#i'm just kind of regular Adult Depressed now

[dearfuturehusbandblog]

Let's Get Medical, Medical 🎶

Dear Future Husband,

I normally don't talk about these things with anyone, but I think I'm at a point where I need to just lay it all out there.

My body is a mess.

And nobody knows why.

Just a heads up, I will be talking about female reproductive health here. Abandon all hope, ye who enter here.

I started writing this a month ago, but life and times got in the way, so here's where I started, and I'll update where needed:

Let's shuffle back in time a bit....

My siblings and I were all born with a lot of hair, but apparently mine was impressive for some reason. My mom had a friend who would say something like "the girl is 2 but her hair is 16!"

Which is to say that it was super noticeable when I started to lose my hair as a teenager. Mostly because by the time I was 16, my hair was as thin as a 2yo's.

Did that lady make an ayin hara? Or is it just life being life? Who even knows.

Between food allergies, migraines, obesity, emotional neglect, meal skipping, chronic stress, anxiety, and depression... it's kind of shocking I even made it to teenagehood.

Yet, there I was - 16 years old, having never had a period, obese, and losing my hair. Also I had noticeable strands of gray hair.

I was tested for anemia and that came back negative. So MotherLivelyHeart dragged me around to a few specialists who did exams and blood work, and one even tested a birth control pill on me to see if they could diagnose or rule out PCOS.

Everything came back inconclusive.

And because I was surrounded by a lot of shrugging adults and nobody pushed for real answers, everything was just kind of dropped.

When I was in seminary, away from my family for a year+, eating 3 meals a day with my peers, and walking everywhere, I actually ended up starting and maintaining a fairly regular cycle. And I lost some major weight, which I'm sure helped.

But I was manipulated into coming back and starting college immediately. Manipulated into thousands of dollars worth of student loan debt. And I was living at home again with my dysfunctional family. Fun.

My cycle stopped again in under 2 years. And over those first like 6-7 years I gained all that weight back, despite eating a balanced diet high in vegetables, whole grains, and protein. The meal-skipping probably didn't help.

It's been about 10 years since then and if I actually kept track, I could probably count the number of periods I've had on two hands.

But because I'm a mess of a human, I haven't actually tracked that properly. And at this point, if some kind of spotting I had over the summer wasn't an actual period, it's probably been 2+ years since I've had one.

Because of the lack of proper menses, the hair loss, the obesity that's hard to lose, and some significant facial hair (particularly on the chin that end up as in-grown hairs that lead to acne), the presumed diagnosis has always been somewhere in the range of PCOS, despite all the results coming back inconclusive.

Now, I'll be honest - not having a period doesn't really bother me. It probably should, but it means I don't have to deal with monthly mood swings (I deal with enough mental anguish as it is), and I don't have to spend money on pads or tampons or anything, which makes whatever this condition is pretty budget friendly for someone who's barely making it by paycheck-to-paycheck.

The biggest thing that bothers me is the hair-loss. I hate it. I hate how I look. I hate how I feel. I hate how people stare. I hate how everyone questions it. And I hate that I live in a community where only married women cover their hair, so if I cover mine I get comments on the covering.

I literally had a conversation with a woman at work a couple of years ago (stop me if I've told you this before) who asked me what my maiden name was and when I told her lightheartedly "oh, I'm not married, I'm just wearing a hat" she berated me for "being deceptive" and "lying to people."

As though I was doing it davka to offend her and not for my own self-esteem.

Yeah. She can take a long walk off a short peer.

Since I've gotten with this new doctor this year, we discussed ruling out or getting a formal diagnosis for PCOS. So I've had multiple blood tests.

And wouldn't you know...

All inconclusive.

Again.

In fact, as the doctor put it to me when I saw her in person, "it's almost abnormal how normal your bloodwork is."

Well, isn't that a relief.

It's concerning how unconcerning my results are.

Fascinating.

Aside from elevated liver enzymes (fatty liver - a family trait), low vitamin d (I'm now on a supplement), and high cholesterol (I think that's a relatively new thing because of some other things I was doing this year)... every other result came back almost smack dab in the normal range.

One of the other things she had me do for the PCOS diagnosis was get a trans-vaginal ultrasound.

I wanted to die.

I don't even like to see my own naked body, let alone let anyone else see it. Let alone insert anything into it.

The last time I'd seen anyone for anything below the belt like that was around 2007, I think. And that doctor did a gynecological exam in a brightly lit room, with my legs spread wide open.

As a minor.

I wanted to die.

So I thought this was going to be the same type of situation. But shock of all shocks, it was almost like going to a spa. The room was dimly lit with warm lighting and beautiful paintings on the walls.

The sonogram tech walked me through how the whole procedure works, she had me use the bathroom to fully empty my bladder, and then back in the room she handed me a sheet to cover myself and situate myself on the table, and then...

She instructed me to insert the f***** thing into myself.

I wanted to die.

"You need to do it because you can tell what's most comfortable for you," she says to the mid-30s woman who has never had sex a day in her life.... "I'm going to put some lubricant on it and hand it to you under the sheet, insert it into yourself and when you're comfortable, I'll take over."

She was very nice, very respectful, and the whole thing was over relatively quickly without her seeing any of my nether regions.

But I still wanted to drive into a brick wall when I left.

Especially because, although the appointment didn't take that long, the hospital had recently moved the department to another "zone" of their campus and google led me to the old entrance, so I parked in the wrong parking garage and had to trek 10-15 minutes through the hospital each way to/from my car and ended up overshooting the free 1 hour parking by like 6 minutes, and I forgot to ask for validation, so I had to pay for parking.

But I digress...

The results of that ultrasound came back and there was no evidence of PCOS on my ovaries. In fact, quite the opposite. Not only were there no cysts, but the ovaries for people with PCOS are apparently usually larger and mine are on the smaller side. Also there were no visible follicles.

Lack of visible follicles can usually be attributed to a hormone imbalance, but... my hormones are all in the normal ranges.

So yet again, everything is inconclusive.

And none of it makes any sense.

The last thing of note from that exam was that my endometrium is a bit on the thicker side and has an irregular texture.

This means that I now have a gyno appointment in a month for further exam and a pap smear.

I want to die.

I don't think I can fully express to you how visceral my body reacts to even thinking about these appointments. I literally want to throw myself out a window.

But whatever. It was one moment in my life and I can forget it ever happened, right? These people are professionals. They do this all the time for countless individuals. I'm one of a billion and they'll never remember me.

"But what if they do......?"

Yeah, I can't shut my brain off.

In addition to all of that, I attempted to get a celiac diagnosis because I've been off of gluten for almost a decade now because even a 1/4tsp of pasta water sent my stomach into convulsions.

And yet.... in order to do the celiac testing I've had to eat gluten every single day for about two months and not only did the antibody results come back negative, but I've been able to eat gluten every day for two months without pain.

I also did the genetic blood test and that came back with only one of two markers for celiac, so yet again negative/inconclusive results.

Nobody knows why for almost a decade I had to avoid gluten.

Nobody knows why all of a sudden I can eat it again with no problems.

NOTHING MAKES SENSE.

It's like when you take the car to the mechanic and describe the insane noise it's been making for the last week and the mechanic turns it on and it won't make the noise.

I can describe in great detail all the issues I have but from a scientific standpoint, all my blood markers say I'm relatively normal and healthy.

Other things have been upsetting my digestive system, so the doctor also wants me to see a gastrointestinal doctor.

Which means more probes. And probably a colonoscopy. Fantastic.

And I have to get glasses.

And I have to get the fillings that were just refilled for the first time since like 2009 rechecked because I'm having sensitivity in one of those teeth.

And figure out what the hell is wrong with my feet.

And maybe see an audiologist or neurologist to figure out why I have tinnitus in my 30s.

