#therapy is tomorrow and i honestly don't know what to do until then

[hecate-spawn]

Dating people is so weird. I'm weird. I think if you're interested you should try it like once. Or twice. I think there are a lot of things I want to say and talk about I'm just worried nobody wants to hear them. Hello from the void

[harrystylesfan2686]

Alone

Pairing: no one really.

Summary: Reader starts to feel left out in her own family...

Warnings: Neglection. Suicide thoughts. Self harm (in detail) please go back if any of these bother you. Your mental heath matters more.

A/N: I think I need therapy too...

Masterlist Part 2(Azriel) Part 2(Eris)

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Ever wondered what it's like to be alone?

It's a game, really. A game of utter self degradation. A game where there are only two players, you and your mind. A game where you never truly win and you always have to keep playing because your brain never tires.

A game which no one else realizes your playing until you lose and it's too late.

It's the game you have been playing ever since the Archerons joined the inner circle. You love them all, honestly. Thier different personalities was the first thing that drew you to them. You admir all three of them but the one thing you hate is how you got left alone after their involvement to your life.

Before them, you all relied on all of you for company and support. Now, everybody has their own person.

Rhysand has Feyre, Cassian has Nesta, Azriel has Elain, and Mor and Amren have found thier partners too but in case they aren't present, Mor and Amren, as crazy as it sounds, rely on each other. Just like that, everybody has a person to go home to, to come back safely for, to turn to for comfort.

You don't have anyone.

You hate going home because your bed is always empty. You hate going on missions because you know no one would be worrying about you every minute you gone. You hate celebrations because you have no one to dance with, to drink with, to end the day with.

You love family dinners. Even though you never get a chance to speak, even though you never talk to anyone, even though no one notices your presence. You love family dinners and meetings because it's the only time youre not alone.

It's doesn't matter if you're lonely, at least you aren't alone.

But in the game you're playing with yourself, after a while, you get too tired to challenge back with same force. You don't push back the mean thoughts your mind throws at you as insults. You listen to them, compare them to your situation and realise, you've been trying to win for nothing.

You slowly stop trying to protect yourself all together.

The first time you didn't go to a family dinner, you thought you would regret it later but you didn't, instead you felt glad that you didn't go because no one had come to get you, no one came to ask why you didn't show, no one cared about you enough to think why you didn't go.

So you stopped going at all.

You stopped doing everything with you 'family' and prefered being left alone.

You only met them when you had a mission together or anything related to work.

Just like that, today you had gone to one of the Illyrian camps at Rhys orders. He got report saying things haven't been going as they should there and wanted you to go check. But on your way back you had been ambushed by a group of six men wanting to kill you in the camp, they couldn't of course but you did come out of the fight with a large sward wound on your left side.

All you wanted to do was go home, rest, tend to your wound and sleep. You can give the report to Rhys tomorrow.

You let out a grunt and step in your house, immediately tense seeing a shadow of a person move the dark room. Your hand placing itself in your dagger straped to your thigh, you other hand on the left side of your waist pressing on your wound.

"Relax, it's just me." A familiar voice fills the silence as the fae lights turn on and Rhysands face becomes visible. You sigh in relief and furrow your eyebrows,"What you doing so late in my house?" You nearly snap, but hold back as respect for your high lord.

"You came late you were suppose to be here two hours ago." For minute it feels like he cares for you, and you allow yourself to believe that he was worried for you but you fantasy shatters the second he opens his mouth again. "You were supposed to deliver your report two hours ago. You know how important this is, I have other things to do too." His voice sharp as he scolds you.

"You're right, I'm sorry. I got attacked while leaving, it took time to fight them of. It was six against one but well I managed to survive, eh?" Rhysand's scowl deepens. "Tell me what happened there now."

Your eyes closs for a second whem you feel dizzy. "Look, how about you give me ten minutes to freshen up, and I also have a wound to–," You try to say but he cuts you off saying,"I don't have more time. Tell me right now what happened so I can get started on fixing things, then you can have all the time to fresh up as you want. My office, now." He doesn't leave much to room to argue and winnows you to his office.

You sigh and start speaking, repeating everything you noticed in the camp as Rhysand listens and writes down the report. Near the end, you feel another wave of dizziness hit you and put your head down to rest it against the backrest of your chair and groan when you feel pain shoot up from your injury from the movement.

Rhysand finally notices the source of your pain and his eyes flare,"You're hurt?" You scoff. "Yes. That's what I was trying to tell you before you winnowed us here."

"I didnt notice it. I'm sorry, you should go tend to it." He quickly dismisses you, finally letting you go back to your house.

As you look at yourself in the mirror, thinking how filthy and hideous you seem, you grit your teeth. Of course no one notices you. Look at you. You are ugly and filled with dirt and scars all over your body.

How could anyone look at you when you can't even look at yourself.

Your gaze falls to your wound, the big cut that spread from under you left breast to the start of your thigh. If was deep enough to bleed you dry.

Would anyone even notice if you did? If you don't heal and let the injury bleed you dead. Would anyone know that you were gone? That your body layed unmoving in the bathroom floor. How long would it take for someone to find you? Who would find you? Probably Rhysand when he needs you for his next mission.

You eye your dagger that you unshielded on your way in the bathroom. How long would it take for you to bleed out? Hours? Days? You didn't want that. That was too much. You don't think you can handle that much pain constantly. Maybe if you took that dagger and deepen your cut, you would bleed out faster. Maybe you would have a faster death. Sure it would hurt but at least you would be gone before someone found you.

You would be free. Free of the loneliness. Free of the feeling like you were a burden in everyone's life. Free of wanting Someone to care for you the way you see everyone else care for their loved ones. You would finally be at peace.

You gasp and blink out the terrible thoughts. Breathing heavy, you search for the cotton and Healing cream in the cupboards. You groan out with you don't find any of them.

You turn back to the mirror. Maybe your brain is right. Maybe this is a sign from Mother herself telling you to not let the wound heal and die right here, right now. Your gaze finds the knife again, eyeing the sharp edge. Would it really be that bad?

Your hand grips the handle of the dagger, bringing it closer to the cut. You let the cold mettle edge scrap the skin, an inch afar the start of the cut. The sharp edge slicing through skin like paper, leaving a line of crimson red blood, seeping out of the newly cut skin.

Your eyes widen as you observe yourself, keeping the knife near the cut but not touching it entirely.

It's... mesmerizing. The way blood slowly comes out of the skin, the small and steady lines created by your dagger are engrossing. And the pain, the pain is hypnotizing, slowing raising to the rest of your body. Your body feels electrified, there's snips of pain tingling through out your entire body, your ears buzzing with excitement. Your hands are shaking and eyes bluring but all you can focus on is how much you want to do this again. Feel your skin open beneath you knife again. Feel the pain that slowing raises with each extra inch of cut.

Oh gods. What have you done?

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[thetomorrowshow]

Whumptober 21 - Secrets Revealed (alt prompt)

title: movies

fandom: empires smp

part of esh au :)

cw: discussion of past suicide attempts

~

Maybe Scott shouldn't have chosen Heathers.

But somehow, in his long life of being queer, Jimmy hadn't ever seen it.

"You're literally bisexual and you haven't seen it?" Scott had asked, astonished. At Jimmy's nod, he added, "It's the most bi movie ever. And I could sing the musical all day, too, but musicals based on movies are always better than the movies based on musicals—"

"What's so important about it?" Jimmy had interjected, one brow raised, and Scott couldn't help but feel a flurry of pride at how much Jimmy had opened up over the past months.

