#it feels like for the past year or so ive been constantly spiralling between i know my worth im not willing to get in a relationship that | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

ronsenburg · 4 years ago

Text

i saw this post and IMMEDIATELY started writing an essay, so I moved it here so as not to clutter up someone else’s post...........

it absolutely blows my mind that, today in 2021, i honestly can’t remember what’s canon from the turnabout serenade case, what i read in a fanficition, and what is my own personal HC. like, it’s been more than a decade since i played the case for the first time and it’s probably been 5ish years since the last time i played AJ (definitely forgot to play it again before writing youngblood which is.... contributing to this) so i really don’t know if what goes on in my head is accurate, but, over the years, i’ve come up with a Lot of Thoughts, which i’ll discuss below.

tldr; it’s all about power (the desire for, the subversion of, the need to maintain), but if you’d like the specifics, here you go:

daryan: i think the explanation that he did it for “the money” is a line. please don’t mistake me, daryan is an asshole and a murderer, im not discounting that, but in court ive always thought that he was playing the part that everyone- especially klavier- is expecting of him. he’s the bad guy. might as well make it a finale for the books.

i’ve always seen daryan and klavier as opposite sides of the same coin when it comes to family and career aspirations. where i imagine klavier came from a well off and well loved family before his parents died, i see daryan from a working class, difficult upbringing. i read a few papers on the psychology of children/parenting style of police officers and decided early on that daryan’s dad was also a cop. his mother is either dead or (more likely) left them early on. dad coped by working a little too hard, gambling/drinking a little too much, and was overall not around a lot and kind of an authoritarian/controller when he was. it left daryan with a lot of anger he had to cope with, about what it means to be a cop, the idea of a “just cause” and the ends justifying the means, and an issue with authority (which is laughable, considering what a bully he turned out to be. sometimes we emulate our parents unintentionally; it’s the only thing we have to model our behavior on). so daryan started off at a disadvantage. klavier started off loved and supported and surrounded by expensive belongings, but the death of his parents and the subsequent emotional and financial abuse by his newly appointed guardian/brother left him in a similar place by the time he and daryan met. i think it was probably the foundation for their bond, and i think it’s why klavier decided to become a prosecutor instead of following in his brother’s footsteps and why daryan ultimately decided to enter law enforcement as well. i think they had a lot of optimistic, idealistic thoughts on being better than the people that hurt them, on utilizing the law to make the world a better place. i don’t think klavier ever conceived that kristoph could have wanted him in the prosecutors office as another pawn to play, and i don’t think he realized how fluid daryan’s morality could be.

shipping alert—you guys know me, im crazy for the idea of a “best friends to on again off again lovers to tenuous coworkers to bitterly disappointed in but still harboring feelings for the other person despite being on opposite sides” dynamic between daryan and klavier. i honestly can’t separate the ship from the case and im sorry about it. if you read youngblood you know that i think daryan started to resent klavier pretty early on, when they were still together, when the band was still successful, because klavier was able to move forward and work through the issues of his past while daryan was seemingly stuck. yes, daryan had made detective and the gavinners were a hit, he’d risen above his initial social standing and thrown off the control his father, he had money and fame and a future. but everything he had was because of klavier. daryan needed klavier, emotionally, morally, financially. but even when klavier was professing his love for daryan, both privately and in the form of chart topping songs, he didn’t need daryan. it was obvious (and of course, healthy, but how do children of abuse learn what a healthy relationship looks like without help? especially when the only relationships you’ve ever had are codependent and, in some ways, just as toxic?) and so things spiraled. daryan got possessive and angry again and klavier got distant and they broke up and got back together and broke up and didn’t get back together but kept ending up back in each other’s arms for comfort and for support and because how the hell do you move on when the person you’ve been in love with since you were 15 is sitting next to you on a tour bus and is also your partner in a homicide case and singing songs he wrote about you on stage in front of thousands of screaming fans?

okay, shipping glasses off, sorry. but no matter how you look at their relationship, daryan’s promotion out of homicide was probably the most distance they’d had from each other in years, as it removed a large chunk of the daily “working relationship” aspect. and without klavier there to act as a moral compass, it was likely easier to slip back into his earlier thoughts about what constitutes justice and his intense hatred of being pushed around by someone who has more power than you. so enter the chief justice with a son who is sick, dying even, but can’t get the medicine he needs because there’s a government out there telling them no. The reasons are arbitrary: the medicine could be used as a poison and can’t be found anywhere else so it might come back to bite the country in the ass if it’s misused by criminals. newsflash: pretty much all medicine is poisonous if it isn’t used correctly, should we stop using penicillin entirely because some people might be allergic to it? they’ve essentially condemned a whole bunch of people to death because they’re worried about their reputation. and that doesn’t sit well with daryan, who is caught up remembering the bullshit justifications his dad would spout when he knocked him around, that kristoph would give when withholding every single penny of money klavier was entitled to until he agreed to do what kristoph wanted. it isn’t right, it isn’t fair and unfair laws shouldn’t have to be upheld, especially when they’re the unfair laws of a country you most definitely did not swear to uphold and protect. it was never about money, though daryan agrees to take it when the chief offers it to him, more for his comfort level than for daryan’s need or desire. it’s about justice and putting a bully in it’s place with a (seemingly) victimless crime that should be so easy given his role in the international division of criminal affairs and klavier’s sudden hard on for the country of borginia. seriously, how could this have been any more straightforward? daryan is capable of murder, though. all cops are. and if it came down to a “them or me” shootout, of course he’d pull the trigger.

machi: when you come from nothing, the desire to have something of your own is overwhelming. the idea that machi is famous and financially set is disingenuous; he is not individually famous, he is Lamiroir’s “blind” pianist. yes, she views him as a son and seems to care deeply for him, but his main purpose in her life is to perpetuate a lie. machi has been abandoned before; what will happen to him if lamiroir suddenly remembers who she was in the past? what if she has a family and a true son of her own and has no use for him? what if their secret is found out and the public rejects him for his role in it? he is 14. what does he know about being provided for? about contracts and trust funds and royalties? he ended up in an orphanage originally because he was unwanted, and that led to a life of poverty and hardship. abandonment issues are rooted in fear and are rarely logical. i find it far easier to believe that machi did it for the money, but more for the power money might have given him towards independence in an unfeeling and capitalist world.

kristoph: i won’t get into this, because this is supposed to be about daryan and machi and the guitar’s serenade, and kristoph is not really involved in that at all. but i think everything that kristoph has ever done in the game, good or bad, is rooted in a pathological need to constantly be in control. i think that kristoph and klavier both have very intense personalities that they have sought to control over the course of their lives for the sake of their careers. kristoph believes that to be a good lawyer, you need to play your cards close to your chest, that to show your hand is to expose a weakness that the enemy can exploit, that to show no weaknesses at all places you in a position of power. klavier believes that to show his true self, to display his weaknesses and fears to the public, would result only in their rejection. as such, they both wear masks of their own creation even under the most intense of pressures: kristoph as pleasant and calm, klavier as magnetic and dynamic. note the primary difference in their rational? klavier wants to be wanted, while kristoph wants power. and power corrupts, after all. once you have it, what could be more overwhelming than the idea that you might lose it all? it can drive even the most rational people to commit acts of passionate irrationality in the name of holding on to that power. and kristoph has so many pieces involved in his strategy to maintain.

#i love daryan crescend i'm so sorry #i cut this to spare you all the pain of my rambling and also my inability to use caps and proper punctuation #gonna tag this as klavdar so you can avoid it just in case it bothers you #i think it's hilarious that this is JUST AS MUCH ABOUT KLAVIER as it is about any of these other people #shut up krissy #i have a lot of feelings about this case okay #man i'm still obsessed with lamiroir and machi's portrayal in 'dirty sympathy'#excellent stuff i'm going to go read that again #klavdar #i don't think i ever managed to squeeze in my hc about the specifics of kristophs abuse towards klavier into any fics #specifically the financial aspects of it #but its absolutely an effective weapon #klavier's money from his parents would absolutely be in a trust and controlled by kristoph until he was legally able to access it #he would have to ask kristoph for EVERYTHING #can you imagine how easy that would be for kristoph to turn against him? as a means of control? i just......#broke: kristoph physically abused klavier when he was a kid #woke: kristoph didn't have to abuse klavier when he could manipulate him so completely with money and mind games #all the while making klavier believe that he was truly looking out for him and any hurt klavier experienced was selfish and misguided #and klavier's fault #:|

43 notes · View notes

mychemicalaromanticism · 4 years ago

Text

things ive already established r on this post

besties this got so fucking long but heres a giant ramble about cherri

okay so. there are huge differences betwn cherri as a hyperviolent drac hunter and cherri as a friend of the four and cherri as the girls mentor. with the first one he was 17 and desperate to distance himself from his upbringing so he went all in on Being A Killjoy. he was always one of the first ppl to rush into a fight and he fought hard. he blew up his fuckin hand with that attitude. and all the while he was just racking up more unaddressed trauma and eventually he ran away from that, too. giving himself radiation poisoning was more appealing than facing his problems.

so as a teenager/young adult hes kind of constantly in a panicked state. hes scared the people from his past are going to find him and drag him back with them. so he lashes out and he runs away over and over again.

