#navigating mental health struggles

[aggressivelyaverage21]

One Shot - "One of Those Nights" Years after her service to the OCS ended, Beatrice sometimes struggled. Who better to comfort her wife than one Ava Silva?

Or

An exploration of what their life might have looked like after it all as they navigate mental health struggles, and aging, and loving eachother.

Ava rolls over in her -- their -- bed, only for her arm to fall soft to the now cool mattress beneath it where her very warm, very not memory foam, wife should be. Lately it's felt more and more like her bed, especially at this hour. An hour that Ava hardly needed to roll back over and look at her phone to confirm -- 0345 -- and ' yes Bea, will have my phone in bed, because how else am I supposed to know what time it is when you sneak out' she heaves a sigh. 

Sad. Tired. Aching for her wife. Her wife who was struggling with ghosts that haunted and futures that never would come to pass.

Beatrice got like this a few times a year. 

It was predictable. It was survivable . It was completely outside of her fault or control. But sometimes, sometimes something would trigger something in Beatrice, and God did Ava hate that word. 

But it, according to the therapist, was the appropriate use actually. 

It was less violent than a trigger pull. Not that pulling a trigger was violent - a mere bend of a finger a few centimeters, but what happened after certainly was. Beatrice knew that all too well. 

And well, maybe come to think of it, it was exactly the right word. 

Because Bea would see something or someone who maybe looked a little like Shannon on a hard day at work, or hear a song that Mary would make them all listen to on the way home from missions in the grocery store. Or any number of "annoyingly nostalgic happenstances" (Bea's words obviously). 

Sometimes it was less of that sweet hurt only loving something like that could bring, and more to do with other parts of their former life. Maybe it was a quick startle that had Beatrice’s adrenaline spiking just the wrong way for a moment remembering one of those more violent times. A noise. A motion. A smell. 

It wasn’t anything like Beatrice spiraling immediately into a fit of chest heaving breaths and frantic eyes. Though that happened occasionally at the beginning. No. Usually it looked like nothing, because that startle response had been trained out of Beatrice. But, like anyone who had ever spoken to her wife knew, Beatrice had a fucking brilliant brain, and that brain liked to think - well over think in these cases. 

Hours later, Beatrice would be stuck on those thoughts. Memories. Regrets. And she would slip into missing them, or running through missions over and over. Unable to make the broken record of it all just stop. 

So, it wasn’t immediate. Not like a bullet after a trigger. It was a slow, sometimes avoidable, creep toward the same end.

A bloodied soul that ached from the holes torn through it with more devastation as they traveled then when they first entered and scar tissue couldn’t ever really quite fill them the same.

Which then led to the not sleeping. The struggling to put thoughts to words to speech. The paralyzation between trying to put thoughts to feelings or feelings to thoughts. 

To Beatrice's credit, she always got help. She reached out to her therapist. She tried her best to communicate with Ava. She talked to ‘Mother’ because calling her Suzanne never settled quite right with her, or Camilla or Lilith. She tried all the strategies she'd gained over the years to help. And they usually did, but there were always a few days where those bandages didn’t quite fit the proverbial bullet holes. 

Today was one of those days. 

KEEP READING

[pumpkin-the-girlie-girl-vixen]

**A Man is Nothing Without His Borderline Personality Disorder Girlfriend: Hilarious Tales from the Trenches of Love**

Let’s face it: relationships can be wild rides, and when you throw in a girlfriend with borderline personality disorder (BPD), you’re in for an adventure like no other. As someone who’s been in this kind of relationship, I can confidently say that a man is nothing without his BPD girlfriend—especially when it comes to the endless stories that come from navigating the quirky world of love and mental health.

**The Emotional Rollercoaster**

First off, dating someone with BPD is like getting a VIP pass to the emotional rollercoaster of a lifetime. One moment, she’s on top of the world, showering you with love and affection like you’re the last slice of pizza at a party. The next, you’re standing in the eye of the storm, wondering why she’s suddenly convinced you’re the villain in her life story. “Did I forget to take out the trash?” you ponder, while she’s accusing you of plotting to ruin her life. Spoiler alert: No, you didn’t forget to take out the trash— but now you’re questioning every life choice you’ve ever made.

**Love and Fear of Abandonment: The Ultimate Combo**

Then there's the classic “I can’t believe you’re leaving me!” scenario every time you run to the store for milk. It’s a routine grocery trip, but suddenly, you’re walking into a scene reminiscent of a dramatic soap opera. “You’ll find someone better! I know it!” she cries, clutching her stuffed penguin like it’s the last lifeline on a sinking ship. Little do you know, this is just a friendly reminder that your seemingly mundane errand could threaten the very fabric of your relationship.

**Communication Shenanigans**

Let’s talk about communication, or as I like to call it, “The Game of Telephone on Steroids.” Conversations often morph into full-blown debates over the slightest misunderstandings. You could say, “Wow, it’s a beautiful day!” and end up with her convinced you’re subtly hinting that she’s not as bright and sunny as the weather. You know what they say: “It’s not what you say, it’s how you say it.” And trust me, if you say anything that can be interpreted as a hidden insult, you’ve just opened Pandora’s box.

**The “I Love You, I Hate You” Tango**

If you’re in it for the long haul, you’ll quickly learn that the “I love you, I hate you” tango is the official dance of your relationship. One minute, you’re cuddling on the couch, watching romantic comedies and discussing your future together. The next, you’re being accused of not caring enough because you forgot to ask about her favorite flavor of ice cream. The irony? You both just polished off a pint of her favorite flavor! But logic? Who needs that in a whirlwind romance?

**The Quirky Quirks**

Now, let’s not forget the quirky quirks that come with the territory. There are spontaneous road trips to nowhere, where you find yourself navigating to a destination you didn’t even know existed, all in the name of “let’s find ourselves!” You might even discover that your new favorite hobby is deep-diving into mental health articles, not for your sake, but to keep up with the whirlwind that is her life. You’ll laugh, you’ll cry, and by the end, you’ll probably be a certified expert in BPD—complete with a degree in emotional navigation.

**In Conclusion: Embrace the Chaos**

At the end of the day, dating a woman with borderline personality disorder may come with its challenges, but it’s also filled with unforgettable moments, lots of laughs, and a kind of love that’s fierce and unwavering. Sure, there will be bumps along the way, but every relationship has its quirks. The key is to embrace the chaos, find humor in the madness, and remember that love comes in all forms—even if it includes an emotional rollercoaster or two.

So here’s to the men out there who find themselves navigating the tumultuous waters of love with a BPD girlfriend—may your adventures be wild, your stories be hilarious, and your relationship be a journey worth taking! Just remember, without her chaotic charm, you’d be left with a very boring life…and who wants that?

@bigmikeyde ❤️ @pumpkin-the-girlie-girl-vixen

[in-tenebris-et-in-solitudine]

I’m scared because I’ve lived my life wanting to die most of the time, and now that I don’t ...

[halyorke-vampiredisaster]

Most of the time In the Flesh is just another dvd case on my shelf that I don't think about and then once in a while I go to rewatch it very innocently and 5 minutes in I'm violently run over by how fucking raw it is and by how insanely hard it hits omg

[bookishscrolls]

To the One Who Feels Stuck…

Sometimes, life doesn’t unravel the way we expect it to. There’s no big win, no defining moment of success — just a long stretch of days where everything feels… stuck. Like you’re walking through fog with no clear path ahead. Maybe you once had a plan — a dream you clung to, a direction you believed in. And maybe, like me, you followed it with everything you had… until it didn’t work out. Or…

[niggadiffusion]

Riding the Emotional Currents: Unearthing Your True Essence

Life’s rhythm often throws us into storms of emotion, where waves of anxiety, sorrow, or confusion crash against the walls of our minds. It’s in these moments—when clarity feels distant and chaos reigns—that we’re presented with an unexpected gift: the chance to dive deeper into our true selves. Emotional turmoil, though relentless and uncomfortable, becomes the gateway to self-discovery. By leaning into these internal tempests, we not only find stability but also unearth the essence of who we are and what truly drives us.

The Anatomy of Inner Chaos

Emotional turmoil isn’t simply feeling sad or anxious; it’s the clash of conflicting emotions that leaves us disoriented and struggling to function. Imagine a mental storm brewing—one that disrupts your peace and shakes your sense of control. This experience can manifest in heightened irritability, racing thoughts, and an overwhelming sense of dread. Physically, it can drain your energy, disturb your sleep, and even trigger headaches or digestive issues. Socially, you might withdraw or struggle to connect with others, feeling trapped in a cycle of self-doubt and fear.