"You'll just have to watch it and see," Scott told him, so here they are, three days later, Scott on his end of the sofa and Jimmy on the other, a bowl of popcorn (that Jimmy rarely takes from) between them.

It's not a date, Scott reminds himself repeatedly. It's just a movie night between him and his ward. No, a movie night between him and his friend. Jimmy holds no romantic feelings for him. And he doesn't have any for Jimmy.

Lies.

But they're watching, volume lower than what Scott would normally watch a movie with (loud noises make Jimmy jump, and subtitles are readily available), and Jimmy seems to be enjoying it. He lets out a little laugh at all the right places, and rolls his eyes at the outdated references, and loosens up a bit as the movie goes on.

Until the one scene.

The part that Scott didn't even think about, more worried about the other dark tones of the movie.

Where Veronica fakes her own suicide.

Before Scott even registers that he got up, Jimmy is out of the room, in the kitchen, turning on the lights and starting the sink running.

Scott pauses the movie, something sinking in his stomach. "Jimmy?" he calls tentatively. "Are you all right?"

No response.

What was that about Jimmy being his ward?

It's getting easier and easier to forget that Jimmy isn't just his roommate, but someone he is charged by the state to take care of.

Scott uncurls his legs from the couch and gets up to head into the kitchen, letting his feet fall harder than normal to let Jimmy know that he's coming.

Jimmy's standing over the sink, scrubbing hard at a bowl, head down. After a quick, splashing rinse, he sets it in the dish drainer and reaches for a plate.

"Not that I mind that you're doing dishes," Scott says drily, "but why? What happened?"

Jimmy doesn't say anything, his scrubbing motions becoming jerkier.

"Was it the movie?" Scott tries. "I honestly didn't think—"

"Can you leave?" Jimmy asks suddenly, before cringing. "No, sorry, I didn't mean that, sorry."

The panicked apologies send Scott into caretaker mode, whether he likes it or not. "Are you having a flashback? It's okay, you're not there—"

"No, I'm—Scott, I'm fine," Jimmy insists, hunching further over the sink. "Please—please don't worry. You can—you can go finish the movie, okay? I'll just wash up here and go to bed early."

Scott almost agrees. He doesn't want to make Jimmy upset. He wants everything to be right for him.

And then he remembers that he isn't just Jimmy's friend. He's his caretaker, and he has to make sure that Jimmy is safe and mentally well.

"Okay," he says carefully. "But I'm scheduling you a therapy appointment for tomorrow."

"What? No, I'm already seeing Nora on Thursday—"

"The trigger was bad enough that you're having to clean to distract yourself," Scott points out. "I know what it looks like when you're trying to fight a flashback, Jimmy. If you really want me to leave, I will, as long as you go to therapy tomorrow. "

Jimmy doesn't answer for a long time, washing another bowl with even more aggressive scrubbing. He rinses it, sets it aside, and turns off the sink, squeezing out the dishrag.

"I tried to kill myself," he says bluntly, turning around and leaning on the counter. "While I was . . . there. I was gonna hang myself on my own leash, okay? Is that what you wanted to hear?"

"I—" Scott feels himself blanch, as hard as he tries to keep a straight face.

"And I tried to kill myself a bunch of times after you got me out, just so you know. If it wasn't for people messing around, I would've succeeded. Does that make you happy?"

"Jimmy—"

"Because it sure didn't make the crazy doctors happy!" Jimmy's crying, now, just a little bit, eyes wet and red, even as he laughs. "I have to be on drugs to be normal! Just because I was a stupid, suicidal pet!"

Jimmy isn't looking at him anymore. His eyes are fixed on a spot slightly to the left of Scott, as if looking him in the eyes will make all the precarious emotions spill over in a tidal wave.

"It was—what do you call it, premeditated?" Jimmy says. "I decided—when I woke up—I was gonna twist my leash around the doorknob of my cell and the hook, and I was gonna hang myself. But they took away the leash—and they strapped me to the hospital bed so I couldn't get any scalpels—and they drugged me up real bad—"

"Jimmy—"

"What kind of person needs drugs to not kill themself—?"

"Me," Scott says loudly, and Jimmy cuts off mid-sentence, eyes focusing on his face.

"What?"

Scott leans against the wall, crosses his arms. "Me," he says again. "I'm on antidepressants, too. When I was eighteen, I . . . made an attempt on my own life. Aeor saved me. I've been on medication and going to therapy ever since."

"I'm sorry," Jimmy mumbles after a pause, the frenetic energy seeming to drain out of him with the two words.

"It's okay," Scott says, and he feels like he's about to cry, like those few sentences have rubbed his soul raw, but he's going to stay strong for Jimmy. "It was a while ago, I don't mind talking about it. But I have depression, due to some . . . stuff, and I didn't see a future that I wanted to be a part of. So, I'm sorry that you went through that, Jimmy. But I don't want you to think that needing medication means you're somehow less of a person."

"Sorry," Jimmy says again. "I—I didn't know."

Scott shrugs. "You didn't. It's not really something that comes up naturally in conversation, you know. But medication isn't a bad thing, okay? If it helps you to survive . . . well, that's good."

Jimmy chews on his lip, turns his gaze to the tiled kitchen floor. "I'm just . . . I'm tired of being messed up in the head."

There's not really a cure for that, though.

As infuriating as it is, mental illness isn't like a cut to be stitched up and bandaged. It isn't a pulled muscle that can be healed with an ice pack and a little rest. Mental illness is a cancerous tumor writhing inside the brain, and the excising is painful and exhausting and almost certainly doesn't get all of it out.

"I know it's hard," says Scott. "I don't know how hard, but I know it is. And you've still made an incredible amount of progress."

Jimmy shrugs. "Maybe. I . . . I wish I didn't have to."

Scott doesn't know what to say.

So he just offers a sympathetic smile and waits.

It's cruel. It's cruel that Jimmy was ever pushed to such lengths, that he ever felt so hopeless.

Scott knows it's cruel.

He knows that it hurts to look back, to remember oneself in such a dark place, swallowed up in the pain.

At least he has a few years' difference. Jimmy's still at the place Scott was when he was nineteen.

What would Aeor do when nineteen-year-old Scott would lash out, angry and tired?

The answer comes quicker than Scott expects.

Aeor would send him to bed.

"Well, I'm ready to go to sleep," Scott says, not quite having to fake a yawn. “We can take care of these dishes tomorrow, yeah? Let’s take the rest of the evening off.”

“But—”

“Nah, leave ‘em.”

“The movie?”

Scott shrugs. “I’ve seen it before,” he says nonchalantly. “And we can watch something else next time. Maybe Lord of the Rings.”

Jimmy makes a face.

“Don’t tell me you don’t like them.”

“I—they’re just so long,” Jimmy protests. “I don’t have time for a three hour movie.”

“That’s not the important part, what matters is that they’re a classic.”

“They’re boring.” “Clearly, you haven’t been watching them right.”

“I’ll lock myself in my room again. Don’t think I won’t.”

“You would never.”

“I would! And I will!”

[elisedonut]

I've been so freaking obsessed with Evan Rosier/Percy Weasley time travel fic.

