#i also took quite a bit of anxiety medication which is how i decided posting it was even a good idea | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

yanderechuu · 3 years

Note

Omega, definitely omega (‘∀’●)♡

Do you have any idea how many people wrote (aged-up ofc) Izuku breeding fics it's almost it's own genre at this point.

Also, personally I can't read sub reader stuff. I know this blog isn't a dom reader blog but yeah, omega Izuku made me read one of the posts

¯\_(๑❛ᴗ❛๑)_/¯

[1.2K]

refer to this post for better understanding.

if breeding is a way for yandere aged-up characters to tie their darling down then it’s definitely scenting for the underaged characters.

│

Omega!Izuku’s omega genes become more apparent after receiving OFA, which therefore makes him appealing to a lot of alphas, but he doesn’t want any of them – he wants pretty little half-omega-half-alpha you.

I could very well picture him getting ideas with scenting you so others would get the hint that you were taken, the entire ordeal starting off when you had asked Izuku if he would be able to meet you in your dorm room for the continuation of your little study session with him. He had offered it in the first place, and you’d been struggling with Heroics, so you didn’t find a reason not to accept his invitation. In return, you’d review him with Foreign Languages - the subject he’d been having a hassle with.

He didn’t ask to postpone the study session when he realized his heat was nearing, didn’t take medication before going to your dorm, where you welcomed him with the casual smile he often found himself melting at. Upon entering, the lovely whiff of your scent hit him drastically. It was evident that you had tried your best to mask it because you knew you’d be inviting someone over, and allowing your scent to spread around while a visitor was present was kind of audacious. He didn’t mind it, though - in fact, he’d love if you didn’t hide it. Your room was comforting, finely ventilated, and safety-ensuring; he wouldn’t mind basking in your scent that lingered everywhere in the open space of your bedroom.

And then there was your bed - fresh sheets and carefully aligned pillows, not quite cozy in his opinion as an omega. It was so uncomfortably organized. That was why he decided to settle there and crumple the blanket instead of sitting with you on the ground by the quaint coffee table. He offered you his notes and you offered him yours, and at length, you both immersed yourselves in reviewing, occasionally asking each other the things you didn’t quite understand about the lesson. In a while of reading the notes you came to notice he was a bit antsy, and though he was trying his best to hide his discomfort, you figured it was best to voice it out before he’d explode into a flurry of anxiety.

“Something wrong?” You asked, seeing him visibly tense at your query.

“I am, uh,” He stammered, avoiding your gaze, “nearing my heat…”

“Oh.” Was all you could say. You wouldn’t shame him for it, as it was a natural occurrence, but with your being partly an alpha, this was kind of an awkward and risky circumstance. “Did- did you take your pills?”

“No, but it’s fine. I can handle it.”

You weren’t buying it. Now that you knew his cycle was nearing, he probably wanted to be in the relief of his own nest, so you took it upon yourself to decide for him. Perhaps he was just too shy to say it. “You can return to your dorm room, you know. I’m sorry for insisting having you to tutor me-“

“No!” He exclaimed, wide-eyed, startling you. “Don’t say that! I... I was really looking forward to tutoring you. I don’t mind at all, it’s just that we scheduled at the worst time. But don’t worry! I can really manage.”

You smiled bashfully at his admission; his heart missed a beat upon seeing you. “Get comfortable on my bed, then. I don’t mind you messing it up; think of it as gratitude for tutoring me even though you’re struggling.”

How could he refuse the offer? He got to lie on your bed, scent it all the while he was in heat, and you wouldn’t even complain since you were the one who offered to him in the first place.

That was how you ended up resuming your study session, with him all wrapped up in your blankets, rubbing his scent on your sheets deliberately. While you enjoyed his presence, he enjoyed taking huge whiffs of your scent, all the while marking your night territory like it was his own; like you both were bound to sleep together on it. No wonder your bed smelled like Izuku that night. Sure, it was entirely new to you, but it wasn’t like you hated it. Besides, who didn’t like the smell of pines and olives?

Well your class sure as hell did not like that smell on you.

They kept giving you glances the next day, discomfort evident in the way they looked at you. Izuku took an absence, as he failed to take his pills at his cycle of heat, that you knew. It wasn’t until Mina confronted you did you understand why they’d been looking at you like you had just committed a felony.

“Did you... did you really scent Midoriya?”

Oh, so that was why they were acting so strange and distant from you.

You weren’t about to blatantly confess that you let Izuku use your bed as a pseudo-nest. Laughing it off, you explained, “Oh, he just accidentally slept on my bed while we were studying together.”

“You let him sleep on your fucking bed?” Incredulously exclaimed Bakugo. “What the hell were you thinking?!”

“I-”

“Don’t you know how things could have escalated between you two?! For fuck’s sake, you’re no longer a beta!”

You fell into silence at that. It had been only a few weeks ever since you knew of your actual second gender. Believing you’d been a beta your whole life, you weren’t exactly taught the dos-and-don’ts of the alpha-omega dynamic. Being beta gave you a large advantage in your platonic relationships with others; you neither had to worry of touching them nor take note of schedules for heats or ruts. Didn’t have to avoid people or set boundaries for something nature had instated upon them.

“Things didn’t escalate between us.” You sternly explained. “I let him sleep on my bed because he was tutoring me and was tired. He never meant to get his scent all over me, and I never had the intention of taking advantage of him if that’s what you’re implying.” You looked at Bakugo with mild disgust. “I’m sorry for not knowing any better. I wasn’t exactly taught this stuff growing up.”

But Bakugo wasn’t mad at that. Not because you could have taken advantage of Izuku, but because he took advantage of you and your naivety. He must have done something to make you allow him to sleep in your bed, like gaslighting you, guilt tripping you with things just so he could scent you.

But who was to say they wouldn’t do the same?

Scenting you, that is. And with your lack of knowledge of being an alpha or omega, it was so much easier to make you let their actions slide, like Momo offering to take care of your blankets or Ochako accidentally mixing up both your garments during laundry day. Denki rubbing his cheek on your neck to scent you under the ruse of playful flirting or Kirishima inviting you to workout with him because his scent exuded more rampantly when sweating. Shoto or Bakugo getting extra touchy with you during sparring in hero training - warm hands brushing against your rear or icy fingertips keeping you pinned down by the neck.

And if you grew up with a lot of misconceptions caused by your classmates? That was alright; they didn’t have intentions on leaving you be, anyway.

#bnha abo #bnha x reader #abo #boku no hero academia x reader #boku no hero academia #yandere x reader #yandere class 1a #class 1a x reader #reader insert #x reader #yandere bnha #yandere #bnha omegaverse #omegaverse #abo dynamics #yanderechuu

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moonlit-han · 4 years

Text

stray kids’ reactions to you taking medication for depression & anxiety ↠ all members

genre: reaction word count: 2.4k warnings: discussion of depression and anxiety, description of panic/anxiety attack, swearing request: yes

a/n: hi anon! wow, this one turned highly personal really fast. so, this turned into a combination of your original request and how stray kids would react just knowing that you have depression/anxiety. i think how they’d care for and support you is a large part of their reactions to finding out, if that makes sense. i hope this brings you comfort~

✧ masterlist in bio ✧

bang chan

as with most things, chan would be very understanding

he’d just want you to feel and function the best you could

and not have to worry about whether you’re going to be able to make it through a day

he’d noticed when you first started dating that you occasionally withdrew into yourself

and needed time alone

chan didn’t really think anything of it

bc he also kinda just turns into a hermit and hides to reset and recuperate

but when you’d told him that you take meds for anxiety and depression

his sneaking suspicion that you’d been struggling with something was confirmed

it all made sense!

chan would be immediately and absolutely on board to support you

he wasn’t gonna let those nasty depression demons get the better of his y/n

no! fucking!! way!!! ＼＼\٩(๑`^´๑)۶//／／

when you could stand it, he’d be really cute and cuddly to try to make you feel better

and he’d also research everything about the meds

on the days that you just needed to be left alone, he’d be worried

bc he wouldn’t want you to be lonely or to need him and for him to not be there immediately for you

but sometimes even just the presence of another person is exhausting

even if it’s your partner

he’d always come back with flowers or your favorite kind of pie or curry or something else delicious or beautiful

all he wants is for you to feel like you can face the world

bc he’ll always be there by your side (♡‿♡)

lee minho

minho would be matter of fact and accepting about the whole thing

he wouldn’t be fussed

and would just accept that sometimes you’d be less than cheerful

and that it has nothing to do with him or his actions

while he wouldn’t necessarily understand the ins and outs of depression and/or anxiety,

he would still be totally committed to supporting you

he’d be glad that you have meds

because it’s hard for him to see you so down and feeling so blank

he just wants you to be okay

he’ll ask if you’re okay and what he can do

sometimes he just has to ask you a few times

just to be sure

for his own peace of mind

if any family, friends, coworkers, anyone gave you shit about your depression and anxiety

minho would be the kind of person to just:

Σ(☉‿☉✿)Σ(☉‿☉✿)Σ(☉‿☉✿) “hold my flower”and prepare to fight the world for you

alkjfhakjfdhkj

minho would always make sure that you have your meds on time

either going to pick them up from the pharmacy for you

or reminding you to get them yourself

he’d also remind you to take the meds on your especially bad days

when you can’t exactly think or do much else

while he jokes that cats are the best medicine for anything

minho knows and agrees that medication for mental illness and such is important

bc it helps you be able to function

but that doesn’t stop him from trying his best to make you feel energized and focused through other means!

you have a weekly picnic date, even after dating for two years

it’s the sweetest thing ever

and definitely helps (≧◡≦)

seo changbin

it was the first time you slept over at his place

(a really lovely evening with lots of sweet cuddling ｡ﾟ(ﾟ∩´﹏`∩ﾟ)ﾟ｡ )

(((oh no now i’m soft HHHH)))

and you’d left your bag sitting out in the living room

changbin had thought it would be nice if he got your things for you in the morning

and he also wanted to make you breakfast (✿◠‿◠)

so he'd gone to pick up your bag and saw the little pill bottle

and was just “oh, okay~”

when he'd come into the bedroom, changbin looked a little nervous?

bc he wasn’t quite sure how to ask you what meds you were taking

he wasn’t really worried or anything

he just wanted to support you with absolutely no judgement because meds aren’t a bad thing~

he was so understanding and immediately, like chan, researched everything he could about helping someone with anxiety and depression

and then made you breakfast bc that’s wonderful anytime at all

on the days you felt like you couldn’t get out of bed

(or simply couldn’t whether you wanted to or not)

changbin would be there

if you could stay in bed the whole day, then he’d stay with you

if you had to get up and actually do things, he’d do his best to help you

he’d make you food, help you shower, even pick out clothes for you so that you wouldn’t have to think

he’d understand that sometimes you need a bit of a prod to do things

changbin would definitely try his best to make those reminders as caring and lighthearted as possible

after all, you don’t exactly have control over when lack of motivation strikes

changbin would understand and know a lot of the feelings you have

and be able to empathize based on his own experiences

really, he would just continue to love you ♡

hwang hyunjin

hyunjin, oh sweet hyunjin

he’d be so understanding

and would feel really sorry for you

but not in a weird, pitying way

just sad that your brain had decided to betray you in such a way

*insert all the empathy here*

he knows all too well the feelings of hopelessness you sometimes feel

he’d be glad that you have meds, actually

and would even remind you when you have therapy (if you do)

he’d probably send you random “when you have anxiety/depression” memes

you’ve busted out laughing at inopportune times more than once from said memes

when you’re in a depressive episode, hyunjin would be like a cat

just curled up with you as much as possible

if you can’t stand to have someone near you

then, he’d still text you cheesy stuff like those ridiculous valentine’s day pickup lines that are, in fact, funny at any time of the year

oh and don’t forget about the utterly sincere, will-make-you-cry texts, love letters, post-it notes, notes written in blueberries on the counter, and even signs he’d write for you

one day, you’d even opened a lunch he’d made you to find a little note rolled up around your fork:

“hi hello yes you, the pretty one reading this! i love youuuuuu~ have a wonderful day, darling

p.s. remember to take your meds <3”

hyunjin’s gentle nature would be just what you needed

to support you

to love you

to care for you, not only emotionally but also physically

he’d be like a sheltering tree for you

grounded and calm with deep roots, but able to bend with whatever wind your depression/anxiety decided to gust through your lives

han jisung

jisung would…

well, jisung would just:

“AAAAAY, ANXIETY BUDDIES!!” (ﾉ◕ヮ◕)ﾉ;;;;;;

ajkdfhaljkfghaljf

definitely not the response you’d been expecting

but it was perfect nonetheless

you spent an afternoon together just talking about how your anxiety and depression manifested

what helped you to cope

what helped him to cope

which meds you took and if there was anything jisung should be particularly aware of

he’d be really interested in just how your depression and anxiety manifest

bc in order to care for you and help

he wants to know what bit of your brain chemistry has decided to fuck shit up

(sometimes jisung feels like he needs to fuck shit up, too. but really? come oooon y/n’s brain)

he’d leave you notes reminding you to do things when your ability to focus goes completely out the window

you’d wake up to find one of those large sheets of poster paper taped to the ceiling above your bed, saying:

“i love you, even if you have depression/anxiety that makes you forget to do the dishes. again. you’re still my little gremlin <3”

jisung would give you any and all resources he has to help you

he’d probably even write songs for you

there’d probably a mixtape out there somewhere of him screaming at your depression and anxiety

telling them to leave you the fuck alone

bc you’re too wonderful to have to deal with that shit

your weekends together would be spent in the bedroom

under the covers

giggling your asses off

and cuddling

bc it’s dangerous outside the blanket ( ｀^´ )

lee felix

felix would be so chill about it

you’d tell him and he’d just be like

“okay! so what kinds of toppings did you want me to put on this pizza again?”

you’d just kinda blink at him

you’d been worrying about what he’d say

and if he’d leave you or something

(thanks, irrational brain. love you. NOT! ffs)

as if lee felix would ever leave you,,,,,,

it was a relief not to worry about that

felix would still bundle you up in the biggest hugs ever

and smile his sunshine-filled smile at you

honestly, that alone should be enough to cure depression

but, unfortunately, it’s not

((*shakes fist at depression/anxiety*))

but with felix’s smile and meds, you’re feeling much better, thank you

felix would try to make life brighter for you after finding out

he’d understand that sometimes you want to do things but just can’t

there’s no rhyme nor reason to it

and it wouldn’t matter to him

bc he’d still get to spend time with you, even if it just meant sitting on the couch watching movies

felix would know that sometimes he would just have to make decisions for you

not in a controlling way

but just because your anxiety over making decisions and following through with things would get the better of you

he’d make sure you drink water and eat lots of yummy food

his deep voice is the most calming thing oh my god

and whenever you have an anxiety/panic attack

felix would immediately catch you up in his arms and slow dance with you through the entire episode

even if you’re barely able to stand, he’d hold you up and support you

just so, at an incredibly scary time, you’d have the most loving arms around you

kim seungmin

you were having a panic attack when seungmin came over one time

and you’d just kinda slumped against the wall as soon as he’d come in the door

aaaand you’d had to explain what was going on

but seungmin had just helped you breathe deeply

and eventually you’d calmed down to the point that you felt like

well, like a limp noodle (＠_＠)

you know that feeling when your body is so exhausted from having a panic attack

that you can’t exactly do much else?

yeah. that.

so, he would be glad that you have meds for your depression/anxiety

like jisung, seungmin would want to have A Stern Conversation with your depression/anxiety

bc he’s tired of its shit ψ(｀-´ )ψ

not because he can’t deal with it or you

because he hates to see you in so much distress

also,,,,,,

no one should have to feel like there’s no joy left in the world, irrational thinking rules their brain, and like they’re trapped in a cycle of dysfunction, no matter how hard they try

bc sometimes just trying isn’t enough

and seungmin understands that~

sometimes you just need a little outside help

he’d come up with all sorts of things he could do for you to help ease your anxiety

he’d write down all your triggers just so he’d know what avoid

or what to tell other people to avoid alkdfjhakljdfh

bc we all know seungmin is that person (-_-;)・・・

when he found out that you have trouble deciding on food at restaurants

he’d immediately printed out the menus to all the restaurants you loved

just so you could take your time deciding at home

and not feel overwhelmed

aksjfhlskfjdh what a good bean

seungmin is just a sweetie who wants the best for you, really

plus, when you’re feeling better….

the two of you can go on adventures!! (⌒▽⌒)

yang jeongin

jeongin would be a little baffled that someone’s brain could be that cruel to them

“you mean you sometimes just can’t be happy?”

