#or was it just my tiny ocd brain that was broken

[rebouks]

Oscar heaved a sigh of defeat, plonking himself at the edge of the bed. “Well, he locked his door again-.. and he’s either ignoring me, or he’s got his headphones in, or both.”

“What the hell happened yesterday?” Courtney asked, rolling toward Oscar sleepily.

Oscar shrugged; he wasn’t entirely sure. The whole evening had been a disaster from start to finish. “I don’t know, he got in a fight with that kid, didn’t he-.. and my old neighbour saw us n’ decided to reminisce about me fucking OD’ing.”

“He didn’t actually say that, did he?” Courtney’s brows knitted together in shock.

Oscar shook his head, “No, he just said some shit about how he thought I was dead in that grotty bathroom at the Mill-.. I thought Ivan n’ Rhys found me but I guess he must’ve been there too, who knows.”

“What an idiot, bringing that up at the school gates.” Courtney tutted. Oscar nodded in agreement, pausing for a moment before suggesting, “Maybe I should explain what actually happened? He knew I was lying.” Courtney stiffened, “No, he’s too young!” “I hated it when my parents blatantly lied to me though, I’m telling you; he fucking knows.”

Courtney hummed, scratching Oscar’s back thoughtfully. “I’m more worried about him fighting.” Oscar pondered for a moment before replying, “It sounds like he was just standing up for himself. If he makes a habit of it, then we’ll worry.” “Yeah, okay…”

Oscar and Courtney glanced at one another as Robin unlocked his door and bolted to the bathroom, hastily locking that door behind him too. With a quick shove, Courtney hissed, “Go, go!”

Robin leapt across the landing and threw himself into his room, his sigh of relief swiftly retreated in on itself as he swung his door shut, however; Oscar had outsmarted him, waiting behind the door.

“I’m not going!” Robin yelled, “I’m sick…” Oscar calmly shook his head from side to side, “That’s not gonna fly, is it? We both know you’re not sick…”

Robin clenched his fists tight enough for his knuckles to turn white, desperately willing himself to vomit on command, faint, have some kind of fit-.. anything would do.

“If you’re worried about-…” “I don’t give a shit about Levi.” Robin spat.

Oscar frowned worriedly; he knew Robin hadn’t wanted their holiday to end, or to go back to school, but this abrupt fit of anger was highly uncharacteristic. Surely it was still too early to be worried about the dreaded P word? He had the faint beginnings of bags under his little eyes too-.. which were red raw and puffy, as though he’d spent more time crying last night than he had sleeping.

“What’s the matter, buddy?” Oscar asked gently, gesturing toward Robin with an outstretched hand. Robin shrugged a shoulder as he crawled beside Oscar, suddenly feeling guilty for yelling. What if his father died right after he’d said something awful and mean? He’d never forgive himself.

“Is it something in particular? A bit of everything?” Robin remained silent, anxiously nibbling at a stray strip of skin on his bottom lip. “Talk to me…” Oscar pleaded.

Robin wriggled away from the comfort of his father’s arms and curled into a ball. What the hell was he supposed to say? That he couldn’t sleep all night because he kept seeing Oscar’s lifeless body on a bathroom floor, on a stretcher, in a hospital-.. dying in various awful ways again and again until he wasn’t sure what the difference was between someone else’s memories and his own imagination. That he just wanted his brain to stop and for everyone to just shut up-.. just for once, please.

Oscar didn’t know what to do with Robin’s prolonged silence. He desperately wanted to explain what Larry had been talking about, but Courtney was probably right about him being too young. Besides, he didn’t even know if that was the issue. It could’ve been Larry, or the fight with Levi, or the fact that he missed Alex-.. all of the above, something else entirely?

“I know this Levi kid is probably doing your head in, but you can’t just go around hitting people-.. it’s not okay.”

Robin knew full well that violence wasn’t the answer, but he couldn’t deny that it’d felt a little satisfying to take his frustrations out on Levi. Any normal child might’ve asked if their parents were angry with them-.. except Robin wasn’t normal, and he already knew that Oscar wasn’t mad, nor his mother, so he kept his mouth shut.

Grasping at straws, Oscar cast his mind back to when he was a child. Whenever he was in one of his moods, as his mother always put it, he just needed to know that someone would listen, and he certainly didn’t want to be yelled at or mithered-.. but most of all, he just wanted to be left alone, at least for a little while…

“You can have one day, okay? Just one.” Oscar acquiesced. Robin barely moved, giving the tiniest of nods in response.

“Alright.” Oscar sighed inwardly, tussling Robin’s ginger curls with affection before reluctantly leaving him be.

Previous // Next

[dreamerwriternstargazer]

Something that really irritates me is nights like tonight

Where something small and innocuous to anyone else just gets into my head

I was a lot slower cleaning and recipe testing and even now showering and getting ready for bed because

After dinner while cleaning up I dropped a ladle and got some stains on my trousers

Tiny stains, no one else would even notice them

But I kept stopping to try to see them, cleaned it off, kept stopping to sniff and debate whether I should change my clothes now because I had JUST changed into new clothes today and now it’s stained

And it’s tiny. It’s nothing. This is not something that would typically bother a person I know that

But it kept slowing me down. Because then I was doing my tasks while thinking of whether I should change, pro con list, can I find clothes that coordinate with the colours of my underwear as well and will it be an outfit that matches and will it be practical for going out tomorrow and how much does practical weigh against coordinated colours and clean clothes and wait I’m changing clothes tomorrow anyway couldn’t I be patient and just deal with it til tomorrow

And around and around

For the past…. 4 hours.

But this is just… one of the things I obsess over on a daily basis. Why I used to think I was OCD when I was younger, germaphobic etc but it would be over things that weren’t about germs just neatness and cleanliness. I also don’t have any rituals it’s very much like

Specific things have to be a specific way

Not OCD, more likely autism.

And I think this is where I start to see how autism is disabling.

Not too severe, it doesn’t hurt me, but it gets in the way. It’s like trying to walk fast somewhere but there’s someone walking very slowly in front of you and every time you try to move around them they walk in front of you

Now I’m overstimulated and overwhelmed. I came to a decision, but I kept pausing on my tasks, staring off into space or looking at my phone without really…. Looking at it, just essentially stimming I think because I kept opening the apps and closing them again, while trying to think of what to do

Even though I knew I was tired and I need to get up early

And even now I’ve made my decision but I have this nagging feeling that I didn’t consider something and did not make the best possible decision

So I decided to write this post venting about it, and maybe getting some thoughts from other autistic people (like whether it’s autism or more trauma related broken brain things, which I don’t know how it could be but the possibility exists) about their experiences

And I just needed to… to express all this somewhere. I don’t often think too much about how my quirks and idiosyncrasies are… disabling. My social autistic behaviour, yes I do consider because it’s the main way I feel it, the isolation for years and the effort I put in to comprehend and adjust to situations and people. It’s not as direct however, the autism means I need to put more effort in when socialising, to mask or to connect, but the toll it takes is after the fact

In this case, my quirk of obsessive tidiness directly gets in the way of my main tasks. My focus.

Perhaps this is why it was and is so easy for me to slip into an eating disorder. I don’t necessarily like rules, but I like following rules. I like following my rules, and an eating disorder is just a set of rules constantly cycling through your head. What better rules than rules for a ‘perfect body’, of course I’d follow them to the letter

I guess if that’s true and my more stringent behaviours led to my ED then… even more clarity on how these traits can be disabling it seems.

*sighs*

*sinks into bed*

[maebymaedayidk]

Tw/ mental health, adhd, doctors

So 2 days ago, I was diagnosed with ADHD.

I cannot even find the words to accurately communicate how fucking VALIDATING getting that diagnosis was.

For years and years of my life I've been like "Yeah, i probably have adhd" but I felt TERRIBLE identifying with it because I didn't have a formal diagnosis. I was so worried I was just being an ignorant neurotypical, like the people who are like "omg yeah I'm SO OCD like I hate mess"

My parents always said I have ADHD, but because the school system does fuck all to support neurodivergent people they just never bothered to get me diagnosed. And I truly understand where they were coming from. I live in a tiny town, growing up the neurodivergent kids were more scrutinized than they were supported, it actually was safer at the time to go undiagnosed.

But I'm 20 now. At 17 my parents stopped making my appointments for me. For 3 years I was dragging my feet about getting diagnosed because out of EVERYTHING that I had to deal with growing up, all the struggle through highschool, the shittiness of zoomiversity, the thing that terrified me most was going to the doctor and hearing her say

"No, you're normal."

Because that's it, isn't it? The fear going to the doctor and them telling you that nothing is wrong, that its just *you*. That they have no idea what you're talking about. And for me i think that that is a response is rooted in the trauma of being a female presenting person trying to navigate the health care system. The fear of being told "no", then not getting the help you KNOW you need. And having to continue living your life when you KNOW that you could be so much more if you just got HELP.

But thankfully my doctor believed me. She told me:

"yeah, you've got all of the symptoms. Well set you up with counselling and I want to get you started on some medicine. We will find what works for you."

I nearly cried.

It's such a weird feeling, to be told that something you always suspected is correct. It's validating and you can finally allow yourself to be HOPEFUL.

I firmly believe that having ADHD is not a flaw, or the product of a broken brain or what have you. I truly think that humanity would not have gotten as far as it has if everyone's brain were built the exact same way. Having ADHD, being autistic, and just having a brain that works differently is a struggle because of the expectations and the systems of the society we live in. Our brains, fundamentally, weren't designed for capitalism.

We weren't designed to be individualistic, we weren't designed to not support eachother. The notion of "independence", with its modern expectations attached, does not create a thriving society. We have to rely on each other, and support each other. I'm slowly falling into a rant about ableism and although that is connected •♡°○lets stay on track○°♡•

I was so lucky that I was believed, that my doctor was quick to offer support. Not everyone gets that experience and it sucks. But I'm so happy that I finally got that diagnosis.

I'm mae, the possum, and I have ADHD.

[latte-fairytaekwoon]

𝑆𝑙𝑒𝑒𝑝𝑖𝑛𝑔 𝐵𝑒𝑎𝑢𝑡𝑦 (𝑃𝑎𝑟𝑘 𝑆𝑒𝑜𝑛𝑔ℎ𝑤𝑎) 𝑅𝑎𝑡𝑒𝑑

𝙿𝚊𝚒𝚛𝚒𝚗𝚐: 𝙿𝚊𝚛𝚔 𝚂𝚎𝚘𝚗𝚐𝚑𝚠𝚊 (𝙰𝚝𝚎𝚎𝚣)× 𝚁𝚎𝚊𝚍𝚎𝚛 (𝙵𝚎𝚖𝚊𝚕𝚎)

𝙶𝚎𝚗𝚛𝚎: 𝚂𝚖𝚞𝚝, 𝙵𝚕𝚞𝚏𝚏, 𝚂𝚕𝚒𝚐𝚑𝚝 𝙰𝚗𝚐𝚜𝚝.

𝚆𝚘𝚛𝚍 𝙲𝚘𝚞𝚗𝚝: 𝟸.𝟹𝙺

𝚂𝚞𝚖𝚖𝚊𝚛𝚢: 𝙽𝚘𝚝 𝚠𝚊𝚗𝚝𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚝𝚘 𝚍𝚒𝚜𝚝𝚞𝚛𝚋 𝚑𝚒𝚜 𝚐𝚒𝚛𝚕𝚏𝚛𝚒𝚎𝚗𝚍 𝚊𝚏𝚝𝚎𝚛 𝚑𝚎𝚛 𝚕𝚘𝚗𝚐 𝚍𝚊𝚢 𝚊𝚝 𝚠𝚘𝚛𝚔, 𝚂𝚎𝚘𝚗𝚐𝚑𝚠𝚊 𝚝𝚛𝚒𝚎𝚜 𝚝𝚘 𝚏𝚘𝚌𝚞𝚜 𝚘𝚗 𝚌𝚕𝚎𝚊𝚗𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚊𝚛𝚘𝚞𝚗𝚍 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚑𝚘𝚞𝚜𝚎..... 𝚋𝚞𝚝 𝚝𝚑𝚊𝚝'𝚜 𝚊 𝚍𝚒𝚏𝚏𝚒𝚌𝚞𝚕𝚝 𝚝𝚊𝚜𝚔 𝚠𝚑𝚎𝚗 𝚜𝚘𝚖𝚎𝚘𝚗𝚎 𝚒𝚜 𝚖𝚘𝚊𝚗𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚢𝚘𝚞𝚛 𝚗𝚊𝚖𝚎 𝚒𝚗 𝚝𝚑𝚎𝚒𝚛 𝚜𝚕𝚎𝚎𝚙.

