#confidence therapist

[axoqiii]

🦋 whichever path you choose

[uncanny-tranny]

This pissed me off so much when I was younger that now it's flipped on its head to being funny because...

People to me when I was younger having gone, "You can't possibly know you want hormones! Don't you know anything?! You can't just make decisions! You don't know health, you can't diagnose yourself as being dysphoric and needing that!" quickly turned into my medical teams frequently saying, "oh I didn't know that," and even confiding in me that I was their first trans patient they ever saw, much less learned about. How the fuck are you expecting a medical professional to diagnose an issue they haven't even heard of. Trans people really are expected to have a PhD in Being Trans just for the chance to be listened to (without the pay that comes with that education!).

[gingermintpepper]

I continue to be in the foulest of moods so here are some Zeus + Apollo headcanons because they make me happy :)

(Important note: this is largely specific to my original work and is not me making inferences from mythical or historical texts)

Zeus and Apollo spar. Like a lot. Like a lot. A big reason why Apollo gets so good at boxing is because he usually sparred with his father as a young god and getting hit with one of Zeus' punches is!! Not advisable. He focused on becoming fleet-footed to combat Zeus' more solid fighting style which was definitely helped by his dancing. Conversely, Hermes would later develop wrestling partially as a response to Apollo's annoying fleet-footedness in combat.

Zeus decides to tie his mind to Apollo's when the strain of Apollo's visions become too intense for him to handle alone. When Apollo first returns from his exile after slaying Python, his visions are so severe that he suffered from 'time-blindness' where he could only percieve the future and was completely unable to see the present. Zeus shoulders some of that strain until Apollo becomes strong enough to handle prophecy on his own - though Zeus is careful not to give Apollo absolute prophecy lest he get overwhelmed again.

Despite their closeness, or maybe because of it, Zeus and Apollo argue quite a lot. Usually it's banal things like administrative work or squabbling over which of them should get the larger portion of a hecatomb, but they do argue about how prophecies should be carried out quite frequently too. There's a general agreement for Zeus not to bring up Apollo's children after how messy Aristaeus' anointing was (and how angry Apollo was at Zeus' disagreement with his decision to make his firstborn son a god) but the odd occasion where it cannot be avoided is usually when they have their most grave spats.

One of Zeus' greatest regrets is his relationship with Ares, partially because Ares grows up seeing him dote and teach Apollo with his full attention. There is... a lot of himself that he sees in Ares. A lot of Kronos too and the part of Zeus that is a warrior before he is a king has done his best to keep the boy at arms length entirely because of that familiarity with the face staring back at him. It's another of the things he and Apollo have argued ceaselessly about. Naturally, Apollo has attempted to bridge that gap many times and while Ares is still quite close with Artemis, when it comes to Apollo, he is particularly sensitive.

Zeus is the one that ultimately decided that Apollo should never marry. Due to Apollo's love-curse and his already concerning tendency to be overly attached and committed to his mortal affairs and offspring, Zeus decided that marriage would be doom to Apollo's spirit and proclaimed him unfit for the ceremony and its status. Instead of the expected argument, everyone was quite surprised when Apollo merely bowed his head and accepted such an outrageous decision.

[lighthouseshepard]

you have to start being the object of your own desires. you have got to start thinking of yourself as the hottest thing in the room, especially when that room contains just you. the core of the sun broils at about fifteen million celcius and our bodies run at thirty seven and somehow we are just as magnificent. despite the lack of tangible light we cast, we offer just as much potential for life. you don't have to fall in love with yourself but its important to at least try and be friends with your body. failing that you can start with hello. everything beautiful you perceive and long for in other people also exists within you. your carrying capacity for self appreciation is endless. if we had a thousand people clustered together all thinking of themselves as the hottest collection of atoms and bone and dreams, i imagine the sun would have some serious competition.

[kitkat-the-muffin]

It was ME Barry

I was the one who twinkified all the Superman villains!

