#it’s not even like anxiety or depression symptoms I just feel like a walking mental illness

[rabbitindisguise]

What if you were trying to sleep in but your mood disorder was like

*:ﾟ✧*:･ﾟNoﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧

[hagfishgirlslime]

Hi, I’m an autistic trans girl living in an incredibly unhealthy household. I’m struggling with debilitating depression, anxiety, and other serious mental health issues too personal to list here. These symptoms have been unbearable for the past few months. Nobody in this household cares for my health. I haven’t even been able to get a ride to the doctor for any of my health problems (walking isn’t an option either, I would risk collapsing).

I can’t keep staying in this environment. I genuinely do not think I can go on here, and each week often feels like the last I’ll be able to endure. My only option, aside from facing homelessness, is to move across the country to live with my girlfriend and her family, but we’re both completely broke. I am not physically capable of working and have no other way of getting the money for this.

We’re still trying to figure out exactly how this is going to work, but we’re going to need to cover the price of a plane ticket, a few cabs to get me to the airport and the post office, shipping fees to send my belongings to my gf’s house, a backpack to carry things with me on the flight, and food to last me until the move. And there’ll probably end up being more than that as complications arise. Altogether, it’ll probably end up being a few hundred dollars.

I really, really hate the idea of asking for help like this, but I genuinely have no other options. I just have to get out as soon as I can.

Any amount helps, and I really appreciate every little bit that gets sent. If you can’t help out, please reblog and spread the word so more people can see it! Please don’t stretch yourself too thin.

C@$happ: $marbledcrayfish

My girlfriend’s P*ypal: carmenifold (if CA doesn’t work. goes directly to my move)

[sutherkins]

peter sutherland x neurodivergent!reader 💌

this is very self indulgent lmao. i tried to keep the mental stuff vague so you can hopefully imagine any mental illness in place of stuff besides the reader clearly having adhd because i have adhd. i hope anyone who reads this is able to relate and feel understood and comforted <3

warnings: mention of recreational drug use, reader is in between ages of 21-25 (i’m 23, so)

it’s not like you were opposed to telling peter about your medication. if he asked, you wouldn’t lie. you just didn’t want to be the first to bring it up. you knew you shouldn’t be ashamed of having to be on medication, and you knew he would never judge you, but you couldn’t help it.

that lasted for a couple months. your meds wore off around four or five in the afternoon and because of this, a lot of the time you got to spend with peter before he had to go to work was spent holding yourself back and trying to keep your symptoms closed off in an area he couldn’t see.

but now there was a problem. peter was somehow able to manage a couple weeks of vacation time in order to spend more time with you, real time he had always called it. he hated only getting to spend a couple hours with you each day just as much as you did, which was why he asked you to stay with him at a cabin he owned during his time away from work.

you said yes, of course. you figured he’d eventually find out during the trip, so you tried to relax at the thought of the conversation at the very least happening in a comforting environment. you’d just finished packing your bags when peter walked down the hallway of his apartment complex to your door and knocked. you smiled, you’d given him a key already so he didn’t need to knock, he came over all the time anyway. you liked that he did it anyways, always respectful of your privacy and space.

“you ready?” peter asked while grabbing your bags and walking them down to his car.

you nodded excitedly and hopped into the passenger seat, the car already full with snacks for the drive and your favorite music playing on the radio.

the two of you sat in comfortable silence until your meds started to kick in, kicking your energy into high gear and making it practically impossible for you to keep your mouth shut. you were worried he would start to get annoyed by so much chitchat but he didn’t seem to mind, intently listening to everything you had to say and responding when needed. he even laughed a couple times which was a victory in your book.

you arrived at the cabin soon after, beaming at the cabin and then at peter. “sorry for talking so much. i didn’t annoy you, did i?”

“of course not, pretty girl. it’s just your meds kicking in. nothing wrong with that. besides, i love listening to you.” he quickly grabbed the bags from his trunk and started leading you to the front door.

once you got inside you tilted your head, peter setting the bags down on the floor. “wait, how did you know i take medication?”

“i’ve seen it in your bathroom cabinet. ‘take one every morning’.” he quotes the label that’s printed on the bottle. “it’s for adhd, right?”

your face scrunched, “well, yes. i never outright told you so i just assumed you didn’t know. you don’t mind?”

peter grabbed your hand and led you to the couch in the living room, silently telling you to get comfortable while he got a fire started. “why would i mind? there’s nothing wrong with it.”

“no, i know. i mean, i know you know that too. my brain just…likes to lie to me sometimes. im guessing this also means you saw the other meds i take, then?” sighing, you squeezed his hand in need of reassurance.

“yeah. and just to repeat myself, there’s still nothing wrong with you or taking medication. whether it’s for adhd, anxiety, depression, insomnia… anything really. it doesn’t change the way i see you and it never has.” peter squeezed your hand in response, leaning over to kiss your cheek.

cheeks quickly turning red, you groaned and leaned your head onto his shoulder, hiding your face behind your hands.

he was having none of it, moving your hands and replacing them with his own, cupping your cheeks. “hey, hey, hey…none of that. you don’t need to hide with me.”

“i know, i know. i just need reminding sometimes.” smiling softly, you gazed at his loving expression, his thumb gently rubbing back and forth on your skin.

“i’m happy to do it.” moments pass before you hear peters voice again, now wavering from trying not to laugh. “im happy to try some of those edibles you have too. i saw you packed ‘em in your bag. did you really think i wouldn’t notice you getting high?”

“peter!” you poked his side until he fell backwards laying on the couch, your legs straddling his hips. “it’s for my anxiety. and for fun.” his hands immediately shift to rest on your waist, grinning up at you. “i think i’m a bad influence on you.”

he snorts. “oh, definitely. i kinda like it though.”

[dangerously-human]

The thing about this week's primary doctor appointment is I did walk out with almost everything I asked for - a referral for sleep testing, an appointment for blood work to get back on my existing meds, a suggestion for a nutritionist to meet with as a first step to sorting out my recurrent weight issues (I do not trust that field and the likelihood that I'll go is pretty low, but we'll see), even a script for Strattera... but based on the doctor's reticence and tbh kind of nastiness around the Strattera, I don't know if I should actually take it. The thing is that nothing in this world scares me worse than a depression relapse. I can do minor ones, I do those all the time in fact, but the idea of that as a med side effect scares the shit out of me, because now we're putting me back in the place I was when I was on antidepressants, you feel? And I'm very very scared of the effects of going off of mental health meds - knowing that I usually can't stay on anything consistently - having done my fair share of suicidal spins in college accidentally going off SSRIs cold turkey. And then when I tried to express that and ask what I should do to keep an eye out for it, and she said I should just be able to tell if my mood gets bad and I said well listen, I know I have a history with anxiety and depression and being autistic, I don't always notice a change right away, for her to then say, you have to be in therapy again, and you should probably go back on Lexapro, and probably your symptoms are just depression and I shouldn't even be giving you Strattera in the first place, that's when I really melted down. So you can understand where I might be a tinge concerned about taking this. Even though I actually think it will make my life a lot more manageable, on multiple fronts. Even though I'm old enough that the risk of depression as a side effect isn't so high anymore, and in fact this medicine works as a low-level antidepressant anyway. Even though I've gotten much better at staying on meds where there will be an immediate impact to quitting - I haven't had any issues with propranalol, for instance, just the ones that need blood work. And I guess, even though I'm scared, I'm also really excited by the prospect of being able to focus again in a way I haven't had for 10+ years, and maybe even keeping up with life outside of work and school. If I treat the ADHD, theoretically it would become much easier for me to stay on top of all my meds anyway. My mom suggested that I make an appointment with my old therapist to ask for her advice, and she also thought I should get back on thyroid meds first to see how that helps my attention - but the executives were dysfunctioning even before I went off that, and also it'll take a couple months for the Strattera to kick in, which would be minimally helpful for grad school purposes if I don't start now. So, where does that leave me? Idk, honestly. I guess the first step is just to pick up all my pills from the pharmacy, and then I think and pray about whether and when to take them. I wish I had a doctor I trusted enough that this didn't feel like a big decision.

