#i only have like 5 therapy sessions left before my therapist is going to have to decide whether to continue treatment or not

[gay-dorito-dust]

Isekai Reader, looking at the half-bitten cookie: .....

Isekai Reader, looks at Damian and Duke: Are you guys sure none of you put anything in here?

Alfred, checking their temperature: I was with them the whole time and any type of liquid that should not be in my kitchen is strictly prohibited

Isekai Reader looks at the transparent couple behind the two boys: I think I saw Bruce's parents... am I high?

Damian: what are you blabbering at?

Isekai Reader: Ya deaf boy? I said I can see your grandmother and granfather from your father's side who is behind you

Alfred, concerned(a bit hopeful too): are you sure?

Martha looks at her husband: How bout you tell him this so he can believe you dear, he is the only one who knows of this

Isekai Reader: hey Mr. Alfred wanna know what miss Martha told me?

Alfred: I'm afraid I don't know would you care to?

Isekai Reader: Wanna bet?

.....

Alfred:....

Alfred, clears his throat: Ahem, I will appreciate it if you don't tell this to any of them no matter what the cost

Isekai Reader: Don't worry I won't traumatize your already traumatized grandkids even more

.....

Bruce: should we send you to a therapist?

Isekai Reader: you're coming with me then

Bruce: absolutely not

Isekai Reader: Then no♥️

Isekai reader either high as balls or actually seeing ghosts? More news at 5.

Isekai! Reader/ you: after all you’ve been through, have any of you ever been to therapy before? Like genuinely gone and or considered going?

Bruce: I’m rich

Dick: once or twice but then I remember that I have to open up. No thanks.

Jason: why pay for therapy when killing crime lords and drug dealers is completely free.

Damian: therapy is beneath me.

Tim: what’s that? Never heard of it.

Duke: I missed one session! One!

Isekai! Reader/ you: if I had money I’d open up a hospital and shove you all inside it. not you Duke, you’re my favourite right now.

Duke: :)

…

-I love this concept, thanks anon-

Isekai! Reader/you: *seeing Martha and Thomas again as they watched over Bruce* fuck sake I’m high again.

*martha and Thomas resting their hands on their son’s shoulders, smiling at him*

Isekai! Reader/ you: *feeling a little sentimental* awww. They’re watching over their baby boy. *smiles softly*

Bruce, noticed: why you smiling.

Isekai! Reader/ you: just remembering how stupid you looked when dressed up as nightwing.

Bruce: Dick and Jason showed you the pictures?

Isekai! Reader/ you: that suit was struggling to keep itself together and I thought your whole asshole was going to fall out if honestly is what your after.

Bruce: it was a phase! *buries head into hands*

Isekai! Reader/ you: that’s what they all say, but you dressing up as a bat and beating people so bad they’re left in a comatose state has to be the longest phases you’ve been in. Ever.

…

Jason: *does anything*

Isekai! Reader/ you: I can take him.

Duke: in a fight right?

Isekai! Reader/ you: :)

Duke, scared: in a fight right?!

Bruce, from a distance: STAY AWAY FROM MY SON!

Isekai! Reader/ you: I WILL FUCK YOUR SON WHETHER YOU LIKE IT OR NOT! HES TOO FINE TO BE LEFT SINGLE! ITS CRIMINAL!

Duke: …

Bruce: …

Jason: :)

…

Bruce: what you got there?

Isekai! Reader/ you: a big ass plushie that’s half my body height. *picks said plushie up and squeezes it*

Damian: are you a child?

Isekai! Reader/you: unlike you I had actually got to experience a childhood…at least I think…I can’t remember most of it but I’m sure that’s normal.

Bruce: …

Damian: …

Duke: I’m pretty sure that having gaps in your memory in regards of your childhood isn’t healthy nor a good reflection on your childhood. I could be wrong though so don’t take my word for it.

Isekai!reader/ you: …consider this healing the inner child with a rich man’s credit card.

[altf4d3lete]

EPISODE TWO

- “maybe it’s one of your classmates” erm or maybe it’s your fucking son and you just decided to ignore the fact that he could be a Hyde too because you didn’t want that to be true

- Weems trying so hard to protect the school. Love her even tho she’s controversial

- Bro wednesday is better than me bc if Rowan walked in smiling at me like that I would have actually lost my shit right then and there

- “Was it to gain attention” what a horrible therapist wtf

- Why does this therapy session feel like a fight omg

- EW TYLER. Sorry.

- Court ordered therapy how badly did you fuck Xavier up bro

- “I believe you” i wonder why bro you’re so manipulative

- ENID MY BBG 😭 “i will literally scratch my own eyes out” “i would pay money to see that” and enid just whips around with a huge smile THEYRE SO CUTE

- HUH??? BY EPISODE TWO THING IS GIVING ENID NECK MASSAGES THATS CRAZY

- Enid not being mean about Rowan being alive unlike SOMEONE (Xavier)

- Yoko looks so done im sobbing

- The gentle rejection from Wednesday and Enid taking it with no issue

- ENID’S WINK

- Is the choir only sirens

- THE FAINT BARKING AFTER SHE SINGS THE NOTE DOGS CAN HEAR

- “Ever shot a bow and arrow” “only on live targets” proceeds to mansplain how to shoot a bow he’s so annoying I can’t stand Xavier im sorry

- She HATES him it’s so funny

- EUGENEEEE

- poor guy aw she just left him there

- There’s just casually a severed hand running through the train station

- THE WAY SHE SLAMS XAVIER’S SPIDER IS SO FUNNY

- Xavier is so awkward sitting between his ex and his crush AND they’re beefing

- Sheriff Galpin is kinda annoying

- HELP ENID BEING SASSY BC THING IS MAD

- Not her coaching wednesday on thing

- “go apologize” “yes ma’am 😐😕”

- Imagine losing your family to a pink sparkly werewolf

- Awww her opening up to thing is so cute

- COUGHS her GREATEST FEAR is being responsible for something terrible and y’all r saying she’d be okay dating someone who was going to help genocide her classmates that’s crazy.

- “I can’t let that happen”

- Y’all she was genuinely concerned abt being the reason the school is in trouble

- Her crushing Eugene about Enid is crazy

- Tyler is so manipulative holy shit

- God she trusted Laurel that sucks so much

- Sigh she can relate to Laurel and that sucks so bad

- I feel so bad for her the one adult she felt like could understand her

- Damn Xavier is so argumentative towards Bianca wtf

- Wednesday was so mad about Bianca cheating to hurt Enid

- MY POOR BABY CRYING ENID :((

- SHES JOINING FOR ENID BE FR WEDNESDAY. YOURE MAD ABT BIANCA’S COMMENT TOWARDS ENID

- I love how they’re always attached at the hip

- WEDNESDAY PUT ON A CATSUIT FOR ENID BE FR EARS AND EVERYTHING

- Enid just not being afraid by Wednesday’s threats

- The way nearly getting beheaded by an axe in the poe cup is just normal

- Enid trusting Wednesday to get the flag

- YES GIRL BREAK THEIR BOAT ENID

- The way she’s way faster than Xavier and Ajax because they got there before and she’d practically caught up with them by the time they got to the crypt (she took a shortcut nvm)

- Goody my bbg 😞

- Xavier getting so mad abt losing is crazy bro literally fell off his seat

- AND YELLING “CHEATERS” HELP

- WWWD I love you enid

- YEA THING PUNCH THAT MF FOR YOUR BEST FRIEND

- ENID WAITING TO RUN TO THE FINISH LINE FOR WEDNESDAY TO HOLD THE FLAG TOO IM ILL

- AND THEM HOLDING IT TOGETHER

- ENID LITERALLY SIDE HUGGING AND SHAKING HER AND WEDNESDAY DOESNT CARE

- they’re so cute

- With how far wednesday went from the quad and how quick enid found her, enid probably immediately went looking for Wednesday after noticing she was missing

- The way she’s hugging Wednesdays arm is so cute

- And the way wednesday looks at enid awww

- WEEMS BEING MORTICIAS COPILOT AND WEDNESDAY BEING ENIDS THATS SO CUTE

- “Ah yes. Me, my gf, and her 5 foot tall trophy”

- Why did she write everything in caps except the “i”s

- The ol’ Addams family snap

- Damn bro got kidnapped that’s crazy

[smokee78]

This is such a vague question but how did you do it? I'm assuming therapy helped a lot but like. Idk did you have to unpack all of the trauma or like. Idk. It sounds like a whole lot of effort and honestly congrats. I'm just curious how you managed to achieve it

Yes thank you so much for the question!

So I started EMDR therapy in April 2022, which is a type of therapy that helps process and desensitize trauma memories, and negative beliefs held due to trauma. You don't need an exact clear image/memory of the trauma for this to work, and in my experience it worked really well for my complex/ongoing traumas (ex. neglect and long term bullying) as well as for our "one time incident" more PTSD-like traumas.

shortly after beginning EMDR, a lot of our DID symptoms began to fluctuate, some weeks they were really bad, some they were noticeably much better. this is because EMDR doesn't only happen during sessions- your brain actually continues the reprocessing being the scenes in the background, which can cause extra stress in the meantime! but the end result is worth it.

of course, EMDR comes with a lot of safety measures and checking in before starting the therapy to make sure you are safe, and have a plan if things get to be too much.

