#the substances make the symptoms go crazy

[neurotoxicyuri]

My friends really wanted me to upload this angsty voxman drabble so… here! It's 668 words, and the starting/ending is intentionally ambiguous. 👍

Disclaimer: This is VERY very VERY heavily based on a scene from this fanfic. I thought it was interesting, and wanted to expand upon it further, but not enough to make an entire oneshot.

Second Disclaimer: This deals with alcohol misuse, and two mentally ill people sucking butt at relationships. The situation IS toxic, but this isn't meant to be an end all be all thing, they love each other immensely I promise.

Drabble is under the cut :)

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Venomous had already finished two glasses of wine… but he craved more than just that. He craved something of a different flavor profile, specifically and Boxman had such a thing, right in his grubby little talon.

"Are you going to finish that…?" Venomous loomed over the other, very obviously looking down at his half drank glass of brandy.

"You've already had enough," Boxman rolled his eyes.

He hates when he gets like this, and it's always because of stupid Billiam and his stupid parties…

"Aw come on Boxy… don't be that way. I'm as sober as a judge," Venomous winked at the other and made a little clicking noise.

This… behavior truly frustrated Boxman… but, he loves Professor Venomous, and that includes every side of him. Even if that meant he had to deal with his provocative side. In fact, maybe if he turned this into a game it could get him out of this alcohol crazed muck, at least for now.

"You know… your charm isn't as effective as you think, P.V…!" Boxman cackled evilly, before he downed the rest of the drink.

He then gave Venomous a smug grin, "Now you can't have it!"

Venomous grumbled, clearly aggravated. Seems the 'game' didn't work well on him.

Boxman sweat slightly but he could still save things! He just needed to take a different approach… one more methodical.

"Oh don't be like that Professor… I'm HELPING you, the more you drink, the more I'll have to deal with you in the morning," Boxman did his best to force a smile.

Perhaps it was the alcohol or the fact Boxman was preforming unmediated surgery on his ego, but that little comment really got to him,

"Oh, so I'm something you have to deal with now?" Venomous narrowed his eyes at Boxman, his voice however, remained relatively calm, considering the accusatory nature of his words.

The smiling façade quickly faded, and the nervousness of the situation intensified. "I- P.V that's not what I meant! Y-You just get very… fussy when you get migraines, b-but Lord Boxman is MORE than happy to take of you…!"

"So I am?!" Venomous hissed, "You think you can doll up your contempt for me I won't notice? Hm? Is that it?" This time, Venomous raised his voice, and people were now very obviously staring.

Boxman hated to admit it, but Venomous really scared him sometimes, not in the exhilarating way. But in the way that makes him terrified to exist in his presence, terrified that he'll breathe the wrong way, say the wrong things, give the wrong look. Though, to Boxman, the worst part of it all was knowing that these were the times Venomous hurt the most. He knows that he only lashes out because he's afraid; but that doesn't make Boxman any less fearful.

In spite of… everything, Boxman was willing to try and be a source of comfort. He didn't know what's wrong with P.V to get him in these states, but he wanted to be there for him to help push through things.

He placed his fleshy hand on Venomous’ arm, "P-Professor… I don't have contempt for you, I want you to stop drinking because I care about you…! Maybe I went about it the wrong way at first, b-but… I thought you would like it more if I acted joyful…"

Venomous flicked Boxman's hand off of him after he finished speaking, and just as angry before, he remarked.

"I'm sick of your bullshit, Boxman."

Swearing. Something which the two of them avoid… something which Venomous just did. Boxman has a very high tolerance for Professor Venomous’ behavior, but this is so… INEXCUSABLE! He's just TRYING to be mean.

"You… you…" He growls. "WE ARE NOT SPEAKING FOR THE REST OF THE NIGHT!"

"Fine by me," Venomous sneers.

Both headed in the opposite direction of one other, both pretended not to care. But both felt emotionally distraught at the feeling of not having the approval of one another.

[bugs1nmybrain]

Bipolar!Tomura x Reader

Warning: Bipolar Disorder (implied to be type 1), gender-neutral reader, angst, fluff, Shigaraki is mean to the reader, psychotic symptoms, substance use (weed and alcohol), short

note: Shigaraki refers to himself as "being bipolar." I'm aware this is pejorative language, but it made sense for the context of Shigaraki's condition in this story. I also have Bipolar Disorder for reference.

The TV was barely audible over the obnoxiously loud video game music and sound effects coming from Tomura's bedroom. It wasn't like he was ever quiet, but this loud? The neighbors might mistake you two for having a break-in. It definitely didn't help when Tomura would cuss out his screen.

"are you fucking KIDDING ME?! You SCUMBAG CHEAT FUCK!!"

You weren't unused to him talking shit to people on voicechat. It's just he was particularly erratic at the moment. You wanted to check in on him but you weren't sure if that was appropriate. The stabbing decibels would surely blast you away.

Suddenly, all the sounds stop, only leaving the sound of your ears faintly ringing from the absence. It was soon that you smelt..*sniff* .. pot. You hoped he had a fan going and you also wished he'd share. Tomura was already on it though. He opened the door to his room and zipped into the kitchen. With his joint still burning in his hand, he reached up into the cupboard to grab a glass and then a bottle of whiskey. Damn, maybe he should ask for some help?

You watched as he attempted to open the bottle, with his joint in his left hand. His quirk certainly was to be taken accounted for, and he knew it too, because he got too impatient and dusted away the cap, only for the disintegration to fall into the bottle.

"fuck," he said abruptly, but just decided to pour the alcohol in his glass, dust particles included.

"Tomu?" you questioned, watching him try to multitask putting the shit back while smoking his joint.

"Yea, I know, I'll share. Just hang'on."

"Can I help you?"

"Uh.." he spent a moment pondering as if it was a weighted decision. "Here, hold my joint."

You walked over to him and took it from his hands. You contemplated if you really wanted to smoke now, given his state. You knew early on that Tomura had a condition and this wasn't the first time you'd seen him manic. The fact that he wasn't on medication also meant that his episodes could get carried away, and he'd scare you. Not because he was scary...or maybe he was, but you knew it was because he had tripped into a heavy episode.

Tomura turned back to face you when he was done, noticing the joint burn down.

"Why aren't you smoking?" He asks. His tone was normal, though a little jumpy.

"I don't really wanna."

"Why? I don't like smoking by myself. Makes me feel like shit."

"You seem restless."

"Mm, how'd you guess?" He said with a blissfully agitated staring at you.

"Like..you're fast."

"I'm so speedy fast wanna watch me?"

"When's the last time you slept?"

Shigaraki paused and tried to sort through his recent memories but he was unsure. "Uh, maybe..five? Five days ago? I've probably had a nap or two though."

"Maybe we should calm down. Do you wanna watch a movie?"

"Why're you talking to me like a kid?"

"I'm not, I'm worr-"

"Yea I know that, I can tell it's all over your fucking face. Listen, I'm well aware I'm batshit crazy right now but I'm NOT some tragedy, alright?"

"I didn't mean it that way," you stood shaking, trying to fight back your eyes watering.

Tomura sighed seeing you standing scared in front of him. He'd been trying to be fine for weeks. Tomura was never "fine," but when he was paranoid, hyper, determined, and careless beyond proper function, it was a major hindrance. Impacted his goals, though he was great at brainstorming when he was manic.

"You meant it. I'm not even like, mad. I don't know why this happens though, you've seen it before, right?"

"I have. Tomura, can I say something without you getting pissed?"

"What?"

"I think you have Bipolar Disorder."

"Oh really? Turn in your psychiatric report because I'm sure I'm many other things too!"

Tomura huffs and plops down on the living room couch. His adoptive father never gave him access to anything like mental health treatment. AFO told Tomura himself that issues of this matter where only problems that could help his passion for destruction. But Tomura would even admit, being manic beyond belief was scary. He heard voices, saw things that weren't there, sometimes his family, and it was a total living nightmare.

You snuck up behind the couch and began playing with his hair gently. He let out a "hm?", confused considering he just raised his voice at you.

"I just say it because I notice patterns. Like you'll be motivated and nonstop for weeks and then super depressive and bummed out. And it repeats over and over. Usually within the same time frames, too. I'm not trying to insult you, but it might explain things, right?"

You ran your fingers through his scalp. It was definitely a while since his last shower, too. His hair was greasy and dry, but you kept touching him. You could feel him relax into your fingers and whine.

"Sounds like bullshit. I'm not taking any pills."

"I'm not telling you to."

"Well, are you leaving or something? Gonna punish me for being Bipolar?

"No. I want to help you."

"Ain't you some fucking hero."

"I mean it. I can tell you're overwhelmed and just need some sleep or something. I'm not mad Tomura, I never was, I just want you to be ok."

His shoulders began to tense and shake a little. He may have been tearing up but you didn't look and he sat silent.

"Can we order pizza and play Mario Kart, instead? I don't wanna just sit. I'm too awake."

"Yes, baby. I can make a pillow fort!"

"Fuck yessss. Um. I'm also really sorry for yelling at you that wasn't cool."

"I understand Tomu."

You ruffled his hair and kissed his head quick before bolting off to grab your phone but he pulled you down to his lap before you could escape! mwah-ha-ha!

"Stay here for a bit."

"You're trapping me!!" You protested.

"You want me to settle down? Then stay."

Tomura rested his head against yours and held you like you were a stuffed animal. Soon, you could feel his body relax and heard snoring. You turned to see Tomura finally sleeping, but decided to sit still and drift off with for the rest of the night.

[3liza]

it is my professional opinion as an armchair diagnostician and piece of shit that whoever is running the Wendy Williams guardianship is intentionally not treating the Graves' Disease adequately if at all, and is blaming the symptoms on alcoholism as a tactic to keep her insane and incompetent. hyperthyroidism can tip you over into full insanity if you aren't super healthy to begin with and all her other symptoms are directly related to hyperthyroidism that would certainly be worsened by alcoholism but definitely not entirely caused by it. alcohol is a depressant and would be a pretty effective (if dangerous and unhealthy) self medication for the constant, panic-attack-like symptoms of untreated hyperthyroidism also. her team is keeping her sick at some level.

this woman shouldn't even have a thyroid at this point, she was diagnosed years and years ago and they're supposed to either remove it surgically or kill it with radioactive iodine, put the patient into HYPOthyroid state, and then supplement with thyroid hormone until the patient is normal again. she very very very obviously still has active hyperthyroidism. which is insane because it's extremely treatable. but everyone around her is idiot Hollywood people who think vodka is making her eyeballs swell out of her head. someone diagnosed the characteristic swelling and thickening on her feet as lymphedema. it's not! it's the graves disease! every symptom she has, besides being DRUNK, is the graves disease!

