#why is it so hard to take my antidepressants

[siveine]

i think im so nervous about finishing my contract because i wont know what to do with myself afterwards. like, sure theyve forgotten about me and nearly abandoned me, and im quite literally being used then thrown away, but after i get my discharge papers im going to be without purpose again and i dont know if i can do it a second time

[birlwrites]

WELCOME BACK BIRL!!!!! i've missed seeing you on my dash!! i really love when you answer asks, i feel like it helps make your bcu feel so much more full and i love reading what you have to say <3<3

THANK YOU!!!! yeah i really needed the break afjslghsdkjf, i was stressing myself out so much with trying to grind out fic and stay on top of my inbox and i was also just like, exhausted from work, and tbh i was getting worried that if i kept trying to force myself to Create Content™ i'd burn out and not want to work on any of my stories anymore

so!! took a break from asks, took a break from ttdl (which was actually more just to finish lachrimae, but i do think that having an Unplanned Hiatus was good for me bc it reminded me that this is not my job and i can hit the pause button whenever i want ajfslhkhgkjsdf), got some breathing room, and then today i felt ready to be back so! here i am!

[running-in-the-dark]

as someone who has always had issues with sleeping, it's so strange to see how my husband can just fall asleep whenever he wants, wherever he wants. he could lie down on the ground and sleep for 8 hours, no problem.

he just goes to bed, lies down, and falls asleep. and then stays asleep until his alarm wakes him, then he gets up and is just. awake. just like that. he never remembers any of his dreams, he just sleeps. all night. uninterrupted.

it's just. very weird. I mean, I had a lot of sleepovers with friends when I was a kid, so I guess I already knew other people can just. sleep. but still, I guess I always figured it must be a coincidence that everyone else just happened to fall asleep and stay asleep on those occasions. but damn it's been 10 years of seeing this dude just sleep like it's no big deal, and I suppose that's just. how it's meant to be?! how unfair is that.

[munson-blurbs]

Eddie Munson x fem!Reader

Summary: When you confide in your boyfriend about your difficulty getting wet, his reaction is not what you'd expected.

Warnings: smut (18+ only, minors DNI!), fingering, oral (f!receiving), unprotected p in v (wrap it up), reader takes antidepressants

A/N: To all the afab folks who, for whatever reasons, can't get wet--this is for you.

Collaboration with the queen of fluffy smut, @corroded-hellfire 😘

--

“Feel good, baby?” Eddie growls in your ear, his fingers digging into the skin above the waistband of your panties. His other hand cups your breast, still concealed by your bra, though you venture it won’t be long before it’s uncovered. 

You continue grinding on his bare thigh, his boxers pushed up high. The outline of his cock shows through the cotton, and you can’t help but grab it. He inhales sharply at the sudden contact, making you giggle.

“Love seeing you all turned on, Eds,” you murmur, sucking a bruise into his neck that has his eyes rolling back in his head. He moves his hand from your waist to your clit, pressing slow circles to the sensitive bud over the lace. A moan slips past your lips, quickly turning into a whimper of his name. “F-Fuck, Eddie. Right there.”

Despite your words and the drag of your cunt on his leg, Eddie can’t help but question whether or not you’re faking it. “How ya feelin’ baby?” he whispers, tiptoeing around the more direct question in a means of cushioning his ego. 

“So good.”

Okay. Good. You feel so good. Everything’s…good. Right?

Eddie pulls back, ducking behind his hair and missing your confused expression. “We can stop if you’re not into it,” he mutters. He’s not angry at you; he’s angry at himself, because he’s clearly doing something wrong if you’re not…

“Wh-Why wouldn’t I be into it?” Your eyebrows pinch together. You’d been together a few months and hadn’t slept together yet, but you’d thought tonight could be the night.

“Because you’re not really…” Eddie struggles to find the right words. “Like, you sound into it, but I don’t feel you getting turned on.”

Embarrassment heats up your body. You slide off of him and onto his carpeted floor, repositioning yourself so you’re facing away from him. You can still see him out of your peripheral vision, but you hope he doesn’t notice the tears welling in your eyes. “M sorry, baby.” Your voice is small, and despite your best efforts, it catches in your throat when you speak.

He rests his hand on your upper arm, gently caressing it with his thumb. “Hey, hey,” he says softly, trying to hide his disappointment at the unreciprocated longing. “We gave it a shot. You can’t help if this doesn’t get you going.” He gives a little shimmy, shoulders swaying back and forth clumsily.

You turn back around towards him,  “You think…no, Eds. You’re so sexy, even when you do your weird little dances.”

“I’ll have you know,” Eddie starts, giving you a playful look, “that my weird little dances have gotten me not one, but…yeah, okay, just the one hot girl’s phone number.”

“And it was mine.”

“Yeah, yeah.” He reaches for your hand and holds it tentatively. “But if I’m making you feel good, how come you don’t get…y’know…?”

Instinct has you wanting to turn away from him in shame, but his grip on your hand is enough to keep you where you are. It’s hard to meet his eyes, but once you do and that big doe stare tugs at your heart, you let out a sigh.

“You’re making me feel amazing, Eddie. It’s just…I don’t really get…I mean, I can’t get too…” The right words don’t seem to find you and frustration balls up inside of you. You slap your free hand over your eyes, partially out of frustration, but also to hide the tears that are beginning to well up. 

“Hey…” Eddie lightly chides as he rubs his thumb along the back of your hand. “You can talk to me. You know that.”

The hand falls from your face and you take a deep breath. Words jumble through your brain, trying to figure out how to come from another direction. “Y-You know how I have depression and anxiety.”

“Yeah.”

“Well,” you say, swallowing before continuing, “the meds they give me for them…they, uh…well, they kind of keep me from being able to get…”

“Wet?” Eddie offers.

You nod, a few tears breaking free despite your attempts to keep them in. 

“I can…a little…just not a whole lot. I’m sorry.” 

Eddie frowns and shakes his head. “Why are you apologizing?”

“Because,” you say, huffing a humorless laugh, “you’re so cute and sweet and I’m worried that when we actually have sex, it won’t feel good for you.”

He pauses for a moment, tongue poking out from his lips in the way that makes you melt as he reaches into his nightstand and pulls out a bottle of lube. He holds the small pink tube up between the two of you.

“Think this’ll work?” he asks.

You raise an eyebrow in amusement. The bottle is the last thing you expected Eddie to pull out of that unorganized mess he calls a nightstand. 

“Where did you get that?” you ask.

“Well, uh,” Eddie starts, cheeks tingeing pink. You notice he continues to look at the lube instead of you. “I use it every night when I think of you.”

The words take you by surprise, even though he’s your boyfriend. It’s not like you hadn’t gotten off thinking about him long before the two of you even started dating. 

“You…you think of me?”

“Well, yeah,” Eddie shrugs with a grin. “My girl is ridiculously beautiful, you think I’m not going to get off thinking about her every night before I go to bed? And most mornings before school?” He ducks his head and his bashfulness makes him look especially boyish. “Plus, there was all that time before we started dating when we were just friends…”

“So that’s why it’s more than half empty,” you say, a small smile breaking through on your lips. 

“I prefer to think of it as half full.” Eddie’s roguish smile has you breaking out into a full blown grin. You let out a chuckle as you pluck the bottle from your boyfriend’s fingers. 

“I didn’t peg you for a strawberry kind of guy, Munson.”

Eddie looks down with a shy expression on his face. Every time you make him flustered you take it as a personal victory.