Starts out as a Voldemort wins AU and Percy time travels to the past, ends up about 16/17 and back in Hogwarts, sorted into Slytherin, he doesn't know shit about Voldemort or how to prevent the war, so he does the only logical thing he can. Becomes a better alternative to Voldemort. Yup, straight up Percy Weasley cult, yes I'm doing that :P

It takes a while, but most of the other students are more or less on board, except Evan Rosier. He's hanging around because his friends are all enamoured, but he's suspicious, he doesn't trust Percy. Percy thinks he's hot c: Evans emotionally constipated self thinks Percy is hot too :p but very sus and he doesn't trust easy

So basically Percy has to change the future by forcing the Hogwarts population into therapy, becoming a sort of accidental cult leader, joining the pta and uniting with parents in ways that change actually happens even if they don't like some things he says, changing some of the dumb things the teachers do, changing the gryffindor bias, promoting interhouse unity and all that fun stuff :D

Yk like litte things that change everything

His and Evans dynamic is kinda like

Evan: *shaking the front of Percy's robes* I don't know who the fuck you are, or what you're playing at but I'm going easy on you because my friends like you. But you so much as stub their toe, you are dead, do you hear me?

Percy: That's nice, mind the robes will you? They're new. Unlike some people I can't afford buying new ones for every idiot who randomly decides to assault me.

Evan: You kissed Mulciber?

Percy: What of it

Evan: No- I just- Mulciber? He's probably got some- I don't know, infectious disease!

Percy: If I didn't know better I'd think you wanted to kiss me.

Evan: *spluttering*

Evan: Why were you hanging around with Snape

Percy: *flipping page of his book* We were discussing the importance of media literacy in charged political climates

Evan: *darkly* Of course you were.

Percy: Is there a problem?

Barty: *popping up out of nowhere with a suggestive eyebrow wiggle at Evan* Yeah, why are you bothering him Evan, it's like your obsessed :)

Evan: I am not obsessed! I just- I- I just think maybe his lordship shouldn't leave everyone out of interesting discussions!

Barty: Seriously.

Percy: Actually, that's a good point Rosier. Thank you for pointing that out. How about tomorrow we properly launch debate club! I'll go ask professor Slughorn, Rosier will you assist me?

Evan: *dying inside* Whatever. I don't have anything else that I'm doing so like- yeah

Evan doesn't know why the fuck Percy is crying but he gets it. He gets what it's like and he doesn't trust him, can't trust him, can't make that shrivelled little thing inside him reach out and accept someone new, but he can understand. And he holds him. And Percy cries into his jumper until he's asleep and then Evan tells himself he should go, he shouldn't be here, it feels so wrong to see this boy so vulnerable and trusting but he stays and in the morning they don't talk about it. In the morning Avery fawns a little as he pours milk in Percy's cereal and he sneers just the same as usual, a hufflepuff asks for Percy's thoughts on rock music and he scoffs and rolls his eyes the same as usual but he finds himself checking if Percy actually eats the food they give him, seeing the dark circles under the redheads eyes, seeing the smudged and filled up schedule he keeps worrying over

ASDFGHJKL I CAN'T GET OVER THEM PLS

oh sounds neat

ngl I don't really know anything about Evan because I'm not a Marauder girlie like at all

Death Eaters are honestly my least favorite people to pair with Percy personally and there's not many that I do actively like

so i don't tend to pay them much attention unless i find them interesting for some other reason

because as anyone who's been here long enough can probably tell i have a hard time caring about characters unless i can tie them back to Percy in some way or another

but regardless yeah Percy and Time travel are two of my favorite fic genres so i could see the appeal

Percy trying to start a cult himself is very funny though

like at this point he just doesn't know what else to try so he's just kind of like fuck it i guess ill try this

it is neat because Evan's the only one seemingly suspicious and in a way his suspicions are right like Percy is 100% up to something its just that the something isn't actually a bad thing really

Also your writing him so jealous thats always fun

[nonuggetshere]

Lullaby time travel au?? Please, do tell 👀

I. ALMOST MISSED THIS

I am Super exhausted now so I'll give a basic bare bones rundown and elaborate tomorrow (if I remember)

Lullaby, at the ripe age of 10 (or less), gets lost while playing with their siblings and by whatever spacetime mumbo jumbo ends up back in time when Flower was the Pure Vessel. They ran back to the palace a bit distressed but then saw their mama standing guard and ran up to them relieved. But then they wouldn't reply to her, wouldn't even acknowledge her, wouldn't *look* at her, and it all left poor Lu in so much distress. Pale King heard the commotion and came over, only for this child he's never seen before to come running over calling him grandpa and talking about how mama (the vessel) won't talk to them.

Nobody believes Lu when she tells the truth. Why would they? They don't remember anything that Lu is claiming and the vessel is far too young to be their parent. However, PK still plays along and takes care of them because otherwise the poor kid is near catatonic with despair. Since the presence of the vessel seems to calm it down, he sends the kid to sleep in the Pure Vessel's room until he prepares a room for it. Lullaby is going to be taken care of until he figures out what's wrong and finds their real parents, but the fact that everybody seems to have forgotten them and it's all so different is going to take a hard toll on poor Lu.

Once they're in the room together Flower finally breaks the character and talks to them and Lullaby is SO angry at them, damn near inconsolable as they hit them and scream at them. Flower eventually manages to calm them down and takes them on their lap, they honestly don't know what to do. They believe Lullaby, and they tell them as much, but they have no idea how it could be true. They have their dead twin's name and look like them and Lummis, but Flower is barely 20 and been dating Their partners for no longer than a year and a half. It just doesn't make sense, but they can't even tell their father this or they'll be outed.

It also doesn't really hit Lullaby what is happening until they meet their aunt Hornet who is so much younger here, obviously. And they just break down nearly on the spot.

This AU mostly consists of Lullaby interacting with the past versions of people they knew and finding out their family's history in the worst, most traumatising way possible ✌️ Flower is actually outed before the accolade in this version thanks to Lu fucking with the timeline (it doesn't change the future, it just created a brand new timeline the moment Lu made contact with PV and PK in this world) and it ends in a gigantic screaming fight between PK and them, which only terrifies and scars Lullaby further

When they return it takes a long, long time for them to heal. They have problems with unreality, PK and WL pretty much had to move back into the castle for a bit bc if Lu wasn't around them and their mama they'd be an anxious wreck, and they developed a routine where Ammi and Ivy Jr would circle the palace with them every morning before breakfast to reassure them they're home. They got better with therapy but they're never quite the same, they can't even handle hearing Flower and PK friendly bickering anymore because it brings back bad memories so the two don't do it with Lu around. They also hate with burning passion when people don't believe them. Thankfully their family did believe the whole time thing, since they knew things they absolutely shouldn't have.

Also some time later past PK and Flower experience a similar event and end up in Lullaby's time. For them it's been just a few months if not less, so their relationship is still tense and awful, while for Lullaby and her family it's been 3 years. Lu absolutely does not have a good time when she (and Ammi + Ivy) finds these two and drags them back to her mama, absolutely avoid them like wildfire for a good while after.

Thankfully they stumbled onto Beezley who managed to break the news to Flower way gentler than the three musketeers would be able to. Future Flower has a whole kingdom to run and now THIS.

[icy-watch]

Ok, Wojira is real.

Didn't really doubt that she was, but at least she's still asleep. The only problem is: Not for long.

