#tw dissasociation

[imwhumpee]

I’ve Got You

TW: self harm, blood, dissasociation...yeah this is a little 2012 cringe but this is just what I felt like writing right now. Both gender neutral Whumpee and gender neutral S.O. Caretaker.

I watch the gentle streaks of blood bead onto the surface of my skin, a sigh passing over my lips as the tightness in my chest starts to relax. Whenever I get the urge to cut it feels like my insides want to burst out and doing so is like opening a dam of emotion released. The droplets gather and begin to drip down from my wrists, a crimson wine that drunkens me. Deadens me from the stress, the sadness, the anxiety, all of it. I revel in the disturbed nature for a few moments before leaning back against the wall. 

The relief doesn’t last long, as I hear Caretaker’s footsteps coming to the opposite side of the bathroom door. They knock and the uncertainty and concern in their voice is thick as they ask, “Hey, love, you okay? You’ve been in there for a while. You feeling alright? You’re not feeling ill are you?” 

Shame wells up through me, the tightness once again returning and ruining any sense of ease I had. I choke out softly, “Yeah, I’m alright,” before biting my lip. My frame reflects back to me in the bathroom mirror, my body and the damage done to it for a moment doesn’t seem real. Looking back into my own eyes they seem dead, empty, glassy like marble. I could almost feel myself cut away from my physicality and float above me. What was happening again?

Caretaker doesn’t seem convinced. “Are you sure? You don’t sound alright. Honey, I’m concerned. I’m gonna come in, okay?” 

They slowly open the door and find me. I sink to the floor and the drips of blood join me there. Their breath hitches for a moment, eyes flickering worry before they kneel in front of me and gently hold my hand and turn over my arm to see what I’ve done. “Oh, dear, I’ve got you it’s okay,” they say before grabbing the first aid kit out from under the sink. I sit still, slumped over. Despite being right next to me, they seem so far away. 

They bring out the alcohol wipes and very gently brush over the cuts. The stinging pain on my skin pulls me back into my body some. I shift in discomfort, and Caretaker notices. “I know this hurts, but it’s gotta be done. You with me, baby?” They pause to cup my cheek with their other hand, their thumb running back and forth. It’s warm compared to the cold tile floor. It spreads through me as I manage to reply with a nod.

They place pressure on the wounds, stopping the bleeding from some of the worse ones before bandaging them up. Unable to speak, embarrassed and ashamed, I watch them work. As the cuts are taken care of, Caretaker whispers gentle reassurances, their voice soothing me like a lullaby as they always do. It settles me. I drink in their presence like a warm tea. A soft blanket wrapped around me. Life, love, gentleness. It’s so tender, it melts the negativity. 

Caretaker finishes and cleans up. They sit back beside me and pull me gently into their chest. I sink into them, tears forming and then falling into their shirt. I can relax now. They rock me back and forth, their chin resting on my head as they pet my hair. “I’m sorry,” I whisper. 

“It’s alright now love, I’m here. I always will be.”

[vixensofdeath]

every day it gets harder to live. I get out of bed and don’t know what I’m doing, I don’t know who I am, I don’t know what I want or need. I simply do not exist.

[thenightsystem]

sometimes self care is turning on youtube to pretend like youre doing something, then disassociating for an hour

-host

[sprinkleofquirk]

Rather than explain that I cannot have Asperger’s syndrome because that hasn’t been included in the DSM since 2013 since Hans Asperger was, among other things, a fucking Nazi, I used my ✨healthy coping mechanisms✨ (kinda) and made these 🙃

And I say ‘kinda’ because I don’t… exactly… remember? Making them? They just kinda… ✨appeared✨ and a few hours had passed

[fentanyl-rabbits]

I want to live in the unreal (my head is my home)

[gaudypackshawty]

[aobabes]

The fact that Sly literally only ever fronted whenever Aoba was being assaulted, abused, or nearly killed throughout DRAMAtical Murder yet to this day people still call him “the evil alter cliche” in terms of the general portrayal of DID in media really really bothers me.

He literally was split as a means to protect Aoba, which is exactly what Sly did. Did he go about it the wrong way? Yeah, I'd say destroying people's brains and giving people brain hemorrhages isn't necessarily the best way to ensure the safety of your system, but that's literally what an aggressive protector is in a system: An alter usually split to deal with physical, verbal, emotional, or sexual abuse and/or assault, but due to their misguided idea of what protection should and shouldn't be, they retaliate against said danger and/or abuse aggressively. They mean no harm to their system nor the body and it's the same case for Aoba and Sly.

Aoba literally acknowledges that Sly was never evil and that he just had a misguided idea of protecting him from harm in Ren’s route. Stop it with the “Sly/Desire is evil and that's his only character trait” shtick because it's annoying. He's just a smug little gremlin alter who likes to mess with people's heads, and what about it?? He's far from “evil” he's just a tiny bastard man who just so happens to have mind manipulation powers.

[sockeyesidequest]

On Depersonalization

[miz-chase]

Can you imagine how long those two weeks were?