“It’s, uh, it’s ‘cause it smells like your chapstick.” He leans up and presses a kiss to your nose. When he sees the effect that has on you, mischievousness creeps back onto his face. “What do you say…wanna give it a try?”

You exhale, still frustrated. The anxiety at the back of your brain is still saying that Eddie is just being nice about this. That he really thinks it’s weird and doesn’t want to have sex with you now.

“Are you sure you’re okay with this? With being with someone who needs to use lube?” you double check.

Eddie looks at you with an incredulous expression. “Baby, I’d use WD40 if it meant being inside you.”

A snort of laughter escapes you and you lightly slap his chest.

“Eddie, I’m serious!”

“I am, too! Shit, I’ll go grab some Crisco from the cabinet right now—”

“Eddie!” You sigh. “I know you’re going to wanna have, like, spontaneous sex. That might not be something I can do if we don’t have lube.”

Eddie shrugs without missing a beat. “I’ll carry it around with me. Like pocket lube or something.”

“Pocket lube?” you ask, raising an eyebrow. 

He laughs, stroking your cheek with his thumb. “We can keep this one here, and I’ll buy another one for the van. How does that sound?”

The offer has your heart melting and you lean into his body. “Sounds like you’re the best boyfriend in the world.”

“Baby, you ain’t seen nothing yet,” he smirks, tugging gently at the waistband of your panties. “May I lube up the fair maiden?”

“As long as you promise never to say that again,” you say, already climbing onto his bed. 

“Noted,” he agrees with a laugh before turning his attention to the panties that block his view of your beautiful pussy. He drags the lacy fabric down your legs and tosses it aside as you unclasp your bra. A goofy grin spreads across his face as he takes one breast in each hand. “Sorry,” he says, though his tone has no ounce of apology, “but you can’t just show off your tits and expect me to focus on anything else.”

You roll your eyes and giggle, a fluttering feeling in your stomach that goes beyond the moment’s lust. The way he can make you laugh in your most vulnerable moments is special, and you want to capture this joy and keep it forever.  

“Lay back and open these pretty legs for me, Sweetheart.” Eddie squeezes out some lube onto the tips of his forefinger and middle finger, gently pumping them in and out of you, going a bit deeper each time “‘S good?”

“Mhm. So, so fucking good, fuck.” Your walls clench around his fingers in a silent plea for him to be buried deep inside you. 

“Tell me if you need more, okay baby doll?”

You nod, really only able to fixate on the way his fingers feel inside you. The addition of the lubricant removes any unwanted friction, and you moan louder than you intend to. 

“Your noises…holy fuckin’ shit.” Eddie muses, palming himself over his boxers. 

You squeeze your eyes shut in embarrassment. “‘M sorry.”

He pauses his movements, drawing a whimper from your lips. “Don’t ever apologize for making such beautiful sounds. It’s crazy hot, baby.”

“Really?”

He uses his free hand to grab your wrist, bringing your palm to his tented boxers. The fabric strains against his raging erection. 

“Really.”

With that, you let yourself fully indulge in the feeling of his fingers. You barely recognize the noises you’re making; you’ve never felt this good in your whole life. 

The way Eddie’s tongue pokes from his mouth gives you another idea, and you press your thighs together to stop his ministrations. 

He looks up at you, brows knitted together in confusion. “What is it, baby? More?” He starts to reach for the bottle until he sees you shake your head. 

“Do you, uh, w-wanna taste the lube?” It’s as straightforward as you can manage, still overwhelmed by the pleasure washing over your body. 

Eddie’s cock twitches, his face contorted in amused disbelief. “Are you seriously asking me if I want to eat you out?” he asks. “Was it not obvious that that would be a yes?” 

He throws your legs over his shoulders so quickly that it has you laughing in surprise, but that laughter stops as soon as his mouth is on you. His tongue immediately finds your clit, flicking over it until your toes curl. He wraps his lips around it and sucks gently until he has you on the brink of orgasm. His fingers return to your needy hole, filling you expertly until you cum with a wanton moan. 

“So fucking good f’me,” Eddie says, still between your legs. His mouth and chin are covered in a slick sheen. “You wanna taste now, baby? Wanna know just how delicious you are?”

You open your mouth and eagerly accept his fingers. They taste of your arousal and a hint of strawberry; it does bear a striking similarity to your Chapstick. Once Eddie lets his fingers drop from your mouth, you’re whining and writhing below him. 

“Need you, Eds.” It sounds more like a whimper than a plea. But your beautiful boyfriend isn’t about to deny you a thing—let alone something that he also wants very badly. 

“Fuck, need you too, baby doll.” He launches his boxers across the room and smears some lube on his cock, bucking his hips slightly into his closed palm. He doesn’t break eye contact as he enters you, searching for any inkling of discomfort. The stretch is delicious, and you arch your back once he bottoms out. 

“Look at you, taking all of me. My good girl,” Eddie growls, watching his cock disappear into your cunt. “Holy shit; I can’t believe you’ve been hiding this perfect pussy from me.”

You shiver at the praise, blinking away the prickling tears on your lash line. 

Eddie gradually picks up the pace, snapping his hips into you. His pubic hair grazes yours and he lets out a groan of his own. 

“Could stay like this forever,” he mumbles in your ear, forearms braced on either side of your head. 

So could you. Except…

“Eds?”

“Hmm?”

You swallow your timidness. I can trust him. “I think, um…could you use some more lube?” You’re embarrassed and annoyed at yourself for having to interrupt the moment, but Eddie’s unfazed. 

“Sure. Can I just put it inside you? Cuz, uh, if I put it on my dick, I’m gonna bust in my hand.” He gives a small laugh, though you both know he’s not joking. 

Eddie gingerly fingers you, all-too aware of how oversensitive and overstimulated your pussy is. At some point, he’ll have fun teasing you with his touch, but tonight is about your comfort. 

He slides his cock back inside you. “Better?”

“Much,” you manage, re-acclimating your body to him being inside you. “Thank you, baby.”

“‘Course. Let me know if you need more again, ‘kay?”

You nod, relishing in the way he fills you. His cock presses against your walls; you can feel every last inch of him.

Eddie doesn’t stop showering you with praise as he pistons his hips. “Love when my girl tells me what she needs,” he says with a small smirk. “I’d do fuckin’ anything for you, sweet thing.” A few strands of hair cover his eye, and you swipe it away. “Thanks.”

“Any time.” You manage a smile of your own before he catches you off guard, positioning you so he can rub your clit while fucking you. Your jaw drops in surprise; it’s exactly the reaction he wanted. “Just like that, Eds. Holy shit, right there!”

“That’s what you like? Hmm? Like when I’m deep inside your perfect pussy, making you feel good?” The hand not making small figure-eights on your swollen bud grabs your ass, squeezing it possessively. “Like when I claim you? Let me show you who you belong to.”

The combination of Eddie deep within you and being claimed by him pushes you over the edge. The coil snaps and you choke out a sob of relief as pleasure invades your body. You finish on his cock, chanting his name like a prayer. 

“Fuck, c-can’t hold out anym-more,” he grunts, and with a cry of your name, he fills you with his own release. He stays inside you for a moment, catching his breath; when he finally pulls out, you can feel his cum dripping down your bare thigh. He hurries to grab the faded blue towel hanging from the back of his door, wiping you off before plopping next to you. He draws tiny circles on your forearm while pressing kisses to your shoulder. 

