#like ptsd and depression are the things that have made life and work Extremely difficult for me

[lovecatsys]

getting self conscious about calling myself disabled is certainly a thing. Like I have diagnosed severe hearing loss But I can mostly navigate the the world without needing to sign or use hearing aids. I have chronic pain from fibromyalgia But I only need to use my cane occasionally. I'm autistic But the only really disabling thing for me about it is the fact that I can't work or socialize as much as allistic people otherwise I'm Fine (besides all the trauma from it lmao). Like I get the whole thing of invisible disabilities but sometimes its like my disabilities don't come up very often in my life

[restinslices]

Hello! I just read your recent post on the lin Kuei trio trying to bring back the reader's memories after it has been tainted and was wondering if you could do part 2 where the trio finally succeeded in restoring the reader's memories?

I haven’t seen those movies in awhile but I googled it and apparently only therapy can help? I went off what Google said. No gifs cause I got lazy. I ain’t even finna lie to you

Bi-Han doesn't show it, but he's in so much pain 

It's not because everytime you see him, you try to kill him 

If hating him for the rest of your life meant that you'd be happy, he'd take it 

But you're not happy. It's not a bad breakup and you hate him but at least you're living life. No. You have insane PTSD from the torture you endured 

When he's told that the only way to help you is therapy, he's a tad bit irritated 

Therapy takes too long. He wishes he could fight some enemies, use some magic, then boom. Everything's okay 

Speaking of those enemies though, he's definitely tracking them down and killing them 

He finds it difficult to watch your therapy sessions so he distracts himself with duties 

After a few failed tests, you're finally able to be in the same room as him without trying to kill him 

When he sees you look at him with love instead of hatred, all his tension is released 

Your memories are still a little wonky but you're healed enough to know that they're manipulated 

He's more than happy to tell you what really happened and make new memories with you 

He's more soft afterwards because he's afraid of triggering you 

It takes a lot of work but he's willing to do all of it if it means you'll be okay with him holding you again 

Seeing you be so terrified of him is like a living nightmare 

It's such a difficult situation because there's no easy way to help you 

It's not like a broken bone. You've been made to fear him and your memories are tainted

Therapy is the only thing that can help you 

It takes a while, and he hates it 

He's told to avoid face to face contact with you during your recovery 

So he watches you sneakily 

He watches you rediscover your memories day by day

When you ask to see him, he's a bit nervous, but he knows that that means progress has been made 

He lets you set the pace of the conversation 

Whenever there's silence, he doesn't try to fill it. He knows you need the time to gather your thoughts 

Your hand is shaky when you reach for him. He wants to try and close the space but he doesn't. He lets you take your time reaching for his hand 

When you finally touch it feels like weights have been lifted off his shoulders 

You're not 100% healed but you're making great progress. You being able to stand being around him is such a huge thing to him 

He helps you whenever you get confused and is extremely patient with you 

Definitely believes you'll make a full recovery 

After the first encounter and you trying to kill him, nobody could blame him for becoming depressed 

You were extremely volatile towards him 

Anytime you saw him you immediately tried to attack him 

When he's told therapy is the only thing that can help you, he wants to be hopeful but it's hard to 

Therapy takes time and there's no guarantee it'll even work 

He sends you gifts during your recovery. Sometimes he won't sign it so you're more willing to accept it 

Exposure therapy exhausts him, but he keeps doing it for you 

One day though your demeanor is different 

You don't rush at him or tell him to get out 

You're quiet and still. He lets the silence stay 

“I don't know what's real and what's not anymore”

“You're trying” he'd say. “That's all that matters. And I'll help you”

It gets quiet again 

You walk over to him, and instead of attacking him, you pull him into a tight embrace 

It takes him a moment to understand what's happening. Once he does, he hugs you back 

“You loved me. Real or fake?”

“I love you, and it's all real”

You two just stay like that for a while. He has no idea what's going on in your head, but in his he's ecstatic 

There was hope. As long as there was a hope, even a sliver of it, he wouldn't give up on you 

He stays by your side the entire time. Watching you slowly but surely go out of your way to be around him excites him 

He has tons of pictures and he shows you them and explains what happened whenever you get confused 

He's delighted to have you back 

[brandnewhuman]

I'm having big brain thoughts again AND YOU ALL ARE GONNA LISTEN;

I never thought I would get so far in life to see the day I WOULD GET HEADCANON SHAMED BY THE TICKTACK ASS APP.

And since mischaracterization and shitty takes are my passion AND my purpose, here are some thoughts about Simon. LET'S BEGIN

I was part of the "ghost has the emotional capacity of a rock" team. But upon thinking about it I've come to the conclusion that maybe that's not it. Simon has obviously gone through so much in life and while I still believe his trauma makes it hard for him to fit in and feel comfortable just by existing, I think he's the type of person who quietly enjoys to compensate himself for the things he has never been able to enjoy in life. LIKE NO ONE IS GONNA EVER SAY SORRY TO HIM OR REPAY HIM FOR ALL THE PAIN AND HORRIBLE STUFF HE HAS ENDURE, SO WHY NOT DOING IT HIMSELF?

No, he's not an abusive and dysfunctional man who's broken beyond repair STOP TURNING THIS POOR GUY INTO A FUCKING MONSTER, HE'S JUST A SILLY SAD MAN. Besides, he's fucking scared of the "the abused becomes the abuser" thing and works very hard to avoid it.

HE GOES TO THERAPY BITCHES, HE REALLY DOES. He deals with extreme guilt, with PTSD and a shitton of stuff that has made his life a living hell for so long and probably will keep making it difficult forever so in the end, although it's hard, he just caves in and gets help.

No, I don't think he has anger issues and he's not straight up rude. He feels uncomfortable with the idea of getting too angry, he prefers to just talk things out. AND TALKING ABOUT ANGER; I do believe he finds some sort of relief in his work but not because he likes to take out his emotions on others and kill mindlessly or stuff. I genuinely believe he likes the idea of being something good, of his actions having a positive impact. He feels like he has failed his family and friends but every time he manages to successfully complete a mission he feels like his existence is not just about the pain and the failures. When a mission goes bad he does have a hard time and gets physically ill.

BACK TO ENJOYING THINGS THO: during his childhood and throughout most of his life he has always denied himself so much for one reason or another. He's hellbent on trying to treat himself with things he has missed out. At first it was part of the therapy; watch movies you would've liked to watch, go and try food you have thought about trying etc... then as time went on, and he started to deal with the guilt better, he kept doing all that stuff just because he wanted to. And maybe because he wants to understand stuff and references better when he's hanging out with the 141.

That's another thing, he initially was reluctant at the idea of hanging out and stuff but then he manages to feel comfortable enough. He's very quiet but not downright antisocial.

He likes to read better and TV shows better than movies. I CAN'T STRESS THIS ENOUGH BUT HE'S A SHITTY COOK, HE COULD AND WILL BURN EVEN WATER.

There's the HC of him not eating enough and while I agree it's unrealistic I think there's some sort of truth. This man gets through depressive episodes where he can't sleep, can't eat and even breathing it's a chore. It usually happens when he's not at the base and he's having a difficult time with the leave time at home. He does however force himself to eat at least enough to not lose all the muscle and strength he has worked hard on. It's hard, but he tries to take care of himself as best as possible. THAT BEING SAID, THIS MAN EATS ONLY PREMADE THINGS CAUSE HE CAN'T COOK. Every single fucking meal, even the healthy one, has been bought and there's not a single time where he even attempts at cooking anything. After almost burning down his whole damn apartment he has banned himself from the kitchen. the way he maintains without necessarily eating when he doesn't feel like it's by keeping a whole fucking stock of snacks in his house.

OKAY THAT'S IT, THANKS FOR COMING TO MY TED TALK.

[myadhdchronicles]

ADHD and Comorbid conditions

What is a comorbid condition?

Comorbid conditions are those conditions that occur along with another condition. A lot of people with ADHD have other conditions that occur with it. These conditions add to the challenges of ADHD and make treatment even harder and more complex.

What kinds of conditions are often comorbid with ADHD?

Many things can be comorbid with ADHD. Many people with ADHD also have anxiety, depression, autism, sensory processing disorders, learning disabilities, chronic pain conditions such as migraine and fibromyalgia, and even bipolar disorder. Many things can occur together so the list can kind of be endless.

My own comorbidities:

My own ADHD is comorbid with Generalized Anxiety Disorder, Bipolar Disorder, Fibromyalgia, PTSD, Migraine, and Dyscalculia (the math learning disability or "math dyslexia") and I also believe I have some sensory issues. This makes life very difficult for me, it causes an avalanche of challenges that just compound with each other to create a perfect storm of issues to be treated. Treatment for me is very complicated and this adds to the stress and challenges in my life.

ADHD and comorbid conditions challenges:

Having ADHD and comorbid conditions causes a lot of challenges that interfere with your life. With ADHD your executive function and working memory are challenged. If you add Generalized Anxiety Disorder, migraine, fibromyalgia, and Bipolar disorder to it they are even more challenged so things like hobbies, housework, careers, relationships, learning, cooking, and more are impaired by them. It is hard enough remembering things and focusing long enough to get through all the steps of a task with ADHD alone, each condition you add to it makes it even harder to remember, focus, and sustain motivation to complete activities you need to get done. It can be hard to remember all the chores you need to do around your house from beginning to end, especially if they have more than one step to them like laundry does. At work, it can be hard to complete projects that have many steps to them, and it can be hard to focus through an entire meeting or multiple meetings. Often times people with ADHD and comorbid conditions spend time at work returning to the printer several times because they've forgotten to grab their printout more than once, or having to ask people to repeat instructions or resend emails to them a lot because they forgot what it said and accidentally already deleted it from their inbox.

Organizing for those of us with ADHD and comorbid conditions can be extremely difficult. It can seem like a magic trick when other people organize their homes, desks, bags, purses, etc. Another thing that happens is that we can organize for a day or so and then the clutter begins to return. One thing I have extreme difficulty with is keeping my desk and apartment from ending up full of piles. That is my default organization system, put it in a pile.

One thing I and a lot of other people with ADHD and comorbid conditions struggle with is finances. For those of us with both ADHD and dyscalculia, numbers are like a foreign language, we just cannot wrap our brains around them. This makes budgeting and dealing with money very hard. It can be hard for us to recognize amounts and this leads us to issues knowing how much money we actually have in our bank accounts, add to this ADHD's impulsivity and you have a recipe for disaster. We often have overdrawn bank accounts, unpaid or late-paid bills, and seem to never have enough money coming in to cover what goes out. And budgeting is a concept our brains just cannot seem to grasp very well, it's like asking someone to do calculus who hasn't even taken algebra yet.

For those of us with ADHD and dyscalculia, calculus is a math we never made it to in school, we likely got stuck in algebra or geometry so we were never eligible to take that course. For me, even elementary/middle school math was difficult, let alone algebra and higher math courses. I barely passed prealgebra with a D, and I scraped by in algebra with a C. I also managed a C in geometry and at that point, I had enough math credits to graduate high school and was unable to get into trigonometry, which was the next class after geometry. The only math I took in college was economics, statistics, and math of finance. I had to get a tutor for all 3 of them. I managed to pass with a C in economics and statistics and I somehow got a low B in math of finance. Math is just difficult. It's literally like learning Greek or something for me, a whole other extremely difficult-to-learn language.

Treatment for ADHD and comorbid conditions:

Treatment for people with both ADHD and comorbid conditions is complex and multilayered. It does not work to treat just the ADHD and not the other conditions. Treatment needs to address all of the issues, from ADHD to Bipolar Disorder, to Fibromyalgia, Dyscalculia, Migraine, Anxiety, and PTSD to work. If you leave any of them untreated, that untreated disorder will undermine the others. You also have to be careful with what you treat things with so that the treatment for anxiety doesn't exacerbate the ADHD, the ADHD treatment doesn't aggravate the anxiety, and the treatments for those don't exacerbate the Bipolar Disorder, etc.

Closing:

Having ADHD and comorbid conditions is a complex, multilayered situation that requires a variety of different approaches to treat and manage well. It has a huge impact on the life of the person who has them and it takes a lot of work and finesse to manage life with them. Life is complicated with these conditions altogether but it can still be fulfilling and joyful. Stay tuned to My ADHD Chronicles for more great information and insight into ADHD and how to live with it.

[altruisticenigma]

My doctor two appointments ago hinted I possibly could have ADHD. At my most recent appointment, she suspected strongly that I have ADHD. Now I've been thinking about it nonstop, thinking back to what I thought was innocent/small details that were probably symptoms all along, and it's been on my mind ever since.

I'm 27, and what the fuck- I might have ADHD on top of the host of other mental illnesses I have???

Warning, this is a long one- but as a 27 year old coming to terms with a possible new mental illness I think that's more than acceptable, lol. TW: Mentions of CPTSD/PTSD, depression, anxiety, ADHD and all related symptoms, and mentions of medication.

This began because I needed to be put back on some sort of medication. I was suffering from pretty bad anxiety; it was difficult to function because I would worry constantly about everything big and small. I have CPTSD/PTSD and it was getting in the way of life- I catastrophize & have hypervigilance; I cope by trying to control situations best I can. It's hard to let go of control. What got me in the office was that for the last 6 months, it's been extremely difficult to get out of bed and go to work. It was like I was hitting this invisible wall and I didn't know why. Nearly ever week I'd call out because I felt overwhelmed.

Wellbutrin helped subside a lot of the emotional aspects. A majority of my panic & fear subsided, but some symptoms still lingered. For one, a way that I coped with my anxiety was to constantly assign myself daily tasks: if I could get something done I'd feel better from the serotonin it fed me. I also felt restless if I wasn't doing something productive. I still couldn't sit down and relax; something that other people could do that I couldn't and I didn't know why. The other was that I still had bouts of insomnia; every few weeks like clockwork I'd wake up around 1-3 AM and it'd be hard to go back to sleep. Just last night I woke up at 3AM, hypervigilant as Hell out of nowhere. Most nights I am just very hungry and sit up for a bit before going back to sleep.

While I was mostly more functional and could now go to work with little to no problem, I still was having issues with being calm.

We tried putting me back on Lexapro. Historically it had worked. Instead it made my anxiety worse; it felt like I was back to square 1. Wellbutrin was the only thing that worked, which is a mood stabilizer. At this point I had gone through 3-5 SSRIs/SNRIs and they weren't helping, only the mood stabilizer.

I explained how my anxiety manifests to my PCP. I have the restlessness/need for control through tasks, as well as insomnia, but also the hypervigilance as well as the catastrophizing. I explained to her that I always thought that my fiancé was going to die behind the wheel no matter what they were doing in the car- every single time. I explained that when doing my job, I always anticipated someone yelling at me. These fears had subsided significantly with Wellbutrin, but they were still there nonetheless lingering in the background.

So my main issues were the hypervigilance & catastrophizing, feeling restless/needing control and the issues with sleep.

