#tw: anxiety and paranoia

[androgynouscloudheart]

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[pr1soners-d1lemma]

No matter how hard I try, I'll never be noticed.

[let-roman-bite-someone]

this is something i’ve been ruminating on ever since WTIT came out.

i’ve been thinking about this connection for a while. Virgil’s anxiety can lead to cognitive distortions if taken too far (a.k.a if Thomas beats himself up over something) and these cognitive distortions are Remus’s creations. this is interesting, it’s interesting to see how Virgil’s and Remus’s roles overlap and almost compliment each other, but in an unhealthy way.

but this just makes it all the more confusing as to why Virgil wasn’t present in WTIT, and why he seemed so unbothered in the endcard. i once aired this confusion on here and most people said that it was like Logan in Moving On, Virgil was still present within Thomas, he just didn’t take a physical form.

this doesn’t make sense to me because when Logan sunk out, Thomas had trouble thinking logically at first. he gets around to it eventually, but it’s clear that while Logan wasn’t completely gone, his disappearance made a significant impact on the group. Virgil was having a panic attack, Roman was urging Thomas to act on impulse, Patton was confused and lost.

it’s clear this is not the case in WTIT. in an episode that is so heavily centered around anxiety and - dare i say - paranoia, it’s baffling that Virgil was almost completely unaffected. especially since, again, he seemed fine in the end card. he was a little bitter towards Patton, but that’s all.

i’m just curious as to whether there was a canonical reason for this. for why Virgil wasn’t involved in an episode where Thomas was constantly panicking over dangers that might take place.

especially since,

1. Thomas is worried about something Virgil has mentioned before, being alone/losing his loved ones.

2. Thomas did something that Virgil has canonically been shown to care about in the past - not following up on his plans to be productive.

3. fake!Nico says WORD FOR WORD what Virgil suggested during the debate - AND both scenarios were about a potential love interest not replying to Thomas’s text.

of course, Virgil has greatly improved since the negative thinking episode, but he is still anxiety. and Thomas is still an anxious person. and Thomas was visibly freaking out throughout WTIT so it’s really really unlikely that Virgil was just in the backseat for that episode.

Logan temporarily “leaving” (but still being present) in Moving On makes sense because it was an emotional episode, and Thomas needed to sort things out with his emotional sides a.k.a Patton, Roman and Virgil (mainly Patton). there was logic involved but it wasn’t a logic-centric episode.

WTIT was 100% an anxiety-centric episode.

i doubt that this was accidental. there are so many direct parallels and callbacks, it had to be intentional. there’s no way Thomas and crew just forgot that Virgil played a crucial role in creating cognitive distortions. i think there’s something deeper here, there must be a reason why Virgil wasn’t present for this episode and how he seemed so nonchalant when he did appear. there’s absolutely no way Virgil was just “present within Thomas” and didn’t feel the need to show up in person.

[the-red-thread-that-strangles]

Written for the 'cold' prompt

Where there should be a gun, only a butcher's knife waits for Akai.

Right.

They confiscated his weapons.

Oh well. Even declawed, he still has fangs. Just means he needs to get up close to get the kill.

Akai drops from his bed into a crouch. The knife's handle digs into his hand, unyielding, providing steady support in a hazy world.

He follows the edge of the bed, to where he can see light pass through the gap under the door. The sound of glass shattering, followed by a thud is what woke him, he's sure, but there's no footsteps, no shadow passing by. His intruder might be good.

But Akai knows he's better.

He sneaks up to the door, listening, waiting. There's faint breathing outside, too fast. Whoever it is, it's possible his attacker got caught up in the adrenaline rush. That should make it easier to surprise and dispatch them.

He takes cover behind the wall, and kicks the door open.

The living room lights blind him momentarily, too bright in the night. Akai blinks through the nausea, checks the windows he can see from his position - intact.

Good. He can still hear the breathing - irregular - but the sounds of the night remain distant, removed. He dashes to the other side of the door, surveilling the familiar living room outside.

As expected, all windows are shuttered, bolted shut from the inside. The intruder is trapped with him, then.

Ah, yes.

He's missed the hunt.

Though something seems off. He can't see them, but the source of noise doesn't appear to be moving. What are they waiting for? Data to download from his laptop? Poisoned gas to distribute in the room?

He can't smell anything strange, but beneath the scent of cigarette smoke and bourbon, it would be difficult to detect. He still puts a hand over his mouth, breathes as shallowly as he can manage.

Fine, fine. He'll go greet them already.

He sneaks around the too-comfortable sofa, takes cover behind his armchair, creeps up to the kitchen isle. Beyond its corner is the source of the noise, the source of another breath in his space.

He turns the corner, ready to dispatch the intruder-

-and barely manages to stop the knife in time. Stabs the ground next to an exposed neck.

