#the doctor said to gain some weight and talk to a therapist

[butnobodycame627]

sorry I feel like venting in my tags

[briefinquiries]

Luke Alvez x Reader: What You Deserve

Description: Feeling undeserving of luke's attention and affection.

Word count: 5.3k

Warnings: low self-esteem, negative self-talk, internalized fat phobia

A/N: I wrote this back when I was super insecure about my weight (i.e. this is how i felt about every guy i dated). but just saying i lowkey hate the insecure plus-sized reader trope and want to write better plus-size reader fics in the future, but this is all i have to repost for now!

You were ten when you sprained your ankle on the playground at school and wound up at the doctor’s office with your mom. The doctor was nice and distracted you from the pain in your ankle with some funny jokes. He even let you listen to your own heartbeat with his stethoscope. 

But at the end of the visit, once you had a splint on your ankle, he turned to your mom and mentioned the term overweight.  

“She’s on the high end of her age’s weight class,” he said matter-of-factly. And maybe it was just a simple matter of fact. You’d never thought much about your weight before that day. You were happy. You loved to play- especially outside. Your favorite game was capture the flag, but it didn’t matter. You were active and healthy. 

Your mom listened to his advice intently, because he was the professional after all. Who was she to question his word on your health? And when you get home you were immediately placed on what she calls a diet. 

“That means no more ice cream after dinner, and we’re going to cut back on the popcorn, too.”

And maybe the doctor was right, you started to think, as you took a long look at yourself in the full length mirror behind the bathroom door that very same night. You pinched the skin protruding from your stomach and watched as the fat around your thighs jiggled. Maybe you were too big, too fat. You thought of your friends at school and for the first time, (but certainly not the last), you found yourself wondering, why don’t I look like them?

“The diet will help,” your mom told you reassuringly.   

Except it doesn’t. Instead, you wound up gaining more weight, this time at a rapid pace, because you’ve found that when Mom says you can’t have ice cream after dinner, you wind up sneaking into the kitchen after she’s gone to bed and eating it anyway. But you don’t stop there. You eat some of the watermelon that’s left in the fridge, too, and some crackers from the cupboard. Just enough from each box so that she doesn’t notice, but enough altogether, that you go to bed with a full, aching stomach. 

This becomes a pretty standard part of your nightly routine until your mom caught you digging through the pantry one night, while she had come downstairs quietly for a glass of water.  

The look on her face was shock, followed quickly by disgust. You felt embarrassed and ashamed and humiliated. 

“I can’t believe you’ve been doing this,” then, “it’s no wonder you’re gaining all that weight.”

…

You’ve always had a difficult time loving yourself, you’ve always looked in the mirror and not necessarily liked what looked back at you. Sure, there were days where you thought to yourself, I look pretty today. But in the back of your mind there was always that voice that would add, for a fat person. 

When you’re in your twenties, you finally break the habitual pattern of binge eating that you’d been doing since you were a kid. As you ticked off the number of days it had been since a binge, you sighed. You really would have thought that by stopping consistently overindulging, you’d lose the weight. But that wasn’t the case. Instead, your body has plateaued. No more dramatic gains or losses- it just is. The weight, for the most part, stayed on.  

By your thirties, you’d come to an understanding, a blind acceptance, with your body. You didn’t always like it, but you appreciated it. Neutrality, your therapist had encouraged. And that was good enough. 

Regardless, you had other things going for you besides your looks and your weight. You had a great job and infinite career goals to focus on. Not everything had to be about being beautiful and desirable, you learned.  

…

Your favorite thing about being part of the BAU were your coworkers. You never expected how close you’d get to them, but before you knew it, they felt more like your family than anything else. Something about constantly facing life-threatening situations with one another created an everlasting bond encased in mutual trust. 

You and the rest of the team had a rare evening off, which normally, you’d spend waiting skeptically by your phone, convinced that you’d get called in for a case any minute. But not tonight, Emily had promised. All cases were on hold until the morning. You were sitting at home, contemplating what to do with your precious time when the text came through.  

It was Tara messaging the group chat, asking if anyone was up for drinks and a night out. It didn’t take long before Luke’s name came flashing across your screen next. It was impossible to ignore the butterflies fluttering rampantly in your stomach as you read the words that he’s typed. 

I’m in, he said simply.  

Luke was the newest member to have joined the team. Just months prior, he transferred to the BAU from the Fugitive Task Force. As soon as Emily brought him into the conference room, you knew all bets were off. He was tall and handsome, with a clean cut, thick beard and dark skin. While he was given personalized introductions, you had noticed his bicep flexing as he extended his arm out to shake everyone’s hands. When he was introduced to you, his large hand engulfing yours and his dark eyes scanned the length of you, and you knew instantly that Luke Alvez was a catch.  

It was pointless and childish and arbitrary, and you knew it. But you couldn’t shake it, no matter how hard you tried- no matter how many times you told yourself he’d never be into a girl like you. A fat girl like you, the voice in your head said. You tried to challenge that voice- fought back and argued with it occasionally just like your therapist had encouraged, but it still found ways of insisting that you weren’t worthy of attention or affection from someone like Luke. 

So, before your insecurities could convince you to decline Tara’s invite that night, you typed back a quick, I’m in, too. 

…

It turned out most of the team decided to join your night out. And it was fun, or it would have been, if not for the critic in your head being abnormally loud.  

Look how skinny JJ looks in that top- you could never pull that off. 

Don’t eat the nachos, they’ll think you’re fat. 

Eat the nachos, because if you don’t, they’ll know that you know you’re fat. 

As always, it was exhausting and all consuming- a never ending battle in your own mind. And while you knew your team didn’t give a shit if you ate the damn nachos or not, you couldn’t stop obsessing over it.  

You tried your best to enjoy yourself- to push those thoughts to the back of your mind, but it took effort. 

Tara had picked the spot, it was a small pub that serves drinks and food. There was music, but not so loud that you couldn’t hear each other talk. You sipped your vodka lemonade, the straw pinched between your thumb and pointer finger, and watched as Emily and JJ were taking on Rossi and Matt in a game of pool.  

Across from you sat Tara and Spencer. They were having an in depth conversation about Jean Piaget, when suddenly, Luke slid into the empty booth seat beside you. Your senses were instantly overwhelmed momentarily by his cologne, strong but not overpowering. His arm brushed yours, the warmth from his skin sending an electrical current through your entire body. You tensed up, if not just from the shock of it all. But as soon as you let your guard down, the voice in your head crept back in. He can feel how fat your arm is- pull away. So you did. 

If he noticed, he didn’t comment. Instead he smiled, his white teeth on full display. “Having fun?” he asked. 

You took another sip of your lemonade and nodded. “Yeah, it’s nice to have a night away from..” your voice trailed off as you thought of the word. 

“Crime? Murder?” Luke smirked. “Serial killers?”

You chuckled, “How about all of the above?”

Luke nodded. “They say crime never sleeps, but we finally will tonight.” He set his drink down and scratched his beard in contemplation. “I’m thinking at least eight hours tonight.”

“Eight hours?” you gawked, “You’re living large!”

Luke laughed. There was a brief pause in the chatter, and you took another sip of your drink awkwardly. You were about to make a joke about the competitive pool game going on in front of you between Rossi and JJ, when Luke leaned over and said quietly, “You look really nice tonight.”

You faltered, you didn't know how to answer, and you couldn’t even bring yourself to look up at Luke’s gaze, because you weren’t sure you could handle it. And while you knew that you should say thank you, you only curled into yourself as if what Luke said was just a snide, nasty remark. Compliments like that were so foreign to you and you felt like you didn’t deserve them, so you had a hard time believing that what Luke had to say was actually genuine. You knew he wasn’t the type of person to ever poke fun at another, but wasn’t that what made the most sense? He certainly wasn’t hitting on you- so maybe it was a pity remark, or just a way to fill the awkward silence. 

You ended up just offering him a curt smile, pretending that you didn’t see the way his face fell. 

…

You were happy most of the time. Not as carefree as some on the team, but still. You joked with Tara and Emily and had meaningful conversations with Spencer. You asked Dave about his weekends and listened with intent as Matt told you stories about his infinite amount of kids.  

But then there were days where you’re nowhere near that feeling. 

There were bad days. And when they came, they were always so sudden and unexpected, it almost took your breath away. 

You were away on a case with the team in Colorado Springs when you had your first really bad day in a long time.  

The case, for the most part, kept you busy, and for a while you were able to ward off the negative thoughts. Instead of fixating on how worthless you felt, you thought about the four victims that had gone missing in the area, you thought of the Unsub and ways your team could find them. You thought about ME reports and patterns in each abduction, it was enough of a puzzle that you were able to stay occupied.  

But when you were back at the hotel, the rest of your team in their own rooms, and left to your own thoughts, that’s when the quiet consumed you.  

As a child, you learned that the one thing-the only thing- that helped when you were feeling this overwhelming sense of anxiety and dread, was to binge. It helped you stuff the negative thoughts so deep down within yourself, that for at least a little while, you were numb to all the pain. 

You knew you shouldn’t- you hadn’t in so long. But just this one time would be okay, right? Only this once, just to feel a little better, and then you wouldn’t do it again. 

The battle inside your own head raged on. You took deep breaths, you tried to journal what you were feeling, but the feeling didn't subside. Only when there was a knock at your door, and you were forced to pull yourself back to reality, did the argument get placed on the backburner. You blinked back tears that you didn’t even realize were there before hastily making your way to the hotel door. 

“J-just a minute,” you tried to make your voice sound normal, like the debate going on inside your mind about what you were about to do would be obvious to whoever was at the door. You quickly wiped your cheeks and brushed your wrinkled shirt off before hoisting it open. 

“Hi,” you managed to smile as you opened the door. 

Luke was on the other side, to your surprise, holding two brown paper bags and a couple of bottled drinks. 

“Hey,” Luke answered, his eyes lingering on your face for a brief moment. You wondered if he could tell you’d been crying. 

“What’s up?” you drawled, as if to politely ask, why the hell are you knocking at my door at eleven pm?

“Everyone else was asleep and I was hungry-” he held up the bag of what was apparently food and shrugged. “Except, I bought way too much, I’ll never eat it all. Are you hungry?”

You gave him a confused look. “I-”

“It’s just burgers, some chicken and some fries, nothing fancy- but I didn’t want to eat alone and I saw your light on..”

You sighed, but then stepped to the side, a gesture for him to come in. Luke gave you a relieved look before entering your room. He headed to the bed, which was the only place to sit. 

“Do you mind?” he asked, motioning towards the mattress. 

You shook your head, “No, go for it.”

You closed the door behind him and joined Luke, barely noticing that the dread in your stomach from earlier had been replaced by a light, fluttering sensation. 

As Luke began unloading the greasy food from the bag, you hesitated. Was this a trick? Was he secretly trying to see how much food you could put away? Was he going to go back and tell the team how much you’d eaten?  

Luke picked up on your apprehension. 

“Is everything okay?”

You don’t answer quickly enough before he asked, “What is it? What’s wrong?”

Goddamn these intuitive profilers. 

“Nothing,” you said.  But somehow, Luke heard the lie. 

“I know I’m the new guy,” he said, “and it’s probably gonna take some time before you trust me, I know that. But I want you to know you can talk to me.”

“Yeah.. it-it’s nothing,” you managed to say, because you couldn’t talk. Not about this and not yet. Maybe not ever. 

“Okay,” Luke nodded. “Sometimes, it’s tough being the new guy. I can see how close you guys all are and I just want to be a part of that eventually, you know?” His eyes bore into your own and you caught a glimpse of the sincerity behind his words, and that was when you started to feel guilty for ever thinking he was here to make fun of you. Luke was here for a friend, for comfort of his own.  