I've had hyperparathyroidism and it didn't just make me "irritable and anxious" it made me CRAZY crazy. a woman Wendy's age with a substance problem who's been allowed to go untreated for this long?????? of course she's into full blown dementia at this point. take the thyroid out and medicate her correctly she would probably immediately get back like 40% of the lost function

[hauntedselves]

What does DID look like for someone who has no idea they have it?

lots and lots of confusion and denial! some examples:

they'll obviously have all the symptoms, but instead of knowing that they're attributed to trauma, parts, and dissociation, it's very confusing and many people feel like they're going crazy

amnesia is often glossed over or purposefully ignored ("i just have a bad memory", "i drink too much and it makes me forget", etc)

lots of excuses about part behaviour ("doesn't everyone act like a kid when their favourite childhood show comes on though...?")

attributing things that in hindsight are obviously DID to thinks like the supernatural, imaginary friends, religious experiences, magic, demon or spirit possession, hypnotism, an overactive imagination etc

thinking everyone has these kinds of experiences, not realising that they're not universal

attributing symptoms to other disorders (especially BPD, substance use, bipolar disorder, seizure disorders, traumatic brain injuries, psychosis) or gender dysphoria (or otherkinity/therianthropy even)

remembering only some of the trauma, but thinking that that's all of it

feeling ashamed at their strange, inexplicable behaviour, and being unable to account for it

Here is another post on recognising signs of DID in hindsight.

[aguineapigcouldntdothis]

gonna see if my new therapist can get me started on meds. i know that im eligible for them because I have a million thousand symptoms that they could help with such as apathy, bursts of intense anger, suicidal ideation, isolation, weird sleep, nightmares, flashbacks, etc. im just hoping she won't give me the whole "talk therapy alone will help" bs because I've gotten that in the past and my g-d that was a lie. there are genuine imbalances in my brain and I know that I need something to fix that before I can start using things like talk therapy to heal other issues. therapy doesn't work if my brain doesn't have what it needs to use the skills learnt it in.

I know its a little risky to go on meds bc if a substance makes me feel better then I will probably end up abusing it, but thats a risk im willing to take. I'm hoping I'll just be less inclined to go crazy with the drugs if im generally in a better mental state

[cannibalovers]

yo another will analysis song (cuz i'm crazy over him and my music taste fits his situation the most i think)

Hannibal song of the day: song no.3

a bit about the song (and album) :

"Underneath it all"(released in 1999) is a song by Nine Inch Nails (my fav band ever i swear i can talk about them for hours sorry). It was written by the frontman of the group, Trent Reznor. It's a part of "The Fragile" album, a quite important album for Reznor's career. "The Fragile" (banger) is a concept album, based on a man known as "mr. self destruct" and is a sequel to "The Downward Spiral"(another banger), dealing with personal issues, including depression, angst, and drug abuse - attempting to find order in chaos and find their way out, but ultimately, failing. "Underneath it all" fits the industrial rock and alternative rock genre, including scratchy synthesisers and distorted guitars and harsh beats, combined with soft vocals that build up to be louder and harsher. The instrumental build up on itself, looping and stuttering. The song talks about trying to move on from a hurtful situation but feeling "stained", the pain and trauma and it's effects it had on the man not going away, no matter what extremes he takes.

I could honestly talk about The Fragile for hours just on its own, it's so vulnurable and angry and it's history makes me so fucking sad, considering how much shit Trent was going through(substance abuse, depression, anxiety, death of his grandma who raised him), but this is a hannibal centered post so. I think the song can fit Will pretty well considering his mindset and feelings by the end of season 1 + prison, not much today cuz its so straight forward

------------------------------

chorus + verse since it's quite short and repetitive

"All I do, I can still feel you (x5)

Numb all through, I can still feel you

Hear your call, underneath it all

Kill my brain, yet you still remain

Crucified, after all I've died

After all I've tried, you are still inside

All I do, I can still feel you(x4)"

the narrator feels plagued, stained, he can't get rid of whatever he is trying to get rid of. The impact the subject had on him was so big that the memories of it and erasure just feels impossible, he feels hopeless, numb. When taking in the themes of the album into account, it's most likely about drugs - trying to recover, but the symptoms of withdrawal just being too intense, feeling like the addiction is punishing and mocking him for ever choosing drugs or even thinking that he can escape them - or it can even be about God. Trent explored the theme of religion in many songs like Heresy or Terrible Lie, blaming God for everything that is happening to him and for causing suffering, yet still coming back, never forgetting him, switching between heretic and devotional tendencies back and forth. He's just so rooted into his mind that it's impossible to not come back, no matter how much he tries to change his faith, maybe even feeling judged and punished by God for his choices.

Whichever one it is, Mr. Self destruct feels hopeless, as his oppressor has become so powerful that it has become a part of his mind, starting to haunt him and latch onto them, almost like a leech. He has tried everything, kill his brain (end it all) or even crucifying (most likely referring to trying to repent for his sins or give up his unhealthy lifestyle and mindset, crucifying them) and yet the little voice in his head still remains present, taunting him.

That's what Will seems to feel like, like Hannibal plagued him with a disease of his own, making Will lose his own mind, identity and sanity in the process - he is becoming him and he can't get rid of him or stop it. Will admits in the series that he keeps hearing Lecter in his head, his head voice sounding like his and even started to think like him, not to mention the various visions where Will grows antlers just like wendigo, as well as once and for all, Will got reborn as wendigo, finalising his transformation. Hannibal has officially stained him and made him what he wanted Will to be.

The way the song builds up, the layers becoming noiser and gritter as well as the vocals louder and more desperate just ties the overwhelming feeling together.

------------------------------

Outro

"All I do, I can still feel you(x2)

(You remain, I am stained)"

the song suddenly drops, stuttering instead, becoming weaker and weaker, which to me represents giving up. The narrator gives up and accepts the fact that the oppressor remains and that he will forever be changed and affected by what has been done to him.

In the show, Will didn't exactly want to accept that, but I guess through his method of manipulating Hannibal back, he has just reinforced Hannibal's effects on him, making Will become Hannibal, he has been stained and can't do anything about it - although he seems to accept his faith and even lets him remain in his life (literally came back for him like damn...tiny bit gay if u ask me).

additional notes :

i couldn't recommend to listen to the fragile more, if you enjoy harsh noises, electronic, rock and industrial sounds and ambience sound, lots of layers and build ups and instrumental and absolute emotional damage then i recommend. this album is so dear to me its insane

my playlist

hope u enjoyed <3

[buckysgrace]

Fifty One

Dancing in the Dark Masterlist

CW: Yeast Infections lmaoooo

Kim awoke the next morning to a burning between her legs and a fire in her mouth. 

Her tongue was sore, smeared with a gross white substance that wouldn’t go away no matter how hard she scrubbed at it. It hurt. The more she scrubbed at it, the more it made her wince and tears form in her eyes. There was no comfortable way to rest her tongue in her mouth either. Every position hurt her. 

She couldn’t eat at all and could barely drink anything. It almost hurt to talk. She was too embarrassed to ask about it, fearing that she had done something wrong or obviously missed out on some important piece of information. She just picked at her food throughout the day, feigning that she was a little tired. That was it. Surely, that was it. Just some odd bug she had picked up over Christmas. 

She couldn’t tell if that was worse, or the itching between her legs. She kept crossing her knees, pressing them together in hopes that it would make the odd sensation go away. It was driving her crazy. She felt like it was too gross to scratch, but could almost feel her fingers twitch in anticipation at the thought of doing so.

“You’re quiet today,” Billy observed after lunch, “And a little skittish.” He pointed out the way she’d jolted when he’d approached. She dropped her crocheting hooks, feigning that she had somehow been busy. She hadn’t done much of anything besides stare at the wall and convince herself that she wasn’t itchy. 

“My tongue hurts,” She replied slowly, but kept her tongue inside of her mouth so he couldn’t see. She didn’t want him to think it was gross, “It just hurts to talk.” She shrugged her shoulders, trying to make it seem like it was no big deal. Because it wasn’t.

“Your tongue hurts?” Billy turned towards her curiously, his dark eyebrows furrowing together as he pressed his thumb against her bottom lip. She moved away, covering her palm over her mouth as her tongue continued to throb and ache. 

“Just a little bit.” She replied softly, trying to keep her reaction as relaxed as she could. Billy twisted his fingers through her hair gently, looping her soft curls through his fingers as he raised an eyebrow. 

“Are you getting sick?” He asked, his voice a little softer as concern leaked in through his features. She pressed her fingertips against her chin softly, trying to soothe the ache that had formed in her jaw. 

“Probably a cold or something.” She agreed quickly, feeling like that was the safest option to go with as she crossed her legs again. Billy gasped, making her face flush as she was sure her actions had been caught. 

“Oh,” Billy took a step back from her, “That’s not good.” He covered his hand over his mouth, making her realize that he was just nervous about getting sick. She shook her head, trying to keep from teasing him about his reaction. 

“I’m sure it’s nothing serious.” She dismissed him, still unknown as to what her symptoms might be. She gave him a sheepish smile, watching the way that his eyes locked onto her. She wiggled in her seat once again. 

“Maybe you should talk to mom,” Billy said softly, “I’m sure she has something to help.” He stepped a little closer again, petting her hair for a moment. She rested against his touch for a moment, before she quickly shook her head to dismiss him. 

“I don’t think that’s necessary,” Kim laughed softly, fighting the urge to lean over and kiss his fingertips. She didn’t want to risk spreading anything to him, “I mean think of what we did last night. If I’m sick, you probably already have it.” She smirked softly, watching as his eyes flickered in amusement. 

“Thanks,” Billy replied dryly, “I bet she has something to soothe the pain though.” He replied a second later, nodding his head as he turned on his heel. She felt her eyes widening, really not wanting anyone else to have attention on her. 

“It’s really not-, Billy!” She tried to protest, then quickly stopped as she reached her hand up towards her mouth. She had an urge to grip her tongue, to try and cradle it in means to soothe the pain. 

Rosemary came down the hallway a second later, her blonde curls flopping around as she inspected Kim worriedly. She paused, looking a little confused as she joined Kim on the couch. 

“Billy said you weren’t feeling good?” She questioned Kim with a raised eyebrow, clearly looking like she didn’t understand what the issue was. Kim shifted uncomfortably in her spot, a little embarrassed as she finally found her courage to speak. 

“My mouth hurts,” Kim whined softly, feeling like her tongue was burning, “A lot.” She mumbled underneath her breath, unsure if she should bring up where else she was burning and itching at. She felt her cheeks flush, making her decide that it was best to keep quiet rather than embarrass himself. 

“Let me see,” Rosemary said curiously as she lightly held onto Kim’s chin. Kim paused for a moment before she relaxed her jaw and stuck her tongue out, “Mhm. Looks like thrush.” Rosemary explained, but all it did was leave Kim slightly bewildered.

“What’s that?” Kim asked in confusion, feeling like she may have heard the name but nothing that she clearly recognized. She felt a little silly, feeling like Susan must’ve mentioned it at some point in her life. She was still blank. 

“Sort of like a yeast infection but in your mouth,” Rosemary explained softly, “You know what that is, right?” Her tone became even more gentle, her eyes warm as she peered at Kim’s expression. Kim was fairly certain she had grown flushed again. 

“No.” She admitted as she began to tug on her fingers. She felt like she should know what Rosemary was speaking of, but she was completely clueless at the moment. 

“Well it’s white like this, but it’ll be scratchy in your vagina,” Rosemary explained as she turned to face Kim a little better, “It burns a lot. A nasty business really.” She wrinkled her nose up as she spoke, like she was trying to be playful to make the situation a little more light. 