It was then she made a observation: it was possible I may have ADHD and the things I was doing were a unconscious coping mechanism. For one, I kept failing SSRI/SNRIs. Although it's a given I have a genetic disposition to bipolar in my gene pool (hence why they keep failing), I don't present any active symptoms at the time. According to her they should work to a degree, not adversely. Second, I have a strong genetic disposition to ADHD: we strongly suspect my mom has it, she just isn't formally diagnosed, but my brother is definitely diagnosed and has struggled with it most his life.

Her primary observation was the third: my restless symptoms are presenting as more of the "HD" problem in ADHD: too much energy with nowhere to go. I overwork myself by assigning tasks and overachieving to cope with the energy I have on hand. By doing extra tasks and chores, on one hand it may be a "need for control" aspect but the other may be restlessness I am trying to cope with. She noted that I have the "focus" part down- I'm very organized and able to stay on task, but I struggle with the energy. She noted that with "feminized" brains (lol, I laughed a bit inside when she said this- I'm non-binary but I get what she was saying) it tends to get misdiagnosed or overlooked due to anxiety: girls tend to present very differently than boys with ADHD. TL;DR she was saying sexism was why girls were disproportionally diagnosed to boys, especially at a young age.

This absolutely blew my mind, as you could see.

Ever since I was young I had no problems in school. Overachiever, good grades, laser-beam focused in school. Homework was not a problem. I liked routine, and I liked sticking to it. While my brother really struggled with remembering tasks and keeping to a schedule, I excelled in it.

When I developed PTSD in college I did begin to struggle a lot with focus. It would come and go because my brain was so chaotic; there was constant chatter in there. During the early stages of PTSD I would completely lose focus if I was really stressed out and needed accommodations in school. PTSD made me feel like my brain had been scrambled and I could no longer control it. Despite this I recall in college I had no problem focusing on assignments for hours: I once had a lab to do and I didn't take a break for 4 hours. I used to commend myself on my strong work ethic; this was normal for me from middle school and beyond... But now looking back with a fresh perspective, I realize this could have been ADHD working strangely in my favor.

I have also been organized to a insane degree my entire life, too. Increasingly more in high school, college and beyond. Nowadays I try to remember to do menial tasks by writing in a planner: they may seem unimportant to someone else, but to my brain it's imperative I remember and put it somewhere else on paper so I don't keep dwelling on it/needing to repeat the thought so I remember it, or have it float in my brain. I consider my home tasks so much more important than my work tasks; why, I don't know.

I've also been noticing minor but important details that could've alluded to ADHD but were overshadowed by more pressing mental health issues such as my depression, anxiety and CPTSD/PTSD. With Wellbutrin in my system it's been getting fairly easy to notice small details that I would've waved off in the past, but now with this new perspective and medication are very significant:

I never noticed how chaotic and disorganized my mind-chatter was until I was on Wellbutrin. The moment I started taking Wellbutrin my mind became very calm and quiet, so quiet it surprised me. I also never noticed how slightly incoherent, disorganized and rapid my speech was until I was on Wellbutrin, either. While on this medication, I have found I can form much more organized thoughts and speak slower and clearer. Whether that's panic or ADHD, I have no clue.

At least once a day I will be in the middle of saying/doing something and completely forget what I'm doing. I try to retrace my steps or my conversation to remember, only to have it gone entirely. It'll come back eventually, I just can't get it back in the moment.

According to my fiance, I tend to go down "rabbit holes" in the middle of our conversations (I haven't noticed this at all). I'll be on one topic, divulge into another possibly related topic and come back to where we were. I never thought it was important as at least I come back to the topic on hand. Sometimes I have caught myself completely forgetting what I was talking about.

The whole reason I started Wellbutrin is because I realized that I couldn't "bootstraps" my way out of whatever was happening to me: I realized I had a hard time getting out of bed for work. I attributed it to depression. While Wellbutrin significantly helps with this, in the past week or so I've been hitting this wall again where I don't want to go into work. It's like the task itself is difficult. I see it as a big, huge task that I don't want to bother with, even though realistically I realize that what I do for a living isn't the most difficult job. I thought it was depression, but it might be executive dysfunction.

I have hyperfixations: I will hyperfixate on something that I absolutely get lost in the sauce about for a month or two, and once I drop it I get sad/absolutely bored out of my mind until I find something new. I remember thinking during hyperfixations that I hope that I don't lose this passion because I don't want to be without this feeling of absolute pure joy and passion. Right now I'm very into FFXIV and building my character and their world.

I deleted social media like TikTok, YouTube and other streaming platforms off of my phone because I will scroll for hours and get stuck. I can't move. It's like I'm hypnotized and focused hard on whatever I'm watching. TikTok I deleted mostly because it made me Severely Mentally Ill, but also because I found myself stuck on it for 2-3 hours at a time and unable to take a break. I ended up doing the same thing on YouTube shorts, so I also had to delete that, too.

I vocally stim. A lot. Especially at home where it's safe and only when I feel safe/happy. But I just attribute that to being neurodivergent in general, lol.

I never thought I could've had ADHD because unfortunately I always had the stereotypical picture of ADHD in my head: someone who couldn't focus at all, who struggled with time-management, and someone who got distracted easily. A lot of the focus-related issues. That's what my brother struggled with, so I didn't think twice about me having it. My best friend also had similar symptoms so I had no clue it could present differently among people. As someone who never had struggled with focus, or at least to what I could've noticed consciously, I didn't conceive that I could have ADHD: I thought it was just about struggling with being attentive. Never did I realize I could have a restless/energy issue but be fine in the focus category.

The only way to know for certain what's going on is to see a neuropsychiatrist, which my doctor referred me to. As ADHD is very closely related to all of my already-diagnosed illnesses I know that it is possible it could be just PTSD scrambling my brain or anxiety making things difficult again. It has just been super heavy on my mind how this could be possibly ADHD and I had NO idea, nor did I ever suspect myself of possibly having ADHD once in my life.

Just goes to show you mental health is a fucking doozy of a thing.

[hitaka5ever]

I haven't been on social media much for months and I'll explain why here and how I plan on finishing the rest of the year and what my goals for next year are (I will probs forget to do it later, hence why I'm doing it now)

Anywho, my main reason for being away is for my mental health that has gotten much worse since the end of summer, mainly of course to do with the genocide of Palestinians and the amount of information that has been shared by millions. I've kept my eye on the atrocities on and off since it started, getting some info from family, who I visited recently, but for the most part I've avoided minute-by-minute coverage

I'm a very empathetic person. This means I have a strong sense of noticing others' emotions that become a part of me after enough exposure to them. So for example, if someone I know is extremely sad or cries, even though I'm not experiencing their sadness or pain, I get emotional along with them (since I spend 99% of my time with mum, we feed off each others' feelings and physical attributes the most)

So my depression and anxiety are the main reasons for my absence on everything but YouTube and email. I ultimately have to take care of myself before I can worry about anyone or anything else

I'm back to seeing a therapist every other week on Thursdays via Zoom. She's the first therapist I've ever had that's asked me what my main goals with therapy are and what I'm looking for. My last therapist asked the same thing, but we never actually went over anything practical. Right now, my severe anxiety is what's ruining my life the most, so I wanted to focus strictly on that for now. I want to know what I need to do to combat my anxiety in specific situations, like being out in public places

I've brought up before that I have severe hearing sensory overload. If too many physical noises (meaning stuff not on a screen or through speakers) surround me, I get very jittery and weird feeling in my head and body. I have to leave the room when it gets really bad. Normally I can calm down within 5 minutes of leaving the situation, but that's only if I'm in between 2 people talking with each other. It's a lot worse when they're talking over one another. My worst experience was having sound inside and outside my house that surrounded me on all sides. It took ~30 minutes to return to normal after I went into a secluded area to listen to music with headphones on. As you can imagine this is way too much stimulation for my broken brain to handle, so finding jobs out in the real world are very hard on me

That comes to my next bit of information: I'm still unemployed and looking into temporary disability through my therapist while I learn to take control of my anxiety. I have severe PTSD from being bullied in middle school, living with a mentally abusive parent, and having experienced a terrible car accident almost a year after I graduated high school (this was in 2009) So trusting people on and offline (less so online) has made my adult life very difficult. Riding in vehicles to reach a certain destination was the absolute worst symptom of my mental illness from 2009-2021, and even now I get very subtle anxiety knowing when I have places to get to. I'm obviously loads better than I was back then thanks to meds, but now I have employment to think about, which brings on its own problems

Finding jobs that don't include retail, fast food, or talking to people face-to-face or via phone, especially in my shitty small town, is a nightmare. I've tried finding work remotely at home, but there's always at least 1 requirement that makes me ineligible for the job. I want to make money making digital art, but I lack the skills and exposure in a world where even the most experienced freelancers are struggling to make ends meet (bc of artificial images (AI) taking over the community) As you can tell, this gives me very limited job opportunities and I don't know if I qualify for disability on a normal basis rather than a temporary one, so either way I have less than $150 left in my bank and unable to pay my parents rent bc of all of this

But things here aren't all bad. I enjoyed going to stay with my sisters for all of November where they live, getting to spend time with 4 cats and a foster baby (I did get a bad cold the last week of vacation, but that was the only bad thing about the trip) and coming home to have something I haven't had since 2020

We are fostering a purebred Pitbull girl named Stella for the rest of the year. She's 8 years old but still in her prime and we have become best buds (and napping pals) since day 1. This was a trial run to see if she would be the right fit for the family, and so far everything's been going great, minus her ear infections that we're taking care of. Stella has basically become my dog and we're likely keeping her for the remainder of her life. She's the sweetest and most chill dog I have ever met and I fell in love with her immediately. It took her 2 days of coaxing to be used to getting on my bed, with and without me, and she follows me everywhere I go, so we're bonded for life lol

So that's the most exciting news I have to share about what's been happening with me. I get to go into the new year owning my very own dog and learning how to cope with my anxiety before and after it starts, so I'm looking forward to the new year

Speaking of the new year (I'm almost done, promise!) I have a few goals for 2024 that I really want to stick to my guns about

Run a successful Kickstarter making and selling fire-breathing insect and bug stickers

Making extensive reference sheets of my OCs and fan fiction characters (eg my werewolf au and LoZ stories)

Learning (digital) art restoration. When I visited my sisters, my oldest was gathering foster kid stuff when she became a foster parent, and she got a set of Mega Building Blocks that had significant wear and tear. Some of the pieces with stickers on them were faded and peeling off, so I want to remake those stickers, get them printed, and give them to my sister so she can restore the broken pieces for her future foster kids. This gave me the idea of restoring art that has worn down or ruined over time. I like taking electronics apart and putting them back together again and I enjoy the assembly and design of things, so I think restoring physical items could become a potential art job

Learn basic idle animations of characters and objects. A Clip Studio Paint user makes tutorial videos on the official English CSP YouTube channel, and their latest is simplistic animations in CSP, so I want to try it out and offer it as a commission option if I'm comfortable with the process

Cartoonify famous or interesting places from real life, such as cool cities/towns, schools/colleges, or the Seven Wonders of the World, etc

Visit my friends at our homes or going out to restaurants and into town. My anxiety has made being around the friends I've grown up with really hard as well, not just with employment, so I want that to change a lot too

Legally change my name and gender after wanting to for the last few years (Rocky Dean (dad's middle name) Fuller (mum's maiden name))

Look into getting top surgery in the next 3+ years. I'm finally to the point where having breasts is ruining my life physically (back pain) and mentally (dysphoria) so I need to find a surgeon that doesn't require weight loss or hormone therapy to do the procedure

Just do art in general

That's all for now!

[thedaveandkimmershow]

It’s not hard to think of human beings as overwhelmed. It’s not difficult to think of our design as compromised.

Call it what you will. Call it design. Call it optimization.

To my way of thinking, there are so, so many people experiencing events, circumstances, and plot twists they simply cannot handle successfully and sustainably. They're not optimized for life that's thrust on them and so, predictably, they fail in a multitude of ways. Their biological systems, their neurological systems, are not. Meant. For this.

Whatever "this" is.

"This", by the way, can be anything. "This" can be more than one thing. It can be more than one thing happening sequentially or simultaneously. Because there are many, many ways of overwhelming human biological and neurological systems.

When I made this video for the then newly released song "Crying for a Christmas", I wasn't thinking about PTSD, Complex PTSD, Acute Stress Disorder, Depression, Anxiety, and so on. I was thinking about disaster. I wasn't thinking about aftermath. I was thinking about traumatic events, moments of extreme pain and anguish. Not the resulting and relentless trauma.

I was thinking about a terrible moment in time. Not Time itself.

In my rush of creative inspiration, I didn't stop to consider how human pain, human trauma, radiates through time like an explosion, propagating physical and mental debris through an ever expanding field. Propagating plenty of collateral damage whilst doing so. Which is why, I suspect, several friends of mine who are therapists, are focused on pain, focused on trauma no matter how far back it goes. Because they have no interest in playing mental health Whack-A-Mole. They're after root causes. They're seeking the genesis of pain and trauma propagating through time and space and other people... because that's the only way to manifest healing.

One more time:

That's the only way.

To manifest healing.

This video, then, is not only what I intended it to be... you're also looking at the genesis of traumas to everyone who experienced these catastrophes, these evils.

And chances are... for many, for most even, these are not the only traumas in their lives. And their experiences of trauma are creating an ever widening space between what their lives are and what their biologies and neurologies require. It's a space in which consequences fill that available space. And if more space is created, those consequences expand to fill it.

And so on.

The tell-tale sign of a system that’s compromised, overwhelmed in some way, is that the system suddenly acts in random, unpredictable ways. The system loses its ability to fulfill its design intent.

Think of an operating system that’s been compromised by a virus. Or a computer overheating from a busted fan. Nothing works the way it’s supposed to.

Nothing works.

The way it’s supposed to.

And so it is with you ‘n me.

It’s an important idea to remember. It has all kinds of implications. Certainly it’s a reality that cries out for healing across a dizzying array of human beings in every avenue of life. 

So.

Is Christmas really the time to be thinking about this?

Yes.

Yes because the Christmas season isn’t immune to human pain and trauma. It is not that kind of no-fly zone. And, in many ways, we are exquisitely aware of the season as it’s supposed to be... versus the reality we’re living.

And the space between those two poles?

It’s where a lot of things go wrong.

So yeah. It’s important to be paying attention even in this season of Peace, Love, and Joy. After all, Peace, Love, and Joy aren’t bestowed on us just as soon as we hit December 1st. They’re the manifestation of what’s going on inside us.

And it’s important to know with whom that Peace, Love, and Joy...

Needs to be shared.

Because open hands and open hearts.

You know?

🙂

[coffinofconfections]

Mom's been silent and it's the holidays, aka; oh no

My mom usually asks me by now what I'd like for Christmas or brings up something about it. The last I heard from her was before Thanksgiving — the day before — when she invited me over. I told her if it was just her and dad I'd consider it, but if others would be there I'd decline because I'm trying to stay COVID-free. I had a bad reaction to the vaccine that made my chronic illnesses worse, so my doctor doesn't think it's safe for me to get further doses. I'm basically unprotected at this point. Hence why I would decline.

