#did you know that having an RSD spiral is exhausting?

[needle-noggins]

didn't get any real writing of the chapter done but that ask game was really fun thanks for playing guys <3

[rum-and-shattered-dreams]

A possible late diagnosis for ADHD and/or autism thing I’ve experienced that might apply to some others (as usual I’m sure someone has talked about this somewhere and I’m not an expert, just an autistic and adhd person sharing experiences but here are the thoughts anyway):

Meltdowns weren’t something I really identified with. Maybe having (frustratingly) little to no emotions and outward reactions. But meltdowns? Not so much. So it was one of those “am I actually autistic?” things for me. (Not that you have to have them to be autistic. It’s just that, in my mind, other people are allowed and not me.)

Except now I think I do have them, they just look different. (And I think I did sometimes have them at a super young age but learned to bottle them up).

When things, especially social things, go badly in certain ways and especially if there’s some sort of sensory ick present, I get prolonged “can’t sleep and no amount of meditation, breathing exercises, or meds helps and this is crippling my ability to be functional despite being able to outwardly look functional” anxiety. Then I spiral because what is wrong with me? Why can’t I just handle this like a “normal” person and move on in a reasonable amount of time?

Because it’s a repressed meltdown. It’s knowing that I should not explode in some way at any time and have internalized it so much that I actually can’t explode even if I want to so it’s just going to fester as anxiety and insomnia and RSD and unbreakable rumination while I outwardly just keep going until I burn out.

And in this already prolonged burn out it looks like not being able to even appear outwardly functional anymore. It’s crash in front of a video game because I can’t actually sleep or rest with the anxiety/thoughts and I’m fully incapable of doing anything else because of exhaustion to the point where it might even be dangerous for me to try to do certain things.

Anyway… just thought I’d share in case anyone else might think they’re not having meltdowns but it’s actually just that they look different for you.

[captaincravatthecapricious]

In Which I Project

Jon has some sort of neurodivercence and it is making work hard.

@janekfan

cw Jon is really really getting down on himself about what his brain is making hard, so cw for that and internalized ablism relating to things like rsd and executive dysfunction.  Jon also takes this out on his coworkers, because that is how Jon can be.  This chapter is a bit heavy with a hopeful end. If there is a chapter two, it will have a lot more fluff, promise.  (The reason Jon doesn't have a diagnosis is because I am projecting and I am not 100% what all is going on in my brain, this is just my experience.)  Also mentions of alcohol and food.  

Fuck.  Fuck.  Fuck.  Fuck.  

Why is he like this?  Why can’t he just fucking be a normal, functional person. Why does his brain behave like a backed up, broken drain.   He can’t think today.  

He’s been staring at his computer since 6:30 this morning.   He’s been here eight hours.  And it isn’t like he isn’t getting anything done.  But it’s not what he meant to do.  

He was going to check his email, record a statement, do some filing, check Martin’s work, then do some follow ups and check his email again before going home.  

Well.  He checked his email.  Then he noticed a flaw in what he filed yesterday so he had to fix that.  Then the loo was out of toilet tissue and he had to go chase down that, because the building’s maintenance tends to skip the Archives half the time.  (Which is usually fine because it’s used by four fairly neat people, but doesn’t help when they run out of things).  Then Elias had requested a meeting.  And that sent Jon spiraling because he wasn’t supposed to have a meeting today.  That was supposed to be tomorrow and while it’s nice that he doesn’t have to do that tomorrow it threw off his whole day and now he just feels like he’s going to cry or pass out or break his jaw by clenching it so hard.  

He can’t do it.  

He tries to make himself record a statement.  He does.  

But he can’t open the file.  

He can’t.  

He wants to scream in frustration.  Which, of course, is when Martin walks in.  

Jon doesn’t mean to yell.  He really doesn’t.  He doesn’t know where this vitriol comes from.  Was he always like this?   He doesn’t even remember what he says, just the acrid taste of bitter words on his tongue.  

When Martin flees, he tries to open the file again but the color and whine of the lights breaks down on him and his dragging fatigue.   

He tries to loosen his jaw.  Wiggles it side to side.  It pops, but ultimately goes back to tense.   It’s starting to give him a headache.   

He can’t do this.  It’s barely lunch.  He’s gotten nothing done.  

He tries to open this statement.  

He opens his email instead.  

The library wants his books back.  

He’s tired.  He means to gather his books and bring them up, but he ends up cleaning his desk and making notes on half researched statements he forgot about yesterday.  

That puts him off balance.  He hates not finishing.  It makes him feel on edge.  Like the world is going to drop from below his feet at any moment.  Like, in forgetting, the world has already dropped from beneath him, and he’s been walking on empty air and delusions.  And if this has already happened, how can he be sure it didn’t happen before.  

He finishes cleaning and files the loose statements away.  

He finally remembers to drink some water.  

He rubs his eyes against unshed tears and exhaustion.  It’s too bright.  Too loud.  

He takes his books up to the library.  

Hannah in the library tells him to remind Tim to return his books, she he does that.  

