#makes recovery for myself feel scarier

[harrylights]

.

[notmazikeen]

The Villain | Choso Kamo

 ── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──

‧₊˚✧[chapter 6]✧˚₊‧     

 ── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──

Choso was a few feet away from Mazikeen. Glaring down at her. The red slits and eyes of his mask were a menacing red. They emitted a faint red glow, making him that much scarier.

Choso couldn't help but stare at her. He wanted to tend to her wound, but he was The Red Death. He couldn't just pull his sweetheart persona out of his ass to take care of a girl who is probably pissing her pants in fear.

He growled to himself. 'I put us in a bad spot. I didn't mean for her to hurt herself...' He reached out his hand. The knife he conjured of blood retracting from his wrist.

Mazikeen was trembling in fear. The sudden movement made her react... She jabbed her knife into the man's arm. Choso growled at the sudden stinging.

She now held her wounded arm with her other arm. Whining in pain and fear. "You're feisty aren't you?" Choso teased her. Her knife was pulled from his arm and he closed it. Holding it out in his palm, he reached out his hand again.

He was very tolerant of pain, and his blood powers aided significantly in his recovery.

"What do you want from me!" Mazikeen snarled. Her eyes narrowed and she gritted her teeth.

"Take your pitiful knife." His voice was cold, colder than Mount Everest. He had to put his villain persona first, the sweet girl he was obsessed with could not know his identity. Not yet.

Mazikeen reached her hand out sharply and grabbed the knife. She never took her eyes off the rather large man.

Choso didn't know what to do. His feelings were mixed. He felt lust, anger, frustration, and disappointment. He wanted to pin her against the wall and take in her sweet scent, but he was disappointed in her. How did she let him catch her so easily. How could she be so oblivious.

There was a moment of silence. A few minutes of silence. They stared at each other, their minds racing.

Mazikeen thought these were her final moments and Choso... Choso wanted to take her home and fulfill his fantasies.

She looked beside him. Her eyes darting back between him and the alleyway back to the street. Mazikeen gripped her knife tightly and took off. Choso just stared blankly at her. Mazikeen looked behind her as she ran. Her vision cloudy, her adrenaline kicking back in. She ran for her life.

In a sudden swift movement Choso was infront of the alleyway. He shifted a little too late and Mazikeen couldn't stop in time. She basically tackled the man.

Choso fell backwards onto the pavement and heaved out, she someone knocked the breath out of him. Mazikeen screamed as she realized she was now on top of THE Red Death. Choso widened his eyes and threw his hand across her mouth. His other arm wrapping itself around her waist to hold her still.

"If you don't shut the fuck up, princess, I will end up killing you right here." He snarled. Choso was furious. First she tackled him, and now she was going to alert someone he was there.

He laid his head against the pavement and sighed loudly. He raised his head up again to look at her. "If I take my hand off your mouth do you promise not to scream?" Choso heaved out.

Mazikeen quickly shook her head, fear stricken in her eyes. Choso removed his hand slowly. Mazikeen's breathing was erratic. "P-Please... Let me go..." She whined out.

Choso's lips formed a smirk. "Why? You're a pretty girl Mazikeen. I could just keep you all to myself." His tone was cold again, but he was serious. He wanted her all to himself.

"My boyfriend will kill you." She mumbled out. 'Fuck this could end up bad. Whoever I say he's going to go after..." Choso let go of her waist and pushed her off himself. They both stood to their feet immediately. Mazikeen in a defensive position, and Choso standing menacing.

"Who's your boyfriend, huh?" He scoffed. He stalked her constantly, there's no way he missed her having a recent boyfriend.

"U-Um..." She bit her lip and darted her eyes around. Choso reached his hand out quickly and wrapped it around her neck. Grabbing her chin and pulling it upwards. "Yea, that's what I thought." He teased.

She strained against his hand. It kept her body in place, he was unbelievably strong. It made her anxious. "C-Choso! He's my boyfriend and he will kick your ass!!" She growled at him. Fury in her eyes now. She felt somewhat powerful, as if her 'boyfriend' would come to save her.

His eyes widened and he just stared at her. A smirk forming on his face. 'I'll be your boyfriend soon sweetheart.' Just the thought of her becoming his was knee wearing. Heat rushed to his cheeks and... His lower abdomen.

A raging boner began to form. She clearly had no idea it was her so called boyfriend holding her still. It made him incredibly horny. He wanted Mazikeen, he wanted her right now. He wanted to take his mask off and show himself.

Mazikeen began to cower in his palm. She couldn't move her eyes from his. This was it. Her so called boyfriend and her were going to die tonight.

"Oh yea? Choso is your boyfriend?" He drew his body closer to hers. Inches away from her face now.

Mazikeen nodded her head and tried to remove herself from his grip. "Yes! N-Now let me go or else!" She mumbled. Her words barely making it out of her mouth.

Choso groaned under his breath. He knew the best option was to let her go and show himself as his non villain character. He leaned into her ear and whispered, "If I let you go, you will not speak of this. You will not mention me. You will keep your pretty little mouth closed or I will end up killing you." His breath was hot under his mask.

It gave Mazikeen goosebumps, somehow she felt aroused. The fear, the pain she felt, and his erotic voice whispering in her ear. "I promise..." She mumbled out.

"Good girl." He growled into her ear. "I'll be watching to make sure you don't out me." His mask made a mechanical noise and it disappeared over his mouth. He gave her a small kiss on the neck before covering his mouth again.

Mazikeen melted into his hand that was holding her. She quickly gathered herself and widened her eyes. Within a blink of an eye The Red Death was gone.

She stood there in shock. "Did he just kiss me..." She gasped. She shook her head and looked around. 'What the fuck just happened?'

A sudden stinging pain brought her attention back to her arm, "Fuck I have to get home..." She winced at the disgusting display.

__________

Mazikeen was finally off lockdown. The mark Choso gave her disappeared, and her parents decided she was safe now. She explained to her parents that the cut was from her trying to rearrange her room and something fell off her bookshelf, slicing her arm open.

They barely believed the story but Mazikeen wouldn't budge. She was all stitched up now, and she wasn't on lockdown anymore so she was happy.

She sat up in her seat. "Taiga can we please go drink somewhere?" Mazikeen pulled off her seatbelt and turned to her best friend. Her eyes big with a pouty expression. "Pleaseeeeeeeee!" She begged. Taiga palmed her face and smirked. "OMG! Fine. We got invited to another party at that house we went to a while ago." Taiga giggled at her friend's puppy dog face.

Mazikeen shot up her seat even more, "YAY!!!" She clapped her hands excitedly and squealed. Taiga rolled her eyes and smiled. "Let's go get ready at your house. I already have my clothes and shit in the back seat, I knew you were gonna want to go out." She smirked.

Mazikeen smirked back at her, "This is why I love you! Now can we hurry up and go inside to eat! I'm hungry and I want to go get ready!! Maybe I'll see Choso again!!" She exclaimed. She was beyond excited to drink and smoke again, and to see her mystery man.

__________

The girls unbuckled their seatbelts and Mazikeen basically jumped out of the car. She was wearing a silky white dress, with a very low neckline, and dangerously short. There was a slit on the front of the dress on her right leg. It just barely showed her shark tattoo.

