#the frustrating thing is like most of the therapists and stuff i have seem to think i probably have adhd but its like....

[thefleshyougoveggie]

do i have adhd/add or is my brain just permanently damaged by depression and anxiety in a way that manifests like a lot of the adhd/add symptoms?

ill probably never know......

[scrupulosity-comics]

your comics are lovely because so much of the discussion around certain ocd obsessions (on the internet and elsewhere) seem so fucking unnuanced, lol

Idk. Sorry if this is intrusive. But yeah I also struggle with scrupulosity+ harm ocd and I sometimes get really fed up with people insisting on simple answers (if you’re doubting it you’re probably a good person/ just live with the uncertainty) without recognizing that sometimes you *have* to have a method of at least estimating your impact on other people and if your brain is hell bent on confusing your capacity to notice actual impact with its bizarre overestimations it can make living on the world really hard, lol

I guess with time I’ve managed to find ways that make sense to me to simultaneously keep myself with some kind of moral framework while also not being too rigid and accepting partial uncertainty, but I feel like philosophy and talking with friends who *don’t* know the Correct Advice For People With OCD helped me a lot more than standard psychiatric advice, lol

Anyway. Thank you for sharing your experiences. Extremely relatable and funny

Also, imho, adding complexity to perspectives tends to be better to the world than subtracting it, lol

God yeah I do Not find most OCD support or advice helpful or relatable. I know several people who’ve had really good experiences with ERP therapy but my therapist and I found it nearly impossible to come up with socially and psychologically safe ways to start exposure response prevention. She had me write “I am committing micro-aggressions” on a card—I still joke about it.

Obviously I’m glad that some people are helped by the simplistic stuff. I just find it frustrating when people expect them to also help me reason with obsessions and compulsions that are inherently politicized or interpersonal. A lot of people are upset by racism but still do or believe or say racist things! People apply compassion and empathy towards societal evils all the time! I have acted on impulses I regret before!

[royalbilliards]

i would LOVE to hear your opinion on maruki's therapy bc i see a lot of ppl saying he sucked as a therapist and i've never seen one so i can't really say anything with certainty...... but idk, i want joker to have at least an okay therapist just because it's a nice touch. also i think it's more satisfying narratively when maruki is someone joker can lean on for support and get attached to, but then has to oppose because shitty actualization. idk. pathetic wet man makes me go brrrrrr

Welcome to the autism zone.

So a lot of my thoughts on maruki’s therapy comes from my own experiences with a therapist in the past (I’m trying to get a new one right now) but. A lot of what Maruki’s ‘confidant perks’ and what they’re called suggest he’s giving Joker treatment for anxiety and depression, which makes a lot of sense given the way he acts in public outside of the joker persona, and the situation he’s in at Shujin (being bullied, for lack of a better term because it’s 5 am and I just woke up, and ostracised due to Kamoshida spilling his criminal record).

Practices like mindfulness and wakefulness sound like bullshit when you first have to start them, mostly because of the names, but the practices themselves are grounding techniques, being able to be present in your body, aware of your surroundings, and not letting yourself spiral via panic or depression and stuff. Detox is a term for drug addiction and alcoholism rehab, they’re not exactly practices we know Joker needs help with, but they’re most likely preventative measures, so that he doesn’t go Down those paths BECAUSE of his situation, which honestly makes sense, depression, anxiety, bullying from peers and the rest of it, including his criminal record and the way Japan treats students with criminal records, it makes sense that Joker could have easily gone down those routes if he didn’t have his friends and the metaverse to blow off steam and have an outlet for his emotions that he isn’t allowed to have in his day to day life. Flow is also a form of therapy treatment for handling depression, and mostly focus’ on capturing moments of positive mental states and allowing yourself to be completely focused and involved in Enjoyable activities that make you happy.

Because all of these therapy treatments that we get named from his confidant perks are Real therapy treatments that both Work and are widely used to treat specific mental health problems (Depression, Anxiety and Self-worth) we get both an insight into how Joker is actually feeling about things outside of what he shows and how useful these techniques are in his actual day to day life, because he’s using them to handle stressful situations in the metaverse.

There’s also the fact that Before everything, and AFTER everything, Joker doesn’t seem to hold much animosity towards Maruki, yes Akechi does and he’s Totally allowed to hate him, but neither Yoshizawa or Joker do, when Yoshizawa is more than justified in being angry and frustrated with him. And it might just be due to the abysmal lack of characterisation Yoshizawa gets, but mostly she seems like she too, like Joker, WANTS to help him, because we know that Maruki himself struggles with Self-worth problems, delusions of grandeur, a messiah complex (in both definitions of the term) anxiety and depression (along with a few other spicier things I don’t feel like mentioning because I’d need to bring up the psa’s on how demonised disorders need to be treated with respect since no one can do that on the internet). But there doesn’t seem to Be animosity between the three of them. Mostly just worry about someone they both cared about, and trusted.

There’s also the fact that, Jokers interactions with Maruki do not End After you help him with his research, we’re just cut off from the interaction at that point, because Joker in canon is explaining to Sae other more important things, he probably doesn’t feel the need to tell her the confidential therapy treatment he’s receiving at school. Their interaction continues, we get a fade to black, so it’s obvious he is getting actual therapy treatment, but Maruki has probably picked up on Jokers earth shattering savior complex and is easing him into the idea of therapeutic treatment by having him assist in his research, so Joker is more inclined to accept the help, since it’s a Transaction to Joker. If Maruki had more time to be Jokers therapist, and I assume he would have at some point Offered to continue his work as Jokers therapist after his tenure at Shujin ending, he would have eventually been able to work on that with Joker, and weaned him off Needing to help people all the time, and viewing social interactions as a transactional thing.

Anyways, yeah, I don’t think Maruki is a bad therapist outside of the horrors, I think people just don’t think about it because it isn’t spoon fed to them in a social link interaction, which is where the assumption that he’s Only using Joker as a sounding board comes from. But what would I know I just did media studies and have a special interest in analysing media, SHRUG

[jacksdinonuggets]

Idk if your doing requests but could you wright a story about Amitys cg (any) getting her some new toys but she stars to cry after a bit cause she does know how to play cause she had to go up to fast and her cg helps her?

Here you go!

Amity was on her way to the Owl House to have some Little time with Eda. She really didn’t want to regress in the Manor because it was just so cold and unfriendly. However, the Owl House was warm and friendly and she has quite a few fond memories there too. Luz was in the human realm for school and wouldn’t be coming over until the weekend. That was fine though, Amity always felt weird when regressing in front of her girlfriend, even if Luz thought she was the most adorable baby in the world.

“Hey, Boots!” Eda greeted her when she knocked on the door.

“Hey, Eda,” Amity gave her a smile. 

The living room was all set up for a regressor. There was a playpen in front of the coffee table, a changing mat rolled up next to said coffee table, and a bag of what seemed to be lots of toys

“Alright, everything is set up. You need help getting changed?” The owl lady asked. 

“I changed before I left…” Amity said.

“Hmm, okay, but do you mind if I check? Usually it’s harder to get the tapes right by yourself,” She offered. 

“Y-you can check,” She confirmed.

Eda rolled out the changing mat on the coffee table and then laid Amity on it. The girl squeaked, still feeling a little big. But that mindset changed when Eda put a paci in her mouth and handed her Otabin, her stuffed animal that was in her bag.

It seemed like Amity was just wearing a tucked in shirt with a skirt and hoodie, but when Eda took off the skirt, she found that she was actually wearing a onesie underneath. She unsnapped it and checked the tapes. She sighed when she saw how loose and weirdly positioned they were. But it was okay, Eda just fixed the tapes and snapped the onesie back on

“You did a good job, but you needed a little help. It’s alright, though, I wouldn’t expect someone as small as you to get it perfect~” Eda baby-talked her. Amity grinned a lot behind the pacifier. She loved the baby talk and baby praise and all that type of stuff. It really helped her feel little and not so insecure. Amity even spoke to her therapist about the baby talking and praising and apparently if they have these regression times at least once a week with all the baby talking and stuff, it would subconsciously help with all the unrealistic standards her mo- Odalia planted inside her. She really hated having panic attacks over small mistakes so she was pretty ecstatic to find out that it would be subconsciously helping her.

Eda set Amity down in the playpen and went to grab something. When she returned, she stepped in and took out a bag of toys.

“Camila saw some of these in the human realm and thought of you and sent some over. But a lot of these are demon realm toys for your age range” She explained, dumping out all of the toys onto the floor.

Amity was so excited! She barely played with toys growing up and now she finally could! She grabbed an Azura action figure and held it. And then kept holding it. 

That’s when Amity realized that she had no clue how to play with toys. She tried maybe making the figure dance around or something but it didn’t feel right! After getting frustrated, she picked up a new toy and tried to play with it. But the same thing happened! She was confused and didn’t know how to play!

Eventually, it got so overwhelming and frustrating that tears started to pour out of her eyes and she started sobbing. She threw the toy she was holding across the room and started banging her fist on the floor.

Eda saw her throw the toy and was about to scold her for throwing things, but then noticed her crying and could hear the sobs getting louder. When Amity started to hit the floor, Eda tried grabbing her hands gently to prevent any injuries, even though they were sitting on a foam playmat. 

