#it's been such a hard past week mentally and I'm so tired and drained but seriously thank y'all it's made such a world of difference

[spaceratprodigy]

kissing everyone on the mouth for being so sweet abt the new art btw I have real tears in my eyes

[arlana-likes-to-write]

Hey, idk if you're taking requests in more "dark" topics. But i was wondering if you could do this one.

A year ago i attempted su!c!de, a few weeks later i started self-harming. And even before all that, i had developed an eating disorder.

I never told anyone about the sh and the ed, my parents found out my theirselves. When i attempted tho, i asked for help, cause as a teenage girl, i was scared. A week after my attempted i had already gotten a therapist and a lot of support, but i still hid parts of my struggle (ed and sh).

I was wondering if you could do a WandaNat x reader daughter, based on my "experience".

It doesn't have to be exactly like it, but "based" on it.

I'm starting to struggle again and i just needed some kind words.

Tyy x

Fly, birdie, Fly

Note: This story will feature heavy topics based on the ask above. If you find any of these triggering please do not read this. However, I am so proud of you for being here today. You are so important. Like Natasha and Peter say in this story, the whole you leave will be impossible to fill.

Warnings: mention of past abuse, poor mental health, eating disorder, self harm, suicide ideation, reader was with HYDRA and needs a hug, good parents Wanda and Natasha, Peter is a great friend.

Word count: 3.3k

There was something about the night sky that you found freeing. The vast darkness combined with the twinkle of stars created a stillness. It was quiet. Peaceful. You sat on the roof of a random New York City apartment. You weren’t sure who lived here as your feet dangled above the city street. The coldness pricked at your skin. You liked to run your fingers over the goosebumps that formed. “There you are,” you followed the voice and saw Peter. He took off his mask and walked over to you. “Your moms are almost home. You need to get back to the tower.”

Peter was a good friend. He deserved better than you, but you gave him upgrades to his suit. On nights when the noise in your head got too loud and you needed to escape the tower, he made sure you were back before anyone found out.

Slowly, you stood up and walked to the edge of the roof. Your arms outstretched to keep your balance. “Birdie, this isn’t funny. Get down. We need to go.”

Birdie. It was the nickname the Avengers called you. When they found you, you were being experimented on by HYDRA scientists. They implanted wings into your back - white like an angel. Ironically, they gave you wings to the girl who wanted to fall. Sighing, you jumped off and onto the roof. Your ankles tingled from the impact. “Did FRIDAY report any injuries?” You asked as Peter slipped his mask back on, and you both climbed down the fire escape.

“None,” Peter answered. They were able to save the hostages.” That was good. You knew the mission was going to be difficult, but like always, they saved the day.

“Thanks for the save, Spiderman,” you smiled. You tried to give him a genuine smile, but it was hard these days. See you later.”

“Bye, birdie,” he took off, and you were alone. With a sigh, you pulled up your hoodie and started the walk back to the tower.

───────── ౨ৎ ─────────

You managed to beat them back to the tower and start cooking. Your moms always liked to eat when they got back from a mission. Most of the time, they were too tired or hurt to cook. Cooking for them was the least you could do. Your attention got pulled away from the stovetop to the elevator. “It smells good, angel,” Natasha said.

“It should be ready soon,” you drained the pasta water and saved a little of it for the sauce. Wanda walked over to you and kissed the side of your head. “How was the mission?” It was the longest you’ve been separated from them since they adopted you. They always tried to have one of them stay behind. This mission was extensive, and the team couldn’t afford to leave one of them at the tower. They were gone for a week, and you hated how much you missed them.

“Good,” Natasha kissed the opposite side. “Tiring. I could sleep for 12 years,” you chuckled and looked over your shoulder. Natasha leaned heavily on Wanda’s back, her chin resting on her girlfriend’s shoulder. They tried to mask it, but you saw the signs of fatigue.

“Why don’t you go shower, and we can eat this in our rooms?” It was a way for you to make an easy escape, but Wanda shot that idea down with a quick shake of her head.

“We always have dinner together,” she gently patted Natasha, and the Black Widow grumbled but let go of Wanda. I’ll set up for a movie night,” there was no changing her mind when it was set to something. So you filled your bowl with as little as possible that wouldn’t draw their suspicion. By the end of the movie, your bowl was still full.

───────── ౨ৎ ��────────

It felt like a gift and a curse with the wings you were given. They allowed you to fly above the clouds and see the world uniquely. Then there was the cruse. The pain was unbearable when you kept your wings hidden for to long. But it was the nightmares that were the worst. Some nights, you woke up covered in sweat with a scream barely leaving your lips.

Tonight was not a nightmare that woke you up but the pain in your back. You buried your face in the pillow and bite your lip to stop the pained scream. The last thing you wanted was to wake up Natasha and Wanda. They were so tired, but the pain was awful. Silent tears raced down your cheeks as a pained whimper left your lips.

Suddenly, a gentle hand was placed in the middle of your back. You flinched away from the contact. “Sh, sweetheart. It’s okay,” Wanda’s soothing voice pierced through the pain. “You’re safe. We are right here,” you whimpered and squeezed your eyes shut.

“When was the last time you let them out?” You heard the sound of scissors cutting your shirt. Luckily, it was one of Natasha’s old SHIELD shirts. But the Black Widow asked you a question. You squeezed the blanket in your hand.

“Long,” you managed to squeak out. You could feel blood in your mouth from the wound you created on your lip. Natasha let out a disappointing sigh. You hated the sound. You hated that you were such a disappointment. “Not safe. Not safe,” you repeated. The process left you disorientated. Vulnerable. Even though you felt release from your wings being free, letting them free was almost worse. It was why you hadn’t joined the team on missions until Tony could figure out a way to lessen the pain.

“You are safe,” Wanda managed to sit you up, but the fabric of your shirt fell. She sat in front of you, and her forehead rested against yours. “We won’t let anything happen to you.”

“It’s gonna hurt,” you cried. This time, it was Natasha’s hand on your back. Hers were colder and rougher than Wanda’s.

“Yes,” the Black Widow kissed the side of your head. “But it will only be for a moment then it will feel better.” You gritted your teeth, the searing heat building between your shoulder blades. After so many times, you learned to block out the noise that came with this.

The first sharp crack was followed by the pain. It felt as if your spine was being torn apart. Then, another crack. You felt the warmth of your blood from the new wounds on your back. In your pain-hazed mind, you were afraid that you were going to hurt Wanda for how hard you were squeezing her.

When it was done, your body slumped against Wanda as she whispered gently reassurances in your ear. Then you heard it—the gentle flap of your wings. Natasha touched the feathers, and you felt them twitch. “Sorry,” she apologized. “I forgot how sensitive they are, but I’ll never forget how beautiful they are.”

