#i think i need a trauma journal

[dyemelikeasunset]

i know the brain unlocks when its safe to, so these flashbacks are a good sign, but the grief is unbelievable

[goldkirk]

I opened Pinterest for the first time in months.

That made me realize a lot about how bad I was actually doing and how much of a Waffle House Index use of Pinterest is for adult me, apparently.

I hadn’t realized it had grown that foundational to me in a healthy-brain-exercise-and-hobby-joy way. Nice to know moving forward! It’s another sign I can keep track of and use to spot correlation/indicator patterns earlier my behavior.

I love this kind of thing, it makes me so excited!

[ypipie]

sooo normal about that memory cult

[ahaura]

ok so like. i had a doctors appt coming up and i never got the labs i was supposed to and was planning about lying about it to my doctor but then i remembered that i'm an adult and i don't have to do that and also by the power of being grownup and also with technology i can reschedule my appointments without having to explain myself. so rescheduled for december so i can get my labs done and feel pretty good about it.

[lovebloods]

.

[graevs666]

it’s rlly hard to see urself as a person deserving of love and to not shutdown when ur not being understood or heard

[supernovasolace]

Gratitude Journal Day 3: Today I am thankful in advance for sensory tools! I live in the US and that means that for at least a few weeks around Independence Day, sudden explosions can happen at any time because people are dicks about fireworks. I'm autistic so my hearing is extremely sensitive, and it's hell on my PTSD. I've injured myself multiple times this week due to startle responses making me jump and slam into furniture. One firework was so loud and close that I had temporary hearing loss for a couple days.

But I *JUST* remembered that I have a pair of those fancy electronic hearing protection headphones from when I used to go to the shooting range! They're the kind that take batteries and make it so you can still hear people talking and things that are a reasonable volume, but they block out everything over a certain decibel level. They're not comfy, but I think they'll help a lot when things get especially loud tonight. Idk why I've never thought to try them for fireworks season before, but I'm grateful I have them on hand!

Our poor anxious kitty gets quite upset from the noise as well, and I'm glad my partner and I considered the potential stress effects on her heart condition and decided to try medicating her this year. I think breaking out some of her pre-vet visit gabapentin will go a long way in helping her be more comfortable and as a bonus, it makes her extra cuddly. We're planning to snuggle in bed together with some fidgets, snacks, and a good show, and just try to keep everybody as calm and comfortable as possible. I'll update this post if my idea about the electronic headphones works well, so that others can give them a try! Wish me luck, Tumblr.

[dyemelikeasunset]

Autobio comic about depression that I did in 4 hours

[fish-and-forbear]

I think I am doing okay, here.

I wish so many things could have been different. My heart aches for it. But I wouldn't have found my voice, otherwise, nor would I have met so many wonderful people and creatures.

I wish the other one would worry less. It's very silly to realize he thought I was the panicked one... now I've organized my mind and honed my edge, and he's the one who keeps feeling down...

I don't entirely understand why... life is very good. Everyone is getting a little better. It aches because I can feel it like a physical creature clawing in the skull, and whispering all of the misery in this world, the atrocities, the tragedies, the possibilities of so many things ending, or of getting hurt or worse for who he is. And being afraid for the people he cares about...

But that doesn't help us sleep right now. It doesn't change that tomorrow morning the sun will rise and we don't have work and we could do anything, within reason of course.

I'm not sure. Maybe I am the stupid one for being so positive. But one of us has to be, now.

Maybe it's just my instincts waking up again. It's so easy to throw my aching heart and memories away when someone I care about needs me. And right now, once more, we just need to rest.

Nothing bad is even happening! We had a nice day. We talked to friends, we played a game and lost track of time because it was so much fun. I liked that game and the name is appropriate, Loop Hero. Ironic but fitting! We helped a friend feel better after a nightmare. And now it's OUR turn to rest.

Nothing is wrong. Everything is alright. Many big steps forward this coming week. I feel his worry creeping into my heart too, but there's no need for it. We were brave and confident before, we can be that way again. :)

- Grist

[piplupod]

the urge to change my name and make a new account to have a fresh clean slate is so big off and on lately djfjkl idk why

i would miss friends and mutuals though and followers i see in my activity feed so i won't do that but like. i kind of wish i could like. not be held down so much by how i feel ppl perceive me, i want to say things or do things that would be considered "out of character" bc i have a lot of shifts going on in brain rn (like things are shuffling around and being re-organized almost?) and i just want to be able to let myself exist without feeling like i need to be consistent fdsfjkl

idk if that makes sense. i probably won't be posting anything to do with that here until its more concrete and i can slowly shift towards that instead of the current state of being, but also i really wish i could share the cool things i'm realizing or piecing together or thinking about, but i just feel like it would be weird or cringe or whatever. but god i feel like this might be really healthy finally and i might be able to like,,, not be literally constantly running shame and suicide in the background of my brain, those might be able to shut down for a bit which would be so nice

[lqnar]

i should write this stuff in my diary

[sensitivegoblin]

Vent

[mommalosthermind]

Okay. Someone tell me how to journal for like, anxiety and general mental health, because I’m apparently anxious about failing journaling.