i said in another post that he has some past life shit goin on which usually would give him a connection to the witch that manifests early in life, but with all the stuff hes gone through he has been Preoccupied. he can become oblivious to almost anything that doesnt apply to whatever hes focused on. not in a hyperfocus way its likeeeeee. when u live on survival mode during prolonged periods of stress. hes immune to magic bullshit bc hes too tired and scared.

anyways around his mid-20s he finally has a little more stability (as much as the average person living in the zones can have, that is) and he finally notices that Weird Stuff happens around him. basically: out of my list of Powers People Connected To The Witch Have he has the prophetic dreams/enhanced intuition as well as a form of sensing ghosts where he can see auras and kind of like, echoes of past events in ppls lives. that look like auras. itz complicated and not of utmost importance so im leaving it at that.

anyways thats what makes him start writing poetry. just 4 funsies he'll describe his weird experiences and embellish them to make em pretty. just as a casual hobby n all that.

he would forget fun ghoul in between the times they ran into each other but its pretty easy to be reminded of who fun ghoul is. the most insane 10 year old cherri has ever met. cherri isnt a brother figure to ghoul. hes just. his friend that happens to be more than twice his age. its whatever lmao

to cherri, ghoul is kinda like a stray animal he keeps seeing. which is hilarious. ghoul actually goes and finds him to introduce him to jet when they start running together, and cherri meets party and kobra (spark and birdie at the time) when he drives the four of them to a party. because he has a truck hell yeah. so now instead of one stray animal he has, like, a feral cat colony that he drives around occasionally. i have no real-life human relationship equivalent to them because irl if some guy that is not related to any of you and isnt even a childhood or family friend and theyre hanging out with you? they are usually not a safe person lmao. but this is my fantasy land and im too stubborn to change anyones birth years even though ghoul being born in 2004 makes everything really hard to make not creepy.

so yeah hes a casual somewhat friend of the fab four. hed probably get more and more concerned as they got famous. the beginnings of any sort of protective feelings, awww :) that sets him up for becoming the girls mentor.

OH FUCK. THE GIRL..... i think if i was in my late 20s and i heard that the gang of 13-17 year olds had adopted a 5 year old kid i would go bananas. what the fuck. it is a LONG while before cherri meets her. but he has the strongest affection for ghoul (if you could even call it that) and ghoul absolutely adores the girl and swings her around under her arms like a cat to show her off to cherri and its very endearing and the girl is sweet and funny so its easy to be around her. and (unfortunately) she is somewhat used to interacting with weird easily agitated people so she kinda gives him space. cherri isnt quite the uncle figure the fandom usually makes him (i luv uncle cherri sm but he simply cannot exist in the universe ive created, f), but hes a little similar.

and then the four had to go and pretend to die. lol.

when the girl was kidnapped, fucking everyone who knew her was ready to storm the city then and there. like regardless of how little you knew her, if you had ever met her you would fucking die for her. she is pure childish charisma and shes precious. i love the girl. so cherris immediately on board with whatever plan the four make to get her back. ive already talked abt how it fucked up the girl tho; there was no way to tell her that the four werent actually dead, she sees the building collapse and she shuts down. and cherri has to fight against his instinct to leave the radio station and never come back when he sees an eight year old girl sitting dissociated on the couch. that fucks everyone up.

i just realized i havent talked about literally anyone else at the radio station. i think cherri started lingering around the station bc it was safe and sheltered while also not being a popular spot. there are less kids there (people pass through but its not a hangout spot). he was kind of just hanging around to get away from the heat and noise and dr d took notice. because that man can see ur soul and no one knows if thats literal or not. so theyd chat a few times a day and show pony was the one 2 get him out of his shell a little and also was the first one he mentioned his poetry hobby to. im making this all up right now as im writing bc i dont know anything about LITERALLY any of the ppl associated w the radio like im not even going 2 try with chimp n newsie i do not have the willpower to tackle all that. justttt. cherri pony n D become bros and live 2gether there.

back 2 the regular timeline. the rescue mission happens in 2019. the girl lives at the station until 2023. during that time she is very much depressed and withdrawn and is only happy when the four come to visit. none of the Adults know how to help her so they just keep her safe and cared for and hope she'll open up to them.

she does not. she takes the weird cat thats been hanging around and she runs away.

cherri does not see her for three years. shes still worse for wear in the mental health department and he can see all kinds of visions of what shes been through since the last time he saw her and he fucking hates the ultra vs bc they remind him of his past. he does not want her going down that path but its obvious that she isnt crazy abt the ultraviolence thing either so thats a relief.

they have a kind of tense relationship throughout the comics. he feels like he failed her and that spirals into feeling like he failed the four for not being a good adult to them and fun ghoul for not helping enough when his commune was bombed and all kinds of shit and that irrational thinking mixed with plain old, yknow, caring about the girl, is what makes him take a bullet (laser. whatever) for her.

i was trying to figure out the timing of each of their ghost experiences, but i want both of them to talk to the witch and im just gonna make it like dreams where a whole buncha stuff happens but irl its been like seconds. so its like barely a second while the girl has her Witch Convo and cherri FINALLY gets a straight answer, yes there is weird shit going on with him having powers. he doesnt have any story-significant past lives because im lazy, hes just an old soul. like really fuckin old. the amount of latent life experience and stuff his soul/energy/whatever has picked up along the way makes him VERY noticeable to gods n stuff. he fuckin lights up all the alarms like what the FUCK is that over there. she wasnt rly able to get to him or even properly notice him while he was a kid and a young adult so shes happy to finally see him again. he has a STRONG sense of familiarity with her. they know each other on a wild ass level that he cant really comprehend.

welp thats some more lore I'll have 2 think abt. anywayz

post canon is when he and val get to have the most awkward spiderman meme moment of realizing that they have the same trauma SOOOOO thatz fun lol /s sorry kings i thought it would be fun to give u something fucked up to bond over <3

not much changes in his personality. he has a better understanding of Weird Magic and delights in freaking out the ultra vs but for the most part he returns to his life at the radio station. i love him

THIS GOT SO CRAZY LONG I DID NOT MEAN 2 GO THROUGH EVERY PART OF HIS LIFE LIKE SOME WEIRD CHARACTER STUDY but here we are. this is basically a first draft like almost all of this is subject to change but u gotta start somewhere. so heres my start i love this guy. its probably obvious but i have not read ANY twitterverse killjoys stuff </3 maybe i will someday idk

#cat talks #lore #ok2rb but what a mess this post is

3 notes · View notes

whorangecassidy · 5 years ago

Text

MASSIVE vent under the cut eek

i know ive said it before but quarantine hit me (for real this time) emotionally HARD today and im feeling way too much. both good and bad things but just the fucking volume of emotions hitting me feels like garbage in the end. i think its been 3 weeks for me coming up on saturday?

the break from work honestly is amazing because ive been working at my job for a little over a year and a half consistently with only a few days breaks in between. its literally not a bad job at all, i work 4 days a week and am off 3 (theyre almost never back to back, schedules are normally me working tues & wed, off thurs, work fri & sat and stuff like that) so i have no right to complain because i do absolutely get rest. its just.. the social battery aspect where if im constantly at something the longer i need to recharge and i feel like ive been burnt the fuck out at work for the past few months bc whenever i have off i rest and dont do anything productive for my home life while worrying about going back to work. so this break was absolutely needed for me.

but (i know this is my own fault) ive been holed up in my room alone the entire 3 weeks. i hung out with [redacted] ONCE and that was only for about an hour and because we had a mini emergency we needed to handle. i miss watching smackdown with [redacted, different person] every friday (even though she keeps trying to get me to write her smut fanfic), i cant see her because she’s an essential employee and could risk getting me sick if i see her. my other group of friends are essential too so i cant drink with them, ive been drinking by my fucking self alone in my room with my sister checking on me every once in a while to make sure i dont accidentally hurt myself.

and the yearning does NOT help the situation at all lmao. ive always been a hopeless romantic, ive never dated anyone in my life. never kissed. closest thing i ever got to literally anything was my crush putting his hand on my thigh when i was 16. i cant communicate with people, it makes me so fucking nervous. its a fact that ive got anxiety, and to be quite honest with all the social issues i had growing up (and still have!!) i think i might have some sort of developmental disorder as well. but ive had all this love and emotion pent up inside me with nowhere to go for 20 years and i swear to god i might explode. i hate it!! i hate it so much!! every time i post soft thoughts and stuff like that my heart shatters because ive never had anything even remotely like that and i just.. need to physically feel something- anything- with someone

i know in order to feel better i need to get up and fucking do something. but when you spiral its so fucking hard to get out, and the fact that i literally cant go out anywhere i want to go is making it a thousand times harder than it usually is. and like i said before this “vacation” is helping me recharge and im so thankful for it, but i also haven't been alone with my thoughts this long in over a year and theyre hitting me so unbelievably hard.

i have literally nothing to complain about. my family is safe, we’re not in financial distress, nothing bad has happened to me or anyone around me. its just my own shitty mind pulling out the fucking firing squad on me for no god damn reason. so i know ill be fine. ive always been fine. i always will be fine. i just needed to put this out somewhere because holy fuck its so much tonight.

if youre reading this, your probably a mutual, so im gonna say some stuff. every time i say “i love you” i mean it sincerely from the bottom of my heart. even if we dont talk. you guys have gotten me through the better bulk of this situation. if i didnt have you guys to just be a lovey-dovey weirdo with who knows where i wouldve been. and just for funsies to name a few names- ellie, tess, alma, ashley, emi, dani, dirt, rj, joey, eloise, soda, hell anyone who’s ever interacted with my posts- you guys are the fucking coolest and i love you so much. thank you.