Mom said okay, that she understood, and I asked her to keep me updated on what was going on. She said if others came then she'd bring me a plate of food later in the day or the next day.

That was the last I heard from her. Sometimes she goes silent, but I usually hear from her by now. The last time she went silent around Christmas, she was very angry at me for speaking up about my childhood trauma, and she and dad lied about me and gaslit me and my brother verbally abused me on my blog based on their lies.

Based on past patterns, I'm genuinely scared she found out about my book that I published about my life. It's fictionalized, but it has real moments of my life as a child surviving through some really tough trauma. I used different names, although they are still close. I tried to keep it from my parents, especially the sequel I'm going to publish in 2023, so we could keep some sort of peace despite me going mostly no contact. They're a serious trigger, which is a given.

Mom is also still in denial and so is dad, even though his health is very bad. Just like my days living at home, even as an adult, I never knew which version of mom I would get. Was she in a bad mood and looking to fight? Or was she having a good day and giving me gifts and taking me out to lunch? There was never consistency.

Mom and dad don't say sorry. They just move on and act like nothing happened, and if you bring up anything that they did that hurt you they get extremely angry, gaslight, or blame you for the abuse, or they say I only remember the bad things. I've tried talking about it. It just won't happen.

So... when mom goes silent around the holidays I am on edge. Holidays are already difficult for me, but the constant feeling of not knowing because my parents do the silent treatment thing, or they don't communicate, or they could turn on you for daring to speak about anything they did wrong, puts me in a deep depression because I'm suddenly home again, sitting in my room having panic attacks whenever I hear them pulling in the driveway from work or just walking around the house.

The PTSD memory: 'Are they mad at each other and dad is going to take it out on me? Did I mess up somehow, or not clean well enough and mom and dad are going to get upset? Are either of them just going to walk in my room, look around, and start putting me down and pointing out all my faults?'

I've lived on my own for several years now, although my last apartment was a huge trauma trigger as I lived next to an abuser and around partiers who had really annoying friends who would scare me on purpose or cause problems. Since December of 2021, I've finally been living in a quiet house out by the country, although I miss the city.

I've lost hope this cycle of trauma will ever end.

[muslimintp-1999-girl]

OK it is not always easy to stay by someone's side when they're struggling with mental health conditions. I just really thought baekdo would overcome it though.

But if we look at Heedo's life, she's very fast paced. She's used to going and grabbing. She's patient but only if she sees the light at the end of the tunnel. It is difficult for her to put herself in her mother's shoes coz her mother is a tsundere while Heedo is extremely expressive.

Heedo and Yijin are quite different too.

Yijin wasn't someone who makes decisions so easily, he was just thrown into a fast flowing current and did whatever to survive only to make mistakes or relapse.

Heedo's arrival gave him a sense of direction in his life, her mother became his role model.

Yijin's presence led Heedo to have experiences she despite being so extroverted couldn't have. His words and other forms of support were uplifting and helped her until she finally got the whole Korea to cheer for her.

After they completed their purpose in each other's life, they started to fade out. Yijin was now no longer her only cheerleader, it didn't matter as much if he missed uplifting her on 1 or 2 occasions because she now had other people, namely the whole nation cheering on her. Yijin finally found a direction and landed in a stable job. His main priority was to keep this job so he could fulfill his initial plan and promise to reunite his family and live with them in one place. And so he put that above meeting with Heedo and keeping his promise.

Heedo understood that his sorries felt more sincere because his priorities had shifted. It is a different thing to want to keep the promise and not being able to and another to not being able to keep the promise because its priority in your eyes has somewhat decreased in comparison to other stuff.

Also coming back to the first point, Heedo needs someone who can take care of himself and be responsible for his health. Yijin often struggles with that, though mostly to an amount that average people do, but still for Heedo that could be too much to handle. She's spontaneous and strong and young. She can't help Yijin much because he only opened up to her after he came to Korea and avoided her before that.

When she understood what he needed, it was already too late, their relationship had been affected and Yijin (hopefully) decided to work on his mental health first.

As viewers we hoped that after he had gone to therapy and resolved some of his ptsd, they could come back together again but sadly it didn't happen.

Did it happen because they grew and became different people who didn't communicate well and had personal struggles that should've been shared more or was it meant to happen from the start as they no longer were the only source of comfort in each other's lives?

Heedo didn't share (as far as we know) about her feeling the pressure of Koreans to defeat Yurim in Madrid. Yijin didn't share that it was all getting too much and getting to him, and causing him to relapse and spiral down, including going back to unhealthy coping mechanisms.

She did share many things with her diary, but she also kept many secrets to herself. So did Yijin.

Are love, a new relationship and breakup just one secret away sometimes? Does a secret make all the difference? Is it timing? Because Yijin did tell her that he was depressed in NYC but he told her "too late". Or perhaps Heedo had already made the decision by then, regardless of what Yijin tells her? Coz in her pov no reasons or justifications were worth it or valid for him to try to ghost her like, they would all always feel like excuses since she already carried this feeling of being neglected by her mom. So in a way it was Heedo too, her insecurity about people's love when they're distant, she could only bear them to a point. She did gain a closure about it with her mom, but it would always strike a nerve, wouldn't it?

Both my babies deserved to see a therapist and a relationship counsellor, and then if they decided to part it would finally be worth it coz they knew it would be the right decision. Just like the coach made Yeji do all that to make sure she won't regret.

The adult Heedo and Yijin just feel like they've a lot of unfinished business and eventhough there was an attempt for proper closure, it really didn't satisfy either of them.

So while I see what the writers were trying to do, I do feel it could've been executed in a better way.

[aro-is-gay-af]

The Midnight of Despair | Volturi Kings x fem!reader | Part 3

I reckon, that if you’re reading Part 3, then you know two previous ones. In case you didn’t read them yet: Part 1 | Part 2

Thank you for all warm words and praise! It means world to me. 

I also love this series, folks! I need to admit, I did get addicted to it a little, so I thought it’d be great to set updates schedule. It won’t be precise, but you can expect another part roughly in two weeks time from now. 

As per usual, sorry for any confusion and grammatical mistakes. 

Warnings: Rape (mentioned), Depression, PTSD, Forced Pregnancy, Blood

Word count: 6200

No summary this time. Also, this one has very sweet parts in it!!!

ENJOY!

The next day, you had your appointment with the doctor. A doctor was apparently a woman and you were sure the kings were paying her something extra for the visit to be immediate. Unfortunately, she didn’t know any English, as she was a local gynaecologist. Your mates didn’t want you to feel uncomfortable in any way, so before the visit, Aro asked you, who you’d like to be the translator for you.

The ideal situation would be a woman, but you didn’t trust anyone in the castle, except the kings. For this reason, your first shot was Aro, as he had already seen your memories. There was nothing that would shock him, you also didn’t need to hide anything from him and you knew, he was the best at dealing with others. You figured it’d be an ideal solution and you had to admit to yourself that you simply wanted him to accompany you.

The whole visit took place in your room, which meant a lot of carrying the necessary equipment, but more mental comfort for you. In those two days, you managed to get quite settled in and didn't want to leave the castle. You felt safe and secured in your suite. Kings seemed to notice that, as it was Marcus, who proposed, it would be a great idea to have an appointment without the need of leaving your room.

While you both were waiting for the doctor to come, it was the first time you had seen Aro with brown eyes. He looked really out of place. You shared this thought with him, by saying you prefer when his eyes are normal. That’s what it took. Two days, to consider red eyes normal. As usual, he was polite and revealed to you that he also hated the colour, let alone the lenses.

When the doctor finally arrived, you were already a nervous wreck. Aro tried to distract you, asking questions mainly about your house in Forks and whether you had already spoken to Bella about family heirlooms. He succeeded for a while, but it couldn't last forever, could it?

The lady was extremely kind and gentle. The truth was, it was hard to hide how stressed you were about this visit. You didn't want anyone to touch you, not when you weren't ready, and this time you definitely weren't. Despite the doctor's initial efforts, you were unable to shake her hand in greeting. She only smiled sadly, as if understanding perfectly what you were going through. Aro assured you beforehand, for he had not told her anything and only if you wanted to, you should share your trauma with her.

The doctor, seeing your nervousness, decided that you should talk first. While she asked you questions, you noticed that she chose her words carefully and only then did you realise that she was also stressed, but in her case it was probably Aro's presence that made her uncomfortable. Although Aro tried not to impose his presence on her, you understood why it might overwhelm the doctor. You felt confident being in the same room with Aro, while she probably sensed danger, even if she could not rationally explain it to herself. You promised yourself that you would try to learn at least the basics of Italian before the next visit.

She needed to ask you about exactly everything since, unfortunately, you didn't have any medical records with you - neither from the obduction, nor from the subsequent visit to the doctor, where you confirmed the pregnancy. You made a mental note to tell Bella about it, so she could send your documents, along with the things she was supposed to take from your house.

Aro was great in his translator role. Of course, you were still looking at the doctor, while answering the questions, but Aro’s voice, at least, soothed your shattered nerves just a little bit. When the questions started to get more complicated or more intimate, Aro used such words as to not make you feel uncomfortable, while still conveying the meaning.  The more difficult part started, when you had to describe the situation from the hospital and how long it took for the bleeding to stop. Every word seemed linked to a particular image or smell from that night, until finally, you were unable to say anything at all.

The doctor was very understanding, probably having already guessed what exactly was your weird behaviour all about. You didn't say anything directly, you only described the situation from the hospital and then told her the details of this strange bleeding after the rape. Mainly because the doctor was very concerned about it. She explained to you that it was definitely not normal, even if you had wounds inside.

The worst part, however, was the examination. You didn't even want to think about whether you would have to undress, but it turned out to be unnecessary. The doctor had a great intuition, even if she herself was under a bit of stress. You told her that, indeed, you had been to the check-up before and that was how you found out you were pregnant. And that the doctor then checked if all the wounds had healed. The lady didn’t discuss the issue, for which you were very grateful.

After the interview, the doctor told you to lie down on the bed and only pull your blouse up, high enough for your belly to be visible. You didn't feel comfortable with this, but you preferred this way to undressing from the waist down. This was the first time you didn't feel comfortable lying on that bed. You knew that once the visit was over, everything would return to normal, but it wasn’t meant to become a memory you would return to with pleasure.

As it turned out, your first trimester was long over. The pregnancy was about 14 weeks old and that would explain the slight curving of your belly. Before the appointment, you were not sure if you would even look at the monitor to see the baby, but you did. You could not deny yourself this. The room fell silent and you could not tell what you were feeling.

The doctor pulled out some kind of a strange device and after a moment, you could hear the baby's heart. You glanced in the direction of Aro, who was obviously alarmed by your face. You grimaced, too overwhelmed to say anything to him. Up until this point, you were sure that the decision, if you should terminate the pregnancy or not, would be fairly easy. Now, you were certain that nothing in your life could be simple enough.

 *

 Over the next few weeks, your day usually looked the same or similar, yet you managed to do something completely different every day. You were glad you had so much to do, because you didn't have time to think about what had happened. You didn't want to analyse it over and over again. The kings respected your choice - unless you yourself mentioned the traumatic events, not a single insinuation or implication about it fell from their lips.

Your days were filled with various activities. Every day you spent at least some time with each king in private - you knew you needed this to create and strengthen your bond. To keep you from being inundated with information, you learned something new from each of them about vampires and their lifestyle. After all, it was supposed to become your lifestyle in the nearest future. You discovered that thinking about your transformation caused you far less anxiety, than any memory associated with rape. Even after you learned that it more or less consisted of burning alive for a few days.

During your time with the kings, you tried not to show the insecurity you had acquired about your body, and yet, you were sure they knew anyway. However, the time spent with them was what you treasured most. With each of them you did something different, as you wanted to know what they like to do in their free time. Marcus, as he had promised on the first day, taught you Italian for two hours every day. It was not easy, but after a few weeks of intensive course and communicating in broken Italian, not only with Marcus, but also with the other two, you were able to maintain basic conversation.

Marcus was a great teacher, but that wasn’t the only reason why you loved spending time with him. He was the one who had the most time for you - he wasn't as busy as Aro or Caius, and besides, he had countless amounts of patience. He wasn't tired of your constant questions, not only about vampirism, but also about his past. You would often sit for hours in the library or in the gardens, which, by the way, were breathtaking. You both loved books and your only regret was that you weren't able to read most of their vast collection. Marcus assured you, you would have all eternity to do so. You could talk with him endlessly, as these conversations were truly effortless – even the most difficult topics seemed simple and uncomplicated.

You were surprised to learn about a gift of his. Your human mind was unable to comprehend it in the full sense of the word. Mostly because of this, he was the one to explain to you, what your bond even was and how exactly it worked. You have learned that after your transformation, you will feel the bond even more strongly. It is not often that one person has as many as three matches and is able to feel the bond while being human. Marcus explained to you that for now, both your mind and body are only subconsciously sensing the presence of the mates, as it’s impossible for human senses to do anything else.

It was so remarkable to you that you discussed it for hours. You also learned that the bond can be broken, as it is not forced in any way. However, this would be emotionally painful and very few vampires would choose to take such a desperate step.

One afternoon you were spending time in the garden again. You loved being outdoors, but for your own safety you did not go outside the castle grounds. Together, you decided that it would be safer to do only after your transformation. Besides, you didn't want to go anywhere. You were safe under the watchful eye of your mates and Renata, who, apart from the time spent with the kings and in your room, followed you in a constant manner.

The gardens were gorgeous and you wondered, who was taking care of all those magnificent flowers. You were strongly convinced that this was exactly what Eden might have looked like. You and Marcus had your favourite bench. You spent a lot of time outside, especially on sunny days. When you first found out why sitting in the sun might be a problem, you couldn't take your eyes off Marcus. He shimmered brilliantly, but your eyesight couldn't stand it for too long, because of the blinding effect. The gardens, however, were fenced off and inaccessible to the common passer-by, so you were safe to stay, as long as you wanted to.

“I asked Aro recently, if vampires can be killed in some way,” you began cautiously, not wanting to scare him away from this conversation. No one had talked to you about it, however, it still crossed your mind what state Marcus was in when you first saw him. You were willing to swear you looked exactly the same after your mother died. Now, knowing what all the mating bond was about, you were convinced that Marcus had lost someone dear to his heart.

As per usual, he smiled gently at you.

“I'm sure his answer was sufficient, my dear. What are you aiming at?” he asked, looking at you obliquely.

You took his hand in yours. With Marcus, physical contact was as easy as a conversation. He, however, never initiated any touch. He waited for you, just like he was waiting now, to reach for his hand or gently grasp his arm. The only movement he allowed himself was to stroke your hair every now and then, but only when he was absolutely sure you were willing.

“I wanted to ask what happens to the bond, when the vampire…is no longer here,” you said bluntly, not taking your eyes off him. Your understanding was unique. Marcus was gentle in manner, patient and extremely caring towards you. In no way did you want to ruin, what you had built over those few weeks.

His smile turned into one of the saddest you've seen on his face. By the time he answered, you regretted asking at all. You didn't want to cause him pain. You squeezed his fingers in your palm.

