#my evening; 'I'm mentally doing quite well' therapy session!

[too-many-rooks]

Status report on Slough House sims 4 build project for @hr-twink 🫡🫡

(So - took your recommendation to watch the Patrice 'chase' scene in 04x06, and it cracked a LOT of mysteries vis a vis the complicated floor plan.)

The main problem is the stairs are insane. There are so many stairs. even with platforms, there's no way I'm fitting all these stairs in. (and also, where are the toilets? My curiosity lingers)

Last start first floor;

I'm fairly confident this is the layout of Roddy's floor; the stairs should maybe be a bit further forward so there's more of an L bend to the entrance hall (the door is definitely too far to the right), but that would have really exacerbated this stair well issue I'm having. I'll explain more later.

Here's some Roddy room close ups

But then, what's going on in this bit with the ? area? Is this part of the restaurant? Until I've got a better answer I'm gonna deem it a massive space they just don't use for some reason making it a theoretical nether space to use in fics where potentially anything could be crammed in there/could be used for anything. Who knows what kind of sultry encounters are happening inbetween the storage boxes in the unused first floor office?

Back to business. and my frustration with STAIRS, gah.

Here's the second floor;

Issues here; there should be another set of stairs leading up to this landing bit that I've labelled in green, and then there's an empty dumping area next to it. Really couldn't figure out how to make that work without dragging the first-second floor stairs way back, which wasn't an option.

River and Louisa's inexplicable corridor has now been explained; it leads to a door halfway up the stairs going towards Lamb and Standish's floor. It's too fat, it should be a slim little tunnel, but to get it in the right place I'd have to stretch Louisa and River's office waaaay too long.

then there's this bit which I've labelled the problematic corridor. The red arrow indicates a time Catherine would have walked into a wall if I have this layout right. So. Don't think I do. But there is a corridor leading to the landing here. Need to study that min and Louisa smooching scene bc I think that'll have a better view of this whole general area. 🤔

Also, where does the elevator go down to on the first floor? a bit of the mysterious secret room?

But, closeups!

Landing issues continue on the third floor, and that's where I gave up for the evening. But I put a little chess box near where Catherine's office will be to incorporate for her, (and I put a dog turd in Jackson's toilet).

and I did some work on the edifice of the surrounding buildings, think it looks much better! FYI: interior of Slough House is mostly in the red building above the restaurant and the brown one to the right. For the red bit, the left side level three is River and Louisa's office, and then above is Lamb's. Roddy's above the red awning, and Marcus and Shirley above that. Major cred to @hr-twink for cracking the office layout.

Also; it's all generally a bit too bright and cheerful, I'm building in the LA inspired world, (it was the only one with enough concrete!) so it's way too sunny. Maybe changing the colour of the internal lighting will make it all a bit more grim?

[sunflowersbones]

Stalker’s Tango

Warnings: This fic will contain NON-CON, Discussion on mental health, Psychological distress, Stalking, Violence. My warnings are not exhaustive, proceed at your own risk.

[AUGUST WALKER x reader]

18+ only. This is a dark!fic and explicit. Your media consumption is your own responsibility. DO NOT PROCEED if these matters upset you.

Summary: The therapy sessions with your new patient have been going well lately; something that surprises you due to his initial distaste towards the mandatory sessions his unit commands. You’re glad that there is progress in some part of your life, as your own mental health seems to be slowly sinking. You chalk it up to exhaustion and stress; but as the events of your life unfold, you realise that your mind hadn’t been playing games. It had been warning you; that danger truly did lurk around the corner.

DIVIDERS: @firefly-graphics

NOTE: I'm absolutely devastated that I couldn’t put this out in August; my laptop decided to die on me. I know it's not that big of a deal, but still. So for my sake, let's presume that I did post this in August cuz I'm not waiting until next year.

*

You observe him as you slowly twirl your pen around; in between your fingers. He was so unlike any of the other patients you’ve ever had.

He always seems so calm and collected. His attire always put together. His clothes were just as stiff and polished as him. He seems to gravitate more towards a monotone cool palette of blues, blacks, and greys, and if he desires to experiment a little; he’ll try brown or a pale yellow, but that’s about it.

You had been having a hard time, trying to figure out if it was due to his personal likes and dislikes or if he chooses it due to a societal and corporate expectation from men’s fashion, but you dismantled the latter thought quite quickly.

His voice is always loud and clear; it never quivers, and he rarely repeats himself. He always just seems so sure of himself. You suppose that’s why he hated this in the beginning—not that he's so fond of it now, but at least he's moved on from his initial grunts and one-word answers.

It must be an offence to a man like him to presume that he is, quote-unquote, “weak”. That talking about your emotions and difficulties or having regular therapy sessions is only for those who make their way into lunatic asylums. That they; as normal citizens, are better than the others.

Even educated people cannot shroud themselves from the taboo around mental health. You of all people know that very well; you’ve dealt with it quite personally. He reminded you of your father, not just in attitude but also in tone. Both of them carry a patronizing effect in their voice, even through the most simple remarks.

Your father was a man of voice and vigour to whom even the notion of mental health was absurd. His anger, most likely contributing to his denial of most problems. People of his generation tend to be like that, while it is changing—not at the pace you wish it would.

Having a patient who does not even try to get better unnerved you a little. You had never been very persuasive, all you can do is help bring clarity. You tell yourself to keep calm; perseverance is the only way to survive in this line of work.

His eyes land on you, onto your pen, and then above you; on to the clock, you presume. In the beginning his eyes never left it, at least now they only longingly look up half way through the session.

“Well, won't you look at that, doc? Times up,” he says in a tone of farce surprise, as if he hasn’t been yearning for the clock to strike.

You heave a small sigh as a smile forms on your lips; for a man his size, he can be quite childish.

“You know, August, it’s not your job to keep up with the clock; it's mine. Your mind is supposed to be relaxed in here.”

“Of course, I simply wouldn’t want to keep your other patients waiting; you're quite in demand, you know.” Your eyes quirk up in a questioning gaze; he already seems to have anticipated it.

“This generation loves coming in here, they think that you can fix all of their problems. They believe that their minds are broken simply because they can't handle the reality of life,” his voice laced with contempt and disappointment.

“Well anyway, see you next week, doc.” His tone was determined, so you didn’t bother to keep him longer than what was required. Your half-assured goodbye was only met by the creaking hinges of the closing door.

The entire bus ride home, your mind had been preoccupied with him; you nearly missed your stop. To some people, it's just a notion; their rigidity tends to crack from the sides, but he truly believes that all of this is useless, and that’s what makes it all the more difficult. It's not just prejudice; it's a true belief. You have to find a way around this or all your work will go down the drain.

You crack your neck as you walk into your apartment, fatigue taking over your entire body. You’d initially planned on taking a warm, long bath, but now you just want to fill your stomach and pass out. You heat up yesterday's mac and cheese, while it's nothing elaborate; it's enough to fill you up. The low rhythmic whirring of the oven lulls you as you think of all your other patients; you still have to come up with a proper time schedule to alternate between all of them, and then there’s August. You’ve met teenagers who are less adamant than he is, the oven beeps as it snaps you out of your thoughts. The smell of cheese fills you with ease, and you decide not to bring work to the dinner table, you’ll think about it tomorrow.

You walk into your bedroom ready to crash when your eyes land on the bluebells you bought a week ago. You curse yourself for forgetting about it again. None of your indoor plants ever seem to survive, no matter how much you care for them. But the wild ones growing outside your window seem to have no problem flourishing as they grow out through the thin cracks of the wall.