Jon is.  Edging towards …probably a nervous breakdown, if he’s honest with himself, by the time he stands before Tim’s desk.  

And Tim isn’t going to relinquish his books without a fight.  

“You can give Martin a rest or I’ll tell Hannah that you lost her books.”  Tim crosses his arms.  

It’s reasonable, Jon knows.  He’s behaved childishly.  This is more than warranted.  But, unfortunately his brain isn’t working.  He’s caught up in the disappointment in Tim’s tone, and again, the floor drops from beneath his feet.  Stomach dropping.  He tries to convince himself that, no, Tim doesn’t hate him.  All he as to do is agree or apologize which he should do anyhow.  But.  But what comes out of his mouth is something along the lines of, “Tim, I’ll thank you not to try to run my department.   This is hardly professional behavior.  Who do you think Hannah is more likely to believe?”   

This wouldn’t have been so bad, if not for the force and anger in his tone.  Misplaced confusion and frustration and exhaustion.  

He turns on his heel before Tim finds the words to argue.  

This is it.  

He’s ruined everything.  

Tim will never talk to him again and Sasha won’t either because he was rude to Tim.  And of course Tim’s mad at him because he was a prick to Martin.  

It’s all his fault.  He should have been able to stay on task.  He’s an adult, damnit!  

He finally opens the file but he hitches a sob before he can squeeze the introduction out of his tight jaw.  

He can’t do this.  

He can’t do this job.  

He can’t sleep at night and work all day.  Can’t even feed himself or get to the store once a week.  

How the fuck did he make it through school.  He’s a worthless mess.  

Georgie knew it.  

He wants to scream.  

They’re talking about him.  They must be.  That shouldn’t matter to him.  He’s their boss.  Besides, he was right even if he was rude about it.  Martin does make irritating mistakes.  He could have been more professional about handling it, but he still had to say something.   And Tim.  Tim had no right to bargain that way.  He has a responsibility to the library, and trying to use it as leverage against Jon is ridiculous.  

But at the same time.  There are the closest he has… had to friends.  Tim was his friend.  Right?  

Had he made that up too?  Has some memory of some earlier misdeed fallen out of the torn hole in the pocket of his memory where he looses things like hours, tasks, sleep, meals, meetings, half-finished statements on his desk.  

Why is he like this?  

He gets some more work done.  But none of the stuff on his list.  

He tries to make himself read the statement, again.  But he doesn’t.  

It’s late.  He’s left with lingering taste of disappointment and discontent.  

Today’s been a wash.  

He looks angrily at his scribbled to do list on the neon sticky note, from the stack Tim gave him back in Research.  Nothing’s been crossed off.  Statement has been circled twice.  He rubs at his eyes.  Tries to wipe away the tension headache.  Remembers to take a drink of water, finally.  It’s been hours.  It does help, a little, soothes some of the anxious desperation and crushing despair.  He wonders how much of it would be soothed if he got himself a hot meal.  How would it compare to the relief of finished that statement.  

But…. he won’t be able to go home and sleep if he doesn’t finish, because he won’t be able to relax until he gets it done.  

He allows himself 5 minutes to cry.  He sets a timer.  

It doesn’t help.  Doesn’t even offer the release he’d been hoping for.  

He dries his eyes with his sleeve.  

He reads the statement.  And scolds himself for taking all day to get to it.  It wasn’t hard.  It wasn’t even that bad.  It was a foolish statement that reeked of mischief and falsehood.  And he wasted his whole day avoiding it.  

He cries again, then.  No timer.  

He leaves his office.  He’s finally done with the day.  It’s edging on 21:00.  He feels like shit.  Of course he hadn’t brought a lunch, why would he have enough brain cells to do that?  He did make a halfhearted attempt at breakfast.  But that was a lot of hours ago, and he’d barely managed a few bites before his anxious stomach had stopped him.  He doesn’t feel hungry now, but he knows he is by the shakiness if his limbs, the over-lightness in his head, the irritation at himself still thick in his veins.  

He still has to get himself home.  

Then he hears footsteps on the stairs.  He thinks about going back to his office, but the idea of going back in there makes his head spin.  He’s spent too long in his office.  Christ, he just wants to sleep.  Just wants to be in bed without having to get home and make dinner or order dinner or shower or get in bed.  He just wants to be there.  Just wants to be there and sleep of eternity.  He angrily brushes away a stray tear.  

Of course, it’s too late now to try to hide, and eh certainly can’t hide how rumpled and tear-stained he is.  So he stands there dumbly, some archaic part of his brain reasoning that if he stays still, maybe no one will see him.  

Tim sees him.  Tim is laughing on his phone, pleasantly buzzed, and fumbling for the jacket he most likely forgot before going for drinks.  At least it’s still fairly early.  At least Tim still cares enough about his job to wrap it up at a decent hour.  He spots Jon, and hesitates.  Jon doesn’t look like he’s doing well.  He trails off mid chuckle.  “Sorry Sash, I’ve gotta go.  I’ll talk to you later, yeah?  Had fun tonight.”  