𝚆𝚊𝚛𝚗𝚒𝚗𝚐𝚜: 𝙾𝚛𝚊𝚕 𝚜𝚎𝚡 (𝚏𝚎𝚖𝚊𝚕𝚎 𝚛𝚎𝚌𝚎𝚒𝚟𝚒𝚗𝚐), 𝚜𝚘𝚖𝚗𝚘𝚙𝚑𝚒𝚕𝚒𝚊, 𝚞𝚗𝚙𝚛𝚘𝚝𝚎𝚌𝚝𝚎𝚍 𝚜𝚎𝚡 (𝚞𝚜𝚎 𝚙𝚛𝚘𝚝𝚎𝚌𝚝𝚒𝚘𝚗), 𝚋𝚛𝚎𝚎𝚍𝚒𝚗𝚐/𝚒𝚖𝚙𝚛𝚎𝚐𝚗𝚊𝚝𝚒𝚘𝚗 𝚔𝚒𝚗𝚔, 𝚂𝚘𝚏𝚝 𝙳𝚘𝚖! 𝚂𝚎𝚘𝚗𝚐𝚑𝚠𝚊 × 𝚂𝚞𝚋! 𝚁𝚎𝚊𝚍𝚎𝚛.

Tags: @galaxteez @park-chalymars @queenofgames

*♡*.¸¸.*♡*.¸¸.*♡*.¸¸.*♡*.¸¸.*♡*.¸¸.*♡*.¸¸.*♡*.¸¸.*♡*

Adjusting the glasses that framed his face, the dirty blonde male carefully wiped the kitchen counter, making sure it was perfectly sanitized and free from any form of dust. Not forgetting to swipe the lint roller across the surface, he was so focused on his task that he slightly jumped when he heard the door open, then realized it was just his significant other coming back from her shift. Glancing over at the clock, he found it unusual for her to be coming back at this hour as it was rather late and her shift should have ended hours ago.

Grabbing the Lysol can, he went over to the front door where she was in the process of taking off her shoes and coat, dropping them onto the floor which particularly annoyed him. Standing next to her, he began to pick up her things and place them either on the rack specifically for their shoes or hanging them inside the closet.

"Seonghwa! What the fuck!?" His lover protested and swatted her hands at him when he proceeds to spray her with his aerosal disinfectant.

"We're still in the middle of a pandemic Y/N and I'm not taking chances." He justified himself.

Furiously ripping the mask off her face, she yanked the can off his fingers and threw it on the floor.

"Look! Just this once can you not pester me with your OCD habits?! I'm not in a good mood and I just want to be left alone!"

He stepped aside when she pushed past him and headed straight into her room, shutting the door rather harshly. He didn't budge an eye at her behaviour, he knew how stressing her job was, especially with a boss like hers. Sighing softly, he picked up the Lysol can and sprayed her shoes and coat before going back into the kitchen. He re-began his usual task of running his trusty lint roller all over the already clean and sanitized surfaces. When most of the paper came back with barely any brown spots his face lit up.

Picking up his little catty that held his cleaning supplies, he moved into the living room where he stopped in his tracks when he saw his girlfriend laying on the couch, wearing nothing but a white tank top and a pair of white cotton panties. He rolled his eyes and pondered how he was supposed to clean in the living room without waking her up. He didn't have the heart to place her back in her room since one, she was worn out and two, her room's air conditioning was still broken and it was a particularly hot day.

He opted to just clean around her as quietly as possible, not moving any furniture around so it wouldn't disturb her slumber. After finishing wiping off some of the dirt and grime, he grabbed a clean rag and began using furniture polish to make the wood shine more than it already was. He felt really proud when he could actually see his own reflection on it.

He started to pick up the various pictures they kept on the coffee table to wipe them off when he heard Y/N stir in her sleep behind him. He didn't really pay attention, much too focused on his task at hand and used to his girlfriend's sleeping antics. All was still for a few minutes, until she once again shifted in her sleep, only this time she released a sound that definitely startled him, making him drop the frame onto the coffee table. He semi kept it from making too much noise, cringing as he heard Y/N move even more, afraid he might have woken her up.

"Hwa...."

He whipped his head around, body turning with it as he questioned whether he was hearing things right or not. Scooting closer to her, Seonghwa looked down and noticed tiny sweat beads on her hairline, eyes scrunched together in frustration, nails scratching at the leather cushion she had her head rested on, hips slightly grinding against the couch underneath her. And to top it all off, she began emitting muffled moans, he was sure of it, knowing fully well what they sounded like.

Standing up, Seonghwa moved to sit behind her. Feeling the weight shift underneath her, Y/N unconsciously let one of her legs dangle off the couch, giving Seonghwa a perfect glimpse at the wet stain that was forming in her panties.

"Fuck.......you get wet dreams?"

He couldn't resist the urge to swipe his tongue across his lips as he stared at her core. Sucking in a breath, he got up and went back to his task of cleaning up, trying to think of anything to help calm down the boner that he was growing inside his sweatpants. He seemed to be doing a pretty good job at it.......

"Seonghwa...."

Dropping the rag onto the floor, Seonghwa pinched the bridge of his nose.

"Please don't do this to me. I can't..."

He let out a grunt when he saw just how big the tent in between his legs was. He took slow and deep breaths, hoping to cool himself down. He could not and would not wake up his exhausted girlfriend just because he felt the need to fuck her brains out. But as he heard her moans turn to whimpers and frustrated groans, he found his resolve weakening. He got back up and sat behind her again, watching her slow movements. He outstretched his hand and let it rest on top of her ass, his fingers eventually digging into her soft and tender skin, the wet patch in her panties becoming bigger and more soaked.

Quickly untying the drawstring, Seonghwa slipped his hand inside his pants, pumping himself slowly as he drew his hand in between her legs, one finger poking at her wet patch. He couldn't help the chuckle that escaped his lips when he felt her press back into his touch.

"Always responsive to my touch, aren't you my little bunny?"

Pushing her panties aside, he easily slipped one finger inside, wiggling it around experimentally. Seonghwa let out a proud smirk when she was still responding to his advances, her walls stretching out to accommodate the next two fingers he pushed inside her.

"So tight......so warm........"

He kept slowly pumping his fingers in and out of her, loving the way her walls clenched around his fingers. Wanting to test something out, he slipped his fingers completely out of her. Instantly, her lips pouted and she let out what sounded like a whine as her body moved further back, no doubt trying to find his hand once again. Seonghwa shook his head in a mocking manner.

"Always such a needy bunny."

Unable to resist anymore, he adjusts himself to lay down behind her and brought his face down near her back. Starting from her lower back, he began to place tiny open mouth kisses along her curves and trailed them down to her ass cheeks, where he began squishing them in his palms. Taking a hold of her panties, he slowly peeled them off her body and down her legs, effectively ridding her of the confining garment. His hands went back to her ass, lifting her up slightly. He bit his lip when he spread her folds, nearly drooling at the sight of her wet and delicious pussy.

Diving right in, he poked his tongue out, swiping it all up her slit. He felt her body shiver at the contact, but he remained undeterred. He just continued by swirling his tongue around her wet hole before sliding it in and out of her, occasionally latching his lips on her clit to give her a generous suck that had her whining. Somewhere along the way, Seonghwa became lost in her taste. Not longer paying attention to his surroundings, he just buried his face more into her heat, eating her out with a passionate and desperate hunger, unable to get enough of her. He was so distracted he didn't even notice that the girl had been woken up, her eyelids fluttering open and gasping softly as they looked at the scene taking place behind her.

"Seonghwa..."

Her hand reached out to stroke his hair, making his eyes shoot up and see her lustful gaze.

"Hey sleeping beauty." He giggled as he detached himself from her core, but not before giving her one last suck, emitting loud slurping sound.

"H-Hwa!" She called out at him, confused at what was going on as she still hadn't fully awoken yet.

Sitting up, he hovered his body on top of hers, hands cupping her jaw as he kissed her tenderly, remnants of her juices now being tossed into her mouth.

"You're so pretty, so tempting....couldn't hold myself back. You just looked so gorgeous." He justified his actions yet she was not complaining, except for one tiny thing.

"Seonghwa-" She begged him, hand reaching in between his legs to cup his boner.

Knowing what she was hinting at, he pulled away and began turning her back onto all fours.

"Don't worry bunny, I haven't forgotten that you haven't came yet."

His fingers took hold of the hem of her tank top, lifting it over her head and tossing it somewhere on the floor. His pants and underwear soon followed suit and ended discarded around the room. He guided her so she could rest her head and hands on the armrest.

"Just relax and leave it all to me babygirl."

Pressing a hand down on her back, he lined himself up and slowly began to push himself in, earning quite a few gasps and moans from both of them. He began a slow and steady pace, wanting her to feel every vein and ridge against her walls, not wanting to go harsh at all since she was still pretty tired. He opted for more sensual and deep strokes so he could hit against that spot that would have her crying out for him soon.

"You look so pretty my little bunny. You're taking me so well my little one."

She couldn't help but clench at his words, loving his pet name for her and the praises he was giving her.

"Fuck! Yes bunny- clench around me like that. God you feel amazing."

He moved his hands to cup her breasts, being gentle as he squeezed them and bounced them on his palms, fingers occasionally pinching and playing with her nipples.

Y/N released tiny pants and breaths, her ass pushing back against him whenever he pulled out of her. She loved her boyfriend's cock so much. It was long and girthy and best of all, he knew exactly how to angle his hips so he'd leave her seeing stars every time she came.

"You like that my dear? Like how my cock feels inside your little hole?"

She let out a shudder when his hand move to wrap around her waist, fingers caressing her lower stomach. He hummed softly as he ran his fingers across her tummy.

"Baby..?" She could hear his mischievous tone that was up to something.

Leaning in, he whispered in her ear.

"Let me cum inside you this time....."

She looked back at him with a puzzled look, however he was calm as he continued rolling his hips slowly against hers. He bent down to kiss her softly.

"Wanna fuck my baby in you."

She pulled away from the kiss to moan.

"S-Seonghwa-" She couldn't believe his words.

"Please my little bunny. Think about how insanely cute you'll look with a swollen belly.......carrying our little bundle of joy."

She clenched involuntarily at his words, nearly cumming right then and there. Seonghwa began thrusting a little harder against her.

"Fuck! You'll be so pretty with all the extra weight and bigger breasts- shit! Baby I'm gonna cum soon-please!"

He was erratic by now, begging her in earnest as he continued to fuck her pussy. Hearing his desperate pleas, Y/N gripped onto the armrest as she began cumming all over him.

"Seonghwa! Just- cum inside me!" She cried out.

Letting out a harsh grunt, Seonghwa began shaking as he spilled himself inside her, making sure to fill her up as much as he could, not stopping his movements until her tight walls milked him dry of all his hot cum. Y/N's face stayed hidden on the couch, face flushed and sweaty from all that just happened. She hissed slightly when she felt Seonghwa pull out of her. His finger worked quick to catch the cum leaking out a her, pushing it back inside and ensuring it wouldn't come out again. Turning her over, he brushed some of the hair away from her face, an adoring smile on his face.

"Seonghwa......what if...what if I do get pregnant?" Although it was in the spur of the moment, she wasn't completely sure if he meant it or not.

"Then I'll be the happiest man alive."

His answer shocked her, and he snores at her reaction.

"You're seriously hoping I get p-pregnant?" She raised an eyebrow and then looked down, unsure of how to feel.

Sensing her apprehension, Seonghwa pulled her up so it'd be easier to hug her.

"Listen honey, I'm serious about this. I want to start a family with you. Yes we're both young, but I think we're perfectly capable of raising a child. And don't worry..."

He kissed her forehead before whispering.

"I'll take care of you."

Y/N softened up at his words, unable to suppress the shy smile that was beginning to form on her lips.

"Well....I always did want a little girl.." She admitted.

Seonghwa beamed enthusiastically.

"So if I did get you pregnant-"

"Hold on Hwa, you're getting ahead of yourself. You forgot I'm on the pill so chances are that I'm not pregnant." She giggled.

Letting out a huff, Seonghwa picked his girlfriend up and started heading towards the bedroom.

"Ok from now on, stop taking the birth control and right now relax..."

She let out a squeak when he dropped her onto his bed and crawled on top of her, his eyes full of determination accompanied by a sly smirk on his lips.

"Cause we're trying this again..."

[cookinguptales]

So uh TIL that my relationship with failure is not normal and there's actually a word (acronym) for it, thank you for that (sorry I don't know how to make that not sound sarcastic!), I'm gonna go read all things ever about RSD now

[cw: frank discussion of mental illness and its symptoms]

Being absolutely real with you here, anon, RSD is fucking terrible. It’s a terrible symptom of a frustrating disorder and I’m sorry that you’re dealing with it. Like I say this as someone with a variety of mental health issues (maybe she’s born with it, maybe it’s PTSD) who’s struggled with suicidal ideation since about age seven or eight -- RSD is one of the absolute hardest things I deal with. It’s more than just feeling broken or fucked up or unlovable; it’s an absolutely physical, devastating reaction that can be impossible to logic your way out of.

