#tw self esteem

[blitzsicedcoffee]

Ficlet-Supernova

Summary: After Apology Tour, Stolas reaches a breaking point

TW: self harm, depressive topics, talking down about self.

I am used to being alone. I just didn't think that I'd ruin everything trying to fix that.

Via stays at her mothers more than mine. She calls it "depressing", and I have to stifle a crude laugh because she's right. The palace half empty from her mothers' things gone, the covers on the furniture and the pictures. The unused ballroom. I never wanted to use that ballroom for its purpose, you know.

I wanted to host socialites of inventors and astrologers-people that I cared about. Not shallow people I've seen since childhood that come back to my home to ridicule me.

The first dinner with Via without her mother there, I explained that she would be living with both of us separately. And that it was so that we wouldn't fight.

I don't really know if I'm shielding her, delaying the inevitable, or just delaying the explanation of my emotions to the one person I've dedicated my whole life to. I love Via with all my heart. I know she's smart, and she'll eventually understand. But will she resent herself for everything I've given up for her? That is my biggest fear. I never want her to feel that way.

And still-I resent my own actions. Laying on this couch at another party I didn't want to come to while someone I poured myself out to for the first time is-what-justifying that night? Or is he apologizing?

I blink slowly and try to focus back in on his words.

"I just- this whole thing we had going-I mean you're a prince! Why would you ever want to be with someone like- with me?" He asks.

I try to avoid looking directly in his eyes. They've never looked so sad. I don't know what to feel right now. I feel-anger. I feel-sad. I feel-light and airy but I think that's the booze.

My words slur as they escape my beak, "Blitz, you want to know what I want? I want to be someone's, someone. I want to feel wanted!" I proceed to tell him, making a dramatic show of declaration.

Then he dares to reply, "Oh Stolas-thats-a romcom".

I groan and resist the urge to squak at him, "OH Fuck you. Point is, I want someone to look at me and think, you're the only one I want. I want to hold you, never let you feel so-", and why am I doing this again? He's never going to give me what I've wanted.

"YOU! Why are you here, I don't want you here go home please! Let me not feel so sad".

Here come the tears, again. I cover my face a take in a deep inhale, wiping them and composing myself. I am better than this. Aren't I? This would be so much better if I had my anxiety meds. Or more booze. Maybe more booze.

Suddenly a handsome incubus steps in and asks me to dance. Me?! That was...sudden. I look over to Blitz. He looks utterly dumbfounded and part of me wants to just choose on my own to go with him. But is Blitz feeling as much pain as I am? His hand gestures for me to go and I take the hint. I go without another word.

I look back at him and he covers himself with the tablecloth he was wearing moreso, and I almost feel guilt. Until the incubus is pulling me into the crowd, "Oh! I just thought we would dance on the side-woah! Hahaha", he knows what he's doing. I've never really danced for fun before. And never on my own really either. He twirls me and uses his wings to help and it's rather cute actually. Then he looks up at me with a look that I thought Blitz gave me once. A look of-longing. And he plants his lips upon mine.

At first I'm shocked, so forward. Then I let go. I melt into it and it's the first time I've ever done something like this with a stranger and the adrenaline rush is coursing through my blood. It invigorates me and I twirl our tongues, holding his head closer. I run my fingers up his hair and it's soft, and I squeeze. He takes well to this and pulls my waist closer with my cape, our bodies touching now.

And it would feel so so nice if it didn't feel so shallow. It's like there's this pit now, that Blitz has left. It's...it grows and-kind of like a star. It will continue to grow brighter until like a supernova, it explodes. I pull back from the incubus who I still haven't gotten his name, and hug myself. As if on que he pulls me to the side of the dance floor.

"Was that-alright your highness? I hope I didn't overstep", he says and I frown.

"The kiss was-great I just- think I need to go home", I reply. I open a portal and hesitate as he frowns. I kiss him on the cheek, "Thank you". And step through.

I can't sleep again. It's not like I've gotten much since the full moon anyway. I walk out onto the balcony and almost wish he was climbing it right now, that he'll hop over the side like he does and say something silly. And then we'll make amends and he'll kiss me and we'll hug tightly, falling onto the bed. Have we made amends? I can't quite tell.