I'd say maybe a few months in, we had a big even we dubbed "the fusening" in which many of our fragments "gave up" their form as they no longer felt it necessary to stay separate. some "larger" and more dominant parts fused at this time too, some 1:1 with another part, and others just seemed to dissipate.

I'd say by 4-5 months in we'd gone from over 90 identified parts down to a nebulous 30-50. We were also nearly (80% of the time?) always blurry, so it was hard to identify who was left.

we also identified some new parts at this time, who had been dormant and stuck behind a layer that previously was not able to contact us before processing trauma.

we stuck around 10-20 parts for a whole, working our way through traumasostly chronologically, and hit some big targets. it was hard and exhausting work, and left me on edge almost 24/7. but I could tell despite the exhaustion, I was getting better. I was still getting amnesia, but switches and headaches were much less noticeable, we were no longer finding new parts or splitting new parts, and it felt like I had the control to find healthy coping mechanisms on my own with out my brain trying to cope for me (by splitting).

these past few months I've actually been on a break from EMDR- my therapist noticed my avoidant behaviours to dealing with a lot of the trauma I faced from my parents, and I have a big school exam coming up. so we left it for the summer, to reconvene in October after my exam.

at that point I'd had about three alters left, two nearly identical, the current host and a similar alter, and in the process of trying to meld, and one of the earliest alters and most developed, and distinct we'd had.

in the meantime, I started regular talk therapy with a new therapist, less intense but to hopefully get some help with non trauma processing based issues, maybe try to grapple some of the parental issues without trauma targets.

We focused a lot on identity, as, despite having over 90 at one point, I felt completely lost! I didnt know who I was, what I wanted, and who I could be if I let myself. I was trying my best to "go along with the flow", but I didn't realize that didn't mean I had to like *everything*, even if I was open to new experiences!

I learned how to be on my own and still have fun in the absence of other people. I started broadening my horizons and going to local punk shows and learning it was okay to not be mainstream and still be safe! I came out to more people about my gender identity and started the process to transition medically, and started being more open socially about being gender non conforming. I learned I really, really, hate cooking, and that's okay.

about a few weeks ago, I had a falling out with my parents. I won't go into detail because I don't think it's relevant, but I decided our relationship wasn't healthy, and I cut them off for good. I'd previously done this two years ago as well, but we reconciled and tried to make it work. but this time, it was clear the only person that was interested in changing to make things work was me, and after finally getting a taste of figuring out who I could be, I was done sacrificing myself for the sake of making them happy.

stem, the last part to fuse with beau, held pretty much all the resentment for sacrificing ourself and not getting to be ourself. she held all the bitterness, the teenage and adulthood angst, all the rage. she'd been very stubborn about it all. to the point where beau as the host (this is getting confusing to type- I'm both sten and beau now. I'm one. but I'm trying to talk from beaus perspective about stem), had finally said "look. I know we wanted final fusion. but I'm okay if you want to stay stem and we'd changed our minds. we don't have to final fuse to still be an advocate for compassion towards those who choose final fusion, and we're not betraying ourselves or anyone else if we stay separate."

stem said "thank you" to this, which was the first time she'd shown any genuine positive emotion towards beau or the rest of the system. (she was a persecutor at one point, turned to no role/sort of protector ish role).

beau was shocked, as he never thought stem would let go of the bitterness she'd held to the rest of the system, the fact that she'd gone dormant and lost the host role at one point, and many other traumas.

there was genuine understanding and compassion towards each other as individual parts.

that night, stem was around and feeling list and hopeless about the reason we'd cut off our parents again. we vented to our friends, they listened, validated our feelings and... we felt better. the feelings laid to rest a little, though the grief was still fresh.

we left the conversation, and noticed we had a headache+foggy feeling we usually associated with a split. we commented to a friend we may be splitting, which hadn't happened in a while, but was understandable with the stress we were dealing with

except. it wasn't a split. we fused. stem was heard by herself and her system, and validated and respected by her friends. despite losing her adoptive family (not blood- we were adopted at birth), stem had found acceptance and love from our new chosen family and friends. that was enough to let go of the hate and bitterness and rage and let herself be one with the full range of emotions and personhood final fusing could give us in this way. I also use Stem as a preferred name in addition to Beau now, which I feel is fitting. I'm them, they are both a part of me even though we're all one now.

I hope this answered your question! one other thing to note, through a lot of hard work and cooperation, we were previously able to fuse a fragment and an alter together before any therapy, with a lot of help from those who'd already experienced fusion. it's not impossible to fuse some alters on your own. (though I would say it would be very unlikely to final fuse without outside help)

[valentijnsstuff]

This has been such a volatile week, this is mostly for myself to recount events but holy shit

Me almost making an attempt last sunday evening and then finding out there actually IS accessible help for my suicide issues after scrambling to find any for weeks

being able to sit and eat pizza on a busy terrace with a friend on monday

starting the tuesday with the most insanely tense session with two therapists where I could barely speak but HAD to tell them that they were just not helping, hanging out at a besties house to calm down, reaching out to my ex out of desperation, going to sleep in the haunted house

waking up wednesday feeling like shit and to a check in from my dad, who doesn't know what to say to my worsening depression, feeling sick and spiraling the rest of the day from medication side effects, to the point of not being able to eat and sleep and having to call a medical professional for a panic attack

Calling the docters office thursday morning because I felt so sick I wasn't sure I could drive myself to the doctors, being completely out and in an intense panic in front of a doctor that I don't quite trust, but miraculously being able to get a prescription for sleep medication, having my mental coach look at me with a very focused concerned face for a whole hour as I try to explain how bad the situation has gotten inbetween sobbing, her being actually helpful in telling me how to carry my pain, having a long conversation with a 113 professional when I come home, crying uncontrolably in a way I thought only children could, meeting up with my ex to ask him for help, having to sit and listen to him boast how good he is doing now he is finally making his own life choices, getting told by him 'count your blessings', having to sleep over at the besties house to calm down again after dragging myself through all that, gathering enough courage to cancel a date that I clearly couldn't go on in this state

Rushing home friday to have my sister come eat brunch, calling my ex to tell him that some of the things he said didn't sit right with me, bring my sister to her therapy meeting, get called by my ex that he wants an apology for hurting him before he considers helping me, being forced to have the conversation in what ways I was actually hurt by him in the middle of a busy street, having my intake for a suicidal prevention counseling right after, having a good time chilling out with my sister and going swimming with her and her bestie, not being able to focus on the swimming because of all the anger and hurt caused by my ex's treatment flooding back, being on the phone with him for an infuriating half hour, being told 'this is the last time we're talking', I could barely start to tell him what he did to make me as broken as I am, crying in the hallway of the swimmingpool, calling my friends to tell them I made the mistake of trying to trust my ex

Being in company of a bestie on saturday all day, driving 5 cities over to keep an eye on the expo there and being exhausted the whole time, slipping away to have a scream crying session in my car because of how much hurt my inner child still feels from the shit my ex pulled on me, finally being able to aknowledge how conditional his love was, having to stop by the haunted house with my bestie on the way back bc I left a roof window open, having to manage the water damage bc of said window, eating kfc in the parking lot absolutely knackered together, panic planning how to convert my car into a mini camper bc of how anxious I felt at going back to my house alone

Being able to go on a shopping tour to big stores with another bestie today, but having a meltdown at the busy restaurant, spiraling about how I will never be able to live in my home by myself because the weird cptsd that is connected to the place, my bestie inviting me over for sleepover to calm me down and help me trough another night

As I'm writing this I'm noticing so many patterns, I constantly need to be affirmed that there will be a way out of being alone, my medication is definitely starting to work and I can finally handle more situations, but the sleeping in my own home by myself is too triggering, I would rather sleep in my car in this point than be home by myself

[that1nerd-20]

Chapter 3: Hydra Hurt us, But he brought us together.

We learn a little something about Keira's life at SHIELD.

Warnings: a lil bit of fluff, somewhat angsty, mentions of past trauma, mentions of therapy

A/N: I KNOW IM SORRY!!!!! I Know its short, the others will hopefully be longer

For 5 months, they kept me in SHIELD bases, where they trained me to become an agent. They wanted to turn me into an Avenger, someone else they could use to their advantage. I know I'm being used… but it seems Fury has a soft spot for me. He often gives me special treatment, letting me have more freedom than the council would like me to have. It feels nice. The training was always brutal, they wanted to test everything about me and learn what they could.

My legs felt like they were about to fall off. I kept pushing myself. I ran and ran. The treadmill’s track going fast. The agent beside me tracked how fast I was going. They were pushing my limits, seeing how the serum Hydra had given me affected my body, my instincts, and my boundaries. My speed was clocked at 45 mph, slower than Captain America but still way faster than the average human.

— — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — —

The agent came at me in the ring. His body was adorned with protective padding. I only had gloves on. I dodged his swing, landing a blow on his stomach. Out of the corner of my eye, I could see Fury watching from the shadows. I kept my eyes trained on the person in front of me. After more and more of my blows landed on his body and his blows on mine, I finally swept my foot underneath him, knocking him off his feet.

Tony had visited me a couple of times at SHIELD, he said he felt sorry for me, but also like he had to protect me. So he’d visit in hopes of getting to know me better. I always looked forward to seeing him. 

“Williams you have a visitor.” an agent called into my room. Who could be visiting me? I really didn't know anyone outside of Shield. I walked out into the main lobby to see Stark. “Hey…” he looked at me, as he trailed off. “...Keira. Call me Keira” He nodded and smiled.

Tony had stopped by again. We were hanging out in my room, and he was telling me about a new project he was starting up. He was working on new weapons and technology that would aid the Avengers in upcoming missions.

“What do you think about the ideas?” he asked me, I looked over the blueprints that he brought along “They are really cool!” I had never seen blueprints as detailed and messy at the same time as these. He had planned out new improvements for Hawkeye’s arrows, new wrist guards for Natasha, new weapons for both his and War Machine’s suits and new equipment for Dr. Banner to use in the lab.

“Really?” he asked, and I simply nodded.

While at SHIELD, they were able to find out who I was, based on what I could remember about life before Hydra. They still had barely any idea of what I went through at Hydra and I didn't want to tell them. But Fury thought it would be good if I had someone to talk to about all of it.

Fury sat me down in a room with a lady who held a notepad. “Fury what am I doing here?...” I asked, I looked up at him not sure why this lady was there. She's kinda scary… “She's a therapist,” he simply states, motioning to the lady “and I think it would be beneficial if you talked about your experiences with her.” I let out a small oh. He left the room and she began introducing herself. “My name is Lauren” she started, she waited a moment for me to introduce myself. “My name is Keira,” I told her, she wrote down something on her notepad. 

During the first session, we talked about my interests, any friends I had, and what I did at SHIELD. It was just a get-to-know-me session. The next few times, she would try to coax things about Hydra out of me, it took quite a few of the weekly meetings to get anything out of me. But eventually, I started talking about it more. She recommended that I write in journals, first writing journals about what I remember during Hydra and before, then writing day-to-day journal entries about what I was feeling and what had happened throughout the day. 

[bisluthq]

Something I don’t like about the internet is that everyone seems to think that every single person should support you through your mental health struggles. It’s a nice thing to do and people who love you do usually stay by your side, but it can get to a point where you’re affecting their mental health and it’s fair and healthy for them to leave. So much of the discourse around Joe and Taylor seems to be that he didn’t support her based on the line “I know my pain is such an imposition”. But it’s totally fair if he can’t deal with it.

I would also like to add that, in my opinion, everything she says in that song (that line but also “I wouldn’t marry me either”) is what she thinks he’s thinking, not necessarily how he actually felt. It doesn’t sound like he said that to her, but whatever he did (or didn’t do) made her feel like her pain was an imposition and like he didn’t want to marry her, whether that’s true or not.

so I’ve been going to couples therapy (second time today, we’re doing a course of 5 and will then see) and she has a few things she’s said - she’s super great - that really stuck out to me. One of them is that we all have our own story and a lot of the time our story is informed by what we’re thinking and our pasts and shit and has fuck all to do with what our partner (or really anyone we have relationships with - broadest sense) is thinking. That’s been really powerful for us because we’ll say something to each other in the session and she interrupts like “so that’s the story you're (me for example) telling, what’s the story you (him for example) hear?” And like a lot of the time it’s vastly different stuff. With Taylor, I think the stories she tells herself are very powerful because the stories she tells us are lol and that’s a watered down version of what she’s thinking and feeling and believing. But they’re HER stories. And I think I’ve always been saying that but I’ve become more aware of it in this therapy bout right because I’ve never done a couples thing before and so I’ve pretty much always told my story only.

like to give a random example right one of the issues we’re dealing with in therapy is my tendency to binge drink and that’s something I’m dealing with on my own time also but some of the stuff he’s upset about didn’t make any sense to me when he got mad originally (which is why we’re in therapy now). For example, one time we were out with friends and he wanted to go home and I didn’t and he said “I’m cold, let’s go” and I said “I’ve still got half a glass of wine left”. What I meant is “I want to stay at this restaurant longer, I’m still having fun” and what he heard - because of his own cockroaches in his head and like his alcoholic SIL and BIL and actually his ex wife and shit - is “I’m prioritizing alcohol over you and your comfort because I want to keep drinking.” That genuinely wasn’t what I meant, but it’s what he heard and that’s valid right like because we all hear different shit. We all have these things right and our stories and whatnot. We only EVER hear Taylor’s story on her lyrics and that’s FINE but it’s not the absolute truth because there’s no such thing? Like in real life personal relationships there’s no objective single truth?

the other thing the therapist talks about a lot is how every relationship requires a lot of work. people all come into the relationship with their own baggage and preconceptions and ideas around shit and even if you don’t fight or talk about it, resentment grows. My bf and I do fight lol that’s why we’re in therapy and she says conflict is an opportunity to resolve that stuff instead of letting it fester and yeah I mean that’s why we went to therapy. I’ve been in prior relationships where there was no fighting but a GREAT deal of resentment on my side and no opportunities for growth or fixing it idk. To me, YLM sounds like that kind of relationship. “How can you say you love someone you can’t tell is dying” idk dude because you haven’t told him and he’s not a mind reader? And I say that with 0 judgment but like that’s legit a problem.

finally I think Swifties need to realize Taylor’s partners have their own stuff going on and like no they can’t just orbit around Taylor. That wouldn’t be healthy at all? You can’t exist in a happy relationship purely to satisfy your partner like you both need to do shit idk.

[ed-archive]

Venting again, been in PHP for over 3 months now. I feel like eating has been okay, but in body image HELL and I don't know what to do. It's so odd to be upset that I can comfortably ride public transit. Before treatment this time my spine was constantly bruised from the seat backs. Yet at the same time, I got kids shorts and they fit, tight but they fit. My stomach rolls over the edge of almost all of my pants. I want to cry over it but I just can't. I want nothing more than to turn off my ability to think for a day.

I want to recover. Really I do, but I don't know if I can. Sure I'm eating regularly, gained a lot, my body is stable. But since restarting treatment in December BEGGING to work on body image, it feels like nothing has really been done. I got an assignment about values and literally put on the sheet "yea I know I'm cool and all that as a person, but I hate my body and I need help to work on that". When I left res and stepped down, the first thing I told my current therapist was that I need to work on body image. I said it all through the first and second times in treatment too. At least back then one of them said I could get the body image workbook. Didn't get any help with it though.

I'm sick of hating my body all the time. I will always hate it to an extent, I'm disabled, I'm not cis, and not binary either. There's no resolve for those. But if I could reach a point of "oh hey I'm really struggling with how I look but I know I don't need to lose weight and am comfortable with that" would do SO much. Cause I've been in this cycle for a while. Hate the body, starve, feel okay with the body but dying, go to treatment, rinse and repeat.

It's like the program just ignores so much of what eating disorders actually are. Recently we had ONE group about binging. That's the only time a behavior has really even been named in this stay, going on 5 months soon. Otherwise it's just us clients processing and going "I really struggled with behaviors over the weekend". Even in individual session it barely gets talked about. Sure you don't want people to share tips and whatever, but at a certain point it's worse to not be able to talk about the struggles. Unable to talk openly with the group of "I just can't get myself to eat enough at home recently and I don't know what changed" you HAVE to just say "I've been struggling with behaviors" and get some vague "yea me too, it's tough" from the other clients and some "what can you do to cope" from the staff.

I hate it all so much. And the staff at the facility I go to have mostly left so we have a bunch of new people who have never worked in the field before. Most of the trainees want to go into family therapy anyways. We clients have had to call them out for saying horrendously harmful shit MULTIPLE TIMES. Almost all of us talk about leaving over it all. A group of people fighting so hard to recover, everyone in there wants to get better. But with everything it feels so stagnant.

I might have it the worst situationally. The apartment I'm in is through the program, I cannot leave if I want to stay in this state. Going home would be far more harmful. I am stuck here. Seeing people enter and leave, some graduating cause they're doing well, some going into res, some leave cause they have to return to work. I'm not even allowed to have anyone cross the threshold of the door. I could have roommates of people in the program, this is a 3 bedroom, but I've been all alone for 3 months. This is the only time I've lived on my own. I can't move out away from family back home, I can't get a job, I don't know if I can go to uni. I don't even know when I go home. Once I leave the program god knows when, I have to stay in the US for a while til I can get a flight all the way back.

And I have yet to meet another human, in person or online who knows this feeling. Yes I will go home in peace, but I don't get to have any clue when. I met one doctor for one appointment who's been to the place overseas I moved to. None of my friends over there have been over here. Closest I have is one friend who did a year at a college in England. I'm not even in my home state. When I leave here I go to my mom's hometown to live with her and my grandma til we leave. And I just get to pray I'm stable enough to handle all of that on my own til I get all the way back and can resume seeing my old therapist. She's not even an ed therapist but I feel like I did better work with her.

