#the appointment at the psychiatric went well

[bruiisedfawn]

[corvidae666]

turns out telling the psychiatrist that you have hallucinations during a family appointment gets you an angry mother and an impending script for antipsychotics. not a dpdr diagnosis. also apparently the hallucinations arent typically prt of that. interesting.

[pineconepie]

Platonic yandere doctor? Like he’s had his little for a while but he’s just fed up with them trying to leave so he uses a more permanent solution to the problem of them trying to run away (take that as you will)

I hope this is good!! Its slightly different than what you asked, but if people want I cand make a part two of them trying to escape!

TW: Platonic/parental yandere, drugging, gaslighting, kidnapping, infantilization, slight ableism(?), psychiatric wards

...

You've been seeing Dr. Warren as your doctor for... wow, how long has it been? Several years now. He's always been a kind guy, and sometimes he'd break past that overly polite, professional demeanor and let his soft spot for you shine through.

You liked that about him.

Sometimes, when there wasn't anybody in the waiting room but you two, he would kneel down to give you a little toy while you waited, usually one of those plastic eggs filled with surprise toys or jingling keys or something like that.

You always thought it was a little strange how the doctor was giving you children's toys, but you tried not to overthink it.

There were some other weird things you tried to overlook, but recently it was getting harder to do so.

Warren would always prescribe you medications for all kinds of things, and every single one of them made your mind feel numb. Like static, almost.

Your appointments became very regular, as well. At least once a week, even if nothing felt wrong.

And he'd give you a little plastic medicine bottle filled with gummy vitamins every time you went in.

You started to notice how instead of actually checking your health, he'd cuddle by your side and just ask how your day went, almost acting more like an over-caring therapist... which, he did technically have his degree in both psychology and medicine, but still, the lack of any medical care was suspicious, especially coming from the usually very professional doctor.

"Um, Doctor Warren?" you nervously ask, fiddling with the toy he gave you today, a little green caterpillar with bright colors on its back.

"Hm? What is it?" he asks while marking a few things off on his clipboard.

"Well, uh..." you swallow down a lump in your throat as you work up the courage to ask this. "I've noticed that our sessions lately haven't been productive. And the medications you give me make me worse. I wasn't even having a lot of issues until I started taking them. It's like they just make my mind foggy... and I always feel so sleepy, and my coordination is off..."

"Those are just the side effects," he reassures. "That's why I wanted you to come see me regularly; to track any changes or side effects."

"But I don't think the side effects are worth it. And these constant check-ups are annoying, no offense," you mutter.

"None taken," he says calmly. "The check-ups are for your benefit."

"Yeah, but..." You rub the nape of your neck. "I think I want to see a different doctor... if that's okay."

Suddenly, the warm aura radiating from him grows cold as the man glares at you, dark eyes sending a chill down your spine.

"Do you trust other doctors more than me?" His voice comes out icy, stinging you like cold water.

Your heart pounds. You open your mouth to speak, only to be interrupted again.

"(Y/n). You're mentally and physically ill. Your judgement is too clouded by your conditions that you can't recognize proper care. I'm trying to help you get better. Can't you see that?" He runs a hand through his hair. "You need constant monitoring, love. I'd consider yourself lucky I haven't put you in inpatient care." His expression changes, like a light bulb goes off in his head. "Actually, would you prefer that?"

"No, of course not!" you cry out. "Please don't-"

"Why shouldn't I? It's for your own safety," he says matter-of-factly. "You can't even tell what's good or bad for you. Your condition is worsening."

"Because of the medication," you retort.

"That's just the side effects. I explained this already."

"Why would medicine that's supposed to cure me make me worse?!" you yell. Tears well up in your eyes. "Why won't you listen to me?!"

He looks like a parent dealing with their crying toddler; confused yet confident they'll get over it eventually. "Hmm... I think you need a nap."

"A nap? What, am I in timeout now?" You fold your arms across your chest like a pouting child, realizing a little too late how funny the doctor probably finds the gesture.

Warren gets out some medical supplies: a needle and a vial. Filling the syringe with a clear liquid from the small container, he turns towards you and grins menacingly. "This'll only take a moment..."

Before you can stand up and try to run away, he plunges the needle into your arm.

You cry out and flinch away, but not before all of the syringe's contents empty inside you. He holds you against him, shushing softly in your ear as you sob until suddenly your eyelids grow heavy.

He keeps you firmly tucked in his grip, and you find that you're unable to move, paralyzed by whatever substance he injected into you.

As soon as he sees you drifting off, he lies you on the bed and rushes out, yelling something that sounds too far away to hear.

...

When you wake up, you see white walls all around you. Blinking your eyes, you look down at your clothes to see an outfit totally different from what you had been wearing when you were in Warren's office. This looks more like hospital garb.

Speaking of which, where was Warren?

Turning your head weakly to the right, you notice you're attached to a heart monitor, the wires running to sensors on your chest and fingers.

You struggle to prop yourself up and sit properly on the bed.

Warren walks into the room. "Good morning! Or, should I say good afternoon?" he smiles teasingly, closing the door behind him. "How are we feeling?"

"I'm feeling like you drugged me! What am I doing here?!" Your throat feels like its on fire, but you continue trying to speak regardless. "Can't you talk to me without having me admitted to a hospital?! Oh god- please don't tell me I'm in the psychiatric ward..."

"You are in the psychiatric ward, yes," he confirms smoothly. "But don't worry. I pulled a few strings to make sure you got the best care." His voice dips into something softer, almost affectionate. "I even had them set up a private room for you. No noisy roommates, no prying eyes—just me, looking out for you."

A chill runs down your spine. This isn't normal. This is too far.

"For what? Telling you I wanted to see a different doctor? For wanting to get off my meds?!" You glare.

He doesn't seem too bothered, pulling out a clipboard. "Well, it says on your chart you attacked me with scissors during our last meeting when I wouldn't give you prescription opioids. That's pretty serious."

"WHAT?!" Your jaw drops. "You liar! That never happened!"

Warren feigns worry. "Oh, sweetheart..." He caresses the side of your face. "You poor thing. Those delusions have you again, huh?" He shakes his head. "I don't know how to tell you this... but you have a problem. A very, very severe one. Which is why you need constant surveillance from someone trained to handle people with your particular condition."

You blink away tears blurring your vision. "This is crazy. You can't do this to me."

"Baby, I'm not 'doing' anything. This was all in your best interests." Warren moves closer to you, rubbing circles into your skin. "You're sick, (Y/n). I've been your doctor for multiple years now. Why would I lie about this?"

You sob harder. You want to believe him so bad.

You trust him, and it's always been easier to follow along with his suggestions rather than try to fight or argue back, but...

"You like treating me as if I'm a baby. Does that have anything to do with this? Or why the medications you've given me make me feel like I'm regressing into a toddler every day?" you spit out bitterly.

He sighs. "That's because you have the obvious mentality of one. The regression isn't a result of the drugs, (Y/n). It's your disorder acting up." He pushes some strands of hair out of your face. "If it helps any, I like taking care of you. Really, I do. I've never considered myself a parental person until I met you. You need me, just as much as I need to be needed by someone else. Like you."

"I'll tell everyone you basically kidnapped me," you threaten. "They can look on the security cameras for proof I didn't do anything!"

He clicks his tongue, chuckling. "I might have accidentally deleted the security footage from the day. Oops," he adds innocently. He kisses your forehead. "Now, get some rest, kiddo. Papa will check on you in an hour. And please don't try anything bad while I'm gone; otherwise, we'd have to add assaulting an orderly or nurse onto your file... We really don't want that, do we?"

All you can do is stare dumbly up at him as the words sink in.

Yes, Warren could definitely get in trouble for this... but who's going to believe you when you've been labeled a danger to yourself and others with a laundry list of mental health disorders, prescribed enough pills to tranquilize an elephant daily?

No one.

He leaves with a final, "Be good," shutting the door with a soft thump, leaving you alone, staring after him long after he's gone.

[thechthonicherbalist]

A belated Hiatus Post

I have been rather inactive for the past 3 months & received a lot of notifs about it. I won't be able to answer all of them, sorry for that. Here's my attempt to try & lay open a little why I've been gone and what the coming months will bring. I have pondered long how to write this in the least hurtful way, while also expressing my own emotions & experiences.

Those of you, who have followed my journey on pretty much any other page, probably know that I'm chronically ill with autoimmune disease, homebound since over a decade, that I got cardiovascular damage as a side effect & that since 2021/22 my condition severely worsened & often leaves me mostly bedridden for weeks at a time. I shared about the numerous surgeries & medical treatments I had in the past year, how I've slowly lost the ability to digest food before & require parenteral nutrition via an IV port since September '23. As well as how I tested positive for GI cancer in March. I've been waiting for an appointment to remove growths, cauterize multiple ulcers & take tissue samples to test for malignant cells since & been gone for a 6 week long hospital stay with a number of surgeries after September 16th & was taking time to recover from that since.