Recognizing the difference between temporary emotional distress and prolonged turmoil is key. When left unchecked, these emotional currents can erode mental, emotional, and even physical well-being. Yet, understanding their roots and learning to navigate them opens the door to transformation.

Tracing the Source

The triggers for emotional upheaval are as diverse as the human experience itself. Relationship struggles, grief, career pressures, financial burdens, or past traumas can ignite this inner storm. Even positive life changes—like marriage or parenthood—can bring unexpected emotional turbulence. For some, underlying mental health conditions or neurodivergence amplify these feelings, while others grapple with societal pressures or personal insecurities.

By identifying these triggers, we can begin to untangle the chaos and confront the deeper fears and beliefs that fuel it.

The Path of Self-Discovery

True self-discovery isn’t about finding the “perfect version” of yourself. It’s about peeling back the layers—understanding your values, desires, and fears—and embracing your authentic self. This journey requires reflection, vulnerability, and the courage to confront uncomfortable truths.

In moments of emotional turmoil, we’re often forced to question the narratives we’ve clung to and the expectations we’ve inherited. It’s here that we uncover hidden strengths, suppressed emotions, and unacknowledged dreams. The pain becomes a teacher, guiding us toward clarity and purpose.

Tools for the Journey

1. Mindfulness & Presence: Ground yourself in the present moment through meditation, deep breathing, or mindful movement. These practices help quiet the noise and create space for self-reflection.

2. Journaling & Self-Expression: Pour your thoughts onto paper. Explore your emotions, patterns, and experiences without judgment. This process can reveal subconscious truths and foster self-awareness.

3. Seeking Support: Therapy, support groups, or honest conversations with trusted friends can provide valuable perspective and emotional validation.

4. Creative Outlets: Art, music, or poetry can serve as powerful vehicles for processing emotions and connecting with your inner world.

5. Rest & Self-Compassion: Emotional growth requires energy. Prioritize rest, set boundaries, and treat yourself with kindness as you navigate this path.

From Darkness to Clarity

Emotional turmoil isn’t something to escape—it’s an invitation to evolve. By embracing the storm and allowing it to guide us inward, we uncover resilience, authenticity, and deeper purpose. It’s through this raw, often uncomfortable process that we transform chaos into clarity and step closer to the truest version of ourselves.

[compassionmattersmost]

Poem: Compassion Blossoms

In the winter’s chill, fatigue takes its toll,A silent struggle that steals its hold.In shadows of exhaustion, you stand,Seeking solace, a comforting hand. Amidst the snowflakes and the gloom,Your heart whispers in the quiet room.Lost in the battle, weary and worn,Yet in your words, a resilience is born. School’s path abandoned, relationships few,The isolation, a formidable view.But here, in…

[rfyimmo]

My Quarter-Life Crisis is trying to kill me. | MillennialMomManifesto

My kid was watching a nursery rhyme that said "Don't throw your junk in my back yard, my backyard’s full," and I froze, my mind spiraling until I sank into the floor and cried, Summer Walker style. Panic attack? Adult tantrum? How many times are my peers and women of my generation finding ourselves in positions like this?... And Why...?

The more I gain the confidence to speak with my peers about instances like these or the catalysts for such, I realize things like this are happening to most of us right now. Our unhappiness is mentally & physically showing itself in our faith, health, mind, bodies, actions and reactions.

Sociologists say "Mid-Life" by today's standards is between ages 35-75 🧐

What do you count as middle-aged? At almost 30, I feel like I used to think this was it, but now, I refuse to accept that. All my life society and media showed us mid-life crises were usually for 30 or 40-something year old men buying sports cars and trading in their wives for newer models, but today what does that look like? 

I'm calling it a quarter life crisis (and not mid-life crisis) because if the people in the Bible lived hundreds of years & there are still Centenarian Blue Zones on this modern day planet, I hope this is not the middle. I hoping we have so much more to go. Most people want to live longer and climb the proverbial ladder quicker - so that's where the crisis kicks in. My peers and I are trying not to be crushed under student debt, living costs that don't match the wage gaps, and dreams we don't know how to make come true, but still daily haunt us. Queue the panic about not being where we thought we would by now or how much we feel we should have gotten accomplished and comparison to our peers' highlight reels online.

Being super is tough: It's a constant battle of figuring out when to use your powers (for good or for evil), balancing your secret identity, maintaining your energy and constantly improving your powers or learning new ones.

Good Vs. Evil: Remember that panic from earlier? You know, the panic enacted by milestones you thought you would reach by now? Write down what you want, how you want to get it, and form a timeline to make it happen. Seeing your plan on paper can help ground you.

Secret Identity: Make the best of this time! Even if it doesn’t feel like it, you are supposed to be here in this moment. There is more than one way to navigate life, careers, etc. Why else would there be so many paths if people were not meant to be different and explore different options. Do what works for you! Your powers are different form the supe next to you, and there are still muggles and mortals with no powers at all. Queue the Gratitude & Mindfullness.

Maintaining Energy: They say life gets better with age, so think of yourself and where you were 1, 3, 5, and even 10 years ago! You would KILL to know, do, have the things you do now & you learn daily how to do this life thing a little bit better than yesterday. Consider this quarter or midlife crisis a pitstop for refocus, weather this transition with reflection and grace for yourself. Identify the wisdom you have and apply it to new areas. 

"The purpose of your life is to find your gift, the work of life is to develop it, and the meaning of life is to give it away."

As far as Powers: I leave you with this quote:

"Midlife is when the primary operating system of your life shifts from the ego to the soul. It's a period when people start to rearrange what gives meaning to themselves."

As a 'SuperMom' This is How I'm Running on Sustainable & Renewable Energy:

While the early 20s and late teens are living their "Rich 'Hot Girl' Era", I'm trying to find my way into "Wealthy Hot Mom Era" who Dabbles in "Mob Wife."

✨A few Podcast Recommendations:🌤️

From Broken To Branding: B Simone on Nice & Neat

Highlighted Quote: "I wasn't protected as a child so I think that's where a lot of my comedy comes from I walk on eggshells a lot trying to people please and I have a lack of boundaries because I want you to like me because I need validation from other people instead of getting it internally I wasn't I wasn't protected so I feel like I did a lot to make adults happy around me that were supposed to be there to protect me but really didn't make me feel comfortable as a child"

You've Been BLOCKING Your BLESSINGS! | Tabitha Brown

Tia Mowry: You’re Unhappy and You Don’t Know it - Learn to Leave the Comfort of Being Unhappy

✨Here's my Money & Positivity Playlist (to help you see the bright side:)🌤️

About the Author: Proud milso & toddler mom. Lover of art, creative writing & blogging 🎨 Believing in the power of efficiency & innovation 🌟 Passionate about helping small businesses thrive 🚀 Avid traveler & coffee enthusiast ☕️✈️

I love meeting new people and hearing their stories. Whether you're a fellow mom, a small business owner, or just someone looking for a bit of inspiration, let's connect and support each other on this incredible journey.

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[myun-saidthoughts]

˗ˏˋ ⭐ ˎˊ˗ Astrology Observations ˗ˏˋ ⭐ ˎˊ˗

🌟 The placement of Pluto in your chart can reveal the theme of pain or transformation you might experience in this life—pain that serves as a catalyst for profound internal and mental shifts within yourself.

The depth of pain will be dependent on your own choices; if you choose to ignore red flags the harsher and more severe the wake up call would be.

