#everything *diagnosed* is well controlled. it’s just all the other shit

[allalrightagain]

I think doctors should have to apply to treat us, and we could post openings like

Are you a hardworking, passionate, and creative general practitioner looking for an opportunity to flex your diagnostic skills? Responsibilities include:

- investigating beyond basic CBC panels

- not ghosting me when my test results come back good

- showing interest beyond basic empathy for new and existing symptoms

- working around medications allergies and contraindications

Nice to have:

- knowledge of complicated dietary restrictions

- experience with cardiac issues with normal echos

- experience with autoimmune disorders and/or mast cell disorders (MCAS)

If you’re excited about this role but don’t think your experience lines up perfectly, we encourage you to apply anyway! You’ll be joining a team dedicated to solving chronic, complex medical issues who are looking for additional individuals passionate about doing the same.

[catatombi]

beware of fang

Hey, im gonna say it outright and state that this is a call out. people get called out for being dangerous. fangs nearly pushed 3 people to commit suicide(including myself) and i had to be hospitalized because of him, so this feels justified. Im sorry if you disagree, ill keep it short and to the point If you’ve been a long time follower of his im sure you’ve seen his vague posts about his ex friends, the cotl tumblr community and “fandom drama” with little to no context behind it, other than various people appearing on his DNI. his vague nature in the posts is intentional, he doesn't want to let on that he was abusing his friends. Ive tried time and time again to write something but it never seemed right, like what he’s done to me and my friends wasn’t severe enough to warrant something like this, but it is and i don't want to let this go any longer, esp not when he has my friends, their names, usernames and literal contact information in his DNI list Over the last year ive been friends with fang hes been horrible. Hes never changed and refuses to acknowledge what hes done to his friends and how horribly he has hurt them, to keep this short im keeping this bullet pointy Here is his carrd, he has everything neatly outlined for yall to block on every platform Dont harass, dont contact. all of this is public information so https://web.archive.org/web/20240713073710/https://fanged-info.carrd.co/#boundaries

https://fanged-info.carrd.co/ Twit: FFANGEDD / narilamb_ / mewhenimsilly Insta: ffangedd / narilamb Tumblr: ffangedd / fanged-cotl / fanged-xeno Cara: narilamb Blusky: fanged / narilamb Itaku: fanged Artfight: FANGED Toyhouse: FFANGEDD Sheezy: fanged Discord & telegram: narilamb All the people mentioned have given consent Cw !!! abuse, suicide, self harm https://drive.google.com/drive/u/2/folders/1MLMOT-qvgrX-9NnUEgpl4AkEPfixy2wG

The drive is a bit out of date, as I logged it all before april. Hes posted more awful shit and vented to me again since then Feel free to request the letter i wrote to him, i might share it anyway because it sums up my thoughts on the matter If you want any additional context feel free to ask

Fang uses suicide and self harm threats to control and manipulate his friends, hes begged me for assisted suicide and when i refused to help him commit he begged in groupchats. He begged on instagram stories as well as twitter, so much so that his twitter for suspended for 12 hours. He has admitted to wanting someone to commit suicide with him and has previously formed suicide pacts and nearly followed through on one with a friend. fang backed out first. he continues to redirect blame. refusing to take accountability for his actions. He still blames his previous medications, his ex psychiatrist, his self diagnosed BPD & OCD, psychosis, and states of beings from disorders he doesn't have (claiming to be manic or sociopathic whilst not having bipolar1 or ASPD) fang blames his (ex)friends, claiming they were projecting their mental illness onto him when they were just reacting to his abuse, that they the ones in the wrong and that how they treated him/cut him off was vile and unfair, and believes that he never got real closure when he did. it just wasn't what he wanted to hear and now feels entitled to an apology from these people when all he’s ever done is traumatize and terrorize them. He describes the amount in which he has cut over pavi, wart and kat because what they put him through and how they traumatized him. The traumatizing actions were: Kat asking for a content warning, pavi didn't want to walk on eggshells anymore and blocked him without an explanation & wart blocked him after being emotionally abused for months Hes described how he would carve their names into his thigh and told me that he will carve my name into his skin when i leave too. He demanded wart and surf choose their “real friends” and cut off their community for him because fang hated that they were being “two-faced” and hanging out with “people who hate him” He would spend hours venting relentlessly and graphically in his friends DMs, demanding their time and attention and expecting immediate replies. His friends are not professionals and shouldnt be expected to be an on-call DIY therapist for him, for hours, without consent. Fang has said he is completely unwilling to self censor for other peoples safety fang has vented to a 13 year old (they were not hiding their age) He referred to me (and our friends) as a phone person, a voice, icons. Concepts he can talk. Completely dehumanizing everyone that cared about him even to their faces. He blames his ex friends for his poor mental health and has said he wishes they watched him commit suicide, he wanted his friends to be traumatized from this (as if they werent already.) When a friend posted a screenshot of a gamenight to tumblr he had a breakdown so severe and so dangerous for so long that several of his friends has to mute the DM to keep themselves safe from his verbal abuse and suicide/SH threats He doesn't care about how triggering any of this can be for someone and will subject anyone (including people in danger) to his “venting” He didnt care about triggering me and contacted me at the worst of my suicidality in january and exasperated the danger i was in so severely I had to be hospitalized against my will before I could commit suicide. 

Im honestly not entirely sure what to even think. he knew the severity of my suicidality. he knew I had been hospitalized for an attempt in 2022, and still he chose me, probably the most vulnerable of his friends at the time to vent that heavily too back in janurary Hes a dangerous selfish person whos proven over and over that hes not getting better and isnt willing to change, i honestly had hope when he slowed down his graphic vent posts and victim blaming on twitter and insta but he decided to say fuck all and get right back into his shit train of shame and misery. Heres a link to all of the screenshot, damning ones are in important bitz if you’re not interested in going through them all https://drive.google.com/drive/u/2/folders/1MLMOT-qvgrX-9NnUEgpl4AkEPfixy2wG in these screens alone he: admits to sending his cuts to his friends, threatens to cut if i leave, admits that he was going to go through with a duel suicide and begged me for assisted suicide

warts screenshots v

full screenshots & complete context in the drive as for him claims that i was stalking him: i was scared, i was his friend. i tried so hard to be good enough and never was. the screens were a by product of confiding in my friends about what was happening and the drive was made to share w/ them i admit i prolly shouldve combed out some of it but, ykno also big phat apology for tagging cotl!!!!! only did bc fang has, please stay safe everyone, and thank you so much if you have read everything (the doc encase anyone was wanting it ! figured i;d just use tumblr regular posting method) https://docs.google.com/document/d/17QjXUEdQVd8c4GZS--vPo-xR3kgmoLl4ZmN3ROMutg0/edit?usp=sharing

edit as of 8:30pm 7/17/24 here is a link to pavi's response warts response and kats response

[alicerosejensen]

Just headcanons with Leon and his daughter who has a chronic illness

Leon x daughter!sick (diabetes, epilepsy or any other severe chronic disease)

√ Hey, Leon carefully guards his child! however, there are not always things from which he can protect his daughter.

√ I see Leon as a very caring father. He will worry if his daughter's knee is torn from a fall from a bicycle and carefully treat her wound and bind it up if necessary. He will also monitor how her childhood injuries are healing.

√ Having seen so many horrors in the world, Leon takes even a simple cold seriously. If the temperature does not decrease even after taking an antipyretic, Leon will prefer to take his daughter to the hospital.

√ Leon hardly knows the symptoms of the diseases, but he noticed an unusual dryness of the skin and the smell of acetone in combination with other symptoms. If his daughter loses consciousness in front of him, it will drive him crazy. All the way to the hospital, Leon will hold her in his arms and kiss her on the forehead or the top of her head.

√ Nevertheless, he will not allow himself to show fear of his daughter. No matter at what age she is diagnosed with it, Leon will be her strongest support. He will learn everything about this disease and his concern will only increase.

√ He is paid very well for risks at work, so the question of money is never acute. Leon will make sure that his baby receives good treatment, which will be corrected by doctors in time and he will repeatedly take her to an endocrinologist and other necessary examinations.

√ Measure your blood sugar level every day and make sure that the insulin injection is done on time? Papa Leon is watching this very carefully. He even keeps a blood sugar control log.

√ Does she need a home education? Leon will study this issue, and if necessary, then no problem.

√ It is important to understand that under no circumstances will he leave his child alone with these diseases. He will never tell his wife/girlfriend to deal with this shit alone.

√ Will take her to all medical procedures.

√ He's such a loving dad. He always convinces his little girl that her illness does not make her inferior. Spends time with her looking for classes available to her.

√ He will definitely not allow his child to be offended.

√ He will turn on her cartoons and lie next to her in the nursery until she falls asleep. Actually, Leon, because of his daughter's illness, can check her well-being even at night.

√ He definitely knows how to provide first aid, but for the sake of his daughter, learn to put injections more carefully so as not to leave bruises and not cause her great pain.

√ Always consults with specialists on any medical issues.

√ Leon will always take care of his child's well-being. This is what he highlights, if nerves or stress affect her health, then he will comfort her and say that no excitement is worth her well-being. For Leon, the daughter is a little diamond, no matter what she is ill with.

√ If a chronic illness is caused by a severe injury (for example, a traumatic brain injury), Leon will literally hate himself for not looking after his child well.

√Again, medications are very expensive, as well as treatment, but Leon is ready to do everything possible so that his child does not need anything. If she gets epilepsy later, Leon will try to always be there to help his baby.

√ Leon will always try to be there. When she is in the hospital, he will provide her with the full care that is possible.

√ It does not matter what kind of disease she has, he will still study the Internet and books studying this diagnosis in order to know better how to help his child.

√ Perhaps his daughter will be banned from playing sports or attending summer camps, depending on how serious everything is, then Leon will try to find a good alternative with her.

√ All medicines will always be at hand.

[idontplaytrack]

good problem to have

Janis ‘Imi’ike x physically disabled fem!reader

Warnings: kind of a vent writing, descriptions of chronic health & physical conditions + symptoms. Light smut, fluff, Janis being soft for reader. This oneshot took a few turns at the end- I didn’t intend on ending it the way I did😂

The following depicts the worst side of reader’s experience with a physical disability and its chain of effects. Reader discretion is advised.

