#but they'd NEVER believe a self diagnosis

[sunlit-mess]

Hello, I hope it's not rude but I'm REALLY REALLY fond of your art!!!!! I was scrolling through your blog from new to old and found that you have Bpd,,,. I only heard about this condition, what is it like? If it's ok to know,,,!

hello, thank u! uhm it's something? HAHAHAHA idk how to explain it 😭🏳 lemme try to be as direct as possible

I'm high-functioning, but there are points I seriously just start showing symptoms.

Emotions: INTENSE as it can get while FEELING 99 PERCENT EMPTY. Something just- keeps you so.. hungry (not literally). Sensory is also another factor, and honestly I burn out a lot, tend to get overwhelmed n meltdown like shit

Identity: I either have BEEF WITH it, feel GODLY, or be so LOW, really low. I live with both passion and hate. I'm very confused. But I can say I'm just tired!

Attachments: Relationships are so hard to maintain bc of how much I fear abandonment, like bro I can't even leave my family as much as I want to. I'm more scared of getting disowned or losing my name. Love is a concept I long to grasp at the same time scared of it, I don't understand jackshit about " love ".

> I tend to self-Isolate with or without reason

> ...I used to test other people whether they can handle me or not, whether they'd leave or not. Not anymore though, but the thought lingers.

> Very- paranoid- about.. perception, neglect and invalidity HAHA.

Mindset: They call it Black and White, or generally just two categories to label my perception of things. However, I try to understand AS MUCH AS I CAN about a situation, etc. See what's in-between before I decide. that's really hard for me to do LOL.

> I always do my best to think and be nice

> I can be so fucking bad at the same time, only to regret it the next second or so

> My mind is scattered all over the place, It's exhausting

Trauma: I have memory problems and a lot to connect with that. Hate and fear is what I'm accustomed to. I live with a fuck ton of active predicaments like hell. Old wounds keeps reopening, and new ones never closes.

Impulse: shows in speech more than in action (THANK GOD LMAO I'D DIE IF I LET MY INTRUSIVE THOUGHTS WIN)

Habits: uhm. Ranging from sunshine and rainbows to SELF-DESTRUCTIVE. I get obsessive, like.. really obsessive.

Coping mechanisms: Usually I have mood stabilizers and anti-depressants n shit, but I don't rely on them anymore (bc I can't keep buying). I don't have good coping mechanisms even for physical needs. It's so bad bro. So I just end up drawing. that's the only good one I can list.

Living with it: Exhausting and an internal war 24/7. Does it affect me physically? Yes. Does it come with other mental factors and conditions? Also yes! But as one of God's most tired soldiers, nothing I can do but keep walking.

What I'm confused about: dawg last time, i kept searching about how conditions co exists like— Thats normal?? N the last diagnosis I was in confirms it does and nothing to worry about. BLUD I AM DEF WORRYING. Autism n bpd? u mean my behavior and shit isnt meant to be invalid as most people perceive — u mean these fckass experiences built that bpd? ☠️ WHAT AM I THEN—

(I'm having a hard time believing it bc as an adult, it's harder to process information like these)

[librarycards]

*might be sending this to a bunch of people with great blogs who I really like and appreciate

saw a claim made that ocd "can never be cured, like thatevery person who has ocd will always deal with it, "have it" and that's because ocd is caused by a "chemical imbalance in the brain" and that it's been "proven by research". so they say you can't deal with ocd for only a few months or years, if you say you have than it wasn't actually ocd you're lying or exaggerating. which I find ridiculous and insulting, but than they say something worse "research has proven it's chemicals in the brain" which sounds even more ridiculou (im anti-psychiatry all the way. but what can I say to that?! any thoughts?? is this person referencing any real research? or just made up pro psychiatry nonsense??

I'm afraid I might not have a satisfying answer to this ask, mostly because I'm 1) agnostic (at my most generous) to the "chemical imbalance theory" of "mental illness" (as it were). there is nuance to this: i don't think that we are somehow entirely unaffected by our brains, in terms of structure and contents etc. Rather, I think that the construction of "mental disability" is relatedly only tangentially to what our brains actually "do." That is, the construction of mental disability preceded and continues to exceed what is capable of being known about the brain "itself," because mental disability is first and foremost a social, medical, legal, linguistic construction. Little more evidence of this is needed than the fact that I have never had my brain scanned, yet have been diagnosed with myriad mental disabilities and institutionalized against my will. The brain is to mental disability what "sex" is to gender –– a mythology of concreteness designed to (unsteadily) bolster the flimsiness of the diagnosis, the assignment.

While I am also uninterested in recovery as a paradigm, and in theorizing what it might look like to be "free" of a certain part of the way i move through the world (ocd included), I am interested in collective healing with and through self-determination and free association. What I know for sure, despite the murkiness of everything else, is that it is possible to substantially improve your quality of life in a wide variety of ways: some people find medications that help, some counselling (whether professional or informal). Others choose spirituality and meditation. Others self-direct using freely available therapeutic resources. Still more enlist the help of their friends and loved ones to keep track of types of behavior they'd like to avoid. And, of course, some don't do any of that, and it is their right to do so, so long as they are not endangering others, regardless of how shitty it feels (both for them and the people who care about them).

so: I'm giving you a non-answer. I don't believe in cure because I don't believe in disability-as-disease. I think people who are obsessed (haha) with figuring out the etiology of different diagnoses are at best naïve and at worst eugenicist. (Note: i am not upset with you, nor do I think you're a eugenicist or any other genre of bad person! Thinking about these things does not make you bad. Asking these questions in good faith does not make you bad, either.) I think that we will be much better positioned to talk about living and improving together when we forget chemical imbalances or medical decrees of terminality or unrecoverability or treatment resistance, and start thinking about things we can do in our lives now that help us create better futures.

[she-who-seek-happiness]

About my little journey about my diagnosis for autism (or whatever I have).

I have update on my Journey. I don't mean to offend and call me out if I do. It's just how I feel about my situation and myself.

In the Beginning of the year I made a post about how I was afraid of being diagnosed for autism. I didn't want to labeled as someone with a disability. My life is frustrating enough as is, I didn't need to add something more to my plate. I thought my life would be even harder if I were to be diagnosed and I was afraid. Afraid of what people might think. Afraid of how my life would change. Afraid of everything.

I spent the following months doing research, self analysis and going after a doctor, talking to people. I meet a psychiatrist and he referred me to a clinic. Last week I talked with my health care and got the contact of the clinic. The test is scheduled for the second week of December.