The tattoo she was currently hiding from her parents. It was scandalously placed, very high up on her thigh, almost touching her hip.

She wore white sparkly heels and her hair was curled. She looked nothing short of hot. "I know Choso will be here again. He just has to be!" She whispered to her best friend. Taiga smiled and rolled her eyes playfully.

"I'm sure he will be. Everyone is here. This party is bigger than the last one they had." Taiga scoffed. "How is that even possible?!" Mazikeen squeaked out.

"No idea! Now let's put our bad bitch faces on and go get fucked up!" Taiga grabbed her friend's arm and pulled her towards the pathway to the house.

Mazikeen smiled at her and followed as her friend tugged her along. She stood up straight once they got to the door. Taking a breath in and pushing the door open.

The girls smirked at each other. They were greeted by loud music. 'One of the girls By The Weeknd' began playing as they entered the doorway. It was almost perfect.

A few people turned to the door and watched as the attractive girls strutted their way into the party. A man in a white button up caught her eye.

He was stunning. His shirt was unbuttoned all the way, rolled up to his elbows. He was wearing black baggy jeans and white sneakers.

It was him.

She looked him up and down and gave him and wink before looking back at Taiga. "Let's find some drinks?" Mazikeen smirked at her.

She nodded and they made their way to the kitchen. A blonde haired man was making people shots and drinks. He was extremely attractive as well. Taiga instantly walked up to him and smiled, "Hey Niko! Can we have some shots baby?" Taiga's voice was enticing.

Niko smirked at her, "Of course, two shots coming up for the two hottest girls." Apparently him and Taiga hooked up at the last party. Which was unbeknownst to Mazikeen until they got into the car earlier.

Taiga was making conversation with him, it slowly fading out of Mazikeen's mind as she was focused on him.

Choso sent her a smile. He looked her up and down and winked before walking towards a hallway. Mazikeen rolled her eyes at him and snapped back to Taiga.

"Here you go girl!" Taiga reached her hand out to Mazikeen with a rather large shot of vodka.

Mazikeen widened her eyes and furrowed her brows. "Um Niko..? What kinda shot is this?" She giggled. "You two were late. Trying to catch y'all up is all!" He chuckled and handed Taiga her shot.

Mazikeen clinked her glass with her friend's and they both gulped them down. Mazikeen shook her head and groaned. "This is terrible." The three of them giggled and Niko grabbed Taiga's waist slowly. "Come on." He whispered.

"Come find me later?" Taiga smirked. Mazikeen nodded and made herself another shot. She quickly shot it back and looked around the room. Choso was nowhere to be found.

She rolled her eyes and found some people to dance with. She was a little tipsy, dancing sleazily against another man.

Choso stood in the hallway and glared at her. He was furious. How was his girl grinding on another man's dick? He quickly made his way to her and the other man quickly moved out of the way. Choso was menacing and nobody fucked with him.

"Your ass is showing." His tone snarky. Mazikeen stood up straight and turned around to glare at him. "And?" She shot back. Choso looked her up and down and smirked at her. "Watch your attitude, princess."

Mazikeen growled at him and turned to walk away, before she took a step she looked back at him. "Or what? You gonna fix it pretty boy?" Mazikeen sounded seductive, it must've been the alcohol.

Choso took a step towards her and grabbed her waist. Pushing her ass into his crotch. He leaned his head to her ear and whispered, "Don't tempt me Mazikeen." She slumped into his chest and bit her lip. He was already hard, and she turned her head and looked at him. "As if you could ever take me, Choso." She grinded against his dick before pulling away. "Don't be a tease pretty girl." He groaned.

She shrugged her shoulders and walked away. Trying to find the bathroom, she was flustered. Hell Choso was too. She eventually came to the bathroom and as she was about to shut the door a hand held it open.

Choso pushed the door open and pushed it closed behind him. He followed her to the bathroom, he needed more of her. He needed all of her. He locked the latch before leaning against the wall.

"Where do you think you're going?" He scoffed.

Mazikeen growled and rolled her eyes. "Get out Choso!" She palmed her face and turned to the mirror before checking her makeup. Mazikeen stopped and sniffed a few times. "Is there weed in here?!" She squealed.

"Yes. It's mine, but you can't smoke it." He smirked. He reached for the top cabinet before pulling out a bag. It had weed, blunts, a lighter, and a grinder.

He grabbed a blunt and his lighter before setting it on the counter. "Wait do you live here?" She looked at him through the mirror. Her brows furrowed. "Yea?" Choso chuckled.

"So why can't I smoke?" She whined. Choso moved behind her. Glaring at her in the mirror. She raised her brow and turned around to face him. He was inches away from her face. "Kiss me first princess." His voice sounded strained. He was begging for this kiss.

Mazikeen looked at his lips, "Oh really?" She mumbled. Choso nodded. "What if I don't want to-" She was cut off. Choso grabbed the back of her head and pushed his lips against hers hungrily.

Mazikeen melted into his soft lips, moaning at his touch. Choso grabbed her waist and pulled her into his body. His dick was throbbing at her touch. Mazikeen pulled away from the kiss and looked down at his erection. 'Fuck he's big...' She bit her lip and looked back up at him.

His eyes were filled with lust. He wanted to taste her again. Mazikeen grabbed his face and pulled him back to her lips.

Choso parted his lips slowly and licked the crease of Mazikeen's. She opened her mouth to let his tongue wander.

A quiet moan came from Choso, he grabbed the girls head and pushed his lips harder into hers. Pushing his tongue farther into her mouth. Mazikeen swirled her tongue around his.

In a swift movement Choso picked her up by her hips and placed her on the counter, not breaking the contact between their lips. Mazikeen let her hands slide down his neck and to his muscular bare chest.

Choso broke the kiss, they were both breathless. He looked down at her, his mouth covered in her spit. He grabbed her ass and pulled her into his crotch.

Mazikeen moaned at the sudden friction. "I'm not going to fuck you that easily..." She mumbled. Choso looked cold, his body was filled with lust but he looked almost expressionless. "Shut up and kiss me." He groaned. Choso leaned back down to her lips and smashed against them.

His movements filled with hunger. Mazikeen wanted nothing more than to fuck this masterpiece of a man, but she had to play it cool.

She trailed her hand down to his waistband. Fiddling with his zipper. Choso grabbed her hand quickly and threw it behind her back. He pulled his lips away and mumbled, "Not my turn yet.."

Mazikeen pulled her head away from his. Staring up at him, her eyes basically screaming 'Fuck me!!!'

Choso let her hand go and placed his hand on her thigh, massaging the innermost part of it. She bit her lip and looked away from him. Choso growled and used his free hand to grab her chin.

"Look at me princess. My fingers aren't even fucking your pussy yet." He whispered to her. Mazikeen clenched her legs around his hand.

"Yes sir." She mumbled out between a moan.

