#listen to it so much when I'm having bad mental illness symptoms

[healingmoth]

Mental Illness Check!

Do you:

Look down at your hands like they were mirrors?

[godspeedviper]

How the therapists react to your "worst" symptoms - Headcanons

SFW || TW: mentions of self harm, mention of suicidal ideation, therapy sessions, very brief mention of (unlabeled) disordered eating, mention of psychosis & violent thoughts.

A/N: this was written by someone who has been in therapy for many years and has personal experience with these types of symptoms. this is not meant to romanticize any mental illness or symptoms of it. this is purely self indulgent fluff. just because your experience might be different doesn't make these experiences any less valid. if you don't like this simply do not read it, block if you must, and move on.

Jonathan Crane (Scarecrow)

He is the most objective and detached of the lot. Therefore he never seems to have much of a reaction no matter what you do or say to him. He really has seen it all before. This does help you feel less anxious as time goes on, knowing he won't ever judge you or ascribe any kind of morality to your actions.

"If it causes you distress or harm, then we should work towards eliminating it altogether." is his typical response to your concerns about your own coping mechanisms. "You do not owe anyone kindness, just remember to restrain yourself from causing harm whenever possible."

He is the only one to have no discernible reaction to your self harm scars/burns. One day, he noticed an especially fresh one and offered to disinfect and bandage the wound for you. He always gives you space to bring things up at your own pace, when you feel comfortable doing so.

"Not all of us have the capacity to be so gentle, and that's alright." he says about your outbursts. "I'm not known for being the warmest, but that doesn't make me any less skilled at my work, or any less worthy of respect. If you do not hold my lack of socially acceptable agreeableness against me, then you should not hold it against yourself."

Bonus: when you finally have the courage to mention the substance usage he remains as cool and detached as ever. "I am glad you were honest with me so we can monitor for any interactions with your medications. Know that I won't judge you for moderate usage, after all, do we not professionally refer to medications as drugs? It isn't ideal, but it is a way of self medicating. All I ask is that you be fully honest with me about your usage so I can better take care of you."

Hannibal Lecter (NBC)

He is surprisingly gentle and very soft spoken, although you were intimidated by him at first and the opulence of his office. He usually greets you with a warm smile and asks how your week went and if you've eaten yet today. He teaches you to enjoy food again, describing it as an art, and asking you to be mindful and present when enjoying a meal. Listen to your body, what it tells you about the ingredients, the quality of the meal, and the hands that made it.

He always asks you what you want to do, making sure to actively include you in your own treatment plan. He thoroughly explains treatment options, medications and their possible side effects, and has you weigh your options. This allows you to really analyze your own reactions and act accordingly when you are alone.

"Now, you do understand I am required to recommend inpatient treatment if you are feeling actively suicidal." he says, when you come in on an extra bad day. "However, I want to trust you and give you the option of what to do from here. If you think it will do you more harm than good, let me know, but you have to be honest."

One day you get the courage to ask why there is a first aid kit on his desk, though you already assume why. He simply looks at you and asks "Do you need it today?" before gently tending to your recent self harm wounds. He never calls you out for it, but he does periodically ask you upfront if you've been engaging in self injurious behaviors. If you respond yes, he asks to tend to your wounds, and if you say no, he celebrates with you. "Good. I'm proud of you for holding yourself back."

Bonus: when you land in the hospital, Hannibal makes sure to go visit you while your therapy slot is on hold. He never calls attention to the circumstances that lead you here, and focuses solely on your recovery and how he can't wait to have you back in the office soon.

Harleen Quinzel (Harley Quinn)

It doesn't take long for her to shed her professional demeanor. She makes you feel like you're talking to a close friend, yet manages to never fully lose the "doctor" in her. She offers you fidget toys as a way to ease the tension of talking about such vulnerable and heavy subjects.

She makes everything into a little game or a challenge to motivate you changing habits. Every time you manage to avoid indulging in negative coping mechanisms, she rewards you with a little heart shaped chocolate at the end of the session. On bad days, she simply encourages you to try again and she gifts you a cute bandaid at the end of the session to signify your healing from a bad day (sometimes, the bandaids come in handy for self harm wounds).

"Being childish can be a good thing!" she tells you. "Its important to have a little whimsy in your life. Just because you grew up doesn't mean you have to... ya know, grow up." She encourages you to try and add a little joy to your daily life. You start taking fuzzy tipped pens to work and keeping plushies at home for comfort. Surprisingly, it does help.

Every now and again she asks for your advice or assistance on minor things, such as which dress she should wear for a date, or what show to watch next. Sure, you are technically paying for her time, but this fact alone doesn't entirely relieve you of the feeling that you are burdensome. Whenever that feeling creeps back up, she reminds you of all the times you helped her make decisions until you admit your usefulness with a smile.

Bonus: "Hearing voices or other noises doesn't make you evil." is her reply when she learns of your psychotic symptoms. "Everyone is susceptible to experiencing psychosis. Hell, I've felt it when I was losing sleep in med school. It doesn't make you a bad person."

Hannibal Lecter (Silence of the Lambs)

You are intimidated by him at first, but his hypnotic voice grows on you. He always sounds so self assured, but never assertive. He has an almost paternal quality to him, making you feel simultaneously comfortable and protected.

He always listens to you intently, you never feel ignored by him. Hannibal is the only one that makes you feel seen and you tell him as much. "Oh everyone sees you my dear, you can be assured of that, but not everyone has the courage to acknowledge you. Keep this in mind for the next time you should feel the urge to do something drastic for attention."

You were worried you would eventually do something to turn him away, as you had to so many therapists before him. However, he simply scoffs at the idea that you could ever do anything that could possibly frighten him or upset him.

When you finally have the courage to tell him about the violent intrusive thoughts he remains as calm as ever. "In the past, we humans had to hunt to survive. We also had to protect ourselves and our kin. As time goes on, that propensity for violence remains, even if our survival is no longer dependent on it."

Bonus: You come clean to him about getting into a fight with someone, being entirely overtaken by rage and paranoia. You call yourself a monster and cry. "I have worked with serial killers, family annihilators, rapists the worst that the world has to offer. I know monsters. You are not one. You wanna know why?" You nod yes. "Because my dear, you have remorse and regret for your actions, they do not. Besides, you would not be sitting here with me if you did not want the anger to control you."

AO3 || Guidelines || Request || Ko-Fi

[kineticallyanywhere]

Matt "I can and will remind everyone that Link is REALLY wierd about Normal with like no real explination at this point" Arnold out here like "let me see if I can underminine my entire point in this character arc defining interaction" and I unironically love him for it Link is SUCH a messy b word rn

(this turned into a long response, let's talk Fascinating Character Flaws!)

I dont think it's so much that he's weird about Normal, if I'm understanding what you mean by 'weird', especially in this episode. I feel like it circles back to what I keep thinking about, which is his newest teen fact. the one where he-- does this count as poisoning? he made other children ill in a fit of jealousy for anyone having any time with his dads.

listen, I've had many homeschooled friends. At one point in college I was the "actually went to public school" member of the friend group. People can go in and out of homeschooling and be... not whatever the heck Link has going on. I was excited for him when that fact started, like, "oh he was part of a cohort!" until uuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuh!

(the following are thoughts that I'm still developing in my head as I type and probably after I post)

whether it's due to the overprotective parenting or just Link's nature or a Symptom of a Condition (op has their own Condition but is not a psychologist) Link's got an issue with like. not getting what he wants? not usually in super obvious ways, it's not spelled out, he doesn't throw tantrums or anything. unless you count the thing at Normal about Normal not wanting to do "cool plans." and most of the time he doesn't want anything complicated, his wants have been pretty straight forward and in line with what anyone would want in these circumstances. he wants people to not die is the big major one, he wants to not feel betrayed again, he wants his friends to stop fighting, he wants to get this over with NOW. and he's been going through so much of not getting what he wants (COMPLETELY REASONABLE THINGS TO WANT, IN THIS CASE. TRAUMATIC THINGS TO NOT GET) that he seems to not know what he wants at all anymore.

like, his understanding of the world has been rocked so bad that he's pretty sure all those things I just listed just aren't things he can have. in the past whenever he needled his parents or acted out or did certain things he'd get what he wanted. not to say that he's spoiled but uh... okay yeah I am saying that a bit. but mostly in the ways that it keeps him from developing the coping mechanisms for when you ask something from life and it punches you in the teeth instead.

So in a world where he doesn't know how to get what he wants and maybe he isn't sure what he even can want, he's kinda just shutting down internally. In the mean time, he may as well make sure his friends get what they want, and then maybe at some point he'll want something again. so, in a way, what he wants is to feel and want something, so that "wants what he wants" part of him snapped out again at Normal with "well at least you're feeling something." in other words, "you have the thing that I want right now, and I'm gonna sound pretty bitter about not having it myself" which is an effed up thing to say when that thing he's having is a mental breakdown.

Link. Buddy. Bud. Kiddo. Pal. you need Help.

tl;dr and conclusion: imo for their mental health the party should split into Link & Taylor and Scary & Normal again for an episode or two. Norm and Scary for hopefully obvious reasons; and Link and Taylor because while Taylor is unquestionably a rich kid spoiled for material goods who is very good at wanting things, he is also a kid who's mom knows how to say "No. Absolutely Not. Give me the knife right now I don't care what seppuku is" and who's dad left an emotional void for over a decade that he is clearly adept in coping with and he could give Link some pointers.

also because it would be a cool callback and parallel to early episodes to do those pairs again. see how they've changed and stuff

[rey-jake-therapist]

Nina from Black Swan vs Will from Hannibal

Another parallel no one asked for: Black Swan and Hannibal, or more precisely, Nina and Will.

I rewatched Black Swan yesterday. And wow, it's not because I'm currently in my Fannibal era but the parallels between Nina's story and Will's just jumped straight at my face. They're so (tragically similar).

They both suffer from an illness but don't know it. For Nina, it's likely to be a mental illness that remained undiagnosed and gives her hallucinations when she's under great stress. Also she's prone to self harming, as we see several times during the movie. For Will, it's encephalitis, which under Hannibal's 'treatment' gives him similar symptoms.

They both hate themselves and express it by engaging in a process of self destruction. They're both very good at their job. To do it right, they're forced to dig deep inside themselves and confront themselves to things which existence they denied all their life. Their job slowly but surely destroys them, they know it but they refuse to stop because they believe it's the only thing that gives them a value. What drives Nina is to be 'perfect', an unreachable goal in essence; what drives Will is to save lives thanks to a gift he has, but he can't save everybody. Worse, he can't seem to be able to save himself, his 'gift' turning out to be more of a curse for him.

They both have an authoritarian figure in their life who smothers them and project their past failures on them (the creepy mother who forces her into staying a child while guilting her for being born for Nina, Jack Crawford who watches him destroy himself, and uses him in a goose chase against the Ripper for Will). Both Nina's mother and Jack Crawford treat Nina/Will as, in Hannibal's words, "their finest china, used only for special guests". There's something deeply disturbing in the way Nina's mother keeps disrespecting Nina's boundaries while she's a woman in their 20s, that's not existent with Jack Crawford (though it could be argued that when he insists that Will keeps using his empathy disorder to solve crimes even after Will clearly tells him it harms him, he also disrespects Will's intimacy in a way), but it's about the influence they have on Nina/Will. They also have in commun the fact that they know something's wrong with the person they're supposed to protect, but choose to do nothing about it because it doesn't serve their personal agenda. Nina's mother for example, knows it's not the first time that Nina engages in self harm and yet, the only thing she does is yelling at her and shaming her. Jack Crawford watches Will's mental and physical health get worse and worse, but chooses to ignore the warning signs and to pretend he believes Will when he claims he's 'fine'. When Will expresses his discomfort he's deaf to his distress and proposes him with disdain to quit, knowing that's not what Will wants.

They both have a smoking hot DILF man in their life who pushes them to accept the darkness in them. Both male figures are abusive in a different way (Thomas has no respect for Nina's boundaries, forces her to kiss him and touches her in a very inappropriate way, then humiliates her based on the idea that she's not "fuckable" enough to be the Black Swan; Hannibal manipulates Will through brutal therapy methods), but their goals are similar. Thomas feels that Nina represses a lot of things and wants her to listen to her pulsions so she can be both the White and the Black swan Queen. Hannibal feels that Will secretly enjoys killing and wants him to admit it so he can embrace his true self. Both men are... Bad men lol and they end up doing more harm than good. One could argue that without them neither Nina or Will wouldn't have learnt so much about themselves, but the price to pay came very high: Nina stabs herself during an hallucination and Will jumps off a bridge with Hannibal, to free themselves.

Both Nina and Will suffer from a similar type of hallucinations: they are face to face with a darker version of them, who sometimes takes someone else's face: the dancer Lily for Nina, Gareth Jacob Hobbs for Will. In both cases they're characters for whom they have ambivalent feelings: Nina is extremely attracted to Lily but in her paranoia believes she conspires to steal the role from her, while Will sees Gareth Jacob Hobbs as an horrible murderer but can't help but feel he's becoming one with him. They both hallucinate that a monster lives inside of them and tries to dominate them at some point.

