#you know what fuck it my mental health isn't well enough to force myself through three hours of sth that will only make me feel way worse

[areyoudoingthis]

I really don't wanna go to this class today the weather's lovely I'm in a good mood there's even a nice huge tree I could go write under after lunch

[watashime-ciel]

explaining the reason why some songs were added to some of my RH playlists because i cant just drop that and not elaborate and i have nothing better to do

i believe the title cannot be clearer than that so. yeah

when i quote a lyrics from the song instead of explaining thats because its a piece of lore im not ready to share because its too personal, too explicit, too sad, or i simply dont want to. this can make you think whats going on with the goofy goobers and make your own headcanons or scenarios. maybe. idk. still, huge TW for lyrics touching mental health generally, su1cide, s/h, EDs and s3xual themes

and ocean o'connor rosenberg

STARTING WITH DJ YELLOW because i always follow the same pattern when i talk of rhythm heaven

RAT A TAT WRITER by FAKE TYPE.: one of his favourite electro swing songs, which he forced Red to make a cover of

Valentino by Olly Alexander: "i should've known not to trust Valentino."

Wanna Be Someone by Telehope: a comfort song for his grey days

Toon Bangers by FAKE TYPE.: his first feminine cosplay was DEMONDICE in Toon Bangers, debuting with Connie and Red in a big convention. they performed that song so it has a special place in his heart

Born This Way by Lady Gaga: guess. just guess. because yellow is the straightest person i know /j

Happy Pills by Weathers: "the voices in my right brain are kinda funny. they tell me, take a deep breath. it's always sunny." piece of lore i'm not ready to share, but maybe dj yellow isn't that happy after all

Help! Oh, Well... by I'm Something Else YT: literally the song explains everything. and yes he needs help /hsrs

Poison by Blake Roman: "what's the worst part of this Hell? I can only blame myself", "wish I had something to live for tomorrow"

Empty by Jaiden Animations and BoyInABand: "but it's so overwhelming and i hope no one can tell, cuz the numbers keep decreasing, this ordeal is becoming routine. check; arms, back, neck, thighs. suck it in and pinch my sides. the scales are betraying me, the mirror is a lie! numbers. it all comes down to numbers. i know it's wrong, but just because you know you're colourblind it doesn't means you can't see the colours. fine! i admit i'm addicted! but the hunger feels good, how do i quit this?! i know i could die, i've seen the statistics! but the voices are with me through thick and thin..."

Noel's Lament from Ride The Cyclone: Yellow is like Noel fr and he quotes "GOD DAMMIT WOULD YOU KEEP IT IN YOUR PANTS FOR JUST A SECOND YOU HORRIBLE SUCCUBUS!?" everyday

MEGANE by UltraNoob: ...he's a completely different person when he uses his glasses. way different.

Trapped In A Dream by RudyWade: the amount of times he woke up from a dream INSIDE A DREAM is insane, feeling like alive is not something he is during those moments. and he always feels like hes going to be trapped forever, which he hates because "the feeling of not being alive is not like not being alive, that's terrifying..". quote, "the clock is ticking, time's running out. i need to wake up, i need to shout. i need to find my way back to life. [...] wake me up, set me free from this dreaming misery. i need to feel alive again!"

Lagtrain by 稲葉曇: the whole song is one he finds the most melancholic of all. he usually hears Mako sing it, and he just breaks down to tears because its so magestic yet so sad and entertaining and melodic and-

Girls by MARINA: "look like a girl, but i think like a guy. not lady like to behave like a slime.", "is there any possibility you'll quit gossiping about me to hide your insecurities? all you say is blah, blah. girls, they never befriend me cuz i fall asleep when they speak of all the calories they eat! all they say is nanananana."

Magical Doctor by MARETU: literally the heaviest song he uses to vent emotionally. like- he screams along

I/Me/Myself by Will Wood: "i wish i could be a girl! and, really, i'd prefer it if you used 'i/me/myself'. am i pretty enough? am i pretty enough to fucking die!?"

bonus: cardigan by Taylor Swift. "you drew stars around my scars". this is something Blue voluntarely offered Yellow to do as a way of comfort and help with urges, also adding the rainbow breathing technique

the end. probably as i add more i will add more to this explanation list in a separate post

BLUE🗣️🗣️

Descartable by Tronic: a song he animated fully of him and all his friends (and yellow). it was the first time he got out his comfort zone

Space Age Bachelor Man from Ride The Cyclone: his ocs and Ricky are very much the same in terms of... lore. but not Ricky's lore. i mean the space Jesus lore. if you watched the musical you know what i mean

Tiempo by Darkar Alatriz (Vete A La Versh): this song hits me way too personally, as i always dedicate it to my deceased pet dog. i really cant get into much detail without hearing the lyrics in my head and thinking of her, but i dont want to keep this song out and act like its not there. i can only say Blue also lost something important to him at an age he considers young. but it wasnt a pet, but two people that are important for a young person whos still growing up

At Atelier by FAKE TYPE.: he sticks to the idea of "imagination has no limits" really well like Miss Atelier, always working hard to improve and finding inspiration everywhere

Candy by Paolo Nutini: okay. i cant act like this story didnt happen. at some point, Blue proposes to Yellow, and he obviously accepts. Candy was playing during Yellow's entrance. but this story happens in the future. waaaaay into the future... but

Cendrillon 10th Anniversary by DiosP: this is the song that replaced the classic waltz music. this song was also Blue and Yellow's debut in a cosplay contest as Cendrillon Miku and Cendrillon KAITO, winning on best performance btw

Alguien Como Tú by Jósean Log: this song is in Spanish, but its about a man in love with a woman. the woman either doesnt knows or doesnt feels the same for him, so he sings asking if she knows someone else with certain qualities she has, saying that if he cant be with her he wants to be with someone like her. during the years where Blue wanted to confess to Yellow but he was scared, he felt very much like this

Keep This To Myself by Casper Caan: the calm and melancholic tune of the song plus the chorus makes him think of the times he repressed his own feelings to help Yellow, as he is the one thats in danger almost everytime, not Blue. "Cuz I have a plan you don't know; i'll keep this to myself"

No Llora by El Cuarteto De Nos: i invite you to translate the lyrics to understand better. this is another song that hits me way too personally so i cant drop the lore. but have this in mind: Blue represses his own feelings so much that he can be a bit emotionless from the outside. now its because he wants to focus on Yellow's health first, but back in the day, he used to do it to prove himself he is strong enough to not cry for everything. although he would go back home and cry on Ann Gler's shoulder (Ann Gler took take of him during his childhood). thats all i can say. i cant quote anything because it burns

J.J

although many of those songs are what he plays on the guitar or sings, there are a few that go beyond that

Get Out The Way by Mother Mother: "i'm not antisocial, i'm just tired of the people. and i'm fine while rolling solo, so get out."