Janis looks at the clock on the wall as though she was having a staring contest with it. You’d been in the shower for nearly thirty minutes and the girl had half a mind to just walk in there to keep an eye on you instead. But she held back, she stays on the other side of the door as she hears the water running.

Half an hour ago, you angrily decided to sit in the shower - a warm, no- hot shower in hopes that the heat would alleviate the squeezing pain in your ribcage caused by your rather newly diagnosed condition of Costochondritis.

Janis was with you the night you ended up in the ER because of it. She watched everything went down and it shattered her heart seeing you so helpless. You didn’t exactly remember what happened because of the amount of pain that you were in- she tells you it was better that way since the doctor practically tried to gaslight you into giving you over-the-counter pain meds and sending you right back home. That was a month ago- and this, was technically flareup number one since that night. She fought for you, because you couldn’t. You actually couldn’t even take in a full breath, let alone open your mouth and form a coherent sentence. Janis’ Mom has been a big help throughout all of this as well, seeing that she even noticed something was wrong unlike your own who barely believed you. “Is she still in there?” Damian arrives at Janis’ with their favourite pizza. And both your homework for the day that you two’d missed

“Ya think?” Janis huffs.

“Is she…”

“She didn’t pass out. I knocked and she responded but she doesn’t want to let me in there.” Janis was just ever so slightly horrified by his assumption.

“Okay, good. Well, eat first.” He shrugs, unfazed by her glare.

As Janis refused to eat first, saying you weren’t back out yet, you opened the bathroom door and walked out. “Fuck this.” You remarked as you shut the door to the bathroom. “My back already hurts because my legs are not the same length, I have fucking scoliosis and now this added on to it? Does the universe want to torture me till I die or something?” Janis seemed unfazed on the outside, but inside she was actually so worried (she wouldn’t admit it to anyone). This never was a good sign, and the damage control needed to be fast. To top it all off, Damian’s never been around to witness such ‘episodes’.

Janis knew you didn’t really mean what you said, it was more so in the moment of anger, frustration and more importantly, the constant nagging pain then random weeks in the year where you would get heightened levels of the pain due to a ‘flareup’. How does it happen? You would have usually have done something to push yourself too much- whether or not either of you have realised it. And full disclosure, a big risk to take would be bedroom activities. You usually did not care until it was too late and end up pushing through the next few days with what feels like your whole body aching.

“Shit, I did not see you here, Damian.” You let out a soft gasp, a hand clutching at your chest.

“I wanted pizza. I sent him a text, and here he is.” Janis grins, “Sit down, lovey.” You did, eyeing the box Damian’s placed on the coffee table.

“I bought our favourite- trust me, we need this.” He joked, “They even gave us free garlic knots.”

“Oh, hell yes.” Janis rummages through the paper bag for some of that bread first while you reached for a slice of the pepperoni and sausage pizza.

“Hey, guys.” Janis’ mom was home. Damian and Janis greet her almost in unison, while you gave her a wave without saying a thing. “How are you feeling, y/n? Any better?”

“Barely.” You revealed.

“You came home to grab your lunch, didn’t ya?” Janis chuckled.

“Yeah.” Her Mom laughs, “Forgot it this morning. You guys need anything before I go?”

“I think we’re good.” Janis answers after pondering for a second, observing you and Damian as well.

“Alright. If your Ma calls the home phone, please pick up and let me know. Some guy at the coffee shop spilled his coffee on her and the phone’s a goner.” Janis’ Mom informed.

“Alright, well- did she back up her stuff?” Janis’ eyes widened for a beat.

“Yeah, but it’s just that she doesn’t have time right now to get a new phone.”

“Oh, okay. Get back to work, I wouldn’t want you to be late.” Janis shrugs, one of her hands on your back as you ate.

Her Mom flashes a smile, nodding, “I’ll pick up Ma on my way back from work, we’ll be buying dinner too. You guys are welcome to join us.” After Damian says he couldn’t— since he’d already promised his family that he’d be home by dinner, Janis’ Mom leaves with her lunch to go back to work.

————

Janis and Damian were engaged in a conversation over lunch, you on the other hand were more focused on whether or not you could make it through more of the day without relying on pain meds. They tasted foul and made you feel even worse- yes, even with the pain gone, the Tramadol gave you pretty bad nausea even after taking an anti-emetic. And you, having emetophobia would rather not go through that.

You were fine- you weren’t gonna collapse or anything, you were just in a lot of pain and physically uncomfortable. It was pretty much all you could feel, especially every time you took in a breath even slightly deeper. “Stay with me till this flareup is over.” Janis announced to you, “Your parents aren’t in town, and your sisters…I don’t trust them to be accountable for you. Don’t fight me on this.”

“Alright.” You agreed curtly, putting your plate containing a half-eaten slice on the coffee table, then you just curled up in a corner. “I’ll finish it later.”

“Yeah, sure, baby.” Janis smiled briefly, mouth full of food. Damian chuckled at her talking with her mouth full, earning a playful shove from the ravenette. You managed to fall asleep with their company, thank god. But when you woke up, it was just Janis alone.

“I made you some tea, y/n. Should help your chest pain some.” She hands you a mug, which you gladly took a few sips out of before putting down. “Thanks.” A warm beverage always alleviates your chest pain- the heat from it helps once you’d consumed it. Since it goes down your throat, it basically kinda just, spreads to your chest. “No problem, lovey.” She sits down beside you, putting the TV remote nearer to you in case you felt like watching something.

Here’s how it was: You couldn’t close a door behind yourself, you couldn’t wear a seatbelt on your own, you couldn’t stretch in any way because it would trigger a sharp pain in your chest. The condition was by definition, an inflammation of the cartilage of the ribcage. Thus, causing the pain. Even a cough or a sneeze would have you cursing and swearing, if not on the verge of tears. Little every day tasks are a huge challenge for you now, and it would be like this at every flare up. You hated that had to rely on her or someone else for such minuscule things. It made you feel useless.

While you finished up the tea, she was eating a bag of chips. It was evident to her that you were still in pain. When you first started experiencing it, you had it for a full week before it got unbearable and you had ended up in the ER. The worst part? Probably the physical exam where the doctor pressed down on your ribs and quite literally made you cry. But it did however, confirm your diagnosis. So you were glad you weren’t just seemed as ‘dramatic’(like the ER initially thought you were) and it made your Mom shut up about those remarks after Janis’ mother handed her the memo from the doctor. “I’m…really sorry. I just feel like shit and very unlike myself.”

“It’s okay.”

“No it’s not, I’ve been such a bitch.”

“Look who you’re talking to.” She exhales, “I don’t care if you’re ‘ruder than usual’, you’re in a lot of pain right now, and you’re someone who’s already dealing with chronic pain from your legs and your scoliosis, whatever else…I get it. I see you going through every day and I don’t care if you’re sometimes gonna be a little snappy. A little grouchy. Or if you’re gonna wanna cry. It’s fair- seeing that I myself, and other people who don’t have to deal with chronic illnesses or pain.”

You quietly listen, closing your eyes while taking some shallow breaths. “I actually feel like dying. If this is what the rest of my life will be like, I’d just be a burden. Well, more of it.”

“Baby, you- oh my God, every day. You’re dealing with symptoms that would send regular people straight to the ER. So whatever you need, let me know. Take your anger out on me, I don’t care. I already told you I would do anything for you.” Janis continues.

“You’re so sweet.” You sniffled, a little too hard.

“Only for you, baby.” She winked, her hand on your knee.

You mentioned, “You know, I got my period while I was in the shower.”

“Which would explain the extra pain.” Janis scoffs, her hand stops at your lower back, giving you the needed warmth. “More hormones…more pain, which sucks, but in the meantime…you wanna watch some TV?”

You declined, “I just…wanna sit here with you.”

“Anything you want.” She kisses you softly on the cheek.

“My whole life, I’ve been the sick child. And now things just got worse.” You said to her while you feel her arm gently wrap around your waist, “I guess some days I just let the worst thoughts get the best of me. When I say I want…to die, it’s just that I want to stop suffering. I can’t focus or do anything when I’m in pain in makes me feel like nothing.”

“I hear you and I got you, okay?” Janis cups your cheeks with both hands, “I don’t understand fully, what you’re going through but I see how hard things get for you and I will always be here to help you- with anything. Okay? And Damian. He cares, I care. We love you. Hm? Don’t ever feel like you’re bothering people - we all need help sometimes and I just fucking love you and would do anything if I could make it better.”

You were already emotional, being on your period, hearing her say all that just made you feel like crying even more. “Honestly, I don’t know what I’d do without you.”

“Here’s one thing you need to remember in times like these- I will be here for you, no matter the time of day. Call me, or text me. Whatever. But I will always, always have time for you.” Janis had her hands in your own, kissing them.

————

Now it was after dinner, so her Moms were in their room. And you, were in Janis’ room with her. You were laying down, your head in her lap as she massaged your aching head. “Janis.” You looked up at her. She glances at you, “Yeah?”

“You know how they say sex would help with cramps?”

“I heard.” She responded nonchalantly.

“Can you help me?” You asked straightforwardly after a brief silence.

“I can, if that’s what you want. But you’d definitely be in quite a bit of pain afterwards, everywhere else.” She raised a brow, a hand on your torso.

“I’m already in pain. Might as well make myself…feel good.” You sigh.

“You’ve got a point.” She hums, “I can definitely help you out. Just gotta go grab some towels.”

“You really don’t mind?” You asked her cautiously.

“Yeah.” Janis confirmed, “I have hands, I have vibrators…some blood’s not gonna scare me.”

You chuckled, “Okay. Ah, shit. That hurt.”

“Just…lay down and look pretty for me.” She winks, slowly shifting you onto the mattress fully so she could get off the bed and retrieve the towels.

After locking the doors and washing her hands, Janis lays the towel beneath you, carefully leaning down to kiss you while holding herself up on her palms. “You can stop me at anytime, alright?”