You sat on the bed next to Luke and took a fry from the basket. “You are part of it.” You assured him. “Everyone here adores you.”

Me included, is what you didn’t say. 

“You wouldn’t be included in our group chat if we didn’t.”

That made Luke smile, his dimple evident in his cheek.  

He stayed in your room for a while, the two of you laughing and talking throughout the night. You never realized how much you didn’t know about Luke.  Like that he had a dog, for example, or that he grew up in Arizona and moved around a lot once he joined the military. He kept you laughing, his jokes and sarcasm thrown intermittently through his speech.  

You shared the chicken and fries with him, not even feeling self conscious when you reached for more to put on your plate. You were too wrapped up in whatever story Luke was telling and the way his eyes lit up as he talked about the things that interested him, to be insecure. 

Luke took the last drink of his bottled water before sighing. “I suppose I should head back to my room, and try to get a little sleep.” He lifted his arm and looked at the watch on his wrist. “I’m definitely not getting my eight hours tonight,” he laughed. 

You nodded in agreement, the two of you standing up in sync, and you walked Luke to the door. 

Luke stepped into the hallway before turning to face you. “Thanks for the company,” he said.

You smiled, “Thanks for the food.”

There was a brief, awkward silence, where neither one of you knew what to do next. But then, it happened quickly. One minute, you were studying the way Luke’s warm, brown eyes were trained on you, and then, before you could predict what would happen next, he stepped forward, one hand planting itself firmly on your hip and the other cupping your chin. He paused briefly, like he was giving you the chance to pull away. But you didn’t- and so the next thing you knew, Luke was pulling you closer to his body and his lips were pressing against your own, their warmth spreading the entirety of your body.  

Fat, fat, fat- your mind suddenly screamed. You suddenly became hyper-aware of his fingers digging into the soft, fleshy part of your hip, and wondered if he’d be repulsed by what he felt. But if he was, he didn’t make it obvious. 

There had to be a catch, you thought- some alternative motive for him to be kissing you like this. Guys like Luke didn’t go after girls like you. Fat girls like you, the voice said. 

He just wants sex.  

He’s not thinking straight. 

He’ll regret this tomorrow. 

You pulled away, breathlessly, your heart suddenly racing. Before Luke could suspect that something was wrong, you offered him your best smile. “I should get to bed,” you explained. 

Luke could sense the shift in your tone, you imagined that he wanted to ask what’s wrong, but you were already stepping away from him. Instead he nodded, trying to hide his confusion. “Okay, yeah. G-goodnight.”

“Night,” you whispered before shutting the door. 

…

Luke hoped he hadn’t fucked up.  

That was his first thought as soon as he saw the door close in his face. He bit his lips, they still tasted like you, and slowly backed away.  

His feet drummed against the cheap carpet floor of the hotel as he paced the few doors down to his own room.  

He really thought you’d liked him- thought you’d reciprocated the kiss even.  But judging by the look on your face when you closed the door, he thought that he might be terribly mistaken. 

He didn’t get his eight hours of sleep.  

In fact, he barely got any. Instead, he spent the night trying to figure out where the hell he could have gotten things so wrong.  

When Luke’s phone started buzzing loudly, he felt exhausted and not even close to ready for the inevitably long day ahead.  

Regardless, Luke got ready quickly. The one conclusion that he had come to after contemplating all night was that he wanted to find you and clear the air.  Despite his obvious feelings for you that were now right out in the open, he couldn’t risk your friendship, or making things awkward at work. Once he was showered and dressed, Luke departed the hotel in search of some coffee. 

He remembered that you liked it hot, with just cream and a hint of cinnamon.  This would be his peace offering, an apology for crossing the line, the promise that it wouldn’t happen again. 

…

You were answering a text from Emily on your phone, directing you to go to the ME office, when you heard a voice calling your name.  

Your head snapped up, and there, sure enough, like he was waiting for you in the lobby, Luke came jogging over. In his outstretched arm was a cup of coffee. 

“Hey.”

For a moment, you wondered if maybe Luke really was into you. A kiss one night and coffee the next morning? Surely that meant he wasn’t just looking for a hookup, right? 

You accepted his offering with a smile. “What’s this?” you asked dumbfoundedly.  Could you really be this lucky? Could he actually be interested in you? The butterflies in your stomach started flying rampantly as you quickly got your hopes up. 

“I wanted to apologize-” he said, his head falling, like he was ashamed. “For last night.”

Your heart sank. 

“I crossed the line, I didn’t mean to make you uncomfortable. Your friendship means a lot to me-”

And there it was. You were no stranger to the friendship line. Guys used it all the time as a way out.  After going on dates, after hookups- it was always the same response from them when they weren’t interested- I like you but I don’t want to risk our friendship. I really just want to be friends. I’m not ready for a relationship, can we just be friends?

To you that translated as, you’re not good enough for me.  

You were a fool for ever getting your hopes up- for ever thinking that someone like Luke could actually be interested in someone like you. 

You took the coffee and tried not to meet his eager gaze.  

“Don’t worry about it,” is all you could manage to croak out. 

Luke could sense the shift in your tone. “I really am sorry,” he said. 

But you shook your head, and feigned your best smile. You backed away from him, not wanting him to see the glistening tears evident in your eyes.  

Stupid, stupid, stupid, your mind was screaming at you. “It’s fine,” you said instead, your voice cracking slightly just as you turned to leave the hotel lobby. 

…

Luke knew he had fucked up.  

The peace offering that he had made was nothing short of a disaster, and now he’d have to come up with another way to make up for what he’d done. 

That much was obvious as he was left standing alone in the hotel lobby, gazing at the doors you’d just walked out of. 

... 

Three days later, on the jet ride home, Luke could barely get you to even look at him. Not that he had made much of an effort, but still. He wanted to give you space. Hadn’t he done enough damage already? 

He knew he’d have to think of a way to talk to you about what had happened.  Maybe if he just explained himself, you’d understand. 

But how was he supposed to talk to you when you wouldn’t even look at him?

He finally got his chance when the jet landed and the team was back at the BAU. He found you at your desk, hunched over a stack of paperwork. Rossi, JJ, Tara, and Spencer had already left for the night. Matt was gathering his belongings from his desk and heading out the door, meanwhile Emily was barricaded in her office with the door shut. If Luke was ever going to get a minute alone with you- it was now.  

He shuffled cautiously over towards your desk. You gave him no indication that you’d heard him at all, but nonetheless, he cleared his throat before getting too close. He didn’t want to startle you.  

You didn’t even look up from what you’re writing. 

“Hey,” he said. “Can I talk to you for a second?” 

“I can’t right now,” your tone is flat.“I have this whole stack I need to do before tomorrow.”

Luke felt frustrated and dismissed, but he bit his tongue. Instead of pushing, he grabbed half the stack of paperwork from atop your desk and took it back to his own desk. Before you could protest or argue, he sat down and flipped open the first file, ready to work. 

…

The entire floor was eerily quiet. Besides the occasional clicking of keys and scratching of a pen, you and Luke worked in complete silence. 

You felt bad. You really didn’t have to finish all of this paperwork by tomorrow.  That was just your excuse to avoid talking with Luke. But now, it was almost 1 AM and you were nearly finished with it all. 

You heard his pen click and you knew that was his indicator that he was done with his stack. Your heart clenched in your chest anxiously. You heard him approach your desk. There was a sudden thump when he threw the stack back where he found it. 

“There,” he announces. “Can we talk now?”

The man was persistent. 

You set your pen down lightly and sighed. Admitting defeat, you nodded. 

Luke pulled Spencer’s chair out from his desk, which was right next to yours.  He scooted it closer to you. 

Your gaze remained hyper focused on your hands, which were cupped and laid neatly in your lap. Luke ducked his head down, trying to catch your eyes. Begrudgingly, you looked up and made eye contact with him. 

“Listen,” his voice was soft, “I am really sorry for kissing you the other night.”

You groaned frustratedly. “Will you stop apologizing?” you finally said. “I get it, you didn’t want to kiss me. It’s fine- But I don’t need this- this pity.”   

Luke instantly looked taken aback by your frustration, but it was the most you’ve said to him in the last three days, so he took it all in. As your words played back in his mind, he frowned. “I never said I didn’t want to kiss you.”

“Well- whatever you did or didn’t say, I get it, okay? I get that it was a mistake and it didn’t mean anything. It’s fine.”

But Luke continued shaking his head. “I never said any of that-” he protested.  

You remained quiet, but he continued. “I never said any of that. Is that how you feel about it?” he asked, hands clasped tightly together. 

You shrugged. Your cheeks felt hot- you were insecure with Luke’s eyes trained so intently on you. You wished you could just forget this whole thing happened, wished you could just disappear. But Luke kept pushing.  

“Is that how you feel?” he repeated. There was a brief pause. “Because that’s not how I feel,” he said. “I don’t regret kissing you. I like you and I wanted to do it. And I thought you wanted to, too. If I had known you didn’t- I never would have done it. I regret making you uncomfortable, and I regret making things awkward between us, but I don’t regret the kiss.”

Luke’s words swam around in your head, but they were a jumbled mess. You tried to piece them together slowly, in order to process what he was saying. Did he just say he liked you?

There was a part of you that felt like this whole thing had just been a cruel joke.  But yet, here he was- sitting in front of you with the most sincere eyes you’d ever seen, and suddenly, you started to wonder if maybe this was real. Maybe, for God-only-knows what reason, Luke actually had feelings for you- was actually attracted to you. 

“You like me?” you asked, your voice low. 

Luke laughed- like actually laughed- and when you looked up at him, his eyes were squinting as his lips were curled into a wide grin. “Uh, yeah- I thought I’d made that blatantly clear.”

But you shook your head. “I- I didn’t know..”

“I kissed you-” he said, like it’s obvious. 

“I know, but I figured you just wanted to hookup- I didn’t think you actually liked me-”

“But I brought you dinner- and coffee. Did you think I just do that for everyone?”

You remained guarded, because you still couldn’t entirely trust this. “Yeah,” you said. “Kind of, I guess.”

“Okay,” Luke nodded. “Let me spell it out for you then. I like you.” He said each word carefully and slowly. “And I liked kissing you. And I’d really like to date you. And if you don’t feel the same, that’s okay. But I’d still like to be friends, and I’d really like for things not to be awkward at work.”

You stared in awe, not able to believe any of this was really happening. You wanted to ask why. Why did this handsome, kind, honest man like you? What made you even remotely good enough for him? 

But you didn’t ask. Because did it matter right now?

“Your turn,” Luke urged. “Since I seem to have such a hard time reading you, can you spell it out for me too?”

You hesitated. You’d never flat out told someone how you felt about them. You were insecure and terrified of rejection. And even though Luke had flat out told you rejection wasn’t a possibility, you were still embarrassed to tell him how you felt. You didn’t like how vulnerable that made you- how open to the hurt that made you. 

But Luke’s smile was so reassuring and kind, you tried not to think too much before telling him quietly, “I like you too. I have for a while, actually.”

He chuckled, which you think might just be your new favorite sound. “So why’d you pull away the other night?” he asked longingly.  “Why have you been so distant?”

“Because- I didn’t think someone like you would ever be into someone like me.”

The moment the words left your lips, you regretted it. And when Luke’s face contorted into a look of confusion, and then hurt, you regretted it even more. 

“What do you mean?” he asked.

You fumble with your words, because you weren’t sure how to explain. “I just thought someone like you would be more apt to go after someone that looked more like Tara or JJ or Emily is all.”