“Until you came to Volterra, I was sure that a vampire could only experience this special, unique bond once in a lifetime. I did experience it, yet this story does not have a happy ending,” he said, with utmost sadness in his voice.

Your heart ached, as you watched his suffering and grief. You had asked the question unnecessarily, but now there was no turning back. You continued to stroke his fingers, holding his hand securely in yours.

“When one of the vampires connected by mating bond dies, it does not mean that the bond disappears. It exists, but only on one side. It cannot be cherished, it cannot be repaired in any way. It isn’t reciprocated. What remains are the memories, and they are the only reminder of what the bond really meant, when it existed,” he explained in a distressed voice, slowly and carefully.

Holding his hand, you laid your head on his shoulder and sighed heavily.

“I'm so sorry this happened to you,” you whispered after a moment, feeling tears stinging under your eyelids. Even now, you couldn't imagine losing any of them and you couldn't possibly envision the amount of pain Marcus had gone through.

He embraced you carefully and gently hugged you to his side.

"Don't fret over it, cara. I've made my peace with it. However, that doesn't mean I've forgotten. I still miss her, after all these years," he said with longing in his voice, stroking your shoulder gently.

After a long moment of silence, you were in a genuinely poor condition. Tears dripped down your cheeks and your breathing quickened. Not only because of the pain Marcus must have gone through, but also because of your own yearning. You had come to terms with the death of your parents, but you missed them so much. You wanted to have them at least a little longer. Now, standing on the verge of immortality, you wished you had spent more time with them.

Marcus placed a kiss on your hair.

“Sob it out, dear. Nothing helps the soul more than honest tears,” he whispered, and you were ashamed, because you should be the one providing comfort for him. However, the memories were too fresh and you couldn't hold it back.

Once you had calmed down a bit, he handed you a handkerchief to wipe away your tears.

“I wish I could change my memories. Even if it was only for a brief moment to be able to forget that I will never see them again. To be able to forget what this…this monster did to me,” you whispered, snuggling tighter into his shoulder.

You heard his sigh and his embrace around your shoulder tightened.

“You have been terribly abused, cara. No one deserves such a fate. The most important thing now, is to get on with life. Our loved ones would not want us to dwell on their deaths,” he said, as wise and thoughtful, as ever. The hatred towards your abuser was palpable in Marcus’s voice.

“You are so good to me. I don't deserve this,” you whispered after a while, your voice swollen with emotion. He only smiled indulgently.

“You deserve the very best, dear. I've already lost one mate. I won't let anyone hurt you.”

“I’m sure she would be proud of you,” you said with compassion, after another moment of silence.

“I’m not quite certain about that,” he said, placing another kiss on the top of your head.

But you were sure. You were also sure, you would do anything to prevent Marcus from experiencing something like this again. You knew all too well the taste of grief.

 *

 You truly had little time to think about the rape and pregnancy at all. If you weren’t with Marcus, it was Caius who loved to kidnap you, so he could spent some private time with you. Caius was the complete opposite of Marcus – absolute chaos, you could say. You had no idea how the brothers even got along. You had already noticed that Marcus rarely spoke, while Caius was rather impulsive and liked to discuss things in detail. However, until you started spending time alone, you had no idea what he was really passionate about.

It turned out that his greatest passion was art. He would show you countless paintings he himself had painted throughout the centuries. He could talk for hours about types of paint and how to mix colours properly. Although you were not very good at painting, you tried to learn a little with Caius’ help. When he was alone with you, he was still abrupt and impulsive, but in a charming way. He never imposed himself on you and you discovered that annoying him was really great fun. So banter and frequent teasing were the order of the day.

You often spent afternoons and evenings with Caius. He taught you how to paint, but not only. Art history was his passion and you loved to listen to him tell stories. His voice was mesmerising and hypnotic. He also eagerly answered all your questions about vampire race. You listened about the horrible children of the moon and how Caius singlehandedly had almost slaughtered them all. He warned you that after the transformation you would be violent and impulsive, that you would have nothing on your mind but to satisfy your thirst. This frightened you slightly, but at times when things got weird or dangerous, Caius assured you that you would always have full support of your mates. You never doubted that. You knew they would help you to grow accustomed to your new life.

Caius loved every variety of art you could name. When he asked you for permission to sculpt you, you were so surprised that you made a strange sound. He said that, of course, he wasn't going to overstep your boundaries and you yourself would choose some beautiful casual attire, so he could portray your beauty in sculpture. All you had to do was dress once as he asked and stand in the right pose. He remembered every detail of your posture, including your facial expressions. Often, he would sculpt you, while you would talk about insignificant things also learning how to sculpt...well, things that didn't resemble anything. Yet, you wanted to be as good as he was.

You were in your nineteenth week, when he invited you for a long painting session. His studio was huge and consisted of nothing but breathtaking works of art. You were decorating some random sculpture that you had never seen before. Caius also loved contemporary art, so you could go wild. Taking classes with him was better, than any therapy. You could smear paint on everything - the canvas, the sculptures, yourself, and even him, because he was usually in a good mood and you could enjoy it. He never showed you even a trace of anger, and you, fooling around with him like that, were genuinely pleased and happy.

When you finished, the room looked rather bad, not to mention the clothes or your hair. Caius would never have appeared that way to the guards, let alone on trial, but with you it was different.

“I wanted to show you something,” he said, wiping the paint off your cheek.

You took his hand. Caius, like Marcus, did not invade your personal zone, unless you specifically gave permission. However, carnality and touch were important to him, and so, once you were more comfortable in his presence, he liked to show you affection by stroking your cheek or your back, and intertwining his fingers with yours, when you held hands. You didn't mind his cold skin – by now you were accustomed to it, as three of them had similar body temperature. You were the hottest here. Literally.

You walked slowly to another room.

“I didn't tell you, but I finished craving” he said, and you could hear the excitement in his voice. You smiled at him. That was the main reason why you had agreed to have yourself sculpted in the first place. You wanted to get close to him on a level, which was inaccessible to do in any other way.

“Before you show me, will you tell me as to where you even got the idea of carving me?” you asked, amused. Caius was much taller than you, you had to slightly lift your head to look him straight in the eye.

At first, he smiled archly, but immediately his smile softened. He pulled at the material that covered the sculpture, so that it fell to the floor. You were simply speechless. The woman, who stood opposite to you was over four metres tall. The sculpture was made of marble and the woman looked, as if she was an actual person. There was something elusive about her. Her face, thoughtful yet serene, her hair flowing freely over her shoulders onto her back. She was clad in a fine fabric that flowed in waves down to her bare feet. She looked nothing like you and yet, you two looked exactly alike.

You had no idea that you started crying. The woman was beautiful. You could feel the power and dignity emanating from her, and on the other hand, she seemed to you as if... fragile and ephemeral. Caius had captured in this sculpture all the feelings you had been feeling, without even knowing it.

You felt his hand on your cheek, his fingers gently wiping away your tears along with some paint, which remained on your face.

“I thought I would like you to see yourself through my eyes. Exactly as I see you – without a single flaw, yet with all your imperfections. I don't want you to be unable to look at yourself, because of what this animal did to you. I don't see it. I only see you, [Y/N]. The real you. Beautiful and fragile, yet powerful, without inhibitions or scruples. Capable of anything.”

The words were trapped in your throat. You wanted to say something, but you were sure, that as soon as you were going to open your mouth, uncontrollable sob would come out. You looked first at Caius, then at the woman carved in marble, then back at Caius. He only smiled gently.

“Who we are – we decide that ourselves. No one else does. To me, you are beautiful. Pure. Never think otherwise, dolcezza.”

Without warning, you hugged him so hard, that it hurt. You forgot that his skin was different from yours. He embraced you without hesitation, even though you were all covered in paint. You wept, cuddling into his chest, as he soothingly stroked your hair and back.

Once you had slightly calmed down, you looked up at him. His blond hair looked like a halo over his head. He amazed you in every sense of the word.

“Thank you. Thank you for letting me see this,” you whispered poignantly, and then went straight back to hugging him.

“There's nothing to thank you for, my lovely [Y/N]. I would like you to accept yourself as you are. Because you are truly magnificent.”

 *

 The only person you talked straightforward about pregnancy was Aro. Was it because of his gift? Most likely, and you simply felt you could trust him. From the moment you first found yourself in his arms, the bond between you two only strengthened. Also, a memorable visit from the doctor was also significant, and then, together with him, you went through the documents that Bella had sent you. To say he was furious, was an understatement. Yes, Aro saw your memories, but the reports were written from a third-person perspective. And the other evening was really awful – you couldn't stop crying because you couldn't block out the flow of memories.

You were close with each other; close enough for you to try to overcome your insecurities, to talk about how you really felt about this whole situation you found yourself in. It was far from easy, but Aro was a really patient specimen. In the course of these talks, you discussed practically everything. You knew that every scenario had to be worked out and discussed, because there were many different options of the outcome.

Despite many conversations, you were still unsure about keeping the baby. You didn't know if you wanted to, if you would be able to raise it and then tell it that it would forcibly have to become a vampire. After the doctor's appointment, things did not get any easier for you. You heard the heart and knew that the child was not to blame for its father’s actions. You were raped, but this child had nothing to do with it.

So you waited. You waited for a miracle to decide for you or for the baby to move when you were thinking of having it removed. It’d be a sign not to do it. However, nothing of the sort was happening and fate was not deciding for you. Aro convinced you that, even if you decided to have an abortion, there was nothing wrong about it. No one would blame you for it. The only person to blame here, was the monster who raped you.

You hadn't decided what you would do about the pregnancy, but you and Aro knew what would happen, if something went wrong. For your mates, it was your health and life that came first. Aro assured you of that a thousand times over. Because of this, if anything went wrong with the birth or if there were any complications, you were to be changed immediately. Also because of this, Aro talked to you about all aspects of your transformation. He was the one who introduced you to what transformation actually looks like. He didn't scare you with the pain you were about to go through, but only gave you the facts. Facts that you needed to know.

When you weren't talking about such serious matters, Aro also loved to spend time talking to you, but about different topics. He seemed to know all your thoughts, but you were still able to surprise him. He explained to you, that the human mind was more disordered and chaotic, than vampire one and that he certainly didn't see everything. Your brain chose the memories, often associated with strong feelings and emotions, which were meant to be remembered. You were joyful about this, because you could talk endlessly and he kept finding out something new about you. And you kept finding something new about him. You knew from the first moment that he was extraordinary, and the more you talked, the more you became certain about it.

Besides, Aro adored dancing. You were not convinced about this form of activity, but it was the intimacy of this act that convinced you. In his arms, no one was able to hurt you. You felt safe and, after many attempts, quite confident in your movements. He literally beamed, being able to teach you to dance and to be so close to you. You found nothing in his eyes but the infinite adoration he had for you. When you found out the reason behind this, your heart almost broke with sorrow and compassion.

“I must confess something to you, cara mia,” he whispered, holding you securely in his arms. It was evening, you had long since been prepared for sleep. He found your long nightgown to his liking, when he came to check how you were doing and if you needed anything. You rested your head on his shoulder. There was no music, he was the one giving the rhythm to your movements, yet it was the most wonderful dance you had yet had the chance to dance with him.

“Do tell, please,” you said, trying not to lose the rhythm. You were tired, as throughout the day you sorted through the things Bella sent you from Forks. In addition, you worked with Marcus to sell your house, because you were, after all, a little concerned about what hands your family home would pass into.

“I have been bound over the centuries to both men and women. My ex-wife, Sulpicia, whom you know and, to the best of my knowledge, whom I permitted to leave, was my faithful companion, basically from the beginning of my immortality. However, until now, I did not know what it meant to have a true mate.”

He tilted you gently, wishing to look into your eyes. You continued to sway to a non-existent rhythm, completely oblivious to your surroundings. You furrowed your brows.

“Are you serious?” you asked in a whisper, not wanting to ruin the moment. The light emanating from the candles, illuminated half of his face. He smiled, and you were unable to take your eyes off his red irises.

“Yes, my dear. I have waited over three thousand years for you. I must tell you, that I could wait another three millennia, only to see your beautiful face,” he said affectionately, holding you tighter against him to stroke your flushed cheek with his fingers.

Your eyes welled up with tears and he slowly bent down and kissed your forehead.

“That's enough for today, cara mia. You must rest well. Caius has something planned for tomorrow, but he didn't want to reveal what, under any circumstances,” he said amused, giggling under his breath. You loved when Aro was in a good mood, because then you were in a good mood too. Before he walked you to bed, he wiped away your tear. You squeezed his hand in yours, then climbed onto the bed. He covered you carefully with a duvet and stroked your hair.

“I'm glad I came here,” you whispered, looking into his eyes. “I never want to leave you,” you said with force. He smiled softly at you and stroked your hair once more.

“We will always be by your side, [Y/N]. Good night, cara.”

His voice so soft and tuneful that as soon as he snuffed out the candles, you drifted off to sleep in an instant.

 *

 Apart from the fact that almost everything was going great and your mental state was in constant improvement, your relationship with Bella had severely worsened. In the beginning you talked every evening. She still couldn't understand why you were selling the house and why you wouldn't, at least, want to visit Forks. After a while, you got fed up with explaining it to her. There were an awful lot of things she wasn't happy about and she didn't hide it. She kept criticising the Volturi without knowing them and having no idea, what they were actually doing.

You loved her like a sister, but because of that, she could annoy you exactly like one. Because of her pinching remarks and your lack of patience, you called each other less and less. You didn't want to keep getting annoyed and you were tired of explaining things to her. Besides, you didn't like that she didn't say a single good word about your mates. You at least tried to accept Edward. Suddenly, what he did to her was all forgotten and you couldn't understand it. You didn't know, what was happening to your sister and your stay in Italy didn’t exactly make things better. You still hoped that once you saw each other after the transformation, you would be able to explain it all to one another. You didn't want to lose Bella, the last person you considered family.

So you talked less and less or not at all, and when you did, you avoided difficult and sensitive topics. It was not like with Bella at all and it made you anxious. You were at ease with each other, almost always, and you didn’t get why she was so bitter and hateful towards your knew, chosen life. Especially, because partially your presence right then, in the trial chamber, was the reason for her to be alive at all.

Shortly after Caius presented you with your sculpted self, you were to spend the whole day together, the four of you. These were the days you loved the most. Although you cherished the time spent with each of your mates separately, the presence of all three put you in an ecstatic mood. You usually spent your afternoons like this – there were still a lot of things to do and solve, and a lot of trials to carry out.

Being in Volterra for so long, you learned a lot about the existing laws and how to enforce them. You knew that kings were not flawless, but it was logical to you that keeping the entire vampire world in line, required some sacrifices. Some greater than the other ones.

You usually sat down in the study, where you had ended the very first day, at a round table. You listened to the discussions and arguments, but also just spent time with your mates. You often sat on Aro's lap or tried to calm Caius down, when he became too agitated.

You were extremely excited since the morning, because they promised you a whole day outside. It wasn't often that all three of them wanted to spend time with you in the gardens, so you couldn't restrain your exhilaration. However, there were also days, or rather moments, when, under any circumstances, you could not leave your room. Such a moment was to occur today, after breakfast. You slept for a long time, almost until eleven o'clock. When you ate your breakfast, it was Renata who informed you that it was time to eat. Of course, you knew what it was about.