My mental health has gone really bad in the past year as well, for a number of other reasons but also this. I've experienced the biggest cptsd relapse I've had in the past 20 years in the past 14 months. I went from stable & happy, despite my illness and a low-contact situation with family, after almost 2 decades of therapy & inner child healing to escape and recover from an abusive childhood home; keeping my cortisol low and my nervous system calm to prevent further autoimmune flares & to be able to cope with my fatigue enough to do my work and happily make art and write... ...to the point where since about a year I'm in the middle of a full blown relapse of complex PTSD, severe depression and anxiety that has little to do with my offline life. Despite numerous attempts to resolve or remove myself from the underlying situation in order to preserve my well-being and safety, requesting acute intense psychiatric care during hospital stays more than 8 times, as well as consulting regular therapy sessions in social psychiatric help centres since January and ultimately return to therapy since June, I've only started to experience relief more recently.

🌟⭐🌟⭐🌟⭐🌟⭐🌟⭐🌟⭐🌟⭐🌟⭐🌟⭐🌟⭐🌟⭐

And this is where the good news start!

🌟⭐🌟⭐🌟⭐🌟⭐🌟⭐🌟⭐🌟⭐🌟⭐🌟⭐🌟⭐🌟⭐

In the past 2 months, I have finally been able to take care of myself, my work, household and hobbies & properly rest again, without constant exposure to anxiety inducing situations. And while the time in which I had surgery was still horrendous for a number of situations related to this, I have at least started chemotherapy now, without having to constantly fear that something terrible will happen again when I'm most vulnerable right before, during or right after my treatments or other crisis in my private life. So far the treatment is effective, even though I have all the unpleasant side effects that come with it. Overall my life is much calmer now and I don't live in constant anxiety anymore, which is a huge win for me. Moving forward, I want to return to doing things that are good for me & were originally intended for this blog, now that I can finally rest, heal, take care of my health and actually thrive & be productive at my own pace in peace.

So despite the fact that I won't be super active, here are my plans for the future:

Make more original art and art dedicated to my own passions and projects again and actually post them. I had started a series on learning to do folkloric art as well as a series on intrudcing MBTI personalities, glimpses into their lives, lots of research, writing small articles and doing my own art for this, in 2022.

Return to my passion projects from 2022/2023 (all NSFW): - My 9-pieced fanfiction series "Lestat's Lovers" and Art for it - My 8-pieced fanfic series "Things I didn't tell Thetis" - My 4-pieced series "To love a thing Death can touch" I have wanted to continue writing for a long time. The plot for the first one has been with me for 17 years & is deeply intertwined with my internal universe. I've always hungered to write & share it with the world with the art I used to make for it, but never finished or even started. It was devastating to be unable to do that for so long.

Post about my journey as a native practitioner of Bohémien Romani Culture, Slavo-Celtic Shaman-/Druidism and Kabbalistic Judaism, as well as the taught believes of Hellenism, Christianity and Christian Satanism in the past 20+ years, present and future.

Translate & publish the vast knowledge I've assembled about herbs & other natural substances, their uses in historic and folk medicine, magic, alchemy, spirituality, etc, their historic significance and much more. It's been a big interest since my childhood, I was taken on hikes to collect herbs & materials for homemade remedies and other things and taught how to make them from scratch, since I could be taken out in a baby sling.

Make blog posts about my culture, including its folklore, mythology, rites, magic etc. and post them here. (I borrowed books about this from the library, so I can give reading recommendations and cite interesting sources! :D)

Create a side blog about my music recommendations, as I'm very passionate about a lot of genres and want to keep things more sorted. <3

Stop being scared to make posts for my mental health & healing journey again, even if they might still get misinterpreted. I can't take the responsibility to manage others' perception & emotions or literally anything else they should work out themselves.

[saphronethaleph]

Outpatient Procedure

The door opened, and Janice Olken looked up.

“Chris H?” she asked.

“That’s me,” the man agreed, somewhat nervously. “The receptionist told me to come straight here – is that all right?”

“That’s quite correct,” Janice agreed. “My previous appointment cancelled, and we’ve got a lot to go through… take a seat, please.”

She shuffled away the papers she was working on, official forms, then assessed Chris.

“All right,” she said. “This is the last meeting before you’re committed, but it’s the first meeting with me, so I hope you’ll forgive me that we go through some basics.”

“Not a problem,” Chris replied. “It’s taken so long to get here already, I’m quite patient.”

Janice smiled slightly.

“No doubt,” she said, bringing up the man’s file. “Let’s see… all right, I’ve gone over your chart, but I need to confirm a few things. No heart conditions or history of heart conditions?”

“My paternal grandfather died at fifty-two,” Chris answered. “That was a heart attack. My father’s now sixty-eight. No other history of heart problems in the family.”

Janice nodded, confirming that. Chris himself was thirty-one, which was well before the point that even a hereditary problem of the same scale as his paternal grandfather would manifest.

“That’s what I’ve got here,” she said. “And your referring physician said that that shouldn’t be a significant problem… any known allergies?”

“Hayfever, but I manage it with medication,” Chris replied. “Isn’t this on my chart?”

“Like I say, it’s my first meeting with you,” Janice pointed out, not unkindly. “I need to confirm a few details… any other medication that you take on a regular basis, besides hayfever medication?”

“No,” Chris answered. “And before you ask – I don’t smoke, I drink no more than two units a week, and I get about four hours of exercise per week.”

Janice confirmed those matched what was on the chart, then picked up a clipboard and a sheaf of paper.

“All right, Mr. Hall,” she said. “If you could tell me your reason for seeking treatment? In your own words.”

Chris’s gaze flicked up to the diplomas hanging behind Janice’s desk, then he focused on her again.

“Self-affirmation,” he answered, steadily enough. “That’s why it’s taken so long, right?”

“Affirmative treatment does tend to take longer,” Janice agreed. “It’s an abundance of caution, as I’m sure you’re well aware, but it’s considered to be an elective treatment and – while I have my own thoughts on whether it should be categorized the same way as other elective treatment – it’s probably a good thing that permanent body modification is hedged about with certain safeguards.”

“Do you think they’re all medically necessary?” Chris asked, sounding somewhat bitter. “The amount of time I’ve spent on-”

He shook his head, cutting the statement off.

“Sorry,” he added. “It’s just been… frustrating.”

“I understand your position,” Janice said, evenly. “A lot of the people who I see coming into this office have faced the same thing. Count yourself lucky that you passed the psychiatric evaluation.”

“Yeah, that was…” Chris began, then shook his head. “It was an ordeal.”

Janice nodded, slightly, taking some more notes.

“Now, I’m afraid that because of your reason for treatment I need to go through some legally mandated questions and comments,” she went on. “I appreciate that some of them will sound nonsensical. But they are required and there’s not really any getting around that. Even if you’ve heard – and answered – them before.”

She flicked to the second page on her clipboard. “I am required to ask you if you have undergone a period of non-treatment affirmation.”

“Yes, insofar as that’s possible,” Chris muttered. “I’ve got a suit, if that’s what you mean.”

“That is the usual way,” Janice confirmed, with a slight smile. “I know it’s a shame you probably won’t need it any more, given the investment.”

“No, I intend to keep it,” Chris said. “It’s… helped me, and I kind of like the idea of being able to be in public as myself without people knowing.”

Janice nodded, making a mental tick mark.

“I am also required to point out that the proposed treatment is permanent,” she said. “And to ask you if you have considered alternatives.”

Chris stared.

“Even at this point you have to ask that stupid question?” he asked. “It’s been years since I started this process!”

Janice let the shout die away, then tilted her head slightly.

“It’s a legal requirement,” she stressed slightly. “I have to ask these questions. It’s out of my… hands.”

Chris looked down, stifling a sigh.

“Right, right,” he said. “I get it, it’s just… I know it’s the law, but these are stupid laws. Right?”

“I couldn’t possibly comment,” Janice said. “Your answer?”

“I’ve considered alternatives, yeah,” Chris replied. “I wouldn’t be here, two and a half years into this process, if any of the alternatives worked for me.”

Janice made a precise tick mark on her sheet, then turned over another page.

“I am required to read you the following,” she said, then cleared her throat slightly. “The process of therianization is a process that is poorly understood. It is a process that cannot be reversed. Patients who have undergone therianization gain a strong allergic reaction to certain metals, including cadmium, silver and palladium. These metals are commonly found in jewellery and catalytic converters.”

She glanced up at Chris, noting his reaction to the disclaimer, and kept going. “The process of therianization is also recorded to have a high regret rate, with twenty-seven percent of those who underwent the process for bodily affirmation reasons registering their regret in questionnaires after one year and forty-five percent after two years.”

It went on, and on, for almost a page, until Janice finally reached the end, ticked another checkbox, and put the clipboard down.

Chris looked like he was about to explode, but contained himself, and Janice held up a hand.

“I know,” she said. “Having reached the end of what I am legally required to read, I can tell you that most of the statistics included are not statistics that I consider to be true. They are, however, part of the Therianization Medical Use Act, so I have no choice but to read them for you and to confirm that I have read them for you.”

“Well, you’ve done that,” Chris admitted, with a sigh. “I just… why is it so hard to do this?”