The psychiatrist listened to me and said is very likely I do have autism and want me to be tested for ADHD as well.

After much thinking through all this period I reached a conclusion, at least personally.

I hope I have autism. Or at least something. All my life I've been the "weird horse", as I heard in an analogy. I've been bullied, left out, excluded, always the black sheep. I never understood why. I tried hard to make friends in the beginning, not because I actually wanted friends but because I didn't want to be actively excluded. This was also an experience commented by someone diagnosed, and this resemblance with mlwhat happened to me was what triggered my little journey.

Without anything I'm just weird. Different. Someone that can't do the basics that everyone else can. Someone who is slow to understand people's intentions. Someone deemed a failure without reason or justification. It hurts, but I know that's how people see me. I know how little they think I can go.

If I have autism, or something else then I'm just different. I'm not a weird horse, I'm a complete normal zebra that has been raised to believe to be and act like a horse. I'm not a failure, the expectations that I should have are just different. I could reach the high places, I'd just need different means. Means not used nor understood by neuro typical people. you can't ask for a seal win a race against a bear and expect it to actually do it. But you could ask a seal to swim. You could ask both of them to hunt and they'd do it but each on their own way.

I always hated myself because I always thought there was something wrong with me. But now? If I actually have something, not even autism, but something. I started to actually feel like I can love myself. I vener felt that before. I'd finally be able to accept myself because in that case, there's nothing wrong with me. I'm simply different.

For that reason, I really, really hope I do have autism. Or something. If not, at the very least, something to explain why I am the way I am. And the possibility to love myself makes me so, so glad. I never thought that'd happen. I can't wait for the tests and the results.

[wishful-seeker]

Guuuys i finally see a CRPS doctor this week!

Tw: brief mention of wishing self harm, and mention of medical abuse.

So for 4 years ive had undiagnosed chronic pain, its severe, ive been bed/house bound for 2 years and need a wheelchair when i leave the house.

I talk alot about my experience with being disabled, but i usually don't talk about my actual symptoms often.

I can't use a computer 90% of the time, on good days, which is now twice a week, but used to be never, i can play pc games in 20 minute increments, twice a day. I can't wash dishes, i cant walk without pain, i can't sit in chairs without pain. Im stuck laying in bed, all day, everyday. I usually can't make art, sometimes i can. Im just in bed, on my phone, in constant pain. Its a VERY difficult existence and i have often wished i didn't have limbs because the pain can be so intense.

So ive gone to countless doctors, rheumatologists, a pain specialist, an orthopedic, a neurologist. The reason im always saying stuff like "doctors are scum" is because every single doctor ive ever met has minimized this pain, lied to me and told me they'd do everything they can and didn't, and purposefully wasted my time. I even traveled to a different state to see rheumatologists, they saw me twice, i literally cried and begged these people to give me medicine for the pain, they gave me a shot that they said would help for 2 weeks, it helped for 30 minutes, when i asked them what to do they ignored me. They diagnosed me with fibro specifically so they could get me to leave them alone. I knew that diagnosis was incorrect. Last doctor i saw was a neurologist, i told her i needed to be tested for CRPS, because that was the only lead we had left. She scheduled a brain mri and nerve damage test, they came back normal. I brought up that there is no test for CRPS, she said i was right, and i could definitely have it, but she said she can't diagnose it and i need to see a pain doctor. I told her first time i saw her what i was looking for, and she mislead me into thinking she had experience with crps, and wasted my valuable time and money with tests that were irrelevant. My pain doctor wasn't an option because he doesn't treat crps because he doesn't believe it exists.

So i was lost

Every doctor i knew actively worked against me and none of them could refer me to a CRPS specialist.

But last week i simply googled "crps doctor near me", i found one close by, called them, they didn't require a referral, and the appointment was scheduled a week later. No 2 months wait time, no bullshit doctors approval. Just a phone call away. Im seeing them in 3 days. Wish me luck!

To others out there struggling to get diagnosed, im rooting for you.

[selfdxculture]

Self DX culture is your parents never believing you and being unable to go get a diagnosis on your own because you're a minor and no one would believe you and even if they did they'd probably need parental permission in order to diagnose you anyways

.

[emcant]

Really sick reason to be happy but I can't stop smiling

TW/CW child abuse, mental illness, SH

One of my aunts calls our family "yours, mine, and ours", which is accurate. We've got me, my (step)brother, my dad, my stepmom, and my (half)sister. My brother is seven weeks younger than I am. Our parents got together when we were around four- "work spouses" who were both recently divorced- and our little sister came a few years later.

My bio mom and my brother's bio dad are a mess, somewhere between incapable and unwilling to parent full time. I've been in therapy off and on for most of my life and got my C-PTSD diagnosis at 15. My brother, god love him, just reached his first year of sobriety, having started drinking around the same age.

Naturally, every time we had a chance to say "This isn't normal" to our shared folks, we'd be told "Well of course you'd think that, you're used to your other parent!". The other person was a shovel used for digs: "This isn't their house!". They'd call me by my mom's name when I made them upset.

I assumed I was broken either because of my mom or because of the split. I can't know for certain, of course, but I think the cause of the C-PTSD was specifically that they traded custody daily, at my mom's request, until she moved out of state. She gives the silent treatment. My stepmom screams. The rules changed on me literally every 24 hours until I was 13.

Life evened out a lot when she did move away - but not entirely. I wound up in screamland 90% of the time rather than 50. I couldn't figure out why it didn't feel right or why it kept happening to me, but I believed my folks: I wasn't used to it because my mom's "parenting" is different and worse. I felt sickened to be involved with my mom at all. I thought that if only she wasn't waiting in the wings, I'd be entitled to a normal childhood, but because of her influence, I deserved everything I got.

Anyway, I have been texting my little sister about Christmas gifts for our brother, and out of nowhere, earlier this week, she tells me she's going to therapy for the first time... because she's realized it's not normal for your mom to scream at you literally all day and your dad to not intervene.

I haven't been home for more than three days since I moved out over a decade ago. I had a chance to pass through the town earlier this year, didn't do it, and still had panic attacks for two weeks straight. I can't hack it as someone's daughter; it makes me physically sick.

But that isn't a me problem.

Not a one of them could hack it as parents.

I've stopped hearing my mother's doubts in my head - I cut her off when I moved away. I've never been quite able to shut off my stepmom's. The screamer versus the silence... it fits.