And then probably see a dermatologist to determine what the hell is causing the hair loss because after all of this, if it's not a hormone imbalance and isn't associated with PCOS, "it's probably alopecia" which doesn't explain why it came along with delayed puberty, underdevelopment, and is more like male pattern baldness....

Because FML, right?

Because everything is wrong and nobody knows why.

On paper, I'm a healthy individual.

In reality, I haven't had a proper menstrual cycle in like 15 years, I'm wildly overweight, and have almost no hair on my head.

The wild thing about this state of "infertility" is that it would be nice to have a diagnosis. It would be nice to have an explanation. It would be nice to know why this is happening and have a clear path as to how to fix it.

But I don't have that.

I have vagueties. (Is that a word?)

And the vagueties are what allow room for miracles. Because Hashem works in the gray areas.

Ok, here's the life and times update:

So, since I started writing this a month ago, the appointment with the gyno was actually yesterday.

And I'm an idiot.

I scheduled my whole life to be there at 3pm, assuming that the 2:45pm I had put on my calendar was me factoring in an additional 15 minutes for traffic and paperwork or whatever, but it turns out that's when the appointment started. And after dealing with stupid traffic and everything, I walked in at 2:57pm.

Because I'm an idiot.

The gynecologist is super nice and super pretty, which sucks. Why does a pretty person have to look at my ugly body?

We did the initial "tell me about your life" stuff (kind of rushing through which I didn't realize was my own damn fault) during which she mentioned that she would probably diagnose me with PCOS but she wants new tests just to double check everything.

Apparently there's something called the Rotterdam Criteria for PCOS, which she recommended I look up. Turns out it's essentially the same criteria I had discussed with my primary doctor, but without the fancy terminology, yet my primary came to the conclusion it wasn't PCOS.

So... huh?

The criteria are:

Irregular menses Menstrual cycles that are shorter than 21 days, longer than 35 days, or fewer than eight cycles in a year 

Hyperandrogenism Elevated levels of testosterone, DHEA-S, or clinical signs like acne, hirsutism, or alopecia 

Polycystic ovaries At least 12 ovarian follicles measuring 2–9 mm in diameter in one ovary, or an ovarian volume of more than 10 mL in one ovary 

And for diagnosis, 2 of the three are required.

My primary doctor's conclusion was based on no polycysts on the ovaries and my hormones coming back normal.

My gynecologist, however, said that since I have things like the hair issues, that's a clear indication of hormone imbalance, even if when tested the hormones are coming back normal.

I literally don't understand the science of medicine.

Either way, that's what we're looking at diagnosing now.

Again.

Then she sent me off to an exam room, instructing me to "get fully undressed, put on the gown and tie it in front, and sit up on the table with the sheet across your lap."

Fun.

And I guess it makes sense that the exam room has to be sterile and brightly lit.

But I still wanted to die.

Like, you talk about vulnerable positions to be in, but damn. Being an ugly human, mostly naked in a brightly lit room, legs open wide with a beautiful lady poking around your nether regions... this is immediately something I want to erase from my brain as something I've done in my life.

"I know this is uncomfortable, but just remember I do this every day, so it's not as uncomfortable for me."

*super awkward laugh of "ok, that literally doesn't make me feel better but thanks"*

She did the pap smear and a breast exam (which I didn't even know gynecologists do, but I guess you learn something new every day, eh?) and I should note that she asked me if I wanted each of those things, so I did consent to them, despite neither being strictly necessary.

For those who don't know, a pap smear is a test they do to check for cervical cancer. Which is primarily associated with the HPV virus, which is generally spread by sexual contact in that region.

Reminder: I have never had sexual contact in that region.

Here's the fun explanation I found online of what they do: A speculum is inserted into the vagina to widen it. Then, a brush is inserted into the vagina to collect cells from the cervix. The cells are checked under a microscope for signs of disease.

She said she didn't see me as being a high candidate for the virus or for that type of cancer, and that as I'm an adult woman I have the right to say no, but she would recommend it just to be able to check the overall health of the region and rule things out.

According to the internet, a pap smear may be uncomfortable, but it should not hurt. For some reason, for me, it stung. I have literally no idea why. As I'm writing this, it's been over 12 hours and I'm still having mild discomfort in that region. So, that's fun.

Maybe it's cuz I've never had sex before and don't make a habit of sticking things down there that stretch the space open? I have no clue. She didn't seem all that concerned, despite me clearly stating it was stinging. So maybe it's just nothing.

She didn't spend a lot of time down there, so I'm not sure how much of an exam she actually did aside from the pap smear part, but after informing me that my breast tissue feels normal, which is a good sign, she sent me off down the hall for some blood work, then I scheduled a follow up for two weeks from now to discuss results, and that was really the end of the visit.

At this point, I have no idea what the future holds.

When we were doing the patient history portion of our conversation she clarified with me that I wasn't and hadn't been pregnant and then she asked if I would like to be.

And I honestly didn't know how to answer that.

Because I honestly don't know.

I joked that I don't mind so much not having to deal with periods like my friends and family members, especially because my family members get crazy when hormones factor in, which obviously happens around that time of the month.

But that's not a real answer.

On the one hand, I would love to know what it feels like to carry a child inside me. To have a child literally built out of love. To hold that baby in my arms and know that I worked so hard to bring that being into life. To see which of my features this tiny human has.

On the other hand, I don't want to repopulate my genetics. I don't know how my body will respond to the stress of a developing human. I don't know if I have the emotional or physical strength to be a mother. And I don't know if I want to raise children is this screwed up world that seems to be getting worse every single day.

And I don't know if you, my dear future husband, actually exist or if this is all just a hypothetical anyway.

Every day of my life right now is one step closer to 40 years old.

And in the great scheme of things, especially in this age where people are living older and we still bless "to 120," 40 years is literally just the first third of life. That's not even middle aged. Yet at the same time, being a first-time parent at 40 is tough. Especially when you consider that the body starts breaking down at that point and my body is already a mess. I've felt like I'm 80 years old since I was like 8 years old. I guess if that age were accurate I'd be closer to 120 already....

And I'm still dealing with financial problems.

And family problems.

And emotional problems.

And the world just flat out suuuuuucks right now.

And I still don't see an escape from any of this.

So... do I want to get pregnant?

I guess in an ideal world, yeah.

In a realistic world, I would say "that's up to Hashem" except that it seems that "up to Hashem" is my body not functioning in a way conducive to having children, so I guess that's my answer.

They say that every single problem you could possibly have in life can be found in the Torah. And barrenness is something that afflicted 3/4 of our imahos as well as Chana, all of whom eventually bore their own children.

But I'm not a Sarah, I'm not a Rivka, I'm not a Rachel, and I'm not a Chana. And I don't see how knowing that they were able to have natural children when I still know some amazing women who haven't is supposed to make me feel better about my circumstances.

Women are supposedly on a higher spiritual plane than men. We're supposed to be more in tune with our neshamos, with our connection to Hashem, which is what allows us to be the bearers of new life.

What does that say about me? My connection to Hashem sucks and this doesn't really make it better.

I know everyone has a different role in life, and some aren't meant to marry or have children because they wouldn't be able to accomplish what they're sent here to accomplish with those commitments in their lives.

But some people seem to be able to accomplish great things while juggling staying healthy and having a family and working high powered jobs, etc.

And I suck at literally the bare minimum. Literally just existing sucks for me.

And knowing that "my role" isn't "their role" and "that's ok" doesn't make me feel better about any of it.

But it's almost 6am and I'm awake for no reason and heading off on tangents of mental health sadness while the whole point of this was just the physical stuff.

Oh! And speaking of physical stuff, I literally forgot to mention that when I went to get the blood work done, I got a medical text telling me to schedule an appointment. It said "advanced radiology" and stupid me just closed the text, thinking it was for the blood work which was what I was already doing.

But no.

Apparently the gyno put me down for ANOTHER transvaginal ultrasound.