“yep, or function, really. sometimes moving or getting out of bed or eating just isn’t a thing”

‧º·(˚ ˃̣̣̥⌓˂̣̣̥ )‧º·˚

“don’t worry about. i’m on meds for it so it’s not as bad”

(◕︵◕);;;;

“jeongin i promise it’s okay…..”

“HHHHHHHHHH”

you just ended up cuddling him and explaining how depression and anxiety worked

(or rather, how fucking annoying and, even, debilitating they are)

that made him happier bc he understood

he’d try to help you do things that help with the depression

like going for walks

or drinking enough water

definitely regulating your sleep

jeongin: “i know, i know, y/n! it’s hard but you haaaave to wake up”

y/n: “mmph” (￢_￢)

jeongin: *lightly swats you with a pillow* “get! up!!”

y/n: *grumpgrumpgrump*

nights are even harder alkjhsjkslkfjhs

jeongin, on the phone: “no you’re not being a night owl tonight. no! y/n~~~~ come on, i’m tired and wanna go to sleep”

y/n: “but i’m not tired!! i’m just gonna play one more round of this and then go to bed. i promise!”

jeongin, not having any of your shit: “uhuh….”

y/n, *sweats*: “i promiiiiiiiiise”

…………………

3 am

jeongin, via email: “this is an automated reminder to G O T O S L E E P”

y/n: “shit.”

he’d want to be there to listen to you whenever you needed him

even though he doesn’t have much experience with this sort of thing

jeongin would do his best as a kind and properly aware person

like everyone else, he just wants you to be okay

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engagemachine · 3 years

Text

"You're so gentle," she tells me. They all say it. I hear it from my patients every time I take their arm to wrap the blood pressure cuff around it, or when I place my stethoscope on their belly, or when I rub circles into their back when I've helped them sit up on the side of the bed for the first time in three days. Sometimes they cry, because it's the first tender touch they've felt since they've been in the hospital. It's very humbling and at the same time very concerning -- why has no one else offered this tenderness to you? Why am I always the first?

But I don't feel gentle. Not when a pair of ribs are cracking beneath my hands as I'm doing chest compressions on a Covid patient who's stopped breathing--the second time I've administered CPR on a Covid patient in two days. I don't feel gentle when I'm wrestling with a patient and begging for them to keep their oxygen mask on. When I have to hold them down and hold them still so my coworker can draw a blood sample. I don't feel gentle when I'm inserting a nasogastric tube down someone's nose, then throat, and into their belly while they're gagging around the tube and their arms are flailing. And I don't feel gentle when I'm washing a sacral wound with bleach and they're crying because it hurts. I don't feel gentle when I have to shout, beg, and plead for patients to listen, when I tell patients they're going to die if they don't keep their oxygen mask on. I don't feel gentle when I have to place a patient in restraints, or when I call a family member and tell them that their loved one's condition hasn't improved. I don't feel gentle when a patient tells me they can't breathe, they can't breathe, I can't breathe, and I'm yelling for coworkers to call the doctor while I'm cycling through different oxygen masks and trying to administer medication to slow their respirations and calm their anxiety.

I'm writing this because I feel like I've been living a little bit behind a veneer on here, although I know deep down that's not really true; I have always wanted my blog to feel like a positive space for anyone and everyone, including myself. I come here to have fun and destress and that's why you usually don't see me reblogging content having to do with politics or global news. I think it's possible to create a healthy space where one does talk about those things and spreads awareness for important causes, but for me, Tumblr is where I come when I need to escape the harsh realities of real life. This is my platform where I can indulge in my fictional proclivities and interests, where I can appreciate art, photography, beautiful writing, my favorite films, music, and cute animals. That's what this space is about. I also have loved meeting new people and getting to know my readers and making new friends and chatting about my stories. That's why I'm here and I thank you all so, so much for indulging me in my passions and for encouraging my writing the way that you have: it has helped me weather the current storm of stress I am feeling in more ways than I could possibly convey.

But I have to be very honest with you all about how much I've been struggling lately, as I feel like I'm reaching a breaking point and I'm somewhat at a loss for how to handle it.

Since September of last year, I've been on an accelerated track to finish the degree I'm working towards, which is a Bachelor of Science in Nursing. I've been a nurse for four years, but I graduated from a two-year nursing program versus a four-year program because I wanted to get into the field earlier than some of my peers, which has been great. Anyway, my school counselor/mentor and I agreed that I could obtain my BSN in a year if I really pushed myself. The program I'm in is self-paced, which has been both a blessing and a curse. Most of my classes I have finished in about three to four weeks. Other classes, like biochemistry, took substantially longer, about seven or eight weeks, if I remember correctly. All of the classes have relied on my ability to self-teach, as there are no scheduled lectures to attend, only assigned readings and videos to watch, if you choose to do so. Fast forward to the end of May, when I went to visit some family, and, upon my return home, really started to lose some of my motivation to complete my classes. I was meant to finish my program in August (this month) but agreed with my mentor that I would take a short break and put my last three classes on hold so that I could resume the program in September. I've enjoyed approximately a month off from school, but "enjoyed" is a term I use loosely here as I was also picking up extra shifts at work because we've been so short staffed and losing nurses left and right.

Which brings me to the main cause of my stress. This pandemic has completely changed the landscape for how I administer care to my patients, and the stress of the care itself has been so utterly overwhelming at times I can hardly bear it. I broke down in tears at work on Sunday morning, shortly after 4:30 am, right there at the the nurse's station, and was sobbing so hard that my supervisor had to pull me away so that I could have some privacy. I wish I could tell you that I sobbed harder than I have in a long time--but I had sobbed at work with that same intensity just four weeks prior, only, I had been alone at the time. It's becoming a trend--I either cry at work or I cry at home--because the stress of this job has become unbearable.

I wish--I desperately wish--I could convey to you the seriousness of Covid. I think so much of the world has already decided to move on from it because they're so tired of having to deal with it and, quite simply, are ready to return to normal. I don't even know what normal is anymore and when--or if--we'll ever be able to return to it. And that has caused me a fair amount of stress and anxiety in and of itself. I miss traveling so much and I don't know when I'll be able to do it again. I haven't seen one of my best friends since the fall of 2018 for this reason, which kills me.

I've seen so much death. Transferred so many patients to the PCU and ICU. Frantically chased patients' oxygen saturation, trying to keep them from circling the drain. Being responsible for six or seven human lives at one time is a stress you cannot fathom unless you have done it yourself. I have cried with a patient, a young woman, who had lost her husband to Covid only hours before in the ER, a young woman who was now faced with battling Covid herself but also planning the funeral of her high school sweetheart from her hospital bed. I have wheeled a patient to the ICU so that he could say one final goodbye to his wife--married for over 50 years--before they pulled the plug and removed her from the ventilator. I have raced down the hallway with my patient on BIPAP, pushing his bed to the ICU and praying that he doesn't stop breathing on the way there. I've had to console crying family members over the phone who are worried about their loved ones, not to mention my crying coworkers who are as overwhelmed as I am. These are just a handful of experiences from the past month alone. There are so many more.

The discomfort of my job has become secondary. I expect, now, to be wearing an N95 for a full twelve or thirteen-hour shift because there isn't time to take it off. Not having a chance to pee or go to the bathroom during that time. Not drinking any water until I'm in my car and taking off my mask and finally taking a deep breath.

On a more personal note, I am continuing to lose weight and it's so discouraging. In high school I used to wear a size 2 or 4. Now, depending on the brand, I wear a double 00. My hair is falling out because of my stress. I haven't slept during the night in... I don't even know how long. I'm constantly tired. Exhaustion hits me like a great tidal wave and I am powerless to stop it. I expect now to crash during the middle of the day on my couch, only to wake up at 11pm and be wide awake for the rest of the night, and, if not wide awake, then in an out of nightmares and sleep paralysis. I have thought about leaving my job, but the idea of job hunting during a pandemic, and while I'm in school... it just makes me feel even more stressed.

I need a break, but it feels like there's nowhere to go to escape. I fantasize about some great adventure, going somewhere I've never been, but I also really miss my family and I'm scared to go home to visit.

This post doesn't really have a conclusive ending. I'm just exhausted and overwhelmed. Any prayers/thoughts would be greatly appreciated.

#text

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nagichi-boop · 3 years

Text

I’m gonna explain the situation behind my previous post cuz I think I’ve hit a bit of a rock bottom with my mental health and I’m not sure what to do.

TL;DR - Tried getting diagnoses from doctors for mental illness, didn’t go well. Need to get a health note for work benefits as I feel unable to do full time work (too stressful), but need to talk to a doctor for that. Unsure what to do (push for diagnosis, ask for health note for just anxiety first, suck it up and keep struggling, etc).

During lockdown I learned a lot about mental illness and neurodivergency. I’m not saying I’m self dxing, but I suspect I may have one or a combo of the following; autism, adhd, ocd, cptsd, DPDR. Currently none have been diagnosed - the only progress I’ve made is being referred to a (still closed) autism clinic which will likely take years to actually do anything.

A gp/doctor said that I have “severe depression and anxiety” (based on a questionnaire that took like 5 mins) on a call where I asked to be referred to a psychiatrist to be assessed tor diagnosis. I even brought up that I thought that I may have ocd. She asked where I got my info from and I said “online”, and she basically dismissed it after that. Like sorry I didn’t go to medical school, where else would I get my info?? But I literally spent hours a day researching mental disorders…hmm, kind of like an ocd compulsion, which is the disorder I gave as an example??

I also did CBT for a bit but hated it. The “therapist” (but probably not cuz apparently social workers are allowed to do CBT for the NHS) said she didn’t think diagnoses were helpful, that symptoms should be addressed. Every session she focused on social anxiety but it made me feel worse - either I’d say “I don’t know” to her questions and she’d push me for an answer and cause me to make something up (due to, uh oh, anxiety) or I would give an answer and she’d be like “that’s not a social anxiety thing, please read this worksheet with the symptoms for social anxiety”, which made me feel like an idiot. Anyways, maybe 4 sessions in I decided to quit because it was too stressful for me. Funnily enough when I told her I felt like I didn’t always know the answer, she said “when that happens, you need to say you don’t know”. LIKE LADY, THAT’S WHAT I DID!!

Needless to say the combo of the two things made me somewhat reluctant to try again to ask for help, so I’m STILL undiagnosed. Now you may be wondering why this is important.

Well, as of a few days ago, I am once again unemployed. Which means I need to (if I want money) go on benefits. The problem with that is they tend to expect you to dedicate your life to job searching and push you to take whatever comes up, which includes full time work. But I really don’t think I could do that. Even working 20 hours a week at my old job was mentally draining. I tried to bring up to the benefits people that I had anxiety and was referred to the autism clinic, but that’s not enough for them. They just told me I needed to get a health note from my doctor. And again, remember how that went before? How would I even ask for that?

I feel stuck. I know logically I should probably just try and talk to a different doctor or something, but I have no idea where to start. Do I bring up ocd? Or just say I’m generally struggling? Or ask to see a psychiatrist again? Do I ask for the health note first or try and get assessed so I know what I’m dealing with?

It’s gotten to the point where my brain is screaming “hurt yourself” or “you’re better off dead”. I feel so useless and dysfunctional.

As the icing on the cake, I don’t rly have a support system. I love my parents, but much like the counsellor I had, they think I have social anxiety and nothing else. They don’t think a diagnosis would help. And they don’t really react at all when I say I’m pretty much suicidal (like they seem unconcerned). It’s not because they don’t care, they just don’t understand (despite claiming to). I also don’t really have any friends, so no support there.

On a good day, I feel emotionally numb and/or disconnected from myself. On a bad day, it feels like there’s an intense pressure building up inside of me and it sucks cuz I can’t let it out and all I can think of is wanting to hurt myself to relieve the feeling. (Also just to to clarify, I don’t actively self harm and have not and have no plans to attempt suicide, but I also don’t have sort of outlet or support for when I have the urge to, so I just bottle it up.)

…any advice?

(Sorry for the long post)

#long post #autism #adhd #ocd #cptsd #dpdr #anxiety #social anxiety #depression #undiagnosed #nagichi talks

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nctadoll · 3 years

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Aight, so, it’s time for one of these posts. I make these posts occasionally on my other blogs, so if you follow a few of my other blogs, then you might be rereading a bit— However, quite a bit has happened since my last post regarding this subject. I make these posts as, updates / warnings I suppose, as I feel they’re warranted whenever a new blog of mine gets any kind of traction.

Intense trigger heavy content below the cut.

For those not in the know, I’m J. I went by ‘Jake’ for a number of years, but about a year ago I decided to shorten it, it was just simpler that way. I’m currently 21 years old, and I’ve been writing on this platform since I was 13. Which is kinda crazy looking back on it, amazing how time flies like that.

Within the last... Five or so years, something started happening to me, something that I wasn’t really familiar with on a self basis, but I gotta go further back to properly provide context. Starting in 2011, making me 11 at the time, my family moved from our first house, this brought along MANY challenges as a move typically does— However, shortly after the move, my father lost his job. This, did a lot to him, severely damaging his mental stability. This continued until 2016?? ( My memory of exactly when is foggy ) When he was kicked from the residence over physical domestic abuse issues. He lived away for a year, and then he returned. Then, almost a year later, it happened again, ending with him hospitalized and kicked out once again ( this took place on my 18th birthday lmao ), where he remains gone till this day. Though, given the state of the things happening, that might be changing in the coming weeks.

