#then know that i got the diagnosis

[do-you-ship-it-polls]

Do you ship it?

autism x adhd was submitted but this was a top result so I decided that little tourette creatur can also join. art by JuniperTheMoth on Reddit.

reason: Solidarity and comorbidity

tag: @ivywing

[3-aem]

universal healthcare is not broken and anyone trying to convince you it is is delusional and a dckrider for big health insurance. yes there are wait times but waiting for care is Not the same as being denied care.

in america your physician prescribes care and an insurer can still cuck you out of it because someone across the continent who has never met you can say: doesn’t seem medically necessary. Leaving you to handle a bill that is wildly inflated by the same insurers that just denied you.

let me drill it through your head you can pay thousands a year in premiums and still end up sick and financially burdened for years by One incident. no insurance company is Avoiding going broke by denying claims. theyre doing it to profit off your misfortune and your illness. Because healthcare fundamentally does not cost the amount that they claim it to be.

[thebibliosphere]

Staring at the 5 different Word documents I have open at the moment and muttering, "Once my body gets out of survival mode, it's over for you bitches."

[pikhachu]

sighh late night extra bc i got pissed off and what i feel she feels

[anghraine]

I know this isn't only an autistic thing or always an autistic thing, but over the least few years, I've realized that a lot of my difficulties with humor are not actually with humor itself. If anything, there are specific kinds of humor that really work for me and I end up laughing so much harder and longer than everyone else that it's uncomfortable or embarrassing.

But a lot of popular humor fundamentally relies on saying things that aren't true. Sometimes this is drastic exaggeration, sometimes it's OTT parody that is far more about Being Funny than about the actual thing being parodied, and often it's flatly false and that's what is supposed to be funny about it. And yes, that's a humorless and ungracious way to describe that kind of humor—I don't mean to say that this is objectively bad or something.

I even understand the jokes intellectually. But in the vast majority of cases, there is something deeply unfunny to me about jokes reliant on something that is either obviously untrue or which I firmly disagree with.

I've seen quite a few posts recently about how, in online fandom, mocking your faves or being amused at other people mocking your faves is an important part of fandom culture. But for me, jokes about my faves based on things they actually said or did, or qualities they clearly possess, can be very funny, while jokes that are based on misrepresentations—even obvious, it's-all-in-good-fun-and-we-all-know-the-truth misrepresentations—are tedious at best.

For an easy example: Anakin and Luke Skywalker are two of my main Star Wars faves. Jokes about sand or Anakin mass-murdering children in his good phase or Luke being far less concerned than Han over the revelation of who his twin is or "it's not faaaaair" can still be really funny to me when told right. Jokes about Anakin obviously mind-tricking Padmé or Luke being obviously an eternally optimistic loser twink are intensely annoying to me regardless of context or delivery, not because they're comparably objectionable or anything but because they're not true.

Functionally this does cut out a lot of humor—especially online humor—but it's not that I literally don't understand it. I get it. I just don't get it.

[youling-the-ghost]

I just opened Luke's fandom wiki page to add the new ADHD status, opened Divorces and Teddy Bears to search for the timestamp where Sam and Luke talk about Luke's ADHD, sat through the entirety of the longform, and closed the tab having completely forgotten about the timestamp.

The irony of this entire sequence is hilarious.

[milogoestogreendale]

over a year later but. THE PROPHECY HAS BEEN FULFILLED

[arthurs-vaccine]

Sure, tuberculosis can cause hallucinations and psychosis to an extent. That's why it's heavily theorised that Joan of Arc's famous visions were due to possible untreated tuberculosis.

But for Arthur's case, I don't think he saw the deer visions because of his tuberculosis. There's definitely some poetry in there if it was, but I think we're allowed to have unexplainable divine interventions sometimes.

Arthur would had to have been on death's door from very early on to experience that level of psychosis, which he wasn't until much later.

The world of rdr2 is realistic and full of painful, historical, truths, but there's also so much whimsy and supernatural mystery if you know where to look. Whatever Arthur saw, no matter how he saw it, was more of a reflection if anything.

