#tw; institutionalized abuse

[distinctlywhumpthing]

Leo reads Aiden's Intake Form

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Leo jumps when his phone vibrates against the countertop, a flat buzz like an insect trapped inside a jar. It’s only Delia, probably calling on her drive home to chat, but his chest tightens as he raises it to his ear. 

“Can you come outside?” She asks. 

“What? Why?” 

He’s expecting an annoyed tsk but instead, she just sounds tired. “Just come outside. Alone.”

If only for the reassurance of seeing Aiden content, Leo goes all the way upstairs to tell him he’s going to grab something from the van. 

Aiden’s lying on his stomach in bed playing on his Switch, feet kicking lazily in the air. When he sees Leo, his eyes flick around, like he’s checking to make sure his bed is perfectly made or he didn’t leave a stray sock beside the laundry basket. He waits until Leo’s in the doorway to sit up and put the screen aside, looking relieved as he does. Leo knows how much effort it takes every second he doesn’t snap to attention. 

He’s convinced Aiden will smell the lie on him but he just says okay and nods. No questioning gaze or hesitation. Aiden picks up his Switch again but keeps it resting on his lap. Hopefully just until Leo turns away and not until he’s closed the front door behind him.  

It rained earlier. The pavement, still holding the heat of the day, evaporates the water quickly, mist hanging just above the ground in the yellow cast of the street lights. Delia’s parked behind the cover of his van. His stomach tightens at her deepening subterfuge. 

Delia has the heat in her car cranked to the highest setting and it smells exactly like the hospital and peanut butter and jelly sandwiches. He wants to get out immediately. 

“So? What’s—” 

“Here.” She holds a piece of paper out to him. Right before he takes it, she pulls it back again. “I just want to say, for the record, that I wanted to take his number off this and destroy it. There’s a big chance most of this is made up and it’s only his place to tell anyway.” 

Delia finally meets his eyes, waiting. 

“What do you want me to say?” The backseat is absolute chaos. Scrubs and other clothes are strewn about. He counts no fewer than six water bottles and thermoses. And the cherry on top: half a loaf of bread—bag not fully closed—and peanut butter and jelly jars, complete with the knife she must have used to make her dinner, strawberry jam dripping onto the upholstery underneath. He sighs and forces his attention back to Delia. “I can’t know if I agree with you or not if I have no idea what you’re talking about.” 

“Fine, but I tried.” 

“Duly noted.” He means it earnestly but she rolls her eyes and reluctantly hands him the sheet of paper. His stomach is doing somersaults before he even starts to read. It’s a bad photocopy of a bad scan. The handwriting is fuzzy at best, the lines slanting across the page. He has to squint to read it. 

Handler. 

Committed. 

Revision. 

“What—”

Parents. 

Sedation and five-point restraint. 

Leo’s stomach churns. “What the fuck is this?” He holds it away even though he’s barely halfway through. 

Delia takes a deep breath. “The good news is that if we finally have his ID number, we can move forward with the paperwork for—” 

“Do not finish that sentence right now,” he grates. 

“Strictly as a means to an end,” she quickly adds. “You know it’s the first step—”

“Stop with the legalese. I already agreed to that. I want you to tell me what the fuck I’m reading.” His shirt is starting to stick to his back, he wants to rip off his jacket but the seat is too far forward in this stupid car. 

“It’s an intake form,” she says softly. 

“That is the easiest part to read.” He turns off the damn heat and the absence of noise rings in his ears. “Seriously, Delia. What does this mean? ‘Straight Paths’? ‘Committed by his…parents’?” 

“There are a lot of different ways into the System, it was designed that way. Criminals out of for-profit prisons, homeless off the streets, all the stuff you already know, but it goes deeper.” He can hear the venom, even through her clinical voice. “They have so-called treatment programs for alcoholism, addiction, and…well…straight paths.” 

He feels sick to his stomach. “For fuck’s sake.” 

“I know, it’s awful.” 

“What does ‘revision’ mean?” He isn’t sure he wants to know. 

“That’s the term they use for administering amnesics.”  

He forces a breath in. 

“But we already know that he has some—maybe even a lot—of his memories,” she rushes to say. 

“Memories of having ‘five-point restraints’ used on him?” He spits, making her grimace. “Where did you even get this?” He’s gripping the vile document so hard it shakes. 

Delia carefully extracts it from his fist. “One of Noah’s safehouse contacts has a contact at one of the facilities. They’ve helped in situations like this when we had no choice but to pull records. We only use it as a last resort because it’s so risky for everyone involved. The last time we did this it was a matter of life or death and we needed a medical file—” 

He’s not even listening anymore. All he can think about is Aiden, innocently playing video games upstairs. Comfortable, content. Now, Leo will have to face him with these fresh horrors in mind. Even if he tried, he’s not sure he could hide that he learned something new. But, like Delia said, this should have been his to share. He runs his hand over his hair. 