“Was that good? It didn’t hurt or anything, right? Because I kinda lost my mind at the end—” 

You silence him with a kiss that only ends because you both start smiling. “That was the best sex I’ve ever had. No one’s ever made me cum before,” you admit. 

Eddie scoots back slightly. “You’re shitting me.”

“Nope. You’re the first. So, um, thank you?”

He puffs out his chest, slick with perspiration. “No need to thank us, baby. We’d do anything for you.”

“‘We?’” You cock your eyebrow. 

“Yeah, me and the lube,” he states plainly, as if this is an obvious fact. “We make a pretty good team, dontcha think?”

“You’re an idiot, Eddie Munson.”

“I dunno, I thought my ‘pocket lube’ idea was pretty damn brilliant.”

--

[dystopyx-blog]

Bro I think so hard about being in TWST without meds but specifically with Floyd. The way he just, doesn't care. You're tired? Awww how sad, he wants to play with his favorite shrimpy. You think he doesn't care at all until you hurt yourself and suddenly he's shackled to your side.

I just got like brain blasted by the SH post due to my own spiraling and like tjis idea alone has given me so much comfort

bro Floyd comfort…. I mean he is literally a comfort character for me, if it isn’t obvious lol. I’m really really glad I could give you some comfort! Genuinely, that gives ME comfort. Especially since my yandere twst posts are also meant to give me comfort, so the fact they do the same for others warms my heart.

It’s so surprising the first time Floyd comforts you. He approaches you, going “hey hey hey, what’s the matter with shrimpy? :(“ and you try to tell him it’s nothing. “Ain’t nothin’ if it got shrimpy sad. Tell me what’s wrong.” And to your surprise he sits and listens. And he’s a good listener, at least for you in that specific moment. He doesn’t interrupt, he doesn’t make fun of you, he sits there and hums to let you know he’s listening. You find yourself spilling everything to him, it’s surprisingly easy to. Maybe you shouldn’t have, maybe he’ll just use it all against you in the future, who fucking cares, this is what you need right now. For a second you wonder if this is actually Jade using Shock the Heart on you somehow. But no, it’s Floyd. A seemingly very out of character Floyd? After pouring your heart out to him, he hits you with a sympathetic stare. “Damn, shrimpy,” he says, “that really sucks…”

Then he gets up and you assume, that’s it, he’s gonna leave me here now. But he offers you a hand and a grin. “C’mon Shrimpy, I’m gonna cheer you up.” ‘And he will try his damndest to do just that, taking you all over campus to find something to lift your spirits. But really, the very process of hanging out with him and watching him try to find something to do with you is enough to have you smiling. You end up in the Mostro Lounge, Floyd promising to get ya whatever you want. Unfortunately, Jade is the one to take your order, which means, of course, you’re subject to his needling. But then Floyd shoos him away. And later, when Azul himself appears at your table, hoping to get his suckers on useful information, Floyd glares at him and tells him to leave you alone. “Great Seven, why can’t anyone just leave us alone? Cant they see I’m tryna spend time with my shrimpy?” And maybe you don’t realize it at the time, still so caught off guard from what seemed to be a total flip in personality, but he meant it when he called you his shrimpy. If you were anyone else, he wouldn’t have given a fuck, it’s only because you were you that Floyd was at all invested in your feelings. Cuz everything about his shrimpy is interesting and entertaining. That’s why they’re his. You notice Floyd hangs out with you a lot more after that, stuck to your side like glue. He’s awful for ADD considering his sudden swings in mood. You get distracted, but it’s even worse with him because once he’s in the mood to do something he just does it. So you’ll be trying to focus on work, and he’ll be there because he’s basically always with you at this point, and he suddenly decides you two have to go do this random thing right now. It’s the same when you’re in depressions, too, he’ll drag you along. It’s surprisingly helpful, though. It’s hard to be bored with Floyd, which makes sense considering how much he hates being bored. So even without your antidepressants… well, at least you have Floyd Leech??

[ronance4everbrainrot]

Some little incorrect quotes from the Merlin academy gang.

Because I have a bit of alone time right now UwU

(+Glassheart/CharmingHeart and other ships)

Squad reactions to being called straight:

Red : The fuck, no I'm not.

Hook: Excuse the hell out of you?

Morgie: Ding dong, you are wrong!

Bridget: Who told you that? And why did they lie?

Chloe: Rude.

Ella: *punches the person*

(I honestly want Ella or Chloe to punch someone)

---

Chloe: What are you up to today?

Red: Nothing.

Chloe: But you did that yesterday!

Red: I wasn’t finished.

(I feel that. Yuh)

---

Cinderella: Did you take out Red as I requested?

Chloe: Red has been taken out, yes.

Cinderella: You have my grat-

Chloe: It was a great restaurant.

Chloe: We had a romantic candlelit dinner.

Chloe: Red proposed afterwards- we’re filing the wedding papers.

(AU were Cinderella and Queen of Hearts are enemies or something and Ella wanted to kill the daughter of the Queen of Hearts for some reason idk lol)

---

Hades: The shadow realm? No, I’m sending you to Ohio

(I don't know much about Ohio. But apparently it's hell?)

---

Ella: Ugh, crushes are so dumb.

Charming: I know. Whenever I’m near the person I like I just start acting stupid.

Ella: But you’re always acting stupid?

Charming: ...

Charming: Yeah, don’t think about that too hard.

(aha 👀 okaaayy)

---

Morgie: How do I tell Hook that I want them to yell at me like they're Gordon Ramsay and I'm a poor little chef who just ruined the crème brûlée?

(damn, Morgie. hell yeah! I'm hoping for you)

---

Morgie: I want a bf.

Bridget: Do you mean best friend, boyfriend or bread feast? Because you’re being really vague here.

(All of them really. But mostly a boyfriend/Hook)

---

Bridget: Watcha doin?

Morgie: Stealing my neighbour’s cat.

Bridget: Scandalous.

Bridget: Can I help?

(The cat wasn't treated well. And Best friend? Check ✅)

---

Bridget: Awww, why don't you like cats, Ella? They're just snuggly buddies! They have toe beans! They make a little blep! What's not to love??

Ella: I don't know Bridget, I just prefer to be conscious instead of dead on the floor.

Bridget:

Ella: I'm ALLERGIC.

(Bridget felt really bad for Ella that she can't cuddle with cats. She made it her mission to find some kind of potion/recipe that could make Ella not allergic so she can pat cats safely)

---

Morgie: Man, it smells like wrongdog out here.

Hook:

Hook: Morgie, are you alright?

Morgie: *sobs*

(Boyfriend? Check ✅? Also he would definitely make that joke.)

---

Hades: How high are you?

Bridget: Mm, I don’t know how to say it in feet.

Morgie: No, they’re asking what drugs are you on.

Bridget: Oh, antidepressants, why?

(oop. I can see that tho 🫠)

---

Bridget: Today at 7 am, Ella poured a Monster energy drink in their coffee, said "I'm going to die" and drank the whole thing.

Hook: I watched Ella brew their coffee with Monster instead of water. Three cups in two hours. I think they ascended into the astral realm.

Hades: The survivability of the human race never fails to amaze me.

(Says a god. He's literally a god. What the hell.)

---

Kind in a rush.

Also not much glassheart

Hope you liked it

Byeee

[thefandomlesbian]

Inspired by the post by @oddlittlestories about Wilson touching House's sensitive points--specifically, the mention of the strongyloides patient and the afterlife. This is something I've been stewing on for awhile.