And by the time I realized that, the doctor's office was already closed so I couldn't ask her about that, because we went over the fact I'd had that done recently and didn't recall her mentioning I'd need another one.

So FML.

#1 thing on today's to-do list.

Fun.

So anyways, that's where we're at now. I either might have PCOS or definitely not have PCOS. Regardless, I will probably have to be poked and prodded yet again in regions of my body I'd rather forget exist. All to get a diagnosis for something that may or may not be meaningful, depending on whether I can figure out if having children is something I ever even want to do in this life.

And I don't know. I just don't know.

I'd say I'd leave that up to Hashem, but He's the reason I'm fat, ugly, balding, unmarried, and childless now, so.... that's helpful.

-LivelyHeart

Edited to add: I contacted the gyno and it turns out the second sonogram was ordered by mistake. Good thing I contacted her and didn't just schedule the exam!

[donnerpartyofone]

nothing to see here.

the excitement of picking up a part-time coffee shop gig -- that is to say, of finding absolutely any work, anywhere, after many years of searching -- has quickly given way to embarrassment that this is literally the best i can do as a middle-aged adult. i was already feeling the weight of this, just from remembering all the radical changes i made and optimistic risks i took that produced nothing, and thinking about past and future family gatherings where someone inevitably puts me on the spot about being a loser, when the boss at one of my side gigs asked me pointedly, "are you really working in a coffee shop?" yes, dude, i'm really this worthless, sorry you have such an embarrassing colleague but i don't know what you want me to say.

and then because i have a really problematic propensity for internalizing the voices of others and anxiously anticipating arguments, because they always seem to come no matter how clear i am about my position, i have to think about the double standards i'm working with and why i believe they are correct:

no, of course i do not judge other middle-aged adults, or anyone really, who do manual labor. actually i don't judge anyone for how they make money, as long as it's not harmful to other people. i judge myself because of how my employment affects me personally. i judge my own failure to become responsible, because it has negatively affected my security and stability, and my ability to provide support to other people. if it were a separate person who put me in this position, i would hate that guy, and nobody would tell me not to. but i'm the one who did this and it would be unnatural not to blame myself. to force myself not to pass this judgment would be to say that i'm not entitled to my feelings, which is its own form of painful derangement.

by the same token, i cannot just choose to be extremely proud of myself because, i don't know, people think PMA is the answer to everything. my most regular writing job is for a barely-literate content mill where i can't stomach more than a sentence or two of the articles, and i make what amounts to about $1/hr...and yet when i say this is not serious writing, this job definitely does not make me "a writer", somebody always has to tell me that i should place a higher value on my work. and it's always somebody who does not read my work and would never consider visiting the website, or buying anything i have physically published. but people just have this prejudice that you're only a failure if you don't have this weirdly inflated sense of self-importance based on nothing in particular. and it's amazing how often someone who is really professionally successful tells you that you should be artificially proud of everything you do, and you should be magically immune to the immense social (and survival-related) pressure to succeed at something. rich people are always the first to tell you that money doesn't matter, and hot people are always the first to tell you that looks aren't important, and these people are always extremely confused and indignant when you fail to automatically manifest the kind of enlightened self-esteem that was advertised to us in the PSA epilogues of saturday morning cartoons. which is all to say i think it's great if people have enlightened self-esteem about whatever they do in life, no matter how menial it seems to others. but i'm not crazy or weak for feeling bad about the state of my life, which comes from me, and affects me directly. i am not choosing to be frustrated and depressed on purpose, and treating me like that's my only problem is one of the main factors in making everything even less bearable than it already is.

PS the people who treat me this way are generally the same people who encouraged me to place risky bets on myself, and who now insist that i not be "negative" about my shameful failure to fulfill any of the ambitions i stupidly cultivated. so uh fuck all those people, is the moral of this story, i think.

[zalrb]

PLL Review 3x05 - As Per Anon Request (if that's still something you all want? idk)

Did you miss me? xoxo Sorry, wrong show: thought you get rid of me that easily? SURPRISE BITCHES - Z

Totally missed that New A almost killed Caleb's mother.

Wait, didn't Aria have short hair? That lasted, like, an episode.

So, no one in this small town, where there are two dead girls, a suicide, and a bunch of weird shit happening is going to look out their windows or open their doors when someone gets carted away in an ambulance?

The way Rosewood is so obviously a set is hilarious.

Jesus christ, can Lucas go away?

AND Paige?

It's so funny how all of the extras wear practical-ish (because flats are still, well, you know, flats) shoes but the mains and the supporting cast have to wear shoes like these

I know her eyebrows are aching. I know it.

It's funny how I'm seeing the way Shay acts now start to emerge in season 3.

She's still terrible.

"Em, Mona may not be the only person in Rosewood who owns a black hoodie!" LOL, she's got a point.

"Don't look" *Emily immediately looks*

This cafe just looks like Karen's cafe.

Everyone having crazy eyes today

but Spencer always had crazy eyes, she's the PLL original

"Every time you baby squirrel Ezra, you take away his nuts" she's a child. He is an adult. Good line, though.

"He just got an invitation to Ezra's birthday party." HE IS AN ADULT.

"Kevin said the birthday girl is set on a certain look" it's a cafe. It's not the Mikaelson ball.

LMAO putting on a clip-on tie for ~ tension ~ that's not how it works.

"I meant to toss it but I was afraid my mom would find it in the garbage." So toss it in a public trash can? Oh my god, TEEN if you're going to teen.

Wait, why is Harper who is not Harper still at this cafe if Emily isn't there? I thought she told him to hang out there so she could speak to him and then she just ... doesn't? She went home? WHY IS HE THERE THEN.

"See you tomorrow." "Must be great to say that and mean it." LMAO that is a WILD thing to say to someone who was blind. And why are there so many shots at her being or having been blind???

Harper has Spock ears.

Jenna gets all the boys and I'm not sure how or why. Nothing about her is particularly charismatic or charming. Every girl falling for Emily is kind of like, I get it I guess, she's like Serena, it's all the hair.

Hanna is just wearing regular clothes and everyone is like omg you look terrible. It's the best she's looked.

"Because Spencer! I'm too depressed to work a zipper, get over it!" Hanna, you seem FINE. You're like Elena when she was SO depressed over Damon and she was out here like

At least when Rory was trying her best not to wallow over Dean, you saw her actively try to avoid it.

Spencer looks like she owns a botanical shop

Giving Hanna short hair just makes her look her age i.e. 23/24

Ezra, do you even like her?

he is trying

to do this face

"OK, so, he's FINALLY chosen some flowers, which are hideous and tacky." I've said it before and I'll say it again, the dialogue on this show is very teen.

But these are details you tell Hanna, Spencer, not Emily.

I love how Emily is wearing gloves to handle the food but not a hairnet for her hair. It's in one but it's not even in a bun.

"Em, his mom is in a coma."

Every time I see Spencer, I just think of

Hanna, why would Emily know how her jacket ended up in a donation box?

"But I gotta say, she's pretty intriguing." IS SHE?

You put like a sip's worth of alcohol in your drink, Paige, why even bother.

Ezra, you're at a party for teenagers. Look at yourself. Then again, it isn't your first time.

"Oh, he's not in high school." No, he just taught it.

I like how Paige is basically Harry to Cho when she wasn't over Cedric dying like omgggg get OVER it alreadyyyyyyyy

Why.

I'm laughing so hard. This show is so bad at seamlessly entwining the romances. Like Spencer, you're BUSY.

"Did she sleep with her sunglasses on?" LOL Spencer, you know damn well, she wouldn't have done that blind either.

This episode has a serious lacking of Mona.

PAIGE gets hurt more than Aria?? PAIGE?

"Nate, would you mind getting some coffees" is rude af, Emily, YOU get the coffees and bring Hanna with you.

"Maybe Jenna wasn't the only person I saw that night." Go to the clairvoyant child. Like why even introduce him.