You never found them beautiful. They were a constant reminder of the pain you endured and the choices made of you. “How are you feeling?” Wanda asked. You felt the bed shift as Natasha stood up and headed for the bathroom. You rubbed your forehead against her shoulder.

“Tired,” you mumbled. “Sore but better.” There was a weight lifted off your shoulders. It felt easier to breathe.

“You can go back to sleep once your mom cleans you up,” you nodded, and the bed shifted again, signaling Natasha’s return.

“I’ll be gentle,” she whispered, and the warm cloth was pressed against your back. It was instant relief. Your muscles relax more. “I think keeping them out for a few days is a good idea. Allow your body some relief.” Natasha scrubbed the dried blood off your skin.

“Okay,” you mumbled, too tired to protest.

───────── ౨ৎ ─────────

Since that night, the couple were watching you closely. They ensured you ate full meals and your wings were out for an appropriate amount of time. In some ways, you were the healthiest you’ve ever been and hated every moment of it.

The voices in your head were getting too loud. Pain was the only way to quiet them and push away the darkness. It seemed logical to spend your time in the bathroom after you ate, throwing up the food you just ate. Or drag a blade against your skin in places they wouldn’t see.

You felt dirty, weak, and guilty. Wanda and Natasha were giving you a second chance, and you were throwing it back in their faces. It was so hard to deliver that you were deserving of their love and the safety they gave you. There was a sadness in their eyes when they looked at you that they tried to hide. But you saw it. Maybe it was better if you left, saving them the pain of watching you slip away.

Once again, you found yourself atop a New York City apartment. This one was tall. Tall enough that if you kept your wings enclosed, death would be insistent. You took one step forward and-

“Woah, woah,” Peter said behind you, and you pulled your foot back. “I need you to get off the ledge, birdie.”

“Go away, Peter,” you told him without looking away from the sidewalk below you. “Go back to the tower and forget about me.”

“I can’t do that because your moms are losing their minds because they don’t know where you are. Someone disabled FRIDAY so as not to track you,” it was easy to hack into Tony’s AI system. You left a note in the mess of a lab on how you did it so he could fix the problem. “I promised them I’d find you and bring you home.”

“Why?” You asked. He was silent as you heard his footsteps walking over to you.

“Because I’ve been silent for too long. I’ve seen you hurt, and I’ve said nothing,” you closed your eyes, wobbling slightly as you lost your balance. There was so much guilt in his voice, and you hated it. You were the cause of it. It would be easier for everyone if you were gone. “You are my friend. You are one of my best friends. I know you think leaving us would cause less pain, but that’s not true. The whole you would leave would be impossible to fill.” Slowly, you turned around. He wasn’t wearing his suit, which meant he rushed over here in a hurry and put himself at risk of someone’s knowing the true identity of Spiderman. He put himself at risk for you.

Next, you noticed that his hand was outstretched as he waited for you to take it. “Please,” Peter pleaded. We all care about you. We can’t lose you.”

It seemed cliche as if he read it in one of those mental health pamphlets in the health office. But you wanted to believe him. “Peter, I-” Then it happened. It was an accident; you swore by it. Your foot slipped. The world tilted violently as your arms failed to reach for anything. A scream ripped from your throat as gravity claimed you, but Peter grabbed onto your wrist.

“I got you,” he said as he pulled you back onto the roof. Your entire body was shaking as the adrenaline ran through your veins. “I got you,” he repeated and pulled you into a hug. His heart was pounding in his ribs. “I got her,” You weren’t sure when he pulled out his phone, but he told whoever he was speaking with where you were, but it all turned fuzzy. Peter saved you, but you wished he hadn’t.

───────── ౨ৎ ─────────

The ride back to the tower was silent. Natasha drove, Peter was in the passenger seat, and Wanda sat next to you in the back. She brought a blanket with her, and it was tightly around your shoulders. You hadn’t stopped shaking, no matter how hard you tried to stop it. Wanda held your hand tightly in hers, afraid you’d slip out of her grasp.

The contact left your skin burning. You wanted to rip your hand from her, open the car door, and run. But you stayed. They deserved that much.

Natasha parked the car in the tower garage. “Thank you, Peter,” the Black Widow said. “I’ll come and talk to you later.” Your friend nodded and said his goodbyes, but his eyes locked with yours. They pleaded with you to be honest, stay, and fight. You had no energy to smile back.

Now, the car was suffocating. It was claustrophobic, as if the car doors were closing on you, and all the air was ripped from your lungs. “Sometimes,” you found your voice. “I wish I died on the operating table you found me on,” you admitted. “Death seems easier than living.”

“Oh, my sweet girl,” Wanda whispered. You kept your eyes trained on the center console. You couldn’t stomach it if you looked at them.

“I know you both love me. I know the team cares about me. I have a place here in all this, but I’m just-”

“Tired,” Natasha finished your sentence when your voice failed you. Finally, you looked at the redhead. Her green eyes were glossy, and a sad smile was on her face. You hated that you were the cause of the pain. She reached for your face and placed a gentle hand on your cheek. Even when you flinched, her smile never faded. “Our words won’t reach you with those negative thoughts racing through your read, but your mother and I are going to fight for you and remind you every day how much you are needed here.”

Peter said something similar. The hole you would leave would be impossible to fill. How blind were you to the impact you had on their lives? “Mama,” you whimpered.

“It’s okay, dorogoy,” Wanda whispered. Your face turned into the crock of her neck and your tears stained the fabric of her shirt. Your quiet cries turned to heartbreaking sobs that shook your body. But Wanda held you strong, steady. Her heart remained constant even when you felt the slight hitch of her breathing.

“I’m - I’m scared,” you cried. “I wanna die.” With your confession, Wanda held you tighter.

───────── ౨ৎ ─────────

Natasha wasn’t sure if the emotional outburst or the usage of her girlfriend’s powers helped you fall asleep. But you were out against Wanda, your hands twisted in the fabric of her shirt. “Let’s get her to our room,” the Black Widow spoke softly. Wanda only nodded. Her eyes were unable to look away from you. By the grace of a higher power, Natasha managed to lift you out of the back seat. You were lighter in her arms. She knew you were limiting your potions, and now she was kicking herself for not saying something sooner. The Black Widow was so scared to push you away. Now, she feared she was too late.

Thankfully, she made it to their room without alerting the rest of the team. She gently laid you down on the bed. “Should we change her out of these clothes?” Natasha asked as she looked at Wanda. Her girlfriend was quiet and gently sat on the bed’s edge to avoid disturbing you. “Hey,” she squeezed her shoulder. “Talk to me.”

“I feel like if I take my eyes off of her, she’s going to disappear,” Wanda huffed. “I’m a mind reader. How did I not see this?” Natasha sighed and moved to stand behind her. Wanda’s back was flushed against her front.