Both Nina and Will discover they're attracted to a person of the same sex while also considering this person as an enemy. Actually in Nina's case I think it's more a case of internalized homophobia, nourished by her abusive mother who always kept her away from the external world and from exploring her sexuality, and probably fed her with fairy tales about a fair noble prince who will take her on his white horse one day. Surely her mother never discussed sexuality matters with her, considering that even though Nina's in her 20s she keeps treating her like a literal child. Where Will considers himself straight, Nina probably never even allowed herself to question her sexuality. When Thomas very rudely asks her if she's a virgin she blatantly lies because she realizes that telling the truth will make her look weird; and I got the feeling in this scene that she was disappointed not to have sex with him that night, not because she had a crush on him, but because she wanted to seem "normal" to him, and for the world in general. But it's very clear she's not attracted to him, or to any other men. The only person she wants is Lily, a woman. And since the idea of being sexually attracted to Lily terrifies her, and also because Lily isn't interested in her that way, it makes very much sense that in her craziness Lily becomes her enemy.

For Will, it's a bit different: the problem with Hannibal isn't so much that he's a man (as I say I think Will considers himself straight by default but I don't think it would stop him from admitting his feelings for Hannibal were the circumstances different), but that he's a serial killer and a cannibal. Will's goal is to save people from killers like Hannibal. That's what drives him and I don't think that it will ever change. So Hannibal is Will's natural enemy, in a way. That's the tragedy of this romance: they can't be without the other but they also can't be together BECAUSE what drives them is completely, utterly different, opposite even. At least that's the significance of the double suicide in The Wrath of the Lambs. They survived and Will has apparently decided to renounce his main goal to co murder and eat Bedelia du Maurier in a season we'll probably never see, but I can't see how doing that could turn good for him. Will will never be like Hannibal imho, no matter how hard he tries :(

And yet I can find another similarity: Lily is everything that Nina wishes she is: free, attractive, with no self put boundaries. I think Will also envies Hannibal to be the way he is, and that a part of him wishes he could become like him. He wants Hannibal to change him, but it goes against his main goal (saving people), hence his internal struggles.

Both Nina and Will choose suicide as their way out, completing their tragic arc. For Nina of course it's a poetic mirror of the Swan Queen's fate; the queen, reduced to stay a swan forever because her lover was seduced by the Black Swan, throws herself off a cliff (!) and finds freedom from her curse in death. Nina, however , kills herself believing she's killing her enemy, the message being of course that the only enemy she's got is herself (doesn't Hannibal tell Will something like that at some point? That he's his worst enemy?). Will kills both his internal enemy, the part of him he can't accept (the Will who enjoys killing and wants to kill again to feel powerful), and Hannibal, the man who's by definition his enemy, but also the man he can't live without because he's the only one who accepts the darkness he has in him.

Finally, both Nina and Will believe they reach their goal when they 'die': Nina's talent for dancing reached perfection in her final performance; Will jumps taking Hannibal with him thinking he's saving the world from Hannibal. Both endings are tragic, because they lie on the same sad conclusion: they couldn't accept themselves enough to live with themselves, so they embarked on a journey of self destruction that lead them to their death, wether it's a physical or metaphysical death we're talking about. Nina may be still alive at the end of Black Swan, and we know Will still is. But what part of them survived the fall?

[polyamorouspunk]

Hey there. Just wanted to let you know you run one of my favorite blogs. While we're not friends and I certainly can't claim to know you, your posts are always a splash of brightness on my dash. I love all the ask games things you do specially.

I know you're not doing well right now and I know there isn't much I can do to help you with that, but I figured it would be nice to let you know you're appreciated even if I'm just a random stranger half a globe away.

Even if you can't bring yourself to eat something at this time, please consider drinking some water? You deserve to feel better, you deserve care and comfort and filling yummy food and good things coming your way.

I hope tomorrow treats you kindly.

Thank you.

I do feel bad that this year I’ve just been soooo clearly mentally ill, like more than I have been in recent years.

Today I had some Oreo milkshake cookie from Crumbl and my mom bought us a mouse cake slice each!

Been eating a lot of yummy foods lately, especially since I have IBS I try and just enjoy what I can eat when I can eat it.

I’ve def always had weight issues and weight-image issues but even though doctors always want you to “have a better diet to manage symptoms” it’s like. 1. I’m not going to eat only rice and drink only Gatorade to prevent myself from having symptoms 2. If literally anything can make me sick at any time for any reason I might as well eat whatever I want when I’m NOT actively sick, and then when I do get sick is when I start doing some damage control and restricting what I eat to make myself less sick.

And honestly a few of my friends are similar body types to me and I think they’re really hot and it’s made me feel a bit better about myself!

I’m not doing well right now and I’m not really sure how any of it is going to go. I always feel like I’m just like “well I’m in the middle of it and it needs to be resolved but I can’t resolve it right now so I’m just stuck here” but I’ve been able to do some self care like reading, I just finished a book in like? 3 days? Which is pretty good for me nowadays.

I’m managing my anxiety right now by getting some food I just ate, and then I’m going to listen to a podcast while I fall asleep to focus on that instead of my own wandering mind. I have therapy tomorrow morning and I’m not really looking forward to it to be honest but it is what it is.

Every message I get helps. Every person who reaches out helps. I’m so lucky to have the platform I do because if I didn’t I don’t know if I would have been able to make it this far without even more cuts and bruises, both literally and mentally.

[duchessofostergotlands]

Do you think you could be autistic? No hate just wondered as I am too and I relate to a lot of what you say

Oh my anonymous friend, you don't know the can of worms you have opened haha. I am going to ramble here so just be prepared for that.

When I was little my mum did actually think I might be autistic. Predominantly because I played in an unusual way. I would line my toys up on the window sill and my grandmother's display cabinet thing. I would get furious at people if they moved my toys because they all had their own spot. And the only time I touched the toys was to move them from the cabinet (their home) to the window (the school). The rest of the time I would just stand still, stare at the toys, and wiggle my fingers. They called it "zizzing" - now it's called stimming, I guess - and they knew that was a sign of autism so my mum and my grandmother did wonder about it. But I had two things going against me: I was a girl and I was born in the early 90s. This was during the peak of the idea autism was the "extreme male brain." It was seen as being predominantly a male diagnosis. You probably know that. And there wasn't much understanding so our reference point would be people like our family friend who always looked at the ground, was obsessed with trains, had limited speech and would scream if anyone tried to touch him. Whereas while my family were still thinking about the autism thing I started school and I was academically strong, I had a small group of close friends and at the time - because of the gender disparity - girls only really got diagnosed with autism if they had some kind of very obvious speech delay, they weren't doing well at school, they had no social connections with their peers at all etc. So basically everyone just forgot about it. I got called a drama queen a lot, that was it.

Fast forward to my teens and my mental health was really bad. It got worse at university because I didn't have the routine and structure of school, I didn't have my mum cooking and buying food etc. I was diagnosed initially with depression and anxiety. After a while it was clear that wasn't right so after much fighting I got a diagnosis for Borderline Personality Disorder. Now you may know this but there is an overlap in BPD and autism symptoms and women are often misdiagnosed with BPD later in life because as children their autism wasn't picked up (because diagnostic criteria is still geared towards how it presents in boys and psychologists and psychiatrists don't always delve into motivations and thought processes). I found that out in my mid 20s but thought "nah I probably don't have it, I don't have special interests and I don't struggle with x, y and z." However, my mum became really interested in BPD after I was diagnosed and did loads of research, listened to podcasts on it. And she told she was listening to one podcast where someone was diagnosed with BPD but then they discovered it was actually autism. My mum said to me that the way she described herself in childhood was exactly how I behaved, as if I'd been the one speaking. And so that got me thinking and that's where I have been stuck over the last few years. I debate with myself constantly what's going on in my brain and I truly don't know. I regularly have epiphanies where I think "oh that thing I've done all my life is incredibly autistic." But then I think maybe it's actually BPD. And I just go round and round.

I identify as neurodivergent, regardless of what diagnosis I have. Some neurodivergence paradigms do recognise severe mental illnesses like BPD anyway, but I've realised that if you put aside the BPD I still have chronic problems with ordinary tasks and situations. And I used to think it was just because I was young but I'm 31, almost 32, and it isn't normal to take 3 months to make one phone call because you just can't make yourself do it! Most people don't find it this hard to take basic care of themselves.

[fairydares]

Reminiscing on the Hard Road (A Gruvia Fic)

Rating: M

Summary: While on his way to a mission, Gray reflects on the hardships, tears, battles, and triumphs which led to him and Juvia finding their happiness together. (Or: the story of how they finally, officially got together told through memories).

AO3 Link ; FFNet Link

Words: ~8,000

Warnings: Please read with caution as this contains adult themes & situations (though nothing explicit). Also swearing and allusions to mental illness, dissociation and depression symptoms especially. Man this feels like the end of a drug commercial. Enjoy!

AN: I realized how long it'd been since I updated Chasing Tails and was feeling really bad about it. I'm so sorry, guys! I've just been really busy! I don't have time to get Chapter 5 up tonight, but I do have the time to share this Gruvia piece I wrote a while ago as a karmic sort of apology.

With that in mind, this is a bit of a rough, long one-shot. It comes from a chapter in a larger, mostly Nalu-focused fic which I may or may not ever actually finish writing. Sooo it's not even really a one-shot so much as it's, like, a segment of a chapter from one. I also barely had time to clean it up ever so slightly.

However, I thought Gruvia fans would appreciate anyway. Maybe one day, I'll write the whole thing because I honestly think it could be a story, or maybe a series of drabbles? This is all you kids get for now, though, lol. no fucks given (just kidding this will keep me up nights.)

o(O)o

Ignoring Natsu's whining about still being motion sick from beside him, Gray buried his hands in his pockets and let his eyes engage in their favorite past-time: roaming the curves of the blue-haired woman walking in front of him.

Him and Juvia had officially been together for over half a year, but his eyes still snagged on the same places they always had. The sway of her blue hair, now long enough to partly obscure the pinch of her waist and flare of her hips with each swish. The pretty, cute flush that lived on her cheeks as she listened attentively to Erza, who was chattering about a famous desert shop in the area. The way shadow and light shifted over the curve of her rear. And—forever his most favorite—the exposed skin of her legs. Long, toned, moon white...and fucking perfect.

Gray felt his cheeks heat, but couldn't find it in himself to drag his eyes away. The solidness and length of their relationship did absolutely nothing to diminish the novelty of her beauty, like he might once have feared it would. Instead, it hypnotized him more surely than ever. Noticing all the men drooling over her figure as they walked past, Gray was aware of the sting of possessiveness and annoyance which rose in his chest, but was also easily able to ignore it.

He was as comfortable as any guy with a stunning girlfriend could be in his own jealousy, these days. More shockingly, so was Juvia, a fact that was plain from the way she shot only perfunctory glares at the women eyeing him and whispering to each other as they passed.

As he stared at her back, his lips quirked ever so slightly. It had taken time, tears, and work—more work than he could ever have anticipated—to get to this point in their relationship. But work had never been more worth it.

His mind wandered to reminiscence. To where it had all started, when they had started, after the 100-Year Quest had ended and he'd finally—with Lucy, Levy, and Erza's help—managed to ask Juvia to be his girlfriend.

"Not just 'yours'," Levy had insisted, explaining that phrasing would confuse her. "Your girlfriend."

He'd actually fought them on it. Not really because he had a problem with commitment anymore (okay, it was a little embarrassing, but not too much) but because the words "girlfriend" and "boyfriend" felt ridiculous, considering everything they'd been through. How deeply he cared about her. For crying out loud, they'd tried to kill themselves for each other. He'd kill for her, die for her, and—most importantly—he would live for her. Beyond making his ears feel like they were going to melt off, the word "girlfriend" felt trite.

But when Lucy and Levy demanded to know if that meant he was going to propose, he'd balked. Actually, having the m-word shoved right up against his nose kind of made his soul flee his body. As ready as he was for a romantic relationship, he wanted to go through the actual experience of having one. Like, with all the steps involved. In order. He was at the point in his life that he wanted it more than anything.

More importantly, he wanted to give Juvia that experience. He was determined to do right by her.

With the girls' reality check, and the point they'd made that ambiguity might make Juvia jump to the wrong conclusion or even hurt her, they'd convinced him. He'd been committed to making his long-awaited confession as special for Juvia as possible, complete with saying any embarrassing words she wanted to hear.

Gray still hadn't felt worthy of the love she gave him. He still struggled to believe he was a man who could protect her. But after everything he'd been through during the 100-Year-Quest, seeing how much she'd missed him the whole time, and his talk with Juvina-sama, he'd understood it was completely unfair to ask Juvia to wait for him to decide he was worthy enough to love her openly. He also wasn't above admitting that Juvina-sama's suggestion that she wouldn't wait forever had disquieted some irrational part of him enough to make him antsy, impatient to make absolutely sure they were exclusive.

He'd been completely flustered throughout his confession, but known it had gone as right as it could. Lucy, Levy, and Erza—who thought they'd been slick, hiding in a nearby bush to watch him confess—had agreed. (Lucy had annoyed him to no end by teasing him over how "adorable" he'd been.)

And yet...Juvia's response hadn't been quite what Gray hoped. Lucy hadn't noticed it, but he had. He didn't know exactly when it had happened, but at some point, he'd learned to read the Water Mage like an open book. For how sincere a person she was—a trait he was all too familiar with—Juvia could also be surprising, even mysterious. As transient as water, with hidden depths you'd never know a thing about unless you were willing to dive beneath the surface.

When Gray confessed, he'd braced himself for joyous screaming. He'd planned to freeze a literal flood of tears before it could wash them both away. He'd been prepared to get a concussion from how hard she'd glomp him in the street. But while she had said yes, demurely accepted the roses, and hugged him plenty tight...her response had been subdued. In hindsight, he could see the pattern her reaction fit: the way her gaze had dropped to the street despite her happy flush, the hesitant, nervous gleam in her eyes, the limited verbal response.

