#healthcare sucks ass for mental health | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

most-annoying-sponsorship · 8 months

Text

Any submitted propaganda under the cut

BetterHelp - 44

the ads are unilaterally either cheesy 'everyone needs help sometimes pardner' stuff or a therapist who works for betterhelp saying how good betterhelp is. notably was an uptick in ads AFTER it was revealed how bad betterhelp is for actual mental health and how it doesnt vet its therapists lol

It’s overpriced, they underpay their workers, they have fake 5-star reviews and they sell your info. So many big YouTubers still promote Betterhelp to this day when most this info came out in 2018-ish. Fuck Betterhelp, all my homies hate Betterhelp

I guess it’s more of a podcast sponsor in my experience but OH MY GOD it’s such a bad business, but more importantly for this poll I just hate hearing youtubers/podcasters put on a serious voice to talk about Mental Health and how they themselves have struggled with Burnout and blah blah it literally all sounds the same. It’s like a psa in the middle of your video.

not only is it annoying bc it’s everywhere but it also sucks ass & exploits people

not only annoying, but a harmful service as well!!

It's being sued or smth rn (class action I think?). The program has been sketchy af and exploiting people who are experiencing mental illness or trauma, falsely claiming they have a full scale psychiatric team when they don't, selling data, etc. All for profit. Every other sponsorship is annoying, sure. But I instantly lose a little bit of respect when I hear a YouTuber talk about the importance of mental healthcare and then point you to BetterHelp.

The motherfuckers at Betterhelp call it ""'therapy""" but it sells your data. Youtubers I like promote this bastard of a conpany without a care in the world. I don't know why it is legal, I don't know how they get away with it, and I'm going to rip Betterhelp molecule by molecule

Its a scam trying to get your data and they dont even follow HIPPA laws or vet their therapists and they've had so many scandals that I'm shocked they still get sponsors unironically

Doesn’t even work like they’ve had a ton of controversy and the Youtuber is always like “lemme get real with you guys for a second… ok… phew… I go to therapy” and it’s like OKAY WELL YOU SHOULD GIVE A SHIT THAT THE COMPANY SUCKS THEN 💀

Takes advantage of people needing access to mental health care, when in reality BetterHelp is a terrible company that treats therapists AND clients like shit. The FTC recently gave them a huge fine for selling client health data to for-profit advertising corporations like Facebook but they still deny wrongdoing and haven't stopped the shill campaign. At least when a meal kit service or w/e is poor-quality usually all it means is you wasted your money, but if you trust the wrong therapy service there is a lot more that can go horribly wrong. (Cerebral is even worse since it was essentially all the problems of BetterHelp mixed with handing out addictive controlled substances like candy, but I haven't seen it on Youtube as much)

This is the only sponsorship that has actively made me unsubscribe from anyone that advertises it. While others like raycon or squarespace are usually annoying. Betterhelp is actively harmful to both their patients and their therapists, sells personal health data of their users to ad companies and it isn't even cheaper than real therapy at this point like they claim to be. It makes me see red when I see another youtuber saying how "good" it is and how it helped them (which it honestly looks like a script at this point) and telling their usually young audience to sign in. And then they dare to ignore the thousands of comments telling them about how bad betterhelp actually is. Like, I thought we all knew about their shady practices. It has been common knowlege since 2018, why are you acting surprised when you get called out. But I guess they pay really well so I hope those 1000$ were worth it I guess. Sorry for the ramble.

I've never tried it so I can't know for sure, but by all accounts the app is shit, yet everyone talks about it as though it's the best thing ever

There are sooo many controversies with BetterHelp and youtubers stopped accepting (not medically trained professionals, highly unethical and unprofessional and rude etc) sponsorships with them until recently like they all just forgot how shitty it was and it makes me dislike the youtuber every time i see they accept one

A shitty company taking advantage of those struggling with mental health (overcharging, horrible therapists, sharing data with third parties etc.) and yet everyone is sponsored by them

It harms both the therapists and the patients using it and is particularly evil to do that during the current times

Fake therapy and unqualified folks

they literally prey on mentally ill people for their money. their therapists seem extremely unqualified. i have heard so many horror stories including therapists telling (non-religious) clients to pray their problems away, talking about their own problems to the client for the entire session, and sitting on the toilet mid appointment. i genuinely don't understand how otherwise respectable creators can take their sponsorships in good faith because i have ONLY HEARD BAD THINGS

Shit company that abuses their “patients” and takes their money, and youtubers REFUSE to listen to their audiences on this

Not only is it incredibly fucking common and annoying, but it preys on and is advertised to people with mental illness. It apparently isn't very helpful for this (it seems like therapists don't even have to be licensed) but still presents itself as therapy. People have also said it sells your data and isn't confidential at all

It's everywhere and I heard it's actually a little harmful sometimes.

THEY STEAL YOUR INFO??? YOUR DEPRESSION IS LITERALLY BEING MONETIZED FUCK THESE GUYS JUST DO A NORMAL SCAM LIKE ESTABLISHED TITLES INSTEAD OF TAKING ADVANTAGE OF SUICIDAL PEOPLE

It's a legitimately harmful product and it is /everywhere/

It's basically a scam and can cause actual harm!

Evil fucking service, straight up dangerous

Its not even real therapists

IT DOES NOT VET ITS THERAPISTS. I CANNOT EMPHASIZE THIS ENOUGH, BETTERHELP DOES NOT VET ITS THERAPISTS. It also doesn't pay nearly enough.

it's a scam that preys on people trying to get help with their health

Literally sold user data from THERAPY SESSIONS

somehow it doesn't matter how many times there's articles about how better help abuses patients personal data, uses counselors who aren't licensed therapists, does conversion therapy on ppl who ask for lgbt sensitive counseling....ppl STILL take the money and i hate it

It's a scam and people (even some professional therapists have promoted it). "Despite its credible presentation, BetterHelp was caught selling data to Facebook, Snapchat, Criteo, and Pinterest. The company recently settled for $7.8 million. The FTC confirmed that BetterHelp pushed people into handing over health informatio" quote is from this article which sums up the problem pretty well: https://www.themarysue.com/betterhelp-controversy-explained

It turns out they sell user data for advertising purposes which GOES AGAINST WHAT THERAPIST GROUPS ARE SUPPOSED TO DO!!!

always feels really dystopian to get advertisement for scammy corporate mental health services... like what a sign of failure for society if ppl have to rely on such expensive and potentially unprofessional ways of getting the help they need. get that thang away from mee

therapy site with bad therapists on it

It's actually bad morally speaking

AWFUL SERVICE !!! every youtuber who still takes this sponsorship is cringe to me

Jim Beam "People Are Good For You" Ad - 1

I hate this ad. 1st of all, as an autistic person, being in a loud crowded bar would be a sensory nightmare for me. Also I don't like the taste of alcohol. So borboun is probably gross anyways. 2nd, I wouldn't want to go a bar because I would concerned about getting sick. That's because it's flu and cold season where I live, and Covid-19 is around. Lastly, I've seen this ad enough times now that it's annoying. So no Jim Bean, I will not be going a bar or buying your bourban (or anyone else's) anytime soon.

#polls #sponsorship smackdown #round 1

6 notes · View notes

ettadunham · 1 year

Note

hi! just yesterday i finally received the confirmation that i got my very first Real Full-Time Job (have been working and doing internships since i was a teen tho), so if you got any advice to survive in the capitalist hell, especially in the beginning, i'm all ears 😭

Anon, I now feel intense pressure to not lead you astray (is this what an older sibling might feel? I'm new to the experience 😂), so I'll start with a disclaimer, like any good little capitalist organization trying to deflect blame: none of what I'm saying might apply to your situation or be helpful in any way.

To be more specific, my advice should not be considered much at all if you're working at a state-funded job instead of a private one, and only maybe partially if you're working at a small business or the service industry. I've only ever been working at corporate jobs because I live alone with my cat and I need to pay rent somehow, so that's all I can speak for.

Okay? Okay. Let us proceed.

You can always just leave.

This truly is the number one rule in a neoliberal hypercapitalistic system. You are already regarded as a resource rather than a human being, so anyone telling you that you should have "company loyalty" or anything the like can shove it up their ass.