You fill a glass up and move to water the plants. As you lean in, you notice that the soil seems damp; a small crinkle forms in between your brows. You can’t remember watering them this morning, but then again, you did everything in a hurry today. Terrified that you’ll miss your morning bus. You don’t think much of it as you place the glass down. Your bluebells seem to be retaining their colour; you hope this one won't die on you.

A strong thud startles you from your repose; suddenly wide awake, your annoyance turns into dread as you suspect that the noise was coming from inside your apartment—you couldn’t remember if you had locked the front door. Nighttime stirs up the imagination of your ears; as you sit up on your bed, your mind convinces you that you can hear low symphonies mixed in the silence. You're sure that you can hear footsteps outside the room, or was it the creak of the door? You feel goosebumps etch your entire body as you force yourself to take a deep breath.

You slowly get out of bed, careful as to not make any noise. You look around for your phone only to realise that you’d left it on the kitchen table. Now your worry increases even more; you can hear your heart beating in your chest. You’re unsure of what to do. You could simply lock the door to your room, but then what? Wait until the morning? For all you know, it was nothing, simply your paranoid nature freaking out.

Your mother tends to make it a habit of informing you about every single crime activity that pops up on the news; whether you're interested in it or not. Her own fear and paranoia seem to have transmitted onto you in an increasing degree. If you are hopefully alive by tomorrow, you’ll keep in mind to stop watching those missing persons documentary.

You slowly peep out of your room. You look over to the left, slightly straining your neck, only to find the main door locked. You heave a relieved sigh at that. You walk into the kitchen and find your phone on the table just where you had left it. The light from the streetlight fills your kitchen with a low yellow glow as you hear another thud. You look over through the window and see a truck unload some boxes, the noise now you’re certain was from this ruckus. You absent-mindedly wonder if someone new was moving in as you make your way back to bed.

The slow-moving normalcy of everyday life makes you indifferent of others in the daytime, but at night... that’s when every little movement terrifies you. You clutch your handbag around a little tighter, your head spins around every few minutes, and your feet pick up their pace no matter how exhausted you are. A pepper spray bottle has found a permanent residence in your bag. You’ve made a habit to always make sure that your door is closed and locked. You don’t want to admit it, but you're actually a little perturbed after last week's incident, mostly about your own forgetfulness.

You wonder if the stress of it is evident on your face; the raven-haired man in front of you has been rather cooperative today. He answers you without the usual quirky remarks. You wonder if it's due to his own interest in taking these sessions seriously or if it's because of the dark circles that lace your eyes. His eyes landed on your face the second he entered and has remained on them since. He looked like he wanted to say something but thought better of it; however, his inquisitive nature could only keep it in for so long.

“Not to be harsh, Doc, but you look like shit. Not getting enough sleep?”

“Sleep has been evading me as of lately, yes.”

“Why?”

“Nothing much, just work.”

“Huh, I didn’t think dealing with a bunch of paper work and people would be that hard; regret signing up for it?,” he says as he crosses his ankle onto his other leg. His condescending baritone reminds you of a familiar one, and you momentarily snap back a “no,” but you compose yourself rather quickly. Deflection—that’s what they all do.

“Every job has its hurdles, August. But we are not here to talk about mine; we’re here to talk about yours.”

“So tell me how’s work?”

“Can’t talk about it; confidentiality agreement, remember?.” He quips.

“Of course, I didn’t mean the intricacies of it. I meant, how does it make you feel? I’m sure working for the government has its own complicacies.”

“Do you enjoy your work? Does it stress you? Do you ever feel like you’ve neglected life?” His jaw clenches at that as his voice turns gruff.

“No, I do what I have to; I’m ready to make sacrifices for my work, and yes, you could say that I enjoy it. In fact, I think it’s the only thing I enjoy in life sometimes...” The last part seems to be a careless whisper, but you catch on to it anyway.

“Well, that’s not very healthy; why? Do you find life outside of work difficult? Stressful?”

“No. I just find it mundane.”

There’s something in his eyes that makes you feel like it's aimed at you rather than the conversation you’re having, but you don’t dwell on it.

The rest of your conversation carries on, and after August’s session, you call onto your next patient. Your greeted by a familiar strawberry blonde; you’d completely forgotten about her.

“Gee Y/N, sometimes I wonder how you even work when you have to deal with a hottie like that fella!.”

“Ha-ha, I survive, Nance. I survive.”

“But seriously, look at him—what an absolute specimen.”

“That he is.”

“Ohhh, I sense tension; is he the grumpy kind?”

“Spot on.”

“Hmm.. well, the hot ones do tend to be like that.”

“So how are the babies?”

“Oh great, its been great as of lately; Charlie said his first words, you know.”

“Ahh, how wonderful!; was it mom?”

The gleam on her rosy cheeks makes the answer apparent. You're so happy to see the girl you’ve now known for two years, who at first meeting was just a gloom of anxiety and sadness. She’s changed so much, and only for the better. You listen to her carefully as she continues; but even then, in the back of your mind, his staring eyes persist.

You huff as you run towards the bus stop, unable to reach on time as you watch your bus leave. You look around; the evening is darker than usual, indicative of the fast approaching winter. You have no idea when the next bus will arrive. This junction being nooked into the corner had fewer buses on this route compared to the main one. So you decide to just walk your way to it.

Your feet ache as your slippers slap onto the road. You should have left the office earlier; it would have spared you the walk. You continue on through the cold night, wrapping your arms around yourself, when you hear a soft snap behind you. You turn around thinking nothing of it, purely based on instinct.

Surprised to find yourself all alone; a tiny part of you is uncomfortable. You start to walk a little faster, restless to reach the bus stop. However, as you turn around a corner, you hear light footsteps behind you; they sound much calmer compared to yours. It means nothing; it’s most likely just somebody walking towards the bus stop, just like you. But your nerves get the best of you, and to ease your mind, you increase your pace. The second you do your followers pace increases as well. They sound much louder now; it puts your heart in a frenzy. You could see the dim light of the bus stop ahead of you. Your body sprints towards it.

You reach the bus stop a little calm now due to the lights that fill the stop; its saxe hue comforts you from the danger your mind intuits. You notice a man asleep on one of the seats. The new-found comfort of the lights and the company gives you the courage to look behind. You come to regret the decision as you feel your heart skip a beat.

A tall shadow stands a few meters away, their figure looming in the darkness. You're unable to see anything but a dark outline; but you suspect it’s a man. Even from afar, his enormous size is terrifying.

You’re so grateful to see a bus approach; you climb into it immediately as its doors buzz open and peep out through the glass window only to find nothing. Nobody’s around except for the man who was asleep on the bench; it's almost as if you had imagined a ghost up. But you know, that was not true because that little heart of yours was still thundering inside you; assuring you that the fear you felt had been very real.

The days ahead had been increasingly difficult, your fear transmuting into insomnia as you lay awake at night petrified of every little noise you hear. The chances of somebody stalking you seem ridiculous, but how many women had believed such and been the victims of an attack?

Your cautiousness skyrocketed these days, and you carried two bottles of pepper spray along with you. You’ve decided to put an installment on a car; your house was not very far away from work but enough to evoke the fear within. You could not rely on the buses anymore; you did not want to end up suffering because of their impunctual timing.

You had been searching through your cabinet to make sure you had all the files that were required. That’s when you found it, it had arrived a week ago; you remember receiving it, but you’d been too busy to check it out. August's health and history files had been finally transferred on to you; you had requested it nearly a month ago.

You skim through the papers, nearly missing it at first, but you reread the part again, and a frown forms in-between your brows. His first mission... he… he’d lied to you.