[fandomfluffandfuck]

Personally, as a dom, I've never experienced what I would consider a full-blown drop. I've had some close calls, but my (unfortunately) extensive experience with depression and other mental health problems has enabled me to be on top of knowing the symptoms of drop. I recognize them, and I can usually take care of myself if I don't still have access to the partner that I had a scene with.

So, if you're looking for something where I incorporate lots and lots of own experience into a fictional scenario in the same way that I did with this post concerning what it feels like to get hard (which, if I'm assuming correctly, was something you would've been interested in based on your wording here, lol) that isn't what this is.

BUT

I certainly have ideas for Chris experiencing it, and I couldn't get them out of my head. Even if I'm not currently taking writing prompts

Chris doesn't even notice there's anything going on with him until Sebastian calls him. Okay, well, truthfully, he doesn't let himself notice that's there's anything going on until Seb goes full decective on him. Then, his boyfriend pulls the emotions up in a big tangled ball from deep in his chest, somewhere behind his lungs and heart, through his mouth. Bringing them to his attention, better than letting them fester, but still painful.

"Chris?" Sebastian speaks first, voice just a touch tinny over the phone.

"Hey, babe," Chris mumbles. He's tired. It's the middle of the day in Massachusetts. He's on vacation. He didn't stay up last night. He has no idea why he's tired or why his back hurts.

"Hi!" Seb shakes him from his thoughts.

"...did you call for somethin'?" Chris replies, licking his lips, when Sebastian says nothing else, "it's, what, 12 there? Shouldn't you be in bed? What time is call in the mornin'?"

"Don't worry about it," Sebastian tells him, his voice smooth and easy, "I called 'cause I miss you."

Chris wants to huff and roll his eyes, but it won't come out. Instead, he weakly offers, "it's been three days?" Has it been three? Already?

"What, I'm not allowed to miss you yet?" Sebastian teases lightly.

Chris shrugs, forgetting that Sebastian can't see him. Dodger plops his head into his lap with a doggy sigh. It feels like he misses Sebastian, too.

"Besides," Sebastian's voice is softer now, "you've barely texted."

A big, fat question mark hangs over his head suddenly, "huh?"

"You haven't texted me. I mean, you have. You text back, but I've been texting you first."

"Oh?" Chris hasn't really... is he doing that? He hasn't meant to!

"Mmm-hmm, I'm missing all my Dodger-and-boyfriend selfies. Usually, I get at least one every day. Or if it's not both of my boys, it's just Dodger, or a tree or flower or the sky or your breakfast or something."

"Oh," Chris feels bad. There's a knot in his chest, and it's tightening. Has he been ignoring him? He's been... what has he been doing? He's been scrolling. He kept sitting down to read and not being able to focus. So, he gets his phone out instead and... disappears into it until Dodger noses him for walks or dinner or it's time to sleep, and he lays down and thinks about Sebastian and gets stuck in anxiety spirals. Not because of Seb but. Adjacent?

"Then when you do text back, I dunno," Chris can practically hear him scratching his head, "you respond to what I'm saying, but it's not... not the same," Sebastian finishes lamely.

"I'm sorry, baby," Chris says with his whole chest. He is. There's guilt knawing at him now. He's been absent. He doesn't--didn't mean to.

"It's okay, I just want to know what's up. Are you okay?"

Chris swallows.

Is he okay?

He thought, he doesn't know, but he thought he was having a good old anxiety spiral, missing Sebastian after his recent departure, and that ache for his boyfriend had just dug up some older wounds about not being enough. And thinking about not being enough came with friends. Unwanted friends. Friends that add to not being enough by telling him, actually, he's kind of disgusting. How can he control Sebastian like he does? If he loves him, how can he do such things to him? He's too extreme, isn't he? He's too controlling, isn't he? Is he even a good man at all? Why is he like that? Why does he want the things he wants? He shouldn't want them. Does Sebastian like it? Does Sebastian even like being dominated? Is he just taking advantage?

"Chris, honey?" Sebastian's voice sounds like honey. Sweet and smooth.

"Yeah?" Chris rasps, voice hoarse despite how Seb has been doing the bulk of the talking.

"Are you okay?"

"I--" Chris has a false start. He doesn't know what to say, or how to end that thought.

Now he's thinking about the last time he saw Sebastian. Before he left for the airport. They couldn't help themselves, transitioning from innocent to R-rated goodbyes. However, Chris did put his foot down, gently, over one thing; they couldn't have too intense of a scene when they were already running the risk of making Seb miss his flight. Chris would feel awful if they didn't have enough time for at least a little aftercare. If he floated too high, scene-ing too hard, Chris didn't want him dropping on the plane ride. The moment they had was satisfying regardless, with Sebastian on his knees and--

Chris misses that.

He misses Sebastian.

He misses the clarity of being with Sebastian. Touching him. Feeling him. Breathing him in.

So. He's thinking of what happened right before he left. He's thinking about what it's like to share a scene with Sebastian, not a scene on a film set, (although any of those scenes are magic), too. Because it's Sebastian. He's a fucking world class actor and a world class submissive. Of course, acting opposite of him is incredible. Of course, dominating him is incredible. Clarity and peace and focus. His submissive. Collaring. Protecting. Caring. Providing. Strength for his submissive but weakness, too.

An insatiable urge for him.

Only him.

Sebastian.

He would do anything for his submissive.

His partner.

"I don't know," Chris finally murmurs his answer.

Sebastian hums, "alright."

"Alright?" Is... is he supposed to add something here? He doesn't know what to say.

"Yeah, that's okay. It's alright. However you are, whatever it is, I want to know about it. Even if you don't know, y'know?"

A lightning strike of feeling strikes through Chris' chest. Raw and breaking. He tries to swallow around the weight piling up at the back of his throat, but all he ends up doing is choking for a moment.

Palms clammy, eventually, Chris manages, "h-how's the set?" he's clinging to his boyfriend's voice.

Sebastian rattles off one detail in answer, then another and another and another when Chris just keeps asking questions. Questions that pour over his lips and don't always make a ton of sense. That doesn't even matter. Why is he asking that? Chris can feel his battery, his energy, depleting--draining down to nothing, and yet his mouth is running a mile a minute. His thoughts are dragging on, slogging awkward and slow through mud, but his questions only keep coming. Paradoxical.

How are you? Are you okay? You're not too cold, right? It's winter there, isn't it? Are you having a good time with the cast? Do you like them? They better like you, do they even realize how fucking great you are? Are you eating? Are you sleeping? Do you miss me? Do you miss fu--

Chris is in the middle of his spiral, wanting, desperately to know everything that's going on in Sebastian's head when, suddenly, Sebastian says his name. He doesn't yell. Just the opposite, he whispers it.

Chris hears it.

Chris hears, more than feels, his mouth snap shut.

"Chris, baby, if you want to fly out and come see me, you can just say it."