[honeysuckle-venom]

Warnings for: discussion of dieting/intentional weight loss, medical issues, eating disorders, and related topics

Here's the thing. On a general level, I don't believe in dieting. I think it's bad for you, the science shows it almost never works, it makes people miserable, it usually comes from an unhealthy place, and it encourages unhealthy behaviors. And. At the same time. I have a rare disease that could potentially have very dangerous complications if untreated/if it progresses, and it seems to be progressing. And genuine research has shown a significant correlation between developing hepatic adenomas/having more adenomas/having more growth in your adenomas and "obesity." Now, there are links between lots of things and "obesity" and often not nearly enough research is done into WHY and whether any correlations actually have anything to do with causality. And I don't fully know why obesity and hepatic adenomas are correlated, I have to talk to my hepatologist about it, though from what my dad found in his research he suspects it's a combination of adipose tissue producing more estrogen and potentially other metabolic effects (more research/answers are needed there). If someone says "being fat makes you unhealthy in x way" I always want to know the underlying mechanisms there, because it's never that simple. But the point is that it does look like, in this case, hepatic adenomas and obesity are at the very least significantly correlated.

There are not a lot of treatment options for hepatic adenomas. The first step is always going off any hormonal birth control, which I did a year ago. If things shrink, great, you can keep monitoring and hope that things stay shrinking or at least stable and probably leave it at that. If, however, things continue to grow, well that becomes concerning, because the larger the tumors are the more risk there is of them rupturing or becoming cancerous. If your tumors are larger than 5cm, like mine, and not shrinking or goodness forbid growing then just continuing to monitor may not be a safe long term solution. So you'll have to look at other treatment options, none of which are great.

The next step in trying to get them to shrink after stopping birth control is almost always weight loss. Because the only other options are a) transarterial embolization (a very gross procedure I looked up that I'm terrified of having to do in which blood flow is cut off from the tumors), b) ablation (which isn't recommended for tumors larger than 3cm which mine are), c) liver resection (which I'm pretty sure I'm not a candidate for because I have too many large tumors in too many places, and anyway is a very scary and risky surgery with months of recovery) and finally d) liver transplant (an ever scarier and riskier surgery with significant risks of mortality). And as much as I don't believe in or want to diet, the other options are worse.

Which means that it is very likely that in a few weeks, when my therapist gets back from vacation, I will be seriously attempting to lose weight for the first time since I was an anorexic teenager. And I don't want to, I so don't want to, but I suspect it's going to be the best choice out of a group of bad ones. But I'm so scared. I'm already having crazy relapse thoughts, I'm already struggling with horrible OCD food research spirals and calorie counting and thinking about food for hours and hours and hours each day. And it sucks. My hope is that it will actually get slightly better if I genuinely try to lose weight with my therapist and use a detailed meal plan, because then it will at least be set in stone and not just me panicking indecisively about everything. It'll be predetermined in therapy, so I won't have to spend hours thinking about it on my own. But I don't know, it still feels very risky for my mental health. I know how easy it is for me to obsessively count and calculate everything and how much that sucks and how much I hate it even as I can't stop myself. And I'm just. I'm just so stressed about the whole thing. Also like, it almost feels like it would be a slight betrayal of my values, because I really don't believe in dieting and I hate diet culture and love the anti-diet and fat acceptance movements. But at the same time I wouldn't be doing it to look better or whatever, I'd be doing it with the very specific goal of hopefully shrinking my tumors. And if I do go down this path and it turns out that the main reason obesity and hepatic adenomas are correlated is indeed higher estrogen in fatty tissue I'm going to talk to my doctors about monitoring my estrogen levels, so that I'm looking at the underlying cause and trying to focus on that number instead of just the number on the scale. But idk. This whole thing just. It just sucks and it's scary and I'm in awful OCD hell and I really wish my therapist wasn't away for the next week and a half.

[berry-lite]

ED recovery rant below

Why is it that as soon as I am trying to eat more, I suddenly eat less? I feel like I can't eat more unless I binge. I'm not in control of my eating anymore. I thought I was in control when I wasn't trying to get better but I know now that I wasn't. I was never in control. This fucking disorder has been in control this whole time and I can't stop it. I don't know how to do this. Especially when I am so fucking scared that I have cancer. Of course I'd rather focus on food and not eating. I'm so scared I'll stay this weight forever or I'll gain all the weight back. I can't do that again. Im scared that I'll die and end up being fat my whole life. I'm scared that I'm going to have to lose my hair and I'll look so horrific because I'm so fat. I'm scared that I'll have fucking cancer and no one will look at me and see how sick I am until I'm skinny. I'm scared I did this to myself by being obese. I'm just so fucking scared of everything.

Tomorrow I'm telling my psychiatrist about my ED. She's probably going to take away my ADHD meds. I'm so scared because I don't want to get better. I don't want her to make me get better. But I know she will and I know I have to at least try. I can't handle how upset I'm making my bf. I have to try. But every bone in my body is fighting against it. I've almost cancelled my appointment with her so many times.

Why is telling my psychiatrist about my ED and having to recover scarier than meeting with an oncologist about my treatment options? Why is this so fucking hard?

[fedzkun]

anon who couldn't stop thinking about your fics here, it was both actually! i really like mind control esque fics and lullabies/claim+indisputable both scratched my brain in different ways.

in lullabies' case, you got a lot across in what was a pretty short word count, especially in the second fic. you added just enough emphasis in the moments you wrote that it was easy for me to fill in the blanks for the parts you didn't write. it was really masterful writing to me. i couldn't stop thinking about the possibilities and what izuku experienced before he was rescued for him to turn out that way.

in indisputable's case, a lot of the moments felt sus to me while reading, but i didn't put all the pieces together until the very end. the ending really surprised me, but at the same time i felt like i should have seen it coming. i read the whole thing again afterwards and was really amazed by all the foreshadowing. for every detail i noticed there was another one i didn't think twice about haha. and rereading it while putting myself in izuku's shoes really messed me up but in the best way. the whole thing is definitely my favorite take on his dynamic with afo.

Aha, I see!

Yeah, in lullabies above, which was my first bnha fic, I think I was mainly getting a feel of things and a lot of my angst style carried over from previous fandoms. I think it’s also just scarier overall to let readers imagine what horrors Izuku went through, and make it look like recovery for him is an impossible task. I really want to update that series soon. Fun fact, but since it was my first, I’ve only watched until S4 that time. Haven’t read the manga yet then, so reconciling then and now should be fun.

On the other hand, Claim+Indisputable were brain dumps when the New Order Quirk came out, so it was angst directly in concert with the manga.

Thank you! I appreciate your patronage of my wares! 💕💕💕

[topazadine]

On making your mental illness your entire identity

I've noticed a really disturbing trend where people turn a mental illness into their entire online persona. I noticed it a lot with Dissociative Identity Disorder (DID), which is a very real and very unglamorous disorder rooted in deep, catastrophic trauma.

As someone who has been in recovery for bipolar for over a decade now, I'm telling you that this is a terrible idea that will just keep you stuck.

(Rest under cut to spare your dash lol)

It's good, honorable even, to be open about your mental illness, but it has to be productive. When I talk about bipolar disorder or my C-PTSD and its attendant horrors, it's not to say it's so uwu quirky like the TikTok girlies, but to share resources and get helpful support from others - not just sympathy or attention.