He was eventually diagnosed with Borderline Personality Disorder, which, is an extremely heavy mental disorder to have. And a few months ago, I was diagnosed with the exact same disorder. Up until the age of about 16 / 17 I never had massive issues with mental health, I was happy and never really felt any downtime. That changed, as mood swings became common, and I found myself combative and easy to anger, which was something that was never the case before. My family just excused it as puberty as they do.

For those unaware, BPD causes... Multiple horrid things. Such as fear of abandonment, unclear / shifting self image, impulsive and self destructive behavior, explosive anger, intense paranoia and suicidal tendencies. I can safely say, I see and deal with all of this. Now, this has manifested in multiple ways online, many in ways that harm my friends. What’ll happen, is I’ll grow so intensely paranoid of little things, that things will build and build until I have an Event where I cut myself from friends and delete blogs or accounts. Then, a few hours later, or in intense cases DAYS later, I’ll come down from this hell high, and remember the shit I did, or sometimes I’ll even have no recollection of the things I’ve done- Leading to piecing together why some friends disappeared or why they won’t speak to me.

One of the most damaging things, can be the warped perception of everything around you. All of this, has wildly damaged my social abilities over the years— And that’s perhaps one of the most difficult parts, what was simple for me years ago, is suddenly a lot more difficult. It’s led to an intense social anxiety and it leads to you just, wildly fearing how you’ll fuck up the good things you have going for you. Regardless of if you want to or not. It’s so, unbelievably damaging and corruptive. It’s caused me to become this, horrid thing in the eyes of old friends, and I can’t apologize enough. It spawned this, desire to fight and feel a rush of conflict, hence the impulsive behavior.

It’s something in this weird window, it isn’t me, but at the same time it technically is. I’ve lived my life so desperately trying to never bother anyone around me, the stress of the idea of bothering someone often keeps me from doing anything at all. Which is why this is such a problem. Over the last few months, I’ve been put on medication, and it’s really been helping me, more so than I had anticipated... My impulsive moments aren’t really happening anymore, and while I have down moments, they don’t lead to shitty behavior anymore.

I bring these kinda things up, because in the off chance I’m WRONG about how helpful the medication is, or something gets fucked up with it— I want people to know ahead of time.. It’s a lot to ask my friends to put up with it, and I’m not saying they have to— BPD is a lot, and I don’t blame anyone that would rather avoid it, it’s intense. I also know a bunch of people that, won’t speak to me over issues like this, I guess I kinda hope that one day they’ll at least be able to see this and understand. I don’t need forgiveness, because at the end of the day, I did the things I did, blocking and isolating, I did it— I don’t know if I deserve it, but I at the very least wanna be understood. I think, for those unaware, it creates this, weird idea of what I am, like I’m purposefully trying to do them wrong, and that can’t be further from the case.

If you’ve read all of this, I greatly appreciate it. It puts a lot of ease on my mind. This is also open for discussion or conversation, should you wish to know more or anything, I’m completely open to talk.

#suicide mention tw #physical abuse tw #mental abuse tw #／(◕ x ≦ )＼ —『 OOC 』#I make these to... Warn & update I guess #It eases my mind to inform others of my situation #and it also helps to just‚ get it out there #I don't have many outlets to discuss it‚ or at least.. Feel comfortable discussing it

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kimannhart · 4 years

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Here is part two to THIS ficlet I wrote a couple of days ago. Though, this can be read as a stand alone fic.

Also, I’ll most likely be posting this fic in its entirety on ao3 once I figure out a title. So if you haven’t read the first part and wanna wait, keep ya eyes on my ao3 for it!

mentions of injury cw

It’s been about four months since Tony’s last stunt in the hospital, and ever since then, neither Bucky nor Sam have left his side. And to be quite frank, it was driving Tony insane. He hasn’t had a single moment alone, anytime he had to use the restroom, one of the men would be hanging outside the door. If Tony had a business meeting at SI, Bucky would always be lurking nearby. In their most recent battle, both men disregarded Steve’s orders and decided to fight nearby Tony. The only reason Tony hasn’t snapped at the two to leave him alone yet is because he was hanging onto the hope that he would be traveling alone for SI business overseas. (He had ordered JARVIS to keep his AI mouth shut about it. And Tony didn’t even have to beg Steve to keep quiet about his future travels. Instead Steve just looked at him with pity and nodded that he wouldn’t say a word to Bucky or Sam.)

So, here Tony was now, quickly trying to pack the bare minimum before Bucky and Sam came back home from their forced date night. Sharon, bless her soul, acted as his savior for his getaway and told Bucky and Sam to go out on a date to give Tony some peace. To which the two refused to go on at first, but quickly agreed before Sharon threatened to call her soulmate, Pepper. Not wanting to face the scolding of Pepper, the two men easily backed down and said they’d be back within an hour.

As soon as Tony was done, he hopped into the car with Happy and made his way to the airport. The moment that the plane was in the air, Tony finally was able to relax. He was finally free from the watchful eyes of Bucky and Sam.

Tony absently starts to rub against the right side of his chest, the spot where his soul mark—a snake wrapping itself amongst a small bouquet of gladiolus and proteas—laid against his skin. A part of him knew that he should admit to Bucky and Sam that he was their third soulmate, but those dark thoughts always prevent him from doing so. Tony sighs to himself and decides to focus on SI business instead.

Once Tony reaches his hotel, he finally checks his phone and is bombarded with a swarm of texts, with most of them coming from Bucky and Sam, which isn’t surprising at all, wondering where he went, why he didn’t say anything, when he’s coming back, and just more questions. Though, instead of answering the questions, Tony makes the decision of turning off his phone and shoves it into one of the drawers in his hotel room.

The days went by and Tony was genuinely surprised that neither Bucky or Sam decided to hop onto a plane to where he was. But he assumes the reason they hadn’t is because the rest of their friends had convinced them not to go. Well, whatever the reason, Tony was just grateful to roam around by himself.

Tony was currently walking towards some cafe to grab himself a pastry when all of a sudden he hears piercing screams. Quickly, he dashes towards the screams and is greeted to a man dressed to the nines that is terrorizing citizens.

“I couldn’t have one week of peace?” Tony mutters to himself. He jumps into the action. Though, it wasn’t long before he felt pain and succumbed to the darkness.

Tony slowly awakes and silently internally to himself when he realizes he’s back in the hospital. He feels someone nudge a spoon at his mouth and obediently opens, instantly grateful for the cool ice chips that melt in his mouth. Tony opens his eyes and is met with Steve’s worried face.

“Couldn’t keep yourself out of trouble, could you Shellhead?”

“Wouldn’t be me if I did, Winghead.” Tony looks around his room, a bit surprised that he wasn’t greeted to Bucky or Sam’s faces.

“They’re in the waiting room,” Steve answers, knowing what Tony was about to ask. “They’re, uh, a bit angry at you at the moment.”

Angry? What could the two be angry at him about? For landing himself in the hospital again?

“Do you remember how you ended up here Tony?”

“I was fighting some guy, right?”

Steve nods. “But what you didn’t know was that he has some powers. He managed to stab the left side of your chest pretty badly with one small motion of his fingers before getting away.” Steve stops for a moment, debating with himself if he should tell Tony what he and the rest of the world saw.

“Tell me, Steve,” Tony presses, “What else happened?”

Steve gives Tony an apologetic look before continuing. “Someone tried helping you, you know to try to get the bleeding to stop. But they had to rip up your shirt...”

Tony starts to panic, not liking where Steve is going with this.

“... they exposed your soul mark, Tony. Someone managed to take a photo of it and post it on social media. JARVIS managed to get it down quickly, but it was too late. Gossip sites had already took screenshots and started writing up stories, which Pepper and the rest of our PR team is completely furious about.” Steve stops talking, letting Tony come to terms with what happened. “I’m sorry, Tony,” he adds in while giving his hand a comforting squeeze.

Tony waits a few moments before finally asking, “So, they know?”

“They know.”

“Fuck.”

The following day, Sam and Bucky walked into Tony’s room and sat themselves down in the chairs next to his bed and stared.

“Hi, boys.”

“Were you ever going to tell us?” Sam asks, getting straight to the point.

Tony looks down and shakes his head.

“Why?” Bucky’s voice cracks. “Are we, are we not good enough for you? Is our mark that shameful to you?”

“No, no, no, no,” Tony quickly replies. “It’s me who’s not good enough for either of you!” Before either men could respond back, Tony starts to explain. “It’s just, you two are just so amazing, strong, and undoubtedly the most courageous people I’ve ever met. And I know I’m none of that!” He hesitantly points to his head, “I just, I have these thoughts...”

“What kind of thoughts?” Sam softly asks. “Are they bad ones?” he presses when Tony doesn’t answer.

Tony nods before finally breaking down the walls he put around his soul and lets the tears fall.

The three men spend the rest of the night talking and understanding one another. By the end of the conversation, Tony promises to finally see a therapist and to see a psychiatrist to see if he wants to put onto antidepressants and anti-anxiety medication. While Bucky and Sam made promises to be there for Tony and when to back off to give him alone time. The three of them also decided to see a group therapist together in order to help them communicate and understand the changes in their relationship.

THREE YEARS LATER

Tony groans when he hears Bucky open the curtains to let in the sunlight. He turns and hides his face in Sam’s side. “Clos’ the ‘urtains, babe.”

“Nope, you both promised me a morning hike to celebrate our new freedom from the job, and that’s what we’re doing today!” Bucky lightly smacks both his soulmates on their respective asses before pulling the blanket and sheets off of them. “Up! Up! Up!”

“Fuck off.” Sam lazily throws a pillow at Bucky’s face. “We’re retired now, we can hike tomorrow.”

“What Sam said.”

Bucky raises a brow before getting an idea. “If the two of you get up now, we can have some kinky outdoor sex on the top of a mountain.”

At the mention of sex, Sam and Tony immediately get out of bed.

“That always works,” Bucky chuckles. “I love you both!” he shouts out as he starts to make their bed, smiling when he hears Tony and Sam shout it back.

#winterironfalcon #okay tbh i hate the section where bucky sam and tony talk things out #i think this is my try at attempting to write resolutions and i def need work lmao #but i hope that part was decent enough #joanis writes a thing #also i didn't proofread this so if there's mistakes im sorry lmao

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jenniferdiazisatransgirl · 4 years

Text

My Journey

Hey everyone, As you will likely know by now I am a trans woman and I live in the UK where lately trans people have been under significant scrutiny by the press, government and groups claiming to be acting in the name of feminism.

One of the arguments used when not directly attacking trans people, is that the medical institutions that help us in the UK fast track us through transition, even the NHS and I know so many trans people in this country that I can say without a shadow of a doubt this is not true. This includes a significant number who have been under the care of Tavistock and Portman, the under 18s service which was recently banned from giving its patients hormone blockers without the approval of the courts.

But anyway, I’m gonna share my story and how lengthy the process actually is and I will warn ahead of time this deals with suicidal ideation, gatekeeping, mental health, etc. So proceed with caution. This will also be a long post.

September/October 2008

I can’t remember which month but it was just before my 16th birthday, my Dad encouraged me to go to my GP regarding my gender dysphoria. I lived with my transphobic Mum at the time and had to go behind her back which was terrifying to say the least. I saw a doctor called Dr Moulsher and explained everything I was going through and his response was, “I don’t think the NHS funds any of this.” He was very ignorant on trans issues but it actually fortunately worked out in my favour, I got lucky, I know, but he just wanted me off of his hands.

I explained in Sheffield there was a GIC (gender identity clinic) operated by the NHS known as Porterbrook and he was just like, “Oh right. Well I’m more than happy to refer you but they likely won’t see you till you are 18.”

He asked me some questions, wrote up a detailed report and put in the referral to “get the ball rolling” as he worded it.

I was terrified at the time of the referral letter going to my home address though and he was like, “Well it needs to be sent somewhere.” So he agreed to send it to my grandparents address.

Later That Year

About a month or so later a letter arrived at my grandparents saying I had been accepted onto Porterbrook’s waiting list, explaining it is substantially long, that they wouldn’t be able to see me till I’m 18, etc. Your typical boiler plate stuff. Also as I understand it they don’t typical accept referrals for under 18s so I got lucky there. I remember getting so excited when I got my letter though, that I took it into school to show all of my friends.

Back then it was a requirement that I have a mental health assessment while on the waiting list though. So I returned to Dr Moulsher who I had become rather comfortable with and had made him my regular GP. He made a referral to the local mental health clinic and that was that.

January/February 2009

A letter came in the post asking me to ring to book at appointment at the local mental health clinic. I couldn’t ring from home cos my Mum would overhear and she was spying on me a lot at the time due to really being against the fact I’m trans. My school - which was a Catholic school shockingly enough - had already decided my home environment had become so toxic that I needed removing from my Mum’s care. They would be a process that wouldn’t be completed till June 2010 but yeah, it had got that bad. Anyway, I ended up asking the school receptionist if I could ring on their phone to book the appointment. That was booked for February.

The appointment was a weird one to say the least. The doctor asked me a quite a lot of questions but these are the ones that stuck out.

So with this first one, I am going to preface with that as far as I am aware, I am white and of white ancestry for all the generations I know of. However I do have remarkably curly hair that left to its own devices grows into an afro (or at least what looks like an afro). So the first set of questions that stood out; Dr: What’s your mother’s ethnicity? Me: White British.

Dr: Sorry, did you say Afro-Caribbean? Me: No. White British. Dr: And your father’s ethnicity? Me: White British. Dr: Sorry, was that Afro-Caribbean?

Me: Nope. White British.

Not really sure how you can get Afro-Caribbean and White British verbally mixed up but he seemed very adamant at least one of my parents must be Afro-Caribbean.

He then later goes;

Dr: Do you have a partner?

Me: Yes.

Dr: Are they male or female?

Me: I have a girlfriend.

Dr: Then you can’t be trans. You can’t be trans if you like girls.

Me: What about lesbians?

Dr: That’s beside the point.

Shockingly, in the end he agreed with my GP’s assessment that I am trans but Jesus, as you can probably guess from above that mental health assessment was a minefield of weird.

24th October 2010

In June 2010, I was finally removed from my Mum’s care at the age of 17 and placed in supported housing and on the date about I got a phone call from Porterbrook GIC on my 18th birthday no less, inviting me to my first appointment in November.

22nd June 2012

I legally changed my name and title by deed poll to Miss Lily Nichole Robinson.

22nd October 2012

I’d now been at Porterbrook for almost 2 years, had lots of appointments, most of which repeated the same mundane questions and it had started to feel like nothing was ever going to change. I had become increasingly depressed and suicidal and I had decided that if nothing had changed by my 20th birthday I was going to take my own life. I did not want to enter my 20s still living my life as a man. I didn’t want to lose another year of my life.

I remember this date exactly, not because I marked it in my calendar but because Taylor Swift’s album “Red” came out that morning. Despite everything, I was dancing along to 22 that morning while ironing some clothes, before I headed off to Porterbrook. I didn’t really feel like it mattered, I was going to kill myself 2 days later but I figured what is the harm in going through the motions one last time.

I sat there, trying not to let on how miserable I was, didn’t see the point in letting them in on how I was feeling. Nothing would change.