I'm not a poser if I can't create when I don't have a comfortable space to work. I should not self-reject because I'm frightened. In the absence of an abuser, I'm finding that holding ideas in also hurts a lot.

I'm not stupid or useless or gearing up to be a failure for needing the introvert rest period and knowing my limits. It will not hold me back in life.

It isn't normal to want to hurt yourself. It isn't normal for people to laugh it off and talk about themselves when you tell them you want to hurt yourself.

The mandatory insincerity I grew up around has thankfully faded a lot - I don't think I could summarize that anymore if I tried.

I'm heartbroken that my little sister is going to need to learn these things - but ecstatic that she will, and is actively moving towards it. Had a similar conversation with our brother a few years ago, but of course, he has his dad in the wings; it hits differently now knowing that it would have happened no matter what. Children in that home are screamed at, hit, and not defended. Simple as.

I'm not what they wanted me to be.

I'd say that's "fine" but that doesn't even begin to cover it. It's exemplary.

[unemployedemployee]

It's especially bad when it comes from other autistic people, like you of all people should understand how shitty it is to not know what the fuck is wrong with you. I'd be in a significantly worse place right now if i didn't self diagnose, i wouldn't know who i am, i wouldn't know why i do any of the things that i do, i wouldn't know that stimming is okay, and and and (german expression we should totally bring into the english language)

I brought up a hypothetical child in an argument once, they're autistic but not getting diagnosed because their parents don't believe in autism. Would you rather

A. The child think it's broken and have to wait until it's at least 18 and financially stable enough to finance a diagnosis, which may never happen if it's poor, or even with the money they might not get diagnosed because they're part of certain minority groups like racial minorities or not a cis man, or the doctors around them brush off people above the age of 7 because "autism is a childhood disease"

B. Self diagnose and FINALLY find out who they are and that they're not broken before the age of whenever they'd be able to be diagnosed

C. You think autism starts when you're diagnosed? (Why would you think that)

And what's even the big bad thing that could happen if someone self diagnoses and is wrong????? Literally what??????? People will say "Think of the accomodations they're taking away from actually diagnosed real autistic people!!!" What accomodations???

“You shouldn’t self-ID as ADHD/autistic, you’re turning a very real mental condition into a trend” Ok then stop saying delulu. Stop speculating on which cluster C personality disorder the criminals you hear about on the news have. Stop saying “schizoposting” and “acoustic” and “is it restarted?” Stop using “psycopath” and “sociopath” as catch-all ways of calling someone a bad person. Stop saying “the intrusive thoughts won” when you bleach your hair and then turn your nose up at people who suffer from very real, very scary urges of physical/sexual violence. Stop saying “I’m so OCD” as a way of calling yourself neat. Stop treating BPD/ASPD/Bipolar as inherently abusive. Stop saying “OP I am living in your walls” without tagging for unreality. Stop diagnosing complete strangers you’ve never met on r/AITA with NPD.

You first. If you don’t want our disabilities to be treated like trends then stop belittling and minimising them. I’ll NEVER judge a person for trying find labels for their symptoms when an apathetic, racist, sexist, ableist healthcare system refuses to. But I will absolutely judge a hypocrite. Which a lot of you are

[pupinsanity]

RE: your question about whether it's a good idea to make alters separate or something along those lines:

Considering you're still questioning OSDD/DID, it would not be a good idea to try and force separation (barriers i think you said), because you may not have DID/OSDD and you could end up losing your entire identity if you are to learn you aren't a system. I wish I remembered who they were, but a person once described how entirely they'd become a void of a person with no idea of even what music they liked because they had forced separations between what they thought were alters but later learned were just facets of themself after they learned they had a different non-DID/OSDD disorder. Iirc, they talked about working so hard to make each part completely unique & ended up mimicking other systems' parts because "they were doing it right" and in the process lost whatever had made them their own person by the time they realized they'd gotten their self-dx wrong.

For us, we tried very hard early in our diagnosis to create distinct separations between us, popular systems like dissociatED and the entropy system on YouTube were, at the time, pushing that kind of alter separation to be a good way to build communication within a system/collective. They were the kind of systems who would dress differently depending on who was fronting & that kind of thing. For us, doing that made us so much more unstable & we were losing time much more frequently as well as the fact that our memory for daily life things got much worse.

We started only working with whoever decided to be around at the time when we went in for therapy, never forcing anyone to switch or talk or write, not even giving them a name unless they wanted one, just let people move fluidly. It's kind of like when you have a roommate and y'all live in the same house but are always doing your own things. Sometimes you're both in the kitchen and you talk for awhile, but you both go back to doing your own stuff.

In sessions, if someone new switched in, our therapist would work with them to resolve any trauma they remembered, ask them a little bit about themselves, and "built" them a room in the innerworld shop they had their own stuff and their own place to live. For a lot of them, that was all they needed, and also, for a lot of them, they don't really front anymore. They're happy where they are and what they have. There are 350+ of us, so we've never taken care of all of them in this, but we still do this for "new" or rediscovered parts.

Yeah, being blurry a lot of the time while everyone adjusted was frustrating, but eventually, everyone got used to it & there were no more possessions or fugue states. In fact, as the current host, we didn't even know I wasn't the previous host until 3 months after I got here. That's how relaxed we've been!

So I suppose my advice would be to endure the blurry state for now, let whatever part(s) you think are around write to the system or do activities they might like, etc. But we believe it would be detrimental in many ways to force barriers. The goal of a lot of systems in treatment is to reduce dissociative barriers as much as possible, anyway. Either to reach final fusion or functional multiplicity (neither of which is better than the other, just to each their own). And if you learn you're not dealing with DID/OSDD, you will still know who you are in the end.

—LCS

hey thank you anon, this makes a lot of sense. i really don't wish to lose my sense of identity even more, so much that in my head it was better to have multiple distinct identities than none at all.

I'll try to take things easy. sometimes it feels like im standing with a shovel at the edge of my mind, just waiting for the opportunity to dig in deeper. i probably shouldnt. not knowing what's in my head is a huge pain for me, but I'll try to pull through, at least until i have professional treatment.

thanks again :)

[girlrottingsince2001]

it's sad that being late diagnose autistic and having everyone* gaslight my autoimmune conditions for a decade because they've been so misunderstood for so long (even with all the massive amounts of information coming out on all my conditions in the last 5 or so years people still don't wanna take it seriously) that I obsess over these false ideas of being a "good human" that aren't as important as being a "good person".

being a "good human" is ableist and about our mechanical and cognitive abilities. being a "good person" is about doing our best be respectful and understanding of others and doing what we believe and know is right even when we we may have disabilities and struggles that make it hard to function in social dynamics and society.

it's hard to let go of the internalized ideas of I'm a failure or putting ideas of morality on my meltdowns. it's hard to not feel like I'm broken garbage. I would never feel that way about anyone else who is autistic or disabled in any other way but that internalized trauma of not being truly recognized as a disabled person with my cognitive disabilities (autism, adhd, complex ptsd) and my physical ones and instead being labeled as "weak", "failure", "making it up", "attention whore", "faking it", "manipulative", and so much more.