“Shh, Ami, it’s okay, what’s wrong?” Eda tried asking.

“D-don’t know how!” Amity cried. Eda was confused. What did she not know how to do?

“What don’t you know how, Boots?” She queried.

“To pway! Dun know how to play!” Amity sobbed. 

Eda frowned, a little worried. But then again, she reminded herself that a lot of the reasons that people regress is to give themselve’s better childhood memories or heal their inner child. 

“It’s alright to not know how to play, sweetie.” She told her, rubbing the girl’s back. 

She held her for a bit and let her cry it out until she eventually calmed down. While she was comforting her, she wondered if maybe part of the reason why she didn’t know how, was because she regressed so young. Perhaps sensory play and montessori toys were better for her. That way she wouldn’t have a hard time, especially when imagination is involved. The Baby Blight probably had no clue how to even use her imagination. It would most likely be best to have her use it in small amounts instead of forcing it all at once.

When she was finished crying, Eda set her back down on the mat.

“Listen, Kid. it’s going to take time to learn how to play and actually be entertained by it. How about for now, we try out something easier?” she suggested, taking out a few toys that shouldn’t require too much brain power. 

Amity seemed to have some fun while sorting shapes and colors. Eda wanted to try something after a little while though. What if they tried to build with the blocks, but Eda give her some guidance on what to build or how to do it. Maybe that’ll help her.

So she got out the bag of colorful blocks and set them down.

“How about we try to build a small house?” She suggested. Amity was a little hesitant but got out a couple blocks and started building. It actually worked quite a bit! She would get a little frustrated every now and then but she didn’t seem to be getting bored. When the house was complete, she stimmed happily. 

“Good job on trying something new, kid,” Eda said, giving Amity a little sticker. She squealed and hugged Eda. Then, she pulled away and signed

‘Thank you, E-D-A, you awesome!’

Eda smiled and ruffled her hair

“No problem, kiddo,”

[selfpositiveundertale]

Update

CW: discussion of trauma (the trauma was a bad car accident)

I was able to pay for my dog's vet appointment and her medicine thanks to the person who paypal'd me ❤️❤️❤️ She isn't happy about having to take medicine again but hopefully this will be the last round, it's pretty much just probiotics and something to settle her stomach because the antibiotics really did a number on her tummy.

My hands ache from the crash but it's no worse than the soreness after crocheting for several hours. I can do some crocheting but I find thicker yarn much easier and less painful to work with right now. That said, I got a bunch of chenille yarn a while back and I have some larger plush versions of my Ralsei amogus dolls in the works. The first one is almost done, I just have to assemble and attach the hat. Will post a pic when he's done. I want to have at least 2 each with and without squeakers made and then I might reopen my Etsy shop and list them. They will cost more due to the cost of materials, but I'll probably mostly have dolls made of the chenille yarn for a while, at least until I can work with normal yarn without pain within minutes again. I'm hoping to sell a couple by Tuesday because I have another chiropractic appointment that day I'll need to pay for and my husband doesn't get paid again until Friday.

I'm still trying to process what happened. I'm seeing my therapist tomorrow and I will be discussing it with her. This therapist is new to me, my previous one that I had for a few years left the place I'm with and is now working elsewhere. We've only had like 2 sessions but she seems nice. It's just a little frustrating having to break in a new therapist all over again but not really a problem so I'm not worried.

I drove today, to take my dog to the vet. It was scary. I didn't realize how paranoid I would be of other drivers, fully expecting anyone and everyone to whip out in front of me when they're waiting to exit a parking lot to the road or suddenly veer into my lane when they're right beside me and I panicked every time I saw them. It took a lot of self control to not slam on the brakes and to remind myself that other people are not going to do things like that. I have to remember I know how to drive safely and most people are not going to be so reckless as to do the dangerous things my brain is expecting them to do. My anxiety around driving is almost back to where it was while I was still very new at it, terrified to be on the road with other people and having no trust in them and even less trust in myself. I have to build up my confidence again and I have no idea how long it will take.

I have to say, getting hit by one huge trauma all at once sure feels different from the trauma I'm used to, which is the kind that builds up over many years in a toxic and dysfunctional family. It's kind of surreal, I find myself wondering if it was all a dream but then I see the bruises on my legs and feel the ache in my palms and how stiff and sore my body still is even after a chiropractic appointment and see the empty space where I would have parked my vehicle and I have to remember it really happened. I get this weird chill that seeps up the back of my head like cold water in my hair when I remember it. And yeah, I'm grateful I walked away with nothing worse than bruises and stuff my chiropractor fixes literally all the time anyway, but I wish it didn't happen.

It's all such a mess. Right now I'm just trying to focus on keeping myself fed with good food and busy with things that can make some money. I'm making chili tomorrow because it's one of the less expensive things I can make, and also I could use some comfort food after the week I've had. And maybe the familiar routine of cooking the beans will help soothe my brain. I only use dry beans as I can't stand the texture of canned beans. Cooking them isn't difficult or complicated, just time consuming and I think the 2 or 3 hours it'll take to cook them will do me some good.

It's after midnight and I'm exhausted, so I'm gonna try to get some sleep. Goodnight, and stay determined.

❤️🧡💛💚🩵💙💜

[metamorphosisff]

|Chapter 17| Spread Your Wings

The dark cloud that had been hovering over me had started to dissipate last week around the same time I met with a therapist for the first time. My reaction to Trevor tearing my apartment to shreds did not stop at pulling away from Xavier. The week after I barely went outside out of work and spent hours in bed crying. Crying because one man’s entitlement had upended so much, most importantly the illusion that I was keeping it together. Mari was not having that though and after exactly seven days after that she stormed into my apartment to shake me out of it. That day we went shopping all over downtown Brooklyn to get new things for the living room. We were even able to find small vials for the remaining ashes of my grandmother I managed to save. It was what I needed to start feeling human but I went through the motions the following week. It wasn’t until Jazz dragged us to some off Broadway play that I slowly realized I owed it to myself to get help. So I started therapy because a wise man once told me talking about my problems might make them easier to get through. 

Sweeping a glance over my apartment as I got my purse together, my mind projects Xavier standing before me with those eyes glossed over in as much pain as I was in. Taking a deep breath, I shake away the memory. I prayed he was doing okay because for the moment it felt safer to keep my distance. I had put too much onto him which was not fair. He had his own problems to contend with and expecting him to add mine into the mix wasn’t sensible. That did not mean his absence wasn’t felt though because a day had yet to go by without me thinking of him. 

The sound of my phone ringing with an incoming Facetime made me roll my eyes. I was trying to head out and get some food but that would have to wait because it was Lonso who was calling. We haven’t spoken in a few weeks so there was no way I could miss his call without him going off on a tangent in our text thread.

“Hey,” I greeted, once his bronze face filled the screen. His curls were shorn close to the scalp in the way military men often sported their hair. He was dressed in uniform and sitting in a nondescript office with a pair of slate gray AirPod Maxes over his ears. “What’s up?”

“Nothing, I was just thinking about you and decided to call. I am surprised you answered though since you seem to specialize in dodging me,” he said, with a pointed stare. 

“Don’t make me regret doing so by being an ass,” I said, with a roll of my eyes which he chuckles at.

“I’m fucking with you, partly. I worry about you and it doesn’t always show in the best of ways,” he said.

“That’s putting it modestly. You are overbearing at best and a pain in the ass at least. There is never any in between with you. I can’t handle that,” I said, finally coming clean about why I avoided conversations with him. Well, one of the reasons. The main reason.

“Cause you be hiding shit when I can help you. Like why Mari had to tell me about what that nigga did?” Lonso asked, folding his hands in front of him. His frustration was slow to start, opposite of mine which was explosive but I can tell he was trying to remain calm so we could have a full conversation. “Like what the fuck Jamila? You know I would have found a way to come up here.”

“And do what? He’s locked up and not coming out for a long ass time. I handled it,” I said, raking my hand over tangled curls. My hair hadn’t been a priority lately but it needed to become one. I made a mental note to take care of it while Lonzo shook his head at me.

“Be there! I could have helped you clean up and replace stuff. What happened was scary as fuck and to hear about it from someone else days later hurt. I can’t lie,” Lonzo said.

“I’m not trying to hurt you on purpose. I’m just used to doing things by myself and asking for help is hard because I don’t like being let down,” I said.

There had been so many times when I was a teenager that I asked for help and people always feel short or never fully followed through. After a few times I realized the only person I could count on in this world was me. Life became easier once I accepted that I had to make sure I was okay at the end of the day. While I did have some help from Mari, I tried not to lean on her too much because raising Papi was a lot. With her I was decisive about what I decided to let her in on as not to worry her. It never even crossed my mind to tell Lonzo about what happened because he wasn’t in my daily orbit. He had been reduced to unanswered calls and texts I’d sometimes reply to depending on my mood.

Nodding his head, he said, “I get that but I haven’t let you down. Anything I ever said I was going to do, I did even when I was broke.”

That was true especially when I was in college and struggling to feed myself after paying rent. Lonzo found a way to send me a hundred dollars every two weeks until I got a better job. Almost a whole year he did that. When I got the flu bad one year he came up from Virginia to take care of me because Mari, having a toddler at the time, couldn't. However it was during that time that he decided he had to hover over every decision I made. 