I don't think House's issue with the afterlife and the strongyloides patient was solely stemming from his own personal obsession or ongoing issues with suicidality related to his disability.

4x03, 97 Seconds, is only four episodes after 3x22 Resignation, in which House discovers Wilson has been taking antidepressants and it's implied Wilson has been struggling with his depression and simultaneously refuses to tell House anything about it, no matter how House pries. House makes his own inferences, that this is either a new thing or a change in prescription because of worsening depression, but Wilson deflects when he tries to ask. It's one of Wilson's sensitive points. We learn (and House explicitly observes later) that Wilson shuts down particularly painful topics, mostly relating to loss, and this is one that he shuts down hard and fast by accusing House of not caring about him.

House, true to character when it comes to all things Wilson, assumes the worst. We don't know what Wilson is actually going through, that's left to be guessed at by the audience, but we do know that House has been effectively shut out while continuing to be concerned.

And then, only a few episodes later, we get two different patients: a man who experienced cardiac arrest and replicates it in front of House for the thrill, and a physically disabled man who discusses being free of his mortal body. We see House and Wilson have exchanges about both of these patients. First, about the knife in the outlet patient:

House repeatedly tries to draw Wilson back to the topic of suicidality, why? how? what was the plan? and Wilson repeatedly avoids the topic until he gives up and leaves the scene sooner than have the conversation. My read: The implication is that Wilson at some point in the past (whether or not this is recent past or long past, we don't know) dealt intimately with suicidal ideation that makes him uncomfortable, either personally or with a family member (maybe his brother). House takes this as confirmation.

So then, this scene is followed up later in the episode, where Wilson and House together are with the disabled strongyloides patient, who is telling them he does not want cancer treatment. The patient says death will be a relief--in front of Wilson, House looks at him before he addresses the patient. It triggers a knee-jerk reaction, anger.

House recognizes he oversteps and leaves the patient, but the argument continues between him and Wilson in the hallway. It goes much deeper than trying to talk a terminally ill man into living a few months longer, because the argument isn't really about him; he's just a narrative vessel for this conversation between these two characters.

The most popular read for this exchange is that House is arguing for himself, that he thinks misery isn't a good enough reason to take his life and he is telling himself that death isn't a worthy escape (which is definitely a valid read of the scene). But given the recent context of Wilson's depression, his utter refusal to share anything with House and therefore the audience, his complete discomfort with the suggestion of suicidal ideation and all the big questions like why and how and what for... I don't think House's actions after this scene are for House.

We have this argument where Wilson is arguing in defense of a man who is passively suicidal. "You don't know death isn't better, you can't know, death could be better. There could be a solace after all of this, you don't know." If this conversation is framed in context of Wilson being depressed and having potentially been suicidal, he's not defending the patient--he's defending himself, for having had those thoughts. And House is arguing with him, against those thoughts. Wilson's conclusion is you can't go to the afterlife and see how much it sucks.

Of course House's conclusion is to go to the afterlife and see how much it sucks.

This is the song playing while House contemplates what he needs to do.

Starting over anew without a partner, not knowing how to make sense of things, becoming a new terrified person in lieu of someone who is supposed to be there--that's where his mind is. He goes to look at the electrical outlet patient, just staring in silence. What could be so good that it needs to be revisited? He must be wrong. (Note that at no point does House ever share with Wilson that the electrical outlet patient's claim that death was the best 97 seconds of his life--he asks Wilson why but never follows up with the answer.)

So House pages Amber and tries to try to kill himself, as convoluted as it sounds, so he can know the afterlife isn't good. So he can have proof. So he'll have evidence. He'll know it sucks, even worse than Detroit, they can't have this argument again.

House says it explicitly. "You insisted that I needed to see for myself." He had to know.

House wants to talk about what he experienced. He deliberately seeks out someone who will understand, asks for that person specifically, he wants to share. But with Wilson, he digs in his heels. Entrenched. We see that Wilson is generally the person House shares personal things with, such as the suspected identity of his biological father, he goes directly to Wilson after Dominika leaves in S8, he seeks him out throughout the Stacy arc in S2, pesters him while the fellows are fleeing in S3 even after the Tritter arc, his soft place to land during and after rehab in S6--Wilson is House's number one confidant.

Not on this subject. He refuses to say anything, except, "I love you." He doesn't respond to Wilson's criticism that he's already had near-death experiences before; he doesn't bite at any of the bait. Not talking about it. The person he wants to share with isn't there, so he doesn't share, not even with Wilson. The only thing we get as the audience is his dialogue to the corpse at the end of the episode.

This is also not something he shares with Wilson. Too much of a sensitive spot, too tender.

But all leading to my conclusion that... House didn't put the knife in the electrical socket for himself. As Wilson points out, House has had multiple near-death experiences. He doesn't need to almost die to find out what happens. He's already seen it. He already knows.

The character who has most recently displayed new depressive tendencies in this context isn't House. Wilson is the one refusing to discuss his mental health, ostensibly taking new psych drugs or minimally increasing the dosages, becoming uncomfortable with conversations about the difficult questions of suicide, and verbally defending a man's desire to die to end the mortal coil.

House didn't put the knife in the electrical socket to fight release for himself. He's been in chronic pain for a decade at this point, it hasn't changed, he has treated patients with self-destructive tendencies in the interim with no impact to his own mental health. This event didn't strike at a vulnerable time for House; it struck at a time when House knows Wilson is struggling, specifically when he has already tried to offer help and Wilson accused him of not caring. He had to do something.

House put the knife in the outlet to fight for Wilson. To have evidence, to talk him down. "See? I proved it. There's nothing. Now you know for sure. Now you have to stay with me."

That would be too saccharine. But he says, "I love you," and that's what he means.

[danisbrainrot]

okay girl I want post rescue lottie in a psyh ward. reader is her roommate and lottie is always trying to help them and comfort them and she barely talks about her own feelings and why she's here BUT one day lottie is having an episode/maybe panic attack and now it's reader's turn to help her/comfort her

lottie matthews x reader

tw: mental health issues, self-h@rm and su1c1d3 mentioned.

my love, I debated writing this because this was so hard to write (I don't know anything about mental health and psych wards :/ ) I tried to write it in the most sympathetic/realistic way I could.

whispering softly, you tried to reassure yourself that everything was fine. tucked beneath your covers for warmth and protection, you faced the walls—away from your room mate—ignoring the rest of the world.

the feeling of warm hands on your back throws you into a panic, as you rip the weighted blanket off of you. "are you okay?" you look up and see your roommate staring down at you with concern.

in the six months you two shared a room, you'd never uttered even a word to each other—this seemed to have come out of nowhere.

maintaining eye contact, it takes forever before you finally shake your head and burst into tears. "I'm not supposed to be here," you whimper, nuzzling your face in your knees and rocking back and forth. "I'm not insane. my parents are wrong."

your roommate places her arms around you, pulling you in close and shushing you soothingly. "I know what you mean. neither of us should be here right now," she mutters ominously. you look up at her in confusion, a weird beat passing, before you shake your head. "I'm lottie."

"six months. . . and we don't know each other's names," you scoff, snuggling into her side. you didn't know why, but it felt right in her arms—like that's where you belonged.

"I know your name," she smiles softly, gently placing her head against yours. staying still for a while, the hours passed, but you focused on the sounds of her deep breaths—closing your eyes and enjoying her presence.

a knock on the door alerts the both of you—reminding you where you were—causing the two of you to tear apart. it was an attending, carrying a tray with both your meds. "okay you two, seven pm, you know what the means."

they nod in understanding, you hold out your palm, the cup in the other hand as you throw three pills back at the same time. lottie is hesitant, however, her eyes narrowing at the new attending. "I usually have four," she replies harshly.