You nod, kissing her back. She began stripping each article of clothing off of you, carefully, watching your face to make sure she doesn’t hurt you. You kiss her this time, starting to feel your need for her grow rapidly. It really does not take you long when you were on your period. She stuck her tongue in your mouth, it exploring every little bit of it eagerly. You moaned into the kiss soon enough, and she takes it as her cue to do more. The back of her hand brushes over your nipples, the whimper you let out and expression on your face tells her they were way too sensitive. She leaves them alone, choosing to attack the known sensitive spots on your neck instead. She elicits the sounds of approval out of you extremely easily, as you feel the familiar rush between your legs. Reaching for a small bullet-shaped vibrator, she turns it on and presses it to your clit gently. You gasp, eyes nearly rolling to the back of your head as you got giddy with pleasure.

“You’re okay?”

“Still good.” You let out a strained reply. She breaks away from you completely, getting off of her bed. Then, she pulls you down to near the edge of the mattress, along with the towel. Grabbing your ankles, she was knelt on a rug, pushing them up as gently as she could, mindful about your hurting right hip. She’s never done this before, but you trusted her with your life. So you went with it. You feel her fingers tracing the stretch marks on your thighs, making you squirm because you were ticklish. She kisses you on your inner thighs several times before you felt her fingers teasing your folds. You whimpered, feeling her so close to where you needed her the most. She held your ankles together for a bit as she slid two fingers into you without trouble, pumping them in and out as her thumb rubbed circles on your clit. You were like a melted puddle under her touch, you wanted to moan, but you remembered her parents were only a couple doors down so you had a fist on your mouth to keep yourself quiet,

“It’s okay. You don’t have to do that.” She tells you, looking at you right in the eye. Her voice, it was so gentle and sweet…like honey, or a lullaby.

“Your Moms are home.” You reminded.

“They don’t care.” She stated, all this while her hands don’t stop. Your legs, now sloppily laid on her shoulders as she held the vibrator with that hand and returned it to its spot on your clit, adding on to the stimulation. And with her also curling her fingers upward to hit your g-spot, your release was even closer. “I want to hear you, my love.” She requested as she turned the small vibrator off and put it aside on the towel. Her fingers still hard at work as her free hand reached over to a draw in her nightstand to locate a thicker vibrator. She doesn’t turn it on, but instead she asks if she could use that in place of her fingers. You agreed, desperately wanting to get your release. The stretch you felt caused you to give her a throaty moan, but it didn’t hurt a bit, thanks to the extra lubrication. With every thrust, the more high-pitched your whimpers became. Until, they became actual moans that just couldn’t stop. You could feel her twisting it in between thrusts, it made you feel insanely good. It was never that easy until this time every month, especially not with this minimal foreplay. Her thrusts became harsher at the end as you felt the coil in your core, it felt so intense- it actually kind of ached. As you unraveled, she removes the vibrator and her fingers took over again, helping you down from your high.

When she helped you get up and into the shower, you caught a look of the aftermath, which wasn’t as horrific as you thought it would be. “I’ll be in with you in a minute, okay. Just be careful.”

“I’ll be fine.” You assured, sitting down on a ledge in the bathroom where her bottles of shampoo, conditioner and body wash usually sat. She dumps the towels in a pail filled with hot water. You couldn’t actually see anything on them because they were black coloured towels so that saved you from overthinking how the mess looked.

————

She returns to the bathroom with two sets of clothes for the both of you, leaving them on the countertop of the sink. Janis closes the door. “Hi, pretty girl.” She cooed, hopping into the shower with you.

“Hi.” You smiled in return.

You reached for the body wash, but she stops you, saying she’d do it for you. Well, and every other step of the shower. Suddenly, you got an idea. She’s helped you out, so you thought it was time for her turn. As she stood before you, her chest barely above your eye-line, your hand finds its way to her hip. “What ya doin’?” She asks you with a chuckle as she squeezes some of the body wash onto a loofah. The smell of lavender and camomile feels the air of the steamy shower. You took a careful breath- you loved this fragrance. “Do you want me to…y’know You ask, “You helped me out, I think it’s fair if I help you out now.”

She smirked. “I’m gonna say yes to that.”

Your pointer and middle fingers slide down her folds, you let out a quiet gasp feeling that she was wet. You had it down to a science, how to make her come. It did not take you more than fifteen minutes to have her be asking to come. You let her, without resistance, since she’d make it so easy for you earlier.

She lets out a giddy little laugh, helping you stand up from your seat on the ledge, “I love you.” Janis captures your lips into her own, giving you a lingering kiss as she presses her forehead against your own.

You fell asleep much, much easier that night. She wore you out- that, coupled with your typical tiredness you felt on your period. Before you could feel your pain in a plethora of locations amp up its intensity, you’d succumbed to slumber, feeling Janis doodle circles and other silly shapes on your back with her fingers. “I love you, Janis.” You mumbled sleepily as your eyelids drooped shut.

“I love you so much, baby.” She said wholeheartedly, that being the last thing you heard before falling asleep. Janis doesn’t stop tracing random shapes on your clothed back as for a few minutes, but she mentally ran through a checklist of the stuff she’d left on her desk- stuff that you’d need just in case: water, your medications, some snacks in case you needed to take the meds, plastic bags, heat packs and even the medicated pain relief plasters her Mom got you. You grumbled that it was a lot of work for her but she said it was no trouble. You felt bad, but she tells you not to. She always won. Whenever you were ill or brought down by cramps before this new condition took over and gave sick days a whole new meaning, she’d always make the time to take care of you. Even in school, she’d make the day go by easier for you by subtly doing whatever she could think of…sneaking you little individually wrapped pieces of your favourite chocolate or candy, bringing Advil or Tylenol in her bag with her for the week, even just by asking if you were okay so you knew that she cared and that she was aware that you were sick or having your monthly cycle so you could ask her for help if needed. You never did openly ask her for help, per se. But instead she’d ask if you needed anything because she just knew. Janis could read you like a book after having started off as best friends. She knew just how you behaved whenever you had something on your mind or whenever you weren’t at 100%.

Your Mother’s warned her that you were a big problem to deal with, as though you weren’t a human being with feelings. She bluntly told your Mother that even if you had problems, she didn’t give a shit the way your Mom did. She’d actually make sure you were treated with care. The night Janis got into it with your Mom, she made you a promise to always be looking after you and you told her you’d do the same for her. Neither of you have once broke that promise, which surprised your Mother to no end but slowly caused her to back off. Very unwillingly. Especially since you’ve learnt that, the lesser time you spent at home, the better it was for you. If being with Janis taught you one thing, it was to be unapologetically yourself and always standing up to the people who would treat you badly — that’s two, technically. But you get it. You were not a plaything for others to manipulate for their own enjoyment or benefit.

Everyone you passed in your life since knowing Janis, called her a danger, a problem, or just… ‘bad’, but you disagreed. To you, she was the opposite of those terms. Even when she had her little moments where she’d threatened to rip the head off of a school bully or break their jaw for each mean passing remark. That was her way of caring for people that mattered to her, because she knew that if she just let it go, those bullies kept going day after day. She had to show them that she meant what she said. And you loved her for that. And many other reasons, like how happy she made you, but yeah. You were her problem, and she was yours. As she said, playing along with your Mother’s words. Her wit - your Mother was no match to her. Janis will always have a comeback and Damian always enjoys witnessing such a situation. While you were soundly asleep, Janis stayed up thinking about the night your Mom called you a problem. She could not let that shit go as hard as she tried. Those words were as good as tattooed on her mind and she detested that.

‘You made her a problem. You caused her to have anxiety and be in ‘bad moods’. None of this is her fault entirely. How could you treat your daughter like that? You didn’t even call or text to check on her once.’ Janis thought.

She watches you sleep as her thoughts ran through her mind. Feeling the anger bubbling up, she takes a few deep breaths to calm herself down, scooting closer to you quietly to hold you in her arms.

‘You want to call her a problem? Fine. So be it. She’s a good problem to have. Screw you.’ Janis thought again.

“Nothing will ever make me mad at you.” She mumbles to herself, brushing the hair out of your face, “Good night, sweet girl.”

[jacksprostate]

Before Project Mayhem, before fight club, before Marla, before Tyler — there is still one sad sack of shit.

.

.

The hard part about work trips isn't making the plane or seeing another family of five burnt into their leather seats. It's missing support groups.

See, if you're lucky, the company will send you out to a major city. Cities are great. A little advanced work to find a slightly below average church or library, you're set each night you're there.

It's a bit of novelty, getting to be a new face all at once. People assume you've just been diagnosed. It's never the failed treatments, the degradation of their life and everyone in it, the continuous experience of knowingly dying — none of those things are the worst thing that happens to you.

It's finding out they will.

So people cry. They crowd around, I sob like I've been told I've got stage four colon cancer and three weeks to live. We all cry. I sleep soundly on the plane back or in the nice, four star hotel my company provides me.

Flying out to a small town, though. I'll be awake enough to be hallucinating by the time I get back for Remaining Men Together. The only mercy is that the next time I show for all the groups I missed, I can see who thought I died. I get to be resurrected.

The other part about small towns, you have to take a second, shitter plane to a local airfield, or you have to take a rental car. One of the most popular rental cars available right now, it'll light itself on fire if you use the cruise control at the wrong time. I know this because I sat next to another guy with my job, who worked for a different company, and he said I'll show you mine if you show me yours. So I told him about the faulty airbags, and he told me about the overheating switch.

I prefer to avoid driving.

All the rental place at the airport has left for me, it's one of those flaming cars. I use cruise control. If I don't, one of my narcoleptic spells will send me into the Jersey barrier.

When you drive into these small towns, you have to try to pay attention, or you'll end up a county over talking about the wrong wreck. They're otherwise interchangeable, but the miles on your rental car won't line up and those are the type of records that might get pulled out when the company is finally sued for the big one ten years down the line.

As a result, I see the same decor on the way in every time. Meth lab. Abandoned homes. Garbage fire. Classic Americana. There is no four star hotel here; I sleep the same.