One thing I do know is I miss him so much it hurts. I miss him and it hurts for so many different reasons. Something medicine or magic can't cure. I pull the blankets over my eyes and close them, hoping the darkness will pull me into sleep. Thankfully, it eventually does.

I wake with a pounding headache I know well. Walking over to my vanity I take pain medicine and down some electrolyte water that the Butler set out and hold the sides of my head. My mind is racing. About last night. About dancing and kissing that man. About missing Blitz.

I pull on a loose white blouse and cotton pants and finally look in the mirror. The feathers in the back are surely needing to be preened. They hurt.

The Butler peeks in and asks for my breakfast order but I wave him off, I don't feel I deserve food. I got my fill last night.

I still feel-floaty. Even though I know I'm no longer drunk. Like I could do something rash with no consequences. The Butler brings a tray of food anyway. I seethe as the sight of food makes me nauseous and put the tray near the door to be picked up later. Then I spy the knife.

Just a steak knife, nothing more. Probably sharpened recently. I take it and it's so light and small in my large hand. Like a pencil. I hold it like one and put the blade to my arm. I did this when I was a teenager, why not now? I'll just heal like I did back then. But emotionally-will I ever heal?

I squeeze my eyes shut and keep the blade at the same place near my flesh, my hand shaking a little. Why am I so scared? Why won't his face stop flashing in my mind?

I sob, the tears staining my shirt already as my other hand conjures a portal. I stumble through it and fall to my knees in front of wherever I've gone.

"...Stolas?!" Blitz says, running to my side from his desk and I can't look at him. But hearing his voice-it's like heaven.

"...Take this...from me..", I whisper and let the knife fall into his hand from mine and he slides it on the ground toward the other side of the room. Then he-hugs me?

I sob more and hold onto his arms and realize that he's sobbing too.

"I'm sorry", I say, something that always slips out when I do anything at all. Blitz takes my face in his hands and wipes my eyes with his sleeve, "Stolas don't, please. I'm sorry. I care about you so much please dont-im sorry", he says the words. The ones I've been waiting so long to hear. And it's like the fog clears. It's like, the light returns, and the supernova rewinds into a star.

[purplebass]

2024 Goals: Self-Esteem.

I know that my self-esteem issues are bad from the way I feel when I browse this website sometimes. Self-esteem is the reason I need to step back for hours or even days to collect myself and pat myself on the shoulder and repeat: "you are unique. you are good." I know I need to get better at handling this because I owe it to myself. The tendency to compare ourselves to others is unavoidable. We do it irl, no wonder we also do it here. I have no idea how to stop thinking whatever I post is bad, and it can never measure up to what another random individual created. I know it isn't true, and it's just my insecurity speaking. But I can't shut this voice down sometimes, and I wish I were better at doing this. This is a goal I need to set for 2024 and I hope can come here next year and say that I am doing better at this.

[wroteclassicaly]

I couldn’t pull Eddie and I sure as hell couldn’t pull Steve. Considering their canon love interests, I wouldn’t be on their radars. I don’t even think they’d wanna be friends with me, tbh… I like to pretend and feel empowered about it, but I’m basically a 31 yr old, morbidly obese loser, with extreme mental health conditions, and I’ve never had sex with a man before. So… yeah. I’ll just live in fanfiction ✌🏻

[snowe-zolynn-rogers]

Imagine Lunar hiding injured Blood Moon in the theater. Lunar learns to make sweets with blood in them so nobody questions him taking stuff like cupcakes and cookies and candy into the theater.

Eventually he graduates to making full meals with it like soup and lasagna and pizza and Blood Moon is just absolutely spoiled now being able to eat all these new things with their favorite ingredient.

Blood Moon is slowly getting a bit chubbier and more self-conscious of eating so much. Yet Lunar is very reassuring telling them they need to sustain themselves and their nanobots would be working overtime and burning up to fix themselves if they didn’t make sure they have enough reserves to sustain them and eating gives them those reserves.

