step into the future- a happy future.

Many of them can only see me in their dreams at this point, but I will never forget them and the pain they cause me. Yet, despite everything they did to me, I came out on top.

Child me would be so happy. There is hope.

#random thoughts #just kinda rambling #I just the other day had a moment of noticeable healing- I realized I hadn't had suicidal thoughts in months. That's huge for me #I've been suicidal as far back as I can remember- I never wanted to live. I wanted the pain to stop.#the pain doesn't stop- not while I still live with my family- but I can cope. I have been coping.#I will say tho- My therapist has been amazing for all of this. I think having a specialist for DID made everything click #It does suck knowing that there was never not a moment of my life where I wasn't being traumatized #Those memories came back to me. But ykno what? It's just a part of my story #I don't think I would wish for my life to have gone differently. as fucked as that sounds.#I just wouldn't be the person I am today had I not gone through what I did. And I'm pretty proud of the person I see in the mirror #Someone recently told me I was extremely resilient and I'm just like- I've had to be but I love that I am #WELL... anyways #enough rambling #just my own thoughts about my healing #Idk if this needs any tws but put an ask in my anons if it does #the bugz speak

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charliextea · 5 months ago

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has it ever occurred to anyone that the black and white thinking of anti-/pro- language is a trauma response and we all probably need therapy? and like, life is not actually black and white almost ever??? because human beings are complicated? and forcing yourself to pick a side and draw a line in the sand all the time is probably really bad for our mental health collectively?

#I spent 2 1/2 years working on dealing with my black-and-white thinking with my therapist #Only to come on here and for that to be The Thing We Are All Doing #I don’t know it just doesn’t hit right #has someone smarter than me already said this?#like i don’t think it’s helpful? but maybe i’m missing something #this is not about any specific pro or anti thing #but i will say that i’m talking mostly about social things #not like… law making things #laws have genuine impact and standing for or against a policy makes sense when that’s the only choice on the table #(like to be for or against a bill in its current form)#but when there isn’t a bill specifically being discussed it’s much more productive to state what your policies are #because two pro-choice people might have radically different views of that that means #and for the sake of passing a law that doesn’t matter #but when it comes to actually legislating… it does #idk. is this something? am i about to have the internet cops called on me?

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sqrkyclean · 2 days ago

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ok heres the first quarter of it

Dissociative amnesia.

That’s what his therapist had said. Dissociative amnesia. Something about complex ptsd and adaptive survival methods.

It had taken years for Timmy Turner to eventually agree to seeing a therapist at all. There had been a lot more stigma around the idea back in the day— that it was something only crazy people needed to do. And he wasn’t crazy, he just…

Dissociative amnesia.

Derealization.

Complex PTSD.

There were all these new buzzwords in his head. They were supposed to mean something, supposed to mean that there was hope for him to get better, to feel… different from the way the last twenty years had felt.

“And how have the last twenty years felt, Tim?”

His therapist, a younger-than-him blonde woman, fresh out of college. She always liked using his name, and she always had this… oddly casual way about her. She was the fifth therapist he had tried talking to, and honestly, it was going better than it had gone with any of the quacks he had seen before her.

“Like… It’s… y’know the feeling when you’re watching a movie, and you recognize an actor, but you can't remember his name? Like, you know you’ve seen the guy before, but you can’t put… words to it. And no matter how hard you try to focus, it feels like it keeps getting further away?”

He made illustrative hand gestures, unable to look her in the eye as he rambled.

“I’m… familiar,” she nodded. “Yeah, definitely.”

“It’s kinda like that, but— but that’s what it feels like whenever I try to think about where my life is supposed to be going. What I’m supposed to be doing,” Tim gestured vaguely. “Like there’s this big piece of everything that I can’t quite…”

He sighed, leaning back on the sofa. As much as he liked her as a therapist, her office layout was awkward. She would sit at her desk with her back to the laptop placed on top of it, facing towards the sofa. It made everything feel… lopsided.

“That makes sense,” she nodded, resting her elbows on her knees as she leaned forward. “You went through a lot of traumatic stuff as a kid. A lot of the time, when we spend so long in survival mode, once we get out of those situations it feels like you either need to keep being in fight-or-flight, or you end up kind of… listless.”

“Listless,” Timmy nodded. “That’s one way to put it, yeah.”

“Do you ever feel like… the opposite of that?” She tilted her head at him. “Like you know exactly what you want, and exactly how to get it.”

Timmy opened his mouth like he was about to say something, but then it just… fizzled out. “I—... I don’t… know.”

“What did you do as a kid that made you feel better when you felt out of place? I know your parents weren’t really an option.”

He tried to remember. He really, honestly did. There was that almost-memory sensation again, and then it was like it was swallowed up into the darkest corner of his mind.

Whenever he thought about this stuff, his head always went kind of… echoey.

The synapses just wouldn’t connect, like a cord had been severed. Like he was going to sneeze but his body wouldn’t let him. Like his vision wouldn’t adjust.

The silence was deafening. The absence of the memories that should have been there felt larger than anything real that he had left.

“I’d… hang out with my friends? But then something… happened. I don’t know. I stopped seeing them, stopped hanging out with them. I guess it happened around the time I started 5th grade… A couple new kids joined my class halfway through the semester and…”

No, that wasn’t right. Was it?

“You don’t have to remember all the details,” his therapist assured him, giving him a genuinely sympathetic smile. “What about now? Do you have any friends you can hang out with that might be able to give you some ideas?”

—

Remy Buxaplenty was doing pretty well, all things considered. His parents passed away and left him… everything. And he hadn’t run the family name into the ground yet, so that was nice.

does anybody wanna read my work in progress fairly oddparents fanfiction. its G rated and gen and about timmy coping with his lost memory as a 35 year old in therapy.

#txt

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