What does he say to Jon, who’d been a right ass earlier.  Jon, who is now teary and frozen, staring at him with exhaustion and mortification.  

He makes a decision, making a conscious choice to make himself smaller and softer.  “Hey, come back to mine, I’m going to buy you dinner.  As my boss, you’re a prick, and I haven’t forgotten that.  But as my friend, you need a curry.  Maybe we can sort out my asshole boss and my upset friend at the same time, yeah?���

[starrypawz]

fajkhsg the CHOICE. Gerry/Nemo, #23: now-or-never kisses?

Small Details for Fictional Kisses

AO3 This fic is set after this and the events of these two might help provide extra context

Notes for: Tense conversations/arguments, references to anxiety, rsd and maladaptive emotional coping mechanisms in general, Mary Keay being Mary Keay, use of the word bitch as an insult

He’s not here.

(And more importantly she’s not here)

Nemo chews their lip. They sit on Gerry’s bed in his room that’s tucked into the attic of Pinhole. Where Nemo takes some weird comfort at the sight of the unmade bed, a pair of boots that appear to have been haphazardly kicked off near his wardrobe and other signs of the organised chaos of his room and general signs of life especially when taken in contrast to the eerie, sterile darkness of the parts of the house Nemo has glimpsed.

He’s not here, maybe they should just slip back out the house and no one would be none the wiser.

He’s fine, right? He’s fine. He would’ve called if he was in trouble right? But what if he’s unable to get hold of me and in trouble what if… what if…

Nemo swallows as they do their best to dislodge the thoughts that are threatening to take a spiralling turn from ‘a bit windy’ to ‘Michael Fish misreporting a hurricane’. But they’ve proven increasing hard to dislodge over the last couple of days.

(Or why else would they have run onto the first Morden bound tube they could find and risk running into her)

There’s footsteps.

Nemo tenses.

Sound like boots.

Which is… slightly reassuring? But it’s not enough it won’t be enough not until…

They stop for the moment and Nemo swears they hear something suspiciously like an exhausted and more worrying pained groan and any reassurance that had slipped into their mind goes right out the window.

A few more steps and…

Gerry blinks a few times as he braces himself on the solid wooden bannister at the top of the stairs into his room and then snorts.

“I know this house is fucking creepy,” He chuckles weakly, “But this is the first time I’ve seen a ghost… a little ghost-”

“Where… Where the fuck have you been?” Nemo cuts him off, tenses their hands as they grip on the sheets but doesn’t move from their spot on Gerry’s bed.

“How… did you get in?” Gerry tilts his head.

“I asked first,” Nemo swallows. “So it’s ok for you to leave doors unlocked?”

It takes a few moments to register in his brain. Both what’s Nemo is referencing (The time he had to pick the lock on the front door of their houseshare) and how exactly they got into the house. (Via the back door, then through the kitchen), then he tries to go for an easy smirk and shrug, “If I remember correctly I said you shouldn’t leave your windows unlocked,”

“Windows. Doors. Same fucking difference…”

Gerry opens his mouth, goes to counter that as he can think of several ways in which there’s noticeable differences between windows and doors but now is not the time.

“I mean it’s a bit different when your mother is creepy enough to make Stephen King consider packing it in,”

He’d expect Nemo to give him a knowing smirk in response, but instead

“Gerry,” Nemo tries for firm but comes off more desperate, “What… what happened?”

Gerry sighs, “Look,” He pauses, “Mum… she had me running all over the bloody place, you know what she’s like.”

“I tried to call!” Nemo’s voice wobbles and Gerry gets the worrying but all familiar feeling that something is wrong, “I’ve been trying to call you for days and couldn’t get you…”

Gerry sighs again, “Phone ran out of charge…” Puts his hand up, “I swear if I could’ve got a hold of you I would’ve, I wanted to but I couldn’t,”

“Phoneboxes exist?” Nemo offers up, with less conviction than they intend. Gerry snorts, “They’re becoming an endangered species,”

Yet again he’d expect a knowing smirk but instead he noticed how Nemo worries their lip and grips the bannister a little harder for support.

Nemo’s staring at him, why why are they staring

“You’re… you’re hurt again,”

“It’s… nothing,” He shrug. He tries to smirk but it agitates his lip (just bruised this time rather than split thankfully) , “Sorry for the cliché but you should see the other guy-”

“For fucks sake!”

Gerry grips the bannister harder (Much to the annoyance of his bruised knuckles) eyes wide as he bites down on a shocked laugh. Not at the swearing, he’s heard Nemo swear enough times since they’ve known each other but the volumecatches him off guard.

“Shit!” He barks in response.

“You…” Nemo bites down on their lip again almost enough to hurt. “I was worried… I am worried… You worry me,”

Gerry sighs and crosses the short distance from where he’s standing to his bed, drops the well used black backpack the floor with a thud as he walks. Finds his legs have started to shake in a way that’s quite a firm warning of ‘Sit down before you fall down’. And when he does sit down it’s harder than he intends as his legs all but give out from under him as he slumps and the bed creaks slightly in protest. (Like Nemo’s it’s not really designed for two) as the last few days seem to catch up with him at once.