#shut up rusty #im completely okay i just really needed to vent #typing all that out actually made me feel way better sdjfks

5 notes · View notes

aplaceforthesoul · 5 years ago

Note

this past year my mental health been going down the drain, im sad constantly,i starved myself for 3 months last year without anyone ever finding out (im ok now, or at least getting better) and no one knows about any of it. and i know if i told anyone they would tell me to get help, but im scared. i dont want people to know about my mental health spiraling out of control. today the smallest thing just kinda finally broke me today. i was home alone and i went to get a spoon and im not sure why but

for some reason it just broke me. i broke down. and had a zoom meet w/ a teacher 30 min from then so i had to pull it together and pretend like it was ok. ive been pretending so much that i get scared everytime someone asls me if im ok. i alsways think was i not smiling enough. on top of it even though ive stoped starving myself i still weigh myself daily and hate my body. im also just tired of dealing with shitty "friends" people who are oxic, people who have me up all night thinking of our arguments. i havnt had a good nights sleep in weeks. i just dont know how to trust anyone anymore. im a mess and im scared for people to find out about my mental health, oh and im a lesbian and my family doesn't know so thats a fucking nightmare. they would be fine with it but my mom would tell everyone so im scared to tell her. i have no one to talk to. only one person knows a little bit about my mental health. only the toxic people she knows about. im scared if i tell her to much she'll worry and try to get me help. and i know i need it but i dont want people to know. i always told myself once i get to college ill get a therapist and i won't have to tell anyone. i just need advice, please

it’s like being stuck between a rock and a hard place I suppose, both options in front of you suck and you don’t like either of them )-: on one hand we have the rocky hard option of getting help, but that option might make your skin crawl because you feel so anxious and on edge? but the other option is to keep quiet and not say anything, and you feel just as shitty and miserable. I get the dilemma, I really really do.

however...as someone who cares about your health and your mental well-being, as someone who’s removed from the situation and has a different (and maybe slightly more objective) perspective on things? my best suggestion, is to start talking about things and to get help. why should you wait until college for a therapist? 0: that’s a serious genuine question, what is the benefit of waiting? why make a choice to spend more time than necessary being in such a dark, lonely and isolating place?

I can’t even begin to imagine how mentally exhausted and drained you are at the moment, what you’re having to deal with (the disordered eating thoughts, the fear around being lgbtqia, the lack of sleep, being constantly sad and feeling like you have to fake it) isn’t something that anyone should have to try and navigate alone.

if you don’t want to tell anyone that you’re lesbian? then you most certainly don’t have to at all, that information is yours and it’s not harming anyone if you keep quiet. when you choose to come out is 100% up to you, don’t feel bad if you have to “hide” that from certain people, your sexuality is your business and no-one else’s.

everything else though, the sadness and the self esteem and disordered eating thoughts and the lack of sleep as a result of toxic friends? that’s definitely something to talk to someone about, that’s worth seeking help about. it’s not going to be easy!! I won’t lie, it is going to feel intimidating and you probs are going to feel naked and vulnerable at times, but it’s fucking worth it. once you move past feeling vulnerable, you feel such a sense of relief at getting it off your chest! honesty + communication are your friends, not enemies. you could even write a rough draft and send it to us if you like, before you talk to someone? we’d be happy to give our thoughts if that’s something that could help you feel more confident about what you’ve written.

if you like you can talk to your mum then go for it, or maybe this other friend who knows a bit about what you’re dealing with at the moment? but if not then there’s lots of other options, this post on the blog has more info on that. also? start to distance yourself from ‘friends’ who aren’t healthy and good for you anymore. you might not be able to choose your family, but you can choose your friends! and if these ‘friends’ make you feel negative and sad and upset, if they don’t listen to you or value you or show that they like being around you and appreciate you? then they’re not really worth having as friends anymore. they’re not exactly fundamentally terrible people, just not the right people to have in your life now.

start making yourself a priority, put yourself and your wellbeing and your mental health first! if you’ve got shit friends then stop talking to them and involving them in your life, focus your energy on getting a good nights sleep (more on that here), make lots of time to take care of you. a problem shared is a problem halved, if people know then people can help you and that’s a good thing. keep me updated on things lovely, all the best <3

- tash

#advice #sadness #weight #weight tw #friends #stress #Anonymous

2 notes · View notes

stevie-rcgers · 6 years ago

Text

The Roman Word for Love // III

Bucky Barnes x Reader

Summary: where you had bruises, cuts, and scars your soulmate got flowers. everyone is born with one soulmate. bucky barnes lived long enough to have two.

Word Count: 1,100+

Rating/Warnings: none

a/n: WOOOOO. now that we got all that exposition out of the way let’s get on with it shall we. a big thank you to @bipcoin and @speedypan for helping me edit this <3 additionally, if you would like the be tagged pls send an ask. it's easier for me to keep track and make sure everyone who would like to be tagged is. thank you guys soo much

*additional a/n at the end

Previous | Next ; masterlist

Bucky sat silently at the edge of the bed. He was always awake before dawn. Blue eyes watched as particles danced in the rays leaking through the spaces between the blinds; golden light began pouring steadily into the space, cutting through the thick darkness of his room.

It was simple. Cream colored walls decorated simply with dark furniture and dark sheets, accented only by the small potted plants he’d brought from his time with T'Challa and his sister.

It’d been a long time since he had had a real place to live. A lifetime since he had somewhere to truly call his own. A real bed, an address, a place he could feel safe. It was nice.

Slowly he pushed himself off his already tidied bed and dragged himself through the rest of the empty apartment to the kitchen. Even at this ungodly hour, his roommate had already gone out for his morning jog with Sam, a routine for theirs from the past the pair had recently restarted.

It was a simple apartment. Full of simple things, chronically clean. A modern design style complimented by the plethora of things that reminded him of the old days; the old mahogany radio perched on the kitchen island and the gramophone prominently displayed in their living room were among his favorites.

He ate his breakfast on their small balcony, watching the play called humanity play out before him. He watched as mothers waited with their children for the school bus, spotted couples dancing in the morning sun, sharing a sweet moment. It was comforting knowing that even after seventy years the world had mostly stayed the same.

In the natural light, he traced the lines on his skin. Soft pensive expression on his face. Since little Morgan pointed them out he’d found himself searching for any others. He had them all over his body, small for the most part. He found himself keen to trace the one on his finger the most, it was the only one that was constantly visible, the most visceral reminder.

He wasn’t sure how he felt about them. No. He felt too many things about them. Chiefly, he felt hopeful and that made him uncomfortable. His life had been so cruel. He had been present for all the unfair things fate had in store. Why would it start being kind to him now?

He was afraid. Bucky Barnes was afraid to let himself find happiness, afraid that he’d pull his soulmate into a world of hurt and pain. Be too complicated.

A dark grey cloud of despair settled on his muscular shoulders as he tumbled down the rabbit hole of negative thoughts. He sat in the silence for a while longer until the morning twittering of the birds urged him from his seat.

Rising, he walked to the kitchen, placed his dishes in the sink to soak, then moved to his bathroom. He needed a shower. The cool water refreshing against his hot skin, clarity and the closest thing he had to peace returned to him, easing his spiraling mind.

He let himself think of his past, the good parts. Running around Brooklyn with Steve getting into trouble, his family, the Howling Commandos, Peggy, and finally Dot. The fond memories lifting his spirits as he dried off.

He wondered how they had lived, if they ever thought of him before they...

He felt himself slipping back to the sorrow of regret and lost love, lost life, longing for what could have been. He swallowed hard, an attempt to recenter himself. He'd found closure, or at least he thought he had, but he couldn't deny that the feelings still lingered.

He wanted to let them all know he was okay.

The resolve picked him up a little. He had never really had the time for a visit. What would he say? How would he explain everything to them? The bittersweetness followed him as he closed the apartment door behind him. He’d need to pick up some flowers for their graves on the way.

Steve let his eyes take in the sight of your face across the round cafe table, your hair blowing in the soft midday wind. It had been nearly two months since he’d last seen you, weeks since the tearful phone call he placed to let you know he was safe.

“How have you been?” Steve spoke first as you set your baby blue mug back down on the table.

“I’ve been good.”

You took the opportunity to take the sight of him in. His impossibly blue eyes cool in the mild heat, his beautiful blonde locks glistening in the sun. He looked like a vision, relaxed, rested, refreshed or at the very least more so then you had ever seen him.

You filled him in on your life since he had been away and Steve did the same, concealing only a few details to keep you from worrying, informing you of his decision to pass on the shield, telling you about the family he had made from himself in this century.

A moment passed sweetly between you, exchanging optimistic smiles at the fortune the universe had afforded you both. The conversation flowed easily. This was your favorite part about being around him, everything came so naturally.