“I wish there had been another way,” he laments uselessly. He wishes he listened to her and never read any of it. “Are you sure it’s him?” 

“No…that’s the thing…” She swallows. “We’re going to have to ask him.” 

Leo shakes his head. “Jesus Christ, Delia. You know what it’s like for him every time we’ve tried. We can’t—” 

“I wouldn’t suggest it if there was an alternative. It’ll be different this time because he doesn’t have to try to say it or write it.” 

“But what if he still can’t recognize it?” He scrubs his hands over his face. “You said yourself the sequencing, the long number sequence—” 

She has to whisper it, “His conditioning should override any symptoms of his aphasia.” 

Leo gets out of the car, not even bothering to close the door behind him. He makes a beeline for the edge of the parking lot and vomits into the neat row of bushes there. 

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@octopus-reactivated @maracujatangerine @nicolepascaline @whumpy-writings @cracked-porcelain-princess

@meetmeinhellcroutons @briars7 @thingsthatgo-whump-inthenight @jo-doe-seeking-inspo @neuro-whump

@painsandconfusion @wolfeyedwitch @skyhawkwolf @haro-whumps @onlybadendings

@peachy-panic @fillthedarkvoid @rabass @crystalquartzwhump @dont-touch-my-soup

@mylifeisonthebookshelf @hold-him-down @guachipongo @creetchure @leyswhumpdump

@aseasonwithclarasblog @catawhumpus @magziemakeswhatever @pigeonwhumps

@batfacedliar-yetagain @whumpinthepot @dustypinetree @whump-in-progress @pirefyrelight

@whumps-and-bumps @i-eat-worlds @hellodecisionparalysis @heartfullofhoney

[compassionatereminders]

And to those who don't know, Paris Hilton was a victim of the Troubled Teen Industry in her late teens and spent literal years in horribly abusive institutions based on hard labor where the conditions LITERALLY killed people. So when she did her "lol I don't need to know what work is because I'm pretty" or whatever later on as a young adult, that was mainly because she wasn't ready to face that trauma publicly because she was literally forced to work her fucking ass off in the most literal physical sense of the word for years

[auschizm]

I was put on a pretty high dose of anti psychotics as a young teen (high enough to make anyone who takes it who hasn't developed some sort of tolerance to literally pass out within an hour and sleep for like, the next 12-24 hours), I wasnt diagnosed w any schizospec disorder (they just "suspected" schizophrenia on my file) because the clinic I was institutionalized in basically passed out anti psychotics like candy. At times like 70% of the ward was on them, but usually just 1 or 2 kids with an actual schizospec diagnosis. They just loved sedating us tbh.

Over the next like 8 years I kept going on and off anti psychotics, mostly the same one but mixing it up towards the end as well. What I found the worst (sort of, with some hyperbole. if you dont consider lasting neurological issues and some other wild dogshit it caused in my life over those years) is how uneducated every single psych I had was about the anti psychotics that they were Actively Prescribing People.

They didnt know common side effects including tardive dyskenesia, which I have to this day. I had to argue with them so theyd look up literature on it so they'd even believe my experience. They always were suspicious of me wanting to change my dose. They would make me switch meds without tapering the old one (?!), most of them never ordered the tests necessary to monitor your physical health while on anti psychotics (I forgot the names of the tests right now, oops)... often refusing to monitor me as i taper off of them because they didnt "agree" with it, finally one time my GP said he would monitor it. etcetc.

I dont really like... have a point to this. I just wanted to get this out for now.

I'm not even saying they dont help during phases of acute delusion (tho they never actually touch my 'long term' ones lol).. it's just that. At least here no psych seems to know what the fuck they're prescribing people anyways, so how the fuck am I supposed to trust them or work with them at all? I just gave up and have been unmedicated for a year now after tapering them myself as usual. I honestly dont miss it much at all.

I'm really angry you had to experience this. That the doctors who were supposed to help you did this instead. I can relate, and I'm sending my love and solidarity ❤️

[immortalvipers]

Ponder Your Way, Find Your Key

It is about time that children trapped in emotionally abusive environments take charge and bombard Child Protective Services (CPS) and demand change. CPS is incompetent and extremely unlikely to actually take charge in situations of emotional neglect. There are times where they even succumb to the manipulation of the abusers and deem the children as the problem. As people with personal experiences, we do not recommend turning to CPS if you are being emotionally abused. A post on Reddit phrased it beautifully. Click here for the link. While emotional abusive is important for CPS to take seriously and genuinely help the victims reach their goals, we highly suggest reading the comments on the post. It is valuable information to consider while fighting for childrens rights. There are plentiful discussions of possible solutions. Such as CPS workers to take extensive studies on emotional abuse and how the abusers are expert manipulators.