Of course, you do still need to consider your own situation. Even if you have enough support to get by for a few months, 9 out of 10 times I'd still advise actually getting a new job offer before handing in a resignation, because then you have more leverage and can be more picky about your new job.

However, I also did the thing that you're not supposed to do when I resigned from my first job personally, and I never really regretted it. It did force me to eventually apply for the same type of job that I didn't initially want to do, but it was a much nicer company and an enormous improvement on not just my mental but physical health (I was literally diagnosed with high blood pressure while working at my first job), so... yeah. If it sucks, hit da bricks, as long as there's a support system behind you.

2. Actually... you should consider quitting every 3 years.

In the corporate landscape, it's actually beneficial to switch jobs from time to time, because they will not raise your pay as much as its value goes up in the job market. This is a fact everyone is aware of, as well as how it actually costs more to hire and train new people every 2 years instead of just keeping the old ones, but alas, it's how shareholder capitalism works. All that matters is the next quarterly report.

That being said, not all of us like change, in fact, most people would prefer to have a stable job where they can just go, have a coffee with their old colleagues at the water cooler, do their shift and go home. Corporate propaganda will have you believe that workers just simply prefer to bounce from one place to another, but in reality, it's more of a necessity that comes from stagnating wages, changing expectations, and a general uncertainty about job security.

So... yeah, it's a bit more depressing when I put it that way, isn't it? But the point stands, especially if you feel like your job might not be secure, it's worth looking around. Maybe even look into adjacent positions where you can develop other skills if you really want to be the bestest boy (gender neutral) at capitalism.

You can of course also just move within the company you're working at if they have the flexibility. They love hiring from inside because then they can underpay you compared to new hires while keeping your knowledge in-house. But, I mean... you get new skills and don't have to change much about your environment? It's all about the symbiosis between worker and corporation where you're always the one getting leeched from anyway. <3

3. Drain them for all their worth.

Chances are, your corporate overlord might have some benefits for you. Make sure to look into it and use all of it. I know that for Americans healthcare is a big issue, so definitely look into what your corporate package offers on that, but also see if there's anything else. Can you go on business trips so you can travel more? Do they offer 20% off on gas? Reimburse you on certain purchases? Can you use your company's money to learn some programming to help you apply to your next job?

Have no shame about coming back with receipts every two weeks. If it's part of the package, it's part of the package. It's already in the company's budget anyway, they do not care.

4. Get along with people.

This is both more important and more complicated than it might look at first blush. Or maybe you're already seeing all the potential problems with this point.

Your workplace is much like high school where you're locked in and forced to interact with a bunch of strangers that you otherwise wouldn't choose to talk to. And you gotta do it every. single. day. Even just thinking about it exhausts my smol undiagnosed authistic heart.

But! I would venture to say that trying to get to know and get along with all those people is the most important thing you can do at your job. Sometimes even more so than actually doing your job, lol. Obviously, the most important part is your own team, but if you're at an office, talk to people at the coffee machine. Ask them about what they do, have small talks, etc. Make the effort to socialize a bit. Go to events if they're during work hours, and use your judgement if it's after work hours. Don't let yourself get sucked in into the whole 'we're a family' company culture and let it take over your life, but if it's something you'd enjoy (e.g.: we have a monthly board game club where I work currently), then it's a good way to build solidarity. And... *sigh* connections.

I did say it's like high school, didn't I? It's all about who you know baybey.

That being said... It's all easier said than done if you don't fit into the status quo and stick out in any way shape or form. Shocker, I know.

People also just have differing views, and you need to learn to deal with that somehow. Sometimes it turns out that whatever seemed like an end-of-the-world division on the internet is not all that important of a difference in reality. And sometimes it's much worse.

The thing you need to keep in mind here is that corporate culture generally loathes disruption, so you're not likely to encounter people saying slurs. Well, you're also not supposed to punch people for saying slurs though. It's all about the delicate balance of whatever is acceptable in polite society, and as long as that line's not crossed, you can either bite your tongue and sell a bit of your soul to the neoliberal gods for your survival, or push back mildly. You know. In a "polite" way uwu.

In any case, if you feel like the environment is too hostile, see point 1. Hit da bricks. Some workplaces are infected by assholery and mismanagement. Use your judgement, etc. If you're like me, living in a protofascist nation right now, you might just resign to the fact that more things are acceptable in polite society than you'd like, and you need to pay your bills instead of arguing with a middle manager about immigrants.

Okay, are we depressed enough about general corporate culture already? Cool. Let's see some actual useful tips then.

5. Talk to the people on your team and be a united front.

Does your company have a union? Then you should join that first thing, but as I've never really had that, I can't tell you much about that experience. What I do know, is that you should always form a united front with your immediate co-workers.

For instance, do you and your team members do the same thing? Then ask them about how much time they take to finish a task. If they say they take a day for something that in reality takes about 4 hours, then do the same. Don't be the asshole telling your boss that you finished it in 3 hours. And most importantly, never snitch on your teammates.

(Speaking of that example, you should also just overestimate how much time something would take. That's just good practice anyway. <3)

But yeah, the bottom line is that your teammates are your first line of defense against any kind of higher up shenanigans. Help each other out, discuss wages, stand your ground together. If you can build solidarity outside of your team, that's even better, but your teammates are the ones who can immediately step up for you if needed.

Obviously, realistically you can only give back as much as you receive. If your team doesn't feel the solidarity juice quite as much as you do, there's not much you can do about it other than give an opening and then adapt. At the end of the day, corporate culture incentivices individual achievement over collectivism despite all their empty slogans like "team work" or whatever.

Speaking of which...

6. Advocate for yourself.

So I am going to go completely against my previous point by saying that you need to speak up and advocate for yourself individually. If you want a raise, then call up your team lead, and tell them that you want a raise. Bring them the facts about your work, your achievements, if you have some of those juicy KPI numbers and they make you look good, then read them up, talk about how long you've been at the company, about inflation, the company's self-proclaimed growth... Give them an expectation even, and be prepared to talk in detail about how you are in fact the most bestest at your work actually, and politely imply that you might need to look elsewhere otherwise.

That being said... It's also just good practice to talk about your team's achievements as well. Last time I did this, I actually managed to get all of my team a small raise, even without trying all that much for a collective bargaining. In a healthy team environment, you should be able to talk up each of your team members in one way or another. You might be told that there's a limited amount of money going around for these raises, but it's not like you were ever gonna get more of it. Corporations will pay you as little as possible at every step of the way.

See point 1 and 2 again.

So, yeah. Make sure to advocate for yourself, especially if you've been at the company for a while (the time period here might vary, but bringing it up after a year is a good start if there's been no raises), or heard that you were getting less than your coworkers. Be your own hype man, while not talking down the rest of your team. Otherwise they might "forget" to pay you any of your deserved compensation.

This also goes in other aspects as well. If you're at a chill workplace, you can always bring it up to your boss if you hate your current work, and want to do something else. Employers are usually more accomodating for these types of complaints, and might even help you find other tasks or even a different position in the company, depending on the opportunities. (They might just try to give you more work at first though, lol, so be specific.) And if they're not chill... well, there's not much to lose, because you should already be thinking about point 1 again.

7. Work less, bullshit more.

This is it! This is the point that we are here for.

How to do as little work as humanly possible without getting at the top of the firing list. The true mysteries of the universe. We'll be combining some of what we learned in the previous points for this.

First things first, no, you should never bring your 100% for a bullshit corporate job. You might think that they'll appreciate it and you for it, but the truth is, whatever bonus or raise you might be getting is not gonna be all that much. And it's not going to worth all the effort you put into it.

Remember, corporations will always pay you as little as possible and toss you away at the first sign of inconvenience.

No, all that work is going to do to you is burn you out, and infringe upon your family or social life. If you're doing grunt work especially, then make sure to keep your boundaries. Keep a table about your work hours, even if it's not kept by your workplace, and make sure to keep it always at 8 or whatever your required hours are. Don't answer your email or phone outside of that window.

Even when it comes to your work hours, make sure to take breaks, take your time with your lunch. It's actually kinda unhealthy to work for 8 hours straight anyway, your brain is gonna be a mush by the end.

And also, as we talked about it, make sure to coordinate with your co-workers if they're doing the same or similar jobs. Find the optimal way to do your tasks in a way that's going to stay consistent with the expectations.