“I… I worry me too,” He weakly chuckles out before he can second think it.

“Gerry,”

There’s a weight on the word that almost immediately flips the ‘I said something wrong’ switch in Gerry’s brain which over the years has become fine tuned to a concerning degree.

“You… are you even taking this seriously?”

Shit

Gerry chews at his lip, the ‘I said something wrong’ switch is flipped at the expense of anything else that would kick in to help him solve a problem. Frozen, deer in the headlights can see the goddamn Landrover about to hit him late at night on a country road but all he can do is sit here.

“I’ve been so fucking worried…” Nemo swallows hard, “I don’t see you for weeks because of you having to run around for your…” Nemo tenses, “Complete fucking bitch of a mother. It’s fine for a while, I know where you are, you tell me what’s going on, where you are, you sneak me phone calls and I don’t care you wake me up at weird hours and then suddenly… suddenly I can’t get a hold of you for several days… I know… I know that’s… that your phone ran out of charge, phones run out of charge that just happens sometimes…” Nemo takes a couple of shaky breaths pauses their rambling for a moment, “I’ve been so fucking worried. I risked running into her to see if I can find you and then… you come home hurt and then… and then you try and act like that’s nothing? Like nothing is wrong?” Nemo pauses, shaky little rabbit breaths as they look at him, grey eyes wide as they shake and try and catch their breath.

And then.

Gerry huffs.

“I…” Nemo blinks, “You… I… can’t…” There’s a nervous laugh before they tense, “You… You arsehole,”

“Excuse me?” Gerry manages and it’s probably an understatement to being called an arsehole but it’s all his frozen brain can manage.

“Did you… did you even fucking listen to me?”

Gerry tenses up, and then a differentswitch flips, less deer in the headlights and more charging buck. And frozen fear is replaced with something hotter.

“My fucking phone ran out of fucking charge!”

He only just registers how Nemo flinches.

“I know,” There’s less volume but no less weight behind it.

“Then why are you getting up my arse about it?” Gerry snorts, “Didn’t realise I had to be on call all the fucking time…”

Nemo bites down on a sound of frustration brewing at the back of their throat.

“Didn’t used to be a problem,” Gerry shrugs.

Nemo can’t keep the sound down and groans head in hands, “That’s… The phone isn’t the problem,”

“Then what is?” Gerry feels himself bristle. “I don’t need a minder”

“Are… How are you not getting this?” Nemo looks up through their fingers before they sit back up. Hands tensed enough they feel their nails bite into their palms, “I… I fucking worry about you ok?” Nemo swallows, “I worry about you stuck here with that fucking bitch who doesn’t care about you beyond using you for her fucked up errands, I worry about you getting hurt or worse and not finding out…” Nemo pauses with a shaky swallow their tone having changed from frustration to desperation, for a moment they think about letting their hand breach the space between them to take his hand but stops short, “I worry about the things you have to face alone, that you shouldn’t have to face alone… or just face at all and the fact I can’t just… take you away from all that,”

Gerry feels himself tense, swallows hard, “I…” He pauses, “I… I worry about you too?” He offers up shakily, “I worry about you in that house with those people who don’t seem to remember you exist,” He pauses and does let his hand breach the space between them, cautiously reaches out for Nemo’s hand and they don’t snatch theirs away, “I worry about the fact that you could literally completely slip away from me and I’d never find out,” Gerry sighs shakily, “You know what? These last couple of days where I was lucky to get off as lightly as I did…” He pauses again and squeezes Nemo’s hand, “I wouldn’t have wanted you there, if anything had happened-” He sighs, “All I could think was… I need to get back, I need to get back for you,” He gives a shaky laugh, “I’ve… I’ve you… you know I’m not used to… this-”

“This?”

“Having… having someone around me who wants me there, me just me for me, and who I want to be around. And… I… part of me won’t be convinced this is true, thinks I’m just being strung along in some sort of fucked up joke and that one day-”

“Gerry,” Nemo tenses again as they cut him off, “I… I would never-” “I know…” Gerry shudders, “Just… tell my stupid brain that please?”

“I will not leave you,” Nemo sighs, “I promise, I will not leave you if I can help it,” Nemo chews their lip, “And… I just need you to tell me what you want… from this… us?”

Gerry sighs and offers weakly, “I think me wanking down the phone should’ve been a pretty big hint right?”

Nemo blinks, “Oh that,”

“Yeah,” Gerry gives a nervous grin, “That,”

Nemo’s brain flashes back to the conversation, both of them swimming in a giddy post orgasm haze as they made promises to talk about it the next day which… didn’t happen.

“I…” Nemo squirms a little and Gerry feels himself tense again. Old familiar protocols of preparing for the worst, that want to pick apart every slight change in tone, every subtle movement waiting waiting for the inevitable proclamation of his sinful wrongdoings of his mistakes yet disappointment imminent in three… two…

“Gerry?”

He blinks.