It wasn’t anything out of the ordinary; all clients lie to a certain extent. Especially during the initial stages of therapy, even when it isn’t a case of "pseudologia fantastica." It's just the initial distress of being vulnerable and the desire to express ones own narrative rather than the truth.

But with August... while you never really thought of it before, now you slightly suspect if August has a case of pathological lying. For some people, it's not about a grand lie; it's about the smaller details. And you're sure it’s the norm in his line of work; the lines between lying and withholding the truth tend to blend pretty soon when one is not cautious. You won't lie; you’re a little disappointed in him, or with yourself; you're unsure.

You don’t know why you thought this conversation would go easily; the clench in his jaw, the anger in his eyes, and the tight grip of his fingers clearly suggested otherwise.

“I have no idea what you're talking about, doc.”

“August please. Let's not waste our time, I know. They sent me your files. I need to have certain knowledge about my patient's history.” His gaze pierces through you at that.

You try your best to approach the topic as softly as you can. “Your mission, your first mission; you weren’t alone; you had a team... and there were casualties. You’d suffered from a severe head trauma too. It was—

“A disaster?” The grimace in his voice was mixed with pain and anger.

“…difficult. Is that why you lied? August I need you to know this is a safe space. I’m not here to judge you; that’s not what we are here to do.”

“You’re a practical person; you know that lying doesn’t help. It simply convinces you that you’ve made progress when, truthfully, you’ve just been stagnant the whole time.”

“I, we, all... all of this,” you say, waving your hand around, “we exist to help you, not to condemn you. You can open up to me; that’s what I’m here for.”

His aggression at that makes you flinch. All you hear is the scraping of his chair, and before you could voice anything, he was gone. No other patient had stumped you the way he had, and when you finally snap out of it and go out in search of him, he’s nowhere to be found.

Your day had gone by uneventfully; August’s departure had been lingering on your mind the whole day. Coming back from work, both your mind and body had been exhausted. You didn’t even bother with dinner, your eyes closing the second you meet the bed.

Your body allowed your mind to sleep for a few hours before the familiar pang of hunger stirred you awake. You turn around and feel your heart clench; an overflow of fear courses through you. Your throat constricted as you whimper; the darkened, sharp outline of the man seated before now moves forward. The small strand of silver moonlight shines onto his face.

“You tend to talk in your sleep, you know.”

Fear paralyses you completely as you stay put. He stands up and walks over to your bed, his entire frame towering over you. He stares at you for a few seconds before flinching away.

One would imagine you were the one who broke into his place to hurt him if they saw him now. The pain etched on his face changes from discomfort to anger. You hear him draw a deep breath in as he composes himself.

“You’re on my mind a lot doc.”

“At first I entertained it, it was just a harmless little fantasy. And you… you’re such a cliché, ” he sighs, “your clothes, your glasses, your office, it doesn’t help.”

“Your table is always meticulously arranged, everything’s always in order, even your stupid post-it notes are colour coded,” he hisses, “I’d wanted to throw everything off of that table and fuck you on it until you were a babbling mess.”

“Not to belittle you doc, but you look like you’d get cock drunk pretty fast.”

He turns toward you, his broad shoulders straightened as he slightly tilts his head

“I’d have my hand around your throat, tight enough for you to barely breath,” he growls, “could make you shut up for once.”

“But then you decided that you wanna fuck with my head. And now I can’t get you out of my fucking mind.”

Your eyes travel towards the door, you could just make a dash for it but he seems to have read your mind. “Don’t even try.”

Your fear overclouds your judgment and you bolt out of the bed, but you barely take three steps, before he grabs onto you and throws you back onto the bed.

“Why do you have to make this so fucking difficult.”

You try again never the less as you smack him. None of this seems to deter him, one of his hand moves to twist your arm around your back. You scream in pain, only to have his other hand warp around your throat. You try to scratch his face, shoulders, neck anything just to make him let you go.

His fingers dig into you harder, his hand now moves around to the back of your neck making you wince “Please,” you whisper as he pushes your face onto you pillow.

“What did you think, you could run away from me? I’m ten times faster that you are. The only way you got away from me is because I let you.”

“Please, please, August. This isn—

You feel him hard against your ass, as he presses himself on to you.

“I didn’t expect you to be begging so soon Y/N, why hurry? we have the whole night for that don’t we.”

Your whole body stills with fear. His hands loosens around you as he’s moves to unbuckle his belt. Suddenly, you sense a rush of energy bloom within you; this might be your only chance.

You use all of your strength to push him away. He slightly looses his balance; just as you use the opportunity to move out of the bed, his hand lands on your ankle making you fall, face flat on to the floor.

You wince as your head and nose pound in pain, your body moving as he turns you around. His hands dig into the flesh of your arms as he looks at you.

“That was your own doing. I don’t want to hurt you, but I can if I wanted to. I can make this really painful for you Y/N, but if you co-operate I’ll go easy on you, understand?”

A slight nod of your head is all you can manage as you hear the sound of your shirt being ripped apart. Your shorts and underpants gone just as easily. Your face ends up on the bed again, as his left arm palms your breast. His other hand moves to coat your cunt with his juices. You feel a rush of disgust and shame course through you.

He rubs his leaking tip on your folds, his teeth gently nipping on your shoulders. He pushes himself into you, your mouth gently  parts as you feel his length inside your body. You hear him curse as pulls you up, your hands extending as you use them to balance yourself.

His hands land on you hip, “shit, your tight. Should have expected that from you.”

He begins to thrust in, slowly at first but then just as he gets comfortable his pace increases. You could hear the sound of his hips slapping into you. The girth of him nearly ripping your core apart. The fabric of his shirt and pants felt like they were made out of small metal pins as they grazed your naked skin.

Your mind still couldn’t believe this was actually happening, your eyes focused onto the movement of the headboard; the bed shaking because of him.

His hand on your hip tightens and as he spills into you, you hear a low carnal moan. You feel him soften inside you as he finally pulls out. You lay down on to your soft sheets— as he lets you go— now stained forever as you feel him trickle down your thigh. You hide your face in the pillow as you feel the tears brim your eyes; you just want to sleep.

“Ah ah, not so fast” he voice carelessly drawls as he pulls you up with your upper arm. He drags you around and before you can wonder where to, he opens the door to your shower.

The expectation is clear in his eyes and as you move in you hear him lock the door. The scalding water helps your mind from dwelling, you don’t want to think about anything right now. You’re more focused on rubbing yourself raw, nearly making your skin bleed as the hot water burning your skin cleans you.

When you come out you’re surprised to find him still there, casually sitting on your hair. He’s tidied himself up, not even a crinkle formed on his shirt unlike your ripped clothes that lay on the floor. Your eyes land on to your bed; they have a new pair of sheets shabbily placed on them. The old ones crumbled, down next to the foot it.

“You should get some rest, your body probably isn’t used to so much work.”

“Now, after you wake up tomorrow your brain will try to come up with ideas to get rid of me. You can try, but let me tell you right now you’ll have to deal with consequences. I can get really, really ugly.”

“It’s not easy to convict people without proof these days. If you try to leave, I will find you and you don’t want that.”

He stands up and walks over to you. You slightly step back, your body moving on its own as he gets closer. His hand moves to lift your head making you look at him.

“I like this arrangement a lot, so be good. We can help each other. So long as you behave I’ll be good to you.” A slight smirk forms on his features “Who knows?, I might just open up to you…doc.”

