#had to reschedule my therapy appointment for this and shes gonna ask how it went when i see her tomorrow | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

regular-lord-reckoner · 27 days ago

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hello !!

it is i, back to haunt this tumblr before spoopy season slips away, wooOOoooOOO

anyway, hi there, just thought i'd give a little update on me and what i've been up to.

i'm....ok ?? i guess ??

i feel more like myself, anyway, but still having a hard time most days, especially because i'm pretty sure i can feel myself sliding into burnout again but i'm doing my best !!

i still haven't been back to therapy yet, mostly because i'm trying to decide if i want to attempt to go to at least one more session if nothing else to clear up whatever remaining money i may owe her or if i should just move on. i feel a bit snubbed but at the same time i do still owe her for the work she's done so far and i don't think it's that much left anyway, but i've just kinda had to sit with that, "huh, okay then," feeling for a minute. i dunno, i guess we'll see.

if nothing else i think i'll probably find a new one at some point anyway because i feel like i'd kinda hit a wall with her and especially after her not reaching out to me to reschedule and only giving me the option of calling her to make an appointment (you literally work with all neurodivergent clients and you yourself also are, what are we doing here??) i'm not sure i really trust her anymore so oh well. that's part of it, i guess. you try some and they don't work out, but i do want to try again because i do think it helped so we'll see !

in the mean time, though, i've been keeping busy. lately mostly in preparation for a wedding that took place at my house this past weekend !!

it was for the daughter of someone my mom and i know from work and we've always loved them and their family so with how fucking expensive everything is these days we let them just use our place to get hitched and everything went off perfectly !!

and although i don't know them super duper well, i do think they're going to be a very good couple and their wedding was absolutely beautiful. we have this little clearing in the woods that as soon as you step into it it's almost like you're in another world and especially at this time of year it's really magical with the leaves changing and everything so for weeks leading up to this they've occasionally come out to clear things out and get it set up the way they wanted and it ended up being pretty simple, but still very beautiful.

i also got asked to be the person who fluffed out the bottom of her dress before she walked down the aisle and i also carried the train of her dress so i was actually the only person with her before the ceremony began and i hope i did a good job of calming her nerves beforehand. in any case, she did great, they both did great and it was one of the best weddings i think i've ever been to, so yay !! i hope they live happily ever after and all that !!

although admittedly i am glad the day has now passed so that i can work on some other projects around the house, namely my own shit.

i keep saying i'm gonna tackle my mess and donate some clothes and all that, but then i end up having to clean out the room the water heater's so a repair guy can come in or clean out the laundry room so a repair guy can come in or or or

there's also just me taking on more and more responsibilities now that it's just me and my mom, like yesterday for instance.

we decided instead of us trying to fool with putting the pool cover on ourselves we asked some guys from the place we buy some of our pool stuff from if they'd come out and do it and they said sure so that was all good and well but my mom decided she wanted us to have the water be tested beforehand to see if we need to add anything to it which....i feel like we haven't done in the past but i said i'd do it so i did (or tried to anyway)

wouldn't you fucking know it, the pool store we go to was closed !!! apparently they're closed every wednesday but i didn't realize that until i was at the gas station getting some gas and was going to pull the address up on my gps because i couldn't quite remember where it was so that was....fun

i thought i was going to be smart, though so i pulled up another pool place not too far from there that i remember us going to before so i thought surely i could just take my sample over to them and they'd be able to tell me what i need

well.............. evidently the benefit of going to the place we normally go to would have been that they already have all our information on file, including how many gallons it is, which....y'know, they kinda need to know in order to recommend any sort of treatment

and me being me and notoriously bad at guessing the size of things, i wasn't sure and didn't even want to try to guess because i knew i'd just sound like an idiot so i apologized and was ready to just take my water and leave but the guy was nice enough to still run it and said it looked fine, he just couldn't really recommend anything without knowing the size but that if i did figure it out to call and let them know, well, by that point i would have run out of time so i just thanked him and scurried out of there

and i know it's a silly thing to be upset about, especially with everything going on, but i think the thing that really got to me and made me cry on the way home was that this was a scenario where normally i could have just called my dad

my mom was busy at work and i didn't want to bother her, but like....my dad was retired, chances are he would have been at home, asleep in front of the TV with our dog in his lap. and truthfully, he probably would have just gone to the pool store and handled it so that i wouldn't have to clock out for a few hours which meant i had to work later yesterday just to get all my hours in

it's just been stuff like that, where over and over again i'm realizing, "oh, right....yeah" and i just....miss him. a lot.

especially now because in another turn of events, i uh....i guess my mom's dating now? kinda?

she said it wasn't anything serious and like....that's whatever, it's her life, she deserves to be happy, i just can't help but feel conflicted about the whole thing and have really been trying to sit with it for the past few days.

on the one hand i obviously just want her to be happy and i kind of knew on some level that this would probably happen, that she'd at least try it out and i can't say i blame her, she's pretty much only been in like...two serious relationships all her life, one of them being my dad so i get it. but on the other hand it's just kinda like....so, we're not gonna give therapy a shot? y'know that thing i've been more or less begging you to try for years now? we're just gonna.....hop into a relationship and that'll make it all better?

i dunno. i guess i'm just worried because she's not always the best judge of character and can be easily fooled by people, especially when they really put on the charm and i just don't want her (or me by extension) to end up in some fucked up situation because of some asshole

it's also kind of frustrating to me, too because one of her friends who's egging this on is in one of the most toxic garbage dumps of a relationship i've ever seen and it's just like....that's who you're going to listen to?? someone who, i love very much, but in no way has their shit together and is very much only in this relationship because of that and that's whose example you're gonna follow?? okay !!!

i dunno. i've talked with her about it and have mostly just encouraged her to please be careful, please don't jump into anything too fast and please especially if you're going to do this please, please, please consider also doing therapy. i really don't think any relationship should be a substitute for the work a person needs to do on themselves, no matter how nice it may seem to have another person ~~fix you, it's just.....not possible. trust me, i've been trying to do it for everyone i love my entire life and it's never once worked. maybe i'm just shitty at it or maybe, just maybe, it's just....not possible for another person to reach into someone's head and do that interpersonal work for them. i dunno, call me crazy, but it's just been a wall i've been slamming myself into over and over and over again, especially with her and this is still where it's at so like....you tell me !!

but yeah, that's just really thrown me through a loop lately and admittedly, selfishly, in my private time i've had a few breakdowns about it because on a personal level i'm just....not ready for that.

even if it never gets to that point where i have a ~stepdad or what the fuck ever, i just don't know if i'm ready to see her with someone besides my dad and i'm sure if she does meet someone good who's good to her and really makes her happy i'll suck it up and just cheer them on but like....fuck if it isn't going to kill me inside a little

i dunno, i guess we'll see what happens. i guess also selfishly i'm just dreading the worst because i also feel like all of my life i've watched person after person after person that i love get into a bad situation because of a relationship and i know it's just part of life and maybe if i'd be a little braver it would happen to me as well, but it just sucks and i really don't want her to get hurt because if she was struggling before i can only imagine how much worse it might get if she gets with the wrong person or if it just doesn't turn out well for whatever reason.

ultimately, though, it's pretty much out of my hands. that was one thing i've learned from my own time in therapy is that i really shouldn't make myself be so responsible for other people's shit and not in that shitty twitter way of like, "nobody owes anyone anything!!" or whatever, but like.... i really have spent a good chunk of my life throughout multiple relationships trying to take on other people's stuff for them and i just....can't anymore.

it's not that i don't care, it's not that i don't want to see people succeed and be happy, it's just like i said before, i'm not physically possible of going into anyone else's head and messing around with the wires in there to make them connect in whatever way that will finally make someone else realize that they're loved already and really do mean something to me and to others

i feel like i've done a lot through my actions (and words) to try to convey my love, but beyond that point it's simply just not possible for me to make someone else actually internalize those things and overcome insecurities and hangups. i'll do the best i can, but there are just some thing that aren't possible for me to do and i've about wrung myself completely dry trying

so yeah, that's just some of what's been going on with me lately. just been a lot to process and a lot to deal with and on top of that, i also have two aunts that are in florida right now who i think just got their power back on yesterday so i'm glad for that and i'm glad they're okay but that was also just...kinda of a nightmare time with this past storm

especially because one of my aunts (i'll just call her aunt B and the other one aunt N since they're names start with the same letter), aunt B, initially made it seem like she and her partner were just gonna...y'know, ride out the storm. in their not-at-all-built-for-this-shit garage.