Pluto in the 5th house: Struggles might emerge from overindulgence in impulsive or immature choices, such as gambling or seeking joy in fleeting pleasures (such as affairs or short term relationships). Poor choices may manifest because there's a need of deep inner child healing, which could cause deeper emotional wounds in the process. The extremes of choosing quick fun can lead into a habit of poor decision making.  Pluto in the 7th house: Challenges and transformative pain often arise through intimate romantic relationships, pushing you to confront deep-seated patterns and fears. If you keep choosing people who won't choose you or if you rely on others for a sense of self, identity or acceptance then the wake up call would be more prominent or severe. Pluto in the 11th house: Painful experiences may come through friendships or involvement in communities, leading to shifts in how you connect with and trust others. If you find yourself relying on others or seeking external validation through communities, friend groups, or social connections, the wake-up call may lead you to recognize your own worth and embrace yourself as you are, without needing acknowledgment from others. Pluto in the 12th house: Ignoring your psyche or mental struggles can lead to self-unraveling. The more you avoid or dismiss your internal mental health setbacks, the deeper and more painful the lessons will become. You may not even be aware of your emotional needs, but the longer you avoid confronting your sensitivity or past wounds—whether from childhood or relationships—the harder it will be to redefine your self-concept and belief system. You may even experience a revelation about yourself after overcoming depression or anxiety, which can help you understand yourself better. However, remember that being introspective and aware doesn't always mean you're truly feeling your feelings. You may know what to think or how to act, but it’s crucial to connect the emotions you've been holding onto with the feelings beneath them.

Pluto placed in less interactive houses may have a less intense theme, but if you also have Chiron in the same house, its influence can become much more prominent and life-changing, amplifying the potential for deep healing or painful growth.

🌟 If you have many inner planets in your 5th, 7th, or 8th house, you're more likely to seek out romantic connections, desire a partner, or long for one—even if you’ve experienced emotional turmoil in your childhood due to your parents or past partners.

🌟 If you have many inner planets in your 1st, 2nd, or 12th house, you’re less likely to be open to a connection. Subconsciously, you might desire or wish for someone to be “your person,” but you may never allow yourself to fully give in.

🌟 With 8th house synastry, the intensity of this connection swings between unspoken loyalty and complete avoidance—one extreme driven by the fear of showing disinterest, and the other by the fear of being a burden. If you’re not preoccupied with displaying your loyalty to them in a room full of people, you find yourself avoiding eye contact or minimizing conversation to maintain a facade of “normalcy”—a normalcy that doesn’t truly exist in this connection.

🌟 Pisces/Scorpio placements may have a strong tendency to seek deep emotional experiences during times of creativity. They often search for a specific feeling or emotional state as a catalyst to create art or writing.

🌟 Aquarius placements, especially Moon or Rising, often struggle with avoidance as one of their worst traits in any relationships they navigate—whether romantic, platonic, or even with themselves.

🌟 Scorpios are known for their extreme loyalty. Once they choose you, they are deeply committed and unlikely to leave unless a traumatic emotional blockage arises within the relationship.

🌟 Scorpio risings can have beautiful striking eyes, and because of that their eyes can heavily influence appearance. Their eyes may even become an ice breaker for conversations/be talked about a-lot.

🌟 Aries + Libra axis turnover rate when it comes to relationships is incredibly high. Moving on to the next can come naturally to them unless they have other placements that contradicts that tendency.

🌟 Air signs need intellectual stimulation; they need to feel excited and curious with you.

🌟 8th House placements (esp. Moon or Sun) or Scorpio placements are incredibly private towards the public. They naturally will not post on social media: no instagram stories, tweets, memes, their thoughts or feelings willingly and openly.

This is because

At a young age their needs, thoughts or wishes were ignored and pushed to the side for others sake and so they now have coped to never share their own inner thoughts or feelings to others.

They've been burned or hurt in the past by someone they've trusted, and now they don't share or openly state their true feelings outwardly towards others.

If they have a Taurus/Libra/Leo IC or Gemini/Sagittarius/placements then the chances of sharing themselves online is more likely.

🌟 In 8th/Pluto + 12th/Neptune house synastry connections, if you two are not on speaking terms sudden lows may occur when you're reminded of what was.

If it's been weeks or months since you've both talked and one random day they watch your story on your social media a sudden longing for them may come.

If you run into them and the conversation didn't amount to what you wished for, a low may come and you'll feel as if the relationship is completely over.

🌟 8th house synastry amounts to constant cycles and loops, if you're not wishing for them, you say you're over them.

There could be an emotional block between you two and the desire for them may diminish but If they look at you for one second the way they used too, the desire for them will arise as if the feeling never left.

🌟 In 12th house and Neptune synastry, you might covertly share song lyrics on your social media, hoping they’ll read them and sense that the lyrics are meant as a message for them. Instead of expressing your feelings face-to-face, posting these lyrics in a "hidden" way feels safer.

And if so, you yourself may wonder if anything they publicly post, say, or do is a secret message for you.

You may even go out of your way to somehow find a perfect song that depicts the relationship between you two and use that song as a indirect message to state your true feelings without having to outwardly verbalize them.

(The above statement is more true for those who have Pisces, 12th house, Neptune influence in their cart)

🌟 3rd house synastry creates ease with communication, especially if there's 4th house synastry as well, and if the planets involved are the Sun, Moon, or Venus.

🌟 For 12th house synastry to cause intense idealizations, thoughts, dreams, wishes or obsessiveness there has to be attraction involved, the more attracted you are to them the more you'll idealize them.

🌟 A Neptune/12th house person and a planet person can both experience intense desire, longing, or overthinking, but the way they process these feelings depends on their individual natal charts.

🌟 With 8th and 12th house synastry connections, you might never actually date the person, yet the emotions they evoke within you can feel as profound and intimate as if you had.

🌟 Neptune and 12th house synastry: "You are perfect for me; you feel like everything I could ever wish for in someone."

If you're avoidant, this feeling can be terrifying because it brings a sense of inadequacy, as if you could never live up to the idealized version of yourself they see. You'll long for them deeply, but the way they look at you may feel unsettling, foreign, or out of place. Even if they seem like your dream person, self-doubt can drive you to run. You might fear disappointing them or feel you’ll never measure up to the partner they deserve. You'll view them as some sort of prize from a distance and you'll search for them in other connections but you'll never allow yourself to choose them, not like they choose you.

If you're anxious, this feeling will strike a familiar chord, it'll resonate so deeply within and letting go will seem impossible. You'll feel this pull toward them, you'll feel as if they’re your muse, your catharsis, and you'll wish that they were your person. Even without words, you'll sense that they want you, and this silent connection will consume your thoughts. You’ll compare the way they make you feel to everyone else, and you'll search for that same intensity in other people's gazes. You’ll sit in your head, wondering if your wishes align with theirs, questioning if they feel the same. Over time, you’ll realize the emotions they stir in you are unmatched, which leads you to hold onto the connection longer than you should, you'll rather wish on the what could be's than accept what is.

🌟 Pisces or 12th house placements often turn to writing or art as a means of expressing their inner thoughts, feelings, and longings. The more they feel, the more their creativity flows.

🌟 If you have water placements or planets in water houses (4th, 8th, 12th), deep emotions are embedded within you. The more you avoid these feelings, the more likely physical symptoms such as anxiety or mental struggles will occur. It's your body’s way of processing the hidden emotions you’ve learned to suppress. These unaddressed feelings can manifest in subtle, physical ways, and it's a reflection of the emotional turmoil beneath the surface.

🌟 With 8th house synastry, the second and I mean very second there's a emotional block between you two the deep seated desire for them becomes less intense.

Ex: If you also share 12th house synastry with them, parts of their actions will feel like subtle hints that are meant for you, in essence you want to believe you are more important to them than others, and you feel like you are. But once something comes to light or if you were shown that what you thought to be wasn't the case, the realization creates emotional distance and the desire for them (in that moment) shrinks. It feels as if the importance that you thought your presence gave them suddenly means nothing, and from that feeling creates a instant "I'm never speaking to them again" mentality.

🌟 With the 12th house involved, their actions may reveal their actual character, and while you are able to clearly see these actions (in a objective sense), you might still feel deeply tied to the version of them you feel them to be exists. You’ll observe their behavior yet convince yourself that someone better lies beneath the surface.

🌟 With 8th and 12th house synastry, there’s a part of you that feels you’ll never compare to anyone else they encounter. Even if you two never dated, there’s a deep sense that the way they feel when they’re with you is unmatched and it's something you intuitively will feel. It's likely that there will be no set actions or verbal affirmations to confirm this knowing.

[ovaryacted]

OFF THE LEDGE

─ Dr. Jack Abbot x fem! reader || WC: 4.6k

SYNOPSIS: Surviving is hard. You've become exhausted with the current circumstances of your life. When the pressure finally gets to be too much, you fall apart at the seams. Luckily, Jack is there to put you back together.

