#just work and stressing about work and being very mentally unwell

[dilfmobius]

as someone who has literally not engaged with anything fandom related since probably like 2020, someone who basically isolated themselves for years because of mental health reasons, and did nothing but go to work and sleep and wake up and go back to work for 5 years... i'm so proud of myself for writing (and posting!!) fic again and making gifs

and to be completely honest i have the loki series and the lokius fandom to thank for pulling me back in dgfjhsgdf

[lovsome]

i think im gonna ask my therapist to get me an appointment with the private psychiatrist she suggested

[elzdaizy]

Trouble After Paradise (Part 1)

Warnings: lots of angst, conflict, explicit language.

Summary of short story: Reader and Harry have returned from their honeymoon to a harsh reality and their first huge hurdle as a married couple.

A/N: This is 1 of 3 parts. Enjoy! Just a little short story idea i had and wanted to share with you all.

It’s been four weeks since you returned home from your honeymoon in Costa Rica and you’ve found yourself reminiscing constantly on that magical holiday.

To say the least, things have took a turn for the worst since you and Harry got home.

You were bombarded with mountains of piles of work to get through because there was no one to fill your position whilst you’d taken the month off leading up to your wedding, including the honeymoon.

Harry had started filming his next movie, one that was mentally draining due to his character being a very unwell mental patient at a psychiatric hospital.

You worked from seven in the morning until four in the afternoon in the office but always brought home some work to do which kept you busy until about eight at night when you’d get into bed.

Weekends were exhausting as well, you were catching up with friends and family after basically being off the grid throughout the week.

Harry’s shooting location, thankfully, was only a few hours away up north in Manchester so he managed to be home often between breaks but unfortunately meant that he wasn’t home with you for periods of times.

He tries his best to be at home with you on the weekends but his schedule doesn’t work that way all the time. On average you probably see each other a total of two days out of the week and it’s been this way the past four weeks.

You’ve both been so busy, you’ve barely had the time to live life together as a married couple. There’s a tension building full of stress and exhaustion on both ends of your marriage. You find yourselves bickering when you’re together and getting on each other’s nerves more than ever before.

You know it’s because you’re equally annoyed with yourselves and each other with the current situation.

It’s 8pm on a Friday night and Harry called you earlier that morning to let you know he’s coming home today at around 6:30pm and will be able to stay the full week until he’s off again. He asked for you to pick him up from the station because he had booked a meal at The Ivy for 8pm. You of course said yes. You were so excited to hear the news, you felt tears well up in your eyes. “I really can’t wait, I miss you so much.” You replied before you both said your goodbyes and I love you’s before hanging up.

What you didn’t know was that working would be busier than ever that Friday and now you’re still in the office trying to hurry up and finish off one last piece of paper work to be sent off to your client before the weekend. Your phone had died two hours ago and Harry hadn’t contacted you before it died so you weren’t too concerned that he would’ve tried to since then.

You could cry out of frustration. You purposely stayed back to get all this extra work done so you could book off Monday and Tuesday to extend your weekend to spend some time with your husband.

Half an hour later, you finally send the email and pack up your stuff. You race to your car and make your way home. The door is unlocked when you go to turn the key and your heart skips a beat when you realise that Harry must be home.

The lights are all off downstairs which is odd so you make your way upstairs to your bedroom to find Harry sat on the edge of the bed in just his underwear and his phone in his hands.

“Hi, baby.” You softly speak up as you walk through the door and put your bag and coat over the chair in the corner of the room.

Harry glances at you over his shoulder briefly without so much as a tiny acknowledgment of your presence before looking back to his phone.

You frown, thinking his behaviour seems a bit off. The energy in the room seems low and you can sense he’s not in a good mood.

You walk over to him, a hand on his shoulder and the other hand reaching to lift his head by tilting his chin in your direction for him to look up at you. As soon as you try to lean forward to place a kiss to his lips he yanks his head away from your touch and rolls his eyes, letting out a huff.

You step back, very offended and extremely hurt by his cold actions.

“Fuck you, then.” You throw your hands up and storm away to head downstairs to the kitchen. You’re literally trying so hard not to break down and cry right now so you’re pacing around your kitchen, breathing heavily for a few moments then deciding to pour yourself a large glass of wine.

You almost down the first glass. The second one being poured less than five minutes later. You’re just stood by your kitchen island with a glass of wine in one hand and thoughts racing around your mind as you try to figure out why your husband seems to despise you at the moment.

You soon realise it could possibly be the fact that your phone was dead and maybe he was trying to get ahold of you.

You start to feel a pit of guilt in your stomach when you take your phone from your pocket and plug it into the charger point next to your toaster.

You finish your second glass of wine once your phone switches on and your eyes widen when you notice the ten missed calls and five unread messages from Harry.

You read the texts carefully one at a time.

From Harry:

6:09pm - l’m fifteen minutes away from the station if you want to set off now. Love you. Xx

6:30pm - Where are you? I’m waiting near the security box until you’re here. Xx

6:53pm - I’ve rung you five times and you’re not answering so I’m making my own way home now.

7:26pm - Why aren’t you answering and why aren’t you at home? You do realise we have to be at The Ivy in half an hour.

8:03pm - cancelled the booking. If you read this before you come home - don’t bother me when you get in, I can’t be arsed with this tonight.

You heart feels like it’s going to stop. You have never felt more terrible in your life. You feel like a punch to the gut is what you deserve right now and nothing less. And to think, you literally just spat in his face and said fuck you to him, still not realising what you’d done.

You were so fixated on wanting to spend the week with Harry that you’d completely forgotten about picking him up and going out for dinner tonight.

You were a little drunk and very upset with yourself so of course the only thing currently you did was start to cry. You sat on a stool at your island, lent your elbows on the countertop, put your face in your hands and sobbed. Sobbed for your husband and how upset he must be feeling. Sobbed at the realisation of how much you hurt him and let him down. You felt like a failure.

After about thirty minutes of letting your feelings flow out of your system uncontrollably, you composed yourself and prepared yourself to go and apologise profusely. You’d gone over what to say in your head a million times and nothing sounded good enough but you know the least he deserves is an apology rather than an explanation or excuse right now.

Your face is puffy and red from the crying as you shakily walk up the stairs to your room and find Harry is now laying under the covers with the tv on, watching a movie with a deep frown on his face. As if he’s in deep thought rather than paying attention to the screen.

You push the door open gently and let yourself in. Basically walking with your tail between your legs, you can barely look at him as you sit on the bottom corner of the bed on your side. You couldn’t be further away from him on the bed if you tried.

“Harry, I’m so sorry.” You croak. Lips quivering as you fight the urge to break down crying again. You finally look at him after your first attempt at the beginning of a long apology. He’s ignoring you. Keeping his eyes fixed on the screen and his arms crossed over his chest.

You decide to keep speaking, “I completely understand why you’re angry and I don’t want to give myself any excuses for-.”

He reaches for the remote and turns up the volume to drown out your voice.

You let out a shaky sigh. A tear slipping down your cheek. “I didn’t ignore you on purpose- look, can you please just say something?” You beg pathetically and Harry’s head turns as his eyes look at you with anger.

“Told you I can’t be fucked with this tonight just leave me alone, please.” He sighs in annoyance before completely turning his back to you as he lays on his side.

You really don’t know what to say now. You didn’t expect this reaction from him. He’s never been this angry with you before and it’s terrifying you slightly because you really can’t cope with it. You don’t even care if he shouts at this point, you just want more of a reaction from him.

He has every right to feel the way he does, you know that. You hate going to sleep on bad terms though. You both agreed to always resolve conflicts before getting into bed because you never wanted to be that couple that gets into fights and makes one or the other sleep on the sofa.

It seems like it’s going to be that way tonight though. You don’t want to say another word because you don’t want to make it worse. Even though you know you won’t get much sleep, you decide to go sleep downstairs on the couch. You could go sleep in the spare room but you need a tv to distract you from your racing thoughts so the living room it is.

You get up from the bed, go take a quick shower and change into your pyjamas before grabbing your pillow from your side of the bed and walking towards the door.

“Goodnight, Harry. I love you.” You say to him softly before closing the door behind yourself and making your way downstairs.

You turn on a shitty reality show to fall asleep too. It takes a few hours but eventually you drift off.

The next morning you’re awoken by the sound of the blender rattling off in the kitchen. You feel at peace for a split second as your groggy memory clears up as your consciousness comes back, along with the awful events of last night. You grimace start yourself as you sit up on the couch and turn around to see Harry standing in the kitchen, making himself a smoothie, dressed in his running gear.

It mustn’t be any later than 6am because he only likes going running at the crack of dawn. He hasn’t noticed that you’re awake yet but you know he’s still fuming by the look on his face.

Now that you’re not intoxicated and knowing it’s a new day, you’re determined to resolve this issue very soon. You don’t want to waste any more of the short time you two have together for the next four days being bitter.

You get up from the couch and stretch before walking over to the kitchen island and taking a seat on the stool you were sobbing on last night.

“Morning.” You say with a tired voice as Harry still hasn’t acknowledged you whilst he’s cleaning up some dishes. You’re both facing each other on opposite sides of the island.

Harry looks up at you frowning and doesn’t reply so you take it as your queue to go in strong with all guns blazing.

“Can we please talk about this now?” You plead. Harry just deadpans and looks at you with a look that tells you no as he picks up his AirPods and puts them in as he makes his way to the door to go on his run.

“What the actual fuck! This is an actual fucking nightmare.” You frustratingly shout to no one but yourself after Harry closes the door on his way out.

[emersonfreepress]

help i'm alive

So! Long time, no see. 2023 was a whole goddamn lot lol

I don't have a demo update to share yet, but that's because I had to scrap nearly everything I managed to write during a very, very, very bad stint of writer's block last year. I hadn't even realized it had been a block like that until I went over my work so far last month and realized it was bad -- like, trust me; a slog to read that didn't even sound like me. It's been extremely frustrating but I've finally broken free of that and it's been easy and actually fun to write again for the first time in actual years. I just hate giving updates that have no actual news in them. And I really had nothing to share other than: I deleted thousands of words and feel so much better now 😅

Anyway, little about my demo plans have changed: I'm still putting out the Chapter 3 demos in Choicescript/on Dashingdon and then will be going dark to move things over to Twine. Where I am in the process right now is... feeling like 35% done with the overhauled version of this chapter and 50% done for the next demo update.

As far as asks, I'm... not really sure what to do?? I believe I've read them all (I love you guys), but so much time has passed since getting most of them that I'm not sure if it's, like... still pertinent??? To go back and answer them?? I suppose some of them like character asks could be, but all the nice messages of support -- that feels weird since I've practically ghosted this blog since August! Idk. Y'all tell me what to do with 'em and I'll do it. Maybe I should make a poll.

Uh... that's really all there is to say regarding the game! I've added some personal stuff after the cut, but if you're done here: Thanks for reading and sticking around. It means the world, for real.