Not to mention Lunar absolutely loves snuggling into Blood Moon’s belly like a cat to sleep and Blood Moon is such a snuggle cuddle partner now that they’re being spoiled and loved on. The Blood Moons are incredibly self-conscious and nervous of how their body is pudgy and now soft and a bit chubby.

Lunar regularly finds them staring in the mirror and squeezing at their new slightly chubby belly and pinching it and poking it. Lunar will shift into his avatar form and hug them right from behind and squeeze their insecurities away while assuring them they look fine and a bit of extra Blood Moon to snuggle and hug and love is nothing to be ashamed of.

Lunar is terrified for a minute when Moon eats a blood brownie and he says it tastes good. Lunar has to lie and say it’s just extra chocolate chips as the secret ingredient and KC surfaces and smiles at him because he just knows what that brownie had in it and he thinks Lunar has developed a taste for blood meanwhile Moon is none the wiser that the brownie had blood.

[afluria]

Feelin kinda ugly right now. Not sure why. :(

[theblankverse]

I'm Sorry

I'm sorry I have no more left to offer,

I'm sorry I used up all my potential,

I'm sorry I'm not worth much anymore,

I'm sorry I'm not what anyone wants,

I'm sorry I'm not good at things,

I'm sorry I'm not smart enough,

I'm sorry I yell when I get mad,

I'm sorry I'm not kind when I'm hurt,

I'm sorry I don't smile much these days,

I'm sorry that my laugh went away,

I'm sorry I'm broken inside,

I'm sorry that my body feels hollow,

I'm sorry I stopped fighting back,

I'm sorry I stopped planning for tomorrow,

I'm sorry I ran out of steam,

I'm sorry I'm not the best daughter,

I'm sorry I'm not the best sister,

I'm sorry I am the way I am,

I'm sorry you wanted something better,

I'm sorry I'm useless now,

I'm sorry I'm loud,

I'm sorry I'm quiet,

I'm sorry I'm me,

I'm sorry.

[f1-birb]

okay so this mentions body image/weight so if that's triggering or just something you don't feel comfortable reading about, pls just don't read any further and delete this.

but during that stream today

went from 🥺🥹 as lando squeezed his own cheeks to 😔😒 as he used it to start criticizing his body

then pietra with the "that's just skin" and theo looking at him like he's grown two heads

idk it just makes me feel kind of bleehhhh all of the times he criticizes his body. he has the strength needed to handle the G forces and whip that car around a F1 track, he's healthy, idk idk. just wish he was a bit easier on himself sometimes.

Thank you for checking in with me <3

I didn't watch the stream, just spent a while scrolling through opinions on his haircut some of which made me giggle (he did look like a poodle with the clips in) and then Max's reassurance the curls will be back ("gotta let it marinate") but I did find a clip of that moment you're talking about

Weight has always unfortunately played a huge part of the sport and so many drivers have suffered from it, but with the minimum driver weight now being 80kg it's meant a lot of them (especially taller drivers who can't help how much their bones weigh) have been able to ease up a little bit which is great but there's old habits I think some people can't shake and unfortunately this is not the first time Lando's commented on his weight in a slightly negative way

He talked in streams over the winter break about how he'd been working out and eating more but losing weight (which can and is possible with proper nutrition and training and is not necessarily a bad thing) and he seemed really positive but those comments, especially about his face - which sometimes you just can't change the way parts of your body sit or are like cheeks - are a little concerning

I'm just glad how quickly Theo, Max and Pietra all reacted to be encouraging that he's fine the way he is, and P enforcing my point that sometimes that's just the way you are

I'm hoping it's just a blip and his esteem being a dick and making him listen to nasty comments and he knows people love him the way he is, he's fit and healthy and we know Jon takes care of him, and it's nice to see that he's got plenty of people in his corner (despite P telling him and Max to be less codependent and Max to be less of a simp which I found hilarious)

[carletes]

I feel very self-conscious today but I know my period is around the corner and I’m probably a little nervous about the exam. Trying to take a deep breath and reminding myself that it’s a warm day out, other people are probably a little sweaty too, plenty of people have unwashed hair in the middle of the week, no one really judges you for a little bit of dandruff, etc. I have a reputation for being someone who always looks put together and stylish. I still look stylish. Just because I’m a little disheveled on closer inspection, that doesn’t mean I’m unworthy of being admired and cared for.