“Do… you want to keep talking about this?” Nemo sighs, “We can talk about it later,” Gerry shakes his head, “And risk it being sat on for another few weeks? No thanks” He tries for jovial but it comes over flat.

Nemo chews their lip, tossing words around in their head but not getting very far, realising it’s actually harder than it seems to pick up the topic of ‘I called you late at night whilst you were wanking in the shower and turned out I was feeling horny as well and well we ended up getting off together over the phone’

“It felt really good?” Gerry manages to break the silence, “Bit weird but… so fucking good,” Nemo chuckles, “That’s… good?”

Gerry gives an affectionate snort in response.

“And?”

Nemo catches their lip, “Also felt a bit weird but so fucking good”

“So…” Gerry sighs

“You meant every word you said to me right? During that?”

“Fuck yes,” Gerry smirks, “That wasn’t a pun…”

Nemo chuckles.

“I’ve…” He dares to reach out, curl his fingers under Nemo’s chin, “Been thinking about you, like that… a lot,” He swallows. He would be more eloquent but…

“I’ve been thinking about you, like that… a lot too,” Nemo parrots with an affectionate chuckle as they lean in closer.

And then Gerry makes a needy little noise that’s music to their ears as he pulls them into his lap, Nemo as always fits and melts against him as if they’re made to be there as he kisses. Gentle, his lip stings a bit but he really doesn’t mind as Nemo kisses back a little harder, their fingers slip into his hair as he holds them close and after a few moments Nemo’s hazily aware that he’s standing up easily lifting them up with him (Gerry’s not totally sure where the energy come from) and Nemo’s legs seem to know to wrap around his waist as they cross the room, kisses deep, desperate and above all hungryand Nemo feels a wall against their back and a shudder runs down their body at the feel of him pressed against them, pinning them, once again aware how small they are against his long, lanky frame and how he’s stronger than he looks. And how this time all that is stoking something deeper, hotter within them that’s flooding them with hazy thoughts about all the wonderful wicked possibilities that could come from this revelation.

Nemo catches his bottom lip and Gerry feels an answering rush something pleasurable against the slight twinge of pain (That he can unpack later, later) as he hisses. Nemo pauses for a moment concern manages to worm through their hazy brain but he gives a biting kiss in response that he hopes clears up the confusion. Nemo’s wrapped around him right, fingers in his hair as they grip and pull and make his head swim in wonderful, downright sinful ways until he comes up for air and buries his face into Nemo’s neck as he pants.

“Now what?” Nemo manages to breathe out. Head also hazy and swimming. “I think… I think we need to get out of here, back to your place,” Gerry mumbles against their neck.

[adhbabey]

i have returned yet again because you appear to be the only adhd blogger without a backlog, otherwise i’d stop annoying you i promise- anyway, do you have any advice about dealing with rsd once you’ve already started to spiral? i did something stupid-

Whats a backlog-- oh wait-- u mean asks?? Im not THAT popular.

I recommend reaching out to your loved ones to ask for reassurance. If you don't have people like that in your life then I would recommend a few things.

To pull yourself out of a spiral, remind yourself that you're not hurting anyone by feeling hurt by others. You're not manipulating them or attacking them, it's completely valid to feel upset.

If you can, please tell whoever, gently, that you feel hurt by what they said and if it's possible, can they reassure you that they don't hate you? Tell them that due to your disorder, it makes it difficult for you to accept rejection/criticism, and you would appreciate it if they could reassure you.

Taking responsibility for your emotions is not the same thing as being overly critical of yourself. Be gentle and kind to yourself. Just because you perceived their reaction to be negative doesn't mean it's always negative.

Take yourself out of that headspace by throwing it out, ask if you can vent to someone, look for a way to creatively vent your feelings, or take time away from the situation, possibly taking a breather outside and listen to music/watch a video.

I would recommend taking out a relaxing app and playing with that if you can. Or playing a video game. #SelfCare is a really nice, calming app if you need to take a break from things.

Ground yourself and let yourself cry, hold a stuffed animal or pillow and let your emotions out. Possibly watch something positive or calming afterwards. Like a kid's tv show with a simple plot. Something that may make you smile afterwards.

Along with the previous one, do some self care. Hydrate, eat something, do something nice for yourself like taking a bubble bath or putting on cute clothes or pajamas!!

Just know your limits. If you're starting to feel socially exhausted or drained, take a step back and take responsibility for how you're feeling. Like if you're in a group call, say you want to head out for the night. Before you crash, notice your limits, and take care of yourself. It helps prevent these situations.

[elyvorg]

Still a Hero - author’s commentary (part ADHD)

Yep, it’s that fic of mine again, the one I still haven’t stopped thinking about even though I published it like half a year ago now. I’m finally getting around to doing a little bit more author’s commentary on it that I didn’t do back then, because these bits involve the idea that Kaito has ADHD, and at the time I hadn’t yet made my post explaining all the reasons why I’m sure of that and all the symptoms of ADHD that Kaito is definitely affected by. For the purposes of this post here, I’m going to assume you’ve read that. Heck, even if you’re not interested in my fic, if you enjoy my analyses of Kaito, please go read that post if you haven’t already! It’d mean a lot to me.