“Maybe we did see it, and we didn’t want to accept it.” Again, Wanda was quiet. There wasn’t a good way to respond to this. “Stay with her,” Natasha kissed the top of her head. “I’m going to go check on Peter.”

───────── ౨ৎ ─────────

Wanda sighed deeply when Natasha left. A crushing weight lay across her chest. Every breath she took hurt. It felt similar to when she first arrived at the tower while grieving for her brother and country. Grief was suffocating her—grief for a little girl that she loved so much and was hurting.

She stood up and walked into her bathroom. When the water from the sink warmed up, she splashed it on her face. All she wanted to do was scream and cry, but she needed to push all that down to be there for you.

Wanda was the one to find you. During her time at HYDRA, she heard whispers of other facilities that were experimenting on other kids. The Avengers were working on stopping them. A lot of them were abandoned. Until they arrived at the facility when you were held captive. The security put up a fight, but they were able to secure the building. Wanda found you strapped down to a table. Bloody and bruised and barely conscious. You flat-lined a few times on the way back to the tower, but Bruce was able to bring you back. All Wanda wanted to do was protect you.

When Ross discovered what you could do, he threatened to send you to the RAFT. Everyone was scared of the wings, but not her or Natasha. The couple saw you as a scared girl, and adopting and protecting you made sense.

Once her face was dried, she returned to the room. “Oh,” she jumped when she saw you were awake and staring at her. “You scared me. I didn’t expect you to be up.” She hoped her magic would keep you asleep until the morning.

“Nightmare,” your voice was raw and rough. “Why am I here?”

“Your mom and I wanted to keep you close,” she said, closing the distance and sitting on the bed next to you. Do you want to go back to your room?” The idea of being away from you terrified her, but it was your choice. So much of your autonomy was taken; she never wanted to force you.

“Wanna stay,” Wanda smiled, and you took her hand. Sometimes, Wanda forgets how young you are. You acted so much older, hardened by the horrible circumstances you had to endure. Now, you looked smaller, younger than only 17.

There was so much she wanted to say to you to convince you to stay and fight. But Wanda understood that pain as well. Living seemed so hard; death seemed easier. With death, you would never see how much your life meant to them. “I get it,” Wanda spoke softly. You looked away from her hands to look into her eyes. “The feeling of dread that just follows you. Like a blanket. It can be suffocating,” you nodded. “I’ve learned to let others help hold the weight. It makes it easier to breathe.” You frown and bite your lip. You habitually pitted your lip so hard it would draw blood. Wanda gently used her thumb and touched your chin to get you to stop.

“I’m scared,” you whispered. “What if I’m broken and I can’t be fixed?”

“You are not broken, sweetheart,” Wanda squeezed your hand. “You are healing, and healing isn’t always linear. There will be ups and downs, and sometimes you will fall. But your mom and I will always catch you. When tears fell down your cheeks, Wanda pushed them away, and she expected you to flinch. Instead, you leaned into her touch. Progress was good. “However, you need to want to be helped. All your choices have been made for you; you must make this one.”

Your eyebrows scrunched together as you thought it over in your head. It felt like an eternity until you sighed. “Help me,” you pleaded. “Save me like you saved me from those monsters.”

“Always.”

───────── ౨ৎ ─────────

Again, you sat on a roof. This time, it was on top of the Avenger tower, and you weren’t alone. There was music, laughter, and a warmth that filled your chest. Peter sat next to you and handed you a root beer bottle. “Alright, birdie?”

“Yeah,” you clicked the bottle against his. “Alright.”

You weren’t afraid of falling anymore because there would be someone to catch you.

[kisses-for-you]

just 'tired' - d. grayson

dick grayson x fem!reader

summary: when your boyfriend hits you, Dick is there to help comfort you.

w/c: 1.3k

⚠️: mentions of abuse.

The exhaustion had settled deep into your bones. Lately, you had been more drained than ever — mentally, physically, emotionally. It was showing. Your movements during training had lost their sharpness, your reaction times slower than ever. The bruises and cuts you tried so hard to conceal were becoming increasingly harder to hide. Your teammates were beginning to notice, but none more so than Dick Grayson.

Within the past few weeks, your boyfriend had changed. He'd started to become more unpredictable, cruel, violent. The first time he hit you, you told yourself it was just a small mistake, a ‘heat of the moment’ kind of thing. He had apologized profusely, showered you with gifts and kisses, convincing you it would never happen again. But it did. Again and again. And each time, you became more afraid, more trapped. You didn't fight back and it wasn't because you couldn't, but because you knew what he was capable of. You knew he could break you if he wanted to. And maybe, in a way, he already had.

You had lost weight. The stress of everything in your life had stolen your appetite, and even when you did try to eat, your stomach churned, rejecting the food. It was becoming obvious; the sharp angles of your collarbones were more pronounced and your face was more hollow. Your clothes hung loosely on you now, and despite your best efforts to brush off any concern from your friends, Dick wasn't buying it.

After an exhausting training session, he approached you, his expression serious. "I need to talk to you."

"Like right now?" You asked, exhaling sharply. You had nothing left in you for a heavy conversation.

"Yes, right now, Y/N." His voice was steady but firm, the kind of tone that let you know this wasn't something he was willing to let go.

You sighed, running a shaky hand through your hair. "Fine. What is it?"

His eyes scanned you, taking in every detail — your tired eyes, the bruises peeking out from beneath your sleeves, the way you seemed ready to collapse. "Something's wrong. You're not yourself. I've seen the bruises, the weight loss,” he said. “Tell me what's going on."

Your pulse quickened. You couldn't tell him. He would intervene, and you weren't exactly sure that it would make your situation better. "I'm just tired, Dick. It's been a tough few weeks."

He narrowed his gaze. "It's more than that, and you know it. Please, Y/N. Just tell me."

You looked away, shifting uncomfortably. "I don't want to talk about it. Just drop it, okay?"

"I can't just drop it, Y/N. Not when I know something's wrong. You don't have to go through this alone — no matter what it is."

You wanted to tell him. You wanted to collapse into his arms and let him fix everything. But fear held you back. "Whatever. Just… leave me alone, Dick!" You turned on your heel and stormed to your room, slamming the door shut behind you.

"I said I'm fine!" Your voice came out sharper than intended, and you immediately regretted it. Dick flinched slightly, but his expression remained steady. His jaw clenched, but his voice remained calm.

"I'm not going to drop it until you tell me the truth."

For the next week, Dick gave you space. He still watched you, still kept an eye out, but he didn't push. He knew he would have to get the truth out of you eventually. And you knew it too. But when you finally did, it was under circumstances neither of you had prepared for.