"No, I don't. I," his voice comes out small, nothing like the rambling, louder, and louder mess he was just making, "I, I..." There's a heavy rock in his throat that he has to swallow dry and scraping, then, "y-yeah. Can I? You're not too busy?"

"'M never too busy," he reassures him.

Chris makes an aching sort of sound. Wounded. He can't help it. He knows that, and he's stupid for thinking otherwise, but he just... hearing it is good. He wants to curl up in those words, he wants to curl himself into a ball and bundle up in Sebastian's side and have him stroke his back. He's so tired. He misses him so much.

It's only been a few days.

At the same time that he misses him so fucking bad and he wants to be embraced and held, he missing him so fucking bad and he wants to take care of him like he should. But also like he shouldn't. Sebastian is grown. He can care for himself, and he doesn't need Chris to impose, bleeding his controlling longing all over him. Chris has always needed to be needed.

"That sound good, baby?" Sebastian asks once they have the details in place, when and where.

Chris nods. He forgets, again, that his boyfriend can't see him. Running in ceaseless circles. But Sebastian, magic, understands nevertheless.

Then, Seb signs off, letting him go with reassuring reminders to sleep and eat and take care of himself. He'll text him later, once they've both gotten some sleep.

In a few days time, the only way Chris can drag himself out of bed--one limb at a time, peeling the sheets back, and struggling his way into sweats, dropping Dodger off at his Ma's house--and make it to the airport is by knowing that all that stands between him and Sebastian is a few hours. He just has to make it through the plane ride.

A plane ride that he mostly sleeps through, despite having just crashed all night.

When Chris finally, finally fucking lands, he's moping through baggage claim and the, just, whole fucking airport with his baseball cap tugged low and his sunglasses, the largest, darkest pair he owns, hoping no one recognizes him and deeply wishing that he insisted on having Sebastian meet him at the airport. The passing thought entered his head but he was thinking less about himself and more about public appearances then. He's thinking more of himself now. And he wants Seb. So badly. He misses the way he smells and how he laughs and his eyes and--

He could've gotten a later flight that would've worked. Right? So Sebastian would be done filming for the day and he could've been here. Now?

Chris is vibrating out of his skin, fingers curled into fists around his backpack's straps and suitcase's handle. He can't wait to be alone with his boyfriend. He's closer to him now yet he just misses him more.

However, maybe it's a good thing that Seb isn't there. Because. The moment he is there... the paparazzi would have a field day.

The moment Seb lets himself into the rented apartment he's staying at for filming, the door isn't even closed! Yet, Chris is already collapsing into him.

His hands immediately land on his hips but they quickly wrap around his waist--wrapping him tightly, securely up in his arms while he buries his face in his neck. He's warm and he smells like coffee and sweat and Sebastian. Chris knows because he's pressing his nose as hard into the junction between his neck and shoulder and breathing him in as he can. He needs him. He's probably stretching Seb's shirt with how hard he's grabbing him, but he can't find it in himself to care--he'll pay costuming whatever they ask himself. His eyeslashes sweep shut. He already feels better. More centered. Steady. Like he's standing on two feet again, finding purchase on a softly carpeted floor of a familiar, warm home.

"Seb," Chris whispers into his skin like it's a prayer. He doesn't realize he's crying until he feels the wetness from his own eyes on Sebastian's body. He clings harder.

Sebastian squeezes him back, whispering too, "hi, baby."

They stand, hugging--cuddling, really, in the entryway for enough time that Chris' silent tears turn into sniffles and dry eyes. The feeling of Sebastian's heat against him echoes through his bones. He relishes in it. He doesn't stop clinging, though. He can't. All he can do is hold him and breath. Hold him and breathe as Seb heards him over toward the living room, bringing him with him and settling their bodies together on the couch, legs and fingers tangled, Chris on top of him, blanketing him.

Their hearts were racing, exilerated by the chance to be close enough to touch once more--in the same timezone--but now they slow. Steady and deep, chest to chest. Pumping blood and love through their veins, dissolving into their muscles. Lying lump and heavy, slumped into each other.

Chris tries hard to breathe out every drop of tension in his body under the soothing swirls of Sebastian's palms over his shoulders and back. It isn't hard to relax like this, when he's here, but the last dregs of emotion are especially deep seated, heavy, and hard to drain away. He shivers.

"Cold?" Sebastian asks.

Chris shakes his head. No.

Never.

Seb knows exactly what he wants. Seb knows what he needs. Seb knows what he feels somehow, even though Chris feels like a walking, unidentified swirl of anxiety. Seb knows what he wants to hear. Chris doesn't have to say a damn thing, Seb is just in his head, answering every silent question--rattling on in a soothing tone, I missed you so much. I miss everything that we do. I miss kissing you. I miss touching you. I miss sleeping next to you. I miss the things you do to me. I miss the things you make me feel. I love you.

They fall asleep.

Then, when they're awake again, late into the evening, and they've peeled themselves apart just enough to stand hip to hip, waiting for water to boil, mugs poised to happily hold their tea and honey, steaming away--Sebastian is back in his head, wandering around his skull, sight-seeing.

"Hey," Seb finds something that takes his fancy--that ugly insecurity that he's not what Sebastian wants or that he takes too much, he controls too much. He sees and he tugs him close.

Chris smiles.

"Remember when we first got together--"

"Yeah?" He already feels lighter.

"We were just barely hooking up and I told you, you could go harder on me. Then, when you didn't get what I meant," his grin is sly, his sparkling eyes shifty, "I explained it to you, and you..." he chuckles conspiratorially, "didn't spank me that hard at all."

"Hey!" Chris laughs softly.

"And I had to talk you up to doing anything more than hitting me on the ass sometimes." Sebastian kisses him on the cheek, "now look at you! Now you regularly blow my mind with how kinky we get."

Chris opens his mouth to say something, he's already chuckling, but Seb is there--

"You give me more than I knew how to ask for. I like it. I love it. And I have more than a lifetime's worth of evidence that you do, too."

Chris sighs, swaying into him, "I love you."

"Love you, too."

"Thanks for getting me outta my head, Seb."

"Anytime."

[samuwhal]

We need to change how we talk about self-help techniques.

By self-help techniques, I’m talking about: grounding, mindfulness, meditation, breathing exercises, physical activity, and--the big one--yoga. I have struggled with my mental health since I was fifteen, and just now, I am realizing how much these things can actually help. I am almost twenty-six years old, and I will have been in therapy for ten years this fall. Let me tell you, I have spent so much of that time renouncing these tools. Recently, though I’ve realized that: holy shit, they can really work...but man they are offered to struggling people in the worst possible light.

TL;DR: Just because suggestions about ways to manage mental illness are framed as “you have to try it or you want to be sick” doesn’t mean that they can’t actually work or that you are invalidating yourself by trying or being helped by them. Featuring personal anecdotes and a boat metaphor.

I know I am not alone in that the idea of these techniques and exercises just made my skin crawl. They made me feel vulnerable in a way which really scared me, they felt impossible to initiate in the moments needed most, and--ultimately--they felt incredibly diminutive. Think about it: people getting sucked into rapids will drown cursing your name if all you do is insist they have to “ride the wave.” “Fuck you.”

When I began taking anti-depressants, it was not without a fight. I’m lucky; my parents were willing and able to put me in therapy as soon as I asked. But with medication, they were concerned it was a shortcut, that I would be on pills for the rest of my life, and that the chemicals would change me and do “the work” for me, as if this was an issue of character development and not brain malfunction. Why wouldn’t I just do something relaxing when I was upset? Why wasn’t I leaning more into my spirituality? Why wasn’t I letting anything else help me?

