#my therapist says that its not healthy to try and avoid every problem you have since you could end up isolating yourself | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

clearsky · 4 years

Text

My Top Comfort Characters/Kins and My Main HCs For Them

(Note, not all my kins/comfort characters are on here, just the ones I have more than 5 hcs for)

CW: Korekiyo Shinguji (DRV3), Himiko Yumeno (DRV3), Shinsou Hitoshi (BNHA), Kyoko Kirigiri (THH), Tsuyu Asui (BNHA), Entrapta (Spop), Ibuki Mioda (SDR2), Celestia Ludenberg (THH), Funtime Foxy (FNAF), Peril (WOF)

Korekiyo Shinguji (DRV3)

Nonbinary

He/They pronouns

Autistic

Chains and loose accessories are for stimming

Likes the feeling of silk and cotton

Can't stand the feeling of anything rough or bumpy

He likes collecting small trinkets and the bones of small mammals

Can't stand anything salty. He'll eat it but he certainly won't enjoy it

Dating Rantaro

Can flirt, but only if he doesn't try

Petnames are a hell yea

Gets sunburnt really easily

Group dates with Celesnaegiri and Ikuzono

Can't cook for s h i t

Had a scene kid phase in middle school

Went to the same middle school as Celeste and Maki

Knew them when Celeste went through her "I'm not like other girls" phase and Maki was a Band Kid™

Himiko Yumeno (DRV3)

Female

She/Her pronouns

Lesbian

Can force herself to fall asleep within seconds regardless of where she is

100% forces herself to fall asleep when she doesn't wanna listen/talk to someone

Himiko/Angie/Tenko relationship. I'm calling them the Traffic Light Trio

She likes taking naps in the forest

She prefers enclosed/tight spaces more than open ones

Has several hundred stress balls and squishies laying around

She overheats easy

Shinsou Hitoshi (BNHA)

Questioning his gender, but goes by any pronouns

Knows he's Asexual, at least

Has no clue what his romantic orientation is though

The kind of person to carry treats in his pocket just in case he runs into a cat

Will stop to pet literally every cat he comes across

Great at reading people

Doesn't talk unless it's 100% needed

Hangs with Tokoyami, Jirou, and Denki most often

Aizawa has 100% unofficially adopted him

Fosters kittens

Not a big fan of physical touch

He is 100% in the bakusquad. Anyone who says he's in the Dekusquad is a c o w a r d

He and Tsuyu vibe

Knows a bunch of random facts

Dark humour? Dark humour

*skates backwards into his therapist's room slowly sipping from an absurdly huge cup of coffee* Candice you're not gonna BELIEVE the shit I just went through

In case I forgot to mention it, he skates

Kyoko Kirigiri (THH)

Mtf

She/Her

Bi with female preference

Burns go up to her shoulders/collarbone/chest

Prefers to just listen as opposed to saying anything

Knows a ton of random trivia about everyone else in her class

She keeps a notebook she fills with all the trivia

Doesn't celebrate her birthday. She just doesn't see the point of it

Doesn't hate sugar/sweets, but if given the choice she would choose literally everything else

Cuts her own hair

A cat person

Permanent dark circles

T-Tall 😳

Like,,, 6'1 at LEAST

Only person taller than her is Yasuhiro (6'3)

Canon no longer exist

Ahahaha healthy life habits? What are those?

Can't handle horror games

She's the kind of person you'd go to if you needed to rant but didn't want any advice

Polyamourous yo

Celeste/Kyoko/Makoto

She's a dom yall are just scared to admit it

Tsuyu Asui (BNHA)

They go by They/Them

Lesbian

They and Ochaco are dating

They like to hang with Shinsou

Which mainly just means the two sitting in one of their dorms in near total silence doing whatever

Can speak English and French as well as Japanese

Learned English from cartoons

Picked up French bc they thought it'd be fun

Prefers to stay neutral in the whole Bakusquad / Dekusquad thing

They're invited to all outings/events by/for both squads

They like puns

They're a dumbass but willingly, and for fun

Like "someone says they like dark humour and they'll turn off the lights before telling a joke" kind dumbass for fun

Great at poker

Likes Disney Movies

Very touchy once you get close enough

Not in a sexual way, just likes physical contact

Especially fond of piggyback rides and cuddles

Extreme fear of needles

Entrapta (She-Ra)

She/Her or It/Its

Doesn't bother trying to figure out whether she's cis, trans, nonbinary, or what

Was AMAB though

Short as fuck (4'7)

Strong as fuck though

Cuddle game strong

Physical touch is a fuck yes

Cuddles

Piggyback rides

Hugs

Anything where she's touching someone is wonderful in her book

As long as she's the one that initiates it

Anyone else touching her without her permission makes her freak

Prefers being high up

Makes it harder for anyone to sneak up on her

An ace at video games

When it comes to sexuality she just says she's Questioning

Ibuki Mioda (SDR2)

Any pronouns + Pup/Pupself + It/Its

No idea what their gender is otherwise

Biromantic Asexual

Just likes sexual jokes

Gets distracted easily

Has severe hearing problems

She's plays her instruments as loud as possible, with the amp right next to her, without ANY ear protection

It's caused some damage

She talks so loud bc she has no idea how loud is considered acceptable

Wears hearings aids most of the time

Several piercings and tattoos

Likes hearing things jingle

She has a bracelet with a few bells hanging from it

She'll shake it whenever she's bored

LOVES hair accessories

Ribbons are a particular favourite

Occasionally she'll hang little charms from her hair "horns"

The kind of person who never takes any pills/medicine bc she keeps forgetting she has to

Frequently uses emojis

Skates everywhere but she isn't very good at it

She keeps crashing into everything

Has broken every bone in her body at least 3 times

Most of which was bc she keeps trying to kick in doors and skating down the stairs

Celestia Ludenberg (THH)

Nonbinary

Any pronouns, mainly goes by She/They

Bi, 70:30

Collects mini hand sanitizers and can tabs

Has single handedly gotten Mario Kart, Mario Party, Monopoly, Uno, and Clue banned a grand total of 17 times (and counting)

The kind of person to purposefully target someone regardless of what game was being played

Favourite victim is Byakuya (bc he gets so upset about it and she finds that hilarious)

Mains Waluigi

Celeste/Kyoko/Makoto

Has several banned Twitter accounts bc whenever she's bored she'll start discourse on purpose

Hangs with Korekiyo, Ibuki, Byakuya, Yasuhiro, and Leon most often

It's a weird friend group but everyone's sorta gotten used to it

She and Byakuya gamble together occasionally

She tries to avoid it bc he'll willingly blow his entire fortune in an attempt to beat her

Autustic

Can't stand the feeling of water

Mainly bc she can't swim for shit

Horror movies? Hates them

Gets flustered super easily

Taka is her twin brother

Kotoko, Kokichi, and Gundham are their half siblings (Same father)

Peko and Toko are their cousins

She sucks ass at go fish

Fuck canon she's 4'11 now

C h u b b y

Freckles

Once she gets comfortable enough with herself she dyes her hair in the peekaboo style

Either black and red or black and blonde

Haven't decided yet

I'll be doing Celesnaegiri hcs as a seperate post but I just feel it's important for you to know that she expresses her affection verbally and is a very touchy person

Went to middle school with Maki and Korekiyo

Has horrible eyesight

She wears contacts most of the time but she always puts off buying more

After the 5th or so time she ended up blindly stumbling around a week after her contacts ran out Kyoko convinced her to buy glasses as well

Religious accessories yo

Like chokers and dangly earrings with crosses and pentagrams and shit

Likes wearing wacky earrings

Can run and do all sorts of tricks in heels

She and Mukuro are exes yo

Keeps her hair short so it's easier to manage

Hair never gets longer than her shoulders if she can help it

She seems like the kind of person who'd keep her bangs grown past her eyes regardless of how frustrating or inconvenient it is

She's a sub yall just don't wanna admit it

Funtime Foxy (FNAF)

I'm going on the record to say this

Funtime Foxy is genderfluid and that is that

Goes by Funtime

Any pronouns, They/Them most commonly

Plays music (keyboard and guitar mainly)

They and Funtime Freddy (Freds) mainly play with the kids

Freds mainly tells stories with Bonbon while Funtime more so plays one-on-one

Has nicknames for everyone

Circus Baby - Ringleader

Ballora - Bells

Funtime Freddy - Partner

Bon Bon - Bun

Peril (WOF)

I like both Nonbinary She/They Peril and Mtf She/Her Peril

They're both such good concepts

She's a lesbian, Harold

She only had a crush on Clay bc he was pretty much everything she was supposed to like in a guy

Gimme a moment while I force all my mental disorders onto this poor child

Autistic, Anxiety (Social anxiety, mainly, but she has most types), Adhd, PTSD

I'd like to reiterate yet again that She's a lesbian

Sunny and Glory were her gay awakening

Peril in Book 1: Damn, Sunny and Glory sure are pretty. Anyone would be lucky to date them. Clay would probably go for them over me. He would be stupid if he didn't. I myself would willingly date them over someone like me. They're just so pretty :(

Peril waking up in a cold sweat in the middle of arc 2: WAIT-

Rarepair alert but Peril/Sora

Peril meeting Sora: "Hmmm She's attractive. I would love to date her. Too bad I'm straight and in love with her brother lmao :P"

Peril, a mere month later, waiting for Ruby to leave Jade Mountain, pacing in her cave, running face first into a wall: WAIT-

I remember reading this one amazing story where Sora taught Peril to read/write and Peril found out she set off the bomb and comforted her/convinced her her run so that's canon now

Btw if anyone can remember what that story was called/what platform it was on and could tell me I'd appreciate it very much

I'd even be willing to draw a character of your's or make you an icon or something

I usually don't accept requests bc I get burnt out easy but this is a special case

She runs into Sora again sometime between the beginning of TOP and the end

I like to imagine she just goes wandering around

Anyway she confesses like a mere few minutes after running into her again bc Peril is just subtle like that

The actual confession takes 15 minutes and the entire time Sora is just sitting here like "👁👄👁 sure"

Bam Peril/Sora

Peril plans to keep it a secret for a little while longer but she spends 3 seconds around Clay and pretty much blurts it out

Clay, who wasn't even aware that Peril was a lesbian, is just "👁👄👁"

I wanna say Clay doesn't know what a lesbian is but in my canon Sunny is a lesbian so Starflight has already told him

Anyway he's super supportive

From that point Peril is sorta open about her sexuality?

Like, she gives Clay permission to tell the rest of the D.O.D bc she isn't about to risk being in front of them when they hear the news

(When Sunny starts actively seeking her out as a hang out buddy and Tsunami, Glory, and Starflight appear to tolerate her presence just a bit more afterwards she pretends she isn't confused by the change)

She's pink, white, and blue bc I said so

If you look at a certain angle in the right lighting her eyes, mouth, fire, and under her scales all look purple

But her fire is normally white and blue bc I said so

Also she pale as fuck bc in my canon their fire just sorta burns their colour away

You know how you leave something outside for too long and it gets sunbleached? Where it gets all washed out?

Like that but more extreme

By the age of 10-12 firescale dragons are just white with pale eyes

That's right not even the eyes are safe

Ram horns :P

I'm also fond of Peril/Sunny

Or maybe Peril/Sora/Sunny

But Peril/Sora is the main thing

On the topic of that bringing in my hc that if one sib in a sib group is fire resistant all of them are

She,,, She can change her scale colour

But only slightly and only if her emotions are strong enough

Bc I don't give a fuck about Darkstalker's scroll we were robbed of hybrid Peril

Unfortunately all of Peril's emotions are strong

Rainwing ruff along her head and neck

It's like a hood

It's mainly smoothed to her sides but when she's startled it flares out

RAINWING PUPILS

Y'all will know what those look like as soon as I get off my ass :P

She,,, She can mimic bird cries

Hates the summer

She has more than enough body heat already and the outside is just hot enough to add on and make her feel sick

She can somewhat control her heat but most of the time it's based on her emotions

It can go from standing-in-the-middle-of-a-burning-building-cant-see-your-nose-smoke-is-so-thick heat (Strong emotion) to Hey-thats-a-nice-cozy-campfire heat (Calm/"weak" emotion/Sleeping)

I'm just gonna make a different post with all my Peril hcs cuz there isnt enough room for all of them here

27 notes · View notes

worldwidebt7 · 3 years

Text

I... have no idea why I decided to write this— especially on this blog because... I don’t really consider this a personal blog...

I suppose I just needed to vent? Get my thoughts out and hope that someone listens? I love my husband but... it’s like talking to a wall when it comes to this topic 😅

So... what I’m talking about is poor body image and everything that comes with it.

And I guess this is the part where I place a trigger warning for— jeez— just, everything? Talking about eating disorders, self-deprivation, low self worth, self body shaming, negative thoughts... so, if you’re triggered by these topics or anything similar, please read no further.

So, I guess I should preface this with a disclaimer: I love who I am. I love my mind, and the way I think and analyze. I love the way I love the things I’m passionate about.

But I hate that I can’t love the way I look.

I want to. I want to be happy and confident in how I look, but every time I see myself in a reflection I veer away as fast as possible. I can give you every reason in the book, but I couldn’t tell you where my poor body image comes from.

As far back as I can remember I have been hiding in clothes two sizes too big for me. Anything that will shield my imperfections from the world. Hell, I’ve even been living for these mandatory masks because that gives me the ability to hide my face. The less that can been seen of me, the better. I suppose that’s because I assume the rest of the world will judge me as harshly as I judge myself.

I have this saying: “Go ahead and say what you want because it can’t be worse than what I already tell myself.”

Which is true. In fact, I actively avoid mirrors when I can. I don’t even own a full body mirror. I have two vanity mirrors that show my face from the neck up and there are more than enough issues just there to keep me occupied for an hour.

Owning a full length mirror would be... well, let’s just say the last time I looked at myself at length in one I cried and nearly broke my hand.

I am... overweight for my height and body type. And for myself. About 35lbs (15.88kg) to be precise. I’m 5’1” (155cm) and of a petite build. I should weigh in the 112lb (50.80)-121lb (54.88kg). I understand that each body has its own version of healthy, but I can physically feel the effects that the extra weight is having on my body.

I should add that I wasn’t always this heavy. In middle school and high school I was about average weight even if it was a little over the “ideal” and later I was in the spectrum of healthy weight for my size twice.

And neither time did I get there healthily.

The first time was out of my hands— I had been quite ill with Lyme disease for the first two years of my college life and I was spending 75% of my time asleep or too weak to move. Surprisingly, I actually GAINED weight at this time and was at the unruly weight I’m currently at today.

However, that changed drastically when doctors finally discovered the cause of my ailments and put me on aggressive medication for it. I had Lyme for two years— there was already irreparable damage to by body from it. I though the treatment would be the end.

Wrong.

The pills prescribed to me were meant to eliminate the disease as swiftly as possible and consequently made me more ill. I was throwing up two to three times a day and with that came a sensitive stomach and a nonexistent appetite. I loved off of bread and chocolate milk for a month because that’s all my stomach could keep down.

I lost 35lbs (15.88kg) in four weeks. My body was eating itself. I was weak. Every bone in my body hurt. My eyes were sunken in. I couldn’t eat because the bacteria in my stomach were so damaged.

But I was finally— FINALLY— skinny. My body had essentially transformed over night in my suffering and I felt like at least one good thing had come out of me being sick.

I began working out regularly trying to gain some of my muscle back and I toned up, I had definition and some of my energy back. And I continued to try and nurse myself back to health for the next year by slowly introducing more food into my meals. I was trying to do the right thing for my body, but I also wanted to keep the weight off.

This was the first... and the last time I was ever happy with my body.

It lasted little more than a year.

Once I was able to eat full meals again after quite some time, I gained all the weight back— and then some. I was the heaviest I had ever been and I was MISERABLE. I had gotten a taste of my version of “the perfect body” and I ate it away.