There were many people from childhood to early adulthood that did recognize my disabilities, but not with compassion, they looked at me "useless garbage taking up space" and "polluting the world". they believed people like me should be aborted or euthanized for being disabled and not being useful enough to society.

Although I think all this shit is wrong and false. I was so programmed to hate myself and not even recognize myself as disabled. A lot of what I've learned is disability I associated with just being stupid or useless and other harmful shit because everyone* around me did.

In meltdowns and complex ptsd episodes or any other time I'm struggling with metacognition it's hard to recognize that these things are disability symptoms and to have compassion with myself without falling back into those old timelines of being told I should hate and blame myself for being a "bad human". It's hard to remind myself that I am disabled not a pos and that I am still worthy of love.

it sucks because I don't have these beliefs of other disabled people, because I've never believed or agreed with this shit. But the problem is my image of self and having internalized the ableist trauma shit for almost 2 decades before I was finally validated for my cognitive and physical disablities. Even when I had diagnosis or all the symptoms of my disabilities (like going above and beyond minimal requirement for diagnosis) I was gaslight by professionals and doctors for my age. Which is inane because you'd think that with me being so young and being physically disabled they'd take it seriously ??? but no. and if doctors did take it seriously they'd be like you're too young for any treatment options but then gaslight me for my falls and needing a cane at 17.

My disabilities have often been framed as some kind of "choice" or "attempt for attention" – which is so fucking hilarious to me considering I HATE BEING PERCEIVED AND WOULD LOVE TO DISAPPEAR.

but not being able to recognize and validate the fact that I am cognitively and physically disabled for about 2 decades really fucked up myself worth and image of self, and it kept me stuck in cycle of internalized ableism without even realizing because I didn't even know it was ableism. Sometimes I still forget. I think the reason I've had such a completely different view of my own disabilities and others with disabilities is I recognize others as legitimately being disabled while gaslighting myself on being disabled at all because other people did it so much. and being undiagnosed autistic we fall into masking of letting everyone else define who we are and what we should be in order to survive in normie culture. So until finding people who love and accept me for my disabilities I haven't been able to even accept I am disabled until the last year really. And accepting I am disabled is the key to loving myself. I don't think there's anything wrong with being disabled. but when I can't recognize I am disabled, it becomes about some other idea of "morality" on myself that I was trained to develop through trauma. and it's hard because in these rougher states I fall backwards and the people who love me try to validate that I am disabled and there's nothing wrong with it. But I don't even think it's disability, I equate it to some of there idea of being a "good human" because trauma.

I honestly want to draft this like most my expressions of self but I also know that I need to for myself be open with the struggles of being disabled because I believe it's important for disabled people to share our stories and struggles and to be seen in the world. and I need to stop being ableist to myself like I never would be to others.

but being seen and being disabled is often traumatic. because you're seen through a lens of ableism and other misperceptions, rather than being seen for the reality of your multitudes and who you are as a disabled person.

(I hope my grammar is right and this says what I mean, I just got out of a meltdown and needed to rant and brain not doing so good)

[stardustedknuckles]

I would take this one step further and say that thinking in terms of potential can only harm you at this point.

You grow up hearing what you COULD be, internalizing that there's some version of you to be unlocked through besting your adhd. But guess what? That adhd is part of you. That IS you.

That doesn't mean "you don't have potential so stop trying to be better." it means "stop looking for the version of you 'under' your diagnosis." it's not your fault that a bunch of neurotypical peers and leaders projected this idea of what you could be onto you. Hell, they even meant well! They wanted to give you hope that you could be "just like everyone else" and believe in you when shit sucked - but I'm here to tell you you're going to get a lot farther if you accept yourself where you are, limitations and all, and build WITH your adhd instead of trying to move in spite of it.

You were never that potential better self they said they saw. You have only ever been you, and you require support and help just like everyone else. The fact that your support and the consequences of not having it look different for you in a way other people think they have figured out cannot be allowed to shape your perception of yourself.

By all means get your meds. Your therapy. Your help and support to overcome your very real obstacles. But understand that all of it has always just been you. You were you before the meds, you are you on them. You are not some mismanaged potential that someone else said they saw. What they should have told you, would have if they'd understood the scope of things, is "I can see that you are doing everything you can within the limitations you're facing. I hope one day you have the resources to make the things you're already achieving easier."

It's true that with your regular tasks becoming easier you might unlock the ability to fit more in your day and accomplish more. But maybe you don't. Maybe the only thing meds ever do for you is smooth the life you're already living. Let that be enough. Don't make the mistake of striving for the version of you that only ever existed in the minds of other people. You have anyways been you and you have always been good enough, adhd and all. You're not "potentially" worth taking up space.

As someone recently diagnosed with ADHD as an adult, one thing that’s been helping me grapple with the intense shame I have over all my “wasted potential” is accepting that potential doesn’t exist and never did.

This sounds so harsh, but please bare with me.

I procrastinated a lot growing up. I still procrastinate today, but less so. And yet, I got good grades. I could write an A+ paper that “knocked [my professor]’s socks off” in the hour before class and print it with sweat running down my face.

I was so used to hearing from teachers and family that if I just didn’t procrastinate and worked all the time, I could do anything! I had all this potential I wasn’t living up to!

And that’s true, as far as it goes, but that’s like saying if Usain Bolt just kept going he could be the fastest marathon runner in the world. Why does he stop at the end of the race??

If ANYONE could make their top speed/most productive setting the one they used all the time, anyone could do anything. But you can’t. Your top speed is not a speed you’re able to sustain.

Now, I’ve found that I do need to work on not procrastinating. Not because the product is better, even, but because it’s better for my mental health and physical health to not have a full, sweating, panicked breakdown over every task even if the task itself turns out excellently. It’s a shitty way to live! You feel bad ALL the time! And I don’t deserve to live like that anymore.