“What’s the common denominator there? Because Tara, JJ, and Emily look nothing alike-”

“You know what I mean,” you protested. “I thought someone like you would be more apt to go for someone-” you paused before saying the word, “someone skinnier than- well... me.” 

Luke’s face fell, but you laughed it off nervously. “Just makes me wonder why, is all,” you said. 

“I like you-” he assured you. “I like you because you’re smart and you’re thoughtful.”

Luke’s managed to scoot his chair increasingly closer to you without you noticing. When you looked down, you realized that your knees were practically touching. The first thing that ran through your mind is, oh my God, your thighs are bigger than his. But you shook the thought away. You weren’t going to let that voice ruin this- not again. 

“You’re intuitive- the best profiler.”

The way Luke was looking at you made everything else melt away. All you saw was him and those unimaginably warm eyes. 

“You’re kind and generous and you make me laugh,” he paused. “You’re beautiful.”

You remembered how soft his lips felt against yours when you kissed days ago, and all you wanted was to taste him again. 

Thankfully, you didn’t have to wait long for your wish to come true. Luke leaned in, closing the gap between you two. Just when he was only inches from your face, he grinned. “I could keep going, you know?”

You ignored him and his cheeky grin and instead you leaned forward, and without thinking, cupped his face between your hands and pulled him closer.  

His lips were exactly as you remembered, soft and smooth and all-encompassing. Luke’s hand landed just above your knee and when you started to wonder whether or not your leg felt fat underneath his touch, you were able to silence it. Who the hell cares? Certainly not Luke, that much you were learning quickly. In fact, you wondered if maybe he even liked it. The thought passed quickly, and you were able to focus on the man in front of you instead- the one who was quickly claiming you as his own. The one you deserved. 

[r3d-m3dic]

alr alr headcanon time. Under the cut because this is long. I could ramble about this game for hours. This is probably just gonna be about Lukas and Aiden. Maybe some Maya and Gill. Also it's probably a disorganized mess.

Edit: hey hey! So i rewatched a mcsm play through, and have thought about some of the head canons i put here. I'll cross out ones I no longer believe, or add on a bit to make them make sense!

First up

Lukas headcanons (this section will also include some family things)

Transgender omnisexual.

Him and Aiden used to date.

Lukas and Aiden knew each other since Elementary school. Lukas met Maya and Gill in high school, and introduced them to Aiden.

Lukas went to college, but it was briefly paused due to the witherstorm bullshit.

Lukas is 20 during the events of season one.

His parents are divorced, and his father got custody. His mother got custody of Erik, his brother (my oc). They divorced in Lukas's sophomore year.

His father is a doctor.

His mother owns a barber shop, and always cut his hair at home.

When Lukas's parents divorced, him and his brother rarely saw each other, and drifted apart. Especially since Erik was always off doing some silly adventure with Lex (other OC. Jesse's younger sibling.)

In the beginning of the divorce however, Lukas was always with his brother, knowing what would likely happen. Him, and the rest of The Ocelots are very protective of Erik.

Lukas has always wanted to be a writer, and has been writing since he was in elementary school. He typically used to write fantasy and super heroes. His favorite author is Tolkien, and he loves LOTR.

Doesn't yell much. He prefers a mature discussion rather then an angry scream filled argument.

Slightly insecure about his weight. The moment he thinks he's gaining any weight, he'll barely eat.

When him and Axel were finally on good terms with each other, Lukas actually talked to Axel about this. Axel has helped a bunch. I love me some wholesome Lukas and Axel :3

After the skycity thing, when The Blazerods were in prison, Lukas insisted Jesse get Aiden a therapist. He didn't need to insist much really, Jesse was on board because Aiden very much needed mental help.

Lukas is currently on good terms with the Blazerods, he would always talk to them when they were in jail, give them food, listen. They were his friends, especially Aiden. He's gonna want to help them become better people if he can.

Had the biggest crush on Jesse during the events of season 1. This was obvious to everyone except for Jesse. Finally confessed before the events of season 2. Obviously Jesse accepted.

When the Admin was pretending to be Jesse, Lukas was absolutely heartbroken. The joy he felt when the real Jesse came back and explained the Admin Jesse wasn't actually him is crazy. He wouldn't let go of Jesse after everything calmed down.

Lukas doesn't live in Beacontown. He lives off in some small cabin.

He has two cats.

He was tiny up until high school when he got a growth spurt.

I should probably move on to Aiden now.

Aiden headcanons (this section will also include some family things.)

Most would say he's irredeemable, but I disagree. I believe that he can be redeemed, and got a chance after season 2. Lukas helped him out as said previously.

Aiden was surprised when Lukas actually wanted to help him get better, rather then ignore him and let him rot alone.

Therapy did help Aiden. He needed therapy, some help at least.

Aiden doesn't live in Beacontown. He built a house in a cave. Maya and Gill live there with him.

Whilst Maya and Gill visit Beacontown, Aiden never does. He's actually kind of scared too. Afraid he'll get shunned.

Whilst he used to be very loud on what he thinks, after season 2 he begun keeping to himself. He writes in a journal, that nobody even knows exists.

He is still in love with Lukas. But Lukas is dating Jesse, so he keeps that to himself.

Speaking of dating Lukas, nobody knew. Nobody except for Maya and Gill. Absolutely nobody else knew. And Aiden would prefer to keep it that way. Lukas never told anyone about it, not even after they broke up.

If past Aiden met current Aiden, I think he'd freak out about how he's gone soft.

Aiden's parents are not good parents. They'd rather drink until they can't think then take care of their son. This is where most of Aiden's hatred comes from. Despite how mean he was, Lukas stuck with him.

Aiden has always been an only child. He's the youngest of his cousins, on both sides of the family.

He has a Blåhaj. Yes he still sleeps with it. No, nobody knows.

Aiden dropped out of high school in his Junior year.

He would give anything to go back and stop himself from dropping out.

Aiden made the Jackets! He's incredibly talented with sewing, and making clothing. He actually made his own shirt.

His favorite member of the OG Order of The Stone is Magnus, hence the shirt. His parents refused to get one for him, that's why he made it himself.

He has not gotten taller since 7th grade. He has had that shirt since 7th grade. He still wears it, and it's somehow in mint condition.

He secretly enjoys the song It Girl, he likes it so much that it's his favorite song. He'd rather die then admit that. If you ask he'll say some rap song. He likes Kendrick. (Might be OOC but its funny)

He was an absolute menace in middle school. I mean, he still is a menace, but he reached peak menace in middle school. Only thing that topped what he did in middle school was him becoming an actual terrorist (the skycity incident).

In his sophomore year, there was a school dance. However, the rules were that women couldn't wear suits, and men couldn't wear dresses. Obviously people were mad about that, because like c'mon.. Who actually cares??

So anyways, Aiden showed up in an absolutely gorgeous dress, and Maya showed up in a full suit. Both slayed. The best Aiden had ever looked. They didn't end up getting kicked out for it, thank god.

Aiden still has that dress, it just hangs in his closet as a fun memory. It still fits him.. Well, it's a little tight.

It's a bit tight because he has gained some weight in the time between that dance, and now. He's a bit chubby.

He used to go to Endercon because he enjoyed building. But his enjoyment turned into competitiveness. Which turned toxic. Which results in him bullying the other competitors. Gill and Maya join in because it's fun. It's fun to be mean.* Lukas never joined in, but Aiden could care less. They did start having more and more arguments up to the events of season 1 episode 1.

*Little disclaimer. Whilst it may seem fun to you to be mean, it's always better to be nice. Don't get caught up in your own personal enjoyment. Consequences exist, and they're not fun.

Aiden is severely starved of physical anything really. Lukas hugged him one time and that almost made him reconsider being an asshole.

He stayed with Lukas's family a lot of his childhood.

He grew his hair out during his time rotting away in a cell, and actually liked it. So he kept long hair.

I can't really think of anything else. These might be OOC, and a lot for Aiden is after season 2 and him softening up a lot. Well, feel free to comment or reblog with your headcanons!

:3

[king-crane]

INCURABLE / TERMINAL.

In light of more talk about Batman Beyond in the rpc (good, it's fucking peak), and talking with @2ndbat (FANTASTIC BLOG GO FOLLOW), I have revamped my Incurable/Terminal verses to go from just Old Man Crane to straight up Batman Beyond.

That said, I will be outlining the general setting and the differences in both verses here! Enjoy!

NAME: Professor Jonathan Ichabod Crane SPECIES: Metahuman AGE: 68 HEIGHT: 7’10” WEIGHT: 280 lbs. OCCUPATION: Professor of Psychology at Gotham University, Professional Therapist and Psychiatrist, Career Criminal (formerly), Supervillain (formerly) AFFILIATIONS: Gotham University (formerly and currently), Di Vaio Crime Family (formerly), Quorum (formerly), Secret Society (formerly), The Injustice League (formerly) PHYSICAL DESCRIPTION: A veritable colossus of muscle, Jonathan Crane’s rehabilitation worked out far better for him than any could have ever hoped. After finally receiving proper treatment and diagnoses, Crane’s medications and fear suppressants allowed him to finally regain some sense of routine beyond getting up in the mornings and putting his body through Hell. Eating, sleeping, and exercising regularly has enhanced Crane’s physique, to the point where even at 68, the giant still seems to be in his physical prime… “seems” to be, that is. Though his hair has begun to gray and his face is showing signs of his age in the form of wrinkles and laugh lines, Crane is no less gorgeous than he was two decades prior. Crane has gone completely blind in his right eye, and still uses a prosthetic left arm and right leg thanks to injuries suffered when he was 30. MEDICAL INFORMATION: McCune-Albright Syndrome, Sleep Apnea, Asthma, Fibromyalgia, severe burn injuries, blind in right eye, missing an arm and leg, severe brain damage and nerve damage MENTAL DISORDERS: DID, Bipolar Disorder, Autism Spectrum Disorder, Generalized Anxiety Disorder, Seasonal Affective Disorder, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder

BIOGRAPHY: After a lifetime of pain and insanity, Crane's reprieve, ironically enough, only came about when the foundations of Arkham itself were shook to their very core, and he was finally assigned a new doctor. Instead of approaching Crane as though he were completely sane, the new doctor, Mannfred O'Malley (who had experience with Crane) immediately diagnosed him with DID, Bipolar Disorder, PTSD, Autism, and a slew of other diagnoses. CAT scans supported this, and Crane was immediately put on anti-psychotics, mood stabilizers, and anxiety relief medication. Crane had never been better in years, and at the age of 36, he was finally recovering. He began to sleep and eat much more regularly, and corrective surgery helped many of his physical maladies. Eventually, upon his release from Arkham, Crane stopped returning as frequently, and stopped completely once his prescriptions were moved to a regular psychiatrist in the city.

After 2 years living on his farm in good health, Crane gained an astonishing 100 pounds of muscle, no longer malnourished from his unhealthy lifestyle, and even had a growth spurt of 2 inches. Emboldened by his change, he applied once more to Gotham University, where he had taught so long ago, at the age of 40. It had been 15 years since his abrupt departure, but they still welcomed him back with open arms. At the age of 60, Jonathan Crane was now a tenured professor of psychology, winning multiple awards for his theories and experiments in regard to fear and the human mind.

And then, it all came crashing down.

On the eve of his 62nd birthday, Crane suffered from a horrible mental break - his hallucinations began to return, this time with a vengeance, and recognizing the pattern, Crane took an emergency leave of absence.