The only times she'd ever acted that way had been when he actually reciprocated some of her affection. When he'd promised to give her a straight answer, after he defeated END. When he'd given her a one-armed hug and said he was glad her "body" was safe, after he'd saved her from that wood bastard.

Something had been wrong. But when the girls who'd spied on him only gushed afterwards, not seeming to have noticed anything off, he'd shrugged off his concerns, assuming it was his own lack of romantic literacy. He'd been nervous, but also really excited to learn.

But as their relationship officially began...it quickly became obvious that there was a problem, and that a one-sided approach to fixing it just wasn't going to cut it.

Juvia had always been prone to mood swings severe enough to make Gray's head spin, but as soon as they started dating, her mood seemed to sink. He'd try to ask her about it only for her to put on an obviously fake, cheery front and insist she was fine.

At first, he was sure it must be his fault. He'd had no idea what he was doing wrong. At that point, the guilt he felt for not taking Juvia's feelings seriously for so long, for abandoning her in Amefurashi Village, and for nearly letting her die in an attempt to save him had been taking a serious toll on him. The guilt had sometimes left him ragged. Every time she seemed down, he beat himself up and tried to do better. Talking, dates, spending time together (even when it meant ditching missions he really wanted to go on with the team), accepting her gifts and acting happy about them (no matter how much they creeped him out).

But the more he'd tried to make up for everything, the worse it seemed to get. He watched her frustration rise as he tried to be more openly affectionate, her denials that she was frustrated getting louder. More and more, she gave, but when he gave back, she'd look ready to explode or burst into tears.

What had made everything come to a head was the sex. A surprise in itself. For all the ways their relationship had suffered, sex had never been one of them. It'd started back in the cabin they shared in Amefurashi Village. From the first night they'd moved in together, Juvia had not-so-surprisingly tried to edge her way into Gray's bed constantly. She'd use excuses of cold weather, make puppy eyes, and sew nauseatingly pink coupley bed sheets to try to lure him (when, he still had no idea).

Meanwhile, he struggled more and more to pretend he didn't find (most of) her antics adorable. Not to mention incredibly tempting. Things escalated to where he'd feel his excitement rising towards the end of their daily training sessions, to the point his body became conditioned to react when he saw the damn sun set.

He also felt increasing dread at the notion of having to turn Juvia down—and for having to sneak out in the middle of every night to "take care" of the problem she always left him with (cold showers didn't exactly work for an Ice Wizard).

Finally, one night, she'd pouted and whined that she was sore from training and begged for a massage. Gray didn't know if it was the fact she was asking him for something instead of offering; the unbelievably cute, sparkly-eyed, hopeful glances she kept sneaking at him; or the fact he could tell she actually was sore from the way her face would pinch as she attempted to stretch provocatively in front of him, but his resolve had shattered.

Before he could think and without a word, he'd lifted his covers and held her gaze, not bothering to hide the dark promise in his eyes.

Her reaction had been priceless. He'd never forget it.

His acceptance seemed to knock the breath straight out of her. Her eyes had gone round as saucers, staring into his eyes like she couldn't believe what she was seeing. Her cheeks had darkened. She'd stood stunned for so long that he'd started to get nervous, wondering if she'd only been being playful all this time, not really meaning to come on to him or maybe not expecting him to ever accept. But just as he'd been trying to field the disappointment sinking his heart and trying to think of how to promise he wouldn't do anything she didn't want, she'd hesitantly approached the bed, trembling.

After giving her the massage she'd asked for, he'd rewarded her bravery three times over.

After that, for the very first time, the dynamic of their relationship shifted in one, important way—the one which would force him to finally confront his own heart:

In terms of their physical relationship, he became the more dominant one. In this one aspect of their shared life, he chased. Gray flustered Juvia. He hadn't been able to get enough. What had once been a relentless, one-sided pursuit (one where she had, admittedly, been gaining on him without his notice) became a dance which had addicted him before he knew it.

The notion of reciprocating her feelings had once had him running for the hills. So it had been a huge shock to learn just how much he liked it.

She was so obviously happy and disbelieving that first time he slipped her clothes off in the moonlit dark, cursing over her beauty. Utterly awestruck when he'd seen to her pleasure (twice, he still liked to remember proudly) before even considering his own. Sex was the first time he heard her speak in the first-person, the first time she said his name without adding "-sama" (since that battle in the rain, anyway.)

It was when he lost himself in her soft skin, her passion, and her pleasure that some part of him was able to accept the truth she'd had the grace to surrender to from the very beginning.

The shift in their sex life was also when he'd started to twig something wasn't right between them. After Alvarez was when he'd started it back up. His plan had been to wait until he was able to reciprocate her feelings verbally, like he'd promised, but almost losing her had broken him in a way some part of him would never truly recover from. Between that and his final, full acceptance of his own feelings, there'd been no restraining himself. He'd come onto her with all the subtlety of a freight train the second they were alone.

Even then, something hadn't been quite right. She hadn't been herself, quiet enough that—even as...compromised as his critical thinking skills had been, at the time, and even in his heightened emotional state—he'd noticed. He'd pulled back and asked if she was okay, but when her response had simply been to drag him back in for a kiss that made his knees weak, he'd taken it as a yes and matched her passion enthusiastically.

She kept staying quiet in bed. It bothered the hell out of him, and he badgered her about it more than once, but would ultimately let it go when she insisted she was fine. In his defense, there had been a lot of reasons she could've become subdued. They had just fought a war. They were all exhausted from fixing the town and working to build peace in Fiore.

But after the 100-Year Quest and after his confession, she got even weirder. He noticed it all the time, in every aspect of their relationship, but it was especially noticeable in bed, when they were so close to each other, both completely vulnerable.

When they'd cohabitated, he'd almost always been the one to start something. He'd enjoyed that. He'd even (hell, especially) enjoyed the way she'd flirt, pretend to be oblivious to his advances, pout and blush and make him impress her, coax him to the brink of losing his mind before finally caving to both of their desires. Those times where he went from prey to predator had balanced their entire relationship, satisfying both of them.

Gray wasn't some slimeball who needed sex, but he did need some balance in their dynamic. The private, physical side of their relationship was just where it'd happened to play out. It could've played out anywhere in their relationship, if they were off sex for a while for whatever reason.

But as soon as they became official, it became clear she'd fight tooth and nail to make sure that never happened.

She came onto him. Every. Single. Time. He'd been a little surprised, but happy enough. At first. But as he pushed her to talk to him harder and she denied louder, he'd started to guess that something was genuinely, really wrong.

She didn't speak in the first-person when they were intimate, any more. She didn't drop the "-sama." Even worse, he started to suspect she was seducing him even when she wasn't really in the mood. Almost like she felt like she had to.

It had been one such time when he finally flipped his shit. Even now, walking behind her and appreciating her curves, the memory made his mood falter a little.

He regretted how he'd handled things. It shamed him to remember how he'd all but shoved her off him and refused to do anything else with her until she was ready to tell him whatever the hell was going on inside that crazy, watery head of hers. It was an ultimatum. A cruelly-put one, at that. He hadn't realized just how hurt and angry he was until the words flew out of his mouth.

Juvia had opened up, alright.

In fact, she'd exploded.

They'd screamed at each other, horrible things Gray could hardly stand to repeat even in his own head. She'd demanded that he quit wasting both their time and leave her again, like they both knew he would. He'd asked how stupid she could be to think he'd do that, when he was obviously dedicated enough to put up with her psycho stalker gifts. She'd retorted that her "psycho stalker gifts" didn't seem to have any affect on his libido. He'd yelled that she was the one jumping his bones, ever since he'd asked her out. She'd said that was because she actually cared about his happiness, implying that was something he'd never understand.

She'd ended the black, ugly fight with four hoarse words that ripped his heart out of his chest: "This is over, Gray-sama!"

His apartment door had slammed behind her.

He'd been too shocked and devastated to do anything but watch her go, not even managing to stagger to the door and chase after her until she was long-gone. Black curse power had swirled across his skin as he pelted to the guild, growling in frustration when he didn't find her there. Then he'd run all the way to the female dorms at Fairy Hills only to be deterred by Erza, who met him at the gate. She hadn't known anything about his and Juvia's fight, but she'd been drawn by his yelling.

His older sister figure had knocked him out "for his own good."

The next afternoon, Gray had woken up in his own bed. Not bothering to see if he was dressed (it would turn out he wasn't) he'd booked straight to the guild only to be devastated by the news that Juvia had taken a long-term S-class quest just that morning, news which was delivered by a sympathetic Mira.

Sure that it was over, that he'd ruined everything, he'd drunk himself sick—then kept drinking, swinging fists at anyone and everyone who tried to console him until, finally, in the wee hours of the next morning, Gajeel managed to knock him out of it.

The hostility, Gray had expected. Gajeel was Juvia's best friend; of course he was angry to learn that Gray had done something to upset her so much, she'd left for a Quest that could take months or even years to finish without so much as a word to Gajeel or any of their other comrades.

What did surprise Gray was the understanding Gajeel eventually showed.

Gray got his ass knocked flat by the Iron Dragon Slayer. From his back on the ground, he started to spit out what happened. With each word, the larger man had visibly calmed. After enough had come out, he'd awkwardly helped Gray to his feet (his own, gruff brand of apology.) He'd helped Gray sober up, then he'd given him a pep talk.

He'd refused to explain his own guesses as to what was going on with Juvia, insisting "who knows what goes on in that water witch's head." But he'd also insisted that whatever was going on, it for damn sure wasn't what Gray thought, which was that he'd hurt her too badly for her to love him anymore.

"She's obsessed with you," the man had said, scowling in disgust. "She's always been obsessed with you. She's way too stubborn to let it go that easy. It's annoying."

By six AM, Gajeel Redfox—of all people—had talked Gray into chasing after the love of his life. He'd even used his Iron Magic to create a lockpick which got them into the archive room, where they'd found Mira's records...and Juvia's location.

He'd barely had the time to register the irony of her quest's location before he was gone, shooting Gajeel a gruff "thanks" over his shoulder and running home to pack.

It'd been raining when he finally walked into Amefurashi Village.

He hadn't consciously known where to start looking when he arrived, but his feet—following some combination of muscle memory and the fate he'd fought for so long—had carried him to the place where the word "home" had changed for him: the cabin he and Juvia had shared. Where they'd grown together. Taken care of each other.

Where he'd left her. Hurt her. Even if most of the reason to do so was because he wanted to protect her, he couldn't stop hating himself for that.

She was standing outside the place, drenched and shivering, when he got there. As if sensing his arrival as surely as he'd known where to find her, Juvia had turned to look at Gray with eyes that were glassy above flushed cheeks. She'd wavered on her feet.

As soon as she'd whispered his name, she'd toppled. Gray's bag had landed in a puddle with a splashy thunk. He'd lunged to catch her like his life depended on it.

Shouting her name had earned him no response, but pressing the back of his hand to her forehead had been enough to convince him that she had a seriously high fever.

Strangely, as worried as he'd been about her, he hadn't even thought to bring her back to Wendy or seek a nearer healer. In hindsight, he was sure that deep down, he'd realized it would do no good; she wasn't physically ill, but heartsick, just as he was. He'd felt lower than the mud gathering around his boots.

He'd been surprised to discover that he had to break into their old home, and rapidly deduced that Juvia hadn't been staying at their old cabin even though she'd been standing outside of it, both from that fact and the fact that none of her stuff was there.

As soon as he lay her in the bed which had once been his before becoming theirs, she'd begun shivering. For the first time in his life, Gray cursed that he was an Ice Wizard instead of a Fire Wizard.

He'd run outside, grabbed his bag, then come back in—only to curse again when he unclasped the bag only to discover that all its contents were soaked. Thinking quickly, he'd stripped his wet clothes, then hers. He'd climbed into bed with her.

"'M sorry, Gray-sama..." she'd slurred her sleep. "Juvia's so sorry...Juvia had to...I just had to..."

He'd shushed her, rubbing her arms to try to warm her up. "It's okay, Juvia. I know, my love. It's okay..."

He'd kept holding her and whispering soft comfort to her until she'd finally stopped shivering, at which point his frantic worry had abated enough that he could fully admit to himself how good it felt to have her in his arms, her skin against his. How warm she was. How perfectly she fit against him. How much he missed her. She was right there, as close as another person could ever be to him. Yet with how things had been between them lately and how lost she was to fever, he'd never felt further away.

Apparently, he'd fallen asleep at some point, because when he awoke, it was to the rising sun blazing at him from the center of the cabin window. Ignoring his body's reaction to waking up in the arms of the very naked, beautiful woman he happened to be in love with, Gray had instantly dropped his hand to Juvia's forehead, sighing in relief when it became clear her fever had reduced. She wasn't better, but she was getting there.

Quickly figuring out what needed done, he'd dropped a tender kiss to her warm forehead, murmuring a threat against her sweaty hairline: "You'd better not even think of running away again, crazy woman. We are going to talk when I get back."

Gray had dressed, glanced back, and left. He'd met up with he client—a rich and unfortunately good-looking asshole about Gray's age who was way too disappointed Juvia, herself, wasn't the one who'd shown up. Through gritted teeth, Gray informed the bastard it would be a couple days before he and his partner (he was sure to emphasize those words several times) would be able to begin investigating the dark guild threatening the area, as she'd fallen ill.