The only reason I've been brought out here is because the poor shithead who drove his truck into the ditch drunk was driving my company's flagship vehicle. It loses power steering if the car jostles the right way going above 55 miles per hour. I've been told to keep track of potential incidents and make sure the company can firmly claim it's not at fault.

We've had this problem for decades, and we will for many more. Sometimes, everything is falling apart.

The job is simple, and I only get tempted by the town's blatant opioid addiction for a day and night. Painkillers would probably make me sleep. The thing about being a recall campaign organizer, though, is like recognizes like. It's not only other Compliance and Liability guys who tell you company secrets while sharing the aisle in business class.

When I'm finally back in my own town, after my own support groups, after crying my eyes out into Bob's meaty middle — I pick up my mail. There's the newest IKEA magazine. Half of it looks like shit. The type of thing you'd only see in some curated art deco, modernist, post-modern traditionalist bohemian minimalist apartment.

I have to have it.

I go to sleep, hard, like God himself tucked me in. I sleep with my wallet net four hundred heavier, because even an IKEA spree tends not to outweigh a work trip. I sleep, with my called in IKEA goods only two short weeks away, my job well done, and I know, my life is complete.

[gaykarstaagforever]

...Well, at least he didn't sigh and play a ukulele.

1) "...Assuming we believe any of this." Append that to everything I say here. I don't believe a word this guy says. He comes across as chronically narcissistic and making excuses for inexcusable behavior. Even when he admits that, it feels like he is ONLY doing that to worm out of the consequences of getting called out for it. He is still just doing damage control, so he can regain his channel and avoid getting a real job. Trust me, I'm a narcissistic asshole, too. We can smell each-other. Like bears. This whole thing is just disingenuous.

I don't even believe his personal stuff. I want receipts for his diagnoses and family turmoil. Is that fair? No. But how else can we trust him at this point? It is what it is, because of what he did.

2) As he says, personal problems and having dreams aren't excuses for lying, cheating, and grifting. Yet he did all those...and is still kind of trying to score sympathy for why he "felt the need" to do them.

Giving an explanation is one thing. But that isn't what this feels like. Maybe I'm being a biased dick here. But I smell more grift. It just feels like he's gunning for sympathy to wiggle out of his whole YouTube career collapsing.

3) No one gives a shit about your boiler-plate liberal guilt identity issue bullshit, Jimbo. You got in trouble for stealing. No one cares why, see #1. It absolutely doesn't matter. You don't get a pass for stealing because you're gay and white and sad about it. That is a shameful thing to drop here. Asshole.

4) The movie grift thing was STILL a grift, regardless of your intentions. Moral failures are an assessment of actions, not motives. It doesn't matter the circumstances: you got paid to do something you didn't do, and kept the money. That's a grift. And the grift is the problem.

5) Hbomberguy doesn't need your money or your apologies. Neither does the international gay community. Your sins were against specific people. You claim you are dealing with that directly. I hope so. But that is exactly all you need to deal with to atone for this. Stop acting like a wounded god trying to save the world from your stumble. We're good out here. This was your personal fuck-up, in relation to specific people. Cut the narcissistic crap and focus on that.

6) ...If you can. This guy might be helpless against his own inflated sense of self-importance. Narcissists have that problem. I don't know how you deal with that, if this whole mess wasn't enough to compel you. ...But that also isn't an excuse to get away with shit behavior, so fuck you either way, honestly.

7) He said he is going to make content free from his previous garbage, and give the money away. Yeah sure, dude. I'll believe it when you prove it. It means literally nothing otherwise.

8) Stop exposing your personal shit online. This has always been a problem with you. It just comes across as a plea for an excuse to be a dick. There is connecting to an empathetic audience, and then there is trying to cash in expensive sad gay chips you think you have. Knock it off. We don't like or trust you, so we do not care about YOU. If you want to regain trust with good content, shut up and do that. Otherwise, just shut up. We don't need you here, bellyaching for attention.

9) You didn't even MENTION Todd in the Shadows?! A shoutout at least, dude!

...I realize that is petty of me. But still.

10) I want to point out again that James Somerton was never King of the Gays. He seems to think he was, and he dropped his crown. That isn't a thing. And we aren't desperate for you to pick up the thing you never had to drop. There is that raging narcissism again. Very off-putting.

[lightblueminecraftorchid]

Rant under the cut

At the time this posts, I will have had an appointment with a new PCP, discussing several medical concerns that I’ve encountered in recent years.

I feel scared. Scared that I’m wrong, scared that I’m right. And angry. Angry, both at the systems that require me to work past what I can handle and beg for help, and at my body, for not being able to hold me up. I’m ashamed of how much I am capable of doing. I’m ashamed of the recovery time I need. I’m ashamed that I’m still grappling with this internalized ableism, because obviously I would never say this shit to a friend about their needs or capabilities. And yet. Here I am. Thinking this about myself.

There was a comic I came across on here, years ago, about a person struggling with depression. They compared themself to a chipped tea cup: damaged and in need of repair, but not damaged enough to warrant immediate or intense repair. Like the chips in a cup, their symptoms were mild enough that they could be ignored or left untreated. They were still functional, albeit not as well, and not without issues. As a result, they felt small and shunted aside, both afraid of taking up space in depression communities, and angry that their clinicians and peers kept saying “it could be worse! you’re so functional! you don’t need (insert treatment here).”

I feel a lot of solidarity with this person’s experience in this moment.

I don’t know what the fuck is wrong with me. Google searches give me several answers which vaguely fit some of my symptoms, but nothing fits all of them. Either they fit the bill nominally but are way more severe than what I have going on, or they have a bunch of other symptoms I don’t have. I’ve looked at pages for so many chronic pain related disorders by now, and I still don’t have anything I can walk into the office with and say “I think something like this might be going on”.

When I was getting my autism diagnosis, I knew I was autistic. By that point, I’d known for over a year. It was just a matter of getting a clinician to verify it, so I could access accommodations. This is an entirely different beast. Everything I have is vague and hard to explain. I don’t have any diagnosis that I know of to reference, or another person like me to ask questions to. I don’t have EDS, at least. I’m not nearly that stretchy. That, at least, is easy-ish to check. I probably don’t have POTS, or PCOS, or endometriosis. That’s all the things I know my friends have. Beyond that, I can’t really ask people for their personal experiences with their own disabilities and compare notes. Because it’s incredibly invasive to ask random strangers about their medical history. But with my autism diagnosis, I knew several people who were already self-dx or professionally diagnosed with autism. I could easily talk about my experiences and compare it to theirs. It was easy to tell my clinician what was going on, because I’d already explained it and been told “yeah that sounds right for me, too”. People already knew. There was a lot of external validation for my experiences. It was a lot easier to trust myself, knowing that people I was close to agreed with me.

Now, I don’t have that luxury. Yes, my friends believe me, but they also don’t know what the fuck is wrong with me. Nobody does.

And then there’s the added wrinkle of coming to terms with my existing dissociative symptoms, which have possibly been going on for years without me recognizing them as dissociative, because I explained them away by “just being tired/loopy” or “ADHD memory gaps lol”. Working on mitigating my dissociation made my pain symptoms immediately and measurably worse. I have the dual-pronged issue of not being properly aware of my body’s condition, and losing large chunks of time and memory to something I can’t really control.

How do I even give a timeline for how long I’ve been in pain, given that? Or a baseline level? Do I just draw on post-grounding data?

I’ve been making a google doc with a list of everything I can think of. Hopefully I can give that to my doctor, and it’ll be more helpful.

And what if it’s something that isn’t easily fixed, or is poorly understood? Like fibromyalgia? Am I just screwed? I have a future I’ve been working towards. I want to get a PhD and join a clinical practice. I want to move to a new city where my friends are and get a job there and afford my rent. If I actually do have something beyond normal aches and pains, will I be able to do that? What if it’s something progressive, and I have to move back in with my parents? I won’t have a partner to rely on in the future to help take care of me if I need it. I know this is already the reality for a lot of people, and I don’t mean to imply that their lives aren’t worth living, or that they’re tragic figures for needing full-time care. I mean that, for me, moving in with my parents would limit or reverse a lot of the things in my life that currently bring me joy.

And all of this is assuming that I’m not making this up, or exaggerating or hyper focusing on normal life events and conditions, and that this new doctor believes me even if I’m right. Yeah, I was in a lot of pain after standing up for hours at a concert, but wasn’t everybody? Yes, I’m still sore two days later, but isn’t that normal? Yes, my fingers, wrist, and elbow are all sore and tingly hours after doing homework; I was coloring a lot. Maybe my pencil grip is just bad? Maybe it was just a lot of work? It did take me 4 hours. Yes, I run out of energy quickly and want to lay down after one or two big tasks, like grocery shopping or going to class. Doesn’t everyone get tired running errands? What’s the threshold for being tired? What if this is just an autism/sensory thing?

Honestly I’ll be lucky if I can get to even ask these questions. I’ll be happy to get this doctor to look past the number on the scale and actually recommend me something besides cutting down on sugar and carbs.

I guess the central conflict is, I need to somehow convince a stranger to believe me, and I don’t even know if I believe myself. Heaven help me. We’ll see what happens.

[the1975attheirverybest]

what about matty sitting down with reader to talk about how he may need some help mentally. (like where he pulled out that pill on that interview) like discussing it with her. they both take it very seriously. and reader is very supportive and caring

I didn't want to diagnose him over the internet or get into details cuz that's his business and obviously l'm not a psychiatrist or anything. So l've left this a bit vague out of respect for him, the mental health profession, and anyone else who might struggle with these . But here's a lil something. To everyone who relates to this. You got this. You matter. I love you and I’m here for you!

——

"Can I just ask one question?" She looks at him, nervously, playing with the sleeve of her shirt. "Are you breaking up with me?"

Matty's eyes widen, "what?! No! What on earth gave you that idea!'

"Well, you've been saying you wanna talk. And that it's important. And that we need to do it in private...so..?”