[elexaria]

dating simon riley wasn’t always easy. “i’m a bloody nutcase, eh?” he’d joke when he’d wake up in a cold sweat, taking deep breaths as his calloused thumb rasps against the soft cotton bedsheets, grounding him back to reality. “puts all my efforts to shame when i wake up like this. fuck’s sake.”

therapy is mandatory, especially given his role as lieutenant. the traumas of childhood, the torture. he thinks he’s good at dealing with his problems, thinks therapy is a waste of time. “what, it’s just a bloke sat there starin’ at me? hell, get me a piece of paper with some made up degree on it and even i could be a therapist.” he grumbles after you point out that, in fact, he’s not as good as coping with his trauma as he thinks he is.

“you need to actually give this a go, si. it’s..” you pause, biting the inside of your lip as you make breakfast. his hair is disheveled, wry strands of grey sticking up against the grain. his dark circles only exemplify just how tired he is, especially when he has his night terrors. you shake your head, sighing as you crack another egg into the frying pan. “how can i expect you to stay safe out there when you’re barely able to look after yourself when you’re home?” you sigh out as he grunts, taking a seat at the small dining table, his eyes skimming through the morning paper.

god, he’s such a stubborn bastard. it takes months to get him to at least consider finding a new therapist, to get him to actually care about his mental health. christ, if he can’t do it for himself, can’t he at least try for your sake?

and then, it’s like he has a lightbulb moment. you come home after a long day at work, only to find him sat at the dining table, writing scruffy notes in a ring bound notebook. “mission notes?” you ask curiously, keeping your eye on him as you make yourself a cup of tea. he grunts, shaking his head as he continues to write.

“it’s a diary. supposed to help with your mental health or summet.” he replies, settling his pen down to meet your gaze. you must have had a look of confusion on your face, and it makes the corners of his lips twitch up into a half-smile. “yeah, i know. a bloke like me with a diary, like i’m a bloody teenage girl.” he quips, now grinning as his fingers toy with the corners of the notebook. “writin’ about all the boys i fancy on the field.” he shoots a wink, before continuing to write some more in his notebook.

it’s actually surprising, a smile on your lips as you watch him in his own little world, actually making an effort in his mental health recovery. you come over, settling a warm cup of tea by him before pressing a gentle kiss to the crown of his head, still smiling as you make your way upstairs to give him some privacy. he comes upstairs after half an hour, chucking the diary into his bedside table drawer before sprawling out onto the bed obnoxiously with a deafening groan. you whine and complain when he purposely stretches on you, gently crushing you with his bolder-esque shoulders with a massive grin on his face.

there were still bad days, though. days where he’d hide himself in the garage to work on some of his projects. but you’re both trying, he feels his heart break when you gently knock on the door, holding a plate of snacks and a cup of tea for him, and fuck, it makes his bad day slightly better.

that evening, he curls up besides you silently on the couch, his journal and pen in hand as he clears his throat. you curiously peer down as he begins to flick through the pages of chicken scratch, gently tapping the page as he looks up at you. he clears his throat, and begins to read out the sweetest paragraph, one that makes your eyes well up with tears.

“no idea where i would be without you, love. you make the darkest days of my life brighter than ever. you make life worth it.” he ends his speech , the timbre of his voice cracking with emotion as he looks at you. and right there, you know that through all the trials and tribulations you two will go through, you’re the love of simon riley’s life and he would never let you forget that.

[graevs666]

x

[mint-fixates]

There's this weird take I've seen floating around on TikTok that Bill doesn't actually care about his family/dimension or Stanford at all; that we're supposed to take everything in TBOB as non-canon basically because he's lying to garner sympathy from reader to make a deal with them. I'm all for having your own interpretations of media, but I just don't think this idea that Bill is a completely heartless unfeeling creature is supported by canon at all. In fact, it kind of feels like the opposite of the point of the book.

Like, yeah, most things Bill says should be taken with a grain of salt because he lies a lot, but he's not actually a very good liar? It's usually pretty easy to clock when he's full of it. But okay, even if we assume every word Bill says while trying to recruit the reader is a lie, there are three major things that this doesn't account for.

Bill is not the only source in the book. The lost Journal 3 pages were written by Stanford, we only know about the interdimensional Taco Bell incident because of an included police transcript, etc.

Even once he's lost any chance of making a deal with the reader to escape, Bill is having a complete breakdown and mentions all the people he so totally doesn't miss for real you guys. Why bother with reverse psychology double-lying for sympathy once his shot at getting the reader on his side is already gone?

Trying to garner the reader's sympathy makes sense to a certain extent, but why go out of his way to make himself look pathetic? Does revealing that he got drunk and cried over his ex in a fast-food drive-through really help his cause if that cause is to convince the reader he's still a powerful being capable of starting the apocalypse again so they can rule with him?

And that's all without even mentioning that, as previously stated, I think the entire point of the book is missed if we're interpreting Bill as having no genuine feelings or attachments. The book ends with Stanford healing from his past by being open about what he went through with his family and accepting their help, while Bill insists he doesn't need anyone and refuses to heal, actively making himself worse in the process. The clear theme imo is that accepting your past and accepting help from people who love you is essential to healing, while denying those things just makes everything worse. If Bill doesn't actually care about his family, his dimension, Stanford, or anything/anyone else, he has no trauma to heal from or regrets to learn from that he's refusing to accept and deal with, and the entire meaning of the book is made moot.