The news he received after returning to Arkham was horrid. After being physically examined, it became clear that Crane's spinal and cerebral implant, his constant companion for 55 years and a mark of Qorum's involvement in his life, had been spreading itself through his body, upgrading itself with cybernetic modifications. In addition, the fear toxin in his veins had irreparably damaged his mind, and he would suffer a complete and total cessation of brain activity soon. They could not give him an estimate of how much time he had left. Left only with the choice of how he would receive this news, Crane's path diverges.

INCURABLE.

SEEKING to prevent himself from repeating the mistakes of the past, Professor Jonathan Crane seeks treatment to prolong his life as much as possible, and experiments with the dosage on his medications, even against professional advice. Taking a sabbatical from Gotham University, Crane travels the world, looking for a cure for his condition. In distant lands, and lands not far from home, he dons the guise of a helpless old man, when in truth, he is far from it. After seeing the pain in the world, the same pain he once spent so much time contributing to, he dons the visage of "The Ward", a traveling alchemist seeking to protect the weak and the innocent, and to save problems. He frequently returns to Gotham whenever he can, even occasionally checking himself back into Arkham during particularly brutal episodes, but thanks to living frugally over many, many years, he has a good chunk of money saved up for his travels. Ironically enough, Crane is currently the closest he has ever been to activating his metagene, a feat which would completely halt his neural degradation and remove the implant, as well as halt his aging - if only he was even aware he was a metahuman.

ABILITIES: Vast intellect, resilient body, martial arts training, decades of experience, heightened awareness

WEAKNESSES: Frequent hallucinations, neural degradation, moves slow due to injuries and age

TERMINAL.

SOMETIMES it can be impossible to truly recover what one has already lost. Already cracked and fractured by his ongoing condition, Crane left his appointment with Doctor O'Malley a despondent and heartbroken man. Was this his reward, for trying to be better? He twitches, as though he can feel his body building itself up and breaking down at the same time. It isn't until his return to the city proper that he finds himself on the other end of a would-be-mugger, and he realizes nothing has changed. The Waynes, the di Vaios - even Zsasz's life had changed at the end of a blade. There was nothing to change for Crane, though. His hand shoots out before he can stop it. He breaks the criminal's hand - and then his neck. And he looks upon Gotham with a profound sadness. His past would only continue to haunt him, for as long as he let it. His mind fractures, and finally his metagene is activated... slightly. With enhanced strength, speed, and senses, but at the cost of his physical health and sanity, Crane dons the mask of Epimetheus, an amalgamation of all that he once was - Crane, Crow, Bones, Beast, and even Jonathan. He will slaughter his past, no matter how long it takes.

ABILITIES: Shapeshifting, heightened reflexes, enhanced speed, enhanced strength, semi-intangibility

WEAKNESSES: Complete loss of sanity, animalistic intellect, lack of higher thought (maybe)

[bilightningwhumper]

Mangst 2024- Day 17

<<Previous . Masterlist . Next>>

Caged Bird (Swan Lake) Masterlist

“I love you. I wish I didn't.”

Summary:

Teddie visits Rosalin at the medical center after her rescue Potential spoiler excerpt from "Caged Bird"

Notes:

Little warning needed here. Talk of strict dieting to the point of malnutrition and loss of wait, as well as hospital setting; some talk of child abuse Characters: Rosalin- Odette Teddie- Odiele Teddie's father (mentioned)- Rothbart

Teddie’s POV

The beeping of the heart monitor was the only noise to fill the silence of Rosalin’s room as Teddie walked in.

She was grateful Rosalin was still sleeping. The doctors told her that she hadn’t woken up since the operation, so the omega still didn’t know about her miscarriage.

Sitting by the bed, Teddie took Rosalin’s hand in hers. She could feel every bone and the skin was so pale it was almost translucent. It was terrifying to think about what would have happened if her father hadn’t left on a business trip. An opening like that hadn’t happened since Teddie was in high school.

What scared Teddie maybe even more than Rosalin almost dying was that this might not even hold. Her father might still be able to take her back. Even with the Huntsman group on their side, with the doctor’s records… Her father always got what he wanted. Why would Rosalin’s freedom be any different?

“You’re worth the trouble, though.” she said aloud to the sleeping girl. “If I had to do this all over again, I’d do it in a heartbeat. Preferably without you almost dying, though.”

She let out a shaky sigh, watching Rosalin’s chest rise and fall under the covers. She was so small. The doctors assured her that she wasn’t malnourished, but her body weight was only so low because of the way her father had formed Rosalin’s diet. In the simplest terms, she had been given all the nutrients she needed, but nothing to have her gain weight. And because of that, her growth had been stunted. Her hair had turned more white than blonde, thinner than it had been before she’d left. Teddie had always insisted on the same dishes, well made balanced meals, that her mother had made before her untimely passing and that Rosalin would share in that. Her father had clearly discontinued that after he’d sent her away.

Sighing again, she put her head in her hands. Her therapist had been telling her not to blame herself, that her father had hurt her as much as he'd hurt Rosalin, even if it wasn't in the same way. It made sense, with all the blank spots in her memory. Well, not truly blank. Bits and pieces still haunted her dreams. Or came back to her randomly when she was just going about her day. Memories of how he...

Pain radiated from her scalp and she moved her hands down, strands of hair between her fingers. She shook them off, wiping away a few stray tears that had started to fall. Glancing up, she made sure Rosalin was still asleep. No movement, no change.

Anything she had gone through was minimal compared to what Rosalin had been through, no matter what her therapist said. That was the truth, plain and simple. And Teddie had been a part of that, whether she'd wanted to be or not. She should have stayed, even with her father's threats. At least she would have been there.

"I love you, you know." She burst out, sudden confidence on the silence of the sleeping girl. "I wish I didn't. Because if I didn't love you, I wouldn't have left." Tears fell freely, even as she tried to stop them. "My father threatened to sell me. He said his friends would love to break in a beta. They don't get them that often, I guess." She laughed, hands shaking as she wiped away her tears, pushed her hair back on her head, not sure what to do with her hands. "He just- he would've- I don't-" Then she broke down, bursts of laughter among the tears.

Partway through her hysterical fit, she felt a hand touch her shoulder. Jolting up, she met Rosalin's soft blue eyes. Dull and tired, but they grew brighter the longer they just looked at each other. Rosalin didn't say anything, just looked at her with those wonderfully open blue eyes, searching her face for something. Then she gently tugged at what she could reach of Teddie's shirt, weak but insistent.

Unsure, Teddie moved to sit on the bed instead of the chair, wiping the last of her tears away.

Rosalin tugged at her shirt again and Teddie recognized the motion this time. It was the same one that Ros would use when they were young, when she didn't want to be alone in her nest. Before Teddie's father had decided they were too young for such antics.

Chewing on her lip, she glanced at all the medical equipment attached to her friend. "Ros, I don't think-"

"Please."

That melted her resolve instantly. Just a small simple word. And the hope and trust in Rosalin's eyes...

Carefully as she could, extremely mindful of all the wires and tubes, Teddie curled up into Rosalin's side. Resting her arm gently across Ros' stomach, she took in the scent of her best friend, finally close enough to catch it under all the medical center's neutral ones. It wasn't as sour anymore, like it was when they'd found her in that house before taking her away to safety. There were still traces, but the smell of lemongrass and the lake shore grew clearer as Teddie's eyes fluttered shut.

She was so, so tired. The doctors probably wouldn't mind if she stayed the night. After all, Ros had asked for this and it'd be distressing to both of them to be apart so soon again.

As exhaustion took over, weariness seeping into her limbs, Teddie couldn't be sure, but swore she hears a small, weak "I love you, too" before the darkness of sleep took over completely.

[faulty-writes]

Bit of a heavy request so feel free to turn it down if you don't feel comfortable writing for it. How would the BNHA boys react to finding their trans partner has self inflicted scars on their chest? You can choose the characters 🙂

[ In my last post, I had actually mentioned that I was a psychology student and as such, I know some people may dislike these kinds of requests. But I mean...they're real issues and I enjoy, in a way, helping promote awareness of them. I also love it when I get to choose the characters. So I picked some of our underrated boys. I hope you enjoy it. ]

Eijirou initially acts with concern and care when he sees the scars on your chest. "Who made you feel this way!? That's not manly at all, your body is beautiful babe!" He tries to use positive words when talking to you because he knows this is a sensitive issue and a little physical affection never hurts, so he doesn't hesitate to embrace you in his arms.

"You don't have to worry about that! This is a non-judgmental zone. You can just tell me as little or as much as you want!" Eijirou gave an encouraging smile as he sat in front of you on the floor of his bedroom or "safe zone" as he called it and remained understanding even as you explained the reason behind your self-inflicted scars and the possible body dysphoria issues you were experiencing.

"Well, maybe you shouldn't think of them as scars and more like manly marks! After all, we heroes get scars all the time from the dangerous battles we face! Yours is no different and you're just another brave hero!" He hoped his words would help you embrace a sense of worth just as he embraced you in another hug.

While Eijirou doesn't have the best book smarts, he tries to educate himself on the matter of transgender persons and self-harm behavior. But he ultimately finds it too confusing and settles for being your emotional support partner instead. After all, with skin as tough as his, he'd happily be your rock.

Whenever he noticed you were getting antsy or looking in the mirror too much, he'd try to distract you by suggesting the two of you do activities you enjoyed, or he'd start doing random things like lifting weights to gain your attention and make you laugh.

He tries to respect the fact that you refuse to see professional help and that your scars are embarrassing to you. "Well, what if I go with you? After all, I could never let anyone, not even a therapist talk about you the wrong way. Whaddya say?" He'd do anything for you, and if the two of you had to go through therapy together, so be it.

Being a student of medical welfare, he immediately examines the damage of the self-inflicted scars on your chest much like a doctor would. After ensuring they were clean and stable, he demands "Why the hell did you do this to yourself?" While his words come off as insensitive you know he tends to get emotional and that his anger came out of the concern he felt for you.

After his initial anger wears off, he grows determined to understand the reason behind your self-harm. "So...how long have you felt like you needed to do this?" He tried to be considerate and gentle with his questions like any healthcare professional would.

He understood more than anyone how exhausting it could be to try and handle your emotions by yourself and what happened when they were finally released. "You can stay here as long as you want, I just want to hold you until everything is okay," he said, embracing you tightly in his lap but the truth was, he didn't trust what you'd do once you were alone.

He knew that your position wasn't easy, being transgender had its own set of problems just like anything else. Since finding out about your self-harm tendencies, he tried to remind you every day how much he loved you and how terrible he'd feel if he lost you.

He didn't want to come off as overbearing, but he also didn't want to avoid setting precautions in place in case you engaged in self-harm behavior. So, he uses a bit of first aid to encircle medical wraps around your chest, just loose enough for you to breathe and serve as a reminder. If by chance, you did engage in self-injury, at least the wraps could absorb the mess to some degree until he could clean it.

While he wouldn't push you to get help, he did research about the challenges of transgender individuals and sought out resources and support groups for you. "Some of these groups are anonymous and they may help," he suggested, but if not. He would continue to assist and support you the best he could.

"This is quite an injustice that such beauty and perfection is damaged by these scars," Neito's reaction was more lackluster when he saw the self-inflicted scars on your chest by accident. Yes, it seemed he was a little too impatient waiting for you to change and as such, he walked in on you topless.

"There's no need to worry, your dear Phantom Thief will never allow anyone to so wrongfully judge you if they happen to find out what lays underneath that shirt, etched into that still perfect skin of yours," he stated, embracing you. The fact he treated your self-injurious behavior and your transgender status with such acceptance was certainly comforting.