If you have a kind of job, where you have set goals, try to reach those, and if you have a bit of downtime, use it. You can ask for new tasks eventually, but don't rush it, if you have the opportunity, take a breather.

There are workplaces that might try to monitor your work, especially in home office, but as long as things are done, most workplaces do not care how much you napped during your work hours. However, if you're worried about seeming inactive on your laptop for instance, there are workarounds on that too. I have a powershell script that presses the capslock button every minute for 2 hours (for legal reasons, this is only for those times when I'm running a python script through a VPN connection, which standby mode would kill otherwise 😂), but I've had a friend who just opened word and put something on her space button. The human ingenuity when it comes to avoiding work is boundless.

The only consideration here is that you should still try to check your chat from time to time, but that can also depend on your workplace. Most people don't care if you reply them 2 hours late, no one's available 24/7.

That all being said, you might still want to secure your job a bit more other than doing the bare minimum, but the good news is, having all that downtime actually means that you can think about other things too if you choose! Maybe even ways to improve your job as it is. Or maybe just talk with someone at the water cooler. Never underestimate the power of talking to people at the water cooler tbh.

Also consider this: if you're doing your job too well, your reward most likely is going to be.... more work! And it's gonna be unpaid work at that. I know, because I somehow never managed to avoid this one, despite doing my best and napping as much as possible.

In conclusion, Bullshit Jobs™ deserve Bullshit Work. <3

#is this helpful anon? i'm not sure it's helpful lmao #at least it's long i guess #capitalism is hell #messages #anon

8 notes · View notes

fairiepunk · 9 months

Text

Can I just vent real quick? About yet another shitty experience I’ve had with mental healthcare in the U.S.?

Vent below the cut. Tw: medication, anxiety

So I started what is more or less my dream job a few weeks ago (yay!), but I’ve found over the past few weeks that this job is triggering as hell for me (fuck!).

My anxiety has been through the roof for these past few weeks, and over the past week, I’ve had severe panic attacks that are nearly impossible to get myself out of regardless of what coping skill I use.

Knowing it would take at least a week to see my regular psych med provider to see about making adjustments, I went into the local behavioral health urgent care (which I’m sure is SUCH a great resource for so many people! I don’t want to shit on it, because I’m sure others have had good experiences, I just did not.)

It is worth noting at this point that the urgent care is a part of the facility I go to for psychiatry regularly, and I was reassured multiple times that they had access to my chart which includes my med allergies.

On my med allergy list is buspar, which is noted as giving me psychotic symptoms. Also on my med allergy list is a note about seroquel potentially causing psychotic symptoms (I took it at the same time as another new med, so we weren’t sure which med caused the psychotic symptoms.)

So imagine my surprise when I was offered buspar. I responded with “I can’t take buspar, it causes me to hallucinate. That should be on my allergy list.” To which, the provider scoffed and said “Well, we don’t do benzos here.”

I have no desire to take benzodiazepines. I am terrified of taking them due to my parents being addicted to them at various points in their lives. This is not to med shame anyone who does take them. I know they can save people’s lives, but just know that I was not seeking them out by any means.

She suggested increasing my propranolol, and then decided against it since my blood pressure was “already on the low end” (she put the cuff on my fucking elbow).

At the end of the appointment, she decided to send over a script for seroquel, and they made me an appointment to meet with my regular psych med provider next week. While I’m reluctant to try this med again, I am willing to because this anxiety is *unbearable* and this is my only option for now.

So I get home, and call the pharmacy to see how much my med will cost. The med provider never sent over the script, and when I called the urgent care to say “hey, I think the system might have glitched. Could you send the script over again?” The receptionist said “Oh sometimes pharmacists just say that they didn’t receive the script. Just keep asking them about it. We’ll double check on our end though.”

The pharmacy did not receive the script before they closed today. I hope they get it early tomorrow. This sucks ass. I am suffering.

#fable speaks #mental health #anxiety #vent #mental illness vent #anxiety vent #medication

2 notes · View notes

barrenwomb · 1 year

Note

hi there! Sorry if bother but how did you decide to study nursing? I've finished high school last year and decided to take a gap year ( mostly due to mental health reasons + trying to make enough money working here and there to support myself in the future + just general indecisiveness lmao) and I'm still stuck thinking about what i wanna study in the future, bc i DO wanna keep studying and go to uni, but my decision is still up in the air. Did u already knew what you were going to study after high school? What made you chose to become a nurse? Anyway i hope you're having a good evening <3

hi<3 um, well,

^^^

ok, on a more serious note. i started uni (law school) immediately after graduating high school and i dropped out a year later because. well, because i was severely mentally ill, to be honest. then for another year i worked the shittiest jobs known to men until i decided to try the entrance test for nursing school just because and i somehow made it in. i wasn’t sure about my choice until i started working shxjnsbsjs ok, so like, why nursing? mostly because i spent my teenage years taking care of my mom when she got severely ill so i was already familiar with lots of medical and nursing stuff (IV nutrition, PICC catheters, pressure sores, NG tube, etc). also because im the most unimpressionable person ever, scarily phlegmatic even, and i’m very good with people! AND also because i needed to find a job asap — which i did btw. i got hired a week later after my graduation. it’s not an easy job and it’s definitely not for everyone. it requires great mental and physical strength, but considering i always saw myself as a weak ass pussy and now im really good at my job i encourage you to try if you feel like it’d work for you. you don’t know how actually resilient and strong you are until you become a healthcare worker. being a nurse kind of sucks, objectively, because people tend to understimate you and your job a lot, and also because there are serious issues with our healthcare system (talking specifically about italy but these issues are common all over the world tbh), like chronic staff shortage and work overload. personally i like what i do. it gives me a sense of purpose + i could never do a desk job because i need to move around and use both my brain AND my hands. it’s stressful, though. very. extremely mentally proving. i’m glad i made this choice, though. i can’t imagine myself doing anything else now. it’s not my dream job but it’s the job for me. i like having my hands covered in blood and other body humors — don’t tell my patients! just kidding. i won’t be one of those annoying mfs who are like waaah never become a nurse it’s a literal hell waaah. maybe they’re right but we NEED more nurses. oh god if we do. we also need to unionize and start a revolution btw. i wish you the best of luck! keep me updated! kisses mwah mwah! if i made it everyone can!

#anon #ask

5 notes · View notes

the-crisscrossed-system · 3 months

Text

I love being physically I’ll on top of mentally I’ll. Our EDS is kicking my ass. I feel like I can’t do more than one thing in a day and even that’s pushing it at points. I’ve been wanting to load and run the dishwasher for like three days and just couldn’t. Finally ran it yesterday but since it’s a mini countertop one and a bunch of dishes piled up it has to be unloaded and ran again. Everything hurts. I wanted to shower yesterday but that’s now a today problem. I can’t sleep because I’m in too much pain. This all fucking sucks and on top of it my mental health is in the shitter. I’m living in a cycle of wake up from nightmares, level out for the day, and then by nightfall I’m roughing it again, which makes the one two combo impossible to get things done. And I’m STILL on the job hunt. Which is scary the more I think about finding a job where I have to consistently leave the house and I was barely able to walk around a grocery store the other day. But we’re really starting to fall into scary territory of I NEED to find a job that’ll cover our bills so we can move back to our hometown before my partner’s visa is up. Oddly enough I’m excited to move back to the states but that does scare me a bit with all the political issues and their stellar healthcare. Every part of this is just so stressful and being in constant pain isn’t helping!

#vent #vent post #Ali talks

0 notes

karate-lips · 8 months

Text

I've found myself thinking of the diary I briefly kept in 2020, which I stopped and then got rid of altogether because it was damaging my mental health. I don't miss living the excruciating day-by-day, but I wonder what details I've already forgotten.