The night you returned to the Tower, you were barely standing. Blood trickled from your nose, a deep purple bruise was forming around your eye, and new marks littered your body. You had come home to find your boyfriend in bed with another woman. When you confronted him, it had escalated, and this time, he had shown no restraint. You had no one else to turn to. No other place to go. The Titans were your family, maybe not by blood, but by bond. And now, they were all you had left.

As the elevator doors opened to the common area, your legs wobbled beneath you. Your vision blurred slightly from exhaustion and pain, but through the haze, your eyes found Dick's. He had been sitting on the couch, his laptop in front of him, but the moment he saw you, everything else ceased to matter. His entire body stiffened, his brown eyes widening in horror. In an instant, the laptop was forgotten, and he was on his feet, moving toward you faster than you could react.

“Y/N,” he breathed, his voice thick with concern, and barely controlled anger. Anger for whoever had done this to you, although he already had an idea of who it had been. His hands hovered near your arms, not wanting to hurt you but trying to support you in any way he could. “What the hell happened?”

Your lips trembled, but no words came out. The second you tried to speak, the dam inside you broke, and you collapsed against him. A sob escaped your throat as his arms caught you, wrapping around you protectively. His grip was firm yet gentle, as if he was afraid you might shatter in his arms.

“You're safe now,” he murmured, his voice laced with a quiet rage that was not meant for you, but for the man who had done this to you. His hand ran over your back, trying to soothe you as your tears dampened his shirt. He held you in a way which made you feel like he would never let anything hurt you again.

“I didn't know where else to go,” you whispered brokenly against his chest, your fingers clutching his shirt as if letting go would make everything crumble.

“You're exactly where you need to be,” he reassured you, his voice steady. ���You're home.”

You weren't sure how long he held you, but after a while, the sobs began to subside. He pulled back just enough to look into your eyes, his hands still on your arms. “Can you tell me what happened, Y/N?” he asked softly.

Swallowing hard, you finally found the courage to speak. “My boyfriend… he cheated on me. And when I confronted him, he hit me. He's been hitting me for a while now, but it's never been this bad.”

The muscles in Dick’s jaw tensed. His fingers curled slightly, as if he was holding himself back from unleashing his fury right then and there. His eyes darkened, something that sent a shiver down your spine — not in fear, but in the realization that he would do anything to keep you safe.

“Y/N,” he said, his voice quieter now, but no less intense. “He will never touch you again. I promise you that.”

Tears welled up again, but this time, they weren't just from fear. They were from relief. You wrapped your arms around him again, burying your face in his chest. “Thank you.”

He pressed his lips to the top of your head, lingering there for a long moment. When he finally pulled back, his expression was unreadable, but the storm in his eyes was undeniable. “You stay here,” he told you, his voice calm but deadly serious. “I have something I need to take care of.”

“Dick, you don't have to-”

His eyes met yours, and whatever protest you were about to make died on your lips. “Yes, I do.” And with that, he turned and left the Tower, his fists clenched, his mind set. For the first time in a long time, you felt safe.

DC masterlist

[psychedelic-ink]

an update

I think this was a post long coming, and I just want to say right off the bat that it's nothing bad, just some life updates I wanted to share with y'all 💕

These past weeks have been tiring, we had overnights for inventory for about two weeks which left me pretty tired and exhausted to do anything else, I also had regular shifts in between which drained the remaining energy I had left.

I still don't have my license (I do have my permit tho!) because I have to buy additional classes but I'm planing on buying them this week so I can get my license as soon as possible.

I have an official-ish move date! thank you to everyone who donated to my kofi and helped me out. I'll be moving in July 9th with a friend from work which is exciting and at the same time slightly nerve wrecking???? I don't know what I'm feeling to be honest, I think I've just been feeling kinda homesick and lost. Even though I always preferred living on my own, I still had the chance to visit my family whenever and I don't really have that chance here-- I mean sure if there's an emergency I can fly over but I can't really just get on a bus and visit them which makes me even more anxious.

BUT I have been happy and will be happier as soon as I move out and get my freedom again (my aunts have placed cameras in the house which I'm hoping they'll remove soon and they only had them because of the trip they went to but it's been four days and the cameras are still there....)

I'm hoping to get back into writing again, I have commissions I'm working on so most free time I have goes to that but believe me when I say I miss writing for myself and you guys SO MUCH. I miss spending time on other hobbies as well and it's been hard getting my groove back but I am trying.

I miss tumblr and you guys and I am so so sorry if it looks like I've been ignoring tags or messages. It's just I'm mentally drained and most of the time wait for a moment I'm not to answer which sometimes take a while.

I love you guys all so so much !

[jaelvr]

sunny days

Home | NCT 127 masterlist |

Requested : no

Prompts ; 17. “Look at me. I love you.” + 23. “You are more than you think of yourself. You’re everything to me.” 

Pairing : best friend! Mark x reader

Pronouns : you/yours

Type : fluff

Word count : 600

Warnings : mutual feelings, friends to lovers, idol au, fluff, slightly ooc

Have a great day !! 

——————————

"Hey.." you spoke softly, gently squeezing his shoulder. He'd called you over, feeling slightly overwhelmed from the past few weeks, needing some comfort. "Hey…" Mark replied back softly, looking up briefly at you. He was having a hard time keeping up with all the comeback after comeback too. He was feeling both mentally and physically exhausted from it all, and he had been trying hard to keep it all in until he finally decided to call you over for some comfort. "Talk to me, sweet." you murmured as you sat next to him on his bed, arms open for him.

Mark didn't waste any time, immediately accepting the offer of a safe space. He slowly crawled towards you, burying his face into your chest and letting out a long breath he'd been holding. "I'm just…tired…of everything," he finally uttered, sounding both tired and frustrated. "It's just been back to back, and there's no sign of it stopping anytime soon…" he frowned, his tone showing his slight agitation. You caressed the back of his head, kissing his forehead as you let him vent. Mark stayed silent as he buried further into your chest, enjoying the touch of your hands as you caressed his hair and kissed his forehead. He stayed still for a bit longer, taking a few deep breaths while trying his best to calm himself down and relax. "And it's all becoming too much to handle…" he finally continued after a moment of silence. "It's just tiring… having to keep acting, keep performing, keep practising, keep doing everything over and over and over again…"

"Hey, hey, hey.." you frowned, carefully wiping his tears away. It hurt to see him like this. There was no doubt that he was good at his job, but his company did overwork him, hardly giving him a break in between promotions with 127 and Dream. "They don't know when to stop…" Mark continued, still keeping his head burrowed into you as you wiped his tears away. He looked utterly drained, and his voice was also hoarse and tired as well. "They just push me and push me and they never let me stop… I'm so tired, Ruby." He muttered, finally lifting his head from your chest to look at you. His eyes were filled with exhaustion, and there was still a tear rolling down his cheek.