"No, god, no! Babe-“ he kisses her, a bit too eagerly, as if to communicate through his touch, how badly he wants her around. "You, might, though....once- emm-listen-" he pulls away, looking down at his feet and trying to remember the words of the speech he had rehearsed in his head a thousand times leading up to this moment. Right now, though, nothing comes to mind.

“I think- I feel like- I want-“ he starts several times, trying to find the right words. The right thoughts. To put them all together in a coherent order, but he's absolutely lost.

She his his hands trembling so she reaches out to hold them in hers, squeezing gently to get his attention. “Hey,” she smiles, clearly unsure of where this was going, but having every faith that, whatever it is, she’d be there with him. “It’s me, Matty. You can talk to me.”

“Yeah, yeah- I know. I just- don’t quite have the right words. Help me?” He looks up at her, briefly, before his eyes dart away again. But even in that quick glance, she knew she saw fear.

“Okay, why don’t we start with the basics. What’re you feeling, right now?”

Matty thought about her question for a moment but he couldn’t come up with a real answer. “Well, I think-“

“Nope. You’re doing this all wrong. I said feeling! Not thinking. If you’re thinking, it’s already too late.”

“What do you want me to do, then?” He yelled, frustrated.

“how about this, umm, close your eyes.”

“What?” He almost laughed, shaking his head.

“Just trust me! Close your eyes!”

“That sounds dumb, I’m not doin’ that…” he shifted in his seat uncomfortably, crossing his legs.

“Fuckin trust me. Close your eyes, NOW!!”

Begrudgingly, he did as she said, wishing he could roll his eyes instead. “Okay, so, now what?”

“Now, breathe. Take a deep breath.”

“You’re not tryna trick me into meditating, are you? Cuz I told you, that hippie shit isn’t-“

“Shut up for a second! Will you? Breathe, Matty. Okay….you can’t see me. You can’t look at me. You can’t think about me or how I’ll react. I’m not even here! Alright! It’s dark. It’s you. Just you and your thoughts. Think out loud. Go ahead…speak!”

“Well, umm- okay, I- I feel helpless. Stuck. Like, uhh- like I can’t move past this - this wall of- apathy. It makes me feel out of control. Shitty. Yeah, shitty…that’s what it feels like! Like, I don’t know if I’ll wake up tomorrow and be able to function, or if I’ll be so consumed with….with….I don’t know despair that I’ll struggle to get out of bed. Like, I don’t care anymore. About shit I should care about! - shit this dumb trick of yours actually works- like I want to quit. Everything just feels too heavy and too much, and it’s pointless, like why am I even trying if I can’t get anywhere? Why do I bother? If I can’t rely on myself how can I expect others to rely on me, you know?”

He finally paused. Having run out of thought, run out of words, and suddenly feeling breathless. Whatever courage or impulse had helped him speak was now drained. Slowly, he opened his eyes, blinking away the blur and adjusting to the light again. He could finally see her, but he couldn’t tell what she was thinking.

“Well, say something, please.” He whispered.

She gave him a nervous smile. “I will, I- umm, I’m just thinking.”

Matty nodded. “Okay, okay…thinking’s good. It’s good to think….could you think faster please?”

She knew this was an important moment, both for him personally, and for their relationship. Matty had thought this through. He always did. Everything he ever says is carefully considered. Even when having spontaneous conversations, you can always see the gears turning in his mind as he offers an opinion or considers different options. So, he’s likely been thinking about this for a while. Wondering whether to bring it up at all, or to keep it to himself. She wanted to offer him the same level of care and consideration. To let him know she took this as seriously as he does.

“Okay, so, first of all- I just- I love you, Matty. And, I’m glad you’re talking to me about this.”

Matty smiled and nodded giving her the courage to keep going.

“Would it be alright if I asked you some questions?”

“Yeah, ‘course.”

“How- how long have you felt this way?”

“Long enough.” He responded without missing a beat. “I mean, this isn’t something that I just woke up with. Not even something I’ve felt for a week or two. Honestly…I can’t remember a time when I haven’t felt this way.”

She felt her heartbreak as he spoke, but she didn’t want to make this moment about her or her sadness, so, setting aside these unprocessed feelings, she carried on reading carefully. “Why- now? I mean, what’s changed then?”

“Like, why am I telling you this now? Well, I think…I think my whole life has been about trying to deal with this feeling. Everything I’ve ever done- with my relationships, with sex, with religion, or lack thereof I should say, with drugs - and we both know how that went- and music, and- everything. it’s all been about trying to mediate this feeling, control it, get rid of it. I think…it’s time to try something different. You know?”

She nodded, relief washing over her. “Okay, that- umm- makes sense to me. Did you have something in mind?”

“Yeah, actually. Think I wanna see a psychiatrist, or something.”

“Mhm, that sounds like a good idea.” She tried to keep her excitement to herself for the time being, giving him the space to express his feelings first. “Can I ask, have you ever been to therapy?”

“Off and on. Haven’t really stuck with it, but, you know, back then….I was on smack and stuff.”

She wanted to say that he should give it another shot, but she knew she was smart enough to draw that conclusion on his own, so she simply nodded, signaling that she understood.

“Probably should try it again, shouldn’t I?” He read her mind, making her giggle.

“I mean, if you want to! It’s okay if that feels like a lot right now. One step at a time.”

“Right.”

“Matty? Can I hug you?”

“Only, if you’ll also kiss me.”

She chuckled, jumping right into his lap and wrapping her arms around him, giving him a sweet, comforting kiss. when he pulled away for a breath, she laid her head on his shoulder, breathing him in. “ I’m gonna say a thing-“

“No- please don’t. I know what you’re gonna say and- just- no.”

“I’m gonna say it. And don’t squirm like a worm. Just, listen, okay? I’m proud of you. I really am. You’re growing up, Matty. That’s hard to do. You’re taking care of yourself, and- fuck, now I’m crying.” She swiped her hand across her face quickly, wiping the tears away. “You’ve been through so much, and you haven’t let it dim your soul. I think that deserves some acknowledgment. You’re too fucked up to accept it, but it’s true. I’m proud of you. And I love you. And I’m with you every step of the way. However long it takes.”

“Stop talking and kiss me again.”

[houseofbrat]

If Kate wants to recover in privacy it is her right, but hoo boy is Team Wales once again giving a masterclass in how not to handle something.  I truly think they don’t understand how much press and PR have changed in the last 10 years and did not expect people to have this reaction.  Hopefully this is just a poorly handled press campaign and not an indication of something more serious.

This. ^^ I've spent many years in communications leadership roles, and transparency is key, 100% of the time. And it's easy to achieve.

The way William and Catherine's camp has handled things is just so crazy. What did they think would happen? Yes, she's entitled to her privacy — but what are the parameters? Why tell the public enough to make them curious, then shut everything down?

An example of the way this could have been communicated:

"Catherine, Princess of Wales, will undergo surgery this week for a benign digestive issue. Her prognosis is excellent. On the advice of her physicians, she will be resting and working on her recovery at home for the next several weeks, and regular updates will not be forthcoming. The Princess is expected to resume working in April."

Easy-peasy, direct, and non-invasive.

Another example: "William, Prince of Wales, is saddened that he will not be able to represent his father, the King, at funeral services for King Constantine II of Greece. The Prince has been diagnosed with a mild case of influenza A and does not wish to expose others to his illness. He is expected to recover fully within days, and he has reached out to the family to express his regret."

There is nothing difficult about this. The King's PR folks seem to be a little better at at it, but it would have made sense, IMO, to be more forthcoming about type and treatment. Perhaps they still will.

(Edited to add: No, we don't NEED to know this. And I wish the whole family the best. But if the goal is to stop speculation and chatter and to control the narrative, the more transparency, the better.)

You have to divide what is owed versus what is sensible.

She doesn't owe anyone her medical history. If she chooses not to disclose it, that's her right.

If she chooses not to disclose it, people are going to speculate and that is entirely out of her control.

If people are speculating and then her husband has a series of embarrassing gaffes while she is recovering, that is going to amplify speculation.

If all of that happens, and the royal rota has no stories to publish, and the Monarch is sick, and the heir looks incapable of doing the Monarchs job, and there are no other young interesting royals to take up space in the media, and you have no strategy for dealing with the reality of public relations in 2024, then you have...

This.

On the whole, I think it would have been better to just clarify what it was, without excruciating detail. But she absolutely is not required to do so. It's just her choice - mixed with other circumstances- has led to a shit show for the BRF.

Yes! So well-said. If you don’t control the message, someone else will try to control it for you. IMO, it speaks to a lack of experience on their team. Someone should have advised them differently.

William has always hated the press so much that he won't hire real PR and media teams. He's stubborn. He hires people he decides he likes and trusts, even if they aren't fit for the job. It's understandable, but it's also a complete disaster.

She owes no one anything, but if they want the chatter to stop, her handlers can offer more information. If the noise doesn't bother them, they can keep doing what they're doing. As the saying goes, nature abhors a vacuum; if you leave an open space, someone will come in and fill it (in this case, with their own information).

The RF has a right to privacy. That said, they can’t cry foul about speculation if they choose not to divulge what’s happening.

Exhibit A: Charles. Even though we don’t know what kind of cancer he’s been diagnosed with or the kind of treatment he’s receiving, he’s been transparent from the get-go about his surgery and his subsequent illness. I get that we’re working with a different situation here because he’s the monarch, but we’re seeing him out and about. He’s working a bit. He said people’s cards and well-wishes are making him cry. He’s barely put a foot wrong with this whole thing. Kudos to whoever is spearheading his PR.

Exhibit B: Catherine and William. “Abdominal surgery” announcement is made. William takes some time off to help. All good. But then, Catherine – one of the world’s biggest draws from a PR perspective – seems to have disappeared. The same woman who was on the hospital steps with a blowout hours after having a baby is just ... gone, and William mysteriously pulls out of King Constantine’s funeral, and people speculate, and their reps put out a pissy response. (And no, I'm not a conspiracy theorist. It's pretty clear she's home and recovering, and all will likely be well.)

Yes, yes. I know the initial announcement said she’d be gone until after Easter. But if William and Catherine are bothered by the speculation, they would do well to issue a genuine statement, not a crabby one from a comms team that can’t do its job.