Kim was quiet for a moment as she thought about Rosemary’s statement, instantly knowing that she had that too. She gently rolled her sore tongue around in her mouth, wondering if there was a discreet way to go to the doctor. She felt awkward, like this was something basic she should’ve already known about her own body. 

“Kim?” Rosemary looked at her softly, “Have you checked to see if you have an infection anywhere else?” She asked kindly, looking like she could tell how embarrassed Kim was. She shrugged her shoulders meekly, figuring that there was no point in denying it. She really didn’t understand how this had happened. 

“Oh, I guess” Kim paused, “I think I might have that. It kinda burns too. Like you said.” She replied sheepishly as she continued to tug on her fingertips. She shifted in her seat, suddenly wishing she could hide herself away. 

“How long has it been like this?” Rosemary questioned as she moved some of Kim’s hair from her face. 

“Maybe two days,” Kim said softly, “I think. I didn’t know what it was. I’m sorry.”

“You don’t have to apologize,” Rosemary said quickly, “We can go up right now and get some cream and stuff for it. Hopefully we can get a doctor’s appointment tomorrow.”

“I have to see a doctor?”

“Maybe for the thrush,” Rosemary nodded her head, “There may be something over the counter though. Come on.” 

“We’re going right now?”

“If you’d like it to stop hurting,” Rosemary nodded her head, “There’s some creams you can get.”

“How do you say that?”

“Miconazole,” Rosemary replied as she held onto it, “It’s a little tablet that you put into your vagina and it dissolves.”

“Oh.”

“It’s not that bad,” Rosemary reassured her, “It’s helped me before.”

“You’ve had a yeast infection?”

“They’re pretty normal,” Rosemary smiled at her, “I got mine after both of my labors. It was dreadful.”

“Oh,” Kim nodded her head softly, “Okay. Thank you for helping me.”

“Of course,” Rosemary smiled, “It could be the change in your diet too.” 

“Alcohol prevents yeast infections?”

“No,” Rosemary laughed, “It can actually be the opposite. Did Susan ever talk to you about this?”

“Not really,” Kim breathed out softly, “I didn’t know what my period was when I started it either. She worked a lot, I think it just slipped her mind.”

“I suppose it wasn’t only her fault,” Rosemary nodded her head, “Do you want anything to snack on before we leave?”

“Can I get candy?”

“Of course,” Rosemary smiled at her, “I think I’m going to get some chips. Maybe a soda. You want one?”

“A Coke would be nice.” 

“What are you doing?” Kim looked at Billy confused, flushing as she quickly shut the door behind her. Billy looked up at her dryly, his eyes filled with irritation as he held a damp rag over his crotch. She held onto her items awkwardly, wondering if this was a bad time. 

“My dick is on fire.” He grumbled, wincing as he shifted the rag around his dick again. She opened her mouth, then pressed her lips together as she quickly came to the realization that she’d spread her infection to him. 

“Oh,” Kim smiled sheepishly as she held the box up towards her face, “Will these help?” She stared at the words on the box, but didn’t bother to read them. She only hoped that it would cover up how hot her face currently felt. 

“Considering I don’t have a vagina,” Billy looked at her with raised eyebrows, “No.” He chuckled softly as he moved to the edge of his bed. She chewed on her bottom lip as she lowered the box, trying to think of the right way to apologize to him. She only hoped he didn’t think she was too gross. 

“I didn’t know I had one,” She responded slowly, “Or what a yeast infection really was.” She mumbled as she approached him. She shifted on her feet before she joined him on the edge of the bed. 

“S’fine,” Billy brushed her off as he draped the rag over himself, “I should’ve had you clean up better after the candy cane.” He sent her a sheepish grin this time before he moved his messy blonde curls from his face. She felt her jaw go slack, finally coming to the conclusion as she gently pushed at his shoulder. 

“So this is your fault?” She teased him, shaking her head in disbelief as a giggle fell free from her lips. She shook her head, sure that she would never let him put anything food wise near her vagina again. 

“Partially,” He grinned at her, “Looks like we’re suffering together.” He grumbled as he motioned down towards himself again. She rubbed at her jaw, sure that he wasn’t facing the full repercussions that she was. 

“It’s in my mouth too.” She replied softly before she held her tongue out. He winced as he looked at her mouth, then wrapped his free arm around her shoulders to give her a soft squeeze. 

“Oops,” He smirked as he kissed the side of her cheek, “Sorry, baby.” He mumbled softly as he brushed his cheek against hers gently. She lingered against his touch, enjoying the soft feel of his stubble against her skin. 

“You owe me.” She told him seriously as she rested her head against his. She enjoyed the feeling of his warmth pressing against her side, even though she felt like there was a fire beginning to grow between her legs again. 

“We better let the infection run its course first,” He grinned as he held onto her waist, “But of course.” He nudged his cheek against hers softly, giving her a reassuring touch. She shook her head, giving him an amused smile as she rested her forehead against his. 

She felt lucky that Sam was still allowing her to take a little bit of a break from school. He’d give her mini lessons, but it wasn’t anything as intense as usual. She liked learning, but she liked being able to spend time with Billy more. 

“Oh, Jesus,” Kim gaped as she glanced down at her legs, “That hurts.” She groaned as she rolled dramatically onto her side, resting on the couch as Billy sat on his knees next to her. He’d just been tickling her before she’d pushed him back, feeling a sharp pang spreading between her legs. 

“The medicine hurts?” He paused as he leaned over her, still looking a little mischievous as if he was trying to figure out if she was messing with him or not. He rubbed his hands across her sides softly, warming her skin once again. 

“It’s like-,” She paused, “Like there’s ants down there.” She thought for a moment, trying to think of the best way to describe it. He raised his eyebrows, his hands stalling from his previous movements. 

“Oh,” Billy glanced up at her in confusion, “Maybe I don’t want to know.” He said as he settled back on the couch, wrinkling his nose in amusement. She laughed as she nudged her foot against his side. 

“I mean,” She stopped again, “I’m trying to think of a way to compare it so you understand.” She said softly as she furrowed her eyebrows together, but was unable to come to a conclusion. 

“I don’t think I want to understand,” He laughed, “No more candy canes.” He promised her with a stern nod of his head. She grinned as she thought about it, glad that she would know better next time. 

“Why couldn’t this have happened with the honey?” She whined as she pushed at his side again, enjoying the laugh that left his lips. He caught her foot, squeezing her ankle softly in one hand as he watched her curiously. 

“I just got lucky I guess,” He grinned towards her, “Sorry, Red. We’ll heal soon enough.” He told her softly, although he didn’t seem to be suffering in the same way that she was. He brushed his fingers down across her foot, making her jolt and yell out as the sensation of being tickled spread through her. 

“This is gross.” She told him between giggles as she tried to wiggle her foot free from his grasp. She wrinkled her nose, doing her best to concentrate on shaking his grip off of her. He only smirked, dragging her closer as he gripped down on her thighs. 

“It happens to a ton of people,” He paused as he looked at her, “You know what a UTI is, right?” He teased her, smirking as he squeezed at her ticklish knees. She laughed hard, sitting up so quickly that she nearly bumped her head against his. She gripped at his thick fingers, trying to pry them off of her knees. 

“You’re very funny.” She said through her fits of laughter, still trying to pull his fingers off of her flesh. He only smiled, but did lightly let go of her knees. She watched him curiously, sure that this was some sort of test. 

“Just wanted to make sure,” He chuckled as he squeezed at her knee, making her giggle hard again, “Does your mouth feel better at least?” He asked, peeping at her lips curiously. She paused as she moved her sore tongue around in her mouth. 

“It hurts more than it does down there,” She admitted, “It’s really sore right now.” She told him seriously, seizing the opportunity to jump away from him at the sound of the phone ringing. She made her great escape, running towards the receiver as she listened to the sound of his footsteps not too far behind her.

“Hello?” She answered the phone, a smile still plastered to her lips as she looked at where Billy was now resting his elbows against the counter. He had a smirk on his face, looking like he was fully prepared to continue torturing her once she was done with the phone. 

“Is Billy Hargrove there?” The serious tone on the other end of the line made her smile stall. She snapped her eyes up towards him, parting her lips as she was unsure of what to say. His demeanor quickly changed, like he could read her expression as he quickly shook his head no. 

“Oh,” Kim paused as she held the phone to her ear, “No. You just missed him. Can I take a message?” She questioned as she furrowed her eyebrows together, unsure of what she was supposed to say. She felt awkward as she straightened her shoulders up. 

“Neil Hargrove wanted to speak to him,” The officer replied, making Kim quickly glance back towards Billy, “We have some information regarding him if you could tell Billy to give us a call back.” She tugged at her hair, watching the adamant look on Billy’s features. 

“Oh,” Kim said softly, “Is he okay?” She asked softly, feeling like she could at least give Billy some sort of answer. He walked closer and for a moment she thought he was curious as to what the answer was until he gripped the bottom of the phone, signaling for her to hang it up. 

“I can’t disclose that.” The officer spoke up briefly, sounding fairly stern on the matter. Billy tugged at the end of the phone, nearly slipping it from her grip as she did her best to quickly answer. 

“Right,” She nodded her head, “Um, I’ll have Billy give a call back then. Thank you.” She spoke a little louder, trying to make sure the officer heard her before Billy was quick to hang the phone up. 

They were quiet for just a moment. She watched as Billy stared at the phone, his hand still wrapped around it. She wondered if he regretted not answering, if he truly did want to know how Neil was doing.

“Hey,” She paused as she looked towards him, unsure of how to continue, “They wouldn’t tell me if he was okay or not.” She added softly, feeling bad as she took one of his hands in her own. She squeezed him softly, feeling worried that he might be feeling as if he’s to blame for everything. 

“I don’t want to talk to him,” Billy said simply, “They can stop calling.” He shrugged his shoulders, sounding like the conversation was over as he walked away. She quickly took large strides to keep up with him, following him outside. She shivered at the colder breeze, wishing she would’ve dressed a little warmer. 

“Are you sure you don’t want to know what happened?” She asked him curiously, trying to think of the best way to phrase her question. She could tell that this was bothering him more than he let on. 

“Do you?” He asked as he pulled a cigarette up to his lips, cocking his eyebrows before he quickly lit it. She watched as he took a deep inhale, noticing the way his hand was slightly trembling. 

“I wouldn’t want him to show up in a few years mad about it,” Kim admitted as she twisted her fingers together, “But it’s your decision. I’ll support you.” She told him seriously, feeling another chill rush through her as she took a step towards him. 

“I appreciate that,” He grinned as he pulled her against his side, “I don’t want to talk about him.” He mumbled as he took a deep exhale, turning his face so he could keep from blowing the smoke in her face.

She nodded her head in understanding as she rested against him, holding onto him softly as she drew soft shapes against his back. She couldn’t make him speak to Neil and she certainly didn’t think that he had to do it, she just wanted to make sure that he wasn’t trying to punish himself. She didn’t want him to feel as if this was all somehow his fault. It wasn’t. She didn’t speak it outloud, but she really did believe that Neil’s past was catching up with him. 

He nudged his face against hers gently as he held his cigarette down to his side. He nuzzled his nose against hers before he dipped down, trying to press his mouth against her own, Woah,” She covered his mouth with his hand to stall his kiss, “I don’t want to give you this yucky mouth stuff.” 