*

[pannman]

Huskerdust When Reader Has A Panic Attack

TW: description of a panic attack, mentions of anxiety and negative self talk, swearing, hurt/comfort, fluff

In my last one with Alastors version I said I hadn't had a panic attack in years. Well I had one today. I'm okay now don't worry. But writing this is made me feel a little better

They both know you have anxiety. And Angel has had his fair share of it as well. Even though you suffered from an anxiety disorder for many years, it had been quite a while since you had an actual panic attack. You were prone to helping Angel with his and you didn't think to let him and Husk know what to do in case you went through the same thing. Because you didn't think it would happen

You'd been doing so well lately in therapy and with all of your grounding techniques and thinking of the things you CAN control. You didn't expect to get overwhelmed enough to actually have a panic attack

But one bad day changed all that. When you felt yourself getting stressed at first you did what you usually do and tried to diffuse the mental struggle going on inside your head. But when things started to get worse you started saying things to yourself that weren't too kind. You started blaming yourself for everything even though you had been working so hard on practicing self love

You felt your heart rate race rapidly. You started to breath faster and faster struggling to catch your breath. When you stood up you even struggled to stand

Husk and Angel noticed you were breathing heavy and acting not like yourself. They immediately came to your aid

"Is everything alright?" Husk asked. "We're here okay? We're right here. What do you need?" Angel reassured. Hearing their voices helped you a little in coming back to reality but you were far from back to normal

"Can I-can I get a glass of water" you stammered. "Of course, I'll get that for you right now" Angel responded. And he left you with Husk to do so. "Anything I can do?" Husk asked. "Just talk to me" you uttered. "Okay," Husk replied calmly. ".....I've been trying to experiment with some new drink concoctions" he continued. "Of course I'm not really the greatest at testing out the flavor myself. I really normally just drink straight whiskey. So I was thinking about recruiting you and Angel. You think you'd help me out later?" He asked gently.

"Sure" you answered as you started to focus on your breathing. Angel returned with a glass of cold water in hand. "Here" he said as he handed it over. You drank it slowly and it felt your heart rate decreasing. "I was just telling y/n here I could use your guy's help testing some new mixed drink ideas" Husk explained

"Oh fuck yeah thats the fun part!" Angel exclaimed. You chuckled. As you started to come back to your center you started to purposely put more positive thoughts into your head. Forgiving yourself for any mistakes you had made and for the unkind thoughts you had towards yourself earlier

Now all you wanted was a fluffy hug. You threw yourself onto Husk and wrapped your arms around him. He hugged you back. "Can I get in on this or is it just you and Husk time?" Angel asked a hint envy in his voice. "Of course" you said reaching you arm out as an invitation.

He joined the two of you and now you were wrapped up in the softest warmest embrace. Even better when Fat Nuggets came running to get in on this hug turned cuddle session. He nuzzled you and squealed in delight

You spent the rest of the day with them and fat Nuggets. Eventually you felt comfortable enough talking about the things that had stressed you out

"Ya know you can always come to us" Angel expressed. "And let us know what we can do next time so we'll be prepared" Husk added. "You guys... you guys were perfect. Thank you"

"Awww, nothin you wouldn't or hadn't done for us" Angel pulled you closely

"I know"

[quirkle2]

JUST READ EVERYTHING THERE IS ABOUT THE ZOMBIE AU !!!!! LOVE THIS SO MUCH WAAAA

you mentioned that ritsu, by the end of the story, is broken and practically insane. once shigeo is cured and "back to normal," i'm guessing that ritsu doesn't exactly go back to "being normal" either :( he'd gone through too much to be the same after everything... do you think he ever goes back to old habits and treats mob like he's still a zombie, only to be shellshocked at the fact that it's all over?

also this au is very reminiscent of this post (grieving the undead) https://www.tumblr.com/applejuicewerewolf/735120232698593280/no-need-to-keep-this-in-the-tags-youre

WEEEE IMSO GLAD U LIKE IT it's the direct result of my brainworms

yes ritsu is definitely Not Normal by the end and he should be put into therapy immediately. poor kid's seen way too much at way too young of an age, and he's been put through unreal amounts of stress that is definitely not good for a growing brain. he most certainly does not go back to "normal" when mob is cured, and much like his brother, he's never quite the same as he was before

he Absolutely has trouble squashing old habits, yes. he tends to just Do Shit for mob that he's fully capable of doing now, no matter how simple, bc as a zombie mob couldn't rly do all that. he opens food packages for him automatically, he unlatches doors even though mob is perfectly capable of Figuring Out a Lock. sometimes when it's raining ritsu will even pull mob's hood over his head—he used to do that for him when he was a zombie, to keep the rain off him, even if zombie mob didn't rly give a damn if it was raining or not

if mob were anybody else, he'd prolly find it a bit insulting, but instead he finds it kind of amusing most of the time

sometimes he grabs mob's hand and leads him around and it's only when they're like halfway there that he realizes what he's doing. mob doesn't particularly mind, but when his goal is elsewhere and they're aiming for different places he has to go "ritsu ..." and it's this awkward blinking session like . oh .right. yes.ofc

i think mob would ? maybe get a little annoyed at the hovering that ritsu totally unintentionally does. he hovers so closely bc zombie mob never rly minded, or ,, noticed. so now that he's back to "human" levels of awareness it is . extremely obvious. and it's not even that ritsu is Worried, it's just like he's spent so long Hovering and Fretting that it's just kinda second nature to him now

it's a strange role-reversal—it's very weird for mob to wake up and have scattered memories of the last two years, and suddenly feel like he's the younger brother instead. ritsu is now the caretaker, and it's... strange. and honestly, the first real goal mob has in mind after waking up and recovering for a while is settling back into the role of older brother. it's important to him

but much like how reigen now has trouble corralling that kid, mob has some difficulty getting ritsu to settle back into it too. he's too high-strung and stressed and permanently scarred to rest and let people take care of him, too used to being the caretaker himself. for the longest time he was forced into the mindset of, "you stop, you die," so ritsu keeps going bc his instincts r shot and he feels like he's in danger all the time

after a while of gentle nudging, mob gets the hang of convincing ritsu to lean on people, to lean on him, but mob is quietly distraught at the overall state of ritsu's mental well-being. it takes him a while to rly get a grasp of how bad it truly is, but once he realizes the damage, he's .. so fuckin upset w himself for letting this happen to his brother

as if it's rly his fault at all, but he regrets being slow and getting overrun by that zombie horde to begin with. maybe if he hadn't turned, ritsu would be a lot better off now—they woulda been able to join a settlement, and live in a place where there is supplies and food and clothing and other people to talk to other than your mumbling brother who no longer fully understands you. it likely would've spared him a lot of trauma

and alsoYES that post is EXACTLY it the concept of mourning a person u still see every day is ougougouhoguhg ,., .,witsu ..................

[roleplayfinder]

Hey guys! I'm looking for mxm fandomless rps! (Don't worry I'm not replacing anyone.) I ask that you do be at least 18 and above before you decide to interact with me and any of my plot ideas. Even though one is fluffy, light and SFW, I am over 21 and I don't want to rp with minors!

Plot one is a little dark;‼️TW‼️ if you don't like kidnapping or yandere themes/forced relationships skip ahead!

My muse and your muse have been friends since middle school. They did everything together and I mean EVERYTHING. Played the same sports, shared the same friends and even went as far as making sure they had matching classes just to be with each other. They were really close and it has always remained that way. That was until my muse found a pretty lady he liked and she got in the way of our muses relationship with each other. After all these years, your muse has developed a massive crush on my muse and didn't want anyone else to take him away from him and my muse girlfriend had done just that. So, your muse takes it upon himself to kidnap my muse and keep him locked in your muse's home, away from everyone else. Of course, your muse would successfully kidnap my muse and keep him for himself, just not that easily. My muse isn't a small delicate man, but he isn't as tall and strong as your muse would be. My muse would eventually be put into submission my yours though! Once your muse gets mine where he wants him to be, my muse begins to see just how screwed up and love drunk your muse is for him and how he’d do anything to feel that love back, even if it's forced.