“So, Rogers, what are your plans?” You asked softly, timidly breaking the silence.

Steve leaned back in his chair, pensive. His thoughts wandered to his lost friends, what they had given him: a chance at a real life. What were his plans?

“What’s it like, the world?” He asked almost comically, an internal query having unconsciously escaped. Steve had been awake for over twelve years yet he still felt a little lost. He had always been a soldier. A hero watching from afar, protecting, caught up in bigger things. He had never had time to find his place or where he fit in.

“Why don’t you find out for yourself?” You asked in a whisper leaning toward him in your chair, excited.

You often forgot that behind it all, Steve was from another era, transplanted to your time, stolen from his. Relatively speaking, this world was still so new to him. You brightened at the realization that you could be a part for his journey, “I’d be happy to come along.”

A smile spread on his face at the suggestion, “I’d like that.”

The two of you continued the light-hearted banter as Steve walked you home; the sun slinking behind the horizon, his coat wrapped around you. Exchanging goodnights, you handed it back to him as you reached your doorstep, watching as he pulled it back onto his impossibly broad shoulders.

From your open doorway, you touched the cut on your right index finger as he left. A bittersweet feeling burned at your heart. If Steve Rogers wasn’t the person meant for you, your soulmate, who in the world was?

Previous | Next ; masterlist

a/n: i will be switching to a weekly upload schedule for TRWFL. i love writing this fic and i need about 5-8 days to write, edit, and fully put together a full chapter. see you guys soon for part IV. <3 -jae

TRWFL Taglist: @smileyishere92 @shhh-no-ones-home @rootcrop @lovely-geek @ziablackkat @shh-no-ones-home

#bucky barnes imagine #bucky barnes #bucky barnes x reader #marvel #mcu #the roman word for love #trwfl #mine #bucky x reader #bucky imagine #steve rogers

77 notes · View notes

projectpieces · 3 years ago

Text

so happy, so at peace

when i am connected to myself, i feel most at peace. i havent checked in about 3 weeks. it has been proven time and time again that when i dont check i feel better, stronger. some days, the urges do come. i can catch them when they do. the space between the thought, the feeling, and the urgency are wider. i can sit in the space longer. i can breathe through the feeling, the thought comes and goes before it spirals. we are in a good place right now.

sometimes, when it gets to comfy... the urge to check lingers. i think “im good im a lot better, ill just do a quick check” - it is never a quick check. it is an addiction. a slippery slope. even thinking about it now is sending a stress signal. i felt the need to write. i havent been journaling. i forget how much it helps. my therapist reminded me it would be a good idea to get my thoughts down. i used to write so much. when i do, i feel connected to myself, and when i feel connected to myself, i feel most at peace.

i spent a day to myself today and i feel good. very very good. the space is necessary. i need to separate myself from everything and everyone so i know what my default feels like. its wonderful. i love how i feel: i feel free, i feel untouched and unmoved by anything outside of me. if i could spend more time alone, i would. if theres anything ive learned to value in the past two years, it is removing myself. removing myself with the intention to know myself untouched, unmoved, uninfluenced by outside forces. sometimes things are just going so fast, we’re overloading on information and stimuli, we forget who we are or how we feel when we sit and do nothing, purposefully. ive been around nature lately and its reminded me to chill. we are alive and existing. we are not here to tire ourselves for other people or external things.

along with removing myself, ive learned how to love people from a distance. ive learned how to stop loving things by association. that as time passes and life moves through me, i am to evolve. i have died and been reborn countless times. i am lucky to have lived several lives in one physical form. we must remove ourselves from the places that we are conditioned to think serve us. we must move as we recondition ourselves. we are taught to latch on to things and people, as though they are part of our identity. even attaching yourself to an identity is holding yourself captive to move, stretch, and grow. you are not here to find yourself, you are here to learn and change. keep listening to whatever makes you feel love and teaches you about who you are in that moment. stay connected to yourself only. you will be most at peace when you know what is feeding you and what parts of your soul need to be nourished.

it is surprising too, when you realize the people you need to love from a distance are people you wanted to be closest to. especially when you grow up in a house of sick people - mentally ill and addicted people - of course you gravitate towards such a community. of course you want to love on and care for those people the most - the forgotten ones, the neglected ones. of course you want to hold the most space for them and give them all your love and attention. but being around people who constantly romanticize the life that is causing you suffering is only affirming that that lifestyle is ok. it is not serving you. that headspace is cloudy and anxiety-inducing. the thoughts and your interaction with those thoughts are keeping you sick. they can have their community, but it is not in your best interest to keep them close. its ok to remove yourself and love them from a distance.

you are most at peace when you love everyone with enough space to still know yourself and love yourself first. we need space so we can love on ourselves the hardest, only we know what we like. only we know what makes us feel the highest good.

loving people from a distance is not abandonment. it is simply loving yourself. it is taking a step back. it is boundaries you are putting up for and from yourself. in a sense, it is giving them the space to love themselves too. as long as their energy is serving them, you can mind your own. do what makes you feel good and let others do what makes them feel good.

n thats on self-love.

0 notes

dandystones · 5 years ago

Text

Yes means no.

***There are two parts to this long ass post because I didn't realise I had so much to say oops***

Setting boundaries, I recently learnt I've been terrible at that for most of my life.

I hate when people tell me what to do, to the point I'd do the exact opposite, but I always wanted validation. I sought it from everyone and their mothers because I never got it from myself.

The internet seems to talk a big game about how the universe will keep on sending you lessons in all it's glorious forms if we don't pick up on it; like how we always encounter the same toxic people and relationships, one after another.

It's funny when I recall them now.

***PART 1***

I like to think I've been very blessed when it came to friendship. All through my life, I've always felt that I made friends easily and had plenty of platonic support. However at different stages of my life, I've also noticed that despite all the good friends I surrounded myself with, I've always had that one person in my life who was just a little too self absorbed, borderline narcisstic and treaded way too close for comfort.

For reference, I'm going to list some people but not their whole names: my mum >> X >> O >> H >> C

The most coincidental thing I've come to realise is 1) that each person had a specific time in my life where they rose to prominence, or in other words, where they suffocated me the most 2) the end of each 'stage of prominence' was the start of the next. For example, when I thought I'd finally stepped out of my mum's narcissistic shadow, X stepped and morphed into that narcisstic figure until I'd decided it was time to cut ties. Around the same time, I met O and she slowly morphed into that person.

Continously, I realise I've always had that one presence in my life and each person would stay for many years until a breaking point, after which I would draw the line and keep my distance. As a rough estimate, I took about 25 years to understand that this exhausting cycle of going through toxic loved one after another is simply a lesson of setting boundaries.

I came to this realization in the past 6-12 months because I was having a particular hard time adjusting at work and it was really tough to master the art of stakeholder management. I won't say I'm an expert now, but I've gotten much better at putting my foot down and helping people to understand how their basic (read: brainless) actions are making my job unnecessarily difficult and defying my work ethics. I started to understand the importance of setting my own boundaries because we can never assume anyone would know them if we don't speak it.

Around the same time, I noticed the last person in this cycle, C had started to transition out of her role as the narcisstic shadow in my life entirely on her own. I've never had that happen to me without having to ruthlessly cut ties before. It's like something just clicked. On hindsight, the lesson just made sense and perhaps because I understand what it is now, there was no longer a need for the lesson to remain.

I always thought I was good at saying no to people, because I didn't care what they think which is true for the most part, I don't care what strangers think. What I came to realise about myself was that I needed help saying no to non strangers, people I care about, the people I need in my life.

***PART 2***

The word 'no' carried too much grief and associated history with abuse and neglect. My parents never made it easy for me growing up; affection was a competition between myself and both my younger sisters. My father could never find balance at work, so he overcompensated by trying to take control of everything at home. Nothing I said nor did could ever please him, he was always angry about the tiniest thing.

Everything was someone else's fault; between denying me any help with school work because I didn't go to a school of his choice and completely beating my self esteem down because I dare ask him for any help to a seemingly insignificant act like him accidentally stepping on my toes at the supermarket, he would twist and mold all my words until they made him looked like a hero in his own fantasy, that I was beneath him, and that everything bad that happened in his life was my fault and no one else's.

You couldn't fight him with reason even if you tried to, because he wasn't fighting for anything, he just wanted to win and he would say anything to wear you down. Every night would end in the same way, a disgustingly heated verbal mess between him, myself and my mom; abuse of any kind is simply the cheap power you get when you destroy people for the sake of your ego.

My mum was completely helpless in that regard, she stayed the hell out of his way whenever he had an outburst, even if it meant leaving me to fend for myself. I refused to back down from the injustice and his words dug its claws deeper in my gut, every quarrel we had made me sick with anger because no matter how hard I tried to defend myself, every takeaway was how each of his mistakes were the result of my failures even if it had nothing to do with it.

This went on for years. I knew I couldn't run away because I was underage, financially unstable and still needed a roof above my head. I felt absolutely helpless and remember crying myself to sleep all the time, praying to God to take me away - away from here, away from being the family's punching bag, away to another universe where parents actually protected their children, built them up and supported them.