This is where the self-hatred really set in.

After I graduated college and broke up with my boyfriend, I decided to lose the weight again. The beginning was hard— not due to lack of motivation or knowledge (my mother had been a personal trainer) but because my metabolism had be irreparably damaged from the earlier events. And when I stopped seeing results, I cut back on calories.

And cut back again.

And again.

Until— finally— I had lost most of the weight again. And I was eating 300 calories or less a day. Preferably less. The less I ate, the more I complimented myself for restricting and having restraint.

“You did good today!”

“With this, you’ll definitely lose weight!”

“Look at how flat your stomach is!”

Of course my stomach was flat. I hadn’t eaten anything!

And all the kind, sweet words to myself were doing was reinforcing horrible, life-threatening habits that I still struggle with today.

This also went on for a year, and, while I wasn’t completely satisfied with how my body looked, it was the last time I can pinpoint where I was happy. And because I link that period of time to happiness, I now connect the eating disorder I had to contributing to it.

Flash forward to now— four and a half years later. I am back to my miserable weight. I feel like my body isn’t mine, and that it’s betrayed me. And I hate it.

I am still in constant pain from the joint damage caused my the Lyme disease. My stomach is still sensitive and I often feel ill after eating (whether this is a physical response or a psychological one at this point I cannot tell). And my metabolism has never recovered from what was now 9 years ago.

And I have tried to lose the weight again. I went to a personal trainer and that worked for a bit— I dropped 11lbs (4.99kg) in about four months and I was eating healthy. But then I plateaued. I was told I needed to eat more since I was doing weight lifting. So I ate more and the weight started coming back.

I tried intermittent fasting, and that worked for a time. But then I did a body scan that measures fat vs muscle vs skeletal mass and it showed that the weight I was losing was actually muscle. I was told again to eat more, so I did.

I gained all 11lbs back.

Then I fell back on what I knew worked for me. Calorie deficit.

I started cutting back until I began to see weight drop, but immediately stopped when I realized that I would have to eat less than 700 calories a day for any sort of result.

So here I am, in my traitorous body with no light at the end of the tunnel. I have more issues than losing weight can resolve at this point. I should see a therapist, but I can’t afford one. I should consult a nutritionist, but, again, can’t afford that. The only reason I could afford a trainer because she was a friend of mine and gave me an amazing deal. However, after I had to drop $2k to fix the watermain to my house I was unable to afford that even.

I’m not the confident woman my husband married three years ago, and because of my insecurities and poor body image marital problems run rampant in our relationship.

I know there are many factors to how I view myself— I have unrealistic standards that I feel I must live up to. I have a deep-seeded fear of being ugly because at some point in my life I decided that only good things happen for beautiful people.

I was listening to a podcast today and they were discussing how hot people don’t need to develop certain personality traits or social skills because they’re beautiful and everyone loves beautiful people.

I guess I’ve always wanted to be one of these beautiful people.

It’s vain, and plastic, and superficial, and my common sense finds it absolutely ridiculous. But when I look in a mirror I can’t find anything that I actually like. It’s like I’m screaming from inside a body that I don’t belong in, because the way I feel about myself isn’t reflected in how I outwardly look.

Again, I love my mind. I love my art and the stories I want to tell with it. I love my soul. I just hate the cage it’s trapped in.

I don’t know why I decided to write this... I guess... I really just wanted someone to listen... and I wanted others who feel the same or have been through similar circumstances, that they’re not alone.

And I suppose not being alone and being heard can be exactly what’s needed sometimes.

I’ll delete this later.

#personal #delete later #sorry guys #I don’t know what came over me #I’ve just been super depressed recently #I have so many issues 😅#okay then!#off to bed!

14 notes · View notes

lostmoonbunny · 3 years

Text

Greetings from a Panini World

Yes, I did call this a "panini". I'm hesitant to use the word "pandemic" as I feel many of us have a knee jerk reaction to hide from everything once hearing or seeing that word. However that's the current stat of events. The year? 2021 Where I am located its very much so post quarantine and society has attempted to "return to normal" but its impossible. Between the anti- maskers, anti-vaxxers, and everything else it truly is impossible. "What do you mean?" you ask, well allow me to take you on a journey of a human that has gone through this "history in the making" and share what its been like since January 2020 to September 2021 from the eyes of someone that lived it. -I will preface this with saying, there will be gaps, I have trouble with object permanence, concept of time, and I have memory issues due to past concussions so bear with me as we stumble through the memories of my experiences.

So here we go... Let's travel back to January 2020.

2020..Ahhh the big year of "Clear vision".. HA! No, not today. What I remember was being concerned about this horrible virus but didn't think it would make its way to where I lived.. ( I would be unsurprisingly corrected shortly after this.) I worked, had my birthday, and it was quickly February. The virus was quickly spreading and making its way downtown walking fast faces past.. oops..sorry I got sidetracked, it was making its way down throughout the nation. We celebrated my partner's birthday, and soon after the month was over. February always flies by. March...ahh March, this is where everything started changing for me. Many states were shutting down around us fairly quickly too. ( I have opinions about how the US should've shut down sooner, but we're not here for politics...but yes it should've happened sooner.) My partner, younger brother and I made a last minute trip to the next state for a day trip. Which was fun don't get me wrong but the places we went to shut down for the state's quarantine the next day. My state would follow barely a week later. I was furloughed. That..that was an experience. All of us received the same message as it was a group message. It stated that we were all effectively unemployed ( so we could apply for benefits if we chose to) and that if and when we reopen that they hoped we could come back. I immediately messaged my boss and the boss that messaged us all and double checked learning that I was on the "short list" for rehires. That made me fee a bit better but I was still sad. My partner was considered "an Essential worker" so they worked through the entire lockdown. I swear Animal Crossing New Horizons is one of the only things that got me through that.. from this all the days blended together till June. Not don't get me wrong, plenty of things happened on a personal growth side that was beneficial like I started going to therapy, got even closer to my cousin that lives on the west coast, I played with my cats and dogs more, I caught up on sleep, all sorts of things but the way it had to happen sucked. Also in this time period, my favorite uncle contracts the virus and is put in the ICU on a ventilator. I don't remember how long he was in there but he made it. He is now healthy and survived the virus. So lets fast forward to June. My place of work reopened under specific guidelines. Now I don't know if I've ever mentioned this but I live in the southeast. The southeast, in summer is AWFUL. Its hot, its humid, and then if it DOES rain that humidity just goes up and it gets worse. To give you an idea while the temperature might say its 84 degrees F but the real feel might be 95F. I don't know why they don't just say 95F but that's how it is the southeast... So imagine if you will mid June, being reopened with special rules, masks required for everyone 5 years old and older, and no buildings but restrooms open to the public. The amount of rude, hateful, uncaring people almost made me lose my complete faith in humanity, and its not very high to begin with. Also for context, I work in retail. I feel that says enough there. These rules extend till the end of the year and into part of 2021. While all of this is happening the US is having their presidential elections and everyone has crawled out of the woodwork that you had hoped would stay there. At this point I'm hoping for the best because we really need a paradigm shift in society. We need to truly need to change as a society and in many way, catch up to the rest of the world. I finally gave in a got to tiktok and realize that it is very much a time devourer. I've realized that I feel as if the term "Cassflux" fits how I feel about my gender best, and fully accepted my journey on the path of being a witch.

Lets move in to October, October I ( and my partner) travel to Texas (cautiously) for my cousin's socially distant wedding and our anniversary. That was amazing and the slight escape from reality was truly needed. On our way back we made a stop in NOLA and it was a fun visit, but I realized my baby witch self hadn't veiled or warded myself nearly enough and it got all of "spidey senses" all out of wack. knowing now what I should've done, I do want to go back. The rest of the year went by both incredibly slow and yet in a flash. The US elected a new president, I was working as hard a possible to avoid the virus as much as possible and my partner had gotten a new job with a different company that was making them more happy. So this brings us to 2021. This is the year that I feel that I am truly coming into my own despite living in the middle of a global Panda Express. January brings my turning a landmark age and celebrating it with a new hair style, new outlook on life, progress made in therapy, more self acceptance, and just overall more happiness. The world is still the same, better, but also worse. The vaccine is being produced, distributed, and made accessible. February brings another birthday with my partner's birthday. March rolls around and we jokingly celebrate our work's closing a year prior and then continue to work. The vaccine is made available to retail and food workers so I go and get the first round of the "Dolly Parton" vaccine with my co workers. (If you were wondering its Moderna) We go and receive the second dose later at the correct time. April and May kind of blend together for me because that the ramp up for the busy season at work. June & July are busy but everything is moving forwards. I finally take a step more into the current era of technology and upgrade my phone and computer. ( After several years of going back and forth of not wanting current gen tech or not, because that stuff be expensive!) I reconnect with an old friend and we have a much healthier friendship.

August....hecking August.. We are short staffed at work, busy as heck! My partner is also hecking busy by being called in for almost every problem. The world is deffo changing. The US is in a state of nah nah a boo boo with vaccinating vs not, virus outbreaks having an uptick, universities starting back, Texas deciding that the government gets a say in a woman's reproductive rights... sorry I'll try to not get political. My ( like many others) using tiktok as a means of escape from this reality.. I'm so beyond mentally exhausted by everything that I just want to be somewhere that I can breathe a bit more easy... Its deffo not the southeastern US. September: I. am. exhausted. Working a bunch. Dealing with people doubting the virus, the usual Karens and Richards, counting down my days to vacation. My partner is beyond exhaustion. They've worked more in the past six weeks that they have in two years. The 20th year of 9/11 comes and goes. Not to sound like a country song, but remembering where I was at the moment the planes hit is something that has stuck with me...despite my concussions. I was in my English class and its was between classes and they had the tvs on. So many parents were coming and calling their kids out the school got to the point they weren't going to let kids leave.. ( if the parents complained enough they did.. I was a poorer kid in a more affluent school) My parents weren't going to take me out of school so I finished the day out in a state of confusion, not understanding the gravitas of what was going on, and not understanding was the emotions I was feeling watching the crashes were. I don't claim to even comprehend the emotions of this date to people who lost loved ones in the crashes, or in the oncoming days of the country going to war, I just know how it felt as a child to see something so major happening. I feel its like the kids now living through this panic at the disco. [[If you read this and you lost someone due to either of these horrific events please know that I in no way am invalidating or belittling your feelings or experiences. I merely am trying to describe all of how I feel throughout 2020- roughly current day 2021 and these are the things I was thinking and feeling on this particular day.]]

The days start to blend again as I attempt to countdown the days till my short vacation. Once that starts I get to finally relax as does my partner. The amount of sleep my partner has gotten is incredible and they deserve it dang it! This brings us to today, The last day of September 2021. This are changing at work and I'm not wholly sure of how I feel but I know it will be an interesting discussion for me to have with my therapist coming up. That's all I've got for now.. Hopefully I'll pop back in sooner to give more perspective on what its like living through all of this chaos. Just keep moving forward.

#lostmoonbunny #globalpanini #livingthroughaglobalcrisis #itsachaoticworld #life update #my life #grow #hopeful #becoming me #very tired

3 notes · View notes

greenstudies · 6 years

Text

Glow up tips/ideas

Here’s my little guide how to glow up in your life:

First, get your life together:

Organise and clean your home -Having clean home will make you feel better and lighter and therefore you will be more positive.

Have a life admin day -Write down all the stuff that needs to be done, all the appointments you need to get and everything that needs to be fixed. Then schedule in a day every month or every two weeks when you tick off these thing off your list.

Do your damn laundry

Create routines -They can be long and strict or short and very opened

Fight procrastination in all the ways you can

Take your mediaction and have regular health check ups

Now it’s time for mental health:

Make sure you eat and drink water regularly

Get a therapist if you feel like you need/want one

Practise your hobbies or find new ones

Listen to your favourite music

Meditate

Create a happy atmosphere for yourself -Buy plants and flowers, let your favourite music play in the background, let in as much ligh as you can.

Warm beverages

Be as positive as you can

Try to complain less

Don’t talk shit about people, especially not behind their back -You spread negative energy and hurt yourself in the process.

Say nice things to people, compliment them as much as you can -Being nice to poeple will affect your own mood for the better.

Talk about what you love, not what you hate

Get enough fresh air.

Glow up your mind!:

Read more books -Does not matter the genre

Watch movies and series

Learn new language -Even if it’s just a few words

Watch documents

Talk to people smarter than you

Try learning random fact every day

Find a new hobby

Think of ways to make your life better and help your surrounding -Minimalism? Zero waste? Vegetarian? It depends on you.

Find a new friend

Help people

And lastly the physical glow up:

Find out how much sleep you need and stick to it -Usually 8 hours are the norm

Play around with make up -You will fail and it might look wonky from the beginning. And maybe you won’t even like it. I want you to experiment.

Make sure to go make-up-less sometimes if you wear it often

Drink water -It won’t magically clear your skin completely but it will get better.

Wash your face in the morning and in the evening, but no soap if possible

Use as little skin products as you can -Sometimes less is more.

Lip balm

Eat vegetables every day -Every. single. day. It’s the best thing I have ever done for myself.

Eat oatmeal -It did wonders for my hair.

Stretch regularly

Exercise -Find something you have fun doing and do it as often as possible.

Avoid food with too much grease and sugar -You can have it but try to reduce it.

Prepare your outfit the night before -It gives you time to think about what you’ll wear and it’s nice to have it ready in the morning.

Get clothes you feel good and confident in

Get your dream hair colour! -Get crazy if you want

Learn to be comfortable with your body

Don’t shower every day -I know, I know... but listen... It’s actually much healthier for your skin to shower every other day and wash your hair even less. Plus it saves a lot of water.

Get a perfume -Have a scent

Get enough sun -You don’t have to be tan but getting sun on your skin is very healthy and it’s visible in other ways than tan.

Smile and spread joy

If you’re happy, show it -It’s contagious

Remember that beauty comes from within. That is why I put these tips in that order.

I hope I helped and have a great year!

EDIT: After over a year I added a few notes after seeing the way people reacted and felt about this. Everyone chose to ignore those notes in the reblog, therefore I’m adding them to the original post:

This post has been going around for a bit again and I wanted to address some things about it:

Some people labeled it as ableist and I want to fix that. Back when I posted this, I got defensive and it was the wrong thing to do. The problem is that I still can’t see the exact points and things that are ableist. If you can see them, please point them out to me, so I can fix them and alter them to include everybody

The idea of glowing up can be incredibly toxic and please don’t take this post as a list of things you must do. Glow up should be something coming from the need to pamper yourself and to feel better in your life. If you’re not able to do any of this, it doesn’t make you flawed. Don’t use this to “fix” yourself either. Love yourself first

The outrage about not taking daily showers is unnecessary. Everybody’s life and needs are different. Some people need more hygiene than others, some sweat more, some bodies need more attention than others. I’m not saying you can’t shower daily or that you shouldn’t. I’m saying it’s not always necessary and from biological standpoint it is unnecessary for an average person. No matter what, do what you’re comfortable with. But please don’t call other people gross just because their habits differ from yours. It migth be especially hurtful who can’t make themselves shower regularly due to mental illness or lack of opportunities

Skincare isn’t bad, what I’m pointing out here is making sure to let your body do its thing. Bodies get lazy and if you start using products you don’t need, your body might stop regulating its skin in natural ways. Plus you might throw things out of balance if you experiment too much. Minimal skin care might be better in most cases

Thank you for any additions and I apologise to all who find this post hurtful. I’ll do my best to make it better!