"your parents wanted you on a fifth one, as per your doctor's recommendation," the attending explains, shoving the tray in her face. lottie scowled but still took all five pills.

once the attending left, you growl, "fucking asshole," lottie snorts at your comment. "because of him, now I need antidepressants as well. oh, I'm on suicide watch, did you hear?"

"who do you think pried the razor out of your hands?" she asked softly, staring at you with an intensity that caused your insides to shiver.

you shake your head, "I wasn't gonna do it, just. . . I thought I'd get more mash with dinner. didn't know they'd—"

"you don't like mashed potato," she mumbles. your cheek burns, as you realise she knows a lot more about you than you know about her.

"do you stop staring at me?" you snap. lottie hmms cryptically, moving back onto your bed and next to you; her arms are around you once again. eyes widening, you shuffle slightly—wanting to escape her embrace but craving her touch at the same time. "what are you doing?"

lottie was silent for a moment, "I'm hugging you," she mumbles, twirling a strand of your hair. you sigh into the hug, missing how it felt to have this kind of connection with someone. "you haven't been hugged in a while, huh?"

you don't know why, but you blurt out, "I haven't been kissed either," you try to joke, only it comes out acerbically. lottie, to her merits, didn't even flinch.

instead, she merely pulls away and tucks your hair behind your ear. "do you want to be?" lottie asks. you nod softly, and she pulls you closer. your eyes squeeze shut, feeling her soft lips against your own.

forgetting how to kiss, you immediately moan into the kiss, grinding into her slightly. she chuckles at your eagerness.

when you finally pull away, lottie sighs. "still don't belong here?"

you shake your head, "not in the asylum. but maybe with you. . ." you whisper shyly. lottie giggles, kissing you again.

[chaifootsteps]

its really hard to take any comparisons of stolas to other abusive characters seriously because i genuinely dont think viv comprehends shes written an abuser, the same way other authors can comprehend theyve written abusers. she self projects so heavily onto him and acts like his sass is justified to the point pretty much everyone, even fans and critics, knows that s3 will just end up with him living with blitz and working for IMP (which was foreshadowed just oh so subtly in the helluvababies season 2 premiere,) after losing everything (oh no, the consequences of my actions!) because of the full moon deal HE decided to start. he started out doing something bad, acknowledged it once (didnt even apologize to blitz for the deal btw,) and got go back to his life of luxury after his former sex slave said no to his love. he took advantage of the main character in the very first episode and will still be rewarded with him presented as stolas's knight in shining armor, a family who will unconditionally love him because of fucking course they will even though they know their boss had to fuck him or else they wouldnt have their "meal ticket", and eventually, most probably, his daughters forgiveness after she cut him out of his life for.. taking antidepressants. not for neglecting her, not for not teaching her anything about the book she was solely created for, for 17 years, before letting someone else have it without a single worry of what could happen to it, and certainly not because she cheated on his mom with some "weird red dickhead" i can watch other shows with the understanding (most of the time) that that character probably will receive some kind of growth, karma, acknowledgement, or change of their terrible behavior if theyre intentionally written as toxic. or, if their toxicity is supposed to be the point, for them to go full ham with it. helluva boss is neither to me; its abuse tactics and toxic patterns presented as good, like gaslighting, triangulation, and codependency. and an audience like vivs will digest these ideas subconsciously as good if they have no critical thinking skills of their own, which most of them dont. and all while being too afraid to actually hold abusers accountable in a setting like hell of all places. thats why none of the characters even acknowledge the actually shitty things stolas does and arent allowed to not forgive him- because the creator herself is an abuser who doesnt understand, or doesnt want to understand, that being held accountable is about ALWAYS acknowledging the mistakes you made and STILL trying to be better, even if the people you hurt still hate you. not apologizing once, and then getting pissed someone didnt automatically forgive you, as if your remorse means you're entitled to forgiveness. thats how stolas thinks, because thats how she thinks, and thats terrible. i cant even watch these shows in a "im a messy bitch who lives 4 drama" way as much as i want to because watching an abuser get everything he wants after a season of straight up cloaca sucking is NOT drama. its just incredibly depressing and makes me think about the piles of money that couldve been used to make anything other then this, instead of the creators self insert fanfiction of "no one is allowed to judge my character based on my past selfish actions: the overpriced, overstuffed with expensive celebs while i claim i cant fairly pay my animators i force to work exclusively on my shows the musical!"

I think you're spot on, unfortunately. If it weren't for the fanbase slavishly, cultishly lapping up everything Viv gives them and making it a point to incorporate it into their own lives, it would be a fascinating look at how an abusive person sees themselves. Stolas's justifications really are Viv's justifications, and she'll never see him as an abuser for the same reason she'll never see herself as one.

[bomberqueen17]

*vibrating slightly in place*

So ok. When I was in kindergarten, my classroom was arranged so that four desks were linked together, so we were in little groups. I used to regularly vibrate my desk and the three it was attached to, with three other children in them, across several feet of floor space, until the linked desks ran into the teacher's desk, which was larger and did not move with the force of my vibrations. I was a good student, but hard to control, and markedly uneven in my ability to like. Do anything. "Well," my mom said once, upon beholding my entire spectrum of a report card, "we'd just hate to be bored."

When I graduated with my bachelor's degree, seventeen years later, my mom said "I never thought you could do it," and when I, shocked, said "what?" she said "well what with your ADHD and all," and I said "my what?" and she said "well, i never wanted to shake your confidence, and I thought once they put a label on you it'd be over, but you super have like, turbo ADHD. Why, what do you think your deal is?" She said it nicely and not in those words at all, but it was the first time I'd ever really realized that I wasn't just mildly eccentric, I did seem to actually have something wrong with me.

I've been trying to get a diagnosis ever since. I've never been able to. I had no health insurance at all for a huge chunk of my twenties, which put a damper on things. One doctor told me "you'd know if you had that" and when I was like "I... do" she was like "no i mean. you'd already be being treated." Which shows a wild and totally unwarranted optimism in our medical system, but she was a resident. The doctor overseeing her care of me suggested I try taking fish oil capsules. To "rebuild my brain tissue".

I did. It didn't help. I still buy them but mostly I use them now to get my cat to take pills.

Eventually in my 30s my doctors started sort of believing me maybe, or at least realizing they couldn't really brush me off (I have gotten... less easily-cowed as I've aged) but they were all like "oh, I can't evaluate that. You'll have to research and find a place that can do a neuropsych eval for you. Insurance doesn't cover those. So good luck. Have some antidepressants in the meantime."

I slid into my 40s, still undiagnosed. I read as many self-help books on the topic as I could find, did all the checklists I found. They all said "girl you super have like turbo ADHD." I tried meditation. I tried divination. I tried bullet journaling, which was hilarious. I tried yoga.

I actually damaged myself doing yoga and am banned from yoga, but at least I'm in physical therapy now. (Word to the wise: if you have really really flexible hip joints, don't fucking do yoga. "Usually I don't have to tell people not to get into that position," said my bemused physical therapist. "Oh," I said, blissfully bepretzeled. "It feels super good." "Mm," she said, "you've torn your labrum. Stop doing that." Now I do really, really boring stretches that don't feel nearly as good, but I also can walk without limping, so. Like. We take the good with the bad I guess.)