Growing up in an environment where your survival thrived from avoiding all the stressors that could result in rage meant that I became extremely cautious in expressing my needs and opinions out of a fear of of displeasing my parents. Every subsequent outburst was a slap in the face, a painful reminder of how abandoned and unsupported I was in this family.

This led to a series of bad behaviors where I was desperate to please and longed for a life devoid of rejection. For the parts of myself who had endured so much neglect, I just couldn't bare the same devastation over again. Putting myself second and others first was easy as long as they were happy. I had this belief that if I accidently let myself be honest, people wouldn't accept me and I couldn't risk letting my guard down again.

Over time, I started saying yes to everything I wanted to say no to. Yes means no, no came with a '... but I'll do this for you instead' to overcompensate my fear. Slowly but surely, I became exhausted from pleasing people all the time. I said yes to social events I didn't care to be at, I patiently listened to every word of every person who needed me even if they didn't care to be there for me, I helped every toxic person who saw an opportunity to exploit my time and kindness. Without realizing, I was unnecessarily deriving a form of validation from being a yes-girl, I didn't know how to say no. Beyond that I'd lost my sense of self because I didn't know if anyone would care about me if I stopped doing all these things.

This obviously manifested in many unhealthy coping mechanisms and constantly wanting to be alone because I felt that everyone around me wanted something from me I couldn't give. It became a toxic cycle of self harm, feeling absolutely hopeless and finding sick joy in dreaming about the many different ways to end my life. At age 17, I've never felt more alone.

Ive had to see a counsellor for prolonged periods of my life and thisemotional abuse was one of the key moments that contributed to it.

Recovery was one hella of a slippery slope and had relapsed so many times I've lost count. I was convinced my abuse had rewired my body's ability to understand what love was, all I felt was the fire of resentment, burning my insides with the anxiety of having to live out the rest of my life in a bubble of 'my mistakes'.

Through my counsellor, we had to un-learnt the act of being too harsh of myself, as a result of the years I spent projecting my dad's expectations on myself. Rewiring your brain to calm itself down when you're triggered is difficult but not impossible. There were many scenarios where I became aware of the fact that the voice in my head mimicked my dad's in giving all but bone crushing criticism, guilt tripping my every move and spiralling myself into depression again.

Re-learning the notion of 'giving myself to others' whilst being 'unapologetically myself' was interesting and refreshing. Mostly, my subconscious got better at unlearning the act of constantly censoring myself for the sake of others; how to live freely & become a more honest version of myself regardless of the people around me. Not in any manner that might be of harm to others though, just in a way that allows me to stop relying on other people’s validation to keep my spirits lifted.

Every relapse back then sunk me into my depression, harder. Looking back now, I'm glad I didn't give up even though the chance was present and tempting every step of the way. Everyday still feels like a challenge, but I get it now when people say it gets easier

#wfth #getting stronger

0 notes

minniecake · 8 years ago

Text

The Death of Jasper Jordan; a meta

So, let me preface this by saying that this is my first meta, ever. Im a newbie, and I understand I'm dealing with a sensitive subject, but I haven't seen anyone talk about Jasper’s death in length so here I am. I also want to say that I do have experience with what I'm talking about and I am in no way trying to be insensitive. Trigger warning: suicide and depression. ★★( have starred the areas (plural) where the actual simplified reasons of Jasper’s suicide occurred if you don't want to read all of my brain vomit)

Before we get into Jasper’s suicide I want to summarize Jasper’s life for the past 4 seasons’ Jasper gets impaled by a spear and tortured by grounders, kidnapped by Murphy, helps with the grounder ring of fire, gets kidnapped by mount weather, gets abandoned (he thinks she's abandoned them) by Clarke, becomes step-in leader, falls in love with Maya, gives her his blood, sets up and kills Mt. Weather guards, tries to protect Maya, loses Maya, laughs when a man cuts into his throat, takes the chip, tries to kill himself, decides to live just so he can die in a few months, creates DNR, creates a drug that kills all of DNR, kills himself. Now I bring up his journey because it has been a traumatic one, and this leads me into a question I was seeing on twitter, basically people want to know that if characters like Clarke can get through all they've been through and not be suicidal/kill themselves, then why can't Jasper. The answer is a simple but heartbreaking one; thats not always how it goes. Some people just CAN’T. They just... can’t. They see no point in living, they see no light at the end of the tunnel. For Jasper, it was all tunnel.

I want to talk about how much Jasper needs people. Jasper desperately needs people. He clearly doesn’t do good on his own (we first saw this when he couldn't make the shot on the bomb without someone by his side, Monty). He needs Monty, in particular. Monty and him go way back. They were bestfriends. They considered each other brothers. So when Jaspers brother and the two people he had faith/trust in and looked up to the most killed his first and only love, Jasper lost everyone. He lost Maya, Monty, Clarke, and Bellamy all at once. Grief and depression are things you can't go through alone. In the real world we have therapists and medications, in the world of The 100, Jasper didn't have anything. And this is a boy who functions on people, who collapses by himself. So now here we are with Jasper (A 16 YEAR OLD BOY BTW) spiraling with no one to talk to. He can't talk to his bestfriend because his bestfriend had a hand in killing his girlfriend. He can't talk to Clarke because she's gone (and he wouldn't want to, anyway) and he won't talk to Bellamy. (I'm explaining all of this because I want people to see Jasper’s personality and what it demands in order to live a happy life)

We all know what happened the rest of the season. Jasper drank and drank, then he took the chip. Then he cried because he wanted to stay in the CoL. Even Raven, in eternal physical pain without the chip, wanted out. Jasper’s pain consumed him so much he rather feel nothing at all. The only time we see Jasper happy again is when he discovers that he doesn't have to kill himself, the world would just do it for him.

Ive seen many who are upset and confused by Jasper’s suicide. Questions consist of “Why couldn't he get better?” or “Why couldn't he do like Harper and Raven?” well, the answer is clear and messy. This is where we get into debatable, sensitive territory. ★★the real world, not in a fictional TV show, people don't always get better. A lot do, many don't. And this, in its own scary sad way, is representation. Like Raven is representation for disability and WOC, Jasper is representation for depression and suicide (I know Jasper was an amazing representation for mental illness, but mental illnesses don't always get better, sadly. Hopefully they explore mental illness in other characters). Many might be able to relate to Monty now, as he is someone who tried to save a person close to him suffering with depression, but he couldn't. A lot of Jasper’s downfall had Monty in the loop, including the letter Jasper had for him in 4x01 (which could possibly make a reappearance). Monty constantly was a ray of hope, always believing they would get through it and be happier. He tried so hard to get Jasper to want to live. Unfortunately, he couldn’t. This is a real thing that happens. Now I know some could get confused and think of Harper’s line to Monty about her not loving him enough to get her to live, but we know thats not true. We know how much Jasper loved Monty. There are kids who love their parents, people who love their significant other, but kill themselves anyway. Sometimes, depression outweighs love. This is a sad truth that happens everyday.

Now I want to talk about the tie between Jasper/Raven/Harper. These three stories are intertwined with how suicide usually, statistically, goes down. 1. You fight to live for yourself (Raven), 2. You fight to live for someone else (Harper), or 3. You commit suicide (Jasper). ★★ In a world of death and destruction, you can't have all 3 suicidal characters get out of it alive. You just can't.

I hope next episode we see people find out that Jasper committed suicide. I want to see Clarke/Raven/Bellamy’s reaction. I want Jasper’s death to fuel something. We know via interviews that Clarke will lean more on her friends and keep them close, I was wondering if the knowledge of one of her friends losses contributes to this. I also hope we get to see Monty cope with the loss of the only family he had left. Maybe they will explore it in S5? We shall see.

Thank you everyone who read my first ever meta! It is a little discombobulated and might not even be relevant at this point but I wanted to get all my thoughts and feelings out there. Last but never least, RIP Jasper Jordan, I'm going to miss you. Xoxo

@rosymamacita @abazethe100 @the-ships-to-rule-them-all @simul-ut-unus @easnadh1 @head-and-heart @forgivenessishardforus @ginalou16 @insufficient-earth-skills

#jasper #meta #analysis #the 100 #raven #harper #bellamy #clarke #jasper jordan #suicide #death #depression #mental illness #monty