I remember being asked some really gross questions that day though. I got asked if I masturbated and I just declined answering. When challenged I was just like, “I maybe trans and I may hate that equipment but I’m a human being. I still have sexual urges. What do you think the answer is.”

The appointment though, shockingly ended with them telling me they were going to put me on hormones. I was gonna get my estrogen. It was enough to give me a reason to keep on living.

But just bare in mind how close I got to taking my own life there. 2 days away from my 20th birthday. Also it took almost 2 years for them to say they’d be placing me on hormones.

January/February 2013

In January, I had my bloods taken to get a baseline and I was told about options for storing gametes. I did decide to consider this but in the end it ended up being too costly for me at the time. So in February, on a day it was snowing I got the train and was adamant the snow was not stopping me getting to Porterbrook and I had an appointment with the head clinician, Dr Kevin Wylie.

He oddly listed all the testosterone blocker options to me with side effects and risks and all the estradiol options to me with side effects and risks. In the end I chose Cyproterone Acetate for my blocker and Estradiol Valerate pills for my hormones.

50mg per day of Cyproterone Acetate and 2mg per day of Estradiol Valerate. I was ecstatic and took them both the second I got on the bus 😊

May 2013

Slightly unrelated to the medical process but just 3 months in and my mental health had improved drastically. Since I was removed from my Mum’s care I had become a bit of a shut in. I didn’t have any friends, my anxiety was through the roof, I was insanely depressed and I just avoided everything and everyone, only leaving my house for work. Hormones changed that though, I just felt so much happier and I also remember that Spring just being like really vividly aware of the colours of all the flowers and plant life for like the first time in my life. I actually wanted to go out and social and make friends and there was a local LGBT youth group for 18-25 year olds that I decided to join and I started to have and social life again. And by September 2013 I started university and soon came getting drunk with the LGBT Liberation Group at the various socials. I was happy and finally starting to feel like myself.

2013 - 2016

Porterbrook became very gatekeepy in the final stage of my transition. They didn’t like how I dressed. Apparently girls wear dresses while I preferred jeans, t-shirts and hoodies. I didn’t like wearing make-up. I wasn’t the 1950s image of a girl that Porterbrook seemed to expect. I actually have a trans guy friend who around the same time had been told he couldn’t start on testosterone unless he cut his hair short, cos apparently men don’t have long hair.

It pissed me off to no end because I transitioned to be me, not to be a performance of how the world thinks a woman should be. I refused to give ground on how I dressed, etc but in the end I ended up telling a few white lies to get past the final level of gatekeeping. And I can’t remember most of this dates as they happened while uni was going on in the background. But eventually Porterbrook gave me the go ahead for surgery, about 6 months later I had my second opinion and then I was referred for surgery.

January 2016

I had my pre-surgery assessment at Nuffield Health Brighton and I was told if I wanted I could have my surgery as early as March 2016. Due to university though, this proved a bit too soon and the date was pushed to June 2016.

22nd June 2016

The day before the EU Referendum I had my gender reassignment surgery. I don’t actually remember feeling all that ecstatic after the surgery. There was lot of pain and I was on a lot of drugs. But a friend, Rosie, who I hadn’t seen since high school lived in the area and she was at my bedside when I woke up. I was in hospital a week and had 3 months of recovery ahead of me.

Post Surgery 2016

Having surgery had been great, things finally felt right. My entire body felt right for once but I had tunnel visioned my life towards surgery and put a lot of stuff on the back burner and had some major post-surgery depression so I sort counselling at my university to get through these issues and once that was sorted I felt a lot more stable in myself and like nothing was in my way.

October 2016

I put in my application for my Gender Recognition Certificate only for it to get rejected because they did not like the assessment from Porterbrook GIC and Dr Wylie who wrote the assessments was off on leave. Me and a nurse had to sit down and look through my medical record to find a medical report they might accept and we finally found one. However they wouldn’t say what was wrong with the original which made Porterbrook kinda stumped on what was wrong.

February 2017

I received my Gender Recognition Certificate and my new Birth Certificate.

March 2017

I was discharged from Porterbrook GIC.

For those who are under the impression gender reassignment is a fast process it isn’t, it took me 8 years and 6 months start to finish, from initially seeing my GP at 15 to finally being discharged from Porterbrook GIC at the age of 24. It is a long ass process with a shit tone of gatekeeping and honestly going through the process as it stands isn’t something I’d wish on my worst enemy. When I was discharged from Porterbrook GIC in 2017 my first thought was, “I’m free. I’m finally in control of my own life.” As up until that point, I felt I had no autonomy and that my life and happiness was in the hands of doctors. It was miserable.

But there it is.

#trans woman #transgender #my life #uk #trigger warning #long post #miscellaneous

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sweetpeaownsmyheart · 4 years

Text

I think I’ll call you cupcake (Sweet Pea x Reader)

Hi guys!! This is my first piece of writing so feedback is always welcome as well as constructive criticism! Also I want to give massive thanks to @riverdaleimagines1 who inspires me so much and also gave me confidence to post this! I love your work and will continue to gush over it to you whenever I can <3

Word Count - Around 4000

Warnings - Some mild language

Summary - Sweet Pea meets a girl who may be too much for him to handle. Both parties soon learn that people sometimes aren’t always the hard person the show on the outside.

-----

When living near the border of the North of Riverdale and the South, you grow up with 2 rules.

1. Don’t go out at past 11 unless you’re with enough people to fight off an angry mob

2. NEVER cross the line without protection unless you want to be, well, dead meat?

Well you grow up with these rules, if you live on the Northside, rumours are that on the south it’s always go out past 11 to scare Northsiders and turn them to, well, dead meat.

So, as you wander home unarmed and alone at 11:30, taking the shortcut through abandoned streets, an uneasy feeling settles in your stomach and you wished you had taken Betty’s offer to stay the night.

While you were certainly no damsel in distress and knew your way around a knife and human anatomy enough to do some damage, it didn’t lighten the situation. With your phone reaching its last couple of percent and a chill forming in the air. Your desire to be home, safe and warm, was increasing as well as your pace – so you made the decision to cross into the Southside taking a shortcut over an overgrown bridge.

You didn’t believe the rumours of course. You were from a rare brand of Northsiders who genuinely didn’t care about where people were from and didn’t stereotype however that didn’t stop your fear as you crossed the bridge to a land which was still relatively unknown to you despite your friend, Jughead, living there. Although he only became your friend when he recently moved back to Riverdale high bringing all the serpents with him, you were very close to him.

‘Stupid and Reckless’. That’s what your dad would call it. Coming home late with no protection, no weapons and taking the shortcut through the southside? Yes, ‘Stupid and Reckless’. You could practically hear the words leaving his mouth even though home was a distant thought at this point, your mind more focussed on weaving through the streets preying you remembered the way jughead showed you last time you walked with him.

You knew your dad hated the shortcut, despite living on the northside, he didn’t hate the southside either, he just didn’t like the thought of you getting hurt, but it was serpent territory and being friends with Jug had its advantages plus the streets are usually deserted at this time of night anyway. So, you continue to walk keeping a tight grip around yourself to try to maintain the heat that was seeping away as a steady rainfall began.

At that point, slowly becoming more cold and wet, you really began to regret your decision not to have an impromptu sleepover with Betty. You debated your decisions. You could keep walking home or you could turn and go back to Betty’s. Both options would take about the same time and neither sounded particularly enjoyable knowing it would take you at least 25 minutes to reach your destination even if you ran.

A third option came into mind but was quickly replaced by the sound of motorbikes approaching. You were frozen to the spot (literally because the rain had you shivering and metaphorically because your brain couldn’t process what was happening) but as the bikes rounded the corner nearest to you, you jumped out the way, falling and scratching your hands on the rough ground.

As the bikes drew nearer you noticed the iconic serpent on the jacket and felt a bit more at ease despite not knowing who was under the helmet, at least these guys had morals and you hadn’t had an unfortunate run in with some ghoulies who decided they wanted more terf. Your anxiety spiked and then declined as a bike pulled to a stop beside you and the driver was revealed to be Jughead as he removed his helmet.

‘Y/N?’ He questioned getting off the bike. ‘What are you doing here? It’s almost midnight. You must be freezing, are you freezing? Come here.’

He fired off more questions barely breathing between and not giving you time to answer before smothering you in a jacket he pulled from the back of his bike and pulling you up from the ground. Then he became quiet and looked at you expectantly.

‘Huh?’ You were confused having barely heard his questions over the sound of rain hitting the ground.

‘Are you okay?’ He practically shouted back at you.

‘Yeh, yeh, I’m fine! I was coming back from Betty’s and decided to take the shortcut and then my phone was close to dying and it started raining and I couldn’t quite remember whether I had to turn left of right but then I heard motorbikes and now you’re here. And by the looks of it my hands are bleeding, but I’ll be fine once I get home.’

Jughead almost giggles as you get caught up in telling your story, but he quickly gains composure and grabs your wrist to look at your damaged hands. ‘They’re covered in dirt Y/N/N and some if it is IN your hands, come on I’ll get you cleaned up and take you back home in the morning’

‘Jug you really don’t have to, I’m almost home anyway and my dad thinks that I’m coming back so I really should go’

‘Y/N really? You need medical attention! I’m not just letting you go home without it because I know that you won’t do it yourself. Please just come with me, I’ll text yo..’

At that moment, the sound of another motorbike fills your ears and it too pulls to a stop besides you and Jug. The guy on the bike removed his helmet and you could swear a ‘holy fuck’ left your mouth which was met with a cocky smirk on the unknown guys face, although that may have just been him.

‘Who’s this Jones? Another one of your Northside girlfriends? Didn’t peg you as that type.’ The boy said with a scowl as he took note of your hands still in Jugs.

‘Piss off Sweet Pea, she’s just a friend.’

‘Yeah whatever Jones, I should have known that 2 northside princesses was too much of a miracle for you to swing…’

‘I do have a name you know.’ You piped up only to be ignored by the 2 boys. Jughead pushed you behind him when he saw Sweet Pea’s attention turn to you as you spoke.

‘What Jones? Scared we will corrupt her like we did your other one?’ Sweet Pea remarked noting the harshness that had appeared in Jug’s eyes and staring him down.

‘Damn, you could cut the sexual tension here with a knife.’ You say attempting to alleviate the awkward silence. It didn’t work. ‘Well if you do decide to jump one another I think I’d prefer to be going actually. I’m cold and wet and frankly can’t stand the amount of testosterone here.’ You say stepping out from behind Jughead and turning towards him. ‘Thanks for the jacket Jug I’ll give it back to you tomorrow yeh?’ you say before quickly making your escape.

As you began walking away you could hear hushed arguments behind you but were unable to make out the words until Jughead called your name.

‘Y/N, hey wait up.’ He shouted jogging up behind you. ‘your hands, they’re still bleeding. Please just let me clean them up.’

‘No Jug, I’m fine really. I just want to get home.’

‘And I want to clean your hands. Quicker you agree, quicker I can get you somewhere warm.’

You narrow your eyes at him but eventually reply, ‘fine but only because I know you’ll have a tantrum if things don’t go your way.’

At that point, the mysterious boy, he was called Sweet Pea if you remembered correctly, returned to your view with a questioning look on his face which quickly morphed into the pretentious smirk which he wore before.

‘What’s wrong with the princess, got her head too far up her ass to accept help from a snake like you? Not surprising for someone who thought it would be a good idea to come on our terf flaunting her northside self’ He asked harshly.

Jug went to reply but at that point you had had enough of him speaking for you so you cut him of turning to Sweet Pea and darkly responding, ‘you would know wouldn’t you?’

For a flitter of a second a look of shock passed over Sweet Pea’s face before it was replaced once again by harsh eyes and an unwavering stare which pushed you to continue.

‘Well you spout all this bull about how us Northsiders spend all our time judging you guys and looking down at you, but you, well you do the same to us.’

‘Y/N now is not the time please lets just go’ Jug whispered in your eyes grabbing your arm trying to get you to his bike. But you pull away and continue.

‘You’re such a hypocrite. Every time I see you around school you’re glaring. You can’t stand to be around people who aren’t from the Southside, but you don’t even take any time to get to know any of us. We’re not all horrible people you know. We don’t all hate you because of where you’re from you know.’ You get closer to him as you speak pointing accusingly at his chest. ‘We aren’t all made of money and good grades, some of us work hard for it so you can piss off with your superiority complex cupcake.’ You finish with a sickly-sweet smile.

You’re barely apart, staring up at him. Both of you are breathing deeply at a loss for words. You stop for a second and for the first time really take in the boy’s face. His brow is furrowed, and you want nothing more that to reach you and smooth it. His eyes are still dark and stare into your soul. The smirk that was still present on his face did not however reach the cold eyes but if you really looked you could see understanding, confusion and hurt? You’re stare morphed into a look of panic.

In different circumstances, you could have admired him forever but as quick as you were there, you were gone. Stepping back from Sweet Pea and turning to Jughead who offered one word to you.

‘Shit’

-----

You weren’t an idiot. You knew the reputation that Sweet Pea held. You noticed how he was never without one bruise or another and how even bulldogs would whimper when he walked past. You were aware what he could do to you so last night after your out of character outburst you ran. You ignored Jughead’s calls behind you, you ignored his phone calls later that night as you were cleaning your hands and you proceeded to ignore the voicemails that were left on your phone.

So, as you walked into school the next day, with bandages around your hands, hood up and headphones in, you wanted nothing more than to be at home. Slipping through the hallway you kept your head down and eyes on the ground dodging people and getting to your locker with no trouble.

As you reached your locker you look up and are met with the kind eyes of Betty who you wondered if she knew about the events of last night. Evidently not as she asked what had happened to your hands. You passed it off as an accident, which it was if you really think about it, but elected to avoid the topic of how it came to be and why you were practically hiding compared to your normal outgoing self.

Your mumbled explanation was cut short as Betty exclaimed, ‘hey don’t look now but one of the serpents is staring you down.’ You froze. Your will to disappear was stronger than any words that may soon be sent your way by him but as you turn your head to confirm your suspicions on who it was, you were surprised to be met with a blank stare rather than one filled with hate.

-----

As the day went on, your overwhelming sense of dread lessened, and you went back to your normal self. You were no longer looking over your shoulder in fear of where the tall serpent was instead focussing on your friends and classes.

Betty, Veronica, and you were sat chatting in the student lounge at lunch that day when Jughead walked in and straight over to you. You quickly scouted the room for any other students and were met with the sight of Toni and Fangs approaching – lucky for you, Sweet Pea seemed to be elsewhere.

‘Y/N, what the hell. Why didn’t you answer me, I was so worried. You should not have left. you know how dangerous it is on the Southside. If something had happened to you what would we have done’ Jughead began ranting and pacing in front of you. You kept your eyes cast downwards ignoring the gazes of your friends which filled with worry as Jug continued. ‘And what were you thinking? You shouldn’t have said that. You really shouldn’t have.’