So all of this to say, I’m not wasting a ton of potential. I don’t have an ocean of productivity and accomplishments inside of me that I could easily, effortlessly access if I just sat down 8 hours a day and worked. There’s no fucking way. That’s not real. It’s an illusion. It’s fine not to live up to an illusion.

And if you have ADHD, I mean this from the bottom of my heart: you do not have limitless potential confounded by your laziness. You have the good potential of a good person, and you can access it with practice and work, but do not accept the story that you are choosing not to be all that you are or can be. You are just a human person.

[collymore]

Gary Goldsmith isn't the solitary wife abuser linked to Kate, her spouse William is as well!

By Stanley Collymore  

Kate's major hospital operation is no more authentic than Charles' so-called fucking cancer diagnosis is. Both a deceitfully lying and dishonest part of a desperately contrived, concerted and an utterly self-serving artifice to save Kate and William's pathetic asses and what's miserably left of this odiously dysfunctional family. The reality is that William, who is effectually a cowardly bastard, like all of his kind are, in addition to the egregiously bullying, utterly selfish, socio-psychopath and delusional, quite inured racist, white supremacist, master race, Aryan white Caucasian that he innately but highly stupidly and equally ludicrously believes that he is, is also a violently nasty wife beater, who quite literally has been knocking the living shits physically out of his convenient Stepford wife Kate Middleton. I've personally no sympathy whatever for Kate and actually on the information that I've been evidently  rather assiduously confidentially and also trustworthily given, this white racist Karen is unquestionably essentially no different from the detritus piece of human shit that William likewise it.

Which brings the UK and other onlookers to the present situation that they're in and that the key players, the Palace, their quite bribed media acolytes and cronies, along with their own trolls assume they can get away with, and invariably do because they genuinely know they're dealing with a very intellectually challenged bunch of plebeian and serf sycophantic morons.

Kate and William aren't together and quite actually haven't been for some time. Also, while she lives in Windsor William actually lives in Kensington Palace in London. Not indistinct from Charles and Camilla living in separate homes 100 miles apart and as is well known was the situation with Philip and Liz Windsor. Notwithstanding all that, William who is most unquestionably so, a very closet Philip Schofield and undeniably lacking the balls as Philip Schofield did to own up to what he really is, in undeniably in the situation where he absolutely can't stand Kate, putting him in the very same situation as his father was with his mother Diana.

The principal difference being that Diana, the aristocrat that she was could, and if the Windsors didn't murder her as they did, would absolutely certainly in her own right carry on and independently like her son Harry do what she genuinely and honestly wanted to do. Kate, however, in marked contrast the stalking, gold digger trollop who has simply never actually done an honest day's work in her life and also is equally work shy, having gotten hold of the Christmas hamper that she connivingly got through marrying William, is not at all about to surrender it voluntarily. And as such, he William - and how very ironically that would bearing in mind the murder of his mother - his dad Charles and the rest of them can't actually embark on another risibly, "accidental" murder involving Kate, just as they'd also like to murderously and racially dispose of Meghan, they can't truly embark on that either; not realistically! So instead William, the psychopathic bully as he was with his brother Harry takes his ire and frustration out on Kate Middleton.

The problem is that ultimately like all very odious bullies this time William has simply literally gone too far; forcing Kate to flee to her parents with the children. A laughable state of affairs for me, as the Middletons, on their part, and distinctly from any really conscionable family simply can't or won't say and do anything because of whom the Windsors are; and most ironically as well, because of the undoubtedly principal role that Kate's mum Carole played in blatantly and sickeningly orchestrating the charade of social climbing and naturally rather self-serving interests that Carole contrived! A difficult situation to escape from let alone publicly explain, when your own, obviously evidently and distinctly sinister connivance does clearly turn on you and very viciously bites you on the ass!  

As for Charles pathetic and desperately so, cancer charade; cancer is, unquestionably so, rather commonplace nowadays, as to be almost meaningless unless the bearer or sufferer of it specifies what precisely it actually is; something that Charles rather categorically hasn't done! And the obvious reason is that Charles fucking well hasn't got cancer! It's a sympathy garnering ploy callously and quite calculatedly conjoined with the Kate Middleton situation to simply milk as much sympathy as they can really get over the odiously evil, egregious, also malevolent and undeniably racist and still ongoing vendetta they've waged against Meghan, for essentially being an African American woman who reciprocally clearly fell in love with Harry who actually married her instead of some white and delusionally very perceived English rose broad, crucially and primarily because he essentially loves Meghan and rather cognizant of what was evilly done to his mother Diana intelligently doesn't sensibly indulge in the precept of a Stepford Wife and broodmare. But likewise in addition was equally well aware that the collective antipathy you all had and still do against Meghan wasn't simply just related to her very discernibly racial origin but the equally obnoxious and actually abysmally contemptible notion that clearly Meghan's own presence as well any children that she produced with Harry would quite distinctly and likewise discernibly; undeniably, contaminate the biological, societally perceived and as well the divine matrix of the actual British so-called monarchical family!

I personally, actually don't believe that you have cancer Charles, and basically couldn't give a fuck if you really do as the minimum respect that I had for you, has quite clearly long dissipated. In 1989 I distinctly wrote a journalistic article, effectively so while on a sabbatical year in Barbados, suggesting in it, obviously, that Barbados which has had a continuous link with England since 1625, and was clearly instrumental in catapulting the then obviously, European backwater of England into the global empire, which it so subsequently became - please, actually go and quite accurately check up on your real history man - should actually cease to be a realm and essentially become a sovereign republic. The article predictably generated much debate generally, within my cultural homeland Barbados, where it was written and published and my very close friend the Prime Minister rather laughingly said when I raised the issue generally with him "we've actually far more important things to do in Barbados than worry about white racists in Britain".

But a crucial torch had effectively, been lit by me, and interestingly influential friends of mine; similarly also, former local pupils as well as students I'd taught; members of the political establishment; and crucially a general cross section of the distinctly very astute and similarly politically well versed Bajan public, discernibly enthused by what I'd written, were in full agreement. On then leaving Barbados at the end of my official sabbatical session I essentially returned to Germany and my academic engagements but was nevertheless kept fully appraised significantly of what was going on back in Barbados politically, as I've always actually made sure was the case and still do!