This cultivates a healing mentality amongst myself and others: we're trying to get help and build our coping skills. Why? Because mental illness sucks, and if you wallow in it, that mental illness makes you suck.

Mental illness isn't fun. It's not something that makes you want to dress up and dance around for attention. It eats away at your life, takes away your joy, makes you struggle to do even basic things like cleaning your house or staying focused on tasks.

More than that, mental illness can make you bitter. "Why me? What did I do to deserve this? Am I just a bad person, born wrong?"

If it's C-PTSD, you get angry: "Someone else did this to me. It's their fault. Why do I have to clean up their mess? They should have to fix this!"

Unfortunately, it is your responsibility. You have to manage it, cope with it, get help for it to the best of your ability and funding. You can run from it for a while if you want to, pretend it's not a big deal, or even glamorize it to make it seem powerful - or to make you seem like a poor little waif who needs everyone's attention.

But it will catch up to you, and the fall will be even harder if you've turned your mental illness into a load-bearing aspect of your identity. Suddenly you don't want to get better, because there's nothing else to you.

Fixing the illness will mean you need to develop something else to make your "thing," so you cling to it. Treatment is scary, but losing your entire persona is even scarier. This throws you into a spiral where you get worse and worse, refusing to get help so you don't have to rebuild your life from the ground up. And, sadly, I suspect that this could literally kill people, if it hasn't already.

I am not at all saying that you need to be ashamed of your mental illness or hide it. In fact, hiding your illness is also bad, because you won't want to seek help if you're too embarrassed to admit what's wrong.

Being mentally ill doesn't automatically make you a bad person, and you shouldn't feel guilty about it. But you also shouldn't turn your mental illness into a comfort object and a shield that veils all the other important parts of you. It should never be used as an excuse for bad behavior or a substitute for a real personality.

I have found that thinking of my mental illness in the same vein as chronic physical illness ensures that I don't think of it as some magical condition that elevates me beyond "normies." No one gets online and turns diabetes into their schtick. No one walks up to strangers and introduces themselves as having liver disease. People may say that their Hashimoto's disease is kicking their ass today, but they don't use it as an excuse to be a dick to other people (at least I have never seen that).

You need to do the same thing with your mental illness. In many ways, it is who you are - bipolar disorder, for example, changes your brain chemistry and even puts you at risk of certain organic diseases - but it is not all you are.

Instead of making social media accounts where you post nothing but your mental illness, make an account about something you chose about yourself, whether that is cosplay or a hobby or a special interest. Yes, that may not get as much attention as the wildness of mental illness, but it won't get you stuck.

And don't get addicted to the attention you get from disorderposting. All those strangers who like your posts don't really care about you; worse, some of them don't want you to get better because you are just content to them, and when your content becomes more "normal," they'll drop you without a second thought.

You'll destroy yourself for a few dopamine hits from seeing line go up, and is that really worthwhile? Is that fair to you - to your story and your overall life? No. It's not.

You deserve better than that, and you deserve to want better than that. So if you're thinking of making a social media account dedicated entirely to whatever mental illness you have - don't. Please.

[florilegiumofblips]

This past year I spent a lot of time learning how to be honest with myself. I've spent a good portion of my life trying to be the Poster Girl for Everything Always. I can't always pinpoint what it's rooted in, but I have a long history of shaming myself relentlessly when I'm not meeting up to some imaginary but ever-pressing standard of perfection. I think this is partly why I always have a project going. I have to make sure I'm earning my figurative keep. I'm worthy! I'm valuable!

(I'm in recovery.)

This shaming includes (but is not limited to) when I have completely human emotions and reactions to life. Instead of meeting whatever I find with some semblance of kindness and honesty, some, hey this is totally human and normal, I desperately shove it down and berate myself if it has any scent of imperfection. This won't do, put it away, nobody wants to see that. So, I've spent time gathering up the courage to let my outsides match my insides, so to speak, to have loving permission for myself to be whatever mess I need to be in order to feel like I can live with some kind of integrity, wherever I am. For the sake of being genuinely loved. What better thing is there than to be honestly loved for who you honestly are?

I don't mean this in the fake-real sense that's often flaunted around on the internet, like, "Here's what I look like without under-eye concealer! Look how vulnerable I am!" I mean it in a much heavier sense, like, hey I feel like I might be failing at marriage and I'm scared. Because one part of this mess I had been lugging around inside had to do with my marriage. I had taken what were completely normal feelings and pathologized them; I had used them to turn against myself and tell myself I was some kind of failure. I let them fester for so long that if I kept it going, I'd guess it could've destroyed me, or my marriage.

So, this year I found the courage to look my husband in the eye and tell him all of the things I had been feeling but pushing away, or covering up, or talking around, with the unfortunately misled hope that if I ignored them for long enough, or dressed them up enough in the right lighting, I wouldn't have to deal with them. Things like,

Sometimes, I think I got married too young.

Sometimes, I think I squelched concerns about you that I shouldn't have, back when we were dating.

Sometimes, I wonder what my life would be like if I had given myself the chance to explore more relationships.

Sometimes, I want out of the box we've closed ourselves into.

Sometimes, I feel a panicked suffocation at how we are parents now, how we made a life together and how none of this can be un-done.

What I know now is that these are totally normal. These are things one thinks after being with the same person for nearly a decade. I was reading about the seven year itch a few months ago, and how most of these questions come with it, and that people either decide to leave or they process it and take their relationship to a new, fresh place.

Now I know all of this, but upon first feeling these things, I thought for certain I had done something wrong. This isn't what someone in a good marriage feels. This isn't how it's supposed to go. If it's good you don't also want out sometimes. So I tried to privately think them away, but, wherever you go, there you are. Because I didn't air them out, they got darker and perpetuated. They swam around my head at night, making me sweat and toss. They were scary to utter internally, alone, in the quiet, dark space of my heart where they lived, and they were scarier still to see falling off my lips and into the open air in front of my husband, this man who I loved so dearly. For a long time, I held them all gingerly in my hands trying to keep them contained, turning them over and over quietly, because I couldn't make sense of them.

I was so happy, but then I wasn't. How does that work?

Turns out that's kind of just how it works.

It also turns out that it's ok.

It's ok.

[vulturesawake]

Not exactly sure how to phrase this but. If you are in the throes of an eating disorder and don't feel ready to recover, take a peek under the readmore.

I struggled with various eating disorders for many years. For most of it, I thought I was doing it the "safe" way. I was hitting my micros/macros, eating almost every day, and making sure to eat nutrient-rich, low-calorie foods along with vitamins. I didn't even lose any hair or get black nails or anything like that, even though I lost over 100lbs in a year. And you know what?

I still fucking disabled myself. I can no longer work even half as much as I used to. I get tired just sitting up. I'm exhausted every minute of every day. If I have a hard shift at work, I can't do anything but lay in bed after, sometimes for days. I'm always in pain. I'm forced to depend on others to survive. I never thought I was "that sick", even refusing to admit that I had an eatong disorder, just "disordered eating".