“I already have half of it.” He chuckled as he looked at her amused, his blue eyes calm despite the way his features were still so tightly wrinkled up. She rolled her eyes softly as she leaned against him, trying to hide herself away from the cold. 

“But the tongue part is the worst,” She admitted, knowing how sore her mouth felt right now, “You don’t want that.” She told him truthfully as he tugged her a little closer. She watched the way his lips parted as he brought the cigarette back into his mouth. He lingered there for just a moment before he took a long drag.

“Thank you,” He mumbled softly as he glanced towards her, “For being here for me. For understanding. I really appreciate it.” His eyes locked onto hers and she wondered if he could read the surprise on her features. She felt like he didn’t have to thank her for anything. It was the least she could do.

“Of course,” She replied softly as she clasped their free hands together, “I’ll always be here for you.” She reassured him, giving his fingers another soft squeeze as she let the sun simmer lightly against their skin. 

////////////////////

“After I get the medicine,” Kim started slowly, “Can I get some more of the cream too?” She asked Rosemary the next day as they waited in the waiting room. She was nervous to meet this new doctor. She didn’t fear that he would necessarily be mean, but she just felt her stomach twist and turn in the same way it always did when she grew nervous. 

“Honey, I don’t think you need to use that much.” Rosemary looked at her confused, looking like she was a second away from explaining just how much Kim should be using.

“I’m not,” Kim squeaked out softly, “Um. Yeah I’m not.” She fumbled with her fingers, feeling embarrassed as she looked down at her lap. She waited for Rosemary to get mad, for her to get cold with Kim again.

“Oh,” Rosemary nodded her head in understanding, “That’s why I wanted you two to have separate rooms, but what do I know?” She teased, looking amused as she glanced towards Kim’s horrified features. 

“Oh,” Kim felt her face burn, her lips parting as she was unsure of what to say for a moment. She felt a bubble forming in her chest, like she may burst into nervous laughter, “I didn’t know it would happen, or - I’m sorry.” She said at last as she felt her neck beginning to prick in embarrassment. Rosemary laughed again as she gave Kim’s knee a soft squeeze.

“Don’t apologize to me,” She grinned before she leaned back in her seat, “I’m not the one that’s suffering. I don’t think Billy is either.” She shook her head, still looking amused as Kim did her best to melt deeper into her seat. 

She kicked her feet out, trying to do her best to remain comfortable as she waited for her turn to be called back into the office. Rosemary kept a small conversation, talking about little updates on the bakery when Kim felt her body stiffen at who came out of the doors. 

“Hey,” Dani narrowed her eyes as she approached, “What are you doing here?” She asked as she held her head high, bearing a smug look on her features. Kim glanced towards Rosemary before she tucked her hair behind her ears, then shrugged her shoulders as she did her best to remain stoic. 

“Me?” Kim gulped, “Nothing. Just hanging around. I really like the, uh, the atmosphere here.” She furrowed her eyebrows together at her words, mentally cursing herself at the way she slipped up. She closed her eyes for just a moment, wishing she could blame the thrush for the awkward way her tongue moved. 

“At the doctor’s office?” Dani raised her eyebrows in amusement, looking like she was seconds away from spitting out a laugh. Kim twisted her fingers together, suddenly more aware of how nervous she felt around her. 

“Very calming,” Kim nodded her head, wishing she could hide behind Rosemary’s smaller frame, “What are you doing here?” She asked, even though it was fairly obvious why she was here. Kim kept waiting for her to call out the obvious situation. 

“Is this one of your friends?” Rosemary asked softly, a soft smile lingering on her lips as she gave Kim a soft squeeze. She did her best to keep from shifting closer to her, reminding herself that she could deal with this on her own. 

“Um,” Kim paused, “I don’t-,” She began to speak, trying to beat around the bush so she didn’t embarrass herself any further. She was sure that Dani no longer thought of her as a friend. Not after she found out about Billy, which Kim didn’t think was her fault. She supposed that the bitter feelings could be from her smashing a glass bottle in Audrey’s face, but she had a hunch that it wasn’t. 

“I don’t think what Kim did was very friendly,” Dani smiled as she reached forward to squeeze at her bicep, “But maybe you’ll figure out that drinking issue.” She winked towards Kim, looking quite happy with the way she began to sink deeper into her chair.

“There is no problem,” Rosemary interjected quickly, “But I suggest you figure out who you should and shouldn’t run your mouth to. You wouldn’t want to say something to the wrong person.” She stated calmly, her eyes narrowed as she held eye contact with Dani. She slowly stood straighter, rolling her shoulders before she turned and left. 

“Thanks,” Kim squeaked underneath her breath, wishing she would’ve found the courage to say something in response, “She’s mad because she used to date Billy.” She replied a second later, glancing over towards Rosemary was watching intensely as the door shut behind Dani. 

“Goodness,” Rosemary mumbled as she shook her head, “He leaves quite the impression on them, doesn’t he?” She pushed her curly hair from her face, closing her eyes slowly like she wasn’t sure what to do with that information. 

“You have no idea,” Kim giggled, “He’s a heartthrob.” She told Rosemary truthfully, but then realized she may have been speaking in a more dreamy way. She rubbed at her arms, glad that she was at least able to say that Billy was hers. Nobody else could say that. 

It only took about ten more minutes for Kim to finally get called back. She ensured Rosemary that she was fine, that she could at least do this on her own. She stared at the scale when she stepped onto it, feeling a little bit relieved that she really hadn’t gained that much weight. 

“So,” Her doctor drew out slowly as he examined her mouth, “You certainly have thrush. The nurse said you were treating yourself for a yeast infection too.” He stated, looking like he’d rather be anywhere else than here. He was a lot older than her previous doctor. 

“Um, yeah,” Kim mumbled as she tugged on her hair, “That’s correct.” She nodded her head, fearing that they all knew how the infection had so easily spread through her. She was still a little humiliated over all of it.

“How did that come about?” He raised an eyebrow, speaking dryly as he held his pen towards his paper. She knew she was supposed to tell the truth, but she just didn’t feel comfortable enough to do that with him. 

“Unsure,” She squeaked out as her face slowly burst into flames, “I don’t know-, I really like the decorations here.” She spit out instead, glancing around at the flowery wallpaper. She tried to edge the conversation into anything else, wanting to soothe at least a little part of her soul. 

“Uh huh,” He nodded as he twisted the pen back and forth between his fingertips, “Is the over the counter medicine working?” He questioned her, making her nod her head quickly. She was having a hard time looking him in the eye for some odd reason. 

“I believe so,” She mumbled as she lightly kicked her feet back and forth, “It feels better I mean.” She replied quickly, trying to make sure her statement made sense. She wasn’t sure if he wanted her to go into full details, to explain just how the medicine had slowly begun to make her feel better. 

“If you’ll just lay back.” He responded as he stood up, turning so he could wash his hands. She watched curiously as he dried them with some of the paper towels before he put on a pair of gloves. 

“What for?” She raised her eyebrows, fearing that she’d have to be exposed to him. She didn’t feel comfortable enough to do so. Not right now anyways. 

“Just a routine pelvic exam,” He explained as he walked towards her again, like he was expecting her to already be laid down, “I’ll do a few quick swabs to test what the fungus is.” Kim stayed frozen to the side of the chair, her fingertips digging into her thighs as she suddenly thought about Logan. She didn’t trust this doctor, not yet. 

“I’d rather not.” She finally spoke for herself, her features knitting up together as she worried about offending him. She didn’t necessarily want to explain her situation, but she could if he needed her to. 

“You don’t want me to do the tests?” He paused in front of her, already sitting down on his chair as he began to tear his gloves off. 

“I think-,” She gulped harshly, suddenly wishing she’d brought Rosemary in with her, “Can anyone else um do it?” She played with her fingertips, hoping that her words weren’t mean. She really didn’t want to come across as rude. 

“Not today,” He replied as he swiveled in his chair, “Are you refusing to get it done?” He asked but he was already writing down on his paper. She frowned as she thought about his words, not liking how he described it. She didn’t think she was refusing anything, she just didn’t want anyone poking around down there. 

“Can I come back and do it?” She asked softly, “Not today.” She said a second later, thinking that they could come to some sort of deal. She hoped that there was a female doctor here. She’d feel more comfortable with one. 

“Not today,” He agreed with a nod of his head as he wrote something down, “Come back if the symptoms get worse.” He said at last, standing up and washing his hands again. She furrowed her eyebrows together, still wondering if she had done something wrong. 

“Thank you,” She whispered softly, “Is that all?” She asked softly as she slid off of the seat, feeling glad that she had decided to wear a pair of jeans today. She rubbed her palms across the top of the material, sighing softly. 

“The medication for your thrush should be ready in about thirty minutes,” He responded as he picked up his clipboard, “The exit is out this way.” He jerked towards that direction briefly before he was off, paying her no more attention. 

She was slightly stalled in his response, but figured that it was better than him getting upset with her. She shrugged her shoulders softly as she went down the narrow and tricky hallways, twisting and turning until she finally found the exit. 

“How was that?” Rosemary was on her feet quickly as she joined her, linking their arms together as she guided her out of the room. Kim thought about it for a moment, beginning to wonder if she had grown defensive for nothing. 

“He said the medicine should be ready soon,” She replied gently, “I couldn’t do the pelvic exam.” She breathed out softly, wondering if it was something she should be ashamed over. Rosemary looked up towards her, warmth seeping into the blue of her eyes. 

“Those are scary,” Rosemary nodded as she squeezed her arm softly, “Much more comfortable if you have a female doctor.” She said softly, looking thoughtful like she was going to do her best to figure out how to find her a new doctor. 

“I had one in Hawkins.” She mused softly as she walked with Rosemary towards the car. She was sure that had been the only female doctor there, however. 

“Oh yeah?” Rosemary smiled at her, looking genuinely interested as they waited for a car to come to a stop before they began to walk across the street. It was warmer than it was the day before. Kim wondered if it stayed this nice if they’d be able to swim in the ocean still. 

“Steve’s mom,” Kim giggled softly as she thought about the distant memory, “She saw me naked before. She was my gynecologist.” She explained as she squinted her eyes, doing her best to keep the sun from blinding her.

“I see,” Rosemary laughed, “Certainly sounds like it would be an awkward dinner.” She teased softly, speaking exactly what Kim was thinking. She wondered suddenly if Rosemary would’ve liked having daughters, or if she preferred just having her two boys. She thought that Rosemary would be good at having a big family. 

“I guess so,” Kim agreed as they walked back to Rosemary’s vehicle, “Do you miss your sister?” She asked softly, wondering how she was able to go so long without seeing her. She never wanted that to be her future for her and Max. 

“Everyday,” Rosemary smiled softly as she buckled herself in, “She’s just not what she used to be.” She said softly, looking deep in thought for a moment. Kim paused as she chewed on her bottom lip, trying to think of the best way to approach the subject. 

“Maybe she’s changed since then.” Kim suggested softly, still believing that everyone had a chance to get better once again. She hoped it would be true for Rosemary’s sake. Maybe one day they could bond once again. 

