#i have ocd and if i believed every time i had a horrible thought i let myself think it was reflective of

[1roentgen]

.

[catatombi]

beware of fang

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

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

The drive is a bit out of date, as I logged it all before april.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

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

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

warts screenshots v

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

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

[traumatizedjaguar]

Abusers never getting their story straight:

I spoke to one abuser who said that he wasn’t an abuser because he lacked self awareness about his behaviors during the time he abused women he had relationships with. So being mentally ill let him off the hook for abusive behaviors. But he still had a right to get revenge and abuse people in extreme ways who minorly hurt him as I was given details of those situations… but nobody has a right to hurt him back.

I spoke to one abuser who claimed he wasn’t the only abuser in the relationship and that him and his ex gf were 50/50 when it came to splitting up the role of being the abuser. So he went on to tell us in the chat that it’s a good thing bc now it’s a “fun” war where he’s justified in doing whatever he wants to his ex girlfriend and nobody can talk him into thinking differently. I asked for details and he told us, so fucking clearly, that his ex-gf just reacted to his abuse…. He drove her “crazy” basically.

I talked to another abuser that said he had NPD and his ex had CPTSD, OCD and BPD and he laughed about how they “made a beautiful mess of everything” when they dated. Red flag. From all the details, he had no self awareness of describing that he abused her first, but he thought “so what” bc “she’s bad too”, dragged her through horrible and stressful situations, justifying it bc “he had childhood trauma” causing her to react to him in such intensity and horrible behaviors back. He blamed her BPD and his NPD saying they were both abusers, but everything he described had absolutely nothing to do with her BPD, and more so to do with his treatment of her, and her simple reaction to that which can get either confused or overlap with BPD symptoms coming out. Why not blame her CPTSD? CPTSD had a lot of symptoms about flashbacks, emotional dysregulation, even anger issues sometimes and when she displays these symptoms why is that not automatic “she’s the abuser” with the CPTSD? Why not blame her OCD? Anxiety around loved ones too. He admitted without realizing it probably that he gaslit her and she did not gaslight him; he gaslighted her in extreme ways I was concerned that he will never change his way of thinking.

I’m spoke to another abuser who said he kept pushing a girl into a relationship and would never leave her alone and didn’t count this as emotional abuse and potential stalking. She non stop would run from him and tell him to get away and stop bothering her. He genuinely believed coercion isn’t abusive if he spread out his coercive behavior over the course of months as in: “coerce her for 3-5 minutes, then leave her alone, repeat for months every other week or so”. Which made no sense like “people change their minds especially if every week I can come up with something good to get her to turn her no into a yes”. He harassed her, stalked her, and coerced her into things she didn’t want to do and claimed she abused him when she reacted so badly to him one day at school and embarrassed him in front of all their classmates. Which he said he had a right to get revenge on her and bully her for embarrassing him; obviously he does not have a right to abuse her because he abused her first, she reacted and told him off in front of everybody, then he claimed to be a victim.

Mutual abuse is non-existent.

[justanothersyscourse]

oh hi it’s -flower anon

I mostly was sending the asks in since I have moral OCD and the uncertainty and genuine horrible things I’ve seen very much conflict.

I’m only anti-endo due to the very, very cultish nature of a lot of it and have fallen for too many cults already.

(I was groomed into a online cannibalism gore cult at a very young age and still deal deal with the consequences of that, fell for way too many death cults, and almost was lost to way too many other hateful things)

so when the Moral OCD kicks in I trust it, it’s only lead me out of these bad situations.

I know my opinions are probably very uncommon, but too many cults and cultish mindsets I’ve fell for.

honest to god, I was at one point ready to kill myself because I thought overpopulation was real And those accelerationists got to me.

so for wholehearted honesty it’s too much for me, personally I believe fully in cultural and spiritual multiplicity.

But most endo/tulpa/willo spaces aren’t that, and that uncertainty of if- “is this person saying that ‘hey this is just a cultural and spiritual thing’ or is this person not any of those what are they I don’t wanna get into a covert cult again”

but as the current state of endo/willo/Tulsa spaces are, it’s so so cultish that it’s triggering me.

Everything sets off so many alarms in my brain that I trained myself to recognize,

so that’s why I was worrying and asking about it.

you’d too if you had fallen for so many dangerous cult stuff.

Too many death cults man, too many online death cults.

Hi flower ❤️ I hope you're doing okay. I've been sitting on this draft, debating if what I have to say would be helpful or damaging.

You came back, though, so I feel that I need to respond in some way... I'm going to be honest, I'm scared to make this post, this is a very polarized topic in the system community. But... maybe what I say can help someone.

I hope you'll read through to the end. No matter what, whether you disagree with me or not, I genuinely hope you're okay and that things get a bit easier for you. It probably doesn't help, but I know what you're feeling.

I have bad OCD myself. I'm lucky in that I don't struggle with that specific type anymore, but I feel for you 🫂

I'm also very sorry to hear about what you've been through ):

Before I talk, know that this response isn't to change your mind. My only goal is to try to help settle some of that stress.

I want you to feel less stressed by this entire thing. It's okay.

When I was still very heavily anti endo, I felt the exact same way. I'm not just saying that. I also run sysmedsaresexist, and I'm pretty sure I have posts calling the pro endo community "cult-ish" in nature. I probably did it a number of times. You're not alone in that view. I was worried that doctors were going to fall for it, that innocent people were getting dragged into believing they were systems, all of it. Been there, done that.

However, as I slowly moved from anti to critical, I realized BOTH sides display the EXACT same behaviors. The antis were just as bad, once I stepped back to look at it.

To the point that if you put the posts next to each other with identifying characteristics hidden, it could come from, and be about either side. Here's an example.

Either both sides are a cult, or cult is not an appropriate word to be using for syscourse.

It's the latter, I've learned over the years.

And once I got over myself and actually spoke with endo systems... I swear to you, I promise you, with every fiber of my being, that most of what you hear is fear mongering.

Most.

But the same can be said about anti endos. Endos are terrified of antis, but that's because they only hear other endos talking about their HORRIBLE experiences with antis. Some of it is true, most of it isn't, most is... more than a little bit exaggerated.

It just is. Endos think you, specifically you, flower anon, send death threats.

Do you? I'm willing to bet not, but you're lumped into that group whether you like it or not, whether it's true or not.

While syscourse can feel TERRIFYING, like life versus death (trust me, I know), I promise it's actually okay.

It's going to be okay. You're going to be okay.

The medical community is going to be okay. Your resources will be okay. The endos will be okay. The antis will be okay.

I am still actively involved in clinical circles, and I promise you, doctors know the difference between CDDs and plurality. Doctors ARE talking about endogenic systems, but try to give them a bit more credit.

Did you know that the multiple theory of self is as old as the ToSD? But it's a concept based in philosophy and the discussion of consciousness. These are two totally different things that are both valid. The issue is overlapping language. But if we're mad about "system" being shared, why aren't we more mad at IFS? Does "computer system" dehumanize CDD systems, too? That's dumb. No it doesn't.

Radqueers exist in every single community, and so do people who don't like radqueers. For every radqueer endo, there's another endo squinting hard at that and complaining to their friends. There are radqueer DID systems. They exist. It happens. It's like saying lesbians are bad because there's radfems and radqueers in that community, too. The intersection of multiplicity, sexuality and gender is VERY confusing, with more moving parts than you can count. Obviously there are going to be people with very wide and very narrow views about it.

(That said, I don't bother with radqueer stuff very much, I have NEVER participated in that discourse because I don't feel that I understand the nuance of it enough to have a fully informed view of it.

Wouldn't it be nice if more people could acknowledge that they don't understand things enough?

Anti endos, I'm looking at you)

Your ability to see cult tactics in things is something that has protected you, but that doesn't make it healthy. Do not try to overcome or change that part of you without the help of a specialist. That's not what I'm saying.