My headcanon of ADHD-Kaito in DRV3 itself may or may not have been something the writers actually meant to drop a million hints towards and therefore may or may not be the official canon “truth” about him. But, since I’m the writer of Kaito in this particular fic, and I did have it consciously in mind that he’s ADHD while writing it, Kaito being (unknowingly) ADHD is officially canon in the Still a Hero universe, because I say so.

(And yeah, I doubt anyone even noticed this. Imagining that he’s ADHD doesn’t change anything about who Kaito is; it only adds an extra interesting layer to why he is this way. All I did was use that to help inform the ways I wrote him reacting to some of the things he went through in the fic.)

Chapter 2 – emotional dysregulation

The second and significantly worse half of Kaito’s self-torturing session, once he snaps and gets uncontrollably, painfully angry, was something I deliberately wrote as being some very nasty emotional dysregulation.

For the first half of this ordeal, when he’s thinking about breaking out on behalf of the kids to prove it’s possible after all, Kaito’s still basically in control of himself. He’s being stubborn and short-sighted and self-destructive and definitely making the wrong choice, but it’s still him making a choice and consciously deciding of his own volition that this is a good idea, that this pain will be worth the end result that he can totally reach.

This stops being the case after long enough, though – and it’s no coincidence that it happens right when it begins to sink in for Kaito on a deep, visceral level just how horribly helpless he is.

At that point, Kaito pretty much just snaps and loses control entirely, getting overwhelmed by a disproportionately-amplified rage that’s really just a defence mechanism for those other feelings that he simply can’t cope with. He drops any sense of the vaguely-rational mindset he had at the beginning that this is going to take a while and only gradually chip away at the frame’s integrity each time, and devolves into a completely irrational THIS NEXT SINGLE HIT WILL DEFINITELY BREAK IT. Which, of course, is incredibly counterproductive in that it only serves to make him feel even more weak and helpless furious when it repeatedly doesn’t.

Thankfully I don’t get the fly-into-a-rage kind of ADHD emotional dysregulation that often – but this also means that I can look at the very specific edge cases that do happen to trigger it for me and figure out that the root cause is almost certainly a completely immovable sense of helplessness. I’m not saying this is necessarily the case for every ADHDer who suffers from anger issues, but man does that make for some delightfully convenient personal experience for me to have drawn on when writing this particular scene.

I can also confirm from this experience that what sucks way more than the actual initial problem that the anger is triggered by (which doesn’t even have to be that big of a deal! ADHD loves to amplify stupid tiny things!) is the anger itself once it takes hold, how completely all-encompassing and uncontrollable it is. Nobody should ever want to feel that way. It’s different when you have a cause to be righteously angry about, like Kaito did at the beginning of this scene, but what I’m talking about doesn’t feel anything like that – it just feels ugly and painful and wrong.

Mind you, when this anger first takes control of him, Kaito does also choose to indulge in it rather than fight it, because he’s still stubbornly insisting to himself that any kind of pain is better than giving up. (Meanwhile, in other situations where Kaito’s gripped by this kind of too-strong anger, such as when he might end up hurting someone he cares about (oh hi trial 4), he’d probably be trying to fight it to some extent… but even when he does that, it doesn’t seem like it’s very successful.)

But even then, there’s some small, smothered, barely-acknowledged part of Kaito that really doesn’t want this at all. That part of him begins to feel more trapped by his own anger than by the contraption itself, hating the way he refuses to let up on hurting himself both physically and emotionally and really wishing he could control himself and just stop.

The problem is that the only real way to try and quell this kind of anger is to confront the true (and equally-amplified) painful emotions that the anger is just a cover for. Which in this case would, in theory, result in Kaito breaking down in a huge crying fit over how utterly trapped and helpless he feels. Yeah, no way he's doing that at this point in his arc, so furious self-destruction it is!

Chapter 4 – uncontrollable thoughts

Multiple times throughout the fic, but especially in chapter 4 when he’s attempting to sleep, Kaito tries to just think about nothing at all. He never truly manages it, because ADHD minds cannot ever think about nothing.

(…You know, even as I say that, there’s still a part of my brain going “but isn’t it actually because it’s not possible for anyone to think about nothing?”, despite that I’ve heard that actually that’s a perfectly reasonable thing for neurotypical people to be able to do. Sounds fake, but okay. My brain has never shut up even once in my life.)

The other problem here is the ADHD inability to properly control what we’re focusing on and thinking about. I’ve found that this gets even worse when I’m tired, dulling what little control I ever had in the first place. Instead of thinking about nothing, I just end up thinking about whatever random crap happens to be in the path of least resistance for my train of thought. This can be… not great when it comes to avoiding bad thoughts that it’s easy to spiral into focusing on when left unchecked.

I had this idea in mind a lot for this chapter as Kaito attempts to sleep. Usually, he’d be firmly trying to think about anything but what’s happening to him right now and how he’s feeling about it. When he’s this horribly exhausted, though, he has so much less control over that. So he keeps getting unwillingly bombarded by thoughts about the most immediate physical sensations he’s feeling – hungry, thirsty, hurting – and how much he wishes they’d just go away, even though that’s the last thing he wants to think about.