Sleep won't come, so why bother. Thoughts are too slippery, too dangerous, so stick to facts, to work, to solid bones in her hands. There's always more work to be done, always another body's story to tell. So she works. One bone laid down in the correct position beside the next, an entire body laid out in textbook precision. If she could just keep her thoughts as orderly and clean as these bones, that ringing in her ears will stop, that aching emptiness will pass.

[mikka-minns]

Okay so im gonna share my headcanon on why kuai liang didnt react to hanzo's death with much emotion (this isnt a theory, and its the opposite of Canon, i Just need to cope. Fuck off nrs, u suck! Fuck Canon too!)

Kuai dissociated when Scorpion told him Hanzo is dead.

He couldn’t proces the Thought of losing another person he loved(platonicly or romanticly, your choice). He disconected from and questioned reality. Felt like what is happening isnt real. Didnt help that Hanzo's past self was right in front of him. And this happened to him so many times, losing people he scared about, ever since he was a small child, that he didnt know how he should feel. Should he be used to this? Cuz he sure wasnt.

He couldn’t belive Hanzo is realy dead for quite some time and when he couldn’t deny it anymore, it broke him.

Then he went to the netherrealm and found him and brought him back and they lived happily ever after

Source? Shut up, Let me be in denial and happy, please.😭

[blindsighted]

Mourning Dove

A storm was brewing far in the distance. Thunder rolled in the valley, still twenty miles out. Grey clouds set back the sunrise by an hour, and young Kakashi wakes all alone in his father's bed. He shivers. It feels empty in the house. He grips the covers tight just under his eyes, wide awake and alert.

pit pat

The first drops of rain fall against the glass in large splatters. It's going to be a big one. Kakashi shivers.

A low rumble creeps ever closer; ten miles out, and Kakashi sits up all at once, just in time for a bright flash of lightning to illuminate the still and shadowy space around him. It looks like his home, but with the color washed out. His eyes are round with large black pupils that disappear into a dark iris. They scan from left to right, searching for what is missing.

Another droll of thunder lifts him to his feet. They hit the wood grain with a soft slap and the cold jolts him a little more awake. His heart thud thud thuds against his chest and he swallows a dry lump to try and keep it from leaping out.

Something is wrong.

The smell of iron clings to the electricity in the air and Kakashi shifts one foot forward, then the next. His eyes stare wide and fixed across the hall and into the living room, where an unfamiliar dark stain just broaches the edge of the doorframe.

His feet carry him, one shuffling step after the other, closer and closer, until he's standing in the doorway. He can't make out the identity of that shadowy lump, so he steps closer...

A flash of lightning and a sharp bang shatters the darkness, and in that instant, Kakashi's world falls to pieces.

A fragile breath shakes loose from his constricting throat, but the boy doesn't move. His heart is frozen. It stabs through his chest and sends waves of ice and fire through his veins, till Kakashi can no longer stand. His knees give out and he collapses there behind his father's slumped over shape.

A timid hand reaches for him, the unfamiliar hand of a child, and when it touches his shoulder, he feels the solid touch of ice, far removed from the once warm and comforting presence of the man he'd known. The hand pulls back and disappears, and Kakashi sits still. Everything has stopped.

He exists here, and nowhere, for the person he was before has died. In his place, emptiness lives on.

[crows-talking-place]

honestly the way chip reacts to other people's distress is actually super telling i cant lie

like when gillion gets upset about being lied to in ep 11, chip is affronted. offended. because with price never had the luxury of truth, he had to work out what was real and what was a game. he doesn't realise lying isn't usually part of a healthy relationship.

and llike. when ollie is possessed by the existential dread demons fighting ensa's house in ep 96, and is VERY CLEARLY not ok in the slightest, chip doesnt seem to understand. like at all. he takes this as a completely normal thing to happen. this tells us that he has not only experienced this before in some way, but also that he has ENOUGH experiences with completely shutting down that he sees this as Just Another Day.

i think we sometimes forget how fucked his past actually is

[vixensofdeath]

my life has just been a series of waiting to feel better and never being able to because someone or something happening. I’m tired of going two steps back every time I step forward. I just wish there were something out there for me, and if there is, I wish it’d come faster.

[myheartisonthetrain]

tw s/h relapse, disassociation and meltdown description

something bad happening, reaching for a blunt object and half cutting yourself before realising what you're doing and then looking down at your arm that now bears red streaks indicating where you last cut yourself at least a year ago, and with tears trickling down your face, you wipe them up with your hand and rub it along the scratches, like how you used to wash your arm after they appeared, and you expect them to go away again like how you remember but the salt only stings more and now you're staring at yourself thinking 'no, no, no, no, i didn't do it, i'm not like that anymore, please, no, i'm mature now, i like myself now' and slowly remembering that no, it wasn't as simple as just cut and go, and that you blocked the hard bits out of your memory to stop yourself from crying every time you look in the mirror has got to be up there with the worst emotional pain ever

[fentanyl-rabbits]

Where am I? (In my fantasy world)

[whumpbees]

Whumpee who has a hard time processing everything that's happened to them. Even after being rescued- it all just feels... distant. Far away. They keep expecting it to hit them but it just- doesn't. Maybe they eventually start to wonder, if it doesn't hurt- could it really have been that bad to begin with?