“Maybe,” Rosemary agreed, “I think about that a lot. I just don’t think I’m ready yet.” She nodded her head thoughtfully, although she looked like she regretted her words. Kim knew it must be hard to say, but she understood it. 

“I hope you find a time where you are,” Kim said softly, “I miss Max a lot.” She mused softly, hoping that Max might still change her mind. From the way Max spoke, it sounded like it was the right decision for her. She seemed a lot happier, despite people teasing her about her siblings dating. 

“So does your dad,” Rosemary nodded, “I wish things were different.” She smiled as she leaned over to give Kim a soft hug. She held onto her softly, suddenly thinking about how badly she missed Susan despite everything that had happened. She needed to call her soon. 

“I do too,” Kim nodded along softly, “Things could still change.” She told her they pulled away, hoping that she could reassure Rosemary. She wondered if Rosemary only thought of her as immature, like she couldn’t fully grasp the situation. 

“I hope so.” Rosemary sighed softly, but didn’t look upset by the smile that formed on her lips. Kim truly hoped that her and Billy got the relationship they deserved. She felt bad for their lost time, as she now knew that Rosemary could’ve given him the life he deserved. 

////////////////////////////////

“Are you okay?” Kim asked as she looked at the way Billy had himself positioned on the bed. She held onto Pearl as she walked inside of his room, noticing how the curtains were pulled shut. She felt slightly anxious, worried that he might be having another episode. 

“No,” He grumbled as he spared her a glance, “My fucking dick burns.” He groaned, pulling back the sheets to show that he had wrapped himself in more washcloths. If she didn’t feel so bad, she thought that it might be sort of funny. 

“I got more cream,” She offered with a soft smile, “I’m really sorry.” She told him as she joined him on the side of the bed. Pearl purred before she hopped out of Kim’s arms, then made her way towards Billy’s head. She curled up on his pillow, wiggling her body as close to his head as she could manage. 

“Why are you apologizing?” He looked at her in confusion, “It’s just a little infection.” He brushed it off like it was nothing, but she was still a little embarrassed over the whole ordeal. She chewed on her bottom lip before she thought up an answer. 

“It’s gross.” She said at last, moving her fingers to brush over his thin sheets. He looked at her curiously for a moment before he spoke again. 

“You’re a dirty girl,” Billy shrugged his shoulders, “I already knew that.” He raised his eyebrows in amusement as he laughed softly, looking amused by her reaction. 

“You’re the worst.” She groaned as she shoved at his shoulder, smiling at the way Pearl dipped further against him. He sighed for a moment, looking irritated as she took a moment to get comfortable on his chest. Kim reached forward and played with her fluffy tail for a moment. 

“Oh, am I?” He grinned as he rubbed at Pearl’s ears, “Does your tongue feel better yet?” He asked curiously, shifting a little bit like he was going to sit up. She moved towards him, not wanting him to get out of his comfortable position. 

“Not yet,” She admitted, “My doctor wanted to do a pelvic exam but it didn’t feel right.” She admitted softly, hoping that he might reassure her nerves. She still felt bad, like she was doing something wrong. She wondered if it was that important to get. Perhaps something was wrong. 

“That makes sense,” He nodded his head softly in agreement, “You have the right to refuse.” He told her gently as he took a hold of her hand. She felt her lips twitch as he began to brush his thumb across her hand. 

“Refuse makes it sound bad,” She replied gently, “Like, I don’t know. It makes me feel guilty.” She told him truthfully, wondering if her words sounded silly or not. She didn’t quite understand why she really felt that way herself. 

“Don’t feel guilty,” He told her sternly as he leaned over and kissed her knuckles, “It obviously wasn’t that important.” He brushed off her worries, making her nod her head as she felt a little better with his statement. She trusted him. 

“Billy?” She questioned him softly, watching the way he continued to pepper soft kisses against her skin. She smiled at the sensation, enamored with him completely. 

“Hm?” He questioned as he looked up at her, his blue eyes shining brightly like her favorite constellations. She wondered if she’d ever memorize the different shades of blue. 

“I hate being this itchy,” She started to tell him, giggling at the way he dramatically sighed, “It’s the worst feeling.” She wrinkled her nose up, liking the lighthearted conversation that filled the room. 

“It does suck pretty bad,” He agreed, “But it’ll go away.” He reassured her, giving her hand a reassuring squeeze before the door behind them was pressed open. Kim jumped, startled at the sudden intrusion. 

“Hey,” Sam peeped his head in as he spoke, “You owe me a math lesson.” He pointed towards her, giving her a playful look as he waited for her to move. 

“I’m coming,” Kim squeaked out as she quickly loosened herself from Billy’s girl, “Right now.” She added a second later, noticing how Sam was still lingering in the door. Billy groaned as he pushed his hair from his face. 

“Get a move on then,” He teased as he took a step back, “No need to spread yeast anywhere else.” He wiggled his eyebrows between the both of them, looking quite proud of himself as he slowly backed up into the hallway. 

“Dad!” She protested, her face burning as she quickly placed her palms over her face in horror. She shook her head, in total dismay over him finding out. 

“Sorry, sorry,” Sam held his hands up innocently as he laughed, “I also didn’t need to know that, but it was shared against my will.” He replied as he walked away from them, but kept the door open. Kim groaned, really wishing they had just found their own apartment.

“I see where you get the no knocking thing from,” Billy observed as he gave her a dry laugh, “He’s lucky I covered back up.” He mumbled a second later, making Kim laugh as she thought about how Sam might react. She squeezed at Billy’s hand, thinking about how glad she’d be when she could kiss him again. 

[beardedmrbean]

Chrissy Reifschneider had just left rehab to treat her heroin addiction in 2017 when she started taking tianeptine, popularly dubbed “gas station heroin." The 41-year-old from Alabama was struggling with low energy, so a family member who worked at a gas station recommended she try the pills. 

Within days, Reifschneider was hooked, and three dark years cruised by. Now four years clean, Reifschneider reflects on the deception that contributed to her tianeptine addiction and the overwhelming shame that followed. It's a trend that addiction medicine experts say shines a sobering light on the ongoing mental health crisis that's driving people to "easy" solutions amid widespread healthcare accessibility issues in the U.S.

“I thought well, I'm not sticking a needle in my arm, so I literally convinced myself that I wasn’t a drug addict until I realized I didn't recognize who I was anymore,” Reifschneider said. “It's crazy to think that these gas station pills just controlled me. I was ashamed because I'd rather people know I was shooting up heroin than actually spending all this time and money on over-the-counter (drugs).”

Tianeptine is prescribed as an antidepressant in some European, Asian and Latin American countries, but it’s not approved for any medical use in the U.S. Still, companies are marketing and selling tianeptine products as dietary supplements typically in pill and powder form, claiming it can improve brain function and treat depression, anxiety, pain and even opioid use disorder. 

Tianeptine has been banned in Alabama, Florida, Georgia, Indiana, Kentucky, Michigan, Mississippi, Ohio and Tennessee.

Reifschneider used to take five pills every four hours, which she said gave her enough of a “warm, fuzzy buzz” without making her feel clammy or nauseous, similar to the effects of doing too much heroin, she said. The brand she purchased recommends two capsules daily “or as needed,” and advises against exceeding three capsules in a 24-hour period. 

She started to lose her hair and lots of weight; had auditory hallucinations; developed paranoia surrounding electronics, at times using 10 cellphones at once; and began to convince herself that she was “better off dead.” Reifschneider would even chat with gas station employees about how dangerous the pills were: “I was silently crying out for help.” 

After several unsuccessful stays in rehab, Reifschneider quit “cold turkey” and entered a withdrawal state for the next six months, which she said felt similar to but lasted longer than her withdrawal from heroin and fentanyl. Today, she continues to “feel like a 15-year-old in my brain,” alluding to her debilitating memory problems. “It’s one of my more shameful things,” she said.

Poison control cases involving tianeptine have increased nationwide, from 11 total cases between 2000 and 2013 to 151 cases in 2020, the FDA says. Many poison control calls often involve severe withdrawal symptoms, such as agitation, vomiting and diarrhea, because people typically consume higher doses than those prescribed in other countries, according to a 2018 CDC report.

Dr. Holly Geyer, an internal medicine physician specializing in addiction medicine with the Mayo Clinic, said fear of withdrawal and the depression that follows can contribute to addiction to a variety of substances. 

“These often aren't people who are chasing a high. They're just trying to feel normal, and if there's a drug out there that helps them curb that appetite, they're probably going to take it until it as a solution becomes the problem,” Geyer said. “These people are trapped biologically, mentally and spiritually. It's a horrible situation to be in, and I can tell you tianeptine does not let them out of it.” 

Shame and stigma prevail among addiction recovery circles 

Since Reifschneider joined social media to share her tianeptine experience, neighbors and friends have confided in her with their own struggles with the supplement. “It was a very dark secret we all kept in our recovery circle because it was so shameful,” she said. “We all felt better about ourselves because we weren’t doing the worst of the worst.”

Aaron Weiner, an addiction psychologist, says that mentality is “completely reasonable” considering the stigma and “traditionalism” that still weighs on drug use in general. “There’s a very intense mental health burden in this country right now,” he said.

Tianeptine is marketed as a supplement, but it’s really an opioid receptor agonist. That means it binds to the same receptors in the brain that heroin, fentanyl and other opioids do, causing similar euphoric and addictive effects by hijacking the body’s dopamine system. So when people use tianeptine amid their recovery journey to cope with withdrawal or other lingering effects, judgment frequently follows.

“In a lot of recovery circles, the goal is complete abstinence from all intoxicating substances,” Weiner said. “In this scenario, some people may assume they’re substituting one drug for another, and say they’re not really sober.”

Similar judgment occurs among those taking FDA-approved medications for opioid use disorder (MOUD), including methadone, buprenorphine and naltrexone — some of which are opioids themselves. Mounting evidence shows that they reduce opioid cravings and withdrawal symptoms, and block their euphoric effects, Weiner said, but don’t make people “high” or cause withdrawal when dosed properly. 

Although MOUD use has grown by more than 100% over the last decade, nearly 90% of people living with opioid use disorder are not receiving these medications, according to a 2022 study published in the International Journal of Drug Policy. Experts say stigma is partly to blame. 

“One of the greatest problems we have in this country is that of stigma; we label people, then throw them out with their diagnoses,” Geyer said. “So when many of them turn to MOUD, they experience equal amounts of stigma and are led to think that no one could yell at them or be offended if they use supplements like tianeptine that they think are safer.” 

"It kills me to know this is still out there"

Reifschneider said she visited a doctor who specializes in addiction medicine two times for help to detox from tianeptine, but neither attempt was successful.

“The doctor had no idea what these pills were, but he wanted to help me because he could see my desperation,” Reifschneider said. “I was terrified to come off of them alone, so I didn’t know what to do.” 

She ultimately detoxed herself, but this lack of awareness and access to proper treatment, Geyer said, is what deters people away from evidence-based treatment and attracts them to the illicit market.

Data show that nearly 50% of counties in the U.S., don’t have MOUD medication providers and 32% don’t have any specialty substance abuse treatment programs at all. 