Enablers, along with your disorder, will have you picturing dying from an ed as being a tender waif wasting away in bed surrounded by people quietly mourning, asking God why he took away someone so young and beautiful. Oh, how we regret our part in this. If only we could have done more! We will remember you as our sweet darling whom we failed so miserably forever.

In reality, you'll die shitting yourself, screaming at hospital staff for giving you a feeding tube, nails brittle and hair patchy and skin yellow and blotchy, wracked to the bone with anxiety and anger and despair, completely out of control. All while everyone else around you is bitter and angry at you because you could be better, you could be alive and well and none of this would be happening, if only you would just Fucking Stop. They're angry at you because you're killing yourself in one of the most horrible, violent ways imaginable and forcing them to watch. The friends and family you have left, anyways, since eds famously force you into isolation.

And what if, at the end of all of that, you don't even die? What if you're like me and many others and you just have to live with the consequences for the rest of your life?

It's not my intention to guilt trip you here. I'm trying to give you a reality check. I know that recovery is hard and scary and some days feels so far out of your reach that it feels like you don't even want it. I understand you and feel for you; recovery is undeniably one of the scariest and most exhausting things you'll ever do. But trust me, eds are so so so much scarier.

You're never "not sick enough" to warrant recovery. The moment you develop disordered eating thoughts, it's an emergency. I'm not kidding. Eds are the most dangerous mental illnesses. They will destroy you from the inside out and it will hurt the whole time you're dying. It's like strongly considering putting yourself through a wood chipper, no hyperbole or irony.

You may not always win. You may not always trend upward, even. But for the sake of yourself and everyone else around you, please please keep fighting it as much as you can possibly muster.

[hannahlowis]

Now when I think about tomorrow I tremble, It’s scares me, it gives me goosebumps and ya I worry a l.o.t BUT honestly what a progress this has been! I don’t force myself to sleep at 7am anymore just because the morning lights were creaking through my window already; my body is demanding the sleep I missed all those nights. I don’t force myself to eat just so I have something before going to work; I actually taste my food better and gain the calories I never ever thought I should burn. I could finally donate some blood in this weight! (red cross na lang ga hulat haha!). I find myself singing in the shower again, I smell thingz better like how I used to and I don’t space-out that much (just when I’m at the end of 12-15hrs shift) . So, If thinking about the future makes me feel somehow scared now, I’m happy, because nothing is scarier than feeling NOTHING at all. I’ve been waiting to see what the light at the end of the tunnel looks like and I guess this is it.

I finally learned that in grief, time doesn’t heal. Recovery is never promised. Going back will not bring you to your old self, she is far long gone.. that she is now counting on you to continue and keep moving, forwards or backwards as long as you move (you might as well learn how to dance again.. slowly). and AH! HOPE. Hope is something you lost when you encounter grief, goodnews is that you’ll meet again. Now I’m shaking hands with it and it feels good.

So yaaaa, this is Reflection timeee. Thanks for reading 😚

[theatlasrealm]

SHORT KAI HCS/SMITH TRIO HCS

—-Kai visibly Looks shorter than the rest of the ninja however he looks taller than Jay only because of his hair gel but in reality he and Jay are the same exact height

—-I said this before and I will say it again to reach kitchen cabinets or any high place kai either does one of two things :

1) airjitzu’s and sets the entire place on fire 2) becomes an Olympic gold metal gymnast

THERE IS NO INBETWEEN

—- Kai doesn’t get bothered much that cole and Zane are taller then him bc they are older… but the fact that his YOUNGER SIBLINGS are taller than him keeps him awake at night..

—-sometimes when nya or lloyd wake up in the middle of the night, scared and shaking, they go to the same person they’ve been going to all their life for nightmares: Kai

—-kai influenced/helped Lloyd a lot. And I mean a LOT, just as much as he helped nya. hair care routine? yeha kai showed Lloyd. how to deal with panic attacks? kai helps him breathe, and taught him how to handle it in case Lloyd is ever alone. Also someone else also said this btw but Lloyd’s weapon is a sword gee I wonder why

—-KAI IS THE FASHIONISTA SIBLING I REPEAT HE IS FASHIONISTA SIBLING-

nya: Kai if I was in your shoes

Kai: first of all my shoes are pieces of art second of all you shouldn’t even be in those shoes good lord we need to go shoe shopping I can’t have my dear sister walking around like that

—-guess who’s holding all the shopping bags when the trio goes shopping! Ur right it is nya and lloyd

“kai please stop we don’t need more clothes”

“lloyd, life is a runaway what do you mean we don’t need more clothes”

“kai that’s it we are going home if I have to carry one more bag-”

—--nya and Lloyd can’t hide crap from kai he just knows

Lloyd, thinking: I hate myself

“hey Lloyd u okay buddy??”

“YEAH!!”

Kai brother instinct triggered

Kai pulls out weapon: abominable hug

weapon was effective lloyd is feeling better

—-kai is a good liar/actor to most people except nya girl sees right through his facade

nya, “hey kai everything okay?”

Kai,” yeah don’t worry everything’s fine!”

nya gently hugs kai and Kai has an emotional breakdown: a sequel

—-kai,”how’s the weather up there”

nya and Lloyd,” we weren’t aware garden gnomes could talk”

—- when any one of them is sick the remaining two know exactly what to do.

Nya is sick? Give her some soup ! Give her some space! She’s independent and isn’t a fan of being taken care of (lloyd respects that!) but yk kai….Kid isn’t scared of nyas rages 💪

Lloyd is sick? give him some soup! make him laugh! hug him! Thankfully he’s smart enough to stay in bed and recover because he knows if he does that the recovery process will be faster! the real question is if kai knows that…

Kai is sick? Code red full lockdown bro is gonna go try and discover a new species while burning at a high temperature. um kai isn’t scared of nyas rages but when she yells at him for not resting while sick she’s like ten times more scarier someone save the poor boy oh look savior lloyd has arrived oh wait nope false alarm he’s yelling at Kai too

—-they all casually share hoodies, graphic tees, etc. but for Kai it looks little too big.. um…. don’t tell him that though…..

—--if things are too overwhelming for Kai he goes to nya and Lloyd. everything seems to melt away when they look up and smile at him

—-don’t insult nya or Lloyd in front of Kai or Kai’s gonna do a full sailor moon transformation and then into a VICIOUS garden gnome.

—-whenever nya’s inventions/ideas don’t work out, she gets angry and frustrated at herself due to her perfectionist nature. Kai always manages to make her feel better

“hey don’t worry nya, you have wonderful ideas and such a smart brain! you created so many things and I couldn’t have been more proud. how about we go eat a snack and then you can come finish this project later! I’ll even help!

—-Kai is really good with ‘feminine’ stuff like sewing (he probably used to stitch up ripped clothes when him and nya were kids) and hair. he knows 7384377348 different hairstyles and does nya’s hair whenever he can. he also tried to teach Lloyd but the poor kid became jumble of confusion. he managed to teach him braids though!!!

you think this is it? naw shawty I’ve got part two coming out soon.

[a-random-aroace]

Ok so AU where Deku almost got turned into a Nomu when in U.A, and instead of being all depresso espresso he has gained a very dark sense of humor, and he can also sharpen his fingernails and teeth into basically claws/knives (Like killua).

