#so down bad may need to go to a psychiatrist

[ayana-y-ana]

There's just sumn about them white boys mann😫

My ancestors looking down at me as I talk about how much I love white men

[cocklessboy]

The biggest male privilege I have so far encountered is going to the doctor.

I lived as a woman for 35 years. I have a lifetime of chronic health issues including chronic pain, chronic fatigue, respiratory issues, and neurodivergence (autistic + ADHD). There's so much wrong with my body and brain that I have never dared to make a single list of it to show a doctor because I was so sure I would be sent directly to a psychologist specializing in hypochondria (sorry, "anxiety") without getting a single test done.

And I was right. Anytime I ever tried to bring up even one of my health issues, every doctor's initial reaction was, at best, to look at me with doubt. A raised eyebrow. A seemingly casual, offhand question about whether I'd ever been diagnosed with an anxiety disorder. Even female doctors!

We're not talking about super rare symptoms here either. Joint pain. Chronic joint pain since I was about 19 years old. Back pain. Trouble breathing. Allergy-like reactions to things that aren't typically allergens. Headaches. Brain fog. Severe insomnia. Sensitivity to cold and heat.

There's a lot more going on than that, but those were the things I thought I might be able to at least get some acknowledgement of. Some tests, at least. But 90% of the time I was told to go home, rest, take a few days off work, take some benzos (which they'd throw at me without hesitation), just chill out a bit, you'll be fine. Anxiety can cause all kinds of odd symptoms.

Anyone female-presenting reading this is surely nodding along. Yup, that's just how doctors are.

Except...

I started transitioning about 2.5 years ago. At this point I have a beard, male pattern baldness, a deep voice, and a flat chest. All of my doctors know that I'm trans because I still haven't managed to get all the paperwork legally changed, but when they look at me, even if they knew me as female at first, they see a man.

I knew men didn't face the same hurdles when it came to health care, but I had no idea it was this different.

The last time I saw my GP (a man, fairly young, 30s or so), I mentioned chronic pain, and he was concerned to see that it wasn't represented in my file. Previous doctors hadn't even bothered to write it down. He pushed his next appointment back to spend nearly an hour with me going through my entire body while I described every type of chronic pain I had, how long I'd had it, what causes I was aware of. He asked me if I had any theories as to why I had so much pain and looked at me with concerned expectation, hoping I might have a starting point for him. He immediately drew up referrals for pain specialists (a profession I didn't even know existed till that moment) and physical therapy. He said depending on how it goes, he may need to help me get on some degree of disability assistance from the government, since I obviously shouldn't be trying to work full-time under these circumstances.

Never a glimmer of doubt in his eye. Never did he so much as mention the word "anxiety".

There's also my psychiatrist. He diagnosed me with ADHD last year (meeting me as a man from the start, though he knew I was trans). He never doubted my symptoms or medical history. He also took my pain and sleep issues seriously from the start and has been trying to help me find medications to help both those things while I go through the long process of seeing other specialists. I've had bad reactions to almost everything I've tried, because that's what always happens. Sometimes it seems like I'm allergic to the whole world.

And then, just a few days ago, the most shocking thing happened. I'd been wondering for a while if I might have a mast cell condition like MCAS, having read a lot of informative posts by @thebibliosphere which sounded a little too relatable. Another friend suggested it might explain some of my problems, so I decided to mention it to the psychiatrist, fully prepared to laugh it off. Yeah, a friend thinks I might have it, I'm not convinced though.

His response? That's an interesting theory. It would be difficult to test for especially in this country, but that's no reason not to try treatments and see if they are helpful. He adjusted his medication recommendations immediately based on this suggestion. He's researching an elimination diet to diagnose my food sensitivities.

I casually mentioned MCAS, something routinely dismissed by doctors with female patients, and he instantly took the possibility seriously.

That's it. I've reached peak male privilege. There is nothing else that could happen that could be more insane than that.

I literally keep having to hold myself back from apologizing or hedging or trying to frame my theories as someone else's idea lest I be dismissed as a hypochondriac. I told the doctor I'd like to make a big list of every health issue I have, diagnosed and undiagnosed, every theory I've been given or come up with myself, and every medication I've tried and my reactions to it - something I've never done because I knew for a fact no doctor would take me seriously if they saw such a list all at once. He said it was a good idea and could be very helpful.

Female-presenting people are of course not going to be surprised by any of this, but in my experience, male-presenting people often are. When you've never had a doctor scoff at you, laugh at you, literally say "I won't consider that possibility until you've been cleared by a psychologist" for the most mundane of health problems, it might be hard to imagine just how demoralizing it is. How scary it becomes going to the doctor. How you can internalize the idea that you're just imagining things, making a big deal out of nothing.

Now that I'm visibly a man, all of my doctors are suddenly very concerned about the fact that I've been simply living like this for nearly four decades with no help. And I know how many women will have to go their whole lives never getting that help simply because of sexism in the medical field.

If you know a doctor, show them this story. Even if they are female. Even if they consider themselves leftists and feminists and allies. Ask them to really, truly, deep down, consider whether they really treat their male and female patients the same. Suggest that the next time they hear a valid complaint from a male patient, imagine they were a woman and consider whether you'd take it seriously. The next time they hear a frivolous-sounding complaint from a female patient, imagine they were a man and consider whether it would sound more credible.

It's hard to unlearn these biases. But it simply has to be done. I've lived both sides of this issue. And every doctor insists they treat their male and female patients the same. But some of the doctors astonished that I didn't get better care in the past are the same doctors who dismissed me before.

I'm glad I'm getting the care I need, even if it is several decades late. And I'm angry that it took so long. And I'm furious that most female-presenting people will never have this chance.

[propertyofkylar]

crawls in covered in blood

Harper 19 👀?

doctor's orders - m!harper x gn!pc

tags/warnings: 19. kidnapping, drugging, dubcon, medical kink, reader's genitalia left ambiguous

word count: 1810

note: wow....i hope THE harperfucker enjoys this...

“Mhm. And how has your mood been lately?”

You shifted slightly in your chair, sitting on your hands. Dr. Harper was a strange one. He was something of a therapist and psychiatrist. But he also treated injuries, and you had heard he’d even done gynecology work, so you still weren’t entirely sure what kind of doctor he even was. But the pills he prescribed worked well, so you came every Friday to see him. 

“Um,” you hedged a bit, but Harper’s encouraging smile urged you forward. “I mean, it’s not great. You know? Things kinda…suck.”

Harper nodded as you spoke, looking the perfect image of a doctor as he jotted down something on his notepad.  

“So I guess I’ve just been kind of…down. If that makes sense?” You offered. 

Harper nodded again. “Would you like a cup of tea?”

“Huh?” You hadn’t expected that. Harper offered you a warm smile. 

“I’m experimenting with more herbal remedies,” he explained. “I’ve purchased some tea leaves that claim to help with feelings of depression and anxiety. I thought you might like to try some. I know you like the pills, so this would just be a supplement of sorts. It may help lift your mood, even just a bit.”

Something made you feel a little uneasy. But your doctor had never steered you wrong before. And it was just a cup of herbal tea. What’s the worst thing that could happen? It would taste bad?

So, you nodded. “Sure. Thanks.”

Harper gave you another smile and stood up, busying himself with an electric kettle in the corner of the room. You watched idly from your seat. Maybe a warm cup of tea would be exactly what you needed. 

Several minutes later, Harper handed you a steaming mug. An herbal smell of chamomile, lavender, and something else you didn’t recognize wafted towards you. “If you like it, I’ll send it home with you along with your meds.”

You thanked the doctor and took a sip. It was warm with a mildly sweet taste. “It’s good,” you said, going back in for another sip. 

“I’m glad you like it,” Harper said. 

At the very least, a warm drink would make you feel better temporarily. The doctor made idle chitchat with you as you continued drinking. By the time you had emptied the mug, though, your head was feeling a little fuzzy. 

“Are you alright?” Harper asked, only seeming mildly concerned. “The herb blend does have a relaxing effect. It may be that it’s making you tired. 

“Mm…yeah…” you rubbed your eyes, suddenly feeling groggy. “Haven’t been sleeping well lately…”

“Don’t worry,” Harper was leaning forward in his chair, almost in anticipation. “Close your eyes. My next appointment isn’t for a while. You can sleep here for a bit, no worries.”

“‘Kay,” you murmured, your eyes shutting of their own accord. “Just a lil bit…”

You were out like a light. 

When you came to, you had no idea where you were. 

It didn’t feel like you were still in the hospital, though it still seemed like a doctor’s office of sorts. But the light was harsh and artificial, and you got the feeling this room wasn’t used too often. 

Also, your arms were bound to the bed, which wasn’t great. 

“Mm?” You were still quite groggy, so actual words didn’t come out of your mouth. You suddenly became aware of a figure looming over you, smiling. “D-doctor…?”

Harper undid your arm bindings, inviting you to sit up. “Sorry for that! I didn’t want you to move around or get violent in your sleep. The…tea effects are a little unpredictable.”

You rubbed at your sore wrists - how long had you been like this? - as you took in the surroundings. “Where did you take me?”