Anyway. My PCP in January was like "wait you didn't follow my super vague directions to go see 'the guys downstairs' and see if they can squeeze you into their eleven-month waiting period to get an evaluation that i cannot mention without saying it's several thousand dollars and your insurance surely won't cover it? you must not want this diagnosis very badly!" (At no point has anyone ever given me a phone number for 'the guys downstairs'. I still don't know what she meant by any of those directions. This PCP and I technically speak the same language but I've never understood a single thing she has told me and I don't think she understands a word I say in return, everything I tell her seems to be such a shock to her. You blame antidepressants for your weight gain? I've never heard of that. Ma'am please look up what the incredibly common side effects of antidepressants are.)

I called around but noplace both took my insurance and was accepting new patients. Finally I gave up. Then my Dude went on our insurance company's website and took over the search. He found that there's some kind of concierge service thing, which the insurance company normally charges $450/mo for but our plan includes it, because it's pretty well-hidden on the website and most people aren't ever going to find it anyway. So he said, you know what, I am going to instigate a query on this.

They took two weeks but eventually came back with a list of 13 places, most of them not remotely local. Ten of them were red X's, disqualified for varying reasons-- one because the phone number didn't work, another because it's a seven-hour drive away and doesn't do telehealth. One was in New Jersey. None of them were the local places I had already called.

Two of them were valid, but the insurance wouldn't cover the evaluation for various reasons.

One of them was fully covered, the insurance company said. So I went there.

Their website said "no you're not we can't see you". But Dude was like, call them on the phone. Surely, surely, the concierge service couldn't have lied??? Bet, I said, and called them and left a message, and said to him, if they call me back I will eat a hat.

But they did. They called me back. "Our insurance checker widget is down," they said. "But we do take your insurance! We can see you. We just don't know how much it will cost."

Ominous.

But. They could see me later in the week, via a telehealth appointment.

So I signed up.

The appointment was this morning. I turned up. Their insurance checker thingy still wasn't working so they couldn't be sure how much the appointment would cost me. I at this point don't care, and gave them my HSA credit card, and said do what you will.

I waited 45 minutes and then texted the number they'd texted me from with the confirmation, and a moment later the guy showed up. "Whoops," he said, "that system isn't working quite right either!"

He talked to me for like. Three minutes, and was like "yeah that sounds. Pretty textbook. I'm going to prescribe you stimulants." He then proceeded to take a very basic medical history, and I recognized all the questions because I have researched stimulant medication for ADHD so much. And he was like "We're going to start with Adderall, check at your pharmacy in like an hour." And then he gave me extremely useful and detailed instructions on how to take it, when to take it, what side effects to worry about, what to expect, what to note down in case it might mean a problem, and how to be safe about it. (He asked me three times if I'd ever been suicidal, and it had also been in the online pre-screening. I am aware that can be a rare but very serious side effect of stimulants!)

And then I went to Rite-Aid and I now have 16 pills in my possession, and i am going to wait until tomorrow morning to start taking them, and I am already scheduled for my follow-up in 15 days.

I have absolutely no idea how much any of that is going to cost, but for the record the pills were eleven dollars.

So. I don't know why the last decade of my life has been spent being told that a comprehensive and unattainably expensive neuropsychological evaluation was my only option. Maybe this place is a disreputable pill mill or whatever. But. I am going to get to try to medicate this disorder that has warped my entire life to this point, and I am going to try to see if I can't have some more control over my life, and if it doesn't work then at least I will know, instead of on my deathbed being like "i wonder if i'd ever tried amphetamines maybe I'd have been able to finish a project ever in my life, guess we'll never know".

Which was what I was starting to genuinely think was going to happen.

Literally though why can't a primary care doctor just refer you to a psychiatrist who can then decide whether you need an assessment or whether your condition is likely to respond well to a basic diagnosis?? I get needing the whole nine yards if you're not sure what's wrong with this kid and you don't want to give them the wrong thing-- like I know misdiagnosing a bipolar sufferer with depression can give you really bad outcomes, for example-- but-- I don't know? I don't know.

I just want to be able to start and finish projects. What I'd really love is to be able to make to-do lists meaningfully, as that is an ability I did used to have and now absolutely don't. I legit cannot make a to-do list in any meaningful or useful way.

So we'll see. I'm going to keep a journal and the real test of whether the pills work is to see whether I can actually keep the journal.

But I need to find some kind of edible hat, at some point, just to keep my word.

[appendectomy]

in terms of psychoanalysis i’m really going all in on james wilson ocd diagnosis.

i personally interpret his behaviour in relationships - being drawn to needy people, leaving when he feels he’s not needed anymore - as due to a hyperinflated sense of responsibility, something people with ocd have to really battle with to approach their relationships healthily and prevent codependency. you see someone with a problem and you physically can’t walk away, because seeing it and not getting involved feels like neglect. long post, more below the cut.

i interpret it this way - instead of say, him being drawn to needy people purely because he likes playing saviour - because i think a lot of the time, especially with his brother, wilson actually experiences quite a lot of anxiety over taking care of others. i think he feels obligated to do it as averse to fulfilled by doing it, which is why he struggled so hard to support his brother and carries that guilt almost his whole adult life. you can see this in amber too - he wasn’t happy at the prospect of buying her the mattress she liked to make her feel cared for. he was extremely nervous about it, afraid to make the wrong decision and make her feel bad. he is constantly grappling with this intense motivation to be a 'good' partner, a 'good' friend, a 'good' doctor, a 'good' person, and it comes across as an intrusive and obsessive preoccupation with morality to me more than anything. he takes antidepressants because of his job, that feels more like obligation to be a saviour to me than fulfillment from helping people.

i feel like wilson is drawn to neediness because his brain tells him he HAS to stay or something bad will happen - like it did with danny - but when he realises his partners/friends dont need him anymore, he leaves not because he doesn't feel fulfilled anymore but because he realises he doesn't actually like the person. he was staying with them out of obligation, and once that obligation fades there really isn't much reason to stick around. this is also supported by the fact that bonnie says wilson's pattern isn't to initiate relationships - he kind of... falls into them and gets stuck.

i also think that even though house and wilson's relationship is mainly built on love, this also plays a pretty big role in it. but it works for house. house is perpetually needy, and wilson is perpetually obligated to be his saviour. wilson is constantly there for house, even when he doesn't want to be, even when house tells him to go away, because wilson is his only friend and house can be legitimately dangerous which probably dials any obsessive-compulsive behaviour to 11. because if wilson isn't there for house, there actually is a chance something bad will happen. but house also acommodates wilson in their living situations, and he doesn't need coddling which is probably a bit of a relief. wilson doesn't need to tread on eggshells around house because no way is house ever actually going to leave. house also encourages wilson to do things for himself for a change instead of worrying about everyone else, which helps him break the cycle a little. people with ocd want control to feel stable, but house perpetually undermines that control which stops the unhealthy behaviour from manifesting. it's a real mixed bag with him.

other evidence i've collected that supports this interpretation: wilson has hinted-at hoarding tendencies with useless items his patients give him, he has a proccupation with health thats a little unusual even for a doctor, he has an obsessive approach to his appearance, he is such an extreme perfectionist that sam makes fun of him by saying he's 'being so ocd', he cannot easily make simple decisions like choosing furniture, he approaches all the relationships in his life with a strange intensity. plus my own personal projection <3

[bijouxcarys]

I didn't have anywhere else to kind of talk about this, and I need to get it out of my system somehow, so I'm just putting this on here. Maybe someone can relate to it?