mind you, aunt N, who's been living in florida for the past 30 years and has ridden out every storm up until this point, actually decided to seek shelter further inland at the place she works at so it's like....hey, if she's going to take cover i think you two, who live even closer to the water, should probably like.....not just climb into a boat in your garage and wait for the waves to come get you or what the hell ever the plan was

they also had my mom all upset because B's partner was like, "we'll text you the bank information so you can have access" and shit like that and it's like ????? hey, can we not??? please??

they did end up getting in the storm shelter one of their neighbors has so thank fuck for that, but the cell service at that time was almost non-existent so between these texts were had to wait a long time and were both just losing our shit because we didn't know what was going on and it just...yeah

aunt N also said that when she got back to the neighborhood she had a break down because so many people's places were just destroyed and it was so incredibly devastating.

she thought initially that her roof was gone but it turns out it was the crumpled up remains of one of her neighbor's roofs that had blown onto hers so she's been trying to get them hooked up with some help to fix that

i gotta give it to my aunt N, too, because her work had only extended an offer to her to come seek shelter but she rounded up as many people in her neighborhood as she could, grabbed her cat and they all headed over to wait for Milton to pass

the other element of this is, i think part of the reason aunt B's partner was being that way about everything was because aunt N offered to come get them as well but because she still has a grudge against aunt N (for some shit she started, mind you !!!) she was just...y'know, gonna commit herself and aunt B to dying rather than accept aunt N's help

which just.....alright. fuckin' alright then.

like i said before, everyone please go to therapy. or just....something. because i've seen so many examples of what happens when you don't and you decide to make the world your enemy instead or flip on people who genuinely just want to help and love you and this is where it gets you. pulling stupid stunts like that and putting other people's lives at risk over petty fucking bullshit

and if anything, considering aunt N was the one who was wronged in this situation, i really think it was big of her to even extend that offer in the first place because i know that woman can hold a grudge but even in that instance was she like, "hey, i don't like this person but you're with my sister and i still love her so can we put this shit aside for a minute and just work together so nobody gets hurt?"

and the fact that aunt B's partner STILL hasn't budged is just....wild to me. like ma'am, you put a ransom style note in aunt N's mailbox calling her a cunt (once again over some shit YOU started) and you're really going to be like this?? during a natural disaster?? okay. whatever, man.

i'm just glad everyone's okay and i know aunt B and her partner were thinking about moving back up here anyway so hopefully they'll more seriously consider that instead of just sending my mom on a wild goose chase all over the place looking for perfectly good homes that aunt B's partner will turn down for bullshit reasons like "the yard doesn't have any mature trees" or what the hell ever

i guess we'll see on that, too.

in happier news, though, i get to see my nieces this weekend because one of them's having a little birthday party so that should be fun !!

i'm going to go to bed soon because i actually need to go buy her a present tomorrow as well as take the trash off and get some groceries so hopefully i find her something good !!

oh and they did come out to close the pool today which i'm always sad to see go but by the last few times i had gotten in there i couldn't feel my toes so i guess it's time and i'll have to find some other way to exercise

on the upside, though, i should have more time for other stuff i've been putting off because i'd been spending a lot of time out there just...trying to heal and shit so hopefully soon i'll get back to my puzzles and learning guitar and reading more books and all that jazz

and of course the closer it gets to halloween the better so i hope everyone has a wonderful spoopy season and are trying to find some enjoyment in whatever you can right now, especially if you love fall and hopefully you'll hear from me again before too long <3

#just a little life update

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phoenix-angel-suyari · 4 years ago

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I’m having a really rough day and I can’t even drink.

I don’t even know where to start...

So, I think I’m just gonna bullet point this bitch.

- On Monday, I missed my therapy appointment which I only get once every 2-3 weeks and never seem to be long enough at anywhere from 20-40 minutes per session depending upon my therapist’s availability. There’s a LOT wrong with my therapy situation, but at the moment I’m honestly, seriously lucky to be able to have therapy at all in the first place. So as much as it sucks, at the very least I am receiving mental health care and that’s all that matters.

However, my missed therapy appointment was not my fault. The night before I was called by the office in regards to my appointment and the coming storm. I was offered a rescheduled in person or a telehealth appointment. Now, as much as I despise the telehealth appointments - entirely because of my living situation - as rare as my appointments can be, semi-consistent therapy has caused me to sort of NEED them. I never get around to actually talking about what I need or want to talk about, but just venting some things is helpful so I opted for the telehealth appointment instead. I was told my appointment had been turned into a telehealth and would retain it’s time slot.

The next morning, I made sure I was awake and prepared. Nine o’clock came. No phone call. So, I waited. Ten o’clock came. No phone call. By eleven, I thought, I’d make brunch (I only eat twice a day) because I needed to take my medication. By twelve, I figured, I’d go shovel because the snow was coming down by the foot. My therapist called while I was shoveling and was told I was unavailable. She said she’d call back at 1. So I finished up, took a quick shower to get warm and waited. I ended up waiting all day and she never called back.

I’d assumed initially when time was going by and she wasn’t calling that perhaps I had been the only one who opted for telehealth and she’d misread an email that had let her know she essentially had the day free. I still don’t know what happened there, but I am hoping it doesn’t count as some sort of strike against me (the hospital has a three strikes and they drop you situation) because it was NOT my fault.

Regardless, now it’s gonna be over a month between when I last spoke to my therapist and when I next speak to my therapist. And honestly, the only saving grace is that I will be seeing my Psychiatrist on Tuesday and she’ll listen to me and I can cry in her office if I need to then.

- I’m smack dab in the middle of a mid life crisis and I’ve been struggling with it. I know I’d still be where I am if not for covid, but I still can’t help like feeling as if covid has made me lose valuable time I will never get back and which I am quickly running out of to turn my life around.

This has not been aided at all by a slew of strange but not disturbing, just confusing as hell dreams, and my family being my family.

- Speaking of my family...

Yesterday, some of us who have been tested recently and/or already finished receiving both doses of vaccination got together for the first time in a year. And it was nice. Enjoyable. I couldn’t really drink because my new meds really do not mesh well with alcohol - which I tested safely at home and learned the hard way.

Now, it’s important to note that my sister has been pressuring me to open an OnlyFans because in her opinion it’s something easy I can do to make money and it makes no sense for me not to. (We’re not going to get into these “discussions” held previously, only know there have been way more than there should be.)

So, we’re talking and I point out that everyone sitting around the table is married already and so they at least don’t have to worry about finding someone in all this mess, as it drags on longer and longer. I finally caved and after years of just letting them come at me while not bothering to ever do any work like introducing me to someone they thought I might get along with, I confronted them about it. I was like, “Look, everyone seems to forget they met their spouses through someone else INTRODUCING them. So, if you know someone who’s single and looking for long term - marriage and a family - then please, feel free to hook me up.”

I was then told - rather seriously - that I should go on a tv show. I - rightly so - pointed out that I didn’t trust shows like that to set me up with anyone because they’re all about the drama and why should I even have to go on tv for something like that. My sister then proceeded to tell everyone how she thought I should open an OnlyFans. Instead of being surprised or anything by this, my family proceeded to spend the next hour trying to convince me to do something I don’t want to do. They basically laid it all out in a start to finish establishing a fan base and getting a patreon to crowdfund the basics for an OnlyFans. They worked out and tried to sell me on content I could offer and when I countered, “Even if I wanted to - which I DON’T - explain to me how the hell I’m supposed to do any of that in THAT house.” The answer being that it was entirely possible. I just had to figure it out.

My sister said, “You do it like you do when you exercise.” And like when I WHAT?! I’m not ALLOWED to exercise. It “makes too much noise” and invites derision. Which I then have to suffer through. She then proceeded to inform me that I could always establish a career as a Sugar baby. “You don’t even have to have sex with them, you just have to dress pretty and make them feel important.” Can I do the second one? Absolutely. The first is not possible. We argued about it and she was like, “It works! My friend did it in college and she got an apartment and everything!” And I countered that even though there’s nothing wrong with that, it’s a LIFESTYLE and it’s most lucrative for people in their twenties, not someone like me. Which apparently, is an excuse? Because I need an excuse to object to something I fucking objected to when I was IN my twenties.