Harper rolled a chair next to the bed, stroking your hair in a rather unprofessional manner. “This is my private office. You need a more intensive therapy.”

You blinked. “I do?”

Harper nodded. “Yes. Your depression and anxiety is rather treatment resistant. I want to try some different things with you to help you get better,” he slid his hands to hold yours. They were cold and smooth. “Doesn’t that sound good?”

There was something wrong. Something was off. But your brain felt so, so fuzzy. “Yeah…that sounds nice.”

Harper beamed and clapped his hands together. “Excellent! Now, let’s begin,” he pulled his notepad out and studied it closely. “You say you’ve experienced rape and sexual assault. Is this right?” 

You shifted uncomfortably. “Uh…yeah.”

He nodded again and checked something off on the notepad. “Good. Then we are going to have sex.”

“What?!” Your ears were ringing. Did he just say that?

Harper set down the notepad and looked closely at you. “You say the assaults cause you trauma. Correct? I can show you how sex can be pleasurable and it will sort of rewire your brain.” He smiled placidly at you. “Don’t worry, you can trust me.”

It was weird. Something felt off. But…you trusted him. So you found yourself agreeing.

“Good!” Harper smiled warmly at you, standing up in front of you. Despite the smile, there was something oddly intimidating about him. But he was a doctor, and you weren’t. So it was probably okay. Right? 

The doctor sat next to you on the bed, moving closer then he’d ever been. “The first step is foreplay. This usually begins with kissing. Are you comfortable with that?” His breath was warm on your face. You nodded. 

And then the two of you were kissing, Harper’s mouth surprisingly cold, much like his hands were. “Very good,” he murmured. Harper practically tugged you into his lap and your patient gown rode up, making you suddenly very aware that there was nothing on underneath. Wait, weren’t you in a therapy session before? Where did your clothes go…?

Your thoughts were interrupted when you realized you could feel Harper’s cock rubbing against your most sensitive areas. The feeling drew a whimper out of you, which sparked Harper to reach under the gown and grab at your back. 

“P-please,” you whined, grinding down on Harper. 

But he did not relent. “Please what?” He asked. “You need to be specific.”

“Please…” you sucked in a deep breath. “Please, fuck me.”

“Very good,” Harper pulled away and beamed. “You’re a very good patient. You learn quickly.”

He reached into a nearby drawer and pulled out a small tube. As he squeezed the slimy fluid onto his fingers, you realized what it was - lube. “This may be cold,” Harper said before slipping two fingers into your hole. You bit down on your lip and groaned as the doctor scissored his fingers inside of you. It felt good, but it also felt methodical and practiced.

You pawed at the bulge in Harper’s pants, which he was not expecting judging by his sharp intake of breath. “T-that’s enough,” he stammered, momentarily losing his cool composure. “I think you’re ready now.”

Harper pulled his hand back and unzipped his pants. With one movement he tugged down his pants and boxers and you were suddenly staring directly at his thick cock. It was flushed and twitching, and the bead of precum on the tip gave you the sudden urge to lick it. 

But that wasn’t what was going to happen, at least not today, as Harper was stroking his dick with additional lube, and the way he was looking at you - no, leering - was decidedly unprofessional. You were too far gone at that point, though. The only thought in your head was how badly you needed that cock inside of you.

Your doctor grabbed you by the hips and, ever-so-slowly, lowered you down onto his cock. Harper practically hissed as you sunk further and further onto him, until your hips were flush with his. 

“V-very good,” Harper managed to get out, his face turning red. This was an act you were quite familiar with, and your instincts kicked in. You started moving up and down, Harper’s hands still gripping you tightly, and he began rocking his hips in unison.

Harper seemed practiced in every aspect, with his cock managing to hit every sensitive spot inside of you. He was consistent, too. Every thrust was almost rhythmic. It made the hospital bed creak and squeak, and if you weren’t almost entirely fucked out of your mind, you would’ve worried about its stability. But all you could focus on was riding Harper and how fucking amazing it felt. Maybe it was that tea you had, or maybe your doctor was just that good at fucking.

His grip on your hips only added to the pleasure and you quickly began feeling heat intensifying within you.

“I think,” you tried to start but were cut off by your own moan. “I’m gonna…” 

“Cum,” Harper said plainly, though clearly struggling to stay calm. “You can cum. It’ll - haa - be good for you and your…fffucking treatment.”

You didn’t need Harper to tell you twice, his hips slamming into you. You grabbed onto his shoulders and cried out as the orgasm wracked your entire body. You squeezed your eyes shut, but when you opened them, you noticed Harper was staring intently at you. It felt as though he was staring into your soul.

After several more thrusts, you could tell Harper was about to hit his limit as well. Never easing up on his grip, Harper held you down as he came, filling your insides with his hot cum. The two of you stayed connected for a few moments before he gently pulled you off, you letting out a whine at the loss of contact. Harper quietly studied his cum leaking out of your hole and dripping down your leg, then jotted down a few more notes in his notebook. You wondered what he was writing.

“Well,” Harper smiled at you, straightening his clothes out. “You did a great job. You’re a fast learner. I hope that was pleasurable.”

You could only nod in response.

“However,” Harper looked down at his notebook with a slight frown. “I’m afraid you still have a long way to go. This is only the beginning. I’ll need to keep you here at least for a few more days for further studying and treatment.”

“Oh…” you mumbled. In your post-orgasmic state, you struggled to understand what was going on. But maybe a longer stay wouldn’t be so bad.

Harper stood up, clutching his notebook to his chest, and gave you a few soft pats on the head. “No worries. I’ve already communicated with your guardian and school, so everything will be just fine.” He gave you another grin, one that felt a little less genuine, and made you feel a little uneasy. “Trust me. There is no better place for you to be right now than right here.”

And with that, he left the room.

[sysmedsaresexist]

Hello. I know I've sent in messages before but very very rarely. But recent events have caused us to have a question. Just this week, we got officially diagnosed with D.I.D and recommended the idea of getting a psychologist for the first time in my life, besides a psychiatrist. Two of my alts say they can't be serious but the other three think they are bout the psychologist and we are nervous. I saw you talking about disorganized attachment in your latest posts and was wondering if you could tell me more bout what that is because it sounds like I may have experienced that and I'm trying to understand myself and us more from others with experience with D.I.D and similar disorders. We hope that makes sense! We are still very new to all of this. Thank you so much for your time. - Us

First, congrats!!! Try to come back and tell us what therapy and the interviews are like! I'm certain my followers would love to hear about it. It's scary, I'm so proud of you ���️

Disorganized attachment is both very complicated, and quite easy to understand. I just reblogged a couple old posts about it, but this will be shorter :)

This is my favorite image to describe it!

Note that disorganized attachment (DA, from here on) is linked to low trust in self AND others. All of these types of attachment have shown strong links to different types of disorders, but DA is most associated with dissociative disorders.

The most important thing I've learned is

Even well-meaning, well-intentioned, loving parents can cause DA

DA can be hidden trauma, its relation to neglect is much stronger than originally thought, and neglect is a lot harder to spot and understand than straight up abuse.

A quick note here: DO NOT play trauma Olympics-- with yourselves, with others, on this post, nothing. Trauma is a personal reaction to events, abuse, or neglect and can occur in response to literally anything. When it comes to CDDs, we're looking at cumulative responses resulting in psychopathology, and you don't get to decide what was enough for other people.

It's their reactions.

Mind your own business.

So, all that said, DA is about the child being both fearful and reliant on caregivers. They want to both flee to and flee from caregivers. When a caregiver is unpredictable, the child has a difficult time establishing a consistent view of the caregiver, and of themselves. In other words, the caregiver is both needed, and someone to be avoided, and the child may not understand what makes them a “good” or “bad” child, as the caregiver’s behavior is often confusing and unpredictable.

I'm going to throw out a couple examples here:

Parent A has yelled at you, and you're scared to go to parent B and talk about it - neither parent feels safe but they're your only source of comfort

You're hungry, but parents scold you for eating too much - you're both scared to ask for your needs and yet reliant on their abilities to meet them

Sometimes parent is attentive and kind, and sometimes very dismissive - you never know what you're going to get, but when they're dismissive, it kills your drive for things you thought you enjoyed - sometimes parent puts your art on the fridge and sometimes they throw it in the trash, and maybe that particular piece was important and you'd expected better reception

Parent gets physical when they drink but at school, parent is a model citizen and teachers and other students always tell you how lucky you are

Parents are openly homophobic and you think you might be a little gay - they're good people otherwise (you think), and maybe if you just keep that part of you down...

Parent struggles with their own mental illness and you never know what kind of reaction they'll have, but you treasure the good memories and hold out hope you'll see that side of them again, despite the many letdowns

Parent doesn't let you keep anything to yourself, it's to the point you want to avoid them as much possible, only seeing them for meals

Parent is... mean. Just flat out mean, and they'll tell you no one will listen to you. There's no point is trying to find help with other caregivers-- teachers, babysitters, friends. It's just you and them, against the world.