Seeing the world as dangerous, and signs of danger in the world, is what protects everyone, but for trauma affected people, this ability is broken. It's hyperactive. That's something that we all approach in therapy, eventually. You don't need to change right now, but one day you'll want to be able to see the good in things, and that takes so much more practice and guidance than you could imagine.

An easy way to start, though, is empathy and introspection-- not just into your self, but into your community. To recognize the double standards and be able to critically put aside those fears and concerns without someone else making the decision for you.

I can tell you that isolation is a major tactic used by cults, and it's the antis telling you to do that, isn't it? They say, don't even hear the other side out, I'll tell you what they're saying, and you can just believe me.

Isn't that what @number1-syscourse-blog was telling you to do? And it's only the pro side saying you can be friends with BOTH sides-- not just other pro endos, but telling you that it's okay to be friends with antis and pros. That it's healthy and good to surround yourself with differing opinions and form your own conclusions. I don't know if you can see the number of people telling number1 syscourse what a bad response that was. Not just me, SO MANY PEOPLE! They're all blocked and hidden now.

Because the full picture is a beautiful thing.

Making your own choices and drawing your own conclusions is a powerful thing.

And the picture is not as ugly or scary as number1 syscourse would have you believe.

My suggestion to you is to just... not talk syscourse with your friends. Just be friends. Talk about the dumbest shit and remember that you're both just human, trying to understand the world around you.

For fun, and to settle minds, let's go through, just to drive the point home. It's going under a cut, just in case, but be aware, I'm critically tearing apart both sides for being ridiculous.

Pros and antis, cult edition

Characteristics of a cult:

Absolute authoritarianism without accountability

Now, neither side has a leader, so to speak, but we can talk about how members of each community can say whatever they want without any accountability. We have people on both sides wishing death on the other, and no one is stepping in to say, "yo, wtf?" No, those posts are instead spread further by people reblogging their friends, because 🌈 brand loyalty 🌈 rather than any kind of critical thought.

Yes, both sides do this. No, that's not up for debate. It's happening. If you think it's not, you're either being willfully blind, or you've fallen into the isolation trap.

DNIs aren't shields against shitty behavior, just like free speech doesn't allow for hate speech, but people sure do love hiding behind DNIs. Like, they'll post a GOOD ask, with great points, and respond with a womp womp, can't you read my DNI, and it's like... maybe you should have read more than the first line, my dude. Free publicity for the other sides' ideals, because you literally can't be bothered to read anything.

Honesty, I think the block feature is the downfall of humanity. There are anti endo blogs posting misinformation on DID that can't be corrected because they've blocked everyone that knows more than them. I've tried to correct a lot of them, I'm blocked.

It's an echo chamber, much like how you view pro endo spaces.

Zero tolerance for criticism or questions

Come on, do I actually need to talk about this? See the DNI point again. Good asks with good points with a nonsense response because, OH GOD, anon dared to have a slightly different belief on something. Endo neutrals, people trying to ask questions and learn, aren't even allowed to interact with most blogs, even just for questions.

Lack of meaningful financial disclosure regarding budget

Another way that "cult" isn't an appropriate term, though we could talk about TPA here. I really, really don't like the TPA.

Unreasonable fears about the outside world that often involve evil conspiracies and persecutions

Hey, pot, meet kettle.

A belief that former followers are always wrong for leaving and there is never a legitimate reason for anyone else to leave

Hey, that's what happened to me when I left the anti side!

Abuse of members

Yeah, they abused me pretty bad for trying to correct misinformation on @antimisinfo's (an anti endo) post. People are constantly being ostracized and kicked out of their community for looking too hard at the other side. God forbid you hear them out, for curiosities sake.

Records, books, articles, or programs documenting the abuses of the leader or group

Not really?

Followers feeling they are never able to be “good enough”

Maybe if you squint?

A belief that the leader is right at all times

Who would the leader be? Science? Because science does support endos, and antis won't read a single word of it.

A belief that the leader is the exclusive means of knowing “truth” or giving validation

Again, if we call science the leader... but again, that only applies to antis.

The group is elitist, claiming a special, exalted status for itself, its leader(s), and its members

I can see it, I guess. Mostly out of antis claiming the elite title for trauma.

The group has a polarized us-versus-them mentality, which may cause conflict with the wider society

Both sides have this problem.

The group teaches or implies that its supposedly exalted ends justify whatever means it deems necessary. This may result in members’ participating in behaviors or activities they would have considered reprehensible or unethical before they joined the group

Again, see the point about friends reblogging other friends wishing death on the other side.

The leadership induces feelings of shame and/or guilt in order to influence and/or control members. Often, this is done through peer pressure and subtle forms of persuasion. Members are encouraged or required to live and/or socialize only with other group members.

This would be like saying you're betraying your side for talking to the other side. Huh. Kind of like what happened to you.

Just because the word cult CAN be applied to things doesn't mean it should be. Especially in syscourse, where one side has such a dark history with cult activity, it feels very... inappropriate to call pro/antis in syscourse a cult.

Really, it's just a bunch of people screaming that they're more right than the other side, and using fear mongering to make points that don't actually matter.

[messengerhermes]

Intrusive thoughts are not you, they're an asshole that needs to pay rent in your brain.

So a thing I wish was better shown about intrusive thoughts, particularly if you've suffered with them for years is how fucking tedious they can get. So I deal with a thing called Moral Scrupulosity. It's a kind of OCD where my brain fixates on the idea of morality--specifically it measures every action I do against my own personal moral code and decides whether or not I am Good or Bad. Only, the game is rigged and I am destined to always be Bad. Not just regular Bad. Tainted Bad. Evil Bad. Destroy everything you Touch Bad. This is a problem I've had for a very long time, but had no idea what the fuck was going on til like 2 years ago. I just thought this was regular depression. I've now hit a stage where this shit comes and goes in terms of severity, though it's always ambiently kind of around like a fart in an elevator. Right now, I'm in the midst of a Harder Time, where I have pretty steady intrusive thoughts. Intrusive thoughts if you're wondering are: Thoughts that you cannot control, that interrupt whatever the fuck you're doing, to say something that is upsetting or disturbing to you. Because I have moral scrupolisity, my intrusive thoughts revolve around: -Me secretly being a terrible person. -Self-Harm as the solution to me being a terrible person. -A random stream of horribly unpleasant things that are at odds with my own morality (usually something about slurs, something about violence, slut shaming, body shaming, etc.) -Panic about other people observing me, judging me, or attacking me. These thoughts used to really really fuck me up every time they started getting bad. I used to question myself and my goodness, and be afraid that I was a terrible disgusting person. Then I learned that intrusive thoughts are not what you actually believe. They're basically like if your spiritual nemesis moved into your head with a bullhorn. This was life changing. Realizing my intrusive thoughts are a mental illness, not what I actually believe or feel, has let me separate my identity from them. I am not my intrusive thoughts. They're just a fucked up interloper in my head. A TV I can't shut off. That does not get rid of the stress they cause me, but it does lessen it significantly. I no longer go into a tailspin with these episodes. I'm still drained by them, but not nearly as much. Because now I focus on rerouting my attention. My thought patterns now look more like: "Ah, yeah, I gotta order groceries today [INTRUSIVE THOUGHT] yeah yeah, alright Timmy. Do I still have oat milk left, or is that shit going bad?" They don't take up nearly as much space in my life, despite however much space they take up in my head. It's still tiring, still annoying, but I'm no longer wasting my life questioning if I'm Secretly Evil pretending to be kind. If you have intrusive thoughts, I hope this post makes you feel less alone, less ashamed, and less afraid. You're not your intrusive thoughts.

[quicklikelight]

... In light of the last thing I reblogged, since I'm not actually sure if I ever I ever told folks here...

Mental health/medical diagnosis info under the cut.

I was misdiagnosed with bipolar disorder in 2010 following the birth of my son. I'd had anxiety, depression, and what I now know is OCD symptoms for years at that point, but they all got much worse after kiddo was born. I believe I've shared here before that I was very ill while pregnant, and nearly died before and during my emergency C-section that bright kiddo into the world. I have very few memories of my pregnancy but the ones I do have are impressed into my brain like the world's most depressing stamp collection: not neat pictures, but deep grooves that form shapes and can be laid over one another to see the cumulative chaos, the terror that I still feel every time someone puts a blood pressure cuff around my arm, the dissociation from my body that I still have because all I can remember was it hurting.

