#depression household

[theboyofalltime]

I think. I might go down to the landing to take all the trash out myself because nobody else wants to. (Even though I’m in a flair up, am falling ill and my body is so fucking weak. And the coldness is making my joints become weak slow and stiff once more. Tis the season for sore sensations falalalalalalalAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA.)

[cats-healing-diary]

I have my father's rage inside of me. And it's getting bigger and bigger, I can't stop it this time. It's killing me, I don't wanna turn into him, I hate this man sooo much, he has ruined my life.

[chickennuggetslover143]

i just wanna move to a new city and start a new life

[hatred-rage-and-repression]

Deep down I wanna be worse because I deserve it... I don't wanna be happy, safe, or loved. They are such alienated feelings to me... I deserve to live a life full of misery, because I am evil.

[serpentface]

Don't get too attached

[imtraumatizedsblog]

[angelmush]

starting to feel my enjoyment of cooking seeping back in after a long period of intense burnout that had me really slogging along preparing meals with gritted teeth for a good month there. i credit the return of this spark to the much needed break i took on our 3 day vacation that resulted in us eating solely theme park food. while delicious, in all its greasy overpriced glory, i found myself missing the kitchen. so last night for dinner i made heavily spiced chicken wings with crushed peppercorns and garam masala that rendered slowly in its own fat while roasting in the oven, resulting in flavorful charred crisp skin and a really juicy bite. we picked them clean over steamed rice with lime and scallions. i also baked a loaf of marbled pumpkin and dark chocolate bread yesterday for my neighbor as a thank you for doing me a favor last week. it looked delicious. the crumb was tender and plush and velvety, the spiced ginger molasses pumpkin batter swirling alongside the bitter dark chocolate espresso batter, with puddles of dark chocolate bubbling across its top. it looked so lovely i whipped up a second one for us to have for ourselves that's in the oven now, i think it could be a really good breakfast pastry for us this week.

[kissesbeneaththescars]

🎉🎉 I WISH I WAS DEAD 🎉🎉

[piscesthepoet]

i promise

trying really hard to stay alive recently ngl

[yuesya]

I’m glad there’s SOMEONE in the Gojo Clan in the Cursed Twin au that is horrified by what they did to Shiki, AKA Shiki and Satoru’s mom.

What happened to her in this AU, if I may ask?

Muneyoshi tries to delude himself he did the right thing and before finding about the situation in one of your shorts, he is proud because Satoru is an outstanding genius and thinks they all did the right thing, but how did his wife - who actually loved Shiki and was horrified by this filicide - act towards Satoru throughout the years? Does she learn of Shiki before Muneyoshi does? Does she help Satoru hide Shiki from her husband in the early years? Did she eventually give up and also quietly followed the Gojo’s actions in raising Satoru as the genius Six Eyes? She dead?

I know this AU isn’t exactly the AU for fluff and unicorns, but is there absolutely no ray of sunlight in the shithole that was the Gojo Clan?

Gojo Hina knew her role:

To be the model wife of Gojo Muneyoshi, and the perfect mother to their future children. As far as marriages went, Muneyoshi wasn't the worst man she could've married. Sachie's husband was a high-ranked clan member with a penchant for drinking, and she's seen the bruises that Midori's husband left on the unfortunate girl's body. Even helped Midori apply herbal ointments, and bandage the worst of the injuries.

In comparison, even though Muneyoshi came off as cold and was a quietly reserved man, he was always unfailingly polite and treated her respectfully. He made an effort to portion out time for them to share their meals together, no matter how busy his schedule became.

Hina didn't love him, but she thinks that she could learn to, someday.

Would they finally become a true, loving family? ... It was something that Hina had never dared to hope for, even as a young girl. Her father's position in the main family ensured that Hina and her sisters would be bargained away in arranged marriages that would be advantageous for him. Hina's own mother walked the halls with empty steps and soulless eyes, and the girl dearly feared that would turn out to be her own future, one day.

Otherwise she would... she would...!

...

Fortunately, fate smiled upon her; Muneyoshi was a good man, and Hina was... content.

The first year of their marriage was a series of careful overtures, discrete glances, and all the things that one might expect to see in romantic stories of courtship, except their rushed political marriage had skipped over entirely.

The second year, Hina became pregnant.