The start of DA is typically formed in infancy when a parent doesn't respond properly to their child. Missed feedings, not enough skin time, mixing "cry it out" with giving in, ignoring cries for food or changing. These first attachments in infancy set the tone for all your attachments going forward. Meeting needs and milestones help the brain develop in a healthy way. If some of these milestones are missed or slowed, you tend to see psychopathology of some kind as a result. Various future relationships are likely to be affected, and more often than not, you respond to your own children the same way-- a type of intergenerational trauma.

And this is only the grey areas. We haven't touched full and proper abuse and how that can affect someone.

The result of DA is that a child will try to push memories and feelings about their caregivers down so that they're not bothered-- they can interact with their caregiver, whatever mood they're in or whatever happened yesterday.

If you just kill your feelings, parent's outbursts don't hurt as much. If you just don't think about what they did to you, you can put on a smile and get through dinner.

This is, in and of itself, dissociation. A rejection of feelings or memories. DA on its own isn't very likely to cause a CDD, but with additional trauma, it's... oof.

Children with DA and suffering from abuse “are likely to generate two or more dissociated self states, with contradictory working models of attachment,” in order to handle their confusing relationship with the caregiver. This can go in several directions, not necessarily a CDD, but it becomes much more likely.

So, the child needs to maintain a relationship with the caregiver– they have no one else to turn to, so the child can develop dissociation as a way to make sense of themselves, and to maintain a child-caregiver relationship. They may “forget” the abuse, or deny it. “It is an adaptive and defensive strategy that enables the child to function within the relationship, but it often leads to the development of a fragmented sense of self.” This fragmented sense of self may or may not develop into something worse– namely, BPD and DID based on severity, frequency, and whether there was any sense of reprieve (i.e. a child can avoid the worst of dissociative symptoms if one of their parents was more supportive, because it helps them build some positive attachments).

I really hope this helps!

Good luck, come back soon!

[godspeedviper]

How the Therapists Handle your Suspicions - Headcanons

𖤐 SFW || TW: mentions of psychiatric hospitalization

𖤐 Requested by @cthulhu-cat : Can I please get headcanons of the psychiatrists with someone who has distrust of mental health workers? (i.e. "If I'm honest, I might get committed." "They wouldn't understand." "They'd look down on me if I admitted this.")

Dr Jonathan Crane (Scarecrow)

It's the "hard" patients he likes the most. Jonathan Crane has always been up for a challenge, but what he really enjoys is the fear. He knows how to read fear in its many expressions; as standoffish behavior, as shyness, as body language and tone.

As soon as he identifies his patient's expression of fear he switches tactics. Watching him transform his entire demeanor in a matter of seconds only intensifies the fear and anxiety you feel sitting in front of him.

"Do you know what fear is, child?" It's his favorite question to ask. "A relinquishing of power. Fear is your mind telling your body to surrender. Now, are you gonna let me have all the decision making power over you, or are you going to give me something to work with?"

While his methods may be a bit harsh, they are ultimately effective. Over time he teaches you how to tackle that fear head on, how to use that emotional energy to your advantage, and ultimately how to see it in others. You're his best pupil, he tells you. He's very proud of the person you become when you bend fear to your will the same way he does.

Dr Hannibal Lecter (NBC)

Unlike Dr. Crane, Hannibal approaches apprehensive patients with a more gentle approach. He makes sure to give you a few sessions just to bond and get to know each other better before you opened up about why you're really here.

Sometimes he will offer you tea and make sessions feel more like a friendly invite. However, this doesn't mean he goes easy on you either. Hannibal seems to have bizarre skill that allows him to sense when you need some interrogation, and when you would otherwise shut down if pushed.

"Do they need to understand?" he questions you. "One does not need to understand someone in order to have sympathy for them. Anyone can see that you're suffering, so it's understandable to act up under such pressure. People can be more accepting than you initially believe."

He gives you the courage to explore vulnerability, and learn to let your guard down. Over time you come to think of him almost as a close friend. There's an inherent intimacy in Hannibal's office, he cultivates that feeling with ease.

Dr Harleen Quinzel (Harley Quinn)

There's Dr. Quinzel and then there's Harley. That is, there's Quinzel's professional side, and then her "quirky girl next door" side. As soon as she feels you holding back from her, she goes full Harley mode, talking to you like a concerned aunt.

She always does her best to make you feel safe, and you soon learn that her pristine office holds a lot of little surprises. Hidden among the filing cabinets and drawers is a cache of plushies and fidget toys.

"Would it be so bad if you were committed?" There is a sincere worry present in her eyes. "I will never purposely put you in harm's way, and I also want what's best for you. I work inpatient half the time so I'll be sure to watch you. I won't let anyone hurt you there, I promise."

You ultimately stick to just weekly visits in her office, but there is that sense of comfort knowing that if things ever got too bad, Harley would still be there on the inside to help you through the journey. You would be in safe hands.

Dr Hannibal Lecter (Silence of the Lambs)

"Are you afraid of me? Or afraid of what I do as a psychiatrist?" He seems to almost be amused by your initial apprehension. He gently pokes and prods with various questions trying to get a feel for you. At first you find it a bit cruel, but as you learn over time, Hannibal loves to make everything a bit of a game.

Two can definitely play at that game. Once you pick up on this playful tone, you start to make your own moves. Sometimes you purposefully held back, taking mental note of how many ways he will try to crack you open like a thief picking a lock.

You grow fond of these sessions and look forward to each one. He inspired that mischievous spark in you, and you enjoy trying to toy with him as much as he does you. He awakens a curiosity in you to see what you'll become when you allow yourself to trust.

"They will think we're in love." He teases. Sometimes you do wonder if you love him. Sometimes you think it's just a leap, and you're simply happy that his presence in your life has really made a difference. "I'm just projecting." You tell yourself, but the truth is you don't quite know.

ao3 || guidelines || WIPs || Ko-Fi

[thegloomybat]

I need advice on what to about s⭐️ving with the meds i take.

Heyy. So continuing on my last post. I’m just in a bit of a pickle rn. So, i have rlly bad adhd, but i was never diagnosed somehow until last year, when i was EXTREMELY behind in school, i was not on track to graduate on time. I finally got diagnosed and prescribed adderall. But then i switch psychiatrists and he unprescribed it the first appointment bc he w31gh3d me and i was underw31ght :( he put me on wg meds and at the time i didn’t know :( so earlier this year i continued to be SUPER behind, when i was at a ‘healthy’ w8 (gross) he prescribed it back, and then unprescribed 2 times again for unrelated reasons😭well, i didn’t graduate in may like i was supposed to. It’s October, now i’m just trying to get my ged. I need adderall to do absolutely anything, but rn mainly for school. So i’ve been on it again for the past few months. I’ve been in a plateau with my w8. Earlier this year i started l0sing w8 again and he threatened to give me the wg meds again if i kept going down. I know he’ll take me off the adderall again if i go too low. Does anyone have advice on how to be heavier for a w31gh in😭he used to check me for anything in my pockets and hats, he hasn’t done this in a long time tho. But just in case? Especially if i start going down a lot again, he specializes in ED’s (very unfortunate, my mom made me go to him, i stay bc i need meds), he said that last year he would’ve hospitalized me if i got any lower. I CANNOTT let that happen, i would actually lose it. So there’s that. But my main point is, im wondering if anyone else takes adderall and has active 4n4? I wanna know your guyses experiences because one of the reasons i still eat more than i want to (less than or equal to 800) is because i also don’t want to get any alarming bad side effects bc its a stimulant. Like i’m not tryna have a heart attack or something 😭butttt i can’t stand looking like this anymore or not l0sing w8. Idk what to do. It helps me s⭐️ve/l0se my ap3tit3 which is good, but then i just eat up too many cals in one meal to compensate. I just don’t want to have a heart attack or something serious lol. The past few days i’ve been doing much better at being below 800, around 750-650. I’ve still been taking it. I eat a bigger meal in the morning before i take it. Around 300-400 cals. (It sounds like so much ): and then about 8-10 hours later i’ll eat again, something around or less than 200. About that. With the 750-650 intake, i’m finally going down again!! But, i just feel weird throughout the day when i take it. I get feelings of my heart dropping, or aching (i think it’s just anxiety tho) or my brain genuinely feels fuzzy its so weird. And like dizzy i guess. I wanna go lower on my cals intake but idk how low i should go while taking it. I just need to continue taking it tho, but i’m not tryna have like a life-threatening episode bc i’m not 34ting enough and taking a heavy stimulate (i take 20mg XR). At the same time, i used to take it last year when i was under w8 and i was fine-ish?? I only took 10mg tho. One time i took a 30mg IR and i was fine too?? I’m just lowkey traumatized cuz there HAS been times where i took it and had TERRIBLE reactions, like trembling so much, SO much trouble breathing, just this weird feeling and so much anxiety and panic it was so bad i thought that was it for me😭BUT whenever that happened, i 🤮 the night before. I just don’t want that or anything worse to happen even if i don’t 🤮 but just by s⭐️ving yk? Does anyone have the same experience or any advice or tips???

[rottenhavec]

i'm not an expert when it comes to therians/otherkin (or any terms you guys typically use) but this was made by a "fake therian" some time ago and it's kinda weird/confusing

so if may ask, as you're the only therian/otherkin that I know, may I get your opinion and maybe some wisdom from this?