CONTENT/WARNINGS: MDNI/18+. NSFW. ANGST. Hurt/Comfort. Age Gap implied [Jack is late 40s, reader is late 20s/early 30s]. Power imbalances [Attending/Resident]. Established “secret” relationship. Mentions of a drug overdose & medical treatment (patient in ED). Mental health triggers & descriptions of depression, suicidal ideation, and a mental breakdown. Reader is passively turned actively suicidal. Injury from self-harm/self-infliction using a razor that results in bleeding & stitches. Brief references to past sh attempts from reader. Mentions of Jack struggling w/his mental health in the past. Jack being a good partner and providing support.

NOTE: This fic contains explicit descriptions of self harm, depression, and mental health issues that may be triggering for some readers. If you or a loved one are experiencing this, please reach out to someone or call the corresponding crisis lifeline in your state/country. For the U.S. - Dial 988 for the Suicide & Crisis Lifeline.

A/N: I usually don't write things like this, and a part of me was scared to even upload this, but I’m gonna take the risk and do it anyway. I initially wrote this when I was going through something, especially this week, and just needed to release all of these built up emotions somehow and I created this, which was cathartic to write & read. We all deserve reassurance that we are still loved after our mistakes, and I hope those who are going through a hard time know that you are deserving of a long and joyful life and that you are loved. Thank you to @ozarkthedog for proofreading this and the constant encouragement, love you hun. Reblogs, comments, and likes are always greatly appreciated! <3

NAVIGATION | MASTERLIST | AO3

You’d think by now things would get easier. That the ringing in your head would become more manageable; the noise would fade away, and the voices would quiet their chattering for once.

You thought wrong.

A part of you thinks you never should’ve taken the time to go through high school, undergrad, and medical school to enter a field where you were frequently reminded of how fleeting life was. No matter what you did, no matter how hard you tried, the grim reaper was always there, breathing down your neck, watching the sand in the hourglass run out for those bound to leave the mortal coil. The emergency department was their personal hell, and you served as the angel of death, guiding them into the afterlife, witnessing the lights dim from their eyes and declaring the time they crossed the bridge like it was second nature.

It reminds you that it could’ve been you. Sometimes you think it should be.

Of course, that wasn’t rational thinking, was it? The constant nagging voice drilling into your head that you don’t belong here, you don’t deserve to be walking the earth alongside everyone else. It was painfully ironic working in a field where your hands were capable of saving lives, all while you constantly battled to validate your own existence.

A walking contradiction you were.

You hid it well from everyone around you, continuing with business as usual during your night shifts at the Pitt, working doubles just to get through the day, regardless of your body begging for rest. It wasn’t a problem; in fact, the staff were more than glad to have someone reliable to provide more support without asking, and with someone as capable as you, they had no qualms about adding overtime hours to your payroll.

But Dr. Abbot? He saw right through it, right through you.

He knows because he gets it.

You’re good at your job, almost too good, and nobody would dare say otherwise. Despite your talents under pressure and your quick reflexes, there was a darkness that hung over your head like a shadow everywhere you went. Your eyes were clouded over, trying to hide something; the curl of your smile was subtle—never too wide; and your laugh was too tight to be considered a chuckle but enough for an exhale.

Jack knows, because it’s him.

The next time he goes up to the roof for some fresh air, he isn’t entirely surprised to find you already there. You stood on the other end of the ledge, leaning against the railing, hands in your pockets as you stood straight, head held high to admire the Pittsburgh skyline. Jack doesn’t make a sound as he steps closer to you, discreet in his footing, careful not to disturb your moment of reflection.

“You’re in my spot.”

Looking back, he thinks his comment could pass off as reprimanding, spotting the same cues from you that recalls a version of himself he often tries to forget. The version of him that saw more men die than he can count, his past self that buried a piece of him along with his wife, the part of him that didn’t care to see another day in spite of how long he’s fought to be here anyway.

You don’t flinch when you hear Jack’s voice from behind you, tilting your head in acknowledgement and returning your focus to the buildings in front of you.

“Had to borrow it for a second. Wanted to take in the view.”

He only hums, arms reaching over the railing and clasping his hands. Leaning forward on the opposite side of you, he keeps his attention on the side of your face, observing you with keen eyes.

“Next time you’re up here, bring a drink. Really adds to the ambiance.” That got you to laugh dryly, and for a second, Jack considered it an accomplishment.

“I’ll keep that in mind. Unless you plan on joining me for that drink, considering this is your spot and all.” You turn to face him then, and the twitch of a smirk tugs at his lips, taking in your features before glancing down to the floor.

“I’ll put a pin in that for our next meet-up, kid.”

Jack was only half-serious when he said that, but your uncoordinated meetings became more consistent, the sight of Jack growing to be a welcoming one. Amongst the chaos of the Pitt, above all of the death and carnage that came through the ambulance bay every day, Jack was always there to keep you grounded in ways you didn’t know you needed. A pat on the shoulder, a hand on your lower back, a squeeze on your arm, and an expression that inaudibly asks, “You’re good?” To anyone else, they’d think he’s just being a good mentor and doctor as he always was, but you knew there was a secondary motive, not that it wasn’t reciprocated.

He made you stronger, better, and for the longest time you were okay, happy even. In a professional sense, he kept you on a tight self-care regimen, making sure you ate proper meals, slept a full 7 hours at minimum, and took supplements you wouldn’t admit made you feel better even after being more energetic and clear-headed throughout your shifts. He did you the favor of setting you up to get connected to his therapist, at least for a consultation before being referred to someone who was better equipped to handle your needs, going as far as being your sponsor if necessary.

You knew he was only looking out for you, but when the concern transitioned to desire along the way, it felt natural, comforting, safe. Jack welcomed you into his reality, made room for you in his home and his heart, told you his nightmares and the memories that haunted him while making new ones with you. He let you weave yourself around his very being and made you promise to never let go, whispering those three words without issue to cite that you belonged with him, that he wanted you here where he could love you the way you deserved.

But even Dr. Abbot couldn’t keep you safe from yourself.

He can always tell when your worst habits start to make a reappearance, when you have trouble sleeping and he finds you on the couch in the middle of the day, aimlessly watching something on the TV. You pick at your food more, no longer enthusiastic about your favorite lasagna he’s cooked for dinner, saying you’d save it for lunch at work and going to bed with a dwindling appetite.

You hide yourself from him, less receptive of his touch and affections; the kisses you returned were superficial at best, but it was better than nothing. The spark he adored was slowly dimming from your eyes, giving him a sad smile when he said he loved you, the words muted when they tumbled from your lips as if you were afraid of repeating it.

Back at the Pitt, your mask began to crack. Your laughs were minimal, your face permanently frozen and devoid of emotion, and your head tormenting itself as you strained to suppress your mood. You spend much longer on the roof during your shifts, and though he trusts you enough, he still keeps track of the number of times he spots you sneaking away and heading for the stairs. He’s told you so many times before—

“If you’re not back in 5 minutes, I’m coming up to get you.”

And Jack sticks to his word, running up to the roof and hoping he’d still find you on the other side. He always does, approaching you cautiously, talking to you in the same passive authority he uses in the ED. It does the job, bringing you into his chest and cradling the back of your head, feeling you grip onto him like he’s the only thing you had left. It does little to quell his own anxieties about your fraying state of mind when he finds you closer to the ledge every time he comes to get you.

He knows it’s only a matter of time before you fall apart, or worse.

Your shift at the Pitt was manageable for the most part until a case of a self-inflicted drug overdose came in at the wee hours of the night. An unresponsive teenager around the age of 17 came in through the ambulance bay with his parents, suspected of an extreme intake of Xanax, no reaction to pain or light, blown pupils, and weak pulse. Everyone knew there was limited time to bring them back from the brink, and the first attempt using Narcan was already unsuccessful.

The teen crashed in Trauma 1, you called for the crash cart and ordered two shocks before attempting compressions. You pumped the kid’s body full of atropine and epinephrine, cracked a few of their ribs and worked up a sweat giving compressions, but his overworked heart wouldn’t restart on its own. You kept going for another 30 minutes before Jack called it, and you noted the flatline on the heart monitor, spacing out as your ears rang and the walls closed in on you.

Jack took the responsibility of notifying the parents, suggesting you take five to cool off. When he found you in your spot, you were sitting down on the edge of the roof, feet dangling on the edge and looking down to the ground.

