#something that has made me into a mere hysterical shell of my former self!

[dollsome-does-tumblr]

i wish i could convince myself to actually write a new novel project, i miss it so much. i haven't managed one since finishing mine from 2018 in 2020!!!!! why won't my novel-writing abilities return to meeee???? i need some fun & all-consuming work, damn it.

[worldwidemochiguy]

Hello! Can I have yandere bts reactions to you going insane? ♥️

thanks for requesting!! i hope you enjoy lol (also if u wanna be bias wrecked/just wrecked in general scroll down to the hobi gif bc hot damn)

Namjoon

Namjoon would be fascinated by the change in your psyche, affected after years of manipulation, coercion and isolation. There was nothing that interested him more than trying to figure you out, and now that you had a new level of complexity to your thoughts, it was a whole new challenge. Namjoon didn’t see you as a sick woman who needed help, he saw you as an experiment, and now that you had no chance of successfully escaping, you were all his to study, forever.

“Darling! How are you feeling today, hmm? … no response? Interesting. You responded yesterday. Maybe I should give you a little punishment, and then see if you will be more willing to greet me? Ah, now you respond. Very good, darling. Now come and give me a kiss.”

Jin

Jin never meant for it to go this far. Despite his cold, often harsh demeanour, Jin really did love you, or at least as close to love as was possible for him. He just wanted you to be perfect, like he knew you could be… little did he know, the constant criticism and degradation would push you over the edge. Now, you were just a mere shell of your former self, staring into the distance with an empty expression. Jin never knew how much he had loved the light in your eyes until he extinguished it. He continues to care for you even though you barely register his presence, as a twisted way to make amends for what he did to you.

“Good morning, baby. I missed you so much! But well done for managing to sleep through the night! You’re my perfect girl. I never told you that enough while you could hear me, but I’m telling you now, so please listen. Oh, Y/n, please, can you hear me? Y/n? Oh god, what did I do to you?”

Yoongi

Even though your sanity had departed you, and you could barely look at him long enough to recognise his face, blinded by the mad light that was forever present in your eyes, Yoongi still loved you like he had the day he saw you. Something as petty as sanity would never be allowed to come between the two of you. Yoongi became adept at caring for you during your hysterical episodes, removing all the knives from the house after an incident where you managed to stab him. He installed padding in all the rooms, unwilling to confine you to just one, after all, that was what practically caused this mess in the first place. You were always, first and foremost, Yoongi’s wife, and he refused to treat you as lesser.

“Aish, Princess, be careful with that knife. I know you didn’t mean to hurt me, it’s okay, I don’t mind, but you could injure yourself if you aren’t careful. C’mon princess, how about we go back to your special room and I give you some sleepy medicine, huh? Now, Princess, please don’t struggle, you know I hate to see you in pain.”

Hoseok

Once Hoseok finally realised your mind had been irrevocably changed, he saw no other option. It was all that bastard’s fault in the first place, your ex husband who had burst in with your former child in his arms, screaming that Hoseok had to release you because you had a ‘family’. Of course, Hoseok soon rectified that. He hadn’t realised that he had left your door unlocked, allowing you to wait in hiding and witness the death of your ex husband and child. You were quite squeamish, so it had sent you into a bit of a fuss. Unfortunately, nothing seemed to bring you out of it, and by the time Hoseok realised there was something seriously wrong with you mentally, you were too far gone to receive meaningful help. Hoseok could think of only one solution. He put a bullet through your damaged brain, watching your corpse wilt for a second before shoving the barrel of the gun in his own mouth and pulling the trigger.

“We need to start over, it will be better this way, Angel. I know you can’t really understand me right now, but that’s exactly why I’m doing this! I’ll find you in the next life, I promise. You will be mine again…”

Jimin

Jimin has not known a moments happiness since he opened that cell door only to see your blank face staring back at him, all awareness and individuality leached out of your expression, leaving behind an empty husk of what you once were. Jimin had left you in isolation for a little too long after he saw you talking to another man. You had deserved it! But, he felt regret flood him the moment he realised what these actions born of anger would cost him. No matter what he did, you didn’t respond. It was like you weren’t even alive. Jimin cried, pleaded, even promised to release you if you talked to him, but you didn’t bat an eyelash. The only benefit was that you no longer put up a fight to any of Jimin’s advances, but it all felt hollow when Jimin remembered he would never hear your laugh, or see your beautiful smile ever again. Not that you had smiled that much at him before, of course.