[daisyknife]

Can I take a tiny moment to be a bit vain here?

I never made a secret that I have deep body image issues. I spend so much time fixating on everything I don’t like about my appearance (my weight, my skin, my hair and eye colour, my *nose*, my hands, my height, my shape, my teeth, my body hair; you name it, I hate it) and as a result I maintain the opinion that I am objectively what could be considered, by the vast majority of people, “ugly”. Unattractive, unpleasant to look at, off putting even.

I don’t like what I see in any mirror or glass door and yet I can’t help but furtively reach for them with the corner of my eye, to constantly monitor just how ashamed of myself I should feel at any given moment. I give my appearance way too much importance, I know, I can’t help it. I tried not paying attention to it and that just led to complete self neglect. I felt even worse because I failed to only stop caring about my appearance, instead I didn’t care about myself at all. It’s a side of my life that needs work.

That’s why whenever I actually feel beautiful I want to celebrate it so much. I don’t even care if looking back I will pick apart my appearance again, I don’t care even if the vast majority of people will agree with me that even in those moments I could be called, objectively, “ugly”.

Yesterday I felt beautiful for the first time in months.

Today I wanna celebrate that before I forget what it feels like. Again.

[thoughtsofthepersonalkind]

I feel like my life is over

It's been 3 months, give or take are few days, since this started and every day I regret all my life choices that lead to that moment.

I hate it, I hate to admit it, but I'm not getting better. This is never going away.

It's so hard to say but I'm... disabled. Permanently.

Not only that but in so much pain.

Everything I wanted relied on me being Strong. Capable. Active. Independent.

And now? I can't even sit down, can't even carry backpacks, can't lean down, can't run.

My identity up until now had been defined by my physical abilities, by working with my hands and doing the heavy lifting.

I liked being able to defend myself and others, to help family build furniture, carry materials to the workshop and spend hours working on projects.

I don't think I'll ever be able to return to fighting, lifting, strengthening myself, carrying my dogs.

And I fear my ability to create, to work, will also be taken away from me.

What am I if I can't do what I love? What I spent years of my life studying to do?

The only thing I had defined in my life was that one day I want to own my own workshop and spend my days making things. And now I'm wondering if I'll be able to do it at all.

I miss fighting, I miss it so much, it brought balance into my life, I made friends with my teammates, I had a sort of happiness in it.

I don't think I'm ever going back.

I'm so tired

I'd do anything to be better, anything at all. God, I would steal, lie and kill if it meant I could have my life back. But there's nothing that can be done.

Fuck. Fuck. Why? Why am I like this?

I DIDNT KNOW THIS COULD HAPPEN

If I had known years ago... hell if I had known one hour before That Day. I would've changed.

Or at least, I would like to believe I would've.

But maybe I'm kidding myself. I was a piece of shit, I probably wouldn't have done anything.

I can't believe this is what it took.

I hate myself.

[marshmallowprotection]

Hey! I just wanted to jump in with the trend of the Saerans taking care of those of us with disabilities, because, well...like everyone else I personally am just curious about how he would...react.

I was perfectly fine when I was a kid in terms of health, nothing wrong or weird or different at all - but then when I became a teen, about 14/15 ish upwards, I started experiencing these weird...blurry, dizzy episodes.

My vision becomes distorted, I see sharp flashes of light and jarring, swirling colours like a crazy rainbow. I can't understand or hear anything around me.

Sometimes I've even momentarily blacked out when they hit, and often, my memory literally wipes itself of what the heck just happened.

Once I was in a dentist's waiting room with my mum for an appointment then I had one of those things.

When she saw I was sort of freezing up and sitting really still and wide-eyed, oh man she must've been like wtf

And even more WTF a while after it, when I was slowly coming back around. I asked her what happened. She said I'd felt sick at the dentist, and then I asked her outright, 'What's a dentist?'

