#idk i'm tired and overwhelmed and sad sorry for the vent

[feralsneeze]

not sneeze, just rambling about extreme anxiety and low self esteem lol

god I hate being so fucking sensitive, every time I feel like a friend is even slightly annoyed with me I just totally shut down and can't function around them

and I know reasonably that I'm probably overreacting and reading too much into things and they probably aren't bothered by me at all, and that this instance probably isn't even something they'll remember

but I just can't even THINK about the situation to examine it because it fr just feels like someone's taking a baseball bat to my face, it's like a physical pain to remember it

idk I'm so overwhelmed with work and college and my family and I write with my friends to escape everything, but I haven't even been able to do that for the past several days because I can't even bear to face what a cringey individual I am

it is so tempting to just be completely alone sometimes, at least then I can be cringey on my own and outside of anyone's view

[winter-soldier-vibes]

Can I request HSP + depression reader (who thinks they are just weak and being crybaby) x Bucky, please? I understand you are super busy right now and I didn’t mean to rush you or anything but I'm just struggling with both HSP and depression and couldn’t help but send it right now. No need to hurry, just when you are free and maybe when you had nothing to write. Thank you and I love you!

Thank you for the request, I’m sorry it’s been a difficult time for you! I’m here if you need me and I hope that this helps!!! 

It’s called empathy

Bucky x reader

Word count: 1981

Warnings: depression, HSP (highly sensitive person), low self worth, negative self talk, swearing (that’s normal for me but this one’s a little extra), angst (more so internal idk if that needs a warning), fluff/comfort

Taglist: @buckys2thicc @babydaddy-buckybarnes @barnesplums @peggycarter-steverogers @mardema @abitgryffindorky @buckys-blue-eyes @strawberrimae @thatfangirl42 @freigeistundanderes @bucks-bunny @broadwaybabe18 @im-sick-of-failing

Taglist     Masterlist

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Breathe in

Breathe out

In 

Out 

...in…

You felt a tear escape your eyes

Goddamn it

You didn’t want to cry, you couldn’t let yourself. It was stupid, it was just some shitty remark from someone when they were in a shitty mood, it wasn’t your fault, all that bullshit you tried to tell yourself. It never worked.

You were trying to control your breathing, looking up at the ceiling trying to will the tears away, biting your lip. You would not cry, not over this. Not over something that wasn’t worth your tears

Not when you didn’t even know what exactly you were crying over. 

Yet here you were, gripping the edge of the bathroom sink with white knuckles, looking up at the ceiling trying to keep the tears at bay. And it wasn’t working.

Weak sensitive piece of shit. 

What good were you to the team if you cry in the bathroom like a baby every time something remotely stressful happens? People usually cry when they're in pain or when they’re grieving - the only excuse you had was you were stressed or sad. 

You felt another few tears escape and you angrily swiped them away, cursing yourself for being so weak. 

You hated this, you hated yourself. You were so numb most of the time, especially when you were alone. You found yourself alone in your room with racing thoughts feeling like you were falling apart. Yet when you were alone you could only stare at the ceiling wondering if it would get any worse. 

The answer was usually yes.

Whenever you would go on missions with the team, you were able to push aside your stress. You had a job to do and you would do it. But when the mission was over and you were walking back through the rubble - seeing all the blood, destruction, fear - then it would start to get to you. You would panic, you would feel tears cloud your vision. Tears for those you were leaving behind, and those who had nowhere to go, those who lost someone. That was understandable. 

It seemed to affect you more than the others though. It was understandable to be moved by so much destruction. But for you everyone felt like someone you had known and loved. 

You could feel the grief in those left behind, feel the sadness and pain that they were going through. 

The same was true when you weren’t on missions. When those who were on them would come back. Whether they were injured or their eyes were saddened - you knew when a mission was rough. You would listen, you would be there for people. It was easy to talk to you, and you were very wise. 

But it still overwhelmed you. You couldn’t say no, you didn’t want to. You wanted to help but it would be so emotionally taxing for you. So behind closed doors, you would break. Be there for others, listen when they need to talk, others come first - you took their emotional pain onto yourself. 

You were grateful that you could help - but in the process it was hurting you. 

You allowed yourself to feel sad when you were alone in your room. No one could see you be weak in the dark of your room. But you never cried much just from the pure exhaustion of your thoughts. Sometimes you wanted to, just feeling so incredibly empty that you just wanted to have an ugly crying session curled up in bed.

But you didn’t get to make that choice.