[phoenixcatch7]

Kintsukuroi

'What if I put a clock pendulum in my torso' was the sort of question Bruce had come to expect when visiting Oracle.

"Pendulums are dependant on a stable base," he replied, because the last time he'd assumed they were being unserious Tim had tried to fit a chemistry test lab in his mouth and accidentally leaked the fumes through his mask.

"It'd be so aesthetic though," said Barbara, not looking up from the dozen screens she was surrounded by. "Listen. It would look so cool - Spoiler, robbery on fifth and main - Especially if I put a clock face over my heart."

"I thought you were trying to fit a super computer in it?"

"I was, but progress is slow. It's hard to fit it and enough padding to protect it plus leave enough room for ventilation. If I add the pendulum I might at least get inspiration." She gave a heavy sigh and pushed away from the desk, gliding in her chair to where her doll body was resting on a table, the glue separating the two halves of the smashed torso still glistening. Bruce followed, peering over her at the many scanners and wires hooked into it, flashing and beeping.

"Any luck?" he asked, and they both knew he wasn't talking about the computer anymore.

"Nothing."

He squeezed her shoulder, and she leant into it. They stayed there for a long moment.

"I just don't understand!" Barbara finally burst out, hands clenching on her chair arms. "I glued nearly every single piece back together! I made sure every splinter I could find went exactly where it should! I know the contract is still there. She's worked with more missing pieces before. But she's just not responding!"

"It's not you," Bruce soothed. "You've more than enough determination and strength to puppet, and we know the human body's state doesn't affect performance."

"That's the thing!" Barbara threw her hands up angrily, nearly smacking Bruce in the face. There was a chatter over comms, and both reached for their own. "One second," she said tightly, and wheeled back into the glow of the monitors. "Copy. BW, you're nearest? Thanks. Try and avoid the sniper this time. Wing, backup is in five."

She muted again and spun around, pinning Bruce with a heavy stare. "Is there anything, anything you can think of? We've - nothing I've tried has worked."

"Well...." He trailed off, one hand coming up to rub at the chin of his mask - a quiet night meant the opportunity to forgo the practical but muffling gas mask for his favoured plain black.

It was far from the first time a doll had been horrifically damaged. The incident with Bane came to mind - Batman had been in a very similar condition, body shorn clean in two and tossed to opposite corners. It was an awful memory, but the expression on Bane and the audience's faces as his bloodless body fell apart like a rotting tree trunk and then kept moving was a silver lining he'd always treasure.

But he'd been repaired and back on his feet in weeks, if bearing the incandescent fury of the doll for several more. It had been months for Barbara, and still nothing was happening.

"There's something we're missing, and I doubt it's on your side."

"I know THAT-"

"Listen," he demanded, and her jaw clicked shut mutinously. "There's something we're not seeing. Batgirl is in no shape to demand it herself, it seems. So its inaction is something we can't fully rely on."

"You've got the most experience with the dolls of all of us. Can you.. I don't know, sense anything?"

"Nothing more than the usual, with the Patriarch Doll, but we might get more if we return to the doll house -"

"No." Barbara interrupted again, but Bruce did not take offence. "She's not going anywhere. She doesn't want to head back to the cave."

Oh?

"She doesn't want to, or she doesn't care to?"

"I say she doesn't."

Interesting. This was likely a case of the doll exerting its will. The bats were well versed in avoiding the few lines their wooden bodies drew in the sand, treating them with the wary respect one would give a favorite blade or a highly trained attack dog. They could work together, share the highs and lows of life with them, but never get complacent. The dolls were forever a foreign, inhuman presence, and as with all wild creatures they would never be so arrogant as to assume full understanding. For Barbara to so strongly decide for the doll meant she was most likely not the only one deciding.

Which meant the solution would not be found in the cave.

"Perhaps there are upgrades she wishes to have?"

Oracle paused.

"Maybe," she conceded. "But there's practically a limitless amount of things I could do, and I wouldn't know where to start. And I could more easily do them when she's up and walking."