“You are more than you think of yourself. You’re everything to me.” you murmured gently, caressing his cheek and wiping the tear away. Mark froze for a moment as he felt your hand caress his face and wipe away the tear. He didn't know why, but he felt his cheeks warm up as he felt your touch, and for some reason, his heart felt like it was fluttering. "love…" he muttered quietly, and he didn't know what came over him as he did so. Perhaps it was the exhaustion, the tiredness of it all, and even the emotions he suddenly felt for you too.

“Look at me. I love you.” you assured, cupping his face gently. Mark did as you asked, lifting his head and meeting your gaze as you cupped his face. At this moment, everything seemed so surreal to him, from his exhaustion to the emotions he suddenly felt boiling up within him. "I…" he started before he finally stopped his own sentence, not sure what he should even say. It was still so strange and surreal to him to hear those words coming from your mouth and to see your gaze, looking at him with such warmth and affection.

"I love you too."

[grwnsz]

bad days [bakugo katsuki x m!reader]

tws : failing, small mental breakdown, overthinking, stress

context : m/n aizawa's son and alrdy in a relationship w bk

-> what happens when m/n has a bad day and how bk helps :)

School was very stressful for you these past weeks. With midterm exams coming up, your father expects a lot from you academic wise and also performance wise (for the hero aspect of the exams). With the competitiveness of Class 1-A, everyone is trying their best to exceed expectations and outperform each other. The stress and never-ending pressure everything is giving you is suffocating you from the inside. The goals you've set for yourself now seems so far away. You were losing sleep from staying up late all night studying, forgetting to eat, drinking minimal water. You were losing awareness in your surroundings.

Soon you lost sight of yourself. Who are you? What is your purpose? You were so tired. So drained from trying to reach everyone's expectation of you.

After a long hard day of school and only surviving on caffeine and a 15 minute power nap, you were off to training at the Class 1-A designated gym. That was your current routine. Wake up, school, training, study, nap, repeat. On the way, you were stopped by your father. Aizawa.

He forcefully grabbed you by the shoulder and turned you around. Shocked by the sudden movements, you felt the room spin as you snapped back into reality.

"You're starting to look more like me by the day," He joked about the heavy undereye bags you developed.

You chuckled nervously at his comment as he furrowed his brows at your condition, "Are you doing alright? Your actions are sluggish and your reactions are slow. Would you perform and pass the hero exam?"

His words may seem caring and concerned from a parent's perspective, but those words felt like stone that piled onto your back, adding to the already overfilling stress and pressure you have been harbouring since weeks ago.

"Yea...I'm fine," You paused, trying to control your shaky voice, "Just had a bad sleep...um...I...have training,"

Swiftly, without letting Aizawa get another word in you turned and ran out of his sight. Holding back a small cry, you ran towards the gym. Your mind spinning.

"Sluggish"

"Slow"

"Failure"

"Disappointment"

Words kept flashing through your mind as you finally reached the entrance of the gym.

Feeling all the stress and pressure you've been holding back from destroying you inside, hit you like a giant wave. It was heavy, it was painful and exhausting.

Tears, one by one, came sliding down your face until it was just a stream of water. Your legs gave out as you just sat on the lush green grass crying your heart out. Releasing all the pressure you've been feeling.

As you cried and wailed the feelings you've been trying so hard to keep at bay, locked in the back of your mind, you felt a pair of hands wrapped themselves around you. You felt warmth in this moment of darkness. You opened your reddened and puffy eyes to see fluffy blonde hair. A familiar, calming scent filled your nose as you hiccuped from the vigorous crying session.

"Bakugo?" He had engulfed you in a hug and lifted you into a more comfortable position. His arms wrapped around your neck, with you sat atop of his crossed legs. You hugged him tightly with your face snuggled in the crook of his neck.

He hummed the tune of your favourite song to help you calm down. However, that only made you start crying more. How appreciative you were to have such a kind and wonderful person in your life.

"You're okay," He whispered softly in an attempt to stop you from bawling your eyes out. No matter how tough he pretends to be on the outside, to watch the person he cherishes the most, breakdown and cry out so agonisingly, it was like torture.

With small, gently pats and soft humming of your favourite song, you slowly captured your breaths and your tears started to decrease. You blinked your tired and worn out eyes to get out the rest of your tears and relaxed your tensed body into the arms of him.

"I'm sorry," You hiccuped and wiped the remaining tears off your face.

"For what? You have nothing to be sorry about," He said and lifted you up.

"You wanna talk about it?" He asked as you snuggle into him.

"No...not right now," He was one of the last person you wanted to share the pilled up emotions you've been feeling. With his competitve personality and just how strong he is, you would sometimes feel inferior to him. But knowing how understanding he could be sometimes, you decided it's best if you shared the reason behind your breakdown sometime else.

"K...I'll be here whenever you're ready," He said as he carried you back to your dorm.

"I'm going to help you change and tuck you into bed. I'm going to leave to go make you some dinner ok? Don't you fucking get out of that goddamn bed you probably haven't touched in like ten years. I'll order some of your [fav drink] and make [fav dish]. You're going to finish all of it. Not a single goddamn crumb left. Understood?" He plopped you down onto your bed. You nodded and sniffed.

"Good, after that we can cuddle up and watch [fav movie]...might as well clean your fucking room while you eat...jesus christ my guy?! How do you find your clothes in this shit?! You know what! Come with me!" He exploded, despite his violent outburst he gently (yet still aggressively) picked you back up, slammed your door and headed to his room instead.

He gently sat you down in his soft and clean bed as you watched him swing open his closet and (aggressively) open his drawers, picking out a shirt and some pants for you. You watched him decide on the perfect pair of pants and perfect shirt for you to wear while also wondering how the hell is his closet still intact.

He placed the folded clothes on the side of the bed and looked at you for permission. You sniffed and slightly nod to give him the a-okay on helping you undress. You sat like a child as he unbuttoned your shirt, Your heart melted at the gentleness of his actions. Making sure his fingers don't make contact with your skin even if you gave him permission he still didn't want to overstep any boundaries and make you uncomfortable. He slipped off your shirt and grabbed his iconic skull t-shirt.

"Up," He ordered and you raised your arms. He slipped it on. His shirt was soft and smelled really nice (just like him).

"Here, change," He handed you a pair of his boxers and turned around. You changed your underwear and tugged at his shirt to let him know you were done, having no voice left.

A giant smirk appeared on his face as he picked you up with ease. Placing you in the middle of his bed and surrounded you with pillows. Tucking you in and switching on his TV, he put on one of your favourite movies of all time and gave you some [fav snack] to snack on while you watched.