It is not normal to fixate on perceived rejection, faults, or mistakes. It is not normal to hate yourself every time you make the smallest error or don’t succeed at something you’ve tried. It is not normal to make a tiny error or get in an argument and then spiral over it for days, weeks, months, maybe even years. I definitely disobeyed once when I was like eight and worried about my mom finding out and not loving me anymore for... I wanna say about seven years. I finally told her like three years ago (I WAS STILL NERVOUS) and I am thirty-two now. She... was not mad. Because I was a child who didn’t even do anything that bad. But that’s RSD. It’s like niggling at a scab that you just can’t leave alone, even though you know it’s only going to hurt you. (And yes, skin-picking and hair-pulling are also symptoms of ADHD. Dermatillomania struggles are so real, lmao.)

Like friend, I get it. I get the way that you make a mistake or you get in an argument or you think someone is upset with you and it is an actual physical clenching of the chest. The spiraling. The panic attacks. The anxiety. The intrusive thoughts. The way you literally cannot fucking breathe. None of that is normal.

I didn’t know that it was weird, either, until just a few years ago. I knew I had bad ADHD that couldn’t be safely medicated (I believe my doctor’s exact words when he looked at my test results were “I can’t believe you graduated high school”) but no one told me that obsessive thoughts and RSD were symptoms of that. I knew that sometimes my ADHD felt like I was batting a thousand racquetballs around a court at the same time, but I didn’t know that sometimes my dumbass brain would direct every one of them right at me.

It’s kind of like hearing the Jaws music at all times... You don’t know what the rule is or how you broke it but you know you did and that very nebulous consequences will happen. And if you haven’t fucked up yet, you will soon! That Jaws music is warning you!

There’s a lot of overlap between ADHD and autism/OCD, and I think RSD is where you really start to see a lot of OCD-esque symptoms. The obsessing, the fixations, the compulsive physical actions and thoughts. The way you spiral over things that you know aren’t serious, that you know aren’t real, but that doesn’t ease the pressure on your chest, the buzzing in your head. You can’t logic your way out of RSD and it really fucking sucks.

I really, really recommend going to see a doctor if you can, anon. I can’t take ADHD meds (I got a shit-ass heart lmao) but I’ve heard they really help with the RSD for some people. If they don’t help you, therapy might. 

In the meantime, what helps me most is breaking the spiral before I get in too deep. When I feel the panic coming on, I do something that I know will distract me. This can be something physical (like going for a walk or dancing (poorly) to some music or making food) or something that will force me to focus on another living creature (like playing with my cat or calling a friend) or, if I have to pull out the big guns, purposefully invoking a known hyperfixation so I get focused on that instead. Just something that will make you think about literally anything but the trigger and your own panic response to it. Once you’re deep in the spiral, it’s very hard to get out.

Mindfulness exercises can also be useful here. I don’t mean meditation as much; that doesn’t empty my mind enough. Grounding exercises help me more. Focusing on tastes, smells, feels, sensations. Strong smells (I keep citrus essential oils on hand), strong flavors, a texture that you find interesting or comforting. Sometimes I go outside and touch trees lmao. Just find something that works for you. Focusing on a purely physical stimulus can be helpful in breaking a mental spiral.

This is a rough, rough road that you’re walking, anon, and I’m sorry to hear that you’re on it. But millions of people walk it every day, and we muddle through. There’s definitely hope and you’re definitely not alone. 💜 

[sunnysviolin]

Drop the Mari OCD headcanons... Please🥺👉👈?

Oh anon...how could I resist someone who makes the 🥺👉👈?? LOLOL Nah but I saw this and immediately laughed. I’m stuck in my dorm room isolated until my Covid test comes back negative, and I’m starting to climb the walls..... So for you nonnie, Here's a handful of Mari OCD headcanons! I do want to add a TW to this one though, because I’m going to be discussing intrusive thoughts, and I don’t want to upset anyone. I’m also putting these under a read more! Also I don’t have OCD or intrusive thoughts, so I tried to keep this as true as possible, but if I say anything offensive or wrong, please let me know! We’re all works in progress, and I’m sorry if these are not true to the real experience. 

Just like Sunny she is undiagnosed, but unlike Sunny most people think she’s neurotypical

It’s just Mari she’s a bit of a perfectionist! She just likes things to be as they should be.... Except that’s not it. 

Mari’s earliest good memory is of being four years old standing in the grocery store with her mother. She remembers organizing the candy aisle back to perfection, and it calmed a jumpy part in her brain that her Mommy called “imagination” 

It didn’t feel like imagination though, it felt scary

Mari always had bad dreams- walking into traffic and getting hit by a car, the house burning down, things that her mommy said could never happen

But they did happen. The reason they didn’t happen was because Mari had routines

Mari would only walk on the left side of the sidewalk, the side away from the road. On every other step she would carefully avoid the cracks in teh sidewalk, and sometimes her mommy would yell at her for making them late. But they never acccidentally walked into traffic, which meant Mari’s routine worked. 

She had other routines too, double checking the oven was shut off before going to bed, organizing the candy aisle at the supermarket so nothing was out of place, and on and on

Then Sunny was born. Sunny was perfect. Sunny was a tiny squirmy little thing with big eyes staring up at her, and Mari loved him more than anything. He was her sundrop, her little darling brother, perfect. 

You could drop Sunny down the stairs. Mari stopped short, fear overtaking her. The thought was gone as fast as it had came, and she tried to ignore it. Sunny looked up at her, blue pacifier still sticking out of his mouth, probably confused as to why they stopped in the middle of the stairs.

It was the first one, but it wasn’t the last. 

It would be easy to chop off Hero’s finger Mari continued to chop up the chocolate for their cookies, and pushed the thought away. Later that day she hugged her beloved tight to her, and Hero didn’t ask why. He was the only one she ever told about the bad thoughts, and he never judged her for it. He never asked questions. She loved him for it. 

She could slip out the window Aubrey was hanging out the cutout of their treehouse. Mari ignored the chanting thoughts of Push Her Push Her and snapped at Aubrey to get away from the window. They were all looking at her with concerned eyes, and Mari apologized instantly

Sometimes she would sit at her piano and play the same chords over and over for hours. Sometimes she stayed there and played and tried to drown out her brain. 

She used her routines and they helped but she couldn’t stop the bad thoughts

Mari wanted to be a good person. She wanted to be a good big sister. She knew she was pushing Sunny too hard to practice, but their recital had to be perfect. If it was, then her thoughts would stop. For one perfect night they would both be perfect, and then it would all stop. 

But Sunny’s violin lay in broken pieces at the bottom of the step, and it was all ruined, and she was screaming at him. Why was she screaming at him? Sunny didn’t like loud noises, so why was Mari shrieking at the top of her lungs? She didn’t want to do that. Not to her little brother, but she couldn’t stop

There was a push against her chest, and Mari felt herself fall back. She thought the same thing she thought every time she was near the stairs. You could slip and fall. You could push Sunny down the stairs. 

Mari’s last thoughts were disjointed, but there was one idea that stuck out to her. 

Maybe Sunny heard the same thoughts in his head as she did. 

[dellikay]

Arnold Chiari Malformation Blogs: How it all began & getting a diagnosis

This is the first in a series of blogs where I’m going to be writing about my experiences with Arnold Chiari Malformation (ACM, as it will be referred to from here on out), ranging from how my condition suddenly worsened and made it itself known, all the way to present day and how it affects me now. These will all be likely very long posts, but there is a lot of information to share and it is all integral to address, so that people reading this who don’t know much about the condition can understand exactly what the condition entails and how it feels to actually have it. I’ve split the whole ‘story’ into five parts and will be working to get those typed up and released as soon as possible. What I want to start with is how my condition made itself known to me, having laid dormant internally for 15 years of my life and the ordeals I went through to secure a correct diagnosis. It all started on a perfectly normal day - I was playing Simon the Sorcerer 3D (I’m blaming the game for it all because it was bloody awful and broken beyond all belief) on the family computer. I got to a part of the game (among many others) where the game had glitched and I couldn’t progress any further. I accessed a walkthrough online and read how to navigate around the glitch. I then started to feel nauseous. I tried to carry on as normal, but the intensity of the nausea increased rapidly and I had a really massive headache, one of the worst that I had ever experienced up until that point in time. I had to give up on my game and laid down flat on the settee. Before long, I was having major coughing fits and had to run to the toilet to be violently sick. This, of course, made the headache worse, so I ended up making up a bed on the settee and having to stay on there. I was too weak to do anything and I kept having to rush to the toilet at the drop of a hat to be sick over and over again. After a few days, my other symptoms from what we assumed was the flu started to subside but I was still being violently sick multiple times a day and had agonising headaches that lasted all day and all night. I assumed the headaches were an issue because of how often and how forcefully I was being sick multiple times a day. Months passed and I was still the same. I’d been to see my then GP a couple of times since regarding what was happening to me. Because I had been diagnosed with OCD and depression from the age of 11, he immediately assumed that my symptoms were a physical manifestation of my mental illness, so just upped my dosage of whatever I was on at the time and sent me on my way. I was going to college by this time, after I had to leave secondary school due to being bullied to the point of...well, not being in a very good state of mind, I’ll just put it that way. Somehow, I managed to attend classes and go when I should do and even went on a trip to Alton Towers with the group I was in there, all the while getting worse physically, having to excuse myself from lessons suddenly to go and be sick and having headaches so bad that I had to lay my head down on the desk. Walking to and from college (which was literally a ten minute walk from my house) become more perilous as my balance became affected...on one occasion, I was crossing the road and a car was approaching faster than I anticipated. I tried to run the rest of the way over but my legs immediately collapsed from under me and I fell flat onto the road, about six feet in front of the car. Thankfully, the driver had seen what was going to happen and had the foresight to slow right down. However, I couldn’t get myself off the road because I was dizzy and my legs didn’t want to cooperate and no one stopped to help me or to see if I was alright. I walked the rest of the way home in tears. I didn’t know what was going on and was obviously shaken from what had just happened as well as the sheer rejection from the public who just acted like I was invisible even though I was in dire need of help. Sadly, after a few more months of this deterioration, I had to stop going to college because I was too poorly to make it through lessons and the journey to and from college was way too risky. From one end of the day to the other, I laid flat on the settee and was just enveloped in a complete world of pain.  I persisted with my GP, insisting that there was something physically wrong with me, as opposed to it all being ‘in my head’ (ironically) and that the medication he had put me on my own wasn’t doing anything to stop the headaches or the vomiting. He wouldn’t listen to me and even got cross with me at one point and basically told me to stop putting it on to get attention. I felt defeated - I KNEW my own body and I KNEW that there was something very wrong but no one would listen to me. I could see and feel that it was getting worse. My balance became worse still, my weight had plummeted because I couldn’t keep any food in my system, I was still being sick multiple times a day and by the end, just bringing up water because my stomach was empty. I was accused of having an eating disorder and once again, doing this all to myself for attention. My headaches had got so bad that one time, I was laid on the floor in the living room because my head was too painful to stand or even sit up and suddenly my body started to move of its own accord. It was like I was rolling down a hill but I was on a completely flat surface. My body kept trying to roll to the side as if to balance itself if I was on a slope. It was completely out of my control and certainly one of the scariest parts of pre-diagnosis. I phoned for an appointment with my GP again, ready to stand my ground and insist once more that my symptoms were the result of something physical. I was angry, in incredible pain 24/7, weak, scared and I just wanted to be heard. When I went to the doctors, not feeling the most confident, I was told that my GP was off that day and I would be seeing one of the junior doctors instead. This made me feel a tiny glimmer of hope but I repressed it just in case he was of the same mindset as my regular doctor and he also accused me of being an attention seeker. When I was called into his office, I took a seat and I was asked to describe my symptoms. As I told him, the doctor started to look more and more concerned. He did some balance tests on me, which obviously I was incapable of completing and within five minutes, he told me that in no uncertain terms that my symptoms were way too severe to be merely a figment of my imagination and that he agreed that there was something physically wrong with me. He told me he’d book me in for an MRI. Finally. Someone listened. Someone believed me. I cried, partly from relief and elation that I had a chance of being saved from whatever it was that was destroying me from the inside out - and partly from fear because there really, truly was something wrong with me. Something seriously wrong with me, according to the doctor I had just seen. The following few months are a blur to me and I can’t remember any real details about what happened or the order in which things happened. I just remember going to Queen’s Medical Centre in Nottingham multiple times, being prodded and poked and being sent for more scans and then I saw a man who warned me that no matter what a man called Mr White said to me, I should REFUSE to have brain surgery. Under no circumstances should I listen to what he was saying and carry on as I was. He also asked me outright if I thought I had an eating disorder (basically, that I was causing myself to be sick and lose all of this weight - which was getting on for four and a half stones (63lbs) by the point - and made me feel like I had to concede that there was a possibility that could be the case, even though I knew it wasn’t. Of course, being in the sorry state that I was, I couldn’t understand this path of logic and neither could my parents. It turns out the Mr White was one of the leading brain surgeons in the country, specialised in rare brain conditions and would be the one to perform my surgery if I consented. We (as in me and my parents) met him shortly after and well, basically me and Mum fell in love with him. Lol. He was very softly spoken, gentle and kind - completely different to the man we had seen previously. Mr White was the one who told me I had Chiari Malformation Type 2 and what that meant. I was 18 years at the time (bear in mind my symptoms had started when I was 15) so he took his time with me, was very patient because he could see how terrified I was about what he was telling me and told me everything I needed to know and answered any questions I had. He explained why I was experiencing the symptoms I had and how the surgery would at the very least hopefully stop the progression of them getting even worse. He also told me that alongside the ACM, I also had hydrocephalus (water on the brain) and this was putting extra pressure on my brain and squeezing it into an even tighter space. This also meant I had a rare version of a rare condition (as it was known now - the classification of the illness has now been upgraded to ‘uncommon’, which means it’s not as rare as once thought but often misdiagnosed) so any surgery that would be carried out on me was not guaranteed to have the same level of success as if I hadn’t had the hydrocephalus. In fact, my cerebellum (the part of the brain that controls the nervous system, balance and coordination and reactions to external stimuli) had been wedged behind the top few vertebrae of my spine, which was what was causing the disabling headaches. Despite what the other man had advised me to do, I agreed to the surgery. There was no other way I was going to get better. It was scary either way and the decision was completely mine to make. Mr White was extremely concerned as he could see how poorly and fragile I was and was pushing for me to have the surgery before Christmas (I think we went to go and see him at some point in November). However, I was frightened and I just wanted one more Christmas before going through such a huge life event. I wasn’t sure I’d make it out the other side so I wanted just one more big celebration. Even though he wasn’t best happy with me wanting to wait until after Christmas, he agreed but he said he would book me in for as soon as possible afterwards. Basically, time was of the essence, I had a ticking time bomb in my head and it could have detonated at any second. I was too young and too frightened to understand at the time but me choosing to have the surgery a month or so later than was wanted by the surgeon could have cost me my ability to walk entirely or my life if my health had taken another slump.