[remarkable-cat]

[lesbianchemicalplant]

I don't mean to pick on this person, it is true this is a common "boundary", it's just so stark. don't talk to anyone else about how things are going and especially not any problems you're having. this is fine on principle and surely not conducive to anything scary

[aintgonnatakethis]

whenever i see the view of 'always be 100% honest with the medical professionals providing you with healthcare' i just... how much privilege do you have to have to not see the pitfalls with that statement?

i understand 'always tell first responders what drugs you've taken'. but when it comes down to trans healthcare or people who're disabled or have "scary" mental health conditions. do you really think being honest the entire time is safe?

[fedoranon]

I should be working but instead I'm crying about the realization that the kids around me growing up could tell I was struggling even if the adults couldn't, and all the endless yapping at me was actually them trying to reach out to someone they could tell needed help the only way they could reach out, only depression & burnout had me so fried I couldn't remember these people's names even after they'd been reaching out like that for four years, much less hold a conversation. Like goddamn I was my high school's fucking drowned cat haha

What do I do with this info? It's been like 15 years lmao

[dreamtydraw]

Entering depressed dreamty wave era of the month, I’ll excuse myself for being moody, I randomly feel like crying on the floor.

[theking-mustdie]

Cramped

pairing: background Scott McCall x Isaac Lahey

warnings: claustrophobia, panic attacks, mentions of feeling nauseous, PTSD, child abuse, mentioned scratching at own skin

a/n: i am on a mission to bring back claustrophobic isaac. this is my first work ever im open to constructive criticism!! ooc? maybe? i have no idea.

word count: 2,040

Isaac has coasted through his time in the pack without his claustrophobia, or its symptoms, being discussed at all. To be fair, there was hardly a lull in monsters-of-the-week to ever walk up to someone like Scott or Stiles and randomly throw out: ‘Hey! Did you know that my father locking me in a freezer in our basement did irreversible and unspeakable damage to my mental and physical health?’ So he wouldn’t say he minded the lack of communication. He preferred no one pry into his weaknesses or his business that they had no interest in knowing about.

However, there were some times where his panic was simply unavoidable.

From experience, Isaac consciously made sure to avoid his claustrophobia getting the best of him, usually stood next to exits or windows in any room he’s in. He’s not too fond of the unknown.

So when Scott suggested taking a day-trip somewhere after the insane, durach-filled month they had, Isaac reveled in the idea of a break and eagerly agreed.

“Where do you want to go?” Scott asked Isaac one afternoon, spread out on the couch.

“I haven’t exactly ventured outside of Beacon Hills so I wouldn’t even begin to know where to go,” Isaac replied from the other couch, half-asleep. With no threat looming overhead, Isaac hadn’t been as distracted, meaning that his nightmares had come back full force. He tried to keep himself awake to avoid the flashbacks he’d rather forget, but it was only delaying the inevitable. He’d rather not have indulged anyone else with his issues because it’s his burden to bear, and he’s almost positive that Scott couldn’t care less about his personal problems when he had a whole town to protect.

“We could always borrow Roscoe and drive down to the beach. I could use some time outside,” Scott replied after a beat, thinking.

“How far away is the beach?” Isaac asked, unfamiliar with any nearby beaches.

“Um probably about an hour and a half?” Scott guessed.

“That’s fine with me, but don’t expect me to go splashing around in the water like a dog.” Isaac crossed his arms and glanced over to Scott.

Scott laughed, rolled his eyes, and said “we’ll leave tomorrow morning” definitively.

☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆

That night Isaac was able to catch thirty minutes of sleep until he was plagued with images of bleeding nails, metal chains, and impeding darkness before he startled awake. He decided it was a lost cause and tiptoed downstairs to grab himself a glass of water as he tried not to disturb Scott or Melissa. He returned to the McCall guest bedroom and settled on chipping away at his mountain of late work for school.

The night prior Isaac and Scott agreed on leaving at nine o’clock in the morning, so as the clock struck eight Isaac packed up his school work, hopped in the shower, and threw on some athletic shorts that could pass as swim trunks. As he left his room to head to the kitchen and find breakfast, Scott stepped out into the hallway and gave Isaac a small smile in greeting.