All in all I'm very sad right now. I feel like I can't talk to anyone about it. At least in a meaningful way. Insomnia is not helping and seemingly nutrition and meds aren't either. Yes I will try talking to my therapist about this but like I mentioned above, we'll see how that goes cause I have little hope.

[plantypotter]

I am in so much pain this past month. I ... cannot seem to enjoy anything without this constant feeling over shame and overwhelm. I am tossing labels out the window for the sake of this argument. no clinical diagnoses. rather, what is the problem?

one: artem. is he right? do i have low self esteem and my therapist isn't working? and it's ok my therapist isnt working? where does the pain and jealousy for those whom are able to observe and tell me that come from?

two: what do i need to be .... ok? like at peace day to day? with my relationships, with new ones, with ones i've invested in , with ones i've neglected in some way. why do i push people away the minute they stop validating me?

----

response

one: first thought is, who cares what he thinks? i know i do, but at the same time, in the same vein, i don't morally give a fuck. part of me thinks, strongly, if it's not serving me, who gives a fuck. which is true. no one's opinion of me is going to affect me at the end of the day, it's really my opinion of myself. and ... what is my opinion of myself? (god he's so fucking mean and critical. it makes me angry to think about. it puts me on this loop. do i empathize with these side attack feelings of being attacked, of being hurt, of being unsafe? do i remind myself that...i am safe, and someone saying something negative about me does not ... make me unsafe? do i deprogram?) my opinion of myself. i ... well, i don't think i'm ... independent. i also cannot handle criticism without shutting down for at least a little bit. it puts me into "play dead" or "flight" now, i think. "fight" if I'm familiar with the person, and they can empathize with the other two steps because we've been intimate emotionally, and i know they ... in some way, need or desire me emotionally/won't leave? which pushes them away. I'm aware. so. my opinion. is that, overall, 5/10. as a whole. pretty but so unorganized i don't take care of myself. intellectual and social interests but so overwhelmed everyone i do things with is left hanging eventually. has a societal vision of good communication and reliability, humor, pride, progress but does not execute --- will leave one trail for another halfway there, and never get to the end of level 1. my figs are rotting at the end of the tree and falling off. it is horrible and fills me with shame to watch, and everyone else gets to see it to.

and i don't know how to stop it. therapy? where do i get the money for that when i am constantly overwhelmed? do i stop trying to get anywhere in life, waste my late 20s just saving, doing mediocre jobs, going to therapy?

two: need to be ok? what is OK? the last time i felt OK.. maybe before my brother was born, and through my relationship with him, and my dad before i realized he was neglecting parenting my brother. when i was ok... i was... enamored with the world, every day, every thing around me. i had people who loved me, and i had places to push myself and learn new things. i had freedom, but i also had structure. i also had nannies around who... were supportive, not terribly stressed, pretty hot. i don't know why i was OK. i was also OK... when i was making enough to pay my bills and then some, seeing my therapist and had a place where i felt safe coming home to, could help my brother. i suppose i could do that here. the data analysis thing maybe delay until spring, and just.... try to save. finish my MA course thing. ugh. ughhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh. i groan because i want it to happen now, i don't want to lose the opportunity to. do this COOP data analyst training thing. it's my way in.

so to summarize, to be ok: income > basic needs. safe space to relax every day. therapy budget and session in weekly agenda. supporting my brother, and family in some way. financially preferred.

i don't like. venting without there being solution, out come, next step. next step: only apply to jobs that provide more than basic needs. buy ikea rug, air filer, vent for ceiling and top of door. set up therapy, and get therapy book. text nick if he still wants allowance. email 2-3 physical therapists at u-mich to see if he can shadow.

be compassionate with myself i suppose, and also hold myself to a standard. i know its hard, but i expect good things from myself because i want to believe i'm capable of them. life will keep going on without me, i can choose to go in circles here or move in the straight line

(subconscious dialogue: i am trying to love those emotions and let them come and go. i am trying to love the emotion right now telling me i should be ashamed. i am trying to love the programming right now telling me i am behind and i should feel shame. why? why should i feel shame? is that motivating me?

maybe a little. what i didn't feel shame about anything, and just did what served me? I trust my morals... mostly. if anything. if there's problem, my system wont work and i can adjust. no amount of worry or shame is going to help me improve.

and i know if i... keep doing this, loving the emotions that tell me i am in danger when i am in fact, not going to die from these things. FUCK. i am loving the fact that i don't know which emotions i want to feed and which i want to let come and go. shame? do i want to feed it? do i want to accept it? do i want to accept all of my emotions?)

income: difference between healthy self-doubt and crippling negativity

[winderlylandchime]

Hello, i am coming to you with simply just updates that are just about the idiot..i mean my brother. I have two messages that i just have to send you. He had a doctor check up on Monday and then afterwards PT and yesterday he had his therapy session. And i have been dying to let you all know how it went! Starting off: we got to his check up and he got into the office and decided to try and hide his cast in his hoodie. Mind you it was his doctor’s coworker that gave him the cast so it’s in his file. Anyway his doctor walks in and goes ‘(his name), no need to hide it. We had a meeting this morning and we spent at least 30 minutes talking about you.’ And my brother is looking at him completely speechless and the doctor goes ‘and only 10 of those minutes were dedicated to the actual reason for this check up.’ You guys, my brother was flabbergasted. He was dead silent for like 5 minutes and then while checking his scars or whatever the doctor out of nowhere goes ‘….queer eye? Really?’ And THE NURSE LAUGHED BUT COVERED IT UP AS A COUGH. And my brother looked at them and goes ‘i thought we were friends and yes, I may have some regrets’

2nd story: after that he had PT and he BEGGED me to stay with him because he was scared of his doctor finding out about the broken wrist. He obviously decided to once again try and hide it. And his PT doctor walks up to him (remember Brian?) and before my brother even goes into that room he stops and goes ‘first things first Bri, who have you been talking to lately?’ The answer was no one but my brother was still suspicious. And the first thing he did was, he gave him an exercise where he would throw a ball to him and he had to catch it with both of his hands and my brother just stood there and goes ‘why don’t we do some leg work today’ and the guy goes *long silence* ‘cause….you didnt have leg surgery?’ And my brother goes ‘its just, i might not be able to do *waves his left arm to the ball* that’ and the doctor goes ‘okay whats up? Youre acting weirder than usual’ and this dumbass goes ‘don’t freak out but *pulls his cast out of the pocket of his hoodie* surprise’ and Brian the doctor goes ‘excuse my language and unprofessionalism but what the fuck did you do now?’ And then he told him the whole story and the guys only reaction was putting his head in his hands and going ‘what am i gonna do with you?’

3rd story from yesterday is short for obvious reasons but it made my mom laugh: my brother asked me if i could help him set up for his therapy session (aka he needed me to bring him water/pills/etc and open up his pills for him, which btw earlier that day he struggled for 5 minutes trying to open it and then went to my neighbor for help and she wasn’t home either so he went down to two other houses to know on the door to help him open his pill bottle) and I’m helping him out and in that time his therapist shows up on zoom. And my brother explains he needs some help so if he can just give us a second so i can leave. And then while I was helping him he goes ‘(his therapists name) guess what? Wait no, don’t guess, let me just show you��� *shows him his cast* ‘ta-daaaa’ and his therapist went ‘(his name), what the fuck?’

So all three doctors had similar reactions and they all made me laugh. I feel like they’re all fed up with him, counting down the days to any type of a break they can get from him.

Thank you for this update dear sweet anon. I cannot get over his doctors’ reactions to his broken wrist. They are so over him and his antics.

We had a meeting this morning and we spent at least 30 minutes talking about you.’ And my brother is looking at him completely speechless and the doctor goes ‘and only 10 of those minutes were dedicated to the actual reason for this check up.

Okay but have none of the doctors checked out QAF? If I had a client this obsessed, I may be curious enough to check it out!

The nurse cough-laughing is hilarious!

[peachmuses]

@sociieties asked: 5 times shuuzou felt something was very, very wrong. bad end.

i. the first time he feels something is wrong is when he comes back to makoto's apartment. ( he had made a rash decision in breaking up with his best friend / anger and jealousy swirling in his stomach leading him to argue with his best friend - the one person shuuzou had always tried to not hurt. he had hurt him anyways / and shuuzou is ready to swallow his pride. ) makoto's things are here -- but there's a thin layer of dust that shows that nothing has been touched for a week or so and shuuzou's stomach twists in knots. ( wrong. this is wrong. something is wrong. what happened / where's makoto ? ) he's pulling out his phone to text best friend as he moves to makoto’s room. maybe there will be something there / maybe – maybe, makoto hadn’t left him.  