And that’s the problem! I tried to explain that I would be able to use those techniques easier if medication brought my overall symptoms down. You wouldn’t expect me to paddle upstream against a tsunami, but I could feasibly make progress against a strong current. Even at that point, if I go over rapids, I want a fucking life jacket, not somebody with their feet firmly planted on the riverbank shouting, “Try yoga!” Though I of course continued therapy in addition to medicine, I still resisted any advice having to do with self-help because of that sentiment.

To be clear, I’m still very pro-medication and for eliminating that stigma. Really, though, when somebody is having such debilitating symptoms--emotions--that they feel like they are getting pulled underwater and gasping for air, it’s not fair that the solution could be something as effortless as breathing in while counting until it’s better. That sounds like bullshit. Mental illness physically hurts, but to outsiders, it’s all in your head, and it would be fine if only you could step back and appreciate how good you have it. If “mindfulness” works, then maybe those people are right, and that can’t be true. It hurts too much to be true.

However, I want you to know that your struggles won’t be any less legitimate if something simple actually does end up helping. I have two stories here:

1. Last year, after wanting to start for ages, I finally began exercising: just going to the gym a couple of times a week. My goal was only to feel better in my body, not really to do anything for myself mentally. I even hired a personal trainer to write work-out routines for me to follow, both to hold myself accountable (I won’t skip if I’m paying someone) and just so I wouldn’t be totally lost the second I walked in. But I have felt so many unexpected mental benefits, as well:

Getting my heart rate and breathing elevated--and continuing to exert myself through it--has kept me steadier when anxiety starts to set in. I feel more confident knowing that I can lift heavy things, run distances, and because I did something productive. I’m not stress or bored-eating, not necessarily because I’m afraid I’ll “put the calories back,” but because I’m simply more regulated. I have been sleeping better since pushing my muscles has reduced my lower back pain. I don’t procrastinate showering if I’ve just gotten back from the gym. When I sit down to schoolwork, I focus easier if I had exercised. Something something endorphins. I know I’m starting to sound like a “bro,” but the point is that these are huge benefits to exercising that just don’t get mentioned by the people crudely suggesting that it will fix your depression.

2. A couple of months ago, I was having a bad night, and the “don’t believe any negative thoughts about yourself after 10 p.m.” rule had gone out the window. I did what many of us have taught ourselves to do and asked for a lifeline: I texted my girlfriend in the same room (because vocalizing it was too hard) asking if she would come over to sit with me. I didn’t even realize I was having an anxiety attack, but she did. At first, I felt too frozen and in-pain when she asked me to sit up from clutching the fetal position. Instrumentally, though, she said that she wanted to help, but I had to help myself, too. She was throwing me a ring, but I had to swim and meet her halfway. I sat up.

She held me and led me through a “find five things in the room” exercise, and fuck me: it helped. No, I wasn’t cured. I’m still not. But this broke my self-destructive loop, and I was able to go to sleep relaxed. This was an epiphany for me. I could have provided myself this tool, this comfort, the entire ten years I’ve been dealing with this shit! Instead, I’ve just been enduring it, hoping against everything pulling me down that--instead of drowning--I’ll eventually kick the riverbed where it’s shallow enough to stand.

When self-help techniques are offered to mentally ill people, they tend to be used as a “gotcha:” you could easily be better, if only you wanted to try. To be completely fair, this isn’t always the meaning. However, it only takes a couple of those microaggressions to ensure you shut down when your therapist or a concerned loved one asks if you've tried "grounding” before.

Please, take it from me: these tools aren’t just leaky arm floats that people who never even needed to learn how to swim offer just to feel better as they watch you struggle. They are a life jacket to keep you afloat when you tip, a wider paddle to outrun the rapids, a better rudder and tiller so you can actually steer, a bailing bucket for when things get dicey, or pontoons so you won’t tip so readily. Trying self-help techniques doesn’t disclaim what you’re going through, they just might make it more bearable.

And you’re worth that.

[url0n3lystarr]

standing on the borderline

Nowadays I scrub myself clean of anything representing a stereotypical mentally ill person. No more will people say I remind them of Harley Quinn or Ramona Flowers, no more will I meet their sexualised expectation of a mentally ill woman. 

I’m dying my hair back, thinking carefully about the tattoos I want, I don’t fall asleep at 3am with some depressing playlist, and I’m finally selling all my lifeless clothes at the Sunday market. I no longer identify with that. I’m not proud of it, I wasn’t happy, it wasn’t me. 

I’m not insulted that I dress “basic” now, I’m not insulted I no longer meet your expectations of me. I traded my chains and fishnets for basic tees, and I feel better now.

As I reach for that abrasive loofah, I do contemplate why I can’t accept who I was when I was deep in the trenches, begging everyone to believe that it was a stranger, begging myself to believe that was never me. I’m not my illness, that’s not who I am, but as someone who has walked in my own shoes, shouldn’t I be a little more understanding of the roads I’ve travelled?

Too often I’m sitting on the fence between accepting myself and being okay with it or tearing any resemblance of mental illness and keeping it as far away as possible. How can I be okay with this, do you know what people say about me? 

Sometimes I feel like I must carry the agonising burden of being a spokesperson for BPD, those three words come up in a conversation and I feel eyes pierce me like they know a big secret I’m hiding. The desperate need to say something to disprove of borderline symptoms is haunting, cursed with the fear that people think I want this and I’m so quirky. Screw you TikTok.

Even the few positive attributes this illness gifts me is something I wish I could get a shovel and weed out of my garden. Everything feels like a double-edged sword, everything is a double-edged sword. A sweet sensitivity that snowballs into debilitating anxiety, compassion, and loyalty like a dog, and will never be reciprocated in any relationship. It is not fun fighting everyone else’s wars yet never being able to stand next to your own army.

Shame is unfortunately ingrained in me, one Google search and there’s more results on BPD being toxic manipulators than there are helpful resources. I walk around with a scarlet letter, people stop and stare knowing I’m a horrible, toxic gaslighter. Constantly scared that those around me walk on my field of landmines, running a never-ending marathon questioning, ‘what if I am the stereotype?’ It’s getting quite lonely locked away with a moat of eggshells and glass shards. 

Perhaps this is a perspective that changes with the years, right now detachment feels like a home, maybe I’ll keep dancing with these ideas. I am not borderline; I am not a borderline. No one says I am a thyroid problem, or I am a cold. The less I dwell on stereotypes and playing the painful losing game of trying to change people’s beliefs, the easier it is to cope. Maybe at the core of wanting to appear so extremely unwell is just simply wanting someone to care, not to be immediately seen like a monster. 

[poketwt]

pls tell more about ur emotional support absol??

of course! my absol, Cassie, has been trained to detect and treat symptoms of anxiety, depression, triggers, and mood swings from BPD. she alerts me of when im starting to spiral as well as helping me keep up routines.

i was recommended to look into an emotional support pokemon after finishing an outpatient program for my mental health. there are a few other options of pokemon the program offers based off different needs, and an absol seemed like my best fit.