TW/ self-harm, suicidal ideology, please don't read this if it's going to potentially trigger you.

If you don't think this will trigger you, I still suggest you read on. Anyone around you could be experiencing this right now, and it's a very real thing.

Here's the reality of living as an adult with autism, who wasn't diagnosed until the age of 18.

It fucking sucks. To put it mildly.

Growing up as an undiagnosed autistic child is difficult. Especially if you are beaten down verbally by everybody to the point where you believe that you are, in fact, a bad kid. I'm convinced that's had a hand in why I'm so paranoid about my relationships with people. If I'm doing something to upset or annoy them.

You spend your entire childhood being told that you're the problem, when you're just trying to fucking survive in a world that's hard enough to live in without the added stress of developmental disorders, and you're going to believe for the rest of your life that you're the problem.

That is, unless you're able to go and see a therapist or counsellor.

Which leads me to my next point: we are conditioned to believe that we aren't allowed to ask for help, because we can never take on the advice anyways! 18 years of being told that I'm being dramatic, by my own counsellor as well, definitely dampens your willingness to attend any kind of talk therapy.

You get trauma building up over time from the rejection sensitivity, the amount of friend groups you plow through, the anxiety and depression that come as a result of how your brain is wired. It's not even that you have depression or anxiety; a lot of the time, they are symptoms of our autism. But they don't care. They'll feed us antidepressants.

I've been on antidepressant medication for a long time now. I'd argue about 6 years. I'm 22 now, on 200mg of sertraline daily. Last year I tried to come off my medication. Big mistake. Realised I'm kind of fucked without it.

Back in 2019, I used to take my antidepressant in liquid form because I had a sensitivity to swallowing pills. One day, my inability to read social cues and communicate effectively with my friends led me to drink the whole bottle of Fluoxetine.

When you're undiagnosed with autism and you have to go through regular life every day, it's damaging. So dangerous to the mental health of the child. The more we are put in situations that can overstimulate us, and overwhelm us, the more it takes from your ability to cope with life. You get beaten down, and beaten down, and beaten down, until you're an emotionless entity wandering the Earth with no solid ambitions or aspirations. You've spent your entire life in defense mode, mirroring everyone's behaviour and personalities so that you feel the tiniest bit "normal" out of pure survival, that you lose a sense of who you are as a person. You feel stripped of your personality. You don't know what you're doing.

Then you get thrust into the real world. What the fuck am I supposed to do now? I don't know how to survive in a world that isn't made for me. I don't know how to tell people I'm autistic, because a) they very rarely understand what I mean by that, and what it entails, and b) I don't even know enough about my autism.

Why? Because I wasn't diagnosed until just before I turned 18 - got discharged from CAMHS (Child and Adolescence Mental Health Service) once I turned 18, with no referral to a counsellor that could help me, and no information on what the fuck I should do next.

I've stayed in education because it's the only thing I know how to survive. I went to college, university, and now I'm doing a master's degree online. And I still don't really know what my goal is in life.

I have no friends, and I flip-flop between being upset about it and being absolutely fine with it. I don't leave the house, I don't work, I even struggle to do the most basic of daily tasks.

I'm constantly fantasising about a life I could have, but ultimately realise I can't have.

My brain is fucked up, and I am traumatised by the life I've had to live and survive in. And now I'm stuck in survival mode.

And I don't know how to live, instead of simply exist.

That's where the suicidal ideology comes in. I'm constantly thinking about how much easier everything would be if I did just off myself. But the thing is, I'm not actively planning it, but the thought brings me great comfort. There's always a way out. And I can't expect that I'll leave this world any other way.

Now... when an autistic person, or any person, tells you that they don't want to die, but thinking about killing themselves brings them a sense of comfort and contentment... there's something wrong there.

There's nothing I want more than to start living. But when it takes 110% of my energy to do the bare minimum... living becomes synonymous with existing.

Not being taught how to deal with the meltdowns, the overstimulation, the understimulation, the food sensitivities, the way the world functions... has fucked me up, for myself, and for everyone else around me.

And when given the choice between spending the rest of my life putting all my energy into living the way I do now, and killing myself and saving myself from the pain, the latter sounds far more enticing.

I don't want to die. But to live is too much of an enigma to want anything other than the silence.

[enigmasong]

And, of course as usual, the worst part isn't the disappointment - it's the being yelled at for being disappointed and daring to want the thing in the first place and being shamed for how I want to spend what little money I'm able to get.

Had to buy my meds, so I had to cancel my pre-order for Tears of the Kingdom because I am five dollars too short for it.

Still have just enough to buy it when it comes out, assuming tax doesn't push beyond 71 bucks (because, goodness knows they can't just include sales tax in the shown price), but if I can maybe beg for five to ten bucks to be on the safe side?

[thetriplets3]

happier than ever

tw: depression, panic attacks, alludes to suicidal thoughts, antidepressants

female pronouns are used. if you’d like me to start writing my fics in gender neutral pronouns let me know!!

When you spend years on end in an endless dark tunnel just walking and walking towards a light that seems impossible to reach, you get used to it and slowly finding that light seems pointless. It was like a routine, everyday was the same, black and white, bleak, lifeless there was no sign of hope.

When you’re in the dark for so long you adjust to it. That’s just how things are now, dark, you learn how to work your way through this dark tunnel. It takes a long time to truly realize how bad things are and even longer to see that it doesn’t have to be that way. Seeing a therapist was the first step and arguably the hardest, having to admit out loud you’re not okay and admitting you need help.

You’ve been by my side since the 6th grade. You’ve seen me at my worst and my best (which is not much better than my worst). You know me inside out, I’d go as far to say you understand me more than I understand myself. That’s why you’re the best boyfriend. The countless nights I’d call you needing to hear your voice to distract me from the panic attack I gave myself from crying, to stop me from letting my thoughts consume me. I couldn’t shake the feeling of guilt for putting all my heavy problems on you but you made sure to drill it in my head that you’d be there for me, no matter what.

You were a light in my life. Supporting me through everything and doing your best to help me get through this. When I told you about therapy you were so proud of me, knowing how hesitant I was to have to spill all my deepest and darkest parts of me. I told you somethings but never in detail, just vague explanations. After my first day of therapy, I came home to find you waiting on the bench on my porch with my favorite flowers. I scurry over to you, engulfing you in a big hug. My red, tear stained face showing how therapy went. You pull away from the hug and cup my puffy face in your warm hands.

“These are for you. I know how hard today was for you but you did it and I’m so proud of you. I know it might feel like it’s only making things worse but when you say all these bad things aloud they’re not apart of you, they’re in the open, slowly detaching themselves freeing up space in your being for things that are good for your soul. It’ll all be worth it, I promise you love” you reassure me, placing a gentle and loving kiss on my lips.

Slowly things started improving. Things were still in black and white but I have techniques to use when things get bad. I made a list l of things to self soothe, an item for each of the senses whether it be a comfort movie, your favorite music, the sweet smell of a candle, sour candy or a warm shower, it’ll help your mind to shift to a more positive stimulus. TIPP has been really helpful to me as well. Temperature, Intense exercise, Paced breathing, and Progressive muscle relaxation.

With the suggestion from the therapist, I started antidepressants. Not having high expectations for it to do anything, it was like a light switch went off, color started returning to things so vividly, smiling become natural to me, I could finally see all the doors in that dark tunnel. I no longer feel temporary happiness it’s constant now. The smallest things I never noticed before bring a smile to my face. It’s like I’m experiencing life for a second time. I was in awe of life. I feel at peace with myself no longer feeling like I’m at war with my thoughts. I was too blinded by my thoughts that I didn’t realize how much joy there is in simply just being.