Something's going to happen and she's going to wake up. And it's going to cause Problems. But that's problems for the next season.

So, Scooby-Doo inspired hijinks. It sucks that Ronin fell to capitalism. I'm not surprised, but I am disappointed. He's so much better than that. Him and Clutch took big hits this season.

A couple of people have mentioned that the next season is Seabound. I think I'm going to make some predictions on what that means tomorrow when I watch the first episode. I'm getting a little too eepy rn.

I'm going to quickly do my correct and incorrect predictions here, and call it a day.

I'm only going to do 1 episode tomorrow. I know myself by now. So until then!

Correct and incorrect predictions are under the cut.

Correct

Tim clearly knows more about the island than he's telling the ninja. He did, and I feel so bad for this guy. Trauma, y'all. It really messes with you.

The thing in the fog is not Wojira. Y'all, if I honestly was just bingeing this show, I doubt I would have noticed the jaw moving weird and the sounds the boat was making. I might have thought something was off with the fireballs, but do this is only making me more observant.

Incorrect

Adventure Team was captured because they were trespassing or getting too close to Something. It was thought that they were there to steal the amulet. Which, Clutch was planning on it after he saw it. Maybe before.

Rescue Team has a Scooby-Doo vibe. The "monster" reveal is going to be an actual monster, not some dude in a mask trying to make money from ghost hunters or drive the native people away or something along those lines. Well. I guess I was very wrong about this one.

Wojira is going to be awoken this season. She was not. I'm surprised her eyes didn't snap open in that last shot of her.

Jay (with Nya) will awaken Wojira somehow.

Partially

The ninja are going to be split up at some point. Half of the group are going to be captured. They did split up, twice! The first time Lloyd split from the group, and the second Jay split from the group. But not half of them.

Lloyd and Tim's plot this season (with maybe Zippy) is to rescue the others. That was Lloyd's plot (with the help of Zippy). Tim's was to work around his past trauma thru exposure therapy.

Unconfirmed

The storm and the statues are connected somehow. I was going to put this in correct or partially, but there was never really a solid yes or no to this. There was some connection to the Keepers/Islanders and the statues, but not really with the storm.

Wojira is likely to be the main antagonist for s14. Well, we don't know that yet, so 🤷

[eroaneki]

I'm still so scared by what happened to me earlier this month. I feel like I had a legit mental breakdown. I still feel extremely raw and vulnerable and constantly on the edge of a panic attack, but I think that's more so because I'm afraid of not being able to control how I feel. Like that I feel completely out of control.

I literally triggered myself into a mental breakdown by drinking cold brew on an empty stomach. Like out of fucking no where had a massive injection of liquid caffeine directly into my bloodstream. And I was also coming off of weed. And it was... 3 days before my period. I think all of that combined with is what really sent me over the edge. I'm usually smarter about tapering myself off but I also have never had a 7 month period where I used daily. I think my longest has been like 2 months in the past. This has been basically daily use since like, January.

I've taken half of a 5mg edible twice in the last like 3 weeks because honestly I'm so fucking spooked I'm gonna end up going insane or something. I know it's unlikely. But man I miss the creativity weed gives me. My head isn't as loud anymore and quite honestly I feel "normal" I guess. Whatever my normal was when I was using daily. So I guess that means I've leveled out? But my heart keeps skipping throughout the day and it freaks me out and I hate it and I've already had everything ruled out by the cardiologist so it just is what it is I guess. I'm fine according to them.

Idk existence is scary as fuck. But I guess you have to have bigger balls than life and that's how you win. Just growing those balls into a massive force takes so much time and effort and "do it scared" mentality. I understand why people scream when they do things that scares them. It pushes them forward. Gives them the strength to do it.

Also side note, I hate adrenaline? I run so high in the morning and I know it's my body trying to wake me up but could you not? Can you be more gentle about it? Also life without coffee is fucking ROUGH. My heart pounds too fast when I drink it and quite honestly I don't need the extra stimulation in the morning so I've switched to tea, but occasionally I'll pour myself like 2-4 oz of coffee and sip slowly on that. Usually on the days I'm home.

God I feel like I have no idea how to survive as a person sometimes. I just feel like I'm walking blind. It sucks. Really badly. But I'm okay for the most part now. I still get a little shaky driving but again, I just think I'm scared I'm gonna freak out again while driving. I'm so scared of what happened to me that I'm trying every which way I can to avoid it happening again. It's rough. Rough rough rough but for the most part I'm fine.

My outlook is mostly positive and I feel more of my piss and vinegar self coming back, which is nice. But yeah. Still definitely licking my wounds and a little worried about my period coming up this month. But I have my emergency lavender and Xanax and sweet smelling body scrubs and ice pack and everything else I use to help calm anxiety lol

I also have a really good support group and I started therapy, though I did have to cancel my appointment for tomorrow because my new insurance doesn't kick in until 8/1. Annoying but I know it's not the end of me ever going to therapy ever again. Just have to wait probably another week 🙃

[simplepotatofarmer]

I hope I'm not offending you with this question, I'm curious about prison abolishment, and I'm really interested in it but I can't fully get into the idea. I honestly do not think a lot of crimes should be punishable by locking them away and forgetting about them. I always get annoyed that many people has it drilled into them that a person has to do time to 'redeem themselves' even when they've already changed at heart, and it bleeds out into fiction a lot.

But what if people who hurt others decide to continue what they're doing? What if someone was being stalked by someone dangerous, who has already repeatedly threatened them or their loved ones harm? Especially kids. Shouldn't they be locked up to keep from harming the victim(s)? I know we should expect everyone to be capable of doing better, but some people may choose to go back to hurting because it feels too good to stop.

If prison conditions were much better, like the ones in Norway or Finland, would that be a better compromise? Therapy would be given too.

i think the biggest thing about prison abolition to remember is, we can't do it with the way society is currently.

like, when i say that i want prisons abolished, i don't mean, 'if i could snap my fingers and tomorrow there would be no prisons' because there's a lot that needs to be changed as well.

if we start from the ground, we need to fix things like food scarcity, homelessness, education, and health care. if we don't fix those things, there's no hope for prison abolition to work.

and on that same vein, if we don't begin to treat children like people and give them more rights and protect them better, then it doesn't matter if we have prisons or not. because prisons may protect more people from getting hurt (and really, it rarely does, look at how many child sex offenders get out after just a little bit) but it doesn't stop people from being hurt.

so what prison abolition seeks to do, is figure out ways to stop that hurt from being done in the first place. and it's not gonna be perfect, it's not gonna be easy. but if we start taking things more seriously (like actually protecting kids and treating them like real people or taking stalking and threats as well, things to stop) and if we make the world better and we apply things like therapy and medication when needed, it'll start working.

like, we know all these warning signs, y'know? and currently, the police and society will see them and go 'well nothing we can do until they hurt someone!' and then they go to prison (maybe!!!).

people are being hurt and we're doing nothing until after the fact.

the point of prison abolition is to take down the whole system and start addressing these problems at the root cause, try to stop people from being hurt by taking these signs seriously and by offering resources and treatment before hand. it's not gonna be perfect, people are always going to get hurt. i just think maybe there's a better way, y'know?

[fernsandsunflowers]

Naming your Neurodiversity

I don't know if this will help anyone, but I want to tell you about Agatha.