I've also been thinking about the COVID antibody clinical trial I worked. It was a big psychological strain. I was swabbing prospective patients, spending hours shut into a room with them to minimize aerosol spread, sweating through my PPE and worrying about the possibility of infecting my partner who, at the time, was unvaccinated because you could only get the vaccine if you worked in healthcare. The trial sponsor was a nightmare to work with, but we were one of the top enrolling sites in the country because I put in the work. Omicron also sucked ass. Thankfully I wasn't on any further COVID trials at the time but I had such a bad feeling, I would sit outside in the freezing cold to inhale my poorly microwaved lunch rather than sit inside unmasked around everyone else after the holidays. I was right. Half the clinic staff were out sick for the next two weeks, I stayed masked until the spring. I felt angry all the time, and worried about all the sick people in my different trials. A few months before I left I was eating lunch outside and one of the staff approached me simply to remark that this was the first time they'd ever actually seen my face in all the time I'd worked there.

I really don't miss the job. There were things I liked about it, but I was not cut out for the medical field. I'm a goony misanthropic scientist at heart. I hated cold-calling people about their health problems. I hated chasing down doctors to get them to finish filling out the paperwork. I read the clinical research subreddit sometimes and wonder if the CRAs know what kind of clown car antics actually take place in the day-to-day. I don't think they'd have lasted a day doing what I used to do, and I barely survived two years of it. I do miss some of the people. I learned and grew and changed because of it. But I'm so glad I don't do it anymore.

0 notes

not-that-blog · 2 years

Text

Sometimes I think about the fact that if we had a functioning medical system, I would absolutely be in hospital right now and be getting inpatient treatment for my condition because realistically I'm not actually healthy enough to be doing this at home under current circumstances and I don't have the support networks that I actually need.

And I absolutely blame Scott 'it's not my job to hold a hose mate, but I will secretly take the job of multiple ministers and not tell anyone.' Morrison for a good portion of that. But it's also bigger than the failures of ghosts of parliament past.

Mental health care in the hospital system is completely neglected. Mental healthcare in the public system is hella neglected. I may be bordering psychosis from insomnia and starting to have panic attacks again because of ptsd triggers that are causing seizures and heart palpitations.... but like, there's no point going to the hospital for that.

And I do see my therapist Wednesday and I can go see my gp if I must... but I'm tired and I'm exhausted and a cranky mf because I've gotten such little sleep in the last three weeks. (Because it's not sleep I'm getting, it's passing out after seizures and that's not sleep, it's not restful. It feels more like my brain shutting down so I don't die, kinda like when your phone overheats so it turns itself off but loses 20% of battery anyway.)

And I'm going to be okay most likely, I've been dealing with psychosis for most of my life where I have hallucinations and feel like nothing is real and some other things I won't talk about on tumblr for my own safety bc the internet sucks sometimes.

But right now, I probably do need to be on more than anxiety meds. I probably need some stronger sleeping meds and some help eating because I'm unable to pull myself together enough to deal with food either which is probably a contributing factor in this.

And long covid sucks.

And physically, I'm so so beyond exhausted.

And mentally I'm very overwhelmed and worried about losing control of my mental health.

And emotionally I'm still struggling and actually very deep in grief over losing my grandfather and losing my progress from covid.

And I'm really really good at pretending I'm okay irl.

Like a lot of people think I'm doing fine.

But I'm not.

The fake half assed optimistic thing I do to be palatable to able bodied neurotypical people is so well rehearsed it's just accepted.

Like 'yeah, it sucks, but I know what I'm doing and I my options are do it or die so I'll do it because I have to, I have kids that need me.' is a fantastic speech that's very well rehearsed at this point...

But the actual version is: 'I don't actually know why I'm still fighting other than a lot of people expect me to continue to and spite. If I actually had a choice, I don't know what I would do but it'd be something completely different because I wouldn't be at constant threat of homelessness if I don't find something of monetary value about myself soon.'

I'm never going to be okay or enough and I know that.

And I'm heartbroken about it.

But I'm still here.

And until this stupid body gives up and kills me, I have to be here.

But I really wish we had a functional medical system so this breakdown, this death wish of mine, that isn't normal or healthy or sane or safe.... could be seen and treated by the professionals and that I could have a safe space to scream and cry and breakdown and breathe and heal every stupid piece of me finally.

#mine

0 notes

save-me · 3 years

Text

Psychiatrist cancelled my appointment 15 minutes before saying there was no available appointment AND to reschedule.. I’ve had this appointment for weeks.. 😩😭 I haven’t been able to get an appointment with someone in 10 MONTHS. Either the doctor sucks, or they cancel. Mental health in this county is such a joke.

I literally don’t know what I’m going to do with myself. 🥲

#hanging on by a thread #mental health in America blows #American healthcare sucks ass #in a bad way #it gets easier right?

0 notes

kimmytrash · 3 years

Text

Guess who instinctively quit their job tonight due to just being mentally done with shit

this bitch.

#Mun speaks #look being an RN sucks ass a lot of the time #and when your administration refuses to give you offdays or mental health days #LIKE THEY ARE REQUIRED BY LAW TO GIVE YOU #it gets too much #fuck the healthcare field at this point #I'm going back to waitressing

0 notes

katjohnadams · 3 years

Text

How would we even pay for a UBI (Universal Basic Income)?

Okay, see, that’s not a bad question, and stick with me: We increase tax of businesses, lower minimum wage, regulate the shit out of renting and lending, and institute Universal Healthcare.

How does that pay for UBI?

So UBI would be expensive. We’re talking $1500-2500 per adult per month. So where does that come from? Let’s work backwards: We nationalize most health care. We regulate the medical industry to fuck, as well. The cost of a sensible medical system is a fraction of the profit gorging monster that we have now which makes hundreds of dollars per dollar spent on some medications.

The amount of people who end up on permanent disability drops, and we can get rid of disability entirely since you have healthcare and an income, guaranteed already. A disability additional stipend is a Very Good Idea, though. Further, a lot of conditions that are easily treatable early and preventative medicine is less stigmatized and the total expenditure on healthcare drops. I personally have treated/transported far too many people who lost limbs due to a lack of insulin and that is just shameful.

Businesses pay MUCH higher taxes, but they also pay out less as a minimum wage. After all, if you’re working age, you’re getting a UBI. Pay stops being something people need, and it becomes something people want. Hey, free market people: If all needs are met, then labor will be paid at the value of the work. You want someone to do dirty work, you gotta pay to get it done, you now have to entice people who are able to survive without you. But you can afford to since you don’t need to offer as much! Sure, I could *get by* on my UBI, but If I want that new Console or rims or a nicer wardrobe or a better graphics card, I’mma need some extra scratch, and I’m gonna shop the free ass market for what will pay the best for the time and effort I want to put in. But since I got my UBI, it doesn’t need to be as much, does it?

And as a company, sure the extra tax sucks, but the lower pay means I can hire enough people to make sure I got that coverage and a call out, which people can afford to do, won’t affect me. My workers will be more relaxed and happy, and if they sass you you can fire them because you’ve got a sizable list of hires since paying them is easier.

With renting and lending regulated, people can afford to work more places, and your workers will probably have to commute less, giving you MORE RELIABLE WORKER PRESENCE. And the market will be less prone to sudden boom and bust cycles.

But isn’t that socialism?

I mean, one: Define that word before you use it but two: Kinda? It’s definitely a social policy that ensures general economic stability to all people and reduces the very expensive issue of houseless people by ensuring everyone can afford a home and has access to their medical and mental health needs and support networks. So... yes? But it’s not like your “variety” in consumer goods is going anywhere, why would it? Hell, if you’re worried about nationalization of business, break up the big companies. Regulate their size and enforce anti-trust regs with an iron fist. The government can’t usefully nationalize twenty million different companies, but a government in charge of Amazon? I think that is something both Leftists and Right Wingers can see as being a Bad Time.

So sure, it’s a little bit of Socialism, but so are fire departments. And I don’t think you’ll say firefighters aren’t heroes, the lot, serving their communities.

And hell, you already fund a massive amount of taxes into the biggest social service in the country: the defense budget. And most of that just acts as a funnel to the military industrial complex which more and more pumps money overseas instead of into American homes and businesses.

So what I’m saying is that a UBI is American as fuck and supports the working class of citizens, and the Republicans are framing it as a scary foreign ideal to scare you away.

859 notes · View notes

klirk-hammurton · 2 years

Text

I just need to get this off my chest....I've typed this on multiple occasions and deleted because this is so out of character for me. I am not a threat to myself or others, I'm just venting because I don't have much else to turn to. I've been holding this in for weeks.