I know they're arguing right now but this is always his face

I am laughing so hard. Ezra pulling up on Lucas blocking Aria reminds me so much of Edward pulling up to save Bella. I hate them so much.

Paige, you drank from someone else's flask the entire night. Come on.

omgggggggg it's Lucassssssssssssssss.

Every episode should have Mona in it, idk.

[bijouxcarys]

I didn't have anywhere else to kind of talk about this, and I need to get it out of my system somehow, so I'm just putting this on here. Maybe someone can relate to it?

TW/ self-harm, suicidal ideology, please don't read this if it's going to potentially trigger you.

If you don't think this will trigger you, I still suggest you read on. Anyone around you could be experiencing this right now, and it's a very real thing.

Here's the reality of living as an adult with autism, who wasn't diagnosed until the age of 18.

It fucking sucks. To put it mildly.

Growing up as an undiagnosed autistic child is difficult. Especially if you are beaten down verbally by everybody to the point where you believe that you are, in fact, a bad kid. I'm convinced that's had a hand in why I'm so paranoid about my relationships with people. If I'm doing something to upset or annoy them.

You spend your entire childhood being told that you're the problem, when you're just trying to fucking survive in a world that's hard enough to live in without the added stress of developmental disorders, and you're going to believe for the rest of your life that you're the problem.

That is, unless you're able to go and see a therapist or counsellor.

Which leads me to my next point: we are conditioned to believe that we aren't allowed to ask for help, because we can never take on the advice anyways! 18 years of being told that I'm being dramatic, by my own counsellor as well, definitely dampens your willingness to attend any kind of talk therapy.

You get trauma building up over time from the rejection sensitivity, the amount of friend groups you plow through, the anxiety and depression that come as a result of how your brain is wired. It's not even that you have depression or anxiety; a lot of the time, they are symptoms of our autism. But they don't care. They'll feed us antidepressants.

I've been on antidepressant medication for a long time now. I'd argue about 6 years. I'm 22 now, on 200mg of sertraline daily. Last year I tried to come off my medication. Big mistake. Realised I'm kind of fucked without it.

Back in 2019, I used to take my antidepressant in liquid form because I had a sensitivity to swallowing pills. One day, my inability to read social cues and communicate effectively with my friends led me to drink the whole bottle of Fluoxetine.

When you're undiagnosed with autism and you have to go through regular life every day, it's damaging. So dangerous to the mental health of the child. The more we are put in situations that can overstimulate us, and overwhelm us, the more it takes from your ability to cope with life. You get beaten down, and beaten down, and beaten down, until you're an emotionless entity wandering the Earth with no solid ambitions or aspirations. You've spent your entire life in defense mode, mirroring everyone's behaviour and personalities so that you feel the tiniest bit "normal" out of pure survival, that you lose a sense of who you are as a person. You feel stripped of your personality. You don't know what you're doing.

Then you get thrust into the real world. What the fuck am I supposed to do now? I don't know how to survive in a world that isn't made for me. I don't know how to tell people I'm autistic, because a) they very rarely understand what I mean by that, and what it entails, and b) I don't even know enough about my autism.

Why? Because I wasn't diagnosed until just before I turned 18 - got discharged from CAMHS (Child and Adolescence Mental Health Service) once I turned 18, with no referral to a counsellor that could help me, and no information on what the fuck I should do next.

I've stayed in education because it's the only thing I know how to survive. I went to college, university, and now I'm doing a master's degree online. And I still don't really know what my goal is in life.

I have no friends, and I flip-flop between being upset about it and being absolutely fine with it. I don't leave the house, I don't work, I even struggle to do the most basic of daily tasks.

I'm constantly fantasising about a life I could have, but ultimately realise I can't have.

My brain is fucked up, and I am traumatised by the life I've had to live and survive in. And now I'm stuck in survival mode.

And I don't know how to live, instead of simply exist.

That's where the suicidal ideology comes in. I'm constantly thinking about how much easier everything would be if I did just off myself. But the thing is, I'm not actively planning it, but the thought brings me great comfort. There's always a way out. And I can't expect that I'll leave this world any other way.

Now... when an autistic person, or any person, tells you that they don't want to die, but thinking about killing themselves brings them a sense of comfort and contentment... there's something wrong there.

There's nothing I want more than to start living. But when it takes 110% of my energy to do the bare minimum... living becomes synonymous with existing.

Not being taught how to deal with the meltdowns, the overstimulation, the understimulation, the food sensitivities, the way the world functions... has fucked me up, for myself, and for everyone else around me.

And when given the choice between spending the rest of my life putting all my energy into living the way I do now, and killing myself and saving myself from the pain, the latter sounds far more enticing.

I don't want to die. But to live is too much of an enigma to want anything other than the silence.

[doubleddenden]

Second review of the 3 anime finale on Toonami: Rick and Morty the Anime

I will preface this by saying (and I humbly ask for no personal attacks on this) that I honestly do not like normal Rick and Morty to begin with.

Don't read if you don't vibe with that. RnM fans tend to be very... extra, in some regards, taking too much after Rick- so that's the warning, you'll be in for a bad time if you like the base show and wanna read further.

The reasons I dislike regular RnM is because the art style is gross and ugly for the sake of being gross and ugly, and the writing reeks of depressed nihilistic cynicism that shits all over any character that dares to want something normal or even happy, and the comedy writing is just not really that funny beyond a couple of jokes. I hate Rick- I have seen episodes, multiple before, and I just can NOT stand him. "Oh great you didn't know this very impossible to know thing and now you fucked up, great, real classy, you should feel bad and or kys" or "I personally don't like you and I'm going to make it the multiverse's and my family's problem" are not traits I find admirable (and no, he doesn't really get much better, he's still an asshole no matter how much development he gets). The family isn't really much better tbh and all hate each other, something I hate about modern adult cartoons including the ugly art style and grossness just to be gross. That's just my opinion, I get that people like the show (it's been renewed for like a seasons 8, 9, 10, and 11 already), but I honestly cannot grasp it.

So why watch the anime? Well, it was on Toonami, may as well, and I thought with different writers it might be different too. I did mildly enjoy some of the tone shift from one of the other anime shorts, which made Rick vaguely less of an asshole and more like someone that actually cares about his family beyond how they personally benefit him- so I wanted to give it a shot.

Its............ it's uh..... well, it happened. I think I can say that. That's not good or bad. Just... yeah. Mid.

There's a severe tonal shift from (badly written) adult comedy with an ugly art style that thinks "Morty, we gotta fight the Dick Clenchers of Splotchulon 5, Morty, you'll never guess why they're called that, Morty, its- it's because they clench your dick, Morty. Now help me work on my shit machine that shits actual shit" is funny, to something that REALLY tries to take itself super seriously with a ton of angst and drama- like if Family Guy (also hate it) suddenly tried to make a live action season without its bad comedy and references and instead decided to make a dramatic, murder mystery plot line over a season without a SINGLE joke or flashback, played completely seriously. In other words, it is really unsettling to see a show so disingenuous try to be genuine, but just come across as weird and off putting.

And while I can say I didn't hate some of the aspects of it, I can't say I really enjoyed or understood most of it either. Elle is a pretty fun character for a bit, but doesn't really have much personality beyond being in love with Morty and being some kind of time perceiver. The other characters are also weirdly characterized to be less consistent with their regular counterparts- I mean there's still a couple of moments where Rick is an asshole to Morty or Jerry or where Summer is vaguely a bitch like usual, but otherwise they may as well be completely different characters. I guess the canon material would allow this as an AU in the multiverse, but it's still... weird. Very weird. I would prefer anime Rick over real Rick because again, he's LESS of an asshole and kind of mysterious- but mid overall.

The plot is also weird and overly complex for what it's supposed to be. I mean it's better than a plot device powered by an infinite wall of tortured Morties, but we're talking about some sections that confuse me so much, that Kingdom Hearts makes more sense to me.