“Our parents made some terrible decisions that affected us differently and I hate that you got the shorter end of the stick. The one thing they did right was us though. I don’t want us to keep on the way we are, sniping at each other because we used to be close. If you died with our relationship being like it is…,” he stopped to take a deep breath. Lonso wasn’t an emotional person so to see his eyes redden caused mine to as well.

He looked away from the screen for a second but I caught the way his bottom lip trembled and immediately I felt bad. 

“I thought about that too,” I said, taking a shaky breath. “I don’t want to fight with you Lonso, I swear I don’t but I need you to be my brother, not my de facto parental figure. I’m grown now and yes sometimes I struggle but I always find my way.”

“You do and I’m not taking that from you but there’s no harm in letting other people walk beside you. I worry about you, I haven’t stopped worrying about you since the day we left,” Lonso said.

That had been a shitty day because Ms. Lena didn’t let anyone know the day of the move. Later she explained that she didn’t want to be talked out of her decision or be further manipulated by my parents. When I got older, I somewhat understood where she was coming from but that didn’t take away from how cruel the act was. Our father had to physically rip Lonzo from me because even at fourteen he knew what leaving would mean. 

“I’ve been hearing that a lot lately. Guess that means I should listen huh?” I said, causing him to smirk.

“That’s exactly what that shit means,” he cracked.

“I’m going to do better,” I said, drumming my fingers on the counter top.

“Me too MiMi, me too.”

Hearing my childhood nickname doesn’t make me cringe like it normally does when he uses it. For the first time in a long time, we smile at each other.

It’s late at night and try as I might, I can not fall asleep which isn’t a surprise. Insomnia had been a dear friend ever since the tornado known as Trevor ripped through my apartment. He took away my ability to feel safe in the home I grew up in and I would hate him forever for that. Having enough tossing and turning, I get up and slide on some sweatpants. Grabbing my keys and phone, I head across the hall to let myself into Mari’s apartment. The light in the living room is on but everything else is off leaving the apartment quiet with the exception of humming appliances. Out of habit, I pad my way down the hallway and stop at the first door on the left. Slowly I turn the knob and find Papi with a sheet over his and a glow coming from a screen alongside the sounds of a video game. Flipping on the light, I watch amused as he quickly pokes his head out.

“Auntie?” he questions, eyes blinking to adjust to the light. He takes one look at me and knows something is off but like the intuitive kid he is, doesn’t press me. Instead he lifts his Switch in the air. “You tryna play?”

“Hell yeah,” I said, walking over to sit beside him. 

“If I win, can I stay up for at least another hour?” he asks, knowing I’m about to tell him this is his last round of whatever he’s playing.

“Yes but if I win, it’s light out. It’s already going on eleven and your mom will kill us both if you're still up when she gets home,” I said.

“True,” he said, as he passed me a controller. Propping up the Switch, I see we’re playing Mario Kart. “I couldn’t sleep though.”

“Me either. Anything in particular on your mind?” I ask, as he starts the round.

“Yeah I was thinking about how our building needs better security. Like if our door downstairs actually locked how it was supposed to that nig- I mean that bum wouldn’t have been able to do what he did,” Papi said.

“Maybe,” I said, trying to figure out how to approach this conversation with him. “But I don’t want you worrying about that okay?”

“I can’t help it. That was messed up and I hope your boyfriend beats his ass,” Papi said.

I tear my eyes away from the screen just in time to see the serious expression etched across his features. His eyebrows are sunken as his lips twist to the side.

“Xavier is not my boyfriend and stop cursing,” I said.

“Yes he is, he takes you out and makes you happy. He also buys me stuff by the way. Can you tell him I’d like some more X-Men stuff?” he asked.

“I’ll see what I can do Papi but I make no promises,” I said.

“I’ll take that,” Papi says, causing me to chuckle.

We end up going for best out of three when he wins the first but in the end I let him have his extra hour. With one last warning for him to keep his eye on the clock because I will deny agreeing to let him stay up if caught, I leave him to his lonesome and go into the living room. 

As I snuggle into the couch to wait for Mari to come home, my phone vibrates against my thigh where it is resting. Seeing Xavier’s name on the screen on the text notification sends my heart racing against my chest. Papi spoke him up and he must have heard it from wherever he was. My hands grow sweaty as I unlock my phone to read the message.

Hey, I know you still taking your time but I just want you to know that I love you and I miss you. I especially miss you talking during our Marvel marathon. I think I miss your snoring too (not the sound but knowing you're that close). Nothing and I mean nothing, will ever change that baby. I’m here. Take your time.

Hot tears splash onto the screen by the time I have reread the message for the tenth time. A weight is removed slightly from my shoulders but there is no real reprieve. I want so badly to call him but I toss my phone to the side. I’m not ready to talk to him but I should be. 

The scent of Jam fills the air as Mari takes a rat tail comb and makes another part in the back of my head. After waking up and sending Papi outside to play, we decided today would help each other with our hair. I had touched up the bleach on her roots once we finished eating breakfast and now she was returning the favor. I turned my phone over and over in my hands contemplating what I was going to say to Xavier. Contemplating if I was ready to say something at all. I had resolved that he should hear from me last night and thought sleeping on it would help me get there. All I’ve managed to do is lament on the fact that in a dark moment I pushed him away instead of embracing the lifeline he was tossing me. I did not have to face the aftermath of Trevor’s destructive behavior alone but I chose to because cleaning up other people’s messes alone was second nature to me. I did not want to have an audience but that’s not what he was offering. He was offering a helping hand and it took me longer than it should have to realize that.

“I miss him,” I sighed, raking my hand over the few finished braids Mari had placed over my shoulder. 

“So call him,” Mari said, as that was the simplest thing ever after the month of silence between us. The text he sent last night still has my heart racing and made me realize how much I miss his presence in my life. “And before you start, no, it’s really not that hard.”

I open my mouth to respond but my phone ringing in my hands steals my attention. A picture of Jazz and I fills the screen with an incoming Facetime call. I hit the green button to accept it and in seconds, she’s filling the screen with a full beat face and a slicked back black ponytail. 

“You called right on time Jazz, your daughter is in here tripping,” Mari says, peeking from behind me. 

Jazz cackles while I shoot Mari a side eye which she ignores with a mush of my head and a command to keep my head down. I adjust how I’m holding the phone, lowering it further into my lap so that Jazz can see my face and Mari can braid comfortably.

“Gon’ head and tell me what’s going on Birdie. I see it all over your face,” Jazz said, adjusting her AirPod. I can tell she’s on break at the center she works at because this is when she usually calls me to check in or to confirm any upcoming plans.

“Xavier texted me last night and it made me realize that I miss him…a lot actually,” I sighed. 

“I’m not hearing the problem. Not only has Mr. Clipboard been respecting the space you asked for but he didn’t take it as a dismissal. He probably reaffirmed that he loved you, right?” Jazz asked. 

I nodded my head and am reminded by Mari, gently putting it at the right angle to keep still. “He did but-

“But what?” Mari sighed exasperatedly behind me. “You love that nigga real bad.”

“And do,” Jazz chimed in, causing them to laugh. 

“But,” I said, over them, “I blinked and a month went by y’all. There are things broken in me that I thought I could ignore but I can’t and I don’t know if time will ever fix it. He doesn’t deserve the mess that I am.”

“Now that ain’t never been a kept secret baby girl and Xavier has always known that you have some baggage. I’m sure he has his own because we all have our shit Birdie but that’s a lazy excuse to push him away. It sounds like you have let your fear get comfortable in the driver's seat,” Jazz said, instantly calling me to task.

She has a keen sense of knowing when I’m stepping around an answer. Where Mari has gotten used to waiting me out, Jazz has no patience for it. 

“I’m afraid that one day he’s going to decide that he can’t handle me or my shit. Like he’ll realize maybe I’m not worth the trouble after all and I know how fucked up that sounds. My therapist says it’s easy to talk ourselves out of a good thing but I don’t know. It keeps me up at night because I have never been loved like he loves me and we have only scratched the surface of what we could be,” I said. 

“Your therapist is right. Love is a risk, being vulnerable and open is a risk, not loving at all is a risk. Everything in life comes with a risk even the choice to do nothing is a risk because you might miss out on your person or an opportunity. Ultimately you have to decide what outcome you can live with,” Jazz said. 

“Right, and missing out on Xavier will be one of the dumbest things you have ever done and I’ve watched you shave your eyebrows off,” Mari added.

“Regardless of how much he loves you, you have to love yourself and believe you are worthy because your worthiness is eternal. It shows in your attitude, in your walk, in your eyes. Some days will be harder than others to do so but you have to,” Jazz said.

“Sure do and Mila, babe putting Xavier to the side for a moment, you have been more mindful lately. Less snappy and more patient. That little orange vest stint put some things in perspective for you and he came along while you were already in motion,” Mari said. 

“I’m trying but I feel like that shit with Trevor’s dumb ass set me back because bad things keep happening and I realize I never had a break. There is always something and I want there to be peace so bad. In order for me to be at peace I have to heal but my healing is always interrupted and that makes me want to give up. Why is maintaining change so fucking hard?” I sighed, feeling tears align the bottom of my eyes. 