⚠️⚠️CW: mentions of s*lf h*rm, prob*tion, mental health⚠️⚠️

I'm usually not one to post personal things like this, but I'm going to be real with everyone. I'm genuinely not doing that great mentally and emotionally.

The month of March kicked my fucking ass and life is still fucking me. Beginning of March, my grandmother (mawmaw) was emitted in the hospital for severe internal bleeding and thankfully recovered. About a week or so after that, my brother had a run in with the law. Violation probation, it's not looking too great for him. End of the month, my dad started to get fuzzy vision in his eye. What was a routine check-up turned into a diagnosis of type II diabetes (he's never shown any signs of turning diabetic in the past from blood work so it was a shock).

Beginning of this month, he needed a surgery to biopsy his temporal artery (temporal ligation). His primary thinks he could be developing temporal arteritis, which could be causing his vision to get blurry or it could be the diabetes affecting his vision. We won't have results until next week. If he has temporal arteritis, he can't take the medication he needs for it because of the diabetes.

Within the household I'm staying, I'm being treated as second rate. I bust my ass at work. I'm trying to do things with my life, but it doesn't seem to exist to anyone. I'm being disrespected so much, even if it is discretely. People are willing to bend over backwards for my brother that has been nothing but trouble, but the second I need something, I'm an inconvenience. My needs don't matter. My mental health doesn't matter. I in general do not seem to matter, and it's weighing me down.

This isn't the first time my brother has been busted. It's not the first time he's been locked up. I can't even begin to name the number of felony charges he has. He's going on 40 this year and gets everything handed to him. I'm struggling and nobody seems to care. I need help and nobody seems to care. The second my brother needs something???? Everyone is leaping to his every beckon call. He's been given everything in life, but me???? I don't seem to matter.

I'm hard on myself. I'm drained. I've had too many mental breakdowns to count. I can't vent in this house without basically being told to suck it up because my mawmaw "can't help" but will jump the second my brother needs something. My dad???? If he needs something, she blows a gasket. I feel like I'm drowning....I'm drowning in my own head and thoughts.

I'm starting to believe these intrusive thoughts that maybe I really don't matter. That maybe people could be better off without me. But I keep finding ways to avoid facing these thoughts. I've been trying so hard to stay strong. I put on this brave face every day so nobody worries. I bury myself in Fandoms to escape reality.

I used to self harm, but I forced myself to quit because it got to the point I wasn't feeling anything years ago. I probably have the occasional drink a little too often, but not enough to be an alcoholic. I've smoked a few cigarettes and they did nothing. I can't afford therapy so I find different coping mechanisms because the Healthcare system sucks ass. I hate feeling like this. I hate that I'm writing this, but this is my only escape.

I'm sorry if I'm being a drag.

I'm sorry if this worries you, but I am okay. I promise I won't hurt myself.

I'm sorry I've been hiding behind this mask for so long. I feel like I've cheated you. That I've lied to you. I feel like an imposter sometimes. I'm just so tired and filled with so many emotions.

I just needed to get this out. I haven't been feeling myself like I was in the beginning. I feel like I've let you all down. I'm sorry. I'm sorry. I'm sorry.

I love you all so much. I'm going to try to rest today. I'm running on maybe 2 and half hours of sleep and pulled an 8 hour grave shift. I'm exhausted.

#ramblings of the demon layer #ramblings of demommy dommey #i'm so tired #i'm so angry #i hate it so much #i hate being like this #I'm sorry for being like this #very personal #personal #mental health

12 notes · View notes

gale-gentlepenguin · 3 years

Note

I’m really really sorry to be disrespecting your wishes, but you just struck such a nerve I had to say something. I’m going to use America as an example. Slavery still exists in capitalism. In America they put people in jail for minor reasons and then because the jail is privately owned most of the time, they do everything in their power to keep them there. They then use these people to do free labour, a famous example being prisoners in California being forced to risk their lives and fight the wild fires. This short video explains it in basics if you’re interested (https://youtu.be/gX2R0b_mqrQ)

Slavery in America also didn’t “end” because capitalism let it. It stopped because in the civil war America needed more fighters (slaves volunteered when they knew it meant freedom) and a reason for England to stay out of the war, so they gave the fight a just cause. In fact the reason America was among the last to stop blatant slavery was because people didn’t want the economy failing from a sudden lack of free labour. Capitalism is what kept slavery around then, and still does now. Here’s a kinda long but interesting video summing up the American civil war (https://youtu.be/tsxmyL7TUJg)

Hate communism all you want, your reasons are 100% just. But please try not to spread misinformation. The reason Americans die everyday from easily preventable causes, is because they’ve been brainwashed to refuse anything even slightly to do with communism. People literally have to pay to hold their child after birth because they don’t have a socialised health care system. Here’s a short video on that if you’re interested (https://youtu.be/Kll-yYQwmuM)

(Also people really can’t move up and down the capitalism ladder without the connections you get from being at the top of it. People wouldn’t be homeless or working minimum wage jobs if they could just gain a better job through “hard work”)

Again I’m sorry to be sending you this on a platform where you want to chill, so don’t feel it necessary to respond, but I just couldn’t stay quiet.

I did say I didn't want to talk about this anymore. You clearly put thought into this ask and it isn't just another person raving about something. So I will make ONE exception. This is the last post I will talk about this.

So I am not upset with you sending me this. If anything I am glad you took sources and explained your reasoning. So I will comment on this with Equal respect and my view. I will be adding a read more because I don't want to force any opinions and views down people’s throats. I am completely fine with you disagreeing with me. I just want people to be rational and come to their own conclusions.

Lets take this point by point.

Before starting, I will agree that Capitalism as a concept didn't end slavery, I was saying the governments with that system did. Albeit not directly because it.

1.The For Profit prison system is messed up and it is filled with Corrupt and Bigotted individuals that exploit it. Sadly it isn't classified as Slavery, as the prisoners (while grossly underpaid and exploited) are technically paid and given room and board.) and unless they are on death row, can be released. This prison system is still better then Communist systems, which effectively work their prisoners (who are locked up unjustly by vast margins) to death, or worse. Which is the main point I was making when I made my post (though it was more of an emotional rant.) I will in this response be more calm and explain my rational. Communism always results in more death and is just as corrupt. So in a matter of comparison, I would take being a prisoner in a capitalist society rather than one in a communist society.

2. Capitalism ended slavery in the sense that a Capitalist society had a war and the side with the more advanced technology and willpower managed to win the civil war and establish a written in the constitution law, that made it so people can not legally own slaves. And then at some point most capitalist societies made laws that outlawed slavery. (Of course the prison system is an exploited loophole, which I would 100% to have fixed).

3. The health care system is also a corrupt mess. America’s healthcare system has been exploited by Big Pharma and overcharges its people to insane degrees which I personally hate. And I would not be against some sort of baseline care for everyone. But the problem is that Communism health care isn't what people imagine it would be. It removes people’s choice on the matter. Also socialist Healthcare in places such as Canada do still provide Private Health insurance. So I wouldn't be entirely against having that, (but half the Canadians I know say the system sucks greatly) I think as long as the choice is there I wouldn't mind it.

4. Communist and Socialist healthcare systems do however vastly slow down medical innovation and in the case of Communism, keeps the better care for those at the top. The capitalist system at least allows for some sort of charity system that allows for people to donate, work around certain things to get care and people that can find a way to pay can pay. I wouldn't mind having a baseline healthcare for everyone, but the problem is there is such a thing as limited resources. Even in a PERFECT Social healthcare system, it would still have limited resources and involve the government deciding on who gets what and who has to die. Which is kind of f***ed up.

5. About having connections to move up the capitalist ladder. That is literally the same everywhere. Life is about who you know, I personally believe a meritocracy would be better but that aint how it works. That won't change regardless of the system your in. Though I am the child of immigrants that literally busted their asses when they were dirt poor to be able to provide for my sister and me. They moved up. I will say it is a lot harder nowadays, but people have done it. Hell, I know my buddy is doing it right now. He is working his way through school and studying programing. I am proud of him.

6. As someone who has personally worked at food banks and Homeless shelters. There would still be homeless people. There is a lot of mental illness in the homeless community. Supplying housing does not fix the situation because they don't know how to take care of a house. Also the fact that some people also don't want to live in a place. Everyone paints it as black and white, but the whole homeless crisis has a lot of layers to it and I do believe that at least in this system, they would still be alive. Back in Cuba and In the soviet union the mentally ill were executed...