Definitely a form of rage bait.

Therianphobia and furryphobia isn't a thing when put in that term, and this person's definitely out to put a bad rep on nonhumans (specifically therians.)

(Yes we are put down, but those terms aren't really a thing and sound very unserious)

The whole "therians using litterboxes" is just a lame excuse from people to try and make us look bad, it's been going on for ages. Those litterboxes that were put in schools were for service animals.

I think if this person wasn't joking (which is like 1% out of 99% of faking) this would be a very serious issue that might need to be looked into by a psychiatrist.

*drops mic*

[avvail-whumps]

Can we get an alternate ending where Leo tells the truth and Sharpe is determined to get Roy punished whereas Roy is already planning how to hurt Leo more

‘guns for hire’ — alternative ending (money solves everything)

guns for hire masterlist

cw: past captivity, past torture, rescue, slight recovery whump, whumpee referred to as “kid” but he’s an adult, discussions of dub-con, stockholme syndrome, minor blood, violence, manhandling, recapture, kidnapping, implied non-con at the end (nothing explicit)

Leo didn’t actually remember nodding his head.

It was like he had been dreaming; everything had been floating like his head was flying off his shoulders, all the words they spoke like muffles in his ears.

Sharpe had come round the desk, his hands heavy on his shoulders and grounding him back into reality. He hadn’t even realised that there were tears streaming down his cheeks until Summers had appeared by his other side with a box of tissues.

“It’s okay, Leo,” she whispered softly, and there was relief in her eyes. Relief that Leo wasn’t sure he was feeling right now. “Can I wipe your face? Is that okay?”

He felt himself nod his head that time. That was a miracle in itself. Her gentle hands wiped the tears from his face with a soft tissue, a warm touch that didn’t make him feel as comforted as Roy’s. His throat closed up in terror. What had he done? He’d disobeyed his orders and he’d told them.

Why? Why had Leo done that?

“But I love him,” Leo sobbed, and Summer paused for a second, a grimace on her face.

“It’s not love, Leo,” she answered gently, as if she was treading on thin ice or that he was made of glass and could break any minute. His shaking hands tried to scrub the tears away.

“He’s going to be so mad at me.”

The words had become clogged in his throat, and Sharpe squeezed his shoulders again, trying not to let him spiral. Leo wasn’t sure if it was working or not, because he could just imagine Roy in the same building as him, blissfully unaware of the fact that he’d just destroyed any chance of theirs to be together.

Because that was what they both wanted.

“Roy doesn’t love you.”

They both wanted it.

“What you’re feeling may seem like love, but it’s not real.”

He was so sure of that.

Summers set the box of tissues down on the table, easing him out of his relentless thoughts. His puffy eyes met her own gaze, pooling with deep sympathy. Sympathy? Why sympathy?

“Roy isn’t going to hurt you again, kid,” Sharpe cut in, drawing his attention away from the female detective with a soft blink. “You’re gonna spend some time in Witness Protection, alright? He won’t be able to touch you again. You, or any of the others.”

His back suddenly spurred with this stinging pain, reminding him of the whip tearing his muscles apart, the blinding agony that he’d succumbed to. The person who whipped him had a blurry face, but just for a second, he saw Roy’s eyes.

But he was also kind. He cooked with him - he was bad at things and he laughed when he would. He didn’t want to let that go. It was all he ever wanted.

He heard Sharpe turn to Summers, his voice quiet. “I want him at the hospital and I want him properly fed and comfortable. I want a psyciatrist called for an evaluation before they want him in court to testify.”

“Psychiatrist?” Leo croaked, his heart thundering. Sharpe offered a small smile.

“Yeah, kid,” he nodded. “You’ve been through a lot. You’ll get the help you need.”

The two kind detectives had stayed by his side until his tears stopped, and Leo was able to exit the stuffy room in order to see his father. It had been an amazing thing, to feel his dad hug him so tightly for the first time, and he hadn’t even wanted to let go. Leo’s head had remained plastered to his father’s shoulder during the journey to hospital, and after riding in silence, Leo had dissolved into sobs once again.

His father held him tightly, so tightly, but it wasn’t tight enough to fill that hollow void that was tearing him apart. His father’s arms embraced him, cupping the back of his head and tucking him under his chin, in a way that any child would want to be held.

Once his time at the hospital had passed, his mind only consumed with thoughts of Roy, he’d sat through his first session with a psychiatrist. It was a tall, blond woman - she seemed nice, but Leo couldn’t focus on that when all he could think was how much he wanted to leave.

“Did you have a sexual relationship with Mr Gatlin, Leo?” She had asked gently, like the words hadn’t made his stomach twist with dread. His eyes were focused on the glass table in front of them, like maybe if he stared at it for long enough, he would see Roy’s face in the reflection instead of the psychiatrist.

Leo’s foot tapped anxiously. “Yes.”

He’d wanted to lie, but what was the point? It felt like she could see right through him. The sessions were one of the most uncomfortable things he had ever had to experience. The anxiousness, the embarrassment, the idea of spilling his darkest secrets and thoughts to a complete stranger in the lonesome room.

He imagined what it would be like if Roy was here, holding his hand to help him get through it.

“But why would he have sex with me if he didn’t love me?” Leo softly breathed towards the end of the session, his eyes gleaming with pain. He rubbed his thumb against the scars on his wrist, refusing to meet her eyes. They were too sharp, too imposing, like she could read every thought in his little head.

“You experienced life changing traumas during your captivity, Leo,” the psychiatrist offered. He squeezed his eyes shut. “Mr Gatlin expressed qualities your mind was tricked into thinking was genuine kindness. He took advantage of your vulnerability. Your need for that physical affection.”

Her lips curved slightly.

“Have you always believed that sex is a romantic gesture?”

Leo nodded his head slowly. “Why would someone do that if they didn’t love them? Why would they bother?”

“A lot of people separate their sexual needs from their romantic ones. It’s a blurry line, but there is a line, Leo.”

“He told me he loved me,” he sniffled, pressing his hands into his face. He could feel himself shaking. “He, He said that he...”

“Mr Gatlin kidnapped and tortured you,” she softly spoke, slowly pushing the box of tissues closer towards him. She settled back in her chair with a sigh. “Do you really think someone like that is capable of truly loving you?”

Leo let out a quiet sob. Everyone was telling him that he didn’t love him - that these feelings were born out of necessity and trauma, that his isolated childhood was playing a part in his psyche. He ran his fingers through his hair.

“How frequently did you and Mr Gatlin have sex, Leo?”

He lifted his head, gently wiping away the tears. His heart squeezed a little. “Um, I suppose...often.”

“How long had this relationship been formed before you were separated?”

“I think...” He swallowed uneasily. “Not that long. I can’t really remember.”

The psychiatrist nodded her head. She was always incredibly patient with him, and that made it all the more easier. He frequently visited her during the court sessions, which he found himself avoiding, only until the day he had to testify.

He had kept his eyes downcast, despite seeing the man—he...loved? Thought he loved?—seated in his peripheral. He’d recited everything that had happened, answered the questions, and left. Sharpe had given him a lift, though it wasn’t easy to hear his and Summers conversation while he stared out of the window.

“We’ll win this case,” Summers had said, and yet Sharpe had let out a sharp tut.

“Yeah, that’s if his uncle doesn’t have the judge or the even damn jury in his backpocket.”

“Not with the kid in the car.”

Sharpe had always kept in touch over the months. Asked him how he was doing, how he felt about the psychiatrist – he came round for dinner sometimes, and his father seemed more than happy to cook. Leo sometimes found himself smiling and laughing along with them, but other times, he would be picking at his food with only one person on his mind.

Later, Roy was found guilty.

His father had hugged him and sobbed hysterically, thanking everybody out there and keeping him so close. Leo had cried too, but not for the same reason.

The mercenary was never truly off his mind. Even if it was easier to go about his day without being consumed by him every waking hour, he was still there. Somewhere.

Whispering sweet nothings in his ear.

Holding him close.

Having sex with him and telling him he loved him at the same time.

Leo was curled up in bed, late at night, when he heard his father’s phone ring. He hadn’t been able to sleep well, and carefully listened into the muffled conversation from his comfortable position.

“Oh, Detective,” his father greeted, his voice melting into warmth and excitement. Leo’s ears perked up. He wondered why he was calling so late at night. “Are you—?”

His father was abruptly cut off. Faintly, during the silence, Leo’s blood spiked with anticipation.

“Bail—?” His father all but cried, and he could sense the crushing despair in his voice. “But it was so high!”

Leo’s heart rate began to pick up. Bail? They could only be talking about Roy. The bail had been expensive, so expensive it would have been impossible for someone, even of the uncle’s stature, to pay it off. How? How so quickly?

Leo heard a thundering crashing noise, and suddenly, he was leaping out of bed in fear. He rushed out of his room and into the corridor, the sight of his father’s limp body sprawled along the floor making him almost scream.

“Dad!” He called out, collapsing to his knees beside him in horror to find blood pooling around his head. Tears stabbed his eyes. “No, no, no, no, please.”