The whole “someone who thinks he’s strong” thing was meant to be this kind of idea, too. When Takehira says that to him at the beginning, it lodges somewhere deep in Kaito’s mind, because he subconsciously already feels like it’s the truth about him and is terrified of what it’d mean if it was. So naturally, on the surface, he stubbornly files it away as Not Worth Wasting Time Thinking About. But then it keeps popping into his head anyway, usually in moments where his mental defences are weakened, because an ADHD brain does not care what its owner doesn’t want to be thinking about and will nudge their train of thought down those paths whether they like it or not.

(Okay, so maybe all of this isn’t quite so specifically being caused by Kaito having ADHD. Probably anyone who’d been through what Kaito had would have lost a lot of their ability to control what they’re focusing on and thinking about by this point. …Unless the neurotypical equivalent here really would be to just naturally stop thinking about anything out of exhaustion, despite not being able to actually sleep? I wouldn’t know. But my point is that I had ADHD-related ideas in my mind to help me write this, either way.)

Chapter 6 – rejection sensitivity dysphoria

Kaito’s huge sobbing fit over believing he’s failing Shuichi and Maki was something I had very consciously in mind as the absolute worst kind of RSD-fuelled breakdown imaginable.

It might have seemed a bit excessive of me to have Kaito’s emotional pain completely eclipse the actual physical torture for so long – and he was sobbing uncontrollably for something like half an hour, maybe more, before it wore itself out – but, no, can confirm, RSD really is just that fucking awful. Imagine the already-very-legitimate pain of being convinced that his best friends are going to die because of him, but disproportionately multiplied by like a thousand. Next to that, the excruciating torture-poison is nothing.

(Well, maybe this would have made sense anyway, because the fact that the thought of getting his friends killed hurts even more than the torture is precisely why Kaito was obviously never going to break! But that wasn’t actually the main thing on my mind when I wrote it that way; I just realised that it fit that after the fact.)

I also drew off my own experiences of some of my worst RSD episodes (which were still not nearly as bad as what Kaito went through here, and which thankfully I haven’t had that many of) to help me write Kaito’s physical reactions to this kind of emotional agony. I hope I did a good job of getting across what it physically feels like to be crying that horrendously, uncontrollably hard – not just quiet sobbing, but straight-up loud, ugly, inconsolable bawling. In a way, writing it felt almost like yet another kind of torture I was putting him through.

[marshmallowprotection]

Man, I love the Choi twins so freaking much, but when I truly imagine myself in the MC's place, I can't help but question my ability to handle some of the things they go through, especially in Saeran's route. I have ADHD, and from that RSD, which is basically when my brain goes, "Even if it wasn't actual criticism/rejection, here come the tears anyway!"

I honestly think I do a very good job and turning my ADHD into something positive; I make jokes out of the quirks that it comes with, and sometimes I don't even have to try, because things like bursts of rapid-fire questions only for me to answer them myself all within one breath tends to elicit laughter on its own.

But RSD, my emotional sensitivity, I hate it so much. I hate it; I hate crying in front of others. I don't even like it much on my own. I don't care how much people say my feelings are "valid" because sometimes they aren't! Sometimes it's really a stupid thing and yet the tears come anyways even though I don't deserve to cry over that, I don't need to, it's not something to cry over.

...I don't work well under pressure. Under time limits. I freeze up, my brain goes blank. I literally cannot think well until I'm calm, and staying calm can be very difficult. I just... I'm not sure I'd be good enough, strong enough, for either routes, and I know it's not really a big deal, but I can't help but feel a little... disappointed in myself.

I have a better chance in Saeyoung's route; my determination to help him, my stubbornness, could be enough for me to pull through, but I'd probably be so damn hesitant and nervous after his cold demeanor sticks around. Even a quiet, level, but cold, statement such as, "We can't even be friends" would probably bring the tears and UGH I hate it. I hate it I hate it I hate it.

Saeran... that's a special case. And, again, I know it's not a real situation, but I can't help but think about it, and I'm sorry I'm ranting like this, but it just kinda got to me and I needed to write this out kind of in depth. Thank you for reading this far...

Due to a friendship in my past -- my first best friend -- I think I would struggle with him a little. Not so much during his route, although the ADHD and RSD would make that difficult, too. Man... I wouldn't give in, not at all, but you can bet 100% that I would cry at least a little every damn time Suit Saeran came in to verbally torment me. Literally none of what he says would actually hurt me, but just because they're harsh words... And I wouldn't put it past him to actually reach into my insecurity of my ADHD making me annoying and overbearing, because I likely would've mentioned it to Ray once or twice or a million times lol.

But past that, GE Saeran seems to be heavily emotionally dependent on the MC -- no surprise there, but I... My friend. She was like that. Different issues, though: depression, anxiety, self-harm, and eventually suicidal thoughts.