A friend told me about their new trick to managing their depression that's been helping them a lot. They named their depression. I immediately loved the idea, and I had barely formed the thought "what would I name my ADHD" that the name Agatha fell in perfect place in my mind and there she was. Wild, feral and romantic.

I know techniques aren't universal but I never anticipated then how much naming her would help me, so I wanted to share it here in case it would help someone else.

Getting know Agatha, who she is, what she likes, what motivates her, has helped me be so much kinder to myself and just love myself. I used to curse and yell and scream at myself for my inability to function, but how can I treat Agatha that way? She wants to be wild and free, and run around and paint and make random things and rearrange the kitchen cupboard and eat funny tasting food. She loves stories and philosophizing and she wants to find out how things work and how words became words and what that specific plant she saw a week ago is called ("just describe what it looks like on google and if you don't do it right now I will absolutely die" - she's dramatic like that). She wants to go days researching a random thought she had while I was trying write my paper because "wouldn't that be so cool? and it's totally relevant to this paper, I'm sure of it". She wants to storm and rage at the world and revels in plotting petty revenges just for the fun of it. and she's constantly singing though she always forgets the words.

How can I be cruel to her? She's amazing and honestly such a great fucking time. So we hangout a lot now. We paint and philosophize and we start writing stories never to be completed, and order desserts and buy random shit online together. Everyday in my mind, I'm figuring out her personality -- I was talking to another friend a few days ago and we were talking about anxiety and depression and figuring out if these states are the symptoms of adhd or separate to it, at any given moment. And I realized my anxiety was not related to Agatha... anxious is not her.

I'm just doing so much better. I'm not tired and angry and sad all the time. When I spend a whole day getting nothing that needed to get done done, I'm not screaming at myself I just say, 'it's ok, Agatha, we'll try again tomorrow." When I'm completely paralyzed and I want to punch a wall again and again and again, I see Agatha in my mind curled up and crying because she's just having a bad day and she's overwhelmed and her whole body feels like it's being pulled by a hundred horses in hundred different directions - so I just sit down next to her and keep her company until it passes. In the long run, I don't really know if this will help me be more productive or be more functional. I'm working on how we can find a good balance. Agatha just has a different idea of productive and functional, I guess, and that's OK - maybe in the future we can come to a compromise, or maybe we can finally and finally find something where compromise isn't necessary at all. Especially now that I know her, maybe together we can figure out what that latter something is.

All I know is or what I've come to realize through all this is that I don't actually want to tie her up and lock her away - I don't want to compromise her. The world isn't her fault. We just gotta find a way to be that let's her be free.

This is all probably related to the defusion technique I was told about years ago in therapy, and 'would you say those things to a friend' and inner child healing and all the stuff that Inside Out was based on - I don't really know and I don't necessarily want to know the science behind the Magic. I want to let Agatha become whoever she wants to without adding technique to it you know? Which is honestly very in-character for her. Agatha, hates being told what to do and how to do things.

As always didn't intend for this to be this long, but no longer apologizing! I wish for you all to find your Agatha, and when you do, if you want to, tell me about them.

[ray-talks]

8/9/2023

honestly, this week has been a mess.

the only day i restricted as much as i would have liked has been monday. i went to the theatre with my sibling and my friend -- of course, this means we have to get food. so i ate more than i would have liked, which brought me to dinner. i felt that i had already ruined my day, so i may as well eat more. this is obviously a terrible notion, one that invites binge eating. so mentally at this point, i am kicking myself. the next two days, i will restrict much as possible, and if something interrupts that, i may very well lose it.

god knows if i've gained weight. i am quite irritated with myself. i didn't get to go on a walk, because of the movie being midday, so that's also a bust. tomorrow, i set the intention to walk 13km and finish the rest of my book. if i don't do that, i am so fucked. i can do nothing but stew in my own self-pity, unless i simply decide to continue regardless. which i will do. i have time to restrict, especially when i get to college, and all i have to do is be patient. if i don't keep this mindset of being patient, i'll explode into a thousands of little pieces.

i also have therapy tomorrow. i'll see if there is any updates on my adhd assessment, but it may have to wait until later. all that's left is my therapist to file a report on what she thinks -- whether or not i have it. again, i don't have anything particularly in mind, i wouldn't be surprised if i did or did not have it. if not, it would suggest that my symptoms may be from something else, probably the mixture of autism and depression.

additionally, i had a lot of dysmorphia from my legs today. my arms look thin (not as thin as i want but acceptable), but my legs are where a lot of my fat lays. i saw myself in the picture and felt disgusted by what i saw. my thighs and calves, in particular. i look stupid. i know i am not attractive, and i don't expect being skinner to make me more attractive. however, i dislike the presence of fat on my body. i hate the female shape it gives me, and how it makes me look. i hate my feminine hips, thick thighs, and general curves. it is utterly bothersome. i promise that in a few months this will all change.

i watched barbie today. it was pleasant and fun -- i enjoyed it, regardless of my circumstances. i feel like i've been on a movie kick, as of late. nevertheless, i wish to say that anyone who reads this, i hope they have a good day.

[lizbwitch]

Diary Entry #19

Can I wake up already from this nightmare? I want to redo the entire week, if I can. I hate this feeling of abandonment. I want to believe nothing that has happened this week has been real. It's been absolutely terryifing finding out I've been left alone in my moment of crisis. I refuse to believe any of this it's been real. Like, holy fucking shit I fucked up so badly is unreal.

I want to wake up, covered in sweat, realiazing that I had one of the worst weeks in my life and that none of this ever happened. That the writers of my life really fucked up this week's stories and that the new writers are coming up tomorrow with new and fresh ideas to improve my situation. They're doing the good ol' "it was all a dream" and this week never happened at all.

Wouldn't that be great?

Now, I'm feeling dread at what's coming next: finals. I'm facing off once again against my school, trying to save whatever I can of my career before I leave it for good. My final stand against the inevitable. God, please don't forget me this week. I don't know how much punches I can take anymore. If next week goes completly awful, I want everyone to know that I tried so fucking hard. And that despite my cries for help have been answered, The Big Great Absolute Solution wasn't found in time.

I looked for therapy and meds. And it wasn't enough.

My family got involved. And it wasn't enough.

I tried living my life honestly without keeping secrets from anyone. And it wasn't enough.

I kept my mind occupied in things I was interested in. And it wasn't enough.

I found my absolute passion for music. And it wasn't enough.

I tried to not bother anyone with my problems. And it wasn't enough.

I tried moving on from my old life. And it wasn't enough.

I tried making new acquiantances. And it wasn't enough.

I was kind with myself when something went right. And it wasn't enough.

I gave everyone the space they needed to decide what to do with me. And it wasn't enough.

I told myself that crying was okay when it was needed and that there was no shame in doing it. And still it wasn't enough.

One day at the time, until the end.

I don't know when my final moments will be. All I know is that I'm desperate. And with a blade in my hand making small cuts in my arm I finish this entry.

The painless robot desperate for a change in her life befor the end, Lizz.

[izzysarchivedblogs]

He tilts his head up, eyes trained on Tony when he mimics his tone of voice. Clint thinks that they were doing this talking thing well, even if Kate took all the talking out of him and he had opened up a lot more to her than he had in the entire week of being here. There had been some fighting, some not pleasant truths that the both of of them had to face. Facts about themselves, and he was talked out.