“There's not a whole lot of attention paid to tianeptine because it’s one of many drugs that you could find at gas stations these days that are not technically outlawed but certainly not beneficial,” Geyer said. “The big name drugs out there like fentanyl is where the money has historically been in this industry, so that's where most treatment approaches have focused.”

After years of rehab, Reifschneider said she wants to lay low and just live a normal life, but knowing that tianeptine is still being sold on gas station shelves weighs on her.

“I'm honestly grateful that there's been more awareness, but it kills me to know this is still out there,” she said.

[violentviolette]

i think i have aspd or traits . but i dont wanna go to a psych and be like " btw here are my symptoms ive never told u about before , have fun ! ( insert the entire ASPD criteria here ) . sorry " because that makes me look bad & i appear the opposite ( passive , fearful , not aggressive ) , & dont want to appear as a threat and i most definitely dont want them to think im manipulating them when im not ( like for example when im just telling them my symptoms regarding other conditions ) . and i dont want to admit to committing crimes incase they report me or i have to go through a security clearance for job reasons and they go thru my stuff . anyways as far as anyones concerned i seem nice but weird but not the type of person to have those kinds of symptoms , and i want it to keep my Good Girl(tm) image . but also . i dont want to start having legal issues , become dependent on substances , pursue any illegal occupation , etc since it would suck to get caught and im only 21 so i keep trying my best to avoid it everytime i almost continue with it , but i need help bad lol . any idea of what i should or can do ? anything helps

okay real talk but literally do exactly the opposite of everything ur doing and also get out of ur own head and stop overanalyzing every thought u have to find justifications for not doing the very simple basic first step towards what u know is the right thing to do but just dont want to because being vulnerable feels yucky and ur scared

i say this with genuine compassion and no judgement because i *absolutely* did and still sometimes do the same thing but unfortunately the only way to get urself out of that cycle is to get over urself and touch grass (encouragingly) so that u just Do The Thing u know u need to do

being open and honest with a therapist about ur thoughts and feelings is the only way to get any actual positive growth or help out of it. u cant fix what u dont talk about and keeping it all to urself will only drive u more and more insane. staying cooped up inside ur own mind without telling other ppl what ur thinking out loud creates a feedback loop of crazy. u gotta hear urself talk to another person sometimes to actually really *hear* urself, u know? ur brain is where the crazy is and u cant stay there alone and expect it to work out and get better. u have to talk it out and be confronted and challenged with other viewpoints to realize where urs are disordered if u look for reasons not to do something u will absolutely find them, and while i could offer rebuttels to a lot of ur concerns, things like how ur medical records and psych details are not that detailed. u doing illegal behavior like stealing or doing drugs is not something that gets listed on those and falls under patient confidentiality. the only thing that gets documented is the official diagnoses name which most therapists are going to be very reluctant to hardline diagnose someone with aspd (and even then it only gets logged with that practice and submitted to ur insurance only if ur seeking care like meds or hospital stays or get incarcerated. otherwise, if u dont tell someone "i saw dr.x at yclinic from 2019-2022, then they have no way of knowing or finding out what that dr wrote on their internal records/notes. there is no centralized database of "medical history" outside of ur insurance company and specific practices internal networks) individual symptoms like "illegal activity" do not get listed and unless ur planning on enrolling in the military or working for the feds no job is looking more deeply than that into ur history unless u personally volunteer it. what comes up when specific companies do background checks with a medical history is ur insurance records. ur insurance only knows what gets submitted to them specifically, if ur therapist doesnt file paperwork with ur insurance to list aspd as a diagnosis they are looking for ur insurance to pay them to treat u for specifically (instead of more generalized things like "depression" "anxiety" or just "mental health care" ect, which they have to get ur permission to do) then there's no paper trail of what u two talk about in that office or how ur "good girl" image is legitimately worthless garbage and will grant u absolutely nothing in life and clinging to it in the false hope that other ppls perceptions of u will change who u actually are and make u happy is only gonna lead u to looking at ur shitty unhappy life in 5 years and being filled with nothing but regret and anger and wanting to kill urself or that while u cant know or control how ur therapist sees u or reacts to the things u share with them, u can control who they are. if u fuck up with this therapist or it takes a turn u dont like or they start treating u badly, u can very much just get another one. u can request a different person at the same clinic for any reaosn or u could switch clinics entirely. most insurance in the us is taken by more than 1 provider in an area and there are almost always multiple practices that take the local insurance. and even then, if u wanna drive 45mins to see a therapist a town over cause u burned a bridge with this one u can do that. ur not beholden to a single person, u can get dozens and dozens of opinions. ive had over 15 different therapists in my life. if u fuck up with one u can always get another

but all those rebuttals dont really matter because if u want to, i have no doubt u could find counter points to all those points. i know i could if i tried. so really it just comes down to the simple question of are u going to keep standing in ur own way or are u going to cut the bullshit and take it seriously and do the hard thing because u know its what u need to do? ur young still, uve got so much time, dont waste more of it waiting for the perfect solution or situation because it will never exist. do it now, do it messy, do it scared, fuck it up and get it wrong a bunch, and then try again and again until it works

[therockandrolllibrarytroll]

Trauma and Stands in JJBA

So this has been swirling around my head for a bit, and because I just lost my job today I figured it would be good to take my mind off of it by indulging in a bit of analytical escapism instead. 

It’s stated several times throughout Jojo that Stands are a manifestation of a person’s most innate self, their “soul” if you will. Some Stands can be a manifestation of positive aspects of a person’s soul, such as Tusk Act IV being a representation of Johnny Joestar’s resilience or Crazy Diamond being a representation of Josuke’s protective nature. It can be a great character analysis to just break down the aspects of a stand and how it relates to each character of Jojo. But that’s gonna be a super long essay that I don’t have the energy to write. 

What I want to talk about is how Stands can be a representation of things like trauma and negative coping mechanisms associated with it. Specifically, part 5 characters that are good examples of this. There could obviously be others from different parts, but these are the ones that I’ve been thinking about. 

The most obvious one would be Fugo. His stand has a lot of meaning to it. I think a lot of people tend to look at his character at only a surface level. Even if you want to discount the anime’s expansion on his backstory, it’s super clear that this kid has experienced serious trauma. Children don’t just become angry without reason. Fugo’s anger is a direct result of trauma, and we can see that with Purple Haze. It’s a Stand built to push people away, to lash out at friend or foe, or even Fugo himself. It’s a representation of Fugo’s desire to isolate himself as a way to cope, which is a common trait among people with CPTSD (article here: https://medium.com/invisible-illness/the-reasons-people-with-complex-ptsd-self-isolate-846266b52a6d). That anger, and by extension Purple Haze, are walls and armor Fugo built.

Another obvious example would be Abbacchio. While his Stand is useful in the events of Vento Aureo, Moody Blues’ ability is a clear representation of symptoms of rumination in PTSD (article here: https://sites.tufts.edu/emotiononthebrain/2014/11/18/hooked-on-a-feeling-intrusive-and-ruminative-symptoms-in-ptsd/). It’s ability is to play back the events of the past, much like how a person with PTSD will replay the memories of a traumatic event in their minds. Obviously the trauma of losing his partner as a cop would make this make sense. Personally, this makes me feel like Abbacchio is one of the most tragic characters in part 5 at least. What would his stand look like if he hadn’t experienced what he had? Not to mention his meeting with Bruno heavily implies engaging in substance abuse. 

Less obvious, but still interesting would be Bruno’s stand. There’s an issue with children of divorce having to deal with “split loyalty.” Even if the divorce his parents had was amicable, and even if Bruno decided to stay with his father, he had to essentially split himself apart to stay loyal to both parents. I honestly highly doubt his mother was just cool with him staying with his father, either. But you could chalk that up to extrapolation. So how does this relate to his Stand? Well, remember the fight with Pesci? When Bruno had to divide his actual physical heart in half to survive? That was not just a fight, that was a demonstration of his childhood. 

This post is so long, I need to go to bed. And find a new job. I hope this made sense to someone. 

[ausetkmt]

New Alzheimer's drugs bring hope. But not equally for all patients.

https://www.washingtonpost.com/health/2024/01/29/alzheimers-new-drugs-black-patients-leqembi/

ABINGTON, Pa. — Wrapped in a purple blanket, Robert Williford settles into a quiet corner of a bustling neurology clinic, an IV line delivering a colorless liquid into his left arm.

The 67-year-old, who has early Alzheimer’s disease, is getting his initial dose of Leqembi. The drug is the first to clearly slow the fatal neurodegenerative ailment that afflicts 6.7 million older Americans, though the benefits may be modest. The retired social worker, one of the first African Americans to receive the treatment, hopes it will ease his forgetfulness so “I drive my wife less crazy.”

But as Williford and his doctors embark on this treatment, they are doing so with scant scientific data about how the medication might work in people of color. In the pivotal clinical trial for the drug, Black patients globallyaccounted for only 47 of the 1,795 participants — about 2.6 percent. For U.S. trial sites, the percentage was 4.5 percent.

The proportion of Black enrollees was similarly low for Eli Lilly Alzheimer’sdrug, called donanemab, expected to be cleared by the Food and Drug Administration in coming months. Black people make up more than 13 percent of the U.S. population.

The paltry data for the new class of groundbreaking drugs, which strip a sticky substance called amyloid beta from the brain, has ignited an intense debate among researchers and clinicians. Will the medications — the first glimmer of hope after years of failure — be as beneficial for African Americans as for White patients?

“Are these drugs going to work in non-Whites? And particularly in Blacks? We just don’t have enough data, I don’t think,” said Suzanne E. Schindler, a clinical neurologist and dementia specialist at Washington University in St. Louis. “In general, the default is that they will work the same in everybody, but we don’t really know that for sure.”

The situation casts a spotlight yet again on the decades-long failure of researchers to reflect the increasingly diverse character of the patient population in the United States, and underscores the stark disparities in Alzheimer’s treatment and care. Black Americans develop the disease and related dementias at twice the rate of their White counterparts, but are less likely to receive specialized care and are diagnosed at later stages, studies show. That’s an urgent problem considering that the new drugs must be used early to have an effect.

In addition, a perplexing new issue appears to be contributing to low Black enrollment in trials and is fueling a debate among experts about the role of race, genetics and other factors. To qualify for the main trial for Leqembi — developed by the Japanese pharmaceutical giant Eisai and the biotechnology company Biogen of Cambridge, Mass. — participants were required to have elevated levels of brain amyloid, a defining characteristic of Alzheimer’s, and symptoms such as memory loss.

But brain scans showed that the African American volunteers were less likely to have excess amyloid than White patients and thus were excluded from the trial at higher rates. Almost half of Black applicants failed to meet the amyloid threshold, compared with 22 percent of White volunteers, according to Eisai. A similar pattern occurred with the Lilly drug and in some other studies, and sometimes involved other people of color, including Hispanics.

Experts are baffled by the findings. Why would amyloid levels — thought to be a key driver of Alzheimer’s — be different in people with similar cognitive problems?

“Is it the color of someone’s skin? Almost certainly not,” said Joshua D. Grill, an Alzheimer’s researcher at the University of California at Irvine. “Is it a difference in genetics? Or other health conditions, like cholesterol, blood pressure or vascular health? Or is it something else, that we haven’t measured?”