Frankly Charles, and even with a palm full of salt I don't actually believe your clearly, quite ludicrous, obviously lying and rather pathetic story that you really have cancer. For starters you're very evidently because of who you are a very prominent and also discernibly a noted public figure. I'm also quite fully cognizant however that while it is both infra dig and equally also, likewise illegal for one's personal doctors or other medical staff to publicly disclose private, medical information pertaining to literally any patient; if, however, such a patient of their own volition publicly decides to truly disclose what's actually, medically wrong with them and that patient is a prominent figure like you are Charles; it's not actually breaking the bounds of ethics or basically confidentially, let alone going into the real realms of illegality if that quite prominent person and, no less so, the King of Britain had their very trusted medical consultant alongside them to just obviously confirm that particular ailment that the patient did voluntarily tell the public that they actually have. But no doctor, even to the ultra-rich is publicly going to openly lie, knowing that if he's really caught out he'd be struck off! And that's distinctively why none are really backing your ludicrous cancer story!

You have not requested that, Charles, and literally with spurious reasons, because it's obvious to anyone that isn't a fatuous serf, vacuous plebeian or a basically discernibly puerile, brownnosing sycophant that you're bloody well lying! There are irrefutably obviously, evidently manifestly loads of things quite literally rather undeniably wrong with you Charles Windsor which if you were not purportedly considered to be Homo sapiens you would basically have already been put down! For really how the Hell is it even feasible let alone possible for a man your age apparently wracked with cancer, quite essentially, one of Britain's major killer diseases to have his wife sauntering off just as he's actually milking his own quite dubious public support, in distinct tandem with Kate's own mysterious illness, actually on a tropical sunshine holiday alone, in the rich and full awareness that all her needs will be amply fulfilled while she is actually there.

In the meantime, you Charles, Camilla, William, Kate and obviously the rest of your lot see your rather sick stratagems against Harry and specifically Meghan, and even their children quite miserably fall apart, but all the same you crucially but rather asininely still persist in what you're so evidently quite vile and evilly doing; as you effectively desperately get your media and equally palace flunkies to simply offload your quite numerous failings onto Meghan, even though it's abundantly clear those stratagems just aren't working. But that's the nature of the white supremacist, delusional and white master race beasts, who like their routinely racist scum are so irrefutably dumb and cowardly they literally can't even take ownership of their own sick racism, which they always manifestly and emphatically most lyingly deny!

In a recent conversation I had with an American colleague, he succinctly very laudably effectively outlined the views on this very subject matter that I share. Brits, and basically white ones, he aptly emphasized, this guy is definitely white by the way, have rather unquestionably become very submissive while actually still remaining the feudal serfs and vile plebeians they've obviously, essentially always have been. Discernibly, he went on, you have this unquestionably quite solitary, incestuously inbred hereditary family sponging off you, yet effectively not regarding you with any dignity, to even tell you the most basic truth about Kate, William, or even Charles himself, pertaining to their actual situations. A state of affairs which you've every right to ask about and truthfully know, quite taking into account, that you pay taxes to permit them to live in and effectively enjoy the sumptuous lifestyle that they do have. Yet if you go against the actual grain and asked for answers you have prized sycophantic and arrogant cunts like Rebecca English purportedly editor in chief hack of the Daily Mail, while in her odiously sick and rather malevolent and simply egregious role most happily engaged in fostering, and undoubtedly poisonously promoting all the vitriolic crap she can muster against Harry, but specifically Meghan and their children, has the bloody audacity to vociferously berate those who sensible and similarly intelligently question the palace's lying narrative for which they handsome pay the likes of Rebecca English to support!

(C) Stanley V. Collymore 9 March 2024.

[leahgecko]

it's been almost a year since i've sat down to write one of these holy shit. i don't know if that's a good thing or a bad thing? there's so much to say but i don't even know where to start? i went to the blue ridge rock fest this year and it got canceled because of weather after like 3 days. which, i'm not exactly complaining? it was a blast while it lasted but also a little bittersweet since it was something that i knew you would've LOVED and it was starting to hit me in the feels. now i'm just vibing out in nashville which is also something you would've loved lmao.

i've been sober for like a year and a half now. from narcotics, not alcohol lmao. ya girl still needs her tequila. sometimes, on the shitty days when i'm ready to cave, i can hear you go all "don't you fuckin DARE." it's insane how you're still my voice of reason sometimes. idk... this is the first time in my life that i've felt like i'm actually doing decent? i've been doing a lot of work on my inner self, trying to unlearn shitty habits... and i still have a lot of work to go. but like, progress is progress, right?

there's so much shit happening right now but i'm just kinda taking it a day at a time. my momma got a breast cancer diagnosis a few weeks ago and i'm also dealing with some health shit myself that i'm still coming to terms with. then there's just shit with my 'father' and i'm like what the actual fuck is happening rn. it is what it is i guess and i'll just keep dealing with it but sometimes i'd like a break.

once i get back home, i gotta go see your parents. they told me i could decorate their house again for halloween and i'm so excited. i feel like i haven't been able to see them as much as i'd like because i've been so busy but they've always been understanding about it. tbh, sometimes i'd wish they've just get mad about it but i know that'll never happen.

our girl is in highschool now and z is a full grown adult. it's kinda hard to believe. i'm glad that they're healthy and thriving but holy shit i wish they'd stay smol. kenzi still finds ways to bring you up in our conversations and it makes my heart happy knowing that you were so so loved. not only by me, but by literally everyone who knew you. i just wish you could've seen it before it was too late.

until next time, fly high nerd. i love you.

[internerdionality]

Yep, that latter.

For me it was, my parents never told me about my sister's ADHD diagnosis because they didn't believe it was true/real. Because that would have made them address their own milder ADHD symptoms that they'd dismissed as "laziness" that they'd overcome with "hard work" (because that was all we needed to do, right?)

I struggled for years thinking that I was just really lazy and that if I was a good, organized, responsible person like my parents, I wouldn't have so many problems with procrastinating on assignments, inability to keep my room/clothes clean and organized, losing things, forgetting things, etc. etc.

(My sister and I almost certainly have the exact same brand of ADHD, but because I am much more naturally bookish than she is, I didn't have the same struggles at school that she did—I loved reading and my half-assed-stayed-up-till-3-the-night-before-the-deadline bullshit papers were generally still good enough for an A—and so mine was never diagnosed)

My self-esteem still sucks. I have to consciously remind myself that I do have an actual fucking disability, the fact that I can work a full-time job and run a household is enough, I don't need to be down on myself for occasionally screwing shit up and not volunteering for a hundred different causes like my mom.

Not telling your kid they have a learning disability, chronic illness, mental illness etc. so they can “feel normal” actually does the opposite. They will not feel normal if they do not have the context to understand that their normal will be different from that of their peers.