So, anyway, I learned that my family seems to enjoy my singleness as a source of conversation, if not entertainment, but which is somehow fulfilling for them because even when I come right out and fucking ASK THEM to HELP ME find someone, it somehow becomes that I don’t need a someone when I can be a camgirl instead.

I even pointed out that I could make JUST AS MUCH with a cute dog whom I could make an entire social media platform for and was told in like the most what the fuck moment of the evening, “With what money?!” Like, are you fucking SERIOUS?! There was a whole conversation detailing and planning how to get me to be a camgirl and we can’t figure out a fucking DOG?!

I am so fucking done with all of it.

- I was feeling really sick last night when I got home, like I might throw up and so I just took a shower and went to bed. But, because I did that, I never took any of my meds last night - which is when I take the bulk of them - and my body is just NOT HAVING IT.

- For some reason my family wanted to have a dog movie marathon today that like, I enjoy those movies, but they’re emotional as fuck for me and I was already not feeling okay, and then wanted to subject me to that. I watched like half an hour of one and then left.

- I’m not even getting into the dinner fiasco.

I took a fucking swan dive into a depressive oubliette and the only thing I can hope for is that taking my meds tonight will give me the protective boost enough to not be completely lost tomorrow. I have now learned the hard way that my explanation to my doctors about how my anti-depressants are like doing the brunt of the work to make me capable of daily life without a complete mental breakdown is in fact not a handy analogy. I have learned my lesson. I will not be missing a dose again.

I’ve never been a smoker but my god, could I use a cigarette right now.

I did receive some good news this week at least. My liver’s finally healed. I’m gonna have to be on medication for the rest of my life to ensure that, but that’s one organ that forgave me at least.

I’m going back to sleep.

#my life #my family

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bluesimba · 6 years ago

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Post Glory

Fandom: Persona 5

Pairing: Akira/Reader, Ryuji/Reader

Warnings: Heavy spoilers, explicit depictions of depression, intense grieving, and trauma.

Notes: Can we talk about how much trauma the Phantom Thieves have been through in canon

Dedicated to @ao3-actually-android <3

[I]

November 1st.

The receptionist at the front desk glances at you from under her bangs for the fourth time. She adjusts the collar of her shirt and types something with a flutter of her hands. From the corner of the waiting room, a member of your security team stares at her.

You pick up one of the magazines on the table in front of you. The glossy pages pass between your fingers, and several diagrams of the brain pop up with its functions outlined. Terms like depression and anxiety and trauma stand out on almost every page. They cycle through your head again, but this time it’s not three hours after you swallowed sleeping pills.

Breathing on beat with the ebbing and flowing of the waiting room’s music makes your head less congested.

A door locks the waiting room off from the offices, and a woman in a light pink dress steps through. Her voice carries your name. When you stand up and gesture for your security team to stay put, she smiles at you.

“Hi,” she says as she leads you to her office. “My name is Kaede. It’s a pleasure to meet you.” She tells you her qualifications.

“Pleasure to meet you, too! I’m sorry I had to reschedule at the last minute. It’s been pretty hectic.”

By hectic do you mean being fused with the fibers of your bed? Or avoiding the growing mountains of clutter that sprung up in your room? How about how it’s taxing to grab your phone charger from the floor? Or worst of all, not being able to articulate why you can’t do anything, instead masking it with “busy” or “hectic” or “sorry, I can’t do that today.”

“That’s no problem. Our specialized program is very flexible with our clients’ schedules.” She opens her office door for you. You take the seat next to her desk, and while you marvel at the cohesion of colors in her office, she sits behind her desk, clicks her mouse, and brings up a tab on the computer. “Before we begin, everything we talk about here is strictly between us. Nothing will be shared unless you become a threat to yourself or others.”

“Okay.”

“So, I read over your personal statement, and you mentioned you made an appointment for therapy because you feel untethered. Can you elaborate on what lead to that feeling?”

“Sure, so I’ll start with the Phantom Thieves.”

[II]

August.

Café Leblanc’s red closed sign protects you from the swarming streets. Hives of reporters frenzy outside, lanyards around their necks and cameras in hand. Your hand knocks against the salt and pepper shakers as the others crowd in the booth, with Makoto next to you. Across from you, Ryuji inhales an appetizer.

Futaba glares at Yusuke, who sips tea from a white cup. She pushes her glasses up and scrunches her nose.

“Inari, acknowledge that your left leg is shorter than your right,” she says.

“Nonsense, my legs are symmetrical, that I can assure you.”

She pulls out her phone and ignores her cup of coffee, which is four sizes too big for her. You and Makoto exchange glances.

You lean over the table to come out from the corner. “And what’s the point of arguing over Yusuke’s leg difference, Futaba? You’ve both been squabbling more ever since. . .”

Futaba halts trying to pull up Yusuke’s medical records. Sojiro stops waxing the bar just for a minute, his pink shirt now too vibrant for the solemnity washing over his face. The legs of the Phantom Thieves sit around the table, but Akira’s absence comes with its own ghost. Two years and his ghost still follows.

Makoto seems like she’s on the other side of the world, now, from you.

Akira who solves everything. Akira who acts as the unifying pillar. He makes you ache. He makes you lonely, untethered. The thrills, the disguises, the abilities, they all have his name on them. Everything about him scrambles you.

“Anyway.” You cough. “I’ve been thinking we should do something together since we’re all off right now. You know, like the good ol’ days.”

Silence resounds in Leblanc, but Ryuji grins and it warms your heart. “That’s awesome! Whaddya say, guys?” He looks around at everyone, and his enthusiasm brings everyone back together.

“That would be nice, especially since it’s been so long,” Makoto says. She shuts her eyes for a second. “Do you have anything specific in mind?”

You hum. “How about the beach? I think the last time we all went together was when we went to Hawaii a few years ago. We could pick up a game of beach volleyball!”

“And it’d be a good chance to get some sun!” Ann says.

Everyone takes out their phone calendars, and Makoto, the master of organization herself, makes quick work of it. “How does the last Saturday this month sound for everyone?” she asks.”That way we can avoid Autumn from September to November.”

November.

It takes you away. It stuffs your heart in your throat. Everyone else continues planning, unfazed, but Ryuji notices. And his smile dims.

Makoto calls your name, but it doesn’t register. So does Ann.

“Wendy.” Futaba puts down her phone.

You blink. Wendy. Wendy. Your real name doesn’t bring you out of it. Wendy, your alias, with a fishing hook on it tugs you out of Neverland.

“Oh, sorry.” You blink again for good measure and to reassure everyone you aren’t a stone statue. “It’s just been a. . .” Hard? Debilitating? Exhaustive for reasons you can’t articulate? “Busy time. I guess it caught up with me all at once.” There it is. Busy.

“Happens to the best of us.” Makoto smiles. “Does that date work for you?”

“Absolutely,” you say without glancing at your calendar.

Over the next fifteen minutes the Phantom Thieves disperse—Ann with a modeling gig she’s got to make, Makoto for a lunch with Sae, Yusuke to read up on art theory, Haru for a meeting, and Futaba to make memes. Ryuji is the only one who stays.

Leblanc’s quietness disturbs Ryuji to his core. You see it by the way he fidgets and leans back to yawn. When he knows you’ve caught him, he looks away.

“Hey,” he says.

“Hey. What’s up?”

Sticking his elbow on the bar, he puts his hand on the side of his neck. “You can talk to me if you need to.”

Right. November. Robin Hood. Goro.

“Thank you, Ryuji.” You avert your eyes downward. “But this is something personal.”

He leans back against the booth, putting more distance between you two, and he looks. . .he looks something you can’t decipher. Wounded? No, small. After a second he brings back his smile to mend the air. “No problem. Just gotta look out for one of my best buds.”

“Hey, do you know if Morgana is stil. . .”

“Upstairs? Yeah, I think he sleeps up there sometimes, since, you know.”

“Let’s invite him to the beach with the rest of us.”

“The cat? And sand ? Now that’s something I gotta see.”

“Don’t be mean, Ryuji!”

When he laughs you have to choke down your own. The light in Leblanc hits him just right, and he looks untouched by the corruption, by the palaces, by Yaldabaoth. Hope lives in his eyes and dreams light up his cheeks.

November’s weight sits on your shoulders. Akechi Goro’s death lingers. The Robin Hood to your Wendy is sleeping. And to think, he was eighteen.