So what has occupied my time all this time? Doctor, therapy, money, and friends. And improv! But especially the first two. There was a lot of non-writing related stuff fucking up my ability to focus and write, so hopefully with my mind and body both feeling a lot better, I can get back to being present and active with the game. I didn't realize how physically unwell I was until last year and it's been like... life-long issues I've been treating. It turns out it's not normal to feel exhausted enough to sleep at any given time, at all times, for your whole life! wow!!

I also uninstalled Tumblr from my phone back in February, so you could say I'm sort of generally focused on offline life. (And what an interesting coincidence that my writer's block dissipated shortly after that...) I also just moved!! The last two weekends have been so expensive and stressful -_- But I can't even compare the old place to the new. We're basically paying the same price for idek how much more space. The cats are so happy; which means the house humans get to be happy.

My schedule is finally freed up from constant medical shit (there was a 3-month stretch this winter with multiple doctor appointments literally every fucking week 🙃🙃🙃). My mental health is doing a lot better -- literally incomparably better compared to where I was this time last year. There's live comedy now (which I dabble in, to be clear lol), but I've finally found myself able to like... balance it all. The physical and creative energy that goes into it all, anyway. The lovely thing about improv is that you kinda just show up and do your thing -- it doesn't cut into my writing time so much as it costs energy. Unless I end up in this comedy debate show thing next month, which I am very excited to give up writing time for

So like... Life is life-ing and I'm just vibing. Or something? I'll be around.

Thank you all again so much for your interest, support, patience, and readership <3

[goldenempyrean]

I Missed You

〚 Pairing- Natasha Romanoff x Reader 〛

〚 Notes - Currently working on the BeachHouse AU but I wanted to get this out first! Enjoy some sad and weepy Nat :p 〛

〚 Summary - You're off on a mission when Nat starts to feel unwell. And even with her bestfriend at her side, Nat's finding it hard to be alone when she gets sick for the first time in years. 〛

〚 Wordcount - 2100 〛

〘 Check Out My Masterlist! 〙

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“Are you sure you’re meant to be working right now?” Clint asked casually as he strolled into the kitchen, raising his eyebrows at the woman slumped over a pile of paperwork at the table. 

Natasha looked up at him, her eyes tired and glassy. She tried to give him a reassuring smile, but it came out more like a grimace. "I'm fine," she said, her voice hoarse and cracking, “We both have some much work to do, shouldn’t you be getting your own work done instead of pestering me.”  

“God you’re crabby today, aren't you? And for your information, I’ve already got mine done. It’s easy to concentrate on it when you don’t have a head packed with snot.” He teased and smirked at the disgusted look which grossed her face. 

“You’re gross.” She sniffled thickly – he wasn’t exactly wrong though. She’d woken up feeling a little off a few days ago, there was that lingering soreness at the back of her throat that didn’t quite go away even after getting some water, but she’d put it down to being a little stressed. 

But much to her annoyance, she’d only felt worst throughout the day until she eventually woke up this morning feeling truly awful. But there wasn’t much she could do about that now. All she could do was try to focus and get her work done. 

Clint only shook his head as he began to search the kitchen cupboards for cereal, “Don’t you think you should atheist take a break?” He suggested as he started pouring multiple different kinds of cereal into one bowl. 

“I don’t need too,” She mumbled before quickly bringing her hands to her face when she sneezed loudly, groaning a little afterwards at the pain it’d caused in her throat, “I’ll live.” 

“Well, I’d be more intitled to listen to you if I weren’t terrified of what your girlfriend would do to me if they find out that I’ve let you work while sick.” Clint fake shuddered whilst simultaneously nudging the tissue box at the end of the table closer towards her, earning himself another eyeroll from her.  

But behind that sarcastic front Nat couldn’t help but feel a pang of misery, she missed you so much. Unfortunately, being an Avenger often meant having to go off on solo missions and while the two of you usually made it work, Nat couldn’t help but miss you more than usual. All she wanted was to be cuddled in your arms as you whispered sweet nothings into her hair. But alas, here she was, sick and feeling so very alone. 

Clint noticed the change in her demeanour and sighed softly, “Hey, I know it’s tough, but you can’t keep pushing yourself like this. You need to take care of yourself, and I’m sure your girlfriend would want that too.” He said while mentally kicking himself – he’d been so caught up in his own work that he hadn't even noticed how much Nat was struggling until it was too late. He made a mental note to check in on her more often in the future, to make sure she wasn't feeling overwhelmed or overworked. 

Natasha nodded slowly, her eyes drifting towards the tissue box. She knew he was right, but she hated feeling weak and vulnerable. “I know,” she said softly, “But I just feel so useless when I’m not doing something productive.” 

Clint walked over to her and placed a hand on her shoulder, mentally noting the heating radiating from her bare skin, “You’re not useless, Nat. Sometimes rest and recovery is the most productive thing you can do. And trust me, Y/N would much rather have you healthy and happy than sick and miserable.” 

She sighed, knowing he was right. “I just miss them so much,” she admitted, her voice barely above a whisper, “I haven’t been sick in years and the first time I do, they’re not even here.” 

It wasn't just the sickness that was making her feel this way. It was the fact that you weren't here with her. You were always her rock, her safe haven, and without you, she felt lost and adrift. You’d been the first person there to comfort her during the blip, the first person to stand by her after taking down the Red Room. You’d always been there. And while this definitely wasn’t the first time she’d been away from you; this was the first time it’d ever made her feel this lonely. 

Clint squeezed her shoulder gently, “I know you do. But you’ll see them soon enough, they’re meant to be home later tonight, aren’t they? I'll get Jarvis to set an alert for their arrival but for now, let’s focus on getting you feeling a bit better, yeah?” 

Natasha nodded and reached for a tissue, blowing her nose loudly. Clint chuckled, “That’s the spirit. Now, how about I make us some tea and we can sit down and go through this paperwork together?” 

However, as Clint went to turn on the kettle, he noticed the increase in her sniffles and turned around. His heart sank as he saw the silent tears running down her cheeks as Nat held her head in her hands, seemingly unable to think of anything other than you.  

Forgetting the tea, he quickly hurried over to her, sitting down and pulling her into a tight hug, his worry only increasing as he felt the small shivers running down her arms as Nat leaned began to sob against him, “I-I'm sorry,” she muttered, “I’m being ridiculous, but all I can do is think about then and that they’re not here and they could be out there hurt somehow on their mission and I wouldn’t know because I-” 

“Shh, Natty.” Clint soothed quietly, rubbing her back gently as her sobs continued, “If Y/N was ever hurt on a mission, we’d know instantly. Jarvis has their vitals always monitored. They’re okay Natasha, now I know you don’t feel well so we need to get this fever down, it’s only going to make you feel worst.” 

“There’s fever patches in the fridge...” Nat mumbled through her sniffles so quietly that Clint almost missed it entirely, “Vision made me put some in there earlier.” 

  Clint nodded, mentally thanking Vision for his wisdom. He continued to hold Nat for a little longer before slowly releasing her, swiping a handful of tissues and pressing them into her hand so she could clean up her face a little, "I'll get them for you and finish off that tea. I want you to pack this stuff away," He said, his fatherly tone seeping into his words, "No arguments this time. Pack it away, you're not working anymore. That's final." 

After receiving a small nod, Clint went to search through the fridge before finding the small packet and setting it on the side as he re-boiled the kettle to make some tea – making sure to add in a generous squirt of honey. He knew how tough it was for Natasha to admit weakness or vulnerability and seeing her break down like that made him realise just how much she was struggling. By the time he’d finished making the tea though, Nat had cleaned up the table a little, her piles of paperwork sitting neatly in one small stack whilst she sank down a little into her chair, muffling a chesty sounding cough into her elbow. 

Mentally grimacing at the sound of her rattling chest, Clint placed the tea down in front of her, "There you go," He offered a comforting smile to his partner, "hopefully that will help your throat a bit. Now I know you’re not going to like this, but do you think you’d like to go lay down for a few hours? I’ll finish up your work for you.” 

Natasha gave a weak nod, her eyes looking a little watery once again as she took a sip of her tea, "Thank you, Clint. I'm sorry for being such a mess," she murmured, her voice hoarse and strained from her coughing. 

Clint shook his head, placing a gentle hand on her shoulder, "You don't need to apologize for being sick, Nat. We all get like this sometimes," he reassured her, "Now go lay down, get some rest. I'll take care of everything." 

With that, Natasha slowly stood up from her chair, wobbling slightly as she did so. Clint quickly moved to steady her, keeping a hand on her shoulder to keep her steady. "Easy now," he murmured, "Don't overdo it." 

Natasha gave him a weak smile as he led her towards her bedroom, her steps slow and unsteady. Once they reached her room, Clint helped her to sit down on the bed before tucking her in with a soft blanket. "Get some rest," he said, his voice gentle, "I'll come check on you in a little bit. I’ll make sure no one disturbs you." 

On his way out of her room Clint couldn't help but feel a pang of sadness in his heart as he thought about you, wherever you were, and how much Nat missed you. He knew he couldn't replace you, but he would do his best to take care of Nat in your absence. Instead he’d concentrate on getting her work done so the two of you would have nothing to worry about except each other when you finally got back. 

〘✧✧✧〙 

The sky was dark by the time you’d finally gotten home that night. The compound was quiet, most of the agents had left for the day and most people were already in bed so it was safe to say you were surprised to come into the kitchen to see Clint sitting over the table, eating pasta as he stared down at the files in front of him. 

“Hey.” You called out quietly, seemingly startling him a little. 

“Y/N!” His face lit up instantly as he got up from the table, coming over to hug you, “You’re back finally, thank god.” 

You’d be lying if you said his reaction didn’t puzzle you a little though, “Yeah, sorry the flight back took a little longer than expected, is everything alright? Oh, have you seen Nat too by the way? I texted her to tell her I was home, but I think her phones dead or something.” 

Clint pulled away from the hug, his brow furrowed with concern. "Nat's not feeling so well actually. She's got the flu I think, she’s probably sleeping still." He gestured to the files on the table. "I’ve just been doing her paperwork. She really missed you while you were away Y/N, like really missed you.” 

“I’ll go check on her then,” You sighed, hating that you weren’t here to take care of her, you knew Nat rarely got sick and whenever she did, it usually hit her hard, “Thank you though,” You said genuinely, giving Clint an appreciative smile, “Thanks for looking out for her.” 

“It's no problem. Nat’s important to me, I wasn’t going to just sit there while she suffered. She’s going to be so happy to see you.” Clint nodded, before going over to the table to pick up his bowl of pasta, “I'm gonna head to bed soon now thpugh, I’ll finish that in the morning.” 

“Goodnight Clint.” You gave him a final smile before hurrying off in the direction of your bedroom. 

As you reached your room, you made sure to quietly open the door, not wanting to startle her. But once the light flooded the room, letting you see the outline of your girlfriend, your heart sank. Nat was curled up beneath the blankets in one of your hoodies as she tightly hugged one of your favourite stuffed animals. Even in the dim light, you could see the dark red grasp of a fever clutching to her cheeks.  