I carried all her secrets, all her problems. I was in middle school. I was eager that someone would trust me so much. I was certain it had no impact on me.

And then it did. And it still does. I took on an... unfavorable habit. I still do it on occasion -- and I do small versions of it everyday. It's a terrible and destructive coping mechanism, but I... I like it.

We had a fight. I told her parents everything. They got her help. I'm happy for her, always still worried about it, but we're not friends anymore. I couldn't take it.

Ever since that, I get cautious around people who show similar behaviours to her -- thinking, I can't deal with a repeat.

Saeran isn't exactly a repeat, and I'd still want to be there for him 100%... but I'm afraid of how it might affect me. I don't know what would happen. Maybe I'd accidentally end up distancing myself from him, or maybe I'd fall back into the position of taking all of his burdens onto myself, as much as he would let me...

I realize Saeyoung would likely also be a little emotionally dependent as well, but I still think I could handle that a little better... maybe... Geez. It's not a big deal now, but... I mean, people like that -- people who are or get emotionally dependent -- exist. And if I meet someone who I really like, platonically or otherwise, and they end up being even a little emotionally dependent, I fear I would unintentionally distance myself, and end up losing an amazing relationship... This is why, I believe, the thing with the Choi twins affects me so much. That, and I know I would really want to help them, but I would struggle with so much feelings of inadequacy... No, I'd struggle with emotional inadequacy itself...

Sorry for this long post, but thank you for reading... ^^"

[417]

There can be a true catharsis in writing out your feelings so I hope that you feel a little better now that you’ve gotten it out. The fun thing about games is that it is allowing you to range outside of your comfort zone and put you on a playing field where you can click things that you may feel too nervous or unsure to do in your actual life! It’s good that you can find comfort in these characters, as well, and I totally get where you’re coming from. 

Here’s the thing, yes, there are hard times emotionally with both of them but do not think for a second that they wouldn’t stop themselves in the middle of what they are doing if you start crying or get upset. Neither of them wants to hurt you or make you cry. They’re both fully aware by the ends of their routes that they’ve got a lot to work on. 

It’s not easy. But, coping and learning how to deal with your trauma in a healthy way takes time. Realistically, the events of the game should happen over a much longer period and that would make it easier to put yourself in the situation and deal with as it comes. Especially with Ray’s Route, specifically. Because there is such a drastic change in his feelings. Falling in love and playing with the line of what he knows and what he doesn’t... that’s a whole thing. 

Yes, to an extent, he leans on his MC. I’ve talked about that before. He’s going to lean on them a lot. He won’t mean to do it but he’s only ever lived his life in the sense that he can please others and do for them. Everyone gave him a reason to be alive and to exist, and now that he doesn’t have that, he doesn’t know what to do and that’s hard. That’s going to be a battle in itself but he’ll get better in time with therapy and positive support from everyone. However, that can be exhausting, so that’s something to take with care. 

Saeran knows that he needs to work on himself and he’ll apologize and work with you when he does that. You just have to be gentle with him and be honest about how exhausted it makes you feel. He’s willing to work with you and take care of this. He wants to get better. He wants to fight for his health. But, Rome isn’t built in a day. If you love him and he loves you, he wants to make this work. 

Saeyoung is hard in the sense that yes, he loves you and he would do anything for you. His issue is that he can be skittish and paranoid. In the events of the SE, he and his brother still have to live with the fact that their father is still out there and could still hurt them. He’s not going to push that fear onto you specifically but it will show in what he does. He sleeps with his back to the wall. He needs to double-check when you go out alone on CCTV. He watches over you and he can get really scared. 

It’s not smothering, per se, but it is something that he needs to work on and very well acknowledge that he is doing. It’s not healthy for him to live like that, but the fear is warranted so that’s hard to fight. He, just like Saeran, understands that he has a long road ahead of him to get better... but he wants to, and the willingness to be ready to fight for yourself is the first step in the long battle. If someone isn’t willing to fight, then it’s not going to work. 

With your own fears, I think they would both be happy to help you work on your own fears and help you in your own battle. Support systems are important, and the Choi boys want you to feel safe and loved too. Fear is fear, but love is love, and it’ll be okay. If you find comfort in them, don’t fear that things would spiral out of control, there will be hard nights, but it will be okay. At the end of the day, you’ve got someone that cares about you as much as you care about them.

It’s about being willing to be honest. 

Being honest is hard, but you have to acknowledge it. It’s something that the three of you can work on together, no matter what timeline this is. Like, to give you a personal example, even though I love Saeran, I would have a hard time myself being there in the physical form. One of my triggers is loud voices, and I would have an issue with Suit Saeran as well even though I tend to try to rationalize anger and fear to combat my anxiety. I can’t control the fact that I cry when people scream at me, though. 

But, I do control how I let it affect me afterward and that’s a part of my personal battle to cope and to heal... and knowing that Saeran is just fighting so hard to control himself and he feels so twisted up, well, I have faith in him even when he is angry and lost. That’s me though, I have faith in people. It’s just good, to be honest with yourself and know that you can find comfort and rationality in that love.