"You may step in now," he instructed, and you were bewildered that he had transformed his room into some sort of makeshift therapy office. "Heh, heh. Do you truly think I trust anyone but myself to aid you in this dilemma? Why go through the hassle of therapy when I can provide it to you," he insisted and while this was unusual, you did find yourself exploring the debts of your emotions and issues with him.

"My, my. Don't squirm now, else you're going to make me miss one," Neito in a word, was bold and he thought that pinning you against the bed and exposing your scarred chest and kissing every scar was some type of radical new method to help you. While overwhelming, you couldn't help but feel embarrassed at the amount of attention he was giving you.

"There you are! Don't try to sneak off now! We have things to do!" Neito took extreme methods to engage in activities that had everything to do with self-care and mindfulness. Usually, this meant the two of you would have a spa day or participate in another relaxing activity to promote your self-esteem.

"Now, now, don't be ashamed. You look beautiful, ravaging even!" His positive affirmations never ceased to amaze you and his overall effort to make you feel beautiful even when your scars were exposed only proved his undying dedication to you.

[harrison-abbott]

Michaela and Me

My sister Michaela had had problems with her sleeping for years. So she went to the doctor and the doctor prescribed her a form of sleeping pills. They worked at first. Michaela would call me up and tell me that she had managed to sleep for a full eight hours – for the first time since she was a girl. ///// Then she began to sleep in for work. And this wasn’t good. And when she turned up to work her manager noticed that she was groggy and not functioning as well as she used to. He asked her what was up. Michaela said she didn’t know. She wasn’t aware of the changes of her body. And thought it would only be a temporary thing. ///// And then at the weekends she started to take a sleeping pill in the afternoons, because she wasn’t at work. Michaela lived on her own and didn’t have any kids or a cat or dog. She did have a boyfriend. Then her boyfriend stopped coming around. Michaela called me, again, and told me that he’d broken up with her. She was crying. It wasn’t like Michaela to cry, but I understood heartbreak pretty well and so I consoled her as best as I could. ///// Then her boss gave her a disciplinary because she didn’t turn up to work when it was a super important day. It was a temporary warning. Michaela messaged me about it. She said, “I took two of the pills the night before instead of one. And it knocked me out. But I won’t do it again. My boss likes me so he won’t fire me. Haha.” ///// I couldn’t really judge Michaela for what was happening because I’ve had an issue with beer for most of my adult life. And for most of those long, long years, I have kept it secret from other people. I find it embarrassing, and I do it on my own, in my bedroom, mostly, in the dark. I didn’t criticise Michaela. But it wasn’t as if I was a champion of sobriety and that I could advise her, either. So what I suggested she do was book some time off of work, and that she could come and visit me for a while. I lived by the sea. It was nice here. Maybe the beach air would do her some good. ///// She agreed. And she came over to stay with me. ///// She’d gained quite a bit of weight. Again, not judging. Because I had as well, in recent times. It was weird because when we were little we were both so skinny. Michaela is my older sister and we’ve always been quite close. ///// In the afternoon she would start to shake. I first noticed it when we were out walking on the beach. Her fingers would tremble and her shoulders would spasm and she seemed agitated. And she wasn’t rude or anything; she was distracted and couldn’t link in with the conversation.

When she got back to the flat she would disappear into the bathroom for ten minutes. I knew what she was doing. And then she’d come out of the bathroom in a relaxed manner. And suggest that we watch a movie, or that we cook some food. If we watched a movie, she would zone out and her eyes would go all gooey; and if she was preparing the food for the meal, she couldn’t cut the vegetables fast and she would sway about as she stood over the counter. ///// I thought about seeing whether she wanted to go and see a therapist about things. I looked up the sleeping pill drug she was taking on the internet. None of the pharmaceutical information made much sense to me. And, by the way, I was drinking throughout this period as well. And the alcohol made me affably naïve that there wasn’t a louder problem. ///// She took her pills in the afternoon and before she went to sleep and probably in the morning too. And I drank from the morning up until the afternoon, and when she slept, I did as well, and at night it seemed like we had achieved something by the fact that we were still alive. ///// I loved my sister. She was funny. And intelligent, too. We talked about books and she told me entertaining stories from her travels. It was just that those hours when she zonked out with the pills kinda cut off the chapters from each of her days, so that she was like an abridged version of herself. And, again, it was the exact same with me. ///// There was one day when it was particularly hot. We walked along the beach and the sunlight dazed out senses and we went back home early. We slept early. Slept into the afternoon. ///// I woke up around six in the evening, feeling like crap. And then I went into the living room. Michaela was on the sofa. She’d forgotten to hide her tub of sleeping pills and it was right there on the table. She was lain on her side, awkwardly, with her elbow under her back. So I moved her on to her back, in fear that she might puke up. And I went down to the shop in town and bought two crates of beer and I came back. ///// When I came back home, Michaela was up. Sitting up on the couch. I had an opened beer in my pocket and I came in and looked at her and she looked up at me. She started crying. So I went and sat next to her. I was afraid that she might smell the beer off me. The tub of sleeping pills was there on the table. Was she crying because I had seen it? I put my arms around her. She ducked her head into my torso. And she shook and shook. And she said, “How did I ever get to this stage?” I gulped, as I was trying not to cry as well. And I didn’t want to say anything in case my voice would crack and so all I did was hold her tighter and closer. And she moved in to me harder as well. So I think that helped a little bit.

[sentimentalmachine]

I'm so heartbroken. My brother's cat died today. I loved that cat so much and my brother loved him even more. He was only 8. He was such a sweet guy. I haven't seen him in so long and now I never will. We were supposed to have a family Halloween party today but my brother didn't make it because he was taking the cat to the emergency vet. I didn't know until I got home and saw facebook what the outcome was. I really wanted it to be that he would be ok, not gone. Ever since my cousin very unexpectedly died a few months ago, we all decided we needed to make more effort to see each other. We all regretted how little we had seen him these past several years with him living overseas. So my other cousin, his brother, put together this Halloween party. The only time I've seen him since before covid was at the funeral and memorial when we were focused on other things. But today the first thing he said to me was "is everything ok, you're looking really frail" and that kind of broke my heart. Because it's really the first thing people notice about me now. I knew I was looking frail, but hearing so many people point it out lately hurts. I'm just a frail sickly old lady now, and that's all anyone sees when they look at me. People at doctors and physical therapy talk about how tiny I am, how I have no substance to my body as if pointing out the obvious is supposed to do any good? I've tried so so hard to become well these past few years but this year more than any other time of my life the sickness just shows on me like flashing red lights. And no one can find out why and nothing makes me better and I'm trying everything I possibly can and going into so much debt it scares me but nothing helps and sometimes I just get so tired of trying I don't want to even try anymore. I had to get a mammogram this week to recheck this suspicious spot they have been keeping an eye on, the lady who administered it was so concerned about my appearance and loss of tissue since my last scan. I told her I'd been sick and hadn't been able to gain weight and she just looked at me with this sad worried look and in a sad worried tone said "you can't gain any weight"? and I just shook my head. Thankfully for the first time in years my scan was all clear though so at least I don't have to get another one for awhile. But it was just another incidence of how horrible I must appear to others. People who don't know me. It's not just in my head anymore. It's real and it's out there. And I don't understand why I can't gain weight. I've always been able to gain weight. (except in 2013/14 when I was recovering from a difficult surgery) I never thought I'd reach middle age and be tiny and frail, this is the time of life women usually put on weight. It makes no sense. Then my GI visit was so bad he thinks it's just IBS. Despite all my symptoms and how sick I look, despite IBS shouldn't affect your weight, make your stomach swell and bleed, suddenly be allergic to things you were never allergic to, loss of muscle and so much more. I BEGGED him to at least test me for sibo, but he doesn't think it could possibly be that. And maybe it's not but it's something they haven't checked for and is easy to check for but I'm pretty sure he just thinks I'm crazy. He actually bulged his eyes out when I told him I just wanted to be able to eat more types of food and gain weight, as if it was some unreasonable thing to want. I like my 2 physical therapists a lot though, they recognize how bad my condition is and are trying hard to help me improve. But I haven't been making any improvements and I'm scared they are going to have to dismiss me. My main PT person assures me that it will take a very long time to see improvements with how bad my condition is but since I can't find someone who will even try to find out exactly what causes me to be in this horrible condition will it even be possible to improve with any amount of time?

[peachel-ayam]

my first post on this personal blog

on being ridiculously skinny — I’m not proud of it

All I want to do is gain weight

Disclaimer: This post was initially published on my Medium account under the "Bitchy" publication, and received hundred readers per week. Given that this is my personal journaling blog, I wanted to share it here as well. You can find the original post here.

(image by me)

Toxic body positivity doesn’t only apply to those who are overweight; I’ve experienced it too — an underweight individual.

People would tell me, “You should be grateful for God’s gift,” or “Being thin is a favor,” or even claim, “All women want a body like yours.”

But at the same time, I also received tons of, “Whoa, you look like you haven’t eaten in months,” or “You are thinner than paper,” or the worst of all, “If there’s a windstorm, it can be strong enough to push and float you.”

These words echoed through my mind, causing me to question my self-worth and validity.

“You MUST accept your body or you will never be happy”

I don’t want to invalidate all the words they say because I do feel concerned about my weight. I’ve noticed that I’m significantly underweight compared to others around me.

My clothes seem to hang loosely on my frame, and I feel self-conscious about my appearance. While some people may think being thin is a blessing, I can’t help but worry about my health and well-being.

I’m not proud of it. There, I said it. The truth can be hard to face, but I can’t keep denying it any longer.

Yes, I may have a naturally slender figure, but that doesn’t mean I don’t struggle with body image issues. The pressure to fit into society’s narrow definition of beauty is relentless, and it affects all body types, including mine.

My self-esteem plummeted, leading me to avoid social interactions and feeling too insecure to wear certain clothes that I feared wouldn’t flatter my thin frame, making me look like a walking pencil in strange costumes.

I’ve been doing some research about being underweight, and it appears that there could be various factors contributing to my situation.

Stress and anxiety could be affecting my appetite, and I may not be consuming enough calories to maintain a healthy weight. Moreover, my busy lifestyle has led to irregular eating habits, often skipping meals or opting for quick, unhealthy snacks.

I realize that I need to make some changes to my daily routine. Eating a balanced diet and incorporating more nutritious meals will be essential in healthily gaining weight.

I was once confused about whether to see a therapist — for a possibility of anxiety — or go straight to a doctor for my weight problem. In my confusion, I turned to the internet for answers and unfortunately fell for weight-gain ads instead, purchasing a high-priced honey-like product that had no effect.

I also tried making smoothies from various online recipes, but they yielded the same disappointing results. It was a valuable lesson not to trust random ads or articles on the internet.

Then, I decided to talk to a nutritionist who suggested meal plans and specific foods to increase my caloric intake healthily. I started a little food journal on my phone to keep track of my eating habits.

This will help me identify any patterns or deficiencies in my diet. I'm not going to lie, it was challenging to break old habits and adopt a new diet, but I’m determined to give it my best effort.

Weeks and months have passed, and I’m starting to see some positive changes in my weight since I’ve been following the meal plan prescribed by the nutritionist. However, I won’t lie; it’s still a struggle.

Some days, I feel bloated and uncomfortable after eating more than I’m used to. My self-esteem is also taking a hit when I think about how much effort — and money — I have to put in to reach a healthy weight.

I remind myself that this journey is about my health and not just my physical appearance. It’s essential to stay focused on the bigger picture and continue working towards a better, healthier version of myself.

A year later, I got sick. Stomach problem. My busy schedule in the new office has interfered with my good and healthy eating habits. Forgetting to take lunch and eating unhealthy foods late in the evening became a common occurrence.