That was the closest he found you to the ledge.

The drive back home was quiet, the air rigid between you, but he knew well enough it wasn’t directed towards him. You didn’t bother to look at him for the entire commute, staring out into the window, counting the streetlights passing you by. Rolling into the driveway, you grabbed your work bag and made your way to the front door, Jack matching your pace behind you, reading your body language like a hawk. After unlocking the door, you were quick to walk past him and march to the bedroom, but he was faster than you, grabbing your arm and bringing you back into the foyer.

“Hey, hey. Talk to me.” He turns you to face him, one hand rubbing over your wrist and the other cupping your cheek. “I know today was hard, you don’t have to hide it from me, you know that. But please, just talk to me. I’m worried about you.”

“I just want to rinse off the day, Jack. It’s been… I’m tired, okay? Can we talk later when I’ve slept a bit? Please?” You held his gaze, his touches only unnerving you more, confused and struggling to focus. He didn’t believe you; he knew you weren’t okay, but the last thing he wanted to do was smother you when you couldn’t give him a straightforward answer.

“Alright, we’ll talk later. Go shower, I’ll make you something to eat before you sleep.” He planted a light kiss by your temple, breathing you in as if it were for the last time. “I love you.”

“I know.” It was the only thing you said, and he apprehensively let you go without hearing the sentiment returned to him, letting your silhouette disappear into the master bathroom.

It had been 40 minutes since he last saw you, and it was eerily too quiet for him to be tranquil. The hairs on the back of his neck stick up once he’s done packing away the food he made for you in hopes you’d be able to keep it down before heading off to bed. The danger senses that always protected him were firing off, and he knew you needed your space, but the urge to check up on you pestered him to the point of suffocation.

Stepping into the shared bedroom, you were nowhere to be found. The lights in the bathroom were still on, and the shower had long stopped running, but he heard the muffled sniffles, probably stifled with your hand covering your mouth.

Something wasn’t right.

“Sweetheart?” He knocks on the door, trying to get your attention. “Are you okay?” It was a stupid question, he thinks. He knows the answer is no, but when you don’t give him a response, his worry deepens.

He instantly thinks of the worse-case scenario, compartmentalizing what could be happening in the small room closed off to him. He knew from the moment you lost that patient a switch had gone off, that your subconscious roamed into the abyss you’ve been fighting to avoid. You’ve gone off the deep end, and he had to try to bring you back.

His trained ears pick up on the sound of something clinking in the sink, sharp and metallic, a hiss emitting from you followed by a restrained groan. You were in pain; something had caused you to react that way, and from the way you started to hyperventilate and cry, he can only imagine what happened.

“Baby, please. Let me in.” Jack calls out to you, reaching for the doorknob and twisting it open, but finds the door locked. He calls your name again, knocking on the door harder without trying to startle you further. “I won’t be upset with you, I promise, but I need you to open this door. You gotta let me in, or so help me, I will break it down to get to you.”

Your name tumbled out of his mouth in a plea, knuckles rasping harder against the wooden door, the knob rattling under his grip as he cursed to himself. He couldn’t bear the thought of not being able to help, of being kept in the dark while you do God knows what to yourself. Silence on the other end made his blood run cold, shoulder and head now pressed to the door, trying to find any sign of your presence on the opposite side.

Already in position to ram into the door, the click of the lock registers in his ears. Wasting no time to swing it open, his heart pounded in his ears at the display before him.

There you stood, tears streaking your face and eyes empty from the mess that was your psyche. His sight trailed lower, nostrils flaring at the sight of crimson pooling in the sink, surrounding a bloody razor. Your trembling hand swathed your wrist, the red liquid staining your palm and your fingers digging into your tainted skin in a poor attempt to manage the flow.

“I’m sorry…” You mumbled, your bottom lip wobbling as you refused to meet his eye.

He didn’t react or think about anything else; his sole focus was on you.

“It’s okay. It’s okay.” It wasn’t, but he stayed collected for your sake. Coming into the bathroom, he held you by the hips, eyes anchored to your face because he knows he’ll lose his shit the instant he looks at your arm. “I’m going to sit you down for a second, alright? Just breathe with me, I’m right here.”

As much as your body could in its state of shock, Jack maneuvered you to sit on the toilet seat, keeping your eyes stuck on the tile. You could hear him moving around you, grabbing a boxed item from the cabinet and running the sink for a bit. Your breath lumped in your throat, lungs tight and wheezing on every exhale. It was a blur how you got to the kitchen, your feet moving on their own as you floated outside of your body, your cognizance wandering to anywhere but here. 

“Let me see your wrist, honey.” Jack advised, his voice unwavering despite the constriction of his pupils disclosed his panicked nature.

Carefully, you revealed your injuries to the veteran, blood streaming down onto the sterile procedure underpad he placed your arm on. He sighed in slight relief, thankful the two wounds were horizontal like the rest of the faded scars instead of the opposite, not deep enough for immediate concern, but you’d still need stitches.

“They’re not too deep, but I need to stitch you up so they heal, okay?” He was talking, you think he was, and despite not fully processing his mouth moving, you nodded anyway.

Placing the lightest kiss on your forehead, Jack promptly got to work. Opening the tactical first aid kit he kept in the bathroom, stacked to the brim with medical supplies, he found some gloves and got his station ready. He treated you like any other case in the ED, holding off on everything else going on in his head until you weren’t hurt anymore.

As serious as he can be, he numbed out the area for your comfort and flushed out the cuts for better visibility, taking hold of the suture and piercing the curved end to your skin. You didn’t jerk your arm away as he did so, looping the metal hook into your flesh a few more times before neatly tying the end and cutting the rest off. He double-checked to make sure the wound would heal properly with minimal issues and wrapped your wrist up in some gauze and a medical-grade bandage.

You were silent the entire time, the tension thick enough to cut through. He was figuring out the best approach to this conversation, to make sure he wouldn’t push you farther away.

“How’s the wrapping?” He started off with that, something easy for you to answer.

“It’s fine.” You shrugged, thumbing over the bandage. “Can’t feel anything.”

“Good, that’s good.” He replies, maintaining his analytical gaze on you. He plotted what exactly he could say, the right sequence of words that would put you at ease, but you got to it before he could.

“Jack…” He scanned your distressed features, never taking his eyes off of you. “Are you upset with me?”

“Why would I be upset with you?” The thought of your priority being his reaction to your behavior in such a high-stress environment ached him. “I couldn’t be upset at you. Not for this, not for anything. You understand that, right?”

“I just… I feel so fucking stupid. For doing this, after being clean for so damn long.” You stared down at your wrists with sunken eyes, the self-deprecating thoughts banging around in your skull doing nothing to calm you down, eyes stinging with residual tears that never seemed to stop falling.

He uttered your name softly, reaching out to hold your hands as if you were made of porcelain, making an effort to dodge the new bandages covering your wrist.

“You’re not weak, or any less deserving of a life worth living for repeating old patterns. We’re not perfect, and when your mind is your worst enemy, it’s a constant battlefield up there. You think I didn’t struggle the same way before? I still do sometimes, and I’m sure if there was a remedy to get rid of all of the bullshit in our heads, we would’ve taken it a long time ago. What matters is you’re still here, breathing, talking. You’re still here.”

A pregnant pause followed his words, your grip tightening around his, blankly looking at his digits and mindlessly rubbing over his skin.

“I’m tired, Jack. I’m tired of it all, of the noise, of constantly needing to fight everything, to find a reason to keep going.” The tears still pebbled at the corner of your eye, lids lined with red and irritated from the emotional turmoil you’ve been working through. “It’s all becoming too much, and nothing was working, so I just…needed something to release the pressure. I don’t know how much more of this I can take, and that scares me. I’m at my limit, and I don’t know what to do anymore.”

It killed him to know you’ve been carrying so much pain. He already knows of your background, of your prior attempts, and the skeletons hidden in your closet. Jack understands the cards that have been stacked against you from the very beginning of your existence, chasing a calm reality you’ll never experience; the closest you got to that was being in a partnership with him. Jack loved you with every part of his soul, he’s told you countless times. He hoped his love was enough to nullify your suffering, but even he knew there was no remedy for being your worst enemy.

“You don’t need to have it all figured out right now, and you don’t have to tell me everything you’re thinking or are choosing to forget. But just know, I love you, and I want to be able to love you in any capacity while you’re here with me.” His voice grew taut as he spoke, the faintest tell that he was being strong for your sake.