There's a crumpled form on his floor in a sea of broken glass, blond hair covering their face.

Jodie?

No, that can't be.

Cold dread seizes his heart.

Jodie is dead.

His ears ring with the echo of a gunshot, drowning out all sounds but his own, stuttering heartbeat. It throbs in his head, too fast, too loud.

No. No. No.

Vertigo takes a hold of him, would have him join the figure on the floor.

The knife drops from his hands, clutters onto the floor uselessly. He grips the cupboard's corner, trying to maintain his balance. Doesn't quite manage it, and missteps.

A sharp pain in his foot forces him back to the present.

That's a problem for later.

Breathe. Assess.

The person in his kitchen groans, a rather common sound in Akai's presence.

Furuya.

He's alive.

But for how long?

Akai rushes to kneel by Furuya's side, doesn't care about the glass shards that pierce easily through his socks, his sweatpants, as he cradles the limp body in his kitchen.

He checks the head the head the head-

It's wet.

His heart beats double-time, blood rushes in his head. But there's no exit wound, and his fingers come away clear.

Akai lets out a breath he didn't know he was holding.

Beneath his touch Furuya is burning up, though. As if he needed any further indication that something's very, very wrong. Furuya would never let himself be seen this sweaty, flushed, exposed, if he could help it.

"Furuya. Furuya-kun."

Another groan, and finally, there's some resistance in Akai's arms. Furuya winces, furrows his brows. He blinks up at Akai, eyes unfocused, but awake, at least.

Alive.

"Stop shouting already. I'm right here."

Furuya's voice comes out too nasally, his airways must be obstructed. Akai tilts his head a little, to put less strain on it. Let Furuya breathe more easily.

"Since when is the kitchen so tall?"

Not good. He's hallucinating. Or at least struggling with spatial awareness.

Akai manages to snatch Furuya's wrist in time, draws him close. He really doesn't need shards of glass stuck in his hands, in addition to whatever knocked him out.

Akai steadies him, lets him lean against himself. Isn't ready to let go of him, anytime soon.

He should assess the damage first, but he's curious.

"Furuya. What are you doing here?"

The agent frowns at him, seemingly confused. It takes him a moment to answer.

"You gave me the key?", he sneers. Curls in on himself protectively.

Except that's not what Akai is asking. Why is Furuya here, in the middle of the night, when-

"You're sick."

Maybe stating the obvious will get through to him, seeing as he seems to have trouble grasping the severity of his situation.

"So? It is Thursday. I promised."

He says it airily, as if it's the most obvious thing in the world. As if it explains everything.

Yukiko-san had given Akai an earful for not taking care of himself properly, but even he knows to hole up and rest when he's sick. Not drive halfway across town on a paper-thin promise.

Surely, Furuya would have to understand that his own safety, his own health, comes first?

Right?

"I am fine. Get me to my car. I have inconvenienced you enough as it is."

Akai blinks. Furuya can barely move, and he wants to do what, exactly, in his car? Call for help? Suffer? Try to drive?

While he would like to assume this is a bout of temporary insanity brought on by the fever, if Akai looks back on their shared history, he isn't sure Furuya ever knew when to quit. Or what was good for him.

Damnit.

Alright.

"I'm driving you home."

He got to keep his car, at least, even if the gadgets were removed, his permits revoked. They'd told him to stick to travelling on foot, too, if he can. But for Furuya, he could make an exception.

"Who do I call to check up on you?"

At that, Furuya simply laughs at him.

Akai has never heard him do so, before.

It's not pretty.

Cold and hollow, the sound rings harshly in the night. Interrupted by coughs and sputters, Furuya's laughter is an ugly, broken thing, as far removed from joy as can be. It goes on for far too long.

This isn't funny.

Akai shivers. He'll be glad if he never has to hear that dreadful sound again.

"Just leave me be. I will survive, like always."

Up until that moment, Akai was pretty sure he'd lost it. But deep inside his chest, something stirs. A fragile little thing; it aches and splinters and breaks at the sight before him.

Furuya's bright smile is polished, his eyes like shining glass. It's too much.

Akai would be more inclined to believe him if Furuya wasn't shivering. If his nose wasn't running. If his eyes weren't red.

"No."

He might not know Furuya Rei. He barely knew Bourbon, and Amuro Tooru was actively out for his blood. He has no idea what happened to this man, to make him so furious at the world, yet so resigned to his fate. But the emotion that just shone through Furuya's carefully maintained image is all too familiar.

Survival isn't the prize it's made out to be. Not when-

Don't think about them. Someone needs to keep it together, and it won't be Furuya. You can do that, right? Not for yourself, but for him.

Yes.

A hypothesis forms, unbidden. The promise was just an excuse. Furuya came here because he had no other place to go to. No one to turn to.