While the biology of Alzheimer’s is almost surely the same regardless of race, some researchers say the patients themselves might be different because of underlying health conditions. Some older Black patients diagnosed with Alzheimer’s, they say, might actually have vascular dementia stemming from heart disease, hypertension and diabetes — all conditions more prevalent among African American patients.

The risk of vascular damage also could be increased by a lack of access to health care and years of exposure to racism, as well as genetics, some experts say. And many patients could have a constellation of pathologies driven by other factors, they add.

Whatever the cause, experts say, the bottom line is the same: Patients who do not have excessive amounts of the sticky brain protein should not be treated with the amyloid-targeting drugs because the therapies are unlikely to work and pose substantial risks, including potentially deadly bleeding in the brain.

But that raises the specter of another disparity. If it turns out that a lower proportion of Black dementia patients and other people of color have excess amyloid, they could be left behind as the drug industry races to develop amyloid-reducing treatments. To counter that, experts are urging companies to accelerate work addressingother potential drivers of cognitive decline and to develop combination drugs with multiple targets.

“If we are just targeting amyloid, we can just miss a large potential population that might benefit from treatment,” said Lisa L. Barnes, a neuropsychologist at Rush University in Chicago.

‘A brain is a brain’

For now, the question remains: What should Black patients and their doctors think about the anti-amyloid drugs?

The answer, experts say, depends largely on the level of amyloid in their brains.

More than a year ago, Williford was diagnosed with early Alzheimer’s by David C. Weisman, a neurologist at Abington Neurological Associates, a large practice north of Philadelphia that treats patients and conducts clinical trials for drug companies. The clinic was one of the test sites for Leqembi.

After Leqembi receivedfull FDA approval last summer, Williford underwent tests to determine whether he was a good candidate for the drug. One test — a lumbar puncture, sometimes called a spinal tap — showed elevated amyloid in his brain. That means Williford and similar patients are likely to benefit from an anti-amyloid medication regardless of their race or ethnicity, Weisman and several other experts said.

“A brain is a brain is a brain, whether it is Asian, Hispanic, African American or White,” Weisman said. “A patient is either a good fit or a bad fit, and Robert is a good fit.”

Williford, who spent years working with troubled families in Philadelphia, began having memory problems a few years ago, said his wife, Cynthia Byron-Williford, 59.

“You could tell him almost anything, and he would almost immediately forget,” she said. “If I asked him to make a peanut butter sandwich for our grandson, he would come back three times and say, ‘What am I supposed to do?’”

With few treatment options, many physicians say they will offer anti-amyloid therapy to any patient who has elevated levels of the substance and passes safety tests.

Barry W. Rovner, a neurology professor at Thomas Jefferson University in Philadelphia, said he would not hesitate to offer Leqembi to African American patients who tested positive for amyloid. But, he added, because of the low numbers of Black individuals in the Leqembi trial, “I would say, ‘Look, this has not been tried in many Black people, so we don’t know precisely how it is going to work. But you don’t know precisely how it will work in any person.’”

From a research perspective, “You could say, as a group we don’t know if Black individuals respond the same way to anti-amyloid drugs because we don’t have the data,” Washington University’s Schindler said. “But on an individual level, it is different. If I had a Black patient who was amyloid-positive, I would start him on these drugs.”

But some Black patients might not be comfortable with the medication.

Zaldy S. Tan, director of the memory disorders center at Cedars-Sinai Medical Center in Los Angeles, said when African American patients are informed about the risks and benefits of Leqembi, and about the sparse data available for Black individuals, some will “take a pause and question whether they are willing to accept the uncertainty” and challenges of receiving the every-other-week infusion and multiple follow-up tests.

A promise of diversity

The best way to know for sure how drugs for Alzheimer’s — and other diseases — affect different populations is to have more diversity in trials, experts agree. But research participation by Black Americans and other people of color has been held down for years for several reasons.

The 20th century’s infamous Tuskegee syphilis study created long-standing mistrust about trials within the African American community. Men were left untreated to suffer and die even after an effective treatment emerged for the bacterium.

Alzheimer’s research, meanwhile, has long been centered in memory clinics at elite academic institutions, which tend to attract well-heeled patients with health insurance and other resources. The clinics have served as effective recruiting grounds for trials that end up with a predominantly White enrollment.

“We have done a poor job of making African American Alzheimer’s research inclusive,” said John Morris, a neurologist at Washington University in St. Louis. More than two decades ago, he created an African American advisory board at the school’s Knight Alzheimer Disease Research Center after realizing only 3 percent of trial participants were Black.

Others also are redoubling efforts to increase diversity. John Dwyer, president of the Global Alzheimer’s Platform Foundation, a nonprofit that runs trials, said the organization has sharply increased participation by people of color by sending dedicated teams of African American and Latino professionals into communities to build relationships with physicians and personnel at health centers, senior centers and places of worship. They stress to the communities how much they can benefit from the studies, he said.

Stephanie Monroe, vice president and senior adviser of health equity and access at the advocacy group UsAgainstAlzheimer’s, noted that low Black enrollment is not limited to Alzheimer’s trials. If all the drugs that have not been tested on people of color were eliminated, the shelves of pharmacies would be nearly empty, she said.

“That doesn’t work when you are almost a 50-50 minority/majority population,” Monroe said.

The FDA has issued guidelines for industry designed to bolster diversity in studies, while the National Institute on Aging recently pledged toprioritize funding requests that are “appropriately inclusive.”

The low Black enrollment in studies is just the latest controversy involving the anti-amyloid drugs. For years, earlier versions of the drugs failed repeatedly in trials. By contrast, Leqembi, in an 18-month trial, showed unambiguous, if modest, benefits, slowing disease progression by about 27 percent, or roughlyfive months. The drug, administered every other week, carries a list price of $26,500 a year.

In July, Lilly reported that its anti-amyloid drug, donanemab, was even more effective at removing amyloid. But like Leqembi, it can cause serious side effects, including brain hemorrhages. Some doctors think the drugs will provide bigger benefits when taken for a longer period or earlier in the disease, but others say the medications, which require repeated MRIs to check for side effects, leave much to be desired.

Both Eisai and Lilly said they are working hard to increase diversity in clinical trials. In the meantime, they said, patients with elevated amyloid should benefit from the anti-amyloid drugs, regardless of race or ethnicity.

“We have no pathophysiological reason to expect different efficacy between races and ethnicities for Alzheimer’s treatments that remove amyloid,”Lillysaid in a statement.

Eisai acknowledged that the Leqembi trial was not designed to test the drug in individual racial and ethnic subgroups. But it said in a statement that the totality of the evidence indicated that “all patients, regardless of ethnicity, benefited from treatment” with the drug.

“We and the U.S. FDA — as evidenced by the agency’s approval of Leqembi — believe that the benefits and risks in these patient populations and races has been established,” the company added. Eisai said volunteers who did not pass the amyloid threshold did not have Alzheimer’s and should be assessed for other conditions.

In an interview, Teresa Buracchio, acting director of the FDA’s Office of Neuroscience, said the agency “did not see a notable difference by race” in safety and effectiveness in the limited data available on subgroups in the Leqembi trial.

But other experts were skeptical, saying the number of Black patients in the Leqembi trial was too low to know whether the medication is safe and effective for African Americans. “Without having a representative population, it is impossible to assess,” said Barnes, of Rush University.Some researchers suggested that patients in underrepresented populations should wait for future advances in treatment.

‘We just want to get going’

On a recent day, nurse Christine Besso bustled in and out of Williford’s infusion room at the neurology clinic, taking his vital signs and inserting an IV line. “Let’s get this party started,” she said.

Byron-Williford, watching the process from a nearby couch, said she was not concerned about the low numbers of African Americans in the Leqembi trial.

“I think it will work or not work based on the individual,” she said, adding with a laugh, “and if it doesn’t work for him, it is because he is ornery.”

Byron-Williford said her husband’s health problems accelerated a few years ago after his son, who was in his early 20s, died unexpectedly. Williford became depressed and lost his appetite. Last summer, when he went to pick up his wife at a nearby hair salon, he drove around, lost. She later confiscated his car keys.

In the clinic, shortly after Williford’s infusion began, Weisman stopped in to check on him and discuss possible side effects. When Williford asked him how long he would be on the drug, Weisman shrugged, saying it depended on how he did on the drug and on test results.

“We are getting on an airplane, and we don’t even have a destination airport yet,” Weisman said. “We just want to get going.”

[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?

[wawawawawawawawawawawawawa]

the anon who doesnt have aspd and taught myself empathy again here! i've never talked to a psych (self diagnosed autism) and as a teen i was p sure i had aspd (i Knew shit was strange w me and really wanted an explanation and once i figured out my mix of trauma and autism things made sense) coz lack of remorse and shit but i never actually really matched the rest of it -- i dont have substance abuse issues and never have, im p easily entertained, i've had the same three friends basically my entire life. i do though describe myself as the worlds most boring hedonist coz like yeah i sometimes have a hard time controlling my impulses and im motivated by fun but for me thats usually p simple -- easily entertained. read a book, video games, jump around to music. i AM frequently bored though?? like its my most frequent emotion and ive spent a Long time learning to cultivate my joy and really feel it properly. but im also the most easily excitable person i know. i dunno, i have v large emotions that appear then disappear quite quickly. a favourire hobby of mine since i was a kid has been to start arguments between the ppl i care abt and see how large i could make them in a single session then solve the argument w/o the ppl realising i'd manufactured and egged on the argument. which typing that out now seems uh. an interesting hobby. but late last year i told my younger brother and he laughed coz its a v me thing to do and was like "yo thats fucked. pls stop doing it to me" so since then ive mainly tried to just like playfully tease ppl in a normal way coz cognitively i understand its a fucked thing to do and im trynna be like, a decent person who doesnt go outta my way to play w ppl for funsies. which yeah that uh... maybe i Should look into aspd more again, i did a fairly shallow look into it as a teen and relating to azula as much as i did as a kid (and izaya as an older teen/young adult) was deff a sign of smth

i've followed you on this blog for a while (i think you'd only had it for a couple weeks when i first followed u?) so yeah i did know the story abt u and ur fiance! v cute

i feel like maybe we need a different identifier than "the anon who doesnt have aspd" because that might not be, uh. accurate! i have o clue why a lot of people with aspd seem to congregate around my account but i guess this is an aspd helpline now??????? whuh????

like im not complaining its just. how did i get here

also i think ive deadass used the "worlds most boring hedonist" descriptor for myself before and i deal w chronic boredom the same way you do- i have a LOT of hobbies and i plan elaborate projects and that entertains me but only temporarily

and thats the thing about aspd! it- like every other disorder- is a spectrum. you might not have substance abuse issues, and i do. you did.... your interesting hobby, and i find it morally fucked!* i have no idea your relationship with criminality, and i got fired for stealing