Cassie and i are using our platform here to help end the stigma around mental health and the stigma around absols. she is not dangerous, she does not cause any of the problems she predicts, absols need just as much love as any other pokemon companion does. though i will admit, as a pretty small person who is scared of people, walking around with a very intimidating looking pokemon does make me feel safer (even though Cassie isnt trained to fight).

im happy to answer anymore questions about her and/or what we do

[astriiformes]

I've gone back and forth on whether or not i have true spring/summer SAD of if I just dislike the seasons because of health issues made worse by heat and dysphoria and etc, but yesterday I was walking to an evening class and on noticing it was light out at 6pm suddenly became, like, genuinely suicidal at the thought that it's only going to get worse from here, so I think. The shoe probably fits.

And that would be bad enough on its own, I've already been struggling so much with depression even during my favored months, so the last thing I need is something making it worse, but the part I found myself losing more sleep over last night was that spring/summer SAD is just so... lonely. And worse than that, I feel like it isn't respected at all. Like, I have friends I otherwise consider great on mental health issues, including mine, many of whom have fall/winter SAD themselves, who I will mention my own SAD symptoms to and who will respond with "Wow, you're so weird!" instead of the sympathy I'm looking for from fellow seasonal depression sufferers. I try to be considerate of their own issues in the winter, even though it's my preferred season, but because my version is the less common one, suddenly it's a joke?

I didn't even know until today that spring/summer SAD has slightly different symptoms that align with my experience a lot (increased anxiety along with the depressive symptoms, insomnia instead of oversleeping, poor appetite instead of overeating), because nobody talks about it. And I don't know of any helpful things to try like sun lamps or Vitamin D supplements for fall/winter SAD sufferers, because either there aren't any, or nobody's bothered to research it.

I don't know. I know I can get overly grumpy about this and I try to reign it in because I know the winter is really genuinely hard for so many people, especially living somewhere as cold and dark and far north as Minnesota. But all that really is good for me, and I really do wish I didn't have to battle loneliness and guilt and feeling "wired wrong" along with worse depressive symptoms every year when spring and summer roll around.

I'm not making a joke when I say thinking about three more months of the days getting longer made me contemplate jumping off a bridge for a split second last night, and just because my mental illness is the less common kind doesn't mean I'm just "weird" -- it's still a mental illness. And I think it would help me manage it, or at least feel a little less lonely, if people would actually treat it like one, instead of just a personality quirk.

[zzencat]

Thank you for your effort 🙏 please take care of yourself.

Before I ask my tarot related question , I have another question. I'm an INTP too. As a very rational person, how do approach intuition & channeling?

my tarot related question: how I would know he is my FS? How would I recognise them ?

[ You can tell if anything explicit comes up, I'm a full grown adult]

these are good questions AB! a fellow intp yeaaaaa!!! but i do have to warn you to get ready for some reading:

advice on intuition + channeling

AB!! you’re basically already done with what you need to do! you’ve there’s not much to do anymore- it’s really all in your hands now! cards are saying you can literally start whenever you want! it’s normal to be anxious about it or overthink it. walk into it and be ready to learn. the answer is right in front of you :)

make sure to rest yourself and your mind. be aware of your surroundings and take them in as they are, at its core—at its most fundamental properties. also, if you do some meditation, great! if you don’t, this could help quiet your mind and boost your awareness for better receiving of messages. also when it comes to channeling messages. usually whatever comes to mind is your channeled message, and even more so if you can’t keep your mind off of it. even if it doesn’t make sense, let it come through.

now intuition, is all about trusting your gut. it’s the feeling that you get first off the bat, for example, when you feel something is off. it can be all over the place and then you lose your sense of trust in it, but the key is to trust it. that feeling that’s just lingering and warning you. how can you distinguish between your intuition and a talkative mind? find a quiet space, close your eyes, breathe, and enter into a state of total calmness (the environment is customized to your own liking but it should bring you to peace and a “mental middle ground”, a place that completely calms your anxiety. rmr to keep breathing also!! 😅) doing this brings you back to rational thinking, an open and accepting mind, free from biased thinking. once youre calm, you should be able to decipher what your intuition is trying to tell you, even if it takes a bit. your intuition can freak out a bit but it bounces back. also!! intps like us already do cartwheels of abstract thinking throughout the day, and intuition works well with the abstract world and theories, so you should be ok from here!

also whatever stagnancy you may have faced before deciding to take this on was a period of preparation—a spiritual shift of some sort. so yeah! just…onwards! you’re more ready than you think- the ball’s waiting in your court.

future spouse dynamics, characteristics, + some sexual stuff

your future spouse is probably not aligned with his higher self’s emotions. the cards suggest he seems to have dealt with trauma, possibly from family, probably due to high expectations and low emotional support. they seem to be joyful and prosperous, but he deals with a broken heart and is often sad or deal with depressive symptoms. this person is more action oriented, but might be timid in sharing thoughts, ideas, or the next step due to doubt. he could use some work on his intuition. i don’t think he’s the best at expressing himself verbally so your energies could be imbalanced there. they’re rebellious and probably have the tendency to be impulsive, retract again, and then come out when comfortable again. the cycle repeats. this person gets confident and then unconfident. up and down moods and cycles. the job they’re in now or at the time of your relationship will earn plenty, but he needs to watch where those spendings go and how he conducts work. he’ll need to work out a lot of mental and emotional issues before and during your relationship (bro needs to seek out therapy for example), or this could lead him down a not-so-great financial path or huge losses materially. he might spend a lot on you as well, probably to overcompensate, bc what he’s learned growing up is money = love. there will be many times where he acts cold. there’s a huge chance that your relationship with him will help him improve and see things differently. instead of being indecisive, he’ll be more confident with his direction in life and what he wants to pursue. i also recommend slowing down and building the relationship off properly, not rushing. it would also help to open him up slowly and have frequent understanding and conversations. this dude is kind of a tough nut to crack (major understatement).

for sexual messages, you have to soothe this guy into having sex. this dude isn’t so great at love and seems pretty lethargic so you’ll have to coax it out. this could mean make-up sex or sex after having a discussion or argument. after you’ve resolved things, that would be an ideal moment to have sex and make it up to each other. there’s such a huge imbalance of energies, trying to get one or the other to do something that would be beneficial to their health and wellbeing, but the other is being so stubborn about it for no reason. i think a lot of your fights or misunderstandings are around behavioral issues, and not on your side, AB, but more on his. the dude could use some vitamin D too so some sex under the sun would be nice, some sun shining through the window. your balance and fairness turns him on a fair amount- also your hair too. the dude craves comfort. that’s what gets him the most. maybe some food and drinks as well, but incorporated a bit later!

thank you for waiting and for sending your ask in!! best of luck 😸👍

[lunasuccor]

I hate to keep posting about this but my situation hasn’t improved, and for the people in my life who care about me I’m trying my best to hang in there but to keep surviving I still need help u.u

In the past couple months I’ve rapidly developed worsening symptoms of an autoimmune disease which basically means I suffer chronic pain daily that is at best hindered a bit by things like advil. I have an appointment to see my doctor on the 22nd where I’m hoping he can give me more answers and help give me the means to start getting finanial assistence for my disability. Last week I finally had to walk out on my job for my own physical and mental wellbeing and although i have a side job watching the door at a local bar I don’t start till this weekend and it will not be enough to support both me and my cat Jynx. I’ve only survived thus far by the kindness of my friends and some family and been able to eat thanks to my connections to a food pantry I worked at previously.

There are some days i can’t even get out of bed yet I’m trying to remain positive in the wake of my terrible misfortune over the past year that has led me to this point. Some days i do think it would be best to give up but i know that i can’t because theres people that care about me and still so much i’d like to do with my life - most importantly I’d like to be able to cheer up and entertain those in the LGBTQIA+ community and also those with mental illness like myself. It’s not exactly an earth-shattering goal i know, but being in this situation has made me appreciate all the friends/streamers/strangers who provide small acts of kindness everyday that mean the world to others they have an effect on.