I Can't Handle Change by ROAR: "nothing i do is ever good. nothing i do is ever good enough. nothing i do is ever good. [...] leave me alone, leave me alone..." "i can't help but redeem myself, i know it's not your fault. still, lately i begin to shake for no reason at all."

all Megamasso songs: part of his lore, where he played in the Rhythm Heaven equivalent of Megamasso (Leo [Watashime Slug]'s band before WataSlug) as the second guitar

Christmas Kids by ROAR: "you'll change your name and change your mind, and leave this fucked up place behind, but i'll know, i'll know..." "if you ever try to leave me, i'll find you, Ronnie."

Wrecking Ball by Mother Mother: "you gotta see the artistry in tearing the place apart with me, baby. i am unruly in the stands. i am a rock on top of the sand. i am a fist amidst the hands, and i break it just because i can. let's break it just because we can! deface it just because we can! let's break it just because!... just because.... just because, just because..."

Do You Think About Me?: surprisingly, his mental health improved the instant he befriended Cecil, and got even better when they started dating. although, at some point, he got to a downfall. he becane a clingy person towards Cecil, always anxious if Cecil is being honest or not. in the end, they are the only shoulder he can cry on. "there's a fairytale in our song, it brought us together, gave us a new start. i was lost, falling apart. you gave me a spot somewhere in your heart... and act of God? a shooting star? you came from afar, with open arms... it was so dark, as cold as November almost over, i told ya..."

Cecil💥

What The World Needs from Ride The Cyclone: Ocean reminds them of their mother. she, in reality, was a very close minded, mean, homophobic and egocentric. if you didn't do something as she wanted, then the world doesn't needs you. thankfully she changed, but she was a pain in the ass. like Ocean. nobody likes Ocean.

the majority of songs that sound childish, are from kids shows, etc etc, stick to their desire of never growing up and enjoy a happy childhood they really didn't have. i don't know if it's age regression, at least in Cecil's case (but it is for another goofy goober i'm not specifying), but they find the most comfort in a childish environment, ambiented with music

Body by Mother Mother: us genderqueer people have been in that existential crisis where we even question ourselves if we even exist. well, it got to Cecil really fast the moment they let their hair grow enough to look at themself in the mirror and scream in confussion. and somedays it got really bad that they just- well- read the lyrics-

Towards The Sun by Rihanna: no their favourite movie is not Home. its more of the melancholic tune that they like. it also helps them release more tears when crying becomes a hard task, and even need help with that

we fell in love in october by girl in red: J.J AND CECIL STARTED DATING IN OCTOBER. I REPEAT, J.J AND CECIL STARTED DA-

i wanna be your girlfriend: the day before Cecil confessed felt like that for them

Empty by Jaiden Animations and BoyInABand: they struggle to eat. simple as that. maybe it's the colour, the shape, the smell, the taste... they just struggle and need time to finish a few bites. they're in their way tho, trying new foods everyday with J.J's help. the song is not directly on their playlist, it's just like a character soundtrack, as much of the lyrics can be connected to Cez

Last Effect by last note.: berore playing the guitar, they played the violin, and this song is one they played last before switching completely to the guitar. coincidently, both violin and guitar are essential on that song

with this we conclude the goofy goobers songs that have a reason to be in the playlists i made. yes i know their stories are sad. no i dont regret anything. yes much of those headcanons were made for my own comfort. no i dont give a shit whatchu think🫂

im cold guys its like 7° outside thats too cold

anyways GOOD NEWS i got a job (yippee) so i will finally get money to buy that one compilation visual kei album with watashime slug's kyo x batsu japanese version omfg im- guys. guys its a dream come true

bye guys drink wotah plz dont get dehidrated

[holkazmesice]

The thing is –⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠

(about trauma, being hurt, having emotional damage, baggage, living with consequences of events out of your control)

nobody owes you healing the mistakes of other people or mending your past.

I see a lot of tumblrians in my feed sharing personal intense feelings regarding BPD or traumatic responses and mechanisms stemming from their (C)PTSD and other mental illnesses that resulted from being mistreated or hurt (many times repeatedly). I myself was officially diagnosed with BPD almost 15 years ago now, C-PTSD 4 years ago, OCD 3 years ago, AuDHD this year. I've been getting panic attacks since I was 6 years old, suffered from insomnia my whole life and when I get overloaded or triggered, I cannot leave my flat and tend to heavily dissociate (to the point of not remembering what I did for hours, sometimes days). I think this needs to be said prior to my stream of consciousness, just in case. I am coming out from a place of experience with my own (sometimes failed) attempts at recovery.

There is no one else who should "fix" what others caused. I wish there was. I wish somebody was made responsible, held accountable and had to treat you nicely and with regards to trauma you have been through. I wish somebody would allocate people who would willingly put up with bullshit trauma causes you to think, fixate on, obssess about, who would reassure you constantly, kept you company for all eternity and never lost patience with you, regardless of how irrational your behaviour got. I wish it was possible to employ a new person to be everything somebody else wasn't just because you are in pain and need to heal.

But trauma doesn't mandate special treatment. It can provide explanation for sometimes erratic behaviour, disturbing thought patterns, unhealthy coping mechanisms, trauma responses during unpleasant interactions; but opening up about your past doesn't warrant you a happy ending just because you've suffered enough. Nobody else in the world owes you that kind of attention. That's Hollywood poppycock, tear-jerking movie logic, Spielberg-crafted illusion of closure. Hundreds and hundreds of books written about how it should work in ideal world. But in reality, is it really fair to hold any human responsible for somebody else's fuck up and expect them to fix it?