Now that life feels less doom and gloom I wanted to spend time around the people I love without feeling like they needed to keep an eye on me, fearing that I’d do something. You and your brothers had planned a trip to the mountains for a little break after being on the go for work. You had invited me know how much I love the mountains and how peaceful I feel near them. I haven’t shared much about my healing process with you, fearing that if I say it aloud it’ll disappear. I wanted to make sure this feeling was permanent.

matt’s pov:

Pulling up to your house I smiled to myself seeing you all packed and ready to leave on your porch. Wasting no time you ran towards my side of the car. I step out of the car pulling you in for a hug.

“Get in the car I’ll put your stuff in the trunk. You get passenger seat, make sure to thank Chris he’s bitter about it” I say placing a kiss on your cheek.

I love seeing you excited like this it’s been a rare thing over the past few years. Heading off to the rental I can feel the excitement and happiness radiating off of you. I don’t know what’s causing this but I love it. I love seeing you happy. I barely was able to park the car before you were jumping out the door and running up to the cabin with Chris following close behind, like 2 children on christmas morning. By the time Nick and I got everything out of the car you had explored the whole cabin, eager for me to hurry up and join you.

We spent the first night just taking it easy and staying in. Nick and Chris have made themselves comfortable in the living room watching a movie. I had gone to get drinks for us when I turn around to find you no longer in the living room.

“Where’d she go? She was here like 10 seconds ago” I asked my brothers.

“Why am I supposed to keep track of your girlfriend? I don’t know where she is but she’s like a freaking quokka all of the sudden” Nick say not looking away from the tv.

Rolling my eyes at how unhelpful he is, I start looking around the cabin. It didn’t take me long to find you curled up on the little couch on the back porch. Hearing the door shut your attention shifts from staring off into space to my presence.

“Hi sweet girl, I had a feeling you’d be out here” I say making my way over to sit next to you. “What’s on your mind?” I question, pulling into my side draping your legs over my lap.

“Nothing really I’m just happy to be here with you guys. This place makes me happy. I’d love to move here one day” you say softly.

I let out a small hum in agreement. A comforting silence falls over us.

“You don’t have to tell me anything, I just want to say you look happier, like at peace with life. I can see the sparkle in your eyes, haven’t seen that in a while I missed it. I’ve noticed how in awe you are of everything, it’s special to see you find yourself again. You’re truly glowing the way you carry yourself you just exude happiness. You walk in a room and it immediately gets brighter. It’s not just me who’s noticed, Nick called you a quokka because you’ve of how happy and energetic you are”

“A quokka? I can’t tell if he meant that as an insult but I’m taking it as a compliment. I am happier, I didn’t think it was noticeable to other people. I’m on antidepressants they’ve made a huge difference. I just finally felt like it was time I took responsibility for my own happiness and I’m just happy to be alive. You’ve helped me so much I can’t thank you enough for everything. I love you” you share.

“I love you honey and there’s no need to thank me it was you who did all the work. I’m happy you’re happy, you deserve it”

“Happier than ever” you correct me.

taglist: taglist: @antisocialties @iluvmatt @dwntwn-strnlo @fake-coolbeans @opheliaofficial07 @angelcake-222 @oneirophobic @strniolo @lollibumblebee

[tiktaalic]

Re: taking vitamin b, are you vegetarian/vegan? I've been having issues with oversleeping too but i eat meat regularly and thought vitamin b was only for ppl who don't eat meat

Nope! I eat meat regularly at least once a day if not more. I have switched to eating more vegetables lately but that’s like. Subbing bread and pasta out for squash not eradicating my meat intake. when vitamin b fixed my issues I was like huh that’s weird why would I spontaneously develop a vitamin b deficiency with no recent lifestyle changes. I started googling and long term use of like. Antidepressants adhd meds etc can cause vitamin depletion for several different things. N it wasn’t like a hard and fast rule like. At month X vitamin X will be lowed so you should be taking supplements in X amount. It was like. It may or may not decrease this or this or this or this after some period of time. But I went from unmedicated to an antidepressant this summer. So. Best I can figure that’s what happened to me.

[reasonsforhope]

Your blog is a literal god send for me, I’ve been feeling so depressed, pessimistic, nihilistic and cynical at the state of the world right now and my fear of if I even have a future, but your blog is absolutely what I needed right now, so I can’t thank you enough. I’m just so happy to see someone who is hopeful and positive and not pessimistic, and it makes me legit want to cry tears of joy. How are you able to stay so positive and optimistic despite everything going on?

<3 <3 <3

As for how I stay optimistic and relatively positive? Lots of effort and hard work.

I'm not naturally an optimist. I spent most of my life (and certainly my adolescence lol) being pretty angry and cynical.

It's not that I never feel depressed or despairing about the state of the world. There's fucked up shit happening, indisputably, and hey, I'm trans, it's been a rough fucking year for that. But I guess I try to focus on the difference between passing moods and baseline worldview.

Some of the main ways I moved my baseline worldview to be optimistic and hopeful:

A lot of reading and looking at data and in-depth stories. The headlines never give you enough of the story - hell, most news articles don't these days, because they're so skewed toward negative news

Especially reading/looking at good news sites (I have a masterpost of good news sites here). There are good things happening everywhere that you never hear about. Mostly, you only ever hear about the good things when there's been a huge setback, which sucks!

I'm basically not on social media. Nothing except Tumblr, Facebook, and LinkedIn, and I only ever go on FB and linkedin briefly for business. It's fantastic, can't recommend ditching social media enough

I made sure I was doing something to help (aka I started this blog. I would also volunteer but my disabilities and a lot of logistics make that complicated)

My job involves reading a couple dozen self-help books a year lol, not gonna lie that def helps

Taking a long perspective of time. It often doesn't feel like it, but statistically, this really is the best time to be alive. (Here's a fantastic essay about many of the reasons why.) People really gloss over how much most of the past kinda fucking sucked to live in. 50% of all people used to die before their 15th birthday, for basically all of history until the past 200 years!! Imagine having to live with that. Imagine all of that pain and grief literally everywhere. I'm really happy about living in modern times, actually!

That last point is esp helpful to remember for me because I'm 100% for sure on the list of "people who would've died in childbirth" pre modern medicine (and my mom would've died having me, too). It was modern times or nothing lol

The vast majority of the world has spent the past 300 to 500 years being absolutely brutalized by white people and/or the West. There's still a lot of fallout to fix and colonialism to uproot, but I genuinely can't wait to see what people and nations will achieve with sustained self-rule and significantly fewer massive atrocities

Solarpunk and hopepunk stuff

I'm gonna make a whole post about this at some point but the fact that we eliminated scarcity in the past few decades actually changes the entire fucking game for the world (literally it's not a zero sum game anymore) and for the future. We're allowed a bit of a learning curve I think

I listen to the Rent soundtrack a lot and go "well you know what being trans right now sucks but being trans at the height of the aids crisis would've been way fucking worse" lol rip

Meds! Meds. Antidepressants and antianxiety meds unfortunately don't work for everyone (yet!), but also thank fuck for meds

Progress almost always happens in slow, tiny increments, with a lot of stops and starts and setbacks. You have to always remember that there are always people fighting somewhere, and if they're stopped, there will always be more people to pick up the fight in the future