Not wanting to disturb her more than necessary, you silently got changed out of your suit into some comfy thin pyjamas before gently climbing in bed next to the sleeping widow. You’d intended to not wake her up but despite your best efforts, the redhead stirred a little as you settled down into the duvet. 

“Shh, baby, It’s okay now. I’m here, okay?” You whispered quietly, as Nat sleepily shuffled up into your hold, welcoming your touch as you pulled her close against your chest. 

“I missed you.” Her raspy voice barely louder than a whisper before sleep pulled her back down into its hands. 

“I missed you too moya lyubov',” You murmured softly, “I’m here now, okay? And I'm going to look after you.” 

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[witchexia]

Every person on this earth is full of great possibilities, that can be realized through imagination, effort and preseverance. -Scott Barry Kaufmann. Ψ

(SIMON GLASS BACKSTORY/LORE) The stars glistened in the sky on July 14th, 1990, as Simon Glass was brought to the world, awaiting an eventful life. Growing up, his parents had always mentioned the Foundation. What is the Foundation? He was told he would know if he was older. That question always lingered in his mind. He would know. At the ages of 14, he has stumbled upon the question of his future - To become what? Psychology's always been interesting for him, since he has always read books on psychology and had only good intentions to helping people. Another reason for this psychology career choice was, because, both of his parents were psychologically unwell. It pained him to see them in such torment. All he wanted was to help people from such misery, and to prevent others potentially going too far. A few years later, in college, Simon is working for his psychology PhD. Though, he has had an interest in joining the Army. He had always seen photos of his dad in tactical gear, so he assumed his dad fought in the military. Though, it didn't really look like your average tactical gear. His dad had strange emblems on his uniform in the pictures, what looks like two circles with three arrows. He has joined the Army at age 20. Basic training in the Army wasn't that horrible for him, so he passed with flying colors. He was now an Army soldier, for three years. Then, his dad had invited him for a little talk. ''Simon, good to see you in one piece, hah.'' He chuckled, looking at his son. ''Have you always wondered, what the Foundation was?'' ''Yes, I remember you telling me that I would know if I was older.'' Simon said, looking around, spotting someone in a suit in the distance. ''Great. I'm just gonna tell you this: Don't. Tell. Anyone. Else. About. This. The Foundation deals with supernatural beings, essentially ''containing them. We've been trying to hide these beings from the public eye.'' ''Huh? Is this a joke?'' Simon said, noticing the person with a suit taking a seat on the couch across him, next to his dad. ''No, Simon. Me and my partner want to give you an offer: a field agent in the Foundation. You see, I've worked the same job as this, but I have retired. It's best in your interest that you think about this for a while.'' The dad then looks up from the ground at him. Then, it all went by fast. Simon now had a job at the SCP Foundation, to be a field agent. This was alot more stressful than his job at the Army. He had to be way more careful, because he wasn't dealing with regular things. He also had to be way more vigilant, because whatever him and his buddies were following, it was not human, and it knew where they were. 4 years into this whole field agent job, something happened. While tracking an anomaly down, it unexpectedly attacked Simon, causing him to have an injury in his hand, vision and hearing problems. This was a huge healing journey for Simon, not only physically, but mentally aswell. After this, Simon retired from field work, and pursued his main dream in life: to become a psychologist. Luckily, with his psychology PhD, and a psychologist needed in Site-17, this was his call. He has spent the next 8 years in psychology, eventually getting a huge promotion, as Head of Psychology. Simon Glass was known to be very kind, gentle and empathetic to everyone, including the anomalies. He has access to every humanoid anomaly's file, ranging from Safe to Euclid, to some Keter anomalies. He has helped countless people and anomalies get past their biggest burdens. He wasn't a corrupt psychologist or a Foundation worker, at all, he really just wanted to help people. That was his duty. Most people or anomalies with free roam go to him for comfort, he has always had a soft and fatherly aura. And so he continues his psychology work, continuing to help.

''Even the greatest minds can be shattered by the enigma of the anomalous.'' - Dr. Simon Glass

[1moremilgram-enjoyer]

MeMe and Control over One's Own Destiny

Alright I've been holding off on talking about Mikoto until Double releases, but I saw he was on a train and my brain went Silly. Don't you understand how crazy the symbolism is?! (<- Mentally unwell)

So now I have to talk about how MeMe handles the concept of destiny and the control the alters have on the system's future, because it's honestly so interesting to me.

CW Murder

Disclaimer: I'm not an expert on DID, feel free to correct me if I get anything wrong

The first big connection between MeMe and the idea of destiny is obviously the recurring theme of tarot cards. These are used for divination, meaning the practice of trying to learn about the future through supernatural means. In other words, they're deeply tied to the concept of destiny, of future events that will come to affect us, and the ways we may influence it. What's important to take away here is that, regardless of whether or not you believe in it, reading tarot cards is a way for people to try to understand their future so they can take try to take control of it.

Once you make this little connection, a lot of the imagery in MeMe starts to get interesting. To give you an example, one of the opening shots is of a bunch of tarot cards all scattered in water.

So, their future is scattered, it's uncertain, it's messy, etc. You get the idea, I don't think I need to elaborate on why Mikoto's life is a bit of a mess.

However, I think there are two scenes which are particularly interesting in this regard. When Aokoto (host) draws a blank card in the first chorus, and when he gathers the cards in the deck at the start of the third chorus.

So first, we can be sure this is Aokoto because the lyrics not only use 'boku', but also express confusion at the situation, which only really fits the host.

Why am I [boku] here? It must be a mistake? Take a good look at me [boku], until you find me The truth will come to reveal itself I won't forgive you if this is happening to me even though I'm right

Why am I [boku] here? It must be a mistake? Take a good look at me [boku], until you find me

(Note: If there is no clarification on which pronoun is used when I put lyrics here, it's because the Japanese doesn't actually use any pronouns)

What's happening here? As stated, the tarot cards are a representation of destiny and their future. By drawing a tarot card, Aokoto is trying to understand his situation and destiny better. And by stacking the deck up neatly, he's trying to take control of his destiny, of his future. The desire to be free and be able to control his life is a very important part of Aokoto's character:

(T1) Q14: What will you be doing in 10 years? M (Ao): I'd like to work independently and make my own design company. That way I'm free to do what I want.

(T1) Q8: What are your reasons for wanting to work for your current job? M (Ao): I work at an advertising company that's at the top of the business world, you know? Just being able to get to that position is something to be proud of. I worked really hard to get hired there, too.

Aokoto places high value on the work he's done, because that shows how committed he is to having control over his life and his job.

(T1) Q12: How do you get to work? M (Ao): I ride a road bike. It's a hobby of mine, and it's good to exercise too. I don't need to worry about missing the train, but that can either be a good or bad thing.

I've seen this answer interpreted a few different ways, but personally I believe what Aokoto's implying is that the freedom of not having to rely on the train is both good and bad. Essentially, he doesn't have to stress about missing it, but there's also no guarantee that he'll get to work in time without the reliability of the train. However, he still prefers the bike, because it gives him more freedom.

... Foreshadowing is a narrative device-

There's also the matter of the tarot spreads which appear in that "blank card" scene. There are two distinct ones:

Now, the whole mess is too complicated to get into here (and I actually am holding off from analysis until we get extra context from Double for that reason), but I believe one of these spreads belongs to Aokoto, and the other belongs to Midokoto (Secret Third gatekeeper alter). Which is which doesn't matter, because the card I want to focus on is the card in the "Hopes and Fears" position (EXTREMELY long story), which is I - The Magician (upright) in both of them. The Magician represents (among a fuckton of other things because tarot cards are frustratingly ambiguous by design) power, potential, basically the ability to achieve your goals. Thus, in the "Hopes and Fears" position, it would mean Aokoto wants to be able to control his life and fulfill his potential, and is afraid he might not be able to.

There is also the "Present" or "Self" card being the reversed XII - The Hanged Man. The Hanged Man upright represents (among other things) patience, the hope that as long as everything continues the same, things will turn out okay. Thus, reversed, it could be read as implying the querent is trying their best to change their situation, but are failing at it.

And this is where we get to the second part of the scenes I pointed out before. Because when Aokoto draws a card by itself, it's a blank card. In other words, no matter how much he wants to, Aokoto doesn't have full control of his future. I mean, obviously, right? He himself can't control his destiny when the other alters are also doing pretty impactful stuff. Depending on what theories you subscribe to, he may have ended up in Milgram without even murdering anyone, which is what I believe.

The same can be seen when he tries to put the deck back together. You might notice the deck there is actually thinner than the other time we see it.

He tries to "fix" or "arrange" his future, but he's "playing with half a deck", he's only half in control of his future. In this metaphor, the other alter(s) would have the rest of the deck, would control the rest of the system's destiny. Does that make sense?

Which gets us to the other alter who does tarot reading.

Notice the red mannequin there? The way 0 - The Fool's pouch of food is now a skull? And you can see this alter, heavily implied to be Orekoto, reads a Celtic cross spread with the Fool in the "querent" or "present" position.

Thus, The Fool represents Orekoto, and he too desires control over their future. That's why he's reading the spread, the same way Aokoto previously tried to draw a card to check his future. And I think it's pretty safe to say Orekoto must have killed or attacked at least one person, which is his way of trying to secure a better future for the system. Protector alter and all that.

[Timelines] Mikoto (Ao): Can you hear me talking like this? If you can hear me, then answer me. Why are you doing such horrible things? Hey. It's your fault things have become like this. ……Answer me!! Mikoto (Ore): Ah, ahhh!! Because, I did it for my/your (Boku's) sake…! Because I/you (Boku-ga) would break apart!!

(Translation by Maristelina)

Plus all the other reasons to believe that.

That spread is a bit odd for many reasons, but one thing we can pretty much be sure of is Orekoto's "Hopes and Fears" are represented by VII - The Chariot.

The Chariot (among other things) represents strength of will and control, basically think of it as a more forceful version of The Magician. Thus, Orekoto also hopes he can take control of their life, though he does it through force, and he fears he might be getting too forceful.

If I could laugh, if I could go back I'd play dead even though I'm alive right? If I could end, if I could stop How long would this dream go on?

Assuming it is Orekoto singing here (no pronouns so), it seems he doesn't want to kill, but sees himself cornered, like he has to kill. If he could stop, he'd "go back and play dead even while alive", he wouldn't kill anymore. But when he feels "boku will fall apart", he tries to save him through any means he can, which is likely murder. The exact reasons are as of yet unknown (someone stalking them, stress, could be a lot of things), but that's the idea.

However, you tarot enthusiast might notice a few interesting differences between this Chariot card and the actual Chariot card. This is important, because the meaning of these cards comes from the images, so when the image differs (apart from stylistic choices obvs), the meaning differs with it.

First important difference: the real Chariot has lions, MeMe's Chariot has bikes. This again relates bikes to the idea of freedom and one's own will.

Foreshadowing is-

Second; MeMe's Chariot has the protagonist swinging around a mace, which the real Chariot just has a wand. I frankly don't think this means anything other than MeMe's Chariot explicitly references murder rather than other, non-physical forms of strength and force.