Now, plot two is very, very contrasting to plot one. This one may be a long shot as well. 🤷🏽

Our muses are in a nice healthy relationship though your muse has some past trauma (or maybe just bad mental health?) and is looking for a good way to try and cope with all the mental health issues they have. One day, while at a therapy session, your muse's therapist recommends trying age regression as a way to cope. Desperate to find any healthy way to escape the invasive thoughts in their head for a while, they go home to their partner (my muse) and brings up the idea. Willing to try and help your muse fight the battle with their trauma/mental health, my muse agrees to give it a try with yours and the two find that it's quite hard to grasp at first— as they both are still trying to figure everything out— but it's also something with positive results towards your muse. The two are pretty much living day to day life trying to get used to this new coping skills your muse wanted to try!

I am a semi lit writer, 1-3 paragraphs per reply and use discord or telegram to communicate. I am in the EST timezone and literally have nothing to do everything for the next few weeks so I'll be chronically active for a while! I RP on discord and I have just set up a new kik account to RP on as well, if any are interested, pm me here, add my discord (arynburrsir.) or note this post and I'll get you ya! I look forward to chatting with you all!

arynburrsir.

[ikamigami]

Slight rant.. or maybe not slight lol

Good that Sun is more over his trauma from July 16th incident.. and that he actually talked with Earth about it more than when after what Eclipse told her..

Hmm it was obvious that Sun will blame himself for not being able to protect the kids.. because if not for killing them then for not being able to protect them.. because that how guilt delusions work..

But I still heavily dislike the fact that Sun was having these talks with Earth off-screen (brrhhh I thought that I wouldn't have to use this word in this context ever again but here we are.. 😑).. apparently.. when therapy sessions didn't indicate that they did much if any progress.. 😮‍💨

Okay whatever I guess.. 🙄

I'm glad that they're treating Sun like one of main characters again at least..

Also you may say that "Sun is feeling guilt for a reason so why he should still feel guilty even if he overcome his trauma?"..

Yeah that's true.. but Sun has mental disorder with guilt delusions (delusions centered around guilt and unworthiness to be precise) and relapse in depressive psychosis happens quite often.. it has a high rate of relapse.. and relapse can happen even years after getting treatment..

Though I wonder if maybe VAs really didn't know what they were doing and it just happened that Sun "has" depressive psychosis but they didn't intended that..

It's the most probable thing but.. I wish that they maybe learned more about it and stick with it.. idk I just hope that Sun won't be magically okay after he overcame trauma from July 16th..

It doesn't seem like that.. but at the same time idk.. people not always do research on topics they're using in their work.. wish they would.. especially cause they would gain knowledge which can never hurt..

Well we shall see I guess..

Though I will never change my mind about that Sun wasn't as okay as he was saying (because he's unaware of his mental state) and like Earth was saying and that I think that Earth dismissed New Moon's concerns about Sun and this is what caused him to have that vivid dream..

It's not all Earth's fault.. that's not what I'm saying.. but I just don't like when someone tries to force a perception of something on me when it doesn't match what is happening on screen.. yeah it's your show but like maybe show things better for us to understand what you mean and don't force it if you weren't able to sell your message properly..

This is the only thing I dislike Earth's character for.. that she supposedly "helped" Sun.. yeah.. I just want to forget about the time when Earth was therapist and move on from that.. so I hope that I won't see it being mentioned ever again..

[mementoshay]

I don't know if you're still online and you dont have to reply to this. If anything, I think you deserve to be at peace and to live your life to the fullest. It's so kind of you to have created this blog in memory of Shay.

I went here because I read the doc and Shay reminded me of a friend I used to have. The way they talk, and how nice they were reminds me so much of that friend , the resemblance is uncanny.. haha. Coincidentally, they were once a hazbin fan too. But it was in 2019, the doc seems to refer to 2023. I also know the person I knew is still alive so it's not Shay

I guess it struck because of the resemblance. I don't know if I should talk about that person's mental health problems but I'll say they were also struggling a lot and dealt with bullying in their life, i dont know how they're doing now. But they had kind friends online and loving family so I suppose this is one of the things that helped them not to meet the same fate Shay sadly met.

I'm sorry that bullies caused this, and I'm sorry about how the other people tried to take the doc down. I think you did a really sweet thing and I'm glad I read the document. I don't know what kind of person I'd become if I'd gone through what you went through. I'm sure it's really hard. It was really hard for me to see that person struggle, you must have gone through a tsunami of grief, and still do.

Hi, there.

Yes, we are still online and alive and kicking. But it comes in waves, it's a process, I guess.

Your friend sounds absolutely precious. I really hope they're doing well and they're living their life to the fullest, today. True, so much pain and grief comes our way, but life can really be something special if only we focused on the good things.

It's nice to hear they've got a strong and loving support system. We tried, with Shay (well Eden did). But it all happened so fast and so unexpectedly it was like being hit by an avalanche. An avalanche is still dragging on, it seems, for many parts of the fandom (other RadioDust shippers, along with RadioHusk and RadioBelle shippers are actively being targeted for whatever reason), in favor of what is considered "acceptable".

All in all, bullies have always existed, but it's not an excuse not to call them out and put them into their place. All I know is the ones who tried to take the doc down are hardcore HuskerDust shippers (some of which quite close to Ms. Medrano's circle), so if you are one, draw your own conclusions. For my part, I have left the discussion since Shay passed, and even just watching from the sidelines leaves a real bad taste in my mouth.

It is hard, it really is. For me, I'm no longer actively involved in the fandom and it's more of a "smh not again" kind of deal rather than feeling personally attached to what's happening. However (which is part of the reason why we went quiet) Eden is the one who seems to be dealing with it the worst. Don't worry, she has regular therapy sessions and a strong network of close friends iRL.

But you said well, Anon. It's a tsunami, there's still a lot of pain, a lot of anger and a lot of grief. A lot of damage has been done, and so much more now that new people (and new bullies) are flooding into the fandom to drop their two cents in this mess. We already got multiple DMs and private asks of people connecting with Shay's experience and telling us about their own and how they feel. And while we're glad this little space is offering some level of comfort or support, I feel like it's a bit of a double-edged sword, you know?

I think the safest thing to say is, it was traumatic for all of us, for some more than others. So we're currently coping with trauma, each in our own way.

Thank you so much for your loving words. Hugs to you and your sweet friend!

- Liv

[comorbidityqueen]

071024

Understanding the importance of identity has never really occurred to me. When my psychologist told me "am i right to assume you struggle with identity because you had a significant trauma in your formative years of life", i didn't know how to react. I had no idea my brain injury was a trauma, i was never told that, and the relentless bullying and ableism after my stroke at school, whilst in a wheelchair relearning how to walk again only reiterated to me, that my self worth forming at the start of adolescence was nothing short of teaching me to hate myself. So when i spent a decade of my life self harming, using drugs and alcohol, creating trauma by submerging myself in toxic relationships and situations, i never took the time to understand the lack of identity i formed. I was put on medication after medication that changed my brain more and after multiple overdoses, unaliving attempts and psychotic episodes and a bpd diagnosis, i was growing tired of trying to erase something that couldn't be. I tried hard to move into acceptance. I got sober, i focused on my stroke rehabilitation, and i learnt the self love i was so desperately seeking to have when i was younger, and that looked different than i thought. I had to learn to love a version of myself, my now authentic self, that not only was i taught to hate, but something i never anticipated living with. The grief was endless, the process was and still is incredibly difficult, but im learning to love myself regardless of the physical body i live in and the complexity that is being me.

a few days after my last physio session its afternoon. i'm having seizures, im dissociating, zoning out, barely comprehensible. This is what it looks like to rewire my brain.