“You saw the protestors, I take it?” Janice said, glancing towards the door and the front of the building beyond. “That’s just one reason why.”

“Right, right,” Chris groaned. “It just feels… completely backwards. Does everyone who comes to you have this much trouble?”

It was a rhetorical question, because they both knew the answer, but Janice provided it anyway.

“No,” she said, simply. “They do not. In any case where the treatment is associated with directly saving a patient’s life, instead of improving their mental health, the consent required is… significantly less stringent. But I’m sure Phyllis went over it with you – it’s the kind of thing she does.”

“You know her?” Chris asked, curious.

“Of course,” Janice replied. “As odd as it may sound, there’s not actually all that many Registered Theiran Practitioners in the country – there’s a reason you were referred to me from all the way over in Oxford. I make it a point to at least meet all the physicians who’ve referred patients to me in the past.”

She checked over the notes she’d taken again. “All right, Mr. Hall. That all seems in order… now, before we go through the requirements of what you’ll need to do before the actual surgical appointment, we should probably make sure you have a good appointment slot as soon as possible. Can you do an evening appointment next Thursday?”

“...next Thursday?” Chris said, sounding astonished. “That soon?”

“That’s the day of the full moon,” Janice replied. “If we get everything out of the way today, then I don’t actually need to be able to speak during your surgical appointment… just to be able to bite you.”

She smiled, and this time it had a lupine cast to it. “Though I’m sure you’ll want to familiarize yourself with what I look like then anyway…”

[charlottesbookclub]

time after time – chapter four (armitage hux x reader)

time after time masterlist

Summary: Hux forms a new plan to ensure that his meeting with you goes correctly this time

Warnings/Tags: gn!reader; set pre-TFA; time loop; brief description of a medical appointment; references to psychiatric care; references to depression and related symptoms; reading of personal and medical files without the subject's knowledge; super brief suicidal ideation if you squint; as always, let me know if I've missed anything!

Words: 2838

Author’s Note: I don't have a ton of comments to make on this chapter, but please do peruse the tags/warnings because I do reference some mental health stuff in this one! ❤️‍🩹 I'm excited to get back into Hux having another interaction with the reader! the question of course is: will he fumble again? (yes, but in a new and different way! 😌) I hope you enjoy! 🥰

Hux had always believed it took three times to become familiar with something. This fourth time, the sight of the med bay ceiling was far too familiar. He barely gave the medics time to loom over him before he was out of the door, completely ignoring whatever they might have been saying to him. He called Mitaka via coms. He had to know if the lieutenant remembered anything, although Hux seriously doubted he would. It seemed that he alone was trapped in this nightmare.

“General? Is everything alright? Did something go wrong at medical?” Exactly the same as before. Hux sighed.

“Lieutenant, do you recall our conversation from last cycle?” A beat of silence on the other end of the line.

“About the supply chains, sir?” Mitaka asked then, uncertainty quavering in his voice. “I haven’t had time to confer with our agents yet, but—” 

“Never mind, Lieutenant,” Hux interrupted, “thank you.” He clicked off the call.

What Hux needed now was a plan, he decided as he reached his quarters. All this desperate scrambling about wouldn’t get him anywhere. The idea of you stubbornly remained in his thoughts. Maybe he would feel steadier if he went through with the meeting and could clear you from his head. It was no doubt the lingering fear that he had botched the previous two interactions that kept you in his mind. If he could complete the meeting cordially and satisfactorily, he could turn his attention to other matters.

But there was so much time until then. And your persistent presence in his thoughts meant he wouldn’t be able to focus on anything productive during that time. Unless, of course, it pertained to you. How much did he know about you, really? Very little. He could easily use this time to acquire some more information about you, information that would no doubt confirm that you were someone in whom he could maintain a professional disinterest. Filled with new energy, he turned to the data screens on his desk and pulled up your personnel file.

Aside from basic biographical details, he found a list of accolades from your academy days and an impressive academic record. He had been correct about half-hearing from Mitaka that you did recruitment in the field. There were records and field reports from each of your planetside deployments. He hummed to himself in interest as he read the reports you had personally authored; they were professional and well-written. Various official letters from commanding officers commended your work and applauded your abilities to communicate across various cultural and linguistic barriers. He skimmed their contents until one in particular caught his eye. Although it celebrated your work in the field, the writer – a former supervisor – found you unsuitable for assignment to a Star Destroyer. Hux raised an eyebrow and read further. It referenced a report from psychiatric. Deeply intrigued, Hux pulled up the psych file, so curious to know more about you that he barely stopped to consider whether he should continue.

The psych report was a short one, with no flagged indicators of immediate risk. Hux read through its recounting of an observation period and interview that were undertaken two years previously when you had been reassigned to a Star Destroyer after years in the field. The attending psych medic clinically recorded a depressed mood that resulted in lower energy and productivity than your previous documented levels. They had prescribed stims, but the required dosage ended up being higher than they could justify when your presence was not immediately required on the ship and they could better conserve those medical resources by simply deploying you to the field again. The interview section was a brief summary of a conversation with you that had been written up by the psych medic. It didn’t record many of your actual words, but a few key phrases jumped out immediately: “isolated,” “adjustment difficulties,” “lethargic,” “decreased productive output,” “lonely.”

Hux leaned back in his chair, fingers pressed to his lips in contemplation as those words echoed through his mind. Something in his chest felt strange, almost a little strangled. When he forced himself to take a deep breath, it quavered on the way out of his lungs. His memory helpfully presented him with a selection of images of you: honest eyes, nervous fidgeting, shrinking away from him, sobbing in the turbolift. Isolated. Lonely.

He pushed himself out of the chair forcefully, sending it skidding across the floor. Pacing to his large window, he rested his forehead against the cold transparisteel. The stars blinked back at him from the darkness. What in the galaxy was wrong with him? This was no way to act about someone he had barely met. Certainly it was unfortunate that you were experiencing such… unpleasant symptoms, but your condition was not unique. He was sure that others suffered from feelings of isolation, although Hux was too consumed with his work to be able to empathize. Perhaps if he met with you as planned and showed some professional courtesy, he could help to facilitate a more successful transition than your last. Yes, that was it. He would go through with the meeting as he had planned, which would serve the dual purpose of finally banishing the persistent thoughts of you from his mind and easing your transition to the Finalizer.

As though on cue, his reminder about the meeting pinged from his datapad. Hux retreated from the window into his refresher. He splashed his face with cold water and tried to ignore the lingering tightness in his chest. He combed a new layer of gel into his hair, adjusting it to perfection. Donning a freshly pressed uniform and shrugging on his greatcoat, he left his chambers with his intentions set.

Despite his steely determination for an entirely normal and professional meeting between potential future colleagues, Hux made the mistake of letting himself assess you as he approached your table. His motivations had been to simply take stock of your comportment, but his wandering thoughts betrayed him. Just as he had the first time he saw you, he couldn’t help but remark how good you looked. In your uniform, of course. How good you looked in your uniform. It was perfectly tailored to the shape of your body. As a proper uniform should be, he reminded himself. There shouldn’t be anything unusual about that. Forcing himself to look elsewhere, he noticed that despite the stiff set of your shoulders, your fingers were drumming nervously on the table. He was certain you were unaware of this, because he got the distinct impression that you would have made yourself stop if you had known. You kept reaching over to tap your datapad screen, as though checking the time. Transferring his gaze to your face, he noticed you mouth was turned down slightly at the corners into not quite a frown – more of an expression of concentration? Maybe even of anxiety? Hux couldn’t quite parse its meaning. What he was becoming more and more certain of, however, was that he would prefer to see you happy. Because it would ease your transition, of course. Because it would make you more productive in your duties, obviously. Hux attempted to clear his mind of these cluttered thoughts as he approached the table. Always a quick learner, he voiced his greeting more softly this time:

“Captain?” His quieter words were rewarded; rather than startling at the sound of his voice, you turned to look at him more naturally, catching him in your focused gaze.

“General!” Your small exclamation still sounded a bit surprised. Anticipating that you would rise to greet him, Hux instead slid into the seat across from you, encouraging you to remain sitting. What had he gotten himself so worked up about? This would be simple – just like any other meeting with a fellow officer. That was the last coherent thought he had before he met your eyes across the table. Kriff, he really was going to faint again. A beat of awkward silence pulsed between the two of you before you hesitantly broke it, averting your gaze and momentarily allowing Hux to regain his balance.

“Thank you so much for meeting me – I know you must have a full schedule. I uh… I just really appreciate you taking the time to meet… with me.” Your words were faltering but absolutely genuine. Hux could sense it in your tone immediately; it was something rare to hear amongst the officers that usually surrounded him. 

“Of course, I’m happy to meet with any new transfers to the ship,” he offered his best attempt at a smile, but was certain that it came across as tight and stiff. He wanted to kick himself. His words did have the blessed and cursed effect of bringing your eyes back to his though, and the sincerity brimming in them was enough to make him feel a little lightheaded. You returned a small smile of your own. How could you be practically glowing in the harsh lighting of the dining hall? Now he was lightheaded and queasy. 