Your brother would have been twenty this year.

[III]

The beach concaves away from the rest of society. Stray beach towels spot the sand and the waves edge up to reach for their ends. Cliff edges meet the ocean under the inky new moon sky.

Tiny lights hang up on a string and frame the entrance of the restaurant you eat at. Morgana peers at Ann from the stool next to her with hearts in his eyes. Sometimes he tries to steal a glance at Futaba’s phone, only for her to yank it close to her chest. If the beach behind you disappeared, no one would blink twice.

Morgana wanders over to you and Ryuji and hops on one of the two empty stools that separate you both from everyone else. His lip curls and a smile sneaks out. You shield your bowl of ramen in case he decides to pounce on the bar. There’s not a chance in hell you’re letting him knock over this art; a prepared egg sliced clean in half with its golden yolk on display, a spread of colors blended together, and flavors that glide over your tongue and keep you coming back for more.

“Looks like you got burned, Ryuji.” He licks his paw and glances at Ryuji from the corners of his eyes.

Ryuji’s lips screw, and he tries to cross his arms but winces because of the sunburn spread over his body. “It’s not like I knew the sun was gonna be raging today.” He looks at you. “And you knew and didn’t tell me!”

You laugh. “Sorry, but you should’ve brought the sunscreen anyway.”

“Yeah, yeah, whatever. At least I wasn’t afraid to get in the water.”

A smirk cuts your lips, and you cover Morgana’s ears. “Don’t make fun of him! Of course he wouldn’t get in the water!” Turning to Morgana, you coo at him in a voice you know makes his skin crawl. “That punk didn’t mean it, Morgana. Don’t listen to him. I’ll protect you.”

“Don’t act like you didn’t get in, either! And who are you callin’ a punk?”

When you uncover Morgana’s ears, he takes the chance to slip away.

“Oh come on, Ryuji, you were being a little punk-y.”

“Was not!”

“Really? Then maybe we should get everyone else’s opinions.”

Before you can call out to everyone and make Ryuji’s skin even brighter, he hoists you up and throws you over his shoulder. He winces but starts walking to the shoreline.

“Did you forget you were sunburned?”

Two beats of silence echo between you two before he answers. “It’s no big deal. Besides, you’re getting wet at least once today.”

The fool. The absolute buffoon. The heat under your face erupts.

“You’re hopeless, Ryuji.”

He says something you don’t catch because blood detonates in your ears over and over again. Your heart chokes on an overload of sugar. It’s buried in a sugary grave. You protest by muttering into his shoulder.

Only a few inches of space are between you and the water by the time he stops walking. He’s a few inches shy of being chest-deep. If you flick your foot down, you’d skim the water for sure, but there’s no fun in tearing his dream of dunking you away.

“Hold on, gimme a sec.”

That doesn’t sound good.

It isn’t.

He shifts you around and you flail, then you wind up in his arms. Your heart, stuffed with sugar, is revived by the way he looks at you. Light rosy tinges whip over his cheeks, and he turns his head away from you for a second.

Once he collects himself, he counts off with a mischievous glint in his eyes.

“One, two. . .”

“Just do it already!”

When he lets go, you see him mouth the number three. The water floods over your face and body, and you seal your eyes shut.

It’s quiet, here. You kick up some sand with your heel while trying to get your bearings straight, but the ocean swallows the noise. All you have is how the grainy the sand feels.

How did Goro feel on that sinking ship? Explosive? Confused? Destroyed?

Helpless?

Did you even know your brother well?

How can you even attempt to understand the pits of helplessness and wrath he drowned in when something like this—going for a swim—sets you off? How can you grieve for so long and know so little?

Someone’s calling your name, but the sounds are muffled by the water.

Ryuji plunges his hand in and brings you back. The ocean’s surface breaks with your head, and your resurfacing looks less “majestic mermaid with perfect hair” and more “air exists and it’s delicious.”

After a second he brings you close to him, wrapping you in a hug. You press against his collarbone.

“Ryuji, what’s wrong?”

“I just got worried, ‘s all.”

You pull back. “Well, I’m all right. You made sure of that when you pulled me out. See? Nothing bad would’ve happened.”

He avoids your gaze. “I tried calling your name.”

“I think I heard that. You might’ve had better luck if you called me Wendy. Seems like I can hear that from around the world.”

Wendy tells you what to say, how to smile, what to wear, what to think, and who to be. If you do everything she says, you can stand next to Robin Hood and Peter Pan and all the other fairytale characters who are bound to the pages of their own stories. Wendy makes you worthy.

She was always the press’ favorite.

“I ain’t gonna call you Wendy. ‘s not who you are.” He says your name under the moonless sky in such a way that it might break if the ocean got too close to it. “You ain’t Wendy.”

You aren’t Wendy.

“I—I appreciate that. A lot.”

He looks at the beach. “You don’t gotta thank me. Let’s get back before the others come lookin’ for us.”

Both of you tread in silence. After a minute the water slides off you, but the sand sticks to your wet feet as you climb out of the ocean. You both wander over to his beach towel; its colors were blasted dry by the sun earlier.

When you sit down, you sit close to him and your shoulders bump. Beads of water trail your neck, your arms, and your legs. You glimpse him staring out at the ocean.

“It’s nice being out here,” you say. You reel back the words “with you” when you think about Akira.

“Yeah? Can’t say I’ve ever had a sunburn this big before.”

You roll your eyes and bring your knees to your chest, but the smile sailing over your lips slips out. “Which is because you didn’t bring sunscreen.”

“Pffft, there’s no way a stupid sunburn’s gonna get a leg up on me.”

Along the beach there are sandcastles, some in perfect condition, some folded in on themselves, and some that exist only as lumps of sand. A tiny red and white store-bought flag pokes out of a collapsing one. The tide rolls in and out and chips away at the ones along the shoreline.

“It’s kind of nice to be away from the world for a bit,” you say. “You know? Sequestered away from the reporters and everything.”

He puts his arms behind and lies on his back. “You’re telling me. Been hounding us ever since our identities were released. I mean, who does that! We were seventeen!”

“We were seventeen and arguably the most powerful force in Japan.”

“C’mon, we were kids. You should know how all that affected us better than anyone. You’re majoring in psych and all that stuff.”

“By affected you mean the stress it’d have on a developing teenage brain?”

“That! Someone should tell all those reporters to read up on that shit.”

Streams of conversation come from the restaurant. The rest of the Phantom Thieves tell jokes and bicker and bask in the restaurant’s lighting. Judging from that spilling sound, Morgana jumped on the bar.

“They’ve been hanging around my favorite places. It got bad a few weeks ago,” you say.

“Whadda they want?”

You shift. “An interview with Wendy.��

He makes a sound of disgust. “Tell ‘em to screw off. You don’t know a Wendy.”

Leaning against him right now would be nice. You’d fit next to him well, and he’d sling his arm over your shoulders. Under the moonless sky, you’d both be two halves of a complete moon.

But you do know a Wendy. If you were stronger, you could evict her right now with his help. She reminds you of the abilities you had and the times where it was you and the Phantom Thieves versus the world. She reminds you of Goro.

“I’ll keep that in mind.”

Waves continue to crash. Tiny sounds from the ecosystem of the beach wade between you both. He chews the inside of his cheek. When he breathes, it smothers the tiny sounds and the conversations from the restaurant.

“Y’know, I’ve been thinkin’,” he says.

“About?”

He sits up and rubs the back of his neck. “Everything we did, I guess. Changed a lot of stuff.”

You laugh. “It’d be kind of weird if nothing changed when we fought a god. Besides, I thought you’d enjoy the spotlight.”

“You kiddin’? I can’t even run in peace without someone on my ass.”

“Well.” A quick brush of your hands takes some of the sand off, and you get up and hold out your hand. “You can always try now. I’ll race you to fire up that competitive spirit!”

“For real?”

“Yeah.”

He clasps his hand in yours. “Yeah? Don’t cry when you lose.”

[IV]

Doctor Kaede slides a box of tissues to the corner of her desk and you pluck one to have something to hold onto. “What you’re feeling is valid. Have you discussed your grief with anyone else?”

“Only one person, Akira.”

“What about him made you open up?”