[arosnowflake]

Okay so I readily acknowledge that I know jack shit about politics/how to run a community or society/whatever, and I don’t generally like to get involved with that for this reason, but I hope your self-sustained anti-capitalist anarchist future vision contains some kind of method for caring for those who cannot care for themselves other than just ‘the community will do it!’ because I promise you they won’t. Or at least they won’t do it well. If I can’t get people to listen to the fact that I can’t garden now, when there is no real reason for me to be gardening, they sure as fuck aren’t gonna listen to me in a solarpunk future. 

Some people need synthesized medication that you cannot replace with herbal meds or be synthesized outside of a lab. Some people need 24/7 care that only specialized workers can provide. Some people need care that the average person is not equipped or trained to handle. Some people will physically not be able to handle living in a self-sustained fashion without outside help. Some people will simply forever be the weird one out, the one that everyone avoids because they have tics or they stim or they talk weirdly or not at all or they see things that aren’t there or for a variety of reasons, and when they start flagging, they community is just as likely (if not more likely) to ignore them as they are to help them. Disabled people aren’t gonna disappear just bc capitalism did.

So unless you want all disabled people to go extinct in your new utopia, you’re gonna have to plan around that, and until I see someone discuss this in depth, I’m not gonna be very down with whatever future vision you got. 

[rayshippouuchiha]

Au with Ichigo as a pretty amazing ASMR YouTuber and the local serial killer is the fan that loves him

Perhaps not exactly what you had in mind but this is what the void spat forth so here we go:

Kisuke's never been fond of the term psychopath.

Or, to be more accurate, he's never been fond of having the label attached to himself.

He's self-aware and intelligent enough to understand why so many people enjoy attempting to attach that particular tag to his name after spending any real amount of time with him.

Kisuke knows that, he's aware, and so it's honestly completely understandable when people reach that conclusion.

It's just that he's just never actually agreed with the pseudo-diagnosis so many like to sling in his direction.

Because Kisuke knows himself better than anyone else and he knows that he is not a psychopath.

Is he manipulative? Yes, of course. Is he violent? Obviously.

But Kisuke has never lacked empathy, has never lacked remorse or anything of the like.

His emotions are and have always been firmly intact.

So, contrary to popular belief, Kisuke is not a psychopath.

Instead, he's simply blessed with a particular talent for pragmatism.

Or perhaps an overabundance of it, depending on who one asks.

For all that Kisuke has always enjoyed learning and experimenting and generally broadening his intellectual horizons, it's a passion that had, ultimately, been born from practicality.

He'd grown up destitute, just another Kabukichō bastard. He'd been born to a mother who'd worked in whatever shady "host club" that would take her and who had simply stopped coming back to the matchbox apartment they'd lived in by the time Kisuke was eight.

She'd left for work one evening, heels on, cheap perfume lingering in the air around them, with an absently affectionate kiss to the top of his messy hair and Kisuke had simply never seen her again.

Kisuke had been on the streets, scrapping and stealing and learning to be vicious just to survive, by the time he was nine.

Every single move he'd made back then had been guided by practicality, with the only real goal in mind being that of his own survival.

His first kill had been much the same.

There'd been a shatei of one of the local yakuza Clans who liked to linger in Kisuke's preferred areas of operation.

A yakuza little brother with a taste for little brothers of his own.

And he was particularly fond of Kisuke with his exotic blond hair and his captivating eyes.

He'd tried to come across as friendly, as fun and harmless.

But Kisuke had seen through him. Had seen through that intense sort of friendliness he'd exuded and right down to the hungry sort of emptiness that lived beneath it.

He'd seen through it but he'd still allowed himself to be lured in. Had taken the food and the snacks, the money and the headpats that made Kisuke's teeth itch. Had allowed himself to be pulled in closer and closer.

And then, when the time was right, Kisuke had struck.

Like a spider finally pulling on the razor-silk threads he'd woven, trapping prey that had firmly believed itself to be the only predator in the room.

Killing the man had been equal parts work and luck for Kisuke. For all of his planning, he had been only ten and whipcord lean with hunger at the time. But he'd also been quick and clever and had possessed a survival instinct that his year on the streets had done nothing but sharpen to a razor's edge.

So he'd been just a bit battered at the end but he'd gotten the job done, leaving the man limp and empty-eyed on the bed of the back alley love hotel he'd finally "coaxed" Kisuke into visiting with him.

Emotionally? Mentally? Killing that yakuza had just made sense to Kisuke. He'd been eliminating a threat. Disposing of a danger to himself and the other kids who roamed the back streets and alleyways.

Stealing his wallet and knife as well as anything useful out of the room itself but leaving the man's recognizable, identifiable, jewelry behind had all been practical choices.

Come to find out, killing pedophiles and other sexual predators that haunted Kabukichō ended up being fairly lucrative as well.

So, in Kisuke's opinion, it was only practical that he kept doing it.

~~~

Kisuke had operated like that for years, doing what he needed to do to survive, practicing his particular brand of pragmatism, right up until Yoruichi-sama had found him mid-kill and, instead of turning him in, had chosen to take him under her wing.

Yoruichi-sama had cared for him, had fed his mind as well as his body, and had allowed him to flourish and grow.

And she'd taught him how to refine his skills and then how to put them to use for the benefit of herself and for the Shihōin Clan as a whole.

He'd stayed by her side, had killed and heeled at her command like the loyal dog he was, for years.

Right up until he'd finally overstepped.

~~~

Hirako-sama had demanded Kisuke's head for what he'd done but Yoruichi had managed to talk him down to banishment and stripping of all Shihōin Clan protections.

Kisuke likely could have avoided such a thing if he'd agreed to Yoruichi-sama's suggestion to perform yubitsume but he'd refused.

Kisuke was more than capable of feeling regret and remorse no matter what the majority of the Shihōin, and Yoruichi-sama's little bee in particular, liked to whisper about him.

The fact of the matter was that he simply didn't regret killing Aizen Sosuke.

Kisuke had been one of the rare few who'd disliked the accountant, who'd never been drawn in by his charming smiles and his soft, slightly bookish persona that was somewhat of a rarity in their world.

Kisuke had known better.

Aizen had been a threat. Just another empty-eyed predator of a breed that Kisuke had no patience to deal with.

Kisuke had been content to keep a watch on him but to mostly ignore him, had managed to do so for years as a matter of fact.

Until he'd happened to see Aizen interact with young Hinamori Momo.