I had cptsd before I ever got pregnant, but my pregnancy made my symptoms so much worse, and a doctor who spoke to me for three seconds gave me the "convenient" diagnosis of bipolar disorder. I was a young woman in college, it was 2010, and he never asked me anything about my life. This diagnosis wasn't corrected until 2022.

I'm sharing this because in the past I frequently blogged about being bipolar. I wasn't bipolar though. What I thought was mania was just my behavior when I was triggered beyond my ability to ignore. What I thought was depression was... Well, it was depression. My life was miserable, my ex is a horrible human being who deserves to be thrown in a deep pit full of snakes, my family hates me and acts like it, I lived in Texas of all places, and on top of that I was working in a dead end job that I couldn't ever seem to escape.

In 2020, I was fortunate enough to move in with my friend LC and her family. We weathered the worst of lockdown together, our children becoming close friends, and I'm grateful for the time, energy, space, and love LC afforded me to begin recovering from a lifetime of wounds.

I'm 2021, I moved to New York state to live with my best friend, my heart's companion, @tofixtheshadows. Dea has been the best partner I could want as I grappled with my changing sense of self, the sheer madness and unreality of what my life used to be. I am so fortunate to call her my best friend and to be able to share my life with someone who knows me and wants to help me be better.

I found a psychiatrist in 2022 who changed my life when she said, "I believe everything you say that happened to you. I think bipolar disorder is a convenient diagnosis for a man to give a traumatized young woman when he isn't interested in doing his job well. You aren't bipolar, Anne. You have PTSD."

I was shocked. I shouldn't have been, since I already knew Dea thought I had PTSD. But it seemed so out of left field to me, that... Well, that maybe there hadn't been anything inherently wrong with me in the first place, as I had been led to believe, but that the years of horrible actions happening around and to me had just taken their toll.

It was liberating. Scary, but good.

I've been working with my psychiatrist and a therapist since to try and build more tolerance, better coping skills, and to process my trauma. It's slow going. Life doesn't stop because I need EMDR. But it's ultimately been so rewarding, and I'm still only in the early stages of the work.

Last year, for basically the first time in my adult life, I was able to go off of all my mood altering medications. I just didn't need them anymore.

I'm still in treatment and working toward goals that will probably take a while. But I am happy. I'm actually happy for the first time in my entire life. And to me, that's pretty much everything.

[honeyrisuke]

actually making a post about it here now bc i need to get it off my chest

so, a couple months back I had a really bad mental breakdown and went to therapy, right

and after some hickups I ended up with the guy I have now. He's nice, he's transmasc and has the right qualifications for me.

But so far he has completely misunderstood me at just about every opportunity by chosing to find a 'hidden message' in what I'm saying. I'm german. I don't do hidden messages. Especially not to a therapist.

Originally I explained to him that I get incredibly angry all the time, that I rarely actually feel sadness, I just get mad, usually at myself, and that it's a big strain on my relationships. He chose to interpret that as me not allowing myself to be angry and taking issue with my own anger, and suggesting to just let go and "just feel it sometimes"

I was sussed out by that because I specifically get into trouble and become unsafe BECAUSE I accidentally let go. Still listened to him and had 2/3 moments where I was genuinely not in a safe place because of it.

Explained this to him, he went "ok alright maybe youre not ready yet", and asks me what stops me from distracting myself

I say "because everything I do requires me to do a list of steps to get there, otherwise I'll do it all wrong, and that's exhausting". What he hears: "I am self conscious and think all I ever do is wrong".

I had to explain to him again and again over the course of several sessions that it's not that I'm fussing OCD style over how to do things, but that I will literally blindly send money to someone and then check how much I owe because my brain doesn't work when it comes to multi step tasks. Doing those lists is literally how I learned to deal with this. It's disability related. It's just that when I'm in a horrible headspace, i can't do my list.

Now we FINALLY reached the topic of sadness, after I repeatedly said "I react to getting sad or feeling guilty with anger" since the beginning, and he somehow believed that this meant that I was mildly lashing out at people. I even said the words "I am not safe around myself when these things happen", and he apparently thought this was just my own anxiety and fear of feeling bad. Then right before last session he asked me to write a short story that somehow depicts how I feel sadness, and I did, and we started the session and he quite literally hit me with

like.... homeboy. I don't know how to convey this but I'm not going there because I'm a little sad and explosive sometimes. I am paying 50 euros a week right now because I am genuinely unsafe and scared, and I am CLEARLY communicating as much.

I understand that he probably gets a shitton of patients who are overexaggerating or are just anxious or self conscious, ESPECIALLY in a country like spain where everyone overexaggerates everything all the damn time to the point where harsh words lose all meaning... but to immediately go to that conclusion instead of taking me at face value feels incredibly dismissive. Like. If I was just a little anxious I wouldn't be paying all that money to get help.

[anartistwhowrites]

I’m someone who had to leave a bad job right away. But before I explain why, let me give you some context leading up to this.

I was born with Tourette Syndrome, a nervous system disorder that causes unwanted movements and sounds. Tourettes is often accompanied by a variety of mental health disorders such as ADHD, OCD, Anxiety, Depression, Learning Disabilities, and so much more. I’ve had Tourette’s since I was three and they were a lot worse in school, especially Middle/High School. My mental health was absolutely awful and it was at its lowest after I graduated.

It got to the point where, in 2018, I almost took my own life.

With the help from God and my family, I spent the next three years going to therapy and counseling and getting out of that horrible depression. All while my siblings already had jobs and drivers license’s and cars, and my older sister even had her own apartment. This made me feel behind in “becoming an adult” and I almost relapsed back into my depressive thoughts. But In 2021 I got my first job at a daycare one of my estranged family members used to work at. The job was’t great and after two years of being there, I had to quit. But it wasn’t because “it was too hard, whaaaaaaah” or anything like that.

I was a Daycare Aide, so I had to help assist teachers whose classrooms weren’t in ratio. I was the only aide they had and was constantly being bounced back and forth from every classroom. Now the problem wasn’t the work itself. I don’t mind a bit of hard work. And I loved the kids tremendously. The problem was the work load.

My bosses were overworking me, giving me six hours worth of work to complete in half an hour. And they were getting upset when I wasn’t getting it done. When I wasn’t assisting teachers in the classroom I was basically the janitor: mopping floors, sweeping, vacuuming, cleaning toys, cleaning the bathrooms, and so much more.

I threw out my back and my sciatica constantly. I felt stupid for not being able to complete my tasks on time. And because of my disabilities, some of the co workers I worked with constantly talked down to me like I was also one of the children in the daycare.

Now, while I was considering quitting, I didn’t just “hit the bricks”. I talked to my family first about quitting and they were one hundred percent behind my decision. They knew that I wasn’t being lazy or not trying to power though (they knew I was powering through as best as I could) but every time I got home, they could see how tired and in pain I was. They understood why I had to quit and weren’t going to make me feel bad for quitting the job. But with the money I did earn from there, I was able to finally purchase my first car, so it wasn’t all bad.

So in 2023 I quit. And I have not been able to find another job since. It’s been one year and every job I’ve applied for, from fast food, to dog shelters, to grocery stores, have all ignored me, ghosted me, or rejected me. I live in a rural area and places where I could find better work are an hour or more away. On top of that, the job economy sucks right now and has not been helping anyone.

Let me make it clear, I’m not just sitting on my butt all day, watching TV, and mooching off of my parents. I’ve opened a print store online, I’ve been working on my webcomics, and I’m currently working on a children’s book as a means of forming an income, all while actively job hunting. And I’ve been helping out around the house and taking care of stuff like the laundry and dishes and other stuff like that while my family is busy with their work.