Kamoshida, Madarame, Kaneshiro, Futaba, Okumura, Sae, Shido. Hell, the collective social conscious of everyone wrapped up in the endless tracks of Mementos! How many times do you need to add Yaldabaoth to that list, too? Everyone talks about the humans the Phantom Thieves changed, but no one mentions the cosmic-defying entities you defied by daring to be your own people. Akira brought a rag-tag group of teenagers together to challenge the very fabric of the universe.

“I don’t know, really. I guess I thought if anyone could understand, it’d be him. He was the closest to Goro.”

She furrows her eyebrows. “Were you close to your brother?”

You fidget and rub the side of your neck. “We didn’t have that kind of relationship in the traditional sense. He had a hard time opening up, refused to, most of the time. I didn’t know anything about him other than that Shido was somehow involved, but there was something different when Akira showed up.”

“And how did you cope with Goro’s. . .actions?”

She might as well stamp the word “murderer” on his forehead. Is she wrong?

Of course! He was tossed aside by Shido and manipulated as a kid!

No, she isn’t. Goro did that of his own free will.

Come on, you of all people know the toll abuse and manipulation takes on a child.

I know. I know he was in unimaginable pain.

Then why are you sitting here and betraying him?

I’m not betraying him. These are the facts of the situation. I wanted to help him!

You can’t even imagine what he went through. Stop trying. You even admitted some guy got closer to your brother in one year than you did in your whole life.

We’re still family .

“I probably could’ve coped better.”

[V]

October.

Leblanc’s lights give you a headache.

“You gonna be okay, kid?” Sojiro asks as he unfastens his apron.

Hunched over with your forehead against a table, you groan. The bags under your eyes drag your face down, but hey, who needs concealer when no one can see your face?

“Wake me up when people obsess over something else.”

He walks over and pats your shoulder. “You can stay if you lockup. Remember to turn off everything when you leave this time.”

The door opens before you answer. Light, airy, almost, the bell rings. You lift your head, blinking, and turn toward the door. Who comes into a café five minutes before closing? His slim silhouette stands in the doorway while rain splatters on the pavement. Great, you know he’s the type to order something extravagant, expect it in two minutes, and stall closing.

Sojiro whistles and puts one of his hands on his hips. He smiles. “Finally decided to show your face around here, huh, kid?”

In one second he goes from being a stranger to someone who causes the ache in your heart; a curly black head of hair and glasses. Now, though, he’s taller, and the blazer he wears looks like it was plucked from a high-end fashion designer’s wardrobe.

“Akira,” you say. The table wobbles under your hands when you jut up. His very presence reinforces the chronic loneliness, the hollowness everyone tried to patch up with promises to get together, and the messages you and Ryuji and Makoto and Futaba—and everyone sent that were left on read or met with a single word response.

Shock registers on Sojiro’s face when you storm up to Akira, and in some place deep, deep, deep down in your head, a twinge of, what is it—shame or fear?—rears its head. But fuck it. If you looked away, Akira could pull one of his disappearing stunts.

“You asshole!” You jab a finger at him, grind your teeth, seethe, and do all the things that say I hate you, I hate you, I hate you .

Wide-eyed, Sojiro steps in to break you apart. “Hey, hey, hey—”

Akira holds out his hand. “It’s fine.”

“Two years, Akira! You could have called or texted or something, but you didn’t.” You ball your fists. “You vanished.”

Him being here means you need to answer a question: how much can you matter to someone who up and leaves?

“Both of you sit down and cool off,” Sojiro says. “I’ll make you a drink.”

Being a foot and a half away from Akira who now sits across from you makes your jaw tight. The pot in the back brews coffee.

Akira looks you in the eyes. “You’re right to be angry.”

You cross your arms over your chest.

“I needed to make sure no one would cause you any issues,” he says.

“We’ve been followed for the last two years by reporters, Akira. Anyone we know has been hounded, too. Sae’s gotten so much more shit outside the courtroom. We scrubbed Mementos, but there will always be bad intentions.”

Sojiro walks over with your drinks in hand, sets them down in front of you both, and gives you each a glance.

“Thank you,” Akira says. He picks up the mug and brings it to his lips.

“I’ll be in the back. Don’t burn anything down, kid.”

When Sojiro disappears into the back, Akira sets the mug down.

“I wasn’t talking about the press,” he says.

Oh.

“You should’ve told us. We could’ve worked together so you didn’t have to do it on your own.” You look down. “We needed you, too. I needed you, Akira.”

He places his hand on yours. “I know, and I’m sorry.”

Tears line the bottom of your eyes and spill over. “It’s hard when everyone asks about him, you know? And it’s been two years so I feel like I’m supposed to be over it, but I’m not . I keep feeling it again and again and again.” You place your other hand over his. “You have to know how it feels, Akira. No one else gets it. You have to know.”

He says your name, and if your sniffles were any louder, you would have missed it. “Let’s go for a walk.”

Yeah, you need this.

“Where?”

“Trust me.”

He offers you his arm when he gets up, and you cling to him with the skin on your arm and hand touching his blazer.

“Always.”

Quiet streets listen to your footsteps as you take the back alleys. When you're here with him, will the portals come back while you round the corners? Your grip on him tightens. Rain pelts the umbrella.

“You’re nervous,” he says.

“And whose fault is that?”

He smirks.

You pass the little red arcade nestled away from the world where you met Akira for the first time, the old bookstore with a joined café where you ran into him the second time, and a closed movie theater where he got your number the third time. Then, a park comes into view. The wet grass bends to your feet as you both walk to the bench with an overhang.

The wooden bench squeaks when you both sit down, and Akira folds up the umbrella, then leans it against the bench. Ducks waddle out from the pond hidden by bushes.

“I was starfished out on the grass here and screaming when you asked me to join the Phantom Thieves,” you say.

“Morgana thought you were in pain.”

“Oh, I was. I was cramming verb and adjective conjugations. That time feels close and far away at the same time, you know?”

Whenever he casts a glance at you, it’s distant. You could lean against his shoulder, intertwine your fingers, and have your skin on his, but the barrier between you holds. Your heart remains content in your chest instead of lurching in your throat.

He whispers your name. “You talked about Goro earlier.”

Wailed, more like it, but yeah.

“You’re grieving,” he says. “I think seeing a professional would help you.”

What? Your eyes open wide. Does he think you can’t handle it? Does he think you’re broken? Stop. You take a deep breath. You’re not broken. Seeking therapy doesn’t make you broken or fragile. It makes you strong.

“Why?”

“I’m concerned about you. I know an office. They helped me with my trauma.” He puts his hand on yours.

Trauma? Was it trauma? Okumura’s death. Goro’s insatiable craving for revenge. Your brother looking at you, red blood vessels popping in his eyes, like he’d kill you. He said he would. Sweeping away the terrifying sides of Goro let you file everything you don’t like away and lock them up.

When Akira touches you, why do you wish he was Ryuji?

Your nails leave imprints on your palms, little crescent moons. “Can you send me their phone number?”

“Sure.”

All of Akira’s attributes line up with what you want on paper: charismatic, intelligent, sociable. So, why, when he scoots closer to you, do you want him to be Ryuji? Why do you want Ryuji’s arm slung around you and for him to pull you close?

“Akira, what do I mean to you?”

You watch the ducks. He looks at you.

“Everything.”

“I’m sorry.”

He squeezes your hand. “I know.”

[VI]

You puncture holes in the tissue and avoid Doctor Kaede’s eyes.

“Before we end our first session, are you aware of the model the Five Stages of Grief?” She pulls out a piece of paper with the stages of them in one column—denial, anger, bargaining, depression, and acceptance.

“Yes.”

“Are you practicing self-care strategies?” She runs her finger down the other column, and you hone in on one or two of the thirty or more strategies.

“Sometimes, but it’s hard to talk about when I don’t know how to put the words together.” You jam your hands together.

She nods. “Grief is especially difficult to navigate because we’re not taught how to cope and understand what we’re feeling. If you’re comfortable, talking about how you’re feeling with people you trust could also help. Sometimes we seek external understanding because we’re unsure of how we feel on the inside.”

Akira—you poured and projected on him. He became your only emotional outlet.

“Grief comes in stages and everyone processes it in different ways. No matter what, you’re not alone.”

“Thank you, Doctor Kaede.” You smile. “Can I make a follow-up appointment for next week?”

You’re not alone. You’re never alone.

[VII]

November 2nd.

You hole yourself up in your apartment, as per usual on the second of November. Glimmering stars peek through your closed curtains. All at once, numbness takes you and keeps you suspended from the rest of the world.