I didn't even know what had happened. At all.

It was so bizarre.

And my body must respond to what's happening as well, because there was one time where I vividly remember my ears feeling totally blocked and ringing, but pounding with my pulse all at the same time.

...

I also discovered that if I'm standing up when one happens, my legs just don't like it at all. Balance, perception, movement - I immediately stumble, I can't walk, my legs and feet just...turn into pure jelly.

...

A couple of times I've nearly straight-up collapsed, but my mum managed to catch me before I've ever fully fallen. (My mum is the best 😥❤)

These episodes themselves, they aren't painful, they don't hurt when they're happening, but they usually mess up my head afterwards with a migraine, nausea and a big old dump of brain fog, like I kind of already explained. I never really remember anything except for everything being so wacky and distorted.

And just to top it all off, I also started getting these weird jerks in my body. I'm not sure if it's all connected though, because I'm perfectly fine otherwise, no blanking out etc, but they're definitely...something, to have started up around the same time as the other things developed. But they're just weird little body jerks, like spasms of my head, arms, hands, legs, etc - though they sometimes can be so strong that they make me gasp or like, force a noise like huh!!?.

I'm like a hazard to everything around me XD;;; They happen almost daily.

...

Um. So. I was pretty terrified to find out what all of these things were, and it took a pretty long time to get appointments, especially in neurology, because every doctor I'd seen pretty much agreed that these were brain things.

When I heard that, I freaked. My brain? Brain??!!

So far, I've had two (terrifying) MRI scans and a weird process where they stick a bunch of little circles with wires all stemming from them all around your head. They were all connected to this little device that I had to wear like a little fanny pack thing, and I had to have all of that for five days.

But they didn't really find anything in that, and the MRI's weren't as clear as they could have been in a result.

But! The general conclusion is a late-developing form of epilepsy which only emerges during puberty, because of the major shift in hormones! ^^ ... :(

It was...so scary to learn. And especially something like epilepsy, which is so widely branded as, thought to be, and even warned as something so serious, even life-threatening in some cases. But there are different kinds of epilepsy. Some are severe, some are mild, like mine seems to be.

These blurry episodes I get, they are most likely seizures, but they're something called 'absence seizures', because you...just kind of go...still, for a while. Almost like you...disappear.

And that's why, I think...it feels so awful. I must literally...disappear for a while. And I don't know what happened, except for little snippets.

Even though nobody but me could know what they feel like, I...still feel so isolated, and dissonant, like I'm not even in line with the world anymore, in a weird way, because sometimes I just boop out for even just a minute. But a minute... is a long...time, with this.

I'm on medication, which has improved my symptoms and definitely and thankfully, lessened the amount of episodes I get, but I do still experience them. I only seem to get them now - and most beautifully - when hormones want to shift and come to the party, so why wouldn't they love to come on in for a girl's favourite time of the month? ^^

....

I'm just so weary, and I feel so alone, and just...broken, in a way. These episodes just make me feel like my brain is a total malfunctioning mess, and sometimes I even feel like that means I'm some sort of damaged mess too.

...

I know, this post is so long and I'm sorry and I know to read what goes on with me and all of this stuff must be so difficult to understand and barely make sense, but...

I don't know. When I read how other people have Saeran as their comfort in difficult or complicated times, whatever they may be, I just felt kind of like a weird spark of hope, like oh...!

I really care about Saeran, and he says he cares about us too. But I would never have brought up my seizures, I don't even think of them when I play MysMes because it's an escape. Even if I have a seizure when I'm literally playing the game - which I have before - it never takes me long afterwards to get back into it - to remember, everything I was doing and being like...yeah. Yeah...!

So...when I'm playing the game, I always try to erase how much they bother me and how much they upset me, but I can't, because these things are part of me now. Inherently.

I would never want to bring it up. Not to somebody I care about, not to somebody who sees me in a nice way - somebody who tells me I'm so lovely and beautiful and angelic - to then see...all of that.

...Genuinely, it's scary to watch me when I'm having one of my seizures. I've been told.