(the links to that research are included in the post)

As pointed out in the screenshot above, the abusers are helped to see their own actions and be enlightened to change their ways. However, the likelihood of redemption is depressingly low. The parents who refuse to change their ways in continuing occurrences need to be held more accountable. Many, many forms of emotional abuse are institutionalized. This needs to change. While you have every belonging to feel upset and enraged to fight for your progression, be wise in the steps that you will take to achieve It, but do not succumb to mental deterioration that comes your way. You are worth fighting for.

[please-picturemeintheweeds]

cw: historic psychiatric abuse, institutionalization, dentistry(?), WAOLOM

Was doing research for a work thing and was reading about a woman who was forcibly institutionalized and wasn’t “getting better” so they removed organs and did all sorts of other horrific stuff that didn’t “work” but the treatment that finally cured her was removing all her teeth, and she was sent home. And like!!!! Don’t you worry folks, we took out all her teeth!!!!!!! Just! it’s so visceral!!! And I love that in the song/album, it also has a double meaning of like taking the teeth out of an argument/case. And in the performance, it’s like she’s the ghost of all these women who were burned at the stake and tortured by the medical industrial complex and silenced in court, and all the people screaming along with her are like truly excorsizing some generational traumatic demons (like a dark Marjorie situation)

[polyamorouspunk]

You seem like a nice guy but probs a bit scary to get on your bad side. And you fight terfs so bonus points ig

I’m gonna say yes to that because I have bpd and I’m VERY good at manipulating people and gaslighting them and playing the blame game and it’s very easy for me to frame myself as the victim and anyone else as the “bad guy” and that spills out when I’m upset and a lot of times even “taking accountability for my own actions” feels like just a piece in my “games” if you will to make myself more credible. I’m not so much of a scary angry person so much as a I will make you cry and make you feel like you’re the one at fault while I’m bully you. I DON’T do that anymore, I do want to be clear about that, but before my bpd started to be treated I was a very shitty person who sometimes made people feel bad about themselves just from them disagreeing with me. However, yes, I have dissociated and done some violent things or said some violent things and I think that leans more towards “angry violence” stuff. I’ve had people fear that I was going to attack them with a knife and kill them legitimately so like yeah, I have Scary Cluster B Mental Illness That Makes Me Prone To Angry Outburts, but like, I am harmless really, like, I’m *not* going to stab someone in their sleep, it’s a lot of that misunderstanding like oh of course the girl with the scary mental illness is a serial killer! vibe which I embrace for the aesthetic.

[neuroticboyfriend]

ty for the “we don’t have to consider the dui ppl evil monsters forever.” This you can skip I think now if you don’t want a story of why your post is gonna change my life a little bit.

I have a owi from a boss getting drunk as hell with me and I very much went along with the evening for like idk stupid professional relations reasons I guess, and ended up in a ditch etc. I unfortunately received another dui after I was drinking at home in my backyard two years later sorta mid-meltdown, and after an exchange with an equally intoxicated neighbor was chased about 120 ft to my car which I drove to some neighbors (rural area) about 2 min away l, but literally got pulled over by the cops along that stretch as they kinda park-camp there.

My life was ruined. I was not well in jail for 90 days after the second one, as was denied anti-psychotics, sleep aids, and anti-depressants so stuck in a suicide suit and in solitary. I had worked for the state for a decade but no longer could, and I was stuck in the county that had no mental health services for me due to the limits of our CMH. I had to live with friends for two years of probation because I couldn’t drive or work without being able to drive. I did some wfh stuff during Covid (thank god wfh surge saved me tbh) but had to bike 10 miles each way or get a ride a couple times a week for drug tests, support meetings, classes etc for 2 years. I had to borrow money and pay ppl back years later for covering the costs of the drug tests and classes.

I had worked for the state for nearly a decade, graduated with a degree, had an apartment, boyfriend, the whole works: but I had no mental health access for a decade and had essential emergency services trying to toss meds at me, when I would ask to be hospitalized or finally was, and after about 7-8 years I was maladaptive as hell unable to get counseling or med management, drinking with bosses and melting down in my backyard.

I finally got mental health and other services: I have Tourette’s, autism, adhd, and ocd. And a nice helping of the cptsd but idk that one’s pretty managed. I have a bunch of broken teeth from clenching from stress and Tourette’s. The only help I got out of that county was Christian substance abuse services in classes that I had to do for probation for two years. I cannot imagine how different my life would be if I could have gotten the services the judge said I had complete access to.

I have never felt like anyone could be capable of understanding that I’m not a monster and I didn’t want to do anything bad. I understand very well why ppl are so aggressive against drunk driving as I’m in one of the worse states for it and we have some of the strongest laws for it. It’s a felony in Canada and I can’t go there anymore because of it. And it’s been idk 5 years now that I’ve never seen or heard a message like this and it is just so moving.