#the-diary-of-a-failure #studyblr #life style blog #study blog #glow up #mental health #beauty #health #student life #studies #tips #advice #list #testpost #school #studying #long post #get your life together #life hacks

16K notes · View notes

erazonpo3 · 4 years

Text

Thinking a little bit about Best Girl Nuru and the way she’s often given the role of the Voice of Reason, aka the one with the brain cell, and I’ve spoken a bit about this with @bestworstcase where uh, we gotta remember that taking the only girl of the group, who is the second youngest, and making her the Mature one raises a lot of red flags. (The fact that she is Black is also something that should not be ignored because young Black girls are often treated as though they are older than they are, but rather than a white woman telling you this you can learn more about that through this article with links to said study).

There’s simultaneously a lot and yet very little that can be inferred about her character given the small amount of original notes she has, and I could go for a more specific reading based on her circumstances but ultimately I’m gonna go for a more broad take of Responsible Characters And You: How to give them flaws that make them feel more like a real person rather than just The Straight Man.

This is hardly an exhaustive list but I went with the biggest five points I could think of in order to expand on them, but the list can go on and grow more specific.

Being the ‘Mom Friend’ at your own expense

This one is probably the biggest one I associate with Nuru, and I think it’d hit particularly hard given her specific situation of being the only girl in the group and also the second-youngest. Let me tell you, straight from personal experience: being the Voice of Reason to a group of teenage boys is like trying to tell a wall to sprout legs and walk around. It’s not gonna happen and you’re just going to tire yourself out. My friends were smart, lovely people but I needed to learn that it wasn’t my job to protect them from themselves.

It’s normal for a friend group to have ‘the one with the brain cell’ or ‘the mom friend’, but that friend group shouldn’t rely on that person to be their only source of support, or expect them to constantly monitor their decisions. It’s unhealthy for all people involved. You need to be willing to let people make their own mistakes, and not hold it against them when they don’t take your advice. You need to see your friends as independent people who understand their own decisions, and although it can be tricky to balance being supportive while also not encouraging bad decisions, it’s important to figure out.

The Mom Friend is also often someone who habitually offers emotional support and advice, but keeps their own issues bottled up. They could have more healthy outlets for their personal issues, like a therapist, but this kind of stereotype usually pops up in people who prefer to deal with other people’s problems in order to avoid dealing with their own. Either way, it’s important for this kind of emotional support to be a two-way street, and for friends to recognise that they shouldn’t be relying on just one person for all their help.

Healthy friend groups can navigate this by ensuring everyone can share what they’re struggling with, and by having everyone able to provide some amount of support, whether it’s advice or condolences or just listening; this way it doesn’t fall on just one person to be the therapist or the mom.

‘Intellectually’ mature but Emotionally immature

So, let’s be straight up: ‘responsible’ kids are usually just kids who respect the authority figures/institutions in their lives, either because they thrive in academic environments or because they have a lot of anxiety about upsetting those figures (or any other reason), but it doesn’t actually say much about their maturity as a person. It’s very easy for a smart kid to fall into the idea that they’re responsible and mature because the adults around them trust them not to cause trouble, but at the same time they can be very behind peers their age in terms of emotional development.

I’m doing a lot of generalising here to spare us a larger essay about the faults of the education system for both gifted and forgotten ‘troublemaking’ kids, but the idea is that your responsible kid might feel as thought they’re the pinnacle of maturity compared to some of their peers, while at the same time do things like hold petty grudges, give their friends ultimatums, make decisions out of spite and have a general lack of consideration for people they might otherwise care about. These are flaws anyone can have, but it’s a very good way to show that being the smart, responsible kid does not mean you have emotional maturity.

Circling back to our example character Nuru, we could take her suspicion over Hugo as something she believes is insightful and cynical (mature), but the others see as a grudge and an inability to trust others’ judgement.

Straight up Immature

Yeah, they’re mature for their age. But that doesn’t mean they’re not still young and inexperienced. Maybe they do have more emotional intelligence and social skills than their peers, but that doesn’t automatically spare them from being gullible, making uninformed decisions, and much worse: being preyed on by people who would take advantage of them.

That last one’s a pretty dark path to take and you’ve got to be ready to deal with that issue from top to bottom if you’re going to go that route, but otherwise the message behind this one is simple: Kids are Kids and they can enjoy juvenile things, where the novelty hasn’t worn off yet, and they can make mistakes simply because they haven’t ever made that mistake before in order to learn from it.

If your character is under 18, or even if they’re over, they’re allowed to be uninformed and say or do things that hurt others because they don’t understand the implications, and they’re allowed to be a little obnoxious or uncritical of what’s going on around them. Kids be kids.

Obsession and an inability to see the bigger picture

Following the earlier example, ‘reasonable’ characters are probably people who rely a lot on logical thought processes to make certain decisions. (Note that Logical =/= Correct or even Sensible, it just needs to abide by whatever the person’s internal rulebook is). That kind of mindset can lead people down rabbitholes and lead to conclusions that only they see, because they’ve jumped through so many mental hoops to reach their destination that nobody else can see how they might have arrived there.

The expression here is “Can’t see the forest through the trees”, where a person misses the bigger picture of the situation because they’re so deep in the details they can’t see what’s going on. You see it a lot with puzzles that are fairly straightforward that people try to overthink and search for clues because ‘it can’t be that obvious’ when it really is. Thinking twice about something isn’t bad, but sometimes a first impression is the right one too.

I can definitely see this applying to Nuru, star-chart master, and particularly in conflict with Yong- she has a great eye for detail that often comes in handy! But sometimes keeping your eye on a single star will blind you to their constellations. (Also for a more advanced reading, as a Princess Nuru might be less likely to see institutional problems compared to someone like Hugo).

Selfish and Privileged perspectives

Keep in mind that prioritising yourself and your own health doesn’t make you a bad person, and being selfish doesn’t mean you lack empathy- it’s just a character flaw that means you have to actively think about other people and how your actions/inaction might affect them. A lot of people, especially ones who are raised in privileged positions, aren’t used to factoring in other people when it comes to making decisions. It comes down to “how will X thing affect me?” and they go from there, without thinking about how X affects others.

This can be paired with socio-economic privilege, in which people who enjoy the benefits of a particular social system don’t pay much attention to how it fails others, or perhaps they know and make excuses that relieve them of any guilt (or maybe they don’t really care at all, so long as they’re winning). The remedy to this is education, and learning from the people who are disadvantaged the way in which certain social systems fail them and ways in which they can be improved. It also means committing to those improvements, even if they may come at your expense.

In regards to Nuru being a Princess, there’s definitely a lot to unpack. I imagine her kingdom isn’t very wealthy (relatively- they’re far from destitute), given that it spends all its money on rebuilding infrastructure and apparently doesn’t have the resources to send a bodyguard or even a LIW along with Nuru on her journey. Nonetheless I think her position of privilege is a good place to start if you want to give her some sweet flaws

a few more ideas I won’t expand much on

Jealousy (ties in with Emotional Immaturity)

Overly Risk-Averse (The man who sleeps with a hatchet is a fool every night but one, but his friends still think he’s a fool most nights. Ouch.)

Insecurity (Do they have doubts? Of course they do.)

Overly Emotional (Not always a flaw, but can impact their judgement)

Just straight up bad with emotions (Maybe they have trouble empathising with others?)

#era soapboxes #though this is less soapboxing more just: let sixteen year olds be dumb i guess #also not that i think anyone is doing this maliciously disclaimer #i mostly just want to write it down that a character that thinks they're responsible and mature rarely is 100%#princess nuru

41 notes · View notes

jenomark · 4 years

Text

Part 2

➔Definition of stranger 1: one who is strange: such as a person or thing that is unknown or with whom one is unacquainted

“You haven’t been here in two weeks,” he said. “Do you want to talk about it?”

You sat across from your therapist. Being in his office again felt strange. No matter how you sat, you couldn’t get yourself to feel comfortable. He had moved things around since you last visited, bought a new shelf, and a new oil diffuser that added a specific scent you had smelled before but couldn’t place.

You stood up and walked to the window. The restless feeling in your legs wouldn’t stop, and you needed to move around. His eyes followed you across the room, his pen drawing circles in the margins of his paper.

“Avoiding it won’t make it go away.” he said.

You looked down at the street. You had to take the bus and train to get to his office. It was a nice day, so you didn’t mind the travel. All below you, people roamed in complete ignorance, their shiny happy faces too ugly for you to look at for too long.

Two weeks. Appointments cancelled. Texts dodged left and right. You shut yourself inside your apartment, your ability to function in society slipping underneath a rug. It wasn’t until the ridiculous feeling set in that you realized you should probably go outside. If therapy is where you found yourself, you wondered if what you really needed all along was help.

“It does for a little.” you said.

He didn’t sigh. It would be too unprofessional for him to do that, but you could feel the exasperation brewing. You didn’t follow his advice enough. If you were him, and your client was as stubborn and pigheaded as yourself, you would question the waste of money. Help wasn’t cheap.

“I think I was too scared to come,” you said. “My life has felt a little..off..lately. Actually, it’s felt off for a long time. Half the time I’m not even sure what I’m seeing is real.”

“Maybe it’s time to put you on medication,” he said. “or at least begin talking about it as a serious option.”

“No,” you said quickly. You placed your fingers on the glass window and leaned in slightly, your breath fogging up the glass. “I just need a little time to gather my thoughts, I think.”

The pen scribbling felt louder. Circle. Circle. Circle. You could hear the creak of his chair as he lifted his body, could hear him padding across the floor. You so rarely saw him out of his chair. The thought of him leaving it further shifted your reality.

“Do you know what I mean?” you asked. “Do you know what I’m trying to say?”

You didn’t turn to him, but you could feel his presence behind you. Tall. Looming. Judging. You figured he was giving you some space to talk it out, but he was still too close for comfort.

“Do you ever just want to get away from everyone you know?” you asked. “To forget who you are and disappear? Change your name, your hair color, your likes and dislikes. To be reborn as someone new, someone who doesn’t have the same problems as you. Have you thought about it? I think about it all of the time. Whenever things don’t go my way, or whenever things I can’t explain happen to me, my brain's first reaction is to abort itself. I don’t think it’s healthy, but then again, I wouldn’t be here if my mind were healthy.”

“That’s not true,” he said. “Even healthy people need help. It’s good to talk about things. You can’t keep it all inside. You can’t run away. You have to live through it. You have to survive.”

You laughed. You didn’t mean the laugh to sound so maniacal, but you felt like you were truly losing it.

“Is that your answer to everything?” you asked. “To survive?”

“Of course,” he said. “It’s better than waiting for what’s going to kill you.”

You thought about his words, digesting them internally. You were so lost in your own thoughts that you didn’t notice how still everything was. The traffic below had stopped, the footfalls dying out. In the office, you couldn’t hear the nasally voice of his secretary, or the tapping of her long fingernails on computer keys. You could hardly hear your own breathing.

“Sometimes I think it would be easier knowing when I die.” you said, your voice echoing in the space.

Your therapist moved closer, so close the hair on the back of your neck stood on end. You had read about therapists taking advantage of their clients, and even though you considered yourself someone who wouldn’t allow that to happen, you froze in place. His mouth was so close to your ear that you could feel how hot his breath was.

“You’re going to die..right..now” he whispered.

You swung around so fast the back of your head smacked the window. With your back pressed against the glass, and your eyes bulging out of your head, you looked at him. What you were met with wasn’t your therapist, and it wasn’t a man. With teeth as large as your head, and eyes so big and red, it smiled like it had you finally trapped.

It opened its mouth the same time you did.

You screamed first.

When you woke up, you were still screaming. Your alarm clock was going off, the most jarring sound imaginable. You slammed your hand down on it and set that same hand on your chest to calm your heart. In a sitting position, you rocked yourself forward. You tried to breathe, tried to banish the monster you were dreaming about to the back of your mind. You pulled back your hand and could see the sweat dripping down your palm, running a river through the deep set lines.

“What. The. Fuck.” you said, dropping your hand onto the bed.

You checked the clock: 10:44 a.m. You had slept a full twelve hours. Peeling the blankets back, you threw your legs over the side of the bed and pushed your feet into a pair of slippers. Despite getting good sleep, the nightmares were making you feel exhausted. Every night it was more of the same: You at therapy, your body uncomfortable, your mind frantic. The monster varied, but he was always trying to eat you alive. When you woke up, the tiny fragments you remembered lessened each day. It had been happening for two weeks.

You walked across your room, dodging the laundry on your floor, and the old take-out wrappers. The mess was accumulating well, but it was nothing compared to the smell. Most days, you could barely bring yourself to shower because you couldn’t stand to be in the bathroom for more than a few minutes at a time. You brushed your teeth in the kitchen, closed your eyes to take a piss. And even through it all, ignoring the issue really is what you did best.

“Shit,” you said. “I’m sorry.”

A fluffy black cat curled around your legs and jumped to rub his head against the back of your knee. His meow was deep and full. You leaned down to scratch behind his ears to make him purr.

“I’m not the only one I’m neglecting,” you said. “Guess we’re in this together, huh?”

As you made your way to the food bowl, the cat followed diligently. You fed him and set the food back onto the counter when something caught your eye. Slowly, one foot in front of the other, you walked to the window and peered out. In your nightmares, the view was the same as your apartment building, which didn’t make sense.

“I didn’t leave this open.” you said, shutting the window. You pulled the blinds down and turned back to your cat, who was scarfing down his food. “And you don’t have thumbs.”

You walked to your desk and sat down. The best thing about working from home was not having to go outside and talk to people. It was easier to exist on the inside, in your pajamas. You opened your laptop and looked through your work email, at the various unread emails that plagued you. Instead of reading them, you shut the laptop and placed your chin on your fist. Every day was the same. You pretended like you were okay and could handle what happened until you found yourself obsessively thinking about it.

Two weeks ago felt like an eternity. You knew your memory would fail you the further you got away from the day you met him, but you didn’t think it would be so hard to remember everything. When you tried to think about the day, there was a fog over each picture in your mind. You grew tired every time you tried too hard to remember, passing out on the couch no matter the time of day. Trying to retain any of the dialogue between you and him was like attempting to find a speck of glitter in sand. Impossible.

Haechan. You could remember his name. You remembered how he looked in your car, but couldn’t seem to remember the feeling that made you follow him. There were voices whispering in your mind, but you couldn’t pick out one from the other. Something in your brain told you it was in your best interest to forget the whole situation, but you really were so stubborn. You had to know.

The next person to invade your mind was your not-boyfriend. You hadn’t seen him since the convenience store. The only thing you could remember is how he looked when he left the car. After that, everything was hazy. Still, you felt something was wrong. He usually came over at night when he was horny, and if he wasn’t up for having sex, he would at least check in to make sure you were okay. You called his phone but there was no answer, no voicemail. You thought he must have been avoiding you, so you let him be.

You leaned back in your desk chair and swiveled around until it was facing the window. Your cat was staring at you, his green eyes unblinking. You called him over, but he didn’t come. You stared each other down, your eyes glazing over. The doorbell to your apartment buzzed and you jumped, hitting your knee on the desk and knocking over an old iced coffee that had been sitting there for four days.

“Coming.” you called.

Your voice didn’t sound like yours. You definitely were not the type to answer the door. Your usual brand included staying away from the door in case they could see your shadow underneath the crack, or holding your hand over your mouth in case they heard you breathing. Jumping up from the chair and yanking the door open was not your average reaction. Neither was the smile that found its way to your lips.

“Did you order a pizza?” a man asked. “I have one pizza.”

The pizza in question was, in fact, in his hands. You looked into his eyes and shook your head. He looked at the receipt and shook his head.

“I’m going to get fired,” he said. “Have a nice day.”

“You too.” you said, your hand getting ready to close the door.

“Hopefully,” he said. “I hear it’s getting harder to survive out there.”

You closed the door, his words not hitting you until you heard the click. You stared at the knob. You couldn’t hear his footsteps fading away down the hallway. You looked down and could see his shadow standing in front of the door. It was moving like he was jumping up and down, but there was no sneaker connecting with carpet.

You were too scared to move, to speak. The sound of your eyeballs moving back and forth in their sockets felt extremely loud.