[terulakimban]

Hi! So I saw your response on ask jumblr saying you were agnostic and everything and I found them super super interesting and was wondering if you could explain a bit more of how it’s been for you in a Jewish setting? Thank you 🌸💗🌸

Hi! So, for context, framework on what exactly I do believe (and what I don’t), because by some definitions, I’m an atheist, by others, I’m theistic, and as far as I’m concerned, I’m agnostic.  I believe that there are rules and patterns inherent to reality; that there is order even within chaos; that human ignorance of those rules and patterns does not change their existence. I believe that to attempt to discern these patterns is, for lack of a better word, holy, that learning more about what the universe is and has and does and what we can make it do is inherently an approach to the divine. I believe that there is beauty in the world and that that beauty is subjective. When I say the blessings for a rainbow or a thunderstorm or for seeing the ocean, I say them in awe of what an amazing world we live in; our world is such a vast and strange and unfathomable place and it is only a tiny speck of nothing in the infinity of the universe and that I am so lucky to live in a time where people are beginning to head towards taking a leap to the next speck of dust. I believe that precision of mathematical patterns is beautiful, even when I don’t know the math causing the pattern. I believe that the chaos where there is an apparent lack of a pattern is beautiful because it reminds us of how much we’ve learned and how there is infinitely more still to learn. I believe that there are universal -or near-universal truths -but I also believe that those truths are more along the lines of “2+2=4″ than “God, created, in the beginning...” I do not believe in a personified creator who caused all of that. I do not believe in the Torah as divinely written or as a literal verbatim truth. I don’t know if I believe the Torah was divinely inspired or not or even what such inspiration -or an absence of it- would necessarily entail. I don’t believe there is a one true way. I don’t believe that justice or goodness or fairness are concepts that exist outside of the minds capable of conceptualizing them, but I do believe that they are important concepts -as is the variation people will necessarily have when trying to articulate exactly what those concepts are to them. I don’t believe in any form of afterlife. I also don’t disbelieve in any form of afterlife. I have one finite existence in which to live; I will focus whatever time I have on the practical effects I can have on the world around me and infinity, be it reward or punishment or neutrality or nothing at all, can take care of itself; I’ll have infinity to be concerned -or not -with that.  In my experience, this isn’t particularly unusual in Jewish spaces. It does help that I have no issues addressing a communal conceptualization of what an infinite creator might entail, although admittedly, when praying communally, my approach tends to be either a focus on feeling what it is to be welcome and feel at home among people that has fuck-all to do with God in any way or along the lines of “start explaining unfairness and broken promises now”.  As for practice... my mother grew up on the liberal end of the Orthodox movement and I grew up on the conservative end of the Conservative movement. Dad grew up on the liberal end of the Conservative side, but that was a fairly recent shift in his family; his parents grew up in traditional homes and have a frame of reference for it. And when it comes to practice, I tend to feel most comfortable in something relatively familiar, although I tend to go for more traditional practice as an individual and more liberal practice in a community. I like studying Talmud and the Tosafot. There is something incredibly comforting about seeing a verse and saying “hey, what the fuck is up with that” and then seeing that my people -my family -have been arguing that exact same question for thousands of years. I like keeping kosher. I’ve got OCD, and it serves as a wonderful externalization of the kind of rules I otherwise make for myself -except these rules come with built-in endpoints so I can’t get stuck in painful loops and there are people outside my brain who understand them. I’m not shomer shabbat at this point in my life for a number of reasons mostly outside my control, but I would like to go back to having a day dedicated to rest and mindfulness and not laboring, although my ideal level of shabbat observance is decidedly not “officially shomer”. I like looking at my parents’ ketubah -at the contract they signed before witnesses of the obligations to one another that they were choosing to take on and the consequences if they didn’t -and dreaming about someday having my own; about someday loving someone enough and having someone who loves me enough to say “yes, these are our oaths”. I like that I can walk into any synagogue anywhere in the world and have family and community and a frame of reference for what’s going on. I like that I was raised in between communities in such a way that I know the rules and how to pick up on them for communities I don’t know. I like singing together with people and that sense of the past and present connecting when the words are ancient and the tune is not. I love learning to leyn and comparative linguistics and looking at the words. I love working with kids and being able to say “this is your heritage, these words belong to you, but it’s your choice what you do with them, my job is just to make sure you know what the words mean.” I love (pre-pandemic, of course) the way my parents’ synagogue does a communal meal every week at the close of Shabbat -and then does a communal Talmud study and commentary -and I love being encouraged to raise my voice and ask questions and make comments and offer ideas. I love Havadalah and Kabbalat Shabbat and how we mark holidays and transitions in fire and how we use fire and stone to memorialize our dead. I love being able to say “here is my tradition, can you show me yours” to friends who aren’t Jewish and sharing food and songs and opening our homes to one another And there’s stuff I don’t like. I don’t like the way liberal communities tend to treat traditional practice as the exclusive provenance of Orthodoxy. I don’t like when I’m not counted in a minyan. I don’t like being seated across a mechitzah. I don’t like the way that, for all our communities are family, there’s often an element of hostility towards the other denominations. I’m not a fan of taharat mishpacha in its entirety -or tzniut, for that matter. I don’t like Ashkenormativity and the way we’re mostly letting what’s left of our older community languages die in favor of Hebrew. I don’t like when people insist that Halacha is inherently divine -and I don’t like when people insist that it should all be discarded.  But all of that, all those things I dislike? None of those -or at least, none of the parts I specifically dislike about them -are, by my understanding, inherent to Judaism. Those are things inherent to people -and to communities. People like the dichotomy of “anyone more [thing] than me is a fanatic and anyone less [thing] than me doesn’t actually care about it”. Whenever there’s a community and an opportunity for some people to use it to reinforce a social dynamic that they see as favoring them, there will always be people who do so. There will always be people disagreeing on what they find empowering vs oppressive. There will always be a struggle between tradition for tradition’s sake and progress for progress’s sake.  I have clarified that I’m agnostic to my parents. Dad’s response was “yeah, I guess a lot of people in your generation don’t really need God, do you...” (tone was sincere and contemplative; he’s genuinely interested in the millennial zeitgeist, and it’s led to multiple conversations about generational theology). Mom’s response was “🤷‍♀️ That’s between you and God, now did you want a roast for shabbos or not because I need to take it out to defrost” (she is not particularly interested in discussions of theology or philosophy with me, but we do talk about practice a lot). 

[nd-bumble-bee]

Some Thoughts About Antisepticeye:

I really like puzzles, mystery solving, & storytelling. I have no idea if anyone else has made these connections or publicly stated them. But I also might have an overactive imagination, which got me to start going down this rabbit hole. 

So when I think back to Seán saying that nobody has really figured out who or what Anti is, I got curious. Eventually (today-ish), my brain decided to take that as a challenge.

This may be a bit lengthy, so if you plan to read all of this: Buckle up, buttercups!

Now, I'm not usually one to try & actively theorize about this kind of stuff. But I love learning about lore & psychology! One thing I know is that there are a bunch of people in Seán's community who love to come up with theories about the egos, especially Anti (& I totally understand why, since Seán & Robin are pretty damn good at storytelling). One common thing that pops up is the idea that Anti is a glitch (bitch) or a demon. Or both. But because of what Seán said, either those ideas are incorrect or they’re not specific enough & we need to dig deeper. Like, much deeper.

One thing that caught my attention was a post on Tumblr (I included the link to it so it can be properly credited) that talked about the 1st time we actually see Anti's full body (the HTC Cubicle video) & how he 1st took over Jack's body VS. how he is able to do that now. But that's not the 1st time we see Anti or any hints of him at all! I looked into this by watching an edit someone made with (almost?) all of his appearances from the beginning of the channel up until the Bio Inc. Redemption video in 2017 (you can find this collection here). Obviously, Anti has made more appearances afterward, but I focused more on the early days for this as well as some of the more recent things Seán talked about regarding PMA & his mental health.

While I have met Seán in person (& can confirm that he gives amazing hugs!), I'm in no way involved in his personal life. So I could be wrong about some of the thoughts I have moving forward. I'm basically going by what I've seen & heard from videos, live shows, pannels, etc. & taking guesses based on that information & what I know about building/creating a character (I've done interactive theatre in different settings where I had almost total creative freedom in that with some guidance & training). I also can’t speak for��Seán because...I’m not him.

I wouldn't doubt if any of Seán's egos came from very personal places, maybe some of them were made because of some silly idea that he decided to run with & build on. But Anti was possibly from a very personal place in Seán's mind (especially if this was one of the 1st egos he created).

And this lead to a thought that crossed my mind & started this whole dive into the rabbit hole:

What if Anti is a "glitch" in Seán's mental system?

Okay, hear me out on this:

We know there was a period of time where a bunch of YouTubers (including Seán) were creating evil versions/counterparts of themselves. I can't say how much thought was put into all of them (because again, I’m not them), but I don't doubt Seán thought this through A LOT because he's pretty damn methodical about what he chooses to show us (the audience). Meanwhile, Anti is chaotic, much harder to predict (especially because he's been much more careful about showing himself lately), & loves to fuck with everyone. But what about the character creation aspect of this? Where did Seán pull this character from?

My guess is that Anti is an embodiment of some of Jack's darker thoughts & feelings if they were more exaggerated or taken into a much darker, more sinister direction. Seán has talked somewhat openly about being depressed, sad, & lonely (particularly when he started making YouTube content). He has also talked about his fear of letting us down/failing us as a content creator, feeling that what he puts out there needs to be perfect, & the anxiety that causes him to feel sometimes. Just because the Seán/Jack we all know & love is kind, caring, & wouldn't want to harm anyone, doesn't mean he has never experienced some dark, scary thoughts. Especially if he's not kidding about having ADD or experiencing OCD-like symptoms (I'm only grabbing this from anytime he has says his "OCD kicks in" or talks about his "ADD" brain, I'm giving the benefit of the doubt that there's at least some truth to this). One thing I can say from personal experience is that when your brain is a hot mess & you have been through some shit (even if it’s just emotionally), it's hard to not have some dark & scary thoughts, which is why we try not to be alone with them.

And then there's Seán's interest in video games & computers. When you find a glitch in a game or software, it may or may not cause problems down the road (some of them are actually pretty funny & harmless!) depending on what happens next. You know what else runs on tiny pulses of electricity & some form of "wiring"?

Your brain!

In Jack's case: Those times when he was having negative feelings & thoughts could have opened a gateway for his "glitch/virus" (Anti) to work his way into Seán's brain wiring. You could go as far as to say that Anti is trying to crash the whole damn system! Trying to delete the "Seán/Jack" software & claim it for himself.

At 1st, Anti thought the easiest way to do that was to kill Jack (which he has tried at least twice now). But what if Anti realized at some point that if he was actually successful in killing him, there would be no "system" to take over because it would permanently shut down? And Anti may not have much interest in claiming a damaged body if there's a possibility he can keep it in the best condition possible.

So like anyone creating a computer virus or hacking into a system would do: Anti had to adapt & try a different approach. This could explain why when he last spoke to us (& anytime we see him afterwards), there was no throat slit or any injury to Jack’s body. Because Anti doesn't need to physically kill Seán. He needs to kill him mentally/emotionally! Which is slower, harder to pick up on, & potentially more effective in the long run because it builds up over time.