Not that then. If the doll wanted something to change but not receive upgrades or heal, than what?

... Not heal.

Batman hurried to the table. Oracle watched him with hawk eyes, but another call on the comms turned her away with a final warning glance.

Recovering every single splinter from a damaged wooden object and perfectly reattaching it was nigh impossible on a good day, never mind in the dead of night with a moving target. The dolls always returned to the cave to regenerate scratches and nicks they couldn't buff out, or accepted plaster to transmute with whatever supernatural power guided them.

The batgirl on the table, divested of all covering and armour, was still as chipped and scuffed as the day nightwing recovered last splinter.

The pieces fell into place.

"She doesn't want to be perfectly rebuilt," he realised. "She doesn't want the damage to disappear as it normally does... She wants it to remain visible. A different type of repair, then."

Oracle spun in her wheelchair to face him.

"Why?" she asked, something sharp in her eyes. Bruce chose his next words carefully.

"Perhaps she thinks such damage doesn't need to be hidden away," he said, slowly, and didn't comment when she turned away. Though she put on a strong face, and the doctors had recently released her full time, it would be a long time until the young hero was able to truly heal her mind.

"She doesn't need to do that for me. She's just causing me trouble."

"I don't think she is," he tried. "Dolls tend to reflect their puppeteer even after they accept us. You can't deny your trajectory has been changed."

They both sent a significant look to the enormous super computer taking up the wall.

"You've said you almost feel better able to protect Gotham now, with your reach and skills. Do you really feel that way?"

"I - I don't -" her mouth worked silently, and Bruce waited. "I mean I guess... But a part of me always assumed it'd be temporary, you know? Once I fixed batgirl.. It'd all return to normal." Her voice wobbled, and Bruce didn't hesitate to crouch before her, wrapping her in a long armed hug. She buried herself in his chest, regardless of the chilled metal.

"It's okay if you don't," he whispered into her hair, and held her as she shook. "I'm just throwing ideas around."

"I do though," she rasped. "I think I do feel that way. There's so much that can't be solved by violence, and it feels good to be out there but... I think I can help even more people, this way."

"That's good," he praised, "that's good. You can do whatever you set your mind to."

"You stole that from a parenting book verbatim."

"It's applicable to the current situation."

"Fine," she sighed, and pushed him away to roughly scrub at her eyes. "I'll give the doll another chance. Find some glitter glue or something, I don't know."

"Any materials you need will be provided," he promised. "I wouldn't recommend glitter glue or our usual tar."

He moved to pat her on the hair as the emotions of the moment faded, making sure to keep his unsheathed claws out of her hair.

"Once you fix her, though, I would recommend you puppet the doll during night hours still," he told her. "It wouldn't be good to put your body through twenty hour days."

"I've got a good system set up for now, but thank, B-man."

The computer dinged with another alert, and oracle spun to squint at it with a muffled curse, typing furiously. Batman escaped to the other side of the room, where the folders he'd originally come looking for lay. She waved, distracted, as he left, and although the doll could not smile, he could feel it on his face all the same.

@puppetmaster13u I summon thee dear mutual ^^

[whirlybirbs]

not to be insane on main but listening to the vacant mirrors playlist makes me so deeply nostalgic, it feels like someone is wrenching my soul from my chest.

[sillyengineerperson]

So lads, today I have been diagnosed with ASD and ADHD

and i also finished watching dead boy detectives

my brain is in shambles right now

[scopophobia-polaris]

And if I said I will do $10usd bust commissions

[pseudophan]

gonna be so sad when tonight is the first preshow space with good audio and i'm asleep because i have a psych appointment tomorrow

[ominous-faechild]

Guys I literally JUST realized a thing about my autism/masking/alexithymia. I noticed there was an alexithymia tag here on tumblr and when I investigated, there was this one post listing these symptoms:

and I just--

I've had these exact, MAJOR struggles through my whole life for one.

But for two, and what's really interesting in my opinion...