[ text; ako ] where are you. [ text; ako ] came by to talk. [ text; ako ] mako -- where are you ? why does it look like you havent been here ???? [ text; ako ] ako im sure youre mad im sorry pls. i didn't mean it. [ text; ako ] ako-chan????

he finds out his best friend is in america -- and that makoto was sick. makoto tells him they can talk later. later, he finds out from atsushi that makoto had left with tatsuya. ( and shuuzou wants to cry. he knew it. he knew something was going on there. why else would makoto go to the person that tried to destroy their relationship ? shuuzou wants to cry. he's so stupid. he should have known tatsuya wouldn't have allowed him to have anyone. he shows up on kazuya's door step, and when the other asks him where he's been, shuuzou, sarcastic, drunk, replies with " emotional hell. " kazuya stares, and shuuzou fidgets, before he’s releasing whatever breath he has and drops his hands to the side. it’s not fair / he’s so tired. why tatsuya ? why his ex ? why the one person that wanted to ruin everything ? tatsuya is good at that. ruining things / ruining people. “ makoto left with tatsuya. ” kazuya curses under his breath and shuuzou wants to laugh / cry / kill himself / anything so he doesn’t feel the sharp blade of betrayal in his chest. ( he’s empty ! everything good in him is gone. the most central thing to his existence / the support for who he was as a person – gone. nothing will never be the same. shuuzou will never be the same. )  

ii. it's been a few months of therapy -- kazuya had helped him find someone after shuuzou forced himself to ask for help. he can’t lose kazuya as well – he’s lost everyone else. ( his friends – his family. all he has left is his soulmate. ) therapist recommended a psych; and shuuzou hated it on principle. ( it made him think of makoto / and how he studied psychology / and about a professor that no longer exists; shuuzou tells kazuya about it one day as ryou slaps his hand telling him he’s cutting the vegetables wrong. ) he had spent both beginning sessions with each of them, staring untrustingly at therapist/doctor – and both were extremely patient with him.   " apparently, " shuuzou says, grabbing a beer out of the fridge and sitting next to kazuya whose strumming his fingers, " the bad vibes i've been feeling all my life is just severe psychological distress. " he thinks it’s funny / in a way that it’s not funny, but it’s hysterical to him. recently diagnosed with borderline personality disorder; a mental illness that impacts his ability to manage his emotions ; more often caused by severe childhood trauma. it explains the hallucinations that he has. he tells kazuya and ryou, about it too. he’s trying to talk more. the abused kid who only wanted to be enough and was never enough. nothing he ever did was enough for his family / then he wasn’t enough for tatsuya / then he wasn’t enough for makoto. it’s not fair of him to put it on makoto; when he’s the one who ended things – but shuuzou thinks it’s fair anyways. call him bitter; he doesn’t care. holiday season is the worst, shuuzou thinks. in japan, the holiday is more for couples than anything, but in america, it’s a time for family and friends to rejoice. shuuzou tells kazuya and ryou that he’s going to give them time to themselves, but not to worry about him. christmas day arrives, and shuuzou spends it in bed. he’s tired and alone / but he no longer weeps despite the distance that he feels between him and everything and everyone that exists. it’s his first christmas without makoto around; since he’s returned from america back when he was a stupid teenager. he hated it then, being away from makoto, and he still hates it now.

[ text, drafted; ako ] merry christmas.

he doesn’t send it – he thinks about it, but makoto hasn’t reached back out to him since shuuzou had told him nevermind on talking, and shuuzou realises that means makoto doesn’t want to talk to him. ( if makoto had wanted too / why wouldn’t makoto say something / do something ? ) it's the 26th, which means it’s christmas day in america, and shuuzou decides that the best way to ignore the emptiness inside of him is to toss his phone into his closet. he won’t text makoto / he won’t text tatsuya / and whoever tries to reach out to him, can just move on. he’s easily left anyways. hours later kazuya and makoto break into his apartment, and wake him up. ryou’s got an iced coffee with his name on it and shuuzou blinks wearily at the two of them. kazuya tells him that he wasn’t answering his phone, and shuuzou shrugs. “ it’s off. I threw it somewhere in my closet. ” shuuzou reaches for iced coffee, and ryou holds it out of reach so shuuzou is forced to get up and shuuzou scowls at him, as he’s forced to get out of bed and from under the covers. he tells kazuya that he feels like something had happened, that something bad was happening, and ryou looks up at his best friend in concern. ryou – who had read about borderline personality disorder, who had told kazuya about it in bed that evening after shuuzou had left. ( he remembers, briefly, doing the same, when makoto had told him that he was autistic. ryou had told kazuya about that as well. ) ryou shakes their head, “ I’m sure it’s nothing. c’mon there’s a sale going on, and if we don’t show up for lunch, I’m pretty certain og and momoi-chan will kill us. ”

iii. his therapist asks him if he loved makoto and shuuzou shrugs. " no ? " it's more question than statement. part of him has always loved makoto / part of him will always love makoto. she asks if he's certain and shuuzou softly admits a 'no'. he's not certain / he’s never been certain of anything, actually. at one point, makoto had been the center of his universe and shuuzou thinks that's stupid. there is no center of the universe / the universe is infinite; non-rotating. there, logically, can be no center if there is no point that exists within it. there is no center of rotation - unlike a spinning ball on a finger / there is no center of mass because the universe is infinite. the universe is flat; not curved - - there is no center there either / and it is always expanding equally in every direction. there is nothing that exists only in one spot / no supermassive black holes, or super-large nebulas or other foreign objects. there is no center of the universe / and it's stupid that makoto is - was - his. the night before he had a stupid dream that things had worked out for him and he tells his therapist that he had drafted another text to makoto.

[ text, drafted; ako ] I’m sorry about everything. [ text, drafted; ako ] I’m sorry this was the best I could do. [ text; drafted; ako ] I’m sorry I can’t get over it. [ text; drafted; ako ] I’m sorry I still think about you.

his therapist stares at him with dark, concerned gaze and shuuzou feels stupid. he should be over it; he should; he should; he should. she tells him that it's okay to not be over it when makoto had been such a large part of his life and shuuzou wants to laugh. he tells her that he has this feeling that something is wrong / that makoto is getting into trouble and she tells him that he needs to worry about himself for a change and that it's okay to not worry about him.

iv. it's their birthday -- it is ; and shuuzou feels less empty ; more numb than anything. his coworkers throw confetti at him, and he puts on a fake smile nd dusts himself off. " thanks for that, " he says droll to satsuki who giggles. she's pregnant – her and og had told them after christmas, and shuuzou thinks it's funny just how protective aomine and og had gotten over her – she’s just about to have the baby – a girl, she told them, excited. she’s about to go on leave, and shuuzou pats her shoulder. “ lets celebrate you, though ? ”  he's taken to regularly drafting texts to makoto - his therapist tells him that he shouldn't but shuuzou thinks it's okay as long as he doesn't reach out.

[ text, drafted; ako ] today's my birthday and i feel sad. [ text, drafted; ako ] when will you be back. [ text, drafted; ako ] i have this feeling you're not taking care of yourself. [ text, drafted; ako ] i still miss you.

she wants him to journal / shuuzou does not have the patience to journal - or the time. he's filled his schedule with so many things that he's not allowed to be sad. kazuya's birthday was three days ago. shuuzou stared blankly at the old pandora group chat that's not been touched in a good year and a half. he rereads old messages; and thinks he might hate tatsuya more than ever for doing what he'd done. kazuya hasn’t mentioned them / but shuuzou is certain he can’t be the only one that miss them. he now stares at himself in the mirror - he thinks he's better / better at pretending that he's better, at the very least. he's tried praying / tried every language he knows to call makoto back --- and nothing works.

v. something's wrong. he doesn't know whats wrong / but something's wrong. he brings it up to his psych - he tells him that his chest is tight and he feels like something has gone wrong; that someone was hurt, that someone was in danger. his therapist ups his meds and shuuzou wants to cry. he's not imagining it - he's not. he tries to tell them ; but they tell him that it's just a mental break and shuuzou shatters glass in his hand / he's jolted into the here / now; and stares at bloody hand and his psychitrast stares at him. shuuzou hates him. shuuzou hates makoto too. shuuzou hates tatsuya the most. he hates that he loved makoto / and it wasn't enough. splitting, his therapist had told him when he was diagnosed, is often caused by an event that makes an person with borderline personality disorder to take an extreme emotional viewpoint. she explained it to him as when a person has difficulties assessing a situtation, / polarizing a view of a person as strictly good / bad. it was his own mind that ruined things / because, shuuzou always ruins things. his heart is heavy / a burden. he wonders when he can think / say makoto’s name without it hurting ?  he wonders how he can get rid of it ? it's been ages, and shuuzou still feels stuck. it's been over a year, and shuuzou still feels like he's stuck. kazuya brings up his hand and why it's bandaged, later on, and shuuzou shrugs. " accidently broke some glass. " he sends a tired grin to kazuya, " i'm too old to fight anyone anymore, don't worry. i've left that all in the past. "

[ultralightpoe]

Soft Smiles and Soft Pretzels - Bucky Barnes

Description: Bucky finds his new favorite snack and his new favorite person

Warnings: none

Authors Note: First of all I actually love soft pretzels, might die for them really. Feel free to send in requests, I write for most of Marvel characters. Have fun and ENJOY!! Also if this is shitty I wrote it at 4 am.