“This doesn’t change that, and whatever comes, I will help you through it. You’re worth the fight, you always have been, and you’ve been fighting for your place here for so long. I’m not letting you go, not that easily, and I won’t let you give up on yourself either. You don’t have to do this alone, not anymore.”

His words struck a chord with you, feeling them reverberate through your body, shuddering as he said everything you needed to hear. You sat together in the kitchen, letting his declaration to you hang in the air and marinate, breaking the silence after some time.

“Thank you.” Your gratitude for Jack’s selflessness goes without saying, the hazel eyes that had been drawn to you from the start were kind as they always were, warm and full of adoration you’ve never felt with or from anyone else.

“Always.” His head tilts behind him, gesturing to the fridge. “Made something in case you still wanted a bite.”

“I don’t think I can stomach anything right now, I’m sorry.”

“It’s alright, I already wrapped it up in case you changed your mind.” Jack stayed quiet, pondering for a beat before talking again. “I’ll ask the other residents to cover your shifts for the rest of the week, and I’ll switch out with Robby so I can stay here with you.”

“You don’t have to do that.” You didn’t want to be any more of a burden than you already were.

“I know I don’t, but I want to, I feel like I need to. We’ll just take a few days, recuperate, get you out of the house for some fresh air and do something together, maybe coordinate next steps. How does that sound?”

For the first time in what felt like weeks, that spark that slipped away appeared in your eyes again. It was faint and fleeting, but you were still there underneath all of that baggage.

“It’s much better than being in the Pitt. I don’t want Robby on my ass for not showing up for a while.” He chuckles dryly, shaking his head in agreement.

“He’ll understand, trust me, and he loves being there with all of the rookies. Plus, the old man owes me, he won’t mind.”

Your shoulders dropped from their stiff position the entire night, your body language now more relaxed than before as the exhaustion from everything started to kick in.

“I think I want to go to bed now, sleep all of this off.”

“I’m right behind you.” He didn’t debate with you or ask for more answers to his questions; there was no need if he knew you'd come to him when you were ready to talk.

Packing away the rest of his medical gear and disposing of the hazardous material properly, he made sure the rest of the kitchen was cleared before meeting you in the bedroom. You stood awkwardly in front of the bathroom, the same place where the offense took place, losing yourself in the constricting tiled room.

“Do you want me to help you?” He lingered, as he usually did, and you’ve never been more grateful for his consistent support.

“Please.”

He put the first aid kit back where he found it and searched around the bedroom, finding his overworn Army shirt you claimed was your favorite. He approached you with a cool and collected attitude, gently asking for permission before he slipped your current t-shirt off of your head and dressed you in the olive green cotton, caressing the side of your jaw affectionately.

Letting you go to slip under the sheets and claim your side of the bed, he sat on the edge of the mattress to take off his prosthetic, placing it against the bedside table for when he woke up. Tossing the duvet cover over him and filling the empty space beside you, he angled his body towards you, head digging into the pillow under him.

You shifted to him in an instant, nestling your face into his chest. The scent of him hit your nose, overpowering your senses and soothing your nerves, leaning against him with your full body weight and seeking out his warmth. A thick arm shielded you from the rest of the world, winding around your waist and bringing you closer, resting comfortably on your backside. Your breathing matched pace with his, mimicking his inhales and exhales as he coached you to fully settle.

“Jack?” The hum he gave you vibrated underneath your cheek. “I love you, and I hope you know that, even if I don’t say it all the time.”

“I know. I love you too.” He kisses your hairline again, your face tilting upwards to meet his lips, soft and sweet, and just enough pressure to reassure him you felt the same. “You have me, sweetheart. Always.”

“Tell me a story. Want to hear you while I sleep.” You requested shyly, throwing your free arm over his waist, stroking the arch of his spine under his t-shirt.

As he retold another memory from his past, a fond one from his childhood, while his hand rubbed the back of your head, kneading the nape of your neck and running lines over your scalp. His words trailed off as your eyes fluttered closed, your hand ceasing its movement over his back, falling limp along with the rest of your body. You fell asleep long before his story finished, but Jack didn’t close his eyes just yet, he couldn’t.

It was in the stillness of the night that his trepidation creeped up to the surface, his mind running a mile a minute, overrun by all the protocols of the worst-case scenarios and their proper reactions. When it came to you, the same rules never applied, his sense of reason always flew out of the window. He released a quivering breath he didn’t realize he was holding; the thought of losing you, of not being there to save you, haunted him in his sleep. He never thought a part of his nightmare would manifest into reality, but he knows this was more than just him.

Whatever came next, however you wanted to handle this, he vowed to stick beside you, no matter the outcome. He was determined to prevent you from falling through the cracks, not if he could help it. You were worth the heartbreak and the sorrow; he’ll share the burden of your existence with you if it means he can keep loving you for a bit longer if you’ll let him.

In any way, Jack is here to stay like the loyal soldier he is, and he’s not planning on letting you go anytime soon.

©️ ovaryacted 2025. Please don’t repost, copy, translate, or feed into any AI. Support your fellow creators by reblogging, commenting, and liking!

[pumpkin-the-girlie-girl-vixen]

Arrested Youth: 98 Degrees

I'm looking for an antibiotic for compulsive behaviour

I've reached a boiling point

I call my CVS neighbourhood store and told them

"My temperature is 98 degrees"

I put my head inside my freezer just to get some relief

But I guess it didn't have an everlasting effect

'Cause the moment that I pulled it out, I started to sweat

Now I wish they had an antidote for cognitive stress

Maybe I'll move to Alaska, build an igloo and rest

Inside my head, it's 98 degrees

Oh my God, what you want from me?

I tried my best to get some relief

Just a little break to put my mind at ease

It's 98 degrees

My fever isn't chronic, it's just diabolic in nature

I guess the devil did me a favour

'Cause it makes me stronger every day when

I get out of bed and find a way to make friends with my darkness

As I'm sitting on this park bench

It's 98 degrees outside, I'm feeling nauseous

But I do know one thing though

Feelings, they come, they go

Saturday all the way through Sunday

Sunday to Monday, oh!

Inside my head, it's 98 degrees

Oh my God, what you want from me?

I tried my best to get some relief

Just a little break to put my mind at ease

So I hold my head up high

And hope for peace of mind

Try to stay six feet away

'Cause right now, I don't feel like me

I wish I had a PhD to understand psychology

But I don't, I must roam through my own complications

If they built Rome in a day

This is not complicated

Inside my head, it's 98 degrees

Oh my God, what you want from me?

I tried my best to get some relief

Just a little break to put my mind at ease

So I hold my head up high

And hope for peace of mind

It's 98 degrees

It's 98 degrees

(It's 98 degrees, 98 degrees, 98 degrees)

It's 98 degrees

The song explores themes of mental health, emotional struggle, and the quest for relief from intrusive thoughts and compulsive behaviors. Here’s a deeper analysis of its meaning:

1. **Compulsive Behavior and Anxiety:**

The opening lines mention looking for "an antibiotic for compulsive behavior," suggesting a desire to remedy the overwhelming thoughts and actions that can accompany anxiety. This metaphor indicates a yearning for a quick fix or a solution to manage mental distress.

2. **Physical and Mental Discomfort:**

The reference to the temperature being "98 degrees" serves as a metaphor for feeling frazzled or overwhelmed. The act of putting one’s head in the freezer symbolizes a desperate attempt to find relief from mental discomfort, illustrating the lengths to which someone might go to cool down their racing thoughts or emotions.

3. **Coping Mechanisms:**

The lyrics mention searching for an "antidote for cognitive stress," reflecting the struggle to find effective coping mechanisms in the face of anxiety. The desire to move to Alaska and build an igloo highlights a wish for isolation or a retreat from the overwhelming pressures of life.

4. **Emotional Fluctuations:**

The line "feelings, they come, they go" indicates an understanding of the transient nature of emotions. It acknowledges that while distressing feelings can be intense, they are not permanent. This recognition is an essential aspect of coping and emotional awareness.

5. **Self-Reflection and Growth:**

The phrase "find a way to make friends with my darkness" suggests an acceptance of one's struggles. It implies that rather than running away from painful thoughts or feelings, there is a willingness to confront and understand them as part of personal growth.