I wish I could say the animation and art style were better, but this is like saying a piece of stained printer paper is better than a dirty toilet. The animation is just blocky, and the characters transition weirdly to this style- like it's an anime, but they want to maintain the gross art style of the original in a vague way. Elle is actually just fine and looks cute in both her versions, but she is also directly created for this series and isn't adapted for anything. Idk I know I'm an outsider and some RnM fan is really tempted to tell me to kms over that, but hear me out on this: if your thing is to make an ugly American cartoon into an anime, maybe try making it look genuine instead of weird and off putting. I mean, it worked for the Simpsons Death Note episode.

Personally, I feel like this anime was just made as a way to get around the Writer's Strike from last year. In fact, I half expected from this episode or a future one for the real series to look at this and be like "oh yeah, that'll show the writers to demand a fair wage. Good thing that's not canon, right? Looks like shit. " it does not feel like anybody's best work and serves more like a fan's overly angst filled AU.

Well anyway, a 5/10 feels fine. Mid as fuck.

[anjumbai]

Remembering: Neon Genesis Evangelion

Director: Hideaki Anno

I must not run away.

Another one of those anime that I watched Gigguk make loads of videos on. There's an almost persuasion quality to his videos, where he doesn't directly try to persuade you into watching an anime. Instead he makes love letters in the form of video essays on different anime, which sound so artistic and funny that you want to watch the anime just so you can grasp all of what he's saying. Sure, you can talk about anything passionately and people will find it beautiful. But it's a totally different thing when you love somebody's work so much that you wanna pick it up yourself and try it. Just so you can experience a fraction of what they did. I picked up journaling like that once. It really is beautiful what somebody's passion can make you do.

So NGE, another anime that I watched during Covid lockdown. I've loved this anime for how simply it tore apart all of it's narrative just so the depressed middle aged man known is Hideaki Anno could grasp the world's attention and deliver his message. His message was as simple as -"I don't like life. I'm no good and this world has no place for me. Somebody please, see me." As Gen Z, nothing beat a sweet glass of milk with depression back then.

What do I remember about NGE? Well-

Never skipped the damn intro. ZANKOKU WA TENSHI- *head beat intensifies*

Shinji was a pu*sy. It seemed that most of the viewers agreed that Shinji was a coward when it came to facing his life head on. While his behavior has always been memed, the same viewers were as sympathetic to him as they were critical. It was easy to make fun of him, but imagining myself in his shoes was really tough as well.

Rei was nice.

The adults were as hopeless as the teenage cast. None of the adults managed to act as adults where they should have. That resulted in a different kind of fucked up-ness. Shinji's father was a menace to him, burdening him with responsibilities totally not appropriate for a teenager of 14. I don't remember the age but yeah. You could see adults making moves on kids so that they could suffice for their loneliness; and you would think that how can that pass in a show? Well, it all seemed so subtle that you'd have to read some analysis on the characters. It was all pretty fucked up.

I read at least 2 reddit posts for analysis on each episode. At first, I thought I should do it because it's a mecha anime with loads of robots and prophetic terms. But soon you will come to realize that these religious terms and extremely cool robots were just for show, just to look cool. You didn't need to analyze any of it nor did you need to know what angels were, what was the spear of longinus or anything of that sort. As the story unfolds, you could see it was a deep revealing of Hideaki Anno, the director's troubled and disturbed mental state.

FLY ME TO THE MOON.

The studio lost it's budget before it could even end the show properly. You would have one shot of animation running for 10 minutes to end an episode, accompanied only by the dialogue. The last episodes used colorless panels of animation- even a regular viewer could see this as a budget cut rather than an artistic choice. But just because of this- they put some extra care on the only panels they could draw. You couldn't help but smile at a studio's budget constraints.

These are actual frames from the final episodes.

The anime finished with me gaining some deep knowledge on human emotions and that is what made NGE memorable to me. I still remember most of the lessons I learned and happen to instinctively follow now.

Evangelion is divided in 3 parts imo. The first is the original anime, then the follow up artistic movie called End Of Evangelion- my favourite movie this day, and the Rebuild of Evangelion movies. I loved Gigguk's explanation on how part 1 was an insight on the troubled mental state of Hideaki Anno. It showed how he failed to deal with emotions, how human interaction can leave you so hurt and how pointless all the pain seemed. End of Eva seemed like an acceptance stage of the pain, the woe and the inabilities. And the rebuild showed full acceptance of life and gratefulness. It was literally the most artistic and different way to get therapy in my opinion. And I love that about Eva.

I love Evangelion for all it has presented. It's an anime I hold close to me and I often run to Reflections of Despair in youtube just to remind myself of what I learned through this show.

You never understand anything. Nothing ever changes. Is that wrong? I don't wanna be alone. I'm no good. Nobody wants me. You betrayed my feelings. Somebody help me. Somebody care about me. All lines from the ASMV. I don't remember whether these are lines from NGE but they seem connected. There's so much to uncover through this lines, so much to live with. Nobody will truly understand you- and maybe that's the beauty of it. You have some feelings to yourself and you keep them with you. Nothing really changes, people stay the same. Not particularly true but maybe all of it is a part of life. We can't beg people to be with us so we can look at them instead of looking at our loneliness. And when they won't look at us, when they can't be the crutch we use to walk on, we focus on the rage of betrayal instead of learning why we actually feel all that rage. For whom is all that rage for? The betrayal? Or the pain you're gonna feel? Is it another crutch? Why let somebody care about you when you can do that for yourself?

10/10. Would watch with my kids. When they are 18 and mentally unstable.

End of Evangelion is much different than this. There's so much to talk about this anime- but I never have the proper words at any given time.

[random-mha-thoughts]

*crawls out of my tiny dark hole* So um... how's everyone doin~?

It's been a super crazy 2 years for me (oh geez... that's how long i've been out of it for?). I started writing out a whole post explaining what the hell was going on in my life, but it sounded more like a therapy session and I figured it was too much for updates and I don't want to bore you.

Long story short: I've graduated from PA school, started adulting and working in a trauma hospital in a high-stress specialty where I'm also working overtime, and I haven't had the time or energy to process how I've basically lost most if not all of my meaningful relationships/friendships because I haven't given myself time to properly process/heal/deal with my first breakup with someone who I was also best friends with during all of PA school. And I spend all of my free time sleeping or mindlessly watching meaningless YouTube videos. Or playing Twisted Wonderland. Almost always at the same time.

(I really thought that when I graduated and started working I'd have so much free time and I'd be happier, but I'm just tired all the time and I'm pretty sure my friends hate me lol.)

Anyway, the past 2 weeks I actually didn't have to work overtime for the first time in a WHILE, and I fully realized how capital D Depressed I actually am (and how thin my hair is and how much my scalp hurts and how much weight I've put on and how much my body aches everywhere) and I want to take back my happiness one day at a time. (No really, I broke down and downloaded a habit tracker to remind me to take my vitamins and iron every day and oil my hair every week and get my nails done-)

I really miss getting the smallest ideas for one shots from the randomest things in my daily life. I miss writing and having some kind of purpose. I just miss being happier tbh, someone skip me to the part of my life where I become hotter and more emotionally stable and confident

You're probably gonna get a oneshot out of me sometime this week, an idea popped into my head while I was researching hair sticks to put my hair up without my scalp screaming at the end of the day. After that... I have no idea, we'll see.

I hope this is the start of me coming back here on a regular basis. In case you didn't know, I also have a kpop blog where I write mostly timestamps and shorter oneshots @doyoungiesbunnies. I might start writing Twisted Wonderland stuff, but I don't know where I'd put it... That's all for now. I hope you're all doing well, staying happy and healthy and taking care of yourselves. I'll see you all again soon ❤️

~Love, Chibi

[lifewaster-imdanger98]

Why do you hurt others when you just want to be loved?