His fingers gripped his shirt desperately, the panicked thoughts going haywire in his mind. He could feel the static consuming his hearing, making it all fuzzy and incomprehensible as he squeezed his eyes shut, all those horrible memories crashing into him.

“He’s not dead,” came a firm voice, and Leo’s head snapped up to meet the smiling face of Roy. It was a cold smile. “Still breathing.”

The secretary made a dash, but as always, as it had been since day one, Roy was quicker.

Fingers tightened in his hair and slammed his face into the wall, a gutteral groan tearing from his throat when stars erupted in his vision. The gloved hand kept him there, hearing a sharp sigh from Roy.

“I’m so fucking disappointed, lion.”

The tears streamed down his face. It felt like his knees were going to give out on him.

“The worst part, is that I’m absolutely livid, too,” he hissed, and God, Leo had never heard anger dripping off Roy’s words like this. The worst part, was that they both knew he was holding himself back.

“I really thought you were smart,” he hummed, pressing his face harder into the wall. Leo let out a pained sob, his breathing picking up. “I leave you alone for forty-eight hours, and they manage to get into that little head of yours.”

Roy jerks his head back, spinning him around so that he’s facing him. His knees can barely even support his own weight, staring at the face he’d failed to get out of his own head.

“I’m sorry,” he sobbed, choking on a breath. “I’m so, so sorry—”

“You’re sorry now?” Roy snapped, his lip curled into a snarl. “You’re a fucking mess. Look at you. This could have even easy, but you’ve only gone and made this way harder than it has to be.”

The mercenary sighed sharply, his eyes flickering over to his father’s unmoving body. They softened, just a fraction.

“New names, new identity,” he hummed, tilting his head. “Shame. I like you as a blond.”

Leo sucked in a gasping breath. The grip on his hair was absolutely unrelenting, and he hadn’t eased up for even a second. He tried to open his mouth to speak, but the mercenary just gave him a violent shake, and it died on his tongue. An unspoken I love you, even after everything. Leo wondered if it was real or because he was scared.

“I’m so mad,” he reiterated, his jaw clenched as those fiery eyes bore into his own. “I could break both your legs and make you crawl after me. But you know what? I’m not going to do that. I’m not going to hurt you, lion. I’m going to do something much, much worse.”

The hand violently pushed him down to his knees, and Leo sucked in a hyperventilating breath. He looked up in horror when Roy started to unbuckle his belt.

“My uncle’s waiting for us both in the car,” Roy told him sharply, and his stomach twisted in dread at the word ‘us’. Us. He desperately shook his head.

“Roy, please—”

A harsh slap shut him up, and the hand returned to his hair as he started working his zipper down.

“Like I said, he’s waiting for us,” he growled, his eyes narrowed into vicious slits. “So that mouth better work quickly and give me a different kind of apology.”

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[redeclipse27]

Let’s talk about Toxic people, their traits, and how to avoid them

What are some traits of toxic people?

1. Large amounts of apathy (they don’t feel remorse for what they’ve done until it hurts THEM)

2. Projecting, they often rely on this to avoid accountability for their actions

3. Manipulative and controlling, toxic people LOVE to take things out of context, cherry pick information, or exaggerate things to make themselves look like hero’s, victims, ect. They also love to control what other people see about them, and may threaten those that criticize them. They also love to control their partners, family, ect and what they do and see

4. Lack of accountability, these people NEVER admit to bad stuff or give genuine apologies, they may say things like “It’s not my fault [bad thing they caused] happened! It’s [other person’s] for [insert stupid or hypocritical reason]”

5. They also use conflict to get validation-they’ll start stupid arguments/fights, just so they can “win” them to feel good about themselves

6. Toxic people CANNOT take any kind of criticism, and will attack or send their followers after anyone who criticizes them.

7. They also tend to develop different personality complexes, some of which are:

God complex- believe they’re always right and better than everyone (as if they’re a god, hence the name) they act like they have authority over everything and everyone

Inferiority complex-feels inferior on the inside and use aggression and fake confidence to hide it

Superiority complex- they look down on everyone, they brag and belittle others since they think they’re better than everyone

Persecution complex-they may feel like everyone’s out to get them and constantly victimize. They express this by attacking people they perceive as enemies or people that they think are against them.

Hero complex- they see themselves as a hero or protector that needs to be a savior to everyone, they may intentionally cause problems and then “fix” them to look like heros, this is actually common with ex first responders or current first responders, such as firefighters committing arson and then putting it out to look like good guys. (Mentioned in criminal minds ironically s3 e9) this is also common in news reporters or people that run “news” or “exposer” accounts on social media

Attention seeking complex-they constantly crave and want attention, and will do anything to get it, such as starting drama to keep eyes on them. A lot of politicians, influencers, and news reporters do this, in real life and on social media

8. They use other people. They may see someone else’s unfortunate situation and use it to get them attention and popularity.

Where does toxic behavior stem from?

A lot of places, insecurity, bad home life, sometimes even personality disorders (which often can be treated to help people overcome this, not every person with narcissistic personality disorder is an emotionless psycho like you see on TV). No matter what, don’t try to hurt a toxic person back. You don’t know what someone else is going through, instead deal with it calmly and maturely so they can get help.

How do you take down a toxic person?

Don’t give them attention for one, and 2, don’t let them get to you, that’s what they want. Half the time you’re better off walking away. If someone’s trying to hurt you, document EVERY SINGLE THING, then give it to someone that can help deal with it.

What do I do if someone close to me is toxic?

Well the first thing you can do, is communicate. Let them know they’re hurting you. If they offer to do better, problem solved! If not, you may have to cut them out of your life. The second thing you can do is advise someone who’s being problematic to see a professional like a therapist or psychiatrist, toxic behavior is often a sign of something else lying underneath, and that could fix the root of the problem

That’s uh…that’s about it

[sl-newsie]

Behind Masks (Dr. Jonathon Crane x OC) Ch. 1: Introductions

“You can’t keep me here! I demand a lawyer! I am an associate of the Hell’s Gate Psychiatric Institution and will not tolerate this denial of justice!”

The security guard bangs his baton against the bars again. “Quiet, Prentiss! You’re lucky you get your own cell. Or would you rather have to share?”

My gaze throws daggers. “I’ll have you know that I am perfectly sane and do not belong in this asylum. I will not cooperate until I speak to a lawyer.”

“That’s too bad,” the guard taunts. “‘Cause I got strict orders not to allow you any visitors.”

I gawk at his idiotic face. “On whose authority?”

“You’ll meet him once his current session is over,” he says as he walks down the hall away from my cell. "I think it’s with Croc if I’m not mistaken.”

Croc? As in Killer Croc? God, why didn’t I just play the game? Why did I have to go beyond my jurisdiction? I already knew Gotham was a rigged and twisted system the second I got here. I’ve gone from a respected psychiatrist to the very type of person I’m supposed to be above. Now all I have to my name is an orange jumpsuit, a pair of cheap sneakers, a toothbrush, and a small copy of the Bible. 

How long have I been waiting? There’s no clock, no windows. No clue to anything happening outside. All I see are beige hallways spanned into a webbed labyrinth that’s meant to keep patients from escaping. Keep me from escaping.

Thud-thud. Thud-thud.

Muffled footsteps echo down through the hall, potentially signaling my approaching contact. At first my heart soars at the hope of finally talking to someone in authority who can get me out; yet as the footsteps grow louder there’s something about them that sends a chill down my spine. It can’t be him. God, I hope it’s not him-

It’s him.

I’ve heard rumors of the dark secrets that go on at Arkham. Crackheads slicing open arteries, schizophrenics keeping doctors up for days on end. One that always highlights itself above the rest is the Scarecrow. And he just opened my cell door.

What I notice first is the eyes. Cold, icy-blue eyes so full of curiosity yet still impassive. Those cold and calculating eyes stare straight through and scan me. It’s a silent battle of how hard his stare can press until I break. I also see how he’s managed to keep his job. One might say he’s handsome but I know better. Just because you were a clean suit does not mean your soul is spotless. He may be able to charm his way into Arkham but I’ll never give in.

“Good afternoon, Ms…?”

The voice doesn’t help either. He does it well. Calm, soft, and smooth. Typical therapist nonsense I see in my line of work every day. Let’s see if I can win this game.

“You should have access to my file, sir. Introductions should not be necessary.”

The man’s eyebrows raise in response to my equally calm tone. Keep the voice calm, keep the eyes alert. I need to discreetly establish dominance in this conversation in order to gain leverage.

“I do have your file. But I prefer personal introductions with my patients.” The man sets a briefcase on the nearby table and takes a seat, then gestures for me to join him. “No need to hide. I’m here to help.”

Straight to the point I see. No use trying to beat around the bush. I step away from the corner I’m leaning against but refuse to sit down.

“There was a mistake.”

The man frowns and pulls out a pad to start taking notes. “What do you mean?”

He wants me to talk, so I will. “I mean I’m not supposed to be here. Someone paid off the judge to have me locked up, and the judge has had it out for me ever since I dug up his affair with the mayor’s wife.”

This intrigues the therapist as he jots down more notes, still looking up to keep his eyes piercing into me. “Are you a reporter?”