“Have a nice day.” you called out, swallowing the lump in your throat.

The shadow disappeared. You exhaled, but you were still too scared to move a muscle. You didn’t have the courage until you heard your cat meow behind you, and when you turned around, you wished you hadn’t. The pizza man was standing there, but there wasn’t a pizza in his hands. There was no smile on your lips.

“I plan on it.” he said.

There was no time to scream. You jumped towards the door and opened it, all thoughts leaving your head. All you could think about was survival. You looked back before you closed the door shut behind you and saw the pizza man fling his whole body at the door. You ran down the hallway, your legs pumping as fast as they could go. You couldn’t wait for the elevator, so you bolted down the stairs. Taking them two at a time, you could feel the pressure on your ankles. The sound of the door upstairs opened and hit the wall. The noise in the stairwell was loud and set your teeth on edge. You looked up in between the stairs and saw a hand on the rail, and it was sliding down fast. You kept going without looking back, your whole body shaking with fright. When you made it down to the lobby, there was no doorman waiting. You pushed the front door open and found yourself out in the sunlight, the people on the sidewalk watching you with curiosity.

“Help me I-” you started to say before you noticed that no one was listening.

You ran up to the nearest car and banged on the window, your fist balled up and still shaking. You didn’t know what you were planning on saying when the person rolled down their window. You kept looking over your shoulder and expecting the pizza man to appear behind you, his teeth large and ready to devour you, but he never came. You looked back at the car and noticed, for the first time, that it was the same car that your not-boyfriend drove. You looked through the window and saw two hands on a steering wheel. They were his hands. He didn’t lean over to invite you in, and he didn’t roll down the window. You backed away and could see the outline of him, could see that he was staring blankly ahead, as if he were in a trance.

There was not enough time to find out what was going on. You kept walking, bumping shoulders with people as you passed. Your brisk walk turned into a jog that knocked the breath straight out of you. Two blocks and zero direction later, you were bent down and clutching your knees. You patted your pockets, the cold realization that you didn’t have your phone or money with you sinking in.

You looked around and thought about your options. You could keep walking and hope pizza man would be gone by nighttime. You could ask a stranger for help, or you could---- Images of him began to float to the surface in your mind. You stood on the sidewalk, not really seeing the world before you.

“Haechan,” you said. “I have to find him.”

You hailed a taxi, something you had never done before. The taxi pulled up and waited for you. You had no money, but you would deal with that problem when the time came. You stepped up to the car door and opened it, taking one last look at your surroundings. That’s when you saw him standing across the street, his eyes on you, half of his lanky body hidden behind a car.

“Lady,” the taxi driver said. “Are you getting in?”

You couldn’t remember his name, but the longer you looked, the fog was clearing up. You felt exposed, your soul stripped down until it was a nub of nothing. He didn’t move his lips or his eyes. He just stood and watched from across the street, his visual bringing everything back to you at once.

“Jisung.” you said.

The lights in the club painted purples and pinks on the wall, the paint brush a little cleaner than the one he was used to. It was easier to hide out in seedy strip clubs than the higher end places, because you never knew who you would run into. He liked to confine himself to the corners where he could see who was coming and going. As long as he kept the money flowing, they let him stay as long as he wanted.

“Baby, you look lonely,” one of the girls said. “Can I keep you company?”

He had been there long enough to learn every girl's name, but the one before him was brand new. They all had fake names just like him, but they were the realest people he’d ever met. He liked to strike up conversations to get to know them a little, to find out what made other people tick. He smiled up at her.

“I’m not lonely,” he said, taking a wad of cash out of his pocket. “But I would appreciate the company.”

The girl got onto her platform and started to dance for him. She worked the stripper pole awkwardly, walking around it with her hands grasping it. Right away, he noticed the way she eyed his table full of empty drink glasses. Twenty or so glasses littered the top, leaving wet rings on the surface. Though none of the drinks would get him drunk, he knew people didn’t drink as excessively. The shock was hard for her to hide.

“Can I get you another?” she asked.

“No, thank you.”

The cash would be all hers, she knew it well enough. None of it belonged to him, anyway. Cash was easy to come by when you could make other people forget how he acquired it. The other thing he liked about strip clubs is how no one ever asked where he got his money, and they never questioned the validity of his attire. Dressed in an expensive suit, Haechan certainly looked the part of a rich, drunk asshole.

He threw singles onto the little stage and sat back in his booth to watch her. She was pretty, but her face was hard to focus on. He looked at her body and felt his very human needs swelling up. She placed her heel in between his legs and crossed the gap between stage and booth, straddling his lap and slipping her hands inside of his suit jacket.

“You look like a baby.” she said.

“Only in this world.” he said.

The girl didn’t hear his words. She started grinding on him and sucking on his earlobe. Haechan touched her thigh and let her kiss his neck, his body still. He looked towards the doorway and watched men file in. He would bet that most of them came from out of town so their wives wouldn’t know what they were up to at night. He avoided that crowd, choosing to keep a neutral disposition about what people did with their lives.

“You tip a lot,” she said. “ Other girls talk about you. Tell me, where did you get all that money from?”

He smiled. “Does it matter?”

She kissed him on the lips. When she got to her feet, the hand she held out was open. He could smell the greedy stench on her. He placed his hand in hers despite it, and let himself be led outside. Past the dumpsters and discarded traffic cones, she got on her knees to blow him.

“We don’t get a lot of men like you,” she said, her fingers yanking his belt off. “You seem shy. You’re definitely handsome. I don’t normally do this.”

Haechan looked down at her, at the roundness of her breasts, and how her lipstick was stuck to the front of her veneers. He believed that taking random strangers out back and performing oral sex on them wasn’t her regular activity. Like most people, she was drawn to him. It wasn’t her fault. She pulled his zipper down and touched the front of his cock. The way it felt made him forget who he was for a small moment. He could have been any of those men walking through the door, and he liked that feeling, too. He wanted to enjoy having her mouth around him, to give in to the excitement brewing in his belly.

“Stop.” Haechan said before her pink tongue touched his cock.

From her perch on the ground, she looked up at him. He asked her to get up, which she did. Haechan zipped up his pants and buckled his belt. She watched him in silence, her expression regretful.

“You don’t want me?” she asked. “This always happens to me.”

“It’s not you,” he said. “Trust me.”

Before she could say another word, he looked into her eyes and leaned in close. The words that came out of his mouth would affect her, he knew. He said, “You and I are strangers. You’re right, I am lonely. I didn’t want a dance from you tonight. You found the $1,000 I gave you, and you’ll tell no one about it. Use it on yourself and your daughter.”

With eyes that grew expressionless, she nodded.

Haechan closed his jacket and went back the way he came. When he went back into the strip club, he started cleaning up his own mess, which was something he needed to do more often.

The taxi car stopped on a random street. You banged on the glass partition and asked the taxi driver to keep driving. Ever since you drove away from Jisung, your memories flooding back to you, you were scared of stopping in a neighborhood you didn’t know. You didn’t know if he was following you. There was something about that boy that unnerved you.

“Oh no,” the driver said. “This is where the trip ends.”

“What?” you asked. “I asked you to drive me to the motel. I gave you the address.”

“And I did drive you,” he said. “Enjoy the rest of the walk.”

You looked around and saw that the motel was nowhere in sight. The driver made eye contact with you in the mirror and turned around to face you. He looked like he was debating whether or not he wanted to speak, when he opened his mouth and spit out all the words at once.

“Thatplaceiscursed.” he said.

“Cursed?” you asked. “The motel? The motel is cursed?”

“Yes,” he said. “No one goes there. Everyone knows to stay away from it. Therefore, this is where I leave you. Give me my money, and have a nice day.”

You were trying to make sense of it all. Your mind was struggling to keep up with everything trying to filter in. In a strange world, you had to contemplate the possibility that the driver had the same experience you did. Or maybe you were crazy. Or maybe everyone was crazy.

“Wait,” you said. “I was there two weeks ago. What do you mean everyone knows to stay away from it? That motel is empty.”

The driver's eyes widened. “Get out.”

“What? Why?”

He got out of the drivers side and opened the back seat. “Get out.”

You were getting ready to object, when he reached in and grabbed your leg. He pulled, and you screamed. His long nails were scratching at your skin. The more you kicked, the more aggressive he became. He was angry, spit flying out of his mouth.

“Get the fuck out of my car,” he said. “Get out. Get out.”

He pulled you onto the pavement, your ass bouncing off of the cement. He didn’t check to see that you were alright, just got back into his car and slammed the door shut. You thought he was going to step on the gas and peel away but his last shred of humanity rolled down the window and looked at you laying on the ground.

“Go back, “ he said. “You don’t belong here.”

You sat on the ground long after he had driven away, the hot sun beating on your back. When you found your footing, you weren’t thinking about anything. You kept walking forward. On and on you went, taking different directions, not really knowing where they would lead you. You thought about finding a phone and calling someone, but you didn’t know who would listen. You hadn’t talked to your sister in awhile, and everyone in your life would be tired of picking up the call just for them to have to forgive you.

Thinking about just going home made you turn around. You turned around and around until the final turn saw you in front of the motels parking lot.

“How the fuck did I get here…” you said.

The motel looked much the same as it did when you left. No, it hadn’t. When you left, it was destroyed. You remembered the glass crunching beneath your feet, and how Haechan told you to stop being so nosy. He was protecting you from looking at the body of the old woman. You remembered his hand on your back and how he guided you to the edge of the parking lot. The motel before you looked the same as the day you first saw it. With the old woman in your mind, you moved forward. There was no broken glass, no signs of a struggle. It was like you had taken a step back in time. You went up to the door of room 11 and touched the face of it. You could hear her words in your head: Can I help you?”

“Yes.” you said, out loud.

You moved to the side of the building where you knew room 22 would be. There was no beer bottle, no proof of what had happened that day. The only thing that stuck out as odd was the open curtains. You could see inside his motel room, and it was empty. You moved forward and touched the door, your fingers against the blue paint until you found the knob. A curious twist later, the door was opening.

Inside, the room was like every other motel room. There was a bed, an outdated television, a phone, a chair, and a lamp and other tables stuffed into the small space. You retraced your footsteps from two weeks ago, to when Haechan pulled you through the room. You were brought to the bathroom door, its door closed and perfectly intact. You looked underneath the door and could see a shadow moving. You would be lying if you said you weren’t scared shitless. You thought about running, but then you remembered what your therapist said.

Running away won’t make it go away.

You moved out of the way, just in time. You turned the corner to where the mini fridge sat. At the same time, the bathroom door opened. You held your breath, terrified that you would find another monster getting ready to fling their body at you. When Haechan came out, you felt yourself relax a little. There was a familiar feeling of comfort surrounding him, like a halo.

Haechan crossed the room, confidently. He had just gotten out of the shower, the towel hanging from his hips tightly secured. He didn’t see you standing there, arms by your sides, and your eyes raking over his body. He touched the clothes on his bed, the price tags still on them. You were getting ready to step forward when his body started disappearing slowly, fading away until it was nothing but smoke. A thick, black fog was suddenly before you, hanging in mid-air. It rolled over the clothes and went inside them, bringing them up into a stand position. You watched as the black fog filled out the suit, an arm and a leg forming to make Haechan. When it was all filled out, he rolled back the cuff on his sleeves and fixed you with a stare.

“I thought I told you to go home?” he asked.

#haechan #lee donghyuck #donghyuck #lee haechan #nct #nct dream #nct 127 #nct fanfiction #nct haechan #haechan fanfiction #donghyuck fanfiction #lee donghyuck fanfiction #jisung #nct jisung #haechan week

30 notes · View notes

entriesfromangels · 4 years

Text

Journal Entry (#17) ~

/// tw: mention of self-harm

Well i sorta have an update for you guys.

A few days ago i had a mental breakdown. Over what you may ask? Well just a lot of things...

1. two of my closest friends decided instead of working on our problems together, it was easier to just block me and avoid it all together. For my bpd and my past experiences, it has been hard to move on from it since they were such good friends. I know in my heart is was the right thing to let them go but i still struggle with it from time to time.

One of them moved with me from Texas to Washington state. Since day one she has caused drama with me, my bf and his friend. I have told her multiple times that we will try our best to include her in things but at the end of the day... she just couldn’t handle not being the center of attention and decided to leave. The reason for her even coming was to “protect” me from my bf who, for the 9 months we have been dating, has been amazing. But i understood that she was just being a good friend. it still doesn’t change the fact that she acted the way she did and isolated herself as soon as we arrived.

It sucks loosing people who were once close to you but if those people start to turn into someone completely different and someone toxic and unrecognizable... that's when the cord needs to be cut. I am glad i did, i’m a lot happier that i did but my heart still aches for the friendships that i had because at one point, they were important people in my life. Things change and people change and that's just how life is. i just have to understand that.

2. I was an americorps worker for a food bank and it was one of the reasons why i made the move to Washington. I thought it would be a wonderful opportunity for me and in the end i’m glad i took the position.

As the months went on, the more i saw how toxic the management was. The founder/CEO is the most manipulating person i have ever met. She would twist words, pressure you to say things you didn’t want to say and didn’t show any compassion for her employees. The work that is done there is awesome. They provide so many people with food and shelter. But this boss is something else. I didn’t expect the founder to be like this, so self-centered and egotistical. It was disturbing to be around. I wasn’t the only one feeling like this either. Other employees and the other americorps i worked with also felt the same and quit as did I. All the people i met while working there are all gone, except maybe for one person. It put such a strain on my mental health and really made me look at my values and integrity as a person. It was a hard decision to make but leaving was a good choice for me, despite not having income anymore.

3. That brings me to my next point.

Not having a job sucks. a lot. Especially during a pandemic and when i have a degree. Since i left, I have been doing instacart and that helps with rent and money for groceries. Of course its only temporary and can only help for a short amount of time. I am eagerly searching for jobs while doing instacart. I also decided to go into teaching so finding time to save money for grad school, having money for rent and paying other things i have to pay for is extremely difficult. Its just a lot of stress and pressure and the night i had my mental breakdown... it just all came down at once.

4. The final thing that is always constantly bothering me is my recent bpd diagnosis. I got the official diagnosis last year from my doctor. It has been really hard for me because i really don’t know much about it. Since then I have been researching and learning more things about it. I even bought some workbooks, books specifically about BPD and my bf also let borrow some of his self-help books. Its been hard because whenever something happens, it keeps going in circles, the same pattern. I start implementing these strategies, things go good for a while and then something triggers me and I start over from scratch. Its a vicious cycle and i’m FUCKING done with it. I’m done with giving up every time something doesn’t go my way or the way i want them to. Life isn’t perfect. Not everything is guaranteed. Its up to ME to make sure that i understand my journey and even though its hard, i can get through it. I’ve been at worse places in my life and this time isn’t any different.

I think the thing that drove me over the edge is that i was thinking of self-harming again. I went out of my way to get a rusty key and bring it with me into the bathroom. I had it on my wrist but something stopped me. Mostly it was the idea of what my parents would think, my boyfriend and where it would lead me if i started doing it again. The only people who know are my therapist and my bf. I know how i was when i was self-harming every time something bad happened. It wasn’t healthy for me then and it isn’t for me now.

The one thing i do have to remember however is i myself am in control of how i handle these situations. Not anyone else. Its really hard for me to accept that because i rely on so many people for my happiness when i’m missing the most important person: me

In my head it just seems selfish... to be putting myself first, you know? As i learn more and more about the disorder and how to overcome it, the more i’m realizing that it isn’t. Its not selfish to put yourself first or to take care of yourself. I’m starting to realize that... as hard as it is for me to accept.