As I’ve said in previous posts, asking for help like this is something I’ve never wanted to do, I’ve outright told friends that I’d rather die than have to be burden on anyone. But the truth is I want to live, for me, for my loved ones, for anyone in the future I may be able to make smile or forget about their problems even for a moment.

Apologies for rambling, I’ll try to get to the point, thank you for reading if you’ve made it this far though ;-;

Part of being in such a bad financial state has been me putting off purchasing some of my medications including my Anti-Anxiety/Depression meds(Sertraline), Allergy meds(any generic zyrtec), and Pain relievers(advil). Because I’m so lucky my seasonal allergies just kicked in today and have had me extra sore just from the sneezing. So anything anyone can spare to donate even just $1 will be going toward those medications, cat food, or food/essentials to help me survive and make it through this. I’m so so grateful for the donations I’ve already received and i don’t want anyone making things harder on themselves for me - but if you read this and have the money to spare i would really appreciate it!!

If you don’t want to or can’t donate every reblog helps me out as well!

Also if you don’t want to donate for nothing I have a fair amount of Yu-gi-oh Cards, Video Games, and Bionicles I’d be willing to part with in exchange so feel free to messege me or send me an ask if you’re interested!

As always thank you all so much for your time and support 💙💙💙

[cordeliatheodoro]

Things I learned over my 5 years as a chronically ill person:

Obs: I have some kind of illness that's similar to Chron's disease, but like, not as bad. It still impacts my life in more ways than I ever expected, including fucking up my liver and mental health. Anyway;

Eating the "wrong" thing is better than not eating - when you have an illness that affects your appetite, the best course of action, in my experience, is to eat what you feel like eating. If that means having a jar of cookies for lunch, it's completely fine. Eat what you know your body will accept, because that's better than not eating anything or having your body reject what you eat.

Body fat = healthy - this is specific to my case, but I was just skin and bones before getting the right treatment. Even if I might feel bad because beauty standarts, getting enough weight and body fat to the point I became a midsized person (after years of being a walking skeleton) is something that should be celebrated. It means I'm eating enough and my body is becoming healthier.

You gain a hell of a pain tolerance - remember how I said my liver is fucked up? It means whenever I take painkillers, my stomach becomes a rebelious teen and tries to kill me. A.K.A, nausea, and actually throwing up if the medicine is too strong. I've learned to endure pain in order to not need painkillers, or to only take them if it becomes too much.

Kiss many adult experiences goodbye - Taking more than two sips of alcohol is a no-no, and don't even thing about drugs. I'm always the sober friend, which is not bad per se, but I would like it more if it was a choice.

You will be known as the sick friend (if you're the only one in the group) - I got sick at 12/13 and only got treatment for it at 16, so high school was HellTM. Get used to people asking if you're feeling alright everytime time your face moves two milimiters, and to cancel plans because you're sick. It also makes flirting with your crush harder, because they might see you as fragile (seems like people don't find you sexy if they know you have intestine problems).

Antidepressants are not exclusive for people with depression - Did you know the intestines are considered the second brain? Anyway, I was prescribed antidepressants (that also work as anxiety medication) to help with my chronic illness, and honestly, it kinda works.

Hope is good but don't hope too much - sounds depressing, but at least in my case, seems to be true. Things get better, and with the right treatment, you'll have a good life and achieve yours dreams, and overcome many, many symptoms and difficulties. And I really don't like thinking about it, but I know that this is probably my case, and it's a fact: I will never be 100% healthy again. Not like how I was before.

You won't have all the answers you want - I have an illness that's names, in my mother language, as "Indeterminate". It means doctors are not able to know how it developed, why it developed, if there's a cure, and how to treat it. The treatment I went through can only be described as "fuck around and find out". So yeah, sometimes you just have to accept there are no answers.

Anyway, this was depressing as shit, but I needed to get it off my system. To all my chronically ill siblings: hold on tight! We can do it!

[yantao-enthusiast]

hey y’all so i’ve been worried that i’m overreacting and questioning whether i should bring it up with my therapist because i’m starting to have suspicions about if i have chronic fatigue? but also i’m wondering if it’s just the depression or anxiety (i’ve been officially diagnosed with those) that’s been causing me to be so tired within the last few years? after talking it through with one of my best friends, i’m like is it just hormones? is it my horrible and inconsistent sleep schedule? is it just because i’m lazy?

so i’m just gonna put my symptoms into a post and see if anyone on tumblr has anything to say (not that it really counts as an official diagnosis or anything but it’d be nice to have some feedback from people who have chronic fatigue or are experienced in the field yk)

anyways so as stated earlier i’m like known for my horrible messed up sleep schedule. it’s never consistent though it’s been getting better recently imo! though when i wake up i’m still at least somewhat tired, like i have a dull headache, or before prozac, like my eyes were aching. it takes me hours to get out of bed unless i have something to do because even that feels like a chore. i can hardly bring myself to do things like eat even if i’m hungry or consistently shower or brush my teeth most days (to the point of my teeth rotting actually) let alone do chores (which lord knows my mother has complained about for like a decade).

i actually had to drop out of high school because i was just so tired and hardly felt motivated or had the energy to go to school which i had chalked up to depression. ever since middle school actually, i’ve been tardy and truant probably half the days, to the point where a social worker had to come and see me after a 30 day absence from school. and days when i did go to school, by the end of the day i was falling asleep on my backpack in the car line. and even now when i’m not even in school at the moment due to being afraid i won’t be able to handle the workload of college, i still get tired walking around a large grocery store or just in a long car ride. for probably over half my life i feel as if i’ve been disassociating and tired even after the 8 hour recommended rest.

also idk if this is relevant but light sensitivity was mentioned when i googled it but it feels like sunlight has always made me tired? like i always chalked it up to me being more nocturnal from associating daylight with stressors like school but i thought it might be relevant to mention idk.

oh and also it feels like my muscles are always cramped like if you crumpled up a piece of paper then tried to straighten it again and mostly in my back. like it doesn’t bother me too bad but it’s not exactly pleasant

i’m just worried because it feels like i’m trying everything to combat my depression and even now i don’t think it’s that bad rn so i genuinely don’t think it’s just me holding myself back mentally? i don’t know if i need stronger medication for my depression or if there’s something else like chronic fatigue happening but i thought i’d ask to see if anyone has any insight or advice on if it’s worth bringing up to my doctor or therapist ?

[cookinguptales]

just some me thoughts. up and down but mostly hopeful, I think. might delete later, who knows. I think writing these things down sometimes is productive for me, but leaving them up might not always be best. lmao

(cw: mental illness, discussion of suicidal ideation, etc.)

I have struggled with MDD for... most of my life, I'd say. I had "child-friendly" suicidal ideation when I was maybe 6-7 years old, where I'd imagine just kind of floating away in a bubble and never coming back, but it had graduated to full-fledged suicidal ideation by like. idk, maybe 9? I remember a school counselor asking me if I ever thought about wanting to die and I was like "well, no more than everyone else does" and she was like. hmm!