Rings from your phone don’t bring you down. Each minute passes on lethargic legs, and you don’t need anything or anyone to tell you it’s 12:34 a.m. As soon as it was 12:01, you knew. Packets of candy litter your nightstand. You sink into your bed.

Someone raps their knuckles against your door. You turn away from it.

Ryuji calls your name.

You slug one leg out from underneath the blankets, then the other leg. The cool doorknob sends a shiver up your spine.

“Hey,” Ryuji says. He takes a moment to catch his breath. “Sorry it took me so long to get here. I had to run.”

One blink, then two, then three. He’s here for you. He remembered, and your throat constricts.

“Hey. Thanks.”

“Wanna sit outside?”

“Yeah, I do.”

You step out, closing the door behind you. Autopilot takes over when you lead him to a sitting area with two foldable chairs next to each other. Instead of sitting, you wander over to the gray railing and peer down to the busy street. He stands next to you, and you let the silence talk between you two.

Akira is everything you want on paper, but Ryuji—Ryuji is real and here. You touch his hand and trace the veins.

“Thanks for remembering, Ryuji.”

He catches every flutter of your eyes, and when you lean into him, he laces your fingers together. His hands, steady and warm, ground you.

“‘course, I’d do anything for you.”

You ask him a medley of questions: Why are you putting so much effort in? Why do I feel this again and again and again? Why can’t I let go?

Please, will you stay?

But they all roll themselves together when you look into his eyes, hands still intertwined, and breathe his name: “Ryuji.”

His name is air for your lungs. His touch is the sun walking on your skin. His closeness is a catharsis you’d only ever caught in Neverland before.

He brushes the side of your face with his free hand and kisses your forehead under the half moon. “Anything for you.”

Together, in time, you both could make a full moon.

#akira kusuru #ryuji sakamoto #persona 5 #akira/reader #ryuji/reader #akira/reader/ryuji #akira x reader #ryuji x reader #makoto niijima #goro akechi #futaba #yusuke kitagawa #haru okumura #sojiro sakura #morgana persona 5 #love triangle #here's a wall of text for y'all

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chaotic-dumbass-witch · 6 years ago

Text

So guys

Since I had a panic attack at school today and an entire thing happened, I was sent to the psychoéducatrice, and we talked about a lot of stuff, and my today’s French exam was rescheduled, so I’ll do it next Thursday (I am forever thankful for my directrice, she kind of terrifies me but she’s actually super nice), and also the psychoéducatrice told me about a place where I can apparently get free therapy or something?????? I am baffled??? All I need to do is call there (which is gonna be really difficult because 1. I am terrified of phone calls, and 2. My mother’s gonna murder me if I ever call anyone ever) and somehow set an appointment and tell my mother “oh I’m going to the gym” or something on those days and just go there, and it’s free???????? And since I’m 16, parents don’t have to know!! That’s like that when someone becomes 14, but still!!! Oh and the psychoéducatrice will give me the number of the place next week if she finds it and if she doesn’t by then she’s gonna tell it to me as soon as she finds it, and I told her that my mother will demand to know who I’m talking to on the phone and will read my messages, she said that we’ll find a way to somehow do it at school or something and she could help me or something, and she’s completely okay with me lying to my mother and she said she’s very disappointed at my mother and would Really like to say A Few Words to her as in “your parenting is crap” or something I’m assuming, and I was allowed to say fuck!!!

The only problem now is that my dumbass has accepted that she tells some stuff about it to my directrice and honestly there’s some things I don’t want her to know because I’m kind of terrified of her being disappointed in me also I am quite ashamed of my gym class panic attack

Oh also when I was just talking about how frustrating it is to be around my mother and how my mother is in general, the psychoéducatrice went like “you know that’s borderline psychological abuse right” and i just stared into the abyss for a few seconds and shrugged

Of course I know, dude

I have to keep re-realizing it

It sucks

And she also said that nothing bad’s gonna happen unless I tell her my mother hits me

Obviously I’m not gonna do it cause I’m terrified

But like??? We’ve been there, that’s been done many times, last time was maybe a year ago but there’s still the constant death threats or “I’m going to hurt you” threats

Also I told her that I use Tumblr as a coping mechanism by just screaming into the void of this website in the middle of the night and she told me to keep doing that and also she won’t tell my mother about the fact that I’ve tumblr

Oh also four adults at school today came up to me and touched my shoulder and asked if I’m okay

That was uncomfortable

I am very ashamed of this entire day and this will never be spoken of again and I will hide from it and ignore it entirely and no one can stop me because next week I’m gonna come back to school completely unemotional and dead inside yet still internally screaming but not showing it

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northofsomewhererp · 6 years ago

Text

Your Name, Age (17+), & Timezone: Meg, 23 (yikes), EST

Eleanor B. King turned 27 years old on March 7th. She a therapist and tarot reader in Greensville. Her face claim is Deborah Ann Woll.

Admin Note: I haven’t even finished Hannibal and I’m STILL upset about the cancellation! For Eleanor, all you need to do now is send in her account, and wait ‘til her follow’s up to start posting. And ... we love you too!

Bio:

Eleanor barely had time to take her first breath that her existence was almost instantly unwanted. Her father disappeared without a trace half an hour after holding her for the first time, and her own mother, Aimee, resented her ever since. The only person in her corner, for her entire life, has always been and will always be her older brother, Dexter. The bond they share is inexplicable, durable. Throughout their entire childhood, Dex was behind her, watching her back and protecting her. Whether it be from their own mother’s harsh words, or kids at school just being stupid, he never let Eleanor down. He was her shoulder to cry on, her rock. That was, at least, until the attack.

Nori was only 17 years old when Dexter finally decided to move away from Greensville. Although it took some getting used to, the mere thought of her protector being far away from her, King refused to be the reason her big brother wasn’t pursuing his dreams. She’d held him back long enough. But what she didn’t know was that the embrace they shared at the airport would be their last. The plane never even left the ground, hijacked by terrorists with excessive demands, as they usually do. Dexter, as heroic as ever, tried to stand up to them, and it cost him his life. He was 23 years old.

Eleanor’s life got entirely flipped upside down with the news of her brother’s passing. She found herself at the lowest she’d ever been, while only being at the beginning of her life. She felt lost, uncertain… Nothing made sense anymore without Dex by her side. Her mother got harsher, going as far as to blame his passing on her, saying she shouldn’t of encouraged him to leave. Needless to say, life at home was tense. And it was by dumb luck that Ellie stumbled upon a fortune teller’s store on her way home one day. Having nothing to lose anymore, she went in. But what awaited her behind these doors would change her entire life.

It was her spiritual awakening. Watching this mysterious woman shuffle cards and lay out her whole life in front of her very eyes, without any prior knowledge of her very own existence completely rocked Eleanor. She remained shocked for days on end, and was a believer since that very day. She began looking into tarot herself, even asking the fortune teller, Matilda, for some guidance. Which she gave, teaching her everything she knew. Ways to sharpen your intuition, how to manifest good things and how to use affirmations. Nori fell head first into this world. It was the first thing that felt right since Dexter had left. But all good things must come to an end.

When rumors started spreading that King was offering tarot readings to her classmates, surely it got back to Aimee’s ears, and she wasn’t too pleased. She wasn’t ever pleased with anything Nori accomplished, and so, gave her an ultimatum. Drop the “voodoo shit”, as she’d call it, or get the hell out of her house. Without a father or immediate family to turn to, Ellie obeyed and vowed to repress that side of her. She went on to become a therapist, a career she’d lusted after for a while now, but that had been sitting on the back burner ever since she discovered her passion for the mystique. But that always came second to her selfless nature, lending a hand to anyone that would ask.

Having earned her Bachelor’s degree in Psychology and then her Master’s in Mental Health Counseling, Eleanor now strives toward getting her licence, to finally join a private practice and not have someone constantly peek over her shoulder. Even in her current work environment though, it’s known that she isn’t… traditional.

Activity (1-10): 6

Have you read the rules?: removed

In the event that you leave, can we keep your biography for future use? nori’s my baby! no touchie! Any comments/questions?: i love y’all and you are both sweethearts!