*i have done something similar but i have a moral policy of like, only fucking with people who Deserve It. who deserves what varies case by case and what exactly i do... i need to explain weird spiritual stuff to go in depth andyeah im not really itchin to be called crazy on tumblr dot cum

aspd in general is very misunderstood and no literature really focuses on what its like to have the disorder, only the perceived damage being around someone with the disorder will bring- which is why i initially self diagnosed thru tumblr posts from ppl talking about their symptoms in a serious educative way

sometimes i think like, maybe i don't have aspd, maybe i'm just autistic and i'm spreading misinformation- but i never really felt "at home" with other autistic people. its like- yeah i click better with other autistic people, but i'm still masking, i'm still faking, and even in this situation i can drop the mask partially but not fully. growing up with a personality disorder and trauma in communities largely filled with autistic people with trauma, very quickly teaches you that there's something different about you. it's an isolating, traumatizing feeling- my experience with this was mainly symptoms of npd, but like.... knowing you have a problem, wanting it fixed, and knowing nobody around you knows how deep the problem runs, and might even find its existence laughable or dangerous... it's isolating! and its shitty!!

generally i tend to Know if things i'm doing are bad or not, i just tend to not care in the moment, because it's better than being bored! entertainment wins out over everything. it's actually kind of terrible; i'll do stuff just to see a reaction out of people- it's like izaya, honestly, what happens when people are pushed to their breaking points?

thats kind of how i got so much into angst and psychological horror. not only did i want to break the characters, i wanted to break my audience. i'd tell my friends detailed stories about torture partly because i was interested in my story, mostly because i wanted to see their horrified reactions. i wanted to see how far was "too far," and i keep that stuff in my current narratives- i keep the pov extremely tight and do silly little tricks with narrative and formatting to make the audience feel like they're Really There

so yeah look into aspd. do it boy listen to me im the ps5 im speaking to you inside your brain. do it boy do it

[butts-bouncing-on-the-beltway]

Reasons I - a licensed and practicing social worker at the time - did not go to a shelter when I was homeless:

They would have separated me and my wife because they didn't have unsegregated shelters in the whole county and she was my primary caregiver at the time for a potentially fatal chronic illness

I would have had nowhere for my service dog and cats to go and would have had to surrender them despite loving each dearly and having raised every one from birth (literally the only home they knew) and the trauma that would be caused on all sides by rehoming them

I would not have been able to keep my full time job as count EMS because I worked the night shift and rarely got home before 1am - the latest curfew for any shelter was 9pm

I would not have been able to do drugs in the shelter - including the medical marijauna that was keeping me out of a wheelchair and the recreational marijuana that was keeping me from killing myself

I would have been required to STOP seeing my current therapist (an out of state clinician with an instate license) and START seeing a clinician affiliated with them (aka a clinician FROM THE JOB I WORKED AT WHO WAS LITERALLY MY DIRECT COLLEAGUE AKA PRIVACY WHAT PRIVACY)

I worked for county EMS, including in housing coordination, and so I knew for 100% certain that every shelter in the state was at full capacity with zero beds, and had been for over six months straight so there literally WAS NO SHELTER TO GO TO which wouldn't stop them from documenting me as "refusing shelter" when I explained this as the reason why I did not want to be referred

People are not irrational, no matter how many mitigating circumstances (they're crazy! They're addicts! They're narcissists! They're [insert whatever term we've decided to classify "not human enough to be worth understanding" as]!) People will do the things that make sense to keep themselves alive. And that often will not look as you expect it to because YOU ARE NOT THEM and the things you each take into consideration and how you decide on actions looks different! Inherently!

If someone is refusing shelter to "do drugs" I guarantee you, that is because when you do drugs (yes including the "bad" ones) it is EXTREMELY dangerous physically, mentally, emotionally, etc to just. Stop. You can't usually do that. In some cases (like alcohol) doing so may literally directly kill you via withdrawal symptoms. In others, the harm it does may be the fallout of no longer meeting the need it met, and that can still be anywhere from unpleasant to nightmareish to deadly.

Rather than ask why someone would refuse shelter to do drugs (puts the burden of the shelter refusal on the individual despite them having zero autonomy in the process outside of doing a thing that may or may not kill them), ask why we would refuse anyone shelter as a PUNISHMENT for addiction (places the burden on the shelter who made and maintain the policy of refusing services to addicts not in abstinence phase, and who by law have access to all the research and knowledge that confirms this to be an outright deadly and ineffective model of housing aid OR addiction abstinence phase cultivation, let alone actual healthy coping with or without substances and other tools)

That is where the burden of the alienation from services lies after all. Objectively. So why do we blame humans for responding to the policy the way humans do? Making a rational decision based on what they know of how to survive. Even if you don't think it would be your decision.

Anytime you find yourself asserting that someone is "acting against their best interests" I strongly recommend asking if that's really true, or if they're acting against what YOU have decided are their "best interests" without asking them?

I'm not saying that someone with different ideas of their own "best interest" from you is inherently right about that or how they act on it! Obviously there are times when we all internalize something as "in our best interest" when it isn't. But the fact that we have done that still matters. In how we talk to each other. In how we understand each other's decisions and actions. In preserving autonomy while maintaining space for protection of infringement on rights by one party against another. You'll miss a LOT about how to coexist with other humans safely and comfortably if you write them off as irrational because they came to a different conclusion than you in similar circumstances.

Also, like, I'm sorry but if you've set up a free shelter, and people refuse to go because sleeping on the sidewalk under a freeway bridge is more pleasant, that's fucking on you, that's not on them.

You really can't compete with sleeping under the overpass so you are going to force people into shelter?

Unspeakably cruel and stupid.

[makangerous]

Fukuya Rank 5 (Temperance Confidant)

TW: addiction

You receive a text message from Fukuya.

Emi, tonight… Can you come over to my place? If not tonight, sometime soon, please. I'm not getting better. I need that sincere help of yours really badly. I'm sorry.

(His place? I should call him as soon as I have time to head over.)

You call Fukuya.

Emi, thank God you called. I'm ashamed I need to ask this of you. I need someone to stay at my house with me and watch over me until I fall asleep. I'm not asking for any kind of intimacy. Bring your homework, or video games, or whatever. You're the only one who can do me this favor. I'll text you my address.

He hangs up abruptly, before you can say anything. You pack a bag and travel to the address he sent. You ring the doorbell, and he answers.

You showed… The worst is over, Fukuya. You can make it through the night. Oh, come in. My parents aren't here. My dad's overseas for work, and my mom's at some seminar thing with my uncle. I usually have the house to myself. You can set up in the living room. I'm going to be functionally useless, so don't feel like you have to include me in your activities. All I ask is you don't let me go into my bedroom. Do NOT let me touch my chemistry set. If that happens, I WILL relapse.

>Fukuya, you're shaking.

Of course I am. That's a withdrawal symptom. Every fiber of my body is screaming at me, demanding more than I can handle. I can synthesize a near facsimile of what I need almost immediately, and that knowledge is driving me insane. It's so frustrating, when I have such a short time to go…

This is entirely my own fault. As much as I'm begging you to assist me, if you turn around and walk out the door, I understand. You see, I don't have a virus, or a disease, or anything like that. I'm recovering from an addiction. An addiction to something I created with my own two hands. You could call it an energy drink, and I naively did, but really, it's a drug.

When I discovered I could use my chemicals to punch up my coffee, I considered whether coffee was really the best medium for the energy density I needed. Back then, I had to maintain the best grades in the whole school, lead the science club, cook myself dinner, run a bunch of back-to-back tutoring sessions, and help all my friends with homework. Yeah, I used to have a lot of friends. Isn't that crazy? I was cracking under the stress of cramming all those tasks into 24 hours a day. So I got a bunch of stimulants, some of them illegally, and whipped them into a cocktail. I nicknamed it Resurr-EX. I drank it every day. For a while, my efficiency peaked. Everything felt like it took no time at all. But it took more and more Resurr-EX to maintain the same effect. Eventually, I drank so much of it in one sitting, I wound up in the hospital in excruciating pain. I had a heart attack… I almost died.

>Why didn't you ask for help?

I couldn't. I felt like if I dropped a single one of those tasks from my pile, I'd be a failure. And could you imagine what would happen if my parents found out I gave myself an addiction? Of course, you've never met them, but you can imagine. I'd never be allowed to touch chemicals again.

Since then, I've been recovering from my addiction. You're not really supposed to quit cold turkey, but… It's not like I had anyone to control my doses. And clearly, I can't trust myself. The withdrawal symptoms were godawful the first few weeks. Then they faded for a while. You got to know me during that period. But now, so close to when I calculated the finish line to be, they're worse than ever.

I know there's a simple solution to this. I should throw away my chemistry set. I already disposed of the illegal substances. But I can't bring myself to. Experimenting makes me feel more alive than anything else. I still believe I can create something useful to people. I have to.

>You already have.

Are you talking about the coffee and detergent I showed you? That's good to hear. I've considered starting a company and selling them. That's far too much of a hassle to do anytime soon, though.

Saying this aloud… I think it's renewing my resolve. I'll come up with something for us to do! I refuse to sit around and be useless, even if my own body's fighting me. Emi, do you like video games? Normally, I detest co-op, but the partner AI's so stupid in this one boss fight, I can't beat it alone. Want to give it a shot? You'll outplay my trembling fingers for sure.

You play video games with Fukuya and manage to beat the boss. After an elaborate death cutscene, you look over and see Fukuya fast asleep on the couch. You'd better get back to Leblanc…

[gutlesh]

Day 7 tolerance break

10am

Woke up a while ago with w/d symptoms: stomach/guts hurting, muscle aches. I seem to have some energy/anxiety coming back bc i was driven to do some little admin tasks (renewing library books, filling out timesheet) that ive been putting off for a week.

I'm not looking forward to dealing with the GI symptoms since im gonna be out of the house for most of today at a pride event somewhere new to me. I'll bring some tylenol with me and not eat anything crazy and hope for the best? There might also be a party i go to so I'm not sure how that will be re:substances, it's advertised as all ages so i guess it won't be too substance heavy. If its too rough i will just leave meep. It's a 2 hour trip home so i'll have 2 leave kinda early anyways.

I should also bring stuff to help me sensory/autism cope. Headphones, stim toy, familiar snacks, gum, sunglasses. Maybe i should wear sunscreen we'll probably be outside a while. At least it wont be very hot today :')

Ah besides the worries im excited to hang out w the person who invited me and get to know him better, and i'm really curious about what this event will be like bc ive never been to a pride parade or any other event by indigenous ppl. Part of me is worried abt offending people and while thats well intentioned i know its the sjw brainwashing lol as long as i am chill and nice and follow the lead of people around me im sure it will be fine. And if i mess up i can trust the ppl around me to tell me and ill fix it bc i am a mature adult who can take criticism, and being criticised or hurting other ppls feelings doesnt make me a bad person it just means i made a mistake which everyone does. How would i even know everything abt being indigenous when i'm not. Lol. God tumblr interacted so badly with my morality ocd i'm still undoing the damage 10 years on 😔😔 sometimes i wish i grew up like more normal but id just be messed up in some other way lbr

Anyway!!!! Im gonna dress up in a cute lil goth girl fit and itll be fun and ill meet cool people and probably hear cool music and eat new food and get to know this sick dood who i wanna kiss hehehehe. And i will NOT shit myself. Manifesting it 😤😤😤🙏🙏 w/d switching from constipation to diarrhea was such a dirty move like girl cmon im not even going away forever just takin some space i still love u miss mary jane u dont have to do all this 😩