Word Count: 1,683

MAIN Master List - - Marvel Master List 

Bucky Barnes hated therapy. 

          Sure, he understood that it was because of his crimes, and it was supposed to be helping him out in the long run, but he dreaded every meeting. For someone who was supposed to heal your soul, therapists knew how to attack you better than anyone else. Bucky tried not to be defensive, but he never met someone who made him want to cry so damn much.

            His therapist seemed to bring attention to issues he didn’t even know he had. Like his missing Steve, when his friend left Bucky tried to push it from his mind but in truth he felt angry. He felt as if Steve abandoned him, and he was angry about it, which he never would have known if it weren’t for that nosey woman. 

              Not to mention how she called him out on the Sam situation. Bucky was just fine with ignoring Sam’s messages and calls, he didn’t need to be Sam’s stupid obligation, that was until the therapist pointed out that Sam was the only number saved into his phone and that he should think about that. Bucky didn’t want to think about it. He wanted to throw his phone out a window. 

              Yes, it was true Bucky hated therapy, but he would admit to liking some of the homework she gave him. A couple challenges here and there to try and get Bucky into the world.  Her most recent task was to “go and find a food that reminds him of his past. Before the military. Find that special food.”

               It seemed silly and he felt stupid thinking about it, but he tried. He tried a retro themed diner but all they served was deep fried treats and crazy shakes. Then he found a bakery that claimed to have ‘THE classic apple pie’, which turned out to not be classic at all. Stop after stop he tried but he couldn’t find any food that felt like the real thing.

                He had just about given up, on his way to his next therapy session to tell her of his failure, when he saw a newspaper stand serving hot pretzels and popcorn. The rush of excitement he felt when he saw newspapers was absurd, but he used to love reading the comics while Steve studied the actual articles and would always give him a recap of what he read.

               “How much?” He asked the man working the stand, grabbing a paper with his right hand while his left reached for his wallet, that’s when you came bounding through. Bucky had been too involved in his memory of Steve to see you running up squealing, or honestly, he didn’t really care if you were a threat, because you slipped right past him without him seeing.

              “VAN! DID YA HEAR THE GOOD NEWS?!” You shriek, smiling widely at the vendor. 

               “Ah there she is!” The vendor, Van, laughs. “I've been waiting for you to show up. Did you finally find your missing scarf, dork?”

“Yes- thank you for asking- but it’s not that. Guess what.” 

“What?”

              Bucky was confused, and didn’t know what to do. He could walk away and just head to therapy, but he also wanted the newspaper….. And he wanted to know what your news was. 

                 “While I was stuck in my apartment elevator I was on the phone with this radio station- I mean what else is there to do y’know- so I’m on the radio station line just laying on the elevator store when SOMEONE PICKED UP! I WAS THE 3RD CALLER AND I WON 5 CONCERT TICKETS!” You squeal, jumping up and down. 

Van, now laughing, claps. “Congrats, who is it?”

                  “That boy band you’re daughter likes so much, and since none of my friends listen to them I figured you can have three tickets for you and your two daughters.” You smile, which has Van hopping off his stool. 

                “NO!” He smiles, shaking his head. “There is no way you are offering me -”

               “I’m not offering. I’m giving.” You laugh, handing him three tickets.

                “You are something you know?” Van smiles, kissing your cheek. “Free pretzel on me. For you too man!” 

                  Before he realizes what’s happening the vendor is shoving a fresh pretzel in his face. “Take the paper too. Courtesy of Y/n.” 

                 “Oh that’s very kind, but-but I couldn’t”

                  “Nah, you can. It’s your lucky day.” Van smiles, turning to presumably call his daughters. It’s then that Bucky looks at you, paper and pretzel awkwardly resting in his hand while his left hand is hidden in his jacket pocket. 

                  The first thing he can think upon seeing you is gorgeous, but even that doesn’t fit well enough. You look like the first sunlight peeking through the blinds on a new day, chasing away a long night of terrors.

                  You stand there for a second, looking him up and down, before smiling softly. Bucky, who only really smiled with Yori, feels his own lips move to make a small smile right back at you. “Well…. I’ve actually got work. So I’ll see you around.”

                     Then you’re gone through the crowd and Bucky can feel his heart sink a little. He tries not to think about it too much, enjoying the pretzel while walking to therapy. Good news is he found the food that reminded him of the old days, a soft pretzel.

                           He told his therapist about the pretzel, but not about you. She asked how the pretzel made him feel and Bucky answered truthfully, saying “I felt like it was my lucky day.”

                       She said she was pleased that he found this, and she wanted him to keep going down this path. Sometimes the best road for the future is embracing the past. Which is how he found himself in a record shop with Yori, two soft pretzels in hand, and a grumpy look.

                      The task was to find a song that he loved in that time and could love in this time as well. A task easier said than done apparently. Bucky had racked his brain for all his favorite music at the time, but it was all still a bit fuzzy and anything he did remember made him sad.

                  He tried listening to Judy Garland, who used to be his sister's favorite, but the memories of her singing in her room while she cut newspapers up was a bit too painful. Then he tried don’t fence me in, which was a song he remembered playing on repeat, but nearly 70 years with Hydra gave the song a whole new meaning. 

               So he asked Yori if he wanted to go to a record shop, claiming Yori could use some time out when really Bucky was just afraid of going into public alone. 

                They had been in the shop for an hour, Yori happily playing some waltzing music over on the record player, when you walked in. Bucky had been browsing recent artists, facing the door when the bell went off announcing a new body. Out of habit he looked to find a threat and there you were, this time looking like a breath of fresh air. 

               “Hey! Pretzel guy.” You smile, face lighting up as you recognize him, which has Bucky smiling widely in return.

               “H-....uhm hey.” He attempts to sound cool, but he is sure you can see right through the act. “It’s good to see you again.”

              “You too! Whatcha looking at?” You ask casually, coming to look with him. 

              “I was looking for some good 40s music.” Bucky admits lamely, leaving out the part of him being 106 and that he had been there for the 40s music. 

               You look at the records he had just been browsing through and lean in to whisper, “You know Lizzo wasn’t in the 40’s right?”

                “What? Oh yeah. Got kind of distracted.” Bucky laughs, smiling at the top record. 

                 “Ah. I see. Well Dean Martin started in America in the 40s. Maybe you can look into him.” You offer before moving over to the 90s records. Bucky nods, thinking of Dean Martin's songs when he sees Yori shaking his head while gesturing for Bucky to go over to you. 

             When Bucky shakes his head no Yori decides to take it into his own hands, the old man walking over to where you were looking. 

             “Excuse me, are you single? Because that gentleman over there is and he would like to take you out.” Yori smiles, nodding at you in encouragement. When you laugh and nod, Yori gives Bucky a knowing look. “Perfect. Friday at 7. He’ll pick you up. Movie date, start simple.”

            When Friday at 7 came around Bucky did pick you up, sure he stressed over how to hide his arm for an hour and what shirt would go best with the leather jacket, but once you opened your apartment door all his worries slipped away. 

            “Good evening.” He greets, hands gripping the bouquet of flowers tightly. “I got these for you.”

            “That’s so sweet!” You smile, grabbing them softly and leading him inside. “Let me just put these in water then we can head out.” 

             Your apartment is brightly lit, and while you fill a vase with some water, bucky looks at all the magnets and pictures you have on your fridge, eyes snagging on the photo of you with a darker haired girl both smiling like fools and holding up bows. 

           “That’s Kate. She was in an archery program with me.” You inform once coming back and seeing his staring. “I got second place.”

“Pretty skilled huh?”

            “Oh yeah. Well actually no. The rest of the competitors were terrible, the only one who was semi talented was Kate.” You tease, grabbing his elbow and leading him out gently. “What about you? Any dangerous hobbies?”

             “Me. No, not really. I prefer the simple life.” Lie.

           “Mmmm. That’s not possible.”

           “Why’s that?” Bucky laughs nervously. 

           “Because we are made to be. And nothing about me is simple.” You scoff playfully, joining your hands together. “And I believe you owe me a pretzel.”