I’ve been holding myself back so much because I did a bad and I don’t feel like a deserve to like use social services or anything anymore like anything that could burden the state or community. I fell so far like possessions wise, asset wise, materially, professionally, in housing etc. that I need those services frankly. I don’t do things or try to interact with people, I’ve done like 5 years of shame vs regret exercises but it doesn’t matter I just don’t feel like I should get to be part of society and that no one wants me to be anymore. And I think if I saw things like this just once in awhile amongst the regular dui messaging it would be really great.

I do run a smart recovery meeting which is like science backed substance abuse program very much online nowadays but I want to do more but I’m still very in my head about it. I’m gonna try to think about this perspective from time to time. So thank you.

Anon I am telepathically giving the biggest hug ever, and if you dont want a hug then. I'm sending so much support and understanding your way. I'm so happy you found my post, especially since I've gotten a little bit of hell for it. Knowing it comforted just one person makes it worth it.

You're not a monster, and what the state did to you is not okay. It's inhumane, and you didn't deserve a single part of it. It's not even remotely fair that your right to health and safety was so grossly violated. And I'm glad you seem to be doing better than you were. I hope as time goes on, you find more of your place in this world.

I know things will never be the same, and I know how much stands in your way - even though I can't truly conceptualize it. But there will always be more people than you know who see see your humanity. Who want you in this world with us - not just tolerate it. And I think it's really wonderful you run the recovery program. You've probably changed a lot of lives, for the better. That's awesome!

And thank you for trusting your story with me. I've been struggling with some substance abuse lately, and I think getting this ask is gonna get me through another night of not. Fucking up. Sometimes people just need to feel connection, I think. So you changed my life a little bit, too.

[amalg-em]

I think about what the difference is between bad dogs and good dogs. They say there's no bad dogs, only bad owners. That it's all in how you raise them. But other people say some dogs are just broken. They didn't come out right and it's not their fault, but they can never be good.

I know I'm a bad dog. I was made to serve a purpose and I don't serve it. I snarl. I bite. I hear things that scare me and I turn into a reactive mess. No one can fix me now. I'm broken for sure.

But sometimes I wonder if I could have been a good dog. If someone had taken care of me. If the people who owned me and raised me had known what I really was, if they had put me where I fit. Maybe then I could've been a good dog. If someone had taken responsibility for me, had shown me how to be what I was supposed to be - would I have been good? Maybe I wasn't a mistake at the very beginning. Maybe somewhere there is a version of me that is a good dog. That is doing the job it was made for, that is taken care of, that is loved.

There should only be a cage for an animal like me. A cage and a quick, painless death. Humans taking ownership of and rectifying the mistake that allowed me to exist. I am a supposed to be a human, but I am not. I am just a bad dog. If someone could see that, then maybe they could show me mercy. There would be a gentle set of hands taking me to that back room. They would muzzle me first, probably. Once they injected me with the sedative and I was calm, they would soothe me, running soft hands over my fur. Perhaps they would comfort me with words before they injected me the final time. Perhaps they would say sorry. Sorry that humans didn't take better care of me. That someone allowed me to become so broken. That I was forced to keep existing in a world so hostile and painful, when there would never be any hope that I could get better. They'd stay with me to the end, until my heart finally stopped, bearing witness to the malformed, pathetic thing humanity had created, maybe even doing their part to set it right.

Everyone crosses the threshold alone, but some have company to see them to the door. It would be a comfort to have someone there with me. Someone for whom my death would not be an unspeakable horror, the last trauma I managed to inflict in my brief, meaningless life. They would not be tormented by flashbacks of my lifeless body. They might even feel gratitude instead - gratitude that they were allowed to serve such an important role for someone else. Through their presence, they'd ensure I wouldn't have been meaningless, wouldn't be forgotten.

I am a bad dog, through and through. So that won't be my fate. I don't want to be bad, so I will try to find somewhere hidden to lay down and die. Someplace where the scavengers will erase me before anyone finds my body. No one will have to see me die, and no one will have to remember that I lived. There will be no witnesses, no comfort, no reassuring hands to ease my way.

I am a bad dog, so maybe I won't succeed. Maybe my last action on this earth will be to inflict my death on someone else. To make someone else responsible. To step in front of someone else's car, to leave my disgusting body where someone would have to find it. To torture a series of people with the collection, analysis, identification, and disposal of my shame. They will have to call someone who knew me in life. Who saw me snarl and snap. And they will have to look into my dead face with recognition, if it's intact enough - another meaningless pile of roadkill meat. And they will say, yes, that's him. He's finally dead. - as if death could free me or them from the horror fate has ordained.