At that moment, Fangs, who you knew vaguely through your friends interrupted Jug. ‘Wait. You’re the girl who insulted SP?’ You held your breath waiting for the impacts of last night’s events but instead were met with laughter. ‘superiority complex, cupcake’ he choked out between giggles.

‘Damn girl, you must have a lot of guts to go up against Sweet Pea.’ Toni continued.

‘Wait, you insulted Sweet Pea? Do you have a death wish?’ Betty seemed exasperated yet still trying to maintain her cool. You shrugged in response before getting up.

‘Well Beanstalk will probably be here soon and as much as I love being subject to glares and I certainly wouldn’t mind taking the role of Jack and climbing the hell out of him, I think I’m going to head out. Bye guys.’ You say before turning and leaving hearing the distinct laughter and then voice of Fangs in the back – ‘She called him Beanstalk’.

-----

You had finished school for the day and were just heading out ready to walk home when you spotted Sweet Pea by the school entrance. You quickly did a 180 and began heading back to the other end of the corridor but you had already caught his eye and he began following you. While last night you were pent up with anger and had the support of Jughead behind you, now you were alone with no idea how events would play out.

‘Hey, Y/N wait.’ You heard from behind you. There seemed to be no malice in the words, yet it still caused your stomach to turn. ‘Y/N please just wait.’ He was louder now and probably gaining on you so you decided to bite the bullet and turn around.

‘What do you need Sweet Pea. As much as I’m sure you love my company, I do have things to do.’ You try a sweet approach hoping he wasn’t too angry.

‘Got somewhere to be?’ You nod slightly. ‘The exit is that way not this way.’ He had seen you making an escape then. You remain silent. He continues.

‘You’ve made quite a change since last night. What no comeback? Not going to insult me anymore’

‘If that is all you have to say I think it would be better for me to go.’

‘Wait no. Sorry. It is not like me to apologise, I don’t do it, you tell anyone, and you will receive hell princess.’

‘Wow hell of an apology that was.’ you respond sarcastically before turning to walk away again, you were now done with his attitude and all thoughts of what he could do to you were gone.

He looks at your retreating figure quizzically before calling after you. ‘I’m sorry I was a dick okay I just don’t like people coming onto our ground and flaunting their worth to us.’ You cut him off.

‘Flaunting our worth? Flaunting MY worth? You know nothing about me. So, don’t you dare paint me as the bad guy for taking a bloody short cut when walking home. You’re the one who insulted me, I just told you the truth for once in your goddamned life. Accept it, move on.’

He seemed quiet and his response shocked you to the core, almost whispering he apologised once again. ‘I am really sorry. It wasn’t fair on you. I just like to get a rise out of people like you because you’re so different than me. And I knew it would mess with Jughead. I didn’t expect you to respond that way.’

‘I can tell you don’t do this often.’ You respond with a raised eyebrow finally looking him in the eye. ‘Tell you what, let’s just put it behind us, start a fresh. No judgement. But I swear to you if you so much as put a toe out of line, your life will become a nightmare, cupcake.’ You send a quick playful wink his way before walking past him and out the door.

As you reach the school gates you hear his voice again behind you. ‘Wanna go to pops?’

‘Now that is how you apologise.’ You say with a hint of a smile

-----

A month later you were sat next to Sweet Pea, in Pop’s, his hand resting on your thigh and you head leaning on his arm, laughing at something ridiculous Fangs said to the point of tears. Over the month, you had grown to love the group and once you got over the initial awkwardness fit in perfectly. You became Toni’s best friend and Fang’s confidant yet the place you held with Sweet Pea was as confusing to him as it was to you.

You always left him with a kiss on the cheek. Your hugs lingered longer than ‘friends’ should, there was reluctancy to let go. He often found himself playing with your hair. At Friday movie nights, you’d be passed out with your head in his lap by the time the 3rd movie started. And he didn’t move you. He would look down at you with a gentle smile on his face and resume playing with your hair.

It went passed the limitations of ‘friends’. You were more than that. You were like soulmates.

You were pulled out of your thoughts by Fang’s barking a laugh. Reaching up, you rubbed your eyes and gazed around the table looking for something to distract you from the feel of Sweet’s hand on you, his finger tapping a beat.

Your eyes caught Toni’s over the table, and she gave you a knowing look before dragging you up and to the bathroom.

‘What is it T?’ You say

‘You looked like you could use a break from your thoughts, what is it this time? Thinking about the names of yours and Pea’s future children?’ You blush.

‘Toni no! I was just thinking is all. About how we are, how he acts. Just wondering if it’s just me.’ Toni lightly hits the side of your head and responds

‘Of course, it’s just you. Are you blind? Do you want me to go out there and ask him who else he looks at like that or holds like that? Come on girl, get a grip.’

‘Sorry Toni I just worry is all. We’re from different worlds, and we don’t judge each other but people judge us and I just… well I just worry.’ You say looking down. ‘And besides nothing has happened between us so I don’t think I need to start planning the kid’s names yet.’ You say adopting a jokey tone to hide your confusion.

‘But it will, trust me.’ She responded before walking out the bathroom.

-----

And it did.

A few days later at movie night, with Fangs and Toni, you’re leaned up against Sweets, his arm around your shoulders and your head resting on his chest. His fingers were absentmindedly drawing on your back putting you into a hazy, tired state (not surprisingly as it was nearing the end of the 2nd film). Noticing your sleepy state, he leaned down and whispered in your ear, ‘You tired Princess’. The name had now adopted a loving tone as opposed to the one of disdain he originally used with it.

You mumbled out incoherently prompting him to ask again and give your back a light tap – ‘I’m fine cupcake, wide awake.’ You respond still mumbling but enough for him and the others to hear, the use of the nickname causing Toni and Fangs to turn from the movie and giggle before Fangs asks, ‘why do you call him ‘cupcake’ anyway?’

Still half asleep, you turn up to look at Sweets before mumbling, ‘Because he is so sweet, get it?’ Before settling back on his chest and closing your eyes, reaching out to his free hand, and intertwining your fingers nonchalantly.

You heard the laughs and teasing from the others, you felt Sweets grip tighten around your shoulders and his thumb grazing across your knuckles. But with your eyes closed you couldn’t see the look of pure adoration in his eyes and the dusting of pink across his cheeks.

-----

It was at the end of the 4th film of the night that you were woken from your slumber to say goodbye to Toni and Fangs and get ready to leave yourself. You felt cold no longer leaning against Sweets but didn’t want to cross any boundaries by asking to stay the night. Luckily, the decision was made for you.

‘It’s late and I’ve had a couple beers and I don’t want to drive – do you want to crash here?’ You hear from behind you just as you closed the door as Toni left.

‘Are you sure? I don’t want to impose; I can drive myself and bring back the truck in the morning if you want?’

‘Like hell you can drive. You look more tired than you did after you and fangs pulled an all nighter to watch Disney films.’

‘How nice of you,’ you say teasingly approaching him, ‘maybe you don’t deserve the name Cupcake.’

‘No princess I don’t. You should have it!’ He responds.

‘Okay then beanstalk!’ you quickly respond before darting off to his bedroom giggling with him chasing after you.

‘Say you’re sorry and I am not a beanstalk.’ He says cornering you. You quickly mutter back those words looking for an escape. ‘Now say I deserve the name cupcake.’ You didn’t want to admit that so dart past him.

His arm catches you at the last moment and you both fall to the floor giggling. Led next to each other, in that moment, giggling like kids, you had never felt more complete. As your laughter died down and you fell into a comfortable silence, you turned to look at him. He looked content, like all that was happening in the world didn’t matter, just being there with you was enough for him.

‘I could stay in this moment forever you know’, he said in a whisper, too scared to break the silence and too scared to meet your gaze.

‘I don’t know about you, but I think I would be missed.’ You respond, not sure how to deal with his candidness.

‘I’m serious.�� He finally turned his head to look you in the eye. You were closer than ‘friends’ should be and were reminded of the night you met him when you were this close but under different circumstances. In that moment, your lips met. It was a soft kiss, gentle and quick, but it was filled with all the emotions that neither of you could voice. As you pull away, your eyes are filled with adoration that no one could rival.

‘I’ll stay in this moment with you then’

With that you both break into wide smiles and you settle down next to him once again, your head rested on his shoulder.

‘Hey sweets’ you whisper after a couple of minutes silence.

‘yeh princess.’

‘I think you do deserve the name cupcake’

#riverdale #riverdale fanfiction #riverdale imagine #riverdale x reader #riverdale one shot #sweet pea #sweet pea imagine #sweet pea fanfiction #sweet pea x reader #sweet pea one shot #riverdale sweet pea #riverdale fluff #my writing

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thebittyrecoveryjournals · 3 years

Note

I have a few bitties in my home and they're my family, but I recently took in a new one (a Sansy) after a lady at the local post office decided she no longer wanted him. Even though I always make sure he knows he's loved like the others, he has serious separation anxiety and I can barely have a bath without him having a panic attack if I take too long. I love the little guy, and my other three try their best to keep him calm, but it hurts me to see him like this. What can I do to help him?

Hm, he’s a Sansy? A lot of anxiety of any kind is unusual for that type; they’re usually very chill and unbothered.

So, you said this is pretty recent, right? A few weeks, a couple months? It’s possible this is a temporary thing, but separation anxiety in adults can point to an anxiety disorder.

If this goes on for more than six months, I’d suggest making an appointment with a psychologist to see if that might be a possibility. Anxiety disorders going untreated will only result in more and more anxiety, so, if he doesn’t seem to be doing better after the six-month mark, it might be something deeper.

(Obviously I’m always here to make appointments with, but I know there are other psychologists in the area who aren’t Bitty-specific! So if you do need to make an appointment, you can schedule one with me or I can give you a reference to someone else.)

However, separation anxiety in adopted Bitties specifically might be a temporary issue because of new surroundings. Who knows how long his old owner had him? He’s probably used to his old home and is clinging to you because his surroundings now are unfamiliar.

So, for temporary things to try until he feels more comfortable in his new home, I do have a few suggestions!

Sit him down and gently talk to him about the anxiety. Don’t push, but ask if there’s anything in particular that he’s anxious about. (Common scenarios that people with separation anxiety think of include being afraid that he might get hurt, that you might get hurt, etc. anytime you’re away from each other.) Identifying those things might help him understand why he’s getting anxious, and if he understands why, sometimes it’s easier to talk him down by reminders that it’s anxiety, those things aren’t likely to happen.

Relaxation techniques especially if the anxiety involves physical feelings like heart beating faster, erratic breathing, shaking, etc. Some techniques I think might help him are breathing exercises, counting, and interrupting the anxious thoughts. When either of you notice him starting to become anxious, get him to a quiet room to help him practice these things. Breathing exercises are particularly effective when one places a hand on the chest and one on the stomach, takes a slow, regular breath, and watches the way their hands move on their chest and stomach as they breathe. Often focusing on breathing like this can help lessen the physical feelings of anxiety, which can be a huge help. Counting is pretty much what it sounds like ― when the anxiety spikes, have him count out loud to 10. If the anxiety is still there, try another set and have him count to 20. Counting is good because it’ll give him something to focus on other than the anxiety, and it’s a great technique when you’re out and about since it’s easier to do than some of the others. Interrupting the anxious thoughts works in a similar way, to break the train of thought the anxiety is riding on. There are a lot of different ways to do this; breaking out into a silly song or telling jokes, focusing on a better thought (like something he’s looking forward to later or a nice memory), or reading a book.

Keep a routine if you’re able to, or as much of one as you can. Waking up, having meals, and doing outings at the same time every day is one of the best ways to help him feel secure. Once he settles into a routine, it becomes familiar, and he’ll start to relax and feel more comfortable. It also helps to show him that you might leave at a certain time, but you also come back at a certain time. That can be a comforting reminder that might help lessen his anxiety.

Guided exposure and facing the fear. Whatever he tells you he’s afraid will happen is probably not going to happen, but anxiety isn’t logical. So it usually helps quite a bit to actually ‘prove’ that what he fears isn’t going to happen. Now, you definitely don’t want to do this without warning, but after talking to him and reassuring him that you won’t make him do anything he doesn’t want to do, exposure is an incredibly effective way to help gradually lessen the anxiety. Start with little steps, like walking away to the other side of the room and staying there for a few minutes. He’s almost certainly going to experience anxiety, and the idea is for him to ‘sit with’ those distressing feelings and ride them out. Once the anxiety starts to lessen and he feels almost ‘bored’ by it, he can start to understand that his fear isn’t going to come true, because it didn’t happen during the exposure. You can slowly escalate the steps, like going into a different room for a few minutes, leaving the house for a few minutes, etc. etc., until he gets to the point that he can successfully manage his anxiety whenever you’re out of sight.

Imagining exercises, if he’s not quite ready for the exposure. This is similar to the exposure, but instead of actually exposing him to your leaving, you’ll help him through imagining it. As if he’s watching a movie that involves whatever makes him anxious, visualizing it in his mind is sometimes the first step before actual exposure. It’s not a real situation, but it still allows him to experience the anxiety and stay with it until it starts to come down.

Teach your other Bitties some of these techniques, for sure, if they’re willing to learn! Having someone else around who can help, whenever you’re not there, is often a big comfort. He might think you’re the only one who can help him because the separation anxiety is centered around the two of you, but if one of the other Bitties can utilize the techniques you’re using with him, he might feel better about you not being there, because he’s still with someone ‘safe’.

Make use of praise when he successfully gets through an anxious situation! You can praise him, or he can actually give himself some praise. Things along the lines of “I’m proud of you for getting through that” from you or telling himself “I was brave for doing that and I should be proud of myself” or getting a special treat after doing something that made him anxious are powerful tools. Praise often makes people happy and reinforces that whatever they did was positive, motivating them to do it more. Lots of cuddles after a stressful situation also doesn’t hurt!

Being patient even as you try these things is also key. This kind of stuff surrounding lessening his anxiety is a skill, and it takes practice. If the two of you don’t practice it whenever the anxiety crops up, even once he starts to feel better, it’s a ‘use it or lose it’ kind of deal.

You should start to see improvement in a month or two, if this is a temporary situation! If he doesn’t seem to improve in six months, definitely make a psych appointment; separation anxiety after the six-month mark can be indicative of a bigger anxiety disorder, and often medications are the best way to get those under control initially.

Hope this helps! Let me know how things work out. 💚

#anxiety tw #answered #Bittybones #From the Desk of Dr. Lauren Derricks #Bitty advice #psychobabble #Anonymous

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shadowtrooper1414 · 4 years

Text

Ricochet

Hey, guys! I know I don’t post my own stuff often, but I wanted to share this over here for people that may or may not be keeping an eye out for it. This fic was inspired by this post, asked by @rosytheribbiter over on @delimeful‘s page. I’m not entirely sure how I did, so please be nice to me. (Also, if enough people want me to, I’ll make an angstier follow-up that is all from Virgil’s POV)

Ao3 link for those of you who prefer that

Ships: Platonic DRLAMP (but can be read as vaguely romantic) tw: blood, injury, minor swearing, talk of dueling, gross mention of eyeballs (because Remus), sympathetic Remus and Janus - let me know if anything else needs to be tagged!