It annoyed him to no end that the creep seemed genuinely concerned about this, trying to insert himself, demand to see her, and attempting to coax Gray into revealing her location (Gray couldn't help the pleasure and hope which rose in his chest, when he learned she hadn't told this guy wherever it was she was staying; obviously, she'd had no interest in sharing that information.)

The client had thrown a rich boy tantrum when Gray refused to tell him anything, but ultimately let him go when Gray promised Juvia would be there in a couple days (not bothering to mention that he would absolutely be there, too.)

He'd gone to pick up medicine and food. He'd grabbed all the ingredients he could remember for something hearty, mild, and delicious she used to make him when they lived together, a chicken stew that tasted like something he could remember from childhood. Those ingredients, medicine, ginger tea...anything he could think of that might help her feel better, he purchased, barely noting price.

Juvia had been waiting on the porch wrapped only in a blanket when he returned, flushed with both fever and anger.

They'd both been pissed at each other. While Gray locked horns with Juvia's amorous creep of a client, she had apparently been discovered by the landlord who owned their old cabin and only barely managed to talk him out of his anger, ultimately having to pay double their old monthly rent to keep him from calling the authorities—all while wrapped only in a blanket.

A brief yelling match had ensued. It ended when Juvia began coughing rather violently, Gray dropping his groceries in the mud to run to her. Even as she insisted she was fine, he'd ushered her into the cabin, forcing her to sit before he went back out to grab the food he'd bought.

Her face had gone funny when he began grouchily unloading chicken, rice, broth, veggies, and herbs. When he (somewhat defensively) asked what the hell she was staring at, she'd haltingly asked if he'd bought all of that for her. Exasperated, he'd told her of course he had, she'd had him worried sick.

The groceries had been abandoned when she burst into tears.

It had taken several minutes of heart-wrenching sobs on Juvia's part and coaxing on Gray's for the conversation to actually begin.

During their ugly fight in his apartment, she'd exploded.

Here, in the lonely home they'd once shared, she imploded.

While the groceries thawed and dripped on the kitchen counter, Juvia sobbed the whole, messy, painful truth into his chest. She told him everything. She told him how, deep down, she'd always known she wasn't worthy of having her love reciprocated by him. It had been true from the moment they'd met, when she'd been part of Phantom Lord, but remained true no matter how long she'd been at Fairy Tail. That was how she'd put it: "I always knew I wasn't worthy of Gray-sama's love." Not only because of her past, but because of how annoying she was. How gloomy. How creepy and obnoxious.

Gray hadn't even had time to express his horror at the fact she thought those things before she'd been plowing on, her tears only getting thicker and her words only making his heart sink lower.

She said knowing she didn't deserve his love had turned to knowing she didn't deserve to love him at all, when she'd killed Keyes to free Gray's father from his undead life. But even though "Gray-sama had been wonderful enough to forgive Juvia," she'd continued to hate herself, deep down.

She told him that sharing a life in the cabin they were currently in had, for her, been the sweetest kind of torture. That she'd never been so happy—and never felt more undeserving. For the first time, she told him that she'd only had one lover before Gray, some piece of shit named "Bora" who'd never cared about her or her pleasure. Gray had been nothing like him, attentive, caring, and as invested in her pleasure as he was in his own. At first, feeling so cared for had been as overwhelming as it was amazing, but by the time Gray started to pull away from her for his mission, the overwhelmed feelings had slowly begun to fade, letting her forget everything but the happiness she felt with him.

Juvia told him that the day he abandoned her to infiltrate Avatar, everything which she'd started to believe could feel right began to feel wrong, and everything which had felt wrong began to feel right. She'd never felt she deserved to be loved by Gray the way she loved him. Being left by him had, in a horrible way, made her feel like the world was how it was supposed to be.

But it had also ripped her apart.

It had destroyed any confidence she'd begun to gain in herself.

She told him that she resented being abandoned. Resented not being told about his mission to infiltrate a Dark Guild, not just because of their relationship, but because she had once been in a Dark Guild, and could potentially have helped his and Erza's Mission. She'd not only felt betrayed on a personal level, but disrespected as a Mage with no small amount of skill and experience.

It was a side to the issue which he had, shameflly, never considered.

He was mortified when she'd finally let herself chastise him for this—especially when he'd tried to defend himself by bringing up details of his mission only to be instantly struck down and ripped apart by someone who was, in fact, very obviously more knowledgeable about the inner workings of Dark Guilds than either he or Erza ever had been. Hell, Juvia could probably have run the mission almost as well as Jellal had.

For the first time, he saw just how beneficial it would have been to have her on board, despite Erza urging him not to get her involved. He should've gone against her orders, asked forgiveness instead of permission. Over the course of that one conversation, it was clear that having her on board would have shortened the length of their mission by probably several months.

But worse than the benefits they'd missed out on, in infiltrating Avatar, worse than the fact that she resented him, was her admission that she hated herself for that resentment.

She'd apologized. So many times. Too many times to count. Each apology was another crack in Gray's heart. He'd tried to ask her to stop, but they'd just kept slipping out anyway. It was like she couldn't help it.

She'd told him that over time, as she got to know the other women in Fairy Tail—Lucy, Cana, and Levy—she'd realized just how unworthy she was of the care Gray held for even just his friends. She just hadn't been forced to confront her own lacking sense of self-worth...until he openly reciprocated her feelings.

She said that the second he confessed, part of her felt wrong. Like she'd donned someone else's skin—someone who was worth being loved by Gray. Her guilt, her knowledge that she wasn't worthy of him, her bitterness, her self-hatred...all of it had come rushing to the surface.

She told him that, as unworthy as she'd felt, she'd been too selfish to reject him. Too angry at the thought of him being with someone else. Her own selfishness made her feel even worse than before. She'd been determined to be worthy of him, and so she had sought to pay every ounce of love he gave her three times over. At least.

It hadn't made her feel any better. No matter how hard she tried to be sure to pay him back, every time Gray took her on a date or made love to her, it made her skin crawl, because she didn't deserve it. She didn't deserve his love, his affection, or even his attention. He deserved better, and she was nowhere close to deserving him. She never would be.

If there had been even one last, single sliver of a doubt as to how he felt about this woman, it died then and there. Nothing—not his own guilt, being screamed at, or being broken up with—nothing could hurt worse than being made aware of what a hard time she was having. Learning just how badly she'd been dissociating during all their most precious moments. How much pain she was in. How little she thought of herself. How deep her scars ran.

He'd have given anything to take her pain away. He'd have given anything to change it. Right then, he couldn't think of a single thing he wouldn't have done to make her see herself as he saw her: the energetic, caring, fierce Mage he'd come to know. The woman who always eclipsed everything else for just a second, the first time he saw her every day.

He'd wanted to tell her all that, and more. He wanted to apologize. He'd wanted to tell her how badly he missed her after he'd left her here, that this place had been home for him, too. He'd wanted to tell her how much she meant to him, that no day without her smile even felt real, but his voice had been stuck behind a lump of misery and all he'd been able to do, for a very long time, was lay in their bed and hold her while she cried the rest of it out. He wasn't too ashamed to admit he lost a couple tears in her hair, too.

Over the twilight of time it had taken for her sobs to turn hoarse, then to whimpers, then sniffles, guilt, emotional exhaustion, an anguish washed over Gray in their turn.

Until finally, he hardened all of those feelings into resolve.

"I'm really thankful that you're here. For always being beside me..."

Those were the words Gray had said to her before Alvarez, and he'd meant them. For years, Juvia had done nothing but be there for him. Even when he didn't want her there, she stayed right next to him, quietly piecing together his heart and his trust. It killed him that the woman who'd confronted him with her love, made him face down his own weakness, always thought of him, and helped him so much more than he could ever truly thank her for had been hiding so much of her own pain. He wished she would have told him any of this all the times he'd pushed and asked.

But he couldn't blame her for that. Maybe she hadn't opened up to him before then, but her mentions of her days in Phantom and of that shithead ex of hers had driven home, with stark clarity, a realization he wished he'd made a lot sooner: Juvia didn't know how to open up like Gray had tried to demand, because she hadn't grown up somewhere like Fairy Tail.

Unlike Gray and Natsu and the others, she hadn't been taught to bare her pain, hadn't always known there would be someone to listen to her, cry with her, be on her side. While Gray had been fought, teased, and accepted for exactly who he was (more often his whole self than not) Juvia had been abandoned by every single person in her life except Gajeel and those who'd wanted to use her for their own ends. Gray abandoning her had only confirmed what she'd been taught was inevitable.

But the Ice Mage wouldn't linger on that. He wouldn't give any more time to despair.

It was his turn now, he realized. His turn to stay beside her even when it was hard, and do the work. Now, he just had to figure out how. But while he'd been trying to do that, had been gathering his words, Juvia had recovered enough to speak once more.

She'd apologized again. She'd told him that she knew this was too much, that all of this was too much...that she was too much. For the times they'd shared, she thanked him quietly, eyes bright with yet more tears and refusing to meet his as she continued that she'd had to let Gray go because she wanted him to be happy, and she'd finally, finally realized she could never do that for him, not really. Then she'd tried to push him away, and as Gray had tightened his grip, he'd realized he didn't need to figure out what to do, what to say, or how to love her.

She'd been showing him all along.

After a deep breath, the words had come low, and easier than he'd thought. He told her she was right, all of this was a lot...but also that he was so, so happy she'd finally told him what was really going on. He'd been as gentle as possible when he told her he could see how difficult and scary it had been for her to open up about all this and that he was proud of how brave she'd been for doing so, but she'd started crying again anyway, so he'd had to carry on with a shakier, hoarser voice.

He'd apologized. For everything. For not taking her feelings seriously for so long, for not seeing her when she needed to be seen, for leaving her behind and hurting her so badly she'd gotten sick. He hadn't been dismissing her abilities as a Mage so much as he'd been trying to protect her, but that was no excuse. "High-handed and cruel" was a generous way to describe his behavior, and he finally saw that. He'd told her that if he could take it back, he would. But he couldn't. He could only promise to never, ever leave her like that again, and he was more than ready to make that promise. He had been for a long time, since well into the 1oo Years Quest. If she'd only give him another chance, he'd show her.

At this point, Juvia had obviously started to twig that this conversation wasn't going to go how she planned, with Gray accepting she was too burdensome and unworthy for him and leaving her alone like everyone else had left her, because she'd started kicking up a fuss, forcing him to hold her there again.

"Let Juvia go, Gray-sama!" she'd demanded shakily, sounding like she was barely clinging to her determination. But Gray had refused. He refused to let her go like this, not until she'd heard him out.

As brief as the ensuing argument had been, it was also one of the most frustrating conversations Gray had ever taken part in (and he'd fought Natsu on basically every cock-and-bull-ass plan he'd ever come up with.)

He'd tried desperately to insist that while Juvia could be creepy and he did find rain somewhat gloomy, she was not worthless or annoying or obnoxious. He'd tried to tell her that she did make him happy. He'd tried to tell her how he felt about her.

Juvia had not responded well.

A wall had slammed up in her eyes, the same blank one he'd met on that fateful, rainy day so long ago. As she'd kept denying, and he'd kept pushing, their voices had gotten louder. Eventually, Gray had realized it was raining outside the window next to their bed again, and that was the one thing that had forced him to take a step back from his own frustration. Lucky, because if he hadn't, he might have flown off the handle and ruined everything all over again.

Looking down at her, he'd forced himself to cool off and realized he was being unfair; he was asking her to take an entire journey in one leap, to unlearn a lifetime's-worth of lessons about her own worthlessness over the course of a single conversation. No one could do that. It was an unreasonable thing to ask.

And so, when he'd finally gathered his wits and perspective enough, he'd said, "You don't have to agree with me. You don't have to agree with my feelings for you. But you have to believe that they're real...and you have to at least consider my side."

Juvia's eyes had gone wide. As they regained their sparkle, he'd refused to break eye contact. Slowly, the rain had stopped, leaving them in the silent hut.

After what felt like years, she'd shakily whispered, "O-okay."

And Gray had known that they were finally, finally getting somewhere.

Quietly and slowly, with their hands intertwined between their chests and their foreheads pressed together, they'd pieced together a fragile plan. They would stay together and be as they had been, but from now on, they were both going to make a concerted effort to be honest and rebuild trust. Gray started by admitting that missing out on Quests with his team had really started to bum him out, and while this seemed to sadden Juvia at first, she admitted after some thought that in being with Gray, she hadn't been nurturing her own friendships with her friends like Gajeel and Meredy. Lucy had also asked for help training her in Water Magic, and Juvia had declined so far even though she was interested in having someone to teach.

Gray had encouraged all of this...and he'd encouraged her to visit Porlyusica, too, when they got home. The old lady was hardly a Mental Healer, but she'd hopefully be able to help them find someone who was, someone objective and removed from the situation who Juvia could talk to openly. One thing which had sunk in fully for Gray over the course of Juvia's heartrending speech was that it was going to take a lot of time, work, and love to get Juvia to a better place. There was no way the two of them could do it alone.

They'd talked and planned until their voices were hoarse...and then they'd not talked for even longer. Juvia once again dropped the "-sama." She let him come to her. She didn't just surrender herself to him the way she had when they had each other before in their cabin, she'd given him even more—in his arms, she'd bared a small and precious part of herself Gray had never even realized she hid from him.