He doesn’t really talk about the experience but with the info from the dark as hell jokes they can piece together some of what happened. When the class tries to be soft with him he gets very annoyed, because he doesn’t really like being treated like a soft baby that will cry at anything scarier than a bee.

Sometimes he will freak out and think he is back at the lab, and either run somewhere (most of the time he ends up finding All Might) or attempting to fight the class.

He doesn’t like to go to Recovery Girls or hospitals because the lab was like a fucked up hospital of pain, and smelled like a hospital. So when he goes to Recovery Girls he freaks out. He still has OFA so that can be a problem sometimes. They have found out that bringing Recovery Girl to Deku works a bit better.

When the Leauge Of Villians attack, he freaks out and kinda goes into “kill mode” or he runs away. It really depends on his mood.

There are a few people who can calm him down and get him to feel safe, and they are All Might, Uraraka, Iida, Recovery Girl, and sometimes Aizawa. He feels comfortable around most of the class, and to Bakugou’s disliking, he is not really afraid of him anymore.

He is still a mega fanboy, and still has a lot of the same personality as before, just those changes. He has changed a lot, but is also the same at the same time if that makes sense.

Ok so I’m editing this and boom here ya go

................................ ................................ ........................

I was walking around the city, hoping to find somebody to help, when I got a feeling I was being followed. I whipped my head around to see nobody. I sped up my pace.

It was early Sunday so I wasn’t expecting to see many people. I turn a corner, and feel the eyes on me again. I take a left into the first alleyway. I walk in a square and turn my head around. I spot a hooded figure standing there, staring at me. I quickly go back to the street.

Fuck my life I think as I speed up, trying not to run. I quickly make my way around into a more populated area. Did everybody just decide to avoid this place today?? I finally see people. Thank god, maybe I can lose them in the crowd. I walk as calmly as possible through the crowd, but still feel the eyes.

I feel tears start to well up in my eyes. Goddamnit I shouldn’t be crying, this isn’t a big deal. I wipe the tears away, and start to make my way to a less populated area.

All of a sudden the sidewalk seemed very interesting. I look up to see a tall, blond, bony figure turning the cover ahead of me. I sprint around the corner, tears already falling. Dad... he can help...

I feel something, no, maybe someone, wrap their arms around me. I whip my head around, looking down already, and...

“Izuku?” I turn around completely and see the kid clinging to me, crying. “Let’s get you home.”

Home. That never sounded so good before. I feel myself get picked up. The eyes are finally off me. I bury my face into All- dad, and feel more tears coming. Sobs escaped from my lips. Dad patted my head.

“Don’t worry Izuku, you’re safe now. I will protect you....”

[kaypeace21]

i’m a survivor too, and i found that certain scenes/stuff will said just really struck me as ‘csa-survivor’-like? i felt a bit uncomfortable about headcanoning it happening to someone else, especially for a fandom as wild as this one, but your metas have really been a comfort to me because they’ve been able to pick out and explain things that i couldn’t necessarily find the words for myself.

and yeah, i would love to have a character like me that is powerful and who finds love and who gets a happy ending. the people who call the theory disgusting always kinda hit wrong with me because although csa is a difficult subject, we shouldn’t be ashamed about sharing it. they sound like they’re trying to say that it’s a bad topic to talk about and implying that it can’t happen to kids, which uhhhhh-

(i’m sure that’s not what they mean, precisely, but it’s still what they sound like, and i wish that they would stop implying that we can’t exist, especially in popular media. we do, and i’m not gonna pretend we don’t, and if they feel uncomfortable with the topic they can just use the block button. we deserve to have some well written representation just as much as anyone else. also, i really really hope that will gets a happy ending.)

anywayyyy i love your theories and i can see your post in the tag so i think you’re fine?? have a good day ❤️❤️❤️

SORRY, this ask took so long to respond to. It always warms my heart to hear other survivors speak and say they found comfort in my theory.

Yes, I think I and a lot of c*a/r*pe victims (subconscious or otherwise) were triggered by some of the symbolism/visuals in s1-3. And s3 made it hard for most of us to ignore the past imagery- since s3 wasn’t as subtle.

I get why people have reservations about the theory. But the debates to the contrary are usually just plain offensive. Or people trying to be respectful but being the opposite. There’s the obvious bad-apples . I got many anons after part 1 of my DID theory saying it “ruined/tainted byler”, and “if that happened to Will i’ll stop shipping byler” , or that it  “ruins the best gay character” ,  and to “remove the post immediately”. And this was when I was open about being a gay c*a victim. I obviously blocked them. Many survivors don’t come forward because they’re afraid people will see them as “tainted”, “ruined”, “ just their trauma”, or blame them for what happened. So yeah, it pisses me off when people say similar stuff about Will (and thus other c*a victims). Not even diving into the messed up psychology about byler/mileven shippers (knowing i was a lesbian c*a victim) but purposely spreading bs rumors about me being a p*do that was into Will/Noah-all because of the theory. -_-

Then there’s the people who try to be “respectful” but literally do the opposite.

I’ve heard numerous times it’s somehow “less offensive” to just use r*pe imagery to make monsters scary. Rather than have  the monsters have that imagery cause Will created the monsters from his memory/imagination-and st is a story of Will healing from that trauma. SORRY- I disagree. Using the worst experiences of peoples’ lives (and triggering their trauma) for no real purpose- except to make their monsters scarier to the normal/general audience who haven’t gone through it so won’t be triggered like us - is MORE OFFENSIVE to victims! NOT LESS! At least to me.

Then there’s the people who say “c*a should never be talked about (in stories).” Which I disagree with. V*ctims have already been told by ab*ser’s  and enablers of the ab*ser- to never talk about what happened to us  . So it rubs A LOT of us the wrong way when people say this.  Because (subconscious or not) you remind some of us of the people who used to hurt/silence us. People say this -simply for their convenience (like ab*sers) and cause deep down they’re uncomfortable with our existence and equate the despicable act to us the innocent v*ctim ...or just want to deny the horrible reality of the situation (like many enablers who deny the truth and hurt us because they don’t want to accept reality) . And 1) It brings us back to a time where they told us to NEVER talk about it- and makes us feel like we did something wrong when we didn’t! 2) Every psych professional says with-holding/keeping the ab*se a secret is detrimental to our mental health.

Plus, there’s a HUGE difference between sugarcoating/minimizing trauma or WORSE glamorizing, condoning, or romanticizing C*A in stories (ex: pretty little liars) VS showing how the action is wrong, causes trauma, but showing recovery and happiness is still possible for v*ctims.  if the story shows how accurately traumatizing it is (instead of minimizing/glamorizing it)- it’s incredibly rare for that character to get a happy ending. Having a story about recovering from that type of trauma and finding happiness despite such hardships would be amazing for US survivors! We rarely get stories with a happy ending-  it’s more harmful to us survivors to never see ourselves get happy endings in tv/film/books. How can some survivors (in a dark place) think there’s a light at the end of the tunnel- if it’s never shown?Also if Will has DID too- it’s good mental health rep, along with queer rep (and survivor’s rep.) All 3 groups rarely are treated well or get happy endings in media. A lot of people may feel more heard, seen, and a bit more hopeful for the future - If Will (and other characters) get a happy ending.