[liu-lang]

more of a note to self but i had a not great therapy appt today which propelled me to move up my follow-up psychiatrist appt ... my therapist wants to change the diagnosis that's on file for me but i don't agree with it. we ran out of time so next time i told her i wanted to talk to her about 1) how this change of diagnosis would affect the treatment plan and 2) going through the DSM 5 for this diagnosis to better understand what she thinks i've exhibited that fits this criteria and why she thinks this is a good diagnostic fit. if anyone has had to navigate a convo like this, what was it like ? for what it’s worth my therapist is a LCSW (so masters degree + state licensure) and I think I really want a second opinion from my psychiatrist who obvs has done way more schooling / training and has known me much longer as I’ve worked with her since may 2022. The entire time I worked with my psychiatrist, I also saw my previous therapist who never mentioned changing my diagnosis. I’m not here to discredit anyone who has LCSW credentials but I’m just concerned after barely a month of treatment she wants to change things so drastically to an even more severe form of mental illness. She was also very insistent on talking to my psychiatrist (which I saw as a good sign bc I genuinely think it’s good for providers to work together for a more holistic understanding of the patient) but now I am fearful that my therapist may have been adamant about this bc she might want to change my meds to fit this more severe diagnosis….which thinking about it makes me scared of losing my mind (no pun intended) bc I have been on a roller coaster of trying to find a medication + dosage that alleviates symptoms and has side effects I can tolerate.

she did say the diagnosis can be amended etc etc but i was genuinely shocked at what she said and i immediately cried after the appt and had to talk to my sisters bc i feel like it came out of left field and was very unexpected and really destablised my sense of self (ironic since the point of therapy is to help me with my problems not create new ones)

i've only seen this new therapist for about a month (first two sessions had tech difficulties so we only talked for like 20 min and have only had two full 45 min appts so far) and this whole time i've felt like it hasn't been a good fit. (at the first appt when i told her about struggling with some eating disorder behaviours and how i play violin to keep myself occupied and to distract from engaging in the behaviours, she said "oh you could also try sitting on your hands" .......like what ?.....did she mean this to be helpful ? like wow, why didn't i try sitting on my hands before, so simple !) after each appt i feel more and more misunderstood, i feel like the diagnostic change is rushed and punitive. i've been through therapy before and no other mental health professional (therapist or psychiatrist) has given me this diagnosis. it's so jarring i actually just rang the clinic and asked to see the notes from my previous therapist i started out with when i first moved to nyc (i really clicked with her and i felt genuinely help and seen and understood by her)

anyway now, this week, i have dr appts everyday :(

[blackbird-brewster]

Today sucks.

So basically I'm going through withdrawal now that I've finished my oral steroids I wā son for pneumonia.

Withdrawal is basically very full body, painful, dissociative panic attacks non stop. Woke up with one this morning.

Are and tried to go back to sleep before my therapist appointment phone call

She ended up calling an hour early because of a miscommunication and that really threw off my schedule for the day. I took the call and it was a difficult session bc I've been sick, so I've missed therapy. We usually talk every 2 weeks. Today was the first time in 5 weeks.

Immediately after that I was trying to reheat the lunch my partner made me before I had my session an hour earlier than expected.

Immediately upon walking into the kitchen I'm told we have to get everything wrapped for one part of the family who's going out of town for Christmas (the plan being my FIL would drop off all the gifts for this part of the family to take on holiday with them so the kids can open them on Christmas morning)

So I had to rush around and deal with all that. Still hadn't eaten. I get that done only to find out, they'd already left for holiday so there was actually no rush 😑🫠

All the while I got a bit of surprising news immediately after hanging up with my therapist and it's bringing up a lot of emotions (I know you're reading this and I will repeat I'm not mad at all. It's just surprising news!)

Meanwhile, my brother and I have been texting today and he tells me about all of my cousins and their kids I've never met and it's just a reminder that I have no familial ties to anyone anymore.

Anyway. I fuckin hate this time of year. I am so dissociative and feeling like shit and can already tell I'm burnt-out and it's not even Christmas yet

I hate it here.

[luna-rainbow]

Lifton's postulate for brainwashing

Er, so this is really not my field or comfort zone, but I was researching for my fic/meta and came upon this list, which I thought might be of interest to people.

Robert Lifton is a renowned psychologist who studied PoWs and came up with this 10 step process with which people were "brainwashed", which are also often seen in cults and indoctrination. To me, it also feels like some of the techniques are used by abusers in toxic controlling relationships, because it creates a dynamic where the victim feels like they are dependent on the abuser for guidance and the need to "do good".

See...my take on Bucky's amends is that it was part of the military's process in "reforming" Bucky to align with their purposes.

These methods need the person to be isolated to work, which unfortunately Bucky already is.

1) Assault on identity: "You are not who you think you are"

2) Guilt: "You are bad"

3) Self-betrayal: "Agree you are bad and your family/friends are wrong"

The point of steps 1-3 is basically to make people doubt who they are and what their self-worth and belief systems are. Because of what Bucky's experienced, he doesn't actually need a lot of push to go that way - he already thinks "the Winter Soldier is still in there" and that "I am crazy". The key would be how they play on #3 - would it explain why Bucky suddenly cut contact with Sam? Because they kept feeding him propaganda and he wasn't sure how to talk to Sam any more?

4) Breaking point This is the point the abuser wants to reach with steps 1-3, and HSW explains it best in this quote:

When the target reaches his breaking point, his sense of self is pretty much up for grabs -- he has no clear understanding of who he is or what is happening to him. At this point, the agent sets up the temptation to convert to another belief system that will save the target from his misery.

At this point, people would become highly suggestible to external influence, because their sense of self and their belief system is disrupted.

5) Leniency: "I can help you" A lot of abusive relationships hinge on this point to maintain it. They offer a reprieve from the abuse they've been dealing out, and because it is so different, it almost feels "kind".

While not the same situation in Bucky's case, this may be the purpose of the "pardon". Never mind that he was a prisoner of war subjected to extensive periods of torture and mind-control, never mind that at least in the final few years he was under the control of the secretary of a government organisation...They perpetuate the notion that Bucky himself is guilty, and their offer of pardon is their leniency.

6) Compulsion to confess: "You can help yourself"

7) Channelling of guilt: "This is why you're in pain"

8) Releasing of guilt: "This is how you can change that" I think @ifandomus raised a good point some time ago about how the government would have tried to get Bucky to reveal information - or at least reveal how much he knows, because that may affect whether or not they trust him to be out there potentially revealing things they don't want people to know about.

#7 and #8 play directly into the amends. The guilt is painted as a personal failing, and Bucky is given a personal quest as an outlet and a path (however damaging to both him and the WS's victims) to resolve the guilt. We don't know how he made that list. We don't know why some people's names are on it, while others are not. We do know that Raynor is aware of the list and is probably also aware of the actual names on that list (even before episode 6). What are the chances that - during a period where Bucky was highly suggestible and uncertain - even the amends list was curated by the government?

9) Progress and harmony: "Here is a new belief system that will make you feel better"

10) Final confession and rebirth: "I accept the new belief system" I don't think Bucky quite got to the final 2 stages, and it's probably because he reconnected with Sam and came out of that social isolation where he didn't have an anchor.

I feel like Bucky got the sense that they were trying to get inside his head, hence his antagonism with his therapist (I can't imagine how he would feel after 70 years of people breaking inside his head, to be faced with someone doing it again). But I also think - especially without any sort of background in psychology or even social interactions for decades - he isn't sure whether she really is trying to help and it's just his own distrust getting in the way, so there's a bit of a see-sawing dynamic he has with the psychologist because sometimes he thinks maybe she has a point, and at other times he's on edge and closed off.

My feeling is that he latches so hard onto Steve (Stucky aside) because that is his only guarantee of something being true. Hence a lot of his actions and arguments are based on what Steve did, what Steve said and what Steve left behind.

(I know the show isn't really going this way with it...but I like the thought of Raynor and the therapy sessions all being a giant scam to get Bucky to be a pliable war dog again)

[ladyeliot]

Fragile [1/3]

Part Two

Based on The Falcon and the Winter Soldier

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Fem!Reader

Summary: Who would have thought that fate would bring you face to face with your father's killer? 13 years old, an orphan girl who was taken under the protection of the United States, who was educated to serve the nation and who was now assigned by the CIA to guard what was once one of the most dangerous men in the world.

Warnings: Mentions of murder, psychological problems, violence.

Word count: 2463

A/N: Post Endgame. Sorry for my spelling and grammatical mistakes, English is not my native language, I am learning.

You are waiting for a plane, a plane that will take you far away. You know where you want to go, where you need to go, but you really have no idea where that plane will take you. But it doesn't really matter now, nothing matters because you've lost everything, you have nothing left. Whatever fate throws at you you are willing to accept it, after all you leave nothing behind. That's what you told yourself when in 2009, at the age of thirteen, you boarded that plane that took you out of Iran, when your nuclear engineer father was brutally murdered by someone you could never put a name or a face to. It was not until much later that you discovered the truth of that moment that marked your life forever.

Call it fate, call it chance, but that plane paved your future path. Your destination was the United States, specifically the city of Washington. At the age of 13, when you were a minor, you were detained by the government, assigned to a foster family, preparing you for your future, which already seemed to be written. At 18, the CIA had your position waiting for you, you had been educated and trained for the job, you never had a different opportunity in front of you, but you didn't really want it either.

Your first years within the Central Intelligence Agency you had to learn and live with all the events that that group, called the Avengers, dropped on the nation and the whole world. However, you were not a part of it until it was all over, for like the vast majority of humanity your body vanished from the face of the earth and did not return until years later. That's when it all began. When your superior assigned you a case, his case, to be the shadow of James Buchanaham Barnes, also known as the Winter Soldier, who was going to rejoin society after being pardoned by the government. You didn't know what that meant, what that entailed.