6. **Isolation and Social Distance:**

The mention of trying to "stay six feet away" can be interpreted literally as a reference to social distancing (possibly in the context of the COVID-19 pandemic) but also metaphorically, indicating a desire to keep emotional distance from others when feeling overwhelmed or not oneself.

7. **Aspirations for Understanding:**

The desire for a "PhD to understand psychology" reflects a longing for deeper knowledge of one’s own mental processes and complexities. This line captures the frustration that often accompanies mental health struggles, where individuals may feel lost in their complications.

8. **Hope for Peace of Mind:**

Despite the struggles described throughout the lyrics, there is an underlying hope expressed in the desire for "peace of mind." Holding one's "head up high" signifies resilience and the pursuit of stability amid turmoil.

98 Degrees - Conclusion Of Lyrics:

Overall, the song articulates a vivid and relatable depiction of the internal battles many face with anxiety and compulsive behaviors. It combines humor and raw honesty to convey the journey of seeking relief and understanding within one’s mind. Through its metaphors and imagery, it highlights the complexities of mental health while also underscoring the importance of self-acceptance and resilience in the face of challenges.

Navigating the Heat: My Personal Journey with Anxiety and Compulsive Behavior

As I sat listening to a song that resonated deeply within me, I found myself reflecting on my own journey with anxiety and the compulsive behaviors that often accompany it. The lyrics spoke to a struggle that many of us face: the overwhelming weight of thoughts that seem incessant and the quest for relief that often feels just out of reach.

The Search for Relief

The song begins with a longing for an “antibiotic for compulsive behavior.” How many times have I wished for a quick fix to quiet my racing mind? The metaphor struck a chord with me. In moments of heightened anxiety, I often feel as if I’m searching for something—anything—that could provide relief. I’ve tried various coping mechanisms over the years, from meditation to exercise, but there are times when the pressure builds, and I just want to escape.

The imagery of putting one’s head in a freezer to cool down is both comedic and poignant. I can relate to the desperation of seeking any form of relief, even if it seems absurd. There have been nights when I’ve tossed and turned, my mind racing, and I’ve thought about how nice it would be to find solace in something so simple. But like the lyrics suggest, that fleeting relief often doesn’t last. The moment I pull myself from the metaphorical freezer, reality hits hard again.

Understanding My Emotional Landscape

The line about “moving to Alaska, building an igloo” paints a vivid picture of wanting to isolate myself from the chaos that life can bring. There are days when the thought of running away from it all feels like the only option. But I’ve come to understand that running away doesn’t solve the problem; it only postpones the inevitable.

What resonates with me most from the song is the acknowledgment that “feelings, they come, they go.” I’ve learned that emotions are not permanent, and while the intensity of anxiety can feel suffocating at times, it’s important to remember that, like the changing seasons, it too shall pass. Embracing this notion has been a vital part of my healing process.

Embracing the Darkness

The lyrics also touch on making “friends with my darkness.” This concept, although daunting, has been incredibly liberating for me. Instead of running from my anxiety, I’ve started to confront it. I’ve learned that acknowledging my struggles is the first step toward understanding them. There have been moments on park benches, just like the song describes, when I’ve allowed myself to sit with my feelings, no matter how uncomfortable they may be.

I’ve realized that it’s okay to feel overwhelmed and lost. What matters is how I navigate through those feelings. I’ve begun to see my darkness not as an enemy but as a part of my story—a chapter that contributes to my growth.

The Quest for Peace of Mind

The desire for “peace of mind” is something I think we all crave, especially in a world that can feel chaotic and overwhelming. I often find myself holding my head high and reminding myself that I’m doing my best, even when challenges arise. I strive to be kind to myself, understanding that it’s okay to not be okay sometimes.

The mention of wanting a “PhD to understand psychology” reflects my own yearning for deeper understanding. If only I could decipher the complexities of my mind! But, in truth, I’m beginning to accept that the journey of understanding myself is ongoing. It’s filled with twists and turns, and while I may not have all the answers, I am learning to navigate my own complications.

Conclusion: Embracing the Heat

Ultimately, the song encapsulates a journey of resilience. It’s a reminder that while anxiety and compulsive behaviors can feel like a fever—intense and sometimes unbearable—there is strength in facing them head-on. I’ve come to appreciate the moments of clarity and relief that follow the storms, knowing that they are part of a larger tapestry of my life.

As I continue to navigate this journey, I hold onto the hope that I can find balance and peace within myself. It may not always be easy, but I know that I’m not alone in this struggle. Each day brings new opportunities to embrace my feelings, seek relief, and ultimately, find my way back to my own light. Just like the temperature in the song, my journey is a constant ebb and flow, and I’m learning to dance with the heat.

[reasonsforhope]

"A newly formed group of women is creating a map of community fridges and neighborhood pantries across Baltimore, the Bmore Community Fridge Network. 

"I am one of four women," said Elizabeth Miller, one of the network organizers. "We are career women, and we just want to see Baltimore do well."

They hope to highlight neighbors looking to serve others, hoping residents living nearby can get connected to the free food being offered to them. Miller said sometimes it can be hard for some residents to travel to local food pantries.

"Some people who are struggling with food insecurity have a lot going on, and it's really hard to get to a pantry on the days that they're open, on the days of the giveaway, navigating bus lines and bringing that food back home with them," Miller said. "Some people simply don't drive."

Miller said the group has connected with about four community fridges and has put them on the network map. However, the group plans to add more locations to the map. They will be at organizations already serving the community.

"...we will provide food for you."

"We provide resources, therapy, and outpatient services," said Nikki Smith, the CEO of The Journey Mental Health and Wellness.

"I don't care who you are, where you are," Smith said. "If you ring the doorbell and you're hungry, we will provide food for you."

The Bmore Community Fridge Network secured a donated refrigerator, which will sit outside of Smith's center, adding it to the community fridge map. Smith adds that other organizations are looking to chip in with donations to keep the fridge stocked.

"I'm hoping that everyone will pay it forward and they will understand that 'Hey wait, there's somebody here that's helping. Maybe I can help too," she said.

The Food Project will also receive a donated refrigerator, which will sit outside of their center.

"I think it's wonderful to have this additional access to food," said The Food Project Executive Director Michelle Suavo. "At the end of the day, we have a pop-up market three times a week, and it's still not enough...Throughout the night, there are so many people coming through that this is really going to help to service that additional need."

As the network grows, they are reminding families of the many neighbors across the city who truly care.

"There's no real rules about how much you can take," Miller said. "Take what you need. You never know what mouths are waiting at home."

Miller said the Bmore Community Fridge Network is trying to get more fridges and searching for more locations to house them.

She encourages everyone to donate to these community fridges by dropping off what you can to a fridge.

"It's spring," she said. "Go through your closet. Do you have canned goods or shelf-stable items that you can donate to one of these pantries? Do you have extra items in your freezer?"

Food insecurity in Baltimore

Maryland Food Bank data shows more than 90,000 city residents are food insecure. The Food Bank said 1 in 3 Marylanders face food insecurity.

The Baltimore Area Survey  (BAS) found 28% of Baltimore area residents experienced food insecurity in 2024, down from 36% in 2023. 

However, the survey showed the region's rate of food insecurity remained nearly twice as high as the national average.

If you or anyone you know are struggling with food insecurity, click here for an additional resource."