And being the glitch (bitch) that he is, Anti is slowly feeding off of Seán's doubts, fears, insecurities, etc. to become stronger than ever. Anti is slowly integrating his "code" in small fragments that are harder to find as deep & scattered as possible so then when they finally are able to fully connect & Seán is manipulated into the right mindset, Anti can hit the kill switch. And once he does that...it's hard to say what happens next.

We already know that Anti is able to physically project himself into our world. He actually may be doing exactly that or "hacking" into the other egos, manipulating his "puppets" (JJ; working on Chase; maybe Marvin?) in order to eventually get Jack to where he needs him to be mentally & emotionally in order to go for the "kill."

This could be where the events of the “Mayhem” videos come into play. Since Anti probably has JJ under his control already, Chase would obviously be the next best place to start. Chase’s state of mind is exactly what Anti is looking for & he knows exactly what buttons to push to use Chase however he wants to.

I’m not exactly sure how the “time is broken” concept plays into this yet (I honestly haven’t thought about that until later on as I finish writing this). Seán did mention that he’s really into sci-fi, space, things like that. I wouldn’t be surprised if Anti’s appearances in the Observance videos are adding on to what has already been building. Maybe the egos are all fragments of how Seán might exist in alternate universes? Or how he imagines he would?

But I mostly focused on the early stuff because if we want to know (or continue guessing) who or what Anti truly is...it’s probably better to start from the very beginning.

As awesome as it would be to hit the nail on the head with this: I also understand that I might be completely wrong or going in the way off into the wrong direction with this. Hell, I probably dug WAAAYYY too deep for this one. But I didn’t want to let this fester (especially if I end up being right!) in my brain & I’m curious what others might think about this. And hey, it’s JUST a theory. A GAME Theory! An Ego Theory!

If you actually read through this all of this: Thank you! I really appreciate it!

And now, my brain is off to go hyperfocus on something else...

[kcwcommentary]

VLD2x10 – “Escape from Beta Traz”

2x10 – “Escape from Beta Traz”

Shiro, Lance, and Pidge are on their mission. Lance and Pidge rant at each other about Lance being “a good shot.” Clearly, he’s going to shoot something, but then he just has the Blue Lion open its mouth and Shiro and Pidge fly out of it toward a Galra base. So, what shooting was Lance doing then? Shiro and Pidge go rocketing toward the base and shoot cables out that attach to the surface of the base and pull themselves in. Why didn’t they just maneuver using their suits’ rockets? They’re using their rockets the entire time, but they act here like they can’t maneuver with them. We’ve seen them do so enough times before that the cables are unnecessary. The suit’s propulsion is sensitive and accurate enough that Shiro in this scene uses his to position himself to grab Pidge’s cable to keep her from floating off into space. But what danger is there in her floating off into space when she’s got the same propulsion system that all the Paladins’ suits have? This entire sequence ignores what even it itself tells us of their capabilities, let alone what the show has firmly established regarding the maneuverability of the suits. This sequence is just hollow, fake drama.

Pidge says that this base is supposedly holding only one prisoner. Shiro identifies the prisoner, the person they’re here to find as Slav. This character’s name was dropped back in 2x03 by Ulaz, who said Slav designed the base/system that enabled the base to be hidden in a pocket of space. To enter the base, Shiro and Pidge maneuver to a door with precision using their suits’ systems, further proving the previous sequence to have been badly written. Pidge messes with the base’s sensors so that Lance can use Blue to do a “sonic scan.” Okay, he’s in space, so how does a sonic scan work? While space might not be an absolute, 100% vacuum, it’s really close to it. There’s no medium for sound to move through, so… “sonic?” Lance then pilots Blue into the base so he can join Shiro and Pidge.

“More! Give me more!” Zarkon shouts like a boring, cartoonish villain. He attacks a Druid because the Druid stops zapping him with his undefined purple lightning. I like interesting antagonists in a story, and occasionally Zarkon can be one, but this isn’t it.

Pidge’s evaluation of the “sonic scan,” says that there are two people, not just the expected one, who are being held in this facility. Lance very quickly and humorously jumps at the idea that the other prisoner might be a “space ninja or maybe someone with magical powers.” Given this show, those could be genuine possibilities. Pidge says that they don’t know what Slav looks like. The Blade of Marmora, who have used Slav’s work before to create the space pocket base, didn’t bother to inform this team what Slav looked like? Of course their not knowing sets up some humor later in the episode, but their not knowing is a total contrivance for that. There’s no reason the Blade would have only told them Slav’s name and his location and left them to figure out the rest.

A Galra is seemingly torturing Slav, though we only see one hand. Somehow the purple lightning that’s zapping the helmet that Slav’s wearing allows the Galra to extract information about weapons and genetic modifications. The entire time he’s screaming as it happens. Can we please learn that torture does not yield quality intelligence? If a person is in severe physical distress, then they’re not going to be capable of clear thought. The scene has some built in handwaving ability because it involves sci-fi technology extracting information from him, but he’s still clearly in severe pain, and that changes how a person’s brain and mind function. I’m just really tired of stories that think torture yields actionable intelligence when it doesn’t.

Pidge uses her suit’s thrusters to maneuver to a command center, where for some reason, despite being a command center, has no one on staff. She accesses the base’s systems and reports to Shiro and Lance about the base’s security measures. While Shiro and Lance move on to the next part of the mission, she also uses the system to search for information about her brother Matt. She’s also hacked into a floating drone like Rover from back in the first half of season one, which she’s using to help the guys get through the base. I like that call back of having these drones make an appearance.

Shiro makes it to Slav, who’s makes his first display of calculation/odds-based OCD. Lance meets with the other potential Slav held here and asks them if they’re Slav; they respond by saying, “Yup.” There is something cute about the “yup.” This being is clearly visually coded as a puppy. Lance only asks questions that can be answered with a yup, so we never hear them say anything else.

Pidge hides due to the base’s commander coming to the command center.

Shiro argues with Slav, who’s resisting coming with him. That the Blue Lion is blue makes him willing, but first he’s got to OCD-make his bed. I think it’s a dangerous line to write someone with OCD humorously, since the humor of any form of mental illness can fall into offensive depictions. I think with Slav they might come a little close to that line of not being funny, but I don’t usually think they go over the line. At least in this first episode he’s in, I’m good with how he’s depicted.

Another Galra reports to the base commander that Laika has escaped. This is who Lance is with, though we don’t explicitly know it yet. Lance and Laika continue making their way through the base, and when they run into a drone, Laika pounces and bites into it. Shiro continues his difficulty with Slav, who raves about percent and chance and other realities. “What about this reality? Did you learn to swim in this one?” Shiro says. The voice acting is nice here. “It’s a tiny puddle!” he screams. Shiro doesn’t ever scream out of exasperation the way he does here. This is a new tonal quality to his voice and I like getting this new side of Shiro.

The base commander, observing Laika’s room, even refers to Laika as “my pet.” Whatever initial doubt there might have been for the viewer over which was really Slav should be fully over now.

Lance gives Laika a breakdown of the team. “Pidge is the hacker of our group. Shiro’s our awesome leader. Hunk’s our mechanic. He’s also a chef and just a pretty cool dude to hang out with. And Keith is always doing things like flying into asteroid fields and black holes and cool junk like that. And I thought I was the team’s sharpshooter, but I guess no one else thinks that. Maybe I don’t have a thing. […] I mean they wouldn’t keep me on the team if I didn’t contribute in some way, would they? […] Maybe I’m just a fifth wheel. Seventh if you count Coran and Allura. That’s a horrible wheel to be.” Wow, there’s a lot to unpack in this scene. We have yet another instance of another character confirming Shiro as leader of the group, so it’s a shame that the show eventually takes that away from him. It’s nice seeing Lance express his appreciation for having Hunk as a friend. He even speaks highly about Keith, which calls to question the supposed rivalry they have. The way he sounds talking about Keith here isn’t Lance just being impressed with Keith’s skill, but it sounds the way someone talks who’s impressed by things their friends can do. And then we get a major expression of Lance’s insecurities. Despite his bravado, he doesn’t trust himself to be skilled and capable because he needs confirming feedback from other people and doesn’t feel he’s gotten much. This is a side of Lance’s character that to this point has not been explored, but it gives him significant new complexity. I just wish the show had resolved this aspect of him well. We all deal with insecurities, though some of us have a tougher time than others with ours. Using Lance as a character to explore a person wrestling with those insecurities and then showing how one can positively handle them and come through all that self-doubt would have been an excellent bit of storytelling. I don’t really feel the show does right by Lance regarding this part of his character. This episode does well with it though, even if the rest of the series doesn’t.

Shiro’s carrying Slav, who’s going on and on about Shiro’s arm until he freaks out over cracks and the possibilities of a broken mother’s back. Shiro is trying desperately to work with Slav. I love that Shiro, though frustrated and somewhat baffled by Slav, doesn’t condemn Slav for his having OCD. Shiro is kind and tries to adjust to accommodate Slav’s worries.

The base commander finds Laika and Lance and orders the prison be put on lockdown. The base’s security systems activate as Lance and Laika run from the commander. While Pidge is trying to handle those systems, her search for her brother turns up results of a video that includes him. Several Galra sentries enter the command center where Pidge is.

Slav suggests turning the base’s gravity off so he and Shiro can float over the cracks. Pidge likes the idea too because it’ll hinder the sentries, but the Paladins will still have their jetpacks to let them maneuver. Shiro and Slav meet up with Lance and Laika. Slav informs Lance that Laika is the warden’s pet yupper. They make it back to the hangar, take out more sentries, and encounter the warden. He uses some system he’s got to inject himself with purple liquid (is this supposed to be quintessence?) and it causes his body to distort and increase in size. Despite their weapons being able to tear through sentries, the warden’s additional robotic arms aren’t damaged by Lance’s or Pidge’s bayards nor by Shiro’s hand.

While they’re all fighting, Slav opens the hangar doors, and everything within starts to blow out into space. This includes the Blue Lion, but we’ve seen the Lions sit unaffected by air pressure differentials equalizing from decompressions like this before, so that’s an inconsistency. It could be that Blue is letting herself be blown out on purpose, but that’s not something the show suggests, let alone confirms. Slav gets grabbed by the warden on the way out, and Lance gets a hero moment, demonstrating he actually is really good with a blaster. Shiro even confirms that Lance is the team sharpshooter. Shiro also tries to reassure Pidge they’ll find Matt. He really is a good team leader.

Zarkon continues to be zapped, even causing a Druid to fall down in exhaustion. Haggar comes in to report to Zarkon that she thinks they have a spy onboard. I find it hard to believe that she hasn’t told him before now. Zarkon expresses that he doesn’t care about that. Zarkon asks about his armor, which Haggar has apparently has been working on. It kind of feels weird that whatever work this is that this is the first time it’s being mentioned. She says several people have been killed through her working on it. Zarkon indicates that this armor project is because of the failure of the Robeasts that have been sent after Voltron. It’s clearly setting up the season finale confrontation.

That first annoying sequence of Shiro and Pidge getting on the base aside, I like this episode. The scenes between Shiro and Slav are great, and I think a lot of the responsibility for that goes to the voice actors. That dialog could have easily fallen flat without them. I also really like the exploration of Lance’s insecurities. I often feel this show doesn’t go deep into the characters, but this gave us an intriguing new aspect of Lance. To me, this shows what makes a story good: the characters. The plot of this episode is nothing new. There are plenty of stories involving breaking out of prison. What makes this one different are the characters. The episode needed Shiro and Slav’s conversations and the expressions of personality that result from that. It needed Lance’s expressing his insecurities. Only then, through character, does the plot matter. We care about the plot because we care about the characters.