Lastly, all of the things you listed are valid to an extent, but the problem is that the issues you are referring too come from CORRUPTION of a system not the system itself. I do think I agree with your statements on the flaws of capitalism. I have my own personal beefs with the system, but I am enough of a realist to know that full on socialism ALWAYS ends in authoritarianism. Whether its communism or Facism, it ends poorly.

#communism #capitialism #flawed systems #Last post on this

21 notes · View notes

prurientpuddlejumper · 4 years

Text

A Punchable Face That I Want to Kiss, Ch. 5 [18+/NSFW]

<- Chapter 4 | Chapter 6 ->

Summary: After your not-boyfriend, Frederick Chilton, turns out to be not-dead, you hope you can elevate your status from fuckbuddies. Maybe be honest about how you feel? But honesty is haaard... especially when he is more closed-off than ever.

(This is probably my favorite chapter. It has actual smut. And ridiculous idiots, and fluuuuuuuff)

5,075 words

After Hannibal fled, leaving a bloodbath in his wake, Dr. Frederick Chilton returned to the land of the living and to administrating his psychiatric hospital as if he had simply been away on vacation.

Likewise, your relationship resumed where it had left off. You thought things would be different now—that you would be more honest with your feelings, and he might open up, too—but nothing changed, except for the things that changed in a direction you didn’t like.

“Oh, Doctor Chilton, I need help,” you purred, leaning seductively against the doorway of his office. He sat up rigidly in his leather chair and stammered a greeting with failed nonchalance.

Since his return, his voice shot up an octave whenever you walked in the room. He was like a shy teenager with his first crush, and you could only assume he was re-learning how to exist in the world after trauma. What else would it be?

Slinking up to his desk, you unfastened the top buttons of your shirt. He swallowed, hungry, but not immediately pouncing upon you with a lewd promise growled in your ear and a firm grasp on your hip like he used to do. New reserves of insecurity crouched beneath his skin like lions hidden in tall grass. It broke your heart to see that timidity in his eyes, but it was all incentive for you to work harder to relax him.

“I’m afraid I don’t have insurance, doctor,” you pouted, pushing aside a stack of papers to sit on his desk. “And mental health care is prohibitively costly because of a broken for-profit system, leaving the most vulnerable populations without access…” you put an emphasis on vulnerable, biting your lip.

He quirked a brow. “Your sexy-talk needs work.”

“Oh, doctor,” you moaned, sliding off the desk and straddling his lap to pull at his tie. “Until we get universal healthcare”—you brought the end of his orange tie up to your mouth and bit it, gazing coquettishly into his eyes—“surely there’shh some ofther way I can pay you…” you lisped, mouth stuffed full of tie.

He never knew it was possible to laugh, be annoyed, and aroused at the same time, but you were always teaching him new things.

“That would be a severe ethics violation,” he said sternly, brows lowered, but clearly teasing. You snorted.

It was impossible to remain self-conscious around someone flirting so badly. His hesitation melted away as he turned your awkward role-play around on you, so you moved on to phase two. Sinking to your knees at the foot of his chair, half under his desk, you smoothed the fabric of his pants over his lap, rubbing his inner thighs to coax his legs open and position yourself between them.

He drew in a sharp breath, but disguised it as a gasp of offense. “This is highly inappropriate. I am going to have to ask you to leave my office. Future visits will be attended by a nurse to ensure proper conduct, or I can refer you to another psychiatrist,” he said in a dry monotone, fully committed to playing hard-to-get. You growled in annoyance at him in between bursts of laughter. He patted your head patronizingly. “Now, now, I am a magnanimous doctor. I am not angry with you as a patient for this behavioral outburst… just disappointed.”

You licked your lips. Challenge accepted. You ran your hands over the front of his dress pants until you found the outline of his cock, and stroked it through the fabric, arching your back while giving him your best please-fuck-me look. He swallowed.

Unzipping the fly, you reached into the warmth of his pants, searching through a bed of curled hairs until you found his cock and drew it out to admire. The skin was velvety and soft, pulsing with heat as you gave it a few slow strokes, watching it grow larger and more firm. You loved it at its full arousal, when it took its sculptural form and shape with veins running up the underside of the shaft, when the foreskin pulled back and the domed pink head stood out, ready to plunge itself into you.

God, you loved his cock.

“On the other hand,” he quickly changed his mind, “perhaps I require a demonstration of this ‘alternative payment.’ For the sake of due diligence.”

Your brought your tongue to its head and gave a teasing lick, tasting the salt of his precum, then kissed it like you would kiss his lips. You pecked a series of kisses down the length of his shaft until you were buried in his neatly trimmed curls, lips brushing the wrinkled skin of his balls, then flattened your tongue against his cock and traced a torturously slow wet line from the base to the tip.

“I confess... you are my most attractive patient,” he said in a shaky, staggering breath, one side of his lips quirking upward. His chest was rising and falling rapidly now. He wanted more. “That is very good.” Not content with you stopping to look up at him, his hand cradled the back of your head, pushing you down and urging you to continue. “But I will need more payment than that.”

Taking his entire thick cock in your mouth, you slid down it until he hit the back of your throat and you gagged, eyes watering a little as you adjusted to having your throat stuffed full of him, jaw forced open wide. His manicured fingers curled into your hair, gently petting you. “Easy,” he soothed.

It was nice sucking the dick of someone as fastidiously clean as Frederick Chilton. You always appreciated that as you began, moving slowly up his shaft until your lips were only closed around the swollen head, licking it gently, then faster until you felt his fingers tighten. He always tasted faintly of soap and very little else. His sedentary lifestyle helped as well; he was never running around and building up a nasty sweat. It was a pleasant little bonus to the whole affair. His cock was the most delicious you’d ever had.

Your head bobbed up and down in his lap with renewed vigor, building a rhythm with his hand gently guiding you to his preference (which you followed to please him, and deviated from to get a reaction). You loved watching his face—his breathing as he struggled to control it, the way his mouth twitched, and his eyes watched you work. That desperate little whine in his throat when you broke his rhythm, which grew into a low moan he tried to suppress when you started a new one.

He gave you instructions: slower, faster, use your tongue... just like that. Good. You twisted, and sucked, and pumped his base with your hands, gliding your tongue along the underside of his cock until the exquisite moment when he broke down, and stopped trying to keep his breathing (and noises) under control. By the end, he was a shaking mess mess, barely able to stammer out “k-keep going!” You loved to watch the moment he surrendered to you completely, his fingers digging into your scalp as his hips jerked helplessly, and his mouth falling open as he released into you, moaning and gasping so loudly the staff were sure to hear.

You kept him buried in your mouth as his hot seed spilled on your tongue, swallowing every drop until his muscles stopped their convulsions, and you licked his cockhead clean. Cleaning up was a pain in the ass otherwise (and Frederick might implode if any got on his dress pants), but also, his largely vegetarian diet made him taste exceptionally sweet. You smiled up at him and ran your tongue over your lips as he panted, a sheen of sweat on his brow.

As he was coming down, the phone on his desk rang, and naturally, the ambitious jerk answered it without so much as a thank you, or even putting his dick away. Orgasm complete: never mind you, back to work. Based on his half of the conversation, it sounded important—something about a publishing deal for a book he writing on Hannibal the Cannibal. The tone of his voice took on that haughty smarter-than-you air as the topic turned to intellectual property rights, and he was clearly driving for more money. So you started sucking his overstimulated dick. He gasped loudly into the receiver, and stared down at you in horror as he tried to cover for it. “I apologize. A bee got into my office, and I have to swat it.” He pushed you off his lap, eyes sparking like choppy waves on a windy sea.

“That was rude,” he growled when he got off the phone, a somewhat deranged smile slanting up one side of his face. He bent you over the desk and slapped your ass, whispering promises into your ear of how he would pay you back later.

You knew he would keep his promises. Each one. He had a lot more aggression to work out lately, and while you weren’t its target, a good hard fuck always made him feel better. You knew when you went to his house tonight you were guaranteed to have a lot of fun in a lot of positions—but you also knew when you were done, he would usher you out with some excuse for why you could’t stay.