Like it or not, the RF is more reliant than most celebrities on public approval. William and Catherine are doing themselves no favors. If they don't care about the chatter, though, they're obviously free to carry on.

100% agree with you. Even though, initially I had no problem with their vagueness as it seemed they were following the late Queen playbook. But, she had her children working and representing her and quashing any death rumors to journalists in public appearances. If William isn't going to work might as well tell everyone what she has and say she will be on leave for the rest of the year as it seems to me something serious.

Yes! I mean, I have no skin in the game here. I’m American. But I think there needs to be some accountability on William’s part. If he’s not going to work because he’s helping out at home, great — all the more power to him. But it’s not a good look for the future king to essentially say, “I’m on what amounts to an extended leave of absence, but I owe you nothing in the way of explanation, so piss off.”

[xenderboyy]

*Toby Headcanons*

Personally for YEARSS now I’ve just had the hc that Toby was 5 '6 or 5' 7 because he's a short king and I think its funny so obvi it’s canon in my AU. I think he is actually canonly that height at 19 but i forget XD

Toby is 19 in this AU at the start and 25 by where the story line is atm. Ik shocking he's old af lmfao. Tho in my UA he only gets as tall as 5’7 ½.

Appearance-wise he looks fairly like canon, with curly hair and well a more normal skin colour lmfao(Not grey as originally described). He wears his usual hoodie and whatever pants he finds half the time the other half it's a navy zip-up, white t-shirt, and a Mack Orville Black/Stone Trucker - American Needle.

Toby has manic episodes and depressive episodes and deals with psychosis, this lead to him being diagnosed with Schizoaffective disorder (schizophrenia and bipolar) while also being diagnosed with general anxiety disorder. Though due to his paranoia symptoms, he refused treatment until later years in his life when he was under Slenderman control.

Toby remembers very little from his life before becoming a proxy though he does remember the fire as well as having a mother and sister though he doesn’t remember what they look like. When he tries to remember he becomes distressed and irritable.

Most of the time Toby is a sarcastic laid back guy with a sense of humour, though when manic he is irritable and hyper and when depressive he is quiet and avoids others.

He often tends to avoid being the one to kill if he's in a group, being fast and having a good upper arm he is usually the one to disable the victim's ability to get away and lets Masky finish them off or whoever he's with.

Though when alone He tries to get the job done as quickly as possible. Toby doesn’t feel bad but he doesn’t like doing it yk.

Toby likes to play video games but out of everything he plays COD the most. (call of duty)

He often is outside just walking around and in my AU he wasn’t caught since his house burnt down and they thought he did too so he goes out wearing a mask when he’s bored.

Because of the crash, Toby doesn’t like car drives, meaning he walks everywhere most of the time. The odd time though he will if he’s on his meds.

Toby can go days without sleeping and eating unintentionally because of his disorders so he is often complaining about being starving or exhausted.

Toby is friendly with most of the pastas though doesn’t really trust anyone but EJ, Clockwork, Maksy, Brian, and Jane. later he starts to warm up to BEN and Nina as well.

Like most the pastas, Toby has a phone he’s supposed to use for only communication, Though like most the others his age, he doesn’t. He often will go on pintrest and download memes just to send them to Masky just to annoy him. BEN and Toby will often send each other shit though and take the piss. (messing around for the non brits)

Thats all i can think of for now, any questions will be answered eventually. I might do either Jack or Masky next,

[spoiledleaff]

Why did you disappear for so long?? I feel like you abandoned your blog and friends and stuff for a bit lol Are you okay??

sure. let's talk about this :) i've had a lot of asks lately asking if i was okay during my hiatus//if i'm okay now that i'm trying to make an effort to come back, and, the short answer is no. i'm not.

i was diagnosed with borderline personality disorder (bpd).

cw :: massive vent + personal, medical talk regarding my mental health and thought process. honestly just a lot of oversharing, because i don't have an outlet for this irl, haha! for all intents + purposes, everything below this line is a trauma-dump. please take care of yourself.

for unnecessary context, haha! i went on a hiatus for about half a year, abandoned this blog, destroyed many old wips and interactions i had with the ghost fandom + distanced myself from the friends i've made on this site through ao3 and/or tumblr with no context or goodbyes. my mental health was, and continues to be, in shambles.

i had a homelessness scare + a series of bad physical health scares that almost led me to a brain cancer diagnosis, so... that was fun, haha. but this is probably the main thing.

borderline personality disorder (bpd) is a mental health condition that mainly affects people through extreme mood swings, unstable relationships, trouble controlling their emotions, + often times self-destructive behavior. one of the main symptoms that most people with bpd suffer is fear/perception of abandonment + a constant feeling of emptiness. in addition to this, i have a deeply ingrained socially anxious mindset + i am neurodivergent.

it runs in my family. and, apparently, its running its course through me as well, haha.

i am exhausted. i find myself stuck in an endless cycle, especially on this site, where i am so incredibly excited to interact with the people i've been fortunately enough to find on this site through my work but i distance myself almost immediately when i worry that i start to get too close to someone.

i am so afraid of being abandoned/left behind, that i would rather abandon someone else and disappear.

as a side effect of my bpd, i mainly struggle with paranoia, disassociation, a short temper, feelings of emptiness + an unreliable self-image.

this, unfortunately, affects my relationships here a lot.

i hate my work. i hate myself. sometimes i even hate my friends and then that always spirals into hating their friends, even if it's people who i know are lovely or i have never even fucking met before. i hate this site + ao3, i hate my fandoms, i hate this blog, and i sometimes find myself hating everyone and everything i've ever known and seen. it's a constant cycle of hatred followed by an emptiness that my work will never be good enough, my friendships will never be good enough, my stories will never be good enough, and i will never be good enough. i rarely find joy in these things anymore.

i find myself so desperate + anxious for a little bit of positive social interaction that i overthink every possible scenario, panic, and then vaguely cut ties before i think the other person will.

i cannot begin to describe to you the constant debate i have with myself about whether or not i should delete this blog, permanently remove everything and anything i've ever written on ao3, before inevitably trying to start anew with maybe another penname, another account.

but i've always liked routine. calling myself some variation of 'leaff' on the internet is a part of that. i don't know what else to call myself—people would know it's me.

i'd really like that. i'd fucking hate it too.

so, i've distanced myself from the fandoms + from the people who interact with my content. i do the bare minimum with friends, and sometimes not even that. i ghost people always, worry about what to say next to the point that i've genuinely convinced myself that i've responded, i do the bare minimum, wash, rinse, repeat.

i post my shit, giggle about this and debate about that, disappear for a bit, before inevitably coming back.

i do enjoy the work that i do, sometimes i'm even proud of it. but it's such an inconsistent whirlwind in my mind that i find myself hating it all just as a default.

if you're someone who has had the misfortune of interacting with me, and you wonder if i hate you. i don't.

i promise. not like that, at least.

i'm not going to therapy for this; i can't afford it. i'm trying to find a way to possibly be medicated for this, but i don't have the greatest insurance. i'm trying to train myself into a nicer, more positive mindset; it's hard.

but i'm trying. i'm still very uneducated about this. i'm still coming to terms with the fact that i might be aroace. i think it's why my writing is getting worse, or, at least, why i've been so distraught and unhappy with it. i think this might tie into why i'm so afraid to post anything other than porn; i think it might also be why i'm starting to hate writing it.

i think i'm still coming to terms with the fact that i'm simply unhappy with life, haha.

i didn't mean for this to become such a huge ramble — i think that's why i'm answering this at such an unpopular//late time, haha! — but i've had a surprising amount of asks in my inbox asking about me.

it's weird. i'm not really used to that. i think that's part of the reason why it took me so long.

regardless, this is why i disappeared. this is why i've been distant, this is why i ghosted you, and this is what will probably happen again in the near future. at least it's consistent, i guess.

thank you for your concern. if you made it this far, damn. i wish i had your attention span sometimes, haha. also i'm sorry for never answering your messages or for never reaching out in the first place. it's very easy to convince myself that you don't want me to, that i might be a trophy friend, that what we had was never real.

i'm sorry that after all this time this is how you might be hearing about it.

thank you for being patient with me.

i'm sorry you have to be so patient to begin with.

i think that's all i have to say :) it's a new road for me, and it's one that i don't want to travel. but i have to. i think it might help me in the long run if i do this all now.

so... yeah! :) haha, a bit of leafy lore, if you will. just, maybe not the fun kind, haha!

[ms-demeanor]

@postsforposting - I wanted to respond but that thread has gotten completely unmanageable and I feel bad for continually showing up in OP's notes.

I feel like that isn’t what was meant, though. You absolutely can help someone feel better even if they’ve got a disorder, they shouldn’t be treated like they’re completely unhinged from reality as a rule. There is a huge difference between “I am trying to cure you with a sentence and the PoWEr oF LOvE” vs doing the same thing you would do for any other partner when you said something shitty or you’re trying to have a difficult conversation.

I think you're reading the WaPo article too literally here and saying that he means this is applicable to everyone who has ever been diagnosed with a major psychiatric disorder, which is one possible interpretation of that statement, but is the least charitable possible interpretation; on his site he talks about *untreated* addiction and major psychiatric illness in people who refuse to get treatment for those issues as deal-breakers, but not the illnesses themselves. You are obviously not obligated to go read every author's full website before you judge what they're saying in an interview, but the statement that he did make was this:

[this advice] does not apply to abusive situations or relationships in which there is a power imbalance, major psychiatric disorder, addiction or another issue that may require putting your own safety first and seeking professional help.

Which can very easily be restated as "this advice does not apply to [...] relationships in which [...] major psychiatric disorder [...] may require putting your own safety first and seeking professional help." The only thing he is saying that it full-stop does not apply to is abuse, otherwise he's saying that addiction/disorder/other issues *may* require professional help and in that case the advice does not apply.

I think that when you say he's acting as though people should be treated as if they were unhinged from reality you're reading something that just isn't there.