I was sick and tired of crying. Ever since that night I do it easily and it leaves me feeling like a constant torrential downpour. The dam I put up in my teen years had eroded and there was no longer anything between me and my feelings. Though I’m exhausted from crying these last few weeks I let these tears fall too because they feel different. They aren’t sad, they are cleansing. 

“Because change is scary but remaining the same keeps you stagnant and you can’t grow that way Birdie. Actually, that’s the quickest way to die. You deserve to live not just survive but live and you are well on your own way. This really is the time to push past against all your fear and hesitation. You’ll be better for it in the long run,” Jazz said.

Not just live but survive. 

Taking a deep breath, I nodded my head because Jazz was right. I was taking the steps to better my life by going to job interviews, working on my attitude, trying to fix my relationship with my brother and getting my therapist. I deserved the happiness I got from and with Xavier to balance out all of the rest. 

“Y’all are right,” I breathed out. “I just get stuck in my head sometimes and that inner voice is a bitch to drown out.”

“That’s why we’re here. To be loud as hell and tell you to chill the hell out and go get your man,” Mari said, placing a kiss to the top of my head.

“Period. Take life by the reins Birdie and I’ll see y’all for brunch this weekend. Can’t wait to hear how it goes. Toodles,” Jazz says with a quick wave as someone enters her office calling her name. She makes an annoyed expression before slapping on a quick smile which we laugh at as we wave back. Shortly the call disconnects and I lock my phone back.

“I love how she makes plans and just expects us to show up, any other plans or obligations be damned,” Mari giggles as she finishes another braid.

“I’ve learned to embrace it. Her plans have been a bright spot this past month,” I sniffle, as I wipe the last of my tears from my cheeks.

“Agreed, be giving me something to do other than work and cart Papi around,” Mari says, as she makes a new part. “But back to you real quick. Text him back right now. You have had your space but he deserves for his effort to be met with some of your own.”

I nod my head and unlock my phone. “Never thought I’d see the day you would be on a man's side.”

“He’s not just any man, he is the man that returned your real smile. So unless he does something extremely out of pocket, I fuck with him,” Mari said. 

Her approval means the world to me because Mari is the only family I see every day. Without her I would be adrift and I haven’t always brought the best people around. Xavier passed both her and Papi’s test without even having to try hard because he’s a genuinely good person. Opening up our text thread I try to type out a message but nothing feels adequate enough.

“What time do you think you’ll be done with my hair?” I asked.

“In like maybe two hours and no, you cannot wait until after I’m done to text him because that defeats the purpose of me saying ‘right now’ girl,” Mari said.

“That’s not why I’m asking. What I need to say, shouldn’t be done through text. I’m going to go see him,” I said, turning around to look at her. 

Throwing her hands up in the air, Mari shouts, “Hallelujah! She has awakened with the spirit of common sense.”

“Not too much on me!”

[trans-axolotl]

hi, I really like your blog and your antipsych thoughts have been very helpful to me. i hope this is ok to ask for advice (sorry i have brain fog and this question is vague)? i think i'm looking for 'unconventional' advice or suggestions, the kind that someone in the psych system would not necessarily recommend to me.

i have had a bad history with therapy, but i very much need some kind of mental support that i am not getting otherwise in my life (issues like CPTSD, DID, among other things). im in a position where i /can/ go to therapy, and i've been with a therapist that specializes in the things that are causing me the most problems for a year and theyre fine (i.e. has not ever helped me figure out anything about how to improve my life but has been someone who can perscribe me stuff, and hasn't done anything actively harmful to me like other therapists and psychiatrists have), but going is so upsetting for some reason (maybe because the therapy environment has been so bad in the past?) and not at all helpful. it's useful for me to have a relationship to a psychiatrist/therapist for medication and other 'navigating the system' reasons, but it's absolutely unhelpful. i am very frustrated and disillusioned with the whole concept of 'therapy' in general (maybe due to my history)!! but i don't know how else to get help!

it's harder because of the brain fog. i also feel very isolated partially because i'm in a not great environment, and partially because i have multiple mental illnesses in addition to not being a very nice person. i have felt really let down by supposed friends i've come to for help who just said therapy speak stuff like 'you should get help....' and 'sorry i don't have the emotional bandwidth to help <3' and stuff like that. it really makes me feel like i'm too messed up to be able to ask for help from regular people and i have to go to the psych industry but of course i've already been failed by them too :(

hey anon!

I think what you've said makes so much sense. I feel like we're so often told "go get help" but when we do try to seek support, it isn't as simple as just going and easily finding a therapist who is able to provide all the support and care we need. It can be so hard to find and pay for therapy in the first place, harder still to find someone who specializes in a therapy style to meet our needs, and sometimes we might not just be in a place in our life where we are in an environment that allows us to do in depth therapy work. And I just want to say that it isn't your fault if therapy isn't meeting your needs right now--that doesn't mean that you're failing at therapy. You absolutely aren't alone in feeling dissatisfied with therapy and wanting other options.

For me, what's helped when I've been considering making changes about how I approach my mental health has first been sitting down and really taking a thorough look at what things are working and what things aren't working. It seems like you've done a lot of that already--you know that it's helpful to have a therapeutic relationship to get meds and for help in the system, you know that the therapy environment hasn't been particuarly helpful for other types of healing work, and it seems like another thing you're thinking about is how to get mental support from your friends and other people in your everyday life. I think those are really good starting places to consider where you want to go from here. It might be helpful to make a list of what feels like priorities to focus on right now--do you want to develop more skills for navigating crisis? Do you want to focus on changing your relationship with dissociation? harm reduction for self destructive behaviors? building resilience and cultivating relationships in your life? There's no right or wrong answers here--you're going to be the expert on what feels most important right now.

I also just want to say that I think it's really shitty when we're made to feel like we're too crazy or too needy or too messed up to be able to be cared for and supported in our community. I've definitely had people tell me that, and it really hurts and makes me feel hopeless, like I'm always going to be struggling and that there's no chance that I'll be able to get better. But fuck that. We deserve to have meaningful connections in our community, access to resources that help us, and to be able to build resilient relationships where getting emotional support isn't considered an unmanageable burden, even if we're mad/mentally ill/ neurodivergent. I'm sorry that you haven't been able to rely on your friends and community that way, although I know it's hard when everyone we know is struggling and people don't have the energy or skills or knowledge to be able to help each other.

This is getting long, so I'm just going to list off a ton of random tips and suggestions, and I hope some of them might resonate with you.

Join a peer support group aligned with antipsych values. Hearing Voices Network, Alternatives to Suicide with the Wildflower alliance, Multiplied by One, FEDUP trans/intersex eating disorder support groups are all great options.

harm reduction! this can be especially applicable for self-destructive behaviors, but just in general moving outside of an "abstinence-only model." working to understand your actions on a spectrum of totally chaotic, unmanaged behaviors to more managed, intentional relationships with those behaviors. embracing any positive change as an important step instead of self-blame and all-or-nothing thinking.

Trying to think of the best way to describe what I'm thinking here, so I might not have the best phrasing. But basically, spending time separating your ideas for what wellbeing and quality of life look like for you from the psychiatric system's ideas of what a "normal," "healthly," quality of life looks like. For me, this looked like realizing that I wasn't actually interested in getting rid of all my hallucinations, but instead I just wanted to lessen the distress I experienced and find a way to hallucinate without panicking. So I guess just in general--really exploring what is actually important to you for your wellbeing and not limiting yourself to mainstream definitions of "recovery."

Unconventional coping skills, or coping skills that traditional psychiatry deems "risky." I've talked with some people who things like getting tattoos and piercings are actually incredibly healing for them, and are an important part of their "therapeutic" journey. Not going to go into detail or promote other "risky" coping skills on Tumblr lmao, but more just say that it's okay if there's things that therapists view as risky that you might have another perspective on how it fits into your personal healing.

Building up your and your loved ones capacity for community care. This can be a really hard one, because I know it always frustrated me when I would see people talking online about how great things like care webs or the power of peer support when I just didn't have any of that in my physical everyday life. So I'm not just going to put this here like it's a magical solution or something that's easy to accomplish. It's something that can take a ton of work and we're allowed to be frustrated about that. I think one strategy that helped me with this was spending a lot of time building my own understanding of my own capacity to help, my own needs, and what ways I would like to be cared for. That helped me start small, just by having conversations with my loved ones when I wasn't in crisis and saying "Hey, this is how I would like things to go when I'm in crisis. This is something that helps me when I'm hallucinating. This is a way you could let me know that you can't support me tonight but still leaves room for us to have connection. This is how I can help you. Let's talk openly together and develop and practice how we want to care for each other." Starting with just one person and one conversation really went a long way for me in terms of eventually building up an actual support network and for me was super instrumental in healing work.

Setting out an hour a week that's my "self therapizing time." just using one hour a week to look up new resources, try out new skills, journal, do self-inquiry, participate in activism, do something that brings me joy, read something new about mental health, literally anything that feels intentional in that hour. trying out a lot of new things and quitting a lot of new things!

Incorporating your physical needs. I'm sure we've heard a million times things like "get sleep, nourish yourself, go outside," and all that is great but often feels fucking impossible when we're mentally doing not great. but I guess just saying it can be good to be aware of how our physical body impacts our mental health in other ways. things like trying to get our sensory needs met, embracing movement that feels good + making space for rest, embracing things that bring our physical body pleasure whether that's tasty food, sex or other kinds of physical intimacy with other people, if it's using substances in a way that feels helpful or joyful or fun--anything really!