[incompetent-gay]

Just a whole lot of stuff that I just really need to get off my chest

Cw: mental health, psychiatry, missing pets

In order of how likely I am to actually tell someone and not just freak out and internalize indefinitely because I can’t deal with the shame coming within from my own head:

I haven’t been in school in two weeks now because I went off of a medication I had been doing well on but then stopped being okay a couple weeks prior. I had a bad reaction to yet another medication (yay attempted antidepressant number six of this year!) and now I’m only on two baseline meds that have been stable for a while but they’re not enough on their own. I’m getting DNA tested to get matched with a new medication this coming week but it’s school again and I’ve already missed so much and I’m petrified by the thought of having to face the consequential workload, stress, overwhelming nature of going back after an extended absence. It’s Sunday night and I feel so stuck I’m wishing my days away

My lovely animals keep me sane and they are my babies and I care more about them and their well-being than I do about my own. My baby ball python, Sam, into whom I poured my heart and soul starting in April when I bought her as a week-old hatchling. I wasn’t in school at the time, so we spent every day together. She was so incredibly docile and just the most hypnotizing presence. Probably the chillest ball python I’d ever met, she was most comfortable being handled and would only eat if I was holding her (what kind of ball python does that?!). Eventually she was in classrooms meeting young kids and coming on walks with me and the dog (wrapping herself around my arm). Then in November, I was a mess. I was back in school but brain fog was taking over, I had total lapses in memory and judgement (eventually traced back to yet another no-good medication). I had a friend over who absolutely adored Sam. She held her and was just completely entranced. When it came time for her to leave, she put her back down into the (I know, ridiculously over-the-top) 55 gallon semi-arboreal enclosure I had built for her entirely from reclaimed materials. It had anything a snake could ever want, including, unfortunately, as a fault caused by said mental state, the possibility of escape. It wasn’t an easy escape: she’d have to squish herself onto the top lip of the tank and push and push until the duct-taped and weighted-down screen came loose (guess who will never overlook terrarium clasps again ashahauaiiaoiatsjsn), but she made it. I didn’t check that everything was closed properly, even after my friend admitted that she didn’t know how my makeshift seal was supposed to work. Needless to say, she escaped. It was November, so our radiator shafts were uncovered, leading directly into the wall. I turned my room upside down searching every tiny nook and cranny for my baby. We set heat traps and noise traps and still no sign of her. For months I had nightmares and obsessive thoughts about her whereabouts, read every article I could find about lost&found snakes and I’d take apart my room on a regular basis (once, in the middle of a night, I disassembled my bed in search of her, only to find that I was,, so,, tired and snakeless). My therapist helped me channel the tremendous energy OCD was spending on the level at which it made me aware I was missing my baby into checking and refilling combined waterbowls/hides/humidity boxes that I placed inside of every radiator on every floor of the house. That was healthier coping but she is still missing and I miss her so,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,, much. I turned to my frogs to fulfill my nurturing urges I could no longer channel into Sam. I adopted 3 new Red Eyed Tree Frogs and replaced a broken filter mucking up my African Clawed Frog tank. Things were looking up. Then last week I woke up to two dead frogs, two year-old ACFs who had been active and in perfect health even the evening before. It didn’t take long to realize the aquarium heater (hey Aqueon®...) had gone crazy and, overnight, raised the water temperature (which had been stable within a degree or two for years) more than 10°F in only a couple of hours, frying my frogs. Of all of the frogs I’ve kept, Merry and Pippin were among those in which I was the least emotionally involved. Still, this loss hit me hard. I feel like a failure. Most of all, I miss them. I miss Sam and I have a bundle of energy that I carry around with me as a hope that she will turn up. I miss Merry. I miss Pippin. I miss Frodo, my first ACF with whom I’d been obsessed until her death. I feel like so alone.

I can’t contact my girlfriend. Or ex-girlfriend? I’m not even sure. They’re on tumblr (you know who you are, if you see this please let me know), but there’s no safe phone, messenger, discord, Skype, whatever that we can use to interact. They’re going through a lot. I want to be there for them. I guess I could really use their healing presence too. I worry for them, and I know they worry about me. We used to text for hours everyday but their homophobic guardian did everything within her power to cut off our communication. It was beautiful. It was keeping me going. It was everyday. I miss it. I miss it so,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,, much.

[fenestra333]

When my mom got re-married again she wanted to pretend not to have kids She moved out of the garage which we were living in at my grandmas. I thought 400 to pay my grandma for the tiny room within the garage was an insane amount at 17 but I did it. I had a creative method of getting by when it came to food. Id walk into walmart grab a single candy bar and munch on that while shopping hella low key. I knew exactly which aisle had no camera back then. The shoe section is where I would sneak a vegetarian meal into my tote bag easily. I lived off pb and j and fruit mostly. Cristina introduced me to adder all and I was hooked. At some point tania invited me to live with her for 600? Not exactly sure. I was under their rules but back then it wasn’t a big deal. I am Hella grateful for how long she put up with me. I eventually overheard a fight between tania and robert and heard something about me eventually needing to move out. I got scared. I got into a car accident. Dated Tyler from 17-20. I was unemployed and depressed for intervals with Tyler. I remember one day I was in the room thinking the tiny room at my grandmas. Pressure to pay rent and be useful mounting. It dawned on me that both my sister and brother worked at Daphnes. I popped an addy and went and got the job on the spot. I met Tom working there. I was sweeping and smiling as i had to do. Because I was acting the way the job required I got his attention as well. We laughed about this later in our relationship. We also discovered we had met in Human Sexuality but i rejected his attempt at small talk as I had a bf and was also really confused by his attention. I paid back that 1000 my grandma loaned me to do some CNA course that i realized was not meant for me as I was too easily depressed by the environment of nursing homes. Death was a serious but very expected occurrence and my overactive brain couldn’t handle seeing how lonely these once living people had been cast away into a nursing home to die with random people that had no time to actually hang out with them as we had a list of priorities to check off as part of our training. I got in a car accident on my way home one day. I looked for jobs on Craigslist. I needed a car to get to work and CNA training. I found a quick way to buy a car in a month. Although I didn’t pursue this career it did give Toms dad the idea to be there in case Tom had a seizure. So much shit always happened to Tom when we wouldn’t talk. Living in Santa Bárbara was lonely but it was also triggering that on top of this he had outrageous rich girls living next to him. I went off on all of them one night. Cristina kidnapped me at Toms request i cried so much I really wanted to pretend it was a dream and he wouldnt just throw me away like that. He had broken up with me while he was on shrooms. I couldn’t understand why he was so selfish at 24 lol. I thought he was an adult at the time. Cristina loved to brag about this night. I’ve made her stfu about it recently but it took years for me to say exactly how I felt. She had no water at the house yet she claims she rescued me. She was codependent and didn’t want to be alone with herself. Dragging me into her life. I got us a job but the lady we were caretaking never paid us. As i tried to organize her stacks of documents and ocd methods of being her maid and making no progress cleaning as there was continually new stacks of mail and papers brought back into the apartment. She told me about her youth and how she was an actress. She lost a gig after staying in character too well and using the same angry tone with a producer. She was manipulative now using her acting skills to cheat the system and exploit people. I found a document that stated she was bipolar and manic depressive. I realize now she had never recovered losing out on being a star. She was hella intrusive and new when i was texting a guy. Gerardo? . She mentioned it to cristina during her triangulation talks. My mom now does this. I’ll stop here as it’s come to a point where I am aware that my mom is this lady and I live with her.

[ldaoec]

Amusement.

I am meant to write, regardless of the eyes watching, the minds analyzing— I am meant to write in a diary that you slip out from under the mattress, like a helicopter mom. I am meant to write in a diary, only to come back and find my thoughts annotated, A red-tipped marker circling and swallowing all the things I am allowed to think and feel, your opinions in the margin, And, I am meant to be okay with that— my thoughts, as your entertainment. My secrets, as public domain, I am meant to not feel violated, like you have cut open my cranium for a tourists peek at my thoughts— and, the poems are about you, you argue , so is that not fair?

What about the poems that are not about you? What about the poems about the other, broken parts of my mind and body? What about the pain that I have a right to bleed out? You are not responsible for my feelings— I have told you this. But, I am a boat adrift in the sea, a tiny life raft, and you left me three years ago. You left me to drift in the sea, and I had no one, I have no one, I have no one I can talk to about the ugly thoughts, the tangled mess of synapsis half-firing, and I have no one to help me sort through, sift between what is trash, and what is treasure. All I have is half-formed coping mechanisms, The understanding that the only thing that calms the storm in my brain** is to write, and when my imaginary friends— the only friends I was left with, when you abandoned me— are not louder than the screaming in my head, I write back to whatever is screaming. What about those poems, Mason? What about the laments of how fucking lonely, and terrifying, and consuming it is to have OCD? The poems I write with cracked and bloody knuckles, because I spent all fucking day washing my hands, stuck doing the same thing over, and over, and over again. trying to fall asleep with a dull ache as everything sticks to lotion that doesn’t miraculously fix the half hour I was stuck washing my hands in the shower. No— those poems, those are fair game, because they’re written about— oh no. Those aren’t about you. The poems about my depression? Those aren’t about you, either. The poems about being stuck in bed for days, and weeks, and months on end, are not about you. The “I feel as though I am on a platform, a train whistling past” poems are not, in fact, about you. The, “My therapist says I am dysthymic,” poems is not, actually, about you, unless you’ve changed your name in the last three years. The poems about the nursery, the poems about my cat, the poems about my plants, and my art, and my stories— none of those are about you. The poem about the spider in my bathroom, and the volcano in my head, and the laments that I may, in fact, be a tornado— the poems about the first man who broke my heart, those are not about you. What all of these poems are about— is none of your fucking business. You walked away. You walked away three years ago, and forfeit the right to these parts of me. Because, how am I supposed to let you in to all the hurts, and aches, and pains, when you have been the muse to one of the greatest? I am not sure how we will go back to being friends. I am sure I will get there. I will be surprised how easy it is to tell you things like I used to, but I had a place where I could say anything I wanted to the void, and the void didn’t care. The void wasn’t going to hurt me, and, no matter what you say, you had no right to take that away. I guess I’ll just add this to the lists of hurts that I am healing from, and the lists of poems that I am meant to write for your amusement.

Kiwi Foster © 9/25/21

[silverscribblesuniverse]

MORE ADHD VIKTOR HEADCANNONS!

Hey Friends! So one of the most beautiful parts of Yuri on Ice is how Yuuri’s anxiety is depicted, right? It’s a really interesting detail, which makes him a much more complex, 3-dimensional character – which in turn gives the story more emotional stakes, and makes the viewers want to root for him.

Another lovely thing about it, is that lot of viewers who have Anxiety in real life found a character that they could relate to – a strong, wonderful, precious character who achieves great things, despite his mental health issues.

SO, keeping that in mind, I’d like to share a long-held head cannon of mine (though I certainly wasn't the first to think of it) about another beloved YOI Character.  

Since October is ADHD Awareness Month, I present for your consideration: ADHD Viktor! 

(Based on my personal, real-life knowledge and experiences managing my own ADHD)

ENJOY! (it’s a VERY long post, sorry not sorry, lol) 

- Viktor has Combined Inattentive/Hyperactive Type ADHD.

[According to the DSM-5 (The Diagnostic and Statistical Manual of Mental Disorders, 5th Edition, *which is the most recent edition, published in 2013) ADHD is broken down into three sub-types: Hyperactive Type, Combined Inattentive/Hyperactive Type and *Inattentive Type (*Previously referred to as “ADD” – or Attention Deficit Disorder without Hyperactivity).]

- He’s never been FORMALLY diagnosed though, because OBVIOUSLY talented/“gifted”/successful people can’t POSSIBLY have an Executive Functioning Disorder/Neurodevelopmental Disorder.

[*SARCASM*]

- When he was a little kid (like 4 or 5) he had SO MUCH ENERGY. TOO MUCH ENERGY. ALL THE ENERGY ALL THE TIME. He was ALWAYS talking too much and “getting into trouble” – his constant outbursts were nearly impossible for the adults in his life to handle. So, his parents/guardians enrolled him in various sports, hoping to channel some of that energy into something “more productive”.

[Hello, Hyperactive Symptoms!]

- That’s when he FELL IN LOVE with skating – it was all he ever wanted to do, all he ever wanted to think about, all he ever wanted to talk about, all he ever cared about.

[Ahh, yes, there’s that typical ADHD fixation/obsession]

- And he was good – INCREDIBLY GOOD. So he kept going; He kept getting better and better, and eventually got into Jr. Competitions, where he started winning. And then . . . he kept winning. Suddenly, everyone (especially adults) started praising him for his “dedication” and “focus” – he wasn't constantly being reprimanded for his behaviour anymore; he wasn't being told to “sit still” and “stop fidgeting” anymore.

[People with ADHD often tend to develop a very low self-esteem, because, as children, they are constantly being scolded for their behaviour (Behaviour which they cannot control, because their brains are literally wired differently).]

- But, the praise and attention was only a tiny piece of the puzzle. What REALLY mattered to Viktor was that he had found something he loved, and he was GOOD at it. He finally felt like he belonged somewhere; completely at home on the ice.

[Subconsciously, skating may have given Viktor an incredible creative outlet (People with ADHD tend to be “creative types”), while the exercise during practice may have given him an awesome boost of serotonin, endorphins and DOPAMINE (The leading theory is that ADHD is linked to/caused by an imbalance/lack of dopamine – that’s why stimulant medications can sometimes help. Exercise is also a highly encouraged lifestyle management tool for those with ADHD).]

- So, Viktor kept skating because he loved it, because he excelled at it, and soon he was the Junior World Champion. Things still weren't perfect though – Yakov always yelled at him for spacing out during practice, getting distracted during interviews, forgetting things all over the place, constantly being late (or outright forgetting commitments altogether) and just generally showing a lack of interest/care in anything that didn't involve him physically skating.

[There you are, Inattentive Symptoms; welcome to the party!]

- But like . . . it isn't Viktor’s fault that interviews are so boring. And, besides, Yakov always took care of the scheduling and stuff – if something important came up, Yakov would just remind him!