Who would the little one look like? she marveled, one hand coming to a gentle rest atop her stomach. Would their child have Muneyoshi's dark ebon hair, glossy like the wings of ravens? Or would they have the lighter shade of Hina's own?

Would they be a boy, or a girl? The Gojo Clan insisted on being traditional, so instead of getting proper checkups and scans at a hospital, women were forced to rely on the clan's healers and midwives instead. Who were skilled in their own rights, to be fair, except it also meant that there was no way of knowing an unborn child's gender for sure.

In a soft voice, Muneyoshi asks her if she would like to name their child. For a moment, Hina's voice catches in her throat.

"'Satoru,' for a boy," she says. The character for enlightenment, and understanding, because Hina dearly hopes for her child to be able to look past the outdated ways of the clan and become someone capable and intelligent in their own right. Able to think for themselves, instead of mindlessly swallowing the views and beliefs of others. "And... 'Shiki,' for a girl."

Yes. The character for awareness and realization, to be discerning.

"Those are lovely names," Muneyoshi's voice is gentle. The way he looks at her is feather-soft, and it makes her cheeks warm with a faint blush.

Then, he tells her about his own childhood. How his father had always, always passed over him in favor of his more talented brothers, how the only time the man had even looked at him was on their wedding day, when their marriage finally brought the man the advantage that he needed to curtail his rival, Takatomi.

"When our child is born," he says, quiet and determined, "It doesn't matter if they're a boy or a girl. It doesn't matter how many more children we have in the future. I... want to nurture them. I won't be like my father. I'll give them all the attention they deserve. The proper resources that they need to grow into strong, capable individuals. I won't let anything obstruct them, or pull them down."

Hina falls in love just a bit more with her husband, at that declaration.

Yes, she's sure of it. Their child will be loved.

"Hear that, little one?" Hina says to her bloated stomach with a smile. "Your father and I are looking forward to meeting you."

There's a responding light kick beneath the palm of her hand. Hina's heart melts with the surge of warmth that rises in her chest, accompanying her child's movement.

Part of her is scared and nervous, because what if she's not a good mother? She doesn't know how to be a mother! And Hina is sure that her own mother is not a role model to emulate for motherhood. Should she just try to do the opposite?

But Muneyoshi will be with her, and his heart is in the right place. Both of them are determined to do right by their child, and Hina will-

Hina will-

"Twins! The girl's having twins, someone call-"

"That's a bad omen, isn't it? The main family isn't going to be very happy that-"

"Blood, she's losing blood, hand me the-"

"Oh my god. The boy. Look at the boy's eyes!"

"That's-?! Report this to the elders! It's the Six Eyes! Finally, another child has been born with the Six Eyes, how many generations has it been since-"

"Don't start celebrating too early, we still don't know if-"

"Wait, what about the girl? The... twin..."

...

Twins are cursed. Better to give birth to a stillborn than a pair of twins, or so the saying went. Because twins come from one entity in the mother's womb, and so they steal from each other. Fight with each other. Twins are cursed, because neither will ever realize their full potential, because they're incomplete on their own.

Hina. Doesn't. Care!

Her children are promptly taken away from her, as soon as they are born. Hina is left struggling weakly on the bloodied bed, to no avail, and the following days are nerve-wracking.

Your son is born with the Six Eyes.

It is confirmed. Your son possesses Limitless! Six Eyes, and Limitless! At long last, the Honored One is returned-

Part of Hina lights up with fierce joy and pride, upon hearing the news. Her son has inherited the prized cursed technique and ocular curse of the Gojo Clan! The first in hundreds of years!

Another part of her remains trembling with fearful trepidation. What about my daughter? What about Shiki?

...

Shiki is dead.

Muneyoshi killed her.

“... Muneyoshi, what did you do?! You monster, you wretched excuse of a husband, give me back my dAuGHTER-!”

How could he?! Hadn't he been the one who'd said that he would protect and cherish his children? To nurture them? To ensure that nothing would... obstruct or... drag... them... down...

Ah.

Is this how it's going to be, then? Satoru was his son, but Shiki wasn't his daughter?

...

Hina walks through the halls of her own home, feeling like a stranger. Rooms that are full of sunlight are now cold and dim. Walking into the nursery room that she and Muneyoshi had prepared for their child feels like stepping into a grave.