“I ordered us both a caf. I—well… I wasn’t sure what you drank.” Mercifully, you diverted your attention to the cups on the table. Hux wanted to shake himself by the shoulders and rattle some sense back into his clouded mind. What the kriff was wrong with him? The stress of the unusual circumstances of the past few days was clearly starting to affect him.

“I usually don’t drink caf at this time of the cycle.” You rushed to apologize, but Hux kept going, certain he wouldn’t be able to hear your soft, nervous words without losing his senses again: “but it’s no matter – I have tea back in my quarters.” You murmured a soft “oh” and nodded. Your hands fell into your lap. Hux got the distinct sense that you were trying your best to keep them still. He cleared his throat.

“So… how can I help you?” A perfect question – very professional, and it could even generate some actionable items. Hux was quite pleased with his returning sense of surety. 

“Oh—um…” you passed a hand nervously across your face and let out a small breathy laugh. Hux’s vision went a little blurry around the edges. “I’m not sure actually. I was friends at the academy with Lieutenant Mitaka’s older sister and I suppose they thought—well, the two of them set this up really. I think they wanted me to have a connection with someone here.” Hux nodded, but most of the coherent thoughts had flown from his mind. In his silence, you kept talking.

“To be quite honest, I don’t think I’m doing this right. I mean—is this too informal? I’m actually not used to being surrounded by this many other First Order personnel,” you gestured vaguely to the room at large, but Hux’s eyes never left your face, taking in every small shift in your expression as you spoke. “In the field I was mostly talking to local populations and it was… very… different than this.” You tucked your hands under your legs then, as though you were suddenly aware that other officers didn’t gesticulate as much as you had been. Your eyes found his again, which did little to help his desperate attempt to generate thoughts. “Maybe you could tell me what the expectations are here? That would be helpful as I… adjust.”

Oh, thank the stars! The universe had some pity on him after all: reciting information and protocols he knew by heart was just what he needed to dispel the odd sensations that had plagued him since he first saw you. Without hesitation, he launched into a recitation of the various rules, regulations, and even unspoken expectations that governed life aboard the Finalizer. He tried to lose himself in his conveyance of information, resisting the urge to monitor your reactions or even look at you too closely. From the few glances he allowed himself, you seemed to be listening with interest, nodding along to his words. As he wrapped up his remarks, he decided it was best to leave while he was ahead. After all, he had accomplished both of his goals: he was able to provide information that would facilitate your transition and he had conducted the meeting with enough professional courtesy that he could consider it satisfactorily completed, finally putting you from his mind.

“I hope this provided some comfort as you adjust to your duties aboard the Finalizer,” Hux concluded, “I’m afraid I have another commitment now, but you are welcome to contact me if you have any further questions.”

“Yes, thank you, General. This was very helpful,” you responded, although your bright sincerity from earlier was slightly dimmed. Hux did not permit himself to analyze this further; he needed to end the meeting before his intermittent ailment overtook him again. He stood from the table and you echoed the motion, though your posture wasn’t quite as crisp as it had been before. He had to stop noticing these things before it drove him to distraction.

“I’m certain I will see you around the ship, Captain,” Hux commented, inclining his head toward you in a departing gesture. You simply nodded in response, meeting his eyes. Realizing the danger he faced in lingering longer under your gaze, he turned swiftly, but not so quickly that he missed the something that was plain on your face. Your expression was unreadable to him in that split second, despite the fact that it was not veiled with any attempt at pretension or deceit; things that Hux was all too accustomed to deciphering in the faces around him. This uncertainty quickened his steps as he whisked out of the dining hall and back to his quarters.

Hux was not a man who tolerated failure. That’s why he planned, why he prepared – so he wouldn’t risk failing. So how had this perfect plan failed so spectacularly? The meeting had gone almost as he had imagined. He had experienced moments of that strange recurring illness, yes, but overall he felt he had comported himself with great professionalism. So why the kriff were you still on his mind?

He slammed his fist onto his desk and considered bringing his forehead along with it. This meeting – done correctly this time – was supposed to have brought him closure and allowed him to focus on other things. It was having the opposite effect. Thoughts of you filled nearly every part of his mind, replaying even the most minute of your actions, running your little laugh on repeat, reminding him constantly of your soft eyes. Maybe he did need to be sent to psych – he felt like he might be losing his mind. 

And then there was the question of the expression on your face as he turned to leave. Without even meaning to, he was picking at the problem of it as though it were a new starfighter design rather than a fleeting look from someone he barely knew. And that was another thing that ate away at him as he sat alone in his quarters, tormented by thoughts of you: he hadn’t asked you anything about yourself. You had mentioned your work in the field; he should have asked more. No he shouldn’t have – what was he thinking? It had been a professional meeting – he had made sure of that – there was no need to get to know you better than necessary for cordial interactions. But the not-knowing gnawed at him. He wantedto know more. No he didn’t – he couldn’t. Any longer of looking at you across the table, hearing you speak, listening to your laugh, watching each gesture – any longer and he would have lost what remained of his reason. But why? He buried his face in his hands, nearly ready to cry in frustration. 

In this midst of these flurried thoughts, the part of his mind that had been puzzling at the question of your last expression rushed forward with the answer: you had been disappointed. Kriff. Why did he work so hard to discover answers that he didn’t want to know? He paced to the window, the weight of this realization heavy in his chest. Why were you disappointed? He let himself fall against the transparisteel, savoring the cold press of it against his skin. He idly wished that it might give way and relieve him of the spinning chaos of thoughts that he could not seem to clear. He walked himself back through the whole interaction, exerting great effort to not linger on the images of you. This replay confirmed to him that the meeting had indeed gone mostly to plan – he had done admirably despite brief bouts of whatever illness still seemed to be affecting him. So why were you disappointed? And even more perplexingly, a small voice reminded him, why did it matter to him that you were disappointed? Despite all his logical thinking and reasoning abilities, this was not a question he could answer. 

[areallysourlemon]

Biggering Animation (Behind The Scenes / Work In Progress Log #14)

Hiya everyone So I have an important update to share. I have decided to put the Biggering project on hiatus until I have graduated from university (which is this late November) and actually feel well enough to continue (despite some times I say I'm getting better, when I'm actually not) For the past 7 months (as I have mentioned previously), I have unfortunately been experiencing (yet another) prolonged depressive episode that has made me mentally and physically unwell which has made it very difficult to work on Biggering, it's also been affecting my performance in university. With the stress of my final year (and most important) of uni, I have decided to prioritise my spoons (energy) on my education. In all honesty, I had probably started Biggering while (and i say this lightly) I was in a hypomanic episode. Once I crashed to a point I knew I felt like I could put my life in danger, I immediately booked to see my GP, I waited 2 weeks but then my appointment got cancelled the day before I was scheduled. It upset me to the point I decided to go to urgent care (r.i.p $100 ;0;). While I was there, I asked to be screened for type 2 bipolar/cyclothymic disorder. However, unfortunately, regular doctors can't diagnose psychiatric disorders. So all they could do is recommend me helplines, gave me a doctor's note for a few days off of school and a prescription for antidepressants (with a diagnosis of PDD/dysthymia). I rebooked with a local GP to be put on the waitlist for a public psychiatrist (cause I can't afford private) and when i went back, my doctor said that they didn't get any information back (so when i go see my GP again I'm gonna ask to pester them again cause the public health system sucks massive dookie). It has been an uphill battle to get the help I so desperately need (I have been struggling with mental health complications for about 10 years and each year that passes, the more I think I will never get better). So atm I'm gonna thug it out until then.

[mctives]

@innocencel0st // released starter

Part of the deal is that he needs a lot of psychiatric treatment, and that involves psychotherapy on top of all the medication. He'd gotten some version of that in prison too, but it was different now. Everybody involved had something to lose if he went off his rocker again, didn't they?

On top of that, there was still money in the family, and even though his parents were dead now and his older sister Tabby had inherited, for some reason she'd decided to help him. She was divorced now, and her kids had moved out, so... Maybe he was her project--had been for a couple years when, out of nowhere, she'd started visiting him. He didn't know. She'd been the one to talk to the lawyers in the first place and get all this moving.

Neither of them talked about her kids, though. He figured that he'd never meet them, and that was fine.

That day's session had gone well. As well as they ever did. Stu still couldn't quite shake his habit of lying, but when he got to the end of a lie in therapy, he'd been doing better at admitting to lying. They hadn't talked about anything too deep this time, but... they talked about his job, and that was humiliating. He didn't have any skills, especially anything involving modern computers, and his record limited his options. Couldn't exactly drive Uber. And the family real estate business had been sold off a while ago, so... For the moment, he was working in a warehouse, but who knew how long that'd last at his age.

That's what he was turning around in his mind when he saw her.

For a moment, he thought he was imagining her, but the pieces suddenly fit together. She'd visited him that one time, a while ago, before Tabby had started visiting. She'd said she was a psychiatrist or something, right? That she talked to a lot of guys like him. So it made sense she'd be working in an office where someone like him ended up going to get his head on straight.