Now I'm aware that this will be a sensitive topic to many, so consider this your TRIGGER WARNING. Unfortunately, it has also been common occurance on here for me to make people offended or even aggressive for offering genuinely well intended advice on how to improve their situation. This seems to be particularly prevelent in the self harm and mental illness communities. So if you don't like what I'm saying, please just leave. I don't intent on hurting anyone's feelings.

With that out of the way, let me answer the actual question here. To make it very short, abusive childhood / childhood trauma (most likely). But if you're here to listen to a stranger ramble to an imaginary audience in his head for a couple of minutes, let me put it another way.

If you have suffered some form of abuse or trauma during your childhood, especially during the first couple of years of your life, your entire way of socializing with other people can be fundamentally damaged. The big issue with childhood trauma when compared to "regular" trauma, is that during childhood we learn the most fundamental aspects of human interaction. When this process is compromised in any way it's Nearly impossible to correct the compromised behavioral patterns later on.

A child growing up in an abusive household will develop behaviors that help it cope with their individual situation in order to protect itself. They may blame themselves instead of their parents for the situation they are in, or they may try to remove themselves from all uncomfortable situations they're in.

The problem is that these behavioral patterns remain into adulthood, even if the abuse had been removed from their environment at some point. Often times this results in trust issues, an inability to deal with most kinds of stress, a feeling of unworthyness, anger issues or an inability to deal with one's own emotions.

Because of these behaviors, other people may view them as controlling, untrusting, violent, unreasonable, cold hearted or manipulative.

In other words, childhood trauma can result in a general inability to form any meaningful and long lasting relationships.

Now that's all very depressing and a hard pill to swallow indeed, but hope is not lost.

The simple solution is getting therapy. It's not that hard, and I promise they won't lock you away for being honest with them as long as you're not a legal adult. But in that case it would probably be for your best.

If you are an adult however, simply talking to a therapist every week or two for a couple years can really change who you thought you are as a person. And I guess that's really all I've got to say for now, thanks for sticking with me till the end.

[spaceswordblaster]

I keep almost making more journal-y type posts on here but readmores were only on desktop, but now they're on mobile

I've been like extra depressed for probably a couple months now and I'm feeling like I'm having a ⅓ life crisis or something. I basically just feel extra sad on my days off and like....nothing seems appealing, I'm not motivated to go do anything, going anywhere takes like 15+ minutes and a lot of effort, I'm just kind of tired. I don't know how to make personal goals l o l

I had my first therapist appointment in like a year and a half on Friday (long story, but I'm back seeing my therapist who I saw from summer 2017-winter 2019) and she said based on the fact that I've been in survival mode for like, my whole adult life it makes sense that I don't know what to do now that I don't need to worry about making rent and passing classes

Also I just still feel really lonely :/ like I have friends obviously but like...I wish other people would initiate conversations more, or just send me stuff that they think I'd find neat/funny idk (if you are one of like 3 people who already do this I appreciate you so much <3 ). If I'm at work I don't really have work friends anymore and if I have the day off I just like, stay home unless I've made previous plans so I just feel like I don't have enough regular socializing idk

[existentially-confused-crow]

Yeah, I've had anxiety and panic attacks since I was seven and I have to actively distract and calm myself down when I feel stressed otherwise I get extreme chest and muscle pain. It literally became such a large part of my life that for a long time I considered it a personal trait as inseparable to me as the color of my eyes.

And when you have anxiety (especially if you also have somewhat regular panic attacks) years before you know there's even a term for it, you kinda just assume you have a weird mystery disease that occasionally makes you feel like you're gonna die, but all your doctors and surrounding adults say there's nothing wrong with you. I didn't learn that anxiety was what the weird, constant buzzing feeling in my skin that made me feel like I was in/near danger until I was twelve.

And I couldn't really relate to people with social anxiety (the most common form of anxiety I learned about in my early teen years when it was becoming more talked about) or other anxiety that was more tied to a specific trigger they could put a name to. So I thought I was just a freak case and should be able to walk it off since I didn't really have an "excuse" to have anxiety (later turns out I had a lot of complex trauma in my early childhood that lead me to not trust in the people around me to be able/willing to protect me, or at least defend me, and believing that I was a burden for seeking help)[but even if it was entirely genetic, it doesn't need to be "justified" to be deserving of help]

Anxiety, especially chronic (I hate the term "general anxiety" because it doesn't quite capture that severity of it and makes it seem as though it's triggered by a lot of things rather than it's just a thing that appears almost everyday regardless of whatever's going on or how much fun you're having) anxiety is just fucking suffering. I literally cannot think about my childhood past the age of seven without thinking about anxiety, depression, migraines (tooth related so that's not really related but still a childhood constant) and panic attacks. Even most of my best memories are tainted with anxiety. Hell, after being on anxiety meds for a couple years, when I do get anxious (directly stress related now) at first it's almost pleasantly nostalgic. Which is kind of a fucked up thing.

But now I've gotten better at internalizing my feelings for work, which means my anxiety now triples in my body when I don't give it a sufficient outlet. In turn, when I get really stressed at work (luckily it takes a lot to get me to anxiety level stressed now. Unfortunately my job is currently trying every possible way to break me down physically, mentally, and financially) my anxiety wants to skip feeling anxious and jump straight to 'feel-like-I'm-dying panic attack' and honestly, if a panic attack is severe enough, it can hospitalize you.

I'm not even gonna go over all the other physical symptoms of anxiety, y'all can research for yourselves.

Point is, anxiety isn't a "minor" illness to sweep under the rug. And I wish people stopped treating it like either something endearing/cute or a minor inconvenience, instead of a life-ruining disease

anxiety is so insane bc ppl will treat it like it's no big deal, like it's "one of the "easy" mental illnesses" or something, and then you have it and it's insanely debilitating and you lose most of your life and your time and energy to it. yesterday i spent 2 hours sitting in my bed trying to convince myself to go to a water fountain to get some water. one time i got so scared to take a bus i passed out. like sure it's a spectrum and i'm definitely at the more severe end of it but the fact that milder cases exist doesn't mean it's not still a problem? and it doesn't mean that those people aren't struggling too

[nawilla]

Farewell to My Old Friend Joann

Joann Fabric and Crafts used to be a regular destination for me. I lived in an apartment with access to the bus route that headed out to a suburban shopping center with a Joann Fabric and Craft Store, an Ames, an IKEA, and a Walmart and later a mall within walking distance. As a young adult I headed out here once a month and explored my crafty side and furnished my home. (And bought way too much crap).

And now Joann is leaving us, and it really won't be the same.

There really isn't an equivalent chain to step into the place in the market. Michaels is starting to sell fabric (they could see the writing on the wall a long way out) but the sheer variety is not something that can be replaced with 1-2 small aisles.

I hadn't been out to Joann in years. I had moved so that it was now a 2 bus, 75-90 minute trip to get out there, and in my current job a weekend without having to go in is rare, not the norm. I still used to go out there over Thanksgiving or Winter Break, but since the pandemic I just haven't had the time.

The last time I was there the signs the company was in trouble were apparent. Selection was poor. Prices were higher. There were some empty shelves. I wasn't surprised when they started circling the drain.

It took me four weeks to finally get out there for a last trip for old time's sake. It was kind of depressing, especially since the transit system announced bus cuts that would mean I wouldn't be able to get out there at all once those go through. This shopping center is a farther away distance wise, but all the malls are about 90 minutes away by bus and because this was on the line that also served the airport, the busses ran frequently as opposed to a few times a day.

Joann was depressing when I arrived. There were still signs on the front door looking to hire and proclaiming the employee discount. The inventory was just sad. Half the store was empty. Selection was random. Prices had been jacked up before any discounts were applied so everything was essentially full price. I got some yarn, some stainless steel pins (because those can be hard to get at Michaels), and a cat mug that I will probably put a plant in. The inspiration was gone. Merchandise included a bunch of outdated crap that looked like it had been looted from a defunct Dollar General just to put stuff on the shelves.