---

So after everything i’ve been dealing with, my bf suggested i take a break and go home to Texas for a while. So i’m doing just that. I know going home won’t solve all my problems but i am really serious about getting better. I am using this time to reevaluate everything, things that matter and putting into my head that as much as the people who love and care for me are important, that i also am too. Taking care of myself is so important, especially with bpd since this disorder can paint us in a negative light and we always think everyone is out to get us or tear us down. When in reality we are ruining our relationships and hurting ourself more in the process. We aren’t protecting ourselves... we are adding more damage than good. I’m excited to see my friends and family but more ready than ever to work on myself and continue the journey when i return home.

I got this 👍🏼

#journal entry #my thoughts #journal #staying strong #positivity #bpd #borderline personality disorder #borderline problems #borderline things

2 notes · View notes

littlechocolatekitten · 4 years

Text

Thoughts on Insecure (Ep. 8-9)

I just want to say that it’s a very difficult time in this country right now. With the epidemic, the protests across the country, and unemployment at the highest it has ever been in American history, I want every one to know that it is okay to not be okay. If you need to, take time for yourself; you can’t help anyone if you’re not okay. If you are protesting, please be safe. If you can, make donations to black organizations in need. Also, stay healthy, this virus is far from over.

Okay, back to Insecure. Here are my immediate thoughts:

((Spoilers))

1. One thing that has me worried is I feel like Issa and Lawerence are going through a honeymoon phase, again. But I also really love that they talked about their feelings and what had went wrong in their relationship. I still feel like, even if Issa hadn’t cheated, they would have broken up. They both were struggling with themselves. I’m interested to see how this goes, but I’m not gonna set myself up and hope for the best.

2. When Molly’s therapist talked about putting up walls, I think that’s something almost everyone can relate to. There are people who will talk about anything at any moment. And there are people who feel like they shouldn’t have to put in the effort, because there’s nothing they did wrong. Molly is obviously the latter. One thing I appreciated about what Issa did was that she allowed the space apart and tried to reconnect.

The strange thing to me is that Molly is clearly bothered by her relationship with Issa, but she isn’t putting any effort to fix it. I agree with her therapist, reconnection isn’t one sided. Its weird, because before the block party I feel like she would have been open to talking but now its like she doesn’t want to deal with anything.

And even more interesting is that she’s doing the same thing to Andrew’s brother. Andrew is right, Victor is an ass but that’s still his brother- how does she expect to be with Andrew and not at least try to get along with his family? And I’m not saying she has to be passive; every time Victor is being an asshole she has every right to check him (we know Andrew would allow it and probably join in) but she can’t just avoid him.

3. Damn, I was so hoping it would work out between them. It was distressing to see Issa’s expression at the end. You can tell she really thought they’d be best friends again.

4. I’m questioning if Andrew and Molly’s relationship will last. Thankfully he’s being very patient with her, but she can’t just block people out like that. And now she’s kind of pulling an Issa- there’s a problem and instead of confronting it she’s dodging it.

#insecure #insecure hbo #hboseries #hbo

17 notes · View notes

bigskydreaming · 4 years

Note

(Last Anon) I write a lot of dark shit. I’ll openly admit it helps me cope with the shit Ive been through. It was advised to me by a therapist, and reading and writing it makes me feel better. The tagging system helps me avoid the things that WOULDNT make me feel better. It’s up to me to make that distinction. What level of tagging would actually make you comfortable? Do you want to stop people from writing anything noncon all together? (Idk if this sounds attacky, I don’t mean it that way)

I answered before I saw this second question, so I’ll try to make this briefer...

I’m gonna be blunt here: I’m.....not exactly side-eyeing that therapist, because its not like I’ve talked to or worked with every therapist out there lol, and I don’t know their reasoning on this subject, but I DO question whether or not there’s room in your dialogue with your therapist to expand on this and explore if there’s any kind of miscommunication or misinterpretation of WHY they suggested it might make you feel better....as well as whether or not they meant just in writing it for yourself vs writing it to share with other people online.

I say that last part because those can be very distinct things.....because ALL forms of writing, are at their core inherently just....communicating ideas. Even to ourselves.

Its why journaling is so effective for a lot of people. Its literally just us using writing to express our own ideas to ourselves, to communicate what we’re already thinking or feeling to ourselves in more...digestible ways we can more easily internalize even if we’re the only intended audience for what we write there.

And I also say this because there’s a difference between exploration and validation....and the intended results and receptions to both these things.

Like.....tbh, I’ve spent a lot of my life asking WHY, in terms of why certain of my victimizers might have done the things to me that they did. Its been a large, central question at times.....the mystery of it being something that’s bothered me to large degrees.

So in that vein, there is a certain logic to writing various dark shit in an effort to reach SOME kind of understanding, even just in my own mind. Trying to understand what they were even thinking, the WHY of it, in order to at least transform the unknown of it into something real or tangible that I could more easily refute or push back against.

But all of that can be done in the form of writing just to myself. The second I share that writing with a wider public, many of them unknown to me, however.....it takes on a whole new dimension.

Because now I’m not just communicating my thoughts on this matter to myself.....I’m communicating it to an audience of people all with their own thoughts, priorities, lived experiences, etc. And there is ZERO guarantee, or even really a realistic expectation, that this wider audience is receiving what I’m communicating or interpreting it or whatever.....in the same vein, and for the same reasons, that I’m writing it in the first place.

So not only do I now have to factor in that while say, exploring my victimizers’ mindsets in order to make them more real and thus more realistically refuted, like....that might be my motivation for writing it to myself, and MY understanding of what I’ve written and why......but to people out there in that wider audience....I have NO idea what they’re getting out of it. People who actually ALREADY think this way could see it as validation, proof that the predatory thoughts they had were more normal and acceptable than society otherwise wanted them to think.....or other victims of similar kinds of events could accidentally use it to negatively reinforce ideas they had about THEIR victimizers’ being valid in thinking the way they did, and for doing the things they did to them.

But then I also have to now factor in the ADDITIONAL angle that is....feedback. And especially, ESPECIALLY in a fandom environment which simply does not allow for or condone negative reception to this kind of content, and will default to defending the author and any readers of the author, REGARDLESS of their motivations or intentions....over a reader who is genuinely distressed by how they received the content.

Because feedback IS validating. Plain and simple. Positive reception IS affirming, in WHATEVER we do.

So....now there’s the problem that I can’t honestly say for sure at this point if what’s making me feel better about writing this dark shit is just the writing of it itself, communicating whatever it communicates to me when I put it to paper....OR if maybe what’s making me feel better is the external validation I’m getting from readers who for their own reasons, whatever they might be, are telling me this is fantastic, I’m great at this, they want more.

And that can very easily become a trap, see....because whereas initially my writing this stuff for myself might have had some benefit....if the how and why of me doing this goes somewhere it wasn’t ever intended and becomes something else entirely....that can eventually like....overtake and REPLACE my original motivations completely.

And instead of this being something I do for a FINITE period of time, for as long as I need to in order to work through this stuff....it can become something I kinda just...dwell in, and never move past.....because the validation I’m getting from writing this specific content and how that VALIDATION makes me feel, specifically.....gives me reason enough not to...ever actually move past this stuff no matter how else it might be effecting my life or my mindsets about things.

And I’m not saying that’s what’s going on with you or going to happen with you or anything of the sort, because I flat out DO NOT KNOW your situation or your therapist or what they recommended or why.

I’m just saying....the problem with using ‘coping mechanisms’ as a catch-all defense without ever delving into the specifics of WHY this specific coping mechanism and what specifically its meant to accomplish....is there is nothing inherent in a coping mechanism that’s like.....good.

Because coping is the bare minimum, frankly.

It should never be upheld as the IDEAL.

So for instance, as a survivor of physical abuse and in terms of how that often made me feel weak or powerless....I could, feasibly, say getting into physical fights is a coping mechanism for me, as long as I win them, because they make me feel strong or powerful. I could genuinely say, despite how it sounds, punching someone on some level DOES make me feel better.

But could I actually argue this is any way ideal, healthy or sustainable in the longterm? Let alone ignore the effect is has on the people I fight, for what are essentially entirely self-serving reasons?

I’m just saying....coping isn’t always the be all and end all....and it can get away from us very quickly if we lose sight of WHY we’re doing it and to what end.

And to answer the rest of your questions.....all of this is what I want. All of the above conversation is the POINT of my frequent rants.

Because these kinds of conversations are ESSENTIAL to what fandom CLAIMS are the point of these kinds of fics and content and readerships.

These are not things that can just be assumed, or things that are one size fits all and the same for every writer and reader regardless of personal situation.

But can you honestly say that fandoms, as they exist now, are remotely open or conducive to HAVING these kinds of conversations regularly? To making the asking of THESE specific kinds of questions something people regularly do, or check in with, or consider before or during the creation or consuming of dark content.....as opposed to just taking for granted that its fine and its GOOD because fandom has been doing it this way all along and everyone who’s been a guiding influence to you in fandom has previously assured you this is fine and works and doesn’t need fixing or adjusting?

Because I don’t think they are, and THAT’S my issue, and THAT’S what I want, in answer to your other question.

Do I really want people to just stop writing dark shit altogether? At least the fetishistic kind, the kind that exploits real peoples’ real traumas for entertainment rather than be respectful of the inherent power and weight it comes with just by virtue of being what it is?

I mean, on the one hand, yes, sure. I’m not going to lie. That would be ideal.

But part of why I object so strongly to accusations of purity policing and censorship is because I DON’T view the world in terms of black and white, binary thinking.

And so on the other hand, no, this isn’t what I want, because it isn’t something I spend any time actually WANTING....because that would be a waste of time and effort, because I UNDERSTAND that that’s just not a realistic want. I’m not likely to ever see like, just a full scale abandonment of the consumer culture fad of rape culture.....and I don’t want to actually censor it because I fully believe censorship is just a band-aid slapped on a gaping chest wound....banning content does nothing to address the WANT of a type of content, and as long as that want persists, people will find a way to feed it.

So realistically, ACTIONABLY.....all I really want is this. More of these kinds of conversations, engagements. Open, frank, directness about what’s ACTUALLY going on with a lot of this content and being communicated with it, the risks inherent in it....acknowledgment of the negative impact that goes hand in hand with the positive impact you get from readers saying they like this, they enjoyed it.

And yeah, I fully admit and hope that along the way, it DOES lead to more people just stopping writing this type of content altogether.....BUT the WHY of that is important.

Because I believe this would only happen or come about because in the act of actually ASKING these questions of themselves and their work, ACTUALLY acknowledging the full scale of impact, the bad as well as the good, actually LISTENING to people who complain or criticize it instead of just dismissing them as entitled or whiny or puritans....I do think that this would inevitably lead to some people abandoning this type of content altogether.....because its just flat out not really enjoyable to them when they consider it in the context of its negative impact AS WELL as the positive.

But the thing is......THAT, yeah, I’m okay with. Because I don’t believe anyone is entitled to LIE to themselves or hide from the negative impact of their own actions or actions of those around them, just in order to preserve the entertainment value of ONE aspect of ONE personal hobby.

That, I have no shame about potentially having an influence on people in regards to, because there is literally NOTHING WRONG with asking people to be more aware of themselves and their place and impact among others, and to interact honestly and directly with their own actions, likes, and interests.

Like, there’s just not.

And I fully believe everyone really already knows that, and that’s WHY this conversation so frequently gets twisted and derailed into being about things its just not about...censorship, purity policing, fiction not being the same as reality....

None of those are the point. THIS is the point. Has always been MY point, at the very least.

Bottom line, fandom as is, expects people whose lives are directly reflective of specific types of content to make THEMSELVES smaller in fandom spaces, in order to make room and make way for the content a lot of people like.

And I fully and unapologetically believe that’s backwards.

Fic should not take priority over people. Fictional interests should not be more important to a fandom COMMUNITY than lived experiences.

Nobody has any right to ask or expect other fans to make room, object less, isolate more.....just so that other people can enjoy certain fictional content without having to do any serious examination of it and how that makes them feel.

6 notes · View notes

yanxious · 4 years

Text

personal view on productivity, overall accomplishment and the way self-care is promoted

All the [references] are at the end with all the info for libgen.is and sci-hub.tw (I personally uploaded them to both platforms). The text is about my thoughts on those topics and how I think the way self-care is promoted on media / schools can be misleading and have negative effects on productivity - based on those references and my personal experience.

I’m writing this for myself - but if someone read it feel free to comment since it’s probably an unpopular opinion that I have. I am by no means a psychologist or a generally healthy person.

The idea of ego-depletion (in other words, limited willpower) is a well-known concept. It was first published by a research group from Case Western Reserve University [1] and was made famous by a best seller self-help book that followed it [2]. Nowadays lots of coaches and books still use this concept.

But what is it? It’s basically the idea of our willpower being physically limited. It means that every time we make a decision we cut back on the reservoir of ‘willpower’ available for us, eventually having a ‘temporarily reduction in the self’s capacity or willingness to engage in actions (including controlling the environment, working, controlling the self, making choices and initiating new actions)’ [1]. It is important to note that it’s not the same as getting tired; it’s like we have a literal ‘physical reservoir of willpower available’ to use in a determined period of time.

You can read on [3, a counter-research study*] why this concept has been proved wrong a few times and they propose that ‘whether depletion takes place or not depends only on a person’s belief about whether willpower is a limited resource’. In other words, it’s not actual ‘ego-depletion’ that makes you unable to make decisions, but your belief in it.

Now after this intro (that is way bigger than I wanted it to? I’m terrible at writing and I’m sorry for that) we will finally talk about my experience and the reasons I think self-care is promoted in a misleading way and how it had terrible effects on my last year of high school / first semester of university.

I want to begin making sure that self-care is important if you are keeping truly healthy habits, but not if it becomes an excuse for doing less. I remember hearing really often about the idea of self-care and I was very encouraged to take care of myself in order to prevent burnout and overstressing (which is important, don’t take me wrong). Even my therapist told me multiple times that I could only study / work for so long without being burnout even if it was something I loved doing. The idea of self-care that presented to me was, most of the time, related to the idea of limited willpower / ego-depletion.

So for a long time I believed in that ‘self-care’ because basically it told me to take more breaks in order to be healthier. And I loved it. I was taking more breaks, using headspace, having a ton of sleep and playing lots of videogames while avoiding my work because I was “way too stressed” and I would need to do that not to “burnout”. But of course I was deceiving myself. I basically took self-care as an excuse to indulge in bad habits and stop doing what I needed to do. What I’m trying to say is that the way self-care is promoted most of the times can be misleading because it leads to believing in ego-depletion (that has been proven wrong and can have negative effects on your productivity).

Of course I’m not here to say that self-care is complete bullshit. It is very possible for you to overwork yourself, feel overstressed and unhappy. What I’m trying to bring up is that the moment I understood that I was able to do something for countless hours it became easier to do so. The moment I realized I can work for any amount of time, working for 7-8 hours a day became way easier. I even talked about it with my therapist at the time and we agreed that the pleasure of completing a task is way more beneficial than avoiding it with the excuse of taking care of myself. The pleasure of learning something substituted the illusion of being exhausted - and the feeling of being active is way more fulfilling than anything else.

We need to magnify the effects of being productive and self-care without the idea of ego-depletion in its background. I know countless people that are doing way less than they are able to and still feeling unhappy while using the excuse of being too stressed for doing too much. Of course there are problems we can’t solve with that (probably most of the problems, I am a very privileged person with very simple problems) and sometimes you just can’t produce your own serotonin and need to understand that store-bought is fine. The thing is we are all capable of doing great things and there is no physical limitation to how much you can do in a certain period of time, even if most sources try to convince us the opposite. Dedicating huge amounts of time to anything is a habit and you will never be able to do it if you don’t exercise it. I’ve been working and studying more than ever (especially during lockdown) and it even became a relief valve for when I’m down and don’t want to think about other stuff. It makes me feel accomplished and I wish someday everyone I know and love will have something as simple as that that brings that feeling of accomplishment.