Shiki doesn't have a grave. They didn't even have the decency to write her name down in the clan registry! Instead, they just swept her infant daughter's corpse under the rug because they wanted to deny that she ever even existed-

Hina can't-

Hina can't-

She can't live like this.

One night, with shaking hands, Hina forms a noose out of her bedsheets, and throws it over the rafters. Steps on the edge of her bed. Closes her eyes, raises her neck and-

-falls.

Hina tumbles roughly to the ground with a startled gasp, because the bed had moved. Why? How?! She's not drunk, and there's no way that inanimate furniture just moves-

-on its own-

... oh.

Hina stares. A formless cloud of darkness dives under her skewed bedframe before she's able to get a clear view of it, but Hina can... Hina can feel it. There's a connection, from her to this odd cursed spirit -and there's no doubt that it is a cursed spirit; Hina might not be a sorcerer, but she grew up in a sorcery clan. Speaking of, how in the world was there a cursed spirit in the Gojo Clan? To be fair, it had a weak presence and Hina barely sensed any resentment from it, but that still didn't explain...

Hina slowly lowers herself in a crouch, cautiously peering towards the cursed spirit from where it's hiding under the bed. It shrinks in on itself, hiding from her with a wail-

An infant's cry-

Intuition clicks, and the pieces fall together in her mind. Hina trembles. "... Shiki?"

Her daughter. That's her daughter, turned into a cursed spirit by unjust murder at the hands of her father, that's her daughter-

Tears stream down Hina's cheeks as she finally reaches for her child. There's a faint air of confusion that Hina can sense emanating from her, which makes her cry even harder.

But, there's no time to lose.

She doesn't know how Shiki has been able to go unnoticed all this time, but this definitely won't last. The Gojo Clan is a clan of sorcerers, and it won't be long before her lingering presence is discovered, and the last traces of Shiki are erased. And even if a miracle happened and no one found her -how long would it last, once Satoru started training to become a sorcerer? If one day Satoru came back and found a cursed spirit in his home, wouldn't he exorcise it without a second thought? He wouldn't even know that he'd be killing-

Wait.

Satoru.

Satoru.

... Hina knows what to do.

For the first time, Hina holds her child in her arms. Shiki is oddly docile -can she sense the same connection that Hina feels? The bond between a mother and her newborn child that somehow transcends even death? Hina croons softly to the formless mass of darkness, where the silhouette of something that vaguely resembles a fetus can be glimpsed in its center.

She picks up a knife, and brings Shiki to Satoru's nursery room.

... Satoru is asleep. Of course he is, it's the middle of the night. Shiki stirs curiously, hesitantly lifting a messy tendril to reach for her brother, and Hina feels her heart break all over again.

In another world, if we didn't belong to the Gojo Clan. Would the four of us have been... happy?

Hina shakes her head roughly. Now is not the time for any doubts -and so she steels her will.

... Hina is not a sorcerer. However, her family comes from a long line of powerful sorcerers -one of her ancestors had, in fact, been an honored sorcerer who'd possessed both Six Eyes and Limitless. The very same one who'd died fighting the Zenin clan head at the time, one who'd inherited his clan's Ten Shadows... which then led to the family's difficulties within the Gojo Clan for several generations afterwards.

Her family had nursed a grudge against the Zenins. Decided to investigate the Ten Shadows, not only in terms of the shikigami that could be summoned... but also the particulars of shikigami binding. Which, coincidentally, was also related to the binding of cursed spirits.

"Shhh, be good, Shiki," she whispers to her daughter. "Satoru's cursed energy will be enough to mask your presence. Shadows are fragile, and this won't hold forever, but for now... Protect each other. Go, and stay safe in your brother's shadow."

Ten Shadows allowed a sorcerer to call upon their shikigami with no need for any preparations. Other shikigami users needed to pay a price, in order to bind their familiars. As for what Hina was attempting...

Ritualistic sacrifice. It was only fitting. Now, in order to complete this binding, there was only one thing left to do.

Hina tips her head back and slashes her knife across her throat.

[lizzy-calaxio]

Professor

Krile knocks on the door of her professor’s office. The name placard next to the door reads out, “Archon Calaxio, Psychology Expert” No response meets her cheerful knock, she knocks again, a little less confident. She mutters to herself, "She messaged me like, an hour ago..."