The only way I will be remembered is with that rictus grin. That twisted posture. Bones and flesh leaping through the skin where they should not. If anyone remembers my face, it will be like that. That deathly image. A too accurate representation of what I was in life: a tragic mistake. The bad dog that should not have been. That would have been prevented had someone spayed and neutered when they should. That would have been better put out of its misery as a pup, or a juvenile, before it grew into a monster with such big teeth and no qualms about using them. A vicious predator without even the tempering balance of nature, mangy, ribs showing, covered in scars that healed pointlessly. This beast will not bear young to pass on its legacy - be thankful.

And in the place where its womb should have been there is only an empty pit, hungering, yearning, with such force as to create a gaping void. A tumor in reverse, draining all the life around it. They will not see the hole in my flesh when they find me. They won't able to recognize the mercy I've granted both myself and them. A world free of me, of my vile and intolerable form, and the abominations I would've given birth to. Instead they will curse my name, call me a coward, for having forced them to acknowledge me in death. I was always an ugly thing. They were always going to hate me for making them see me. But a dead body is so much worse, you see, and it doesn't matter that my existence was a wrong that needed to be righted. It was never about me. I never deserved to live, to feel, to be taken care of, and I never deserved to die. If I had any good in me at all, I would have simply vanished instantaneously, erasing myself from everyone's memories.

But I am not good and never was. I am a bad dog.

[hollowwhisperings]

reblogging, again, for the Arkham Meta.

The "Batfamily" was probably my first Western fandom: Cassandra Cain was the FIRST comics character I met who I could personally identify with & Gail Simone's Oracle was one of the first examples of UNfridging marginalized characters, of successfully saying "actually, SCREW excessive violence against women for male angst & SCREW anyone who thinks disability is equivalent to death".

but I have NEVER been comfortable with how Arkham Asylum is used in the DCU: there have been moments where it has been used for genuine treatment & rehabilitation, things like Bruce visiting or otherwise staying in contact with Harvey Dent during the latter's entering the facility. There has been SOME exploration, in supplementary works & within the fandom, of how Harley Quinn is a LEGITIMATELY TRAINED PSYCHIATRIST and how effed up her life was by Arkham (& by the Joker).

but, mostly, Arkham is used to trigger every fear and real life horror story that the past (& present) mental health system carries and to paint "DANGER!" over anyone vaguely connected to said system. Phobias, personality disorders, extreme trauma, abuse from medical professionals, systemic violence against the mentally ill and those coded as neurodivergent... Arkham ignites every Scare Tactic that keeps people from seeking help, reinforces every fear about what kind of "help" might be received, every nightmare about how society at large views anyone who doesn't "Get Better" with a prescription & 3-weeks of talk therapy.

The Gotham Rogues Gallery get two options for "care": prison or Arkham. The prison is Safer. There are times where the likes of Riddler, Harley & Poison Ivy see out their stays at Arkham and reintegrate with Society (the Gotham City Sirens series, for example), often making a Point of showing how unwelcoming Society is to ex-cons & publically Outed patients (and how much "easier" it is to just... go back into a cycle of [repeat offending], if only to regain access to some sense of "stability"/Actual Healthcare).

but... mostly? the times of "okay, let's actually Look at mental illness & how it impairs day-to-day life, how trauma shapes us, how social stigma-" "NOPE, TIME TO BE EDGY AND LET JOKER MURDER A BUNCH OF PEOPLE THEN GET AWAY WITH THE INSANITY CLAUSE!"

the Arkham video games are VERY MUCH consistent with how mainstream it is to ditch compassion and what progress may have been made for IRL stigma so that the Terror of Asylums can be used as easy set dressing for Horror.

nevermind that IRL mental health systems STILL haven't quite figured out how to deal with Long-Term Patients beyond sticking them in [more humane] Institutions, or how disproportionately the media depicts Mentall Illness as "dangerous to society" when the REVERSE is true (SOCIETY is dangerous to the mentally ill: cops getting called on people dissociating or having panic attacks, cops Freaking Out and HURTING the people most vulnerable to violence & abuse).

Batman & the BatFam, for the most part, are compassionate and see the humanity hidden behind Hurt and, for Gotham's Rogues Gallery, that "Harm" DOES tend to be directed "Outward" rather than "Inward" as in IRL & thus Affects Bystanders (typically through entirely Fictional methods): I love the Batman comics, many if its Rogues Gallery, and the silliness that can happen but... Arkham and the imagery of mental illness as something inherently "dangerous" to OTHER PEOPLE is just Not Fun anymore.

fandom fills in for some of that Need for accountability (for reeducating the public, for looking at things from the Patient's POV, for unravelling the mythos of "Arkham Asylum" from the IRL history it takes from, "history" that is still FAR too recent for comfort) but... ultimately, Arkham Asylum's depictions have less to do with Batman and more to do with the disinterest of the masses to engage with the realities of ANY long-term Illness (mental and otherwise) beyond a Token Charity Week or a month's News Cycle Hashtag.