So that’s my life so far. If you are somebody who’s reading this and believes that you’re in a job like mine, please don’t just quit. Really think about if the reasons you have for quitting are legitimate or are just you complaining. It’s tough but a little self reflection doesn’t hurt. And who knows, maybe you were the reason your job isn’t great the whole time. Also, talk to a trusted family member or an elder about quitting. I’m not gonna say to talk to a friend your age because their judgement isn’t going to be trustworthy because they lack the experience and wisdom of someone who’s had more jobs and life experience.

Also please don’t quit without having a few jobs you already applied for. I made that mistake and I’m struggling because of it.

I don’t really know how to end this, so I hope this was able to help someone. Thanks for reading.

if it sucks generally hit da bricks yes. but there are also going to be times in life where you have to stay in uncomfortable or sucky situations because the only way out is through. and that is how life works. sometimes you have to keep that terrible job or that shitty apartment. this site's policy of "don't sink years of your life into something that's not going to be worthwhile" can kind of turn into "immediately stop doing anything you don't like" sometimes and that bothers me

[the-amalgam-house]

I'm not much of a gun person, but my dad is. He has been ever since before he was a cop, probably gained that interest in the navy.

He was beat up a lot as a kid until he got scrappy enough to be able to fight them off. His older brother had size and strength on his side, but not my dad, so often times people would target my dad MORE since he was smaller. Ever since his fights through all of childhood, he's wanted to be able to protect himself and the people he loves NO MATTER WHAT.

That doubled in the police force and quadrupled after he was stabbed. He almost died, his heart stopped and he had to be revived. He says he remembers the emts talking about it, his brain was still barely awake. It's probably the second or third most traumatic experience he's had. Maybe fourth. His own almost murder doesn't take precedence because he believes other good people's lives are worth more than his, and he's witnessed some absolutely horrible shit.

My dad is traumatized a million times over, diagnosed with ptsd... and he always insists everything is fine. Doesn't matter that he's paranoid about being attacked because he's been actually physically assaulted for most of his life. Doesn't matter that he doesn't feel safe without a gun on him at all times. Doesn't matter that he's only just now starting to recover from a 25 year long run of alcoholism.

Everything is fine.

He would never admit that his own mistreatment traumatized him too. It was the gruesome deaths of other people that keep him awake at night, not his own abuse at the hands of others. His personal trauma is just growing pains, it's just a hard experience he got over, it's just parents being old school and they didn't know any different.

So he carries a gun everywhere he goes. Usually alongside at least one pocket knife, and occasionally a more dagger sized switchblade. He can't feel comfortable without weapons on him at any time. There's knives on his person, by his bed, in his car, and he does like to collect pocket knives to begin with but very much because they're also practical in a dangerous scenario.

On top of that, both me and Mami feel that Papi is both autistic like his brother, and likely has OCD. Add brain damage from over two decades of alcohol abuse...

Papi's life has been so severely rough. He doesn't really know any other way. Even his siblings can't possibly understand the type of life he's had to go through. And despite his verbal abuse and self harm even outside of alcoholism, finding Mami and becoming a dad really really changed him. He became so so so kind, in stark contrast to his later abuses toward me and my siblings and Mami and the family dog.

He's always been generous and just so cheerful to have his family around him. He adores us and his expression shows it like a damn angelic beacon cutting through pitch black darkness. His family means EVERYTHING to him! I truly believe that his family means more than God to him, not that he'd ever "blaspheme" that way, but I genuinely don't think he recognizes it as he was raised Christian.

He fights every single day of his life and has been fighting since elementary school nonstop, and for his family he fights ten times as hard. He has to keep busy or the thoughts catch up. He has to be protected for the sake of being able to protect his family. That stabbing should have put him in the hospital for six weeks at least. He was determined to get out quickly and did so in six DAYS. The number of times he's narrowly escaped death I think he's actually friends with the grim reaper.

I love my Papi. I still get mad about the ways he let his own hurt then go and hurt the rest of us, but he's dedicated his entire life to protecting us all. The ups have been so spectacular and the downs have been critically horrible, and I think overall everything good about him far outweighs everything bad, though he thinks he wouldn't deserve even that much.

He used to say as long as he does get to heaven he wouldn't care of he was living in a cardboard box on the street. He just wants to be happy and he fights terrible battles to make it so. His family makes him happy, knowing he's loved despite his self image makes him happy. Just existing alongside the people he loves makes him so incredibly happy. He believes his loved ones will all be in heaven and that's the only reason he wants to be on heaven too, an eternity with us all.

I made myself cry :( I love him so much 💖

[hismercytomyjustice]

Omfggg I cannot believe my little BG3 fic is about to hit 70 subscribers!!! (*꒦ິ꒳꒦ີ)

It is wonderful and terrifying all at the same time haha!!! It’s also weirdly humbling knowing almost 70 people trust me and this story enough to want updates as it’s posted???

Thank fuck I’ve written most of it already because otherwise I would be STRESSING TF OUT.

I crossed the 75k word threshold the other day. The 75k maximum I thought I would probably hit seeing as I’ve never written much over like 50k before and that was only once in the fanfic world and 3x in the “this will likely never see the light of day” original work world haha.

PLEASE TELL ME HOW THE FUCK I STILL FOUR FULL CHAPTERS LEFT TO WRITE.

In the event you clicked to see more, just know you’re about to see a lot of rambling of mental health and writing.

I’m winding down chapter 14 now and chapter 18 is at least 50-75% done after I skipped to it in a panic due to the massive writers block I hit in 13 over hardcore stressing over my characterization of Cazador. Just “he is not being horrible enough, he needs to be more horrible, but not too horrible or this fic will need to be even longer and I’m already wildly out of my word count comfort zone” lol.

So that leaves the tail end of 14 and 18, and then I just have to write 15, 16, and 17.

Oh thank fuck. It’s only three I thought it was four full length ones left. Oh god. This simultaneously brings me relief and anxiety lmaooo.

Oh god.

But this fic is going to have such a special place in my heart because writing it has reminded me THAT I LOVE WRITING.

I’ve barely written in the last decade for a variety of reasons and tbh until I started writing this fic, I was starting to wonder if I really even enjoyed writing and wanted to do it anymore.

Not because I didn’t, but because the level of passion I used to have for it seemed to just be…missing? I kept thinking “it’s so weird how writing used to be such a huge part of my life and now I never seem to be able to do it or want to do it”.

I’ve come to realize in the last month or so, the biggest culprit was my previously semi-diagnosed OCD. Second biggest may have been my definitely undiagnosed ADHD.

Any time I’d try to sit down to plot or draft or anything I would get into OCD spirals and either completely talk myself out of it or get into it for a little bit and then hit a roadblock in the story I couldn’t get past or convince myself what I wrote was awful and no one would ever want to read it because I would get bored writing it so why the hell would anyone want to read it? So then I’d convince myself I needed to read up on the craft of writing to make up for my deficiencies. And the more I learned the more I realized I didn’t know or the more deficiencies I saw and the more I’d get into my own head.

I spent some much time kind of wishing I hadn’t read so many books, went to so many convention panels, listened to so many podcasts about writing, etc. Because any time I looked at a blank page, I couldn’t get out of my own head enough to fucking WRITE.

Just an endless stream of: The first line is super important and has to hook the reader, make sure you start in the middle of the story, your protagonist should have xyz, your villain should have abc, every sentence should do more than one thing, if you don’t regularly make time to write you’re not a real writer, all these other people make time to write and their lives are way busier than yours so what’s wrong with you, you must hate writing otherwise you’d actually do it, you’ll never get anything published because you lack discipline, etc etc etc.

I just desperately wanted to go back to the days where I could just flip open a blank notebook and go to town without giving a shit about what anyone else thought a story had to be and without second guessing every single letter I put on the page.

And then such a weird combo of stars aligned that finally made me remember why I fucking love writing and why I do it in the first place???

Consuming media that makes me passionate about storytelling and reawakens my creative drive.