Yet here they were, talking more because Clint does want to exercise proof of his independence (which is a complicated and point of contention that he and Kate had argued at great lengths with). ❝ I should stick to my word, and I was good to go alone earlier. I'm all talked out, but should be able to manage. It ⸺ she left me with a lot to think about and I... she said she'd text me and coffee this weekend, so. . . I'm more tired. ❞ HE DEFINITLY MIGHT CRY AGAIN, but that's probably more an effect of being tired as well than anything else.

He honestly doesn't think he'll process all of this until a few days down the line, or perhaps at therapy tomorrow. He, also, had a community service thing tomorrow at a shelter, cleaning and dishes, as he needed to get on his weekly hours. There may be a little bit of this that is Clint determined to prove himself, but wasn't that also just doing the work?

Clint doesn't quite know how to explain what he was feeling about Kate. It happened, it was a lot for many hours, and than she went home instead of staying for dinner. Clint didn't quite know what to make of it. ❝ I don't know. It's fine, take a night off. I'm good. ❞

BUY BRANDY A PUPPY. Clint could imagine how that'd go, and Tony's right it was the cutest damn thing. HOPEFULLY KATE DOES'T CHANGE HER MIND AFTER HEARING EVERYTHING TODAY. Clint smiles looking at the videos, and he definitely wishes that he could have witnessed them.

❝ It's adorable, Luck's a good pup like that. ❞ He had no doubt that the mutt would be good with a baby. Clint Definitely wished he had gotten more time with the dog, but the big stuff with Kate first. HOW DID THAT ACTUALLY GO?

SNORT. ❝ Aw, babe and we're making out sauce and meatball. It's not just boxed pasta. ❞ He teases, but that was simple enough as it was. Their own meatballs wasn't hard, it was added extra stuff like their own seasoning than rolling ground meat into a ball. Not hard. It's not just gonna be sticking pasta in a pot and canned jar of sauce.

Tony's eyes flick up and down Clint because now he's not sure if he completely misunderstood what Clint was saying before, or if Clint was trying to talk him out of going because he's feeling guilty about Brandy being dragged around.

"Clint," he said, mimicking Clint's serious tone. "I had assumed today you were going to go alone. You started the day very positive. But you've been hit with a lot. So you tell me what you want me to do. Don't feel guilty about it either way. Brandy will be fine in the stroller if I come. We'll both be fine staying here. I want to support you and I'll do whatever thing you think will support you the best."

He meant it. If Clint thinks the meeting is too hard, or he's considering going to a bar instead, Tony's going. No questions asked. But if he needed the space, he could have it.

Tony's smiling again just hearing the sound of Brandy's giggling and Lucky's barks from his phone on the other side of the table. He would probably watch that video on a loop when he was having low days. "It's so good right? Oh my god, Clint. They were so adorable. I need to buy her a puppy because that was the cutest damned thing I've seen in my entire life."

Tony doesn't miss the babe. Clint punches down on it in a way that almost borderlines sarcasm and for a second he wondered if he'd done something wrong. Looking at Clint he can see he's trying out a pet name and seeing how it lands. The realization makes him feel warm inside, like a coal has been dropped into him and was heating him from the inside out. It's not even the pet name. Babe was fine. He used it from time to time himself, but it never quite felt right when he did. But the fact Clint's trying it out means that even if Tony hadn't been fully forgiven for buying the building and then lying about it, he would be. It definitely wasn't breaking them up. He reaches over the table and takes Clint's hand. "I am looking forward to my first cooking lesson, Cupid. So we're starting with spaghetti? Just boxed pasta?"

[madmaryholiday]

i wanted to have my two weeks' notice in tomorrow, but i guess that's not happening, since the worker's comp stuff still hasn't been sorted.

honestly, i'm terrified to quit my job. mostly terrified that i won't ever be able to find another job with as much flexibility that i can physically/mentally do. and i'm also terrified of change, and i've been in this job almost eight and a half years, so i'm comfortable here, and--

my parents aren't helping. they clearly want me to push through this and wait for things to settle down. i don't know how to make them understand that i don't WANT to quit my job.

i think i HAVE to quit my job. for the sake of my health.

and maybe i can wait until the end of the year. or at least until my birthday? but christ, i wanted to enjoy halloween this year. i wanted to not feel so AWFUL during my favorite time of the year.

and honestly i also really wanted to be out before the election. i genuinely don't know if i can handle the stress of that right now. i know that having to go to work might also help to give me something to think about besides the election, but i just.

guys i'm so fucking tired.

i'm so fucking tired i can't think.

i have therapy on friday. maybe i'll try to make some kind of plan with my therapist for quitting before the election. or after. just. some kind of plan to keep what's left of my sanity intact.

"it's gonna be stressful to not have a job, too," my parents said.

yeah, i fucking know. i'm not doing this expecting the job search to be easy. i'm doing this because i cannot function at this level of stress for much longer, and even if it takes me literal years to find another job, i know i won't be in danger of homelessness. and that my parents would do everything they could to keep me in therapy and on meds even if i lost my insurance because the county decided i wasn't looking hard enough for a new job.

i'm so scared that i won't find another job, but i'm under so much stress at work that i am willing to risk it.

i don't do this shit on impulse. i know my parents hadn't noticed how stressed i was until a couple weeks ago, but this has been a long time coming.

i'm rambling. i'm barely coherent. i can't fucking THINK.

i wanted to be out by halloween so i could get a fucking break, but i'll have to adjust my plans. this is not the end of the world, even though it feels like it. and the terrifying unknown of finding a new job is not worse than the very real damage all this stress is doing to my mind and my body. i have to remember that.

[mediciean]

UNDERESTIMATE chapter 1

"Go ahead and clock out, Esmé, I'll take care of this", Mrs Jones says, coming from behind me to grab the rag that I was using to scrub the crumbs off the counter. I smiled warmly back at her and nodded with a tired sigh escaping my nose.

No tired would be understatement. I was exhausted beyond my mind. Getting a job at a coffee shop, I had thought I would finally get my mind off things. But it seems that the faster life style of signing off coffees and baking croissants only signaled to my brain to catch up.

I pack up my little belongings in my tote bag before checking my cellphone. Thankfully it wasn't too late, the last thing I wanted was to be too tired for my first day of senior year. I state a quick goodbye to Mrs Jones before rushing to my car in the front parking lot and turning the key to the ignition.

This summer had to be the hardest time of my life. Ever since I moved in with the dad it seemed as if everything was dull and slow. That's part of the reason why I decided to get a job, but also because I was tired of hearing dad talk about getting "therapy". The last thing I needed was to talk to a shrink.

Honestly, I'm fine. I don't even think about the incident anymore, why would I need to talk about it?

"Esmé?", I hear as I walk through the front door and place my keys on the rack, "Is that you?".

"Yeah", I call back, shuffling off my coat. I hear the sounds of feet shuffling and as I lift my head I could see my step mother with her arms crossed over her chest.

"Isn't it awfully late to still be out, sweetheart?".

I resist the urge to roll my eyes, "I thought I told you not to call me that Angelica. I had a late shift". It wasn't even that late but I guess a teenager staying past 8 was taboo around this place. I walk past Angelica who let out a breath of air behind me. I found my way to the kitchen where I grabbed a cold water bottle before turning to go to my new room.

That is until I'm interrupted by my father who stood behind me with his arms crossed. I jump in surprise.