That was the biggest, and worst, change. You thought the incident would bring you closer, but he hadn’t let you spend one night with him since the day he was shot.

It made you feel cheap.

Worse, it meant you were drifting apart. He used to be grateful (though he would never admit it) that you were there for the nightmares. When he woke up shaking he would turn to hold you, crushing you against his chest like a teddy until the shaking stopped, and he drifted back to sleep still holding you tight. You would have thought he would need you there more than ever, now. Something made him stop trusting you.

*****

“Did I do something wrong?”

You were in the cramped passenger seat of his midlife-crisis Porsche cabriolet as he drove you home yet again, and a silence had fallen over him. It was a warm spring night with beautiful stars in the breeze above you glowing their brightest, albeit faded amid the glow of Baltimore’s city lights.

“Not at all. I am simply setting healthy boundaries, darling. I begin to suspect you only like me for the amenities.”

His house was new—he did not want to move back into the place he had found Abel Gideon dissected, and Hannibal had slaughtered and arranged two FBI agents for display—and even more grandiose than the last. All of the staircases were spiral for some unfathomable reason (because it was fancier), and it contained an entire gym, pool, gourmet kitchen, and a television the size of an actual movie theater screen. The bath had hot-tub jets.

Admittedly, it was nice staying there. It made you feel like someone who’d seen the inside of a country club. But his answer was complete bullshit.

“You know I don’t care about all your fancy crap,” you groaned.

“Do I? You told me you only stayed the night because my house was nice, and you enjoyed my coffee.”

Ouch. OK. Called out. “Obviously I was lying! I only like your stuff because it’s part of who you are—I can’t imagine you not being shamelessly bourgeoisie—not because I want a sugar daddy. If that’s what you’re worried about… why don’t we stay at my apartment?”

The thought never crossed his mind that you might call his bluff. He was horror-stricken.

“At your little… chalet?” he said like he was poking a dead bug with the end of a stick.

“It’s an apartment.”

Trapped by his own logic, instead of dropping you at your front door, Frederick got out and hobbled up the narrow staircase with you.

“My god, what is this? For ants?”

“It’s called a full bed, Frederick, and there’s plenty of room,” you answered with a little annoyance creeping into your voice. You knew he was prissy, but from the moment he set foot in your two-bedroom (which you could barely afford) he had been acting like he was in a decrepit slum. It was hilarious, actually, how living like a normal human being made him squirm.

He flopped down into the middle of the mattress, a sullen expression on his face like a toddler in a time-out. “You cannot expect me to sleep on this prison cot.”

“Move over,” you nudged him, crawling onto the covers beside him. “There’s plenty of room if we cuddle.”

He didn’t look interested in cuddling at the moment, however. He stared up at the ceiling like he was about to explode. You smiled. Even at his bitchiest and sulkiest, there was no one else you would rather spend time with. He tugged at your heartstrings. You admired his profile—his square brow that could express so much emotion (right now: petulance), the new scar on his cheek that was clearly the source of some embarrassment to him (though you thought it looked rugged), the stubble down his jaw with the slightest hint of grey. He was just so handsome.

Seeing his scar this close up was rare, as he always tried to keep you on his right side whenever you were seated or laying next to each other. You rested your chin on your arm and smiled at him, but he didn't smile back, or even glance over. He just stared at the ceiling like you weren’t even there. You waggled your eyebrows suggestively, hoping to get a laugh (or an irate glare that was secretly a laugh).

No response at all. He was moody.

You rolled on your side to cuddle him, intent on kissing that scar, but when your hands touched his chest, he flinched, recoiling with a surprised yelp.

That was the last straw. His nostrils flared and eyes widened as if this was the gravest indignity he had ever suffered. He jumped up from the bed frantically saying, “I have to go.”

And he did. Just like that.

You tried not to cry. He was being a jerk. He was going through post-traumatic stress. He just needed space, and it wasn’t your fault, you said, but you counted up all of the ways it was your fault anyway.

You were always so blunt and rude with him. As much as he deserved it when he was being officious, exploitative, surly, or generally the poster child for “check your privilege,” he probably didn’t want to be around someone who called him out all the time. It was a miracle he tolerated you at all. You’d gone easier on him since he returned from the dead, but maybe he simply didn’t want a rude fuckbuddy anymore.

You decided you wouldn’t bother him. He needed space, and you constantly showing up at his office and calling his house wasn’t helping, and it obviously wasn’t what he wanted.

Not three days went by before he called wondering where you had been. You could hear him trying to hide the worry in his voice, and the relief when you told him you were fine, and not angry. He wanted to see you. Not just the usual tryst, either: he wanted to take you out for dinner.

You had no idea what was going on.

*****

Chilton was terrified when you stopped calling him. His greatest fear hit him deeper than a scalpel—that you were dead. Hannibal was back from wherever it was he went, and he was killing off everyone close to his enemies. Or any other of hundreds of killers. When it was clear that nothing horrible had happened to you, and you were, in fact, alive, he realized his second greatest fear—he had fucked up and finally driven you away.

A few of his exes used to give him the cold shoulder when he had committed some error, like failing to spoil them with gifts or expensive dinners, or pretending to forget their name. Maybe you, too, were punishing him, and he still had a chance to win you back. It seemed very likely that you wanted more from him than just sex. He had been selfish and unreciprocal with you—though outwardly, you never asked for anything else, except to stay the night. But he could never do that, not anymore.

Instead, pampering you at a Michelin-star restaurant seemed like a good start.

*****

Dinner with Chilton that night made it clear why you had never gone out on a proper date with him before. His world was not your world.

As you walked in, you were fairly sure the maître d' glared at you for wearing what you considered your nicest outfit—but given that your typical dinner was boxed mac n’ cheese in your underwear, your best may not have been up to standard.

Frederick was at the bar waiting for you, severely out-dressing you in a formal black suit and dazzlingly contrasting tie, but didn’t make any underhanded comments on your attire. He crossed the room to meet you, flashing that used-car-salesman smile he hadn’t used on you since the first time you met, and offered his elbow in a revoltingly genteel fashion. It was like he was a stranger.

The the maître d’hôtel guided you to your reserved table, and Frederick set his cane to the side, sat, and crossed his legs. You felt like you were being interviewed. Was this an interview? From an inner pocket of his suit jacket, he produced and handed you a silver-inlaid pen that cost more than your rent.

“I don’t want this.” You left it sitting on the white tablecloth and stared at it like an alien artifact, trying to figure out what made it better than a two-dollar pen from the drugstore. Maybe he could still return it.

He got flustered, blinking in confusion, then held his chin up haughtily, jaw clenched. “No accounting for taste, then.”

You groaned. For some reason he wasn’t pretending to be wounded this time, he actually felt rejected. Over a stupid overpriced pen. “Fine! I’ll take it if it’ll make you feel better,” you caved in, snatching it off the table. “But if we break up, I’m pawning this.”

His mouth curled, primed to make a retort, but then went slack.

Was he thinking of breaking up?

Was that what dinner was about? That’s right—that trick of breaking up in a public space so you won’t cry and make a scene. It would explain why he’d been acting so nervous and distant lately. Why else would he suddenly want to take you out?

An awkward silence fell over the table. You wished this place had paper napkins you could stress-doodle on with your stupid new pen. Was it a breakup gift? Were breakup gifts a thing?

The waiter blessedly interrupted to take your orders, which Chilton gently assisted you with because everything was in French, the menu did not have pictures, and none of it appeared to be mac n’ cheese. He also ordered an entire bottle of Chateau Lafite Rothschild for the table, which you divined from the slight puffing out of his chest was meant to impress you.

When it didn’t, things went back to being sulky and awkward. By the time the bread arrived at the table, he had already downed a glass, and reached to pour himself another.

Instead of grabbing the open bottle, he completely misjudged the distance and knocked it on its side with a string of swears. Dark red liquid poured out onto the table. Acting quickly, you reached to pick it up, but collided with Chilton who was also trying to salvage the bottle, and succeeded only in batting it toward him where a puddle of wine began overflowing over the edge onto his suit.

Puddle! Spilling! You needed to mop up the excess quickly! You grabbed slices of baguette and started soaking it up.