Yes, that is a Pez dispenser for the Eternals, a notoriously lower performing Marvel movie from 2021. It's 2025. Don't eat the Pez.

There were only three employees visible in the store. One at the cutting counter, one at the register and one putting out stock. If I were a more emotional person I probably would have cried.

It was also rainy and gloomy, very fitting.

After my depressing walk through Joann, I went across the parking lot to IKEA. I had to hurry (because I of course still had to stop into work and they cafeteria was about to close) but I DID get my Swedish meatballs that I had been waiting four weeks for. And some cake.

The cafeteria server was cheerful and seemed amused by my eagerness. It was a nice ray of sunshine after Joann.

After dinner I took a nice stroll through the showroom and marketplace. They had some roasting pans on clearance, and these cute little hangers with clips on them for socks which I got for drying my compression socks.

I looked at the furniture but didn't make any plans since the store was about to become utterly unaccessible.

Still thinking about this one for the living room.

I also saw the most IKEA product for Easter. It's the flat pack chocolate bunny you have to assemble at home. I didn't buy it but I laughed hard.

I then happened to leave just as the bus was coming to get back home, so that was a kindness from the universe on a sad day. I can't say when or if I'll ever get back there, but I'm glad I left so I didn't have to regret not going.

[anarcho-red-jay]

Man I tried living on my own right out of high school. I saved up from my shitty part-time job as a gas station worker for years to move in with my then-GF and two roommates in our own apartment.

That was the impetus for the worst depressive episode of my life.

Despite how it sounds, my relationship falling apart wasn't what kickstarted it. We just started to realize that we weren't compatible with the things we wanted in life and so we split up. It was as amicable as it could be given we were 19-20. There wasn't any real toxicity or drama involved.

No, it was being so completely overwhelmed by handling everything on my own, to the point where I felt lonely and isolated even from the people who lived with me, that nearly broke me.

Moving back home with my parents was part of what saved me from killing myself, frankly, and I'm not exaggerating. Granted, I'm lucky in that I've always had really good relationships with my parents: my dad is admittedly kind of a dick sometimes but my mom is one of the people I'm closest to in my life and they've always loved and supported me and my sisters.

When I came back, they helped me find a new job and pushed me to get back into regular therapy. They helped with transportation when I lost my car in an accident. I've also been able to reconnect with my older siblings and now have a strong relationship with them and my nephews.

I'm still an adult, and they treat me like it. I have my own career, my own hobbies, and friends outside of the house. We help each other financially and emotionally like family should. I honestly think I'm healthier and happier than I ever will be trying to move out again.

Just a reminder that people who still live with their parents as adults deserve respect and for you to stop being ableist. There are multiple reasons someone could still live with their parents! From invisible to visible disabilities, finance issues, and more!

Stop using the “well they’re gonna turn into a creep living in their parents basement” punchline! It’s disgusting. STOP. BEING. ABLEIST. STOP. FORGETTING. THE. POOR.

[haveumetbi]

Hello!

I've been using tumblr for a long time, but only recently I've felt confident enough in my english to actually try to join communities and make friends. 

A little introduction... That is actually kinda really long and I’m not gonna subject y’all to it unless you want to, so here’s the tldr:

I’m an acearo, bi, cis girl (🇺🇸 she/her — 🇧🇷 ela/a).

White latina from Brazil.

I’m disabled and neurodivergent

I love sitcoms, comedy is my fav genre of fiction

and cats

and The Sims

and Turma da Mônica

and hairstyling, braids, make up

and Jane Austen

and Taylor Swift

If you like any of it, follow me!! I’ll definetely follow back. If your curious, read bellow.

I’m a 23 year old college student who is majoring in History. I’m kind of a huge nerd, I love subjects like History (duh), Literature, Politics, Philosophy, Psychology, Religion, but also Comedy (i find fascinating to analyze it, even if that kinda defeats the purpose, sue me). I kinda only watch sitcoms, actually, maybe because of how obsessed I am with the genre (more on that later). 

Being Brazilian I may reblog/talk about Brazillian issues/stuff and most definetely will reblog things about Turma da Mônica (brazil’s most beloved comic book series that shaped the childhood’s of at least 3 generations now since the 60s/70s), my longest autistic special interest. Oh, yeah, I’m also neurodivergent, AuDHD and also have persistent depressive disorder (dysthymia gang rise up! or dont, ik its hard and tiresome) and fibromyalgia.

Another special interest I’m unhinged about is The Sims, I use Tumblr mostly bc of it, so I’ll definitely reblog stuff about it, maybe if everythings works out I will even create a side simblr, who knows. I love historic/fantasy gameplay, would be cool to share with people.

Idk if its a SI or just regular cat owner thing, but I’m definitely obsessed with these little guys. Speaking of cat lover, I love Taylor Swift. Like, I’m very casual about most music I consume, but she is the exception, I just... feel SO MUCH with her songs. Idk, idk... She also makes me feel things on a sapphic way, though I’m no g*ylor or hetl*r (rlly dont care about who she dates, just here for the art). But not in a wow I wanna bang this celebrity I have a crush on, cuz I dont wanna bang no one, cuz I’m acearo. Just, dont swing that way (or any way, really /hj cuz i'm actually gray-bi-romantic but its very rare, so i'm usually not swinging at all lmao).

I really like to read, but it has been tough to keep the habit with depression and disabled adult life knocking at my door and kicking my ass... currently I’m finishing reading all Jane Austen’s work (i love her sense of humor and analyses of human psychology) in portuguese, but I plan to eventually read the original stuff in english. I just really love stories and storytelling as an art form, maybe that’s why I love to write. I’m obsessed with fanfictions, actually, been writing since I was 11, never anything in english, but who knows, actually creating and participating in tumblr may be the first step. I mostly write about tv shows I’m obsessed about (though I did write some Turma da Mônica Jovem fanfiction...... thank god I deleted, it was terrible, tho in my defense I was still a preteen) and I mostly watch sitcoms so.... About that...

My favorite sitcom ever is probably How I Met Your Mother (it was literally what i needed when i was going through a really rough patch) and BoJack Horseman (yes, cartoon sitcoms totally count, shut up). I’d say my first sitcom love was The Simpsons, my biodad had a lot of dvds and tapes from the golden seasons and the fondest memories of my childhood were us watching together and laughing like two idiots. My first fandom was iCarly (i was a preteen okay), but I wasnt a big fan of the revival/reboot (yes I was team seddie, no it has nothing to do with it, I gave it a shot, but just didnt vibe with it). I also love The Office, That 70′s Show, Never Have I Ever, Community, Our Flag Means Death, The Sex Lifes of College Girls, One Day at a Time and The Good Place.

I’m pretty sure the only other shows that I got obsessed with that weren’t sitcoms were Once Upon a Time and Lucifer, two shows that were quite humorous with its wacky premises (fairytales in real life???? the devil taking a vacation in LA??? i mean, c’mon!!). I’m loving the Percy Jackson disney adaptation, it was my favorite YA book series and it always bummed me that the movie adaptation was so terrible, I'm glad we finally have a great adaptation and can't wait for more seasons to come!!!

I’m very talkative (you dont say?? 😮 /s) and a total extroverted that really loves to make friends, but my communication difficulties really do shine on long distance conversation... be phone calls, video calls, emails, text messages etc... So, although I’d love if you shoot me a message, bc I love to make friends, I also am not the best texter, so dont expect someone who always immediately answers you right back cuz they are online — please dont take it personal, it has nothing to do with who is messaging me and everything to do with my disability mkay? And yes, I am trying to work this shit out in therapy, but you know... growth aint linear. When shit hits the fan, the first thing that I lose is the ability to answer text messages 😭 idk i just stare at them, they stare at me, i combust and die, the end. 

Dont know how to end this text, so, I’ll just show a pic of my cat, cuz shes everything. Bye!! 