My friend offhandedly mentioning she writes on her phone sometimes and isn’t a phone kind of like a little notebook you can carry around and whip out whenever? Bonus, you don’t have to retype everything after writing by hand!

Getting officially officially diagnosed with OCD. Third therapist’s is a charm amirite? If I had a nickel for every therapist who told me I was exhibiting signs of OCD I’d have three nickels… I didn’t even go to my current therapist for OCD. My former therapist suggested finding a specialist in exposure therapy to help with an unrelated phobia (I will not go into on here and probably never will because it’s deeply personal) and the specialist I found happens to specialize in OCD because exposure therapy is often used to treat it.

And my current therapist taught me what OCD thought spirals are, how they start up, how they take root, how they get out of control. Suddenly it wasn’t just “oh, I have anxiety so I need to use decision techniques to combat it” it was “ohhh this is therapy designed with my brain in mind and my brain isn’t as weird or scary as I thought.” It’s just wild to spend decades of your life thinking your brain is fucked up and you don’t understand what’s wrong with it so how could anyone but then you get a literal fucking worksheet that maps out an example spiral with a note on it that reads “this you?”.

Specifically, she taught me about Inference-based Cognitive Behavioral Therapy (ICBT). If anyone reads this and is curious about ICBT. this article does a pretty good job of explaining it.

It was just wild to look at this piece of paper that was like “oh, no, this is a regular/common enough brain thing that we’ve done research on it and made a fun little worksheet for it” that makes it all feel so weirdly mundane and less scary as a result? Like decades of “I’m scared of my own brain” turned into “your brain isn’t scary, there’s a clear pattern to this kind of thing and lots of people go through it”.

And then I decided to take piano lessons. Because I started writing a POTO AU before I started my BG3 fic and I remembered how much I loved music in the same way. How much I enjoy the violin but struggle to get myself to play now that I’m not part of an ensemble. And that was another thing I haven’t found much joy in lately either.

And my OCD went off the fucking RAILS with that. Because of all my insecurities around being someone who always struggled to practice regularly and realizing how much of a refresher I needed on music in general after so much time away. Leaving lessons wanting to cry because of how fucking stupid an inept I felt and being utterly convinced I was wasting my teacher’s time.

BUT. Because of ICBT and my therapist, I could see I was hardcore OCD spiraling. It marginally helped because at least part of me was like “okay, these feelings aren’t the truth and they are irrational” even as I still struggled to find any actual self-compassion over it all. Because why the fuck is wrong with me it’s piano, I am paying for lessons, I do not have to be perfect. My therapist insisted my only obligation was to just show up for the lessons and SHE IS RIGHT. Like, yeah, it’s great to practice and I want to get better at it, but OCD-ing myself to the point I’m fucking miserable and never practice (much like I did with writing) is not the answer.

Piano made me realize my OCD impacts my day-to-day life in a variety. Not just my 10/10 OCD spirals/fears.

Do I still struggle with how fucking ridiculous getting worked up over voluntarily taking piano lessons made me feel? 10000%. Am I actually enjoying and looking forward to my lessons and actually practicing because I want to instead of feeling paralyzed or over analyzing or avoiding or forcing myself to? Also 10000% true!!! It’s fucking wild how much you can enjoy things you like when your OCD SHUTS THE FUCK UP FOR FIVE GODDAMN SECONDS.

Like obvs I still have a lot of work to do on the OCD front, but I’ve made so much fucking progress over the past few months. It feels like night and day sometimes. If you’d told me like 6 months ago I’d have written 75k on one fanfic in addition more on others, I would have laughed on your face and then doom spiraled about it.

God I have missed actually ENJOYING things. My therapist was not exaggerating when she talked about me having a breakthrough last session about overcompensating and how it negatively has impacted myself and my fledgling self-compassion.

It feels so fucking GOOD.

Navigating OCD and ADHD, especially as a late diagnosed person isn’t easy. I’m still learning so much and also puzzling out what does and doesn’t work for me. But for the first time in such a long time, I feel like I’m actually making progress on those fronts and it is such a fucking relief after borderline hating myself for years now.

This got wildly out of hand, but OH WELL. I’m just so fucking happy and relieved to be seeing some progress for myself that I was starting to worry might never fucking happen.

[psychicdronefemale-ocd]

A message for future psychicdronefemale from April 14, 2023

today i had an appointment w psychologist, i did my little pre-meeting tests and scored pretty low for depression, anxiety, and even OCD. i've been feeling pretty good and struggling minimally with anxiety, panic attacks, intrusive thoughts, and depression, for quite a few weeks in a row. not sure how many, but i'm feeling very much like myself. i had a scary and uncomfortable few months, but i've learned a lot and i know i can get through these times.

i'm feeling greatful that i found sam when i did. i wish it happened sooner, but it took a while to figure out how to reach out to the right person/resource. i'm resentful of the counsellors i talked to in the past that didn't know how to understand or identify OCD, but the important thing is that i eventually found someone who did, and eventually got given a lot more resources for dealing with these problems.

the intrusive thoughts still happen, but they are waaay less distressing and spiral-inducing. they also generally happen much less. the methods work, i think! i also have a folder of resources related to OCD, and may try imaginal exposures in the future if things get more pervasive again. and i also can email psych any time if i need to reach out.

i'm still a little worried that this blast of horrible mental health was induced by a chemical imbalance of some sort, related to hypOthyroidism or SAD or a combo of both. but i now have more tools than before, and i believe i can navigate a bout of bad thoughts/depression/etc more easily in the future.

i think a lifelong struggle for me is not trying to avoid uncomfortable feelings. i think that a big element of the OCD and/or why it hit so hard is because i try to squirm my way out of every uncomfortable feeling with logic/thinking/etc. i think that im really bad at just feeling and accepting negative feelings. i think when they hit, they hit hard. and i think that the mental gymnastics of trying to think myself out of discomfort can contribute to the discomfort. if i can accept negative feelings, some of them will just be experienced and pass, rather than become a chronic worry. i don't need to trace back every negative thought/feeling to its source.

[alwaysinlimbo]

April 22nd, 2024

I have a couple things I feel the need to write about today. It's been a long and strange day honestly.

I stared listening to A Fine Frenzy again for the first time in a while. It got me thinking about my late middle school early high school days. Those days were difficult in their own ways but I miss how somewhat fearlessly I approached them. I was brave when I wanted to be.

I thought to myself "huh, maybe I'll start dressing a little twee inspired again just to bring inner kid me some joy." I feel like that era of myself was the last time I felt truly sure about myself and authentic. I miss that feeling.

Little me was just a kid trying to deal with trauma. Somedays I think about her and I want to cry. I want to sit with her and brush her hair, tell her that everything is going to be okay and work out exactly how it's supposed to. I want to tell her that hey, it's okay that she made some dumb mistakes. She once told everyone she knew fluent Swedish, and it was a complete lie, but she was trying to hard to be liked because it was so difficult to exist at the time. Her friends called her boring because she was so quiet. So she came up with little lies to make her more interesting.

Not to say that was right or anything, it was definitely a dumb thing to do, but in reality how many teenagers do that. I know plenty who did and it didn't cause any great deal of harm.

I had another realization today. When I was younger I had this idea drilled into my head that if you had nothing to hide than you didn't need privacy. My mother ready my diary once. I brushed it off because I though oh it doesn't matter if I don't have anything to hide. In reality, I didn't want to make her think I had something to hide, because then she wouldn't trust me. In reality, she broke my trust and disrespected my privacy. I wish I had realized that sooner, as it probably would've helped me in many other situations.

privacy is something everyone has a right to. It doesn't mean you're doing anything bad, or that you're keeping secrets from people. It means that sometimes you have things that you prefer to keep to yourself and THAT'S OKAY.

-------** if you're not a fan of talk of body image issues I'll ask you not to proceed**------

I also have some thoughts on body image that I think I need to write about. It's been on my mind for such a long time and maybe journaling will help that.