"I'll be back in a bit, don't you dare fucking cry again. You're the best human being on earth and I don't give a shit what anyone says, you're enough...fuck I'm not good at this consoling shit! You get what I mean right?! Fucking hell, this shit's embarrassing! I'm going to go make dinner!" He awkwardly scurried out of the room. Your heart felt full. All the pressure and stress was gone and the heavy feeling in your chest disappeared. You felt at ease and so comfortable and peaceful. With [fav movie] playing in the background, you slowly fell into some well deserved sleep.

[veiledfox]

} As much as it hurts, I really should just announce an indefinite hiatus at this point.

I've had next to no muse or motivation whatsoever for weeks, and whenever I've come on here it's always just been an immediate mental and emotional drain. Between seeing stuff from people I wish I could still write with like we used to, but knowing we can't. Never seeing similar support as others have whenever things have been rough. And practically nothing ever being sent my way while essentially everything I've sent out has just been dropped. There's just too many negatives that drain me so damn quickly on here with my already heavily pessimistic mindset and all kinds of self-confidence and self-doubt issues.

After having been like this for the past few weeks... I really don't know when I'll be able to return, let alone if I ever will. I don't want to just drop this blog and these characters either, though, cause like I've said before I've never been more happy with the characters I've written in the past as I have been with these ones. Which is why everything that's happened and just gotten worse and worse throughout the year for most of them has hit so damn hard.

That and I'm really tired of trying to start again from scratch only for the same cycle to repeat itself. This whole thing has just happened again and again on every single blog I've had for the past decade. Which makes it hard to believe it'll ever change honestly.

Gonna do a little bit of cleanup on discord too, try and just narrow things down to the people I actually still talk to. If you've read this far, have me on discord, and we've not talked in a while but you still want to keep me on there, just send a message my way on there.

If I post anything else after this, I'll be trying to keep it to my personal, which is a side-blog, so things might wind up on here from time-to-time cause of Tumblr's dumb system.

I'm sorry.

[am-i-the-asshole-official]

WIBTA if I left my mom alone dealing with my traumatized sister?

This turned out to be very long, there's a synthesis at the end. My (22FtM) sister (8F) has gone to summer camp and, for the first time, slept in a tent away from home. Except that the people looking after the kids for the night (mostly 16-17 yo teens) didn't mention that it was supposed to be a horror night, and my sister (probably the youngest of the group) was forbidden to come home or call her parents, both the night and the following day.

Of course she came back traumatized (considering that she's easily scared too) and began having full blown panic attacks, crying and whatnot. When we asked the people who ran the camp for an explanation, they said nothing was wrong with her, and that's why they called no one to pick her up, thus making it harder to reconstruct what happened to us and straight up lying, but this is a whole other story.

It has been two weeks for now and although she's gotten better, my sister still needs someone looking after her 24/7 or will start to get scared and risk having panic attacks, especially at night. This situation is extremely draining to everyone, but I'm constantly asked to babysit, a lot of the time interrupting whatever I have to do to look after her, or make the activities I was doing kid friendly (as a metalhead this means "no scary music" or if I'm playing games or watching something, it must be suitable for her). This is especially hard on me since for practical reasons I'm forced to share my room with her, and she will often hang around me, and it's not excluded that she may ask me to leave the room so that she can play on her own.

On top of this, my grandfather (my mom's stepdad) is currently in the hospital for heart surgery, which preoccupies my mother further and will take it out on everyone passive-aggresively since she's a really anxious person on her own, let alone in this situation.

I'm reaching a breaking point where I'm struggling to keep it together and not to lash out at everyone, meaning that I get nervous or snappy when tired and will need a lot of alone time since I can't get any during the day (I've been recently diagnosed as autistic, and only now acknowledging my own needs and not just "pushing through" them), to the point my mom is starting to blame the T I take because of my transition for my bad mood or straight up scolding me because I'm "exaggerating" or "not doing enough for the family".

I don't blame her but her behaviour is objectively making things worse to me, but anytime I tried to tell her about my feelings in the past she's been belittling them or storming out of the room without listening to me.

I'm considering going away for a couple of days, but I'm afraid that my absence may actually worsen the situation because I'm the only one in the house who can afford to and is actively putting work/studying to the side to make room for my family's needs, and without the extra help my mom gets the whole thing could become unsustainable for everyone, not just for me.

TLDR: WIBTA if I left my mom dealing with my 8 yo sister's trauma to prioritize my own mental health and my studies?

What are these acronyms?

[thegreatimpersonator]

Hi Sarah, I probably should just unfollow you and keep curating my experience here, but you've been one of my fave blogs for years so I'm gonna try to explain it just in case it helps. The reason why I'm leaving and other people I know have left is because your blog is so draining... Obviously we don't know you personally or how you behave on a day-to-day basis, and it's not all your fault since 80% of your blog is usually asks of people complaining, but do you really not realize this? I remember that you said once during your hiatus that you were going to focus on enjoying things and getting rid of the negative vibes and stop responding to asks that only created drama. That felt so refreshing and good for you, but it keeps getting worse now. And if it feels this way to me and others, I can't imagine the weight that you must carry every day from the moment you log in... I'm telling you this because I don't consider you a toxic person and I think that you'd like to know if someone perceives you the same way as you perceive that one blog you hate (only in your case, it's the other way around) because to be fair the differences are not that huge... Obviously you're the opposite, but in terms of behaviour and perception as a whole, the vibes are there. I'm sorry if any of this has offended you, you're free to ignore it, keep feeding your anons and move on. I know it feels like an attack and that you losing one or two of your followers that you don't even know isn't gonna affect you at all, that's not the meaning behind this. I say this because I genuinely care as I know how toxic these apparently harmless environments can be to your own mental health. You are so much better and clever than that. Anyway, I wish the best for you, maybe I'll be able to follow you again some day. Good luck and please take care 💕

You know what. You’re right. Obviously you can unfollow me no matter what that’s your choice but I’m going to be honest, I am really tired.

I kind of have begun to dread looking at my inbox in the morning because of all the negativity and while I agree with a lot of it, it gets so repetitive. I have been trying to practice not answering the worst ones because my god are they bad and I’ve been doing a good job at just deleting them but there’s so many. I honestly just don’t want to not answer people, so many people have told me this is safe space for them and when they’re venting to me I feel like I have a responsibility to reply and have them feel heard, and I have thought about how it must feel to follow me and have to deal with all these asks.

It’s also really hard to get out of. Like every time something happens I get 20, 50, even 100+ asks about it and I feel like I have to respond. And that’s not even including the insane amount of troll asks I get, it’s exhausting. And I don’t wanna sound ungrateful, people have been so nice to me and appreciative. But for the past week or two, I’ve been wanting to just turn my inbox off because of how bad the troll asks have gotten and how I dread seeing more complaints first thing when I wake up but I’d feel so guilty taking the space away from people.