79 notes · View notes

peachesnnndreams · 8 years ago

Note

honestly curious y u and Selene stopped talking tbh

aw jeez nonny thats a really long and weird response…. mostly it was bc i felt like i couldnt trust her,,,, one time she lied to me and my friend and started a fight between us,,, another time she claimed that her side of the story was solid fact even when multiple sources proved otherwise…… she would dig and dig and dig and dig for information past my comfort level and then she’d go about w that information and tell people who didnt really have business knowing these things or she’d decide that in certain moments she was the only person alive allowed to feel insecure or have anxiety or literally any kind of negative emotions ever so if i made any self deprecating jokes as like a coping mechanism to distract myself from my own negative thoughts she would snap at me and make me feel really awful for having these feelings and then she’d guilt me into an apology for apparently making her feel like garbage and i always apologized bc i always thought i was the one treating her like garbage but like,,, every time she was insecure or freaking out like i tried so hard to be there for her nonny and every time she acted like i hadnt done anything ever at all to help her. she had this thing where she made it seem like everyone hated her and like after hearing over and over and over again and i was constantly trying to prove her wrong that i did love her but everything i did was like fake or it didnt matter or she made it like her experiences and her struggles were the standard. if someone had anxiety or if someone was kinda awkward and didnt initiate conversation it wasnt bc they had anxiety and/were awkward it was bc they were awful people who hated her. and she manipulated,,, a lot,,, and im not gonna lie i was under her spell for a long time and sometimes i still kinda am,,, i grew to resent one of my friends until i actually sat down and had a talk w her. and like,,, at times she’d ask me to tell her, her flaws and then argue w me and turn it against me and it all got too much….. the big reason why we stopped talking tho is bc later on in the year i noticed we started going our separate ways she was already getting super close w a lot of her friends in choir and our already small group kinda fractured a bit more,,, i didnt mind tho,,, bc i just really needed a break and i didnt know how the hell to tell this girl this w/o going through another hell cycle of manipulation and guilt except it wasnt like this to her?? a few days later she asks me why ive been leaving her out of the group and why im such a manipulative friend and whatnot and it was kinda just the straw that broke the camels back i broke down started sobbing in the middle of rehearsal and i just kinda realized that this wasnt something i should be getting,,, to make matters worse she never contacted me after this,,, she asked other people to tell her what was wrong w me apparently said she was going to talk to me the next day and then just,,, never,,, contacted me??? and jeez i had this huge plan to talk to her,,, but every time i tried i just felt so sick to my stomach bc i just k n e w i was going to go back to that spiral of manipulation and guilt,,, later i found out from a friend that she was going around and telling everyone that we were all awful people that were not to be trusted and even more later i found out she blocked me on a few social media sites and that just kinda,,, broke whatever hope i had for maybe ever possibly settling this but honestly,,, im curious how you got this information nonny

#rachel answers #anon #did i ever mention #she used to have this habit #of messaging me on anon #whenever she wanted to know something #or tell me something #but didnt want me to know it was her unless she wanted more answers that i wasnt willing to spill online

3 notes · View notes

chocolate-brownies · 6 years ago

Link

It’s there when I wake up. Something’s wrong. I haven’t opened my eyes yet. A minute ago I was sleeping. But now I’m awake and it’s there, lurking: Something’s wrong. My breathing tightens. I stretch my legs beneath the sheets. I feel my heart beating. The sense of creeping fear is diffuse, elusive, hard to pin down. It’s like catching sight of something from the corner of my eye. Something’s wrong.

Only nothing is wrong. I know that. I’ve experienced these bouts of dread for as long as I can remember. It’s familiar, which does not help me hate it any less.

Explaining chronic anxiety to someone who doesn’t experience it is like trying to describe a color they’ve never seen. I have friends who are surprised I suffer from anxiety. After a lifetime of learning to compensate, to push myself beyond my six-year-old fear of joining the Girl Scouts, I do not come across as a nervous Nellie. I am outgoing, talkative, adventurous. Last spring, I planned a Class IV whitewater rafting trip with my husband for three days in the summer. I started dreading it the minute after I booked it.

I go for long periods when anxiety leaves me alone, and I forget the tightness of its grip. But when it comes back, triggered by stress or worry about an upcoming challenge, it sticks around, greeting me every morning like some noxious troll who won’t shut up. Something’s wrong, it insists, or more accurately, something is about to go terribly wrong. I know this thought is irrational, but that doesn’t stop the spiral of anxiety that ensues. Nerves twitch under my skin. I scroll my list of things to do and feel uneasy, even about the tasks I’m (supposedly) looking forward to. When days begin like this, happiness is not on my agenda.

Too Much of a Good Thing

All animals react when confronted with danger, and that’s a good thing. The so-called fight-or-flight response, also known as the stress response, helps animals either move away from a threat or fend it off. Anxiety—the ability to anticipate danger—is even more of a good thing. Anxious humans who avoided areas rife with predators or saved food in anticipation of crop failure had a better chance of staying alive to pass on their genes. And make no mistake, that’s all evolution cares about. It doesn’t care that we exquisitely anxious humans might survive but be miserable a lot of the time, massaging our worry beads down to nubs. Let’s face it, in the modern world, with far fewer real threats in our environment, many of us are suffering from too much of a good thing.

Too much anxiety robs you of your capacity for joy. When everyday worry becomes chronic, it can flip over into one of several flavors of debilitating emotional disorders. Some sufferers develop specific phobias—agoraphobia, claustrophobia, social anxiety. Others, like me, suffer from generalized anxiety disorder, a free-floating emotional malady. The National Institute of Mental Health estimates that one in five Americans have had some kind of anxiety disorder in the past year. In turn, anxiety can lead to sleep disturbances, panic attacks, hypochondria, depression.

With so much misery at stake, it’s a relief to learn that lots of smart people have figured out how to ease anxiety. Whether you suffer from occasional worry or have a full-blown anxiety disorder, it’s possible to become fully engaged in life again. In the last three decades, scientists have decoded the spiral of reactions that, over time, build an anxious brain. Turns out, I’ve wired my own brain to be anxious. The good news is I’m learning to rewire it—and you can, too. The more we know about how anxiety actually works, the better we get at beating back the troll. Or at least making it behave.

Nothing to Fear But Fear Itself

To understand anxiety, you’ve got to start with fear, because anxiety is like fear run amok. Neuroscientists now know there are two distinct pathways in the brain that trigger the fight-or-flight response. Here’s the most direct one: You encounter something in your environment—a man running toward you with a knife, a car veering into your lane on the highway—and a part of your brain called the thalamus sends visual information directly to an almond-shaped structure called the amygdala. That’s the control center for the fight-or-flight response. When the amygdala detects a threat, it triggers a surge of adrenaline and an increase in blood pressure, heart rate, and muscle tension—to prepare you to act. A few weeks ago, as I rode my bike home, I suddenly braked, turned my handles sharply to the left, and barely avoided being hit by a car that had run a stop sign. I never saw it coming. But my amygdala did, and it may have saved my life.

To understand anxiety, you’ve got to start with fear, because anxiety is like fear run amok.

Here’s the modern glitch in that evolutionarily brilliant response: “We don’t go into fight or flight just when we’re being chased by a bear,” says Adrienne Taren, a neuroscientist and emergency-room physician at the University of Oklahoma. “We’re getting it every time our email pings or we’re sitting in traffic. Our amygdala is just going and going and going.” That constant barrage of low-level alarm is what we call stress.

So where does anxiety come in? Because we’re such imaginative creatures, we can get stressed out by simply thinking about something that may go wrong. The part of the brain that worries about a future event we’re anticipating is the prefrontal cortex, and that’s where the second pathway to anxiety starts—the one that creates that flurry of anxious thoughts you can’t seem to control. Worried thoughts in the cortex trigger a stress response in the amygdala, which explains why we can freak out about things that aren’t even happening. “I think of the amygdala as sitting there watching cortex television,” says Catherine Pittman, a clinical psychologist and coauthor of Rewire Your Anxious Brain. “You can be on your back porch, looking at the beautiful trees, but you’re thinking, ‘How am I going to pay my mortgage with these medical bills? They’re going to take my house away!’ Your anxiety spikes even though nothing around you is dangerous.”

It’s important to realize that the cortex can’t create anxiety on its own. It can only activate the stress response when it gets the amygdala involved. The amygdala, on the other hand, can bypass the cortex, detect threats in the environment, and react, quickly. When I swerved to avoid being hit by that car, my amygdala took over while my cortex was still figuring out what was happening. Similarly, when a veteran feels anxious at what sounds like gunfire, it’s because his amygdala has gone into overdrive. The amygdala is constantly sweeping the scene, comparing our current experiences with associations learned long ago and some that are probably hard-wired. When it finds a match, it compels us to react, even if the current situation really isn’t all that threatening.

The cortex is like a parent who intervenes to prevent a child from acting on his or her impulses. It acts as a check for when the amygdala overreacts, recognizing, for instance, that what sounded like gunfire was actually a car backfiring and promptly tamping down the anxiety. Sometimes, though, the amygdala’s response is so overpowering that it drowns out the voice of the cortex. That’s anxiety in overdrive.

The neuroscientist whose work led to the realization that anxiety arises from two distinct neural pathways is Joseph LeDoux, the director of the Emotional Brain Institute at New York University. His discovery of a direct neural pathway to the amygdala overturned the conventional wisdom that the cortex played the starring role in creating anxiety and instead placed the amygdala at center stage. This revolutionary development has enormous implications for why some anxiety treatments work better than others—and for why mindfulness approaches are now getting so much attention.

Getting to the Amygdala of the Problem

In the 1960s, people who suffered from anxiety would have been advised, taking a cue from Freud, that they needed to uncover the unconscious forces driving their fears. By the ’70s a more pragmatic approach had taken hold: Learn to change the thoughts and behaviors that lead to anxiety. Cognitive therapy has proven successful in helping people interrogate the negative thoughts underpinning their worries: Are people really judging me so harshly when I give a presentation? And what’s the worst that can happen if they are? Patients learn to question whether their thoughts are realistic or if they’re catastrophizing based on scant evidence.