I've never had such trouble with body image...but maybe that's because I was always small and horribly thin...I was always "the little one" growing up. Then all of a sudden I was called "curvier" than my sister. Then, my mother started being more vocal about criticizing her body and those of others. Then I got diagnosed with IBS and PMDD and began experiencing chronic pain and bloating. And suddenly here I am, sitting in a random college building at 8:03pm on a Monday night, bloated and feeling horrible about my body and wanting to go home and crawl into my bed and never come back out.

it's very dramatic I know, sometimes my silly brain decides to have a flare for the dramatics. I promise though, I was never a theatre kid.

Last night in my dream, an old school mate of mine told me I had "put on some weight." I woke up feeling very weird. My OCD likes to tell me that I have a binge eating disorder and it's only a matter of time before I become horribly unhealthy.

My logical brain tries to tell me otherwise though. I often have to tell myself " you have a chronic, incurable digestive disorder and are also a woman with organs that need to be protected. it's okay that your tummy isn't perfectly flat."

Your thoughts create your reality. Last night I read the part in Dodie's book about skin picking, something I also struggle with, and I came across the quote:

"If you tell the world you're beautiful, it will believe you, and then you'll start believing it too."

And I plan to write that on every mirror in my room. I want to engrave it on my brain, inside my eyelids, stare at it all hours of the day until my stubborn brain is able to accept it. I want to live my life in this way. I just desire to be a person who exudes light. I want to exude love. I have grown up in fight or flight mode and I am tired. I am tired of feeling like no matter what I do, I will be the villain. I constantly feel as though I am somehow inherently evil.

I am not, and I never have been. I have just spoken up for myself and set boundaries over the years, and sometimes people do not like that. And when they especially don't like that, they make you out to be the villain. You will never be the protagonist in everyones book.

Those are my thoughts for the night. I'll do a separate post about some body image prompts. I enjoy journalling prompts, but this post is becoming quite long. purely organizational. Good night <3

[bugbbear]

i have ocd

its not about cleanliness. its about intrusive thoughts.

REAL intrusive thoughts. not the impulsive thoughts yall tend to think are intrusive.

not 'omg what if i didnt do my homework tonight' or 'what if i bought this thing online'

more like 'hey youre emptying the dishwasher right now. youre holding a knife. you could stab your dog. stab your dog. stab your dog.' and then you put the knife as far away from you as possible because FUCK no im not doing that.

its seeing someone in a minority and having every slur you know bounce around your brain, and then imagining knives and nails stabbing into your skull to get rid of them.

its knowing how many microbes you are exchanging with someone when you kiss them and knowing every disease they can cause, and wanting to drink handsanitizer because of it.

lots of people with OCD spend their lives believing they are horrible monsters because of the intrusive thoughts they have.

intrusive thoughts are not you. they dont define you. they are not who you are

it took me a long time to separate that out

ocd can be about cleanliness. physical, moral, etc. but overall its about fighting.

its about fighting constantly against yourself, fighting to prove that you are good despite it all. clean despite it all. that you arent a sum of the horrible thoughts in your head.

you're the dragon and the knight, and neither of you will ever win, and thats ok. the dragon is stuck in its cave. the knight can walk away.

sorry if this is derailing. apparently i had things to say

neurotypicals: ugh I'm so ocd!!

neurotypicals when they actually meet someone with ocd: ...but, why aren't you clean asf??

OCD is literally a disorder that besides the obvious things (obsessions and compulsions), is marked by low levels of serotonin and a lot of us have either depressive episodes or depression. being "clean" or "tidy" isn't what OCD is all about (this doesn't mean that people with ocd whose obsessions are about germs aren't valid, they are, absolutely). stop spreading the fucking stereotypes, disorders isn't something you wanna mess around with

[mental-health-advice]

submission about being inpatient

So I feel chronically suicidal, I get assignments to do and I do them a lot more lately, I feel like no one likes me, and I don't like myself. I am in hospital, and I feel really scared that people are going to kill me. I have to do this thing where I put a fist in the air for revolution, and it can be fun but it makes people around me stare at me. I don't want to shower lately, and I look like I'm homeless a little bit. I find my Mum arrogant, and I had fantasies about putting her in a psychiatric facility to pay her back. I punched someones hands and cursed her. I guess I believe in curses. I had OCD and still do... I thought that my parents were going to die and I thought it was my fault. I miss my puppy and I abused him. I want mental health help but I don't want medication. I'm really sick from the medication and it's making me like a zombie. I have Functional Nuerological Disorder and I think it's because of the medication. I keep obsessing over when I get to stop taking it. I met this woman who said you can never get out of psychiatry, which is my biggest fear. I have a psychologist and he is good. I just wish I could see him more often. I skipped school and I didn't finish high school or university. I'm 31 and I'm infertile from the medication. I smoke a lot of cigarettes. I am overweight and I really look bad. I wanted to be a revolutionary and it involves embarassing myself.

Hey there,

Wow, it certainly sounds as though you are going through quite a lot right now. I am so sorry to hear that you are in hospital currently but maybe it’s the best place for you to be right now and especially as you are feeling chronically suicidal. In hospital you are also able to receive support and help 24/7 and at times this can come in handy and especially if you are having a really bad or horrible day.

I do not think it was right for that woman to make that comment that once you are in psychiatry you can never get out. I know of plenty of people who have been really bad mental health wise but then made an amazing recovery where yes, they may still see a psychologist once every few months but have been able to come off medication and are now doing really well.

I know that being on medication can be really hard and scary and especially with some of the side effects, but I encourage you to speak to your prescribing doctor about these fears you have and wanting to come off them. I am not in anyway suggesting that they will say you can come off medication but they may be able to tweak dosages a bit or change your medication to something else which is a bit more bearable for you. Definitely worth a conversation to have when you are feeling up to it don’t you think?

In terms of not liking yourself, with time this can also change. It doesn’t matter what you look like, your weight, you are perfect just as you are and once you start to feel a bit better mental health wise maybe you could talk to your psychologist about improving your self-esteem and self-image if this is something you are wanting to focus on in your recovery. I know this won’t be easy to do though, I am still struggling with that myself greatly, but with baby steps and slowly chipping away at things I know you will get there, as will I in time! You are not alone!

I really hope that this has helped a bit and please do let us know if we can help to support you in any other way!

I’m thinking of you and hope you are doing OK!

Take care,

Lauren               

[rawstfish]

Bale Head-canons

I wanted to talk about Bale :)

Warnings: Talks about bad mental health/mentions of homophobia

Grew up on a farm in a rural southern part of Russia. He started helping around since he could walk (The farm grows wheat/potatoes/beets and raises pigs/chickens) 

He loved to scare the chickens and the pigs…He also loved to threaten to eat them. He hated the chickens because they would always peck him, and then the rooster would attack him. The pigs were fine but they were Minotaur’s favorites so he had to mess with them.

He loved the crops with all his heart. They were quiet and didn’t ask for much. He would talk to them because he’s a firm believer that they grow better/bigger if you do.  

A daddy’s boy, like as a kid he wanted to be around his dad every chance he got. He also just had a deep admiration for him since his dad was in the military and the reason for all the cool hunting trophies around the house. 

Speaking of hunting, his dad would take him and Minotaur on hunting/ice fishing trips. Bale liked hunting a lot more, ice fishing was just too cold. They hunted deer but bale always wanted to get bear, however, his dad would say he wasn’t ready. (Don’t worry Bale eventually got a bear in his teenage years)

Has undiagnosed OCD, not the hehehe I’m such a neat freak OCD either. No, he has “I must open this door 3 times or I’m going to die” and “I can’t walk on that road because there’s cracks and it’s made horrible”. His parents also assumed he was a little weird. 

Had a boy best friend that he had the biggest crush on but didn’t realize. He would ask Minotaur if it was normal to want to kiss your best friend. The problem is Mino is really affectionate and would be like, “Yeah totally! 😊😊😊” 

Did wrestling with Mino in his highschool years. He thought it was fun and all…it's just he couldn’t actually hurt anybody. He got kicked off the team after seriously hurting a dude, like he broke his bones. (Dad was proud though) 

Smart kid though, he always had A’s and high B’s. He could have graduated high school early but he chose not to, but he did immediately go into college when he did graduate.