The only situation, in which you could not leave your chamber, was at lunchtime. Not yours, though, but the lunchtime of all the vampires, who inhabited the castle. For your own safety, usually for about two hours, you were not to leave and to occupy yourself with whatever you wanted. The only two hours, in which Renata or anyone else was not around you. Not many people knew about your stay in the castle and because of this, the kings decided that Renata should eat with the rest of the company.

You did not consider it strange in the slightest. Of course, you tried not to think about the fact that people would die, but you knew that they were chosen at random. Which meant that they could just as well have been run over by a car or they could have died in a fire. You did not think about it. You were just enjoying your two hours of freedom. Sometimes you sunbathed on the balcony, prepared your outfit or just played on the computer. These were little things that still reminded you of being human.

This week, when Renata told you that she would be gone for a while, you were already enjoying a long soak in the bathtub. The home spa was one of the favourite things you and your mum liked to do together. You poured hot water into the tub, applied a mask that you had prepared yourself with a few ingredients and relaxed.

Since you had no idea when, you were no longer afraid to look in the mirror. Sure, your body shape was far from ideal, but at least you weren’t terrified to look. You weren’t terrified to acknowledge that, yes, your body was raped, but you were recovering from it. And that you started to think that your body didn’t cause any of this.

After some time you spent in the bathtub, you felt a little dizzy. It wasn’t exactly a good sign, so you figured it’d be wise to get out of the tub. When you rinsed yourself off with clean water, you stood up, and that was the moment of terror. The room immediately started spinning, like you were on roundabout for the last forty minutes. You felt nauseous, but there was nothing near you to which you could cling to. You managed to step out of the tub, on the marble step, and then you felt it. Pain, excruciating pain, suffocation. Streams of blood went down your legs and before you fell onto the ground, you could only see white marble floor all covered in sanguineous blood.

[rpbetter]

PTSD or C-PTSD?

Hopefully, you’re not one of the muns out there who has slapped a “PTSD” label on your muse(s) for drama only. You are, instead, treating this topic with respect and the realism that comes with that, not only having it accurately impact your muse when it’s convenient and “fun” for you. Well, that respect and realism includes actually knowing and applying the correct diagnosis and symptoms as well.

In your defense, if you have misdiagnosed your muse, common terminology in media and even among trauma sufferers is often just the blanket-statement of PTSD. Also, as the abbreviations imply, they do have things in common. 

To help, I’m going to break down their differences and similarities, then provide some research links including personal accounts to help you get started.

PTSD

Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder most often comes from a single traumatic event.

What can be a traumatic event can differ widely, and reasonably so; we’re not all the same person, processing events and emotions the same way, or with the same formative life experiences. What might cause PTSD to develop in one person might be processed by another as a frightening or painful incident, but not one that has left them with PTSD. The symptoms, individual, and incident have to all be taken into account.

That being said, some examples would include:

having a severe accident

being mugged or in a store that is robbed

physical or sexual assault

being involved in a shooting, in any way

death of a loved one

an unexpected explosion or sudden, natural event like a mudslide or tornado

a severe natural or man-made disaster (building collapse, mass flooding)

events outside of oneself like witnessing a violent assault, murder, deadly car accidents, terminal illness or injury

Again, it is important to remember that individuals react in individual ways, and as such, their symptoms can express with some variation. Don’t just mimic the same presentations you’ve seen in media, research a variety of real experiences.

However they manifest, key symptoms of PTSD include:

Re experiencing the event by way of nightmares, flashbacks, and repetitive, intrusive, and intensely upsetting images, thoughts, and sensations. This is the most common symptom of PTSD, in which the person involuntarily and vividly relives the trauma.

Avoidance and emotional numbing, going to extremes to avoid not just potential triggers, but also finding any way possible to push memories of the event out of their minds. When the latter occurs and is extreme, the person is trying to feel nothing at all, seeking a path to emotional numbness. That can include substance use and abuse, self-harming, and other harmful behaviors.

Feeling on edge (”Hyperarousal”) is the ultimate inability to relax, constantly looking for threats, perceiving threats that are not to be found, and being easily startled. Some of the common issues with being locked into this state include difficulty sleeping or even insomnia, severe irritability and irrational seeming aggression, angry or aggressive outbursts, and finding concentration difficult to impossible.

Some other things that might develop with PTSD are:

Other mental health concerns like anxiety, depression, and/or phobias

as said above, harmful behaviors like self-harming and substance abuse

physical symptoms like headaches, stomach and digestive upsets, dizziness, and generalized pain

Like all disorders, PTSD is complex. I, again, implore you to research not only information put out by psychiatric professionals but also the experiences of real people.

C-PTSD

Complex Post Traumatic Stress Disorder occurs when a person experiences repeated, consistent trauma, especially at an early age.

That doesn’t mean that adults cannot and do not develop C-PTSD, they do, and for a variety of reasons; adult sufferers have the same points of origin in the diagnosis as children do. Additionally, it may take years for someone to seek help, feel their symptoms are severe enough to need to, or be able to extricate themselves from the situation in order to receive help of any kind. They may be an adult by the time this happens.

The important thing to remember about C-PTSD is that it isn’t a single traumatic incident, and you are more likely to have this form of PTSD if the trauma occurred early in life, it was inflicted by someone close to you, and/or was inflicted by someone you still see on a regular basis.

Some good examples to give you the idea include:

ongoing domestic violence

child abuse and/or neglect

being raised by a parent with a severe disorder like Narcissistic Personality Disorder

repeatedly witnessing violence or abuse

torture

kidnapping

being a part of a cult

being a victim of human trafficking or slavery

It isn’t “complex” because it is always across the board “more severe.” This isn’t simply “even worse PTSD,” and shouldn’t be treated like that. Its source is more complex, the development and embedded varieties of its impact are, and the ongoing treatment is.

Particularly when C-PTSD occurs in childhood, there are lasting effects on a person’s development. They have developed in an environment that constantly has them highly stressed both physically and psychologically, and in which they learn many ways of coping, lessening or negating harm, and so on, that leave them less than optimally functional and integrated in life outside the situation.

While the person has the symptoms of PTSD, they will additionally exhibit:

difficulty developing and/or maintaining relationships of any sort

intense, consistent feelings of worthlessness, shame, and guilt

problems managing and even understanding their own emotions

suicidal thoughts

dissociation

increased risk-taking behaviors

Those who have had their actual development rerouted to deal with the situations that generate C-PTSD have a higher incidence of physical symptoms, suicide, self-harm, substance abuse, and are at higher risk of repeat victimization.

They might go for some time without realizing that their daily experiences are neither the norm nor something sustainable, or how atypical their traumatic experiences were compared to those around them. It can sometimes take a serious life-event (suicide attempt, drug rehab, losing too many jobs, homelessness, or finding themselves in a genuine, loving relationship) for them to fully recognize something is wrong, and even then, their feelings of worthlessness, ingrained lack of self-confidence, and belief that they don’t deserve any better can prevent them from seeking help outside of themselves.

They may also believe that something is just “wrong” with them, that they are innately messed up, or that they have a different mental illness. And the unwillingness to open up to people, relieve events, etc. can additionally leave them unwilling to seek or continue care when they believe they have a different, underlying problem. Again, choosing to deal with this themselves through self-isolating, self-medicating, and seeking only relationships and jobs that will work within the framework of the disorder as it effects them.

Additionally, many sufferers of both C-PTSD and PTSD experience the same sense of societal shaming surrounding mental illness. They may struggle with denial, and refuse to seek assistance due to the stigma and all it entails.

Shared aspects of PTSD and C-PTSD

They’re both, obviously, severe, life-altering trauma experiences and resultant disorders. They both easily make the sufferer feel like the trauma and disorder is impossible or undesirable for others to deal with, that they are not worthy of being in close relationships, among many other similarities in experience living with either disorder regardless of widely varying traumas.

They share psychological and physical impacts, and there is a lot of overlap.

The core symptoms of PTSD are shared with C-PTSD:

relieving the trauma(s)

avoiding and emotional numbing

hyperarousal

The shared physical symptoms can include:

headaches

nausea, stomach ache, and digestive upsets

difficulty sleeping and insomnia

sweating, clamminess

chest pain and difficulty breathing

manifestations of low-grade to severe pain

dizziness

Shared behaviors can include:

difficulty concentrating to outright dissociating

self-harm

substance abuse

being hyper-vigilant, easily startled

may seem to be over-reactive to/in situations that others are perceiving as normal or not that big of a deal due to lower perception of personal emotions and lower emotional regulation

including explosive anger or defensiveness

development of anxiety and depression disorders, the symptoms thereof

Again, both PTSD and C-PTSD are serious disorders caused by trauma, and they both need to be treated with respect and accuracy when written into a character - be that an OC or a canon character. It is unfortunate, but these symptoms and the realities of life with either disorder are often portrayed badly in wider media, and the RPC often imitates what it sees.

PTSD and C-PTSD, like the incidents of trauma that created them (rape, child abuse, domestic violence, miscarriage, etc.), are not a plot-point, other point of interest, or a character trait, let alone a “character flaw.” They’re not something you only bring up for attention, to get your muse out of a bad spot, or to add dramatics when you’re bored in a thread. Neither are they something you need to attach to your muse simply to give them A Label. These are, I cannot stress this enough, serious topics, and they deserve to be treated that way.

You can do that by defining which variety of PTSD your muse may actually have, then adding research of both the disorder and how it impacts a variety of real people. Making your muse more realistic and being dedicated to sticking with it.

Below are some links to get you started on research! Please note, the real stories, as well as some information, may be graphic or triggering. Read responsibly.

C-PTSD

Out of the Storm - Personal Stories of C-PTSD 

-Contains real stories from those with Complex Post Traumatic Stress Disorder. Their experiences have a huge range; bullying, childhood neglect and abuse, and sexual abuse and assault.

 I Have Post-Traumatic Stress and Didn’t Know It - and You Might, Too

-Personal story of living, unknowingly, with C-PTSD. An especially great read for writers who have muses who hold a lot of responsibility in their daily lives, who may not realize their experiences are C-PTSD related, etc. Contains discussion of parental emotional abuse, mental illness and childhood trauma, and rape.

What is C-PTSD?

-Excellent resource for detailed breakdowns of C-PTSD giving without a clinical, impersonal tone. The definitions of the disorder itself, symptoms and how it manifests and impacts daily life, and much more. A highly recommended source, and one with further resources on-site.

 11 “Habits” of People Living with C-PTSD

-Short breakdown of C-PTSD, followed by snippets of specific experiences in the words of those living with the disorder, a relatively short article.

PTSD

Rebecca’s Story: Living with Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder

-Personal story of a woman living with PTSD from, in short, being stalked by a co-worker. It’s an excellent article, particularly for how mental illnesses sufferers are treated and portrayed, and how that adds another layer of difficulty to their lives. Obviously, this may be triggering to those who have been stalked, and includes mentions of graphic threats.

My experience of PTSD

-A personal story of medical trauma resulting in PTSD. Many of the PTSD stories you’ll find are from women and involve sexual trauma or harassment, in trying to find a variety of stories, I’ve found this one. By this point, you should be noticing many similarities in these stories, regardless of specific trauma.

Leaving the Battlefield: Soldier Shares Story of PTSD

-So many muses experience PTSD through battle-related incidents, and those depictions are not always accurate in media. This is a personal story about one soldier’s experiences. His perception of PTSD, denial, and shame at having the disorder is something that echoes throughout the previous accounts. So do the similarities of daily struggles to maintain to regular life. Before anyone wants to get Tumblr Nasty about it: there isn’t any “war propaganda” present in this story, the location of it is irrelevant to what you’re supposed to be learning here. It’s literally this man’s experience, don’t.

Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder 

-Breakdown of symptoms and causes from Mayo Clinic, so obviously, this is more clinical-minded. Particularly useful for its lists of things like “symptoms of negative changes in thinking and mood” and increased risk-factor for other disorders.

I hope this helps you to assess and write more accurately your muses with C-PTSD or PTSD, and to consider these things more fully when having your muse experience a traumatic event in your plots.

-------

Please, remember when you are reading these accounts, and anywhere you might encounter PTSD sufferers; these are REAL PEOPLE. Treat them and their stories with respect. You’ll note that, unlike other posts on this blog, I didn’t advise you to approach the source. Many trauma sufferers won’t be comfortable sharing their experiences for the sake of your creative hobby. You may, at your respectful discretion, discuss this with close friends you know to be impacted by PTSD, just keep in mind that respect, discretion, and only bringing the topic up when they are comfortable with it, with specific questions, is necessary here. These are not fictional characters! Do not write someone’s real experiences into your character, thread, etc. verbatim, that’s...fucked up. Thanks in advance for being responsible, respectful adults, from a real life PTSD sufferer. -Vespertine

[star-anise]

I read your post about trauma and I'm trying to make sense of my parents treatment of me as well as my own diagnoses. Is anxiety itself trauma? Or a result of trauma? Its the stress response itself not calming down. I think I was and am emotionally neglected. My parents are not sympathetic. I'm adhd anxiety depression my whole life. That post about learning new social situation techniques really resonated. What are the treatments for neglect? Besides plain old cbt and mindfulness and anti anxiety meds

Trigger warning: Child abuse, child neglect, emotional neglect

Anxiety can happen because of a wide variety of reasons, from medical to situational to genetic. It could happen out of the blue to a totally healthy adult. Or it might be a symptom of trauma and a bad childhood. PTSD used to be classified as a kind of anxiety disorder, but we now understand it's a lot more complicated.

I'm very sorry your family aren't sympathetic and don't get what's up with you. I want to make it very clear that it is not your fault that they aren't sympathetic.

It's not your fault for not explaining things clearly enough. It's not your fault for not being a more lovable child. It's not your fault for being emotional or oversensitive. It's not your fault for not communicating your needs in a way they can hear. Their treatment of you is not your fault.

That's important not just because it feels good to be absolved of blame. It's not a meaningless platitude. It's a nicer coating on what can sometimes be a very bleak truth. That truth is:

There is nothing you can do to make your family be sympathetic to you.

I am so, so, so sorry. You can spend your entire life turning backflips, you can learn interpretive dance, you can become the world's leading expert in your field, you can get hit by a car and find out you have cancer, you can be as sympathetic and understanding about their reasons for neglecting you as they could possibly want, you could do everything in your power to be a good child, and none of that will ever give you the power to make your parents be sympathetic to you and what you've been through.

Sometimes parents do learn and grow and change and work to repair the damage done while their kids were children. But that's because of their own issues and experiences and reasons, not because of anything their children have done. Many parents keep being oblivious and neglectful even when their children have become everything a parent could ever hope for.