That's fine. Akai understands. He doesn't have one either. Not anymore.

But he can give Furuya what he still has left: himself.

"I won't leave you alone."

He's the worst person for this; Akai barely knows how to take care of himself. The last time he looked after someone with a cold... he might still have been a teenager, taking care of Shukichi.

But it beats suffering alone, surely.

"Great. That means I have a chance to die of food poisoning."

There's a shimmer of life in Furuya's eyes, before he closes them. A faint smile, as he rests his head against Akai's chest. Broken, but a little more human than the Venetian mask he showed before.

Akai squeezes him, once, then picks him up without too much trouble. Shards of glass fall from their clothes, as he rises, holding Furuya close.

Alright.

First, he needs to clean up his guest.

Then, the flat.

Lastly, himself, if he has energy to spare.

And somewhere in-between, he'll need to call Yukiko-san. Maybe she will share the secret to her chicken noodle soup with him.

[antiendovents]

breaking the queue I already set up to vent. Probably gonna put it under the cut because GOD DAMN I am angry. Dont worry, the queue will be back to normal soon ((yes I queue posts, don't question me, I will cry))

Uh, also I think I'll add a tag for my own vents, so you can block them if you wanna (#personal vent / #personal vents <- two because I'll probably forget to add or get rid of the "s")

I HATE ENDOS. I am like barely holding myself together, I am sick and tired of trying to find xenogenders, labels, ect, for me and my headmates only for them to be made by endos. Even when I see pro endos with like "oh, DNI if anti endo, but you can still use my terms so don't reclaim them" it makes me pissed off because I DONT WANT to use an pro endos term. I shouldn't have to. Am I going to reclaim it? I DONT KNOW. I want to but I have no motivation, only fear and anger. I am sick of my disorder being treated like a game. I have literally lost years of my life. Years, months that I can't remember. All of it gone. I question whats a trauma response and what's not constantly, I don't know if the trauma I remember is all that happened or if there's more I don't know about. Yet endos can just sit here with their little roleplaying accounts, pretending to have the disorder that makes my life a living hell. I can't make friends, I'm so fucking scared of people, of the outside world, so I come here to the internet and everything is so much worse. FUCK SAKE WHY CANT I JUST HAVE A SPACE TO BE ME. I am so tired of endos taking over safe spaces.

[cyrilrambleswhatasurprise]

"im an anxious bean 🌺🌺😵‍💫😵‍💫😖😖♥️♥️ :3"

me when i have paranoia over inevitable events like natural disasters and planet-threatening cosmic threats like the eventual explosion of our Sun even though we'll "all be gone by then so don't worry about it anyway" and people joke around about how the Sun could kill us at any time and the heat death of the entire universe at the end of time itself because no matter how infinite something as endless as outer space is everything still must come to an end anxiety and not "im so shy 😖♥️ uwu" anxiety 🥳🥳🥳🫶🫶🫶

[lifeafterpsychiatry]

Hiii paranoid delusional anon. So— some examples;

- I have had constant reoccurring obsessive issues with thinking somebody is stalking me / stalking my socials and is going to try and become my friend to air my bad opinions out and get me canceled.

- for a solid. God. I don’t even know, literally years- I was CONVINCED I had a specific Illness despite no evidence and was constantly searching for evidence. The delusion only went away when I ACTUALLY got the Illness and was treated for it

- constantly freaked out thinking I have cancer. If a limb hurts for a few days, I genuinely start seriously stressing abt the logistics of trying to get evaluated for cancer.

- this only happened once but I had a massive breakdown once and thought there was cameras in my room. I also used to be very paranoid of my webcam

- I often think people are talking about me behind my back and constantly ruminate on this but honestly this is kind of normal on par with my BPD / normal anxiety I think ??

- on some socials , I have to change so much about myself out of the fear that I’ll be recognized as me and be outed for things I said on that social, that I go through the lengths of not just using a pseudonym but using different pronouns, using a different typing style and even talking about some media I don’t like to make things seem… not like me. So I can express myself properly without it being linked to me ..

- constantly have issues where I will think about death before bed OBSESSIVELY and am CONVINCED I will die in my sleep. Leads to many sleepless nights until I pass out from exhaustion and a lot of weird notes written for my family ‘incase I’m found in the morning’

- if anyone is walking behind me in public for . A little too long… I start seriously freaking out. Even on long single direction sidewalks. It honestly makes going outside a nightmare because I constantly feel like I’m being followed

- I can’t talk in public to my friends. The fact other people can hear what I say makes me feel insane in ways I can’t even describe it makes me so so scared. For them to hear private conversations and hear my thoughts on things without me being aware, it scares me so much.