Sample( 2+ paragraphs):

“Alright Bradley”, she chirps, closing her notebook and offering her client the brightest of smiles, “your hour’s finished.” Eleanor stands up, dusts herself off a little before meeting the man halfway to rest a comforting hand on his shoulder. “I’m really proud of you, had a big breakthrough today, huh?” Bradley only nods, hints of sadness still linger on his features and it’s tearing her up inside.

“…I want you to come see me tomorrow, is that okay?” she’s already halfway in to grabbing her agenda off her desk when the lack of response rings in her ears. She searches for his gaze, but he absolutely won’t glance her way, ashamed.

“Bradley… You have my phone number, you know where my office is. Any time you need me? You call me. I’m here. I have other numbers I can provide you with, as well. You’re not alone… I know you hole up and think you are, but you’re not. Above anything, I’m here for you.”, she tries, but her client remains unresponsive.

“I know how tough it is to go digging around in all of this, but I don’t want you to do anything you’d regret. You’re making real progress here, we’re going somewhere… We can’t let up now, mhm?” Eleanor says soothingly. “I just… I don’t think this was a good idea. Dad said two sessions, that’s all I’d need. It’s been six now and I… I don’t want to.” Bradley’s eyes unwillingly fill themselves with unshed tears, and Eleanor’s heart breaks.

“I’m never going to force you to continue therapy, Bradley. You’re of legal age to make your own choices. So if you stayed this long, don’t you think it’s because… maybe some part of you, buried deep inside, is getting what it needs from our time together?” King bites her lip, very careful with her wording, as to not offend her already fragile patient.

All he offers in reply is a soft sob, one he’s so desperately trying to hold in. Eleanor tentatively reaches out for him, rubbing soft circles in the small of his back. “You’re gonna be okay, Bradley… Listen, I’m gonna put you up for tomorrow, same time. Just… give me a call if you can’t and we’ll try to reschedule, that alright?”

The boy finally calms down enough to nod, reaching to wipe his eyes. Dr King gracefully offers him a tissue, and that’s when a knock comes at the door.

“T- That must be my dad… Thank you, Dr. King… for everything. I’ll see you tomorrow.” He finally agrees, waving at her as he walks out the door.

The moment she’s alone, Eleanor lets out a soft sigh. The energy in this room was too heavy to bear, and with a 15 minutes to spare before her next appointment, she decides now’s as good a time as any to sage her space. She makes sure to write down a note concerning Bradley’s possible appointment as she approaches her desk, then puts her agenda on top of it. She scours through the drawers and pulls out the remainders of her previous sage, lights it and then begins to smudge the entire room.

A kind smile plays on Ellie’s lips as she waves the sage around, watching intently as smoke seeps out and swirls around the room. She immediately feels herself getting lighter, the dark energies fading away slowly but surely. When the room’s proper foggy and her sage runs out, she makes for the windows, cracking one open to bring in fresh air. One quick look at her watch reassures her that she still has 8 minutes before her next appointment and so, she paces to her desk once more. Her eyes flicker from her agenda to the tarot deck neatly sitting on the edge of her work space. Without hesitation, she grabs it, absentmindedly shuffling the cards and whispering.

“May I read these cards with the highest accuracy, the best of intentions, and for the greatest good of all.” Nori takes in a deep breath, only the soft sounds of cards filling the room now. “Please give me insight on a potential future for Bradley… if he goes through with therap-” she interrupts herself with a gasp, a card flying out of the deck on its own, face down.

She delicately picks it up, flips it around only to reveal:

“The Star.”

#rp #roleplay #original character #submission #accepted

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plainlybiasa · 3 years ago

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on life : 2021.08.10

so it’s been...idk, half a year? since my last post here?

and that means i’ve been seeing my psychiatrist for quite a few times now.

turns out i have both physical & mental reasons for my nausea :

the endoscope shows that the band at the end of my esophagus, which is supposed to keep stuff in my stomach from going back up, is sorta ‘loose’ & i can’t do anything to prevent that permanently unless i opted for a surgery. but the doctor advised that it’s not too serious for a surgery, but it’s really up to me if i decide to do it one day. or if it gets worse or/and unbearable. but anyway i was prescribed a type of medicine that could lessen the production of stomach acid so i’d feel lesser pain. a gastric med, if you will.

aaand, the psychiatrist i’ve seen told me i may have anxiety (generalized anxiety disorder) & the most recent visit, she also mentioned i may also have depression. which is not very surprising to me tbh.

the long story for the mental diagnosis :

so one day i felt too overwhelmed & started crying in the car (luckily i was parked) & just needed to get some serious help. i called the hospital & slotted an appointment for me -- ngl i couldn’t even speak properly because i have no idea what i wanted : a therapy? a psycho...something? i didn’t know what kind of doctor i should look for but yeah we got through that -- and i braced myself for my very first encounter with a psychiatrist.

the first session was basically digging through my history & my physical conditions, and any possible changes that triggered the onset for the things i felt at the time. lo & behold i was immediately prescribed an antidepressant & i took it & went to my next appointments as best i could.

then some time in June i think -- i couldn’t go to my scheduled appointment (i had to be in self-quarantine because a close contact was covid-positive at that time) & i was like “okay then we’ll reschedule it once my quarantine is over.” but oh boy oh boy OH BOY. the time between that missed appointment & the rescheduled one, i can’t remember how long it was -- 2 weeks i think? -- things started to go off-track. when i think back to it, i could really feel the lows going way lower than i was used to the months before. could be it’s from the lack of meds assisting my brainworks, since i didn’t get any more meds since it ran out (was supposed to continue getting prescribed with it during that missed appointment but i didn’t get any obvs). all i could remember now was, during that 2-week-period, i was pretending everything’s okay when internally everything came crashing down, emotions ran wild, thoughts never shutting up.

so when i managed to go meet the psychiatrist on the rescheduled date, i literally cried. i couldn’t hold anything back; i spoke some sentences & i don’t think i managed to finish any stuff i talked about. of course i hated myself even more because what in the ever-loving fvck am i doing, crying in front of a person i barely know? the more i tried to stop crying, the more i cried.

the psychiatrist then prescribed an additional meds to the one i was already taking, i think because i was so...uncharacteristically miserable...at that session. maybe, i don’t know.

the session afterwards (2 weeks after that disastrous one) went better. i could think clearer, and had this sort of resolve i think? to get away from the stressing work conditions i was in all this while. the psychiatrist said i also may have burn out (surprise?) because i was like “yeah whatever” towards work now lol.

but anyway. yeah i’m on 2 kinds of mental meds now, on top of 1 physical meds. i may have to take them for the rest of my life but you know. i don’t really mind. if it helps me to function properly, i’m okay to it. at least for now.

work is still a pain btw -- but last week i took it upon myself to meet the department head & tell him how my anxiety was becoming worse compared to the last time we had a meeting (in the last post). i don’t know if it’s because how bad i looked/appeared to him (i could feel myself being on the edge of crying again tbh; my voice shook a lot), or if i sounded desperate, or simply maybe he didn’t have the patience to listen to my whole story (the whole meeting took like 5 minutes only) -- but he straight up said to me “would you want to try another thing?” and i immediately said “yes” because that’s what i’ve been wanting. i told him where my interest is in -- it’s gonna be out of his department -- and he assured me that he would try & see if he can arrange things to make this happen. so that’s that.

the change that i needed -- i’ve told about my interest in another field to my direct supervisor like last year during my annual performance review, and i’ve also asked my supervisor’s boss for other opportunities i can do, because i couldn’t keep doing what i’ve been doing these past year. i felt trapped. but i couldn’t see their plans for me, hence why i brought it to the head of department, partly also because he’s experienced a similar thing (anxiety), so i figured he understands it better.

so we’ll see what happens in the coming weeks.

#life

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luci-in-trenchcoats · 7 years ago

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Dean’s Doc

Summary: Reader has a new patient Dean who comes in handy when she least expects it...

Pairing: Dean x Therapist!reader

Word Count: 1,800ish

Warnings: language

A/N: Quote for this one was, “It’s a horror show up here,”…

“Good afternoon Mr. Winchester,” you said, walking into your last appointment of the day. He was a new patient and you always made sure to give them the last slot so they took as much time as they needed. “I’m Dr. Y/L/N but you can call me Y/N.”

“Dean,” he said, standing from his seat on the couch and shaking your hand. You took a seat in your comfy chair opposite him and gave him a friendly smile.

“So Dean, I have to ask, is that ‘67 out front yours?” you asked. He perked up and nodded. “She’s gorgeous.”