I am not trying to discourage anybody from seeking help, opening up to their friends or family, searching for a person nice enough to stick around for, by no means. I am talking about the "I told you I was hurt/traumatised by somebody doing X and you did X anyway" logic, very common phenomenon, especially in BPD brains. Expecting people to stick around just because they know how much it hurts you when somebody leaves – well, that's just emotional blackmail, isn't it? Is it actually healing, having "somebody to stick around for once", if said somebody can't leave you out of obligation, guilt or worry you will hurt yourself if they do? Does it amend past trauma if they genuinely don't want to stick around, but feel like they don't have a choice? (And doesn't that kind of make you the toxic one now? Do you want to become potential trauma to somebody else, knowing how much effort it takes to rid yourself of it?)

If they don't want to stay, don't force them. Maybe instead heal a little bit through letting go of somebody consciously and out of your own volition. Take control over your life again, don't make yourself miserable and feel worthless because of "another one gone, everybody leaves me anyway". They are not neccessarily another one to prove the pattern, nor should any individual human bear such kind of power over your mental health. Your mind holds the pattern. Don't mash somebody in an algorithm if they don't compute, don't let your fears become a self-fulfilling prophecy. Break the cycle and stay conscious of tendencies to shift your traumatic perception into a reality. Others are not obliged to love you unconditionally. You should be.

[my-brothers-corrupted]

How have things been recovery wise for everyone? A few of you were in therapy, one or two on meds. Are things okay concerning mental health? Have you made any realizations/breakthroughs you hadn’t before about the time you were trapped? I saw Chase refer to it as a cult. was that difficult to come to terms with for everyone?

It's a big question and they sit with it for a minute, apparently considering. Quintrell seems to have decided to continue minding her own business, as she doesn't look up from her phone.

"I think it's been complicated for everyone," says Marvin eventually. "We all have picked up some bad habits, and some good ones. I've really benefited from EMDR therapy. Talk therapy wasn't really helpful, but just going back and actually processing some of my fucked-up, broken memories... letting it all come back with someone there to help me through it, yeah, it helps. Always wipes me out for the whole day, of course. But at a certain point you have to start wrapping your brain around some of the shit that's happened to you."

He ducks his head. "Then again, I sometimes keep making bad decisions, and then... it's like, no matter how far along I get, I'm always just Blue again, the second I realize I fucked up. And then it's like... sometimes feels like... like maybe I'm not getting better at all."

Chase chatters in the back of the bus, swinging his legs back and forth. "I really like being away from Anti, and just realizing how much I hated him was so big for me, because he always forced me to feel like I loved him. So even after he was gone, I was glad he stopped hurting all of us, but I thought that I missed him. And as time has gone on and I've worked through it, I've realized I really don't miss him, at all. He really altered my memory from the constant hypnosis and amnesia right before he died, when he was trying so hard to keep Dapper and I. I still get blanks in my memory and I don't know that those will ever go away. But I love just feeling alive again and being a part of the world! I love seeing the kids, I love working, I love going out with Ash and feeling like a normal guy and somebody just - just loved, all the time. Everybody in my life is nice to me now, isn't that crazy? I like it, I like being free of him. My depression still kicks my ass sometimes, but that's really been coming and going, and when it's gone, it's gone! Right now it's gone. I'm happy. Thinking about making some big decisions in my life, just... embracing the independence."

He smiles at Henrik, kicking at him a little, trying to keep him out of his head. "What about you? On a normal day, not today."

Henrik sighs. "Good. I'm good."

Chase frowns at him and then makes a motion, like he's asking for more.

"What do you want me to tell them?" Henrik asks, looking suddenly tired. "I stay in the house all day and work? The nightmares still wake me up twice a week at least? It's fine, I'm well enough. This time last year, I didn't think I'd ever be able to work at all. I was just..."

"In bed," Chase mumbles, made sullen by the topic.

Henrik puts his chin in his hand, turning to look out the window. "I couldn't take care of myself."

"You're a lot better than that now."

"Yes," agrees Henrik, a little dully.

"You just need a change," Chase powers on. "Seriously, I think we should talk more about you coming to be a doctor with me at the hospital."

Henrik glances at him uncertainly. "It would be good to work together again... right?"

"Totally," says Chase, turning his whole body towards him. "Wouldn't you like that? We could ease you back into it. The hospital's great, Schneep, I have a lot of friends there! They'd love you too."

Henrik gives him this tense, uncertain smile.

"How are you, Jackie?" Max asks, setting his head on his shoulder for a moment. Jackie looks back at him, focusing on his face.

"Good, yeah. I've made leaps and bounds. It was the fear, for me, that was the big thing. The longer we were safe, the more the feeling faded. And I used to think that feeling was 'angry.' But then I got settled and realized that feeling is 'scared.' That was my realization. Now I don't even want to hit anybody anymore, most of the time. I don't snap at the others, because I don't feel that they're in danger all the time. I feel steady when my things are where they should be and everyone does what they're supposed to."

Max grins. "Yes... but then that means that when things aren't where they should be, or we're running late to work, or you're too sick to make me dinner one night..."

Jackie scowls. "I don't like that."

"And then we kind of end up with Red again."

Jackie grabs his chin with a little too much intensity. "I want you to have what you need and not get hurt by anyone, ever."

Max takes his hand and kisses him again. "We work through the difficult days and the thrill-seeking. You're still my man, even when you're down."

Jackie gazes at him fondly, stroking his chin. "Yeah."

[off-topic-ig]

Long post incoming!

TL;DR I had a shitty transphobic therapist and I'm glad I didn't let her turn me into her.

I felt this way with one of my past therapists. I mentioned that I dated a non-binary person and she just went on a big transphobic tirade about "gender confusion" bullshit, pushing cis-het normativity on me. She also tried to push religion on me after I told her I wasn't religious.

Towards the end she told me "I can tell you don't know who you are, and I can tell you don't like yourself." And that statement was and still is not completely inaccurate. I've struggled my entire life with depression and self-loathing.

But here's the thing. I may not know who I am, but I know who I'm not. I'm not her, and I'm glad I'm not like her. I may have hated myself, but in spite of that I had enough self-respect to see past her bullshit and recognize what she was doing, and it pissed me off.