I feel the need to apologize but I don’t really know what for, the negativity I guess. I do not like what my blog has become to be honest. I think I’m gonna take the day and think about some stuff. Thank you for sending this in such a respectful, constructive way.

[peyton--warren]

Went to therapy today after having the startling revelation this week I literally could not careless about much of anything. I realized mid-week that if I was caught on my phone at work by my boss's boss and reprimanded that I wouldn't even think twice about telling him to go fuck himself , and flushing my 24 year career down the drain.

Talked at length with my therapist of 5+ yrs today and turns out I have "burn out.". I've heard of burn out. I've thought I've had it in the past but this that I'm going through right now is a whole other level of not giving a shit. About myself, about others, about my health, about so much that I should give a shit about. It's a little of the season, a dash of my mental illness, an unhealthy dose of my trauma, and a whole pile of hot shit from the last few years finally breaking me into a pile of goo. No lie, folks, she pointed out things from 2020 that still are vexing me hard.

We talked about me changing jobs, moving to another part of the country, trying new things, finding new relationships, discovering new hobbies, changing up current routines. Some of those things I can do now, some of those things will have to happen overtime. Have two job applications already out, they are both on the East Coast of the US, I'm much closer to the West Coast currently.

I need to find new groups of people to spend actual IRL time with, and since generally I dislike people as a whole (which therapist pointed out I say as a default when she challenges me to branch out and find new IRL people...) could be a challenge for me. She specifically told me to look into "local" queer communities- read "local" as 80 miles away from where I live cuz I live in a rather conservative small town with very few (as in I know only 2 other queer people in our town of less than 1000) . That's a distance to just hang out especially this time of the year in an area where winter weather is no joke.

Making small changes to my routine is hopefully gonna help. I kinda stared blankly at her this morning when she suggested I not start my work day at my office, to find some other way to start work... Still have no idea what else I am gonna do at work if I don't start in the office. I'm supposed to "get creative.".

Anyway, am also gonna try rekindling some of my crafty, artsy hobbies to try to help. Idk if that will include fic writing. I haven't even tried writing in months. Have been jotting down ideas and even brain storming to help other writers but I've got jack and shit for myself.

Am tired. So tired. Tired to my soul. And I don't want feel like this any more. I need to find a way out.

[bots-and-cons]

Stressed, tired and dealing with grief

I know the title probably makes it sound worse than it actually is, but I just need to vent, because I've had a bit of a rough week. I'll try to post something tomorrow, because I don't like leaving the blog alone for this long. Also I can deal with crap by writing so it's a win-win I guess. The stuff below might be a bit of a ramble, but eeeh

Venting starts here btw

There has been a lot going on during the past week and being at my mom's and looking after my little sister really drained me, because I didn't get a single minute alone for six days, aside from sleeping and I didn't do much of that either. My social battery is already nonexistent to begin with and then you add to that no sleep, it's not a good combination. I'm probably not going to my mom's for a couple of weeks, since I can't really deal with my two youngest siblings until I recharge.

On other news, my grandma on my dad's side died a couple of years back in June, and her husband, my grandpa is in a nursing home. I don't visit him much, because I can't really handle it well. He doesn't remember any of us anymore, not even my dad, and it's just way too much for me to handle most of the time.

Anyway, today we went to clean out their old house and it was pretty hard. I didn't really realize it right then, but now that I'm getting tired and have stopped for the day, it's kind of hitting me. We found so many old things that I played with when I was a kid, clothes that I remember my grandma wearing, actual physical photographs were stuffed into every cabinet and corner, and I found all kinds of stuff. I didn't really stop to look at them though, I couldn't really handle it. I looked at one photo for a while, my grandma smiling, wearing that blue flower dress that she liked. That's how I'd like to remember her though, smiling. I know she loved me, even though I didn't hear it for a long time before she died, because she stopped talking. I'll always love her and even though the grief raises its head occasionally, I'll get through it somehow.

Another thing that's been getting to me is the anniversary of Technoblade's death. He died last year at the very end of June. I don't normally get attached to youtubers or streamers, or people on the internet I don't personally interact with, but I guess in his case it was different. I started watching Technoblade when I was still pretty badly depressed, and he was a big source of fun and joy for me. He was one of my comfort youtubers and I still watch his old videos occasionally. I just watched a few old animations about him and hearing his voice literally made me cry.

There's a lot that's stressing me out right now and my grandma's death anniversary among other things just happened to trigger a bit of an emotional avalanche. I've been keeping all this crap in since the beginning of June and it's now all rising to the surface, because I'm tired and don't have the strength to keep it at bay anymore. Also me overburdening myself doesn't help this situation at all, so I'll probably sort of refrain from most social contacts next week and try to take it easy. I'll make some good food, bake something for my birthday (12th of July) and maybe go get ice cream with my bff. I also have an appointment with my mental health counselor/nurse on Monday, so that's gonna help the situation a lot too.

Stay hydrated y'all and thanks if you read all this :D

[mopeymousey]

Mental void meals for the week below the cut. Don't read unless youre interested in a sad girls self deprecating ramblings.

I've been strangely bad at texting people back. That's never been an issue I had before and usually love to talk with people, but I've been so tired lately and then the guilt of neglecting friends compounds it. I don't like this and wish I could go back to being a better communicator.

I have been asked to socialize with people a lot recently and it's draining. I feel like the more I get to know someone, the more reasons I find to not hang out with them or engage with them. It's just excuses to isolate myself, but it's hard to fight against.

I haven't been actively suicidal, but the passive wish for "it" to end has gotten just 5% louder and that pisses me off. Why is it that I do all this work on myself and feel better, but when things go south they still hit rock bottom? Can't I raise my rock bottom?

OCD is just a dark void to me at this point. Just constantly whispering in my ear about how people are going to die and it's my fault. About how avoiding safety compulsions means that I'm a horrible sadistic little thing that WANTS people to die. And then just incessantly repeats these words until I spend an hour undoing all of my "mistakes".

I've thought a lot about weight loss recently. I realize from my time in adolescence where I was restricting that when I feel out of control, I want to control my body and the idea of being skinnier feels within my control. Which it only is to some extent- it's never been a question of simply will power.

And then on one hand, I've learned how to love and cherish my big body. I've never been this confident when I was smaller. I was constantly terrified of being fat, and now that I am I realize it's not that bad. On the other hand, I realized that if someone handed me a pill that would make me a size 4, I would take it without hesitation.

The embarrassment I feel at the idea of going to Europe and being the "fat American" might stop me from ever visiting. That's horrible. I know that shouldn't stop me, and yet it does. I really want to see the cliffs of Moher.

I'm just really tired lately. Physically, mentally, emotionally. I'm tired of thinking my own thoughts.