“Baby? Baby?! Oh no… nononono, PLEASE answer me! Baby? Don’t do this to me!! I’m sorry! I should never have left you alone for so long, but please, don’t do this to me! Come back to me!! I need you!”

Taehyung

The moment Taehyung saw that light in your eyes, the flicker of insanity behind your pupils that declared you were willing to do anything just for the sake of it, he smiled gleefully. It was like looking into a mirror. Finally, he had someone who understood how un-understandable he was, who would never try to contain him again. You were perfect for him, you kept his life interesting, he loved finding out new ways to intrigue you, from inspecting corpses, to playing with live rats and listening to them squeal, to simply watching fish swim about in a tank. You were so unpredictable, he loved it. He loved how unique the two of you were, a perfect mismatched pair. It was completely worth all the blood, sweat and tears it had taken to get you to that stage. Admittedly, the blood and tears were mostly yours, but still.

“Oh, Princess, what game have you been playing today? Uh oh, you’ve made a mess! Silly girl, do you want me to punish you? …Hmm, it seems you’re in one of your quiet moods again today, Princess. No worries, I’m sure I can make you scream for me eventually!”

Jungkook

To be honest, Jungkook didn’t really care that you had gone insane. If anything, it was just more convenient for him. You no longer tried to escape, you no longer tried to hurt yourself, you no longer lied and said you hated him. You just sat there vacantly, pretty and perfect, waiting for him to get home. He has to admit, he does miss your cute little squirming as you pretended to put up a fight when he tried to be intimate with you, just like he’d miss your pretty sobs as he pounded away inside you, claiming you and making you his. But, at the end of the day, you were Jungkook’s possession, something of his to use to satisfy himself, an ornament to sit still and pretty and ready for whenever Jungkook wanted you. Now that you were finally complacent, Jungkook wasn’t going to complain, especially given how beautiful your blank face looked as he came all over it.

“Fuck, baby, you’re mine. You’re so pretty and dumb, look at you, you can’t even speak. You need me. You can’t even say no, you’re so fucking stupid. But that’s okay, baby, because I’ll always take care of you so you won’t ever have to think at all.”

[mjsmum]

Cry me a river: the truth about the baby blues

When you first get pregnant, everyone warns you about the first trimester symptoms – the morning sickness, tiredness, sore boobs and so forth. What they don’t tell you is that further weird and wonderful things keep happening well into your third trimester, and that these alien experiences are a hint of the complete body takeover that seems to happen to you post-birth.

A hint of what’s to come 

In my final few weeks of pregnancy, I really struggled physically. Turning over in bed became a military operation, in which I had to hold onto my bump to prevent groin strain. Chronic insomnia meant I spent at least three hours on the sofa most nights watching Reggie Yates’ Extreme documentaries on Netflix, and chronic heartburn was a regular appearance after every snack or glass of my favourite fizzy water.

But what blindsided me even more was the emotional aspect of my third trimester. I suddenly found myself in tears on a daily basis – in the build up to Christmas, I couldn’t get through the first verse of Fairytale of New York on the radio without hot, salty droplets running down my face. And sometimes I would cry for absolutely no reason at all, unable to express exactly why my eyeballs appeared to be leaking.

What I didn’t know was that these emotional outbursts were mere practice runs for my first two weeks post-partum. 

If you do NCT or other birth preparation classes, they warn you that when your milk comes in on days 3-5, you may feel a bit emotional.

BIGGEST. UNDERSTATEMENT. EVER.

Sobbing an ocean 

Cry me a river seems somewhat underwhelming; in the first fortnight after Matilda’s birth, I sobbed an ocean.