She was trying to deconstruct me and reconstruct me as she saw fit. Trying to take away my sense of self and turn me into a clone of her by forcong her worldview on me. Trying to make me a bigot just like her.

Well she made one mistake. I may hate myself, but I hate transphobia more. I have a sibling who at the time, recently came out to me as gender-fluid. And let me tell you, my sister is my best friend and I would take take a bullet for her.

I didn't say anything. I'm a very non-confrontational person, always have been. But not a day goes by where I don't wish that I had blown up on that shitty therapist. I fantasize in my head about standing up to her, standing up for my beliefs, standing up for my queer friends and family, standing up for myself. I fantasize about calling her out for being a bigot, for pushing a restrictive, oppressive worldview on me and who knows how many other patients.

I came to her because I was broken. I was depressed and needed guidance. I needed help. I was in a place of deep vulnerability. She recognized that, and chose to take advantage of me. Not sexually or anything like that, but psychologically, she wasn't interested in helping me, she was interested in converting me to her cause. One that hurts people. People I love and care about. She forced her beliefs on a vulnerable person. She abused the inherent power imbalance of a professional and a patient for her own ends.

I was broken. I was broken and she took advantage of me.

But a broken blade is still sharp.

Sharp enough to cut through her bullshit.

I may not know who I am, but I know who I'm not. I'm not like her. And I'm proud of that. And the fact that I struggle so much with depression and so rarely feel pride in anything should show you how strongly I felt about that.

Funny thing is, I think she actually did help me, just not in the way she thought she would. Sometimes we need a villain to fight against. Sometimes evil inspires good. I still don't fully know who I am, but I know what I believe in. And I partially have her bigotry to thank for reinforcing my beliefs.

Trans rights are human rights, non-binary people are valid, it's okay to be exploring your gender and sexuality, love is love, queerness is natural.

Mental health matters and if you're feeling depressed you should see a therapist, I wanna be clear that I'm not anti-therapy. But not every therapist is a good therapist that has your best interests in mind. Recognize when a therapist isn't for you. You owe it to yourself.

Sorry for the long-post, but I saw this and I wanted to tell my story. I think about that session a lot.

But anyway yeah.

Trans rights. Fuck the establishment. Thanks for reading.

^-^

[gremjaylin]

I want to cry, I need to cry, but I can't get myself to cry

It's so hard to get my body to let me cry, even in private

And why do I want to cry right now? Because apparently my mother cares too much about a math test that doesn't even affect my final grade

Because apparently she doesn't want to listen to me when I say that I will get better before the midterm exams and final exams

She says I don't have enough time, but don't I have a whole month or 2 to study? Don't I have the time to focus on my studies? Maybe if you didn't take me outdoors so much, I'd actually try to get better with math and science

I'm always so ashamed and scared to ask for help

I'm scared to admit I don't understand something and I let myself suffer as I struggle to understand what is being explained in the book

I want to cry because I don't consider the test important

And I'm not alone in this belief as a classmate of mine even said "It's not really important, but we still have to take it"

It's so unimportant that if I missed a day of school where there was a test, I wouldn't be forced to take it the next day nor would I have consequences for missing it

Why is it that my mother cares so much about it? If you care about my future and my final grade, why do you degrade me, why do you insult and hurt me, why do you care about something that doesn't even fucking apply to the final grade?

Do you even care about me?

Of course you don't

You never did

When I said I don't feel mentally ok or well enough to go to school the next day, you acted like it wasn't a big deal

You acted like it has no affect on my studies

You just advised me to not talk about my family problems with anyone in the school

You didn't give a shit if these family problems are actually affecting me and my studies

You didn't give a shit to think that the possibility of you and my father divorcing is what's going to give me a horrible grade

You never cared about mental health

You never cared about how much pain I'm actually going through

You never cared about how demotivated I am, how much I hate school, how much I genuinely want to cry every night and day because I know that I'm going to school against my will

Every night after school, I want to cry and sob in my bed because I have to go to school tomorrow

On school days, I pray that I get sick so I can have an excuse to not attend

I told you I prefer to be homeschooled

I told you I feel I do better studying at home than at school

But you didn't care

You don't care if I genuinely studied and tried hard to understand and memorize everything but still failed

You don't care to try to lift my spirits

You don't care to say "You did your best" or "I will help you with whatever you need help with" in a kind and caring tone

No

Instead you hurt me by calling me an idiot, calling me the R slur, you demotivate me further and make me feel even worse by saying I'm just a lazy bum that does nothing but play

You don't know how much I genuinely want to die because of these things

You don't know how much I want to ask for help, but I feel ashamed to do it, especially since you're the one that said "You're a teenager, you're supposed to be responsible, you should do your studies by yourself"

I know you said I can ask for help as long as it isn't the entire book

But you need to understand that this is how I've lived my entire life

Scared to ask for help out of shame because I'm expected to do excellent work, because I'm expected to already understand, because I used to get the highest grades and scores in my class and I was proud of it and now I'm scared to show that I still need help

Idk if there's something wrong with me, but I do know that if you tried to be a little bit more kinder, if you tried to let me have my mental health breaks, if you tried to listen to me and understand me better, if you tried to actually care, if you tried to let me do it by myself instead of you reminding me

Things would've maybe been different

[apatheticveil]

Here we go again...

I want to meet the person that decided to make a large change in their life, stuck to it first time and succeeded. Is this a thing? I'm not talking about those that needed to quickly otherwise their lives were on the line. I mean habits or lifestyle changes that were going to increase the quality of life (but not necessarily kill it if you didn't do it)

I won't lie and say that I've ever been good at taking care of myself. Any aspect of self-care seems to have a wavering success rate. Skin, weight, food, health, hair, mental stability, everything.

The want to change and improve has been there for years. The actual motivation hasn't. Many attempts have fallen through.

I think the straw that broke the camel's back was bursting into tears when a colleague that I barely knew passed away. I was at my heaviest weight with terrible skin, drinking copious amounts of alcohol every day and eating whatever I could get my hands on. I had mood swings like a motherfucker and seemed to be stressed after the smallest inconvenience. Not only that but every 2 weeks, I seemed to get sick.