This is, of course, based on my personal experience. I try to rely on scientific / peer-reviewed articles in order to form my opinions and this is one I want to save here so I can read later. Sometimes I just need to remember myself that I’m able to do stuff and that I have the privilege of doing something I like.

* Since it’s a recent study (divided in 4 parts, with a huge sample size) its results show better statistical significance [4] and coherent results

my opinion about this topic was highly influenced by Arpi Park’s channel and Lex Fridman’s view on productivity

References:

[1] Ego Depletion: Is the Active Self a Limited Resource? - Journal of Personality and Social Psychology, 1998, Vol. 74, No. 5, 1252-1265 - 0022-3514/98

[2] Willpower: Rediscovering the Greatest Human Strength - 2011 - ISBN 978-1-59420-307-7

[3] Ego Depletion-Is It All in Your Head? Implicit Theories About Willpower Affect Self-Regulation - August 2010 - Psychological Science 21(11):1686-93 DOI: 10.1177/0956797610384745

[4] Two-sample t tests: Statistics for the Social Sciences - Sirkin, R. Mark (2005). (3rd ed.). Thousand Oaks, CA: SAGE Publications, Inc. pp. 271–316. ISBN 978-1-412-90546-6. [I highly recommend this article for anyone in social sciences but they generally don’t give a shit about calculus]

more stuff about it

> From Ego Depletion to Vitality: Theory and Findings Concerning the Facilitation of Energy Available to the Self - Social and Personality Psychological Compass - Volume 2, Issue 2, March 2008, Pages 702-717 https://doi.org/10.1111/j.1751-9004.2008.00098.x

> An updated meta-analysis of the ego depletion effect - Psychological Research (2018) - 82:645–651 - DOI 10.1007/s00426-017-0862-x 4

> Publication bias and the limited strength model of self-control: has the evidence for ego depletion been overestimated? - Front. Psychol., 30 July 2014 | https://doi.org/10.3389/fpsyg.2014.00823

3 notes · View notes

valiancyvulnerability · 4 years

Text

Body Image and Young People

This is a big topic that has so many layers to it. I have been trying to collect my thoughts the past few days in order to try to cover as much as I could, so I am going to do my best.

I want to begin by going into detail about my battle with my own body over the years, in detail, in order to create a clear image about what goes through someone’s brain that is struggling with severe confidence issues.

I never was a skinny kid, necessarily, but sports were never truly my scene. Throughout my last few years of elementary school and middle school, I was pudgier than most of the kids in my grade, but I was not an unhealthy weight by any means. That being said, as I mentioned, I didn’t play sports, so I was already a target for people that felt superior to me as someone who wasn’t athletic and was “heavier”. This was the stem of my self-confidence issues, but it didn’t get to its worst until I was in high school.

I became accustomed to swimming fully clothed at pool parties, wearing clothes that were oversized in order to cover any lines or bumps that I felt like were flaws on my frame. If that meant wearing sweaters and sweatpants in the summer, then that’s what I needed to do.

When I turned sixteen, I wanted to change my whole image into someone I wasn’t (see past blog posts) and started working out excessively and cut my eating almost entirely in order to lose weight, and in my head, get people to like me. I got results both physically and socially and ended up losing about twenty-five pounds, so I persisted. I was so focused on how I was viewed by people, that I failed to acknowledge the issue at hand until February of 2020.

My anxiety was at its peak and when Covid-19 hit, I found myself alone and focusing on nothing else but what I was eating, what I looked like, and what number the scale flashed back at me. I substituted all my meals with a powder drink that satisfied me for a few hours, and then I would repeat. I lost about twenty pounds in a month.

The way this situation is different, though, is that I wasn’t attempting weight loss in order to please others, it was a competition with myself, and it wasn’t a friendly one. I didn’t view it as what it truly was until I started passing out. One afternoon, I got ready to take prom pictures with my friends with a local photographer in my town. I went to go pick up my friends and got out of the car and they started speaking to me, but I could hear nothing--I blacked. I started sweating and couldn’t form my sentences properly. I would get up and walk to my bedroom when I felt it coming, and I would just wipe out completely. I knew it was an issue, but it was not enough to get me to stop what I had already started, because I wanted results. Anytime we would get carry-out or I would eat an actual meal, I would return to my room and tremble, thinking about every bite of food I had just consumed.

Although I am on a more nourishing and healthy track now, it is still a daily occurrence where I want to slap myself across the face for eating breakfast, for going out to dinner with my family, or for having a snack now and then. I have spent many a night, alone, driving around screaming and crying at nothing simply for feeling the way I do. It’s almost an addictive behavior that I didn’t want to acquire, but the truth is that I did, and I am doing my best to overcome the obsession that gets in the way of my everyday routine, and we are getting somewhere.

Enough about me, though. The reason I am writing this in the first place is because I have so much to say as it’s something I know I am still personally dealing with, and I know the majority of people my age are. If we are being honest, we all would change something about our body if we could. Whether it be that we want to lose weight, or gain it, we all have our personal battles. In today’s day and age, though, it’s a more toxic world regarding body image and perception. Here is why.

SOCIAL MEDIA

As of 2019, teenagers often spent up to nine hours on social media on a daily basis. The most toxic platforms for young people struggling with their body, in my opinion, would be Instagram and TikTok. Because most social media apps are programmed to spit out information and content that interests the user, the posts that are viewed are specific to each individual.

With Instagram, especially, everyone aspires to be an “influencer”. They are skinny, tan, have clear skin, travel, eat power foods, and young people love that. The reality is, is that most of us don’t live perfect lives like that, but we truly wish we did, so we want to get as close as we can.

With this, diet culture is a very popular concept among those wanting to bring a change to their bodies. Although this has been something that has been advertised for years now, mainly for adults, the new wave of diets for adolescents is scary. Most of them are malnourishing and can do more damage than one would think. Often times, though, they are bizarre or unheard of, but seem simple enough for someone who wants fast results. Because of this, once again, it’s easy for both myself and people my age to get reeled in quickly into that idea.

(I don’t want parents reading this to think that this necessarily entails that social media needs to be taken from their teenagers, but it is something to be aware of. Social media is a great way to stay connected (especially now) and gives us a voice to do good and bring change, as well.)

THE SOCIAL FACTOR

Because this is an issue that most of the youth deals with, whether it be minor or major, it can become a competition without intending it to be. If my friends are losing weight, why aren’t I? If they’re doing this diet, then I need to. They feel better about themselves than I do. What am I doing wrong?

If you find yourself feeling like this too often, and it gets to a point where it gets in the way of your relationships, then it’s a conversation to be had. You shouldn’t have to feel like you are competing with those you hold close to you, but you also shouldn’t feel like you have to walk on eggshells every time you are with them to not say the wrong thing. Find some common ground, and support each other at times of insecurity.

High school can be a terrible atmosphere for someone who feels like their weight isn’t ideal. Teenagers are quick to make mindless comments and insults about people’s appearance. Whether it comes from a place of low self-esteem themselves or not, it doesn’t justify it, and this can be a direct and harsh cause of body image problems.

THE MENTAL FACTOR

If someone struggles with general anxiety, depression, or another mental condition, having your body as an enemy can sometimes heighten the severity of the issue as a whole. It truly goes hand in hand. For me, my anxiety was at its worst when my eating habits were at its worst. I was focused on what I was eating, focused on what the scale read back to me, and in the rare moments I wasn’t fixed on that, it was worrying about other things happening in my life. Everything was just raised to a higher degree.

The two words I have been trying to avoid so far, “eating disorder”, is something that I would love to say is just a false or dramatic phrase, but the reality is is that it’s a demon, and a real one. With the world of social media, again, they’re often glorified to be an artsy aesthetic to be achieved. Eating disorders does not mean “just not eating”. It can be anorexia, bulimia, binge eating, body dysmorphia, and because there are so many forms, it’s not always going to be apparent just looking at a person. Often times it isn’t. That is something to keep in mind, because one of the most damaging things for someone struggling with an ED is making them feel like their issues aren’t valid because it’s not physically obvious to you, or that someone else is worse off in your eyes.

HEALING

The first step that has helped me, personally, is just becoming comfortable. I need to become comfortable with myself in the way I am now for me to appreciate any way my body looks in the future. If I’m unhappy with myself now, when am I ever going to be happy, regardless of the supposed improvements I’m making? It’s been a tricky thing for me to figure out, but I force myself to go to pool parties, I hang out around the house sometimes just wearing underwear, so I can become familiar and comfortable with seeing myself and my body so I can reach a point to where that’s normal.

The next thing is to follow the steps that you know are going to be beneficial and healthy for you. If that means working out to gain muscle, to lose weight, or dieting, then do it, BUT do it in such a way that is going to be, again, beneficial. Don’t go to the extremes for quicker results, because you will end up falling down a hole that will be hard to climb out of.

Lastly, if you see fit, go to therapy! There’s a large stigma around therapy as it makes people think that those who go are insane or can’t function on their own, which is far from the truth. Think of it as more of a helping hand from someone who has a different view and has solutions that may be overall helpful. Reading this blog is simply just how I see things, and that goes for any post I make. I am not a professional. I am not an expert. I am an eighteen year-old that just wants to share his experiences in order to bring awareness. There are many great therapists out there, and there are several websites you can visit to find one that meets your needs specifically.

I am overjoyed to see that the modeling industry, for example, is heading in a more positive direction as far as inclusivity goes. Plus-size models, LGBTQ+, and people of color are booking shows, spreads, and can be seen on billboards. This is just the start, and the rest lies within everyone as people to stop shaming others for their appearance, because if we didn’t from the beginning, there would be no reason for anyone to feel uncomfortable in their own skin to begin with. Imagine a world free of judgment for a moment. Imagine how differently every single person on the planet would be living. It’s something to think about.

I want to reiterate--don’t be afraid to ask for help! It is a direct demonstration of strength, rather than weakness, to admit that you need an outside source to help you get through whatever battle you may be experiencing.

And as always, be kind to one another and stay safe out there!

2 notes · View notes

neshabeingchildish · 5 years

Text

Poly Wanna? Ch.3

A/N: Anonymous Guest - If you’d like to have a chat about these things, say it with your chest, and I’ll say my part. We’ll have an exchange. If you want to use the space set aside for reviews without identification or giving me the opportunity to reply to you personally, then I have to give you the two cents here and everyone has to be subjected to it. It’s an M rating story, so I’ll presume you have your big girl panties on and can take a reply and for anyone else around, in case they have some confusion about my stand on these things, this applies to all.

I just want to remind everybody that this is free labor and if you want somebody to do anything on your timetable, you oughtta go ahead and fund them. You don’t? Cool. Take wtf they’re willing to give you. Or leave it. None of us have to be here. If you’re here because you would love to read a story that I am currently writing, I’d love for you to stick around and will give you the best story that my skills have to offer, free of charge and therefore not obliged to demands. If you’re here to be an executive producer with a production schedule, you made a wrong turn at the intersection of Fuck You and Pay Me. Thanks for your time. I understand if ours together has come to an end. Read what brings you what you want to see and feel, and I’ll write what brings me that WHEN I write it!

I will abandon this and delete it before turning over authority on what happens here to anybody, or subjecting myself to being treated like a content mule. Juneteenth happened, Sis. You don’t have no slaves here. In the immortal words of my mama, and many-a-Black-mamas, “I’m not one of your lil’ friends.” You better approach me like you got some sense if you trying to ASK ME to do something for my consideration. Peace and many blessings. And now, my update…

@adorkable-blackgirl @chenoahchantel @cactus-con @up-the-tube @riebellion @itsyaapollochild@oof–musicals @lesbian-so-what @woahjusttakeiteasy-man @meadowstryingtobepretty @imma-sensitive-btch @okaygal21 @midernacht @divinereign4ever @xoxoemille

A Very Henry Morning

Henry generally woke up in just enough time to blend some juice and watch the sunrise over Swellview, the city that he fought everyday to protect. It was a lasting ritual, from whenever he was with Charlotte. She would always get up super early for yoga and meditation, blend them some juice, then, he’d get up and watch the sun rise with her. The first time, she tapped him to wake him and said, “Sorry to wake you, but you’ve gotta see this.” He quickly rushed out of bed, wondering if a Swellview emergency was underway. This was more important! She went to the balcony of their apartment, cute body clad in her yoga gear and just stared at the rising sun, in awe. “It’s like whenever the day starts anew, not only is it another chance to get things a little more right, but she really brings the day in, in style.” Charlotte was smiling as the morning got gradually brighter and staring at the lifebringing star until it became too bright to behold. Henry was looking at her.

He wanted to ask her if she really thought that was worth waking him up this early, knowing that he went to sleep late at night after crime fighting, but just the way she drank it all in and the way it became a little brighter and a little warmer as he drank her in… Instead, he’d said, “Tomorrow, wake me up earlier! We almost missed it,” and gave her a kiss on her cheek. Presently, he had been doing this without her now for 6 years. “She really brings the day in, in style,” he would say out loud to himself, every time. For years, he did it hoping that Charlotte was somewhere out there, doing the same and that for that moment in time, they were connected again. He would imagine her in whatever her current form had been from (cyberstalking her) and he would recall the way that she looked whenever they first did this.

When he was with Jasper, he didn’t share that moment with him. It seemed unfair to Charlotte, even though even being involved with Jasper was another betrayal of sorts, the sunrise was holy. It was set apart. It was a part of he and Char that was too big, too bright for anybody, even her to ever be able to take away from him… and he was too selfish to share it with anybody else, even Jasper.

Now, his internal clock was set to make the juice and go to the terrace. He watched the sunrise and then, and only then was he willing to begin his day. Henry usually finished off his juice before the sun rose fully and put the glass into the wash when he came back in. He grabbed his watering pot and went to water all of his plants that needed it and simply check in with the ones that didn’t. “The sunrise was beautiful today. Forecast is that she might scorch you if I let you outside, but I’ll definitely let her in, so she can kiss you all on your little faces,” he said. He himself kissed flowers. He himself touched them lovingly, talked to them, asked nothing more of them than for them to be healthy and flourish, but sometimes shared his life with them. Henry had a therapist, but he knew whenever he spoke to his therapist that he was speaking to a therapist and he, as a therapist sometimes worried about whether he was handling his own therapy properly, or if his fears got into the way of his needs. Speaking with his plants helped him to figure out when he was being unreasonable, irrational, or counterproductive. Because, the way that he spoke with them was like one would a child that they love with their whole heart, explaining things for them to understand, and being honest and realistic, but protecting them from one’s own problems. Accountability mattered when you spoke with someone you loved. You would honestly do whatever you could to make sure that they don’t see you differently and make the declarations to better yourself to them. He did that with his plants, then shared the genuine portions that he walked away with for therapy. They kept him honest.

He kept a 3 foot garden statue of Blodeuwedd in his home and had various depictions of her flowers form in artwork all over the place, along with other deities, myths, legends associated with flowers. He’d keep statues nearby the plants to “protect them,” in that way that a dad looks underneath the bed and in the closet for monsters. He’d collected Flora, Khloris, Hegemone, among others but, Blodeuwedd was his favorite, for some reason. Unless you counted Dionysus! Now, one thing about that guy was that he was known mostly for his partying, yeah? Wine, fertility, ritual madness… People generally thought orgies and drunkenness… which… make no mistake, Henry was not opposed to and would even call himself a fan, but Dionysus was also, among these other fun things, god of the grape harvest… He was a god of fruitfulness and vegetation! Henry felt like it was unfair to simply see him as a wild hedonist when he was to thank for fertility and cultivation. Henry was pro-fair… And maybe, just maybe identified with the demigod, just a little bit.

Folk rarely saw the portion of Henry that loved as hard as he did when he experienced the sun saying good morning to all of nature and made his first moves of her arrival an offering to those who could not live without her. Now, let’s not get ahead of ourselves, Henry Hart is no mystic. He doesn’t worship the sun, the plants, or any of the gods and goddess spread around his home for the aesthetics. But, whenever he spent time with these plants, whenever he gave love to his flowers, he believed in something greater than himself, and that was all of the faith that he needed to go out and protect this world everyday.