-via CBS News, March 28, 2025

[daylighted]

meet jensen ackles, your regular hollywood washup who weaseled his way back into your father's life after ghosting him for twenty years. to be fair, he had a career he was trying to pursue! a man with many dreams and wasted talent, jensen has a handful of bad habits keeping from reaching the potential that everyone in his life reminded him that he was abandoning. this comes as no surprise, though, considering he's only ever existed in your mind as a warning story; never a face or presence to connect the name to, just the foreboding tales of his mistakes in college. don't be like jensen, your father would warn . . . but he never warned you about liking jensen.

trigger warnings for : hefty age gap ( 20s & 40s ) | sexual content ¹ | alcohol usage & ab/se | drug usage & ab/se ² | addiction ³ | emotional manipulation & unavailability | unhealthy coping mechanisms | (updated frequently!) + lmk if i need to add anything! ¹ ㅤ unprotected p in v | oral f & m receiving | choking kink | daddy kink | spit kink | semi - public sex | public sex | manhandling | creampie | (updated frequently!) THIS WORK IS NOT SAFE FOR MINORS. ² ㅤ only scenes with weed are going to be described in detail | harder drugs are eluded to or mentioned by name | not romanticized | please read with caution / don't read if these are triggers for you! your mental health & general health matters <3 ³ ㅤ not romanticized | discussions of addiction struggle / relapse | please read with caution / don't read if these are triggers for you! your mental health & general health matters <3

sneak into his room? YES | NO

navigate the trigger warnings by which title has the aforementioned number by it !

part one - friend from college ¹ your dad's estranged best friend from college, jensen, comes back into his life to find you, his daughter, as an unexpected factor in it.

part two - swallow the smoke ² it wasn't supposed to be more than a one-time thing. a little slip in your judgment. but jensen seems to have taken more of a liking to you than he thought.

part three - bite the pillow ¹ the last two days with jensen are going to be torturous if he keeps giving you those eyes across the room, right under your dad's nose.

part four - hide away the signs ¹ jensen says goodbye, but he's not going without a taste, and definitely not without a way and a promise to see you again.

ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤreply with ☠ if you want added to the taglist ! <3

[spotlight-if]

Lights, Camera…Chaos.

[PLAY HERE] (October 23rd, 2024) Act 1, Chapter 1, 64.2k words.

For as long as you can remember, your dream has stayed the same—you want nothing more than to make it as an actor in Hollywood. After years as an overlooked, overworked talent, your big break comes from an unlikely source. And it’s one that changes everything, for better or worse.

Hollywood is its own character within this world—sometimes it loves you, sometimes it wants nothing more than to see you crash and burn. Navigating this ever changing landscape while balancing your own interpersonal relationships is only half the challenge. The other half is memorizing your lines.

Navigate the red carpet, bloodthirsty paparazzi, cut-throat tabloids and complicated relationship dynamics with A-list celebrities (who may or may not be completely insane.)

But, hey: isn’t this what you’ve always wanted?

Key Features:

- Customize your Actor: are you a classic Hollywood heartthrob? An eccentric and unconventional recluse? Are you kind and genuine despite the fame, or a cutthroat diva with undeniable talent?

- Navigate scandal, paparazzi, and stan culture: dodge or embrace the flashing lights. Interact with your fans, or distance yourself from them for your sanity. Wait—who are they shipping your character with?

-Build your legacy: choose between the stability of superhero blockbusters or turn into an indie darling. Or, maybe forgoe both to become a household name in the horror genre.

- Network and build relationships: whether they’re manufactured by your well-meaning publicist or spawned from real feelings, forge dynamic and ever changing relationships with other industry icons.

- Try to manage your mental health: the dark side of the industry lurks in every corner—the highs are high, but the lows are ever lower.

Characters:

Kendall Mays (gender selectable)—ever the loyal best friend, Kendall followed you into the throes of showbiz without hesitation. From fighting over toys on the playground to helping you run lines for a major motion picture, you can always count on them to have your back. That is, before they met Mason—their ever-present boyfriend who demands more and more of their time. You were never that great at sharing.

[Note: Kendall is not a romance option.]

Sutton Foster (he/him, she/her)—child star turned award winning powerhouse. Sutton Foster has everything an actor could want—well, minus the countless stays at rehab centers around the world. It’s undeniable that Sutton is a generational talent, but what’s even more notable is their messy personal life. You yourself have been caught in Sutton’s gravitational pull, once upon a time. The question lies in whether or not you’ll pull yourself away.

Wyn Grace (he/him, she/her)—on stage, Wyn is electric. The same cannot be said for Wyn off-stage. The lead singer of the up-and-coming Indie band is struggling with their meteoric rise to fame. As the awards pile up and the crowds get bigger, Wyn is unraveling at the seams. All they wanted to do was make music with their friends, but the fame makes them reconsider it all.

Lex Moreau (he/him)—an older, award-winning director with an…eccentric disposition. Yet despite his volatile nature and obsession with perfection, anyone who’s anyone would kill to work with him. Lex is always in search for a muse, a great beacon to pour all of his artistic vision into. And now, he thinks he’s found that in you. Lucky you?

[C is a conditional character, only appears based on choices you make.]

Carlo/Carmen Mencina (gender selectable)—C is harder to pin down than a stable acting gig in LA. When you’re together—it’s kismet. The problem lies in when you’re apart. C’s frequent disappearances abroad leave a bad taste in your mouth, and when a shocking truth comes to light, it’s not just your relationship in the spotlight—it’s your life, too.

Flings and other mini-romances will be available as well. But these I will let be revealed as the story progresses.

When writing this game, I knew what themes I wanted to focus on, and the care/detail needed to do so. Hence, this game is strictly 18+.

TW: death, substance abuse, suicide, bullying, explicit language, violence, and explicit (skippable) sexual content.

Thank you for reading my intro! Reblogs are welcome, and my ask box is open (:

And major thank you @thecutestgrotto for the gorgeous headers!

[genderqueerdykes]

im not sorry the truth of the transmasculine experience is ugly. i'm not sorry that we have to frequently discuss sexual and physical violence and abuse. i'm not sorry that we have to discuss violent physical abuse and death. i'm not sorry that we have to discuss homelessness, mental illness, addiction, disabilities, and other challenges in life.

we struggle. we do not instantly gain male privilege the second we come out. even if we pass. when someone knows we're trans we're treated like a woman no matter what. we can sometimes get lucky and pass with strangers but eventually people around us find out because people tell each other without our consent.

we face all kinds of abuse due to the fact that people feel entitlement to our bodies, regardless of what our AGAB is. they feel entitled to our faces, our hair, our entire appearance. they focus on the face that we're ruining something "pretty". they threaten corrective sexual violence to remind us that we're "just women". it happens constantly. this is not an isolated incident and virtually nobody wants people to talk about it when it comes to transmasculine people.

trans men often get injured for one reason or another. usually because someone wants to make them "prove" they're a man, to "toughen them up" or to "prove to them that they're a woman". sometimes this results in sexual assault. other times it results in physical assault. and sometimes people just kill trans men. all because they hate that a "woman" can transition into a man.

it's an ugly part of our reality but it needs to be discussed because otherwise people use the lack of that conversation as ammunition to say transmascs don't struggle.

transmasculine people struggle to stay housed. transmasculine people get kicked out of their living situations very often for many reasons. it's hard for transmascs to get jobs because often times people want either a man or a woman for a specific position and fuss over what they think the transmasc's gender is. misgendering is a huge issue at work. going stealth at work can be painful. being in the closet at work can be painful

transmascs are often disabled and struggle to get care due to people not taking AFAB patients' pain and symptoms seriously. this is a huge issue with any kind of AFAB person or any woman. all woman and AFAB people struggle with having their symptoms taken seriously when seeking serious medical attention to the point of possibly being undiagnosed for life, thus being unable to get on disability. trans women face this just as much as AFAB cis women, it's a huge issue in the medical industry

transmasculine people struggle to say on their hormones (or access them at all). testosterone is a controlled substance in many countries which means that you need a prior authorization to get the medication and need to consistently see a provider to get blood tests and check ups. it can be difficult to do so if you are low income and sometimes certain pharmacists will intentionally find ways to withhold hormones due to their own prejudices

transmasculine people struggle to get pregnancy support and care. it is very difficult for transmasculine people to figure out how to navigate their pregnancy, either due to their HRT provider not knowing much about pregnancy, or having a gynecologist who's not familiar with transmasculine health.

transmascs get denied from spaces made for men constantly. even if they pass, if word gets around that they're trans they can easily be kicked out of a space. transmasculine lesbians are often removed from lesbian, transmasc and/or non binary spaces. transmasc butches are often ostracized from all communities their identities correlate to. trans men and transmasc enbies are seen as a threat to women.

there is ugliness in every pocket of the queer community when it comes to how cisheteronormative society treats us. we all face disgusting treatment that needs to be addressed. it's important to consider how this system affects everyone underneath it. we need to talk about the positive things, it's good to help those are questioning, but we also must discuss what struggles we face in order to humanize ourselves and show that we people, too. none of us have it easy.

[xxautumnivyxx]

I think I’ve done a lot to work on seeing myself as powerful no matter what the mean parts of my brain come up with. It’s a struggle, but I’m proud of my strength and navigating that to also improve in my mental healths strength is important too. We’ve got this. ❤️