His mouth started working quickly because--shit she might think he was stalking her or something. So, the first word that came out was, "Sorry." Then he furrowed his brow because that was a stupid thing to say. "I, uh, had an appointment. I didn't know."

[chasm-connected]

hey pals um. hi. i don't really know what to do here because i abhor callout posts but i think this is necessary for safety and i'm really not sure it counts as a callout post if it's about a medical practice? so feel free to spread this wherever, i guess, and feel free to ask me for details. they haven't kicked me out of the mychart yet for some reason so i should probably get records of that before one of us finds out they have the ability to do that.

the tl;dr is: if you are seeking transgender-related surgery, you'll want to reconsider mt. sinai NYC, especially if you are nonbinary seeking a "nontraditional" surgery, or if you are mentally ill.

readmore contains descriptions of intense exorsexism and ableism, as well as mentions of surgeries and the names of body parts that would be operated on. there is no medical detail, this part of the content warning is just if the names are a squick or worse. during the mental health section there is past abuse and mental health issues mentioned but this is not very detailed and passed over quickly. it is warned before that section.

i started seeing mount sinai's center for transgender medicine back in august, as i was attempting to get a hysterectomy with vaginectomy, and later on, hopefully full nullification surgery. i was told by previous doctors i saw that they could do a hysterectomy, but didn't have the surgical training to do the vaginectomy, but they could also tell me the full procedure for the hysterectomy and vaginectomy. they told me that it would be safer to do the hysterectomy and vaginectomy at the same time rather than separately. this happened 2-3 times. i was told that mount sinai was likely the only practice in i believe 400 miles or more that does this. however, when i was properly referred to them, they absolutely had no idea what i was talking about, and every step of the way i had to explain nullification surgery, vaginectomy, labia removal, clitoral hood reduction, why i would not want a penis in the first place, and how to even do a vaginectomy without performing phalloplasty. they do not have transneutral forms on their website at all. this did not seem safer seeing as they did not understand the surgery that i was asking them to do. for some reason i went forward with it, likely because i was told multiple times that no one else could do it.

the first appointment in august was meant to be done over video, but zoom would not connect. i called to report it and wound up on a phone line. it was very clear that they could not hear me, so i sent a mychart message a few days later when i didn't hear back, as i assumed they had no idea what i said.

Magpie, 08/23/2024, 2:38 PM Just wanted to be clear that I'm looking for a vaginectomy and hysterectomy (which other doctors in multiple places in NY said it's safest to get at the same time but they couldn't do there), and later a labia removal and clitoral hood reduction for nullification surgery. Just giving you that in text in case anyone asks what I'm talking about. Cheers.

i did not hear back for 3 months despite checking in multiple times, and was told by the front desk that i had the wrong number at times when checking in. in november i heard back from the doctor who referred me, and was told that mt. sinai had contacted her instead, telling me that i was "Concerning", that i asked for a medically impossible surgery, and that i asked for everything at once. they said they could absolutely do a vaginectomy and hysterectomy but not this. they heavily implied that my Concerning and Complicated surgery made me very crazy but the word crazy was not directly said.

i dug up the aforementioned mychart message and showed my doctor.

later in november, i actually had an appointment in new york city, where i had to speak to their own psychiatric staff. i asked why my two letters from my own psychiatric staff don't count. they said they don't in this situation. i told them i wouldn't be telling them my psychiatric diagnoses and to please get them from my doctor because some of them were stigmatized and i wanted them to actually know me first. i am surprised they agreed to that.

this part is hard to write, so, content warning for most of the mental health stuff here. i will try not to get too graphic but this involves a mention of suicide, abuse physical and sexual (physical mentioned more in depth), and there is a mention of drugs but the content in question is more hatred towards drug users.

apparently their mental health assessment involves going over the worst moments of your life, and also asking what would happen to you if you couldn't get surgery over and over. i tried my best to present as normal as possible which was terrifying. we had gone over that i had a lifesaving cholecystectomy during the medical section. i accidentally slipped up in the drugs and alcohol section and said i had not abused drugs "for over 10 years" and they pushed me over and over to tell them more despite that i told them that they are not really supposed to ask past a year ago. i told them that i abused prescription meds before having a psychiatrist, realized what i was doing, and got a psychiatrist. they asked me over and over if i took morphine or heroin. i am going to be honest i never wanted to before that moment. never have since. never said so because i didn't want to hear it. they diagnosed me with an opioid use disorder in remission, which i do not have, because none of my actual doctors recognize it as such. during the abuse section we had to go over that an ex hit me and told me it was a mercy kill - apparently this was marked in my chart as the only instance that they hit me and my physical health where I have a TBI was marked as unclear as a result. they went over self-harm later and at the end of this section asked "what is the closest you've come to dying", verbatim. trying very obviously to dodge the question, i told them they knew what i said in the abuse section. they kept pushing me to answer. i infodumped about salt poisoning accidentally before trailing off as i realized what i was doing. they kept asking me what i would do if i could not get the surgery. i told them i'd like a referral to get a hysterectomy since i was ghosted for 3 months. they fully acknowledged they did that. they asked what if there was no one at all that could do the surgery. i said there's someone like 300 miles away from them who said she could do a hysterectomy 5 months ago and i'll go see her. they said what if there was a perfect world with no SA because they kept implying i was crazy for partially being dysphoric out of fear i would be assaulted. i do not know if they realize this sounds very 'no one would be attracted to you' but i won't touch it. i told them that's nice but i still have dysphoria and uterine pain. they said WHAT IF THERE WAS A WORLD WITH NO SURGEONS. i started to say that due to dysphoria i probably would pierce things, as i had already planned piercings before i learned of nullifications. then my head pinged and i said a little too loud I WOULD BE DEAD FROM MY GALLBLADDER. and then we ran out of time.

do you ever do so badly at your psychiatric assessment that you fail the time trial

another doctor came in and said we could absolutely totally do the hysterectomy and vaginectomy before i left.

i spent the entire next week having flashbacks.

we set up a second appointment. the zoom did not work. i was redirected to a line and i realized that they have a full line dedicated to zoom errors. i would actually love to know how often their zoom doesn't work. the zoom line. didn't work. i sent a message through the front desk.

we set up a third appointment. the zoom did not work. i went "actually... no?" because i had just had a zoom call with another doctor right before this one. and so i pulled up zoom on my phone and it worked. something about their zoom is incompatible with desktop for me. i would genuinely love to know why. finished the psych assessment. i did, at this point, give them a partial list of my diagnoses because i hoped they would go faster if i was cooperative

lol lmao

MENTAL STATUS EXAM (PART 1) Appearance: Well-groomed, appropriately dressed for weather Behavior: Cooperative, good eye contact Muscle Strength/Tone/Movements: No abnormal movements Gait/Station: Normal gait Speech: Normal rate/rhythm/volume, spontaneous Mood/Affect:Euthymic, congruent, reactive Thought Process: Linear, goal directed Thought Content: No delusional content Suicidal: Denies Homicidal: Denies Perceptual disturbance: Denies, does not appear internally preoccupied Insight/Judgment/Impulsivity: Good/good/intact Cognitive Assessment Orientation: x3 Attention/Concentration: Grossly intact Recent and Remote memory: Grossly intact Abstraction: Grossly intact Language: Grossly intact Construction: Grossly intact Fund of knowledge: Above Average Executive Function/frontal networks: Grossly intact

MENTAL STATUS EXAM (PART 2) Apperance/Clothing: Well groomed, Appropriately dressed Eye Contact: Appropriate Behavior: Cooperative Psychomotor activity: Normal Musculoskeletal: No abnormal movements Station/Gait: Normal Speech: Normal rate, Normal volume, Normal prosody Language: Normal Mood: Euthymic Affect: Congruent Thought Process: Logical Thought Content: Appropriate to situation Perceptions/Experiences: No hallucinations elicited S/V Risk Assessment: Denies s/v ideation, plan or intent Orientation impairment: None Attention: Normal Insight: Intact Judgement: Good

a lot of medical terms to say i mask really well i guess? doesn't seem to be what they're looking for

they also use AIMS but only in that they check if the patient is taking antipsychotics and if they aren't, they stop there. i have a reaction to most antipsychotics and we found this out by trying most antipsychotics including a lot that are a high risk for TD. if you don't know what this means don't worry about it and my own fear of TD is playing into this more than it should. just please know that me seeing "Patient currently on antipsychotics: No" and then stopping there gave me a shock.

the mychart also lists this in my notes

Given pt's PPHx and complex reasons for seeking these procedures, will obtain collateral from outpatient mental health providers.

so when i see this, i report it to the doctor that referred me, and i start rushing to get my psych and mt. sinai to speak to each other, because this... doesn't look... good.

i checked and my original past psychiatric history that mt. sinai had at the start, according to mychart, was autism, ptsd, and dysphoria. they added opioid abuse disorder themselves after the first session. i did not give them diagnoses at all until the second session so i'm not sure where they got autism and ptsd, but it was enough for them to consider me too crazy.

i didn't hear back for two months. they didn't send the release to my psych. i filled it out at my psych myself after about a week. i sent them my therapist's direct line. i asked mt. sinai and my therapist if anyone had heard from each other. a lot.

the inauguration happens.

i go and ask my doctor if the person i actually liked is still doing hysterectomies, and on her response i tell her to give me a minute because i just got a weird message on mt. sinai's end.