What does that have to do with crying over someone dying?

I cried 2x while at work and even though it was a sad event, I seemed to have taken it super hard. Even though I didn't know him well or spent much time with him. Queue to 3 hours later when I burst into tears 2 more times over my employee review. It was positive with one minor thing I needed to watch out for. I even knew it was something I wasn't good at. But apparently it upset me beyond belief.

I came home that night, drunk, swollen from crying and feeling sick wondering why the fuck I had cried so much. I think this is where I had finally hit the last of my tolerance. Guess what. I had to call in sick the next day too as whatever happened caused my body not to cope.

Now you would think I would resolve to make a change then and there. But nope. Took me another 3 months afterward to actually make the first step. That day was just when I knew that I wasn't in a good space. Mentally or physically.

Over those 3 months, my attention, stamina and energy got lower and lower and all parts of my personal and professional life suffered. I turned into the surly girl who couldn't hold a conversation (because I simply stopped caring what was being said) I would forget almost everything. My empathy was completely gone. And I started getting sick more and more.

I had to wait 6 weeks to have my anxiety medication balance my chemicals again (of course, I just had forgotten to take it for nearly 6 months). This seemed to be the one thing that gave me enough focus to look into a resolution.

I joined the weight loss challenge at my work. Not because I thought I could win. But because I wanted the humiliation of people knowing my weight. And being forced every week to stand up and have people watch the number on the scales. I'm a manager at my work. The only manager participating. In fact, I'm in the competition against one of my employees. I needed that level of embarrassment to show that maybe something isn't right here.

I joined the gym. Only because a handful of people in my life wanted to as well and I needed them to keep me accountable. This is going to come up again later. Also the fact I would now have to spend $90 a month (in a shit ass economy) so the want to exercise will be balanced with the fact I don't wanna waste money right now.

I spoke with a close friend (shout out Jamie) who also wanted to make changes in her life. Just knowing someone else was looking into self improvement made the thought not so daunting. Being asked how my progress was going made the answer of "not well, haven't done anything" more motivating. I hate seeing those words.

We had all these goals and I had shared them with a couple of other people. And I tried believe me I did.

But this is where things began to change for the better. And trust me, this is going to sound incredibly stupid. After looking at my list, i realised that in order for me to achieve anything, I need to actually heal myself. I was nowhere close to be able to physically or mentally do it. I would fail constantly. I don't have it in me to make these big changes and that's okay. I need to work on being okay enough so I can.

Lose weight? Sure. But maybe getting up in the morning without feeling like death would be a better start. Work on skin routine so that I have a perfect complexion? Not insane. But maybe look into eating a decent meal that doesn't make me nauseas would be a little better. Work out 5x a week? Maybe not snapping at everyone because I don't care what they're talking about is a little more important.

That is what clicked in my head. I'm not going to achieve anything if I can't function like a basic human being. I need to get through a month without feeling sick. I need to wake up feeling okay. I need to eat a meal and feel my body actually accept instead of reject. I need to go into a day with a positive outlook, not instantly a negative one.

The shift mentally seemed to have opened up my eyes. And this shift was only able to happen with having the positivity of the people around me and being very strict with my anti-depressants.

So with this in mind, I took awhile to process. What can I do to achieve this. I need to be healthier. Just so I have the strength to change. Have I tried being healthier in the past? Sure, and it fucking failed. Why? And that's where all of this really changed.

Psychologically, how do I work? What things work for me? How do I respond? I'm stubborn. Stubborn as fuck. I can use the "salesperson" gift and talk and manipulate. I need to be told. I need rules and I need to be held accountable. Being a strong, independent woman with no sense of what is good for you has fucked me up big time.

So I talked to the doctor. These are my issues. Do I need to be concerned? From a medical stand point, i'm okay for now but heading down a bad path. Great! Tell me the truth. Make me scared.

Next, I searched for a nutritionist. I hate food. I hate cooking. I hate shopping for food and meals and everything. I hate it with every fibre. But this is how we survive as a species. Fuck it alright. Tell me in plain terms what I need to eat. Stay on my ass. Keep an eye on me. If you let me wander, I will. If you give me any slack, i'll take it. I'm undisciplined with a strong head. Give me an inch, i'll fucking make a gigantic valley. The nutritionist I found offered all of the above. A 12 week plan where I have to check in with her. Meal plans, recipes, tests. A fucking app where I can message her. An app where I have to upload a food diary and she reads it every week. That there is what works for me. I need someone to watch over my shoulder but for my own good. Now for someone to surview me this close mustn't be cheap. And you're right. Just for the consults alone, i'm looking at close the $1k. Thats not including supplements, extra testing and oh yeah....THE FOOD. But like the gym. I'm paying money i dont really have to spare for this to happen. I'm guilted into making this work.

She works with gut health. An issue I've had since 5 mins into my life. Constant tummy aches, nausea, bloating, vomiting, food intolerances. Everything. On and off for my entire life. This isn't about losing weight. This is about health. I need to feel okay to make a change.

And here we are. I've been working with her for a month now and already i'm way better. She listens so intently and creates a personalised plan. This means I know that all the effort is for things specific for me. Not for the masses. I'm working on gut health, heart health and skin. Luckily, these seem to be very cohesive with one another.

So now that we are at this point, I finally feel like I have the energy to start looking forward at goals. Realistic goals.

The next 30 days, i'm about to enter into a plan to address some of these health issues. I have SIBO. You should have seen me when I found out. I was so happy. Finally something to grasp onto. A strict eating plan and an in depth supplement regimen. It's going to be hard but I maybe able to finally feel okay. This is where it all turns around. I can feel it. I'm so positive that this is a turning point. I want this blog to show and reflect my life changing (for the better).