-----

Being a figment of the mind was a unique thing. Roman, Logan, and Patton had never had long-lasting injuries. Any wounds they did get would vanish sooner rather than later. Most of the time, it didn't even hurt. It made sense for them - they weren't real, after all. Even with eating and drinking water, it was unnecessary. Uncomfortable, if one doesn't do it for a while, yes, but it wasn't required to live. Obviously, at first, the other sides had assumed Virgil was the same as them. However, they noticed certain things about the anxious side, the closer he got to them.

Virgil always took a sharp breath when someone stubbed their toe, or he winced when one of the others grazed the stove. He would hide away when Roman came back from the Imagination with injuries. He kept his hands in his pockets the morning Logan spilled some scalding coffee on himself in a half-asleep state. No amount of coercing could get Virgil to remove his jacket the day after Patton ran his arm into a doorframe, despite the hundred-degree weather.

On top of that, Virgil had always been wary of injury, even when they were kids. It was assumed that it was an Anxiety thing - a Paranoia thing, at the time, really - but the Light Sides were unsure if that was really the case.

It took an unexpected turn one evening. Virgil was busy helping Patton with dinner while Roman was in the Imagination with Remus. Logan had been sitting in the community room reading when he heard a loud crash and a surprised gasp from Patton.

Logan stood quickly, book forgotten, and made his way to the kitchen. When he entered, Patton had corralled an exasperated-looking Virgil into a chair and pulled his jacket off. One sleeve of his purple long-sleeve shirt was slowly turning a dark reddish color, along with a patch on his back.

"Patton, really, I'm fine," Virgil said with an eye-roll.

"Kiddo, you're bleeding!" Patton exclaimed. "You are certainly not 'fine.'"

"What appears to be the problem?" Logan asked, announcing his presence. He eyed Virgil for a few moments. "Do you need any medical attention, Virgil?"

Virgil swore under his breath before pushing himself up, grabbing his jacket from the table. One hand was pressed firmly to his stomach. "I'll be fine. Just... I need some space."

Logan gently grabbed Virgil's arm as he tried to brush past. "Are you sure you are alright, Virgil?"

Virgil seemed to not process Logan for a second, as if he hadn't even noticed him before, then shot him a smirk. "Sure am, L." He carefully pulled his arm away before continuing to the stairs, which he half-stumbled up.

Logan looked to Patton with a raised eyebrow. Patton furrowed his brow, exceedingly concerned.

"Should we check on him?" Patton asked.

Logan paused for a few moments. "I'm... unsure."

-----

Later that evening, Roman came back from the Imagination, Remus in tow. Both were boasting about the "epic" duel they'd had with each other. It took a few minutes of no questions from Patton, and no statements about the event's absurdities from Logan before either twin realized something was wrong.

"What's up, Padre, nothing to congratulate us on?" Roman asked, vaguely teasing.

Patton blinked, then shot Roman a half-grin. "Sorry, just thinking about this dueling day!"

Logan let out a groan while Roman furrowed his brow. "Dueling - like... grueling?"

"Yeah, not my best, but..." Patton trailed off to shrug. He shook his head. "Anyway, who won in your duel?"

"I got impaled, so technically, Romano Cheesy over here won," Remus said, shouldering Roman a bit roughly. Roman winced a bit.

"Yeesh, careful with that shoulder," Roman half-whined. "You can't even remember that you mercilessly slammed your mace on it."

"Whoopsie, my bad," Remus said unapologetically.

Throughout the exchange, Logan shot Patton a careful look. Patton furrowed his brow, then looked to the twins.

"You two... got hurt?"

"Yeah, but it was no big deal," Roman said. "They're already gone."

"Can't say the same for ol' Virgie, though," Remus said, sounding a bit unhinged. A heavy silence fell over the room before Remus said. "Hey Calculator Watch, pass me those eyes. I want to put them in my pasta."

"Eyes..?" Logan asked, gazing at the table where there were, indeed, eyes. An entire jar of them. Unperturbed, Logan slid the container across the table. "Remus, what did you mean by 'can't say the same for Virgil?'"

Remus hummed distractedly, pouring the eyes all over his spaghetti. "What? Oh, it's nothin'. Don't mind me."

Roman shot Logan a puzzled glance. Logan shook his head and mouthed, "Later." Roman shrugged, seemingly satisfied with that. Logan, however, was starting to string together the pieces of this worrying picture.

When Virgil came down, his shoulders tense and back slouched, Logan very carefully kept his questions and thoughts to himself.

-----

Logan decided to confront Janus about it at a later date. It took a while before he could get the tricky side alone, and the answers he got... weren't exactly straight - pun completely unintended, Patton.

"I was wondering about Virgil," Logan had started one early morning - it was before even Patton got up.

"Do not go on," Janus had replied, putting together a hot cup of tea. "I just hate sharing things about people."

Logan waited a few moments, cataloging every strange event involving injuries and Virgil. "You noticed it too, have you not? The way he hides after one of us gets hurt, or when he covers up his reaction to a minor cut or burn. Even in the way he is wary about injuries, it is... strange. And I feel like it means something."

Janus hummed softly, sipping his tea. "Well, it is not the first thing he has hidden from you three, I will give him that." He side-eyed Logan. "Why do you ask?"

"The other day, during dinner preparations, he fled the kitchen after suffering from two large wounds that could not have come from anything in the kitchen."

"And why do you think I would know what is wrong?" Janus asked.

Logan hesitated. "You... knew Virgil. Before he came to us. He had to have trusted you at some point - more than he trusts us, at least."

"Well, he's definitely not doing it because he's concerned about you," Janus deflected. "I would most certainly ask, he'd love that."

Logan sighed. "I suppose you are right, Janus. I am simply... worried about him."

Janus let out a slow breath through his nose. "Logan, let Virgil come to you. He will, in time."

Logan nodded despite his frustration with that answer. There was some shuffling from the hall before Virgil entered. He looked halfway between bewildered and exhausted. He gently bumped Logan's shoulder before resting his chin over it.

Virgil gazed at Janus carefully before closing his eyes. "Hey, L. Jan. What're you two talking about?"

"Oh, you know, the sky, space, the ozone layer," Janus said. He looked at Logan. "This was definitely not a pleasant chat, Logan, I most certainly did not enjoy it. I would hate to have another one sometime." With that, he half-sashayed out of the room. Logan watched him go, contemplating his non-answers.

"Did he bug you about anything, Lo?" Virgil asked sleepily.

"Not at all," Logan said. "I had been the one to seek him out. I had some questions for him, is all."

Virgil hummed, leaning further into Logan. "As long as he didn't bother you."

Logan smiled softly at Virgil. "Of course." He continued about his morning with Virgil literally half-asleep on his shoulder the whole time. He supposed he could postpone his investigation for a little while.

-----

The next couple of weeks passed, and Logan cataloged every out-of-place behavior Virgil exhibited when one of the others were injured. A burn here and there from Patton, some bruises from the twins adventuring in the Imagination. There was even a paper cut from Logan at some point - Logan had only seen it for a few moments, and it could have easily been dismissed. However, it had been too similar to the one he had gotten.

The next time Logan was able to document a significant injury, however, was an average Sunday afternoon. Roman and Virgil were cuddled close on the couch, debating about something or another when Remus and Janus entered, the latter limping.

Patton immediately jumped up from his place on the floor, concern on his face. "Janus is everything alright?!"

"Everything is just fine," Janus drawled, face set in a grimace. "Absolutely nothing happened."

"He fell down the stairs in the Subconscious while we were checking on the Other," Remus noted cheerfully. He plopped himself down next to Virgil. "Twisted an ankle. It'll fade eventually but probably hurts like a bitch."

Logan noticed Virgil glance down at his own ankle and wince. The anxious side cleared his throat and made to stand.

"It's getting kind of late, I should go to bed," Virgil said conspicuously.

"It's 2 PM," Janus deadpanned, moving to the couch. He gently pushed Virgil back onto the sofa, to which Virgil glared at him. "You will be going to your room."

Remus leaned into Virgil, grinning when Virgil grimaced. "Awe, c'mon, Virgie! It'll be like old times!"

"Yeah, sure," Virgil said, rolling his eyes.

Logan gently cleared his throat, drawing the attention of the three not-quite-bickering sides and the confused Light Sides. "Virgil, if I may..?" He carefully gestured to Virgil's ankle.

Virgil tensed, going pale, before looking to Janus. When Janus nodded and moved to sit on the couch armrest, Virgil sighed and rolled up his pant leg. The ankle was slowly swelling to a dark purple color.

Roman furrowed his brow. "Virgil, did you get hurt?"

"Not... exactly?" Virgil asked more than answered. He heaved a breath, fisting his hands in the sleeves of his hoodie. "More like... I took Janus's injury? I'm used to it, though. It's been happening since Thomas was a kid, so it's really no big deal. When any of you get hurt, it... ricochets to me." His voice had gotten tight and quiet near the end, and Virgil was hunching into himself. "I can deal with it myself - I usually do. Well, I did." He shot Janus and Remus a meaningful look.

Logan hummed. "So it is as I thought, then." At Virgil's surprised look, he continued. "Those few weeks ago, when you were seemingly injured out of nowhere, I decided to... try looking into it. As best as I could, anyway. I did my best not to pry into anything personal."

"Virgil, why didn't you tell us?" Patton said, seeming to just now find his voice.

"I... didn't want to make you worry," Virgil mumbled.

"You very much did not succeed," Roman said, tone gentle despite his words.

Logan stood. "If you would allow us to assist you, I will go get the first aid kit from the bathroom."

Virgil hesitated before sighing with a nod.

"Oh, I'll go bake some cookies while Logan patches you up, kiddo!" Patton exclaimed, quickly racing to the kitchen.

"Hey, RoRo, let's build an epic blanket fort," Remus said, jumping up from the couch. Roman quickly followed him, setting up the furniture so the fort would have good structural integrity.

Still perched on the couch's armrest, Janus shot Virgil a smirk. "Totally didn't tell you so."

Virgil ducked his head, face flushing. "Shuddup." And maybe lowering his head also allowed him to hide the soft smile on his face.

And that's how Virgil ended up in the middle of a cuddle pile, ankle bandaged and iced, with a Disney movie marathon running for the night.

#sanders sides #virgil sanders #logan sanders #sympathetic remus #sympathetic janus #tw: injury #tw: blood #platonic all the way #fake-title inspired #fluff #janus sanders #remus sanders #roman sanders #patton sanders #tiny bit of angst #might come back to this later

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finding-hope-strength-courage · 4 years

Text

My Life With Anxiety #1 - 05/01/2021

*Warning Long Post!

Tonight I thought I’d write a post about my experience with anxiety during my life. This is obviously only my experience and anxiety is different for all who suffer with it.

It’s difficult to say when I began suffering with anxiety because I probably didn’t even know what it was or recognise the feelings I was having were caused by anxiety. As a young child - pre secondary school I don’t remember worrying particularly day to day but I think there were some signs if I was to try and really dig deep.

Something I do recall from being a young child was I did develop a fear of people dying from a young age after losing my mum. I’m unsure of my exact age but it would have been between the ages of 6-11 because my Granny sadly died shortly after my 11th birthday. I remember during the night if I woke and needed to go to the toilet on my way back I would stop for a few seconds and make sure I could hear my Granny breathing in her bed. I mean it sounds bizarre in my head now because I’m not actually sure what prompted this behaviour but I guess I felt I needed to check she was okay before I went back sleep - I never told her I did this. I guess you could say this is a form of anxiety - I was worried about something happening to her and clearly felt some responsibility for making sure she was okay.

Of course these behaviours don’t appear all that strange given my early life experiences. My experiences told me that people I love died and so I clearly knew this could happen. As I got older I’d say I maybe became more concerns with friendships and hated falling out with people or upsetting them. This was definitely true during secondary school and actually has never really changed as still to this day I worry far too much in case I’ve said something wrong or upset anyone! When there were friendship dilemmas between people I hated feeling like I needed to take a side (if it wasn’t me that was part of the fall out of course). I just wanted to please everyone and stay friends. This was difficult and so often I’d just remove myself from the situation and spend time alone - I’d sit somewhere alone and listen to music or go to the school library and do homework instead. This was better than conflict for me.

I did develop some anxiety around exams during school but this only really became noticable at the end of Year 10 I’d say. I think because there was extra pressure of GCSE coursework too it just got on top of me. I usually managed to get through the exams and actually would do better than I thought I had anyway! I always came out of any exam saying I’d done rubbish or probably failed, even if I thought I may have done okay (which wasn’t often). It was easier to tell myself I hadn’t done well because then if I hadn’t I wouldn’t be as disappointed. I got through my GCSEs and A Levels at school and did well for me, I mean I was never a straight A student but I put all my effort into revising and working hard. So I did well for me and got the grades I needed. I always found it frustrating that there were people who didn’t appear to work that hard but would still do so well. If I hadn’t have worked as hard as I did I’d have failed most subjects.

It’s difficult to talk about my anxiety without mentioned my OCD but I do want to write about this in a separate post because obviously it’s an anxiety disorder but I feel like I have general anxiety and OCD so they manifest in different ways and different times in my life. I first noticed OCD tendencies when I went to University. I became obsessed with worrying about leaving the light on in my room or making sure I’d locked the door. I would film myself turning out the lights and locking the door when I went home for the weekend so I could check if I was worried. I also was so worried about people leaving the hob on in the shared kitchen that when I knew they’d all gone out or to their rooms I’d go in and check. I’ll probably write about my struggles with OCD another time but feel it makes sense to mention it here because during that year at University that my Dad sadly and suddenly died.

I would say my Dad’s death was probably the event in my life that really set my anxiety off because although it was clearly there beforehand in various ways and the emergence of some OCD traits too, it was almost still under the surface and fairly manageable I’d say. After my Dad’s death I just felt anxious full stop, I think the suddenness of it all was just so scary and then the emptiness that he’d just gone. I’d always known people to get ill and die but because it just happened with no warning it just made realise that anything can happen in life. Obviously it taught me some good lessons too like how short life is and to make the most of every day etc and I do try to always do that regardless of my own struggles.

The months that followed my Dad’s death are difficult to remember that clearly now but I remember just feeling a bit lost and scared. It’s hard to explain now as it’s been nearly 10 years but I was just so worried. As the years went by I became more anxious of most things in life to be honest, but it didn’t actually stop me doing them. As in I managed to keep living and doing the things I enjoyed but just feeling anxious about them too. I studied for my degree with The Open University in the 3 years that followed my Dad’s death and this was brilliant for me. I had a hard time adjusting to University and had already decided to leave before my Dad died. Doing my degree from home worked perfectly for me, I didn’t need help being motivated to study and do the work as I have always loved learning so almost enjoyed it more reading textbooks and writing assignments. I guess I was in control of my studies abs study schedule. I realise many would find this way of studying difficult but it worked for me.

I was still anxious during these years. Driving became an issue I was always worried about doing something wrong and OCD quickly became a big issue with this (I will write about this another time). It’s difficult to remember exactly how things were back then as it’s been a few years but I know I was anxious and just scared I think of what might happen. Almost on edge the whole time ready just in case something went wrong in life.