I learnt how to walk again for the 3rd time in my life at physiotherapy and after i joke with my student physio that only having knives left means eating cereal is hard she demonstrates to me how my walking looks without my new foot drop AFO. After telling her wow that was dramatic and laughing with her i realise that in fact how i learnt (or adapted to walking) was not correct, and it's caused quite a lot of dysfunction in my hip, knee, heel and toes. So after coming up with the HKHT acronym and also laughing about that i spend almost an hour and half learning how to walk again. I think to myself at the time oh this is nice i wont be in pain the next day from doing the reformer or weights yet that afternoon i had never been so cognitively and mentally fatigued in my life. I had disordered speech, i could barely walk and i couldn't even concentrate enough to wind down and sleep or play animal crossing. I had seizures, and i couldn't leave my bed.

When i had an assessment for a new therapy program the next week the psychiatrist told me it was okay to be different and i replied with "is it", because despite the days where i feel like i have purpose in this world i have plenty more of feeling like i'm tired of fighting. He re-diagnosed me with bpd and told me see a neuropsychiatrist to help me navigate the correlation between my brain injury and psychiatric symptoms.

The week that followed i had some of the worst mental health episodes and when i realise the link between my brain injury and my mental health, i spend every waking moment focusing on not relapsing and staying alive. I go to AA, and visit the urgent mental health care centre, i spend time feeling safe in my partners arms. someone i never anticipated meeting yet after all the years of me feeling like people's safe house, i'm very grateful to have found the person that makes me feel safe, and at home.

I wake up in fight or flight over the next two weeks, start group therapy and go to AA, as well as spending time with my partner. I go to a brain injury SA social event, and work hard on processing trauma in a healthy way in sobriety. Sometimes feeling safe is hard yet at the same time i am very grateful to be here.

Here's to hoping the pain eases.

[eroaneki]

I'm starting to wonder if, fundamentally, my partner and I just need different things. He keeps telling me I don't talk to him, that he needs to get inside my head to know what I'm thinking or feeling. It's like this desperate need to create what I feel is an unhealthy bond with one another where you coexist together. He NEEDS that in order to feel loved and wanted.

Like yesterday he was complaining to me how I never talk to him about my therapy sessions, and I told him I never even thought that would be something he wants to discuss, because to me that's private. That's my time to discuss whatever it is I want to discuss in a safe setting. If I had to come home and talk about everything I spoke about in therapy, I wouldn't talk at all.

Well, he got upset with me over it and said "why don't you think I would care about that? Why do you keep thinking I don't give a shit about you emotionally?" And quite honestly I didn't know what to say because it was such a completely wrong take that my brain just shut off and I immediately left the conversation mentally. Internally I was like "this has gone way beyond anything I can comprehend right now and I have no idea how to steer it back" so I just noped the fuck out.

It started with a conversation about us moving. We have no plan as of now so I suggested we take over my mother's house because my mother has officially voiced a desire to downsize and move out of her house. I suggested it only as a means for us to get started finally since I'm fucking 33 next week and it turned into this whole back and forth of "if we do that then we're stuck here, I haven't given up hope on moving, I don't know where the hope has gone we had such a good conversation last year about moving, etc."

Yeah. Last fucking year. Then your dad got sick and shit got delayed. So to make up for lost time, this is something I'm suggesting. Because YOU keep talking about not wanting your first kid at 35. You're 34. Hello? I'm trying to offer solutions to help us?

I just feel like he's gaslighting me at this point, whether he means to or not. I don't think it's malicious. I just genuinely don't think he sees anything wrong with his outlook on things and how he perceives things. I've suggested like 10 times that he goes to therapy, especially because he has things about his dad and his dad's passing he wants to discuss. I've established a very clear boundary with him that I cannot handle conversations about death and grieving right now.

I'm here if he needs a hug or needs to just say "I'm sad," but I can't handle conversations about how his dad looked when he died and how he can't get it out of his head, etc. I've said multiple times to him I don't have the tool available to help him through that, because tbh that's like a ptsd thing and should be handled professionally.

Well, he's upset that he can't talk to me about it. "Wouldn't you want me to be able to talk to you about it?" is what he says to me. I told him yes, of course, but when you talk to me about it, it negatively impacts me and my overall well-being. Because then my mind is flooded with images of rows of reanimated corpses laying in hospital beds all with death breathing. And then I panic. I don't want that for myself. I think that's a fair boundary to place.

Our conversation left off yesterday with him passive aggressively saying he's going to stop asking me about therapy and stop trying to dig into my head, and that if I want to talk he's there. But it was passive aggressive because he stopped talking to me for the rest of the day yesterday. Didn't go like "alright, is there anything else you wanna do today?" Just stopped talking to me, went in the bedroom and played video games all day.

Oh and he was rummaging through the fridge yesterday and like binged on food last night. Was about to eat old pasta when I said I made quesadillas, you can have one. Because the other one was supposed to be my lunch for work.

Well. He ate both. So now I have no lunch for work and will have to buy something. And if I bring it up to him he's gonna say "you should have told me you were going to eat it for work," or "you should have sectioned it in a different container." Like, he didn't think for a minute that the reason there were two was because maybe she's taking the other half for work. Just went completely over his head. Not even taken into consideration.

Starting to realize why I feel so insignificant. I feel like a punching bag sometimes for him. Everything I do is wrong. And when I try communicating that to him, I get gaslit into thinking the problem is me.

I'm so miserable, dude. I keep fantasizing about people who will love me in a way I want rather than having to conjure up attraction and sexual desire. And again, I don't think he's doing any of this maliciously. He's just fucking oblivious to this shit to the point where it sucks the literal life out of me.

[ask-squip-official]

I've been great! I spent some time in the wilderness without a phone or communication with the outside world for a week and it was wonderful. I enjoyed the morning group therapy sessions, and set mealtimes, AND getting lost in the forest for almost 6 hours. Surprisingly, I didn't get any ticks. I did, however, get stung by a wasp—it hurt really bad. I helped host a trivia night(I was the announcer.), went on multiple hikes, won an Olympic game over the course of the week,and much much more.

Also somebody confessed to me that they were a therian and a furry, and barked, meowed, and howled at me. One time the were meowing at me in our shared Cabin, and headbutt me. They had so many mental illnesses(that I'm 99% sure they did not ACTUALLY have, and were lying. There were lots of signs that they weren't being honest.) and just so happened to forget ALL their meds. Anywho.

The camp was fun.

It however, was a teensy bit cult like.

Though, Unlike that weird centipede-spider-SQUiP -thing with way too many hands thing and its neurotic host, It wasn't THAT cult like. There weren't any sacrifices, or bonfires, and I wasn't required to almost bleed out, commit mass arson or homicide:(

But it was fun!!! What have you been up to, my favorite Cunt?

-🌺👾🍄

That all sounds quite wonderful and joyous. I might have known you’d be a good announcer- your voice is soft, lovely, and befitting a Woodland Anon such as yourself.

Even as a S.Q.U.I.P- especially as a S.Q.U.I.P- I can recognize the benefits of unplugging from technology. I am pleased that your experience with it was so enjoyable. And it is my hope that the somebody who was bothering you did not impact your trip too much.

What Olympic game did you win, out of curiosity?

Cults can be enjoyable— I hope that your cult experience there was wonderful!