Actually, an amazing number of my adult neurodivergent friends have had the absolutely excruciating experience of hearing their parents say, in essence, "Hey adult child! The other day someone I respect way more than you told me about [your condition], and I was astonished! They told me that thing you've been telling me for years, and it blew my mind. I now realize that this is a real part of your life! Wow, it sure would have made a difference if I'd done that thing you've been begging me to do for years now, huh? Hey, have you heard about this handy behavioural technique you've been doing every goddamn day of your adult life? It sounds like it would really help!"

Like, even if your parents ever Get It about your specific disorders and conditions, they're extremely likely to salvage their self-esteem by refusing to ever seriously acknowledge how much it's hurt that they've failed you.

And what that means is: You have to plan the rest of your life as if they will never be sympathetic.

That might mean never giving them any say over your medical care or personal life choices. It might mean not living with them, not turning to them when you need a supportive community, or not letting them play a large role in the lives of any children you yourself may have. It might mean having to build your own support network that doesn't include your family at all, because you can't count on them to care when you're in distress. It can really suck to have to keep giving up the dream that one day you'll be able to count on your family to nurture you emotionally, but I promise that it sucks less than being continually disappointed with no backup plan.

Researching emotional neglect can be really difficult because a lot of the best research psychology as a field has achieved on the topic comes from really extreme forms of neglect and abuse. Exactly the kind of neglect and abuse that society waves in the face of the "merely" emotionally neglected: "So what if you didn't get hugged enough! You had enough to eat, a roof over your head, and they never hit you! They weren't even mean or malicious! Stop whining!"

And... look, if you've just broken your legs and you're in a wheelchair, who would you rather learn about using a wheelchair from: someone who can easily walk everywhere all the time, or a double amputee who's been using a wheelchair for years? The first person can probably get around more easily, but the second one can tell you a lot more about the specific challenges and skills that will be central to this phase of your life.

That's the frame I propose for research: Your life might not have been as bad as the case studies you read (though it's probably worse than your family is willing to admit, because invalidation is itself a form of emotional neglect, and this is so common there's even a poem about it) but the issues they encounter and the skills they require are probably useful to you, too.

With that in mind, check out books about early childhood neglect and trauma like The Boy Who Was Raised as a Dog by Bruce Perry, which talks about the parts of the brain and developmental stages that can be impaired by toxic stress in childhood, and the various forms of treatment that can address each one.

As far as CBT, remember to focus on behaviour, not just cognition. Reading about using touch to self-soothe is good, but less powerful than using that knowledge to find a blanket you love to touch, and wrapping yourself up in it whenever you're upset. Neglect means that you failed to get repeated, predictable experiences of being comforted. Healing therefore means getting that practice in as an adult: Creating thousands of daily, repetitive experiences of being cared about. Caring about yourself, and finding people who will care about you.

Maybe also give Dialectical Behaviour Therapy workbooks a try? They're designed for Borderline Personality Disorder, which can be seen as a specific subset of complex trauma. Like, if the effects of childhood abuse and neglect were a rainbow, BPD might be red-orange. But what makes DBT useful is that it has examined which skills and coping mechanisms vital to emotional health people with BPD most commonly weren't taught/never learned/need more practice on. The curriculum might not overlap completely with your own needs if you fall into the yellow, green, blue, or violet aspects of C-PTSD, but it's a good starting place when you're inventorying skills and habits you want to strengthen.

Good luck? I hope this helps!

[lululawrence]

Can u please be nicer on ao3? Maybe you should try answering people's comments

when i read the first line i was honestly flabbergasted and wracking my brain trying to figure out when in the world i wasn't nice on ao3 ever. because i honestly truly try to be nice to everyone always, even when i'm angry or frustrated or people are going after those i love and want to protect. if there was a time i WASN'T nice on ao3, i wondered if it was maybe because my comment had been misunderstood or someone saw me razzing an author i'm good friends with and they didn't get that we are close and i said what i did with so much love and appreciation, you know? like what??? did i do???

but then i read your second line. and please forgive me if i come off as rude in my response to this, because honestly i'm in a pretty bad spot mentally and emotionally in general right now, but PARTICULARLY today, and this ask triggered an anxiety response in me. so. i'm trying really hard to word this in a way to educate without being condescending or mean, but i might not succeed.

firstly, thank you for your comments i'm assuming you've left. i'm also assuming they were nice comments, in which case extra thanks. i'm sure i'll send you effusive responses on ao3 when the time comes.

secondly, please understand that sending an ask like this, on anonymous no less, is incredibly entitled. writing is not my profession, i receive no compensation for my works that i post for free online, and as a part of that it is not required of me to respond. i do my very best to reply to every comment i receive, but it is not always in a timely manner, because i have other priorities in my life. all of which leads us to my third point, which is:

writers do not owe you a reply to your comments. end of. there are no other qualifications or quantifying modifiers to be added to the statement. is it nice to be acknowledged and know your comment was seen? sure. but do they OWE you one? hell no.

in fact, i'd like to offer you a suggestion. a way of tweaking your thinking about the comments you leave on fics. instead of looking at comments you leave as being something that deserves a reply from the author, think of your comments as your way of paying the author for the gift of their time and talents that they have shared with you by posting their fic. that's how i think of the comments i leave for authors. i'm giving them my thanks for the words they've shared! i want to help THEM feel as amazing as they have made ME feel when i read their fic. in fact, my hope isn't necessarily a response from them, but instead my hope is THE GIFT OF THEM SHARING MORE FIC WITH ME. i'm a selfish bitch in that way and i always want all the fic to read. i never want that well to go dry. one way i can ensure that doesn't happen is by supporting authors and being kind to them and spreading all the love and excitement i can about their writing in the hopes that my words will inspire them to share more.

because whether they reply or not, i GUARANTEE they are seeing your comments. i PROMISE they are. and for all you know, your comment might be the one that keeps them writing even when their words aren't coming easily or when they are tempted to give up.

but, again, please remember that no matter what, these authors (including me) don't actually owe you anything.

the rest of this is going under a cut, because honestly my reply is already far too long and i have a LOT more to say now that you've gotten me started.

now, all of this in mind, i'll explain to you why i'm not great with keeping up with comments made on my fics the last couple of years. i don't owe you this explanation any more than i owe you a response to your comments, and i'm honestly not sure you deserve this explanation either, but i'll still offer it anyway. it'll help me feel better knowing i at least put this out there, whether you care or not, mainly because if i don't do that it will cause me greater anxiety having you possibly think i am not responding to people because i feel all high and mighty or that i think i'm better than the comments or whatever the fuck kind of motivation you're attributing to me to see my lack of a response as something "not nice" towards the commenters.

i'm not sure if you've noticed, but i put out a lot of fic. like a lot. a lot of words and shit. i love writing, it's often my therapy and a way for me to help keep my anxiety and depression and ptsd at bay.

now, more personal shit for you, i've got three kids ages 9 and under. the oldest has adhd which we have yet to find a med for that helps to the extent she needs without side effects that aren't healthy for her to continue with, she also has anxiety, AND she's extremely gifted and starting a new program at a new school, all in the midst of a pandemic. and all of those situations exacerbate her anxiety! huzzah! she's also dealing with the beginning of her tween growing up shit, which is great fun because it means where she used to be pretty damn understanding of her younger brother, she is finding it much more difficult to. because the second oldest? he's autistic with some pretty significant gross motor, speech, and socialization delays that have only been exacerbated because of the previously mentioned pandemic. PLUS he transitioned from his special needs preschool to a fully integrated elementary school for kindergarten last year and then had to deal with all the ups and downs of the switch from e-learning to hybrid to all in schooling when everything in him screams for a normal schedule he can rely on to keep his own anxieties and fears and struggles at their minimum. and that youngest child? he was born in january of last year. he STILL barely leaves the house and has only met other children in close range a couple of times because, once again, pandemic!

add onto all of this my own mental health issues, the fact that my husband ALSO battles major clinical depression, adhd, and anxiety, AND we live with my parents who have their own health issues, both mental and physical. i run the home for our house of seven. i keep this place functioning, fed, clothed, clean, and everywhere we need to be for all of our five million appointments every. fucking. day. there is a REASON i've been borderline burnt out for the last fucking year and a half.

now, for fun, i have fandom shit. i love it here, even if it is a dumpster fire on the best of days, and getting to be a part of the writing community is so very lovely. i adore it. honestly, it's because of those friendships i've built with other writers that i have been able to keep writing and have found just how helpful it can be for my mental health. but i'm REALLY. INCREDIBLY. BUSY. i hardly have time to get on tumblr for just a quick swipe through my dash most days. i put off asks so long i forget i have them. i don't have the mental and emotional capacity to talk to people on here or interact fully a lot of the time. but i do my best to do so and be kind while i'm at it even when i don't want to be.

then, on top of that? i also run fic fests like @wordplayfics and help friends run their own. because not only am i a writer, i'm a reader. i LOVE fic. fic has saved me soooooo many times over the past seven years that i've been here. i want to do what i can to support other writers the best way i can, which is to provide a space for them to create their works that welcomes and helps promote them, but also by doing my monthly fic lists and pocast highlighting what i've been able to read, reblogging their fic posts, and then commenting and kudosing their fics too.

sometimes i get really fucking down on myself because i'm so behind on replying to comments, but my brain is very much a "if you start this, you have to finish it" kind of a brain, and i feel even WORSE sometimes if i reply to comments on some fics and not all of them. but i do my best and reply when i can. i was actually really fucking proud of myself because i had a couple days to myself in june, and i spent hours replying to comments on 20 of my fics. when you have almost 150 fics (i think? i don't even know how many fics i've posted by now), that is only scratching the surface. but i tried and i was so so happy i did that many fics at once. it's exhausting, though, and takes a lot of spoons for me to reply to them in mass like that plus time consuming. so i tried to be happy with those 20 fics and the comments i responded to there and told myself that when i ha a moment to breathe, i'd go and work on replying to some more.

but see, that again causes anxiety and guilt. because i haven't replied to all of them. and that anxiety and guilt can cause me to put it off further OR to put off important things like feeding my children or getting sleep in order to finish it, so i have to make myself put things into perspective and ensure i'm doing the important things, like taking care of myself and my family, first.

and then, i have a moment where i CAN go ahead and reply to comments... but i also have MANY fics that are on deadline and i actually have a schedule. a SCHEDULE. for when i'm going to focus on which fics. i can spell it out for you if you really want. i made it back in APRIL to make sure i didn't sign up for too many fic fests because there are so many going on right now that i want to participate in, but i know i can't do all of them so i had to pick and choose. and when you are SO overscheduled and busy that back in APRIL you had to figure out what fics you would focus on at what time to ensure you got everything written when you wanted to through THE END OF THE YEAR, more choices have to be made.

for example. my writing time and time for myself came down to only one evening a week for ALL fandom things i'm doing and a part of right now once the kids were out of school for the summer. it quickly became apparent that for my own self care i needed more time, so i worked with my husband to find two other days i could carve out at least 30-60 minutes to myself to write every week. and i did. but if i'm already only getting that much time and have committed to those fics and fests and things that you're running etc, you have to choose am i going to use this time to try to squeeze in some comment replies? or am i going to write? and i choose to write. simple as that.

so yeah. see it as selfish if you want. see it as mean. you can honestly see it as whatever the fuck you want, but for me? i know that as soon as i possibly can and i can breathe freely for once and not feel like i am constantly drowning in my day to day life and am doing pretty well when it comes to my fic deadlines and getting started on those christmas cards i'm once again going to be making by hand for everyone on tumblr who chooses to sign up for one this year out of the KINDNESS of my heart and the love i really do feel for so many of you, then i promise i'll be on ao3 catching up and commenting. my friends laugh and make fun of me for it sometimes, because they will sometimes get 10-12 replies to their comments in a single day. they know that's how i work. i WILL reply to every single comment i get, no matter how old it is. but for the love of all that is holy, do NOT add to the anxiety and guilt i already feel over it. the only place that will get you is the ask/comment getting deleted if it's a good day, a fucking long rant like this one if it's not, and a block if it's a REALLY bad day.

if you're asking me to be nice on ao3, then i ask in return that you also be nice by not demanding things of people that they are not in any way obligated to give.

[cummingforkylo]

Hey man why are you being so mean to yourself saying things like "shut the fuck up" when you're talking about extremely traumatic things. Like bro you immediately apologize for your mom and excuse her over and over and over for treating you like absolute dog shit.

I'm sorry I literally don't give a fuck what her problem was at the time, she BRUTALLY, and I mean **BRUTALLY** abused you. None of that is okay. It's really interesting to me that you make sure the person reading that post knows your mom is like, totally okay now. Who, exactly, are you trying to convince? Us? Or yourself?

Additionally, have you ever gotten therapy? Like. You are blaming yourself, telling yourself how stupid you are, how you can't do xyz, telling yourself shut the fuck up... Bro you're literally suffering from trauma. I'd bet my life savings you have PTSD, if you haven't already been diagnosed. The fact that you couch this extremely horrific tale in "is it abuse?" makes me believe you've never talked about it been validated by this experience ever in your life, or if you have, it's not been often.

(I'd be willing to bet, also, that you're not actually bad at math. I bet, in fact, you're perfectly capable of it. But all of those circumstances surrounding math make it difficult for your brain to parse those signals. It has nothing to do with your capabilities.)

If you haven't talked to someone like a trauma therapist, I'd seriously consider it. A lot of people go through a lot of their lives thinking they have persistent depression and severe anxiety which like, sure, but the root is trauma. Might help to get that looked at.

I'm so sorry you went through those things as a child. It wasn't your fault, and you deserve love and compassion now, especially from yourself.

I’ve gone to therapy and talked about my mom some but i think a lot of it I didnt talk about specifically because i found myself like…constantly defending her to my therapist instead of just talking and it’s probably not because i want to excuse what she did. After years of blaming myself(even more than I already do?) i finally in the last like five years have been able to admit that it was her being abusive and not me being a difficult child. It took my brothers looking at me once and being like, “no, there was a period of our childhood that was straight up…bad.” for me to even recognize that all these times in my memory werent just like…me being a bratty kid and my mom dealing with me. And I think why whenever i talk about that stuff i have to like convince people she’s good now is because i’ve watched her change and i love her and have forgiven her for some of that stuff because i want to have a good relationship with her, and I do. But unfortunately in forgiving her i havent done nearly enough work to heal any of my shit about it.

I’m also constantly scared that even though what I talk about are literally just the memories I have that I have somehow exaggerated everything in my mind and i’m just bullshitting this. Like I KNOW these things happened, i have literal memories of it but even as I write them out I feel like I MUST be exaggerating because i’ve never talked specifics with my brothers and neither of them had it as bad as me.

I wouldnt be surprised if I have PTSD but i’ve never talked to a trauma therapist. My last therapist ghosted me so i’ve been very apprehensive to actually find someone again but you’re probably right. Talking to someone would probably help a lot of things.

It’s difficult, all of it, because I hate what happened to me and I’m upset about how challenging it has made some of this stuff in my life but I don’t hate her and I wouldnt want anyone to think less of her? Even if she deserves it in a lot of way. I dont know.

I reaally appreciate your message. It means a lot to reach out and offer real advice and such thoughtful words. I wish I was on here more so it didnt seem like I come to drop depression bombs and then just dip. It’s not what I intended this silly blog for.