Over the course of the month they spent in that cabin, he'd cherished everything she gave him more than most men could've in twice the amount of time. How they'd managed to deal with that Dark Guild months and months ahead of schedule, he would never understand, because his head had never been less in the game. Neither of them had been able keep their hands off each other for more than an hour when they were alone together.

Neither had been particularly disappointed when that crotchety old landlord refused to give them back any part of their months' rent. Instead, they'd stayed till June was up breaking the place in thoroughly.

"It's payback for him being a jackass to you!" Gray had once playfully defended against her neck, pinning her against the kitchen counter and grinning as she gigglingly scolded him.

He only prayed no one ever took a UV Lacrima to the inside of that place. They'd go blind. He'd taken her on the couch, over it, against the walls, on the counters and tables, and in more positions than he'd previously known existed in that bed. When they returned home, a bunch of people had pointed out that they both looked like they'd lost weight. Gray didn't doubt it, after all the—

"...seriously, none of you know what it's like, every time we travel...OI, STRIPPER, YOU MAYBE WANNA QUIT EYE-FUCKING YOUR GIRLFRIEND WHEN WE'RE IN PUBLIC, YOU GODDAMN PERVERT?!"

The absolute last voice Gray wanted to hear when he was thinking about such great, intimate things yanked him out of his reflections in the most unpleasant of ways. An expression crossed between a scowl and a grimace consumed his features.

"Gray-sama!?" Juvia spluttered, craning her neck to peer at them over her shoulder with wide eyes. She looked half-scolding, half...affected as her cheeks went rose red.

Gray felt his own face grow hot as he turned to glare furiously at the pink-haired, disgusted-and-disgusting-looking bane of his existence.

"Would you keep your voice down, Dragon Boy?! I was not 'eye-fucking' Juvia!" His cheeks burned hotter as an elderly woman passing by shot him a deeply disapproving look.

"The hell you weren't!" Natsu snapped, drawing even more attention. "I could see all your gross, perverted thoughts right there in those droopy eyes of yours!"

"ARGH! So what?!" Gray just wanted this fight to be over, and figured that sort of admitting to what he'd been doing was the quickest way to make that happen. "Can't a guy even look at his girlfriend without pink-haired, flame-brained losers getting involved?!"

"THE HELL YOU JUST CALL ME?!"

"OH, SO YOU'RE DEAF AS WELL AS BRAINLESS, NOW?!"

"THAT'S IT, I'VE HAD IT! YOU'RE DEAD, YOU ICY BAS—"

"That's enough."

Uncharacteristically subdued and uninvolved though Erza's command was, it was enough to have both Natsu and Gray cringing and sweating in fear almost instantly.

"A-aye!" they squeaked, then sighed in relief as she shot them one last glare and clanked away.

"Ah, it always goes this way." Happy folded his little blue sausage arms over his chest and tsked. "If only Gray had kept his perverted eyes on himself, we wouldn't even be talking about this."

"And just how the heck is one supposed to 'keep their eyes on themselves', huh?" Gray growled up at the floating Exceed.

"By not being you, apparently!" he cackled back, Natsu soon joining him in his obnoxious guffawing.

"Why, you—! Get back here, you little shit!" Gray made a random grab at the little creep only to curse as he missed his tail by about a centimeter.

Meanwhile, Juvia clasped her still-red cheeks with her hands and donned an all-too-familiar, starry-eyed expression. "Juvia does not mind at all if Gray-sama...covets Juvia in public! How Juvia adores Gray-sama's passion!"

Gray flinched as if he'd been whipped in the back. In a second flat, he was blushing again. "O-oi, Juvia—!" he started, scrambling to find a way to get her to calm down before she came onto him in public.

(Again.)

"However," she continued before he figured out how to distract her, turning to look at him with a mischievous twinkle in her eye. "If Gray-sama is going to covet Juvia on a public street, Juvia thinks he should at least wear clothes."

"Wha—?! CRAP!" Gray shouted as soon as he realized he'd stripped down to his boxers. "When did that happen!?"

Juvia wrinkled her nose cutely and giggled while he scrambled for his clothes. When he was finally yanking his jacket on, he shot her a playful glare only for his lips to quirk when she winked and sauntered after Erza.

That little...she'll get it later, he thought with a huff before shoving his hands in his pockets and strolling after her. He was well aware that he was full-on grinning, now, and didn't care in the slightest.

Little interactions like that...those were the fruits of all the hard work they—especially Juvia—had done when they got back from that S-Class mission. Gray had been prepared for it to be grueling and difficult, to fight. "Relationships take work" was a piece of advice he'd heard plenty, since he started asking for advice about how to love Juvia.

But what he'd never expected to find was that, while it was hard sometimes, it was work he was all too willing and capable of doing, because it was for her. For them. And what no one had told him was that, while loving someone meant their pain became yours, it also meant that their triumphs became yours, too.

Some days had been worse than others. Even though she'd been talking to a friend of Porlyusica's and made an impressive effort to spend more times with her friends, there were moments where Gray had felt like Juvia was back at square one. But he'd been there beside her, encouraging her every step of the way while she healed, learned that he wouldn't leave her again, learned that she was worth all of it. And slowly but surely, she'd healed.

That was what no one had told him: that every time she huffed at him to do his own laundry, teased him, sassed him into taking her on a real date, and even turned him down for sex, that he would feel such a huge rush of pride and triumph.

It was true that the road had been hard, but Gray had walked it with Juvia, and that had made every step worth it.

o(O)o

AN: Ah, sorry I don't have the time to edit this now and make it more cohesive! Also that I can't publish my next chapter of Chasing Tails just yet! I definitely, definitely will come back to edit this piece one day and make it better after I've done that. In the meantime, Happy Belated Gruvia Day!

P.S.: Fun Fact! I named this partly after one of my all-time favorite fics from a completely different fandom. The Hard Road by wthtonibelle, a Kacchako fic (from the My Hero Academia fandom) which is written in a similar way and has similar themes, only it's longer and better lol. check it out if you're so inclined!

[ineffectualdemon]

I am pro mental autonomy

People with mental illnesses deserve to have control over their mental health care and that includes whether or not they seek treatment or medication

By this I mean being openly mentally ill shouldn't be stigmatised against or forced treatment on if no one else is being harmed. Even if they make other people uncomfortable because discomfort is not harm

The rare instances where mental illness can contribute to harm against others is a complex matter and even then they should have a say in their treatment

And I say this as someone who has been situations where someone else's mental health has made me fear for my safety/life

But I have also been in many more situations where someone else's mental health made me uncomfortable. And I can tell you the way the people who merely made me uncomfy were treated by society was disgusting

(for the record I tried not to show my discomfort and either help or ignore them depending on the situation, my age, and what I felt was more appropriate at the time)

This is all to say I am against forcing treatment

That being said I am also really pissed off that the metric of who receives treatment is based solely off if they make other people uncomfortable/pose an obvious risk to themselves

I cannot tell you all the harm my religious delusions caused as a young person and why I have had to fight to find my own ways to protect myself. The distilled version is it drove me to self harm both physically and mentally and it would have gotten worse. There were times I was close to cutting my hands to mimic the stigmata and the only reason I didn't was because I was sure it would start on its own. I understood why people in the past had whipped themselves bloody in the name of God

I was in it deep

And I don't think anyone I lived with or knew knew about this at the time because a symptom of my delusions is that I can't tell people or bad things happen. Extreme secrecy is a by product of my delusions. And the religious delusions are only one of my delusions

I figured this out during a clear period in my early twenties and that's when I became someone known for oversharing. Because if I didn't have secrets I couldn't create elaborate realities in the same way. It hasn't ended the delusions but it has kept me safer and away from certain things but I know how easily I fall back into old delusions. I know religious delusions are just lying under the surface. Hell I listened to a song last year that had a Christian message and that alone very nearly pulled me back in. I had to stop myself from listening to it and it was difficult*

But I am not obviously mentally ill to most people. I don't show my symptoms very much because of the extreme secrecy part of it and generally other people aren't uncomfortable around me due to my delusions because they don't know about them

So when I went to the doctor during a lucid period and said "I have these issues and they cause me this kind of harm and I need help" and because I wasn't actively and obviously delusional in the moment and I was not making anyone else uncomfortable I was told "those aren't delusions" and denied treatment for them

Same for my hallucinations. Who cares if it scares me and keeps me from sleeping if I know they weren't real by the time I talked to a doctor and it didn't bother other people around me

I only ended up on an anti-psychotic and got therapy by emphasising my mood swings...you know. The thing that bothers other people

I'm off my anti-psychotic now for many reasons and the only reason I'm doing okay is because my in-laws paid for a private therapist for a year who actually believed me and helped me with my delusions and hallucinations

I am just so angry that people get treatment they don't want forced on them because other people find them a bother and people who want treatment can't get it because they aren't enough of a bother to other people

*and I was only able to do it because of my last therapist

[frogofalltime]

day 17

today i did NOT take my adhd meds

this was a bad idea, and i experienced a lot of withdrawal symptoms. i really do not recommend doing this unless you're told to by a doctor. but i did not get to sleep until after 3am last night, then i had really intense nightmares and slept through my alarms and woke up past midday, and i was so tired that i did not manage to get out of bed until like 1:30pm

i decided i really didn't want to take my medication late and stay awake even longer tonight, because i want to fix my sleep schedule before i have to get up for my 9am lectures at university starting on tuesday.

eventually i ate a meal (a toasted bagel, some grapes, and a bowl of vegetable soup). i still felt nauseous even though i didn't take the meds, which was annoying because i thought being off them would bring my appetite back.

i was more tired than i have been in weeks, and also i felt very depressed. my friends wanted to hang out but i really just wanted to go back to bed. but i knew that if i didn't see anyone i would feel worse, and if i slept all day i wouldn't be able to fix my sleep schedule at night, so i did my best to stay awake and i distracted myself so that i didn't spiral mentally.

after procrastinating on my phone for a few hours i eventually took a shower. it was very hard, i felt extremely overwhelmed and i thought i would pass out, but i survived.

at 5:30pm i went to my friends' house. walking there was very difficult because i felt dizzy and exhausted. when i arrived i lay down on the sofa and closed my eyes because i felt so sick.

i also had a really bad headache, the same as what i've been getting every day with this medication and similar to the ones i had for a while when i started my antidepressants back in october

i realised i was hungry so i ate a snack (a banana and some chocolate with hazelnuts). it didn't help much, but it was better than nothing at all. at least i wanted to eat, which was not the case for most of the last few days.

we played minecraft for a while but i stopped speaking or having fun because i felt so unwell and overstimulated. i think the withdrawal effects are making me struggle even more with my autistic traits than usual (which is already a high bar, but hey it's possible)

i went to the store to get some stuff for @etherealspacejelly and see if there was anything i wanted to eat, but i was Really out of it. like i didn't notice my friends had crossed the road and i couldn't figure out when it was safe for me to cross because it felt like too much Energy ?? idk

when i got back i cooked robin dinner which was not any effort at all in itself but everyone else also decided to cook at that time so the kitchen was very busy and overwhelming. i almost had a meltdown but i managed to calm down by locking myself in the bathroom and sitting down with my eyes closed and my hands over my ears.

i went up to robin's room with the food and he invited me to chill in there which was really nice, we haven't properly hung out for a while because we have both been too insane and ill. i'm happy i was able to be there to cheer them up and listen to some interesting infodumping. i had to lie down because i was feeling very dizzy and my head was hurting, but robin kept talking and making me laugh so i didn't fall asleep (which is often what happens because robin's bed is so comfy). it was a lot of fun. i love these kinds of evenings where we just lie there in the dark and talk about our special interests.

i was going to wash the dishes before i went home but i was not feeling well and it was already past 10pm so we left them for the night. i walked home and i did feel nauseous and had to sit down for 15 minutes when i got back but it was not as bad as i expected it to be.

after that i made myself some dinner (i just put some cheese and onion pastries in the toaster to warm up, i ate them with salad because vegetables are important). i feel really sick :/ now i am going to wash my bowl and then go to bed.

i'm not sure whether i should take my meds tomorrow or just deal with the withdrawal symptoms until they wear off ?? i will ask my doctor for advice.

goodnight everyone. please take your meds. i hope this diary gets more positive soon.

[stromuprisahat]

The main reason why Malina bothers me so much as a ship is because Mal never really notices or cares that Alina is really ill because of her wasting sickness. As someone who has struggled with severe depression before, and could sort of relate to how Alina felt while she suppressed her powers and was suffering with wasting sickness, that really struck me as uncaring. Mal never noticed when she was unhealthy, and then when she is visibly healthier and happier, he wasn't happy about that either. All he seemed to prioritize in that conversation was his own feelings. I really don't think Alina deserved a partner like that who didn't even notice or care about something as basic (and very important) as her health. When I was struggling with depression, I had the support of my parents and friends, but they also called me out when it was obvious that the tendencies that I was developing were clearly bad for me. In a healthy relationship, you need a balance of both those things, compassion as well as someone who will call you out when it's needed.

Oh, but he does notice.

I'm not sure how much of it is internalized hatred for Grisha, and how much his need to have Alina reliant on him, but when you put two and two together, the resulting picture isn't exactly flattering.

When a guy's angry you're not sickly for once in your life, makes a pointed comment about eating half a wild rabbit (2 kg living weight minus skin, bones, intestines... 500 g per portion if I'm being overly generous... as food for a whole day...), knows even other people know you look like shit, but doesn't seems to mind the fact itself... then keeps acting as if the new you were bad, so the reader can't help but wonder how much of his concern for Alina's well-being once she starts collecting amplifiers is truly about their possible negative side-effects, when more power also equals stronger, long-living Grisha.