We now know that cognitive therapy is effective at tackling anxiety that originates from thoughts in the cortex. But it does nothing to tackle anxiety that arises from reactions in the amygdala itself. “Your thoughts can’t change the way the amygdala reacts through using logic or reasoning with it,” says Pittman, who is also a professor at Saint Mary’s College in Notre Dame, Indiana. “The amygdala only learns through experience.”

So where does anxiety come in? Because we’re such imaginative creatures, we can get stressed out by simply thinking about something that may go wrong.

So how do you target the amygdala directly? One way is through behavioral, or exposure therapy, which helps the amygdala “unlearn” associations it’s made between danger and particular experiences—like encountering strangers, loud voices, boarding a plane, or driving a car. Behavioral therapy uses the gradual, repeated exposure to whatever’s causing anxiety as a way to help the amygdala learn a more neutral association between the experience and our reaction to it.

Another way to treat amygdala-based anxiety is to simply calm down that part of the brain. Medications are one option. Xanax and its other incarnations are members of a class of drugs known as benzodiazepines. “They basically put the amygdala to sleep,” says Pittman. And that works. But if your goal is to lessen anxiety over the long haul, taking benzodiazepines will impede your progress. “What is learning?” asks Pittman. “It’s neurons firing repeatedly so that new connections form. Neurons have to fire to rewire. So if you give someone a medicine that prevents neurons from firing, how is the amygdala going to learn?” Alternatively, the reason that another class of drugs—the selective serotonin reuptake inhibitors known as SSRIs—have proven helpful for anxiety is that they appear to help neurons form new connections. “SSRI’s promote more communication between neurons,” says Pittman. “People start to be able to think outside the box a little.”

But drugs aren’t the only—or the best—way to calm down the amygdala. There’s also the so-called relaxation response. It’s the “rest and digest” antidote to “fight or flight.” Using MRIs, scientists can now see how, just as the amygdala revs up during stress, it calms down when people employ the deep breathing exercises that prompt the relaxation response.

And that’s part of the reason that mindfulness shows so much promise for treating anxiety. Sitting quietly and focusing on the breath activates the relaxation response. But mindfulness-based meditation combines relaxation with something more: a nonjudgmental attitude toward emotions that arise, an acceptance of whatever happens. What the new brain research suggests is that, by combining the relaxation response with a cultivation of paying attention to our thoughts, we can address both of the pathways that lead to anxiety at the same time.

How Mindfulness Changes the Brain

Adrienne Taren began studying mindfulness because she was interested in stress. Studies have shown that mindfulness makes people less reactive to stress and better at regulating their emotions. But as a researcher at Carnegie Mellon back in 2012, Taren wanted to know what was happening in their brains. Her first study compared a group of people—not meditators—who exhibited mindfulness as a personality trait with another group with high stress levels. The results were striking. People who scored highly for mindfulness had smaller amygdalas than those who reported high stress. “The assumption is that a larger amygdala is more active,” she says. “If you have a smaller amygdala,you aren’t so stress reactive.”

The next question: Can people who aren’t mindful by disposition rewire their brains to become less reactive to stress? Taren enrolled high-stress, unemployed people in a three-day retreat, where half were taught relaxation strategies. The others were trained in a condensed Mindfulness-Based Stress Reduction program. “We wanted to find out if there’s something specific about mindfulness that’s causing these effects,” says Taren, “not just that stressed-out people relaxed and felt better.” Taren measured the amygdala size of both groups, and after just three days of mindfulness training, the meditation group had smaller amygdalas. That suggested they’d actually made their brains more resistant to stress.

Perhaps even more significant, Taren found that the mindfulness training had weakened the connection between the amygdala and an area called the anterior cingulate cortex, a frontal region responsible for executive functions like decision making and paying attention. Decoupling the stress center from the logic center allowed people to feel more distance from their anxiety, which made it more manageable. “You’re able to just observe those emotions, which dampens the stress response that keeps the front of the brain from working,” she says.

Taren’s work echoes a growing body of research from neuroscience labs across the country suggesting that mindfulness causes brain changes in both the amygdala and the cortex. Neuroscientists are the first to say that they don’t completely understand the significance of these changes. But for now, they do know that breath-focused meditation seems to help people’s amygdalas become less reactive to their own self-critical beliefs. It also makes them less likely to see social encounters as threatening. When people with generalized anxiety disorder are shown pictures of emotional faces—happy, angry, or neutral—their amygdalas react to the neutral faces more fearfully than to the angry ones. “They perceive them as threatening because they don’t know what the person is thinking,” says Sara Lazar, a neuroscientist at Harvard University. “So they go on high alert.” Lazar found that, after mindfulness training, their amygdalas became less dense—the neurons were like trees that had been pruned—and no longer reacted to neutral faces as threatening.

Mindfulness training also changes the way the prefrontal cortex responds to anxiety. “Anxious people have that voice in their head 24/7, going: ‘What if? What if? What if?’” says Lazar. “Normally we completely identify with that voice, but mindfulness helps us step back and change our relationship to it.” Mindfulness works differently from cognitive therapy, which aims to change thought patterns to short-circuit worry. Instead of trying to eradicate anxiety, mindfulness gets you outside of it so it’s just an experience you’re having. That distance helps you endure experiences you find stressful or scary so your amygdala can learn a new way to react.

Adrienne Taren became interested in mindfulness from the perspective of a stress researcher. But when she saw the changes it evoked in the brain, she began a practice of her own. “I’m the Type A kind of overachiever who developed an anxious personality,” she says.

Mindfulness has helped her in the emergency room, where she needs to stay in the moment and make good decisions. It also helped after a painful bike accident. Taren is an off-road cyclist who rides on gravel for hundreds of miles, for fun. After healing from her extensive injury, she panicked when she tried to mount the bike for a competition. Her natural reaction was to suppress her anxiety. But her mindfulness training helped her see another way. “I started talking to my anxiety. I was like, ‘Hello, we’re going to be together for the next 20 miles.’ I was able to picture my anxiety as this little bubble of emotion floating along beside me,” she says. “It was almost comforting.”

A Little Fear Goes A Long Way

Around the same time my fear of joining the Girl Scouts was keeping me up at night, a little girl was born in a Midwestern town with a rare genetic disease. By the time she reached adulthood, the disease had entered her brain, destroying her amygdala. That woman, now known as Patient S.M., helped scientists discover the key role the amygdala plays in anxiety and fear. S.M. feels no fear from external threats.

To me, that sounded like a dream come true. When I first developed a mindfulness practice, I secretly hoped I could shrink my almond-shaped amygdala down to a peanut. To live fearlessly, able to take risks, pursue adventures, connect with other people without holding back out of worry that my body’s nervous system might betray my uncertainties? Sign me up.

But over the last year or so, my goal has shifted. Extinguishing anxiety is no longer what I’m after. Instead, when anxiety arises, I simply pay attention to its physical manifestations, and slowly—not because I’m wishing it away—my worry recedes. It sounds crazy, but having started on this journey to do everything I could to obliterate anxiety, I’ve learned to value the role it plays in my life. It helps me be more compassionate with myself. It reminds me to trust other people. And that leads us back to Patient S.M.

She has no fear, so her curiosity knows no bounds. She is aggressively social and wants to interact with every stranger she meets. “She has zero personal space,” says Justin Feinstein, a neuroscientist at Laureate Institute for Brain Research in Tulsa, who’s studied her extensively. “There’s no bubble. She has no discomfort looking you in the eye even if you’re a total stranger.” When Feinstein took S.M. to an exotic pet store, she held a snake and closely examined it, rubbing its scales and stroking its flicking tongue. She wanted to touch a large dangerous snake—asking to do so 15 times—despite being told it might bite her.

S.M.’s story offers a lesson in the crucial balancing act between letting our curiosity lead us to new encounters and heeding the fear that makes us avoid them. She’s been the victim of assault many times—had a knife held to her throat, been held at gunpoint—because she is unable to recognize threatening situations. To be sure, living without an amygdala is dangerous. But for those of us with the opposite problem, whose amygdalas see threats all around us? We might benefit from paying more attention to our curiosity, the antithesis of fear.

In the weeks before our rafting trip, my greatest anxiety was of fear itself. I worried what I’d do if my body betrayed me, gasping for breath and panicking. I’d prepared for months, with daily meditation, but even so, my anxiety as we drove to the meet-up point was high. I used every tool in my box: I sang songs on the radio to distract me. I awoke at our campsite by the river the next morning and meditated. Then I took a half tablet of Xanax.

That first day on the river, I bonded with the four Hawaiian men in our boat. As we crashed over the rapids, I observed “me” in the boat, too busy to feel anxious as we paddled like crazy. My vantage point had shifted: Instead of feeling buffeted by each rapid, I just saw myself paddling down the river. I didn’t once panic…even on one particularly gnarly rapid when we crashed into a boulder and my husband somersaulted out of the boat. He was OK. And—I realized—I was too. For the next two days I meditated in the morning, but I didn’t reach for the Xanax. My amygdala was learning there was nothing to fear. My sensations of anxiety had changed to excitement. By the last day, I felt like I could paddle on whitewater every day.

I won’t lie: I’ve awoken anxious many days since that trip. But there’s a distance to my angst that wasn’t there before. I’ve noticed that the physical experience of anxiety doesn’t have to spiral out of control, that it can even make me feel more alive. I call this the Anxiety Paradox: By allowing myself to feel anxious, to not succumb to the desire to “just make it go away,” anxiety somehow lessens its grip on my psyche. And that opens up a space to let joy in.