I never knew what I looked like (apart form my weird twitches, because I can laugh them off and be like lol, my arm just flung out) until I actually asked my mum.

Of course, she's used to it all now, but she said that they do look genuinely frightening sometimes.

My seizures, I mean. And now that I know, I never want anyone to look at me again. When I even get a little anxious thought that I might have one (sometimes I can predict if I feel kind of 'out of it' that day), I immediately go somewhere alone. I want to be by myself. I don't want anyone to watch me.

Because it just looks so ugly.

Apparently, I go really still. I'm unresponsive and sort of start to dribble at the mouth because my saliva's like, bro, what do I do - because I look like I'm trying to speak. But I don't. Or likely, can't.

And my eyes kind of...roll, too. And I can only hope that I'm doing that because I must be panicking.

But it is a seizure. So. Probably not.

I don't even know yet, what the best way is to recover from my seizures. Little ones are okay. I can more or less shake them off quite fast. But the big ones, the ones which are so horrific to experience - so far I've just...learned that all I can do really is to lie down with a blanket, maybe, and try to slowly come round from my crazily spinning, throbbing, head. And such confusion. I can't even recognise my mum when she's comforting me afterwards. I can't speak, or even think.

I love my mum so much...but what really helped me from my dark place of such misery during the really tough times was MysMes. Even just the routine of it. The chatrooms, calls, characters. It was every day. Always something to look forward to, even if I was slammed down by a seizure.

...

But I don't want the RFA to be scared of me. It's so easy to be, by my seizures.

Man, I'm so happy that in game they don't get to meet you. I don't want them to know me. I'd beg them not to even look at me if I felt that a seizure might be coming. I just can't stop myself being so afraid that all I look like is some sort of weird...freaky alien.

When I got the game, I was in such a sad place. I started feeling like the RFA were my friends, because I was so lonely irl.

And then with Saeran, I...

I just have this connection to him. A special little bond that I grip onto for dear life.

But it...just breaks my heart a bit, how he's come so far and is beginning to heal his wounds.

He's recovering from his trauma, he's reached a level of fulfillment, he's learning how to love himself and live in peace.

But I'm not there yet. I can't live in peace with this, and I just can't...love myself. I feel so broken and ugly for being how I am, even though I can't stop it. My seizures are scary, and my body twitches are uncomfortable and laughable.

Saeran's a man so full of love. His heart is just brimming with it, but...then there's just...me.

I have a little Ray plushie that I cuddle sometimes, but not often because I'm scared that I'll accidentally drop him or throw him across the room with an arm or hand jerk XDDDD

I just...wish I could get a real big hug from him, you know?

Just a huge, huge cuddle that never ends.

...

I'm sorry, this whole post is such a mess.

Hi, Anon! Thank you for sharing your story with me because I know it's difficult to try and explain all of these feelings to someone who's unaware of the depth of everything you go through. While we may not share the same disability, I hope you find a sense of kinship in me as we talk about this underneath the cut!

My story is like yours, anon. I grew up without any serious medical problems that I could speak of. I was healthy until I wasn't. Twice, it happened to me. I woke up twice on two separate occasions within a year and my body stopped functioning the way that it was supposed to. First, my back went out, and walking became an issue off and on, and then my stomach stopped functioning on me.

That's really how it happens to a lot of people. One minute, we don't have any issue, but the next, something's wrong and we don't know how to explain it. For me, I can remember that moment when things changed. I couldn't breathe, my vision went blurry, and everything in my body felt numb. I didn't know how to explain it. It took months of fighting doctors and specialists to find figure out what went wrong.

The only answer for me is idiopathic. There was nothing to explain why I suddenly had Gastroparesis. I know relatively why my back is an issue, but there's no answer for my stomach. It changed my life forever when it happened. Things I took for granted are things that I'm unable to enjoy without weighing the risks of doing them again.

For me, I have to watch what I eat because if your food doesn't go through your guts, they'll just sit there and rot until it kills you right where you stand or you get help for it. I grieve a lot because think of how many things in our culture, our society, and our world bring us to the table and bring people together. I can't participate many times. I have to sit out and that's hard.