[iamthecomet]

But see, the problem here is not that they care too much, no. They’re just way too selective about what they care about. My mental health is a joke to them. If i don’t feel mentally good enough to go see people or go to school, they won’t give a fuck. It’s always all about appearances to my mom. I remember, when i was 16, i used to do a lot more performance anxiety than i do now to the point where my school had to call my parents to tell them i might be transferred the the scholar adaptation program if i continued being as anxious as i used to be, and my mom forbid me from missing more classes because of my anxiety and she only told me she didn’t want me to end up in that program. She couldn’t have cared less about my anxiety.

also another time she forced me to go to school when i told her i wasn’t doing well and once i got back home i had a 40°c fever

and one last thing she did when i was 13 that i still hold a grudge against her for, she waited for me to fall asleep and fucking looked through my dms without my consent.

the times she cares it’s overwhelming, it’s too much, but most times she doesn’t care enough and still ends up being too much

-🪱

I'm so sorry you've been treated that way. Parents are HARD. And so many are lacking the tools necessary to treat their kids with the respect and understanding they deserve. They are constantly in the mindset of they know what's best--but that isn't always true. They can't know you better than you do. My parents didn't realize that they had anxiety--and they'd given it to me--until I was an ADULT and were finally able to put a name to it. It's frustrating. It made some parts of my childhood really, really hard. I catch myself perpetuating it sometimes and I have to like drag myself away from it and remind myself of WHY I do these things (and that it is not a normal reaction).

[aficwhore]

Truth Is

Chapter 1: A Night Many Months Ago

Frankie "Catfish" Morales x F!reader

Summary: When reuniting for the mission in Colombia, Frankie and the reader (nicknamed "Chipmunk"), bicker due to their rocky past. After some angry exchanges, a few truths come out, changing both of their perspectives. Will the relationship be mended? Or once this is over, will they go back to the way things were before?

Word Count: 3K

Warnings: explicit language, blood, violence, guns/weapons, lots of angst and emotions, infidelity, talk of sex and sexual encounters, drinking, mentions of drugs, talk of death, and talk of mental health(PTSD, depression).

A/N: This was inspired by the song "Truth Is" by Sabrina Claudio. I want to make this a series (my first series ever), but it's still being decided, so please let me know if you want this to be continued! And I am still taking requests and prompts! Thanks Lovelies <3

"Cmon, please Chip, we can't do this without you." Santiago begged, his hands clasped together in front of him to show his desperation as he stood before me in my small apartment kitchen. I sighed, glancing around our surroundings. He had come to ask about joining one last escapade, one last job and we'd all be set for the rest of our lives.

Finally breaking the silence and meeting his weary gaze, "Who all have you rounded up? If Will or Benny said no, there's no way I'm doing it without them." I took another deep breath, turning to continue the dishes I had been doing when Pope showed up.

Santi's face began to light up, his stance growing slightly as he grinned, "Great! They both wanted in, so did Tom." Seeming relieved he leaned against the counter next to the sink and crossed his arms.

"And F-Fish?" I hesitated, pausing the scrubbing on the porcelain dish in my hand. It felt like the air in my lungs no longer existed. My heart began to pound it's way up my throat and into my ears.

His head dipped down, feeling the concern laced in my voice. Clearing his voice, he quietly explained "Haven't asked him yet, he was last on my list."

I silently placed the last dish onto the rack near the sink and wiped my wet hands on my jeans, looking down and watching the wet marks gradually making themselves known. No longer forcing myself to make eye contact, I nodded at the ground.

"Look, querida, if you two just talked I'm sure it would work out." He pushed himself off the counter and stepped towards me, reaching a hand out and gently rubbing my shoulder to console me. "But don't let this change your mind, we really do need you."

"When are you going to mention it to him?" I breathed out, wanting to keep any and all emotions at bay. His hand on my arm squeezed, as if he was trying to give me some courage.

"Tonight, at Benny's fight, I thought his spirits would be up enough to persuade him." He chuckled lightly, knowing his plan was to take a little bit of advantage of Frankie's mood.

I laughed softly, "Definitely sounds like a Santi move if you ask me."

He smirked and shook his head "I know, shame on me." As he dropped his hand back to his side he quirked, "You should come tonight, we can go out for drinks after the fight, relax a little before we leave tomorrow."

It took me a second to register what he said, but when I did I burst out "wait what?! Tomorrow? Santi, why didn't you tell me that? You forgot the biggest detail!"

He cowered down slightly, rubbing the back of his neck "Because I knew you'd yell at me, it was worth a shot putting off the anger a little longer." He smiled coyly.

Rolling my eyes I couldn't help but forgive his dumb smile. "Well it starts soon, why don't I get my things real quick and we can head to the arena together?"

His smile widened, "Of course!" I grabbed my purse and keys, making sure to turn off the lights and lock the door behind me. As we made our way down the elevator and out to his car, Santi told me a few details about the missions and the plan. But once we got into his rinky dink ford truck, I turned to him.

"About Frankie, I'm sure one of the boys told you, but just in case; his license was revoked." Santi's face contorted with confusion.

"What? How? Did he crash or hurt somebody?" He questioned quickly.

After taking a breath of courage I spoke, "No Pope. He-He was caught with coke."

Santi stayed quiet, turning the engine on. "I don't get it" A sad expression plastered on his face.

With a furrow in my brow I spoke again, "What don't you get? He was doing drugs, hardcore ones at that". I began to ramble more, "For what reason, I'm not sure, maybe the PTSD and depression. Maybe he felt he had no one to go to-"

"Stop. I know." He cut me off while finally shifting the gear into drive and moving up forward. "You can't blame anyone for this. All we can do is move on and help him. He's our friend, okay? But I know he's still the same Fish, just a little turned around."

"I know, okay. I can't help it. From what the boys told me, he seems to be a lot better." I added, stirring in my seat. "Anyways, it's been awhile since all of us have been back together. It's exciting."

Santi snickered, "But didn't you all hang out while I've been out of the U.S.?"

Seeing that we're close to the arena's parking garage I explained, "I mean, yea, but only me, Ironhead, Benny and Fish. I haven't talked to Redfly in months, we all had a fallout with him. Especially me."

"Tom didn't say anything when I talked to him, Do you wanna fill me in?" He asked with a quirked eyebrow.

Huffing, I turn to face him, telling him the events of that night.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~flashback~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The four of us, the Millers, Frankie and I sat on my couch, watching TV and talking, when we hear a bang at the door. I got up to open it and find Tom slumped on the doorway. He looked rough and smelled like he had been drinking the past several days. "Woah, Tom, you're really drunk, and you drove here?"