The crying wouldn’t come until the absolute worst times. If you had messed up on a mission, if Tony said something a little too harshly because to him everything was a joke, seeing something gruesome on a mission- whenever it came to someone else getting involved, the tears would come. Hell sometimes even being overwhelmed in public would be enough to start the waterworks. 

You always felt so fucking weak for it. The slightest environmental stressor could stress you out too much and move you to tears. You had no reason to be upset most of the time. But you would get angry at yourself for being upset, which would make you more upset that you couldn’t control it, making it harder to control.

It was a vicious cycle.

Lately it had been popping up more and more recently. Smaller things were upsetting you more than usual. You were becoming more sensitive to external stimuli and as a result, you spent as much time as you could in your room. You were embarrassed by yourself. Both by your emotions and by your inability to control them. 

This time you were just upset that you were upset. It had been a long night the day prior, just a lot of paperwork to do. There had been a mission earlier this week that you hadn’t been assigned to, but it had been brutal for everyone who had gone. So far today had been a normal day by anyone’s terms, an emotionally exhausting one for you. One of those where you woke up tired and the thoughts of another day were enough to draw you to tears. Nothing had even happened, but apparently nothing needed to happen. 

Your emotions came and went without your consent. 

You knew deep down it was probably some sort of emotional build up - that whole quote about bottling things up until they got to be too much - it happened every time but you still thought you could handle yourself better than that. You didn’t want to vent or be a problem to anyone. But when you are the emotional support for most of the team and you haven’t been able to get enough sleep or take time for yourself - you didn’t have much of a say as to when the bottle overflows.

A few more tears fell and you slammed your hand on the counter, wiping your tears angrily once more. “God fucking damn it why can’t you just stop fucking crying!” you exclaimed, feeling a few more tears falling “Weak piece of shit!” 

There was knocking on the door, pulling you out of your self deprecating thoughts. You gasped lightly, wiping your face again. 

Knock knock

You jumped a little, gasping slightly. No one was supposed to be here, it was the middle of the night. 

“Y/n? What’s going on in there? Are you alright?”

You took a shaky breath. Of course it would be Bucky who heard you. Why would it be anyone else?

“I’m fine Bucky, it’s late, you should go to sleep.”

“Then why are you still awake?” Bucky responded. You heard him sigh a little outside the door. “Come out here and tell me you’re okay.”

“Really Bucky?”

“Unless you want me to come in there, but I don’t think Stark would appreciate me breaking your door.”

You took a small breath and walked over to the door, opening it. You crossed your arms and met Bucky’s concerned eyes. “I’m fine, Bucky.”

Bucky sighed, taking in your appearance. Red eyes, flushed face, your hair was messy - you were definitely crying. He hated when you wouldn’t admit that you weren’t ok. “You know you don’t have to be, right?”

You clenched your jaw, trying to keep fresh tears from clouding your vision. “What?”

“You say you’re fine, you always say that you’re fine until you break. I heard you crying, I can see that you’re not feeling okay yet still you try to keep a brave face. And I just want you to know that you don’t have to always be okay.”

You let out a breath. “I - i…” you looked down and shook your head, lost for words. 

“Y/n, I’m not here to judge you. Can you try to tell me what’s wrong?”

“I don’t know,” you said looking up at him “It’s literally so stupid, Bucky.”

“Y/n, nothing you say right now is going to sound stupid. 

You shrugged your shoulders, still not quite meeting his eyes. “I don’t know, I just get so worked up sometimes, but it’s stupid. I tell myself I’m not going to be bothered and then I freak out again. The smallest things bother me and I get stressed out and then I cry like some stupid weak bitch. People have it worse than me, God, you have it worse than me. Everyone here has some sort of traumatic awful thing happen to them and then there’s me and I get sad because I see other people sad,” you were crying again and you wiped at your face, covering your eyes. “God Im so fucking stupid I -”

Bucky pulled you into his chest as you let out a sob. “You’re not stupid, y/n.”

“YES I AM. I get worked up over the smallest shit, I don’t listen when people tell me to take breaks, I take everything too personally and I can’t stop fucking crying when I don’t even know what the fuck is wrong!” you exclaimed, trying to push yourself away, ashamed.

Bucky held you tightly, not letting you go. “That’s not your fault. It’s not up to you how your feelings show up.”

“But I cry at the most stupid shit and I can’t control it.”

“You’re not supposed to know how to control it,” he said, pulling back to look at you. “Emotions can’t be controlled. They just happen and it’s rarely convenient.”