The long commute to work with an empty stomach and sleepy eyes only worsened the situation. Months of unhealthy behavior led to my hospitalization, resulting in further weight loss.

I was devastated, knowing that I had to start my healthy behavior from the beginning and endure all the struggles again. However, I realized it was necessary for the sake of my health.

As a first step, I made the difficult decision to resign from that office, prioritizing my well-being.

I started keeping a food journal again and attempted some exercises to gain weight — though I must admit, due to my 9–5 daily schedule, finding time to exercise is hard, resulting in rare opportunities to do it. To compensate, I maximize my efforts by consuming more weight-gaining foods.

I understand that this is a slow and gradual process, but I’m determined to continue. My new eating habits are becoming more natural, and I don’t feel as overwhelmed by the calorie intake as I did initially.

It’s essential to clarify that my decision to focus on gaining weight is not influenced by others’ judgments of my appearance, but rather driven by my genuine concern for my body’s health.

People often assume that because I’m thin, I must have it all — that my life is perfect and carefree.

But they don’t see the battles I fight with myself or the times I avoid social situations because I fear judgment based on my appearance.

Back to the first topic: toxic body positivity doesn’t discriminate. It affects us all, regardless of our size or shape. Society’s obsession with body ideals has created an environment where any deviation from the norm is met with criticism and scrutiny.

I want to embrace body positivity just as much as anyone else, but it’s hard when the world constantly sends mixed messages. On the one hand, I’m told to love my body and be confident, but on the other hand, I’m bombarded with comments that make me feel inadequate and ashamed.

“You have to be thin, but not too thin. And you can never say you want to be thin, you have to say you want to be healthy. But also, you have to be thin — — It’s too hard, it’s too contradictory, and nobody gives you a medal or says thank you!”

The monologue lasts longer than that and serves as a reminder of the importance of embracing authenticity and acknowledging the complexities of our emotions and experiences.

Body positivity should be about celebrating all bodies, not just those that fit a specific mold. It’s about recognizing that every person is unique and deserving of love and respect, regardless of their appearance.

To anyone who has experienced similar comments or struggles with body image, know that you are not alone. We must challenge society’s unrealistic beauty standards and foster an environment of acceptance and understanding.

Despite still being underweight and facing the challenge of regaining it, I refuse to give up on loving my body and striving to be the best version of myself, as evidenced by finding and wearing more suitable clothes for my current weight and not shying away from social interactions, as embracing self-love means giving my body and appearance the best care.

My worth is not determined by my size, and I refuse to let toxic body positivity bring me down. I will continue to work on loving myself for who I am, and I hope others will do the same.

Let’s strive for a world where body positivity is truly inclusive and where everyone can feel valued and appreciated, regardless of how they look. It’s time to break free from the shackles of judgment.

I am more than just my body, and so are you. People who say otherwise can f themselves.

[queendopamine]

Opening up about mental health, the healthcare system, and my diagnoses

I'm no stranger to therapy. Though I've never lasted longer than 6 months, I've tried different therapists over the years. I know I need to dig in and do some deep, hands-on work. I've gotten by with some of the tools they've given me, as well as my own efforts at attempting self-help.

In May, I went back to therapy and also saw a psychiatrist for the first time ever. I did a psych eval with her last week.

I received a diagnosis of anxiety, PTSD, and Bipolar. These are also things the therapist had evaluated me for and talked to me about. I scored high on her tests for them. I've always been good at tests...The damn test was how I got my bipolar diagnosis in 2010. Some NP at a walk-in clinic gave me a couple assessments and heard my story about how I reacted on Prozac. Said that depression was only telling half the story and gave me some meds. I had to go off them after a couple months because I got pregnant, but that was as far as I ever went in my Bipolar journey.

Since 2010, I had distanced myself from the Bipolar dx and label. Not only did I not like the stigma, but I just didn't relate to it as much as other things. Borderline seemed to address a lot of similar symptoms. At one point, I even thought I had DID. In 2020, like many chronically-online Millennials in the pandemic, thought I might have ADHD. For much longer, I've considered that I have OCD.

But for now, my doctor is choosing to treat the Bipolar and said she didn't "get ADHD vibes from me" and for now, she wouldn't agree that I have ADHD (I got through school, I finish my work on time, I paid attention to her questions --those were her reasons). She said I might have OCD tendencies based on what I described but she didn't fully label me as OCD or change my treatment at all.

She did say that over time, things could change--as in additional dxes might be given or they might be changed. And of course, we might try different treatments. It's all trial and error.

To start, I'm going on a mood stabilizer (Vraylar) and an anti-anxiety medicine (hydroxizine). I hope I can find the right combination of meds and that the side effects will be minimal and manageable. I havent been on a mood stabilizer in a long time. I don't really remember much about it. I've tried many different anti-depressants and Xanax. The anti-depressants always seemed to make me worse and Xanax just makes me sleepy as fuck.

My doctor gave me an overview of the Vraylar and Hydroxizine. She told me the symptoms and what to look out for. But then reading the pamphlets about them gave me a whole different perspective. Drowsiness was the big one that stuck out to me for both--not only did she not warn me about this, but she even told me hydroxizine wouldn't cause me to be sleepy and I could take up to 400mg a day and I'd be fine. It would help me sleep, but it wouldn't put me to sleep, like Xanax would, in her words.

Like many anti-depressants or mood stabilizers, Vraylar warns of potential weight gain. But it also can cause high blood sugar and high cholesterol. I already have elevated cholesterol so that's unfortunate. I didn't tell my psychiatrist this and now I am wondering if she'll switch meds when I do tell her. I'm not sure why I didn't mention it. All those potential side effects worry me though. I already struggle with my weight and because of my PCOS, I am pretty much already at risk for diabetes--though no tests have come back to indicate that I'm even pre-diabetic, so that's good. The cholesterol is something to worry about though and I will bring that up when I see her again.

Drowsiness is the worst symptom though and I'll tell you why. It's because I switched back to Zyrtec for my allergies and even though I take it at night, it's just a lot. it makes it hard to get up the in the morning. I can handle it okay during the day when I halve the pill, but I still end up dragging around, fatigued. I hope my body adjusts. I don't want to be tired all day. I have horrible allergies and have been receiving allergy shots for them, which contributes to fatigue on shot days. I can't live my life like a zombie all the time.

Just feeling overwhelmed and frustrated and annoyed. I know it's going to take time to adjust to both new medications and even to the Zyrtec. And if Vraylar and Hydroxizine don't work, it will be onto something else. I'm just eager to get it right and feel fulfilled and content. I want to be able to workout if I want to. I want to relax if I want to. I just don't want to be ruled by fear or lack of energy or zero motivation. I want to be in control of my body. Drowsiness is opposite of this.

Onto the PTSD...that shouldn't have surprised me, but it did. I wasn't expecting that. I don't know if the meds will help with my PTSD symptoms. But I know that my stepmom and her sister both receive ketamine treatment periodically. Both of them have bad depression and it helps them tremendously. According to the website, it helps with PTSD and bipolar symptoms as well. So I've considered that as an option, but I want to try meds first.

That brings me to the other issue--cost. I'm lucky that I can pull together the funds when needed and tighten up spending enough to afford these expensive-ass therapy/psych appointments. I also have a boyfriend I live with who makes almost 2x what I do and can pick up the slack or give me money if I really need it. Most people are not in that situation. There are people in my own family who cannot afford certain things. Mental health is a luxury to them.

Something so important and life-changing is a luxury that they can't afford. It's tragically common. Health insurance in the US is a joke. I can't even bill them for these sessions. It's not that they don't cover any mental health/behavioral health (though that's part of it sometimes), it's that the places I have visited do not bill health insurance for some reason. Maybe it's harder to work with them. maybe there's something about the way they bill. I truly do not know. But it's expensive as hell and I know if it were easier, they would bill insurance.

So yeah it's hard enough that I have to scrape together the money and really budget out my spending and think of every dollar. But there are people who have to do this with groceries, with feeding their children! People who have to choose which bills to pay. They can't just scrape together some extra money and spend it on mental health. Those people are fucked. and then their kids, who grow up in poverty or who are surrounded by this constant survival mentality, will grow up traumatized and in need of therapy they can't afford either. The cycle continues.

Does the government care? No. This system isn't built well and it's failing the people who need it the most.

I could talk more about the PTSD and Bipolar. what they mean to me and the symptoms I'm having. But I'm tired (go figure) and this is all I can manage.

[astridthevalkyrie]

trauma dump so my dad and i work in the same company right. he sits about twenty feet away from me (yeah it's fantastic i don't wanna jump out the window somtimes at all) but anyways today he comes over to my desk and in english and loud enough that my colleagues could hear he's like "your shower is clogged you need to fix it!" and a. my sisters and i have been telling him this for weeks so the fact that he is acting like he didn't know shows how little he actually listens to us and b. he only knows now bc since her bathroom is being painted my mother took a shower in ours and inconveniences only matter when it's inconveniences for them and c. he could have said this QUIETLY or in URDU and it would be fine but no apparently asking for respect in the workspace is too much to ask for so i told him "can you be a little less condescending about it?" and he got even more peeved and said he wasn't being condescending and was just telling me to clean out the clog (something i didn't even realize i could do like i didn't know i could lift the thing in the shower bc it looks screwed on and he's never told me this before) so i was like "okay whatever" and he walked away and i KNOW at least one of my colleagues overheard bc he joked something like "that sounded serious" so um. and yesterday my mom randomly got pissed at my sister and told me to stop teaching her to blame everything on my mother and i didn't wanna fight so i just said kay and tried to keep the mood positive with my mother because who am i if i'm not playing emotional support eldest daughter all the time and my dad heard the sound of conflict and went into the basement like the bystander and enabler he is!! anyways i have started another keigo fic that will most likely flop as well but idc because i'm having fun writing for him but i'm not having fun at home and i still lack the energy to find a therapist especially bc i know i'd have to pay for it out of pocket and i'd hear it from my parents (SEPARATELY ffs) that they don't think i need therapy but my sister has had trichotillomania for years and they're only now kinda seriously registering her into therapy after being told my several different doctors to do that because she has a fucking ANXIOUS TICK and they just don't see the correlation they don't see why she would have that and my mom keeps calling her crazy as though the woman doesn't have a barrage of mental health issues that she just refuses to address she has a therapist that she chooses not to talk to she takes depression pills she has meltdowns but it's oooover the second anyone else feels an emotion and now (and always) i'm being told that i'm teaching my sister to hate her and disobey her like BABE!!!! you are UNLIKEABLE and there is a reason no one in the house wants to spend time with you!!!! i'm already in this one stupid class that my parents pushed me into that i don't wanna get into but it's so annoying bc it takes up at least two hours aside from my 7:30 to 5 pm shift which if i go into office means i have to catch a 6 am train and be back at like 6:30 pm so i always push myself to stay up as late as i can to get some alone time where i can relax and then i wake up miserable and i push goals for myself to eat healthier and exercise bc i've gained weight even though everyone says i look like i don't eat (i don't) my mom will just randomly make a comment like "i can see your stomach poking out" or some SHIT like that and she's constantly trying to get me to drink her goddamn disgusting homemade mint water that will make my skin clearer and brighter but i like my brown skin and i'm not SELF HATING like some people! and she keeps bugging me to text the lady from this matchmaking service she enrolled me into but i do not WANT to because none of those men will like me because i god forbid put in my bio that i have ideals that i will not budge from and that i am a feminist and i need someone who will respect that i'm allowed to have as much freedom as them and desi men can't stomach that shit so. and my grandma uncle and his two kids are visiting this