“Why are you using bread when there are napkins for this?�� Chilton hissed.

“I don’t know! You’re the dumbass who knocked over the Roth IRA Burgundy.”

His eyes bulged from his skull. “Rothschild! Bordeaux! And it wasn’t that bad until you flung it at me!”

“Do you want to help, or do you want to continue berating me?”

“I am more than capable of doing both!” he cried, grabbing a napkin and righting the bottle.

The table was a complete disaster. Wine even got all over your stupid fancy pen, which matched the stupid fancy pen in his office. Oh. That was sort of sweet, actually. As you wiped it dry, you noticed it had your name inscribed around one of the silver rings.

The waiter hurried over to assist, and Chilton looked positively mortified.

“Sorry,” you shrugged sheepishly. “I’m a little clumsy.”

After much fussing and cleaning was finished, Chilton sat back in his chair, eyes boring into you. He swallowed.

“Why did you...?”

“They already think I’m a mess, this way they’ll at least let you back in here.”

“Well, that is very…” a dark blush crept up his neck from under his collar. “You didn’t have to do that"

You reached your hand across the fresh tablecloth, and he took it, rubbing soft circles in the flesh between your thumb and forefinger. (It was a testament to your familiarity that the massive, ostentatious gold ring he always wore no longer felt in the way when you held his hand.) His eyes lingered on you, and the blush continued working its way up to his face.

Things felt open enough to quietly ask, “So, what is all this, anyway? You’ve never wanted to take me out before.”

“I assumed you wanted something from me; you have been ignoring me,” he bristled slightly at your density. “If this is not it, then what?”

You blinked. He really thought you’d been holding out on him to… get something? And the way his voice strained when he asked, “then what?” told you he would do whatever it was you requested.

You shook your head at the tablecloth and squeezed his hand. “The way you left the other day, I assumed you didn’t want to be around me.”

“Oh.” The brilliant psychiatrist hadn’t thought of that.

He didn’t apologize, and you knew he never would (about anything—it was one of the reasons so many people wanted to punch him), but his demeanor softened and any resentment you’d been holding onto faded with his dumbfounded expression.

“So.” You cleared your throat. “How’s… uh, psychiatry?”

“Well, most daily therapy sessions I have delegated to focus on writing…” He launched into a mundane description of his work, and you just… talked. Like a normal couple. It was strange in its ordinariness, but it was nice to not have your entire interaction revolve around getting dick. It made going back to his mansion after dinner and getting dick even more meaningful. You were sure this time he would let you stay.

When he tried to send you away again, you had had enough.

*****

“I don’t understand, what changed?” you asked a little too brusquely and immediately regretted it. “I know you need space,” you breathed out in a more understanding tone, “but I need to know where we stand… Do you want to break up with me?”

He froze in the middle of throwing a shirt on over his bare chest and dropped it back into the dresser, turning to gawk at you with shocked-wide eyes. “What? No! Of course not.”

That was a relief at least. “Then why won’t you let me stay?”

He was far too exposed: his abdominal scar still prominently pointing up to his blaze of brown chest hair, and you, ambushing him in his own bedroom. “You cannot let it go, can you? You want to know?!” he snapped, limping resentfully across the room. He had reached a breaking point. “It’s because I cannot sleep with the prosthetics in.”

“The...” your brain crashed and you frantically clicked enter on the reboot screen, “...prosthetics…?”

He scowled. “Did you believe the bullet passed neatly through the copious empty space in my skull without causing any collateral damage? That this little scar is the sum total of my injury?”

Of course. You hadn’t even considered that there was more to his near-fatal shooting than what you saw on the surface. It was breathtakingly ignorant now that you thought about it. He was shot. In the head. He spent weeks at an expensive medical resort where they could perform all kinds of reconstructive miracles, and he let you believe he was dead until they had finished whatever it was they were fixing.

“Show me.”

His face twitched. “You do not want to know.”

“I do.”

“Then I do not wish you to know.”

“Why?”

Emotion boiled under his face, but he breathed in through his nose and kept his outward composition calm, controlled. “It would change the way you see me. Every time you look at me, I do not want you to see that.”

You crossed the room to him. Gently, you put your hand on his arm, and slowly rubbed up and down. His breathing was shallow, controlled but barely. He didn’t push you away. You wrapped your arms around him and buried your face in his neck, listening to his pulse whispering a swift beat. “I just want to know you, Frederick. Please.”

*****

Doctors had seen it. That was by necessity: he had paid for the best cosmetic prosthetics available in the country to look exactly like his old self, with the exception of the scar on his left cheek which could never be fully hidden.

He had shown it to Mason Verger, but that, too, was different—a mutual display of their motivations for revenge. It was almost a contest to see who was the more disgusting, the most wronged.

You would not be the first to see his face, but you were the first whom he cared about disgusting. The first whom he cared about. He did not want to see you recoil from him in shock. He did not want to lose you. He did not want you to see the darkness hanging over him.

He acquiesced, but refused to make a circus display of taking his teeth out in front of you, and vanished into the master bathroom for a long time. As you waited, you rehearsed not reacting—not showing a hint of shock that would make him regret the choice to let you in—yet as each minute ticked by, you grew more and more anxious.

The door opened.

“Jesus fuck.”

His lower eyelid sagged without the support of a massive chunk of facial bone holding it in place, and the eye within was the milky blue-white of a fish preserved in formaldehyde. The skin of his cheek sagged over half a mouth of missing teeth, and the left corner of his lip hung slightly too loose.

“Eloquent as always,” he said, adding some bite to the word. He hoped you knew what a jerk you were.

You rushed in to hold him, and he stiffened, looking away. “Oh, your eye,” you whined. He must have been completely blind in it, but he masked it so well you never noticed. He flinched as you touched his face.

“Don’t,” he whispered.

You pulled your hand back and searched his expression. “Do you want me to stop?”

He thought about it, and huffed, rolling one eye. You were being so cute, and at least not fleeing in terror. He stuck his chin out. “Go ahead. Do what you want.”

With a sour frown, he let you explore his skin with your fingertips, finding scars and hollow cavities where bone was supposed to be. “You’re missing… oh, god, it must have shattered the maxillary bone, and,” you felt farther back, continuing to find hollow gaps. “Oh god, baby…”

“Do not pity me, it is unbecoming.”

“Heh,” you breathed, slyly sliding your hands up over his shoulders and arcing them loosely around the back of his neck. “I thought you didn’t care about my motivations,” you said, languidly drawing out each vowel.

That earned an irritated look, finally meeting your gaze. You grinned back.

“Sorry,” you said, biting your lip.

You kissed him all along the sagging side of his mouth, pressing your lips to every new contour and texture. A few worried noises escaped his throat, along with half-formed words of caution of what you might not want to kiss, but they were quickly swallowed by groans of pleasure as you worshiped his mouth, reveling in each new discovery. All his imperfections were perfect, and you wanted him to feel that in every touch, filling each glowing breath with all the love and acceptance in your heart.

“Does it hurt?”

“Not anymore, but it itches.”

“I hate itches.”

“As do I,” he breathed.

You kissed him again, this time his tongue danced along your lips to taste you. It darted between your teeth, curling around your tongue as his strong hands snaked around the back of your head, pulling you harder into the kiss. He grunted, teeth clashing with yours as your lips interlocked with feral passion, consuming each other until your lips were bruised and you had to break away, breathless and panting.

“I’m so glad you're alive,” you smiled, trying not to let tears well up in the corners of your eyes. “You came back to me. You’re amazing, you know that? What you can survive.”

His chest puffed out a little. He was amazing, wasn’t he? But when he spoke again, it was sullen.

“I did not want you to see what a monster I’ve become.”

You shook your head. “You’re still beautiful. Absolutely perfect. I’m sorry it happened, but you know I’m going to love you no matter what…” You trailed off as a word snagged in your throat. Did you just say…

“You love me?”

Dry. Your throat suddenly felt drier than sandpaper, and swallowing didn’t fix it. You weren’t supposed to admit that to him. He was going to tease you, to twist it around somehow to use against you—

“I love you, too.”

#frederick chilton #Frederick Chilton x reader #hannibal #raul esparza #My writing #I spent like 4 hours editing this why do I make my own life so hard lmao

78 notes · View notes