Everything else he’s talking about, everything in that NYT article (which is an entirely different tone from the wapo, weirdly) goes for someone who has a disorder just as it does for someone who does not. He talks about people who have trauma from childhood, and working past it: he himself says he fights and gets angry easily because of his childhood; how is that any different from someone with PTSD or depression who reacts negatively? Yet he doesn’t say that he’s an exception to his own advice. Those people need the same kind of approach and “relational” care that he talks about. You (general you) can’t just go “well you’re being delusional” and refuse to acknowledge you said anything nasty or flew off the handle yourself, or that you need to have a cool down yourself. There’s a difference between “some of my feelings are because of the disorder, and nothing will change that” and “some of this is because of things my partner controls or did, and they need to acknowledge and fix that”–exactly the kinds of things he’s talking about. If you feel like shit because your boss is an asshole micromanager, you can separate that from the stuff your partner does, and not take your boss out on your partner. The same is true for disorders: you may still feel like shit no matter what your partner does, but you can tell the difference, and your partner ought to know the difference between attempting to cure you vs taking responsibility for leaving their dirty laundry flung all over the house.

Again, I think this comes from a misreading of that line. He isn't saying that he's exempt from this condition; if he had refused to get treatment for his PTSD and had continued to suffer outbursts of fear and aggression that made it impossible for his partner to feel secure with him and insisted that he was fine and didn't need to do anything about his screaming or throwing things, then he would be included in the group for whom this advice does not apply.

Remember that the advice that he's saying doesn't apply in these situations is "put aside objective reality to consider your partner's subjective situation."

If Alice and Bob are in a relationship and Alice is upset that Bob is blowing her off to stay home and get some extra sleep or cancelling plans made in advance because he's just not up for it, Real is saying "put aside objective reality and consider what you can do to make your partner happy."

If Alice and Bob are in a relationship and Alice is upset that Bob is blowing her off to stay home and get some extra sleep or cancelling plans made in advance because he's just not up for it *and Bob has untreated major depressive disorder and is sleeping twelve hours a day and is never up for going out or eating or getting out of bed or showering* that is when Alice should not put aside objective reality. If Alice puts aside objective reality in that situation and tries to make Bob happy by giving him space and letting him stay in bed and never asking him to go anywhere then Alice is going to be sacrificing things that make her happy for a partner who isn't going to start feeling better and more respected and listened to because of her sacrifices.

Apply the same advice to an addiction framework. If Alice is upset that Bob is blowing her off to stay home and drink, or cancelling plans because he's not sober enough to drive, then it isn't a good idea for Alice to ask herself "what can I do to improve his situation and our relationship" because there is nothing that Alice *can* do, it is Bob who has to take action.

Same thing in the depression example: nothing that Alice can do to be nice to her partner or accommodate him and make sure he's feeling heard and loved is going to treat his depression. It might make him feel a bit better to know that he's loved, but it might also make him feel more guilty and spiral deeper into depression.

I think it would be incredibly weird and concerning to insert a caveat for other illnesses like “hey, you can’t cure this, don’t try, take care of yourself first”. Perhaps the caveat is only there because people widely do think disorders are fake and you really can cure them with twue wuv, but that’s fairytale nonsense and I don’t think that has a place here anymore than believing you can cure cancer and other chronic illness with twue wuv would.

I mean, Real is talking about people who don't have particularly good communication styles and who are having relationship issues. There are a *ton* of people out there who not only think that they CAN treat their partner's mental illness or addiction on their own, they think that they SHOULD and that it is their responsibility, specifically because a lot of people have been TOLD that taking care of their partner's emotional state is their responsibility; those people are likely to have poor communication styles and relationship issues.

That’s the starting point, so it makes sense that things need to be framed selfishly in order to get moving on fixing it, on changing it: there just isn’t the capacity for selflessness without getting something for self, yet. It’s a practical framing.

But as an end goal….selfishness is not a good mindset to have.

Selfishness isn't the end goal; as you noted, it's the entry point to people who don't understand that cooperation is in their self-interest. The end goal is recognition that the relationship is an ecosystem that you and your partner both occupy and if you want to be in a healthy relationship you have to take care of the ecosystem *instead of* having the knee-jerk reaction to take care of yourself.

I think part of the problem is that most of the population, at least in America, uses hate and thus interprets “normal marital hate” to mean things like the idolization of abuse, and that those things are normal. I kind of wonder if Real knows about that, or if he’s even addressing the same audience, because I would not have picked that phrase or anything like it if that’s who I was talking to.

Honestly I think it's pretty clear that Real *is* aware of this phenomenon and has chosen "normal marital hate" specifically because it sounds more outlandish than "sometimes you'll be peevish with your spouse." I think the point of using a provocative phrase like that is to get people to talk about stuff and open up about the unique dislike that pops up from time to time in long relationships.

One thing that people have kind of been talking around is that in long relationships you've been with each other long enough that minor annoyances compound into infuriating, needling little jabs (you haven't asked them a hundred times to pick up their socks, you've asked them a thousand times, and you gave up asking because they were never going to do it, they aren't wired that way and you love them and it's not a big deal but the thousandth time you have picked up their socks because they won't just do this one thing that you want them to do because the clutter makes you crazy and they love you too aren't they supposed to care about the things that make you crazy? Fuck! How have I been living like this for ten years I fucking hate living with socks on the ground and they just won't fucking listen about it! Fuck!) that are made worse because they are coming from someone who knows you better than anyone and who you love and you end up feeling betrayed and like they don't love you and aren't taking care of you.

That is, honestly, a scary feeling even if it's something that happens over something as silly as whether socks make it into the hamper.

And it's not something that most people in healthy relationships expect, so when they're suddenly crying over the laundry basket and going "do they even love me at all? Do I even belong here? What went wrong in my life that this is where I ended up, I could have been doing something amazing in a cool city with a partner who treats me like royalty and always picks up their socks" they're shocked and surprised and upset.

"Normal marital annoyance" doesn't quite cover the "should I leave my partner and find someone with a motorcycle and a proper understanding of laundry" feeling that pops up once in a while after you've lived together for ten or so years. If you think that it's normal to be annoyed by your partner but not normal to be struck with occasional existential dread and resentment (because brains are kind of bad and made of biases and logical fallacies and decide to say "if you didn't move in with this sock-ogre you could have had the perfect relationship" every once in a while) you're going to be very upset if you have those feelings and think that they're unique and uncommon and an indicator that your relationship is on the rocks.

Honestly I think "normal marital dread" might be a better/broader phrase than "normal marital hatred" that would be similarly attention-getting and less immediately dismissable. There are plenty of people who see "hatred" and go "couldn't be me, I love my partner" who will be very shaken if they stumble across unexpected dread in five years or so. There are also plenty of people who go "of course hating your partner is normal," and will not look at the phrase any further and will therefore stay in really shitty relationships that they should be looking to pull the plug on.

[oncominggstorm]

Im autistic & adhd. Also have undiagnosed physical health issues which been acting up lately. Really not doing well, need help. Currently in shutdown, include verbal shutdown. And struggling type, forgive grammar plz. Need help & support, but is none. Don’t know what do. Everything feel impossible. Long vent under cut.

Want run away, somewhere no one can find. Somewhere quiet & alone, with internet & tv so can watch comfort shows, play comfort games, etc. But will turn off phone, or get new number, or just block all family except younger sister on everything, or something, idk. Want comfy bed & comfy chairs & good temperature control & good food, and just quiet & solitude. Preferably somewhere out in nature. Let everyone figure out their own shit without me. Can’t do this anymore. ONLY things keeping me from doing are younger sister & lack of money. Mom & twin sister need figure shit out on own, can’t handle anymore. Can’t do.

Dont have a job or any money at all, literally only have $5 (and well over $20k in credit card debt, in collections). Am in autistic burnout & have been for nearly 3 years now. Had quit job in May cuz burnout so bad. But still expected take care of entire family.

Live with dad & twin sister (will call twin). Dad extremely NT & able bodied, dont understand me/twin at all. Knows nothing about autism/adhd & unwilling to learn. Pays bills & does chores so that is helpful, but not willing do any other support. Doesn’t believe in mental health.

Mom & younger sister (will call younger) live with grandma. Younger is 12 yrs younger, i basically raised. Feel almost more like parent than sister. Also is best friend & person i care most about in world, would die for her. Hate seeing her suffer. Twin & younger both also autistic & adhd, and neither have job. Grandma has moderate (bordering on advanced) dementia & need 24/7 supervision & support. Younger currently has busted knee, on crutches & really struggling & lot of pain. Mom refusing to believe is as bad as is, thinks younger is exaggerating, barely helping her. Ive been having drive over nearly daily to help. Mom had multiple strokes 2 years ago, still has both cognitive & physical challenges as result, & just lost job. Mom almost deffo undiagnosed autistic/adhd but refuses to believe. Doesnt believe younger is either (she still undiagnosed, me & twin formal diagnosed recently). Mom never great person, but got much worse after strokes, is mean & bordering on verbally abusive to us (and is DEFFO verbal abusive to grandma). Also has horrible memory & cognitive issues, doesnt understand things correctly, half of what she says doesn’t make sense, makes helping her hard.

Twin sick rn, lots of stomach issue & pain. Found out few months ago has enlarged spleen, but no answer yet, cant see specialist til Dec. Twin also has medical anxiety, so hard to know for sure what is real & what isnt. Every day twin ask me for MULTIPLE favors; get things for her, do things for her, etc. Also get MULTIPLE txts every day complaining about not feeling well, yet she refuse go doctors. Counted once a few days ago: in 11 hour period, asked for 7 favors & texted 13 times about pain.

Even when not sick tho, twin basically never help. Feels like she think I “less disabled” than her, not true. I doing horribly and still have take care everyone else while she sits on couch play video games & ask me to bring her things. No one ever bring ME things. Twin NEVER return favor no matter how bad I do/how well she do. One sided only.