(I have since learned that was not the correct answer lmao)

I struggled a lot more when I got older and the symptoms of my chronic illnesses worsened, and there was a lot of abuse at home, too. There was also some... I guess I'll call it CSA when I was a teen, but I don't think those chickens came home to roost until I was about a year into my degree and I had ~a breakdown~.

what happened, honestly, was that I'd barely been able to juggle my mental illness and my physical illness when I was at home being driven everywhere, but once I moved out for college and started walking everywhere, I completely lost control over my chronic illnesses. and then when that happened, my mental illness quickly followed.

(plus I was put on birth control for the first time in this period (to deal with what we'd later learn was endometriosis) and that did NOT play well with my brain.)

I won't... get into all the details, but I was on medical leave for a couple years and the depression got pretty bad. Some of the responses to that mental illness poll I've seen feel totally unrelatable to my own experiences, which makes me feel... idk, I guess sometimes I tell myself it wasn't that severe. But then other times I hear people talk about their experiences with depression and I'm like "oh... maybe mine was pretty severe..."

Part of it is that my depression and my chronic exhaustion often kind of mingle. Back then, I'd be too tired to get out of bed, so I just wouldn't. For days. And then I might go a day or two without eating, and that would make the chronic illness worse, so by the end I'd really just kinda be sleeping and crying and Still Not Eating for a few days at a time. Maybe some crackers. I ate a lot of ramen and bed crackers.

In some respects, I think I was actually lucky...? I thought about dying constantly, but I was so exhausted that there was no way I was ever going to do anything, even that. My POTS was wildly uncared for at this point, so I'd just kind of slip in and out of consciousness sometimes. I got bedsores a few times.

I did eventually get back to school and I kind of got my head together, but it was definitely a struggle, made worse by my school's deeply ableist policies. I was a nervous wreck in college, if I'm being honest with myself. I cried a lot.

My PMDD ended up getting pretty severe, too. I had some very close calls. I struggled a lot with the hormonal medications I was put on to treat the PMDD and the endometriosis because often I'd do better for a while (once my periods stopped) but then I'd start bleeding nonstop or my brain would go bonkers or something. It felt like every hormonal medication I took was a ticking time bomb. It'd make me better before it then made me much, much worse. And there was really no way to predict when it would happen.

Honestly, after having suicidal ideation be the cosmic background radiation of my life for decades, anxiety was uh. I mean, I didn't enjoy it, but I always kind of felt like I was gonna throw up and pass out anyway, so really all it added was agoraphobia and some panic attacks. Anxiety was always pretty manageable for me compared to everything else. The depression was always more dangerous. I'd lose literal weeks that I wouldn't even remember later when the depression got bad. I would just kinda. Stop leaving my apartment. For weeks. Even months, a few times.

(There is a reason I get myself Little Treats a lot, and it's mostly because it's a way to force myself to leave my house regularly. lmao. It's... a bribe, let's be real. Like "you can go get that iced coffee as long as you go get it," that kind of situation.)

The reason I'm talking about this isn't so much to wallow, though... Actually, I think I've been doing a lot better the past couple years. Going to California during the summer has been helpful (so I don't just have to sit alone in a house with all the windows covered for 3-4 months every year because I get so sick in hot, sunny weather) and I think the ketamine has been really, really helpful. It hasn't cured me, but it does often take the edge off both the pain and the mental illness, and sometimes that's enough.

(Treatment-resistant depression is a biiiitch.)

I think getting diagnosed with PMDD has been helpful, too. It helps me to be a little more pragmatic about things, and has helped me to kind of see those voices as something outside myself. Now when I am... really, really struggling with feelings of worthlessness and feeling like... idk, like I'm a burden, like I need to die, etc. I can say like

well okay but you're also having cramps and your shoulder is dislocated so I think I know what's going on here lmao.

I'm not fixed, by any means, but I do feel like I have more tools to deal with it...? When my brain is getting very loud, I can be like. well, okay, auntie flo is being a real bitch to me this month, but I'll just move my ketamine treatment up a day and that should help.

So I feel less powerless, and I do think that's been very helpful. Having action steps and being able to look at my negative self-talk as my illness talking and not my actual self has been helpful. I can kind of frame it as being bullied rather than justifiably hating myself.

I do still struggle with a lot of self-worth issues outside of the chemical kind, but I think that forcing myself to unlearn a lot of internalized homophobia, fatphobia, ableism, etc. has helped to take the edge off of that, too. It's always been very difficult to imagine myself being loved, but I'm practicing. haha. It's a skill to master like any other.

I think what really prompted this, though, was remembering how bad I was 15 years ago. Like... having to cut all my hair off because it got so matted... It was so short for a while... And now I look at myself and like. I'm far from perfect, but I have long hair again. I own a little house. I take care of a cat. I have friends. I just finished writing a book.

I never could have finished something like this back then. I couldn't even feed myself.

So while some days I feel like I haven't progressed at all, I can hold up those accomplishments and be like. Okay, so your house is a mess. You get behind on work sometimes. Maybe you're self-conscious about this book.

But you have the house. You have the job. You have the manuscript.

You can't compare everything that you are to the perfect idealized version of you. That person doesn't exist. Maybe you should compare yourself to what you were fifteen years ago. That person doesn't exist anymore, either, but she used to.

So... I guess tonight maybe I'm doing that. Forcing myself to think about how close I was to death while still living, and to at least give myself kudos for growing enormously from there.

I still don't always feel like I'm living up to my full potential, but I am living. Which is a lot better than the sort of half-death I existed in back then.

Severe depression is... a lot. It's so hard. So many days I wake up and I just lie there for a long, long time. But... I do get out of bed eventually. And I did eat a few meals today. And I did divide this book into chapters.

idk. It's a journey. It's one that was almost cut short many years ago, but somehow despite it all I'm still here. And still walking. Maybe I'll get better than I am now. Maybe I won't. Maybe the idealized me will never exist.

But I won't let the other me exist again, either, and I suppose tonight that's good enough.

[alexiela73]

hi!!! im sorry if this might be a little bit of an odd request, but i just wanted to ask for a few (romantic) relationship headcanons with Hanzo! but if his s/o is gender-neutral and has multiple mental illnesses (namely autism, schizophrenia, DID, and anxiety!) i just want to know how you'd think he'd treat them 🥹 whether it's from like... the crushing phase -> the actual relationship phase 👉👈 I've just been struggling with a lot irl esp with my mental illnesses and hanzo has been a huge comfort for me;;; thank you sm in advance and again I apologize if this is such a weird request >< please feel free to ignore this if it makes you uncomfy!!! pls have a wonderful day ahead ^_^ /gen !!

So this is actually the second time I am writing this. My computer fritzed out on me AS I WAS TRYING TO POST IT. I apologize, as I’ve had to cut it shorter, it was SO LONG THE FIRST TIME and I spent forever on it. I hope it was what you were looking for.

Hanzo

The two of you met through Genji, who you’d become friends with after you both met at a local animal shelter.

Your friendship accumulated over the course of two years, and it wasn’t until two years later that you met his brother Hanzo.

At first, Hanzo was a bit standoff-ish, which was fine with you. Being around him was a bit difficult at first- his impassive face made it hard to know what he was thinking or feeling, and he always seemed intimidating. 

Genji though was determined for you two to get to know each other. He joked about Hanzo being incredibly socially awkward, and how he didn’t always seem to know how to fit in with this day and age.

You two actually started to open up a bit when you realized you had a few common interests, including urban myths and a select few video games. They were easy for you to talk about, flowing off your tongue excitedly as you spoke about your progress in Stardew Valley or how fun it had been playing Pokemon Legends of Arceus. Hanzo seemed to have no trouble following your line of thought, even as you cut from one game to the next.