Here's a bunch of random orgs and resources that I have found helpful: Fireweed Collective, Wildflower Alliance, Project LETS, Mapping our Madness, Mad Survival Tools, Organizing Guide for Psychiatric Survivors, MindFreedom Resources, Multiplied by one (I can't personally vouch because I haven't been to their groups, but I have a friend with DID who attends these groups and had positive things to say about them.)

I'd also add on this book: "Psychosis, Dissociation, and Trauma: Evolving perspectives on Severe Psychopathology" although I do want to give a warning that this book is a heavy academic text that has a lot of clinical and stigmatizing language. For me, it had some helpful information that helped me make connections between my experiences of trauma, dissociation, and psychosis, but I would not recommend reading it unless you feel like you're in the right headspace and can deal with wading through a lot of the psychiatric narrative.

These are all just some things that sometimes work for me, so please feel free to disregard anything that doesn't resonate with you. I'd also love it if followers could add on with any tips, resources, any "unconventional" advice!

thanks for reaching out, anon, and I hope you have a good night 💜

[the-casbah-way]

gender rant below

it's so frustrating to me how systemic and collective transphobia is so embedded into literally everything that it even rots the minds of people who otherwise seem left wing or progressive. my mother has always been a fairly radical leftist and she is overwhelmingly accepting and unquestioning of all of my trans friends. but as soon as i told her i wanted to start testosterone and get surgery she's suddenly started spouting terf rhetoric left and right without even realising she's doing it. my whole life she has let me dress and present however i want and she has always been the kind of parent that just leaves me alone and lets me do my own thing. but now she's giving me her opinion of what i wear and what clothes i buy because she'd clearly prefer me to look feminine because she now equates my masculinity not with the radical gender nonconformity she respects and enjoys but with explicit transness. and she never had a problem with transness until she realised that it also applied to me. i was her oldest daughter so i was the one she projected onto and lived through vicariously and so when i start doing things she wouldn't personally do it feels disappointing to her i suppose. when i was younger she was constantly telling me that i was everything she wanted to be but never got to and because she doesn't believe that she can still achieve those things she wants me to do it instead. she doesn't even know she's doing it so i don't know how to fix it but i really do wish she would get therapy because this is just one of the multiple ways in which she projects these issues onto me and makes me feel like i have to be somebody else just to please her. she says she'd do anything to stop me being miserable but she doesn't want me to do this even though i've told her that the reason i'm miserable is because of dysphoria. she keeps saying that she's sorry she didn't take me to the doctor sooner and that she can't afford a good therapist for me because if i had gotten help in my childhood i wouldn't be "like this" now and i know she's only saying that because she doesn't know how these things work but it sucks so much to hear that. for me it has taken so much work and so much courage to admit that i want to transition even to myself so to have someone enforce all of my doubts and fears out loud and to have that someone be the person whose opinion i have always cared about the most is just rough. my identity just makes so much sense to me and it just feels so right that i can't possibly explain it to someone who doesn't also understand and i have told her that she doesn't need to understand she just has to be kind and accepting but. god i hate being misunderstood like this. it sucks so much to have something that feels so special and exciting and beautiful be deemed scary and ugly and weird by someone so close to me. i know this is just part of being trans so i've got to get used to it but i'm so tired of working through all of these layers of internalised queerphobia only to get hit in the face by more external stuff that makes me feel absolutely awful about myself

[woozapooza]

Miscellaneous post-s5 Sopranos thoughts

This is just a selection of the stuff I wrote in my journal this season.

Adriana La Cerva suffered more than Jesus.

One of my favorite things to think about in any TV show is character parallels, and The Sopranos is fantastic on that front, yet for all the time I’ve spent thinking about which Sopranos characters parallel each other, somehow it took five whole seasons for me to notice what now seems like one of the most obvious pairs: Silvio and Melfi! They’re both Tony’s confidants and his two main advisers. Melfi is kind of his emotional consigliere, and Silvio is his…business therapist? What I’m trying to say is that they complement each other in their roles in Tony’s life, and that was (finally) extremely clear in “All Due Respect.” Despite looking at Tony from such different perspectives, they give him essentially the same advice about the Tony B. situation. They both conclude that Tony S. is using noble rhetoric of love and loyalty to mask what’s really motivating him. For Silvio, that motivation is “pride” and “a problem with authority,” and for Melfi, it’s “guilt and shame” (I suspect they’re both right to some degree, though I also think they’re both being unfair by implying that noble motives and selfish ones are mutually exclusive—come on, guys, he contains multitudes!) but they agree that to make the right decision, Tony needs to be honest with himself.

Another interesting parallel: in “Long Term Parking,” Christopher essentially does to Adriana the same thing he’s mad at Tony for doing to him. He “gave [Tony S.] pieces of [his] soul,” yet Tony S. favors the loose cannon Tony B. over him. Well, Adriana gave Christopher pretty much her entire soul, yet Christopher chooses the ungrateful Tony S. over her. The difference, of course, is that Tony S.’s choice (pre-“All Due Respect”) only costs Christopher his position, while Chris’s choice costs Adriana her life. And Adriana died knowing that Christopher had chosen Tony over her, his ride-or-die. With an emphasis on the “die,” I guess. At least Pussy had some comfort in his final moments. Adriana had none.

In “Sentimental Education,” Carmela’s relationship with Wegler failed because she tried to treat it as a transactional arrangement (well, and also because he was a pretentious misogynist). In “Long Term Parking,” it’s a transaction that brings Carmela and Tony back together. I’ve seen some people paint her relationship with Wegler as pure conniving on her part, but I don’t think that’s fair. It’s clearly how she’s used to relationships working.

In that same episode, I was SO proud of Carmela for starting to wake up to the absurdity of some of the things the Catholic church has taught her. 

I’m glad Carmela and Tony are back together if only because it was so painful to see how utterly alone she was during the separation. The suffocating feeling I got from watching her try to escape her awful husband’s clutches while also being vilified by her son was reminiscent of the feeling I got watching Breaking Bad, except worse, because Walter Jr. was never as vicious to Skyler as Anthony Jr. is to Carmela. 

I’m generally a Meadow apologist, but she had some unbearable moments this season, especially in “Unidentified Black Males.” The drama with Finn was frustrating (and to be fair, Finn could probably have handled it better, too, but Meadow was worse), but the worst part, IMO, was what she said to Carmela: “Haven't you thought beyond being dependent on a man?” Girl that is LITERALLY WHAT SHE’S TRYING TO DO NOW. Going back to the topic of Carmela’s isolation, it’s maddening that both her “progressive” daughter and her not-even-pretending-to-be-progressive husband essentially blame her for not being able to take care of herself, while also refusing to give her credit for trying to finally carve out an independent existence.

On that topic, this season continues the theme of what I call the obstacle of expectations: the fact that change is far harder when it seems that no one around you believes that you can change. (Which is not to say that this skepticism is always unearned.) Carmela tries to have a relationship with a normal guy, but concludes that “because [she] was married to a man like Tony, [her] motives will always be called into question.” Tony greatly impresses Melfi by not hooking up with Adriana (side note, it was really sweet how proud Melfi was of him), but he’s widely believed to have done so nonetheless, so he concludes, “I might as well have fucked her.” Then he says a sarcastic “thanks” to Melfi, the one person who consistently believes in his ability to change even after all he’s put her through, as if she’s the problem. Christopher literally says that “Tony don’t believe a person can change” and is therefore holding his past as an addict against him; in the following episode, when the Tonys are making jokes at his expense, Chris, in a moment of genuinely impressive maturity, says, “Sobriety's hard enough without having to get mocked for it.” All of Janice’s work in anger management is undone in a matter of seconds by her brother deliberately trying to undo it. Tony B. justifiably complains about the stigma of being an ex-con, although he’s a complicated case because he backslides into criminality at a moment when no one is being prejudiced towards him.

On that note, I never quite felt like I got Tony B. as a character. For example, I couldn’t really make sense of why he backslid so dramatically in “Sentimental Education.” I enjoyed him nonetheless, although a large part of that is surely due to the fact that it’s basically impossible not to enjoy Steve Buscemi. 

This post is getting enormous so I won’t go into detail about this, but the stories people tell—about themselves and about others, to themselves and to others—stood out as a huge theme this season. Excellent! Very Black Sails!

“The Test Dream” was so much fun. More shows should do episodes that let them bring back legions of dead characters.

Have I mentioned how much I love Melfi? No I haven’t because it’s beyond the capacity of human language to express. This season she was in 62% of the episodes (8/13). Next season she’s in 71% of the episodes (15/21), which is an improvement. I think she should be in a million percent of the episodes, but I’m also grateful that she’s ever been on my screen for even a single second.