[People with undiagnosed ADHD tend to subconsciously develop their own “coping” mechanisms to counteract their symptoms – like perfectionism, avoidance, excessive procrastination, or dependency on others.]

- As an adult, Viktor made a name for himself as a figure skating LEGEND. So . . . If he was late sometimes, or distracted, or overly-emotional, it’s totally FINE – LEGENDS like himself are ALLOWED to be ECCENTRIC.

[ADHD can often go unrecognised/undiagnosed/misdiagnosed well into adulthood – especially in “gifted” individuals. ADHD symptoms are also often overlooked, as it can present comorbid with other conditions such as Depression, Anxiety, OCD, ASD (Including Aspergers Syndrome), Tourette’s, Dyslexia, Oppositional Defiant Disorder, and Conduct Disorder (just to name a few).]  

- But now, Viktor’s reaching the end of his career – he’s a 5 time World Champion and . . . nothing is as easy as it once was. He has no more inspiration. He can’t surprise the audience anymore. He’s still winning . . . but it isn't fun anymore. It doesn't make him happy anymore.

[Maybe it’s because no one is good enough to challenge him, so competitions aren't interesting anymore. Or maybe it’s because he’s lonely, with no time for Life or Love . . . but part of the boredom/malaise could ALSO be the lack of DOPAMINE taking its toll. DOPAMINE is responsible for regulating the “reward centre” of the brain – people with ADHD might not feel the same “rush” as others when they achieve things – like getting good grades, being promoted or receiving an award].

- AND THEN comes the infamous banquet – where Viktor meets Katsuki Yuuri, HIS FUTURE HUSBAND AND THE LOVE OF HIS LIFE. Now, Viktor LOVES skating . . . but he can’t remember EVER being happier than when he was dancing with Yuuri. And sure, he’s had lovers before, but NOTHING ever felt like THIS. He is 100%, absolutely, irrevocably, unquestionably IN LOVE. IT’S ALL SO NEW AND EXCITING AND SCARY AND WONDERFUL AND YUURI IS PERFECT AND VIKTOR IS FEELING ALL THE THINGS!!!

[Another symptom of ADHD (and many other psychiatric conditions) is “Emotional Dysregulation” – people with ADHD can find it hard to control their emotions, often have rapidly shifting emotions, feel their emotions INCREDIBLY INTENSELY, and then tend to act on them impulsively. They often view problems/life in “black and white”; It’s pretty much “all or nothing” feelings-wise.]

- One thing leads to another, and suddenly Viktor has dropped EVERYTHING to fly to JAPAN to be Yuuri’s coach on a WHIM because he is overjoyed and excited and in love – AND THERE’S NO WAY THIS COULD POSSIBLY BACKFIRE! THIS IS THE BEST DECISION HE’S EVER MADE EVER.

[There’s that classic ADHD impulsivity/recklessness/risk-taking.]

- He expects Yuuri to be overjoyed to see him – they’re going to skate and talk and have “slumber parties” and fall in love! But . . . that doesn't happen. Not right away, in any case. Instead, Viktor shows up and Yuuri runs away – he doesn't want to have slumber parties and he starts avoiding him and he acts like he doesn't even REMEMBER the banquet! It’s like Yuuri isn't happy to see him at all. So, Viktor may have been a bit teary-eyed, as he went to sleep ALONE (apart from Makkachin) that first night in Hasetsu.

[Some people with ADHD also experience something called Rejection Sensitive Dysphoria (RSD) – an extreme emotional sensitivity to PERCEIVED rejection/criticism].

- Viktor and Yuuri slowly become closer over time; working on their relationships (both personal and coach/student) and figuring out how to communicate . . . even though Viktor has a tendency to be too blunt/push too hard/be too clingy at times.

[EPISODE 2]

VIKTOR: So, do you have feelings for Minako? Do you have a lover now? What about ex-lovers?

YUURI: I’d rather not talk about it . . .

VIKTOR: Then let’s talk about me! Let’s see, my first –

[EPISODE 3]

VIKTOR: The truth is, you’re actually both FAR MORE mediocre than you think. You need to be more self-aware.

[EPISODE 4]

VIKTOR: Yuuri! Why don’t we get some food?

               Yuuri! Want to soak in the springs together? 

               Yuuri! How about a slumber party?

[EPISODE 5]

VIKTOR: It’s amazing you got such a high score after running your face into a wall, but thanks for proving me right about your ability to get a solid PCS! And don’t worry about letting me down, I know you’ll do better next time!”

[EPISODE 7]

VIKTOR: I'm not very good with people crying

              Skater’s hearts are as fragile as glass – let’s try shattering his into                     pieces . . . 

[People with ADHD tend to have communication issues. They might not easily pick up on the emotions of others, interrupt often or otherwise steam-roll conversations. They commonly tend to talk too much, talk too loudly, speak before they think, or say incredibly blunt/hurtful things (all without even realizing what they are doing), which can make them come across as callous, self-centred or tactless. Impatience can also be a HUGE problem – they may tend to dive into new things head-first and don’t always take the time to properly assess situations/build relationships. People with ADHD are often described as being “intense”/“overbearing” or having “BIG PERSONALITIES”; opposingly, they might also be perceived as “flaky”/“aloof”/“uncaring”(depending on ADHD Type and Symptoms Exhibited).]

- Eventually, things start heading in the right direction. Viktor is a fully-fledged coach, and Yuuri just keeps getting better; constantly growing and surprising him. Coaching is exciting for Viktor, because it’s new and novel and he gets to be with Yuuri – but it’s also exhausting, because now it’s HIS job to take care of all the scheduling/organizing/memorizing/time management – things that Yakov used to do. Things that definitely DON’T play to his own strengths.

[EPISODE 2]

VIKTOR: Uh, oh, that’s not a happy face. Let me guess, I forgot to do something I said I would do?

[EPISODE 2]

VIKTOR: Ha, ha, ha, yea, I remember now, it totally slipped my mind! I'm sorry, but you know how I forget stuff sometimes . . . 

[EPISODE 5]

YUURI: I must have told you a million times – but in last year’s nationals I BOMBED EVERYTHING . . .

[EPISODE 5]

YUURI: Do you have any idea where Viktor is? It’s about to start and I can’t find him!

VIKTOR: Sorry, were you waiting?

[EPISODE 6]

YUURI: Come on, Viktor! We’ll miss the flight if we don’t get moving!

[EPISODE 6]

VIKTOR: I'm hungry and this is boring, can we go get hot pot now?

YUURI: I'm kinda in the middle of an interview here . . . 

[EPISODE 10]

VIKTOR: Do you want to try my hot wine?

YUURI: No, I don’t like to drink before a competition

VIKTOR: Oh, right, I forgot. 

There are other little quirks of Viktor’s coaching too; but maybe that’s just because it’s all so new to him. He doesn't have the most experience – but he DEFINITELY has the most enthusiasm.

Like, THAT KISS - (you know the one ;) )

[Pretty impulsive, wouldn't you say? (In the BEST WAY, of course :D)]

And whenever Viktor is rink-side, watching Yuuri skate; he’s always SUPER animated – he gets so invested he even does the quad flip along with Yuuri at the Grand Prix Final in Barcelona! 

[EXCITEMENT - INTENSE EMOTIONS! HIGH ENERGY/RESTLESSNESS – SOMETIMES IT JUST GETS EXPRESSED AS A QUAD-FLIP!]

Viktor also gets super into the other Skater’s short programs at the Grand Prix Final, and doesn't notice how his words/actions are affecting Yuuri. 

[Perhaps it’s just because he loves skating and misses it so much . . . or could it be attributed, in part, to his ADHD brain fixating without him realizing it?]

[So, to sum up; forgetfulness/memory issues, tardiness/poor time management, easily bored/distractable, impulsive . . . those are all pretty much par for the course with ADHD (and other Executive Functioning Disorders as well).]

- In the end, Yuuri wins silver at the Grand Prix Final; but more importantly, he gives Viktor two very important things: Life and Love. And while the road to the GPF is rough and rocky, (managing both Yuuri’s Anxiety and Viktor’s ADHD); their love only grows, changing them and challenging them . . . and making them BOTH stronger for it.

So, there you have it; my ADHD!Viktor head cannons! :) 

He may be forgetful and flaky and blunt and pushy and impulsive and emotional – but he’s also energetic and outgoing and supportive and talented and creative and brilliant and charming and loving.

I see a lot of myself in Viktor – good things and bad things – so this head cannon has a very special place in my heart. Almost all our ADHD-related stories/characters in pop-culture are inaccurate, disregard the realities of ADHD, or just blatantly depict it COMPLETELY WRONG – so when I saw these traits more accurately mirrored in Viktor, a character that I love with all my heart, I couldn't help but expand on the idea.

Having said that, ADHD is a complex disorder; here are some basics:

- ADHD is an Executive Functioning Disorder/Neurodevelopmental Disorder. 

- The name: “Attention Deficit Hyperactivity Disorder” is a bit of a misnomer; it’s not a “lack” of attention, so much as it is the brain’s inability to filter out stimuli, and direct “focus” where it needs to be at any given time. 

- According to the DSM-5, there are 3 subtypes of ADHD – Inattentive, Hyperactive and Combined Inattentive/Hyperactive. 

- Not everyone with ADHD will present ALL Symptoms of ADHD, due to the different subtypes. 

[There are also many more common Symptoms/Comorbidities that go along with ADHD, which I did NOT head cannon for Viktor – things like Sensory Perception Issues/Misophpnia, Coordination Issues/Dyspraxia, and Low Frustration Tolerance/Hot Temper, just to name a few]

- ADHD is GENETIC and HERITABLE – and is linked to a lack of Dopamine. 

- ADHD is not a “Childhood Disorder”. It’s not something you “grow out of” or “cure” – it’s something you learn to manage and live with. Medication is one option – but treatment may also include making lifestyle changes (like diet, exercise, and getting proper sleep), working with ADHD coaches, going to Therapy, and investing time in creating an organizational system that works WITH one’s symptoms.

- An ADHD diagnosis does not mean that one is stupid or lazy or out of control – plenty of highly intelligent, “gifted” or otherwise successful individuals have ADHD (and in fact, with the right diagnosis and treatments, many people who struggle or “under-perform” at school/work due to ADHD are able to harness their previously untapped potential, leading to great improvements in their work, and enabling them to start on a path to success). 

- ADHD isn't a “fake illness” or an “excuse”. ADHD is a very REAL disorder, with a very REAL impact on the lives of those that it affects. However, with the proper diagnosis, knowledge, skills and tools, ADHD is also manageable – and you can absolutely learn how to work WITH your ADHD to become your best self.

***

So, if you've stuck with me this long, thanks for reading! I hope you've enjoyed these little head-cannons for one of my most favourite characters of all-time – and maybe learned something new that can help you or a loved one living with ADHD.

Thanks again! This has been my contribution for ADHD Awareness Month and the YOI One-Year Anniversary!

See You Next Level! ;) 

[hotchnerfuckmeup]

Now and Forever

Emily Prentiss x Reader

Anon: An emily x reader where they're enaged and then emily 'dies' and the reader is absolutely distraught and can't cope or anything and then she comes back and for the next few weeks they're glued to the hip and it's really angsty and fluffy??

A/N:  It’s been a while since I’ve watched this episode, so if I get any information wrong, then that’s why.  I would rewatch the episode, but I’m ocd and don’t want to lose my place where I am, so I just looked up as much information on IMDB as possible.  And for possible copyright purposes, I used a quote/dialogue from IMDB as well.  :)  Slight flood warning, this is a long one!

She stood up as JJ walked back into the waiting room.  Being forced to wait here while her wife was in there being poked and prodded didn’t sit well with her.

“How is she?” she asked, her voice peaking with worry.

JJ’s eyes watered as she looked at Y/N, Emily’s wife-to-be.  She began to shake her head, almost unable to utter what she spoke next.  “She never even make it off the table.”

Her eyes no longer held back the tears that were begging to fall.  Her fiance was gone, and she didn’t even get to tell her a proper goodbye.

“I’m so sorry, Y/N,” JJ whispered as she pulled the now sobbing woman into her arms, holding her carefully.  The other agents stood up, tears flowing from their eyes as their sad expressions were fixed on the now broken woman in front of them, a woman who usually stood taller than most.  She was the strongest of the bunch, but not now.  

Now she was the most vulnerable, felt the smallest.  She felt like the weak one as JJ rubbed her back soothingly, trying to comfort her as she dawned over the fact that Emily was gone, that there was nothing that would bring her back.

Spencer came up behind her, letting his eyes pour tears freely down his cheeks as he wrapped his arms around her frame, pulling her close as JJ stepped away.  Garcia and Derek approached and joined the sad hug, all crying at their loss.

JJ nodded to Hotch and walked her to the next room over, telling him something that may or may not have been important.

The fact was, Emily was dead, gone forever, and in that room were all the people she left behind without being able to say goodbye.

Now she was only a part of their memories, a small fraction engraved in their brains and she would never again get to open her eyes to lay them upon her family, the agents she loved most and the woman she loved more than anything in the world.