[trichotillo-nope]

Still here...

Hey y'all! I know, it's been a minute since I started this particular blog and then subsequently disappeared. Mea culpa.

Short version: Adulting nuked my plans; and possible (probable, who are we kidding) neurodivergent shenanigans.

Did not know there was a blanket term to describe the processing nonsense that is my brain and how I overall interact with the world. Personally I'd explain it as a some mixture of ADHD/[mild] Autism/Trauma with a frosting of Trichotillomania and Anxiety/Depression.

Yes, I am in the process of psych assessment hell. Thus this post now exists in the wild world of Tumblr. So, for my American followers (since I'm, y'know, in that hellscape), here's the gist of how that works in case any Adults are considering going through this process.

See a psychiatrist/psychologist who can perform the evaluation and assessment. Your health insurance may require a referral from your medical doctor.

Go through 1-2 (minimum) pre-assessment interviews because of course. It's one part diagnostic and one part insurance requirements and probably some skeptical "you're not neurodivergent" and you will feel like you're on trial even if you are a Textbook case of whatever thing(s) you think you are. It's important, at least it's been so for me, to bear in mind that what you're experiencing is valid even if it's not one large overarching issue but a combination of several "smaller" issues mimicking the expression of another because there is overlap.

Try not to self diagnose if possible because of the overlap; though I understand the inclination to do so especially with more neurodivergent people discussing how their neurodivergence impacts their daily lives via social media.

Advocate for yourself.

These tests are expensive. I'm looking at near $2000 between me and my insurance and guess who is covering the bulk of it - hint, not my insurance.

Your insurance probably needs a pre-authorization and approval times vary by insurance provider (mine took about 10 days to okay things; it could have been longer). Note: Your Assessor will contact your Insurance with the pre-authorization form.

If you or our assessor suspect autism, be prepared for your insurance not to cover those tests.

Expect, if you have a mainstay therapist, that the assessor may wish to speak with your primary mental health provider.

Hurry up and wait. I started this process in November with an expected timeline of maybe 2 months...we are way beyond that now and my assessor (sweetheart and patient though she is) drives me bonkers with her response times. Like ma'am...I told you schedule maintenance is a thing I have a physical reaction to and this is just [pterodactyl screech here]. ***

Hurry up and wait.

Be kind to yourself. This will exacerbate and exhaust you.

I'll have more once I've actually gone through the assessment. In theory soon? But we've been saying "soon" for weeks now my primary therapist and I (she is not my assessor).

I just want answers to the question "Why brain do that?" so my therapist and I can better manage my tomfoolery and shenanigans but damn I'm tired.

Yes, I recognize that I"m fortunate to be scheduled at all and that i got into with the practice I'm going through in a relatively short timeline. The practices some of my friends were going through for their regular therapy quoted me much longer lead times to even do the preliminary sessions. I also recognize that my experience is not necessarily universal but boy howdy.

Why am I referring to this psychiatric professional as an assessor? I have no intention of receiving care from this practice long term. Their lack of communication ticks a whole new level of anxiety and stress for me across multiple levels.

Alright. I'm done now for this post.

M'k bai!

[readingrobin]

(July 23 - July 28th)

Due to a very eventful birthday weekend, this log's just a tiny bit late. I had an amazing time doing a bookshop crawl around my city that involved seeing some great sights, picking up some good books, and needling my friends into listening to my many many suggestions. Following that day up with a double feature of Barbie and The Haunted Mansion did a great job of rounding everything out. I had a wonderful time and it was one of the better birthdays I've had in a while.

Now that I'm getting to the end of a three day birthday weekend, going back to my regular schedule feels depressing. It feels like I'm staring down the barrel of imposter syndrome, financial anxiety, and constant overworking. I can never recharge enough, knowing that tomorrow is just going to take more from me. I know it's something every adult faces, but it doesn't make it easier. Sorry to leave the update on such a sour note but, ya know, if I can't scream into the void every once in a while when can I do it?

Books Finished:

Begone the Raggedy Witches by Celine Kiernan (3/5)

Darkly She Goes by Hubert and Vincent Mallie (3/5)

Last Bus to Everland by Sophie Cameron (Review) (4/5)

A Kind of Paradise by Amy Rebecca Tan (4/5)

The False Prince by Jennifer A. Nielsen (4/5)

Books Currently Reading:

Les Misérables by Victor Hugo (55% done)

Daughter of Smoke and Bone by Laini Taylor (49% done)

Books to Read Next:

A Snake Falls to Earth by Darcie Little Badger

Grounded for All Eternity by Darcy Marks

DNFs:

Incarceron by Catherine Fisher - Got almost halfway before I realized that I wasn't really absorbing much of the material. It has an interesting concept, but I don't think it executes it very well through a very basic writing style. There is a decent mystery aspect, and it seems like it has a lot to offer to those who like YA dystopias that center around elements of escape, survival, and corrupted beings in power. It's not really my genre so it probably didn't stand much of a chance.

[starvette]

T 11-13/90 51.8

I got paid and suddenly I have so much to do there's time only for brief stenographies of my days.

11 I weighed 51.6. Mom got me sweet cherries and a piece of smoked cod. Both were excellent. But not excellent enough for me to stop freaking out and tweeting at him. Mom checked how my hair removal has been going on the back of my thighs and said it was much better. Then she proceeded to make gnarly comments about how I am perfect the way I am. I did my arm weight workout for the first time in a long time and read a great many KP posts. I've been really enjoying sunbathing and took some decent selfies after today's session. Acne is starting to come back without any sweeteners.

12 The tweet worked! Sort of. I'm still depressed and blasting Married in Mount Airy. Right when things had started to get peaceful again, mom comes crying in my room - dad is being mean again. I force myself to put it out of my mind because if they're two old fucking adults who have always been so much smarter than me, well then why the hell can't they figure it out between themselves. I obviously have enough to worry about that nobody else ever EVER worries about. For example, my neighbor granny's imprisoned cat. While making gas safety rounds at noon I notice she has put up a sort of mosquito net in front of her window. It's obviously for her cat. Is that how he escaped last time? I read a giant article about the lab leak theory. Probably took me way too long. Then I read in the news that a girl has been beat up in the face by a gang of teenagers in town center late at night. Makes me queasy about running. I stayed in, ate two bags of frozen bean pods and watched the idol. Tomorrow is planned binge day which I'm disgustingly excited for, but I couldn't wait, I had to see it right away so I had only those beans for a movie snack.

13 The most amazing thing happens. I get paid! I tell him I love him. Depression lifts right away. I actually worked out and then went out to get those damn pastries. I got three almond croissants, two vegan cinnabuns, one nutella danish, and one regular croissant. ...aaand... They're kind of dry. They're not that great. I get full fast and don't even want the rest. What I want is to throw all this crap up. I tried doing that but I just got a few wet crumbs out. Maybe they'd already digested?! Anyway. It's clear that I truly cannot purge. I swear off any more binges ever again. Like, I really fucking regret this one. I have two leftover pastries. Don't even want them at all. Gonna gift to mom. In the afternoon I hear a terrible bellowing outside. She must have opened her window and her cat is pleading to get outside? It honestly breaks my heart. Well, then I tell myself I have to save myself before I can save anyone else, sunbathe, and I. finally. fucking. get. finasteride. I was extremely pleasantly surprised by the price. That made me feel a lot more hopeful and positive about this whole fin ordeal looming ahead. When I got home, mom was finishing up bathing and told me that dad has mellowed out and is sweet again. We decided to give him my leftover pastries as reward. And just maybe they'll kill him a bit sooner. I've started wearing skirts around the house for the KP. After all, pants, especially those made of plastic, aren't natural at all. Nor is sitting. When I don't feel like wearing a skirt I'll just imagine I'm living with a sexual deviant dominant daddy who's ordered me to wear skirts at all times. But it's been pretty easy now since it's 25 degrees inside.