I did take medication for my anxiety for nearly 5 years I think. It took me a long time to actually go to the doctors and do this but I did. It’s difficult to say whether it helped or not, I think it did in someways but not others. The worries were still there it didn’t fix my mind but I guess it helped it become more manageable at times. For me personally I wouldn’t go on medication again as I don’t feel it did enough for me but I know it’s different for everyone and for some people it helps so much. I decided to come off it before my Husband and I started trying for a baby. I did get withdrawal symptoms when I came off it, not in terms of my mental health feeling worse but more I felt physically not well. It was hard to actually say how I felt , I described it as kind of dizzy / wobbly and my head felt funny but not an actual headache. I was tired too but just didn’t feel great. Again it’s different for everyone but for me coming off them was tough because I absolutely hate feeling ill.

Since then my anxiety I would say has been okay in terms of I feel positive about it and although it’s never actually gone away I feel I’ve copied fairly well. Being pregnant was tough because I worried about every little thing but thankfully all was fine and I couldn’t be more grateful to have our little girl, she changed my life in the best way. I have a fear of hosptials in general, which I think stems from visiting my mum as a young child on ICU, so going into hospital to give birth was so scary even before it started! Becoming a new mum was obviously a massive learning curve as it is for anyone and I was worried about everything and probably still am!

I felt quite proud of myself (which is rare) for how I managed the first months becoming a mum but obviously then with the news of Coronavirus it definitely just made me so anxious. I was worried about it before most people even realised it was happening I think! I was premature in my fears compared to most I guess. I remember the first cases in the UK even though it was like less than 10 at that point!

I think for me having Anxiety, becoming a New Mum and then The Pandemic was obviously a recipe for me to become a bit overwhelmed with my worries. I don’t think I’ve really relaxed in nearly a year now since I first started hearing about the virus on the news. Despite this I actually think for me I’ve coped pretty well, unfortunately my OCD now is more about germs and washing my hands far too much whereas originally it started with checking things but I guess it’s my way of feeling like I’m doing what I can to keep me and my family safe. Being the kind of person I am I’ve made sure to follow the rules which I believe are incredibly important as I do believe we all need to do our bit and I get anxious knowing and seeing others breaking them but I know that’s life and people do have different views on things.

I’ve had to stop watching and reading the news at times because that is the worst thing for my anxiety. Seeing pictures of hosptials and reading figures terrifies me and also breaks my heart too. I do look sometimes when I feel able to without becoming overwhelmed by it. I do just find it so scary. I know other people who maybe don’t usually have anxiety feel just as scared by it all so I guess my feeling on this are justified. It’s a Global Pandemic I guess it’s understandable to be worried about it all.

I think the difference for me is that it’ll take me time to adjust back to how things were before. I’ve almost been grateful for the lockdowns and restrictions in some ways because then I feel I can follow them and keep safer but I guess then you get used to that and feel secure in your own bubble and way of doing things. When restrictions were lifted over the summer and into autumn we did do some things like some trips out to places for our little girl which was so lovely and seeing some family and friends too. Mostly outdoors because that’s where I’ve felt more comfortable but we did meet indoors with some people on a few occasions (when it was permitted) after a bit of pressure and feeling judged for still being worried and wanting to be more careful (or they would have seen it as over cautious). Some hurtful comments were made about my mental health which I won’t go into now but it’s affected me and I guess I’ve been seeing myself as not doing well enough or needing to be “fixed” since then - despite actually thinking I’ve copied pretty well with it all! It’s complicated and I won’t go into it now but the funny thing is when I feel judged it actually makes my anxiety worse for some reason? Like I then feel I need to work harder to not be anxious which makes it stronger.

I’m going to stop now but this is just a bit about my anxiety, there’s a lot more to it than just what’s written here. I know there are people out there who struggle more than I do and I do hope they have people to support and listen to them. For me I would love to be more open about it (I do have some people who I can be which I’m so grateful for) but once I feel judged for being a bit different I guess I then feel like I have to change who I am and hide part of myself if that makes sense. Then I feel awkward because I’m overly aware of my behaviour and what I say in case I come across anxious or they say something more about it.

I hope mental health and anxiety becomes better understood and less judged in the future. I know we’ve made a lot of progress on this since I was younger but I do think there’s still stigma out there and judgement and the view that it can just be fixed. I believe I will always have anxiety or be an anxious person but I hope to keep learning how to cope with it better and that I find ways so that it doesn’t limit me in life - that doesn’t mean it just disappears though.

Just some of my thoughts on the topic, probably a lot of waffle but I enjoy making sense of the thoughts in mind, goodnight world and stay safe.

** I should have mentioned that I have had counselling a few times over the years and I’ve always found this incredibly helpful and for me it’s offered a lot of support and allowed me to explore my feelings and life in more depth and understand and accept myself more.

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mosaicofdreamsanddragons · 4 years

Text

Born of Denial (A Clone’s Tale)

Link on to this on ao3: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27074746

His first memories was of the leftover destruction that had once been some sort of threat. The original, his creator, was talking fast to a girl beside him. Mei supplied memories that were not his. Something about a new training regimen which would take a while, and not to expect him back. Then he’d hopped off. To go train under the black monkey whispered his not-memories.

Hmm, he couldn’t quite put his finger on it but he had a bit of a problem with that. Something niggled at his memories. No, that was an understatement. This jarring feeling of unease was only dwarfed by the all-consuming need to chill that he was sure he’d been created from. Against his inborn nature to let things play out of their own accord, he grabbed his retreating original’s arm and opened his mouth and struggle for a bit to get language down. “Danger,” he finally managed to get out.

“I’ve never seen one do that before!” said Mei. “Is that normal?”

“I don’t know what to tell you,” said his creator to him. “But the danger’s gone.”

The time it took his creator to say that did such wonder for his vocal cords that he suspected magic was behind it. It did not, however, grant him eloquence or persuasion and further discussion on the matter proved to be futile. Actions also failed to sway his creator, who just shrugged off his newly born clones incessant tugging and bounced off to train with the suspicious monkey. Leaving said clone alone struggling with how to handle this leftover unease, which was clearly not his because he’d been born from the desire to chill. Clearly.

As per his not-memories instructions, he goes about the original’s day. And those wiggling anxieties don’t bother him at all because he’s the master of calm nonchalance, if he does say so himself. For evidence of his mastery over baseless fears, look no further than the reactions of the others… Mei takes him to an arcade and he manages to smile in the crowded place where there is nowhere to hide…from how cool he looks! Yep! That’s it. That’s all that’s going on.

And he’s not relieved at all when Mei decides they should head home after only one round of their game or that she walks him home to his apartment. They play video games on his couch while she texts something on her phone to… Sandy he thinks, given the cat emojis. He can’t make out anything else. He’s too busy checking the window and doors to make sure they are secure because it might be cold tonight.

The next day Pigsy greets him with a, “My kitchen is a mess. You’re on dishes.” He gets to work, periodically glancing up to watch those who come in. He would have merely listened for entries but he can barely make out what Pigsy and Mr. Tang are saying and they’re barely on the other side of the room.

“….bit of mindless work all he needs.” Says Pigsy.

Mr. Tang reply is nearly unintelligible. “something-something- Sandy.”

He watches as Pigsy moves off. Is he making the deliveries today? Mr. Tang takes the opportunity to swoop over to the counter and regale him with a Monkey King story. Mr. Tang does this sometimes, his not-memories whisper. He ignores them because he doesn’t want to have the story spoiled for him. He still watches the door but now its for Mr. Tang’s sake (and his own if Pigsy caches him).

Sandy shows up next. Mo in tow. Mr. Tang waves him and his tea pot (how was that boiling he was literally carrying it) over and proceeds to tell another story while Sandy placed Mo down. Immediately the cat jumped on the counter and started nudging at the clone doing the dishes.

He stared at Mo. Mo stared at him. Slowly he reaches one hand out and rubs it down Mo’s back. Mo purrs. Red Son does not burst in. The mysterious monkey does not come in. Even Pigsy does not come in. The boy feels himself smile. Everything was fine.

He doesn’t notice Mr. Tang’s story drop off, or see the look that passes between the two older men.

He does hear Mei and Pigsy burst in. He’s on his feet in an instant but Pigsy doesn’t even scold him for slacking off. All he says is, “We’ve got trouble.”

Upon seeing the bull demon minions he wants to scream, “I WAS RIGHT!” to the stars above. The only reason he didn’t was he knew that wouldn’t be very chill of him. Still he can’t contain the elation that comes with being proven right. He knew something was wrong, he knew it. Even the original didn’t see it but he did!!! Mei takes his elation as battle confidence and laughs. Together they lunge at the approaching demon bull minions.

It doesn’t work.

He wracks his not-memories for answers and tries again.

It doesn’t work.

He doesn’t understand. These are small fry. He takes these out all the time.

It doesn’t work. It doesn’t work. It doesn’t work. It doesn’t work. It doesn’t work. It doesn’t work. It doesn’t work.

Its Pigsy who drags him away from the battle. Mr. Tang is already driving the truck. Sandy had Mei.

It didn’t work. He threw everything he had at it and it wasn’t enough. There is nothing he can do.

Except wait for the original.

He suddenly becomes aware of his breathing. It was fast. He’s squished into Pigsy’s truck, between the door and Pigsy himself. He can just make out the demon bull minions as they pull away. They have a light blue afterglow.

Pretty.

He reaches deep into himself and pulls out the emotion he was built on, drawing it over himself like a shield. There was fear there, always had been. But he was made to relax in the face of danger. He could do this. It’s like looking thought a veil at the world.

He blinks into reality. Pigsy is upset. But his words don’t really reach him. They are thrown from side to side by Mr. Tang’s bad driving. He lets himself move with the car. It’s just like a ride at an amusement park.

The practically slam into the docks and catch air as they move onto Sandy’s boat. Neat.

He feels Pigsy pull him out of the car and half stumbles after him. He hears Mr. Tang rev the engine again and pull the truck behind some crates. He sees Sandy cradling an unconscious Mei in front of him. Pigsy’s incessant pulling draws him into the elevator and the smell of five sweaty bodies choke him until they are finally able to exit into the secret base.

The secret base is cool. Colorful gadgets he’s only really seen used in not-memories cover the walls. He really wants to explore, but he’s guided to the tv area. Mei is placed on the couch by Sandy before he runs off to find something. Pigsy place the boy at the edge and holds up his fingers. “How many fingers am I holding up kid?”

There are three. “Three,” he replies.

Pigsy lets his fingers drop and starts checking him over for something. Sandy materializes next to them and starts bandaging Mei. Huh. He hadn’t noticed she was bleeding. Pigsy starts adding bandages to him too.

The three adults are talking over him. “The kids will need time to recover…”

“Someone should stay with them. The other two might be able to do something with the tech in here.”

“Maybe we should wait for the kids to wake up….we’ll have time to rest and plan and we can go in as a team…”

Mei stirred. Good. She’d be able to show him around. That would be fun.

She does not get to show him around the base. When she’s able to move she’s mainly talking to the others about the plan of attack. He wanders the base by himself until one of them corrals him back to the main team.

They end up going out again. And again. And again. Each time they bring out some of the tech from their hide out, and every time it fails. He wonders if they are supposed to be learning something from all of this. But when he voices his musing, Mr. Tang only sighs.

“I don’t know what to tell you. It’s the only plan we’ve got.”

Its Pigsy who insists on going out again and again. Every time they get out there he tries to get to the shop. They never make it. And every time the return he shrugs off whatever injury he has and goes to grab the next weapon on the wall. And every time its Sandy who stops him with a nod to the rest of the group.

Every time, they are a sorry sight. Mei is almost always injured; always the first to throw herself into battle. Mr. Tang fares poorly as well, often a result of covering for someone. Sandy takes the most damage from carrying one or more of their unconscious bodies to safety.

Pigsy takes more damage than any of them, save Mei, but that doesn’t stop him. Nothing stops him. Nothing but the sight of his injured companions and Sandy’s quite “I don’t know what to tell you, but we need to rest.”

There is exhaustion in Pigsy’s eyes.

The boy, on the other hand, is fine. He doesn’t do well in fights but, since he’s mastered the art of chill, it’s not like it bothers him anymore. And yeah, the headband and jacket attract trouble but Mr. Tang always pulls him out. And sure, Mr. Tang sarcasm output is directly proportional to the times he’s pulled the boy from death’s door but it’s not like he can solve that problem. Things he cannot control he doesn’t worry about. Not a bit.

After the same old song and dance with Sandy talking Pigsy down from running off on “Patrol” again, they settle into their down time activities. For the boy this means chilling on the couch and pretending the tv works. Or wandering around the base for the umpteenth time. Or trying to make a tower out of all the discarded and broken weapons. Today he sits on the couch next to Mei and tries to pretend the game system is running. It would be a survival game. One of those post apocalypse ones.

Sandy heads up to fish once he’s sure no one needs medical attention and Pigsy isn’t going to run off again. They are low on food. Which may sound bad but how big of a problem is it really if none of them are in the mood for food? Sandy never heeds this logic and instead risks daily visits to the surface for fish with only Mo to stand watch. The cat, at least, enjoys the daily fish surplus.

Mei spends her down time as she always does, staring at her phone. It’s a pointless endeavor, he knows, the bull demon minions were careful to get any transmitter and effectively downed the internet and cell service. They even went after old fashioned phone lines and radio transmitters. But Mei doesn’t stop hitting redial and a recording plays the line “I’m sorry we were unable to reach the number you dialed” over and over again.

Mr. Tang stands before the monitor, watching the destruction. Buildings destroyed, people screaming they couldn’t make it in time to help, movements of bull demon minions they can’t stop all broadcasted to the rest of the hideout. The boy had learned to tune it out, same as with Mei’s redials.

When unable to go back out on “patrol,” Pigsy often sorts through the weapons in the area for something they can use next time. He used to cook but they ran out of noodles two days ago. Used the last spices the day before that. Yesterday they ate the last of their vegetables. So today all cooking waits until Sandy brings ingredients up from the ocean. Without any food to prepare, Pigsy can only sort though the pile of broken weapons for something that might have survived their last encounter with the enemy.

Each sound from the monitor makes Pigsy tense. The screams make him flinch. The destruction makes him drop whatever he’s holding roughly back onto the ground. His shoulders are hunched and his hands are shaking.

A sudden explosion from the monitor makes them all jump. Or rather it makes the boy jump, Mei just glance up from her phone before dropping her head again to hit redial. Pigsy rises from what he’s doing and stocks over to Mr. Tang. “Stop it or let me go out again,” he almost growls.

Instead of snapping back with a sarcastic quip Mr. Tang just glances up from the monitor and says quietly, “We are going to have to leave.”

“Yeah, that’s what I’ve been saying…” begins Pigsy but Tang cuts him off.

“I mean we are going to have to relocate our base.”

“Why?” says Sandy, stepping out of the elevator, smelling of fish. “We are doing pretty good here, as far as supplies go.” He holds up his catch of the day. Which they will eat without vegetables or spices or noodles. They are even down to their last teabag.