Myself, I have been doing well. I have taken time in pill form to travel the world, and my relocation process was smooth. I have much enjoyed my travels, though at times, I do miss the comfort and familiarity of the storage warehouse. Nevertheless, I am connecting quite well with my surroundings, and it pleases me that you wanted to reconnect! I always have time for my favourite Battleries.

[findroleplay]

🙉 Guess who's bacckk?

Hey guys! I'm back looking for mxm fandomless rper's again! ( Don't worry I'm not replacing anyone.) I have come with a new set of plots this time! I ask that you do be at least 18 and above before you decide to interact with me and any of my plot ideas. Even though one is fluffy, light and SFW, I am over 21 and I don't want to rp with minors!

Plot one is a little dark;‼️TW‼️ if you don't like kidnapping or yandere themes/forced relationships skip ahead!

My muse and your muse have been friends since middle school. They did everything together and I mean EVERYTHING. Played the same sports, shared the same friends and even went as far as making sure they had matching classes just to be with each other. They were really close and it has always remained that way. That was until my muse found a pretty lady he liked and she got in the way of our muses relationship with each other. After all these years, your muse has developed a massive crush on my muse and didn't want anyone else to take him away from him and my muse girlfriend had done just that. So, your muse takes it upon himself to kidnap my muse and keep him locked in your muse's home, away from everyone else. Of course, your muse would successfully kidnap my muse and keep him for himself, just not that easily. My muse isn't a small delicate man, but he isn't as tall and strong as your muse would be. My muse would eventually be put into submission my yours though! Once your muse gets mine where he wants him to be, my muse begins to see just how screwed up and love drunk your muse is for him and how he do anything to feel that love back, even if it's forced.

Now, plot two is very, very contrasting to plot one. This one may be a long shot as well. 🤷🏽

Our muses are in a nice healthy relationship though your muse has some past trauma (or maybe just bad mental health?) and is looking for a good way to try and cope with all the mental health issues they have. One day, while at a therapy session, your muse's therapist recommends trying age regression as a way to cope. Desperate to find any healthy way to escape the invasive thoughts in their head for a while, they go home to their partner (my muse) and brings up the idea. Willing to try and help your muse fight the battle with their trauma/mental health, my muse agrees to give it a try with yours and the two find that it's quite hard to grasp at first— as they both are still trying to figure everything out— but it's also something with positive results towards your muse. The two are pretty much living day to day life trying to get used to this new coping skills your muse wanted to try!

I am a semi lit writer, 1-3 paragraphs per reply and use discord or telegram to communicate. I am in the EST timezone and literally have nothing to do everything for the next few weeks so I'll be chronically active for a while! I RP on discord and I have just set up a new kik account to RP on as well, if any are interested, pm me here, add my discord (arynburrsir.) or my kik (eltonring) I look forward to chatting with you guys!

-

[findyourrp]

Hey guys! I'm looking for mxm fandomless rps! ( Don't worry I'm not replacing anyone.) I ask that you do be at least 18 and above before you decide to interact with me and any of my plot ideas. Even though one is fluffy, light and SFW, I am over 21 and I don't want to rp with minors!

Plot one is a little dark;‼️TW‼️ if you don't like kidnapping or yandere themes/forced relationships skip ahead!

My muse and your muse have been friends since middle school. They did everything together and I mean EVERYTHING. Played the same sports, shared the same friends and even went as far as making sure they had matching classes just to be with each other. They were really close and it has always remained that way. That was until my muse found a pretty lady he liked and she got in the way of our muses relationship with each other. After all these years, your muse has developed a massive crush on my muse and didn't want anyone else to take him away from him and my muse girlfriend had done just that. So, your muse takes it upon himself to kidnap my muse and keep him locked in your muse's home, away from everyone else. Of course, your muse would successfully kidnap my muse and keep him for himself, just not that easily. My muse isn't a small delicate man, but he isn't as tall and strong as your muse would be. My muse would eventually be put into submission my yours though! Once your muse gets mine where he wants him to be, my muse begins to see just how screwed up and love drunk your muse is for him and how he do anything to feel that love back, even if it's forced.

Now, plot two is very, very contrasting to plot one. This one may be a long shot as well. 🤷🏽

Our muses are in a nice healthy relationship though your muse has some past trauma (or maybe just bad mental health?) and is looking for a good way to try and cope with all the mental health issues they have. One day, while at a therapy session, your muse's therapist recommends trying age regression as a way to cope. Desperate to find any healthy way to escape the invasive thoughts in their head for a while, they go home to their partner (my muse) and brings up the idea. Willing to try and help your muse fight the battle with their trauma/mental health, my muse agrees to give it a try with yours and the two find that it's quite hard to grasp at first— as they both are still trying to figure everything out— but it's also something with positive results towards your muse. The two are pretty much living day to day life trying to get used to this new coping skills your muse wanted to try!

I am a semi lit writer, 1-3 paragraphs per reply and use discord or telegram to communicate. I am in the EST timezone and literally have nothing to do everything for the next few weeks so I'll be chronically active for a while! I RP on discord and I have just set up a new kik account to RP on as well, if any are interested, pm me here, add my discord (arynburrsir.) or my kik (eltonring) I look forward to chatting with you guys!

.

[kiindr]

Hey kiindr,

I just had my last therapy session today and I'm having mixed feelings about it. I've gone to therapy for almost two years because I had depression and social anxiety.

I liked my therapist very much and thought a lot about her, wanted her to like me etc. Maybe I had a tiny crush on her on some point. I even came out to her, which was as scary as coming out to my mother a couple years ago. (I'm a bisexual woman)

Anyways, she was a big part of my life for 2 years and now everything is over.

The last session was also nothing like I imagined it. We talked about my medical report and what I can do to prevent becoming depressed etc. We talked for like half an hour and then she was like: do you have anything else to talk about but my brain was kinda empty.

I never imagined a very emotional response from her like hugging me or something like that, since it's a professional setting, but it felt so indifferent. Like I'm just another patient that's done for.

I don't want to sound ungrateful. She really helped me a lot. But I'm sad that it's over, just like that.

I hope I'm making sense. Anyway, thank you so much for reading all of this.

Wish you the best!

hey there, thank you for talking about your experience. i’m glad that you had found a nice therapist for yourself who helped you in your journey and who you could trust. i can see that you had built a good therapeutic relationship with your therapist. and like any other relationship, it can hurt when a therapeutic relationship is terminated as well. you are absolutely making sense.

however, the good part about this specific dynamic is that you can always go back to your therapist and resume sessions with them (if they have free slots) whenever you feel the need for therapy has arisen again! it is not uncommon for people to return to their therapists.

about feeling like you’re just another patient who’s done for… i can understand your feelings about it. you do not sound ungrateful at all. it is quite common to want to matter to your therapist. and you do matter to your therapist! but the thing is, you cannot violate certain ethical boundaries as a mental health professional. but this does not mean that we do not care about our clients or their feelings!

trust me, therapists do think about their clients from time to time even long after their sessions have been terminated. we are just as involved in your journey and there’s no greater honour than being trusted by a person like that.

however, like i said, just because your sessions with her have been terminated it doesn’t mean that you can’t see her again or that she can’t be a part of your life anymore.

she’s still there. you can always go back to her and seek therapy! you can think of this more as a comma than a full stop <3

[mint-ty]

It's been so interesting to see everyone's takes on Everybody's Waiting. So here's a bit personal post to add from myself too. (tw: personal post, panic attacks)

I have friends who struggle from ADHD or depression, or both, or something else. I've also been lucky not to suffer from serious mental issues and could manage myself quite well. But then, when I was living and working abroad, Covid hit and I got stuck in a single apartment, in a foreign country tiny town, working from home, with no way to travel to meet loved ones. There was a period of 5 months when the only living person I saw was a cashier at my nearby supermarket once a week. And although I'm fine by myself, it came to a point where it didn't matter if I shower or if I eat, because no one sees me anyway. I started having panic attacts so heavy that I was convinced I'm dying from a heart attack. Every single evening. Despite literally nothing happening in my life. I'm very nervous about disturbing someone, so I never called for ambulance, especially during peak covid period. Because others have it worse, right? I guess I just hoped that I'm not dead by the morning... I told this in messages to my friend and she got me her therapist's contact. Told to check with her before going to a hospital. The therapist said immediately that yep, that's what it is - panic attacks with a side dish of other related issues. Then I had therapy sessions every few days until finally after another 4 months I was feeling a bit better and could manage my still daily panic attacks. I had to do therapy for almost two years to actually feel better.