If Isaac’s gaze lingered on Scott’s bare chest, no one was there to witness it.

They both ate breakfast while talking about their plans for the day. Scott wanted float in the ocean and relax while Isaac wanted nothing more than to lay on the sand and read whatever crappy books the McCall’s had tucked away in their guest bedroom bookshelf. He needed a good distraction.

As they gathered the needed towels, sunscreen, and other beach items, Isaac began packing Stiles’ jeep that he had left outside Scott’s house the night before. But not without an intimidating threat of death if anything were to happen to it.

After a heated argument about who should get the aux, Scott was playing his music and they were off.

Isaac loved scenic car rides. He loved looking at the trees, houses, people, and anything that caught his eye. He leaned his head against the window and silently tried to fight sleep but eventually dozed off with the roaring of the engine and the rocking of the car acting as a lullaby.

☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆

Isaac slowly regained consciousness, unaware of his surroundings nor how long he had been out for. The first thing he had registered when he woke up was the car right in front of them. He tried to put the confusing, weird feeling that washed over him aside and turned to ask Scott how long he had been asleep.

"About half an hour. We were driving pretty smoothly until we hit the morning rush." he answered. He spared a glance at Isaac and saw the confused look adorning his face. "What's wrong, dude?"

Isaac whipped his head up to look at Scott and offered him a tight smile. "Nothing, just a little tired. I'm fine."

Isaac knew Scott could tell he was lying, but dropped in favor of looking at the road.

As he got a hold of his bearings, Isaac realized that they were sitting in the middle of bumper-to-bumper traffic. He tried to discreetly glance behind the Jeep, to the left, to the right, and ahead without alerting Scott, but a feeling of panic rose in his chest. There was maybe five feet of space between Stiles' car and others at all times.

Isaac began to understand what was wrong with him.

His heart started beating faster and his breathing started to quicken. He attempted to focus on anything else, the radio, the honking in the distance, even Scott, but nothing was working. His anxiety began to rise, and with it, the desperation to get the hell out of the car and off the highway.

Scott let out a frustrated groan, unaware of what was happening in the seat next to him. "We're stuck in here. The people ahead of us won't move," he said, his hand came down on the top of the steering wheel to emphasize his point. Scott turned to look at Isaac and saw that he was slumped over in his seat. Isaac yanked at his seatbelt with one hand, fully shifted, and clawed at the door of the Jeep with the other.

He was officially freaking out.

His exhaustion, bottled up emotions, and PTSD were all fighting a losing battle in his head. Usually simple things like traffic wouldn't set him into a panic attack, but it seemed all forces were working against him. His seatbelt felt like it was suffocating him, the walls of the Jeep were smaller than he remembered, and his werewolf senses were dialed up to ten.

Isaac stopped clawing at the door and frantically looked around the car to find anything that could help put him at ease, but came up short. The cars that surrounded the Jeep started getting closer and closer and Isaac started to use his free hand to claw at his chest, willing his heart and lungs to slow down.

However, before he could do any real damage, he felt his wrist being yanked away from his skin. More terror coursed through him at the confining grip until he realized that it was Scott holding him. His eyes found Scott's and Isaac let out a small, barely audible whimper.

Scott, however, heard it and jumped to do something to help Isaac. They wouldn't get anywhere if they stayed on the highway where Scott had to split his attention between Isaac and the road, so Scott shifted his hand to hold Isaac's as he moved to pull off the closest exit. In about five minutes, they were parked in the nearest diner and the driver's side door was thrown open.

Isaac's state had not improved in those five minutes. He was in dizzying state between reality and that damn freezer. His surroundings were disorienting and he couldn't make out what was real and what his panic-ridden brain was feeding to him. The only thing he could feel was the cold hand that once held Scott's.

He distantly heard the sound of the passenger door being thrown open and his seatbelt unbuckled. Suddenly, someone's hands were on his face as they said his name over and over again.

Isaac's brain cleared enough to register that Scott kneeled in front of him, hands on his cheeks, and repeated his name in hopes of garnering his attention.