And even though st has many themes- like say homophobia. To try and hand-wave all the disturbing  r*pe imagery away  as ‘Will is just gay so the monsters are like that”. IS SOOOOOO offensive. Trigger warning for examples. I’m sorry what part of Max saying when Billy had c*nsensual s*x it’s “good screams” but when possessed by the mf he causes Heather to do “bad screams” read as gay???! Having the possessed ch*ke/dr*g people before throwing them in trunks (like it’s implied Lonnie did to Will -since Jonathan checked Lonnie’s trunk for Will in s1)?Tying their arms and legs up/ g*ging  them and  getting on top of them and saying “stay VERY still it’ll all be over soon”-before a monster shoves it’s tentacle into someone’s mouth and inserts a goo - just gay??? Similar to the sentient vine/shadow monster forcing itself down Will’s throat. Let alone Will saying things like “he made me do it”, “i felt it everywhere”, or being tied to a bed and screaming “help! stop! it hurts! let me go!” While Jonathan is the only one who’s visibly triggered by this and has to literally turn away and hug someone . Or barb, billy, and El spiting up a white liquid from their mouth (similar to will spitting up a slug and lying to his mother about it ).El/billy touching a suspicious looking slime with their hand and looking at the substance confused . El drawing Papa with 3 legs (the middle one being shorter) ,  trying to undress in front of the boys , and Benny saying “I think she’s been ab*sed or something”.The theme of ab*sive dads- brenner , Lonnie, and Neil . Even when the demogorgan (called in d&d the “deep father”/ in the show “a man without a face”) attacked Barb it’s chopped up with scenes of Nancy having c*nsensual sex (the monsters are doing the opposite symbolically). There’s way more examples but NO- to try and hand wave /equate ALL OF THIS to just “gay imagery” or an “a*ds metaphor” is WAY more problematic. And just offensive (specifically to gay people) than just admitting what it may actually represent. R*pe imagery and gay imagery is NOT THE SAME THING!

Also ST has never been a kid show- maybe rewatch the show and see the rating of tv-14 . Goodness sake- s1 has a st*ged su*icde, k*dnappings, m*rder, discussions of physics, h*mophobia, and s*x (with stancy in s1 & jancy in s2-s3). S2/3 discuss at their finalies recovering from tra*ma . S2 had gra*ic de*ths,  a man causing a women br*in damage/ and faking her m*scarriage, and a gang of vigalantes k*lling criminals. s3 had critiques on capitalism /media/s*xism, many d*eaths, and questionable imagery like the prior seasons. The Duffers constantly reference  movies & events from the 80s (capitalizing on 80s nostalgia /subverting 80s motifs that middle age people  from that time remember)! Those people were their intended age demographic . Most 80s centric refs go over most kids’ heads (heck a lot went over my head too since I wasn’t alive in the 80s XD).The Duffers even said in the book “worlds turned upsidedown”  “it’s not a kid’s show despite having kids”. And maybe it’s a coincidence but when Lucas in s3 hands Will the “devil’s baby” firework (a hint about Lonnie) he says “18 and over only.” Which idk is a weird/random af line unless it’s foreshadowing that the show will get darker about various themes- and maybe even change ratings.

I get people wishing nothing bad ever happened to Will or Jonathan. And being apprehensive and not trusting the Duffers to do such a story justice (cause it’s difficult to do). But personally i trust them to do so tastefully with tact and not be exp*itative, (overly gr*fic) or offensive to v*ctims. You can disagree and think the show is about something else (or not trust the Duffers)- but it’d be great if people could stop using these other messed up talking points. While trying to appear ‘(fake) woke’ and like they care for victims- cause we see through it that you really don’t.

Have a lovely day anon ❤️ ❤️ ❤️

Update- I just really agreed with and appreciate the tags in this reblog

[sevensav--d-archived]

@random-oc-questions-fairy​ sent  What does your character think of their present? What would they change about it? If you had to choose one moment that led them to where they are, what would it be?

**Everyone in the main cast (Fukumi, Itoshi, Nomiko and Satsuka) will be answering. **NOTE. BASED ON MANGA CANON, SPOILERS FROM THE WAR ARC WILL BE PRESENT. **ALSO TW FOR SU*CIDE MENTION

“I didn’t think that things could ever get this serious.  Not when I’m...This young, you know?  I’m sixteen years old, but I’ve seen so much violence and death... I’ve been in a war, for Pete’s sake.”  She sighs, looking down at the arm she’d broken during the battle.  It’s been fixed now, thanks to the help of Recovery girl. She’s quiet for a moment, before she adds, “You know... I don’t think things would be different, even if I wasn’t here.  If anything, it would probably be... Even scarier.  My mom and sister wouldn’t have been offered UA’s protection.”  She looks off down the hall towards the room her mom and sister occupy.   “The thing is... What led me here, I don’t regret that.  This is where I’m supposed to be... But... Maybe if I’d trained harder... Or insisted I be closer to the actual fight...”  

Her bandaged fists clench.  “If I could have stopped that giant monster...  Then maybe.. Midnight would still be here.”

---

“Jesus Christ, what wouldn’t I change?”  He’s sitting on his bed, working on a replacement arm.  Since moving back into the dorm after his time at the hospital it became his priority to replace the limbs that he’d worn during the war.  They were far too stained with blood to ever be worn again.  “My classmates almost dying, my teacher getting mutilated, another teacher of mine being killed-”  He rattles on, looking more and more frustrated.  “My stupid parents refusing to take refuge at UA, being expected to just go right back into school, fucking Midoriya leaving-”  

He exhales with a groan.  “I feel like all of this would have happened with or without me being involved, so saying me choosing the path of being a hero isn’t worth talking about...  But I think I made a discovery about myself during the war.  I can’t get hurt like most people.  When I saw my teacher in danger, I ran for him, knowing that there was next to no way I could ever be hurt as badly as he was.  But that isn’t enough.  I need to be stronger.  I need to find a way to make myself stronger.  Harder to break, harder to burn.  That’s how I’ll keep people safe.”

---

She was one of the last of her classmates to be discharged, so by the time she came back to the dorms, she found them overcrowded wit hadults.  The parents of her classmates.  She knew she likely wouldn’t see her own parents there.  Her mother was so far away, and her father had been the one that put her in the hospital in the first place.  But, in going to her room she found her mother waiting for her.  “It feels weird havin’ her here.”  She mumbles, jamming her hands in her pockets.  “...I wish I coulda finished Husk off, at the bare minimum.  Or at least stopped him.  But as far as I know, he’s still alive.  He made threats, that he was gonna hurt my friends.  I don’t like the idea of killin’ nobody but.. I feel like I don’t have a choice.”

---

“I tried to kill myself when I was sixteen, and again when I was 25.  But the past few weeks makes those times in my life seem like walks in the park.”  She’s exhausted.  Between acting as a grief counselor for the students and staff, helping the parents acclimate and counseling them, and worrying endlessly about her injured friends...  She feels like she’s barely holding on, that she could shatter at any moment.  She insisted she was strong, and that she was fine but there’s only so much longer she can keep that lie alive.