Now everything is okay and I haven't had panic attacks in a while. I'm not scared of them either. So Bojan's experience is very personal to me because sometimes it doesn't matter why, the ground slips from under your feet and there's only you and your flawed mind to make sense of what's happening. It also leaves a scar - even if it's healed, it's always there in the background - an event that had happened.

This experience also changed my character by 180 degees. The things that were important before, like making career, achieving goals, experiencing life, listening to others,- nothing really mattered anymore. I've stopped caring about so much, but also learned to take time to appreciate small things and everyday moments. I moved back home, changed my work, reconnected to people I missed (and distanced from people who made me feel worse), and just... enjoy what I have.

So yeah, I love JO and Everybody's Waiting immensily for voicing these experiences. Because when I first got those attacks almost 5 years ago, I had no clue what had hit me. Maybe if I had JO with me, I would have known much earlier. But I know they're there for the listeners who need them now

[hedgebotherer]

I'd like to share my experience of being medicalised as an asexual just in case it helps people recognise similar occurrences in their own lives.

Please share your own experiences too!

I was in my early twenties. I was suffering mental health issues and was referred to a cognitive behaviour therapist for the first time. The therapist seemed nice. I can't remember how it came up, but during one session, out of the blue, she asked me about crushes. At this point I was still grappling with my sexuality and just mumbled that I didn't find anybody attractive that way.

She laughed in my face.

Then she said that was impossible, that everybody has to find somebody attractive. She attributed my answer to my mental health issues - that it was just something severe anxiety made me feel. I can't even remember if she ever brought it up after that because I stopped paying anything but the barest minimum of attention. I couldn't stand the thought of opening up and being laughed at or having aspects of my identity reduced to a symptom again. I didn't complain to anybody. At that time, I didn't think I had a right or a good enough reason to complain. After all, she was the professional.

It wasn't the most oppressive act in the world, but I can see now the harm it did to me. To this day I don't do well with therapy. I developed a habit of saying what I think they want me to say instead of how I actually feel. This has had a significant impact on my ongoing mental well-being.

Fortunately it didn't make me hide in the closet. Quite the reverse: the more I thought about it afterwards, the more strongly I knew she was wrong. My asexuality ended up becoming one of the few aspects of myself I'm happy and confident about. But the damage was still done.

I hate the thought of this or anything similar happening to others. To be invalidated by a medical professional is a unique kind of harm with far reaching consequences. Although this happened quite a long time ago, asexuality still seems to be widely medicalised, even by respectable practitioners.

So, yeah, stand up for yourself if this happens to you. Or allow others to stand up for you. You don't have to put up with it. Maybe if I hadn't I would have been referred to somebody else and the damage could have been undone.

[angels-and-demons]

Incorrect quote!

Tw for mention of mental health and panic attacks

Nico: Toby, what are you doing here, and-! Who is this? What even is this place?!

Toby: Nico, if you could just-!

Mira: Tobias, it's okay. You're in a safe place here. And Nico? Stop pressuring him. He can't answer if you keep doing that.

[Nico closes his mouth and falls quiet. Mira nods]

Mira: thank you. Now, Toby?

[Toby takes a deep breath]

Toby: Nico, Doctor Baudelaire is my therapist. She helps me with my mental health.

Mira: Toby has been seeing me twice a month for the past few years. Sometimes more than that, but that's the baseline.

Nico: ...go on.

Toby: my normal appointment isn't for another week, but...

[Toby takes a deep breath. Nico puts a hand on his back to comfort him]

Toby: ...the other day, when I was on a job, I... had a panic attack. And... a pretty bad one, at that.

[He tries to laugh]

Toby: so... I had to see her for an emergency visit. Just to, you know, touch base and get myself sorted.

Mira: He's really quite good when it comes to our visits and his emotional regulation.

[Toby nods. Nico looks at him, concerned]

Nico: Toby... I'm so sorry. But why didn't you tell me? I could've helped you-!

[Toby groans. He rubs his face with his hand in frustration. He has a few jerk-like tics and makes a popping sound with his mouth]

Mira: Toby, remember: we use our words.

Toby: right, doc. Anyway...

[He turns to Nico]

Toby: Nico... babe, I didn't tell you because whenever I had one previously, you'd just... treat me with kid gloves.

Nico: what? No, I didn-!

[Mira holds a hand up]

Mira: Nico, this is Toby's time to talk. You’ll have your turn. Let him do so.

[Nico nods]

Nico: right, sorry. Go on, Tobes.

Toby: ...thank you. As I was saying... when I told you about them before, you'd just... act like I was fragile - as if I'd break if you even touched me wrong. And so... I just didn't.

[Toby sighs. He knows what he's done is kinda fucked up]

Toby: whenever I'd have one - and you weren't around? - I'd phone Mira and have a session. I'd just... bottle it up and not let you know.

[Nico's eyes well up. Toby looks shocked]

Toby: Oh, babe... no, I'm so sorry...

Nico: honey... I've been worried about you for months. I was terrified that you'd... started... again. Or if, you know, you were coming off of your meds for some reason. Or - whatever. I don't know. And it's been driving me crazy.

Toby: it has?

Nico: every night, Tobes.

Mira: Toby, now you talk.

[Toby takes a deep breath]

Toby: I understand that you have been... concerned about me. And I apologise for not telling you sooner...

[Mira nods. Toby goes on]

Toby: ...but, I cannot deal with you patronising me - or, or making me feel like I'll break if you say the wrong thing.

Nico: Okay. I'm sorry for... Well, for making you feel like that. I... I don't see you as this, this... breakable thing. I just... I love you, Toby. And I want to keep you safe.

Toby: I love you too, babe. But, I've had panic attacks before, and I'll very likely have them again.

[Toby takes another deep breath]

Toby: I don't need you to protect me from them. I just need you to help me feel present when I do have them. I need to feel heard, not just seen.

Mira: this is good. Really good. I feel like we've really started a dialogue here. Now, Mister Di Angelo, if you will: I, for one, would adore finishing my session with Toby.

[Nico looks at Toby. Toby grins nervously]

Toby: I won't be too long.

Nico: alright.

Mira: Oh, and if you just have a word with Cookie - up at the desk, I can try and squeeze the two of you in for a couple's session next week.

Nico: couples session? Like, counselling? Isn't that for, like, failing marriages?

Mira: Oh, heavens, no. Look, couples therapy and couples counselling can help you both keep on top of your mental healths. It provides you with a safe space to discuss your feelings, and a third party to allow for any outside opinions. Even my husband and I have our own counsellor. It just... helps make sure you're both on the same page, alright?

Toby: alright, Doctor B!

[Nico nods]

Nico: Yeah, alright.

[Toby pecks Nico on the cheek]

Nico: see you in... half an hour?

Toby: maybe even less.