“She’s my Baby,” said Dean. “You like cars?”

“Always wanted a Charger myself but I appreciate a nice car when I see one,” you said. Dean opened his mouth but stopped.

“We aren’t going to talk about cars for the next hour, are we,” said Dean. You shrugged.

“Well I sure as Hell ain’t going to ask you to tell me what you see in an ink blot. If you want to talk about cars, we’ll talk about cars,” you said. Dean raised an eyebrow and leaned back. “It’s your hour dude.”

“I thought you were some highly recommended therapist, going to make me talk through my childhood traumas or some crap,” said Dean.

“If you were sent my way then we both know someone tried that already and it didn’t work. I’m your last resort,” you said.

“Wow doc, way to make me feel better,” he said, crossing his arms.

“I will make you feel better again. Ask my ex patients. Not a single one has fallen back into their old ways. Want to know why? I don’t treat my patients like patients. I’ll be your friend. If shooting the shit about muscles cars is what gets us there, we’ll do it,” you said, crossing your arms in response. Dean unfolded his and leaned forward.

“How does that help?” he asked, shaking his head.

“I keep on us a path. The one thing I won’t do, the one thing I’m never going to do Dean, is write you a prescription for those damn sleeping pills you want in the first place,” you said. He went rigid, like he was ashamed of it.

“I had nightmares,” he said coldly. “I was exhausted all the time.”

“I know. You’re still exhausted I can tell,” you said, taking in the bags under his eyes. “Doesn’t nightmares not happening in the first place sound a lot better?”

“Yeah,” he said, not having come up with a solid argument.

“I’ll get you there but you’re gonna have to trust me which is where the friendship thing comes into play,” you said. Dean sighed. “Why don’t you tell me how you got your Baby?”

“I guess I can tell that story.”

It was late by the time you got home from work. Dean...you loved listening to him speak. It was dangerous and sweet all at once. Not professional in the slightest to think that but you were known for skirting that line more than once. Some ex patients had remained actual friends. You weren’t expecting that from him but hoped Dean would come back for his next appointment the next day at the very least.

You woke up around 4am, rolling over in bed. A loud crash downstairs made you bolt upright. You froze up as someone made noise in your house, the house you lived alone in. You heard footsteps get louder and you decided to grab your phone and lock yourself in the bathroom. By the time the police got there the person was long gone, even though they took nothing which freaked you out further.

“Morning Y/N,” said your assistant at the front desk of your small office when you got in. “You doing okay?”

“Yeah Angie, just...yeah,” you said, catching the time on the wall. “Shit.”

“Dean’s already inside, only been a few minutes,” she said. “Do you want me to reschedule him for later today?”

“No, hard enough to get the newbies to come back in the first place,” you said.

“Well, try to look less traumatized then,” said Angie with a smirk.

“Oh shut up,” you said. “Catty.”

“Freak,” she said as you walked towards your office. “Let me know if you need anything babe.”

“Thank you Angie,” you said, waving her off as you stepped through your door. “Good Morning Dean.”

“Doc,” he said as you took off your coat and put your bag behind your desk. “Rough night?”

“Alright, do I look like shit or something?” you teased. “You’re not the first to say that today.”

“You look tired is all. Kind of scared too,” he said. Fuck, you were supposed to be the therapist, not him.

“I had a break in last night. No big deal,” you said, grabbing your notebook and sitting in your chair. Dean raised an eyebrow and you knew this was what he wanted to talk about today. Awesome.

“Boyfriend chase him off?” asked Dean and you laughed.

“No. Single as they come. I hid in the bathroom and called the...you know what Dean, I don’t really want to talk about it. What did you have in mind for today?” you asked. Dean smiled.

“Now you know how it feels to not want to talk about your problems,” said Dean.

“I guess I do. So...” you said. “What’s up, Dean?”

“I wouldn’t worry about it,” said Dean. “They probably heard you and took off.”

“Dean, I appreciate it but you’re a man. A tall, and from the looks of it, strong man. I have a different way of thinking about these things than you,” you said, hoping he’d drop it. He nodded, sensing your agitation.

“So is there any good places to eat in this town?” he asked. Now that you could answer just fine.

“Ugh,” you said, following after the can of sauce that was rolling away from you in the supermarket. All you wanted was to go home, eat some pasta and curl up on the couch.

“I got it,” said a voice you recognized, bending down and grabbing the can, eyes widening when he saw you. “Hey doc.”

“Hi Dean,” you said, taking the can from him. “Thanks.”

“I love spaghetti,” he said, eyeing your cart.

“Want to come over for dinner?” you said before you knew what hit you. “I mean, I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to say that.”

“Oh, uh, that’s okay. I was just going to heat up something in the microwave anyways,” said Dean. Little manipulator making you want to invite him back over again.

“You could make spaghetti yourself ya know,” you said.

“Bet it wouldn’t taste as good as yours,” said Dean. You sighed and cocked your head.

“Alright. Give me your phone,” you said. He handed it over and you were shaking your head to yourself. “Be at this address in an hour and a half.”

“You got it doc,” he said, smiling to himself as he headed off towards a different aisle.

“Why the Hell did you invite him over you idiot,” you muttered to yourself as you tried to finish up your shopping before dinner.

“Hi Y/N,” said Dean when you answered your front door. “Cute sweats.”

“I’m tired, it’s my house and this isn’t a date so why the Hell not,” you said waving him in, breathing in deeply when he went past with the package under his arm. “Mm, what’s that?”

“Garlic bread,” he said. “I didn’t want to be a freeloader.”

“Nice. Some carb on carb action tonight,” you said, waving him over to your kitchen.

“You’ve got to be the weirdest therapist I’ve ever met,” he said, lingering at your island as you drained the water out.

“Sh, don’t let out the secret that therapists are people too,” you said with a giggle.

“Your secret’s safe with me. Thanks for dinner,” he said, moving around to help you divvy some up into a few bowls.

“Sorry for bombarding you in the store. I don’t normally invite patients over, not while I’m treating them,” you said.

“It’s okay. You’re still a little edgy from what I can tell. Figured some company might do you some good,” said Dean. You didn’t respond as you set the table and settled down, eating a for a little while before Dean was looking around.

“Thanks,” you said. “For the company.”

“I could use some too if I’m being honest,” said Dean. “Your house is nice.”

“You divert a lot when you say something you take as weakness,” you said, catching his face. “Sorry, this isn’t a session.”

“It’s a horror show up here. Diverting is kind of my thing,” said Dean with a quiet laugh. You’d guessed as much that he had problems but most didn’t refer to their own head-spaces in that way.

“Garlic bread is good,” you said. Dean was glad for the change of subject and soon you were just talking. Talking that led to watching a movie on your couch. Watching a movie on your couch that led to you falling asleep with your head against him.

You woke up to another loud noise, Dean’s flannel flapping in front of you as he spun off the couch. You popped up just in time to see Dean’s fist flying forward at a man. He tossed Dean to the side and your first thought was that wasn’t possible. It was as if Dean were a rag doll to this stranger.

“Oh shit,” you said when you saw him coming for you. You caught sight of the too long teeth and nails and immediately thought you were crazy.

“Get down!” you heard Dean shout at you and you hit the deck. A shot rang out and you heard one of them slump to the ground. Hesitantly you peaked your head up, Dean already moving over to help you to your feet.

“W-What-”

“Werewolf, doc,” said Dean, pulling you over to the stairs and away from the body.

“Wait, that’s Wes, one of my patients,” you said. “He started two weeks ago.”

“Yeah well, Wes liked you and decided he wanted you to be in his pack. Speaking of which, you better grab some clothes. We got to get out of here before they figure out what happened,” said Dean, pushing you up the stairs.

“This is insane. This can’t be real,” you said. Dean smiled a little sadly.

“I wasn’t kidding that it’s a horror show up there, Y/N. Monsters are real. I kill them, plain and simple,” said Dean.

“No, no this is-”

“Y/N. Take a deep breath or whatever therapy crap tricks you know but you got to hurry and come with me now. I’ll explain as best I can but let’s get somewhere safe first,” said Dean.

“You weren’t ever a patient, were you,” you said.

“No way in Hell would I ever go to a shrink, no offense,” said Dean. “You coming with me or not?”

“My life is fucked, isn’t it?” you asked.

“Until we solve this, pretty much.”

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