The post Make Peace with Your Anxious Brain appeared first on Mindful.

#sleep sounds #sleep music #white noise app #nature sounds #relaxing sounds #rain sounds for sleeping

0 notes

idksheepthoughts · 7 years ago

Text

Conversations Me: you actually soft blocked me.... any reason why?

Her: lol the fact that you noticed this late but it happened on accident actually and i went and unblocked but at that point i was like lmao like she'll notice so i never mentioned it

Me: If you hate me just say so. No need to lie.... I don't check shit like that every day but it's not that many days since I know it was maybe a week or less ... Whatever. I'm so splitting atm. So I'll shut up before I say something else

Her: hate? when the fck did i mention that? yes, better shut up before you stick your foot in your mouth as usual since i've done nothing hostile to you as if me feeling like i matter to no one and have the smallest amt of friends possible is somehow how an Attack on You.

Me: you blocked me... on "accident" how does that even happen.... i've told you tons of times that the amount of friends depends solely on yourself. and your willingness to talk to people and work past the anxiety and fear that talking to people causes. . . otherwise I wouldn't even have friends. because if i isolated and neveer talked to anyone ever first that nobody would talk to me in the first place. . . ugh whatever. i've said too much im just going to sober up and talk later i guess.... I can't always be here I try to be but like we said previously, i didn't know what to do between give you loads of attention and give you nothing at all...

Her: tumblr mobile? lol. if you can't believe me when i say that then i don't really want to talk to you since everytime i feel bad or have like, negative feelings regarding my own situations you always take it so personally (1) and then i have to dread these fcking conversations so when we've been talking normally on twitter it all goes to fcking shit because you can't accept that i get to feel bad and feel upset about stuff regardless of whether or not im taking actions to help myself in my own way at my own pace...doesn't mean you get to think that i hate you so i blocked you because what the fuck how does it work when we've been chatting like everyday on twitter? and it was (what i thought) fine? good? (2) if it really was the case i wouldve blocked you here or just flat out deleted since then i'd only have one fucking follower :) so just. let me have emotions. and don't assume things. this is so funny because i remember you getting mad at me months ago for the same exact thing and here we are, situations reversed

Me: BECAUSE i have a huge fear of abandonment.... it was fine but this stuff even if its an accident just idk .... i guess you never saw how much abandonment even if its an accident sends me into depressive spirals??? have i ever left you no. i've been distant yes but i've never full on unfollowed or left... idk you block me a lot and delete and it hurts every time.

Her: "even if" can you believe me????? first off???? (3) and no you havent god if it was such a problem just follow me and then ask me about it because why would i lie lol (4) i don't like friendships built on lies i'll never talk to someone like that genuinely i have insecurities too. i have enough

Me: ok it was an accident.

Her: i didn't even think it was a problem first off considering all those people you put on your thanksgiving post. and then you never noticed/messaged me about so i was like k, so that's that! and just talked w/ you normally here (5) so let's just accept the fact that we've got our problems and there's better ways to handle this than assuming motives

Me: so you did change url because of that post??? like my paranoid ass thought???? i was right on that???? cause i noticed that and was like... maybe its not related but was it????? cause I just want to know... im not mad at that at all just... i want to not assume things atm. and i notice stuff slowly because I try not to fall into obsessive traits. its not healthy to check who im following or who is greyed out or blocked every single day. . . I try to just let things be but when I do notice stuff i can't help but explode. I tried to be calm by just asking why.... but i clearly failed at that. its whatever. I followed back. if it happens again just like.. tell me please??? this stuff makes me so close to slitting my wrist

Her: no, i changed my url because i was sitting on that url for a while and i wanted to use it

Me: okay, it was just a paranoid thought.

Her: well, i really, really, really, don't like when you start assuming things even after i tell you or not believing me. we've been friends for how long? does it mean nothing? you'd think i'd lie at this point? x____x (6) .those thoughts make me want to die

Me: i'm sorry for thinking irrationally, but with how many people just up and leave, all the time even with being friends for long periods its hard not to jump to conclusions. I am in the wrong for falling into my own paranoid thoughts. You explained things and I don't believe that you are lying so its fine.

Her: oh, now you believe me after i have to hold your hand when i'm upset (7) whatever i'm probably not going to follow back because i hate that i have no friends and my mutuals ignore all my posts when i try to put myself out there it's gotten to a point where i can't post stuff on tumblr anymore because i know no one gives a shit like even as happy as i am about my commission i know if i post that on my tumblr i'll make the artist seem bad when no one likes my post idc. i'm bitter and alone and probably always will be because i don't have any friends aside from you o/ like, be grateful you even have that many people to be grateful for (8) i'd kill for it i feel like dying when i think about this and i think about it a lot but ofc i don't moan about it anywhere except on this stupid fucking twitter account where you seem ot think i live a dandy life (9) it fcking sucks bc im trying my best! anyways im done lol oh and then you post shit like *Edit* (Screenshot of some tags where I said I always listen to people but nobody likes listening to me so I talk to my cats a lot which is true because I’m a burden and i hate bothering people with my problems so much) that when you damn well no i have no one else to listen to except you online and we've been civil lately but ok! i guess i don't care! because im living it up! #sarcasm (10)

Me: you havent followed me in probably over 10 or so months, whenever i remade, cause i don't think you followed me when i delteed either, i didn't expect a follow back at all. i just expect us to be not mutuals but still friends? THEN TALK TO PEOPLE TALK TO PEOPLE AND TALK TO PEOOPLE thats all i did was work past my fears and talk to people and some stuck around some didn't. i dont know what else to say. some of those people haven't actually spoken to me in months either but im still grateful for them. I have nothing else to really advise on that other than you gotta put the talking in first. thats all i've done and its somehow managed to not fuck it up for this long??? i dont think i've had any friend longer than whenever we started being friends... so around 2 years...

Her: no offense but just talking to people doesn't do shit :) but seriously, thanks :) (Phone lagged) So I repeated my previous message by accident)

Her: yeah probably the only reason you havent fucked it up is because i dont want to be fucking alone and i dont give up easily so ive stayed with this even fi you make me feel like fucking shit when this happens & since you said nothing to everything else i just said i guess im right :) god im over this i dont want to fight and i dont want to talk to you becaus eim always explaining my problems and you just like. tell me the same shit each time as if it'll magically do stuff liek the fact that im trying doesnt mean anything i dont wanna talk to you if its always going to be like this ill take the goddamn loss and be lonely while youve got your fucking harem of friends idc if its an exaggeration the point is everyone i considered a friend has just stopped talking to me completely and the only thing i get here is you telling me what to do like i need cold hard instructions for making a friend

ME: Harem??? You know nothing about anything. Ya know what..... forget it. If it's better I don't say anything because nothing I says helps and I'm a broken record. You want to assume because I tagged a lot of people doesn't mean I wasn't just fishing for validation. Me trying to help is just being a dumb mistake. I can't help anyone and why I try is also confusing because I am pointless. I'm keeping you in my note regardless you have been here and listened and that hadn't changed. But if this is just going to explode it's going to explode. All I do is ruin everything and I don't even care anymore I'm going to buy a gun soon anyways. So what's the point in trying to make something work. I've always been a shit friend and it's just not worth it to you at this point. So okay.

Her: HERE let me qutoe for you something "idc if its an exaggeration" ^^^^^^^ unlike you im aware when im being irrational lmao (11) apparnetly you get to be and i dont thats how it always is did you ever think about it feels for me when my only friend does shit like this constantly like lmao ofc not bc why would you consider anything from my point of view this conversation is over until you want to stop fucking assuming i dont care LOL and acting as if me letting you go is the best thing that could happen to me like we couldnt j ust talk on twitter and let it fucking be but you have todrag it all in at least i get to get stuff off my chest thats the only fucking good that comes out of this like you dont get that you telling me the same thing hurts because it doesnt fucking work and i dont have any fucking friends i have college to deal with and studies and that pressure but you dont know the half of it? but you just want to assume, assume, assume (12) i cried already out of anger

Me: I didn't have friends in college either

Her: big offense but i dont want to continue this conversation

ME: Okay

Her: unles syoure willing to admit to your bullshit because ima lways doing that and im always getting the end of your shit

Me: I am made of nothing but bullshit I'm nothing but a huge fucking shit storm and I always will be. You should have left a long time ago because I don't know how to not be toxic It's not That I won't be upset by you leaving far from it but you deserved better people and maybe if you had left and kept trying as you have been things will turn around. Because literally everyone that has ever done that with me ended up fine and in a good spot. I hold people back. And that's all I can think of. I ruin other people's lives by being in it. And I've certainly made your life worse. And I'm just better off dead because I am a selfish fucking loser. I'll shut up now.

#personal #conversations #am I in the wrong???#my perception of reality is very bad #I wish I could tell easily when im being irrational #but i feel like im also just being belittled and treated poorly in her responses too #i am toxic #bad friends #idk ... man #there is a lot i want to say to certain points I might edit and respond with my thoughts now that I am no longer intoxicated #long post

0 notes