Your move to New York was sudden, the neighbourhood the man had selected to live in was in Sunset Park, a New York borough of Brooklyn, one of the best known ethnic Chinese enclaves. It was really nice, but the building was far less comfortable than the neighbourhood. When you arrived with barely any hot water, you figured that assuming the building looked like it might collapse at the drop of a hat, the plumbing would be no less so. But at least your CIA team had been able to provide you with comfortable furniture and the necessary equipment to do your job.

You had a plan, the plan, you had been analysing Bucky Barnes, his exits from the building, the places he frequented, which were pretty scarce apart from the therapy sessions and the restaurant across the street, and his social relations, which were even scarcer, however he had forged a small friendship with a neighbour in the same building, Yori Nakajima originally from Japan. You didn't have to work out your first meeting, any self-respecting neighbour would help a newcomer to the building during the move.

A dozen cardboard boxes were scattered around the hall of the building, you looked at them with a thoughtful gesture while biting your nails waiting for your dear neighbour to arrive from the laundry next door. You had kept track of the time, and just as you predicted, he came in through the front door with a basket of clean clothes. You continued to look at the boxes, took a breath and exaggerated your gesture of concern, just as he focused his gaze on you.

"Do you need help?" he asked, putting down the laundry basket and approaching you.

You turned your face, still biting your nails, but pretended to be surprised to find him there.

"Oh, don't worry, I only just realised that this building is so green it barely has a lift," you said with a smile, causing Bucky to grin.

"Yes, we like to do our bit for the environment," he said, putting his hand behind his head and then offering it to you in greeting. "Bucky."

"Susan," you smiled and shook his hand, then returned your gaze to the stacked boxes. Evidently that wasn't your real name, it was the name of the person you had invented yourself.

"Come on, let me help you," abandoning his laundry basket he approached your belongings and with barely a reproach he picked up two stacked boxes.

"Oh, God, don't you think you should...?" you began worriedly as you looked at the weight he had taken into his arms.

"Don't worry," he added. "Do you think you could take my clothes?"

That was how it all began. Maybe it could have started some other way, perhaps a chance encounter at the laundromat next door, or when you came out of your government-assigned therapy, or maybe a night at the Japanese restaurant, but no, it was that way. You had no idea how things were going to develop, you had no idea why you were assigned to the case, you were so innocent that you thought it was because of your positive attitude, your willingness to do something relevant, but there was too much hidden behind it that you had hardly a clue. You and that young man were connected, a blood-soaked red thread linked you, but it wasn't until some time later that you discovered it.

Before you knew it, the boxes had gone from being stacked in the hall of the building to being in your small living room. You barely had to feign the surprise you felt as the young man had climbed all four floors in record time.

"OK, who are you? You don't work for a moving company do you?" you laughed and headed towards the small kitchen that was connected to the living room. "If so leave me your card because you'll be the one I call."

"No, not really," he put his hand behind his neck and looked away, he seemed nervous as you tried to start a conversation with him.

"A beer? It's the least I can do," you said, opening the fridge. "Well, and it's the only thing I have apparently."

"Better another time," he commented looking at the basket of clean clothes you had left in the middle of your living room and approaching it to pick it up.

It was at that moment that you noticed the black leather gloves covering his hands, you guessed the fact, surely they were to cover his left hand which complemented his vibranium arm.

"Oh, of course," you closed the fridge the same way you had opened it and leaned against the kitchen island to watch him in the middle of the room with the laundry basket offering you an awkward smile. "Then it only remains for me to thank you again."

"It's been a pleasure," he said without moving from the spot, which made you bite your lip smiling at his awkwardness. "Uh... welcome."

"Thank you," you added, watching him clumsily walk out the door and close it behind him.

The image of Bucky Barnes you had formed in your mind collapsed as soon as you met him. Everything you had seen, read, heard about the man had nothing to do with what you found that morning. Who was this person and what had he done with the Winter Soldier? As soon as you closed the door you opened the box marked 'FRAGILE' and extracted all the archival material that the CIA had compiled for you, and opening your laptop you began to generate your first report on Bucky Barnes, totally contrary to what you had expected to do.

The following days you took it upon yourself to generate spontaneous encounters in the most common places the two of you might frequent. The laundromat or the supermarket were the best selected, you discovered that his lifestyle could be that of any ordinary New Yorker, there was nothing strange, nothing out of the ordinary. You had explained to him the story you had created for Susan, a young immigrant girl who had been adopted at the age of 5 by an American family and had left her small town in the state of Ohio to come to New York looking to live the New York dream. Bucky didn't really talk much, but he was a really good listener. He tended to be quite expressive with his face and as we met, it wasn't so often that he looked away from you, only when you stared at him, which was quite common as his blue eyes tended to evade you too much.

Two months later you received the desired psychological analysis that the therapist had been working on during her sessions with Bucky. Throughout your years of life you had been trained not to engage in any kind of emotional relationship with the cases you were assigned at the CIA, you didn't realise it at first, but it was too big for you. When you opened the envelope, sat down on the couch and began to read each of the reports you felt it, a slight sigh propitiated what was happening, you had felt compassion for him. But who couldn't feel compassion reading that? Session after session, talking about the numerous nightmares that kept him awake, endless lists of his victims he had killed, the tortures HYDRA put him through... it all made your insides churn.

You dropped the papers on the table and thoughtfully paced around the room biting your nails. You had been longing for a case like this for a long time, you had practically begged for it, and now that you were inside it you didn't know if you would be able to face it with a cool head. It was a difficult two weeks, where every conversation with Bucky provoked associations with what you read in the therapist's reports and that made you think too much about what you were doing.

But something happened, one Saturday like any other, your doorbell rang while you were preparing a report to send to your superior, you closed everything running and approached the entrance. As you opened the door the figure of Bucky stood in front of you, while behind him loomed the small body of Yori Nakajima.

"Hey..."

"Come on we don't have all day!" exclaimed Yori tapping Bucky's back with his particular cane.

"I'm coming..." chided Bucky turning his face towards his friend and neighbour.

"Come on!" exclaimed Yori again.

The situation was quite peculiar even for you, who were used to encountering all sorts of situations in your work. Your eyebrows were arched as you leaned against the doorframe waiting for what Bucky was supposed to say. Your two neighbours made a comical but endearing pair. Bucky seemed hesitant to speak, being rather nervous as he fiddled with his gloves, so Yori tapped him again with the cane to push him aside.

"What he wants to tell you is to go on a date with him," Yori said bluntly, to which Bucky exasperatedly sighed and put his hand to his face.

"A date?" you asked arching your eyebrows even more and blinking rapidly.

"Well, it's not exactly that..." began Bucky but again he received another blow from Yori's cane, "Hey! Stop it," he refocused his blue eyes on yours. "I'm sorry..."

"For what, needing help asking me out on a date?" you asked smiling slightly, causing him to do so as well. "Had you come up with any concrete plans or did Yori have to find it for you?"

Your question caused Yori to laugh and leave the place alluding that his work had already been done. You continued to watch Bucky with your arms crossed as you slumped against the door frame. The whole situation was getting too out of hand without you even realising it. You lied to yourself that it could be good for your mission, but none of it was good. At that moment you were just a young girl getting carried away, being asked out on a date by a guy you found really attractive.

"Maybe... tomorrow at eight o'clock? If not..." she asked, putting her hand behind her neck, causing her white t-shirt to ride up and reveal part of her naked lower body.

"Why tomorrow? Why not tonight?" you asked showing complete confidence in your voice.

"Or... sure, tonight," she rectified, nodding.

"All right," you said, smiling, and closed the door, leaving Bucky standing there.

In the back of your mind you were trying to convince yourself that this would be helpful to the investigation, that what the CIA really wanted was for you to maintain contact with him, that he was under your control, that he wouldn't do anything that the government would regret offering a pardon for, and apparently he was. What you didn't know is that it was you who was falling under his control.

Your love life is not what you could call it, you were not someone of long realizations, someone who opened her heart easily, you had never really opened it to anyone, apparently at the age of 13 your heart was broken and of that loving and shy girl there was hardly anything left. Relationships, yes, you had had them, but they were based only on physical contact, no feelings, no emotions, only physical contact. You were stubborn, obstinate and sometimes a little presumptuous, a trump card you played with Bucky, but the innocence was still inside you even if you could hardly notice it.

But believe it or not, those months you were spending in that practically ruined building in the middle of that Brooklyn neighbourhood were changing the course of your destiny, they were connecting you with the loving girl you had once been. Something inside you prevented you from writing reports providing the information the CIA was asking for, it seemed really absurd, but for the last two weeks you had offered details of the conversations you had with Bucky, you were just giving ordinary data, useless to the government, who expected you to relay everything the former Winter Soldier said or did. You would never have thought that anything, or anyone, would have limited your ability to tackle an investigation, but there it was, Bucky had done it in just a few months. You felt so empty, it was easy to connect with someone as empty as you, him.

To be continue...

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