💕

[giorno-plays-piano]

Rx Queen

Pairing: criminal!Bucky Barnes x Reader 

Warnings: obsession, stalking, non-con, breeding, minor depiction of violence.

Words: 2567. 

Summary: James Buchanan Barnes was the most difficult patient you had ever treated as a criminal psychiatrist. His release from prison doesn’t make things easier for you. 

_____________________________________ 

You turned off the phone and threw it on a chair, clenching your teeth. Whatever Dr. Strange wanted you to do, you wouldn’t stay another day in this goddamn place, waiting to be abducted or even murdered. It was too much. Today you found the new bottle of your favourite perfume on your nightstand. It wasn’t there before you went to bed last night. In fact, you could hardly remember the last time you bought yourself a perfume.

It all started two months ago when James Buchanan Barnes, the patient you had been working with during those seven long years, was finally released from State prison after serving 15 years of life sentence. The Soldier, as prisoners called him, once gone mad and murdered his commander. Bucky – that’s how he asked you to call him during your first seance – had PTSD, antisocial personality disorder, and severe depression. You could say he became better after all those years of treatment, including insane doses of antidepressants and mood stabilizers, but it was not enough to set him free. He was dangerous, psychotic even, yet devilishly clever: he knew how to portray a man who had reconsidered his life choices and deeply regretted taking someone’s life. 

You knew he had never truly cared. Patients like him did not have capacity for remorse.

You started treating him once you became a criminal psychiatrist; Bucky was among your very first patients. Now when you thought of it, you could hardly believe Dr. Strange just transferred a patient like him to you, a young girl with too little experience to handle an unpredictable psychopath hiding behind a façade of a victim. Of course, you made many mistakes, starting from telling Bucky about your own past and some mental issues. That time you believed you can gain trust of your patients by being more open about yourself. You were a complete idiot.

Now there was not much to do once his time in prison was up. You didn’t have true evidence to make him stay. A part of you wasn’t even sure you wanted it – when a riot had started in the prison three years ago, it was Bucky who shielded you with his own body from Brock Rumlow, a serial killer and your second most dangerous patient. Bucky was the only reason you were still alive.

But he was also the reason why you were leaving in haste, packing only necessities. 

It all started quite innocently with him sending you flowers and thanking for everything you had done for him. It didn’t alert you that he knew what your favourite flowers were. You thought it was just a coincidence since bouquets like these were sold in any flower shop in the city.

Then you stumbled upon him in a café where you often had your breakfast on weekends. It could alert you, but Bucky was sitting with a charming red-haired woman, her manicured hand resting on his thigh. She didn’t quite strike you as his sister, especially since you knew he had no relatives left after his violent father died in a car accident. Seeing such a beautiful woman with him just two weeks after Bucky was released from a prison was surprising, but you knew how seductively charming Barnes could be. Besides, he looked really good in his biker jacket, his tight black jeans showing his strong muscular legs.

In the end, you just talked to both of them a little and gave your advice on which dishes to choose. You walked away, praying you were wrong about Bucky and hoping he could settle peacefully like some of your former patients. Actually, even though many of them were imprisoned again, others were able to return to normal life. Some even had families now – from time to time you received thank-you notes with nice photos and many heartwarming words. It was probably one of the few things that made you keep your job.

It was over now. You were not going to stay in a place Bucky break into multiple times. Maybe you were not sure before, but the bottle of perfume was an obvious sign. It also meant that when a week ago you woke up and smell a man’s scent on your sheets you were not delirious. Bucky was there. He was laying beside you on your fucking bed.

How did it happen? Why didn’t you see his obsession growing with each day? You were his psychiatrist; you knew him better than anyone. How could he hide his infatuation with you for so long? Of course, you knew he had some feelings for you, but it was never that bad. You thought he would forget about you once he would be released. In the end, now you were not the only woman he saw around.

You kept stumbling upon his beefy figure more and more often. You realized Bucky was stalking you when after a month of his release you saw him watching your house from the forest. He was hiding behind the trees and bushes. It was a miracle you managed to see him at all – after 15 years he was still the Soldier, his skills remaining keen.

You tried talking to Dr. Strange. It wasn’t your first time being followed by your former patient, and police had always assisted you. But Barnes wasn’t like any of those stupid psychos who left tons of evidence behind them. Police had nothing to work with.

Well, you weren’t going to sit there and wait for Barnes to come and get you. You had no idea what was going on in his unstable mind, and you weren’t ready to take risks. You had already booked a flight to Austria tonight.

It was scary, thinking about wandering around a city you had never been, in a foreign country where you had neither relatives nor friends. But Barnes would have a hard time following you there, and that’s what mattered.

You threw a pack of salted cashew in the bag and returned to the bedroom to grab your phone from the chair. It wasn’t there. Although you dropped it just five minutes ago, your phone simply wasn’t there.

You were so fucked.

Next minute you were in the kitchen grabbing a knife, but a strong muscular arm knocked it out of your hand, and you felt Bucky’s musky scent. He stood behind your back, caging you with his bulky arms. You froze and held your breath. You knew you better obeyed the man instead of provoking him to become violent.

“And where were you going, honey?” His husky voice was enough to make you tremble. “It’s not nice to leave without saying goodbye, is it?”

“Please, Bucky.” You did your best to hide how frightened you were. “Stop.”

“No, honey.”

He leaned closer to you and buried his nose in your hair, inhaling its smell. His rough hands were already caressing your body through the clothes.

“You’re free to start a new life. You can find a good woman, have a family if you’d like.” Panic was rising in your chest. 

“That’s exactly what I’m doing.”

“No, Bucky, it’s not.” You said in a calm voice. “It will only get you back behind the bars. Don’t throw away your life, please.”

“What life?” He growled, turning you around harshly, and you almost fell on his chest, his arms holding you still. “I have no life. I should have never left my cell, you know this better than anyone else. I’m rotten. Damaged goods. I will never have the life I’ve always wanted. Do you know I have nightmares every fucking night again?”

“It’s because you don’t take your pills.” You carefully put your hands against Bucky’s chest. He tried manipulating you, you knew that. “When was the last time you had thioridazine?”

“Stay with me, and I’ll take whatever pills you want me to.” He grinned suddenly, cupping your face. 

Bucky’s strong athletic body emanated heat, and you were already sweating from both his closeness to you and an extreme agitation. Why did it take you so long to leave? You should have done it the first thing in the morning, just grab your documents and money and run to the car. Maybe then you had a chance. Unless Bucky had already been hiding inside your house…

“Why do you want to make a wrong choice again?” You felt his heart beating loudly with your palm against his chest. “You are given a chance to start over. If you want me to consult you still, I can figure something out. I can continue helping you, but you need to find your way. Don’t you think it’s good to meet new people, have friends, find a job, date a girl?”

“Who wants to deal with a psychopath like me?” He let out a chuckle, his expression darkening. “No one can handle me, doc. No one but you. Do you know I wanted to commit suicide before you showed up seven years ago? If not you, they’d already buried me.”

Before you opened your mouth to protest, he turned you around again and gently nudged you towards your bedroom. You broke out in cold sweat. If Bucky was able to outpower Rumlow, that beast of a man, he would have no problems forcing you to do whatever he pleased. It took three strong prison guards to bring someone like Bucky down. You were helpless.

“No one out there is good enough.” His breath was tickling your ear. “You’re the only one, can’t you see? Maybe I’m rotten to the core, but you still helped me. You made me better.”

You stopped in front of your bed, the white cotton sheets and blue blanket crumpled. You stormed off early in the morning once you saw a bottle of perfume on the nightstand and didn’t care to make your bed.

You needed to keep calm. As far as you could see, Bucky didn’t plan to murder you, not when you would accept him, that is. He obviously had a nice plan how to make you stay with him without police knowing, but as long as he kept you alive you still had a chance. You needed to play along.

“On the bed.” He let out a low growl, and you felt the bulge in his pants pressing against your ass.

Shivering, you took off your slippers and sat on the bed facing him. His erection was obvious; Bucky was breathing heavily, his pupils dilated. The next second he was pulling his black t-shirt over his head, and you saw his shredded body littered with scars. You saw one particularly long one on the side close to his waistline: this was the one Rumlow gave him when Bucky was protecting you during the riot. The man let out a quiet laugh when he saw your eyes focused on a nasty pink line.

“Why are you frightened, honey? I know you want a family too. You good-for-nothing ex wasn’t able to give it to you, but I can.” His hands landed on your bared shoulders, and you flinched a little. “Let’s get married, and I swear I’ll do whatever you tell me to.”

“Bucky, relationships don’t work like this.” You whispered, withholding a cry when his hand pushed you down on the bed. 

“Don’t they?” The man smiled and cocked his head to the side, removing his black leather belt. “You do something for me, I do something for you. That’s what I learnt in prison.”

You dragged yourself back as quickly as you could, but your back was pressed into the wall once Bucky put his knee on your bed. There was nowhere to run.

“Don’t be scared, honey.” His sweet voice broke the silence, and he crawled to you, slowly caging you with his bodyweight. “Let’s make a deal. You marry me, you bear my child, and I will return to prison. I don’t care if they’ll give me twice more pills or make me a lethal injection as far as you take care of my kid. You’ll love my kid, won’t you? You’ll take care of them. You’ll make them a better person than I am.”

The more he spoke, the more feverishly he touched you, his left hand pinning your palms above your head. He traced his arm along your breast, ripping your shirt with so much force that its green buttons ended on the floor. You realized your cheeks were wet with tears when Bucky kissed you on the forehead and wiped your face with his other hand.

He wanted to have kids with you. Why? Why you? Why did he consider you a perfect mother? Why did he consider returning to prison? Why was he ready to trade his goddamn life for a chance of having a child? Why couldn’t he have a child with someone else and just keep living?

Oh, of course he couldn’t. Bucky loathed himself. It wasn’t uncommon for the patients with Cluster B personality disorders, and it was probably true he wanted to end his life since you saw his self-destructing behavior. In the end, even his effort to save your life back than in the prison might be some kind of a suicide attempt. 

And the reason he wanted you and no one else… Well, you were the one who had been taking care of him all these years. The only one to navigate him through his nightmares when everyone else gave up on him. He saw good in you. He wanted it for himself. He wanted to make sure his child would never be treated the way he was.

You cried out when Bucky suddenly forced his cock into you. It felt like he was ripping you apart – he was huge. Your eyes flooded with tears again, and he cooed at you softly, pressing his chapped lips to your burning face. You couldn’t even remember when was the last time you had sex since you broke up with your ex a year ago. Thankfully, Bucky gave you time to adjust. He kept whispering filth into your ears and stroking your naked thighs. When did he take off your jeans?..

He kissed the top of your head, playing with your hair, and moved his hips slightly. You hissed in pain, but then realized it was a bit better – the pleasure started building up slowly, and you squeezed your eyes shut. No, no, you were not disgusting, your body tried to cope the best way it could, nothing else, it was a perfectly normal reaction, you knew that. Then you felt Bucky licking up the shell of your ear and whined desperately.

“It’ll be ok.” He whispered and kissed your temple. “I’ll take you to a nice place, and we’ll be there all alone. Once I make sure you’re pregnant I’ll return to prison, I give you my word.”

You bit down on your lip to muffle the noise coming out of your mouth.

“If they keep me alive, I might become your patient again.” He sounded almost ecstatic, rutting deep into you. “I’ll do whatever you say. I’ll stuff my mouth with your pills. Please, just stay with me.”

Staring at the white ceiling, you bit your tongue so hard your mouth filled with blood. You’d survive this. You’d get him behind the bars again. 

You wouldn’t stay.

[starr-fall-knight-rise]

HASO, “Your Choice.”

I am having a lot of fun with this arc.  Writing it has put me in a good mood, so I hope you like it as well :)

He walked the halls of the Oxystation with a  gun slung over his front hanging from a shortened tac sling around his neck and shoulder. He rested his arms and hands against the weapon as he walked down the hall. The gun was more of a redundancy than anything, if any unwanted alien was able to breach the hull of the station with the armored patrol outside than his gun was just a token sign of resistance. Of course, there was always the possibility that one of the patients would become violent and attack a staff member, but that possibility was quite low, even lower than it was in human mental health clinics. Only five percent of the mentally ill population was any sort of danger to anyone but themselves, and a large percentage of that would still, likely, never do anything bringing that number down somewhere closer to one percent.

With aliens it was even less likely, they weren’t naturally aggressive like humans, so when their mental health tanked, it tended to do it with extreme anxiety and something that looked sort of like depression, though the different species presented the illness differently. 

Working at the Oxyclinic had been good for him. It hadn’t been long until his enthusiasm for alien life had come trickling back in, and his fear had been discarded like a sock with a hole in it. He had even offered to help with the oxytheropy that the psychologists were offering. If anything was gong to get rid of his lingering fear of aliens, it was probably going to involve spooning one.

A weird way to deal with internalized fear but there you had it.

The oxystation wasn’t just for the oxytheropy. Human and alien psychologists were taking the time to learn about other species, and put together differing treatment plans for their patients. There was a high turnover rate, and not all the people who came to the clinic ended up staying, not all of them needed oxytheropy, and not all of them would do well having it considering that some of the fear the patients had often centered  their issues around humans. To his surprise, he found that a lot of it centered around the Drev war.

He looked down at his watch and took a sharp right turn down the nearest hallway entering the guard quarters just as his watch reached the hour.

“Morning LT.” Someone called and he waved a hand.

“Anything to report?”

“Nothing, all is quiet as usual.”

He ejected the magazine of his gun, and checked the chamber to make sure it wasn’t still loaded before racking it in the safebox as one of the other men stepped up to take his place on patrol.

The other group of men and women looked up at him from where they sat around a table playing cards, “Want us to deal you in.”

Adam shook his head walking over to his locker and pulling out a fresh pair of light blue scrubs, “No I promised the doc I would help today.”

The other humans shook their heads and rolled their eyes, “leave it up to you to want to spoon aliens.”

“Spooning aliens is a lucrative job. You should try it sometime, maybe you’d finally have enough money to buy the bag you’ve always wanted.”

“Bag?”

“YEah the nice one to cover your face.” he shut the locker and grinned at the car players to let them know it was all in good fun before turning towards the bathroom, where he changed and stepped back out. The scrubs were very breazy in comparison to his guard uniform and he shivered slightly returning to his locker.

It was important for people working on the ward to be completely unarmed, and for the humans to look as non threatening as possible. A strict list of instructions urged them not to smile with their teeth, and to keep their hands and feet covered at all times. He wasn’t entirely sure if the fuzzy socks and mittens were entirely necessary for that, but apparently some of the aliens interpreted human nails as claws, and some genius had thought that covering them up like this was very nonthreatening.

Looking in the mirror he had to admit it worked.

In his light blue scrubs and the fuzzy white mittens, he looked more like the easter bunny than he did a killer.

But then again, in real life he didn’t look much like a killer either.

He turned to walk out the door flipping off the people geering at him before remembering that he was wearing a mitten, which kind of negated the point of the gesture.