He snapped, beginning to yell, "Who are you to judge me? Huh? My wife left me, this is how I cope." He angrily pushed his way past me and tumbled into the living room. He was greeted with the boys standing around him with concerned faces.

"What the hell were you thinking? You know how dangerous that is? You know you could've called and we would've been there for you!" I raised my voice back, causing Tom to swing around to face me.

He laughed darkly, "Oh shut up 'Miss Perfect,' just like you did for Fish? When he was nose deep in coke? Or are you too self obsessed? Or do you just have favorites!"

"Hey man, that's not cool." Will interrupted and tried to get a handle on Tom. Frankie lowered his head in embarrassment. Will reached forward and placed a hand on his back, but things escalated more.

"Oh okay, yea protect the whore, we all know she's there for you guys more than just talking. I wouldn't doubt it if you all fucked her too. But me? Nah, you leave me out of everything." Tom howled, yanking away from Will and slurring his words and no longer making sense.

Anger becoming more prominent, I spoke, "Seriously?! Whore?! How is it my fault that you push us away and don't let us help? We include you in everything, but you have your head so far stuck up your ass you never show up!" I've come face to face with him, my hot breath and voice blowing into his face above me. "And another thing, I'm not a whore, you asshole, I'm with Frankie!"

He leaned closer to me, his breath reeking of alcohol, "Just him? Does he know where you're at everyday Monday and Wednesday at 1?! I doubt it!"

Frankie speaks up, "What? What is he talking about?" A devilish smirk makes its way to Tom's face.

"Nothing, I swear it's nothing." I try to explain, making eye contact with my partially hurt lover.

"Tell him, tell him you've been seeing a 'Dr. Philips.' Go on, do it." He rubs it in.

Looking behind Tom, I saw Frankie looking like his world had just shattered. "You've been seeing someone?!"

Panicking, I speak, "Yes, but it's not what you think, I promise!"

"Then what is it?" Tom adds, stumbling back a foot and crossing his arms contently at the damage he just caused.

Benny spoke up, knowing the truth about who I was "seeing." "You need to leave man, you have no right to say shit like that. You don't know the real situation"

Tom burst, yelling "I want her to admit it! I want her to admit that she isn't the perfect bitch she makes herself out to be!"

"Fuck you! Get the hell out of my house!" I scream, tears slightly welling in my eyes. "Frankie-" I turn to him, but to find him grabbing his things. "Baby please, let me explain."

"Explain what? You've been cheating on me?" his voice is loud, and cracks slightly.

A tear breaks its way down my cheek, "I haven't, Frankie, please believe me." I grab his hand, trying to stall his movements, but he pulls away.

"You just admitted it!" He frowns and yanks his hand away and heads for the door.

"That's right Fishie boy! Leave her, she's no good anyway!" Tom squawks as Benny grabs a hold of him and shoves him to the door, Will right behind to help.

"You bastard!" I lunged forward and swung my hand, landing right on the side of his face with a loud crack. Frankie spun around, startled at my actions.

The action only fueled Tom's anger because he ripped away from Benny's grip and grabbed me. I didn't back down and started to shove him and swing my arms, hitting him in the face and chest as he fought back.

But just as quickly as the fight started, it ended. Frankie tore me off of Tom, pinning me to his chest and stopping my brutal hits. Will and Benny wrested Tom into submission and dragged him out of the front door as he yelled slurs at me, and dumped him outside with a battered face.

While the brothers were dealing with a drunk Redfly, Frankie scolded and verbally fought with me.

"Just tell me! Who is Dr. Philips!" He questioned, slightly shaking me by the shoulders.

With many emotions running through my head, I couldn't process what was going on. "I-I can't, Frankie, I can't even admit it to myself." Tears streaming down my face I brought my hands up to the sides of his face. "But you have to believe me, por favor (please)."

Francisco looked like he was fighting an emotional battle in his mind. He finally spoke, "Either you tell me, or I leave, I can't do this, not if you keep things from me."

Feeling my heart break, I whispered "Please, mi amor (my love), don't make me. I'm not strong enough." My eyes now running like an open faucet and my hands tightly pressed to his cheeks.

He blinks away tears, reaching his hands up to grab mine and pull them away from his face, "Then I have to go." He drops my hands and turns to leave.

"Por favor no me dejes! (Please don't leave me)" I call after him, watching as he heads out of the door and into the night, leaving me alone. I drop to the floor, tears blurring my vision and all that can be heard are my sobs.

After what feels like hours, Will and Benny return, picking me up off the floor and taking me to my bed. They lay me down, attempting to help my emotional breakdown. They pick up whatever mess that was left after the event of that night.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~end flashback~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

"And after that night, Tom was no longer invited anywhere with us. Frankie distanced himself and refused to talk to me. But Will and Benny did their best to be there for me in any way they could. They did the same for Frankie. But as for Tom, they casted him out, because he changed, badly." I finished covering the story of that night, fighting the tears that threatened to spill. "And the Dr. Philips I was seeing, was my therapist. I didn't want anyone to know I wasn't okay mentally. I was embarrassed and part of me didn't want to admit I needed help. The lives we chose aren't easy."

Santi parked, and seemed shocked, "I'm sorry love, I knew you split with Fish, but didn't know any details or about Tom." He reached over and patted my thigh sympathetically. "I really am sorry that you went through all of that because Tom was an asshole. You really don't have to do this-"

"No I want to, I'm in a better place, so is everyone else." I smiled shyly, wanting to lift the spirits. "So what do you say? Let's go wrangle up our boys and get rich?"

Pope smiled brightly, "Hell yes!" We both got out of the car, and headed to the back of the arena and knocked, hoping Will was there to open it like he told Santi he would. Much to our luck, the door swung open to reveal a tall, smiling, blonde Miller brother.

"Brother!" Santi chuckled as he pulled the eldest Miller into a hug, clapping each other on the back. They pulled away as Pope headed inside to find the others.

"Hey pretty girl, long time no see." Will joked, hugging me tightly.

I scoffed, "Will, you were just at my house last night." We both laughed and he led me into a rank smelling locker room, which I assumed was for Benny to get ready. As we rounded the corner, I saw Benny and Tom chatting on one of the benches between the lockers.