Yesterday, I was having a video call with my mom. I've been off of some medications that I'm supposed to be taking because of financial issues, so my mental is NOT in a great place and I've had NO spoons for the past month. But while on call with her, she seriously, unironically, asked me if I thought I really needed the meds. Because, apparently, I "wasn't acting like I needed them" or something like that. And I'm sure I don't need to explain why that pissed me tf off.

But, like... at the time, the closest thing I could come up with for an answer was that "I have no spoons and no energy to do anything"; "I lived 17 years without meds, I kind-of know how to fake it"; and "I haven't had much socializing lately, so I have enough Social Energy™ to fake being okay right now."

Now that I'm not being put on the spot and after reading that post, I'm slowly figuring out that I've always done this. I mean, I've obviously always struggled to describe my own emotions and need to analyze my physical reactions to figure them out, but like. I'm just now starting to realize that I've really struggled to describe exactly how I'm "feeling bad" or, in fact, that I am feeling bad at all.

I mean, again, considering the alexithymia, that last part is a given. But it's kinda putting into perspective exactly how I've always had to understand "I don't have the energy to do anything" or "it's incredibly difficult to do anything" or "something deep inside of me feels Wrong™ and I can neither address nor identify it". I'd just passively have those "feelings" and struggle to continue life despite them.

It brings back thoughts of my struggles with masking, and how I was never diagnosed with autism as a child. Looking back, it should've been incredibly obvious. I had SO many of the tell-tale signs. But I guess it wasn't today, and there wasn't anywhere near as much awareness of what those signs were... but really. Textbook.

I'm sure my masking made it more difficult to recognize the signs as I got older. Hell, I even read over different "autism diagnosis checklist"s countless times, thinking to myself "oh wow it's a lot like me!... exceeeeeptttt--" and moved on from there.

I keep digressing. My point is, since discovering my autism and how it was hidden by masking, I've always wondered where my mask ends and where I begin. Most of the time, I feel like I feel nothing, even when I'm not depressed. I've been told I don't show my emotions, like when I'm happy (aka my chest is light and I feel free). That, or people can't tell when I like/dislike them (though that's partially a trauma thing). Other times, I've been told I'm smiling when I didn't even realize I was happy, much less that I was actually smiling. Some people have told me I'm incredibly easy to read, that my emotions show very clearly. But how can they when I feel like I feel nothing?

Which leads me back to what I said earlier, my conversation with my mother. How she asked if I actually need my meds because "I don't seem like I do". I guess I kind-of understand now, why she might've seen it that way. Do most people always show signs of how they actually feel? And how does the fact that I "don't feel" effect what I show?

I've wondered about that for a while. How much of how I act is because I was trained to, one way or another? How much of the emotion I show is because I learned to? Do I even show the emotions I feel? I really can't know because the people I know irl, who would better be able to tell me how I act, aren't understanding of any of these things. My older sister is lowkey ableist and thinks she sees the grand plan of the universe, my mother is too "pull yourself up by the bootstraps!!!" to accept Spoon Theory or mental health struggles, and just about everyone else in my life comes and goes as quickly as the wind.

Anyhow, this was a long rant that I've kinda had half-formed thoughts about for a while. Thanks for reading, hopefully this can help or entertain whoever stumbles upon this?

[psychabolition]

I got diagnosed with a "Conduct disorder confined to family context" when I was 11 and it's such a weird diagnosis... "You only show bad behavior in presence of your family? Must be a sign of chemical imbalance!" lol

Huh ???😂😭 . Diagnosis: Evil Child (but only when parents are present) .

I think its generally extremely weird when children get a psychiatric diagnosis. Like who does that help . I think it literally only "helps" to make the parents feel better because they can just place all the blame on the child . Like instead of asking themselves if the educational system sucks or if the nuclear family sucks and thats why someone might be doing really bad , the parents just individualize the problems of their child. Instead of asking themselves if there might be a reasonable reason for someone to feel awful or act the way they do . It is easier to blame the person , thats in the position where its the most difficult to change the situation theyre in, for their own struggles ig.