(hit the character block limit) weekend and i have to make it into a fun game for my sister to always be around him and interact with everyone bc if me or her try to refill our social batteries in our rooms or interact with EACH OTHER instead of everyone else my mother will think it's the equivalent of stripping naked in front of everyone despite how she embarrasses us every fucking CHANCE she gets especially around her family and my grandma is back to living with us for at least a few months after this which means she'll sleep in my bed which means she'll use my pillows and take up half the bed and every time this happens my CHRONIC BACK PAIN FORGOT ABOUT THAT acts up more than usual so i'm considering sleeping downstairs but i tend to get anxious when i do that i'm just hoping it doesn't happen this time bc i'd rather be depressed as shit instead of anxious and anxiety scares me so bad i get into my own head so easily and i hate taking meds apparently i need vitamin d pills for the rest of my life and taking them makes me feel sick and i don't drink water no matter how hard i try bc the more i drink the more sick i feel and sometimes i go days without drinking water and sometimes i don't eat and sometimes i'm starving but after a single bite i'm full and somehow i'm still gaining weight and i can't expect anyone to care about this constantly because i'm no one's goddamn concern or burden anyways today i'm feeling really introspective and i want to sit with my feelings for a bit but i can't because once i get home (in the train right now) i have to have a one on one meeting with my course instructor and i miss acting but at the same time every time i think of it i think of that horrible incident a few months ago where i agreed to be in the ensemble of wizard of oz and the experience was so bad and the people were so awful and i was the only woc there and they treated me like dirt under their shoe and every time we had a show to put on i felt ill from how miserable i was and now i'm scared all my acting experiences will all be like this and i'm so tired i want to be held and comforted and i want someone to allow me to cry without telling me to cheer up and i want to stop being so nervous every time i meet someone new and i want my skin to be clearer and i want to be healthier and i want my mother to stop abusing me and i want to just sleep in for a whole day and have no one bother me and i want to answer all these asks in my inbox because some are more than a year old and i feel so bad and i go back to school in the fall and i'll be working full time and i can't even say well i guess i had a good break year because i didn't i was working the whole time and i'm almost always around one parent and i want to write without my wrists feeling pain and i want everyone to leave me alone.

[metamorphosisme]

Curls hair, puts on makeup, and new dress to pick up my man. Not only does he not acknowledge me at all but as soon as we get home he jumps in the shower then half way threw calls me over. "Me and our daughter are going over ***s house for a bbq idk how many people is gonna be there but there will be kids ectect" after I say ok and a long pause he goes "you can come if you want"... I just said it ok and made up the excuse for taking care or the baby. I just had that gut feeling that he didn't want me there, it sucks, I thought I looked ok even though I gained 5lbs back... I just wanted to feel... alright? ... anyway Then right before I leave he goes "what did you do today?" I said worked, nothing why? He goes "you smell like a dog I keep gagging.".... broke my fucking heart dude... he did ask for a kiss but then left... back for another binge once he was gone... im so fucking sad man and if I show him I'm sad he gets mad it's so ridiculous.

When he gets home I'm sleeping on the couch and I open my eyes, he looks down at me and says "why do you have that fucking face on for already". Like 😭😭 legit all I did was open my eyes.... I just went upstairs away from him he was obviously drinking.. he's been drinking for about 3 or 4 months straight everynight.. only 6 16oz millers but the "only" is me trying to tell myself it's ok because he works.... how am I supposed to tell him to kick something when I can't even cut down my fucking eating... ive gained 5 pounds in 2 weeks. I legit feel like the fat I can see in my face, and my stomach is puffed out, like I see it and maybe that's why he's being mean to me again.... ha... another thing we were sitting on the couch he ate this peanut butter thing and threw half on a napkin on the table, time goes by so I broke a piece off to try and he looked at me horrified, " just because I didn't eat it doesn't mean I wanted you too"..... you think it would have been a sign...

Idk if he only likes me when I'm skinny because I only like me when I'm skinny but mam screaming sick kids, his bipolar / drinking, + trying to work and running a fucking house and running everywhere the fuck else everyday is tough man... I just wanna be happy so bad. My doctor just puts me on any new medication that's on the market, my therapist said I need a psychiatrist and a nutritionist, the psychiatrist won't call me back and the doctor shit needs to be done in secret because my man doesn't believe in that.... (he went to my doctor for his bipolar and he almost killed himself multiple times from the meds..) I've been debating ozemp or the off brands but I'm seeing A LOT of people having suey thoughts on it, it's like a whole underground thing nobody is talking about and it's not like self ouchy it's like felt so low one day did some crazy shit and is now in a coma... idk man I just don't know... I just ordered elevate from avantera to see if maybe that helps with my compulsions. I don't have add as far as I know because I can take an addi and feel my body pick up... could be wrong but I've always heard if you have add and you take one you get slow so trail and error I don't believe that's my case.. oy idk now im rambling to my damn self.. Hopefully I'll read this later and maybe it will give me the strength to be strong and not give in. Eating helps for a moment like a drug but the reprocussions of it are just foul... oh ha and side note deff the weight plus my sugar cuz I'm back to being in pain.. again omad I'm done I can't go on like this... lol no eating was so easy when I was able to just work and sleep all day haha now add having to make 10 meals a day not for yourself and everyone eating different shit on top of daily stress and cleaning... lol whole shit is wild...

[itsnotresilience]

Is this forever or just for now?

I’m changing up my longtime blog that I haven’t touched in awhile. I had a lot to say but no time to say it. Now I have time and reason. My body has been a mystery to almost every doctor that has encountered it and at the same time labeled essentially surviving so not important enough to expend time on.

Todays blog though will be about extreme body changes brought on by medication. I have a friend, who, poor soul, has bravely agreed to be my voice of reason while I have no chemical clarity in my brain. Before you say co-dependency, this was actually suggested by my trauma counselor. The point is that I’m the type of person that crowdsources advice and perspectives before I make decisions sometimes to make sure I am considering all sides of a situation but there are many many things that I trust my gut instinct on and I’m known to be an incredibly decisive person.

All of that seems to be gone right now.

1) instead of the intellectual, quick, imaginative and productive pathways I take pride in, the chemicals steer me into the easier well rehearsed anxiety and trauma response zones almost immediately. Example. My boss engaged me in a brainstorming exercise on a work problem yesterday. I instantly felt like me again, thinking through a process and the issues I understood, the implications, ideas we could think about. Minutes later I wondered if he did it to placate me because he knows I’ve been feeling useless work wise

2) I am not in a space to even get a read on the event I’m asking about, let alone process the advice I’m getting and whether it makes sense for the event - which may not have been the event I perceived it to be because prednisone rage or sadness has tapped into what I thought to be a long dead trauma response. Example: I get an email suggesting I pause my run coaching so I don’t pay for something I’m not doing but the wording sends me into a complete tailspin of “everyone is abandoning me” and “my whole life is falling apart”.

3)I get overwhelmed by the advice I used to be able to parse through and kinda see what blend of perspectives made sense. I’m also needing it too much and burning out my amazing friends who have their own shit to manage.

So this was the idea from my trauma therapist- that for the meantime I’d have this one person to help filter things through because of the brain changes, plus- also increasing talk therapy of course.

Back to extreme body changes. The following is an excerpt of an exchange with my voice of reason through text. This has been edited for public consumption. Note that I am not body shaming anyone. This is about me, not anyone else. I’m not censoring thoughts based on what people think I might be saying or whatever else. We can have conversations in some other posts about body positivity and body dysmorphia. This is not that post.

“I was taking a bath and I thought I saw Ursula from the Little Mermaid in the mirror except she was white and had sticky stuff on her skin from EKG bruises from the 6 day IV and blood draw battle.

I was literally looking at Meghan pre-2019. The one I worked so hard to get rid of, except this one has an even more deformed shape in my minds eye- Prednisone face (one side is literally different than the other) and there seems no hope of losing it again.

I was crying, telling my husband I fucking hate everything right now and he really did try to console me. Except, he said, our 20 year old bodies are gone babe gotta let it go.

Something about his statement made me viscerally angry. I’m not pining for my 20 year old body. I’m pining for a body I literally was able to have 3 fucking months ago. I cannot wear my normal clothes and I probably have to go buy a bigger size. I’m not dreaming of my ultimate weight loss goal. I’m dreaming of “last week I was 163 pounds and feeling like I could feasibly get back on track” and I know from my last scale check I had gained 10 pounds in a week. You can tell yourself these are all steroid pounds but it doesn’t make a difference.

All I see is that horrid body I hated and worked so fucking hard to get back into shape. Back to this shape. I’m defeated and I had to tell Eric three times to let me be sad about it. It will be even harder to lose it again as I was already struggling in peri-menopause to find the right diet combination to deal with the hormone fluctuations.

I had a nutritionist appointment scheduled Monday, which I cancelled because I there is no sense in focusing on this when I can’t even breathe all the time. “

Anyone reading this is probably wondering why the fuck I am caring about this when my oxygen levels aren’t normal and I’m on bed rest and could have to go back to the hospital at any time.

I don’t know that I can explain that well enough for all of you to not judge at all. I am a perfectionist. I take care of myself. I want to describe I’m an avid runner but cannot even run or exercise right now. I’m having major memories and trauma from my last experience with this and it’s ok that you don’t understand. It’s not your body.

It’s a lot of change and loss to process at once and sometimes I just break and sound like a child who says, “it’s not fair”.

And yeah, our super favorite toxic response is, “life isn’t fair”. How exactly is that helpful? That obvious statement that everyone knows? It seems to be used just to put upset people in their upset place which is far away from spaces we have to listen to them and they could ruin our “positivity”.

I’ll say it this way, some times there are people that get lots of shit at once and others get less. There are entire swaths of people who I believe live with a lot less shit because their basic needs ++++++++++ are met. Then there are those that every day is a struggle so that “isn’t fair”compared to those who maybe their Tesla couldn’t find a charge station. That kind of comment then becomes demeaning and we should maybe think of something else to say like, “life can suck”.

Anyway, so life can suck and you just have to be sometimes.

Be kind to each other

[timeoverload]

I'm not sure what to think right now. I don't know what you want from me. I'm not going to go on Saturday if you are going to send me mixed messages. I'm not going to be mad if you don't want me to be there that day. I don't want to push you to do something you don't want to do. I'm just confused because I thought you wanted me to be there. I feel like I'm being extremely clingy and annoying so maybe I should just wait 2 more weeks. I do want to spend time with you but I don't want anyone to be stressed.

We may have a telepathic connection but that doesn't mean I can read your mind all the time. I know I'm not always right either. I wish it was that simple. It's so strange. I don't really understand how it works and I have been trying to figure that out for a long time. I don't know how to explain it to anyone.

I'm not sure what I said that upset you and I'm sorry. I know I say stupid stuff sometimes. I just want to clarify that I haven't told anyone about all of this except for the people that read my posts. I was referring to other people on the internet when I said that everyone thinks I'm crazy. I wish I had a friend that I could talk to about it with confidentially but I don't so I guess I will keep talking to myself. I don't think a therapist could help me in this situation either. I have a feeling they would try to put me in the psych ward.

I'm not intending to do anything to hurt your business's reputation because I enjoy going there and I care about all of you. I'm not trying to get anyone in trouble so that's why I haven't said anything to anyone.