I won't get into details but... stomach issues are taboo and "gross" so I don't often get to vent or talk about what's wrong. It's funny since I used to be more anxious and shy about talking about "gross" things, but you learn how to talk about them when you're sick and need the help. It's not shameful. Everyone has a body and bodies do things to survive that aren't always "pretty".

It pains me to hear that you're afraid that you're "gross" or "ugly" because of how your body reacts. It's not. People who love you for who you are won't be disgusted by you. You're you, and that means your seizures are a part of you. Saeran won't think you're ugly for it. He never would.

He wants you to be happy with yourself, but he more than anyone knows what you're feeling. He knows that shame you feel because he's spent too much of his life sick. I'm sure his mother let him know many horrible ableist things when he wasn't well, and his heart would ache to know that you might've experienced that kind of pain. Or, to a lesser extent, if you've experienced internalized ableism.

You're not ugly, my friend. The only thing that's ugly is people who make you feel ugly. Who cares if you drool or have spasms? Saeran would learn how to help. Do you need your neck elevated? Are you in need of someone to guard you? Do you need to make sure nobody is "a kind stranger" who wants to stop you from jerking (we know that type does more harm than good)?

Saeran won't let anyone disrespect you or touch you when you're in the middle of an episode. He will learn how to be your protector just as you've learned how to protect him. You're not a burden or an issue to him. Don't ever think that. And, please, if you need it, let yourself be okay to imagine him comforting you after an episode. He would do that for you.

The entire RFA would. They wouldn't let you feel insecure or shameful about it. You're not scary. You're not a monster. You're not alien. You are human just as much as I am. If anyone says otherwise, just let me know because I don't stand for ableism. I sure as hell don't stand for it in our comfort spaces. Saeran would never let you feel blue over this.

You wouldn't let him feel bad about himself no matter what, right?

Why can't he do the same?

But, just like you, I've had Mystic Messenger since 2016. I'd been fighting for at least 4 months through things I still can't even talk about when I met the RFA. They welcomed me when I was losing everything. I lost a lot of people because, as I'm sure you're aware when you don't "get better" from your chronic illness, a lot of people will disappear.

The sympathy stops.

People don't want to hear about things anymore.

But, the RFA was there for me. They didn't make me think about the pain and hurt. They gave me a chance to be helpful and myself again. Being the party coordinator... helping everyone... that's me. What I'm confident in about myself is that I try to brighten people's days even if all I can do is give them one little thing that makes it okay for just a minute. Helping them helped me. I felt seen. I didn't have to be afraid of being myself with the RFA.

Because they're characters that learn how to live without fear in their hearts because of what we, the players, do for them. They grow and change for the better, but never ever lose the essence of what makes them who they are. You don't have to be afraid of them judging you or thinking less of you with the fourth wall there to protect you, but if I can tell you anything, it's that the RFA would never judge you or think less of you.

It doesn't matter who you are or what you're going through.

They'd do everything to understand and learn how to be there for you the way you need just as you learned for them. It doesn't matter what you deal with. They'll learn, adapt, and understand. You did all that for them. They'll do that for you.

If anything, anon, I want you to know that grief is okay. People like you and me, we cycle through the stages of grief. It's natural and it's okay. I'm not at peace with myself sometimes. You feel denial, anger, bargaining, depression, and acceptance. But, you don't just feel the stages of grief and get over it. You go through it every day, some are easier and some are harder. But, remember one thing, you're allowed to feel whatever you need.

Don't let anyone tell you otherwise. You don't need to be okay every day. You don't need to be inspiration porn. You don't need to be the model of "if they can do it, you can do it." All you need to do is be you and whatever that means for you, I hope you're able to find peace on the good days. I hope the pain lessens.

Saeran loves you, Anon.

He always will.

And I know he'd sit next to me when I can't stop crying about the loss I've experienced just as much as he'd be ready and able to sit by your side and hold your hand when you cry about your fears. We're in this life together, whether we know each other or not, and I hope this will make you feel a little less alone and a little more seen.

[360iris]

“I hate my body. I hate yours too.”