The absence of sound implores her to open the door and check on the quiet au ra.

The office is somehow more in shambles than last time she was in here, the emptied bookcases have their contents strewn about the room. By her count, 39 coffee cups litter various placements, numerous half full cups precariously balancing on ledges. Lizzy lies on the floor, unconscious. Books are open and closed haphazardly around the floor, some stained with coffee.

“Liz?”

She finally sees the familiar thick tail poking out from behind the desk. She walks around, and sees Lizzy laying underneath. She tries again, "Lizzy?" The body groans and rolls over, pulling her jacket over her as a blanket. The action causes at least two cups of coffee to spill. Krile sees an unidentified bug skitter under a stack of books. She glances over to Lizzy’s futon, no less than 50 books rest on it in various fashions, with various bookmarks. Krile carefully starts grabbing books from the futon and organizing them onto Lizzy’s shelves.

After the futon becomes cleared, Krile leaves for a short time, and returns with a soft blanket with little black cats on it. She gently nudges Lizzy awake, and guides her to the futon. As Lizzy passes back out, Krile lays the blanket over top of her, and kisses her forehead, then cheek, then lips, “Sleep well, dear.”

She turns to the chaos, and begins cleaning. She hums a light melody as she picks up books. She tries to note if there’s any obvious earmarks, if there are she flattens the paper, and jots the page number and book title down in a list, then puts it away. She does this with countless books. She doesn’t try to bother reading certain books – ones Lizzy wrote herself, usually. The effort of trying to translate Lizzy’s haphazard writing while cleaning is too much for any soul to bear. Hours pass, and the books slowly fit themselves onto the shelves. The floor becomes visible, the desk looks professional again, and the office looks like an office, and not a disaster zone.

Lizzy rolls off the futon, waking with a start as she hits the floor. “Wha, who, huh?” she looks around the spotless room, spying a familiar lalafell resting on the futon she’s just fallen from. She gets up, panics before she glances the list of book spots on her desk, then gets back on the futon, and cuddles Krile as she falls back asleep. As she drifts off, she gives a contented sigh and pulls Krile as close as she can then kisses the back of her head.

[b0amagination]

Tastes of Whumptober: Day 31

My beloveds are here to send off Whumptober <3 It's been a truly incredible experience to not only stay on track with, but to actually complete. I still can't believe I did that. I'll be continuing some of what I started here, just give me a minute to rest my typing fingers <3

Content warnings for: mental health evaluation, mentions of suicide, and suicidal ideation.

Therapy

“Seriously?”

“Come on, Dec. Lay down, relax.”

Declan frowned and reluctantly reclined back on the couch, resting his head against the arm.

“On your back…”

“I could not give less of a shit, Hasan.”

“You can’t calm down when you look at me.” Hasan crossed their knees, settling a clipboard in their lap. “This is supposed to be a therapeutic environment.”

“Therapeutic my ass.”

“Yes, darling? Shall I give it a massage?”

“Shut up.” He pinched the bridge of his nose and rubbed his eyes.

“A spanking then, love?”

“Fuck off, Hasan!” He shot up and bared his teeth, but they ignored his discomfort.

“How often would you say you experience little or no pleasure in doing things?”

“Every single second I have to deal with your sorry self.”

Their clothes rustled and something clinked on the coffee table next to him. His eyes flicked over to see Hasan setting down their belt, the heavy buckle meeting glass.

“Tell the truth and I won’t use it today. Or anything else for that matter.” Well, his attention was piqued but he still leveled his gaze, glowering. “Now tell me again. How often do you experience little or no pleasure in doing things?”

“What kind of things?”

“Let’s say hobbies. Watching television, playing games, and so on.” They were clicking their pen in the silence.

“Probably half the time,” he mumbled.

“Would you say several days this past week, or more than half the days?”

“Picky much? The latter.”

“How often have you felt down, depressed, or hopeless?”

“It’s a little hard to separate my mental health from your influence.”

“Estimate, my dear. You’re stalling.”

He was, but his question didn’t come without merit either.

“Every day then.”

“Do you experience trouble falling asleep, staying asleep, or sleeping too much?”

“Sometimes. Depends how much you torture me.”