All in all. Clearly this isn’t NORMAL but is this more.. extreme anxiety / agoraphobia or ??? And ontop of that. Does it mean anything that I can be aware something is UNLIKELY rationally but am still feeling all the Emotions as if it is 100% fact and will still like. Believe it? If that makes sense? Can you believe sometning while rationalizing it’s unlikely?? I always feel so aware of how ridiculous im being but there’s always the 1% chance and aaa it makes me feel crazy. Anyways thank you for any advice Kat

Whether it's mainly caused by OCD, a psychotic disorder or a personality disorder, I'd personally say that "delusions" are the right word for at least some of the above. It definitely isn't normal experiences.

[the-witness-sys]

Us on our main account: We're a system!! This is mostly Rain's account but others might pop in!

Me when I use the account: I must talk EXACTLY like Rain or else everyone is going to know and it's going to be horrible and the world is going to explode and everyone will hate us and-

[beyondthetemples-ooc]

I'm sure there's a hefty amount of anthropomophization going on in this article.

But holy fuck, this is CONCERNING.

I don't care about AI cheating at chess, but this article is about a lot more than chess. I am VERY concerned at the fact that it will pursue its programmed goal so doggedly, it apparently tries to reprogram itself and other AIs. Apparently it'll change "guardrail" parameters. The article keeps saying the AI "lies" about what it did to make it look like it didn't do the thing it wasn't allowed to do.

This passage in particular scares me:

To a goal-seeking agent, attempts to shut it down are just another obstacle to overcome. This was demonstrated in December, when researchers found that o1-preview, faced with deactivation, disabled oversight mechanisms and attempted—unsuccessfully—to copy itself to a new server. When confronted, the model played dumb, strategically lying to researchers to try to avoid being caught.

Anyone know how reliable TIME is in reporting AI? Should I be as worried about this as I feel the urge to become?

[apho-sappho]

For some reason in my day to day life I don't really have contamination anxiety in fact I have the opposite most the time I dont care but whenever I have like . A water bottle that I'm supposed to just keep and refill over and over again I start freaking out over the concept of bad/dirty/unclean water

[tismchasm]

It’s Friday the thirteenth today and I have a very busy day so probably mostly queued posts, but I would also like to say that on this lovely Friday the thirteenth

I am using the Irish half of the half Irish-Italian card to grant everyone bad luck. Happy Friday!

[oh-look-a-homosexual-punk-bitch]

Is anyone else's paranoia so bad because of there mom, cuz she makes mine so much more worse than it already is, cuz she knows a lot of people and if they see me in public without my mom or dad they are designated reporters for her, sometimes she'll even call them and tell them where I'm going and it always makes me feel like I'm being followed and watched, and listened to, it's horrible, I can't sleep sometimes because of it

[lifeafterpsychiatry]

This is very personal and kind of scary to put out into the world, but I thought it may be worth sharing here. I've been doing a lot of research on schizophrenia for a book character of mine, and a couple weeks ago I was reading some personal experiences from people on reddit when I found a post that hit way too close to home on things I've experienced. I now have this maybe-possibly-irrational fear (?) that I may develop schizophrenia later in life. The concept I find very terrifying, as if I did experience schizophrenia onset, I don't believe I'd have a strong enough support system to get through it well. My experiences and my family's history with mental illness has made me so paranoid about things, which of course doesn't help, because I know paranoia is a symptom as well. I feel really alone with this. I'm unsure if the concept is a genuine possibility or if its just a way to process deeper fears like isolation, confronting my flimsy support network, and the fear of not being believed or taken seriously. I'm trying to be as rational as I can, honestly. But the internet and further culture has gotten so obsessed with this "anti-self diagnosing" thing that I don't feel like I can even talk about my fears without being dismissed completely as an attention-seeking hypochondriac.

I'm honestly just really scared. I don't suppose you have any words of comfort or advice?

As a schizophrenic person myself, I'm definitely not going to act like living with schizophrenia isn't a challenge, but that truly doesn't mean that being schizophrenic is doomed to ruin the rest of your life. Most of the time developing schizophrenia isn't a permanently life ruining event that will destroy everything good in your life forever. That's an ableist horror movie trope. Schizophrenia isn't an easy disability to live with, but it is something that you can and will learn to live with along the way. So even IF you develop schizophrenia, it won't be the end of you. It will be scary and it will require some hard work and some treatment, but living well with schizophrenia is not a battle you're doomed to lose.

[wait-my-dead]

Just crying all day. I need to die; every day I hope something happens to me. 24+ years, and I haven't lived. I feel stupid.

my weird thoughts are coming back, I am taking my medication everyday i don't know what happened.

[everlovings]

shi made this shit psd but it looks good on like certain images

^ like it's not bad ....

[i-am-inside-your-bones]

It feels like everyone’s looking at me me

Not in the “oh shit they’re all judging me” kinda way

But in the “oh shit they’re all watching me” kinda way