“I wonder, if I’d become a hero like I wanted to when I was younger, instead of going off and working for the Government... If I could have been more useful in the fight.  I had to stay back during the battle and I know if I’d been allowed out there I could have helped...  I don’t know if we would have had a clearer victory but... I can’t help but wonder.”  And lose sleep.  Lots and lots of sleep.

[writingfromthepit]

drops

TW // mentions of self-harm, ED

the strange, and sometimes infuriating, thing is that i can feel myself getting worse.

every time, it's like a fog that descends onto my brain, leaving me disconnected and numb. and then it's the drops, random times where i plunge down to my worst for days or weeks. 

after that, it's just darkness and self-destruction.

the terrible thing about this is that i have no way of stopping it. anything i do seems to make it worse, mostly because "anything" usually involves a relapse of some sort. either i step back on the scale, trying desperately to control something, or i take it out on my body. either of those leaves me feeling worse, and i get trapped in the inevitable cycle of self-harm. 

i wonder why i'm like this, sometimes. why i'm wired to be miserable. it gets a hell of a lot harder to pursue recovery when i think that maybe, i'm just destined to fail. 

it seems like a cruel joke played by the universe that maybe i'll spend the rest of my life like this because of a problem with something as tiny as DNA. sometimes i forget how long i've been carrying this weight. but then i realize that i can't remember a time without the darkness anymore. i can't remember what my thighs looked like without scars, or when i could look at my stomach without cringing. it's been so long since i was able to rest. since i was able to breathe freely.

it's almost funny how my brain works. i get worse, and i feel powerless, so i control my body or food or blood. but that only helps until you get trapped. and when that happens i feel even more powerless. so i throw myself into the depths, because it's easier than staying where i am and listening to the fucking screaming in my head all day. i do this over and over and over. and it's terrifying to think that maybe i'll keep doing it, over and over, until i can't claw my way back out. until i'm so drained and defeated that that jump into the abyss is my last. that's no way to live, trapped in my mind. 

but then again, i don't remember the last time i truly lived.

i don't know if i ever have. and i don't know which of those thoughts is scarier. 

[compassionatereminders]

I really resonated with your post on Mental Illness Lying To You. It was like a big weight off of my shoulders knowing that it isn’t just me against myself. But just my mental illness lying to me. Thank you for sharing. Xx

You're welcome! Basically I think that while your mental illness is a part of your life and affects you, it is not "you" - and I think it's important to maintain some degree of separation. Cause otherwise you can end up in a situation where letting go of your mental illness feels like letting go of yourself - which can make the recovery process even harder and scarier than it already is. That's why it's so important not to let your suffering become the defining aspect of your entire identity.

[one-abuse-survivor]

do you have any advice on getting your parents out of your life completely? I'm still a teen (14, to be exact) but I plan on getting a job, saving up, and moving out the moment I turn 18 and knowing how to cut them out before hand will make things 10 times easier. Thank you for any advice you do or do not give and please the care of yourself this holiday season.

In terms of never needing to see or contact them ever again, I really recommend that you have all your legal papers with you when you leave, as well as all the belongings that you don’t want to leave behind. My decision to cut my abuser out for good was very sudden, and I had to meet with her quite a lot of times afterwards to get my belongings. To this day, I still don’t have some important documents like my vaccination card (dunno if this is a thing everywhere, but it is where I live) or my family book, which gives me quite a lot of anxiety when I think about it. Same about my drawings and photos from childhood – those aren’t a necessity, but I just personally value memories a lot. So yeah, you know yourself best – when the time is nearing and you’re home alone, just go through everything in that house that belongs to you and try to make a list, mental or physical, of what you want and don’t want to take with you. Investigate on what papers you need where you live and make sure you have them all with you!

And in terms of socially cutting them out of your life, I think a big part of the process for me was (and still is) letting the people around us know that I no longer have any kind of relationship with my mother. Family members, friends in common, old teachers and friends who know her… it’s slow, but little by little you’ll need to let them know. And by this I don’t mean you have to plan it ahead, or anything: just that when they ask questions like “oh, how are your parents doing?” or the like, even if you can’t bring yourself to do it at first, you’ll eventually have to reply that you don’t know because they’re no longer in your life so that people stop asking.

It may sound scarier than it actually is (it did for me XD), but most people won’t ask questions, because most people prefer to avoid conflict and just roll along with situations that aren’t “socially acceptable” (like cutting out any family member) and keep their thoughts to themselves. But for the few who ask the invasive questions and generally just question your decision, my therapist gave me the sentence “that is between my mother and I”. Basically, I memorised this sentence and repeated it over and over when necessary, establishing that boundary so that people would know insisting would get them nowhere because I don’t want to share any details. 

This last bit, of course, is for the people around you who aren’t close to you. Another important part of cutting out your abusive family and recovering from abuse is to have or slowly build a network of people around you who can give you a sense of community and normalcy so you don’t feel isolated and like you don’t fit in the world around you. For me, these people are some of my friends from high school, but also one or two people from uni. Internet friends can help A LOT too in terms of having people to talk to who understand, but my therapist made it very clear that I have to avoid isolating myself irl because growing up in an abusive household made me feel isolated and separated from the world and like I would never get free, so an important part of recovery (for me!) is integrating myself in the world. She also told me this is really important because, in a similar fashion to how some people will miss their abusive ex when they’ve been separated for a while, it’s a common experience to suddenly have moments where you viscerally miss your abusive parents when you’re outside of the abusive situation. This happens, at least to me, because once the bad moments aren’t flooding your mind, the good memories start coming back, but I know other people who miss the parent they wish they’d had. It’s different for everyone! In any case, having people around you that can support you through the bad moments of recovery and give you feedback on your thoughts can make a huge difference.

Other than that, some things I recommend are not telling your parents that you’re planning on moving out until it’s already done, so that they can’t guilt-trip you into staying or withhold resources that you’ll need in order to leave. I’d also recommend not telling them where you live once you get out, and seeking therapy if you can and want to so you have professional guidance with PTSD and with the issues that may arise with your parents when you cut them out (I’ve had to text my therapist regarding my mother trying to contact me more than once 😅). I personally don’t reply to my abuser when she texts me and am looking forward to blocking her phone number as soon as she doesn’t know where I live, although I know I personally have to be careful with this, because it’s healthy to not reply to her texts if it’s an active decision to set a boundary, but it’s not so healthy if it’s an avoidance strategy. 

I think that’s all that comes to mind. If anyone has any other advice, feel free to add to the post! I hope you’re taking care too, nonnie. Sending a hug 💗 

PS. Sorry if this is a lot – I can only speak from personal experience and from where I am now, but I don’t want anyone to feel overwhelmed or like recovering and getting out of their abusive situation is just unattainable. I got out of my abusive home and started my recovery process almost by mistake, having no idea where I was getting or how to get there, and now I’m better than I have ever been. Even if you don’t have everything planned and you’re just rolling along with it and even if you mess up along the way, things can turn out fine 💗