“Far from it. I am- was a psychiatrist in Metropolis. I was called to Gotham to help the mayor’s son. No one else was willing to work here.”

“And you are?” He asks with slight surprise though he tries to hide it.

“Metropolis can only take my curiosity so far,” I mutter. “Gotham is unique.”

More scribbling. I must say he’s much more organized than other professionals I’ve worked with. All the more reason to be concerned with the outcome of this conversation.

“I’m going to ask you some questions to start forming your profile.” Crane turns over an hourglass and clicks his pen open.

Basic protocol. There’s no way I’m giving him everything. Thankfully I’ve learned to avoid the telltale signs of lying.

“Full name?”

“Calico Marie Prentiss.”

“Pretty. Family name, I presume?”

Trying to soften me up and dig into my family history. “My father likes unique names, my mother prefers traditional ones. So they compromised.” Use present tense.

“How is your relationship with your family?” the man asks softly.

He has my family history. My job required me to keep an updated profile on personal matters to validate my own mental health. In other words just an excuse for the bored guys at the top to snoop.

“Currently undecided.” They’re dead. What else am I supposed to say?

“Ms. Prentiss, your parents-”

“With all due respect, sir, can we move things along and save that topic for later?” Just get to the part when I can get out of here!

My stern request doesn’t seem to faze the man. “Do you have supportive people in your life?”

Trying to bring me down by addressing empathy links. “People, no. I have other methods of support. And before you ask, I have never done drugs.”

He nods. “Current relationship status?”

This trips my mind a bit. Must be a new questionnaire protocol? 

“Single,” I enunciate in a cold voice.

“Interesting…” More scribbling. Jesus, is he writing a book about me? “Normally people like you are either engaged, married, or divorced. Very rarely do I see any single psychiatrists. Attractive, smart, rich. Very appealing characteristics for a relationship, don’t you think?”

Hm. He asked a question that isn’t based on my profile. Is this for genuine curiosity or a topic of interest for him? After a few seconds of silence go by he continues.

“Your toxicology screening came back clean, as you mentioned before. How many partners have you encountered?”

The question rings in my ear and for an instant my mask slips, but I’m quick to recover.

“None.”

Once again the therapist is surprised. “Catholic, are we?”

“I have my morals. I’m too busy to be worrying about sex, sir. My job comes first.”

More scribbling. God, how much longer?

“Are you having suicidal thoughts right now, or have you had suicidal thoughts within the past month?”

If this questioning goes any longer I may consider it.

“No.”

“Are you having homicidal thoughts, or have you had homicidal thoughts in the past month?”

“Never.”

“How do you cope with stress?”

“Exercise and hard rock. You should try it sometime.” I’m starting to lose my patience and I have to take a slow breath. This is just what he wants. Calm down.

The man hums. “What are some of your strengths?”

“I’m punctual and have a traditional mindset. This tends to drive away disagreeing parties, which is why I’m here.” I step closer and place my hands on the table to face him directly. “You are a head staff member here whether it’s morally correct or not. All I ask is to please allow me to speak to a lawyer, or at least a transfer to Gotham Penitentiary. I am not insane.”

“Morally correct…” he lingers on the thought and tilts his head. “Why would you say that, Ms. Prentiss?”

Just as I thought before, no use beating around the bush.

“I know who you are. Jonathan Crane, a former professor of psychology who’s obsessed with fear. Now you work here experimenting on patients behind the warden’s back.”

Crane’s eyes spark at the mention of fear. Must be a trigger word, perhaps for old memories. “Are you sure you’re not a reporter?” he asks, still in the same soft tone.

I shake my head. “Just a woman who’s not afraid to step on any toes.”

“Ah.” Crane stands up slowly and rummages through his briefcase. After tucking away his notes he looks up with a look that makes my blood run cold. 

“Would you like to see my mask?”

[kaylee12356]

House Visit: Pt 1

Summary: After many missed sessions with Dr. Lector, he grows suspicious. At first he thought it was nothing, thinking maybe you were busy and life had just gotten in the way. But what will be said when he shows up at your door looking for answers?

Hannibal sat at his desk with a pen in his hand, looking down at his schedule for the day. He hummed at the sight of your name on his calendar and the time you were supposed to arrive. Up until a month ago you were always on time, you never missed a session. But lately something was off. You hardly returned his calls to reschedule and when you did reschedule you never showed. Normally any amount of cancellations wouldn’t bother him but with you, it did. He found it odd how one of his patients, his favorite, suddenly stopped coming.

Per usual, Hannibal waited for your arrival but was once again disappointed when you didn’t show. All the other times he gave you the benefit of the doubt, but this time that wasn’t the case. When his last patient left he gathered his belongings and left. Normally he’d go home but today he had something, more like someone on his mind that made him choose not to go his normal route. If you wouldn’t come to him for your sessions, he was going to bring them to you.

While Hannibal made his way to your home, you on the other hand were sitting in your living room with nothing on but a robe. You looked down at your phone and sighed, the reminder about your session with Dr. Lector still in your notifications. You almost felt bad for missing as many sessions as you have, especially without a word—but, there was a reason. The reason was one you surely didn’t want to admit to him, or even yourself. Lately you’ve contemplated telling him that you’d no longer need him as your psychiatrist but that wasn’t entirely true. It wasn’t that you needed him per se, you just didn’t want to stop seeing him.

Hannibal was an amazing psychiatrist who has been such a help to you overtime, almost six months. But there was something you hadn’t told him, something that made you want to see him for all the wrong reasons. So, you thought it would be best to distance yourself until you got enough courage to tell him what was really going on—if you ever decided to. You were just about to call it a night and get into bed, that was until you saw headlights outside your window. Turning off the TV, you stood up from your couch and walked to the front door. You weren’t the most social person so it was extremely odd for someone to be showing up at your house unannounced, especially at this time of night.

When you opened your door you were shocked at the sight. You could have slammed the door and hid out of embarrassment. What the hell was he doing here? It wasn’t that you weren’t happy to see Dr. Lector, you definitely were, it was just that you weren’t prepared.

“Dr. Lector, w-what are you doing here?” You opened up the door further, hoping the darkness from the night would hide your rosy cheeks. “If you won’t come to me, I’ll come to you,“ he stopped at the door, looking at you with a soft smile. “May I come in?” You nodded and stepped aside. “So..” Hannibal turned to you. “Why haven’t you been attending our sessions? Did I do something wrong, darling?”

The nickname caught you off guard as soon as it fell from his perfect lips. Hannibal watched as you made your way back to your living room, he slowly followed behind you almost like a predator stalking their prey. “Reasons..” you said softly as you sat down on your couch. Hannibal did the same, sitting beside you with his body turned towards yours. “Yes, I suppose there are reasons for everything. But what I want to know is why.” You could tell Hannibal was genuinely curious but you didn’t know why. Normally if you stopped attending sessions with any other psychiatrist or therapist that would be the end of it, nothing more. So why was he being so persistent?

Because you knew it was only the right thing to do, you decided to bite the bullet and tell him. “Well, I feel that you can’t help me-” his expression didn’t change in the slightest, only his gaze sharpened at your words. “And it’s not because of your abilities as a psychiatrist, not at all. It’s because I find it hard to focus on getting better when all I can really focus on is you.” You finished, hoping he would understand where you’re coming from.

At first he was completely still, not giving anything away as to what was going through his mind. “I already knew,” Hannibal gently placed his hand on your knee. “I’ve known for quite some time now. But, I believe I could still be of help to you, Y/N. I could help you in many ways if you’d allow me to.” Hannibal’s tone lowered as he spoke those last words. You looked down at his hand that was placed on your knee and then back into his eyes. You weren’t sure but it seemed like he wasn’t talking about therapy anymore.

His tone, the feeling of his large hand on your knee, the look in his eyes—it was almost too much for you. Why did he have to be so gorgeous all the time? “I’d like that. I want your help.” You nodded and placed your hand on his. Hannibal smiled and stood up from his spot on the couch. “Good..” He stood in front of you and reached for your cheek. He ran his thumb over your bottom lip softly, looking down at you with a smirk. He was tempted to push deeper and press his thumb past your lips but he didn’t. Instead, he pulled away before things could go any further. If he acted on his temptations, he wouldn’t be going home anytime soon. Instead, you’d be bent over your couch with your hands held behind your back with his cock shoved deep inside you. As much as he wanted that, he felt that it was more appropriate to wait.

“Whenever you’re ready, call me.” Hannibal made his way to the door, your footsteps following closely behind him. “I’ll be waiting.”

[anemptypuddingcup]

Just a little update on Mari.

I’m doing alright at least better than I was before and I’m learning to limit myself on social media as well. Tumblr ain’t included, it motivates my hobby for writing sm! I’ve also gotten myself a therapist for the very first time in my life because my doctors insisted that I’d make an appointment with a new psychiatrist they’ve met. They said she’s so nice and really good at her job so I agreed even though I was very skeptical. I was skeptical just because of nervousness since I’ve never had a therapist ever in my life to vent to and talk to about my problems. I’m still kinda nervous now-

They recommended I speak with her since they’ve noticed that I wasn’t acting like my cheery self like usual. That wasn’t only because my Sickle Cell was acting up at the time and still is now but because they saw that it was deeper than just the physical pain I was experiencing. They made me do a depression and anxiety chart and since my levels were high, they recommended that I spoke with her…

Mental and physical stress had caused my body to start aching really bad recently. My lower back has been hurting for the past week and a half and I honestly may result to going to the hospital if it continues. Pain meds help yes…but once they wear off the pain comes right on back and continues to be bothersome.