Third, an important part of the real Chariot is that the man doesn't hold a leash on the lions, he controls them through force of will, apparently. Meanwhile, the mannequin in MeMe's version does hold chains to control the bikes, which again I believe simply implies a more forceful and direct version of the meaning. Orekoto doesn't trust his destiny to guide the system in the right direction as long as they're strong enough, he feels he needs to have more direct control.

And finally, the lions in the real Chariot are fine, but in MeMe's version, one of the bikes is fucking exploding.

So what the hell is up with that? Well, let's keep in mind what I said before. Aokoto also wants control of his life. So I believe in a way these bikes represent Aokoto and Orekoto's actions. One of them Orekoto has direct control over (he controls his own actions, after all), while the other is getting hurt by Orekoto's control. Orekoto may want nothing more than to protect the system, but the way he does it is harmful to Aokoto and destroys the control he wants to have over their life. I mean, it landed them in Milgram (according to some interpretations), and it's not like Aokoto likes the murder.

(T1) Q6: Tell us what you hate. M (Ao): Staying up all night working / reptiles / violence

[Double Preview] Hey now, I [ore] saved you right? So why in the hell are you crying?

(I will use the preview as evidence, watch me)

Temporary CW for abusive relationships and rape (Mono Poisoner)

This idea of "love" that hurts the other is also implied by Mono Poisoner, their Trial 1 cover. Though to be clear, Orekoto is not anywhere near as awful as the protagonist of Mono Poisoner, since he isn't intentionally hurting the rest of the system, and obviously isn't actually abusing the other alter(s).

“She belongs completely, entirely to me!” Kissing, sleeping together, everything beyond that too No one can hope to cut this connection between us

After brandishing that poisonous desire to monopolize and having erased YOU completely, It seems like it can be easily embraced, the entirety of that heart “YOU best not get carried away!”

Taking out the really violent and abusive elements out, this does vaguely fit the idea I'm trying to get across.

Temporary CW over

Anyways, the point is that Orekoto wants control over their life, but is accidentally harming Aokoto by taking away his agency.

There is more symbolism of this ‘drive to control destiny’ in the moon which consistently appears throughout MeMe.

As you can see, it’s in the first quarter phase. This is halfway between the New Moon which represents the beginning of a journey and the Full Moon which represents the end or rebirth, and because of that, it can represent a difficult time where decisions must be made, a point where strength of will is necessary. This again fits both of Aokoto and Orekoto, since they’re both making important decisions for their future. Hence also why the moon is half and half, the future is being decided half by Aokoto, half by Orekoto.

Alternatively, you could read it as only Orekoto making decisions, with the other 'half' being "left in the dark" because Aokoto doesn't know what Ore's doing. That would explain why the moon only shows up in relation to Orekoto in the internal world and the murder scenes.

Heavy speculation incoming (more than before anyways)

But hold on a second. I said before the upright Hanged Man, the card on Mikoto's shirt through most of MeMe, is about patience and not doing anything to change their situation. This is somewhat contradictory to The Fool, which is all about new opportunities and taking new risks (long story), and is obviously contradictory to the reversed Hanged Man because that's how tarot cards work. Because of that, and everything else I've been saying, it feels like the upright Hanged Man doesn't really fit either Aokoto or Orekoto.

Which is why it's so convenient we have a third (plot-relevant, there may be more) alter who does want their life to continue as is, isn't it?

The minus energy that I swallowed Hugged me [boku] Maybe it's okay to try to keep on living Split in half, Make that heart beat

This scene is very clearly connected to the aftermath of a murder, and shows an alter that has accepted the "negative (minus) energy" of violence. However, the use of 'boku' rules out Orekoto as the singer. Thus, we have ourselves our favorite Secret Third Alter, Midokoto. And Midokoto says, filling in the blanks, that ‘maybe it’s okay to keep living [like this]’, as long as they ‘split in half’ to ‘make that heart beat.’

Before we continue, I have to address that yes, I believe Midokoto is represented by the upright Hanged Man, even though he’s the only alter who’s never seen wearing the shirt. Either his back is turned, he’s shirtless, or straight up has a completely different shirt. However, I actually think this makes perfect sense.

It’s widely accepted that if Midokoto exists, he’s likely a gatekeeper alter who co-fronts most of the time, meaning he’s still aware of everything that’s happening even while he isn’t controlling the body (<- simplified version, read more if you’re interested [alter roles] [co-fronting]). Therefore, he’s a constant in Mikoto’s life, and it makes sense for him to always be present in some way as long as any alter is on screen. He’s on the shirt when the other two are there, so when the shirt isn’t there, it’s because the ‘upright Hanged Man’ is the one controlling the body. Does that make sense?

I should note, Mikoto’s version of The Hanged Man includes a bunch of eyes on the background.

Which fits the idea of Midokoto overseeing everything in the others’ lives, and for the inverse in Aokoto’s case could also be interpreted as societal pressure, long story.

Yes, Midokoto's celtic cross spread has the reversed Hanged Man in the middle of The Wheel, but let’s just say that means ‘present’ rather than ‘querent.’ Yes, there’s a Fool portrait in the background of that one scene, I swear there’s an explanation but it’s too long to get into here.

Point is, he’s the one who wants their life to continue as is, and thus the one who fits the idea of ‘patience’ that The Hanged Man (upright) embodies.

But make no mistake. He still has The Magician as his “Hopes and Fears” in the spread which represents him, meaning he does yearn for some control and fears not having the means to achieve it.

However, I believe the type of control he’s looking for is different from the other two. See, while Aokoto wants freedom and control over his life in a more conventional way (good job, free movement, independence), and Orekoto wants control in a ‘no one will stop “I/you” from achieving what “I/you” want’ kinda way (aka safety), Midokoto wants control over the system, not the rest of their life. He wants to keep Aokoto and Orekoto ‘split in half’ because that’s how they can both live as they please, it ‘makes their heart beat.’

That’s why the moon that represents decision-making is split in half. That’s why there’s only two bikes in The Chariot card. That’s why Midokoto never bothers to read a single tarot card. Because the ones deciding where their life moves are Aokoto and Orekoto, all Midokoto does is keep things running smoothly. Though of course, this is all just my interpretation.

In fact, you can even tell based on what we believe each alter to do. Aokoto does the day-to-day work, making sure he has the opportunity to achieve his dream of working independently in the future. Orekoto deals with threats until the system as a whole is safe, which includes throwing away evidence so they don't get arrested. He does a dogshit job at it, yeah, but he's trying.

However, once they get into the apartment, when the external threats have been dealt with, the one who bathes to make sure Aokoto doesn't learn of Orekoto's actions, the one who keeps their lives metaphorically 'split in half', is Midokoto.

Heavy speculation kinda over

So, where were we? I said this was inspired by the Double thumbnail, didn’t I? Well, yes, even if I have very little to say about it in relation to this post. You could say I kinda, uh, went off the rails a bit (<- I am immensely unfunny)

As I said, he’s on a train. And with all the stuff I mentioned before about how bikes are associated with freedom for him and stuff, it makes the imagery of being stuck on a train with the victims (I assume that’s what the mannequins represent, I’ve seen other interpretations) a lot more interesting.

Think about it. When you get on a train, you made the decision to enter it, but you don’t have control over where it goes. And that’s what’s happening here: the alter on screen is in for the ride, and he feels there’s nothing he can do to alter the course. It’s like a railroad.

Aokoto didn’t get on this train. Obviously the scene is metaphorical (otherwise who left their mannequins in the goddamn public train), but we know Aokoto doesn’t use the train. However, he’s on it now, alongside Orekoto who is probably the one fronting here? I assume, given the red light in the background. In my mind it would make sense for the thumbnails to be Aokoto T1 -> Orekoto T2 -> Midokoto T3, but that doesn’t have to be the case.

What I’m trying to convey is the symbolism of the system being stuck in a set path, a set destiny, caused by a decision not made by Aokoto. And if Orekoto is really the one fronting or being represented here, he’s miserable because of the path his actions have landed him on.

If I could break it, if I could change Can I do it, I wonder from when I started to give up

He’s ‘given up’ because he’s accepted he’s ‘on the train’, his path is already set and he can’t change it (“if I could change”). Yes, give me that Orekoto angst!

Anyways, please keep in mind this is all my interpretation of the symbolism and all of this is extremely subjective, especially with how confusing Mikoto's entire story is. I hope you forgive my brainrot at seeing a guy take a train. Take care!

[cherryblossomforest]

I woke up from a nightmare and I'm actually concerned about my mental health.

I need to start taking my mental health more seriously, not that I wasn't before but I need to do so much better. I am so scared of losing touch with reality, since I was younger that anxiety has been there, and then I watched Shutter Island and my brain has been more fearful since. I've accepted I am unwell due to things like my depression, having dissociated parts and experiencing hologram-like flashbacks because of my PTSD. But it's like I'm setting myself up to fail even more. I'm setting myself up to become more and more "unwell" and that's what needs to stop. I think part of feeling so unwell has been talking about my OCD thought processes too. I've been talking to my cousin and friends about how it feels like my thoughts are directly responsible for the fate of those around me and myself. I know that comes under magical thinking and thought neutralising and finally talking about that makes me scared I'm going crazy. Very similar to how bad my anxiety was when Dead Brother died and I thought that I caused it because I told others what he had done. I have to keep reminding myself that I do not wield that power and talking about it all will not make me go crazy but get me the help I deserve. At times I feel like talking about it will make me go crazy and then I need to seek reassurance that I'm actually okay which now that I'm typing this all out might just be part of the OCD. But regardless I need to do better for myself.

I often don't get enough sleep or sleep at the completely wrong time, I don't drink enough water and drink so much alcohol. I go weeks to months at times without seeing people and only speak to people on my phone. I don't eat enough either and arguably these are all things and behaviours from struggling with my mental health which isn't wrong but it isn't helping either. I can't afford to be losing my mind by myself at home. There is so much more I could be doing and I'm not saying it'll be easy but I can start with seeing Someone once a week. Unless I'm talking to someone on my phone I'm talking to my cat or myself and yeah that's bad! I should be leaving my house a minimum of twice a week anyway and I don't but I really need to.

I get these moments where I am so stressed out that it's like I'm on 100 and I feel I have all this energy not in the sense that I'm doing 101 things, but it just feels like my brain can't stop to think because then it'll be faced with a bunch of flashbacks and trauma memories so it keeps me going and going and going to not have a chance to think. I actively need to tell myself to stop and calm down because thinking about things won't kill me. I know at times it feels like remembering will but it won't but carrying on like this is just exacerbating my mental health.

I think I need to get out of the house, and I know this is severely limited because of my fibro but even just sitting in a cafe close to home during school hours can be enough. I need to stop being so alone all the time because it's not healthy and I can feel my brain slipping. I'm way too comfortable being isolated at home and nothing good comes from that! I don't even take a walk outside I'm always just stuck indoors and yeah no. There has never been a period where I have been home consistently for this long. I went from school to college to working full time and this only stopped because of the accident. It's understandable but it's making my mental health so much worse.