“Touché. Have you been experiencing tiredness or low energy?”

“Constantly.” The pen circled another number. “You know I’ve done this a million times before, right? I know I’m depressed.”

“You told me before that you were in remission.”

“Something like that, at some point. I’m not perfect.”

“I didn’t say you should be. I want to understand your state of mind, sweetheart. Have you had a poor appetite or been overeating?”

“Not really. Probably no.”

“Alright. And do you feel bad about yourself? That you’re a failure, or have let people down?” 

“No, Jesus, you just want me to talk about being miserable.”

“Declan.” They raised a brow, flicking the belt buckle. “Truth. Now.”

“...sometimes.”

“Interesting.”

“Don’t interesting me-!”

“Have you had trouble concentrating on activities?”

“Yeah, on weekdays. Always checking the goddamn time for some reason.”

“And how about speed? Are you moving so slowly or so erratically that others would have noticed?”

“That’s a question for you, isn’t it?”

“What answer would you expect?”

“No. I don’t think so.”

“I would agree. And in the past week, have you had any thoughts of hurting yourself, or thoughts that you would be better off dead?”

“I think you hurt me enough for the both of us, Hasan.” Declan crossed his arms and turned away, staring into the cushions. “Circle the one and leave me alone.”

“Do you have a plan?”

“Excuse you?”

“You know precisely what I’m asking.”

“No, asshole. No I don’t. But if you wanna pink slip me, then be my guest.”

“Just covering my bases.” Hasan stood, picking up their belt.

“Woah! You said you wouldn’t!” He shoved himself back into the couch, watching with wide eyes as they threaded it back through their belt loops.

“I did indeed.” They fastened it and picked up the clipboard, tucking it under their arm and tapping it again with the pen. “We’re going to keep that in check, whether you like it or not.”

[novelconcepts]

A guide to being unemployed in a broken world:

Get up! Caffeinate, eat something, feed your pets, listen to an audiobook! If weather-appropriate, hang outside for a bit!

Move around! Do laundry, run the vacuum, empty the dishwasher, etc! Pull some weeds! Mow the lawn! Bask in the temporary relief of productivity!

Get tired! Lay down, tell yourself you won’t fall asleep! Wake up two hours later! Force yourself to eat again despite having zero interest! Read a book or watch some YouTube while the hours slowly drain to nothing beyond your control!

Make art! Stare blankly at that drawing you never seem to finish! Write a few paragraphs, delete a few more! Wonder blithely if you’re ever going to do anything of purpose with your life! Wonder if literally any of this matters in the least!

Remember you still aren’t employed! Spiral down the existential rabbit hole, never once forgetting we live inside a degrading capitalist structure rife with fascism and genocide! Get trapped in the ever-expanding horror-depression that is being one small cockroach in a hellscape that seems only to be getting worse all the while!

Try to talk to your spouse! Fail miserably to clarify your feelings beyond the helpless nihilist cage in which you’ve locked yourself! Find yourself wondering what purpose there is in moving forward until you’re vaguely suicidal and on the verge of a mental breakdown!

Go for a two to three mile run! Take a shower! Force yourself to eat yet again (because good Christ apparently that is never-ending)! Pet your animals! Kiss your spouse! Go to bed the absolute first second you can get away with it and try to forget reality for the next 8-10 hours! Hope your dreams aren’t too weird!

Repeat!

[xan-the-emo-trans-man]

I just called myself out so let me call out the rest of you as well:

Do you actually hate yourself or were you just raised in an abusive household?

ask yourself this question: would you still hate yourself if you were raised in a house with good parents that had a healthy marriage and you had all your needs met?

because Idk about you but for me that answer is no. I don’t think I would if I didn’t have a toxic mom to constantly criticize me and someone I constantly compare myself to. I don’t think I’d hate myself if I never had people tearing me down in the first place

[karlkapri]

― “A Ghost, a Real Ghost,” Randall Jarrell.

Hockey Poetry Post 14/?

(Photo credit: Dave Sandford, Matt Slocum, Len Redkoles, Len Redkoles, Jared Silber, Elsa)

[cats-healing-diary]

I hate my family, I hate all this screaming and shouting, but one day I’ll move out and finally heal. That’s the only thing that keeps me alive these days.