I’ve been stressing myself out due to personal issues that I’m still currently dealing with alongside college work which I’ve been slacking on due to my pain. Though I can do better, my pain isn’t an excuse to back down and stop or slow down.

One final thing to mention is that I’ve kinda been starving myself and that with a mix of a small appetite causes me to not eat at all or eat once a day…I actually found out that starving yourself is a form of self harm- It’s a bit of a habit when I’m going through Sickle Cell pain though…I don’t like eating when I’m in pain and since I haven’t been having an appetite either I’ve kinda slowed down on forcing myself to eat…

Why am I telling y’all all of this? Because as your fellows writer who provides content for you guys, I feel like it’s only right if I let you know how I’m doing. Especially since you guys have been waiting on me to finish your requests and other events that were supposed to be done months ago.

Alongside taht, I keep goddamn sidetracking myself with extra things instead of focusing on things that needs to be done. Sorry about that, I have so many ideas and shit that I wanna write so I won’t forget em. That fucks shit up too though-

I apologize if all this waiting has irritated you…I’m genuinely trying my best to write and get myself straight on top of it. Just know that I love you all and I’m grateful to have you all here with me during these stressful times!

Anyways, back to the writing! I have something special coming out soon. It’s been in the works for a few months now and I’m ready to get it out.

[ancientcraftnoccultism]

Beginner Class - Shadow Work 101

Ancient Craft & Occultism

Shadow Work 101

___

By KB

Introduction

Hello again, everyone! Welcome back to class ♡ Now that we've gone over in more detail about our personal energy - let's discuss something that is often forced upon beginner's, especially within New Age circles. You guessed it, shadow work. First and foremost, shadow work is not mandatory in order for you to be a practitioner or a witch. Let's take a closer look into this term.

What Is Shadow Work?

In essence, shadow work is a type of emotional therapy. Traumatic events in our lives inevitably leave us with emotional scars. As a result, we frequently try to repress these feelings since they make us feel uneasy, apprehensive, and panicked. Every time these emotions are provoked, we push them to the back of our minds as a type of emotional self-defense. The issue with this coping method is that by keeping our trauma hidden, we are not healing from it; instead, it simmers inside of us and will eventually appear physically. Numerous things, such as physical disease, worry, panic attacks, mental illnesses, and self-harm, might manifest this.

The term "shadow" was initially used by Swiss psychiatrist Carl Jung to refer to those facets of our personalities that we actively choose to suppress and reject. We all have aspects of ourselves that we don't like for various reasons, or that we believe society won't like, so we push those aspects down into our unconscious psyches. Jung referred to this group of suppressed facets of our personality as our shadow self.

“The shadow is a moral problem that challenges the whole ego-personality, for no one can become conscious of the shadow without considerable moral effort. To become conscious of it involves recognizing the dark aspects of the personality as present and real. This act is the essential condition for any kind of self-knowledge.” - Carl Jung 1951

What Is The Shadow?

The shadow is made up of everything we reject about ourselves, including everything we consider to be bad, evil, or unacceptable. This dark side is everything that conflicts with our conscious attitude that we have decided about ourselves. The disowned self is the individual shadow. This shadow self stands in for the aspects of ourselves that we no longer identify as being our own, including our innate virtues.

These unexplored or rejected facets of our personalities remain. We try to cast them out by denying them, but we are unable to do so. They are a part of our unconscious that we suppress. Consider whatever we are not aware of as belonging to our unconscious. The shadow won't go away. It remains with us as our dark sibling. When we fail to recognize it, trouble results. For sure, it is standing just behind us at that point.

Every young child is aware of compassion, kindness, and love, but he also exhibits rage, egotism, and avarice. These feelings are a component of our common humanity. But something changes as we mature. The characteristics of "being good" are accepted, whilst the characteristics of "being bad" are disapproved of. All humans have fundamental necessities. These needs include those for physical well-being, security and safety, and belonging. These innate and biological demands must be met.

When we were kids, our surroundings gave us cues when we displayed certain aspects of ourselves. Perhaps we had a tantrum out of rage. After the incident, our parents chastised us and sent us to our room. Or perhaps in our first-grade classroom, we were brave, lively, impromptu, or silly. In front of the class, our teacher called us to task for acting impolitely and ordered us to sit down. Every time that happened—and it may have happened frequently—it put one of our fundamental requirements in danger. We learned to adapt to the outside world and changed our conduct to suit our needs. In the first 20 years of our lives, all of the aspects of us that have been rejected or discouraged are collected and hidden.

Can I Just Ignore My Shadow?

Sure, you can, but only at your own risk. I’m sure you’re familiar with the story of Dr. Jeckell & Mr. Hyde… not only that, it causes our perception of reality to be distorted. We recognize in others the qualities we reject in ourselves. Psychologists refer to this as projection. Everything we buried within us, we project onto others. It's a safe probability that you haven't acknowledged your own rudeness if, for instance, you become annoyed when someone is disrespectful to you. This does not imply that they are not being impolite to you. But you wouldn't mind someone else being rude as much if rudeness wasn't in your shadow self.

This procedure doesn't involve conscious thought. Our predictions are unknown to us. This defense mechanism is used by our egos to protect how they see themselves. We are prevented from engaging with our shadow by our false identities as "good" people. These psychological projections skew reality, separating how we perceive ourselves from how we act in the world.

Benefits of Shadow Work

Who appreciates being honest about their flaws, weaknesses, selfishness, nasty behavior, hatred, etc.? It is more pleasurable and affirming to concentrate on our strengths. However, exploring our shadow side offers us a ton of chances for improvement. Let's look at a few ways that this work can be useful to us.

Better Personal Relationships

You have a clearer understanding of yourself when you embrace your darker side and come to terms with it. You develop into a more solid, complete person. It is simpler to tolerate the shadow in people when you can accept your own darker sides. As a result, you won't be as easily triggered by other people's actions. You'll also find it simpler to interact with other people.

Clear Perception

You'll have a clearer lens through which to perceive the world if you accept everyone as they are, including yourself. You're becoming closer to your actual self as you integrate your shadow self, which helps you make a more accurate judgment of who you are. You won't think of yourself as being excessively large or little. You can more effectively gauge your environment when you are self-aware.

Better Health

It is exhausting to drag this unseen bag of things behind us. Repressing and suppressing all the aspects of ourselves that we don't want to confront as adults is tough effort. The unstudied life can be plagued with fatigue and sluggishness. Physical discomfort and disease can also result from mental suppression. With Jungian shadow work, you can unknowingly release a huge reserve of energy that you were using to defend yourself. Your physical, mental, and emotional well-being can all be enhanced by this. You can become more balanced and develop inner strength through shadow work, which will prepare you for life's obstacles.

Unleash Creativity

Jungian shadow work enhances your creative potential, which is one of its major advantages. According to psychologists like Abraham Maslow and Carl Rogers, creativity occurs spontaneously in those who are psychologically well (integrated).

Tips for Beginning

Shadow work can be very intimidating for a lot of us. We don't want to have to reopen old wounds in order to allow then to heal properly. However, there are some ways to make this process a bit easier.

Centering Yourself

Perhaps the most crucial action to take before beginning a shadow job is this. Yet, working with the shadow is seldom ever acknowledged in literature. You won't get useful results if you try to understand your shadow self while you're not grounded in your Self. The shadow stands for a collection of numerous elements that are concealed within your psyche. You can only learn about these areas by starting from your center. One of these components will take control of the process if it is "blended" with you. You'll be judgmental, harsh, or perplexed. Your capacity to integrate your shadow will be hampered by this. Be a peaceful, clear, and neutral area before you start working with your shadow.

Be Kind To Yourself

It is beneficial to develop an unconditional sense of friendship with oneself before getting to know your shadow. Its name in Buddhism is Maitri. To examine our darker aspects requires friendship and self-compassion, which can be challenging. It is challenging to face your shadow if you are harsh on yourself when you err. If you frequently experience guilt or shame, you must learn to transform these feelings into friendliness, self-acceptance, and self-compassion. Begin by acknowledging your own humanity. Keep in mind that we are all shadows in each other's soup, as Jung used to say.

Be Courageous & Honest

Shadow work requires integrity and self-honesty. It's simple to give lip service to these virtues, but real self-honesty requires being open to recognizing our negative traits in our actions and personalities. The ego spends a lot of energy suppressing your disowned portions since it is frequently uncomfortable to do so. It can be difficult to acknowledge and embrace your oppressive bad aspects and insecure selfishness. It takes bravery to examine your attitudes, behaviors, troubled ideas, and negative feelings.