The two of you gradually saw more and more of each other, till finally there was no need for Genji to be the middle man.

There were days he’d worry about your silence, and others where the two of you lose yourself to the simple pleasures of the world around you. Walks in the park, walking through the malls in the late evening when it was quietest.

He never seemed bothered when you said you needed a break, or that you were over stimulated. He was more then willing to find a quiet nook and either rub your back, get you a drink, or find something to help ease you out of the sensory overloads or anxiety attacks. He was good at keeping guard especially, and never rushed you and badgered you to calm down.

Although you knew it would eventually happen, he did finally ask about something Genji had mentioned to him-about you having autism.

He asked if it would be okay to talk about it, as he’d never spoken to someone with autism before. The fact that he was more curious then annoyed about it gave you hope.

While it made you a bit uncomfortable, you decided it was best to get it over with. You explained how you had been diagnosed from an early age and the impact it has had on your life growing up. How it affected your home, your friendships, your work and your passions.

It hasn't always been easy, you admitted. With all that came things like depression, anxiety- getting overstimulated easily sometimes or not being able to handle certain textures or sensory noises.

You explained it was different for everyone- the severity, the effects, the symptoms- the habits, the coping mechanisms, the limitations. You felt lucky, because there were so many things you could do that felt impossible for others.

Hanzo listened with such intensity, and you spoke openly for what felt like hours. He seemed to soak in all the words, absorbing it all and of course you told him he could always do more research.

"People with autism...can still have relationships though, right?" He asked, seeming a bit embarrassed. The question surprised you a bit. Hanzo was never one to ask such personal questions.

"Of course. It can be difficult sometimes...people sometimes assume that having autism means we're stupid or don't have the same kind of feelings or desires as other people. I know I want to date someday...I don't want to feel like I'm going to be alone forever for something I never asked for," you said, your voice quivering a bit. How often that thought consumed you...

"I see," Hanzo said awkwardly, before he looking down at you. "Then...would you consider possibly...erm. Would you consider going on a....date, with me," he managed to get out finally.

The question stunned you. "Date? Like, you want to go out with me? Romantically?" you asked.

Cheeks flushing faintly, he looked away and gave a hard nod. "Yes. Yes, I do," he says quietly.

You took a moment to think of what to say, what to feel.  You wanted to run, to crawl into the ground and hide. You felt ecstatic and overjoyed and overwhelmed and scared.

"...Can I think about it?" you asked finally. "I really need time to process it...I need you to think about it too. I have a lot of good days but my bad days...Some days, it feels like I'm suffocating. Like if I move, I might shatter. Like the world is clawing me down below the waves. And other days, I really just need to be alone. Touch is....is a lot for me sometimes. I can't just stop being me-"

"Don't stop being you," Hanzo says quietly. "I don't want to change you. You're different, and not just because of the disorder. I like you, y/n. I....I like you a lot. I want to try. I want to learn how to support you and to comfort you, and to be there when you need me. I just...want to be present."

Admittedly, no one had ever asked to be present for you like that. Your mood changes, being overwhelmed, stepping back and even your sensory issues were challenging for most people.

"I...Are you sure? What if it...becomes too much for you," you asked meekly.

"Then we talk. I value our friendship, y/n. I feel though I'd be doing us both a disservice by not being honest with you on my attraction to you. We can take all the time you need, go at your pace...just...just take some time to think about it, okay?" he said.

When Hanzo went home that day, you really took the time to think about it. To think about him, and whether there was any attraction, emotionally or physically to him. Whether it was worth it...

It took a week of thought, and ever patiently did he wait. When you finally agreed to try, that day you felt aflutter with hope. With happiness.

And as promised, you both took the time to talk. To build slowly on the relationship, to earn the trust of each other. Hanzo never made you feel bad about your worst days, never made you feel different for the way you spoke or the struggles you'd sometimes face.

He was an amazing partner, just the kind you deserved.

The kind who loved you, all of you.

[autobot2001]

A Complicated Situation

Author: Autobot2001 Genre: Fanfiction Fandom: Transformers Rating: T Warning: Poor mental health, anxiety, depression Pairing: Drift X Jamie (OC) Description: Jamie is anxious about what Optimus thinks about the recent events. She fears he'll tell her she can no longer come to the dimension. Continue from day 4.

@marchofpain day 5; anxiety

Jamie is certain Optimus found out what she did before Crosshairs and Drift found her. She's afraid he'll tell her she can't come to the dimension. Jamie also worries about what her friends think. Unknown to her, Crosshairs and Drift notice her anxiety. "Come here," Drift says and picks Jamie up. Jamie cries; Drift can feel her trembling. He feels her heart and the accelerated heart rate. The two mechs figure out the cause of Jamie's anxiety attack. They don't have to say anything to each other to know what to do. Drift tries to lie Jamie on the bed, but she holds onto him, which she's never done before. He slowly lies on his bed with her. Crosshairs waits to lie next to Jamie. The two watch the anxiety attack worsen, but they didn't expect it to result in a rare symptom; a seizure. "Frag, this isn't good," Drift worries, "this and what I suspect she's thinking to cause all this."

They knew Jamie would be out of it once the seizure ends, and they want to keep her calm. The two lie on the bed with Jamie lying on Drift. They aren't sure if they like how easily they figured out what caused Jamie's anxiety or not. Knowing the issue with how to resolve the issue.

Within ten minutes, Jamie is asleep. Drift lies her on the bed. He didn't think Crosshairs would cover her with his trench coat. "So….?" Crosshairs trails off. "I don't know. This is bad. I worry that having Optimus come talk to her will result in a repeat of what just happened, but this needs to be dealt with." Crosshairs hugs Drift, uncertain what to say. The two don't want to tell their friends what happened, but they know they need someone in the room, even if Jamie will be asleep for a while.

Lightning worries about Crosshairs and Drift's anxiety. It is obvious something happened, but she will not ask what. This can't be good if they're worried about talking to Ratchet and Optimus. Lightning observes. She sits on Crosshairs' bed, worried about what has made the two mechs anxious and whether Jamie being asleep has anything to do with it.

"This isn't good," Optimus sighs, "we worry about causing Jamie to feel like a prisoner here while trying to keep her safe, but feeling like she will not be allowed here…" The four make a plan, hoping to prevent another anxiety attack.

Optimus waits until after dinner to talk to Jamie. Crosshairs and Drift take her upstairs to their bedroom. Jamie is still tired from the earlier events to question why the three aren't following the usual routine. Lightning, Sideswipe, and Sunstreaker know what is going on. Crosshairs and Drift thought Jamie would be too tired to be afraid to see Optimus, but Jamie is still anxious seeing the Autobot leader walk into the room. This hurts Optimus to see this in addition to knowing what she did before Crosshairs and Drift found her. He sits next to Drift and takes Jamie's hand. Crosshairs sits on the coffee table. "You're staying here," Optimus says, "I am worried about you, but I know home is not a great place for you. Even while I worry about keeping you safe here." Optimus isn't sure what else to say. He moves Jamie onto his lap and hugs her. The three didn't think Jamie would fall asleep. Drift takes Jamie and puts her to bed. "I know here would be considered a terrible place, especially when she can get into the weapons room," Optimus says, "but everyone knows how bad things are in Jamie's dimension. She has friends here who care about her. This is a complicated situation." "It's terrifying," Crosshairs tells him. Optimus doesn't mention how worried he is about the two mechs. He leaves the room. Crosshairs and Drift watch TV for a while, hoping to relax, before going to bed.