[sutille]

do you ever just feel the void taking place in your heart again?

it's subtle at first. it is fear of losing the ones you love the most. anger at the suffering they have to endure. it is love at its most pure. and you try to talk about it, and you get that comfort. that support. so it isn't really that noticeable.

then food becomes so... tasteless. like sometimes you're just filling yourself with the bare minimum and other times there's no stopping. exercise just feels so hard. and then it isn't so subtle anymore. you know it's hanging around. waiting for you to realise it¡has never been gone.

then the things you adore, not the people, the anime, books, music, stories, videos, passions, investigations, your purpose, they stop filling you. you know they make you smile. but the void is starting to take place all over. it covers you as if it was your very skin. and you cannot concentrate or bring yourself to remember how it felt to enjoy all that stuff because it hurts.

and that is so unfair.

unfair to the ones who believe in me. unfair to the ones that rely on me. unfair to the ones that i left hanging because i can't fucking answer my phone. unfair to the ones who have given me all that i have. unfair to the ones that love me because they would get hurt if i went missing. unfair to the countless therapists I have lied to saying "i think I'm better".

but the void does not care for it. not a sliver of something, anything. it just stays there. as if i was their home. as if i couldn't live without it being there.

and i just want it to stop. i want it to stop coming back every six months and making me question if i will ever be worthy of being okay. making me entertain the thoughts that are never quiet, but when they seem to want to materialise, it means i want to die. i plan to die by my own hand.

i just want this to stop. i want to stop feeling this way. and it sucks because it is not about the meds. i am trying to live and accept that maybe i need them. but it is so frustrating to know that, if i dort take them, i feel like shit. i stop enjoying things and my motivation just disappears. is my body so broken? is the me, without the medication (which only seems to get more expensive by the day), so incapable of something as basic as wanting to live.

and sometimes i look at alcohol or smoking, but my mind is too stubborn because a) it would be too expensive and b) it is bad for the environment, and hell if i won't try my hardest to do no harm.

just. fuck. I don't know.

it is not great. this. I don't like feeling this way. it just. it drains me. and i don't want to live this way.

[callieponders]

NGL sometimes I look at the crew's tweets about him needing to stop being in anger mode 24/7 and reintegrate into society, and I wonder: are we supposed to expect him to work through that by himself? Do we expect great emotional regulation and self-awareness from an elementary schooler in an abusive household? He absolutely shouldn't be redirecting his anger at the people around him (note: Hazel. she didn't deserve that ire at all and doesn't owe him any patience about it), but I can't help looking at him and thinking that he needs, like. I dunno. A therapist. An adult. Someone or something that's actually guaranteed to help him out a little. The adults present in the show... didn't seem very interested in doing that, despite seeming to know what his actual core issue was? Maddening. Anyway

(disclaimer before anything i say. i just need yall to know this show could be the worst thing ive ever seen and id still hope the best for the crew bc its their job and people need to eat alright. that being said i do enjoy the show, please dont take this as me saying they need to NEVER WORK AGAIN ala nostalgia critic style or something)

that wording is so funny though, reintegrate into society... the boy is a small child not someone coming out of prison

but seriously this is exactly the type of stuff im thinking, i dont really go on twitter much anymore because i dislike it so i wasnt aware of the things the crew said (and dont envy them because oh man this was a divisive finale it seems). i dont expect an episode like "dev goes to therapy" and the wacky adventures of him going to therapy or something, but im really hoping in s2 they have peri held more accountable for majorly screwing up here and trying to do right by dev with another chance given to him.

the frustrating thing is i cant blame people defending the choices because some people are genuinely really bad at voicing their opinion/critique, especially because it feels like a lot of people arent having the balls to actually point out peri, even cosmo and (frankly the worse one of the two bc she was so much harder on dev) wanda are a bigger blame for the situation with dev. of course people are gonna assume people are putting the responsibility on hazel, id also be defensive about that because thats a ridiculous thing to expect, but like nah its clear its not her responsibility. she is also 10 and has a world outside of dev, and dev SHOULD be held accountable for his actions in regards to lashing out at others around him when hes upset. the fact hes given more critique than the adults around him that are meant to guide him and help him is the bigger issue than that alone.

on that same note, hazel should also be held accountable for the same things, like saying devs problems werent that deep and having wanda, a FAIRY GODPARENT, basically agree??? also when she was like "oh friends work things out" i didnt hear no apology for not hearing dev out or at least for leaving him in the dark on if theyre friends or not. and the thing is i dont expect her to do that on her own, because shes 10, but theyre fictional 10 year olds who will have more maturity than most real kids either way, so like... yknow?

additionally its kind of a double standard either way, if you dont expect hazel to act mature, why on gods green earth would you expect DEV to??? and hazel, compared to dev, has people to guide her the right way and people that are patient with her, meanwhile dev doesnt get that, the most hes ever gotten is hazel and THATS NOT HAZELS JOB!!! im not saying the writers are claiming it is, its just that its frustrating that the writing has ended up with her feeling like the only person who really gives a damn yknow

[clunelover]

Because it’s fun and interesting to me, I am going to write all my characteristics that I previously thought of as just quirks and now I think could be signs of autism. I can also use this as a reference when I talk to my therapist:

As a child, could not look people in the eye. I was berated for this and forced to look people in the eye (ugh…) and as a result I am better at it but still find it pretty uncomfortable and often get the balance of how much eye contact to make wrong

As a child, hated the feeling of anything sticky on my hands, or touching things if my hands were sticky. Would walk to the sink with my fingers spread way apart so they couldn’t touch each other, and turn on sink with my elbow so I didn’t have to feel my sticky hands touching the faucet. I was made fun of for this. I really like how things have shifted on this matter - C is like this too, and everyone just sort of takes it as obvious that he has some sensory issues!

As a child, was always chewing my hair, and chewed a lot of holes in the neck area of my shirts. I was always berated for both of these things, threatened with short haircuts, etc. Again, a big change - C chews on everything, but at least now chewing jewelry and things exist. I am frustrated about the holes chewed in his shirts, but would never think to BERATE him for that!!

Have always felt weird and "not like other people" to varying degrees

Certain situations have always been hard for me, which I now recognize as sensory overwhelm - the big one that’s stood out is shopping. The lights and smells and visual input of stores (esp clothing stores/department stores) have always made me shut down and turn into kind of a zombie. This always made me feel "not like other girls" when I was a teen - all teen girls love shopping! Except me, I didn’t. Being fat and never being able to find clothes that fit me certainly didn’t help, but now I know it’s more the other stuff. I tried to go to Costco recently as an exposure (like, I thought I just didn’t like going there cause of anxiety around crowds) and instantly felt exhausted and like I was just shuffling around without full awareness of where I was or what my body was doing. Now I know - that’s not something I really need to push myself on!

Have always had a vivid fantasy life, including repeated daydreams that I liked to try to have over and over because it felt good to live in them, but a common one was of being a famous actress interviewed by Barbara Walters (cause as I have mentioned, I loved 20/20 as a kid), but then I’d often accidentally imagine myself saying "when I was a kid, I used to imagine you interviewing me" but you can’t reference a fantasy within the fantasy, so that would make it instantly dissolve and I’d have to start over.

As a child, would narrate my own actions in my head for an unseen audience…I think this also ties in to an apparently common autistic trait of discomfort with being perceived…like, if I narrated what I was doing, it made the fact that other people might see me and notice what I was doing, a little more tolerable? I didn’t know this was a trait til BFF mentioned it yesterday…I was like "omg that’s me, I don’t like being perceived!" And she said, "I know, you hate it!" So that seemed notable, that the degree to which I don’t like being perceived would itself be perceptible (lol).

Related to previous, i often feel like I don’t quite know how to hold my body. If I feel like someone is watching me walk, I suddenly am not sure how to walk, etc.

I have pretty good social awareness and empathy, but if I speak off the cuff I do often say things that are inadvertently rude. Like, I recently was leaving a get together after most of the people I knew well had left, and someone said "you takin off?" And I said "yeah, there’s not really a reason for me to stay now." I instantly knew that was rude and regretted saying it, but that does happen to me a lot. (I guess that’s another overlap with ADHD, like sometimes the impulsivity of ADHD can manifest as "blurting out things you wish you hadn’t")

In social situations, I have difficulty knowing how to end a conversation, or transition to a new topic. I experience this a lot in therapy, where I will often say "okay what’s next" or "what’s supposed to happen now?"

Can be very concrete or literal. Slightly off inflection or unusual ways of wording things can lead to me missing the meaning of what is said, even when in retrospect it’s still pretty obvious.

Hearing difficulties and needing people to repeat things often - my hearing is normal, I now think this is an issue with auditory processing

Another sensory thing - have often dressed weather-inappropriate, never want to wear socks and will wear shorts and sandals even when it’s cold, but also have been known to bundle up in a sweatshirt when it’s hot out. When I had dropped out of college and was living at home with my dad and stepmom, I had a great psychiatrist who ran me through every test he could think of to determine I had bipolar, and this included talking to my family to get additional context on my behaviors. And my dad, who has a phd in rehab psych, helpfully told the Dr about this habit, and then said that some of his own patients had this same quirk (he worked at the time in a prison, as a psychologist for prisoners who were also mentally ill), and that "I think of it as having a broken internal thermostat - and I associate it with very severe mental illness and psychosis." My psychiatrist was like "okay well thanks for the info but I don’t think Meredith wearing sandals in winter is a sign of severe mental illness" (man, I loved that guy!)…of course, my dad saying that really fucked with me, and so I have since made more of an effort to dress normally. Oh and this also reminds me of how one of C’s first notable sensory symptoms was that he’d try to strip off all his clothes as well as his shoes when it was time to leave for daycare.