I also need to do everything in my power to get my medication for my sleep sorted out. It doesn't help that taking new meds scares me and that I'm sensitive to taking things but regardless not sleeping is not helping. At all. Lack of sleep makes my mental health dip like crazy and it does so very quickly. I need to get my sleep sorted and I know I'm writing this at 4am but that's the whole problem. I can't even take the medication I have because of alcohol (a vodka bottle that I've now poured down the sink) and that's where everything gets messy. Idk what the point of this post was except getting it out of my mind but I just know that I can't and don't want to carry on like this.

[pillow-anime-talk]

really funny!s/o.

request @cadetsfanfictionblog12​: hi there, i’m luna, i saw that requests are open may i request headcannons for hifumi, doppo and sasara with an funny s/o?

# tags: headcanons; current relationships; light romance; fluff; comedy; jokes; kisses; sfw

includes: gender neutral reader ft. hifumi izanami, doppo kannonzaka & sasara nurude {hypmic}

author’s note: hiii, luna! thank you for your request!

— HIFUMI

↘ Hifumi loves your humor and whenever he has a bad time, he comes to talk to you and listen to your pretty voice. In addition to being his mental support and the person whose advice always goes to his heart, you are also his spiritual helper and you make his moments of uncertainty or stress disappear with yours laughter and a few innocent jokes.

↘ You’re definitely a master of situational jokes and you love making silly faces that only make Hifumi die laughing and fall in love with you even more.

↘ I think you’re the funny half of the two of you. Hifumi also tries to make up or repeat the jokes he hears from others, but definitely no one (even him) can beat you.

↘ And even if someone tried to do it, you have even better stories up your sleeve that the world is definitely afraid to hear.

— DOPPO

↘ You can’t joke well with Doppo, because you don’t want him to take things personally, so instead of stupid anecdotes and remarks, you just try to make his time better with stupid riddles or crazy stories in which you are the main character.

↘ Your boyfriend appreciates it a lot and always gives a little smile when you say something funny or really stupid. You also often try to cheer him up with silly memes or funny pictures, which fortunately he understands most of the time.

↘ And in the worst cases, when your boyfriend is really mentally unwell or doesn’t want to meet people even his friends or family, you just send him your own photos that instantly cheer him up. You often decorate them with stickers or additional text, and that’s enough to put a sincere, though shy, smile on his gloomy but sweet face.

↘ No matter what you tell him or send him via phone, or record with your front camera, the man really loves it and it makes work, a lonely evening in his own apartment, and even a failed performance a little less sad for him.

— SASARA

↘ The young comedian never thought he’d ever meet someone whose humor was similar or even identical to his own. For Sasara, it was... a huge shock.

↘ He was very impressed the first time he went to your show with his two male friends. Your stand up show made the whole audience laugh and then even brought a slight smile to the faces of the Dotsuitare Hompo members. After the show, he got into your private locker room, and there you exchanged your phone numbers and also talked about performing together.

↘ And so after a few weeks you not only worked together, but also lived together in a relationship full of romance and also laughter, jokes. You loved doing silly antics to your boyfriend, and Sasara liked it when you listened to his next show schedule and helped him come up with funny situations.

↘ People valued you not only for being a good duo, but above all for your extraordinary humor and funny situations that often happened on stage by accident.

[wormeats]

hello gay autism website, advice for meltdowns and burnout?

preventing meltdowns and dealing w them if they occur, recovering from burnout after a lifetime of masking and smaller burnouts until i pushed it for too long and this time i feel broken but also learned more about myself ?

i havent intentionally self harmed in 2 years, and quit nicotine like 2 months ago so those are some long term core coping strategies i lost maybe also making stuff harder, but it was good to quit those ofc

it just gets scary bc during a meltdown it feels like i Need to Scream and/or Run and/or make myself feel pain/hit myself or hit something else (but i stopped doing that bc once as a teen i broke my wall and it was embarrassing and bad, and a few weaks ago i fucked up my hand punching a tree full force) (it always ends up being Harder and More Damage than i thought at the time, mayb adrenaline, but adds to scary) but the worst is that during the worst ones I feel a very strong urge to hit my head against shit as hard as i can, and i try to redirect to Anything Else bc that feels Dangerous so i used to punch my legs a lot and give myself hematoma bad bruising, more recent ones ive screamed into stuff to muffle, scratch my skin (another past coping mechanism of sh F), and bite myself so hard i feel my teeth about to connect and tear a chunk of meat out of me so i get scared and stop

it also is really hard or impossible to communicate and really hard to think so its more stressful if i am causing distress to others and want to calm down when i cannot calm down

it feels involuntary, like if i dont scream ill hurt myself and if i dont bash my head in i have to punch my legs or bite myself

at a certain point, i probably just have to let myself have the meltdown and know i will be okay after, but it scares people also if i cannot communicate that to them and am in lot of visible distress

advice ? any pls

im struggling a lot and have been this entire year

probably started burnout around october and thought it was a depressive episode (maybe a lot of my past depressive episodes were burnout and being too depressed to do shit let me rest, but this time i couldnt afford to be depressed bc i need to work to live and afford shit and etc etc even tho still not doing shit i need to like acquiring insurance and doctors, it feels impossible i am just trying to survive each day. how the fuck do you get doctors and appointments if u are too mentally unwell to do that. i cannot afford to be hospitalized either i need to keep working and have money to live)

any advice ? sorry for essay, ty if you read, shit is so hard rn

[margindoodles2407]

Greetings from the Margins

Sup? My name is MarginDoodles2407, but y'all can call me Margin :]

The most important thing to know about me? I am Roman Catholic, Pro-Life, and Anti-Pornography. By the way, my definition of pro-life is not just "anti-abortion", although that is a big part of it. I believe that to be truly pro-life, you must make a commitment to extend the respect and dignity we deserve as human beings to EVERYONE, regardless of age, health, status, physical characteristics, gender, political ideology, et cetera. And my Catholic faith is central to who I am as a person, so while I try not to get political on this blog- because we all need fun places to hang out without the stress of the real world- I will not hesitate to post about my Catholicism and Pro-Lifery. If that’s not your jam? Understandable. But please, be respectful to my Religion and values, as I will be to yours.

This blog started out as a Zelda blog and uh, it quickly became a Star Wars blog. From this sentence alone, you can probably guess my two biggest fandoms. My natural habitat is openly weeping about warrior space monks with laser swords and a fictional army of genetically identical South Pacific Islander men. Speaking of which, I am The Fives Guy. Do you wanna talk about Fives? Do you have Questions (tm) about Fives? Has this man crossed your mind at all? Well actually I am in the process of writing an Essay about him, which I will link to this post when I finish.

In terms of Zelda, my favorite character is the boy himself, my guy Link, and my favorite game is Ocarina of Time, and even though I am mainly a Star Wars blog now, I am ALWAYS down to talk about Zelda because these games were part of my formative years, I am still a huge nerd about them, and they are very near and dear to my heart. I cannot stress how much I still love Zelda.

I am an Artist and an Author, and requests for both are always open. Just keep it Safe for Work :) In case you’re interested, my AO3 is Margin_Doodles.

Alright let's talk about a few more things. Namely, the Tagging System, and what on earth it means.

Zelda Tags (main tag: #the legend of zelda or #tloz)

#hero's spirit: The blog, @tloz-heros-spirit, that I run with my EXCELLENT best friend and partner-in-crime, @whyoneartheven. A concept for a potential Zelda game that would be, canonically, the final game in the series and break the Curse of Demise. If you like lore-accurate storytelling, over-the-top character designs, and seafoam-green ghost fire, give it a check-out! Fair warning, though, I haven't updated this one in a while, but if you'd like to talk about it I'd love to!

#margin's links: My interpretations of the various Links, Zeldas, and NPCs of the Zelda series. Includes meaningful meta, silly art, memes, and various questions and answers.

#my beloved hyrule warriors: I talk about my second-favorite Zelda game, Hyrule Warriors, which I am mentally unwell about

#zelink my beloved: I am a Zelink shipper. It has me in a chokehold

Star Wars Tags (main tag: #star wars)

#hfsw: My precious baby, the High Fantasy Star Wars AU. Basically I take Star Wars, and make it a High Fantasy AU. I don't know how much more on-the-nose the title could be. This one also has its own blog, @high-fantasy-sw, although I'm not always great about cross-posting. Includes overly-intricate worldbuilding, SO MANY FREAKING MEMES, very flowery prose writing, even more silly art, and lightsabers but they're actually just swords on fire.

#wdap au: Commander Fox of the Coruscant Guard and Senator Riyo Chuchi of Pantora are madly in love. This saves the Galaxy. 50% whump and angst, 50% crack-treated-seriously absolute chaos nonsense. Another collab with @whyoneartheven, this started out as a personal canon-compliant slowburn tragedy but then took a 180 degree pivot and became our silly fix-it romance AU, featuring a begrudging-coworkers-to-reluctant-allies-to-mutual-respecters-to-genuine-friends-to-mutual-pining-to-lovers-to-totalitarian-government-topplers storyline, the What to Do About Palpatine Tea Club (from which the au derives its abbreviation), Padme "Been There Done That" Amidala planning a secret wedding, and Robot Hand Buddies Mace Windu and Anakin Skywalker, to name a few of the better jokes.

#newsies au: Blame the twisted mind of @luke-shywalker for this one; I was sick and decided to watch Newsies, and at her suggestion I liveblogged it. Then things got out of hand. Featuring Crutchie!Echo, Obi-Wan Kenobi In The Person Of Teddy Roosevelt, and "they have interplanetary travel but still read paper news?".

#baseball au: The Clone Wars, as a series of really high-stakes baseball games. I came up with this one on my birthday with one of my real-life friends. Featuring Political Baseball Intrigue.

#margin watches tcw: I watch The Clone Wars (2008), and provide commentary

#margin watches tbb: I watch The Bad Batch, and provide commentary

#rebels my beloved: the Star Wars Rebels tag

#master disaster himself: Anakin. The Anakin Tag.

#electric judgement: the Plo Koon tag

#look at my guys: the Clones tag. I need to get better at actually USING this tag, but it does exist.

#in this house we love and respect her grace duchess satine kryze of mandalore: the Satine tag

#maul is a drama queen: the Darth Maul tag

Personal Tags:

#margin doodles: my art

#margin writes: my writing

#margin rambles: my soliloquies

#you ask margin babbles: answers to asks

#memes by margin: my memes

#incorrect quotes: incorrect quotes, usually by me

#the vod'e: I talk about my siblings (i have a LOT of siblings)

#friend art: my friends' art! very cool, totally recommend

#catholicism: Catholicism :)

Fic Masterlist

Thanks for reading, thanks for checkin' out my blog, and May the Force Be With You!

[faithfromanewperspective]

the western sydney work ethic, mental health, burnout, inequality and ableism

inspired by ashton irwin on artist friendly with joel madden and 17902 sustainable urban development at the university of technology sydney

I’ve teased the idea of writing this post for a while now, and now I’m sitting in my borrowed bed in Sydney with the graphs and maps from my course still at the back of my eyelids and still processing the Vibes of catching up with my childhood friends and wondering if it’s too early to go to bed if the sun’s still up—it’s time to let it out. Because I found a bunch of seemingly unrelated things and put them together in a way that helped me process my upbringing and the way it’s positioned me as I go through life even now.