It had only been practical for Kisuke to do what he'd done after that.

Performing yubitsume and losing a pinky finger in remorse would have been an entirely empty gesture that Kisuke had no interest in.

In the end, Kisuke had chosen banishment instead, unwilling to have Yoruichi-sama fight for him any more than she already had.

He'd packed up what little he owned, taken his accounts and the hefty deposit Yoruichi had refused to take back (a severance package she'd said with that wry tilt to her mouth) had left.

~~~

He'd wandered for a while. Spent some time in Okinawa and Yokohama alike. He'd drifted from place to place and had even, for a brief while, considered making his way to the mainland.

But then, when he'd been spending some time in Kyoto and contemplating his next move, Kisuke had run across something that had changed everything.

He'd been sprawled out on a futon in the private suite of the inn he was staying in, scrolling through his phone and enjoying the calmness and solitude that came hand in hand with it being the off-season for tourism, and lamenting his inability to sleep.

Insomnia was truly one of his oldest companions. It had been born from the days when sleeping, when letting his guard down that far on the streets, wasn't safe and it had stuck with him throughout the rest of his life, coming and going in random spurts as he grew older.

Finally, just a bit frustrated, he'd dropped his phone onto his chest, autoplay turned onto the ASMR he normally used. It, like most other ASMR videos he'd tried over the years since he'd been introduced to the concept, only worked about 33% of the time but it was better than nothing.

If all else fails he can meditate for a while and contemplate his next move. He'd just arrived at this inn the night before but he was already feeling restless. He hadn't been able to stay in one place for longer than a few days since he left the Shihōin. Nowhere had felt right, had felt secure and comfortable enough to settle down in for longer than that.

The video that he was listening to, a soft murmuring voice reading from one of the latest scientific journals Kisuke enjoys, ended and there was a moment of silence as the next loaded.

"Top 10 Most Romantic Shakespeare Sonnets," an unfamiliar warm and husky voice murmured from Kisuke's phone then. "Sonnet 18. Shall I compare thee to a summer’s day? Thou art more lovely and more temper-"

Kisuke abruptly went rigid, hair standing on end and senses electrified.

"Rough winds do shake the darling buds of May," the voice continued softly, soothingly. "And summer’s lease hath all too short a date."

And then, just as quickly as the tension came, Kisuke's spine abruptly melts.

By the time the voice has made it through the first seven sonnets Kisuke is deeply asleep.

~~~

Kisuke wakes up the next morning feeling more refreshed than he can remember feeling in years, if ever, with his phone dead and that voice still somehow ringing in his ears.

He only lets his phone charge enough to be able to turn it back on before he's pulling up his account and going through his history to get back to that video.

He likes it and even goes ahead and subscribes to the account that posted it. StrawberryProtector is kind of a cutesy name for an ASMR account with such a voice but Kisuke's absolutely seen weirder.

It might have been a fluke but Kisuke's enough of a lover of science that he's willing to give the channel a try tonight as well.

~~~

Only no, as it turns out, it's not a fluke.

Kisuke's gotten the best sleep of his life this week and it's all thanks to StrawberryProtector's absolutely delicious voice.

No matter what the content of the video is, from more Shakespeare to Takajo to various other poets and once even a cookbook, Kisuke finds himself relaxed and drowsy within ten minutes.

He's more than a little obsessed.

And it's not like he has much else to do these days.

So it's only practical that Kisuke pull out his laptop and do a little bit of digging.

~~~

An hour and a half later with Kurosaki Ichigo's life spread out on the screen in front of him, Kisuke knows that he's in love.

Looks like his next stop is going to end up being Karakura Town.

[compassionatereminders]

hi Kat I've been following your blog for about a year now and reading your blog helps me so much in small and significant ways! you don't have to respond to this but I had a bit of a revelation/world of thoughts unleashed and I don't really have anywhere to go with this? thanks for lending an ear

I watched a psychologist talk about how narcissists make a big deal out of their birthdays. For the last few years I've really come to dread my birthdays, mostly because I felt so awful about receiving any kind of attention on my birthday and I didn't know why. at best, I concluded that it was because I had a lot of bad birthdays, but even then...I didn't know why my anxieties seemed so severe.

I think if my narcissism about my anxieties on getting validation on my birthday went unchecked I would have turned into one of those people who can never be pleased and constantly just setting myself up to have "ruined" birthdays. I felt really awful about feeling disappointed or upset on my birthdays so I specifically asked my friends not to make a big deal out of my birthday during my last couple of birthdays.

I believe now that it's because I grew up with a narcissist who would go out of their way to make me feel bad on my "special" day. Consciously or not, they likely felt a need to ruin a moment that wasn't centered around them and because I was around them so much they'd constantly fill my head with negative thoughts on my birthdays. I think I would have to literally get away from people on my birthday to not feel triggered because there's an ongoing "joke" that my parents always forgot the date of my birthday and for the first 5 or so years of my life I was celebrating my birthday on the wrong date (my parents are narcissists too). The narcissist in my life always brings it up on my birthday and uses it as an opportunity to walk down memory lane on how awful my parents were, and for my birthday I don't need that. I understand this is still something I have to work on (yay, time to get with my therapist about this!), but I feel better that I was right to suspect that my anxieties over a seemingly simple birthday stemmed from something not right.

I was tired of getting upset that people just wanted to tell me "happy birthday", but I understand it comes from a childhood of every birthday having been spoilt and so I expect all my birthdays to be like that. I know now that the narcissist will likely continue to try to ruin my birthdays so I just have to remember not to feed into their BS and simply go on with my birthday. I also don't need to spend my birthdays thinking about the bad ones. Hopefully, for my next birthday I will manage it better. And seriously, I don't like to fret over my birthdays but I am seeing where the anxieties stem from and it feels like I can actually see it with much more relaxed vibes

I'm so sorry that you've been surrounded by people who don't value and respect you like you deserve to be valued and respected, but I'm gonna have to question your use of the term narcissist. Narcissistic isn't just another term for abusive or toxic or self centered. Narcissistic Personality Disorder is an actual clinical diagnosis which actual people suffer from. And every time you call a shitty person a narcissist, you're strengthening an association between abuse and mental illness which isn't actually there. People with NPD usually developed NPD as a result of trauma and neglect, and it truly isn't fair to group them in with every shitty individual you come across. So the next time you wanna vent to me about the people who hurt you, please just call them abusers or assholes or any other term which doesn't further stigmatize an already stigmatized mental illness.