From there he wandered back up the hall and was buzzed into the ward after waving to the camera. He went through a few metal detectors which pinged on his leg, but they let him through anyway as he stepped into the hall and up to the staff room where the other workers and a few psychologists were having a break.

He took a seat in a chair and idly watched the TV.

HE looked around at the people who wore similar clothes as him and noted, not for the first time, that it took a special kind of person to do this job. All of these people were remarkably docile and relaxed people, and as far as he knew the vast majority of them had no shame. Despite humans being prone to cuddling pretty much anything and everything, its was pretty hard to spoon an alien and not feel awkward about it, but these people right here, they either enjoyed it or they were damn good at faking it.

Adam wasn’t good at faking anything so he was the former.

HE shifted slightly in his seat thinking about some of the aliens on the ward before his mind inevitably shifted to…. To him…. The alien that he dreaded seeing the most…. A big, tall hulking creature that wandered his nightmares and made his leg ache.

The Drev.

The Drev with eyes like the thing that had stolen his leg.

He put a hand to his head feeling a bit dizzy. He had only had one PTSD related panic attack since getting here, and that was only because he had been accidentally exposed to the Drev unexpectedly one day and without knowing that he was on the ward. It had been embarrassing for him as he tried not to let anyone know about his condition, but based on that incident he had been forced to come clean.

Ever since that incident  he had been quietly forcing himself to get closer and closer to the Drev despite the psychologists telling him that it was perfectly acceptable for him to step off the ward if the Drev was on.

But adam didn’t like that mentality much.

He had always felt, ever since returning from the Drev war, that people were too soft on him. They always sat there and told him that it was fine and whatever he needed to do was important, that he couldn’t blame himself if he couldn’t handle something. They were all very forgiving and very understanding, but that's not what he wanted. At some point, he felt that it was acceptable to get up in someone's face and tell them that: no you aren't doing good enough and that you behavior isn’t ok.

He wanted people to ask more of him, not less, and he wanted to get better not stay stagnant.

If other people wanted to spend their days medicated and avoiding the things that made them hurt than that was their decision, but he planned on healing all the way.

It was a thought that he espoused only for himself and did not apply it to others. 

Their mental health was their business.

Either way, he was going to make something out of this, and had slowly been approaching the Drev on the ward over time. He didn’t know if the Drev knew, and it didn’t matter to him so much, but he did have a bit of his own agenda.

The door creaked open, and one of the psychologists stuck her head into the room looking around for a quick moment before her eyes fell on Adam.

“Lieutenant, can I speak with you for a moment.”

For a second Adam’s heart stopped a little. Was he in trouble? Had he done something wrong?

He tried looking at her face to see any signs of displeasure, but  she was a difficult woman to read, so he stood slowly and followed her from the room and back into her office where he took a seat.

She sat across from him at her desk hands folded together. SHe looked him over with eyes that seemed to bore into his sole, “How are you doing, Adam.”

He shifted nervously in his seat, “Er… I thought I was a staff member not a patient.”

“Just humor me.”

“I’m good.”

“Any panic attacks recently.”

“No ma’am.”

“Are you being truthful.”

“You and I both know I’m shit at lying.”

She grunted and clasped her hands together looking at him with a stern expression.

HE shifted awkwardly in his seat, “What” “I have… a mission for you, though it is one I worry might jeopardize your mental health if it goes wrong, and the mental health of my patient as well. If it goes right however I think it would do BOTH of you a world of good. What I would be asking you to do is…. Of questionable ethicality.”

That made him nervous. “What do you mean by that?”

“I mean by asking you to jeopardize your mental health, I could be in serious violation of a couple of major statutes in my field, however assuming you do it willingly it might not be so bad.”

Despite his apprehension, his curiosity won out, “Go on?”

“Kanan.”

“Cannon, WHat?”

“No, Kanan, the name of the Drev on the ward.”

Adam shifted in his seat, stomach churning, “Oh…. go on.”

“Have you noticed he has a limp.”

“I…. suppose I haven't looked closely enough.”

“Well he does, and you want to guess where he got that limp?”

He had a pretty good guess, “The war?”

“Exactly.”

“And…..  I suppose you think….” He trailed off 

“He lost everything during the war Adam, his mate, his honor, his home. He is injured and exiled, and at this moment there are very few people in the galaxy that can even partially understand what he has gone through.” She leaned back in her chair looking at him, “I think, that having someone like you to speak with about what happened would be,.... Beneficial to both of you.” She paused, “DId you know that human and Drev psychology is surprisingly similar….”

He shook his head, “Well it is, and I think the two of you would recover faster if you had something to work on together.”

“With all due respect ma’am, my papers say I’m recovered.”

“The UNSC isn’t exactly known for their in depth medical reviews Lieutenant. I know they overlooked some things. Either way, it’s your choice.”

***

Adam stood in front of the door. His hands were sweating leaving the inside of the mitten’s sticky and unpleasant. He felt nauseous, but swallowed to hold it down eyes wide as he stared at the door. What was he doing? What was he doing?

He took  a deep breath.

Not being a coward, that’s what he was doing. He reached a hand up and knocked on the door before he could chicken out. There was silence and the knock seemed to echo down the hall for eternity. He waited, and waited, and waited, and assumed at some point maybe he had caught the large alien sleeping, but then the door opened.

His human knee went weak, and it was only the prosthetic that kept him standing as he stared up at the huge, hulking figure.

Adam was, tall 6,2 to be precise, but this hulking behemoth had to have been around or over nine feet tall, with blood red armor, and four bulging arms. It stared at him with bright golden eyes that brought echoes of his past welling up into his ears. He felt as if he was about to fall over, but then the creature turned and trundled back into the room, snapping Adam out of his trance.

He was breathing hard, and he thought about turning back, but instead, he stepped softly into the room leaving the door open just as crack as he moved inside.

The room around him was dark, and the floor was scattered with crumbled pieces of paper.

A box of markers lay on the ground to one side. He looked down to see he was stepping on a discarded piece of paper, and stepped back to look down, realizing the drawing there was of a tree, with striped bark and spiraling branches. It looked like something out of a Dr Seus book though he recognized it as an Anum/ Anin coiltree.

He crouched down to pick the paper up.

He looked up to see the Drev had returned to the edge of his cot and was sitting down, a shapeless form in the dark.

“You mind if I turn the light on?” Adam asked.

At first the Drev didn’t answer, but then he took a long breath through those strange holes in his neck and managed a deep, rumbling, “THe colors are too bright.”

Adam paused then, “Well neither of us can see very well in the dark and, he held up the page, drawing in the dark can’t be easy.”

There was a grunt.

“I’m going to turn the lights on.”

The Drev didn’t stop him, and as he did the room lit up showing even more pages scattered over the floor, all drawings of Anin some of them sloppy, some of them, quite artistic for a species he hadn’t thought practiced art.

He knelt down to examine a few of them, “Not bad.”

He picked up one of the pictures to examine it.

“This looks like the valley between the volcanic belts.”

The Drev turned to look at him, and when his eyes fell on Adam, the page slipped from his hand floating back to the floor.

The uncanny deepness of it’s golden eyes unnerved him.

“You were in the war?”

Adam’s hands were shaking, but he clasped them together to hide that fact.”

There was a long silence between them, and then he reached down pulling up the leg of his scrubs to reveal the titanium construction underneath, “I was.”

The Drev seemed surprised and looked up at him.

“You were one of them.” he said it very flatly, and Adam suddenly grew very worried that the Drev would kill him in revenge for being part of the operation  that decimated his people.

“One of your number killed my father.”

Fuck 

He went to back away but the Drev just looked down.

He sighed very deeply, “You were a strong and worthy opponent. We never had a chance.”

His voice was not bitter, or hate filled. There was some measure of regret behind his words but not enough to constitute anger. And when Adam looked at the creature, he could do nothing but feel sorry for him.

He quietly walked over trying to avoid the pages on the floor and then, unsure, sat next to the large figure.

Adam was not used to feeling small, but sitting next to the huge figure of the drev, he felt very tiny indeed.

The inside of the gloves were absolutely soaking, and with some measure of annoyance he tossed them off and onto the floor.

He wiped his palm on his shirt, reached out, fingers trembling and rested a hand on the Drev’s arm.

“You want to tell me about it? I.. My people didn’t exactly take the time to understand yours….. Now that I think about it it hardly seems fair.”

The Drev snorted ,”My mother believed that war was supposed to be fair, but my father understood that there was always inherent unfairness in battle…. The two of them didn’t get along towards the end. I think I agree with my father, to assume that your species would abide by our rules of combat was…. Ignorant of us.” The Drev turned to look at him, “Your species is much more efficient at war than mine is.”

His hands weren’t shaking anymore.

And he realized that, when he looked at this Drev, He didn’t see much of an enemy at all. 

But he did see someone broken by the war…. Just like him.

He looked down at his feet, and when he did his eyes came across another drawing. This one of a drev, It really only had an outline since it’s carapace seemed to be white, and the way it had been rendered with such delicate care, made it pretty clear to Adam who it might have been.

He picked it up quietly.

“You…. want to tell me about her?”

The Drev turned to look his eyes resting on the picture. Adam didn’t think up to this point he could read Drev facial expressions, but the welling of sadness in the creature’s face was so poignant that Adam felt his own chest tighten,

Damn the human’s heightened sense of empathy.

For a moment he thought the Drrev was going to tell him to get out, but, instead, he took the image and stared down at it, “Nechal…. Named after the moon….. She was the most glorious fighter I had ever seen in battle, strong, and graceful and powerful. She was not afraid to die, but she didn’t let that lower her guard. On the battlefield she was a goddess of war, and off…. She was…. Kind in ways that aren’t common among our people. I may have been attracted to her because of her fighting prowess, but I loved her because of the kindness she showed. Especially towards my sister… someone who needed kindness more than anyone I know.”

He took a very deep breath and when he spoke again his words were thick.

Could Drev cry? “In our people it is…. Custom not to mourn the dead who are lost in battle because their return to the spiritual realm will be glorious. It is a great honor to lose a mate in battle….” He looked down at his four hands, “But I do not feel honored…. I feel alone…. I miss her, ever day and every night I miss her, and I wish she hadn’t died…” He looked up and when he did Adam was struck by the expression of pain and grief on his face.

As if he was feeling the Drev’s pain in real time, he felt his chest clench again, and tears welled in his eyes. How could he not?

Anyone who didn’t feel the same must have had no feelings? 

“I was exiled because…. I could not follow her into the afterlife…. With my injury I should have given my body over to the fire, and maybe then I'd be with her, but I just…. I couldn’t do it. I miss her every day and yet I don’t have the strength to go to her…. I am a fraud among my people, a coward and a fraud and….

“Hey! Hold on.”

The Drev went quiet and turned to look at Adam who was now gripping his arm tight in one hand.

“You think she’d want to hear you say that.”

That seemed to take the Drev off guard and he stared at Adam with some measure of confusion.

“You said she was kind wasn’t she….. Well then I doubt she'd appreciate you talking about yourself like that.”

He was quiet for some time.

“Look I…. I lost my leg during the war to…. To one of your soldiers and. It’s messed me up for a real long time. Hell you scare the daylights out of me, but I’m moving forward.”

THe Drev frowned at him, “Scared of… us… you won?”

Adam laughed, “We didn’t win anything. Nobody won, a lot of people died and a lot of people were crippled, and for what? I think about that a lot, for honor? Honor. Well maybe I don’t understand what honor means because to me, it would be something worth dying over.”

The Drev contemplated him for a long time.

“We may have won but we did it with scared soldiers like me, and broken soldiers like me. I’m probably never going to recover from the war. That’s the difference between you and me, you guys can make it through war in one piece but me…. Humans… we may be good at war but it destroys us.”

He sighed, “I guess what I am trying to say is, instead of feeling sorry for what you can’t change, why not move forward. Do something you think is worth it, do something Ne-” he stumbled over the Drev word, “Nechal would think was worth it.”

He didn’t know what he was saying, he didn’t know if what he was saying even made sense. Nerves had always made him ramble. He knew he was talking too much but he didn’t know what else to do.

The Drev looked down, and Adam. as was his training made a bit of a decision.

He shut up.

Which was a feat in itself.

Reached over and hugged the larger alien. His arms didn’t make it anywhere close to wrapping around him, but he hoped that maybe it would help?

He didn’t know.

He was kind of just a raging idiot most of the time, so his plans were usually half assed at best.

The Drev stiffened and then relaxed. Adam’s head was resting against the creature’s huge planted shoulder. It felt like hugging corded steel cables.

He would have to say that being hugged by something with four arms was a bit of an experience. Most aliens didn’t usually hug back, they were more the recipient of hugs, but it seemed that the Drev wasn’t unfamiliar with the concept, either that or he learned fast, and damn Adam felt even smaller encircled in the arms of the huge alien.

Kanan could have crushed him if he wanted, but let him go not long after to Adam’s surprise and relief.

The Drev looked at him.

He looked back

“You are strange creatures.”

He gave a weak smile, forgetting the rule about showing teeth, “So they say.”

It was a bit of a gamble but things had worked out better than the psychologist could have hoped. Drev are more receptive to self reflection than humans are. Humans like to internalize things, and their brains become obsessive. Drev have more control over their minds in many cases than humans do, so Adam’s encouragement for Kanan to do something his dead mate would think worthwhile showed results almost immediately.

To Adam’s grudging pleasure, the Drev seemed to be recovering faster than he was.

And was well on his way to recovering completely when the communication came for Adam one night while he sat lying  on his bed next to Waffles, thinking about his future.

The pink roused him from near sleep and he sat up on one elbow to look at the time.

i t was only nine earth time, so he rolled onto his side and sat up, patching the communication through.

A light blue screen of holographic image filled his vision, and on the other side he could see Colonel Kelly sitting in front of him….. At least Colonel until he realized the star on her uniform.

His eyes widened slightly. He went to speak but she shook her head at him.

“I trust you are doing well Lieutenant.”

“Yes ma’am. I have no complaints.”

She nodded, “Good, good, I am sorry to intrude, but I am afraid this rest period is over for you. You are requested to return to earth on the next outgoing transport.”

He frowned and rubbed the back of his head, “Uh of course ma’am but…. Why?”

She stared at him long and hard, ‘I have a very important decision for you to make. It is one that is not going to be popular or easy, but I urge you to accept my request.”

He frowned and shook his head, “You aren't making sense, What is this all about?”

“Tensions are rising between our delegates and the GA, if we don’t do something soon, I am worried that this will devolve into infighting and eventually war. I have to work fast in order to stop this outcome, and you are the lynchpin that holds my plan together.”

“Me.” He squeaked.

“Yes, you, now Adam, be honest with me. What is your opinion on the GA and our involvement with them?”

He rubbed the back of his neck though his thoughts were adamant, “Cooperation wherever and however possible. We need them, and I believe they could due with being our allies, ma’am.”

“And if I gave you a job to try and reach that goal, would you take it?”

“I would do whatever I had to do ma’am.”

He was being truthful. 

She nodded her head.

“Good then, it’s your choice at the end of the day, but if we act now, we can change everything.”