[compassionatereminders]

Also about the first comment I just wanna spell out that I am not "some ableist pinning my reality on fear-mongering social media posts", I am a schizophrenic who has been institutionalized for a decade and everything I say about psychiatry is based in THAT and not on reading online discourse or whatever

[twcfaces]

i've definitely made notice of this before, but like- i can't express just how deeply two-face is entwined with harvey dent, and how the cycle of harvey feeling guilt over what two-face has done actually causes two-face to surface again, because he literally can't handle it otherwise.

two-face is his trauma response, and has been, since he was a kid who needed to escape the reality that was his father alternating his abuse and his love. kids don't comprehend that it's impossible to become someone else, and neither did harvey. he just did it.

and what if he is cured? what if two-face doesn't come back? what's going to protect him when it hurts too much? where will he hide? where will his teeth go if he doesn't bite?

[auschizm]

Do you like living in a group home? What’s your experience been like?

No. I've lived in three very different group homes over a period of nine years, and I have yet to have a good or even decent experience. The first place I lived we had no personal freedom or autonomy. We plain weren't allowed to participate in activities/maintain relationships outside the group home. We weren't even allowed wifi. Or privacy. And inappropriate use of overmedication was frequently used to silence and control our unhappiness. The second place I lived we were free to do basically anything we wanted, but the neglect was so severe that I lived in filth and starved to the point of being clinically underweight the entire time. I even ended up with a big debt because no one helped me with anything ever. Where I'm living now I have my own apartment and a decent amount of both privacy and autonomy for the first time, but I'm still receiving close to zero support and the one time I went to the group home for help during a hard time they doubled the max dose of my antipsychotics so that I lost an entire year to a completely irresponsible dosage of medication. And the only reason I'm not also starving and living in filth here is because I have gotten better at taking care of myself, because I'm still not receiving any consistent help and support. So while at first I thought I might just have been very unlucky with my placements, by now I'm sure I have nothing good to say about Danish group homes.

[accessible-tumbling]

ID: A screenshot of tags reading: "i have friends who survived ECT. like. i still have friends [caps] Today [caps end] who were abused with ECT within the past five years also. look up the judge rotenburg center and stoptheshock. tw for medical abuse and medical torture honestly. still happening [caps] Today [caps end] to tons of autistic kids and adults. also in terms of lobotomies: its more likely new types of 'psychosurgery' that still happen instead of traditional lobotomies.

anterior capsulotomy is like one example of a type of psychosurgery that still happens today although i still do know cases of people being threatened with lobotomies like. within the past five years. institutionalization tw electroshock tw"

End ID.

Killing people with no grasp of recent medical history with hammers

[5starwitch]

Astrology Observations: Aspects

**None of these placements mean that you are doomed or this is exactly how your life will play out. These are simply my interpretations of these placements based on looking at many different charts. Nothing is set in stone and you can always use different aspects to your advantage even if they are squares or oppositions**

Venus trine/sextile/conjunct jupiter blesses a person with conventional beauty. Harsh aspects to jupiter, like squares or oppositions, still blesses a person with beauty but may cause a person to still have insecurities or not see their own beauty. These people may have darker features or be an unconventional beauty. Both types of aspects may make a person more susceptible to weight gain.

Neptune square saturn can indicate addiction and can make it a challenge for a person to overcome. This placement may not even realize they have a problem.

Mercury sextile venus can grant someone with a beautiful voice and can even make someone a good singer.

TW: Venus square neptune can cause relationships where you might enable each others vices and addictions. Similar to venus square mars, there is also a potential for abusive relationships.

TW: Saturn square neptune can indicate that a person may have had a tumultuous childhood, in which one or both parents were absent. Their parent(s) could have been institutionalized, in prison, or on drugs. This could also indicate that they dealt with abuse/SA.

Neptune aspecting jupiter can indicate addiction but it can also grant a person with so much creativity. They may be talented at making art, music, or movies.

Venus sextile/trine chiron grants one with the ability to heal others and be incredibly compassionate. They are very intuitive to the feelings of others and being with them in romantic or platonic relationships is very healing to others.

Moon conjunct jupiter makes a person very optimistic and jovial. Their energy is very uplifting to be around. They may be a little naive so people might try to take advantage of them.

Mars square/opposite jupiter gives a person a lot of energy, sex drive, and sex appeal. They might be restless or not know what to do with all their energy.

Mercury opposite or square saturn makes a person intelligent but its hard for them to communicate their ideas and thoughts to others. So others may assume that they’re dumb. They also may have dealt with learning disabilities or delays in their speech.