For background of this post, the Greater Sydney metropolis has a very stark rich/poor divide, where a large strip from the west going to the south of the city have been left behind in a variety of ways. In my uni course I see the maps on income, education level, job overqualification, crime, violence… they’re nice and set out, and they validate what I already intuitively knew—just like everyone who grew up in the area I’m going to refer to vaguely as Western Sydney. These graphs put words to something I’ve lived when I was too young to process it, something I hear the impacts of in 5 seconds of summer’s songs like I’ve never seen in any other art ever.

I know many people relate too and I don’t want to say you have to be from Western Sydney to get it. There are plenty of other places with similar trends, but this strip of suburbs, half a city, is where I grew up and the case study I’m going to use for the phenomenon I’m going to describe in this post.

Having spent the last decade and a bit in a more conservative, more sheltered area of suburban Brisbane, where people take it slow and at least attempt to have fun without getting completely wasted; where people have high expectations for their lives and livelihoods they never quite meet and where they’re the kind of emotionally aware that you hear all about how stressful that experience is: this was the backdrop of my teens and young adult years to this point. It’s where I learned about mental health and neurodivergence and ableism and where I really explored what faith and spirituality is to me. It’s where I never quite felt comfortable when people were too polite, where I poured all the belief they had in me as a gifted kid plonked into that environment I wasn’t native to into the delusion that I could deconstruct the unequal education system of their own creation if I only worked harder than anyone had ever worked before. Then they would finally listen. It’s where I tried and tried to get help for my mental health and wasn’t listened to either, not when I presented so well and was simply unable to unmask until I was unable to mask at all. Where the slightest bit of hope caused me to forget everything that was hurting me, making it a struggle to work through even to this day. where I wondered if I was some superhuman for the fact that I can work my ass off without even realising it’s hard work, a smile on my face and arms open for connection as always (the mark of health they say) while being desperately unwell, hurting, thinking I had it good compared to some of the people I’d see crumple under the pressure, I should be kind to them (not understanding why I found them so, so relatable).

I am not a freak of nature, or superhuman, though I am neurodivergent and twice-exceptional. I am the product of my upbringing and my ancestors. I carry generations of culture from hectares of foreign lands my ancestors made their homes on (ethically questionably in some cases I do acknowledge) and became part of the ecosystem of. It is, like most difference, a gift and a curse. Something that makes certain measures of ableism not apply to me, but creates others in their place. I’ll get into this more later.

in the strip of suburbs united by demographics we call Western Sydney, farmers from the notoriously difficult land of the Murray-Darling and immigrants from everywhere on the planet, some Indigenous but few Indigenous to Australia, make up classrooms, neighbourhoods, workplaces. Think I Am Australian by The Seekers, but just the verses, as a snapshot of some of the stories representative of the people. Interwoven in the landscape. We celebrated Harmony Day on the 21st of March in my primary school. Everyone had a different cultural background. We heard different languages spoken on the street. There were stereotypes. There were scared people trying to find their tribe, build a life in Australia, away from the larger scale farms, get their kids a good education to do a trade or go to university. Fear and angst and hurt coexisting with an appreciation of the juxtaposition of others you’d never head admitted out loud. But the second verse of the Australian national anthem was written just for us, or might as well have been. Beneath our radiant southern cross, we’ll toil with hearts and hands… google the lyrics, you’ll get it, you’ll see why I wish the rest of Australia did too: for those who’ve come across the seas, we’ve boundless plains to share, with courage let us all combine to advance Australia fair…

No one with the power to acknowledge this I interact with these days remembers the second verse. Except 5 Seconds Of Summer, in their ridiculous little promo videos, who I’d bet the rubble that’s left of my parents’ old house as the new owners turn it into a mansion because Gentrification, have no idea of what a meaningful gesture that is.

I can feel the wounds of being torn from the good parts of that experience closing over. And so it’s time to give the often forgotten stories on an often forgotten piece of land that made me and also these four wonderful humans who we are today, the credit it deserves. Start by telling our stories.

One thing I love about Artist Friendly is it cuts straight to it. Joel Madden is just incredible like that—in a world coming out of the 2010s pop decade of dancing while the room is on fire (bloodhound, 5sos) put your rose coloured glasses on and party on (Katy Perry’s chained to the rhythm) (these I would consider more analytical quotes of the era, one whose vibe was ‘forget all the pain in the world, let’s party and sing about how horny we are’ which for all my cynicism I did find fun)—he kept up his punk edge, kept investing in new musicians, searching for and investing in what’s real. He also really loves Australia, and when you put our underdog-supporting attitude next to Good Charlotte’s songs you understand why. Anyway, the episode pretty much opens by him asking Ashton about his background, and relating from the perspective of working-class-emotionally-unavailable/immature-parents-who-showed-their-love-through-provision-and-really-did-try-to-be-there-but-had-none-of-the-resources. I like the positive take. It’s high time we stop being classist and ableist towards the people who’ve met our needs as much as they were able, but it still wasn’t enough. Who taught us how to take opportunities, work to prove our worth, and through it all couldn’t even afford therapy.

I used to think my family was rich because we lived in Australia and my parents had gone to university. Never mind the fact that I was born when they were barely older than I am now. Never mind the mould in the walls or sneaky Tuesday night washing of the school uniforms in the summer when we got sweaty and there weren’t any spares or the mismatched bargain bin clothes we wore or the bedroom I shared with my sisters. I knew the people I compared us to. And now I do really believe if I’d grown up a bit less frugal or even a few k’s out of the area I did I wouldn’t be who I am. I wouldn’t have the perspectives I have, nor would this podcast episode have me feeling so seen. Like, yes I lived a bit further into the city than these guys, close to the train line without any farmland where the house values shot up seemingly overnight and meant the area I grew up in is experiencing a very weird disparity as two cities collide within it today. But we grew up in the same era in western sydney, we grew up loved and knowing that was a privilege and we grew up knowing from a very young age we had to spend our whole lives working hard if we wanted life to be manageable and we better be polite and better not ask for too much.

yet we also grew up with hurt. From the trauma we inherited from our caregivers as we encountered the attitudes and fears with which they faces the world. From what we saw our peers go through much too young to be able to draw boundaries with the empathy we felt too much of and understood nothing of. From broken family relationships that were all too common. From religion that hurting people used to cause or at least stagnate hurt instead of healing.

when I was burning out and struggling as an unrecognised neurodivergent I used to wonder why my father would place such value on the Protestant work ethic when Jesus died exactly so we wouldn’t have to strive. And I acknowledge that the PWE is harmful to many disabled folk or literally anyone who has experienced the demands of life and had their stress invalidated for it. Including myself. But never having the expectation of a life of ease and luxury? I do appreciate that. It’s given me a whole different metric for how I view life, one none of my friends except those who are from those years of my life understand. No one in Brisbane or my online international friends seem to get it. But I’m sure when you see yourself in this post, that some of you will (we might be the largely unheard minority but I’m sure we exist. Joel Madden is proof of that). It’s given me a differently calibrated emotional pain scale in many ways. Different standards for when the warning lights come on (and I’m very perceptive of angst and disappointment and always see them in others to be worse than they are because of it). And when I look at everything this band has accomplished, I know it’s the same for them.

I have spent a lot of time these last years advocating for neurodivergent acceptance. I’ve done so in a way that made sense of the decade previous, of existing in a world of inequality I’ve always been so sensitive to and of expectations that I took on as opportunities (because what else have I been trained to do)? And yet so much of it is about funding and resources. And when there isn’t that? You make room for my favourite thing ever: grassroots, unofficial but beautifully organic loving neurodivergent affirmation. Plenty of rural folks, my grandparents included, hate labels, prefer focusing on strengths and equipping young people based on those than accommodating difficulties. They’re often seen as conservative, bigoted, ableist, and some of them are. But they bring with them an important lesson about how to live with the realities of the economy that they struggle in too, too much to support someone else. They don’t have the same impossible expectations of their neurodivergent progeny and protegees and community members that many who hold in their heads an idea of perfection they hope to bring to their families do (the kind of things sometimes only a diagnosis can free someone from, and nothing from the memory and shame of) and that—that is an important attitude for all of us to have.

Some people are unconventionally neurodivergent affirming while knowing none of the terms, or maybe trying to hold off using them because of the same economic and confidence reasons I’ve tried to unpack. Some rely on simple kindnesses and explanations that centre around possibility, and go nowhere near deficit. Some people know intuitively or through hard life lessons themselves (usually the latter) the value of stripping all but essentials from the functionality of everyday life. Not making it any harder than it is.

Of course you can drum on the tables in math class. My son is a musician, I get how it is.

Liz Hemmings is the only valid neurodivergence parent—I’ll say no more, it is how it is

Sometimes when we advocate for things we have to be aware that the way the dominant in-power often wealthy culture has figured it out isn’t always the best way to do things. Environmentalism is a prime example of this. This is why we need brown environmentalism and to decolonise and listen to our Indigenous stewards and share power.

You can take a lot of lessons from a place that’s as culturally diverse as Western Sydney. And you can see how a work ethic is facilitated, rather than gatekept. You can see why Ash, when asked by Joel if he’s scared of every getting back to that life (ref to poverty) his attitude is actually one of gratitude and almost reverence for the place that shaped him, that brought the band together and everything that came from that point forwards. That shaped their attitude and birthed the grit that got them through being on tour with one direction and I don’t think he said it but in Ash’s case I bet the empathy he has for the fans and the way he just wants to connect and create a fun experience but also one where we’re deeply seen by moving songs is because he knows what it’s like for so many people. You can’t not if you grew up like we did. You can see why Luke at any chance will say ‘we’re from Sydney Australia’. It has a way of sticking to you, the rich culture that’s a patchwork of orphaned cultures, the way everyday life is like one of those adventures you emerge from with strong bonds usually only found in fantasy novels. You can see that the band is proof that those bonds exist in real life.

after a decade and a bit pretending I know what leisure is and how to have fun without Bad Angst I’m glad that this proof is still in my life. I’ve still got close friends from primary school and few can boast that (we might not quite be Calum and Michael in that regard, but they still have other friends from primary who they’ve kept in touch with despite geographical separation as I have).