That's the mess of mixing health with morality.

I fully understand your feelings. I have some mental and physical issues myself, and I cannot picture my loved ones not caring. My mum comes suggesting new possible ways of my treatment every once in a while, reading articles or talking to her acquaintances, and watching for any signs my "head meds" might not be working well even though that wouldn't make me dangerous in any way. My almost eighty y/o grandma's first steps after learning of my blood issues, were to consult "clever books" she has, and she's been also listening for any mention of similar symptoms on TV or radio.

Hell, my father, with whom I have no particularly close relationship, suggested possible solution, and people at work were- just last week- more concerned about my queasiness (That I've solved myslef with correct pills and an hour of rest.) more that Mal is about Alina's weakness and pathological lack of appetite.

The manager I've seen first two weeks ago seemed more genuinely concerned about me possibly passing out, than Alina's "oldest friend" ever...

So yeah, I don't buy Malina's love eternal either.

He cares for her only as his property. And not even the kind you wash and polish...

[stuffie-medical-vents]

Hi, very nervous system here.

Listen our father is 100% a narcissist. He was our main abuser. (NOT SAYING NARC ABUSE IS REAL BECAUSE IT ISNT)

We have tried SO HARD to explain to him why the shit he did is abusive and not acceptable. We tried fighting back, talking with him, writing to him so he can't cut us off and yell, sending him screenshots of mental illness symptoms of ours and how they're disabling.. like we've tried everything. We don't have NPD but we have ODD so I get hating criticism or being told something if it isn't done right but we've tried being gentle, writing professionally worded letters... and he still thinks he's in the right and we're just an ungrateful confused little shit who doesn't deserve anything nice. I mean he's a shitty person anyway but I want him to understand us.

We want to try and explain why he's in the wrong.

Coming to you because I'm hoping you might have some answers as to how I might be able to get him to sit down and listen to me when I speak! When any of us speak!

I'm sorry if I didn't word anything write and any of it sounds shitty I don't mean it to! Fully support cluster PDs! I just think it's his NPD that's causing him to ignore our voice because he's stated he feels bad for some of the things he's done, which means he understands! He just won't listen to what we have to say and why what he did is entirely wrong and not justified and how if effected us.

I hope this makes sense.

Our mother was also very neglectful and she's definitely a narcissist too but she's done way more listening and learning than he has. She's gotten much better and even apologized. I want to help our father too and maybe even mend our relationship since he's apparently upset that we never speak to him and didn't wish him a happy father's day and he can't seem to figure out why. If we can get him to finally stop cutting us off and speaking over us I think we can make him understand! I just don't know how to do that.

Hello. This isn't the usual thing I do. If you want more further things, please go to @fluffy-clusterb-paradise. But I will answer. Anyone who sees this, please see the tags before clicking.

As someone with NPD, I will answer to the best I can. First off, I appreciate you being as respectful as you can. But remember, don't throw that word around if you don't know. But if your father has been diagnosed with it, then it's fine. And it's good he shows some remorse. I'm gonna try my best to explain and give some of my points of view.

People with NPD gain that due to childhood trauma. So he most likely went through something and never properly had a father, which caused him not to know how to be a proper father. Which is understandable.

Here's where my advice comes in. I think he should go to therapy. And maybe you could convince him too. But other than that, here's what I got to say. Have you ever heard of the talking stick or feather? Maybe try that exercise. Get a random object, and the person holding that object can only talk. You start first, then give him the object so he can talk. And the cycle repeats? Will this work? Maybe and it may not. But if it doesn't. Walk away. Make it obvious that you won't listen if he won't. But don't speak, that might make it worse. Just walk away.

Disclaimer: I can't say what it will work. And I am not always in the best headspace. So, my writing may act dramatic or irrational. But please also keep in mind that I've been abused badly most of my life. So I'm used to taking high measures and cutting people off.

What can I say, though?: I recommend asking him if he learned how to be a father. Asking him what he thinks about you. How he feels about his actions. If he knows how to help. Feel free to use any of these or add on. These are only suggestions.

[mysteriouslybluepirate]

Watching Con O'Neill's Filmography: 'Telstar: the Joe Meek movie'

This movie needs Warnings for: Murder, graphic and accurate depictions of Suicide, depictions of depressive episodes, psychotic-of-body episodes, assault, manic moods, some nudity(nothing below the waist), semi depicted sex. Mentions of hate crimes, entrapment from a police officer, homophobic language, period-accurate (1960's England) homophobia, outing.

-----------------------------------------------------------------------

Con is a fucking genius, and yeah, I'm glad I waited until I was out of a bad headspace to watch this. I was finally pushed after listening to a podcast where he talks about his experience filming the movie. It reassured a lot of the hesitancy I had and made me appreciate how he must have made this.

Every actor kills it, and yeah, a few unfortunate actors are in this but play a small enough roll it shouldn't matter. Go in fully informed about triggers and how to keep yourself safe.

(SPOILERS FROM HERE ON OUT)

God, the fact that everyone went on to either disappear or revolutionize pop and rock music is so fucking depressing. The whole 'what happens to musicians' line just came true.

The movie never covered how much debt he owed, but god. The 3 million given a few months after his death just might have paid off. If he'd just stayed around for a bit longer, he might have built a better support system with people who could call his bullshit out.

As for the romance, god. You get that Joe Meek tended to attach himself to anyone who would listen. In the interview that made me watch the movie, Con said he'd listened to all this guy's work and a ton of it was puppy love-based music.

The guy who chose him just so happened to be young and unwilling to sacrifice his career for possibly being associated with him. Starting fresh and keeping Joe close as a 'friend' in the eyes of the public. Both members of the shitty relationship here are at fault for poor communication and abuse. But god, it just aches. I read it as a kid who slept with someone powerful and got too close. The lonely target is too willing to be taken advantage of for a taste of companionship.

If Joe had people around him who worked like he did maybe he could have had other influences. All the people in his life relied on his music to make money, and once he started to fall behind. Once society moved on, it was already too late. Just to survive everyone else had to move on.

The fading motif is amazing.

That moment Heinz goes to go back into the car, and the audience expects him to fade away, but Meek reaches out and grabs his hand in public. Desperate to keep him here since everyone else was leaving around him. Just fucking killed me.

The tragedy is knowing that if he'd just listened to the world around him. Stopped trying to make songs that worked in the 50s in the new era of the 60s, he could have survived. Everyone else saw this, but Meek just couldn't see it.

Other artists of the 50's era also had this split, which was why pop/rock was predominately younger, giving the new genera a shot.

Modern mental health specialists suspect real-life Meek of having schizophrenia and bipolar disorder with 'psychotic rages'. Con does play him like this, and it's so fucking refreshing.

I have both been diagnosed with BPD, and have schizophrenia-like symptoms from major depressive disorder, and yeah, a few scenes really hit home. It can feel like you are alone, being shoved into a corner. Hating yourself and not understanding why everyone hates you.

When in reality, much like Joe does in the movie, you are causing pain in the life of those around you. Sometimes people need to leave your life for a bit, and you don't get why. You don't realize how rude or mean you are in the moment. There are other things, but this is a general list of my initial thoughts.

Of course, a mentally ill person isn't just their illness. They never are, Joe also has a personality. Con plays a Joe Meek that is so desperate to be loved and accepted. He wants the things everyone else gets to have, success, money, and top hits without seeing how others around him could helm. His only want in life is a success; he never thought he'd get to love. His pride causes his downfall; it's never just his fault when things go wrong.

He'll have screaming scenes and be spitting and angry. In seconds he'll be sad Con O'Neill once again, portraying a sad broken man, with a smile and tears in his eyes, and AHH. I'm excited to rewatch this movie.

I feel for the landlady and Patrick. We don't know what really happened, obviously, but if that's how things ended...shit.

The cinematography is amazing, besides some bits that are very of its age. It feels era-appropriate. I'm excited to go do research about the inaccuracies. I want to look into if, after the outing, Joe started to really spiral. What the before and after were like.

------------------------------------------------------------------------

(This bit was added a bit after watching. This was the first Con movie I'd watched, so I didn't have this rating scale like his other works)

Con: Fucking 10/10. Joe obviously isn't my favorite Con character, but it might just be my favorite performance. Knowing that he was stage Joe, and was chosen to be Joe in the movie. Even if his name wouldn't fill seats at the time, was the right choice. Even though this is in a mid-late era compared to other things I watch in this series, it feels like a masterclass in acting. We get to see every shade of emotion Con is able to produce and it has heavily influenced how I appreciate him as an actor.

Everyone accept Con: 8-9/10. I can't think of any actors being awful and I couldn't find too many reports of inaccuracies from real-life people about their screen counterparts.

Editing: 8/10. Semi stuck in the era it came out in. There were a few scenes that felt a bit stuck in 2008, but other than that. The music choices, fun montages, and hard cuts were smooth and helped the story along. I personally love the cuts where we see future/present Joe having his breakdown, then showing exactly how Joe got to this headspace.

Music: Stellar. I personally can't stand a ton of music from this era, but god, the movie made everything feel so fresh. I knew where half of these bands ended up, and still, it felt new and exciting to see their start.

Overall: Personally a 10/10. I fucking love this movie, as a depiction of some of the struggles I've worked very hard to work on. Seeing a character you go from disliking to empathizing with. Would I recommend it to anyone? God no. You really need to evaluate just how heavily the warnings I gave above will be an issue. (If you've read this, haven't watched it, and want to ask about warnings, don't be afraid to message me)

Do I enjoy it mainly for Con? Maybe, but given that he's the character on screen for 70% of the movie I don't feel like that's a wrong 'bias' to have.

[stargazer-sims]

Journal Entry #47 (part one)

previously - Journal Entry #46 (part seven)

Victor

Hey, everyone.

So, it's been a while, and I'm not even sure where to start. Things have been... chaotic. I guess Yuri's been keeping you up to date, and I'm sure he's told you all about my accident and everything that's been happening since, so I won't go over that again. Living it once was enough, and I'm still having nightmares about it, so... yeah. I'm trying to keep my waking hours as free from it as I can.

I haven't felt like recording anything up to now. I mean, I obviously couldn't while I was in the hospital, but since I've been home again, I haven't had the mental stamina for it, or the physical stamina either, really. Being in pain is pretty exhausting, honestly. I think I probably already knew that from taking care of Yuri, but now I understand it from personal experience. I'm not used to feeling like crap and having hardly any energy, and it sucks.

I’m confident that my arms and rib are slowly getting better, and Mom says the bruises I had on my face and shoulder and down my side are totally gone, but I'm still having brutal headaches and I still can't see properly. Julian had to set up my phone for me so I could record this. If I'm not looking right into the camera, I'm sorry, and if I'm accidentally giving all of you like, a thousand-yard stare or something, I apologize for that too.

Sometimes I think my eyes are improving, but then I'll blink or I'll try to focus on something and it's just gone again. Mostly, everything's all blurry and indistinct, as if I'm looking through one of those frosted glass shower doors. It's frustrating because not only can I not play games on my Switch or text on my phone, I can't even do stuff that doesn't require major use of my hands and arms, like watching videos or practicing my reading or even picking out audio books by myself. I have to get help finding an audio book to listen to, or a movie. I basically have to listen to movies too, which is annoying.

When I'm not in too much pain, I get bored, and without being able to do anything to distract myself, all I can do is think. I don't like that. It's too scary and depressing, especially when I start worrying about whether my life really is going to get back to normal.

I realize it's only been a little over a week since my accident — this is Monday night and it happened a week ago Friday — so I shouldn't expect too much, too soon. The doctor did say it might take a few weeks or maybe up to a month for the worst of the symptoms to resolve, after all, and I might be dealing with some aftereffects for months. She said it was a grade 4 concussion, which is the most severe type because I was unconscious for more than a full minute, and she said I've got mild swelling of the brain. That's the explanation for the bad headaches and dizziness and of course the vision problems. I'm not supposed to be doing anything strenuous, or even remotely active, really. I'm not even allowed to climb the stairs by myself until the doctor clears me to do it. Not that I can actually climb the stairs by myself anyway, but you know.

Earlier today, Yuri's dad arranged an appointment for me with the oppthalmologist that he and Mrs. Okamoto, Yuri and Yuki all go to. Her name is Dr. Ishida, and she's going to see me this coming Friday. Exactly two weeks after the accident, if you're counting. I'm hoping she gives me better news than the ophthalmologist at the hospital did.

Yeah, you didn't hear that wrong. Mr. Okamoto arranged it. Yuri was going to do it himself, but he's actually sick right now and he's not up to making important phone calls. Like, he's sick enough for the hospital, if you ask me, but I think somebody would literally have to carry him out to the car to get him there.

Managing at home when he's this ill is not ideal in my opinion, but he says he doesn't want to go to the hospital because he doesn't want to leave me. I totally get that. I don't want us to be apart either, but I'm also freaking out because I can't take care of him like I usually do, and he's not comfortable with Mom or Julian doing what I normally would. Plus, they don't know everything they should be doing for him anyway, and it's super difficult for me to explain it.

All I can say is, thank goodness for Yuri's dad.

I know what you're likely thinking. Up to now, Yuri and his father have been on really bad terms and barely spoke to each other, and Mr. Okamoto hasn’t exactly been my biggest fan either, so why am I saying I’m grateful for him? Well, the thing is, he’s surprised us all during the last several days, and not in a negative way.

Let me try to explain.