[Sinai Dr], 01/21/2025, 10:25 AM Hi Magpie, Right now things are very in flux, and we are all worried, but we don't have any reason to believe that care for adults in New York (which administers medicare/aid) will be affected right now. You have a very complex psychiatric history. When folks come in with that sort of history we have 2 options, seeing you for several months here to do a complete assessment, or relying on information from your established mental health team. To be clear letters of support do not address this, which is why we ask to speak with providers directly. Usually the second option is much faster, and the timeline I gave was reasonable as most folks' therapists contact us within 1-2 weeks. At this point I have personally left 5 messages with your therapists clinic and 1 on her personal voicemail with my contact info and email. Dr. [Other Sinai Psych] has left a dozen. At this point I am quite frustrated, she has our info, and the ball is in her court if she wishes to reach out to us. If she does not, then we cannot move forward. She can contact us at any of these numbers/email [NUMBERS AND EMAILS REDACTED] (she can do this TODAY)

genuinely. if you tried to pull this about any of my doctors that i don't like. i would help you with it outright. but my therapist is in my top 3 most helpful doctors. trying to blame her isn't going to go well. plus this was sent the day before i had an appointment...?

Magpie, 01/21/2025, 4:27 PM If you genuinely are calling my therapist's direct line, there is no actual reason why you shouldn't be reaching her. I informed her *two weeks ago* that you would be calling and she was looking for your messages. If you are calling the front desk, ask for [Favorite Front Desk Staff] - she's very good at getting messages through in a timely manner. However, I can absolutely confirm that [Therapist] has been looking for your calls for *two weeks* now. I genuinely do not think that this is my therapist intentionally doing something wrong.

24 hours pass.

Magpie, 01/22/2025, 2:18 PM [Therapist] confirmed that she had obtained one phone call, called you back, received no response, and left a message. I was here for medical reasons, not for high school drama, so I think we're done. Please have the day you deserve.

i sent most of my logs in mychart to the doctor that referred me.

i do have a referral set up to the doctor i actually like. i do not have full bottom surgery set up anymore. i am taking it one step at a time but getting what i need the most medically done first.

i'm kind of relieved that it's over.

please stay safe. i can't say without a doubt don't go there but i don't think they like people they consider strange.

[ehlers-danloscircus]

Ok, since I started on a new medication and I'm feeling a little bit better…I thought I should finally update on what happened with the Wellbutrin.

Let me start off by again mentioning that I have recently had pharmacogenetic testing done which shows I have multiple issues metabolizing medications. I don't yet have the full official doctor explanation but it would seem that my body may have been metabolizing the Wellbutrin slow than intended so, it may have been kind of storing up in my body.

So as you can see from my original post about my initial dosage of Wellbutrin things were going pretty well (I will add a link to this post to that entry though) and I was seeing some good changes to my life after a month on that lower dose. At my next appointment my doctor and I decided to up the dosage.

So at this time in my life I was basically living in a long term stay hotel because of my health and a paint can that had been left open for almost a month in my home back in December. I had been at this hotel for at least a month, month & a half so, I was pretty familiar with all the sounds and comings and goings etc. About three to four days after upping the dosage I became sort of hyperaware of some noises in my room from a neighboring room. At some point that night it briefly occurred to me I might be hallucinating these sounds because as I said, I was very familiar with how sounds in the hotel typically carried and this suddenly didn't make sense to me. I ended up not sleeping that well.

The next day I realized that I may also be experiencing some sort of physical hallucination which basically felt like an on going small earthquake or like everywhere I went there were large engines/motor causing the building to shake. I was leaving the hotel that day to move into a rental place near by my home as things at home were slowly improving and seemed like I would be able to return soon. This seemed like a good opportunity to see if I was really experiencing these things or if I was hallucinating. Initially at the rental things seemed better and I was relieved!

Later that evening, however, it all came back and worse than ever. I became really paranoid that I had been followed. So I again didn't really sleep. I left early in the morning to go home to my mom. The sounds followed me home to varying degrees so it was even more confusing. I did call my doctor who set up some calls to varying departments to try and figure out next steps besides me going cold turkey off the Wellbutrin. At one point I for some reason was convinced again that I wasn't hallucinating and so some of those calls got cancelled. This was really bad because that night things got way worse.

I started to have visual hallucinations as soon as it got dark out and my paranoia skyrocketed. That continued into the next day and night even though I had been off the Wellbutrin since the morning I came home. It was a very strange and obviously terrifying and traumatic experience. It reminded me of when I was younger and had a really bad night terror, you at some points know your dreaming but then your brain falls partially back asleep. With this there would be moments where I knew I was hallucinating and none of this was really but then all of a sudden there'd be something that seemed so real my brain fell back into the hallucination and no one could convince me otherwise.

On the second night of the visual hallucinations I ended up voluntarily going to the psychiatric ER since I was too afraid to sleep at all. From there I had to do a one week stay at an inpatient hospital and was placed on some heavy duty anti-psychotic medication. On the third or so day of anti-psychotic meds the auditory and physical hallucinations stopped (I did not have the visual hallucinations anywhere except in my home.) This medication was no joke and I experienced a lot of extremely unpleasant side effects from it but I was willing to go through it rather than risk what everyone was warning me about which was that if we did nothing there was a chance that the hallucinations could become "permanent." Basically, it was suggested by the doctors that (kind of like trauma I suppose) your brain can sometimes hard wire those paths that it's making.

After the week there I came home, began recovery and started to slowly wean off the anti-psychotic (which was a whole other terrifying journey mostly just not being sure if everything would come back or not) which took about a month. The anti-psychotic it turned out was really ramping up my anxiety so once I was about to get down to a safe dose to go completely off it, that went away instantly!

So here I am about 6 months from the start of that increased dosage and about 4 months from weaning off the anti-psychotic. I've started a new medication at the lowest dosage, given guidance by the genetic testing, and that has definitely stirred up a of PTSD from the whole experience with the Wellbutrin but I'm working through it and trying to remain positive now that we know more about what might have happened. My psychiatrists feel very confident that there is no lasting/lingering issues to worry about and that it's very unlikely I have any underlying mental health issue (I'm a closed adoption adoptee so no family history to go on) that I need to worry about that would have caused this, given things stopped very quickly with the anti-psychotic and there has been no sign of return since stopping.

Apparently this is just an issue that sometimes happens with Wellbutrin and maybe more so as dosage increases. It may have been I would have been fine at that lower dose. This is also often an issue with stimulant adhd meds so for that reason I cannot take those (aside from also having heart issues which initially took those off the table.) I have since heard a lot of stories from other people taking these medications that have had similar experiences.

I'm sharing all this to say…it may not happen to you, it doesn't happen to everyone but it does happen…it's probably not a sign that you have schizophrenia or anything like that but you DO NEED TO TELL YOUR DOCTOR IMMEDIATELY! The sooner the better, even if you aren't having scary hallucinations like I did. Let them help you sort it out. Yes, anti-psychotics are scary and not pleasant I get that but it's really not worth risking the hallucinations getting worse or permanent. I know it can be hard to find doctors and psychiatrists to trust, BELIEVE ME I KNOW!! I knew that before but yeah, this was a whole new eye opening experience of how vulnerable one is in mental health settings…it can really be nightmarishly terrifying to feel so vulnerable. There are so many people out here (sadly) though that are willing to share there experiences and how to get through it, how to advocate for yourself, and resources of people and places to get help. It's something to be aware of, it's something to take quick action on before it spirals…

My last take away from this, which is something my therapist brought up and I'm very appreciative of, is when going on medication give a lot of thought to what you are looking for from it and keep in mind that "perfect" doesn't need to exist. Sometimes good enough is good enough. That low dosage for me was good enough after a month and who knows maybe it would have still continued to improve my life after several months on it with no issues. I think going slowly with it would have been fine (adhd wise). I admit I think I was desperately chasing some perfect idea I had in my head about how things were going to be in my life so I agreed to rush ahead. This time I feel like I have a better idea of what I want out of medication and what I'm measuring my experience/improvement/life by. I'm more ok with saying "Ok, this is pretty good or okish…it's not "perfect", it could maybe be a little better but I'm ok with staying here and seeing how it continues at this dose. If things seem worse then maybe talk about what to do from there." I think there's a medical mantra of "slow and low" (start low dose and increase slow), it's a good one.