People were fine, or whatever… but also they were human. They were the threats to nature, to the earth, the environment, and all that the sun shone on everyday. Mister Feelgood never had to fight an animal. It was always people that did the evil that required his life’s work to exist. Many moons ago, he had fought a bear, but since then wondered if other steps might have been taken. Captain Man was not one to really do the sensible thing in a fight scenario.

As he got older, Henry tried to figure out ways to best avoid a fight. He was fast approaching 30, probably would reach it before he knew it, and he was in great shape - the best shape of his life, but he also knew that this vessel expiration date. He wasn’t Captain Man. He wasn’t indestructible, and some of his peers were already discussing that the warranties on their knees had lapsed. A few years ago, he might have replied, “RIP to them, but I’m different.” But, he was showing signs of power failure, himself. He became sore more easily than he did as Kid Danger, well, since the early days, at least. He was sore all of the time from ages 13-15. He thought it would never stop. That his body would ache for the rest of his life.

By 16, he was accustomed to his hypermotility, trained to perfection in its usage and skilled beyond his wildest thoughts in fighting technique. He didn’t have a single pain for almost 2 years. Then, Rick Twitler stripped him of that. The soreness increased, as he spent more energy to get used to things, but he adjusted pretty quickly and became just as trained and skilled with his normal Henry body. It worked out for him for years, in and out of that outfit. But, by 25, he started getting a little more tired than usual.

He worked on his diet and regulated his energy levels better. Within another year, he started feeling like he needed more sleep at night. He began a vitamin regimen and looked into some natural remedies for fatigue and sleep deprivation. Now, even his libido was changing. Pre-Charlotte Henry kissed strangers, made out with hot villains, hooked up with any cute flavor that would give him the time of day. That seemed to be normal teenage behavior, in his mind. Post-Charlotte Henry was a little more reserved for a while. He’d had this life changing relationship, failed at it, and wanted to proceed with either extreme self destruction, or instant carnal gratification. There was no in between. He either was a hermit, or a hoe, for months after they broke up, and only tried to moderate that whenever he began seeing Jasper.

Unfortunately for Jasper, Post-Charlotte Henry was still suffering when he picked up what they had, so… while he was truly trying, he still had the tendency to accelerate from hubby to harlot goals in a heartbeat. Unfortunately for Jasper, Henry had not yet gotten to the point where he could honestly and objectively take a look at his own fuckery and see where he messed up and he certainly wasn’t about tackling sorting through his own heartbreak so that he wouldn’t become one of those hurt people who hurt people. Unfortunately for Henry, Jasper was a keeper, and he was still so heartbroken that he lost the one keeper that he could acknowledge back then, that he lost ANOTHER. How the fuck did you throw away two keepers, you egotistical, emotionally stunted, self-centered, sex crazed… He stopped himself. Speak about your mistakes in the same way that you would speak to a friend about theirs. When you have no friends that you can think of, though… Speak to yourself like you would speak to the lost ones. To Charlotte. To Jasper…

He grabbed his hygiene bag - it was like a tactical control bag, but full of his facial and skin care, dental products, and his cleansing and fragrance supplies. The bag was full of things that he used on a daily basis, and also his weekly and monthly care. Henry took care of himself. His hair, skin, and teeth were always a priority that he was sure rubbed off from Char, too. Hell, they were together the first 4 years after graduation. Those were formative years for him. He used to wash his face and body with the same damn soap, his face with his hands and his body with a loofah that he always kept until it fell apart. He used to brush his teeth within 40 seconds. His hair took the most time of everything he did and all he ever did was wash it with a shampoo and conditioner 2 in 1… and if he ran out, the same damn soap he washed his face and body with!

Charlotte got him into separate cleaners and applicators. Like, whenever he washed his face, he didn’t even do so in the shower, because he had an entire process to make sure his face was well cared for and the shower wash wouldn’t be timed right for it. Usually, he did wipe his face in the shower, because of washing his hair and the water and steam, but he didn’t really wash it until he did his face after the shower. The shower itself, he would wash his hair, let conditioner set in it and then wash his body, some of his parts had different cloths, ALL of the cloths went into the laundry when he finished washing up. He always moisturized his damp skin, and put on his deodorant before his facial routine, which was kind of extensive, but had him looking better at 27 than he had at 17, meanwhile… not to say that Jasper looked bad, but… He definitely hadn’t aged as well as Henry and Char had and perhaps she’d help him, like she helped Henry.

Her influence had helped him become the casanova that he dreamed himself to be when he was younger. Though lately, his desire had been limited. He didn’t even get off on the thrill of the chase anymore. He was super focused on this television project, so he thought maybe that might be affecting things. He wondered and worried if throughout recording that he might have to play up his sexual conquests so that his life would look more like it had looked for the past few years, or if the show would simply redefine him, or worse, make him look like he was faking for TV, since he didn’t seem to want to go on any dates at the moment. He always went on dates. People knew that. If he wasn’t on a date, he was at a party and he was coming home with somebody’s date.

He had family game night at his parents’ neighbors’ house a couple of weeks before and whenever they were playing word association games. Someone said Henry, and every member of his family said one of the following list: Slut, sex, and STD. He didn’t want to say who said what but at the same time that he told Piper, “I have never once had an STD. I’m a sex therapist for crying out loud!” his mother was asking his father, “Why would you say SEX?” And his “I’m a sex therapist for crying out loud!” Conveniently replied to both Piper and his mom. But… he was still a little embarrassed. Nobody said gardening or flowers. Nobody said therapist. Nobody said even the word that he had been to them for 27 years, 21 for Piper - son, brother, dude who lived with us? He sighed. That was worse than that time that one of Piper’s friends referred to him, not even as Piper’s promiscuous brother… “What was the point of the adjective?” he’d asked.

He wasn’t embarrassed so much as hurt, a little bit. Because all throughout his adolescence, nobody knew him outside of being a friend to hometown faves. Charlotte Page, the smartest girl in town. Jasper Dunlop, a hero and an activist against unjust laws. Ray Manchester, the longest running most handsome man in Swellview. Piper “the Queen of Harts,” child commercial actress and self made public figure/influencer. And someone actually told him, “Honestly, I don’t think anybody would care how many chicks you banged if you weren’t Piper Hart’s brother. You’re a sex therapist and probably a sex addict and you have a sister who began the Holdin’ Out for a Hero chastity challenge.”

Little did that person know, that challenge got Mister Feelgood as much ass as Henry Hart. But, now, for some reason, he couldn’t even think about doing that. He wasn’t sure what was wrong with him until today’s shower. Up until then, he just presumed he was getting old and tired of it. Like, dating was exhausting sometimes and parties seemed louder than they used to. Sex? Still awesome. That could never change, but… whenever he had the chance for any, he would prefer to pass.

He had a date the night that he asked Jasper to speak with him about the venture. “I wanna ask Charlotte, as well, but I still have no access to her,” Henry said, casually. There wasn’t a hint of sadness in his voice or even in his heart at that moment, because it had been nearly seven years and Charlotte being out of the loop and out of his life was commonplace, now.

“Does it pay, because I can probably get her to entertain the thought, if it does?” Jasper asked.

“Who are you talking about?” Henry heard a voice ask in the close background… Like real close… like.. Either hovering right over Jasper’s shoulder, or sitting in his lap close.

“Shhh. You,” Jasper said. Like… their voices seemed to be coming from the same place.

“Don’t you SHHH me!” She snapped and it was right in Henry’s ear! Like she was holding the phone. Even with her being loud and angry in his ear, this was one of the sweetest sounds Henry had heard in years. Her actual voice. She sounded different, older, but pretty much the same. Her language and tone definitely brought back memories. All he had was old footage of her at different times. This was more than he bargained for whenever he called Jasper’s phone. He didn’t even know that they were in communication with each other and they sounded… so close…

She and Jasper were fussing and sounded like tussling, probably Jasper trying to move the phone away as he softly said, “Henry’s asking me about meeting up with him at the old spot about some business.”

“Oh,” she said, and then her voice faded into the background saying, “Well, yeah, I’d talk to Henry for money, I guess.”

Jasper whispered something to her that Henry couldn’t hear, then it sounded like he kissed her? Then it sounded like she giggled. Henry… felt… so odd in that moment. Jasper returned to the call and said, “Sorry. Charlotte knocked me off of the bed,” he laughed.

“The bed?” Henry repeated, halfway in a daze, halfway like he didn’t understand the word or phrase the bed was what you said about your bed. Was he and Charlotte in this bed together?

“Yeah,” Jasper seemed to read his mind. “You.. haven’t seen any of my posts tagging her?”

“No, she has me blocked on everything.”

“Yeah, but I don’t.”

“She actually went into the programs and made them to where Schwoz can’t hack her, so I’m sure she’s got a way for me to not even be able to see her through someone else’s feed.”

“Oh… well…” Jasper laughed a little bit uncomfortably. He had thought that Henry knew, but he could tell that he was just putting it together, “We’re a couple now!” He cheered. “It’s still new, but… yeah..”

Henry wasn’t quite sure which of the multitude of emotions would wind up taking over for the night, but in that moment while he let a silent tear fall, he cleared his throat, put on his happiest voice and said, “That’s awesome for both of you! You two deserve people like each other. Bring her along to the brownstone for the meeting, then. That’ll be good..” After he hung up, he cancelled his date. He didn’t want to put his mixture of emotions on anyone else tonight. That night, he opened a bottle of wine that he was saving for some special occasion or another… He never really had special occasions, so mostly wine that he saved for special occasions either remained right where they were, or rarely, there were nights like that night, where the occasion was that he found out the love of his life and the person he regretted hurting the most were together… and he didn’t know which one of them was which, even as he contemplated that fact. Both of them were, in their own ways, the love of his life. Charlotte had been his first love. Jasper had been his second chance. He didn’t fully grasp either of their importance until their presences were snatched away. Neither of them are that foolish. They’ll recognize what they have in each other and it will last forever. His lost ones. The ones that got away. They’ll have a great love. A beautiful love. A strong love. And… he might not ever be able to witness it, if he can’t charm Charlotte into putting up with him, but maybe worse, he’ll be able to and have access to her, then he’ll see it take place and mourn from the outside that they had (what they deserved) without him. He drank the entire bottle and fell asleep on the daybed on the terrace. He hadn’t felt sexual since then.

But, after he met up with Charlotte and Jasper, something happened. He grabbed his hygiene bag, like we covered before, he went to prep and recalled how Charlotte helped him step his game up, then he was thinking about when they used to share showers. She liked that. Sharing showers and stories in the steam, washing each other’s backs and each other’s hair, kissing, touching, oiling each other up to nourish the skin… everything else.

He wondered as he was washing off if she was doing that with Jasper now… Making him hotter, cleaner, flawless, while engaging in conversations that bring them closer together and just being sexy AF in the process. If they were in the shower, kissing, touching… everything else and before he knew it, he definitely was feeling sexual again. His libido had not failed him after all. It was the shower, so he made quick work of handling his business and moving along. However, when he got out of the shower, and prepared to do his face, he saw that he looked refreshed. He looked happy again. He at least looked like he was himself, again. So… Maybe he wouldn’t be on any dates any time soon, but fantasizing about Charlotte and Jasper wasn’t harming anyone and seemed to help him a lot this morning. So, that was what he would do, if he needed that.

#Poly Wanna #Nesha HD Fics #henry danger #henry hart #charlotte page #jasper dunlop #hd ot3 #Accidentally posted on the main if you got a dead tag

14 notes · View notes

scarlettswxtch · 5 years

Text

You Feel Like Home | 1/2

Pairing: Bucky x Reader

Description: You’re a therapist with a tragic past and Bucky’s your new bedmate. You try to deny your feelings for him but he keeps working himself into your heart...and your bed. Will you fall for his charms or keep him at bay?

Words: 3.1k

Warnings: Little bit of angst. All my fics are intended for 18+ readers: this mini series will contain + death.

A/N: I wrote this in a plane, on my way home from Easter holidays so I’m v sorry for any spelling mistakes! :) This was written for an anon - I kinda slightly changed your request up a bit, hope that’s okay ! hope this is (kinda) what you were looking for x Also Jesus Christ I can’t do one shots I just write a fuck ton. Lol. I’m posting part 2 tomorrow!! :)

MASTERLIST

You were in a grocery store when you first realised you were in love with him. He wanted ice cream even though it was cold outside - the wind was biting, chilling and New York was covered in perfect snow. He couldn’t decide what flavour of ice cream he wanted and you teased him about his indecision. “Why don’t we buy every flavour?”

He laughed - soft, innocent laughter in the air like glitter. The kind of laugh you could listen to forever. “You’re silly,” he said, green eyes sparkling with adoration and he kissed you.

You’ll never forget that kiss. Breath pale against the numbing air, you blinked thoughtfully as the frost patiently kissed his face and you were captivated by the soft, dusty illusions of light that sat heavy on his eyelashes. In that moment, you knew you loved him more than anyone, a once in a lifetime.

***

2 years later

“Talk to me,” you whispered to no one, sitting alone in the very early morning of crisp November. It was cold outside but, you didn’t care. It was snowing again, thick and deep and freezing cold. There were a few clouds but the moon shone bright and gilded you in silver but, you didn’t notice it. You saw nothing and heard nothing.

You’d been up here countless times before their deaths. His death - etched in your memory like it was yesterday.

It happened so fast. You were wrapped in his arms; laughing, kissing, telling each other sweet nothings. His lips tipped up and he looked at you like you were sunshine. You’ll never forget that look - how moments later it filled with horror and panic.

A figure appeared out of a bright, blinding red light; an ominous warning of what would come. It was a woman - beautiful, slender, with eyes uncanny to his; round, green as new-born leaves. She had his eyes but she didn’t look at you with adoration. No. Her eyes slithered on your form like it was insulting, gaze almost red with resentment. When she spoke it was melodic yet she spat her words with hot-red fury. “I have to kill you,” she said and when you asked her why your heart wanted to leap out of its chest. Your daughter. His daughter. Our daughter. “HYDRA’s orders,” she spat and he pulled you behind him without a second thought, sacrificing his life for yours, blood marring the dirt as his form became nothing but a corpse.

You stared at the ground - snow once blood stained long washed away or mingled with dirt. You didn’t know why you kept coming here. You wanted to hear his voice, see his face, replace that final look of fear and tell him everything would be ok. Instead, you sat there, dominated by a profound sadness, fatigue engraved on your worn face. No longer could you see see that inquisitiveness, that desire, that fire in your eyes. All that remained was the deceiving hollow soul. You were just a shell of a person.

***

3 months later

“Would it kill you to come to dinner?,”

You drew absentminded doodles on the piece of paper in front of you as your lips pursed in discomfort. Yes, yes it would kill you to go to dinner at Jane’s house.

“Jane,” you said into the phone “like I told you, I’m really busy,”

“But I thought you said you’d have some free time coming up?,”

Your eyes closed over in exasperation. Jane was your dead boyfriend’s sister and there truly was nothing worse than being around his family. “I was but things got busy. Very busy. I can’t make dinner this week,”

“How about next week?,” she pushed.

“Janey...”

“I’m worried about you, I haven’t seen you in months! I mean, who’s taking care of you?,”

“Jane honey, I’m a grown woman.”

“But I worry about you. Ever since you took that job I haven’t seen you,” she whispered, this time sad and concerned and, because you loved her, it killed you. You knew she was worried. You and Jane had been the best of friends before his passing, attached to the hip like sisters. When he died, you couldn’t bare her presence - she looked so much like him it physically hurt you. Jane was flighty, sensitive and nervous by nature. Therefore, she constantly checked up on you despite your excuses to avoid her. That, and, you now lived in New York with hero’s that needed your constant attention.