Keep a Record

The desire of some of our disowned portions to remain hidden from view fascinates me. Our disowned portions can elude us, much like how a dream might vanish from memory right after you wake up. A cure is to keep a writing notebook where you can chronicle your self-discoveries. It is easier to encode the discovery into your awareness when you write down your insights and review them afterwards.

Beginning Shadow Work

Discover False Beliefs

We typically aren't aware that we are suppressing anything when we learn to hide some aspects of ourselves from others in order to please our parents, blend in with our friends, or perform well in school. We simply believe that we are being nice, useful humans. Then something sets us off.

Honor Your Feelings

Your emotions serve as a warning system for any subconsciously held resistance, myths, or emotional scars. It's critical to identify these emotions because, like to your automobile issue, subconscious problems may prevent spells from working. Never suppress your feelings or blame yourself for having them. That will simply deepen your emotional traumas and erroneous notions in your subconscious and make you feel worse.

Heal

Your pain can be healed now that you've found its source. Don't forget that the goal isn't to control your emotions. Your feelings are your subconscious trying to tell you something, and these messages are important! Changing your tale to something more positive can allow you to manage your reactions.

[positivelyadhd]

I know I've been very inconsistent with this blog and I miss it dearly but I have a little positive update I thought I would post mostly to remind myself that things can change and do get better!!

I will leave details and little rant about my frustrations with mental health systems in the UK under the cut but this is mostly to remind you all that there is always people that can and want to help you. it's infuriating how difficult it can be to find those people, but I promise they are there. you deserve to give yourself the chance to find them.

I have been down a long frustrating road of not being able to get mental health support for years (mostly due to lack of funding ect for public services which is a much bigger issue nationally and I am endlessly angry about it and would love to Do Something and maybe when I'm doing better mentally I can do more activism or something!)

it's the same thing I hear a lot of people say on here and elsewhere but I felt like no one was really listening to me or understanding and that i couldn't talk to the people that would? I felt really lost and knew I needed help but when I asked the people I thought would be able to help (doctors, schools, uni ect) they told me they couldn't do anything. (more on that later)

but, after a lot of looking I have finally found some people that are really helping!! for the first time in a while I'm feeling so much better <33

I found a local charity that helped me figure out where to go when doctors have not been able to help and a therapist that specialises in EMDR (which has been so helpful, I was skeptical at first but it's so done so much in just a few sessions <33)

I've also now got an appointment with a psychiatrist with experience with ADHD so I can hopefully get a mental health assessment since I haven't had one in years! I know the non ADHD medication I'm currently taking isn't working for me and it hasn't for a few years but I couldn't find anyone that was able to talk to me about it and now I feel like I (hopefully) have!

I don't want to discourage anyone that may be reading this from looking for support or asking for help. The point of this little ramble is that it's always worth it. But unfortunately it is quite often a lot more difficult than it should be.

I cannot find words to really express how fucked up and angry that makes me and it can be so difficult to find them, but I promise that for everyone that is shitty, there is people that are trying their hardest and want to hear you and help you. that it's always worth holding on until you find them.

I also want to remind you that you have every right to feel angry and sad and helpless about it, that part of recovery is allowing yourself to feel all of the "ugly" emotions that come with having experienced the things you experienced. that there is no such thing as good or bad emotions and that just allowing yourself to feel how you feel and process it can do so much in recovery.

but I'm also so so grateful for this community and seeing where the world is going with neurodivergent awareness and activism now is giving me so much hope!

if you are reading this and you've had the experience I've had, where the systems that should've been able to support you weren't able to, for whatever reason. I want you to know that it's not your fault. that you deserve a loving caring support system around you and that there is one waiting for you. I am so sorry you have had to experience this, but as frustrating as it can be to hear you're also not alone in it. things can get better, and they are changing. and I know how hard it is to believe when everything else around you seems to tell you otherwise, but I hope you can give yourself the chance to find out.

[usfp-the-blog]

The Underground Society of Forbidden Powers

Hey there! I'm Achilles, and this is a blog dedicated to a story that's been rotting in my brain for the past 4-5 years: the USFP! I'll post character sheets, worldbuilding, lore, writing snippets; so on and so forth! I'll give a brief introduction of the story here:

The day of her final grade 10 exam, Iris comes home, planning to go to a bonfire with her friends, only to find her mother dead in a bathtub full of blood. Being incredibly close with her mother, this ruins her to the point where she can't stay in the house because of the unbelievable grief. Her and her father meet with a psychiatrist regularly, both together and separately, and they eventually come to the conclusion that they need to move, so they agree to move back to their birth country of Greece. They still have two pieces of property back home -- a house that they used as a "vacation home", and an abandoned bakery-cafe that Iris' mom always wanted to fix up and open. Iris opens the cafe as a therapeutic way of healing. The first person she hires is her childhood best friend, Orion, who moved back to the village a year before her from England due to reasons he refuses to go into. The story follows the two of them healing from their traumas and using their powers to discover more about the world around them.

Now, you may be wondering, Achilles, where the fuck are the superpowers? And the underground society?

Well.

In this world, most people have powers, and their powers are rated on a scale of 0-1000, 0 being useless, 1000 being like, reality-bending type stuff. Powers above 850 are considered "Forbidden", and with these powers, you either have to be sworn to the government or never use your powers. People above 850 can also be clearly identified by one of three methods: a streak in their hair, a "crater" (think 1970's vaccine), or a birthmark (think a cutie mark, but not as big and noticeable, and no set location). Powers are usually there at birth and manifest later in life, but they can sometimes be caused by Near Death Experiences (NDEs, from here-on out).

Iris can control light and its effects. This means she can change its colours, create small hallucinations and mirages, and give people cold burns (I like to think her light specifically feels cold).

Orion is a conjurer, which in and of itself isn't bad, and lands him at around a 320 on the power scale. However, he's also trying not to be discovered -- not because of the conjuration, but something else entirely. This caused him to move away from Brighton and back to his home town of Karyes, where he reconnects with Iris and they become close again.

The story is a slice of life/coming of age story with elements of action and mystery that pick up more in the second book. It's planned to be a duology, with the first book from Iris' perspective and the second from Orion's.

If you do want to read the story, this blog will contain major spoilers. You've been warned!

I find it hard to sit down and write sometimes, so it'll probably take me a while (especially because I'm in high school), but I hope you're up for the journey alongside me :] Enjoy my goofy little guys!

[agirlwithglam]

Hey, Vanilla!💕

I'm having a problem at school. I'm already in the final stretch of this school year and I have a bit of an idea what's going on. There was this guy in my class I was with for almost a month, and it was really intense, my feelings for him. Everything seemed perfect between us, but after a few weeks, he just seemed to want to run away from me. He'd say he liked me, but then say the problem was him, and it was clear he had emotional baggage. I tried talking to him about it, but it seemed like he didn't want to fix things; he always dodged me.

I could tell you many other things that happened, but I don't want to drag it out. Okay, so we drifted apart, but I always held onto the hope he'd come back and we'd work things out (I feel silly now for thinking that back then). Then, one day, he just showed up, dating another girl (found out through a friend). I felt uneasy when I heard, like I'd been used, just another conquest for him. But, even upset, I moved on.

But then on Monday, he started attending classes again (he rarely went due to work). I can't stand his presence; being around him makes me anxious, to the point my hands shake like I'm freezing all day. Honestly, all I feel when he's near is disgust. My friend gets mad at him because she knows what he did and how he still checks me out when I'm distracted (she keeps me posted). I try to ignore it, but can't focus on my tasks.

I've only shared this with one friend because I feel like she understands me best. I'm telling you this because I want to know how to deal with this situation. Transferring schools isn't an option since I'm almost done with the year, as I mentioned earlier, and switching classrooms isn't possible either (I spend the whole afternoon in the same classroom 😭 because, in Latin America, we don't have different classrooms and materials for each subject).

I don't want to talk to him because being near him makes me nauseous, and I've already tried that when we were closer. The worst part is how calm he seems, like he's unaffected; it makes me angry, and I feel like crying – I can't explain it. Please, help me out Vanilla 😓

(Sorry for my bad English 🥹)

hi princess 💓

ok first of all, i need you to realise and understand that you deserve better. you understand? this boy obviously has some problems which are HIS. its not your job to help or save him okay? especially if he's treating you like this.

also honey, cry. just let it out. let yourself get super upset and tear up papers. embrace this part of being a girl.

and also, distract yourself. i know he's in your class and it feels like he's just in your face, as if trying to flaunt the fact that "he doesn't care", but guess what? it's none of your business! whether he cares or not, ITS NONE OF YOUR BUSINESS.

what you need to do is put your head down and focus on your own life. your friends, family, health, mindset, grades, career, future, YOURSELF. okay?

also one more thing, heal. maybe theres a part of you that relates or something which makes you feel so angry and emotionally intense around him. idk, im not a therapist or psychiatrist or anything but it might help to speak to a professional or search something up on a trustworthy website.

also off topic but your english? its so good i felt like i was reading a literal story/ book.

i apologise it isnt a lot to go on but i figured that it would be better for me to at least give you something bc if i left it in my drafts im afraid i may not get to it in a whiiiiiiiile.

xoxo, vanilla <3 keep shining!