Mild face blindness - will not recognize people when I see them in a new context. Most often noticed this when I worked at the telefund- I worked with a lot of student callers, and knew them well at work, but when I saw them outside of work I couldn’t recognize them

Oh and as for working in the telefund - everyone who knew me found it odd that someone with so much social anxiety would find so much enjoyment and success in cold-calling people to ask for money. But you see, there’s a script! A very strict script you must follow (including pre-planned personal anecdotes to build rapport!) and I definitely thrive when social interactions are scripted and planned! Also, getting a pledge = hard evidence that that social interaction went well - what could be more satisfying!

Repetition - watching the same few shows over and over. As a result, being unable to unpair certain experiences or phrases from things in a tv show they remind me of - and having a hard time keeping this to myself when it happens, even if the person I’m talking to doesn’t watch the show I’m thinking of! As a result, do better with people who have seen the same shows (oh and this is a sister thing too, we communicate a lot via 30 Rock and Peep Show quotes)

Will find a word or phrase I like and repeat it a lot in my head

Strong and undeniable (sometimes so much it feels painful) hyper fixations. I will find a new hobby and go all in. It’s all I can think about, i MUST pursue it, and I also need to tell everyone about it. Recent examples are growing mushrooms, and biking. This of course is an overlap with ADHD, and it’s also a confounder with my bipolar, like sometimes a new fixation can seem like mania (and/or, it IS mania!)

Recurring feeling like I’m on a boat, ever since having been on a cruise. Has recurred from being in the ocean, but lately seems to recur from lack of sleep, or stress. Google "autism and dizziness," and wouldn’t you know, there’s a link. It’s common for autistic people to also have issues with their vestibular system, which results in dizziness. They also can experience sensory overwhelm as a feeling of dizziness, which I do.

Ooh, this took me a while to write but it was fun and helpful. I’m sure some of these are like "everyone has that sometimes" things I might be overblowing, but also - it’s a spectrum, and, as my friend who also has an autistic son was saying to me recently, "everyone has a sensory profile!" So to some extent, yes, everyone might have these things.

[sburbian-sage]

There's a lot of talk about what aspects go together. It's easy to find discussion on the replayernet about how like, Breath and Blood players can cover each other's weaknesses.

But, I don't understand what to do when it's the opposite? I'm a Guide of Blood, we also have a Rogue of Breath, and it does NOT feel like we're working well together, it feels like we're negating each other.

In fact, it seems like a running theme of the session:

The Prince of Rage, Seer of Light, and our Scout of Time, all seem incapable of using their powers in a way that doesn't freak our Knight of Hope the fuck out. Meanwhile, the Knight's Hope powers keep accidentally lashing out and calming down the Prince too much, and messing with the Seer's visions.

Our Maid of Space I think already had OCD or something and it seems like it's being exacerbated by her title, and she basically CAN'T fight in the presence of our Mage of Sand, she just can't deal with the sand all over the place, can't stand not being able to tell what her ally is doing, can't deal with the battlefield changing in unpredictable ways, etc. She hates the Prince of Rage and Scout of Time as well, their fighting styles are too chaotic for her.

Meanwhile, our Sand player isn't happy, because our Seer of Light and our Sylph of Law both are basically totally incapable of letting dishonesty or rulebreaking slide even a little.

And of course they all blame me for the lack of cohesion, because I'm the Guide of Blood, so I'm apparently supposed to have all the fucking answers. And it's not like I'm not trying, but I feel less like I'm playing team therapist, and more like I'm playing fucking DIPLOMAT to stop these people from tearing each other apart. There's only so much I can do!!!

And the players that do get along are worrying as well. I'm concerned that it's going to result in the group splitting into two opposed "teams". The Prince, Scout, Rogue, and Mage, in "team chaos" versus the Maid, Sylph, Seer, Knight, and me, in "team order", or something asinine like that.

I did have one idea, as I was writing this though... maybe I should stop trying? Let the Rogue of Breath do what they can to drive everyone apart, have everybody do as much as they can independently, only reconvening when absolutely necessary? It might get around the factionalizing issue...

That feels like the message the game is sending me. That these people aren't meant to work together, and the ones that could, shouldn't. But is that just my frustration talking, making me want to give up, when I just need to try harder...? I can't tell...

I'm gonna be real, "our Titles are incompatible and it's bothering us" is a semi-common thing, but the worst I've ever seen was stuff like "I'm a Flow player and the Rhyme player keeps accidentally extinguishing stuff" or "I'm trying to use a scrying ability and I want to eat the Void player's organs because every time I do a headcount it's like solving a middle school logic puzzle". But I don't think that's what's going on here, most of you guys just suck. I don't know what a Prince of Rage/Seer of Light/Scout of Time could do that would make a Knight of Hope freak out unless said Knight is a ninny of some sort, and I'm pretty sure "not being influenced by others unless you will it" is literally the Rage player's job. Law players are often hardasses but "I'm going to scream at you for doing the thing your Aspect requires you do" is a bit beyond the pale, and the Seer of Light has literally no business getting up in the Sand player's grill. And I don't know why "fighting style is too chaotic" is supposed to even mean. Does the Maid of Space just want their coplayers to stand still and swing their weapons when it's their turn, like some sort of JRPG?

I do agree that it's probably for the best that everyone split up and cool their heads, and that the forming of "teams" will be actively deleterious for the session. Sometimes "teams" are a good thing, but it should be a strategic decision, anything else just results in clique behavior and self-defeating rivalries. You're a Guide of Blood, so I think you've gotta get in there and actually play therapist, vis a vis "making people realize that they're being entirely unreasonable and should maybe put aside some of their weird gripes". You are a Guide, so don't handhold them, instead you've gotta help them reach the proper conclusions on their own. Like making them realize "oh wait, I'm in the wrong here". You might actually be able to synergize with the Rogue of Breath here. Let them form "Team Order" and "Team Chaos" because they think it's that the other guys are too unreasonable, but they're all cool and can agree with each other. Then let the Rogue of Breath spread dissent and let them realize that no, actually, the team system doesn't work, these guys are assholes too. Once you've hit the "everyone but me is stupid" phase, you become a bit more amenable to maybe thinking that it's you who has issues and needs to do some reaching out and understanding.

The "Rogue of Breath divides, Guide of Blood conquers" thing should also be taken as an example that while Titles might broadly conflict with another Title, you can almost always find some synergy, even if it takes the form of letting someone "open up" an issue, and stepping aside so someone else can perform the finisher. Two cooks can indeed work together to make an amazing meal, even if they maybe shouldn't be standing in the same kitchen.

[frozen-fountain]

For the book recs asks: 1, 5, 18, 23, 54, 71

A book that is close to your heart

Braiding Sweetgrass by Robin Kimmerer. I read it about three years ago now and find myself thinking of it when I'm feeling at a crossroads and weighing up consequential decisions.

5. Something in fiction that reads like poetry

Not to be a stuck record but just... anything by Angela Carter. Not only for the beauty of her language and the images it creates in your mind but because, as florid and maximalist as her writing can be, it's all constructed to support layers of symbolism and deep wells of meaningful connotation. It's economical purple prose.

18. Your least favorite book ever

The most recent contender is probably Nothing But Blackened Teeth by Cassandra Khaw, which on the surface contains a lot of things I should love but completely failed in execution. Everyone knows that I love me some ornate, orchidaceous prose, so you know it's serious when even I am inwardly curling up into a ball of secondhand embarrassment at the excess on the page. Lady, you cannot drop "chiaroscuro" into your narration more than once without a damned good reason, and there's also some really cringy lampshading of cliched illogical things horror protagonists do that read less like an attempt to deconstruct these things in a meaningful way, and more like "So that just happened" humour to cover up the laziness of running the characters through these motions. Worst of all, there's no real subtext to add substance to the scares. There's some stuff in there about mental illness, about toxic and stagnant friendships, about marriage customs in feudal Japan versus contemporary America and what they do to women, but it failed to add up to anything enlightening or compelling. I loved the location, but that's about it.

A popular choice for this question, I think, but I'd throw in Hanya Yanagihara's A Little Life, too. Not because of the subject matter, or because of the ending, but because it's using these terrible experiences to cover itself in the trappings of a literary great while being, at least in my estimation, incredibly pulpy and borderline exploitative in its execution. I also did not at all see the beautiful, poetic prose that some people did and actually found the language really flat throughout, and found myself especially frustrated at the author's habit of over-explaining the characters' motivations and psychology instead of demonstrating them through action and dialogue - it read like a therapist's notes in many places, which doesn't work for fiction that's so centered on inner experience. But I do also see how and why this book could deeply move and become important to someone, and it frustrates me a bit that a lot of criticism of it seems to focus on anachronisms and lack of realism instead of asking why these devices were employed. But it's very Not For Me and places high on this list because my inability to DNF anything meant it took a long time to slog through.

I feel bad for saying so much more about books I hated than the ones I loved, but in the case of the latter I really am hoping anyone who reads these answers will check them out for themselves. I feel like my "Stay away!" needs a bit more qualification.