Moon sextile/trine/conjunct neptune makes a person very talented creatively and they create their best work when their emotions are heightened. This placement also indicates someone who is spiritually and psychically gifted.

Venus aspecting uranus indicates a person having a unique type of beauty.

[potstism]

❤️‍🩹 my take on a PMDD (premenstrual dysphoric disorder) flag 🧠

clipart .png credit

i had been waiting from months to a year to see someone design a flag for PMDD since i'm not very confident in my own ability, so i decided to go ahead and bite the bullet with an attempt. this is currently planned to just be a draft and may be subject to change with new updated versions in the future.

TW FOR MEDICAL TRAUMA/ABUSE: although this topic is not very widely discussed, or at least doesn't seem to be commonly present, online among the disabled community, my personal experiences with PMDD have made acknowledging its existence as well as its consequences quite necessary to me. as of the time of writing this, i am 19 years old, and when i was 15 exactly this time of year (as well as the first similar incident a couple months prior), i had an intense hyper-emotional episode the week before my period that was so bad i ended up getting institutionalized at a psych ward against my will and have never been the same since. for years now, i've been on a birth control pill that suppresses my cyclical hormones and prevents my period from occurring most of the time.

before getting into the stripes' meanings, there are two factors to explain behind my thought process:

dark teal is considered to be the awareness color for this disorder, although i went with a light aqua color because i think it looks better with the pink, and it's in the same family so i believe it still works.

pink is meant not to represent femininity necessarily since uterus-owners can come in many different gender expressions, but rather fit with the vibe of internal organs, especially since pink is closely related to red which is how warm blood appears (and is a key element of uterine cycles).

as for the stripe meanings, here is my proposal for each single word:

awareness ─ suffering from premenstrual dysphoric disorder is a very real thing that happens to müllerian individuals everywhere. according to the cleaveland clinic, which i am an active visiting patient of, about 10% of people with our reproductive body types who are at least of minimum pubescent age may be affected by it. although it does not tend to be a risk toward physical health, it is often a deadly threat to our mental state and well-being, which can lead to suicidal ideation.

strength ─ i consider this to be an invisible disability, with most of the symptoms taking place within our internal worlds and fighting a constant battle with negative thoughts + emotions. in addition to this, physical symptoms also arise and can cause severe discomfort before menstruation even begins. all of this happens within the confines of our own homes, and we tend to suffer through it alone. people who do not have PMDD probably fail to realize how strong we have to be in order to get through this difficult time repeatedly & endlessly, despite their well-intended efforts.

diversity ─ this is intended to have multiple meanings, and to include anything i may not have come up with so far. for one thing, there are plenty of different experiences to be had with this disorder, such as varying levels of cramping + sickness or depression + anxiety. on another note, not only do our bodies each work differently (some may also have endometriosis and/or PCOS, which are also intersex conditions, as a double-whammy), but many of us do not conform to societal ideas of gender despite all having these parts in common. there are infinite possibilities to mix & match with presentation & identity, which is not limited by biology.

flesh ─ although many factors are involved in this process, including hormones, PMDD centers around the uterus, which is an internal organ. the flesh represents the physical aspects of this experience, and how we must take great care of our bodies in order to ease how we feel.

pain ─ there is so much physical + mental pain that builds around this disorder, which deserves to be recognized, sympathized with, and treated. the deep pink (to me) somewhat resembles what ibuprofen & benadryl pills look like; painkillers & antihistamines respectively (i'm not sure if anyone else needs the latter, but my skin's condition gets really reactive when i go through my cycle).

anyone is free to reblog/use accordingly, although you may have to be mindful of permission/credit with the uterus imagery from the source!

tagging for reach (it may not fit your gimmick exactly, so feel free to ignore if you're uninterested, or reblog somewhere else!): @idwl @satyrradio @spaghettimakesflags @obnebulant-mogai @caeliangel @intervex @arco-pluris @beyond-mogai-pride-flags @radiomogai @themogaidragon @neopronouns @mad-pride @disabilitypride

[quinngefail]

So apparently at 19 Lawrence got institutionalized for 6 months from a psychotic breakdown. I’m pretty sure it’s mentioned in one of the video games. Do you think he’d tell Adam about it? How you you think adam would react? (Also why do you think he even had a breakdown?) love you!!! 🩷

Omfg okay okay I haven't played either of the games yet but I intend to. I did not know about that little bit of lore, though..... But tbh it slides in so perfectly with what I've been formulating for backstory headcanons,

I haven't actually written any of this out in my Google doc yet but. I feel like rambling and just laying out the relevant parts of what I've been brainstorming for him-

Putting a cut because this got longer than I thought it would. Also- tw for talks of emotional abuse, alcoholism, and a brief sui mention- nothing super detailed, though.