Now I’ve acknowledged this and traced the strings that are much easier to see when my own life is mirrored in a podcast episode, maybe I can find the good among the cultural dysphoria in the circles I do have in Brisbane, and do value still for what they are even if they’re not quite the same. Now that I can see how a world of too many opportunities and not enough freedom can burn someone out who came from this background, with the type of brain that flourishes on being a latchkey kid and sketchy hangouts with deep conversations and questionable substances but crumples under expectation and too much choice and politeness, I can put my life back together in a way that validates who I am and where I come from, rather than what those around me tell me should be good for me.

as, I can tell by this interview, these guys have. I want to be able to talk about suffering without people acting like it shouldn’t be something we can comfortably say out loud, as Ashton does here and through music. My art isn’t quite the same, but the purpose behind it is so, so similar. I relate a lot to the importance he places on spirituality, even if I’ve tried to do something with Christianity that it, in the mainstream at least, isn’t built for and probably can only partially do on its own. Maybe the epitome of humility is being able to learn from other religions and see them as gifts from God even as, and I include Christianity here as well, anything can be dangerous if used in a way that it wasn’t meant for: anything with power to heal has power or hurt too. I’ve got so much respect for how Ash does it. I think this episode really cemented for me that, and I feel like it’s something we as a fandom don’t talk about enough because of their characterisation (and fair enough, if you’re famous you don’t want people dissecting every part of you, and I’m not going to do that just give a generalised compliment): these guys are so incredibly resilient and intelligent and invested in creating healing and they’re really fucking good at it. They might present themselves as goofs with one braincell that create bops and fan over other celebrities as if they themselves aren’t famous too, but so much of that is humility and them baring themselves in ways that are sustainable and really emotionally mature (for the most part) to be relatable to us as fans and invest in making that connection genuine. They’re not pretending, because they understand how it is to be human.

and you don’t get there by being some sort of Untouchable Philosophical Genius Figure. you get there because you’ve lived in community and you’ve survived hard things because of other people who’ve done similar and created authentic art too. You get there often because you have to: because putting on a fake show and doing stuff for likes and popularity was never going to work and will only screw you up in the long run and you’re worldly enough to see that from a young age and learn from your own intuition and empathy and experiences. You get there because you lived your whole life being resourceful and being street smart and doing what it takes to make good decisions and invest in yourself (who else do you have who’s worth more than that) and your future. Doing what it takes to make sure you’re alive to learn how to do better at things you’re behind in that might keep food on the table in the future, because there’s none of that oh-it-won’t-happen-to-me attitude. That part is very sustainable which I love. I also really really relate to it and have found it something I would get complimented on when I was younger, too young to be so mature. But I never attributed it to myself. I knew somehow, abstractly, I was disabled and nearing my limit and everything I do I did so I could survive. It’s the western Sydney work ethic.

and yet this often beautiful phenomenon has its ugly side. If you know you’re neurodivergent even without the words—more often than not the only people you see who you relate to are those who didn’t make it, who fell off the horse of functionality and into things like addiction and other things that exacerbate the inability to empower yourself. You figure that when you’re honest with yourself you’ll be dead by 25. Sometimes you give up on trying to prevent that and wonder if it’s even worth it to attempt to keep going: is your life really worth that effort?? What I’ve described is a combination of the experiences of many people I know, aspects of it are mine, and aspects mirror things I know these guys have mentioned about themselves (I’m going to leave it at that vague level of detail). You wonder why people believe in you, is it only because any other option is unmentionable? But what if you let them down like you know (fear) you will? And burnout is the epitome of this: the need to let go of trying. And without a decent amount of privilege it’s impossible to return from.

I’ve been there and scrounged at straws of privilege I do have, pretending I’m doing my job to the level that others expect while letting go of every expectation I have on myself. Still problem solving outside every box on how to get back on my feet because I know nothing else, radically accepting that I might not and whittling down all my needs in life to the most essential, that I might still survive even at my limited and diminishing capacity. While always relating to those our society sees as failures. I’ve borrowed from other cultures that aren’t my own to have a stubborn sense of worth while trying to keep afloat in a society and economy that says it’s conditional. My spirituality comes in here, as do my problem-solving skills: again, maybe this culture fears burnout more than anything, but maybe it has half a toolkit on how to get out of it. Only half. I have to pair it with what I learn from others too.

and even through that, I’m immensely privileged to have savant skills and a generally able body. Just like when you make it big as a musician you’re privileged by that. Against a backdrop of I’m-nothing-special. I’ve always struggled with questions of my felt worth, because I’m so conscious of my privilege and ability that sometimes I get the two muddled (though I know my ability doesn’t define my worth in things I do poorly at, and my persistence technically doesn’t either but I’ll be damned if I don’t try and try and actually find doing badly more validating of how I see myself than when I do well, so I chase it again and again, my dad is the same, it’s what makes us so adventurous). I understand the consciousness of things that are going well not lasting, and pouring creativity for new ventures into things like selling candles. Instead of letting achievements make me believe I’m someone more important than I am, using them as ways of giving myself space to do whatever’s next, dial off the pressure a little bit.

I understand appreciating others’ sensitivity and the social capital they bring everywhere rather than their material wealth or achievement and when Ash praised Calum for that and said it made him look bad I felt that. Both the experience of being that counter-cultural person who doesn’t give a shit about money but values connection so, so much more (and from all I’ve written, you can see why, can’t you) to still never being able to be as good a person as I see the need for in the world.

I understand missing family and constantly grieving that, as I weigh up the city of my childhood with the friends and culture I love versus the city of my youth with my feathered family who are my children and who I hate to miss birthdays of and the like, same goes for my sisters and parents and grandparents, the way Ashton, the only band member with younger siblings, hates missing all their milestones too. I feel privileged that Brisbane and Sydney are so close to each other and nothing in my life is as far as Los Angeles. I understand the nostalgia for Sydney. This whole post is proof of it.

I understand the unbreakable bonds between people who make this kind of art together. I understand putting disagreements on the back burner and realising the connection through writing is so much bigger and the connection can overcome whatever is going wrong. Heck, I feel privileged to understand and relate to how such brilliant brains work (nature: neurodivergence I won’t go any further into as well as nurture) as well as the environment that made them what they are.

all my life I’ve longed for that kind of community and connection I’ve seen largely in fiction, sometimes between people in real life. And I think having written this analysis (it’s taken me til my bedtime or later) I do have all the ingredients there. All the ability to make it, both in the practical way I relate to and am there for my friends and whatever I do in my silver bridges tag. In the neighbourhoods I eventually design that foster communities with all the good parts I’ve described but without the inequality and minimal poverty and hurt and violence. To everyone who’s shown me these things in myself that are so worth working for and I know I’m not savantly immediately good at, I am so so incredibly grateful. the city as a whole. My family and friends. The celebrities I grew up nearby and those who invest in people like them. People like me. May I keep investing in people: people like you. because what is humility but knowing there’s always something to learn, and what will bring all of us forward but learning it and putting it into practice in love and empathy that drives a grit that no amount of striving for striving’s sake can manufacture?

[celiaelise]

Helloooo I have been avoiding posting about this but I think it's reaching a form of denial so I figured I'd better rip the bandaid off 🙃

I got fired the weeks ago!! I am now unemployed!

I'm pretty bummed about it. I liked my workplace a lot, and I liked most of the people I worked with a lot, too! There are several people I've become pretty good friends with, and, while some have shown a willingness to continue being friends, I know it won't be at all the same as casually seeing them at work several times a week.

Finances are a concern, but not a huge concern. I have a little bit of savings, and my family helps me out when I need it. (I can also probably get unemployment if I ever get around to applying for it)

That does bring me to what is possibly the most stressful part of this for me right now, which is that I still haven't told any of my family. At one point, a few months ago, I mentioned to my dad that I'd been written up for attendance, and he was basically like, "yeah, you should stop being late. There's literally no benefit to being late." Which is so frustrating, because obviously i KNOW THAT!!!! I don't have poor attendance because I think it's cool and fun and good!! In fact, almost every shift I was late to or missed, I was hating myself for it the whole time it was happening. So, yeah, I'm pretty sure he's gonna ask what happened, and, if I decide to answer honestly, I'll have to try an explain how sometimes I just do no-call/no-shows in accident, by, like, oversleeping by a LOT, and then lying in bed for six hours, thinking about how I need to get up and get dressed, or, at the very least, call in to say I can't make it, but not doing either of those things because anxiety and executive dysfunction have me by the throat.

And then he's not really going to understand, and it's going to be horribly, horribly awkward and embarrassing. He's consistently demonstrated throughout my life a lack of sympathy for people who struggle with mental illness, or who deems unintelligent. Though it seems like his fatherly love historically overrides such biases, it's still, like, not encouraging. Also I admit that I have an inflated sense of the importance of my father's opinion, but also he, like, pays my bills, so.

My mom's a little less complicated in that my reasons for not wanting to tell her this are the same as for not wanting to tell her most things about myself that I withhold: she always does too much, and she'll remember it forever.

I feel like the best case scenario is that everyone agrees Elise is Unwell and Needs Help, which sounds unbearable and idk how productive help would even be from that quarter.

Anyway, I was gonna say more about this topic, and I'm sure I will later, but I'm getting tired lol. But hopefully, now that I've broken the seal, it will be easier to vent about it here.

[wishful-seeker]

I think people should give kids more credit for knowing what they need.

When i was missing so much high-school i had to do summer school because i was not only physically ill but also very mentally unwell, sooooo many adults kept telling me to go to school, even though doing so made me have severe, debilitating panic attacks, and i was dealing with a lot of physical pain aswell. So many people said "you'll never amount to anything, man up and go to school." And i kept telling them "im sick and i know what my body needs." But nobody likes it when a 14-15 year old says that. God forbid a CHILD knows exactly what her body and mind needs, shes just a stupid kid how could she possibly know?

I promise your child actually knows what they're doing and what they need. Please listen to them. If you kid says they need to stay home from school there is a reason. Maybe its mental health, or physical health, but kids aren't stupid. I would like to see less of this ablism where a child that doesn't go to school is considered a bad child.

Do you know how many teachers hated me specifically for not being able to go to school? It didn't matter that i had a note saying every absence is excused by a doctor, they still assumed i was fooling my parents into letting their bratty child do whatever they wanted. They would ridicule me TO MY FACE and say I'd never pass. I did pass btw. I finished most of my school work on one single day of summer class because i missed a lot of that too. But i learned nothing, because i was BUSY BEING FUCKING SICK i had BETTER things to worry about. Idc what the excuse is, absence should never mean you fail a class or don't pass a grade. It is so ablist to assume that every student can follow THE VERY UNREASONABLE SCHEDULE of waking up at 4 to 5 am and being at school for 8 hours (WHEN YOU ONLY DO ACTUAL WORK FOR 4!!) and kids only getting 6 hours of sleep (WHEN A LOT NEED 9 TO 12!!!) for 5 fucking days (EVEN 4 WOULD BE BETTER!!) Its absolutely ridiculous and the only kids can do it are either able bodied, able minded, and even then they are more stressed than a child should ever be. And if they cant follow this schedule they are a Bad Person. I had teachers that literally treated me like a dog. I'd ask them for make up work and they would give me the most shitty and rude attitude i have ever seen. NO ONE has treated me worse about my health than teachers. It was because i was a kid. When i had to drop out of college for my disability, the teachers were incredibly respectful and wished me a speedy recovery and hoped id be back in their class next year.

Being sick as a child is one of the most isolating and angering experiences you will go through. Adults take every shitty thing they feel and throw it at you because you are a vulnerable child. They would never speak the way they speak to you to adults because then they'd get their ass beat or fucking killed. But because you are 15 years old, they will use you as a punching bag.