I have been thinking about things all day and there's probably more that I need to say but I literally can't focus anymore. I'm sorry again for being a crab. I know I'm not always easy to get along with sometimes. I hope everything gets better soon. I love you Maxwell! 💖💖💖

Today kind of sucked because I couldn't get 5 minutes of peace. I'm socially drained. I have been doing so much teaching. It's nice to be talking to people more but my head is throbbing now. This morning was pretty slow-paced for me but it was super busy this afternoon because I had 3 rooms going. The second to last eye case turned into a shit show and they had to bring in another doctor so it took almost 2 hours. I got to leave before they started the last surgery because they didn't bring the patient back until after 6. The surgical tech doing that case was kind enough to cover for me and clean up when they were done so I wouldn't have to stay longer because I was already there late. I didn't get home until 6:30.

I haven't done much since I got here because my body hurts. I had to put my feet up for a while because my ankles are so swollen and I think I need to get some new compression socks.

I have been pretty good about eating enough lately and I feel like I've gained a decent amount of weight. I'm just not hungry right now and my anxiety is making it feel like my stomach is in knots again. I got food from the cafeteria for lunch and I don't think that's helping because it was bad. Sometimes it's really good and other times I feel like I'm eating prison food. It has made me sick before. I bought a blueberry muffin earlier and I will probably just end up eating that for dinner. I guess it's better than nothing.

I'm really tired and I stayed up too late again last night but that's nothing new. I need to try to relax and get ready for bed soon so I probably should stop rambling. I hope tomorrow is better than today. I will keep trying my best to stay positive even though it's really hard right now.

Thanks for listening to me. I hope everyone has a wonderful evening. 💖

[endlesssadness]

I'm 27 and stil don't really understand the relationship with my parents. I still have the feeling "when will I be an adult?" but the real question is "when did I stop being a child?". I know I was 11 and was tied up to this stupid hospital bed begging my mom to end my life because of the pain I felt in my hips. While my brother grow higher and getting skinnier I grow higher and bigger. When I was in the hospital at 11 a doctor told to my mom she should give me 1 apple and 1 joghurt a day and I will start losing weight. I was 11! My mom still shakes her head over the words of the doctor but I'm sure she thought about to try it. Every summer I cried and hide my belly in big hoodies and all my mom and dad is telling me I need to stop eating and losing weight. Goddam I was still a child. My brother never needed to do something he doesn't want to. But I had to go to "fat-camps" and talking with strangers from the health insurance about my eating habits. "Food need to be less important for her" she said to my mom. Since I can think back is food the most important thing in my life. Always hungry. Never enough to feel full. Always feeling shitty after eating something unhealthy. When I was 19 the doctors finally had a answer for my uncontrolled weight gain. PCOS. That bitch. "Lose weight" they said after I tried 3 times taking hormones and ended up every time in the ER because of excessive bleeding. My fucking ex showed me how to starve and I lost 40kg in 5 month. He controlled every single bite I took and got me from one ED to another ED. But that's a whole other story. Of course my parents where so proud of me because I became smaller and smaller. But than they needed to pay for the therapist because I was close to go super crazy. After leaving my ex I was completly lost. How should I eat now? My therapist told me first care about your mental health. And with my new bf I started to enjoy food again. I gained 15kg back but still hate every kilo. Before the 15kg I was still overweight and now I'm stuck. I'm starving and binge but my parents still applause when I look little bit smaller that 2 weeks ago. I always thought my parents and I having a good relationship but everything I did, every problem I had I faced it alone. They never helped me. I always felt awkward for who I am. Mom asked me some weeks ago why she shouldn't take me to the ER when I was bleeding so much back in the days. I asked my best friend to bring me and pick me up after the operation. Mom, because you never accepted me for who I was. And still I can't say the truth to you because you will never understand it from my point of the view. You were never the mom I needed and deserved. I'm still struggling to allow feelings. When I start to feel happy I shut myself down the next second. YOU and dad never showed me to accept myself bc you didn't accept me for who I was. When I was 15-16 years I walked down the stairs and the family computer was on. Google was open and the search bar said "help my daughter keep gaining weight". HELP??? WTF HELP?????? You needed help??? I was so shocked I pretended nothing happend like always. My mask, my acting was so perfect that both of you were so shocked and surprised when I told you after 9 years that I'm so depressed I was close end my life before I went abroad for 3 month. When I was a child I was so so shy. I always hide behind my parents legs and when I visit friends, even as a teen, I couldn't barely saying "hello" to their parents when I met them. My mom and dad always forced me to play with stranger children but I don't wanted and I just felt so uncomfortable. "Be like her, act like him, just go and say hello, ask if they want to play with you, just be nice,..." I WAS NEVER THE CHILD YOU WANTED. I still try to accept this and I still try to understand why my parents did this all. Why I needed to grow up so fast. Why?

[finsterhund]

So a talk with my doctor revealed some things.

My ADHD meds are for the most part working as intended and I'm just understimulated and depressed. I need to work towards learning how to aim my brain and attention towards things efficiently. The meds aren't making me lack restraint or anything. Everything else is. Essentially the meds making me sit down and do extensive crying dog research for 12 hours is because that's what I "wanted" (consciously or not) to do. My meds aren't a miracle cure that will magically get me to sit down and work on things I have to work on they just give me the focus to work on things. Which is disappointing but I understand that. I was foolish to think otherwise tbh.

Self control as someone who's obsessive and has psychopathic mannerisms is obviously not my strong suit. We will be looking into switching my antidepressants and anti psychotics so that they mesh better with the mental ability my ADHD meds give me.

In hindsight this makes so much sense that the problem isn't the ADHD meds making me spend 12 hours a day on a special interest but is actually my brain's fault and the meds just allowed me to reach my true potential. Meds aren't going to "cure" who I am and how my brain works. So I need to train myself to have focus (Jedi time lol)

Also I was concerned because the meds were supposedly going to have the side effect of not being tired or able to sleep upon taking them but that didn't happen to me and I could still fall asleep and have depression naps so I thought the meds weren't working. But turns out that's a side effect for people without ADHD. And that having ADHD I can sleep regardless and tiredness is based on what my brain is doing. So the pharmacist shouldn't have told me that they would keep me up and alert because my ADHD, why I'm taking the meds in the first place, makes me different and immune to that. I thought the meds weren't working but now I realize otherwise.

ADHD meds causing my ADHD to not limit my other issues is something I really should have expected. I spoke to other people and they said medicating their ADHD made them have to raise doses of other stuff too. Guess I should have talked around. I was so focused on my ADHD and the meds for ADHD that I didn't factor into it that I don't just have ADHD. There's PTSD and depression and allegedly BPD and maybe autism we still don't know about that and everything else under the sun and I'm grieving and blah blah blah.

I just got worried when I was spending so much time doing internet research but the issue is that I just need to learn to not go all obsessed with everything.

Again, it is disappointing that I can't just take meds and solve all my problems because I don't think I'm able at the present time for significant self improvement because I just want to curl up and die because Cazza isn't here on most days. But whatever.

Again, hindsight is 2020 and of course if I have nothing going for my life and no motivation when I get my ADHD meds I'm going to put my newfound brain power into something stupid but important to me like ripping the internet apart looking for more crying dogs. Foolish as I was for thinking the unmedicated ADHD was the issue with me not wanting to play games or write or draw when it's the fact that my service dog is dead and my disability prevents me from leaving the house on my own making me depressed as fuck that's sapped any and all desire to do anything but research and mope.

Shit life syndrome or whatever. I just wish there was a way to fix it. Therapy again perhaps but phone psychiatrist appointments did not help. Phone therapist appointments did not help. Maybe now that covid is less an issue I can have in person again but gotta find the strength to make phone calls and shit ugh.

My doctor told me I gained weight since last we met which was upsetting to me. But again. My service dog is dead and I don't have a will to live of course I'm eating for pleasure and also can't afford healthy stuff. Once my surgery is done and I'm recovered I'm going to the gym again though. So there's that.

Still no word on that by the way. I was hoping they'd schedule me sooner rather than later.

Also the medicine that's a pain in the ass to take I have to keep taking and I'm upset about that. I have neglected it and I have no stickers in my planner book I'm so sad I'm a failure. Anyways.

Roommate "wants help with bills" again this month of course. But this time he told me today, when I get paid, so it's not being sprung on me surprise again. Still annoying as all hell. He was like "oh maybe I could pay you back with art" but motherfucker I haven't had the desire to commission art since Cazza died that's yet another thing that lost its value to me now that the love of my life is fucking gone I don't know when that'll come back either.

The things in life that gave me purpose and reason and enjoyment are all bitter grey sawdust to me now that she's gone. I wish I knew when that would stop. It's really painful. Again, going back to my ADHD meds. That's the problem. Not the meds. The meds help my ADHD be manageable they won't fix the fact that life is pain and suffering and I miss my baby girl and everything just feels futile and pointless now.

Roommate wants to do group cosplay where he's Obi-Wan and I'm Anakin but 1. I wanted to be Obi-Wan (lol) and 2. I don't have the motivation to get a cosplay together. I don't even have motivation for my ANDY COSPLAY. THAT'S MY FUCKING LIFE I LOVE THAT SHIT. MY LIFE IS ALL ABOUT BEING ANDY WHAT THE FUCK IS WRONG WITH ME. THERE WAS A TIME BEFORE CAZZA BUT THAT'S SO ALIEN TO ME AT THIS POINT!!!!!?????

But there's a convention around the time that I should be getting my surgery at the latest (just my luck it will be then) so I don't even know if I'll be able to. I'm thinking about how I didn't go to conventions last couple years because Cazza was sick and I stayed home to take care of her it feels weird and not possible that I can go to conventions now because my brain is still programmed to stay home to take care of her.

I miss her so fucking much man. I hate this.

I really related to today's episode of the Bad Batch where Omega was missing Echo but expressed that by being upset the ship got stolen. Because that's exactly how my brain works. I guess it makes sense because my brain is a literal child.

In my extensive search for the crying dog I basically went through a hundred years of sears catalogs (yeah I told you didn't I?) And it gave me such a respect for vintage stuff and a more understanding of how stuff progressed I guess.

It feels stupid to say but part of me wishes I could have been raised in the stupid 1950s American dream suburb white picket fence boy wearing a striped shirt with a bicycle nuclear family picture perfect magazine ass childhood. You know. I wish my life could have been a Rockwell painting sometimes. I should be grateful I was born in the 90s and got the internet and shit but idk I just wish I got one of those magical "good families" that only ever seemed to have existed in fiction to me. The 50s weren't a good time to be a minority and there was the looming threat of nuclear war and all that shit but the advertisement photos look so cozy. I crave that normalcy I guess. I need to understand that even a good childhood didn't resemble those superficial staged photos.

Maybe dreaming about a 50s childhood is an improvement from my desires to be a caveman. Maybe not. Who fucking knows. I think the underlying issue is that I wish I was raised being wanted and loved and with security and a sense of community. Blah blah blah.

To be honest Anakin being a whiny brat with issues and a violent underlying darkness makes more sense for me to cosplay because that's me lol.

This I realize is a massive rambling and all that shit but idk. I just know people want updates on my life to know I'm okay.

I guess I am okay. I'm getting by at least. Grieving and inflation are my biggest issues. I'm so mad the cost of living keeps going up but my disability income hasn't changed since covid started. Man fuck.

Wish I could have my own place. I want a nice little farmhouse cottage sorta shit with an upstairs bedroom with slanted ceiling and my own living room and a yard and blah blah blah.

The ADHD meds confusion is starting to be funny to me now. It absolutely lets me stay focused on what I set out to do. It's just something that wasn't responsible or advisable to have chosen in the first place.

I am going to try to force myself into focusing on actually making crying dogs. Or playing a game. I don't know what caused me to stop making the dogs this time. Working with the felt was so good maybe I had issues with the actual fabric. Who knows.

I think that's everything. I'll try to update more.