He went to a college in Moscow and mainly studied for the forest industry.

I think he had a horrible problem with wanting to make his dad proud. He would have breakdowns over the littlest things if he thought his dad didn’t wouldn’t approve of them. Sadly, he had a horrible breakdown when he found out he was bisexual. (He found out the most stupidest way possible btw…like a gay porn ad popped up and he couldn’t look away) 

He was also close to graduating too but ending up dropping out. Like he had one more year and he would have gotten his bachelor’s degree. He went back home and played it off by saying everyone was on break right now. (He did eventually tell the truth…he just didn’t want to. This did cause a huge/terrible fight with his parents)

Age 20 was one of the worst years of Bale’s life. He was a huge alcoholic and spent most of his time in bars fighting. He started a name for himself by doing this, like people started to bet on fights. This worried his family deeply.

Mino had his back though and tried everything he could to help him, but Bale’s a tough cookie to deal with even for him. Bale did open up though and told Minotaur what happened at college. Mino gave/still gives Bale his full support. 

This happened during late winter through early summer. During late summer he was doing much better. (Thx Mino)

He decided he didn’t want to try college again, he had enough education. He also knew he didn’t want to go into the forest industry anymore or have a service worker job either. He landed on the idea that the military would be best for him…Don’t worry he isn’t trying to impress his dad by doing this. (Maybe a lil BUT that isn’t his main concern)

He decided this because he could finally get paid beating the fuck out of people and get to work with/learn about guns. Minotaur joined with him because he was worried about what would happen to him. (hehehehe I say this bc Bale gets blown up >:))

So skip a couple years to the Second Chechen War after Bale got blown up, he hated being in the hospital. He didn’t like sitting on his ass and healing, he felt weak and useless. Don’t even get him started on the food, that was the worst part.

His OCD also got worse after the incident. For example, now He has to check the whole room when he enters and leaves. If he doesn’t do this he will panic and feel like shit for the rest of the day. It’s also worse because now he has PTSD  

Stealing @modernghostfare headcanon, I love to think when he was healing he was playing World of Warcraft. He loves trash MMOrpg’s.

He also loves American reality TV shows. His favorite is Keeping up the Kardashian, he hates them but he can’t stop watching them.

He always gets a magazine from the gas station or anywhere in fact. The gas stations just have the best ones.

Jealous of Mino but he would never tell him that. He doesn’t get how he can be so positive/care-free most of the time, and on top of that be so charismatic.             

Although he’s Russian, he can’t stand the cold. He much rather be at the beach with his toes in the sand. He does like cozying up though, so he’ll deal with the cold for now.

When he’s on leave, he stays at Mino’s house. Bale has his own little apartment at the base, but he can’t sleep well there at all. He’s used to having to sleep through loud noises, and Mino’s house feels like home so much. (He’s also worried something might happen)

He also loves Mino kids, he’s like the grumpy uncle but also the one letting you do whatever you want.

Minotaur is the only person to see Bale cry.

He has a great sense of smell but enjoys the weird scents. Like he has a candle that’s scent is hotel lobby

He loves hot sauce, he puts that shit on everything he eats. Your cooking sucks? Don’t worry Bale brought a whole bottle of hot sauce so he can’t tell.

Has a weird relationship with Rodion and Nikto. Like they’re not boyfriends but they are. But they’re all sucking each other's dick.

That brings me to how I think bale would love to be open about his sexuality but he lives in Russia. Oh, he’s male leaning by the way. (Also he told his parents right before he left for the military…like he was in the car waving goodbye and was like “I’m Bi” and than left)

He's fat. He has abs they're just hidden under a couple layers of fat. Big boy likes to eat

[super-unpredictable98]

Exposure Therapy (The Road Within AU)

Chapter 2: Not So Normal

Warning: Strong language, depiction of mental illness (including tics), mention of death and disordered eating.

(Exposure Therapy Masterlist)

"FUCKING CUNT WHORE!" Vincent's shout made me go from half asleep to very much awake.

"Good morning to you too," I joked as I came down the stairs.

"Hey, Ramona," he twitched violently spluttered while drinking some juice. By now I was so used to the twitching and the spasms that I barely noticed them at all.

The last couple of days I've been trying to gather the courage to ask him to use my nickname. My full name reminds me of my mom, but I didn't wanna seem nasty.

"You can call me Mona, I'm not a huge fan of my name."

"Alright, Mona, are you hungry?"

"Not really, this fucking medication," I nearly gagged just thinking about it. "It makes me feel sick all day, plus my antidepressant has tiny little spheres inside the capsule and every time I swallow I hear this horrible rattling noise in my throat that just makes me... Argh! I'll eat at dinner."

"Dinner?" Vince furrowed his brows as he pushed his chin up with the heel of his hand.

"Apparently this OCD pill is also a good appetite suppressant. I gained some weight after... Some stuff happened back home."

"Oh, no, that can't be good, you should talk to Dr. Rose about it... Not eating isn't good for you, believe me," his expression darkened completely. I'm not usually the best at reading people's faces, but even I saw that change.

"I will, I'm just trying to gather the nerve to talk on the phone."

"You don't talk on the phone?"

"Not really, when I used to sing I could use the excuse that I couldn't strain my voice, but now I just have to admit it's because of my anxiety."

"I could help you if you want, I could call and then you explain to her," he shut his eyes abruptly. "Fuck off, weird cunt- I'm sorry..."

I knew he didn't mean it, but part of me started to think that maybe that's how he felt. Everyone else certainly did.

He was very nice, but he probably thought I was crazy and who could blame him? I did just say that the rattling of my medication in my throat makes me lose my mind.

"Where's Alex?" I tried to push those thoughts away.

"He went grocery shopping, he doesn't trust me to do it. He likes to check the expiration date himself and make sure every container is in pristine condition."

"I understand his worries, I need to check the date at least twice before eating, but you seem pretty trustworthy."

"Thanks," Vince chuckled. "Are you sure you don't wanna eat anything? Do you like eggs?"

"Only scrambled, I tolerate cheese or onions, never both."

"I guess it's your lucky day," he lowered his eyes to the half-eaten scrambled eggs with cheese on the plate. "I don't mind sharing."

I tried to fight a grin as Vincent handed me his fork. Usually I don't do this, I don't eat with someone else's fork or drink from someone else's cup. This sounds absolutely disgusting and it would send me into a terrible anxiety attack, but not this time.

It felt like an act of intimacy when I took a bite, that piece of metal had touched his lips, his beautiful, plump... NO! Why do I do this to myself?

Fuck, I hate being the way I am, someone gives me the slightest bit of attention and I'm already head over heels! But it did feel pretty good to use his fork, maybe I should face that as a behavioral exercise instead, I'm confronting my germophobia.

"Did you like it?" Vincent asked before making a pop noise with his palm against his mouth.

I simply hummed in response, not realizing that the fork was still in my mouth, resting on my tongue. He nodded in encouragement with a smile.

"Do you want some more?"

"Oh!" I pulled the fork out. "Yeah, I guess..."

I took another bite and tried to fight that nausea the medication was causing, that moment was too good to be ruined. Even if it was only happening in my head.

"Great, just a little bit more, baby steps."

——————————————————

"Or even worse he could be very nice, have lovely eyes, and make me laugh, come out of hiding. What do I do with that? Oh, God, what if when he sees me I like him and he knows it? What if he opens up a door and I can't close it? What happens then? If when he holds me, my heart is set in motion-"

"That is so pretty," Vincent stood by the door as I played the ukelele.

"Oh, shit!" I almost had a heart attack when I realized he's been listening. "Thanks."

"Sorry, I didn't wanna scare you, I just finished my online school stuff and I heard you singing..."

"It's alright," I shook my head, avoiding looking into his eyes.

"What's the name of that FUCK song?"

"It's When He Sees Me, from Waitress."