23. A book that is currently on your TBR

When I'm finished with Earthsea, I want to reread To the Lighthouse. It's been calling me and I was only twenty the first time I went through it, so I'm interested to see how it hits with all these experiences under my belt and after such dramatic changes in perspective as I've accumulated. For spoopy month I have Bitter Orange by Claire Fuller, Sisters by Daisy Johnson, and The Vegetarian by Han Kang lined up, and I'm really excited for all of those.

54. A book with the best opening line

It's pretty hard to beat "It was the day my grandmother exploded" (The Crow Road by Iain Banks).

71. Your favourite LGBTQ+ fiction

To just about everyone I would rec The Passion of New Eve by Angela Carter, which is gorgeously written gender fuckery; The Luminous Dead by Caitlin Starling, which is really effective sci-fi horror with a complicated sapphic slow burn at its centre; and Giovanni's Room by James Baldwin, because what more could I say? With a much bigger pinch of salt I would add Maria McCann's As Meat Loves Salt to that list, because not everybody wants to be in the head of a violent and possessive rapist for several hundred pages, but it's a descent into the abyss that will stay with me for as long as I live.

[lilacartsmadsion]

Am i a;lowed to ask for that scenario/ where cacao goes to therapy and uhh, yknow the stuff we said in dms

It doesnt go well

Therapist: So let’s start with something simple, How do you feel, like everyday before you, lose control?

Dark Cacao: Angry?…Frustrated…when something negative happens I suppose…usually anger…

Therapist: Any specific reasons for said anger issues?

Dark Cacao: It’s mostly triggered through annoyance, I can control it better, but if I’m annoyed enough I will…lose control…

Therapist: And…the other times…?

Dark Cacao:…

Dark Cacao: I was…angry at someone…someone I was arguing with, either I hated the way they were or just simply felt betrayed…

Dark Cacao: Sometimes it activates when someone I care about is hurt…and I feel this sudden rage fill my soul that I…lose control so easily…

Therapist: Have you told anyone about this?

Dark Cacao: Yes…

Therapist: I see…Does it always happen this way? Have you been trying to seek help for this crisis?

Dark Cacao: Usually…I always regarded it as a cursed defense mechanism…regardless its not going to go away unless I actually handle it.

Therapist: You’re dealing this on your own?

Dark Cacao: Why not? It’s…it’s not like the others can help, they don’t even understand how this works either! And at this point I’m the only one who can protect them!

Therapist: So you push them away? What about Espresso or Pure Vanilla? Aren’t they finding a cure?

Dark Cacao: There is no cure…I’ve accepted that…

Therapist:…

Therapist: Well it doesn’t hurt to at least let them help you.

Dark Cacao: I’ve survived worse on my own, I can handle myself.

Therapist: On your own? All by yourself?

Dark Cacao: I’ve fought two dragons and raised a kingdom from the ground up all by myself, in this snowy wasteland, given myself techniques and skills so that my subjects will thrive despite this harsh climate! So yes, all by myself!

Therapist: That was in your adolescence…it was recorded that you were much younger than the others when you founded your kingdom…

Therapist: But are you certain you were on your own? What about your friends? Didn’t they help you? Perhaps…your family? There must be a reason you constantly pursue things on your own…

Dark Cacao:…

Dark Cacao: I don’t want to talk about this.

Therapist: Your Majesty, please, if I am to make a correct decision on your state, I might as well learn what may be your weaknesses here, did your friends abandon you at some point? Did something happen that made you think that you had to do it all alone?

Dark Cacao: My kingdom was in the height of its prosperity when I met the others! There’s no way they would’ve started this!

Therapist: Then your family…tell me, did they abandon you? Left you to fend for yourself? Did they place a helping hand when you needed it the most?

Dark Cacao: Shut your mouth, I don’t want to talk about this!

Therapist: It couldn’t have been a brother or sister, such actions would’ve made you more of a people pleaser, but you seem so afraid to let people into your heart, my guess is that you’ve been shut out by someone.

Therapist: Not to mention your neglectful behavior towards your son, though understandable that you had a kingdom to run that suffered a lot with trade since your land is an icy wasteland compared to Hollyberry’s thriving kingdom that lives in the middle of an island, you also seem to purposefully distance yourself from him.

Dark Cacao: We are still getting used to each other.

Therapist: No no, I’m talking about, PRIOR to his banishment. Multiple cookies have reported that, though you love the Prince whole heartedly, there’s something in you that is hesitant to show him the proper love and care you want to give him, my guess is that…perhaps, you believe you wouldn’t be a good father for him?

Dark Cacao: ?!

Therapist: But for what reason? The only thing I believe is that you had a problem with your own father…

Dark Cacao:…

Therapist: And it seems I’m spot on…

Dark Cacao: I’m not listening to this.

Therapist: What did he do to you, Dark Cacao? Why is it your so hesitant to let others help you when they so desperately want to?

Dark Cacao: Stop!

Therapist: Why do you choose to hurt yourself just to protect others?!

Dark Cacao: SHUT IT!

Therapist: Your past has done something to you, you refuse to let others help you because the last time you begged for the help of someone else, he shunned you away and left you to fend for yourself!

Dark Cacao: I DON’T WANT TO REMEMBER THIS!

-Dark Cacao transforms into Berserk Cacao and in anger eats the Therapist-

[thefactsofthematter]

for the fic title game!

“i dream of you almost every night (hopefully i won’t wake up this time)

- @we-are-inevitable ✨

@we-are-inevitable i am taking this title very literally but i think you’re gonna like this one 😁

davey jacobs has a crush.

and it’s not that weird. okay? he’s not a creep or anything. he’s just a normal guy… with extreme social anxiety, who pretty much only talks to his parents and his therapist on the day-to-day, far too freaked out to interact with anyone else. he tries not to be too hard on himself about his social ineptness— he’s mentally ill, it’s a disability, and it’s not his fault— but he often finds himself frustrated with the situation.

he’s taking online university classes, he works from home doing simple stuff like data entry and surveys and typing captions/transcripts (so that he can just take jobs from a database and do them himself without needing to send pointless emails or make calls), and he rarely leaves his apartment. he’s been diagnosed with agoraphobia, among several other overlapping anxiety disorders. he truly wants to get better— he checks in with his therapist every single day and he’s genuinely making progress— but it’s hard.

a big step for him is that he’s started going out to get a coffee every morning. he mobile orders it from the shop on his block, so that he doesn’t need to talk to anyone, but he still gets to go pick it up himself. someday, he’ll try to move on to actually talking to the staff or buying a drink that isn’t black coffee, but he’s not quite there yet.

there’s this barista. jack, his handwritten name tag reads. he’s there every morning, looking utterly joyful— he seems to truly enjoy making good coffee and greeting people and pouring fancy latte art to impress everyone waiting for their drinks. he’s pretty, in a way that most people aren’t. he’s a normal-looking person, not necessarily a model or anything, but his confidence shines through so brightly that it makes it hard to look away from him. simply put, davey is awe-struck by this beautiful man.

he doesn’t talk to jack, doesn’t even quite make eye contact with him, but jack starts to recognize him. he never pushes davey to interact, but smiles at him as soon as he walks in and has his coffee ready and greets him with things like there he is! right on time! here’s the usual, dave— have an amazing day! and davey always catches himself thinking about jack on his way home. it doesn’t even make him nervous that jack notices him and talks to him, because he finds he sort of likes it.

and then he has a dream about jack. you see, in his dreams, davey isn’t so anxious— he can talk to people without his throat closing up, and he can go out and do things without the utter terror that tends to grip him when he deviates from his routine. it’s an escape from real life, and he often looks forward to living in that world for some brief relief. he has a dream where he decides to take his laptop to the coffee shop to sit there and work, and then jack comes over to talk to him, and they hit it off and exchange numbers.

the dreams don’t stop. almost every night, jack is there— or rather, this fantasy version of jack that davey’s lonely and anxious brain has invented. davey doesn’t actually know the guy past their daily customer-employee interactions, where jack has a one-sided conversation while davey forces a polite smile. in davey’s fictional world, though, they’re in love <3

there’s 2 ways this au could go from here. option one, davey tells his therapist, who helps him thoroughly unpack the unhealthy obsession and eventually, after that’s dealt with, encourages him to actually introduce himself to jack and see where real life takes him. it’s cute and sweet and it turns out they do make a very good pair.

option two (which i think you’ll like jac bc i know you love a toxic javid au) is that davey gets a little unhinged.

the obsession grows, and he doesn’t tell anyone about it. he finds jack’s social media, figures out where he lives and who he knows, and starts to piece together every bit of information that he can. it’s not like he’s going to use it for anything— that would be creepy. he’s obviously not a stalker or some kind of freak… he just likes jack. he likes knowing about him, likes seeing him every day, and loves seeing him in his dreams, where everything is coming together as realistically as possible. it’s not just at night anymore, no, he daydreams constantly about the life that he’s convinced he’s supposed to be living. if he weren’t such a shut-in, he’d be happy. he’d have jack. that’s how things should be.

i’ll leave it open to interpretation how far this goes— maybe the obsession fades and jack never finds out. maybe davey goes too far. he’s definitely not quite joe from you (which i haven’t watched but have heard enough about to know that this au is starting to have similar vibes) but he’s def got a creepy side to him. idk. i’m never actually going to write this, but i feel like it could make an interesting psychological horror kinda thing to go with this option 👀 feel free to use your imagination!!