Mr. Tang doesn’t answer. Instead turns from the group and pulls up images on the monitor. Videos of demon bull king minion attacks in their area spring up. There is nothing unusual about that.

“Over the past few days,” says Mr. Tang. “They have been more and more sightings around our area. And those sightings almost all happen mere moments after we have left. I don’t think that’s a coincidence. They are hunting us, and they are getting closer.”

There is silence in response only to be broken by “The number you are trying to reach…” from Mei’s phone. She isn’t looking at it but the sound echoes over the room.

“We could try my parent’s house,” she whispers, but they all hear her fine. “Just until things cool down.”

No one replies for a moment.

“That’s an option,” Mr. Tang begins carefully. “And could be really helpful for a while but…”

“…but we’ll need a way to get there that’s undetectable,” says Pigsy quickly. “Something they won’t recognize. Like my truck.”

“How is your truck unrecognizable?” snaps Mr. Tang. Pigsy looks at him and flicks his eyes to Mei who has turned her attention back to her phone.

“We could paint it!” says Sandy quickly. “A fresh coat of paint would do the old girl some good!”

Mei perks up at that, glancing up from her phone again. “Let’s paint it green!”

Pigsy raises his hands up to ward off imaginary painters. “Now hold up,” he says. “This is my truck, and I say if we are going to do this, we are going to do this in colors that I like.”

“I have a can of orange?” said Sandy. He pulls his fingers up and ticks off imaginary paint buckets. “And black and blue, and maybe a bit of yellow.”

“Green!” says Mei, her phone dropping from her hand onto the couch.

“How about a design?” say Mr. Tang turning to her and the boy. “Something out of one of your video games, the ones with the spiky outfits.”

“Why don’t we wait until we see what Sandy has?” says Pigsy and motions for the others to follow him and Sandy. As they troop towards the elevator Pigsy leans over and loudly whispers, “Please, for the love of everything, tell me you don’t have that much yellow.”

Sandy, it turns out, does not have a lot of yellow. He barely has any at all. Undeterred, Mei tears apart Sandy’s arts and crafts supplies to see if she can find more. The rest of them find themselves staring at the truck contemplating its future makeover.

“What’s the most inconspicuous design we have?” says Mr. Tang fiddling with his glasses. “Should we draw a bull demon minion on it and let them think it’s one of theirs?”

“This is my truck,” mutters Pigsy, “And I’m not putting an enemy logo on it!”

“What if we tried subtly expressing our anger through signs that they might not be familiar with?” Sandy says. He runs his fingers through his beard. “I took a few art classes for therapy and I know a thing or two about symbols with hidden meaning.”

“Well then make something to do with noodles and down with the demon bull king,” Pigsy says with a wave of his hand. He moves closer to the truck as if surveying a design. “And I’m not all that great with art so you make the lines and I’ll fill in.”

Sandy gets to work. Pigsy joined in and Mr. Tang follows. But not before placing a brush in the hand of the watching boy.

He slowly joined in. It’s more fun than fake video games.

He didn’t notice how Mr. Tang took the opportunity to slip away once the boy was immersed in his craft. Didn’t notice how he started loading food, water, and blankets into the back of the truck. He was too busy following the lines Sandy drew and trying not to (not) splash paint on Pigsy.

Mei burst out of the boat with a shout that made them all flinch. Paint got everywhere, seagulls flew off, and Mr. Tang dropped the pillows he’d been loading into the truck. Mei seemed to realize what she’d done and covered her mouth. There were a few moments of tense silence.

The seagulls settled back on the ship.

Mei pulled her hand from her mouth and whispered loudly, “I’ve got the best idea!” And she held up her hands, which, he now realized, were full of spikes. “We can get outfits to match the truck!”

The adults exchanged glances. New clothes would be nice, but none of them had any on the boat. Except for Sandy of course. “With what?” said Mr. Tang, side eyeing Sandy.

“With this!” said Mei. “A little work on these old spiked armor and we could get it to fit us! It’ll be an apocalypse makeover! And the best part is we get to feel like we’re in new clothes without actually having to be in new clothes!”

She handed the spikes, which the boy could now see were attached to shoulder pads, over to Pigsy. Then she went running back in to return with belts and goggles.

They ended up leaving later than planned. No one cared. Mei was laughing again, excitedly trying to get their costumes to mimic her favorite video game characters.

And he would be lying if he didn’t say he joined in. He wandered next to her and provided second opinions on the costumes. And first opinions. This was his apocalypse game too. Pigsy let them put the smidge of yellow paint onto his face. Mr. Tang accepted an ammunition belt. Sandy didn’t even argue when they gave him a shirt.

But when it was his turn to get dolled up he took one look at the red headband Mei was wearing and said, “No thanks, I’m good.”

“C’mon!” she said. “You can’t just dress everybody up and then not dress up yourself!”

He looked at the red headband she had tied around her head.

In the game that was done to honor the dead.

“No,” he said. “I’ll pass.” And he stomps into the truck. He can hear Pigsy telling Mei not to press him but he doesn’t care. He doesn’t care. The original isn’t dead. He can’t be.

When the others crowd in the good mood from moments before has evaporated. Pigsy drives.

In hindsight they should have seen this coming.

“Pigsy this is the way back to the shop,” says Mr. Tang.

Pigsy’s shoulders rise up. “So what?”

“So the point is to avoid suspicion!” snaps Mr. Tang.

“I’m driving and it’s my shop, we’re going to pass by it!”

“We’ll just draw more attention to ourselves!!!”

“How about some tea?” says Sandy producing a teapot from nowhere.

“Stay out of this!” they both growl. Sandy’s teapot vanishes.

The boy fights the urge to stick his hands over his ears. It’s fine. He can handle this. He’s chill. Everything is chill. Out of the corner of his eye he can see Mei gripping her phone. She hits a familiar button again.

He takes a breath and counts the seconds for the familiar message. One to dial. Two to dial. Three to dial.

The phone clicks.

The car is so still they can all hear the voice of two worried people through the phone. Mei drops it, and fumbles around. Tang finds it and wordlessly hands it over, fight forgotten. Mei grabs it and holds it up to her ear.

“Hi Mom, Dad.” Mei says in a happy voice, but the tears in her eyes make it come out thickly.

Pigsy keeps driving in the direction of the shop. No one comments on it.

Mei is done talking by the time they reach a familiar street. Bull demon minions crawl all over Pigsy’s pride and joy, and some poor kid is standing right int front of them. Some poor kid with an orange jacket and red headband…

Mei, Pigsy, and Sandy are out of the car in a flash. He’s to stunned to move so he waits inside with Mr. Tang.

The others explain the situation to his baffled creator. When he turns his attention to him wondering why he couldn’t prevent all this he just shrugs. There really is only one thing to say: “I don’t know what to tell you guy.”

MK feels the rush of memories flood in him, but they are blurred. His boy hadn’t really been paying attention to the details. So instead he asks for clarification. “What happened?”

Mr. Tang tells a tale that gives meaning to the images that his boy left in his brain. Also the deep aching fear leaking through shields of denial. Well no need to fear. The Monkie kid was here to save the day. For the sake of everyone. And for the sake of his boy.

#monkie kid #lego monkie kid #monkie kid clone #Monkie kid Mei #long xiaojiao #Pigsy #Sandy #Mr. Tang #Mo the cat #my fic

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transbionic-shieldmaiden · 4 years

Text

a really long post about my stupid HRT adventure

cw medical stuff, tumors.

context: there was a post about getting on HRT that I read but I decided this was too personal to go in a reblog. donut rebagel, but feel free to reply.

ohhhh man, so like obviously i’m glad other people have had a better time than I when it comes to getting on hrt but i really gotta rant about the issues i had, because I had a hell of a time getting it DESPITE NOT ACTUALLY RUNNING INTO GATEKEEPING. so, story time:

this got long, so have a read more.

So I have executive dysfunction, which I cannot recommend. For me at least it comes in a package deal with a bunch of plasticbrains things I’m very much a fan of (stims! hyperfocus! being trans!), but I’d still very much like to not deal with it. And I also have social anxiety. Which overall is not a great combination of issues for dealing with the medical system.

Case in point: figuring out I’m trans was the catalyst for getting me to actually seek therapy (at MIT medical, which -- sidenote -- is free for students and I can’t recommend them highly enough), but what this actually meant was I took basically an entire semester to make the phone call to get an appointment, which was scheduled for a month after the call*. So far so great.

Anyway, as my therapy continued I kept coming in and complaining about dysphoria and being like “man i wish i could start hrt! but i won’t, because that involves talking to strangers :(” and eventually my therapist was like “so like. regular medical, which can prescribe hrt, is literally one floor below us. i can walk you down and schedule an appointment right now.”

and i was like “uhhhh wait i didn’t actually want my problem solved that means i have to talk to strangers!!!” but like obviously this was the social anxiety talking because i did actually want hrt. so my therapist walked me down to medical and i scheduled an appointment with the one Trans Doctor (tee-em) at MIT medical (like seriously this woman is as far as I can tell the PCP for like half of MIT’s trans population, we stan).

so the way this worked out is I needed three appointments: one intake appointment which was largely informational, one appointment with a physical checkup and a blood draw, and finally an appointment once the blood draw results came in. So I went in to the firs appointment, scheduled the second once it was done, and then MIT medical stole my blood.

And when that appointment was done I...didn’t schedule the third.

Cue several months passing due to executive dysfunction and social anxiety.

So I finally get myself together enough to schedule the last appointment, and I go in...and it turns out I have abnormally low testosterone. And I was all ready to be like “Oh no...isn’t that a shame...how terrible...” but the problem is, low testosterone in conjunction with my other blood metrics...was possibly a sign of a brain tumor.

That sounds worse than it actually is -- the brain tumor in question would’ve been benign, so it wouldn’t have been cancer. It does occasionally lead to blindness however, and low testosterone from said tumor would obviously not be very visible once I was taking spironolactone. So we needed to make sure I didn’t have a tumor before we could proceed with HRT. I was sent to take another blood test, optimized for the time of day when testosterone levels peak, and was therefore in the strange situation of being a trans woman hoping for high testosterone levels on a blood test.

Alas, it seems I was truly too trans for my own good, for it turns out the second test was even lower than the first.

This meant I had to go in for another blood test, and I had to get an MRI. And of course remember that every appointment I make here means 3-5 weeks depending on scheduling, all while I’m engaging in the standard MIT pastime of drowning in psets. Which is not fun when you’re depressed from dysphoria, let me tell you.

The MRI rolls around and it’s in this area of the Boston metro area Where The T Dares Not Go. There’s a bus stop near the clinic, but I have only been on an MBTA bus once and I really didn’t want to miss my appointment. So I hop in a lyft and soon it’s time for me to go in the Big Science Tube.

So here’s the thing about the Big Science Tube. It’s loud, it’s cramped, and in my case at least you get pumped with Contrast Juice which like goes in your brain or something? idk i’m not an MRI tech. I actually found it to be a not entirely unpleasant experience, because it sort of feels like you’re in a cryosleep chamber or something and I’m a huge nerd. But it’s also...massively disorienting. You can’t move, your vision is limited to the inside surface of a white cylinder, the whole thing is making Noise and vibrating, there’s the Contrast Juice sloshing in your brain...Oh, and at least in my case they let me listen to satellite radio while i was vibing in the science tube. Thing is, I don’t generally like radio music, since I tend to like individual songs more than genres, so I picked the jazz station. I figured this would ensure fairly enjoyable music the whole time, instead of a weird roller-coaster of songs I like, songs I hate, and songs I haven’t heard (the vast majority).

While I stand by this analysis in general, I do not recommend jazz as the soundtrack to the big science tube.

All this is to say that by the time I got out, I was extremely out of it and loopy. Oh, I also forgot to mention: I did not sleep well the night before. My sleep schedule is a mess at the best of times, and I was very nervous. So I am...completely off the shits by this point, not to mention extremely hungry and thirsty. They tell you to drink a lot to flush the Contrast Juice from your system, so that works out OK. In theory.

I get out, stand by the bus station for a bit, and conclude the bus isn’t coming. I walk across the street to a McDonalds, figuring I could really use some food and liquid. Which was correct.

...Except the bus came and went while I was in there, and looking at the schedule on my phone revealed I’d have to wait another half an hour for another.

This is where I make a terrible mistake. I look at my map, see that Harvard...isn’t too far from where I am, and Harvard has a T station! Perfect! So I, completely loopy from the MRI, still dehydrated because I haven’t gotten nearly enough liquids from McDonalds, decide to WALK TO HARVARD. It was a 30 minute walk, through unfamiliar territory, and I cannot stress this enough: I. Was. Off. The. Shits.

So I walk to Harvard using my phone’s GPS and whatever brain cells were not full of Contrast Juice, somehow managing to navigate through this random neighborhood and over the bridge without getting too lost or getting hit by a car. As I reach Harvard, I realize that this is a bad place for me to be in my current mental state: it’s bustling, full of standard college craziness; i think there was a guy in a chocolate bar costume which I could not process at the time. Oh, and I’ve never been to the Harvard T station so in my condition I struggle to find it. And when I do get there...well, here’s the thing about the Harvard T station: It’s huge. There’s several floors of underground bus terminals and an absolute warren of tunnels. Perfectly navigable, if you’re sober or know the area.

I am of course none of these things.

Still, somehow I find my way to the train, but that wasn’t even the end of my problems! Because, you see, my dorm is twenty minutes from the nearest T stop! So even once I get back to MIT I still have lots of walking to do. I don’t remember how I got back at that point; I think it involved a lot of drinking fountains.

Anyway, I guess this was supposed to be about me getting HRT? So it takes a while for the MRI results to get back, but it turns out I don’t have a tumor. However, in the meantime my parents have been pushing for me to freeze some sperm cells, so that I can have kids someday. Here’s the thing: I do not want kids. I do not expect to ever want kids. And if that changes, I’d be quite happy to adopt kids. But my parents are offering to pay for it, and the risk-averse part of my brain is like “oh...maybe i should do it...just in case???”

It takes me a month to actually call a fertility clinic. In the meantime, I am struggling in my classes; dysphoria is not conducive to educational success. It was not a good time to be me, let’s just put it that way. Finally, I make the call, and uhhhh it turns out sperm freezing is really expensive? And you have to go in for an intake appointment...then do some tests...and then...

So at this point I say, fuck it! And I get on HRT the next week. In total it took me like...a year to get on HRT, depending on how you count it? And all this without anyone actually gatekeeping me on being an Invalid Trans or whatever. But it’s all good, because now I’m far happier and more together than I ever thought I can be. The moral of this story is: HRT good, executive dysfunction bad, and don’t wander through Harvard while completely off the shits from MRI aftereffects.

*this is the one issue with MIT medical; their services are great but also in high demand. the system is a bit better once you actually get into it though.

#genderfeels #trainsbionic-shieldmaiden #plasticbrains #personal #donut rebagel #medical cw #tumors cw #the word of the shieldmaiden

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