I think about this line in ‘Beirut’ very often. But sometimes, sometimes I think of how it reminds me of Marc.

Marc after he left Layla, but before he began his journey of healing with Steven.

I think of Marc in the moments where he’s truly alone and he can’t stand to look at his reflection. Not even at his own hands because his body is a smaller fraction of Wendy.

His body is the only thing that connects him to her and what she did, and what she put him through.

It reminds him of the control she took from him. It reminds him of the control Khonshu continues to take from him the longer he serves under him.

Marc believed his predisposition towards taking lives started after he led Randall to the cave. That it was his fault and therefore the loss of his brother’s life was on his hands.

And under Khonshu, he’s forced to continue to live out that belief, fortifying it in a way? With all of these atrocities he leaves in his wake? He’s made those happen with his hands too.

Anyway, I think of Marc loving Layla but also being unable to completely quiet the small part of himself that’s envious of how whole she is. In the little way we all look at what life’s handed us on a plate and shift our eyes to someone we believe has it nicer.

[vventingandstuff]

mother did you know you're the reason i hate my reflection this much? did you know you're the reason why i flinch when my eyes pass a mirror? did you know you're why i hate my face and my hair and my eyes and my smile? did you know you're why i hate it when people look at me? did you know you're why I'd rather be left on my own in silence than be under anyone's attention?

have you ever thought that you're the reason why i don't believe it when anyone tells me I'm pretty? that you're the reason why i think people lie to me when they compliment me? that the only way people could find me interesting is if they don't know me in real life?

did you know that no one's words have cut me as deep as yours? that no one is the cause of so much of my pain as you except for myself?

did you know whenever there's a voice in my brain telling me to hate myself it sounds like yours?

i wonder if it would pain you as much as it pains me, for you to know that you're the reason why i don't believe I'm worthy of love, not even from myself

I'm sorry I'm not pretty enough

I'm sorry my hair isn't straight and long

I'm sorry I'm not tall or thin

I'm sorry my curves are in the wrong places

I'm sorry my eyes are too small

but most of all I'm sorry you're the reason why i think like this in the first place

i mourn the loving words i never had

i wonder if I'll ever have the guts to tell you this

i wonder if you would ever care enough to ask

[theblankverse]

Today

I wake up each morning hoping today is the day.

I hope that today is the day things become better.

Maybe today I get my dream job.

Today I might meet my soulmate.

I might get to hear a joke that leaves me crying with joy.

Could today be the day the smell of the breeze takes me to a happy memory.

Am I going to hug my friends today.

I awake with hope in my heart.

The day passes.

Today I had no plans.

Everyone was busy anyway.

All my emails were spam.

I don't think I smiled let alone laughed.

I stared in the mirror and reminded myself all the ways someone won't want me.

It rained and the rain smelt bitter instead of sweet.

Today I didn't see my friends.

Today I didn't meet you.

Today I stayed exactly the same.

I fall asleep with tears on my cheeks, and dread in my heart.

But I'll still wake up tomorrow.

And the next day.

And the next.

I'll keep waking up.

Because the day can't be better.

If I'm not here.

[thezekezeal]

The gut wrenching loneliness and inadequacy I feel being a small trans masc femme with no special qualities or experiences is despicable. I feel like there’s nothing new I have to offer to the internet content wise, or people in real life because there’s many more just like me who are more socially capable and dominant. I hate that my existence enforces stereotypes even though I logically know I can’t help it

[hugsandnoregrets]

having low self esteem as I move to a point in my life where I’m too busy and fulfilled to have a regular stream of self hatred going in my brain is a very weird combination

I go to work and ride the train and smile at strangers and do my grocery shopping and go to the gym and play dnd with my friends and swim in the lake and do trivia and go on six mile walks through the north side and all of this is so wonderful and calming and lovely

and then I see a reflection of myself in a moment of silence, or I feel the roll of my back against a chair when I take a breather, or I realize while I’m out doing these wonderful lovely things that I am plain and disgusting and the most embarrassing thing alive and it makes me want to rip my skin off so violently I can’t even breathe

and then I have a train to catch, so I just don’t think about it.