“Then why do I feel so weak? If this,” you gestured to yourself “is so goddamn normal then why isn’t everyone else breaking down every other day?” 

Bucky brushed some hair out of your face. “Your emotions are yours, no one else’s. No one has the right to tell you how to feel. Think of it this way - you can’t expect everyone to have the same amount of strength or stamina - no one has the same emotional response either. And that doesn’t make you weak, it makes you you.”

You shook your head. “I just feel so weak all the time.” 

“And I’m here to remind you that crying isn’t weak. You are not a weak person, you are not a bad person, you’re not any of those things your mind tells you. You’re a kind and thoughtful person. You put your heart into everything you do. You help everyone you can. Mourning someone else’s loss isn’t weakness. It’s called empathy.”

You took a small breath. “Then why does it hurt so goddamn much?”

“”I don’t know. And I can’t say for certain that you won’t always feel that way. But I know I can tell you that you aren’t weak, and I’ll be here every time you feel that you are.” 

You nodded your head slightly. “You don’t think I’m weak?” you asked quietly.

He pulled you back into a hug. “Not in the slightest, y/n.”

[poutyniall]

About your mother, I may have the same struggle but with my father so I know what it feels like to just simply be exhausted of the family you were born in. Idk anything about your financial condition but bestie the best way for you (and for me) is to collect enough money and move out. You said it yourself in that post about the Pompei tower that distance puts alot of things in perspective and lets you breathe a little clearer. Speaking as a person who's tried to be silent and diminish her entire existence just so she could get a little peace, these parents will not stop. They WILL find a way to make you go through terrible feelings and then act the victim. It's sad but it's true and it's time we take life into our own hands.

And I know it's easier said than done, especially if there's a cultural barrier to overcome too woth moving out, but I believe in you. We can do this. I'm rooting for you!!!

Ps, my inbox is always ALWAYSS open if things get overwhelming bcz people who provide safe places to others often times don't have them for themselves, please don't hesitate to shoot me a text and we can talk through whatever new shit your mom cooked up (I'm sorry but I can't be respectful to her after reading all the bad ways she makes you feel)

My father always made sure, and still does, I had everything I needed when it comes to material things but for the emotional and psychological part it's like I grew up without a father. He has always been a mere physical presence. One of the things that hurts me the most is the fact that I have never ever heard him say my name (which I hate but they both chose). But I try to ignore the hurt from the present also because I know that even if he'd start caring now it's not going to fill the emptiness that the little me grew up with. It's not gonna fix that. But I'm also trying to focus more on the skills I got from those painful experiences. It's because I was almost always alone (apart from school and form 6/7 pm), since I was 11 years old, that I love reading and books, they've been my friends since then, and I know how to stay by myself and gods and all the saints above help whoever the fuck try to steal my alone time from me, I need it! And always thanks to that I am responsible, whatever the fuck that means, and I can take care of myself, of my body at least. And it thanks to the fact that I could never count on them that I can get by almost everything on my own. This also means I don't know how to ask for help, but let's not focus on that now. Example: every time I know I'm going to drive somewhere farther from the area I live, which happens because I like going on adventures with my car, that by the way is just a Fiat 600 so it's quite small and omg! one of my short term goals is to go to Roma, just me and my little car! Aaaahhh I gotta do it!! Sorry, I get distracted easily. So anyway, when I know it I always check the water, the oil, the tires… I prevent.

And all this rumbling to say that I hope you have a better relationship with your mother instead.

And yes, money is always one of the biggest problems. I can't afford do move out but still the main goal is to break the connection inside, because yes, I could move to the other side of the world but what's the point if I still have the tiny version of her in my head?

This way of acting is very subtle and cruel, like privacy, personal space and no don't exist for her. She always goes through my stuff, walks into the bathroom without knocking, used to eavesdrop my conversations but she can't do it anymore because I only text now, hugs and kisses me even if I say not to and what's her answer? ''Jesus, I'm your mother, can't I even hug you know? I don't even have this right anymore?'' and of course I feel guilty. And I also feel guilty saying this, but this whole dynamic is soo damn toxic.

Aish, I ended up venting, I'm sorry. And thank you so much my dear, for the kindness, the availability, the time you gave me, for everything. And same here, you can talk to me anytime and about everything, this will always be a safe place for everyone.

Also, I'm rooting for you too!! We'll get there, one little step at the time.

[spookywhipped]

oracode : if you ever need to talk or need help I’m here!! This is really frustrating and I’m sorry she’s being such a prideful asshole

                THANKS  skippy, I really do appreciate that......sheds single tear