“Don’t worry,” you assure her quietly “I’m fine. Just busy.”

“Pardon me, Miss, but Mr.Barnes is requesting your presence,” F.R.I.D.A.Y says from above you and your pen comes to a halt.

“Jane I gotta go,” you say quickly.

“But-“ she began.

“Somethings just came up, honey. Really, gotta go. I’ll call you back later,” that was a lie.

You heard her sigh then, “Okay, I’ll be waiting for that call.”

“Love you Jane, bye.” you hear her say goodbye but vaguely.

“Send him in,” you say to F.R.I.D.A.Y, fingers now tapping nervously on your mahogany desk. Being a therapist for the Avengers has its perks and downsides - on one hand, you were generously paid (courtesy of Stark himself, of course) but on the other, you were on call 24/7. Not that that was an issue for you, no - not at all. Helping other people with their problems had helped your own inner conflict and you did it rather readily.

The problem was Bucky Barnes. He's not usually the kind of guy you fantasise about. For starters, he's brunette and you’ve always liked blondes. Dreamy men with bright blue eyes who were emotionally stable, preferably. Until you met Bucky. He’s someone with his own issues, issues that made your own seem totally minuscule. Life taken by Hydra, experimented on endlessly. He‘s emotionally volatile, prone to aggression and...drop dead beautiful in every way.

There was also the fact that you were sleeping with him. Non-stop. Like two damn bunny rabbits. It was insane. He’s the only healthy drug there is, the one that puts your mind into a frenzy of sparks. Makes you...forget. When you’re with him, your past life seems like a dream - something that never happened. The simple touch of his hand leads you into moving in ways you never learnt but know so well. In those moments, you are only alive in the present, all thoughts of past and future melted away. You weren’t sure if that was good or bad but, the guilt you felt over it was overwhelming.

The elevator opens directly into your office and you watch him step in, phone to ear, he hasn't looked at you yet so you gaze freely. “Yeah yeah, Steve I got it,” he says into the phone. There's something about him, a slight confidence and inflated ego, that has you muddling your words and blushing uncontrollably whenever he's around. He looks up at you and smiles a dazzling smile, making his way to your desk. “I’ll see you later punk, I got a woman that needs my attention.” he says, eyes still on you and you can hear Steve’s hearty laugh through the phone before he hangs up.

“Hey darlin’,” his voice is smooth as silk as he leans over, placing a kiss on your warm cheek. He’s holding a coffee cup that he places in front of you and he sits down on the velvet green chair opposite your desk - looking all handsome and comfortable. You suddenly felt small in your own office - his energy completely enveloped the room. It was always like this with Bucky. He was an intense guy who commanded everyone’s attention - it was completely impossible for him to walk into a room unnoticed.

You eyed the coffee cup, smiling “That for me?”

“Got your name on it, doll,” He said lazily, head bent as he tapped away on his phone. You took it giddily, bringing it up to your face and smelling the hint of hazelnut. You smiled to yourself - you only ever ordered coffee with him once and ever since, he’s remembered exactly how you like it: a little milk, 2 pumps of hazelnut syrup and no sugar. It was a small thoughtful thing but, so very heartwarming.

“Hmm, what’s the occasion?”

“Consider that a gift,” he said, sliding his phone back in his pocket.

You raised a brow, scanning your memory for anything you’d done to solicit a gift and you came up blank “What for?” you were frowning now as you sip your coffee.

He kept a straight face, he was looking at you with those gorgeous, irresistible icy blue eyes that could make the whole of the Arctic melt in seconds. “For you coming to Tony’s event with me.” That almost made you choke. Bucky and you were many things but explicitly public was not one of them.

Your eyes turn round as you abruptly placed the coffee cup on the table, a little warm droplet spilled on your hand and you unconsciously wiped it on your skirt. Well, say hello to a stain now, idiot. “What?”

“You and me, Tony’s charity gala,” he said simply, completely un-phased.

“What? Bucky I never agreed to that”

“Don’t need you to agree doll, I’m telling you,”

You stared at him speechlessly. Bucky was a dominant guy - you knew that the second he first walked into your room and sat his ass down on your chair like he owned the place. The only vulnerability he ever showed was during your therapy sessions, when you’d both speak about Hydra and his past with Steve. Other than that, you could be damn well sure Bucky Barnes would dominate you in every way possible and damn if it wasn’t hot. Sometimes, only sometimes, you felt like you could see some of that softness when he was in your bed but, he never let you see it for long enough. You didn’t blame him - you pushed him away a lot.

He raised a brow at your quietness and you realised you hadn’t said anything for about a full minute now. “Uhh,” you began, damn him and his tongue-tying effects! “Bucky I’m not so sure that is professional considering I’m your therapist-,”

“Darlin’ I think we’re way past professionalism,” he interrupted, leaning closer to you - he was looking at you with heat in his eyes as his gaze lazily flickered from your desk to your eyes “Whole of New York heard you scream my name when I took you on that desk,” he muttered, loud enough for you to hear.

You swallowed, heat flushing your face as a sudden tingling sensation took over your stomach. “Bucky I cant - I...it’s different for the public to know. You’re not exactly lowkey.” It’s true. He isn’t. The Avengers are all high profile people constantly all over the news - from dating to getting a coffee cup across the street, you could be sure their faces would be somewhere on the front page. You experienced that first hand when you were spotted out with Steve. Headlines covered both newspapers and magazines in bold red letters: AMERICA’S SWEETHEART? They read - totally ridiculous considering you were only getting coffee but apparently, the public obsessed over Steve’s love life. Jane had called you asking if you were dating and you panicked so much you vowed to never step foot outside with any of them again. Except for Tony and Barton who were happily married.

Bucky stood up, face flashing with something that faded too quick for you to spot “Doll seriously, I’m tired of you denying that we have something here. It started off as just sex,” he leaned into the desk, face dangerously close to yours “we both know it’s a lot more,” he whispered and your heart started beating irregularly fast. He wasn’t wrong. It was...more. He made you feel good in ways no one else ever has - not even him. Bucky made you forget him. That made you feel incredibly guilty because he was supposed to be your soulmate - he still is in some ways. Yet Bucky got this response from you, a different kind of response - like necessity - as if your soul yearned to knit itself to his and it killed you. So much so it hurt to ignore it.

“I-I I can’t,”

“Why?”

“I have...I just can’t do that to him, Bucky,” your eyes lowered as you looked away from him “I still love him,” you said, jaw tight “please, let it go.”

You were met with silence and you peered up at him. He was staring at you with that hardness in his eyes - the same hardness you saw each night when you asked him to leave your room. His jaw twitched in what you could only guess was impatience, frustration, annoyance...perhaps all three?

“The more you hold onto the past the more it haunts you,” he mutters and his eyes search your face - voice lowering, almost soft. “Don’t think I don’t see the way you look at me across the room, sugar” his hand curls around your neck, squeezing it and your body shivers at the contact. “I know that look,” he whispers - gaze so raw you could only squirm beneath it. “I’m here right now, in the present. I won’t wait for you forever.”

You swallowed as your heart clenched “Bucky let go,” you said, so quietly that if he hadn’t been so close to you it would’ve been inaudible.

But Bucky Barnes was not done. You’d know this when he was not across the table but in your space. So far in your space, you were now standing and your soft body was pressed against the length of his, his hand curled around the back of your neck, demanding, putting pressure to bend your neck up as your lips connected. You put your hands to his shoulders to push him away, your mind filled with how you could do that as gently as possible when his tongue came out and the tip touched your lips. And at that, your body and mouth made another decision before your mind could catch up. This being your arms closing around him tight, his mouth opening yours, his tongue spiking out, pushing yours back into your mouth and then he kissed you, very hard, very wet and very, very deep. He tasted like mint - sweet and fresh and fucking fantastic.

You kept one of your hands locked tight around his bicep while you slid the other hand up his spine, his neck and into his hair. He bent forward slightly, arching over his arm, forcing your body deeper into his and you moaned a sweet, soft moan against his tongue. It was the best thing you’d ever tasted in your life until he pulled away.

You looked up at him, breathless and outraged at the same time - smugness was written across his features as he stepped away from you. He was smirking now as if you’d just told him what he needed to know “I’ll wait for that RSVP,” he said and finally strolled out of your office.

***

3 hours later

Nat was looking at you from across the table, face totally impassive. You told her everything to the minutest detail that happened between Bucky and you. And it was fair to say you remembered the minutest detail.

Through this, she listened.

When you were done, you asked quietly, “Well?”

She simply stared at you, eyebrow raised and book in hand, “Was there a question?”

You looked at her incredulously “Yes! What do you think I should do?” You slumped back into your chair, hand covering your face as you grumbled: “God Nat I’m so torn, he makes me feel good but-“

“All I’m hearing is excuses,” she interrupted suddenly and you peeked at her from behind your fingers. She was looking at you with her judge-y jade green eyes.

“Nat he freaks me out!” You exclaimed and she suddenly took your hand in hers. She was staring at you with an unusual softness and you felt incredibly lucky at that moment. You knew this caring side was something Natasha rarely showed to people - it was something she had only gifted you twice in your time of knowing each other and each time, you took that look of hers and locked it away in your heart to keep forever.

“I get that,” she says softly “I also get why. You’re scared of moving on, feeling guilty because of what happened. I’ll tell you this though, nothing good comes of dwelling on the past,” she echoed Bucky’s earlier words and your heart clenched because you knew she was right. “You should know that - you’re the therapist here. Follow your own advice. Besides, from what you told me, who you were with was not a selfish person. He would’ve wanted you to be happy - not be a nun and never find love again. I think we both know that...you’re just having trouble accepting it.” She let go of your hand and leaned back in her chair, face turned up to the February sun.

“God I hate it when you’re right,” you grumbled, fingers massaging your temples in contemplation.

“I’m always right,” she says without looking at you. “You already know Barnes. He’s got a lot of demons, but he’s good around you - we all see that he’s been better ever since you.”

You closed your eyes “Oh God-“

“What we gossiping about here?” A voice said from the kitchen door and you squealed at the unexpected interruption. It was Tony.

Nat was about to say something before you quickly interrupted her with wide eyes. “Nothing!,” you said, and Tony’s eyes assess you in thought but (thankfully) chose to say nothing of what he was thinking.

“Right...” he drawled before he distractedly began pressing at the advanced looking gadget on his hand.

“Need you in the office, sweet cheeks, ASAP.” He said, waving at you to follow him and you promptly got up from your chair.

“Right away boss,” you said and followed him. You turned around quickly to face Nat “Thank you,” you mouthed to her. She only nodded in response and went back to reading her book.

As you followed Tony, something told you you’d have a very, very difficult time trying to get Bucky Barnes out of your head and the truth is...you weren’t even sure you wanted to.

#bucky x reader #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes imagine #bucky barnes fanfiction #bucky barnes x reader smut #winter solider imagine #winter solider x reader #bucky barnes x reader angst #bucky imagine #bucky barnes

71 notes · View notes

ahiddenpath · 5 years

Text

Life Update

It’s a personal therapy update, so keep scrolling if you’re not up for that. Text wall below the cut.

I don’t know if these need trigger warnings, but the post includes talk about therapy, anxiety, and nonspecific mentions of abuse.

Man, I wish I even knew where to start!

Update on my dad situation: His eye doctor cleared him to drive, but he still hasn’t had a neurologist appointment. He promptly had another car accident in his newly-repaired car. So, that’s... fun. (I’m told there were no injuries. I was also told that the doctors would know his situation a month ago).

My mother is losing her mind working 55 hour weeks to supporting someone she... doesn’t like. I’ve tried gently making suggestions for her options, but she shoots them all down. I’ve read so many books and articles about abuse that explain how difficult it is for victims to even entertain the idea of leaving, but I still struggle when I see it in action.

This incident has sort of... Hmm. Have you ever been to a beach the day before and after a hurricane? Before, there are a few seashells on the shore. After, you need sandals to walk because the churned sea has vomited its contents. There are shells worn to daggers by waves, driftwood caked with dying strata of invertebrates, jellyfish trailing loaded streamers, and gooey, squishy things you don’t care to name.

I thought I was doing so well in therapy, but I fell apart last week. My therapist tries to redirect me. Basically- how do I say this- I thought that something happens, and I have an emotional response to it. It turns out that there is a middle stage. Something happens, my belief system processes it, and then I reach a conclusion that often takes form in an emotion. Ergo, if you’re using cognitive behavior therapy, you think about why you’re feeling that emotion, what you can do to mitigate it, if needed, and take care of yourself.

Sometimes, the problem isn’t even what someone did; it’s how my belief system processed it. My anxiety can turn people’s good intentions into attacks, and I need to identify when that’s happening and let go of unwarranted negative emotions. On the other hand, my history of having to appease and please my parents (mostly my father) in attempts to avoid abuse has taught me to allow people to hurt me, and I need to recognize when that’s happening, too.

I’m able to do this with my coworkers. For example, I have a coworker who is... frankly, an ass. When he upsets me, I talk myself out of the anger/stress/frustration. It’s improved my life.

But I found that there’s something I can’t talk myself out of. My therapist was explaining reasons why my mother isn’t escaping her husband (learned behaviors, fear of change, financial abuse, etc). One moment, I was wondering why my mom won’t protect herself. Then, suddenly, it shifted to me saying out loud... “I don’t understand why no one protected me when I was a child.”

AND I STARTED BAWLING, it was awful, I’ve never cried during therapy, not even during my first visit, when I explained the kind of abuse I went through. It turns out that there’s a big ‘ol wad of resentment/disappointment/anger/pain at the core of every issue I have with my parents. And, like... That should be obvious??? Right???? Like, I knew that... But I didn’t realize how much it was coloring my decisions and hurting me.

When my therapist tries to redirect me on an issue with my parents/points me back to my belief system, I don’t want to hear it. I feel entitled to my emotional responses. And honestly, I don’t think anyone is arguing that I’m not entitled to have feelings. But I’m the first to agree that wallowing in negative feelings is bad for me, and it’s time to let go. My life will be better if I learn to do this.

But I’m not ready yet. I’m just not.

Even though it’s so painful, I recognize that this awareness is helpful to me. I can now point to my own resentment causing my suffering, even if I think that resentment is deserved. It’s a start to a healthier mind, and I know that. But part of me is... almost... jealous of my resentment. Guarding it, hoarding it. I earned this, I think. I grew up in fear, I was not protected, and now my mother wants me to protect her from the man she didn’t protect me from.

Some of this seems fair, but even to me, some of it doesn’t. My mom has only stated an expectation to live with me once, and to let my brother live with me on a separate occasion. When she saw my chilly reaction, she didn’t bring up either again. And still, I obsess over it. Regardless, does ‘fair’ matter? Isn’t it better to try to let things go and stop wasting hours/days/weeks in anxiety sinkholes over these feelings? I need to protect myself with healthy boundaries, not resentment.

I’m not ready now, but maybe I will be soon?

As for creativity, you might have noticed that I keep throwing out new ideas recently, trying to find one exciting enough to stick. It isn’t working. I have only watched two Tri movies in preparation for Nanowrimo, too. I don’t know what I’m going to do at this point, writing wise. Frankly, it’s hard for me to care about fandom and fun. I’d like to say, “I’m focusing on caring for myself right now,” but obviously that isn’t true if I’m denying myself creativity and recreation. But I don’t know how to be interested in those things right now.

I realize this all sounds bleak, but I promise I’m not in any danger. It’s a rough spot, for sure, and I’m not fine, but I’ll hold. I’m hoping I’ll come through stronger, but I’m also starting to really understand why people avoid therapy for so long. It’s so hard! But I’ve already seen a lot of improvement, and even now, I’m learning.

I hope you’re all well, my dears!

#hidden's life #cognitive behavioral therapy #therapy #anxiety #cognitive behavior therapy

7 notes · View notes