[w33d-k4tz]

I think it sucks how I'll never be taken seriously when I try to get medical help because of my medical history of being hospitalized for psychiatric disorders. I've seen a bunch of doctors to try and figure out what the actual fuck is wrong with my body because I keep getting extremely dizzy and my heart rate spikes whenever I stand up and my body is just. Constantly in noticeable amount of pain especially with ANY kind of physical exertion (ie. walking or standing up or even sitting down. Any movement really). And none of the doctors will take me seriously because they either pass it off as "yeah anxiety gives you joint pain it happens to everyone eventually" or "people with mental disorders tend to take things dramatically so don't worry about it too much". All my appointments with doctors immediately end when they ask about medical history. Like it's just not possible that there's something else going on. Yet when I go to my general doctor for like a cold or something they insist on drug testing me. When I asked why they seemed so uncomfortable and just went "well.. people with mental illness crumble to drug addiction alot so just to be safe..." . Like why is it that they won't take me seriously because I'm mentally ill but they also use it in order to make the assumption that I'm on drugs constantly? Like I get the precaution or whatever but jfc stay consistent with it at least.. this happens especially a lot with my Korean doctors (I'm Korean. I'm not being racist this is just what I've noticed). Mental illness is SO stigmatized in Korea and because all the korean doctors I'm meeting are older immigrants i think that's still a mindset that they're carrying with them during consultations. I mean I see it in my own parents too like they jokingly brought up me needing a cane because "[im] so weak like a cripple that [i] can't even climb up the stairs". And I asked them as a half joke if I should get a cane and they laughed and went "good luck paying for that when you're an adult we're not funding you to be lazy though". Like in what world is that okay to say... like you acknowledged that our Healthcare system is fucked up and severely skewed against those in poverty (often those who need healthcare the most) and think it's a funny joke. I just think it's sad how much some people are controlled by their old biases and assumptions of mental illness and people who struggle with it.

[feline-evil]

It wasn't funny at the time but looking back on it man it is genuinely hilarious how my first attempt at getting diagnosed and getting help with my mental illnessess went.

So imagine if you will the skinniest, most unwell, sleepless looking 18 year old, just real Victorian orphan vibes with permanent shakes and a penchant for passing out in fear if he so much as thinks of leaving the house. I need you to know that's the kind of state i was in when i walked into a doctors office to see one of the oldest men i've ever seen in an employed field. He sits me down and asks me what's wrong, he's the GP at my local doctors; that's a general practitioner, if you're outside of the UK maybe that's not a familiar term. Anyway he's not a psychologist, you don't get to see a psychologist unless your GP refers you! Anyway he asks me whats wrong and i explain to him my long list of debilitating anxiety symptoms, i tell him about not being able to eat or sleep or leave the house; i'm in a bad way at this point in my life, it's not a good time for young jay! Lad doesn't even know he's a man yet! Pretty bad time all round!

And so after i explain to him the situation we get our first of the many funny 'i'm not sure this man is qualified to have this conversation' red flags.

"Do you have a boyfriend?"

Uh oh.

Well no, sir, on account of the not leaving the house socialisation has been tricky, see?

"Oh you need a boyfriend and some friends, that'll help love :)"

Uh oh.

It is at this point in the appointment we are winding down towards the end of my time here at the doctors, and our next big ol' waving red flag hits like a jet liner. And this ones the big one, the one that gives me reason to tell this story and watch people look a mite aghast.

The GP laughs, claps a hand on my shoulder and says "well don't you worry, we won't be locking you up for this one!"

I freeze in shock.

What did this man just say.

Now, i don't wish to imply that this wouldn't be a horrifying thing to say to a different teen riddled with severe mental illness who didn't have a family history of relatives being admitted to psychiatric institutes, but i am suggesting that MAYHAPS. JUST POTENTIALLY. That was a slightly more horrifying sentence to come out of a medical professionals mouth to someone who has that as a family history in his own living memory! So i lock up in horror, alarms blaring in my mind, wondering how the fuck i'm going to politely and finitely end this conversation and meeting and leave vowing never to cross this mans path again in my life; but i don't get much time to ponder what to do, because here comes the final red flag, that second jet liner crashing right in, the final can of petrol being poured on the burning wreck that is the first appointment i have ever made to talk about my mental health.

This man, a complete stranger, i had never met this GP before in my life, hugs me. It is so uncomfortable, i would not say i am the most comfortable with physical contact from strangers even now nearly ten years later, but then? At age eighteen? This is just about the worst thing that could've happened in my eyes! I do not come from a family that hugs, i didn't not know how to hug back then, in that moment it's awkward and weird and i just freeze and wait for it to end, and then i leave the room with the GP beaming and waving after me like he's just performed a miracle and i'll forever be cured from this point on.

I walk to my mom waiting for me in the waiting room, she smiles and gives me a thumbs up.

GENUINELY it couldn't have gone worse, objectively the funniest awful situation i have ever been in.

[hongherbac]

[Serizawa centric] The Humanity of S&S - Chapter 4

Read it on AO3

Chapter: 4/6

Fandom: モブサイコ100 | Mob Psycho 100 Rating: General Audiences

Non-Romantic Relationships: Seirizawa Katsuya & Reigen Arataka & Dimple

Summary: Reigen and Dimple set out for an exorcism.

CW: mild horror, insects, worms, body horror, mild self harm (all due to the evil spirit)

Chapter 4

"I got it. Now, just get some rest."

Reigen slid his cell phone closed. It would be a lie to say that he wasn't worried. Maybe he should have taken Serizawa out yesterday.

"It's quite rare that Serizawa actually takes a sick leave." Dimple said.

"Well, we all have our moments."

"I remember you have an appointment this afternoon, don't you? What now? Want me to do you a favor?"

Reigen looked at the calendar, "Oh, it's the gentleman who came two days ago. According to his description, his wife had a stroke a few months ago, and has been bedridden ever since. I think his daughter got an OCD because of the stress of a sudden change in the family. The parents, however, refuse to acknowledge it. I will refer them to a couple of ‘psychiatric clinics’. She should get better with continued treatment. Anyway, you should come with me, just in case."

"At least say thank you."

Later that day, they arrived at the client's house a few minutes early.

It was a traditional wooden bungalow nestled in a quiet residential neighborhood. The exterior walls were unpainted, showing the dark wood that had been weathered by time, giving it an eerie, somber look. It had been sunny on their way here, but now the clouds were dark, circling the house and casting an ominous shadow.

Dimple looked up at the sky, where a large amount of black resentment energy continued to emerge from above the house. He turned his head and realized that Reigen was staring in the same direction with a grim face. If it could even be seen by a human, the evil spirit must be very, very powerful.

"Reigen, this isn't something you or I can handle. Just go back."

"We've already made the appointment with the client. We can't just go back." Reigen swayed reluctantly, hands in his pockets, but his feet moved forward toward the door.

"You're kidding me! Even Serizawa can't beat that one. Ask Shigeo to take care of it. Hey! Reigen!"

-Ding-dong.

Within seconds of the doorbell ringing, the client came to greet him, apparently having been waiting. It had only been two days, but the middle-aged man was even more haggard than the last time. He was in a trance, and his hair was visibly falling out one by one.

"Come in, please."

They followed the client into the house. As soon as they stepped through the door, the air turned cold and stagnant. There was a rustling of insects and a buzzing of flies from somewhere. Out of the corner of his eye, Reigen thought he caught a glimpse of something flash by. But when he looked again, there was nothing. Reigen felt an itch on his cheek. He slapped himself. Is that a mosquito or something?

"Dimple, what's the situation?" Reigen asked in a low voice.

"Well…" Dimple said with a rare complex expression, "You're lucky you can't see it."

In the eyes of the evil spirit, the house was coated in black. The walls, the floors, the pillars, the ceilings, and the furniture. Without a gap in sight, they were all covered with soft, slimy, and dense black worms, disgustingly countless, crawling on the client's emaciated body. As Reigen walked by, the worms climbed onto his shoes, wriggled slowly, and crept into his pants.

They went up to the second floor. The client knocked on the door and called out weakly, "Rico, the exorcist is here. Please open the door. I promise he will help you."

"I told you not to bother me while I'm studying."

A girl's voice came from the room. A little later, the wooden door opened a small crack, revealing the girl's grim, skeptical face.

"I'm sorry, Rico, but please let the exorcist take a look inside. It won't take long." The client pleaded in a low voice.

The girl glanced at Reigen, and without saying anything, opened the door for them to enter. Her face was pale and riddled with pink scratches, some of which were oozing blood, while others were scabbed over and broken, leaving bruises everywhere. The girl turned back to her desk, where several reference books were spread out in front of her, tattered and dirty from repeated pencil scribbles. She picked up her pen and scratched her face, her neck, her arms, and her body with the left hand.

Reigen looked around. It was an ordinary room of a girl. Of course, he could not see the black worms all over the place, otherwise he would not be so calm. But he did feel that the atmosphere here was even heavier than downstairs. Seeing the girl scratching herself, even he couldn't help but feel itchy, but he resisted the urge to scratch it.

Reigen cleared a space on the girl's bed to sit down, spoke in a kind voice, "Hello, my name is Reigen Arataka. Your father has hired me to help you."

"… Just shut up. Do whatever you want. I'm trying to concentrate." Scratch. Scratch.

"Have you been disturbed by any paranormal phenomena lately?"

"… No. Dad is overreacting. He gets everyone upset."

"You're studying hard. Are you preparing for an exam?"

"… High school entrance exams are in a few months." Scratch. Scratch.

"They're very important to you, aren't they?"