Maybe people think Yuri’s not interested in a relationship with his dad, and I guess I wouldn’t blame anyone for believing that, considering how tense things were in the past. Yuri does actually want a relationship, but he and his dad are both so stubborn that once they started resenting each other for whatever real or imagined hurt they'd caused, neither one of them was willing to let go. I think Mr. Okamoto was more at fault than Yuri for the problems between them, mostly because he didn't know how to deal with Yuri not living up to his unreasonable expectations, but to be fair, you can't have a disagreement by yourself. Yuri isn't just an innocent victim of his dad's difficult personality and crappy communication skills. He had his own part to play.

But, since my accident, we're seeing a side of Mr. Okamoto that we've never seen before. It started with him coming to the hospital right after it happened, to sign consent forms, talk to the doctors and generally deal with stuff until Yuri could get there. Then, he stayed here with Yuri while I was in the hospital, which I was grateful for. I didn't like to think about him being alone. He said it was awkward, having his father here, but also kind of reassuring in a way.

I'm glad they both seem to be softening up, at least for the moment. Yuri really needs his dad in his life, and seeing Mr. Okamoto ready and willing to help us says something about how much has changed between them in a short time.

I want to be optimistic that things are going to get better between them going forward. Anyone who didn't know the whole story would probably be inclined to be positive in this situation, and maybe I should be too. I promise I'm trying, but knowing Mr. Okamoto, I have my doubts. He's not great at consistency and he hasn't shown much interest in the past, but I guess there's always a chance this time it'll be different. For Yuri's sake, I hope so, but I suppose we'll have to wait and see.

Anyway, on Saturday night after dinner, Mr. Okamoto came over to get the stuff Hana left here that morning. Apparently, Yuri had called or texted him to pick it up because he didn't want her coming back here for it herself. I'm pretty sure nobody wanted her to come back, least of all me, so I was relieved when my father-in-law took the bags and made his exit.

I'm not sure I was quite so relieved when he returned about two hours later, with bags of his own, and with Yuki in tow.

I mean, don’t get me wrong. I was thrilled to see Yuki. I just didn’t know what to expect with her and her father planning to stay here.

When Yuki first saw me, she ran to me and hugged me so hard that I thought she might break a few more of my ribs. Then we both cried a veritable flood while she told me she loved me and that she was glad I was alive.

I hadn't realized she was at the hospital with my friends on the day of my accident, and my heart hurt when she told me how worried she'd been. Nobody would tell her anything, she said, and when she wasn’t allowed to see me, she’d feared the worst. I said I was sorry for saying I didn't want anyone to come and see me in the hospital, and she said she understood, but I wondered if she did. In hindsight, I should've agreed to let her visit. I might've felt better after a hug from my favourite local super spy and internet personality, Yuki Okamoto.

Yuki and her father haven’t left here since Saturday night. He brought the smallest shikibuton for Yuki, and of course a normal sized one for himself, and the two of them have set up camp in the laundry room, of all places. Mom and Julian are in my room, Yuri's in his own room, and of course I'm still in the dining room, so it was the only spot left.

Mr. Okamoto said he was here to help. Nobody questioned him, not even Yuri. Since then, he's been doing all kinds of things around the house, including cooking and baking, which he's good at, and housecleaning chores, which he's not good at. Most importantly, he's doing things for Yuri, like helping him in the bathroom, and making sure he stays as nourished and hydrated as possible. Mom said he even gave him a bath this morning, which in her words, "left the upstairs bathroom looking like a small tsunami went through."

While Mom mused aloud about how he could've gotten so much water everywhere and why there were so many wet towels, and complained about the disaster area he'd left behind, I laughed so hard it hurt. I was trying to picture it, and all I could think about was the time me and Ellie were babysitting her cousins, and the four-year-old decided he wanted to be a sea monster while in the bath. We even got water on the ceiling that day, although we never mentioned it to Ellie’s aunt and uncle. I guessed Yuri probably hadn’t been anywhere near as lively as that kid had been, and it was much less likely that he’d wanted to play a game and splash around for fun, so it left me curious about the mess, too.

Bathtime tsunami notwithstanding, I'd be lying if I said I wasn't thankful for Mr. Okamoto's help right now. I doubt he's anywhere close to my standards when it comes to Yuri's care, but far be it from me to look this particular gift horse in the mouth. That he's even here at all is astounding, and the fact that he basically rolled up his sleeves and plunged into the current state of madness in our home is a super big deal.

On a connected and somewhat lighter note, I'm pretty sure Julian and Mr. Okamoto are besties now. Mom still seems a little cool toward him, but he and Julian have instantly bonded over their shared interests. They both play the piano, they both love art, and apparently Mr. Okamoto is as big a science fiction and fantasy nerd as Julian. Not gonna lie, listening to the two of them geek out over video games, role playing, Llama Man comics, and classic sci-fi B movies like It Came From Sixam and Day of the Plant Sims was kind of surreal.

It was highly entertaining, having an Uncle Kaz movie marathon with them on Sunday night. We watched some of Uncle Kaz's older Japanese-language films, with English subtitles, and me and Mr. Okamoto tried our best to help Julian understand the jokes. It was fun and felt weirdly comfortable, and by the end of it, my father-in-law and future stepfather were on a first-name basis. I'm not even allowed to call my father-in-law Kenji, so obviously Julian has made a great impression.

Wait... let me backtrack a bit. Like, a lot of stuff happened before the movie marathon, and it's way more important.

On Sunday, we all slept in. Once everybody except Yuri had finally gotten out of bed, Mr. Okamoto and Yuki made rice, eggs and grilled fish for breakfast, and it was so good. Mom had to feed most of my meal to me, but Yuki and I figured out a way for me to grip a spoon without using my thumb, so with her guidance, I was able to feed myself a bowl of rice. It was strange not using chopsticks, and I still feel embarrassed about getting help to eat, but I'm learning to accept it. It’s only temporary, and things could be a lot worse, right?

But, I digress.

After breakfast, Julian helped me upstairs so I could lie down and cuddle with Yuri for a while, and try to figure out just how ill he was. I knew it was serious the night before, when he didn’t come downstairs to share my mattress in the dining room, but I didn’t know the extent of it until I could see him and physically touch him.

To my dismay, it was way worse than I’d expected. He’d been unwell for a couple of weeks before my accident, and I realized he’d been declining, but this was really bad. It blew my mind how he’d managed to hide the true severity of his pain from me, but I reminded myself that I hadn’t exactly been in a fit state to notice every little nuance of his demeanour and body language like I normally would.

Obviously, he’d been forcing himself to do everything he thought he had to do instead of resting and taking care of himself, and by Saturday night his body didn’t have enough fight left in it. His immune system is weak at the best of times, and it’s like he’s constantly pushing through a state of nearly always being mildly unwell, but this had clearly been a headlong rush into a full-on crash. There was no way he hadn’t seen this coming, even if I hadn’t.

Once I was settled in bed with him, I let him lay on top of me the way he likes, even though it made my cracked rib hurt like hell. It was pointless to say anything or to try stopping him. He was so out of it, he probably didn't even realize what he was doing and just instinctively crawled onto me, seeking any bit of familiarity and human closeness he could find. I felt bad for him because even though I was in discomfort, I knew he was in far more pain than I was. I could feel heat radiating off his skin, and every time I moved even slightly, he whimpered.

I wished with every fibre of my being that I could make all his suffering disappear. I hated that he was so sick, and that it was at least partly my fault for not paying better attention to him and letting it get to this point without insisting that he needed rest and medical attention.

"This isn't good, Yuri," I told him, after I’d inadvertently shifted my weight, and he literally cried out from either the movement itself or the abrupt change of pressure against his stomach.

“Don’t… don’t do that,” he gasped. “Hurts. Gonna make me throw up.”

Normally, I might make a joke about him throwing up in bed, but this was not a laughing situation. “If you have to, tell me. I’ll yell for your dad.”

“Please… don’t.”

“I’m sorry,” I said. His tears were soaking through my t-shirt, and I felt helpless to comfort him. “Do you want to lay a different way? It might be less uncomfortable if you’re lying on your side or your back.”

“Wanna lie like this. With our whole bodies touching.”

“We can do that with you on your side,” I said. “You can be the little spoon.”

“Don’t wanna be the little spoon.” And to prove how adamant he was about it, he curled his fingers around a fistful of my shirt, as if daring me to pry him loose. I could feel his little hand trembling against my shoulder .

I rubbed small lines on his back with my fingertips. It felt inadequate, but it was all I could do with my arm in a cast. “Yuri,” I said. “Can you listen to me for a second?”

“Yeah,” was the weak reply.

"You need to see a doctor.”

“Don't want to.”

“You can’t go on like this. You need help, and you need to be somewhere where somebody can take care of you properly.”

"No..." He dragged out the single English syllable in a long whine before continuing in barely intelligible Japanese, "Want you to take care of me."

"I can't, sweet baby," I said. "I love you so much and I want to do everything for you, and I really I wish I could, but this is too much for either of us right now. You need to be where somebody can tend to you night and day, and I think you're gonna need medicine and intravenous fluids to help you get better."

"No," he repeated.

"Yes," I insisted. "Remember last time you were this sick? You needed fluids and antibiotics, and your doctor said the hospital was the best place for you."

"Don't want antibiotics. Make me feel worse."

"I know, but only for a short time. After that, you'll start feeling better a lot quicker. Let your dad take you to the hospital so you can get better?”

“No.”

“I’m worried about you, Yuri. Please.”

"Don't wanna be alone." he said.

"You wouldn't be alone. Me and Mom and Julian would all take turns staying with you. I think even your dad would. He's really stepped up lately, you know."

"Gotta tell him..." Yuri said, but then seemed to lose the thought, and mumbled something that sounded like, "My violin."

I smiled despite the circumstances. "You have to tell your dad about your violin? What about it?"

He let out a little grunt of frustration and tugged feebly at my shirt. "Victor!"

"I'm here."

"Listen."

"I'm listening, love."

"My violin case. Tell Papa..." He trailed off momentarily, as if he was trying to think of how to make the most impact with as few words as possible. "In my violin case. Look. It's important."

"Okay," I agreed.

"Thank you," he whispered. And then, "Love you. Just... wanna protect you."

"I know," I said. "I love you too."

"Please... tell Papa. Promise."

"I promise."

That satisfied him, and he let out a long, shaky breath that was half sigh and half moan. "Gonna sleep," he murmured. He was still clutching my shirt, but it didn't take long before I felt his fingers relax.

I lay awake, thinking. I couldn't imagine what would be in Yuri's violin case other than his violin, and why it'd be so important for his father to see it, but he was so insistent that I figured I'd better not ignore his request. Besides, I promised, and you guys know how I hate breaking promises, especially ones I've made to Yuri.

When I was sure he was sound asleep, I eased him off me as carefully as I could, and then climbed out of bed. It took me a second to orient myself, and then a few more seconds to crawl my way over to where Yuri usually keeps his violin case, on the floor next to his dresser. I could make out the shape of it, and to my surprise, the distinct shape of his violin on its stand next to it. He almost never leaves his violin out for long periods of time. I didn't know when he'd practiced last, but it definitely hadn't been since I got out of the hospital. He wouldn't have left it out since Thursday, so I guessed he must've taken it out sometime on Saturday.

But why?

Cursing my clumsy fingers, I fumbled with the latch of the case for a minute or two. I let out my breath when I finally got it open.

What I found inside was something I totally did not expect. It was a beige file folder stuffed with papers.

I didn't dare try to lift it out by myself, fearing that I'd end up spilling the contents all over the floor. I knew I wouldn't be able to read anything, but I had to soothe my curiosity anyway, so I hooked my fingers under the cover of the folder and flipped it open.

I'll admit, had no idea what to make of it when I thought I saw two passports inside. Why would Yuri have our passports in a folder like this? He’d said he wanted to protect me, but surely that didn’t include leaving the country? Neither of us were in any shape for that. I didn’t understand.

I probably would've panicked if my bruised brain hadn't suddenly registered the fact that both passports were red. The covers of Canadian passports are dark blue, so neither of these could've been mine, and if mine wasn't there then Yuri's wasn't either. Even if either of us could travel, he wouldn't go anywhere without me. I was sure of that.

But, that only begged the question, whose passports were they? And what was Yuri doing with them?

Obviously, it wasn't something he was trying to hide from me, or he wouldn't have directed me to them and asked me to tell his father. The thing was, there was no way in hell I was going to show anything to Mr. Okamoto until I knew what it was myself.

Since I couldn't read the papers, and I couldn't ask Yuri about them, I decided there was only one thing to do. I made my way the short distance back to the bed, and then felt around carefully on the nightstand to locate Yuri's phone. I was glad we'd activated voice dialling on both our phones a few days ago, as that was going to make my mission a whole lot easier.

I had to concentrate to remember how Yuri had listed my mother in his contacts, but once I got it, I said aloud into the silence of the room, "Hey, Siri. Call Dr. Grace."

Mom answered on the second ring, and she sounded both confused and worried. "Yuri? Is everything okay, sweetheart? Why are you calling me from upstairs?"

"Mom, it's me," I said. "Yuri's sleeping. Everything's pretty much as you'd expect, but... can you come up, please? I need your help with something important."

"What is it?" she asked.

"I'll show you in a minute. Please, just come up. I don’t want to tell you over the phone.”

That last sentence came out weird, like a line from a badly-scripted TV show, but I didn’t waste brainpower stressing over it. I had a feeling I’d need to save my mental energy to deal with whatever I was about to learn about the passports and Yuri’s folder full of mystery papers.