It first hit me in hospital. After being bed-bound for my first night after delivery, day one of motherhood involved the nurses removing my catheter and helping me to my feet so I could take a much-needed shower. Standing under the hot water, I suddenly realised I was crying my eyes out, but I put it down to tiredness, soreness, and the general trauma of having just given birth.

However, rather than cleansing the soul, my shower cry simply opened the floodgates, and every day the tears seem to get longer, deeper and more overwhelming – particularly after we came home to start family life.

I cried over big things, like the pain and frustration of struggling to breastfeed. I cried over little things, like having to put the washing machine on three times a day to keep up with the mountainous pile of dirty clothes generated by our little person. I cried over stupid things, like the tale of a giraffe that couldn’t dance in one of Matilda’s story books. I cried for no fathomable reason at all.

Who is this snotty mess? 

I’m not one to shy away from expressing my emotions – quite the contrary – but I was shocked at the frequency and voracity of my tearful episodes in those first few days of motherhood. I’d like to think of myself as a tough cookie, but poor Jim became used to sitting on the sofa next to a snotting, wailing mess, who was often too hysterical to articulate what had brought about the latest episode of crying.

The emotions were so overwhelming that I kept having to lock myself in the toilet for a private cry, and on multiple days I cried myself to sleep – either in relief that the day had gone well, or commiseration that it had gone badly, fearful for what would happen tomorrow when we had to get up and do it all over again.

Lying there in the darkness, I felt like I had completely and utterly lost myself. Gone was the girl who could confidently pitch for 6-figure business accounts, or happily hold court at any social occasion. I was a foggy, sobby shell of my former self, emotionally drained and frightened of the prospect of 24 more hours in charge of a tiny person. In fact, at one point I felt so empty and disconnected that I started to google how quickly post-natal depression could set in.

Embracing the emotional tidal wave

Although those first few days were long and tough - really tough - there were three things that started to turn the sobbing situation around. The first was being told to switch from boob to bottle by the midwife, as I’ve discussed in my blog about breastfeeding. Suddenly an immense pressure had been lifted from my shoulders, and I could settle in for four hours of guilt-free sleep each night.

Secondly, I told some of the other NCT mums who had given birth shortly after me how I was feeling, and discovered they were also being drowned by a tsunami of post-natal emotion. Never have I been so relieved to realise that I wasn’t going insane, but that every other new mother around me had also been blindsided by the intensity of their emotions.

Finally, and most importantly, I rang my mum, sobbing down the phone that I was struggling and feeling alone. I’m very lucky that we live in the same town, and she was knocking on my door within 10 minutes to give me a big hug. She also reassured me that I was going through the ‘baby blues’ – something that all new mothers get – and I’d done well to get to day 7 before having a total meltdown, as most people hit the wall on day five.

That night of calling my mum felt like a real turning point for me; one in which I was truly able to embrace the menagerie of emotions battering my body, and just let them wash over me. I succumbed to the idea that maybe this was just how life was going to be from now on, and trying to hold them in wouldn’t help anyone.

Counting the cries in days, not hours 

However, like the stages of grief, accepting the sobbing snot-faced version of myself marked the beginning of a new chapter. I found myself making it through a whole 6 hours without crying, then 12, then 24, and before I knew it I had made it through most of the week with only a small tear or two shed along the way.

Now, almost three weeks into Matilda’s life, I am much stronger and more balanced – something I have reassuringly shared with the other NCT mums in my group who aren’t quite as far down the line as Matilda and I. 

There’s still the odd thing that catches me off guard, but most of my tears are saved for those moments when I look down at my baby and feel an overwhelming sense of pride and love. That first wave of darkness has passed.

From the pouty milk drunk face Matilda pulls when she slides away from the boob, to the way she waves her arms above her head when she’s sleeping, like a human cactus; the fact she always sneezes in pairs, just like her dad, and the utter contentment on her face when she snuggles into Jim’s chest after her night time bottle. I bloody love my baby, and I will never feel ashamed to have a happy cry about it.