"Of course they are!" The girl slammed her pen down and yelled angrily, "High school determines college, and college determines your life! You can't even get into a company without good grades! Getting low wages for life! Being looked down upon! It's a world of academic qualifications, and a person's place in society is determined at this time. It will become a lifelong imprint!"

The client said timidly, "But, Rico, you're pushing yourself too hard… You need to sleep and eat something."

"Dad is in no position to say that! Didn't you and Mom teach me that? I will get into the best high school. You'll see! It's nothing to work a little harder now."

The girl turned her eyes back to the reference book.

"Ahhhh, I'm getting itchy again talking to you guys. There are too many bugs around. So itchy. It's driving me crazy! Leave me alone! I need to study. If I concentrate, it won't itch anymore…"

Her fingers scratched harder and harder, her already red and swollen skin was scratched to the point of breaking, but she didn't stop. Bright red blood gurgled down from her cheeks, only to be smeared by her fingernails, as if turning into a strange rouge.

Reigen decided to stop stimulating the girl and signaled for the client to leave the room temporarily. They came out into the hallway to discuss the matter. The client looked at Reigen pitifully, almost in tears, with a few more strands of hair falling out. He begged in broken words, not even knowing what he was saying, just clinging to a piece of driftwood for salvation.

Reigen pondered for a long time before finally looking up, "Anyway, let's call an ambulance first."

"A-Ambulance!"

"We can't let Rico hurt herself any further. At least she will be protected for a while in the hospital."

"Aren't you a psychic? Get rid of that evil spirit that's haunting my daughter now!"

"Ah, ah, yes. This spirit is more vicious than I expected. The spiteful energy has spread throughout the house. I'm afraid it's dangerous to stay here. I remember your wife also lives here, right? I suggest that you two move out for a few days, and I will bring my apprentice to perform the exorcism ceremony. I'll let you know when it's over."

"Uh, uh…"

"Hey, Reigen." Dimple said, "Something is wrong. The evil spirit isn't possessing the girl."

"What?" Reigen frowned, his mind racing, "So, that means--"

A terrifying voice echoed through the air.

"Do not take my daughter."

A woman's voice came from all directions, old, weak and hollow, and unshakably insistent.

"I heard it all. Kaishi, how could you end up with such a crook? SEND THEM OUT NOW."

"Darling, please don't!" The client pleaded.

Reigen looked around. He had already seen the general layout when they passed by the first floor. Since it was a family of three and Rico's room was known, he quickly deduced the location of the master bedroom. Without hesitation, he moved forward and opened the door.

Inside lay a woman. Disheveled gray hair fell across her forehead. Her cheeks were sunken, her face pale and ashen, and her eyes were wide open, out of focus, but somehow giving off an intense feeling, as if she were actually staring at everything. Withered hands reached out from the dirty blanket, the skin flaccid and fragile. The thin lips opened and closed without making a sound, like a fish out of water struggling for air. Something black crawled out of her mouth.

"Oh, it's a living wraith." Dimple said in wonder.

"Rico NEEDS to focus on studying for her exams."

"I will KILL anyone who tries to bother her again."

"… Bullshit."

"What did you say?"

"I said, I'm sick of your bullshit!!" Reigen snapped, pointing his finger directly at the woman, "Everyone is talking about exams, exams. It's just high school, a liiiiiitle teeny tiny part, not your whole life! There are still plenty of opportunities in the future. Fine, kids can be like that, but what's an old hag like you fussing about?"

"Nonsense! To get ahead in this society - "

"What do you get by pushing a girl to that extent! Without everything else in life, you are nothing but an empty shell. Isn't she your daughter? Don't you feel sorry for her?"

"So it is. I see."

"Glad you've finally seen it! … Uh, let me just ask, what did you see?"

"You're those bad friends who come to confuse Rico, the stumbling blocks to her bright future."

The woman's eyes were hanging, her neck pulled by invisible threads. A mass of eerie black smoke seeped out of her mouth.

"You must be eliminated NOW."

[the-stardust-shard]

Night ward again

Today’s the shitty psychiatrist and surprisingly the appointment went well (like, without a hitch)

She encouraged me to try nurse school (as i told her i wanted to try but was afraid of the tons of accommodations i would need) but informed me that i won’t be able to do my apprenticeship time here at this psych ward as i was sectioned here (i wanted to choose psychiatric sector, and this location specifically, but well the answer is already a no)

And the night nurse (another new face to me) is a surprisingly chill one who also told me they were surprised about how level-headed i am considering the extreme alert case my inpatient folder is.

They also approved seeing me stimming with my small mechanical garrot band hehe (“yeah i can’t stop playing with mine either when i have it on hand”)

[selfpositiveundertale]

Long post in which I ramble about my grief of losing a trusted medical provider I've been seeing for many years, the physical pain I am currently experiencing, what physical pain does to my mind when it escalates too much, the mental health care I receive, and things I think I'll start doing to take care of myself.

The chiropractic called me earlier before I went to my appointment. My main chiropractor Dr K who I've been seeing since I was a child, for nearly 22 years, can no longer see me because he found out he has a severe allergy to cats and every time he sees a patient with cats he's sick for days afterward. I have cats, so me and all his other cat owner patients are being switched to the other two who work in the office. I'm gutted. I don't know how I'm going to cope with this. I can still see Dr R, been seeing him for about 17 years, and that's who I saw today but he's not the same. Dr K knows me better than any other medical professional who has ever worked with me. He always has an answer for any question I have and when he doesn't have an answer immediately he researches it so he can find out for me. He's done more for me than any other doctor ever. He's gotten me through so much. I trust him more than anyone in the world except my husband. And now out of nowhere I can't see him anymore. I'm shattered. I feel like I just lost a family member. I'm very much in mourning. Dr R was sympathetic and let me cry about it while he was fixing up my ribs and neck.

My husband and I eventually want to move to live with my best friend who lives two states away, so I knew I'd eventually have to say goodbye to Dr K whether it was when we move or if he retires before then since he's pretty old, but I wasn't expecting it to end so suddenly like this. I might create a digital art piece to email him and thank him for everything he's done for me.

Idk. I want to sleep but I am laid low by a menstrual migraine (been happening every cycle since last June) and I don't think the pain will allow me to fall asleep even though I've taken my nighttime meds (which include a pain medication that doubles as an anxiety medication and is known to cause drowsiness but is not a controlled substance) plus over the counter nausea medicine that is known to cause drowsiness plus my opioid painkiller plus over the counter migraine pain reliever. The caffeine in the last one doesn't keep me awake so I can take it at any time of day which is convenient when headaches strike when I need to be asleep but I just wish any of this would actually do the job and relieve the pain right now. It's getting worse and when my physical pain levels escalate to 8/10 or higher, my psychiatric meds stop working and all my mental illnesses decide it's time to party. I get pretty weird and unhinged and addled and I hallucinate and experience paranoia and existential terror and despair and no perceivable blemish on my skin is safe from my hands and I wonder if the pain is actually going to kill me. So far it hasn't and to be clear I absolutely do not want it to but the question and the terror at the possibility is always there.

I have an appointment tomorrow afternoon at the place I go for mental health care, to discuss my meds. The combo I'm on right now works well enough, except when the physical pain gets out of hand. I don't think there's a psych med in the world that will make the hallucinations and horrific existentialism stop when I have a migraine, and the doctor I see here understands that because we've tried increasing my meds for that purpose and seen it didn't work.

My new community support specialist thinks it's good that I'm looking into herbal medicine (I'm mostly looking into folk remedies in the Appalachian region) and wanting to use it in combination with modern medicine, and she said she will look into some herbal medicine from her home country (she is Indian) and see what she can find for me. I really want to get my hands on a copy of that Lost Book Of Herbal Remedies as well as Forgotten Home Apothecary and see what I can find in there that might be useful to me. She did recommend turmeric and black pepper and I might actually go in the kitchen and mix some into a cup of warm oat milk just to see if it will make me feel better and help me sleep.

Since my mental health sinks into the abyss like a whale fall to be feasted upon by the horrors in the deep when I'm in extreme physical pain, I may or may not need to take a more holistic approach to my overall health. Obviously keep tending to the different things that need tending like taking the meds for the specific things I need them for, but also look into ways that can help everything. Stay on top of keeping myself adequately fed and nourished with tasty nutrient dense foods, drink teas that will boost what needs boosting, start hydrated, go to the gym with my husband and get back on my bulking and weight training, maybe even actually get some sunlight, that kind of thing.

Sometimes I feel like the only thing keeping my body functioning is my own determination to stubbornly hold onto hope out of spite, and jokes that the gods had to nerf me by giving me a defective body or else I would usurp them all. My willpower is honestly some untapped potential for great power and I need to learn to harness it to overcome everything that stands in my way. I can break free from sleep paralysis, so I know I'm capable of being more stubborn than my body's refusal to cooperate, I just need to get used to turning my willpower onto other things that I need to overpower, both internal and external.

Sigh. It's after midnight. I'm still in a lot of physical pain and I still need to go to sleep, so I think I will try the warm oat milk and tumeric.

Night night y'all, I love you and stay determined.

❤️🧡💛💚🩵💙💜