She would never get to smell the fresh scent of coffee again, or get to feel the cold winter air upon her skin.  Her senses were diminished with her spirit, and she was just gone.

And that’s what tore Y/N up the most.

She was asked if she wanted to help carry the casket, but she couldn’t bring herself to do it.  So instead, the rest of her team carrying it through the cemetery as she waited at the hole in the ground they were to bury her in.

Everyone’s head were hung low as they lowered the casket into the gaping hole in the earth, watching as it lowered six feet under.  The all stood in a line, and one by one, each of them grabbed a handful of dirt from the mound left beside and threw it onto her coffin, each muttering sad “I love you’s” and “I’ll miss you’s”.  But when it was Y/N’s turn, she didn’t mutter a single word as she picked up a handful of the soil and threw it onto her fiance, tears forming at the corners of her eyes.

JJ and Hotch watched on with heartbroken expressions, a guilty look passing between the two of them, but Y/N didn’t notice.  She was much too focused on the hole beneath her, symbolizing the hole she felt in her chest.

Finally, she let a tear drop from her iris, watching as it fell into the earth below.  She let it soak into the soil that would forever hold the love of her life before she walked away, not stopping to listen to the service, and instead heading back to the limo, asking the driver to take her home without as much of a goodbye to her teammates.  She couldn’t do it, listen to anyone talk about the beautiful life that belonged to the beautiful soul that was Emily Prentiss.  She couldn’t hear anyone utter her name without falling apart completely, so she had to leave.

She just wanted to go home, so that’s what she did.

Sergio climbed up to the top of the bed, pressing his paws gently into Y/N’s sleeping face.

“Alright, I’m up.  You are so relentless,” she said sleepily, swiping at him to get off her.  She looked through her narrowed eyes at the clock on the bedside table.  It was well past noon.  She sighed and flipped over, staring at the empty side of the bed.  It wasn’t supposed to be empty, but it was.  And it would be that way for the rest of her life.

Sergio meowed and pawed at her feet which were peaking out from the sheets.

“Okay, I’m getting up,” she told the cat, gently kicking him away as she climbed slowly out of bed, trudging out of the bedroom she used to share with her true love and made her way to the kitchen, starting up a brew of coffee.

The cat meowed as he brushed against her legs, feeling her sadness radiate off her, wanting to comfort her in any way he could.

Y/N sighed as she peered down at the feline, bending over to pick him up and cuddle him close.

“I’m sorry, Serg,” she whispered.  “I’ve been cranky.  I’ll get better, I promise.”  She gave him a quick peck on his furry head before setting him back down.  Just ask his paws began to roam the floor, her cell phone rang.

She ignored it, just like she’d done in the past month, pretending to be dealing with her problems, when really she just wanted to be alone.  

As it continued to ring, she poured herself a cup of coffee, not bothering to put any cream and sugar in it as she sipped on the black liquid as her phone finished ringing.  Standing in the kitchen, she stared out the window at nothing and sipped her coffee.  It was the same thing she did every day when she woke up.  Since the inevitable happened, this was her routine and she stuck to it.  It was unhealthy, but it didn’t really matter to her.  Nothing did anymore.

Suddenly, her doorbell rang.  She sighed with a roll of her eyes and sat down the coffee cup before heading towards the door, listening for the voice she knew she’d hear.

“Y/N?”  JJ’s voice was slightly muffled by the wooden door between them, but the sternness was loud and clear in her tone.  “You have got to stop this.  I know what you’re going through.  We all do.  You’re not the only one who lost her, don’t you understand that?  But we’re coping with it, and you moping around in your empty apartment and still not coming to work is not going to help.  You need to talk to someone.  I know that’s the last thing you want to do, but it’ll help.  Maybe it won’t but it doesn’t hurt to try.”

A tear fell down Y/N’s cheek as she sighed, trying to collect herself before opening the door to JJ, whose eyes were also red and puffy.  As soon as they locked eyes, she broke again, letting out the sobs she’d held back for so long.  JJ enveloped her, cradling her warily as she cried the tears that she hid away since her fiance left her.  And together they cried until they just couldn’t cry anymore.

Things were seeming to get back on track.

Y/N was back at the bureau, saving lives every day like she always wanted to do.  But suddenly their team was in jeopardy, and Ian Doyle was back, the man who tore apart her life.

“What’s going on?” she asked as she entered the conference room.  JJ and Hotch had called the team in for a meeting, saying they head something important and most likely shocking to tell them.

“Is this about Doyle?” Y/N asked hurriedly, knowing she wanted in every fiber of her being to kill him and do to him what he did to Emily.

“I need you all to listen carefully,” Hotch said as he nodded to JJ, prompting her to close the door.

“Seven months ago, I made a decision that affected this team.  As you all know, Emily had lost a lot of blood after her fight with Doyle.  But the doctors were able to stabilize her and she was airlifted from Boston to Bethesda under covert exfiltration.”

Y/N felt her face heat up and water collect at the corners of her eyes.

“Her identity was strictly need-to-know, and she stayed there until she was well enough to travel.  She was reassigned to Paris where she was given several identities, none of which we had access to for her security.”

“She’s alive?” Penelope asked with teary eyes.  Y/N’s heart felt like it was going to leap out of her chest.

“But we buried her,” Spencer said quietly, his lips gaped a tiny sliver.

“As I said, I take full responsibility for the decision.  If anyone has any issues, they should be directed towards me,” Hotch finished, looking pointedly at Y/N.

“Any issues?  Yeah, I got issues,” Morgan said angrily, taking a step.  His fists were clenched at his sides, trying to surpress the extreme anger that began to boil inside him.

Y/N continued to look at Hotch, their eyes locked for a long time.

“Emily’s alive?” she asked quietly.  

“I understand if you’re angry-”

“She has been walking on this planet for the past seven months while we sat here thinking she was dead?” she asked, interrupting her boss.

“Oh my god,” Penelope muttered through her tears as the door opened.

And there she was.

Emily was here, in the flesh, alive and real.  Y/N wide eyes fixated on the woman she fell in love with.

The room stayed silent as the two women looked at each other, one with a shocked expression, the other with a guilty one.

“You’re alive,” she finally choked out, swallowing a sob.

“I’m so sorry,” Emily whispered as she began to cry, too.

Y/N didn’t waste another second to run into her arms, aching so badly to feel the touch of her skin again, something she’d been deprived of for seven months, something she thought she’d be deprived of for the rest of her life.

“I’m so sorry, Y/N,” Emily said again into her hair, holding her closely.  Their grip on each other was tighter than it had ever been.

The rest of the shocked, confused, and ultimately angry agents in the room just watched the reunion with tired and sad eyes.  They wanted to be happy that Emily was alive.  She’d get to smell fresh brewed coffee after all, and she’d get to feel the cool winter air on her delicate skin.  She’d been smelling and feeling and seeing and hearing and tasting for the entire seven months that they thought they’d buried her.

Spencer quickly walked out of the room without a word.  Morgan managed to pat Emily on the shoulder as she held Y/N as a silent welcome home, but his furious features remained on Hotch.

Leaning back, Y/N looked up at her fiance.  Slowly and carefully, she reached up to her face and stroked her cheek, as if to check to see if she was real.  “I love you.  And I was never going to stop loving you.”

“I love you too, Y/N.  And I would never stop, either.”

And finally they kissed, tasting each other after being starved for months.  The other agents quietly left the room, leaving the two women alone, each giving Emily some kind of acknowledgement to say welcome home as they walked out.  Dave, the last one out shut the door behind him.

“You were alive all along,” Y/N said finally, her voice a mixture of sad and shocked.

“I wanted so badly to tell you,” the older of the two replied, sitting down in one of the chairs.  Y/N sat in the seat next to her, facing her.  “For my own safety and yours, I couldn’t.”

“I understand,” she replied honestly.

“I knew you would,” Emily said with a smile, holding her fiance's hand.  “JJ told me about the first few weeks, though.” 

Y/N sighed, ready for the lecture.  “You were dead.  How was I supposed to react?”

“I’m not saying it wasn’t justified.  You had to walk in here every day seeing my picture on the wall stating that I was dead.  But the thing is, you’re not the only one who lost someone that day.”

“I know, everyone lost you that day, the whole team-”

“I’m talking about me,” Emily interrupted.  Y/N met her eyes again.  “I had to leave you guys and I couldn’t even see you.”

Y/N looked down at their intertwined hands, realizing that Emily lost her family as well all those months ago. 

“We lost each other, and I don’t know how many times I’ll be able to say I’m sorry.”

They were silent for a few more moments before Y/N’s puffy eyes looked back up to Emily’s.

“But we’re together now,” she whispered.  Emily’s lips curled into a tiny smile.

“Now and forever.”

And then they kissed again.

[disguts]

I know I’ve been on a long decline since I’ve gotten here but lately with everything going to shit I really feel like my moods just going to keep getting worse. I don’t want to exist at the moment and no one else wants to front to deal with any of this. I’m trying to keep in mind that bipolar means I’ll be back to a manic fuckhead any day but I think the most painful thing right now is that every single issue feels like a chain strapping me down, that my ideals of being happy and getting rid of problems have been held down by responsibility and all of these tiny little grey areas, all of these people who just... won’t fucking Work Right, they refuse to make things simple, the world refuses to be simple, our brain also refuses to be simple anymore. I’m supposed to be trying to get back into therapy or onto SSI, or at least bracing myself for the jury duty the host’s mother is trying to worm us out of, but I’ve barely even been able to think about things like that because there’s just been so many other things, constantly.  Our OCD is the biggest hamper for me, I believe. Things need to be right, to go right, to go smoothly, and if it is ‘broken’ it needs to be ‘fixed’, and from trauma we are the only ones able to ‘fix’ anything, because no one else will, even if it’s not true, or worse, unfixable.  So many things have been unfixable lately. I should try to get better at venting, but even if one might view it as ‘reaching out for help’, we just feel like it’s offloading and either sharing stress or trying to manipulate others to do things for us. That said even some people who have offered to help us, specifically because they know how we are, end up being part of the stress sometimes. It worries us. 

If we don’t fix it, it won’t get fixed. If someone tries to fix it for us, they’ll break. I don’t think we can fix them too, so it’ll just get worse, so maybe people shouldn’t keep trying. I don’t know. 

It just feels like we’re in a cycle. My host had even less people dependent on them, and even less people they depended on. Them going through this resulted in, well, regression, and retiring from front near permanently. I have no interest in regression and have zero intent in retiring from front. But I worry what may happen instead. I don’t think it’ll be anything, though.

I wish the strong people I felt like I could depend on didn’t all leave. I don’t want to stress out people who can’t handle it. 

We also miss our comfort items.  Secon/dlife was our biggest comfort item, we can look how we want in it, interactions feel nice, it’s also our job. It shouldn’t stress us out. It shouldn’t terrify us. We shouldn’t feel like we should avoid it like this. It shouldn’t make us feel this lonely.

I think part of this is why we ended up in a cu|t, truly, it’s not just fixing things. It’s also doing things, just in general. We feel like we’ve always been the group leader, which is nice if not delusional, but then it feels like our fault if chats are quiet, or if we’re bored. Our interests are specific, or repetitive, or boring, or we merely can’t think of things to do, so it feels as if we’re in charge of deciding things for everyone, figuring out Today’s Activities and all. It’s responsibility we aren’t supposed to feel we have, a feeling I did not have before but have ended up with merely because of the brain we share and the traumas and incidents we endure.

If anyone read all of this, I’m sure I and any other member of my system would appreciate aid in at least this; we’re always free to be invited to do things, and people tend to misjudge our hobbies often if we’re not extremely vocal about them. My system members especially often do not front because they do not feel friendly enough with anyone to approach, something that was helped with the 3D space in secon/dlife (being able to visually approach a group helped us with social skills), so even if I leave front it’s likely for other members to sit around silently.  Being invited to more things, others starting group activities, anything to help us recover from feeling like we are responsible for everyone, would help. Apologies if this is a strange or bad request, we know everyone is struggling and busy just as we are.

I’ve been using “I” and assuming myself Grim often lately, even if unsure, but lately only my husband and my love for him have been my ‘personality’. He feels like the only one I’m truly close to, the only one I can rely on, but it’s not fair to him if I vent only to him, or worse behave like I’m imposing my ‘responsibility’ on him, it doesn’t feel fair to anyone to even post this vent. I don’t feel like we should vent at all. 

It’s likely the depression, but we’ve felt so blank and empty. I wish it would stop. I want everything to stop.

Even when we do vent, it comes out wrong, or hurts others.  We’re aware we’re ‘not responsible for people’, or that ‘its not our job to entertain everyone’, and that we likely do prevent people from helping often (We try to be orderly and on top of everything out of habit, so any changes we don’t ‘approve of beforehand’ can cause panic), but I am sorry for that regardless.  I’m not sure how to get better with this.

I got distracted, and don’t know what else to say, because I’ve already forgotten most of what I wrote here. This post got long. sorry.