Isaac locked eyes with Scott. Before Scott could acknowledge what was happening, Isaac threw himself out of the car and ran to the middle of the deserted parking lot. He squeezed his eyes shut, willing the bile creeping up his throat to return from where it came. The next time he opened his eyes he took a deep, albeit stuttered, breath and looked around. The only person he could see was Scott and the closest object to him was at least fifty feet away.

He collapsed on the concrete and spread his arms and legs out as far as they went. Scott slowly made his way to Isaac, sitting on the ground next to him, but allowing him space.

The pair sat in silence for a while, the seconds ticking by as Isaac closed his eyes and focused on taking deep breaths.

Isaac was the first one to break the silence and turned his head towards Scott.

"I used to be in that freezer until I no longer knew what day it was." Isaac closed his eyes and took another steadying breath. "It didn't matter what I did, because to him, I always deserved it. I thought that by becoming a werewolf all these stupid feelings in me would have stopped. It only made it worse." Isaac talked slowly as he came to terms with his situation alongside Scott. "I don't remember how it started, but I remember every single time. I remember the bandages I wore on my fingernails because I pried them all off at some point or another. I remember the hours convincing myself that I deserved every second I spent in that fucking freezer. I remember the sound of my Dad coming down the basement steps, praying that he was going to let me out before he turned around and went right back up the stairs. I remember him letting me out of that box and hugging me tight, convincing me that he loved me and only wanted the best for me. Sometimes it worked. Most of the time it worked. I didn't know how to run away. I didn't know how to leave because he was all I had. I stayed because I was scared he was all I'd ever have. I didn't want to take the chance that he was right. That I'd be nothing without him."

After Isaac's confession they sat in silence. Isaac eventually sat up to match Scott's position.

"I- I don't know what to say." Scott confessed.

"It's alright," Isaac reassured, "I thought you deserved an explanation in exchange for dealing with me," he breathed out.

"God, Isaac, you don't owe me anything. Why didn't you tell me about this earlier, I could have helped you!"

"It didn't matter earlier. What were you going to do, add my shit on top of the shit you already had to deal with?"

"Of course it matters that you're dealing with this! And alone?" Scott emphasized before taking a deep breath, "I'm not really good at giving words of wisdom, or any advice really, but I'm here, always. I know it sounds hollow, but I'm around whenever you need to talk or rant or, who knows, punch. You don't have to keep going through this alone. That's what a pack is for." Scott reached his hand over to the boy's and clasped it around Isaac's.

Isaac lifted his eyes to meet Scott's and squeezed the his hand in lieu of thanking him, not knowing if he had the capacity to talk yet.

"You hungry?" Scott asked after a while. He released Isaac's hand and got up off the cement, reaching his hand out to help the other boy up.

"Is this place even running?" Isaac asked disgusted, looking at the not-so-nice exterior of the run-down diner.

"Only one way to find out!" Scott shouted, already on his way inside.

[gloriousmonsters]

sometimes i'm like. am i actually a narcissist? just for a moment. then i remember that from the ages of like 12-19 i eschewed all other photographs or more normal forms of decoration to keep a framed photo of myself on either my desk or my bedside table where i could look at it constantly. cuz i thought i looked cute and confident and no it did not occur to me i might like to have a photo of like, a family member or some cool trees or something i just took like 7 years to go huh wait other people don't keep a photograph of themselves on their desks? what do you do when you want to look at yourself go all the way to a mirror??? anyway it wasn't realizing this was unusual that made me stop the photo just got water damage

[lasshoe]

after seeing ted suffer 2 panic attacks and hearing that his dad died when he was sixteen rebecca still never learned what really happened

[joanna-lannister]

made a timeline in my notebook with the main events for the King Jaime AU, took me over 2 hours, but here the result...

[shock-micro]

anyone ever have the urge to put a character in a time loop to see what happens. what sorts of self-reflection and discovery would they do with all that time. what would they try, knowing it's a time loop? would they stay strong? when would they break?

[shamelesslymkp]

me: and how is this functionally different from what i'm currently doing?? therapist: well. repeats the dbt thing me: …therapist i like and respect you but. what does that even fucking mean.