So uh. I've been imagining him growing up in this wealthy, very controlling, catholic household. And even from a young age it was extremely rare for his parents to even glance at any of his problems.., One part because they were absolutely the types to guilt him with the whole "THERE ARE CHILDREN IN AFRICA STARVING AND YOU'RE SITTING HERE CRYING ABOUT SOMETHING THAT IS SO TRIVIAL" and another part because I imagine his mother was diagnosed with cancer when Lawrence was just a kid. Which was hard on everyone, of course, but this also meant less attention being put on him and his problems (ft. more guilting because you should be grateful that all you have is a scraped knee, stop crying). Basically the response to any of his struggles would very often be Stop Moping and/or Go Pray About It y’know-

Sooo even at a young age, he quickly developed this mindset that none of his problems were actually 'real', because he had it drilled into his head again and again that he was in a far more fortunate + blessed position than others. Which yeah obviously he had a great deal of privilege on his side from the get-go, but he's still allowed to express hurt and his need for love and care, y’know,

So he just starts repressing everything, holding it all inside. Internally minimizing and invalidating just about anything that made him upset. He does this for years, and years. And by the time that first year of college rolls around, he now has the most independence in his life that he's ever had, finally away from that very, very controlling household... And I very much imagine him as the type to just go off the rails almost immediately, especially in the drinking department. His grades rapidly slip, and he knows there will be hell to pay when his parents inevitably find out about all of this- but it's easier to just sit back and drink, and let his cares about everything slip away.

And of course, his parents do indeed find out. And there is indeed hell to pay. More so from his father, though, as his mother's condition has been rapidly deteriorating, which was certainly just one of the many motivators for Lawrence's drinking. And it's not long before she does pass away, which I think was a final straw of sorts for his mental health.

Between the bottles and bottles of repression he's been holding in for years, the drinking, the fact that he's fucked up so badly with college + absolutely fuckin wasted an amount of time and money, the sheer outrage and disappointment from his parents, his mother's death, and the shattering of his already shaky faith (because evidently, praying for his mother's health didn't do a goddamn thing)... It's a wonder he didn't break sooner,

So then this is where him being institutionalized just SLIDES IN SO EASILY... And I do think right before this happened, he had attempted to take his own life, unable to deal with it all. The treatment helps him back onto a straight path. And maybe he'd already been interested in the medical field, but the loss of his mother was sort of the final push towards wanting to pursue oncology specifically. So after being released, it's college take two: and it goes far better than the last time.

However, he develops this fear of losing control again. He finds comfort and necessity in order. He almost needs it to feel okay. He still has a hard time voicing and downplaying his problems, though, still feeling like they're not 'real'... This being a particular souvenir from growing up that he just can't seem to overcome.

He's also not at all surprised to get a call (in either his late 20s or early 30s) that his father had drank himself to death. Just seemed inevitable.

Then, to cut to the Becoming Closer With Adam Era, I don't imagine he has a hard time explaining that both of his parents have passed away, and why. But he has a very hard time disclosing everything else that happened. Because his problems aren't 'real', of course, and it's just an extremely touchy subject for him in general. Been imagining for a while now that he has this whole Thing where he's far more focused on helping Adam with his own problems- and y’know, part of that is just the fact that when they finally reunite in my AU, Adam is obviously deeply in need of help, because things have gotten bad for him in the months following the bathroom trap. But another part is just Lawrence still having troubles with expressing his own struggles; whether they be traumatic incidents of the past, or the more current Jigsaw related traumas.

Adam eventually catches onto this, especially as his problems become less urgent. And while he's not necessarily going to interrogate Lawrence over anything, he does begin to more frequently urge him to talk about things when he's obviously upset. Lawrence still isn't as good at masking as he thinks he is, much to his dismay. Something specific that I imagine Adam reminding him, with a earnest voice of kindness and patience, is that "this isn't just about you helping me, it's about me helping you, too."

Lawrence does eventually start to open up more about his more current struggles, but it takes a good, long while before he begins scratching the surface of that period of his life. They would be upsetting conversations for the both of them, of course, but the fact that they happen at all are just testaments to the trust they've built together. They feel safer and safer being vulnerable with one another, and it brings them closer together.

And maybe, it brings them closer and closer to things finally just feeling okay.

...WOOH If you are here, thank you for reading- didn't think I was going to ramble this much, but EVIDENTLY I HAVE MORE THOUGHTS ON THIS THAN I REALIZED LMAO..... WHEN I SAY I HAVE A SMALL NOVEL WORTH OF THOUGHTS ABOUT THESE TWO I'M NOT LYING HRKSKGK

A lot of this is also still in the brainstorming stage at this point, so things may be subject to change :] WE SHALL SEE...

And thank you for the ask, and the kind words!!! I hope you enjoy my brainrot HSKGK