If your kid is sick, FUCKING LISTEN TO THEM!! i hate to burst your bubble but when i say "people know whats best for them more than anyone else" I MEAN KIDS TOO.

[ruminate88]

Ways emotional abuse has affected me physically/mentally as a woman:

10/18/24

When I was talking to these toxic men, I was NOT aware of emotional abuse. My dad always gave me tough love growing up, so I guess I mistook all my exes criticism as “helping me” but it was actually taring me down 😨

I was depressed AND suicidal the whole time I was talking to these men and my recent ex, Andrew, especially made me believe I HAD ISSUES. I honestly believed I was mentally unwell and thought Andrew was the “normal” one accept loving him was soooooo frustrating and difficult. There was sweet moments often of “hey baby 😘 how is your day?” Buuuuuut I mean, most the time I felt he was distant and I couldn’t seem to get any closer with him. Prior to Andrew, I dealt with Cody who I believed just had major trust issues and so I was trying to force him to trust me basically working so hard to make him feel safe with me but NOTHING changed him.

Okay also during that time, I’m unknowingly seeking their approval and stressing so much about being “pretty enough” or “hot” 🥴 I mean, these men charmed me and I thought they were the hottest guys I had ever laid eyes on. Of course I want to impress them 😝 Soo…. I wear soo much makeup and half way through the relationship with Andrew, found myself wearing BLACK EYESHADOW! Straight up black and I would try to blend it with grey so I had a Smokey eye but I understand now the ONLY real reason I was doing that is cuz of how depressed I was in dating Andrew. A dear lady I know said to me at one point, “Sweetie, you don’t need all that black eye makeup. You’re too pretty!” Awwwww 🥺🥺🥺🙏🏻❤️‍🩹 I didn’t realize why I was doing that back then….

Cody ghosted me which really put me in a dark place and then Andrew was making me straight up miserable until I got away from him. Andrew put me through sooooooo much frustration and disappointment. Countless empty promises!!! Sooo now I’m desperately suicidal and tired of life. I prayed to God and decided to change myself completely. Not quite 2 years after I’m away from Andrew and married to someone else, suddenly I can’t wear makeup at all 😳 my eyes break out with scales every time I try eyeshadow and even my lips swell with lipstick. NOW, I do have very sensitive skin but I never had struggled with makeup before 😣 was so frustrating!

I had NO idea my exes were abusive and that’s why I felt so bad from them. The heartbreak from Andrew wouldn’t seem to go away plus I could not stop obsessing in my brain over intrusive thoughts of Andrew. However, I went full blown into church and God. I mean I was extreme because it was desperate not to hurt from my exes anymore. Not understanding there was emotional pain and trauma! I had been numb after Cody but could not understand it. When I met my husband, was like a pause on everything as all my focus was on meeting him but after marriage and we settled into our house, NOW notice something is truly wrong cuz I feel majorly disconnected in my relationships. Especially to my husband. 😔🙏🏻

At some point communication is hard in my marriage and I focus on church. I can’t wear makeup so I throw it all away, even my nail polish ❤️‍🩹 it’s as if I I want nothing to do with my appearance. I saw I started losing hair AND I started having stomach issues as lost so much weight. Had sores often on my body and I just stress none stop!!!! I had NO idea I was trying to get out of flight or fight mode. No one told me I had unhealed trauma. I learned about emotional abuse FINALLY and STILL don’t understand I have wounds to heal. I try to get myself back, even try makeup again and stress all over again with my appearance.

I have had mood swings, hot flashes, chills, stomach/digestive issues, came out of the brain fog eventually but often my short term isn’t as great as my long term memory so I make A LOT of reminders on my phone just in case…. I’ve had bruises randomly all over my legs. I fell off a ladder cuz I wasn’t as stable as I use to be. I’m more careful now. Been through stages of both grief and trauma bond!! Also, found myself needing perfection within myself or I beat myself up. 😳 Negative thinking about myself and putting myself down…. ALL fixable things that I’ve been working through now that I know. Worst of all, CRAZY eating disorders. One minute I want nothing to eat and then suddenly I’m soooo hungry I’m shoving food down my neck ☹️ BUT I have learned to start my day off with plenty of protein and vitamins 👍🏻😩 (magnesium for digestion. Make sure it’s magnesium citrate or else you’ll be sleepy)

Lack of energy and just sadness often wake up extremely sad BUT I’m trying to give myself compassion and love. I’ve tried to balance out my life between superficial and spirituality!! It’s not a perfect walk but I’m not giving up ❤️‍🩹❤️‍🩹❤️‍🩹❤️‍🩹🙏🏻🥺

[lostinthewoods1991]

When Will We Stop Glorifying This Slavery?

"Get out of your comfort zone" - I think this is something most of us have heard quite often. It's one of those overused sentences that people throw around when they have nothing better to say but still want to sound motivational. Over time, I've come to question this a lot. I'm not saying one must not get out of one's comfort zone. All of us need to be challenged in good ways, yes. However, I have arrived at the conclusion that while I push myself out of comfort zones, it's equally important that I recognise my threshold at any given point of time when it comes to the stress I can bear. I've seen how people glorify the "pushing oneself out of one's comfort zone" thing to the point of breaking oneself. The only thing I got out of listening to them was that I ended up being broken and in need of recovery.

Last year, I happened to move to another city for a few months. The only experience I had staying in a hostel was at my university. But, that was different. I had people I knew, staying close by. Staying in a single room in Kochi was my choice. I wanted to come back to a room where I could just be myself, after a long day of having to fit into an environment that was new to me. But, as days passed by, I was feeling disoriented. It was my first experience of working in something like a corporate set up. Did I think I was pushing myself out of my comfort zone with all this? Yes, very much. But, I quickly recognised that the place wasn't meant for me. While I liked copywriting because it involved tasks that creatively challenged me, the workspace was nothing like I expected it to be. Things were manageable in the beginning. I was told by the boss that we were a "family". I didn't know this was her way of saying that things weren't strictly professional there and she could bend the rules just as she pleased. Everyone seemed to like her, me included. I could say I was smitten with her smile. However, the better part of me didn't quite agree with my liking for her. Despite all her charm and amiability, I felt uneasy, the moment she walked into the room. I couldn't immediately understand why this feeling persisted. I would feel myself stiffen involuntarily, my breathing becoming irregular, my heart, steadily racing. Something told me not to trust her. That there was something cold and cruel about her, that something unpleasant lurked, even under the most heartwarming of her smiles. I never trust my radar in such situations. Instead, I would brush it off as my unnecessary anxiety.

I don't know how much of this is true but I've read somewhere that children who grew up with one of their parents or both their parents being volatile would grow up to be hypervigilant, always unknowingly looking for discrepancies and subtle shifts in people's behaviour/tone/body language or even their microexpressions. People tell me I'm intuitive but in reality, I think it mostly comes down to my hypervigilance. It's not something I'm doing consciously. Anyhow, coming back to her, I assumed it was just an irrational fear of mine. But, I realised it wasn't a case of my radar going haywire.

To start with, we were constantly monitored. My part of the office was right under a surveillance camera. Every single thing, including the way I sat was being monitored. If I ever turned around even to ask some work-related doubt to somebody, my boss would send a text in the group immediately - "Hima avde entha cheyyunne?". It was tiring, being micromanaged all the time and having to explain myself always. In the beginning, she would say all the right things. Hima, you must take leave if you feel stressed out, your mental health is your most important asset and so on. It quickly changed into my occasional text requests for leave being met with her passive-aggressive "K", even if I was genuinely not well. The fact that I was unwell wasn't relevant. This was a person who couldn't care any less for her employees' physical/mental health until things got that drastic.

I wrote the paragraphs above, a few days ago. I was going to write about how trying to push myself out of my comfort zone broke me, instead of contributing to my growth. I thought I'd return to my experience in the office at Kochi later and left the writing halfway. Yesterday, I read the heart-wrenching letter written by Anna's mother who lost her daughter to the unbearable work pressure in EY. I couldn't help but feel broken myself, imagining how much stress Anna must have been through. The company I worked for in Kochi was nowhere near the scale of EY, one of the firms in the "Big Four", as they call it. Yet, it was one of the worst work-related experiences I ever had. I can only imagine how much more gruelling it would be to work for EY. Having seen the stress my cousin sister who once worked in EY used to go through, Anna's mother's words hit closer home.

I remember how hostile my boss was when I asked her, on behalf of everyone, if we could be granted a few days of work-from-home, given we were all falling sick with some of us experiencing breathing difficulties, following the Brahmapuram fire incident. It wasn't even a demand. I was only politely asking her if it would be possible. Somebody close to my hostel had died. I was terribly anxious for all obvious reasons. Instead of showing atleast a bare minimum empathy, I was cornered and intimidated by the boss, for the simple reason that I happened to be the one who asked her if it was possible for us to work from home. I guess that was when the tyrant in her woke up. How dare you even ask for something like that? She did not say that out loud but I could hear the question reaching me from across her head, through the video call. Mind you, she was at her home in Trichur and safe, while this was happening in Kochi and she refused us work-from-home. I was surprised to see how fragile her sense of control was, crumbling under a simple question I asked. She looked at me as though I was a threat to her. She told me I had to get a medical certificate that proved the cause of my throat infection was the smoke in Kochi. I remember wondering what she was high on. I decided I was going to go home, no matter what she said. It wasn't even an option anymore. I felt the need to crush her ridiculously fragile ego and that's what I did. I went home.

After I returned to the office, I was obviously not in her good books anymore. She would lash out at me for no reason, make me feel cornered, alone and intimidated. Her favourite employees were the ones who would worship her, irrespective of how she treated them, even if she made them work overtime with no compensation. A younger me would've taken more time to see her for what she was. But given I wasn't that naive anymore, I was considered a "problem maker" when I wasn't even rebelling as such and I was only asking things that should otherwise be considered normal.

All the time I worked there, I found myself reflecting on who we were in that company. Were we even human? Who was I serving? What was the meaning of what I was doing? Did it even align with my values? The system is such that it makes you stop asking these questions, shed your human qualities, slowly and steadily reducing you into a cog in a machine. Your worth as an employee rests on how much you can dehumanise yourself. On how much you can do away with your fundamental needs and rights as a human being. On how much you can reduce yourself into a blob of existence that requires no meaning in life. They would talk about "productivity" in a way that makes you believe they have your highest good on their mind. To me, it comes across as another fancy word for slavery. You might almost convince yourself that they want to bring the best out of you, when in reality, their only intention is to exploit your abilities to their advantage, with little to no regard for the person you are. In between, they would provide you with a few, minimal things that vaguely remind you of your humanness, just so they can claim later that they had cared for their employees' well-being. This is what a small company made me feel. I had to get out to preserve my sanity and in the months that followed, I was left feeling disillusioned.

Despite being aware of all this, parents would still brag if their kids get into firms like EY. Youngsters would still believe it's for their best. After all, it would look good on their resumes. What a world! Here, I am at a loss for words.

RIP, Anna.