"Can you continue?"

Very hesitantly I got my ukelele back in position and restarted from where I stopped. I was beyond embarrassed, but I didn't want him to think I stopped because of him or because I was singing about him, or because I don't know the rest.

"If when he holds me, my heart is set in motion. I'm not prepared for that, I'm scared of breaking open, but still I can't help from hoping to find someone to talk to... Who likes the way I am. Someone who when he sees me, wants to again."

"That was beautiful, Mona," I couldn't tell if he was being honest or if he was mocking me.

"Thank you," I chose to believe he was being honest, even though if he wasn't I would end up looking stupid.

"I wanted to ask..." he started ticking more violently. "Would you wanna- cunt, go to the beach with me?"

My eyes probably grew wide trying to process the question. Vincent was traditionally attractive, yeah, he was probably insecure about his tics, but he could get any girl he wanted, why would he be asking me?

UNLESS... He was asking me as a friend and I'm being stupid again. Damn it, I had to answer quickly before he realizes I thought it was a date, before he gives up, before he thinks I hate him!

"Yes," I nearly whispered.

"C-cool, why don't you get ready and meet me downstairs?"

"Sure," I grimaced, already regretting accepting the invitation.

I'm pale as can be, so the sun would probably burn me. I can't swim, so that would be awkward. Beaches are disgusting, all that sand sticking to my skin... Not to mention how the sea is filthy and basically filled with disease.

Of course there was also the issue of the swimsuit... My mom had bought me a couple of new ones, since the old ones don't fit anymore. They were all one-piece, all black, one with little stars and moons and the other with small aliens. She said Black is slimming.

I grabbed a beach dress, a towel, and my sunscreen. It was almost five, so the sun was not that dangerous anymore, but I would probably need to reapply anyway. So I went downstairs and Vince was anxiously waiting by the door.

"Are you ready?" he smiled.

"Where are you two going?" Alex came in holding two huge bags of groceries.

"To the beach," I muttered.

"Oh," he seemed surprised? Admired? Upset? I wasn't sure. "Have fun then."

——————————————————

"Is this spot good for you?" Vincent asked.

"Yeah, it's fine."

It wasn't fine, it was a bit too close to the water and if we stayed long enough the tide would get to us and I would have an anxiety attack, but I wasn't gonna tell him that. The whole point of this exposure therapy was to make me uncomfortable, so I could get comfortable in the future, right?

I sat down on the blanket he brought, he quickly joined me while a particularly bad string of tics took over him.

"CUNT CUNT FUCK!" Some people around us were staring, but I didn't really mind.

"Looks like these assholes have never seen a person with Tourette's before."

"They probably haven't," he laughed. "It's not that common."

"Well, fuck them for staring," I felt truly bad that this is what he has to go through every time he goes out in public.

"Yeah, but you have anxiety and I just..."

"I don't care about that, I used to do theater, I'm used to being watched."

"Used to? Why don't you do it anymore?" he was finally starting to calm down.

"My grandpa died, he was an actor. He was the only father figure I ever had. Now that he's gone it doesn't feel right being on stage anymore and I ended up getting fat anyway, so it doesn't really matter."

"Ha, landwhale," he squealed. "Sorry."

"It's fine," I tugged at the sleeves of my dress to cover my arms a bit more and folded them in front of my stomach. It was just a tic, but somehow that one really hurt.

"That wasn't a tic!" he shouted and covered his mouth immediately, mortified. "Yes it was, it was a tic!"

"Did you just tic saying that wasn't a tic?"

"Yeah, that's a dangerous one... I'm so sorry."

"Don't worry, Vincent."

"No, I really am, I-"

"You didn't mean it," I covered my eyes before any tears could come out, I didn't want to make him feel bad about it.

"Yeah," he frowned. "I get how you feel, you know? My mom died a couple of years ago, she was my best friend. It sucks, I know, but don't you think your grandpa would be proud of seeing you carrying his legacy or something?"

"Maybe," I cursed the second I said yes to that stupid beach date. "But I need to find the strength to step on stage without crying first."

"You know, I really am sorry about what I said."

"Why are you still talking about it?"

"I can see you got upset," I looked at him, his curls danced in the wind, covering his eyes a little bit, he looked more beautiful than ever.

"Nah, I'm fine," I looked the other way once again.

"Hey," Vince brought my gaze back to him with his hand on my cheek. "I didn't mean it."

"I know, trust me, I know..."

"You're beautiful, Mona! Don't ever think that you need to be a certain size to look good, that is a deadly path."

"You're saying that because you're worried I'll go down the same road as Marie?"

"Well, it's really painful to watch someone you like going through that..."

"Do you still like her?"

"FUCKING BITCH," he screamed and whistled right after. "As a friend, but just that."

"I'm sorry for asking, I probably shouldn't."

"It's fine," he stared into the horizon. "She needs someone who can take care of her, I can't do that. I can take care of a girl like a normal boyfriend would, but I can't have the responsibility of her entire life on my back. She is a nice person, but can be very toxic sometimes, it's like she doesn't want people to love her."

"Why did you say yes to Dr. Rose if you don't wanna care for people?" I don't think I've ever felt so inadequate in my entire life. If that was a date, that was probably the worst first date in history... But it wasn't.

"You don't need to be taken care of, you just need someone who listens to you and is willing to understand the way you feel."

"But earlier-"

"Earlier you were having a hard time, but when I handed you the fork, you didn't fight it. I didn't have to insist for you to eat or else you might die. I know you think you're an inconvenience to us, but you're not," contradicting his words, he flipped me off, but I just laughed.

"I just have this constant feeling that even though people might like me, they would like me more if I was different, neurotypical."

"Do you like me?"

"Yeah," I admitted before my brain could stop me.

"Would you like me more if I didn't tic?" he raised his eyebrows.

"No, of course not," I scoffed, what sort of question was that?

"There's your answer," he shrugged. "Do you wanna go for a swim?"

"I can't swim."

"That's fine, we'll stay in the shallow, and if you're scared I'll hold your hand. If anything happens, I'll pull you back."

"Don't you think the sea is a little too dirty?" I chuckled.

"I don't know, but what I do know is that ever since I moved here I've been in there hundreds of times and nothing bad ever happened. You can always shower when you get home," Vincent ripped his shirt off and offered me his hand. "Wanna give it a try?"

I didn't wanna go in, I didn't wanna take my dress off, but I did wanna hold his hand and he did look very nice with his shirt off.

Sometimes, there are these wonderful moments in which your desire to do something is stronger than your fear. Like that one time when someone got sick at the stage door of the Winter Garden Theater, but I really wanted an autograph from Leslie Kritzner on my Playbill.

Those are the moments when you realize your real strength, when you finally realize you can and you will take that opportunity to be happy. I timidly shed my dress and took his hand. The surprised (or was it admired?) look he gave me was probably the best part, I don't think he expected it to work.

"If anything happens to me, I'll haunt you forever," I joked.

"You have my permission, but I think the worst that can happen is you having a great time."

I honestly couldn't believe that was my life. I was actually running towards the sea under the beautiful pink-orange sunset in California, holding hands with this cute guy (given he didn't like me that way, it's still nice to dream), and I didn't even need Lexotan for this one.

As soon as my feet touched the water, I thought I was gonna gag, but I felt great.

"See? Alive and well," Vincent smacked his own chest a few times. "How do you feel?"

"Alive and well!" I shouted.

"Isn't it amazing?"

"Yes!"

Every time the waves hit my legs, I felt like I was gonna fall, but I never did. Most of the things in my life were like this, a little voice in my head always telling me what would go wrong, but none of those things ever actually happened. It was just a voice, no face, no power, no nothing.

My fantasy was broken, though, when I tripped over an unexpected bump in the sand. Hearing my desperate yelp, Vincent placed his other hand on my back to stabilize me, holding me firmly.

We stared at each other for a little while, my heart was about to jump out my mouth and I had to look away, but just as my eyes found something else to stare at, he leaned in and pressed his lips to mine.

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