"Geez dad!".

Just like his wife, I thought to myself.

"Do you have any idea what time it is?".

"Uh", I look down at my phone, "10:45?".

"Exactly", states the darkskin man who scowls at my response, "Esmé I know you're new to this but I thought I told you not to be out when the streetlights are on".

"I wasn't trying to but my coworker left early so I took her shift. I didn't think it would be a big deal".

"A big deal? Anything can happened to you out there! You can't just stay out till the crack of dawn without letting anyone know".

The urge to roll my eyes was really dawning on me, "Well I tried to call you dad but you didn't answer".

He replies, "I thought I told you that if I'm at work to call Angelica".

"Why would I do that? It's not like she'd answer, she's too busy getting her hair and nails done", I state as I crack open the water bottle and throw the cold liquid into my mouth.

"Esmé! Watch your mouth".

"Look I'm sorry okay? It won't happen again", I groan as I move past the older man to the stairs.

"It better not! I'm expecting better from you Esmé. Remember to be up by 6 tomorrow!".

"Yeah whatever", I mumble to myself as I make it to the last step before getting to the second floor and walking to my bedroom.

He acts as if I'm a baby, like I can't take care of myself. It was so frustrating! Especially since he never treats Angelica's kids this way. Once I moved in it felt as if I was this weird situation that they're all hoping they can solve so I can get out of their hair.

I tried to clear my mind by taking a shower, washing my dyed red locs before tying them up and exfoliating my body. When I had finished and lotion my entire body, I smelled like honey and coco butter.

But even then when I lie in my freshly washed sheets and looked up at the white painted ceiling I still had that feeling. It was unexplainable. Not numb but not fulfilled either. I didn't know what it was.

By the time I dozed off it was meaningless sleep that had went and gone. I'm awoken by my loud alarm that I quickly grab and slam it on the counter to shut off.

My eyes swiftly close again to go back asleep. Until I hear a loud bang at my door.

"Esmé! Open up!".

No one but Justin. Justin is my unofficial my step brother but it wasn't like we ever talked. He stayed his way and I stayed in mine. I'm pretty sure the only time he said two words to me is when I moved in and he asked me to return his game system since my room was his old room.

So the fact that he was banging on my door at 6 in the morning was a shock.

Displeased, I grumble and wrap my body with my blanket and make my way to the door. I unlock it before flipping it open and looking up at the 18 year old teen, "Yes?".

Justin walks past me without a second thought, "Melanie is taking too long in the bathroom".

"Uh—okay", I reply bewildered by the weird interaction. Not a second later I hear my shower turn on and the sounds of ASAP Rocky fill the room.

I hate that kind of music.

"Good morning to you too!", I shout annoyed, "Jerk".

Well while he's in there I might as well get dressed. First days meant first impressions. And not just any first impressions. Good first impressions.

I'm sure everyone had heard about the incident by now, let's just say our town was small enough where words spread around fast.

I bend down and find some clothes from my suitcase. I'm not sure why I haven't unpacked everything. A part of me hopes that maybe if I keep my things away it'll be easier to take them back to my real home.

When I'm tying my shoes is when Justin returns from the bathroom, wearing an all white  shirt and baggy capris with brown Jordan's. His hair was defined and curly and he was spraying on some cologne as he walked in my room.

I ignore him, grabbing a hair tie from the drawer and tying my locs up in a half up half down style.

"I'm not a jerk", he grumbles.

"What?", I ask, turning to him with furrowed eyebrows.

"You called me a jerk? I'm not. I just don't like you", he states before walking out my room, slamming the door behind him.

"Yeah well.. ditto!", I yell back but it was hopeless he was probably already downstairs.

So what?! I didn't like any of them either. They act like just because they have money they can walk around like they own the world.

Well it's not going to work on me. I dust off my pants before opening the door and walking downstairs.

I'm met with the sight of Justin playing with his basketball on the couch, Melanie looking at herself in the mirror and Angelica working on something in the kitchen.

"Oh good morning Esmé!", Angelica chirps as I walk in the kitchen, a spatula in her hand and a mitten in her other, "Care for a waffle? Pancake?".

"No thanks", I dismiss her and instead grab a water bottle from the fridge and a granola bar from the pantry. As I'm eating the oats and chocolate my dad comes down the stairs fiddling with his tie.

"Okay kiddos! First day of school!", he states overly excited, "Now I expect everyone to be on their best behavior. Make sure your phones are charged and you have your schedules".

"Dad we're not 4", Melanie giggles from her place in front of the mirror, fixing her loc that fell in front of her face.

Dad.. it sounds weird coming out of her mouth. I supposed I'm used to dad being well my dad. Me and Eli's dad. I'm not used to hearing the sound of that word coming from someone else's mouth to reference my father.

"Well I know that honey but I just want you guys to stay safe".

I grab my bag, ready to leave this house but when I go to grab my keys they're nowhere to be found, "Where are my keys?", I exclaim.

"After your little stunt last night I thought you needed a little break from the car", Dad replies with a cross of his arms.

My mouth drops, seriously?! He can't just do that, "Wh-what about work?".

"Justin can drive you. Right Justin?".

Justin waves him off, "Sure. Whatever".

"Great", states dad as he walks into the kitchen and comes behind Angelica.

I watch as he grabs behind her causing her to squeal and tell him to knock it off with a laugh, "Oh hush you know you love it", he chuckles as he kisses her neck.

Angelica smiles brightly, turning around and fixing the older man's tie, "When do you think you'll be back?".

"Around 5".

"That's a bit early don't you think?".

"I told you I'd start taking some shifts off.. remember what we talked about?". And from the way their eyes darted towards me before flipping back towards each other I could tell that whatever they talked about involved the name 'Esmé'.

"Okay kiddos! It's 6:50, let's rock and roll", dad announces, grabbing his brief case and giving Angelica a kiss-goodbye.

Melanie, Justin, and I all made our way to the front door. Dad gave Melanie a kiss on the forehead before dapping up Justin then finally moving towards me.

He tried to give me a hug but I stop him with a shake of my head and follow the other two out the door.

We made it to Justin's red convertible, Melanie starting to open the door to the passenger side but Justin stops her before she can.

"Mel get in the back".

The young girl looks up at him with puffy cheeks, "What why?".

"Oldest are in the front remember? Dad's rule".

"That rule is stupid we don't even follow it half the time".

"Doesn't matter", Justin states with a shake of his head, "You're the youngest".

"That's not fair! I'm only a year younger than you two—".

I watched between the siblings the argument unfold before I decided to cut them off, "I can sit in the back", I open the door and slide inside.

Justin and Melanie look at each other before Melanie smirks and opens the passenger door.

"Whatever", Justin grumbles as he slides inside his car and turns on the ignition.

The entire ride I popped my headphones in and listen to some gospel music instead of the weird rap Justin had on. It distracted me as we drove to the school. Melanie sprayed about a thousand tons of perfume on, claiming it was for her boyfriend or her crush or something— I spaced out half the time. Whatever it was it was burning my nose.

See Melanie was everything I hated in girls my age, she was loud, obnoxious and only cared about her looks. She never focused on school so how she was still in it surprised me. The fact that I had to call her my step sister was something I don't ever think I'll be used to. But I had to admit she was one of the most prettiest girls at our school.