I post this because it feels nice to put something out into the internet. Like a void to yell into, but the void keeps a little polaroid of my past mental episodes and gives me acknowledgement that the universe heard me. but I do not expect acknowledgement or engagement from people. I can't possibly be alone in this.

[skepticalarrie]

Allie, may I ask you something private? How do you spend your weekends? Do you go out a lot or just stay at home? Do you cook yourself? I am always at home reading or on the internet. I do not like to go out actually, and with lots of youtube vlogs and books I feel like there is no need for me to go abroad on vacation and it is all too much for me now. Also, aging is real, man! I need rest and decent sleep, and it is quite hard to stay fit when you reach certain age. Damn, life is sometimes hard...

Hey, anon! It depends. This past week specifically was super busy for me, I had to go to a bunch of places and see way too many people for my liking so I was so fucking drained, all I wanted to do was to spend the weekend by myself and at home. But there are weekends that I go out more, and see some friends, I also go to visit my parents from time to time.

But I don't really like too hectic weekends because not gonna lie I'm usually very tired and since I don't have loads of time during the week, weekends are also usually when I try to fix everything for the next week, so I need to clean the house, go to the store, cook, etc etc. And just sleep... I totally get you, getting proper sleep is probably the most important thing to compensate for the rest of the week 😅 Besides that, in general, the weekends are reserved for ~me time~ so regardless if I'm staying home or going out I really try to treat myself and make it about something I love. It sounds dumb, but something I've been really enjoying recently is watching tiktok videos on how to spend friday/saturday night alone, there are some lovely tips there that make all the difference. So cooking something different, doing something crafty, some DIY spa night. It's very inspiring, it makes me feel so good and it's not the same as always like reading and watching tv and these kinds of stuff.

During the pandemic, it wasn't too awful for me to be at home and by myself, because I can definitely make myself busy, I'm not exactly a social butterfly. And then when the lockdown was over I felt like I wasn't feeling very good anymore and I couldn't exactly place it?! It took a lot of therapy for me, but I really had to force myself to go out a bit, even if alone, to have a drink or a walk in the park. And my mental health improved SO MUCH when I started doing that, I'm doing so much better now, I feel like I get a bit depressed if I get stuck in my own little world for too long. Everyone is different, of course, but for me it was quite a big deal to do some self-care out of my house and see the "real world" a bit. But yeah... it's not easy, to balance things out! I hope you can find that balance soon, sending you loads of love <3

[revasserium]

this is a short ask becuase i've been mentally drained as well (although my circumstances were not as severe), but i skimmed through the reason why the past few weeks (when i sent my previous ask) was rough and... my condolences. i've been seeing death around my dash a lot, actually. in real life too? i have a friend whose professor's wife died. it's... unnerving. i hope everyone has time to grieve... in the mean time, what's your go to routine/habit to help you through tough times? -- @anonymilk

hi anonymilk <3 i hope you've been well !!! but yes... this summer has been strange and the vibes r def off to say the least u__u

honestly? i drink. LOL not to the point of blacking out but like. i def use wine as a way to like. decompress. which is not the greatest coping mechanism, but i'm working on it LMFAO.

otherwise, the way i turn off my brain is by just marathoning youtube videos? and occasionally doom-scrolling through insta -- i wish i had healthier more "that girl" answers for you. but i am alas, not that girl lsdkjfaosid

the first half of this year was fine, but the 2nd half has just been... rough.

i'm just like so tired every day that i don't even have the energy to write :( and that's been pretty hard as well -- i was so excited to do this 2k milestone event and maybe even dip my toe into kinktober... but yeah at this point i'm lucky if i get to write like once or twice a week :(

[beautifulmysteryme]

Rant

I'm posting this for me only.

This week has been total shit for my steps. I knew once I go off one day, it'll be hard to keep going.

Also, my parents are around(I don't like them, and I really hope they won't be around for the whole month just for the sake of my peace). This month is usually tiring enough for me with school rushing and work being unforgiving. I don't need two draining individuals to add to that.

I also saw my journal at the beginning of the year where I promised myself I'd finally reach my gw this year, but not only did I not do that, I added! 10kg+.

Trying to remedy that this past two months has just brought me back to the weight I was at the beginning of the year. (Btw 12kg is awesome to lose in two months. Let's not let my brain try to erase that ). So, like always, my mental health is crumbling.

Multiple people have seen me this week and told me that I look fatter🙃. Which my brain knows is dumb, but my mind is obviously agreeing with them and constantly berating me.

I have also plateaued these past two weeks, which is the last thing I need since I have a goal for the year's end.

No excuses tho. It's all on me.

My grades plummeting this year is on me.

Having 0 savings is on me.

Gaining weight is on me.

Not being able to pay rent and having to move back home is on me.

All these things make my mental and physical health worse and worse, so I guess even my depression and exhaustion is my fault.

I failed myself, and I know.

Somehow, being self-aware isn't making that better.

My heart is full, and only crying will make me feel better, but I guess my body is also disappointed in me because even tears has refused to come relieve me of this burden.

[ohleander]

7.20.24

Been feeling distinctly terrible these days and it seems to defy logic. I mean, on the outside, everything looks so fine but my mind has felt absolutely awful lately. Mental health down the drain. Depression dialed up to 11 or 12, even. I feel like I've been sleepwalking this entire week and I lay here wanting to feel good, but I just dont. Everything has a negative spin upon it and I feel the weight of my thoughts and the weight of my empty feeling heart so profoundly. Trying to catch up on self care but it feels like a moot point. I try to do it anyway, just in case it helps. Somehow along the way, I no longer trust myself or my thoughts. I'm not sure how to fix this. Usually these clouds go away and I feel fine again after a while. Still, its tough to trudge through these depressive spells. I know that baking in the greenhouse heat hasn't helped but it gets tiresome always monitoring myself and feeling so run down, so tired. Its like simply being awake is overwhelming and living, existing, makes me feel so tired. I cant catch my breath. It feels like more than just my cycle this time. I am definitely off kilter in some ways. I do take it out on those around me, as well, and I end up feeling guilty as hell. I end up frustrated, snippy, mean, thinking terrible intrusive thoughts. Being honest with myself has been painful lately. Its difficult to look at myself and tell myself that I'm fine even through the intrusive thoughts. Its hard to both forgive and its also hard to shed the shame I feel. For someone who has never been raised in any kind of catholic way, I seem to harbor this "inherent suffering"... Is it my karma from past lives? For some reason i always find some kind of strange comfort in my own despair. Its nearly as if I'm young me again, looking at the state of myself currently, kinda judging, not knowing how to help. Present me has gotten into quite a rut and little me shouldn't feel the need to pick up the pieces. Nevertheless, again, I find myself needing help and not knowing how to go about having it. I avoid things that could help me.. I avoid vulnerability. I avoid quite a lot.

LA