Today twin ask for SO MANY THINGS, CONSTANTLY. Doesnt seem to care that I not doing well either & just CANNOT handle, keeps asking anyway. I tell her how bad am doing & immediately she ask for more favors. Won’t shut up about how sick she is (feeling very “wrong” w/stomach issues, has enlarged spleen but don’t know why yet & is worried that is cause), and says she is NOT OK, and that something is VERY wrong & she is worried she is dying, but also won’t get her ass to ER. Also expect /ME/ take her AND go in with, if decides go. Told her has to ask mom or dad first. Now just won’t go, and instead just keep complain to me about how bad doing & keep asking for help with stuff.

On top of that, am constant worried about all shit mom needs to do: get grandma house in her name so can keep (rn bank gets when grandma dies due to 2nd mortgage or something idk, which will make mom & younger homeless), get grandma car in her name (mom hasnt had own car in like 6+ yrs, just uses gma’s), figure out her unemployment (applied but no check yet cuz needs submit weekly proof of job applications & doesnt know how), get guardianship for grandma (mom never even got power of attorney, and is too late now cuz grandma cant understand to sign, so rn we just stuck cuz grandma not capable make decisions, but legally we cant make for her either), update her resume, get help for grandma, etc. Most of it fall to me. Mom kind of person who just WILL NOT do things, no matter how much help u give (ex: was trying get her accommodations for her job after strokes so wouldnt lose job. Explained process multiple times, both verbally & in writing. Figured out who she needed contact for help & wrote out email for her, ALL she had do was copy & paste & send email. Didnt do it. Now fired cuz couldnt keep up w/out accommodations). Mom also no longer even ask for help, just tells us we are doing. Ex: said to me “I’m going to come over tomorrow so you can help me do my job searches for unemployment.” Just tells me I’m doing it, not even ask. Sick of it. Grandma have dementia, at point where cannot even shower or wash hands, we have no support at all, doing everything ourselves. ADRC says only way to get grandma help is to put lien on her house & sell to pay off when she dies, but mom & younger live with grandma so that would make them homeless once she dies. Says we can’t even get occasional respite care unless give up house, let alone regular in home care.

Just can’t handle anymore. Feel like am being broke into thousand pieces, or crushed by thousand lb weights. Feel stuck. Feel like no choices, no good options, no way out. Want run away. Want take younger & her cat & find cabin in woods somewhere & just go run away from everything/everyone else. But can’t, no money. Feel so stuck. No help. No support. Don’t know what do.

[transpersian]

I have met two people with PMDD and they are exactly like Zena. I don't think it's the illness that makes them that way, so much as they were bad people anyway and have a continent excuse though. The two folks I knew were highly abusive, controlling, manipulative people who intentionally victimize themselves. To live as a victim and never take responsibility for their shitty actions. I had to cut though people out of my life and they STILL talk shit about me and anybody else that leaves them for their shitty behavior. They never reflect and think "am I the bad guy?"

I really hope it's not the illness. I have a hard time believing an illness makes someone that twisted and fucked up. It's just a convenient excuse.

And another. Thank you, too. 💜

It’s similar to the kind of stigma that’s leveled against people with BPD; unfortunately, it has traction because so many people with BPD aren’t getting proper treatment for it. Unmanaged BPD can result in some pretty intense situations, and it’s important that people with conditions that can manifest in ways that can harm others (especially loved ones) take the steps to make sure that happens as little as possible.

When I got diagnosed with BPD, I had a bit of an existential crisis because “this means I’m just like them.” As someone who had been through many years of abuse at the hands of BPD people, I saw it only in that context. I quickly came to realize and understand that it’s something that amplifies everything. It’s beautiful in some ways, devastating in others, but that’s why we’re dramatic bitches: we have genuinely big feelings.

All of this to say that, in this context, it can also amplify the shitty parts.

I came out of that existential crisis when I realized why I wasn’t like them: I’d made a conscious decision not to take my shit out on other people, especially not my loved ones. Life is filled with things that frustrate you or make you sad or angry or bitter or jealous. Kindness is a choice. It takes patience, self-control, and work.

That’s one of the reasons this stings so much: Poppy and Zena say all of the right things and like to paint themselves as people who have done the work. They understand the concepts, but all you have to do is read my document to see how well they stick to them in practice. They attract people who are looking for safety from that exact treatment. Those people get comfortable and find some hope in having a space like that.

Then they have the nerve to disagree with Zena on something sensitive, like suggesting that something was unintentional and a misunderstanding.

Suddenly, they’re attacked in a nightmare version of what they thought this place was safe from, from the very people who said all the right things and swore they’d never hurt you in those ways. And they’d believed PZ in a way that they hadn’t been able to believe anyone in a long time.

I had people to catch me as I fell. Even then, I had a pretty rough time getting back up. Someday, someone won’t be so lucky.

I say this absolutely seriously: these people are dangerous.

In my opinion, of course.

[untitledinstinct]

I am going to have to take a little time away from tumblr. (Hopefully just a couple days)

I don't have enough money for my pain/ptsd/mood medication, and don't want to act or say shit I don't mean.

I'm I'm a bad mental place, and don't know how long until I can get my medications.

Seeing things on here (food) that I'm nearly addicted to, while feeling like such shit, when I can't afford a bag of milk or medication the rest of this, and all of next month triggers bad feelings from my bpd.

I have borderline personality disorder, and it's hell to deal with on the best days.

The only thing I can do when I'm in a spell is recluse because I'm not... I'm basically a broken human.

The specific way my combination of disorders come together, basically make it so everything about me is broken in one way or another, and that I'll never be able to maintain, or have relationships or friendships or really any human connection.

I am invalid

Now, not everyone with bpd is this way. Most aren't.

There's over 117 different ways it can present, as well as the fact I have multiple other disorders intertwined with it.

I have done 12 years of all different types of therapies, and workshops. I have all the skills needed, but one disorder will trigger the next, and the next, and the next, and suddenly I don't know what day it is or what happened the last two.

I'm on a large amount of antidepressants, to the point every doctor I see questions it.

300mg effexor

275mg lamotragine

300mg welbutrin

1mg resperidone

For depression only.

I have also been prescribed medicinal Marijuana (in Ontario - legal) and that's the one I can't afford.

That one helps with pain, depression, c-ptsd, and panic disorder w/ agoraphobia. (Some of my dx's) this is the one I can't afford this month. It's the one that carries most of the weight.

Honestly the only reason I didn't get shock therapy is because I needed a ride home, and didn't have one, and couldn't afford a cab.

Please remember it's the specific combination of symptoms of 6+ psychiatric diagnoses. Very, very, very few people with any of my dxs will be affected this way.

People with bpd get a bad rap of being bad people. Bpd is basically like our mind is as sensitive as a 3rd degree burn - the slightest interaction, can cause a big reaction in our brain that we can't always control. It doesn't mean we don't try. It means we learn when to pull ourselves away to calm down.

Adding for luck.

If you're able to help with cost of medication, my PayPal is: https://www.paypal.me/thatguyyates

Nothing that comes in will be going to food/groceries until medication cost is covered (unless specified)

Currently at $75/$205 but a service fee is coming out soon

(Not all medications or health issues have been added. Not all are needed in here)

[lovejosephquinn]

Warning: DV Mention...

Okay story time based on my mood, I figured it out. This is really personal shit so if you aren't interested please keep scrolling, it's a shit thing for me to talk about even years on, it haunts me in my sleep still and I just need to get it out.

So about 8 years ago I suffered a really shitty physical and mentally abusive relationship, for almost 2 years I went out of my head thinking and believing that I was the problem.

It started off as mental abuse, something I've always been against but got myself into. It started off well, but people grew concerned when I was literally being bought expensive things for no reason at all and taken out at least 2 nights a week, controlled on what I wore, what I ate and what I did with my friends.

He got kicked out of his mum's house and I took him into MY parents house without even asking, keeping him there for the week as I didn't want to see him go without. I didn't know where he lived, he lied to me about that for a year and a half, then I found out when he lied about the address he had on his ID which he left over at mine by accident, he made excuses but he eventually took me there. It took me a year to even meet his mum. She never knew I existed.

So all of this time I was getting cheated on by my ex boyfriend with several different women, one who he eventually had a 6 month affair on, then when I caught him out he told me that I was insane. It sent me mental always looking through his phone (which I have never done with any other previous relationship) just to see if there was something else I could find.

Eventually it became physically abusive. The first night it happened was after a night out with him and his friend, we were walking back to my house and because I wouldn't have sex with him out in a public area, he dragged me into a dark alley and made me do it. When I cried after he pushed me into a thorn bush right next to us and took a picture of my scratched up arms, posting it on social media, making out that I fell in it myself and when my mum questioned me, he didn't let me answer, he told her I was way too drunk and again, fell in.

It got worse. He got me pregnant, I found out when I was about 13 weeks and although I wanted to keep it since I'm against termination, he threatened that he would take it out of me himself if I didn't do something about it, punched my stomach and I miscarried.

I seeked help. I was diagnosed with severe anxiety and offered medication but I declined, because I knew I was stronger than that. I ended up lying to him constantly, not telling him where I was because I didn't want him to kick off. Sleeping with other people when I was with him just so I could feel something happy at the time. I broke another person's heart because of him.

He went on holiday with his friends and I couldn't get a hold of him one night, his friend answered his phone eventually and another girl was in bed with him. I overdosed that night. He told me good and that I'm not worthy of being alive.

He still proceeded to buy me everything, call me a gold digger and psychopath to his friends yet he was the one doing all this. I'm not materialistic in any way, shape or form. My parents and friends hated him, one of my friends AND my stepdad once tried to swing for him when he upset me but yet I'd always stick up for him because I loved him...

I'd had enough eventually. Going back and fourth, up and down and in constant circles of depression and anxiety and fed up of it all. I ended things for good after almost 2 years of it. I got out. Which I'm glad I did because I don't think I'd of been here much longer.

My point is, was that I saw him today when I was out, randomly for the first time in years and to tell you the truth, my stomach felt sick to the core. I was shaking, cold sweats and every memory of what happened to me when I was only the mere age of 20 struck through me.

I'm better now anxiety wise, a lot better than I was anyway.

But I still have awful panic attacks that lead to me not being able to breathe and being sick, I still get nightmares where I wake up in a sweat. I still am afraid to this day.

(Sorry to offload all of this.)