Even before dad met Angelica I knew who Melanie was. Her brown locs, light skin, and deep brown eyes held the attention of many guys. She always dressed in luxury brands and smelled sweet like cotton candy, now I can see why since she sprays so much of it on at 7 in the morning.

"We're here", Justin states, opening his door and slamming it close.

What is with him and slamming doors?

I fix my backpack over my shoulder before opening my door, watching as Melanie already huddles up with her clique and they walk towards the entrance of the school.

"Lincoln High school oh how I've missed you", I groan sarcastically as I shut the door behind me and make my way through the crowds of bystanders.

Our schedules are given to us via email so my face was burrowed in my phone as the bell rang. I look up and see the number to my first class and a smile paints my face as I walk a little faster.

But just as I need one more step to reach the door suddenly a body slams into mine. My feet lose their footing as my arms swing back and forth as I fall to the ground with a loud THUD.

"Ouch..", I grumble, rubbing my back as my face meet with the other body. But as my eyes meet one blue eye and and one brown, they suddenly widen.

"Tristan?".

The boy looks at me in shock but he quickly masks it and shakes his head, lifting to his feet. "Why don't you watch where you're going?".

He scowls before turning around and opening the door to the classroom I was trying to get to. I sat there confused, feeling all types of eyes on me. Some laughing. Some looking at me like I was crazy. I managed to find the strength to raise to my feet and hold my tears back.

"Ah Miss Poverly, so happy to see you decided to join us", states the teacher, Mr Alfonso, who had an aggravated grin on his face. I meet eyes with Tristan who was all the way in the back but once he sees me another scowl fall on his face and he looks down at the paper on his desk.

A few memeber of the class snicker as I find my assigned seat and immediately put my head down.

So much for good first impressions.

[spoonieboy]

cw: mental hospital, mistreatment, brief suicide mention

every once in awhile i think about when i was in the grippy sock center. they gave me prozac one of the mornings and by the time we went out to the courtyard, it was already impacting me. I looked up at the 3 story roofline, spotted an access door i hadn't noticed before, and immediately caught myself wondering how to get up there so i could jump. this was a new feeling, tho the nuance is hard to describe. i also had a sudden increase in agitation and couldn't control myself. didn't help that they sent a girl home who explicitly told us she wasn't ready & she'd end it if they sent her back. and they still sent her home. I couldn't contain my anger and went to the bedroom, flipped the mattress against the wall, and beat it until i was a sobbing mess on the bare bed frame.

my 'tantrum' earned me a visit with the head doc to discuss my behavior. I told them I couldn't take it again tomorrow, that i hated how i felt and they told me that that was impossible - that it was all in my head. (to a fucking mental health patient!!!) 💀 So i tried to explain that i metabolize meds faster than most but she cut me off, told me i was lying, and that i couldn't POSSIBLY feel the effects of the meds for at least 2 weeks. i tried to have calm words but had a meltdown instead. i don't remeber what happened afterwards.

next morning, i flat out refused the meds. luckily it was my favorite nurse and when she pushed a lil to try and encourage me to take it, i broke down crying, told her what happened, and she stopped. She took the meds back and seemingly had words with the prescribing doc bc i had a new med to try a short while later in the day.

lo & behold, i have eds! meds process Hella fast for me. its almost like thats a thing! 🤔 surprise, surprise!

i just wanna go back & give that lady a proper bitch slap and a stern talking to, frankly. i cannot fathom how someone so rude & callous was supposed to be in charge of all these broken kids. i, at 14, voluntarily checked myself into a mental hospital because i was ready to end my life. thats not the sort of situation where you talk down to, insult, and berate someone!! you treat them with gentle compassion and kindness! like they fucking need!!!!!

ugh.

the only things i'm grateful for in that time were the two therapy dogs, occupational therapy, art therapy, the math teacher who was so kind, gentle, and understanding - and the fact that they ended up taking 12 vials of blood to discover that my entire ass thyroid had completely dumped itself. i ended up needing levo for 2 years afterwards.

abt that math teacher, i was so defensive bc i was really struggling with math at the time and had never been treated at my own pace before, but this guy was nothing but sweet, patient, and encouraging. he didn't make fun of me for what i didn't know, didn't pressure me to go faster, just celebrated what i did manage to accomplish and gently helped me through the items i was struggling with. when i couldn't bring myself to do the math, he let me tidy up & organize his classroom, which was relaxing for me. that guy was a Prime example of the type of person who should be working there. math, in that short time, became somewhere i wanted to linger rather than run from because i felt safe there. thank you, mr. math teach. i wish i remembered your name. i appreciate you more than you know.

anyways, if you've read this far, why? honestly? lol. but idk, thank you for letting me share. writing this down helped me let go of some of those angry feelings i've been holding onto about it.

if you need to go to a mental hospital in VA, try to avoid the richmond one 💀 thats all i'll say.

[invisiblerambler]

Lucky for all of you my brain is full of bees tonight, and I don't have therapy until Friday.

This is going to be entirely incoherent and a meditation on about thirty things at once.

School started last week and naturally my body reacted in a very normal way which is activating my fight or flight in a way I'm not sure any other single thing in my life does, actually I'm almost sure of that.

My instinct is to name off all the things I like about the program and the opportunities it's brought me in order to not look like an asshole, but honestly it's been really hard and it's hard not to feel like everyone secretly hates or even worse just tolerates me.

I am aware it is probably my own damage and trauma but that doesn't help. The utmost awareness of everything about this situation isn't doing fucking anything to lower my resting heart rate or feel less like my skin is crawling with bees. The answer is probably to get back on an anti anxiety medication but the expected challenge with that is the idea of finding a new provider in my new state and going through the process of titrating up on medication sounds completely awful actually. I know the alternative is suffering for the next 8 or 9 months for what will amount to a couple hours of work on the front end, but I can barely cook for myself right now much less manage something that complex.

I am forcing myself to hopefully for the final time go to the DMV tomorrow and get my drivers license done. I will be honest if it wasn't an election year I would not be worried about getting it done in a timely way because as a student you get a grace period and my previous state's license is good until 2028 so I wouldn't be seeing the inside of a DMV anytime soon.

But it is an election year and after going twice this summer with bad results (half my fault, but also fuck real id) I need to just close the loop on this whole bureaucratic nightmare.

I also need to exploit to it's logical conclusion the fact that I am basically a free agent at my job presently so why wouldn't I just do every single boring task during work hours while I can get paid for it.

I also wrote out a list of the people who I need to follow up with either over email or text. It makes me feel sick because I have a horrible fear that these people don't actually want to speak to me or otherwise engage and not that they just got busy and lost track of our correspondence.

It was really comforting to talk to D the other night. I felt so significantly less alone hearing that she had been in a similar way singled out by a peer.

I didn't realize how not seriously literally everyone had taken what happened until she actually listened.

I don't think she would make a lunch invitation without seriousness behind it. And I don't need an excuse to ditch work for a couple hours and go across town.

I did make a dentist appointment today so everyone clap for that.

Life admin (mostly) feels easier than things like doing school work which is genuinely like pulling teeth. I am being so avoidant of everything to have to do with school it's like I'm allergic to it.

Maybe if I write it down enough times I won't actually have to do any of it.

I hate that school makes doing every other thing in my life feel awful.

Including but not limited to life admin.

Everything is a lot, and I'm trying to be okay with that instead of feeling like I have to fix it. It will even out, I will even out. (I hope)