"Okay," Mom said. "Hang on. I'll be right there."

[vizthedatum]

Decisions to protect myself

More and more, I am giving myself permission (it was always within my power) to protect myself.

I couldn't when I was growing up with my mom - not even to the police who showed up when she physically abused me so badly when I was six - I didn't want them to take me away - I lied - I kept lying my whole life - I knew she loved me but I also knew what she was doing was wrong - and I thought I was wrong and that I deserved it. I thought I deserved it all. I deeply thought I was stupid and if I tried harder, I wouldn't be such a stupid child. Nothing I did in my life made them think I wasn't ruining my life. They'd mock me telling me how I wouldn't get into community college... and I fucking made it into an Ivy League (I made it broken and shattered but regardless). And now, now that I'm out as trans and completely redefining my life... they think I've lost it.

--

That's it, right?

The moment I show who I am... when it goes against what you wanted me to be, that's when you think I've lost it.

After all the excuses and the effort I put into ALL of you - the moment that I need support... real support, you leave.

I was completely discarded by my spouse and their entire family - FAMILY who I considered my own. They did nothing to help me. My MIL, who I loved, .... she didn't get it. I had to cut off ties with her because she didn't understand why I was calling it domestic violence. I knew she would side with her child so I let her go.

--

What did it look like from the outside??

It's so easy to look at me like I'm crazy, I guess. I'm unreliable when I'm being gaslit and controlled. When I'm pleading with myself that they're not really doing anything wrong. When I only showcase the good and not the bad. See me crying - trying to reason with my abuser who I loved - listen to them explain how crazy and unreasonable I am....

I went to therapy for years. I maintained my friendships. I have documented how physically ill I was - in my medical chart. I was having severe flares. I was having symptoms I couldn't explain. I'd go nonverbal. Sometimes my body would just give up.

I fought for our relationship to the best of my ability until I realized I was in serious danger.

They did not fight for us - they just thought they were right.

They had a six-figure job, kept me trapped within our home due to fear of covid, berated me, denied how serious the emotional abuse was, didn't work on repairing our relationship, did NOT seek therapy or any external help, refused to come up with solutions with me, imposed ultimatums, convinced their ex (babe, you're not a great mental health advocate if you're going around telling people I'm having a psychotic breakdown - bc even if I were, that's ableist! You literally could have done the noble thing and refused to interact with me - but you didn't - you cruelly defended your ex because you sided with them) that I'm making shit up, tried to get me to block my lovers (and they knew about each and every one of them - I did not keep shit from them) despite not blocking their exes, convinced me systematically to let go of friendships and isolate myself, undermined my sense of worth, REFUSED TO GET HELP FOR OUR MOUSE INFESTATION THAT WAS WORSE THAN OUR RISK FOR COVID OMFG WTF IS WRONG WITH YOU, tried to take my meds away, judged me for being so ill I couldn't do things, threw tantrums when I needed my own space, probably called me abusive when I left food in the sink which I tried so hard not to do (it only happened bc I needed to stage how I did dishes (Oh yeah, I did dishes most of the time because they couldn't - did y'all know that? Did y'all know how much household coordination I did while being chronically ill and in pain? They hated asking for help so I had to either beg them to help me when I was physically weak, pay for people to help, plead/beg for them to allow people to help us, or do it myself) because of my fatigue and illness you ableist dumb motherfucker... and more. And the last time we had sex, it was rape. It undoubtedly was. You had such little empathy for me that you can't even tell. You made my life miserable because I went to MN and left you alone because I had to go help my brother - something you knew I would do in a heartbeat. You denied how badly you were hurting so you hurt me instead. You hurt your best friend and spouse who LOVED YOU SO FUCKING MUCH. Look at me now - does it look like I'm having a breakdown? Is my rage all a joke to you? You think I'm insane because you don't think I'm allowed to have my valid feelings? Does it make you happy to know that you destroyed your relationship with your autistic, trans, brown, traumatized spouse who loved you so much? Do you acknowledge that I'm finally able to live my life? I can move more - look at how different I look - my inflammation is down - and I do not care if I am putting myself at covid-risk (I'm vaccinated and more knowledgeable about my risk because I'm a fucking epidemiologist who knows that my social needs are just as important than preventing infection). Do I need to spell it out for you? I tried so hard to diagnose what was going wrong with my life... it was you (and my mom and all my trauma), but acutely, it was you.

And if you had worked on yourself and us - I would have stayed with you forever.

I really hope the divorce gets finalized this year.

Next time, I'm having a prenup, a huge wedding, couple's therapy wayyyy before we get married, an insistence on inner work for the both of us (this is a requirement for all relationships from here on out), and more.

I deserve the fucking world, and I hate that you all almost had me believing that I did not.

[traumasurvivorshelpingsurvivors]

Tw for pretty general abuse talk , gaslighting , self doubt (if I missed any tws I'm sorry in advance)

So, between the ages of 5-15, my mom was considerably abusive towards me in a number of ways, because of her own trauma and untreated mental illness. On top of that she was very absent from my life during everything else I went through, and was often the reason that other abusers would be let into my life.

For the past 2 years or so, I've been working on acknowledging this abuse, due to years and years of my family's gaslighting and belittling my feelings about it all. In August, I moved back in with my mom after a year and a half living with my dad and stepmom, due to her healing enough to see me as an equal, and the fact I became aware of my stepmom's abusive behavior and couldn't handle it anymore. Life has been better than ever for me since I moved back.

She's supportive, and way way way less overbearing and intense. Many members of my system have been able to kindle a relationship with her much like a mother and child SHOULD have, and it started getting really fucking hard to conceptualize that it ever wasn't this way. It's almost like my brain was just waiting for her to be stable enough to latch entirely onto the good, and bury the bad deep down within other alters. I don't know if this is a result of the gaslighting, but even all the processing I had done at my dad's feels non-existent, let alone the trauma itself I had been trying to process. Everything has just been fine forever, suddenly. Which would be great, if I wasnt still having cptsd symptoms, and wasn't still dealing with the disproportionately strong emotions of my alters. I'm just always stuck invalidating my own pain, due to our now relationship, and can't seem to find it in me to say she's an abusive person or would ever do that stuff to me. I'm always normalizing it so it doesn't feel like trauma anymore, too

I just can't seem to find a middle ground, where I'm able to listen to my alters when they say my mom in the past was abusive, and at the same time continue to forgive my mom in the present. I don't know if this is something I can do anything about without therapy, but it's immensely hindering any progress I'm making within my own system and with my (not specialized) therapist, so if you have any advice or just, consolation of normalcy, that would be great

- The Horizon

Hi The Horizon,

I'm sorry about what y'all have been through.

It can be hard to reconcile how to feel about our abusers, especially when they're someone we love or is supposed to protect us. It's normal and okay to have mixed feelings towards your mom.

I also just want to say that while your mom's trauma and undiagnosed mental illness may have influenced her abuse towards you, abuse is ultimately a choice one makes independent of other factors. The fact that trauma and mental illness don't necessarily make someone abusive goes to show that being abusive doesn't really have to do with either of those things. There is no excuse for abuse, and there's no excuse for being mistreated.

The gaslighting could definitely be a factor, and I think part of it may also be that she is your mom, and so part of you may be yearning for that affection so desperately as to try and dismiss the history of abuse. I think therapy can help you and your system work on figuring out how to reconcile the present situation with what has happened. Please know that however you feel about your mom is valid.

I think it's also worth considering the fact that you don't have to forgive your mom, and you can still heal and/or maintain a healthy relationship with her.

Please know that what happened is worth acknowledging, the pain and trauma y'all carry is worth acknowledging, and you are a valid survivor.

I hope I could help. Please let us know if y'all need anything.

-Bun

[5sosxqueen]

Ashton Sick From Stress

< Part 1 , < Part 2 , ~Part 3~

Okay, two as promised. Sorry about that.

Warnings: graphic depictions of illness, vomiting, mild scat, hospital

Written in 2018

Published (Wattpad) - Feb 05, 2018

Word Count: 1239

Updates are every Tuesday and Thursday

Also Available on Wattpad and AO3!!!

Part 3:

Michael's POV:

     The car ride to the hospital was a living for poor Ashton. He was sick the whole way there and he had another accident. He was constantly mumbling that he was sorry. All of us we're trying to tell him it was ok, but he didn't seem to listen. Luke reached over and felt his forehead, but it wasn't too bad.

     Once we got to the hospital we were given a clipboard full of paperwork, told us to give it to them when it was finished, and sit down and wait for the doctor. I was the one working on the paperwork while Luke helps get Ashton changed and Calum cleaned the bucket. I, of course didn't know everything about Ash's medical history so I had to wait for them to return. Luke handed Ash a sickness bag and gave Matt the bucket while Ashton sat down with a long sigh. He leaned his head back against the wall with his eyes closed. "Ash, I'm sorry, but I need you to answer a couple of questions that are on here for me." He lifted his head off the wall and looked down at the paper.

     "My social is 142-01-2895. (AN: that's a completely made up social... So don't think anything of it.) Just put traveling for the address. Hold on..." He reached up and rubbed his eyes. I could tell he wasn't all here mentally. I don't blame him either. He leaned his head back against a wall again and took deep breaths trying fight the latest wave of nausea. I doubt it was working because he opened the bag. He suddenly let out a mix between a gag and a wretch and stood up. He sped walked to the bathroom and as he opened the door I saw him jolt forward with an unproductive heave and run.

     "Damn! I've been abandoned...." I muttered and looked over to Calum.

     "Maybe I can help with this. How much do you have left?" Luke stood up and walked over and took Ash's previous seat. We managed to finish the paperwork and Luke handed it back over to the front desk.

     "I'll go check on him." He stated before heading over to the bathroom.

Calum's POV:

     As soon as I walked in the bathroom I heard Ashton wretching along with other sounds. I sighed and walked over to the large stall, after coming to the conclusion he was in there. "Bud, can I come in?"

     "C-c-can't un- *wretch* lock the d-door. Can't g-get up." I slowly made my way under the stall door. I got up and saw Ash still hadn't been able to get anything up, as he was practically empty, but stomachs tend to toy with us while we are sick, so you never know. He heaved heavily and I heard the crinkling of the bag and grimaced. He vomited one time before he started dry heaving, only bringing up bile.

     "I think you're empty Ash." I put my hand on it back and he shook his head.

     "D-don't th-th-think so... I still-ll feel it." He was left dry heaving for around 10 minutes before his stomach settled. I took the bag from him and let him clean him self up. He went to get up, but his body was so weak, I had to help him out to the waiting room again. No sooner had we sat back down his name was called. He groaned loudly in annoyance as he got back up, with mine and Michael's help. We were brought to a room and I sat him down on a chair. His breathing had sped up again and he reached for the bag. I quickly handed it to him and he wretched loudly, just as the doctor walked in.

     "Ah, so I don't have to fully question why you're here then." The doctor said upon seeing his patient try to vomit. "How long has this been going on? What are his other symptoms?" He asked.

     "About two hours for the vomiting. He's had diarrhea for the same amount of time. This morning he stated that he was achy. He later told me that he had shortness of breath at some point. I brought him back to our hotel room after he fell over. He told me he had a sudden migraine and he decided, after taking some meds to take a nap. After a few hours of him being asleep, he woke up and vomited onto the bed and you see where that led us." Michael spat out. Ashton managed to get a bit more up and leaned his head on my shoulder.

     "I see... Well Ashton I'm going to need to check your vitals and some over things. Seeing as how you have been diarrhea as well as the vomiting, I will have to put you on an iv." Ashton nodded sleepily. "Ok Aston I'm going to need you to sit up for me. I know you're tired and I'm sorry." Ash sat up and the doctor put the thermometer under his tongue. When it beeped he looked at it. "100 on the dot, not too bad, but that is a mild fever. Ok lift your arm for me."Ash lifted his arm and he had a blood pressure cuff placed onto it. The doctor put a finger heart monitor on his finger and the doctor looked puzzled. "Hmmmm. Elevated heart rate." He wrote down the information on a pad. "I'll be back with your iv." He left and we all looked at Ashton, who was fast asleep against my shoulder.

     After 2 minutes the doctor reentered the room with the iv in his hands. He placed it on the hook plastered on the wall above us and I gently shook Ashton awake. The doctor hooked him up to it and gave him medicine for the nausea and diarrhea. After the iv finished the doctor took Ashton for a couple tests and we had to go back into the waiting room. Soon enough we we're called back and they we're in the room we had been in before.

    "So I have the results from Ashtons tests." We looked at in a 'well keep going' sort of way. He chuckled. "It's stress. He explained to me about your band and travels and how you guys never get a break. He said that your manager is here. Is that true?" We nodded and Matt stepped forward.

     "You need to find some way to ease up on these boys, or else this will happen again. It could get worse too. You need to be careful." The doctor explained to Matt. He nodded and walked out the the room to call management. "Hopefully that helps you guys out." The doctor smiled and we all returned the smiles. "You are free to go. I have prescribed Ashton with some medicine. He will need to take both of them every 4 hours." We nodded and gathered Ashton up and led him to the car.

     "I'm there manager." He said as he took another step forward and shook his hand.

     Matt came back and apologized for his and managements actions. He informed us that we will have two weeks off to rest and we all got excited. Ashton was asleep so he didn't hear, but he was excited when we told him. It took a couple days before he felt 100% again. Management was true to there word and they eased up a touch on us.