"Chipmunk!" Benny roared as he ran over, picked me up and spun me around. "I missed you! I'm so glad you could make it!" He sat me back down and stepped back to sit on the bench again.

"Of course, I wouldn't miss you getting your ass beat for the world!" I giggled as I winked at him, showing the younger of us a bit of love.

He shook his head with a grin. As my eyes left him, they met with the eyes of Tom. He seemed to have a look of regret, trying to give me a sad smile.

I walked over to him, reaching my hand in a fist forward, lightly tapping his shoulder, "Hey fly, how you been?"

A small wave of relief washed over him as he responded "I'm good Chip, how are you? And look I'm really sorry, I wasn't in a good place and I regret-"

"Its okay Tom, really, it is. I'm just glad you're better. It's water under the bridge." I sit next to him and pat his back, showing that all, or at least most, is forgiven.

He nods slowly, "Thank you, it means a lot that you're here."

"Oh cmon you have to admit it, you couldn't do it without me, the best there is." I pretend to act over confident and burst into laughter. And Tom joins in.

As Tom and I begin to catch up, talking about what we've missed these past several months, I overhear a conversation.

"Hermano (brother)! How are you?" Santi greets Frankie, I assume, he was the last of us, who wasn't already here. When I realize that it is him, my heart begins to race. My skin starts to burn and get hot, my palms becoming sweaty.

"Pope! Benny! Ironhead! What is this, a reunion?" Frankie's voice echoes as they come closer. As the three round the corner, "All we need is Redfly and Chip-" Frankie stops as we become revealed to him. Tom gets up immediately and struts over to give Fish a hug. Frankie's face lights up with glee and hugs him back. When they step away from each other, I wearily stand up and all he does is give an awkward smile and nods in my direction.

Benny attempts to whisper to Santi, "Ouch, that's cold." And Santi jabs him in the stomach with his elbow, causing him to double over and make a "hmf" sound.

Being slightly hurt, I break the uneasy tension by opening an invitation, "Alright well I'm gonna go get a beer and find us some good seats, it's close to showtime!" Faking a smile I continue, "Who's coming?"

"Me, I can't be in here with this doofus anymore." Will chuckle as he ruffles Ben's hair and follows right behind me.

When we make it to the concession stand and order beers, Will taps my arm, "How are you feeling?"

With a sigh, "Honestly I expected that, but it hurt more when it actually happened. But what can I say." I grab out drinks from the concession worker and thank her and turn on my heels to find a seat. "I love him, and if that means waiting to mend things, it worth it, even if it means waiting forever."

Will offers a sympathetic grin. "It'll work, just watch. Oh! Over there! Perfect seats!" He points as his attention was caught by an opening near the rink. He pursues it as I follow behind.

While we sit, we joke around, waiting for the rest of the gang to come sit and watch Benny get thrown around. Finally the last three show up and sit with us, Tom sat on Will's right side, me on his other side, Santi on my left, but when Frankie walks up, he bends down and whispers to Santi, causing him to scoot further away from me and leaving room for Frankie to slot himself between us. Which took me by surprise. Once he was seated, he glanced over to me and gave me a genuine smile.

We don't say a word as the lights begin to dim and the announcer's voice breaks through the speaks, introducing our dear Benny and his opponent.

Our small group starts to cheer and scream Benny's name, to show him support. As he enters the rink, he searches for us, and when he finds us, he smiles big.

In the midst of all the commotion, Frankie leans over and whispers to me, "I missed you, cariño (sweetheart)."

My face whips around to meet a very close Fish, who is smiling. "I missed you too." I give a small smile and lean to my side to shoulder bump him, as he places a hand on my knee.

[acuriousbecoming]

Guess this counts as Part Four

Some people think I shouldn't talk about this whole psychiatric episode I've been going through for the past year.

That I shouldn't tell stories about my ridiculous, uninvited voices.

That I shouldn't share details about my nightmarish hallucinations and increasingly grandiose delusions.

But, like...

What else am I supposed to do? Hide it? Pretend like a year of my life just never happened? Pretend like the rest of my life, trying to figure out how to live with it, and live in spite of it, isn't going to happen?

Should I make up an imaginary real best friend, so I have an avenue through which to tell the stories about my real imaginary best friend, with whom I spent a year, having the strangest and most hilarious conversations of my entire life? My imaginary best friend, who may not actually exist outside of my head, but without whom I would been completely lost, and might not have actually survived the entire experience? The best friend who not only talked me through the nightmares and hallucinations, but who also happens to be the sole reason I am strong enough in the aftermath to collapse in laughter at the absurdity and mystifying nature of whatever the fuck it was my brain fancied it was doing?

How else are people supposed to know that the benefit available to me- someone who's spent my entire adult life actively seeking mental healthcare to manage my conditions, someone who has documented medical proof that I was being responsible, that I tried over and over and over to reach a point where I could work, or at least remain stable enough to prevent my entire life from going off the rails- how are people supposed to know that millions of people of people like me, with this and other chronic medical conditions, who have been unable to pay into disability because they've never been able to work, are only eligible for $773 a month through SSI?

How else are people supposed to know that those memes they post saying shit like, "onlyfans, because she doesn't want to deal with her mental health," are just... superlatively idiotic? That's basically the only option our society has made available to women who regularly experience extended periods of time unable to work or function, as a result of mental health disorders that need a far higher quality of care than that provided through Medicaid and a frankly insulting $800 a month to live on? And that is not an inherent jab at sex worker, but the fact that we can't even observe the honest truth- that sex work is, unquestionably, a distress sale of labor for countless women (and men) with no other options- without having the conversation derailed to the matter of whether sex work is valid is a major red flag that the conversations we are having around both issues separately is inherently dishonest.

Basically, if you want to be able to, you know, buy toilet paper and dish soap and whatever, but you don't want to be a sex worker… I guess you could just… find a mate to support you financially? Be forced into dependency? Hope you find one you actually like and trust enough that you're okay with staying, because the alternative puts you back to square one? Or be perpetually shopping around for a model that is stable, who you can stand, regardless of how you change or grow or feel?

Nah. This is bullshit. I don't give a fuck if people say I'm crazy. I'm not crazy at all. I have conditions that can cause me to behave in erratic ways if not properly managed. For example-

By the stress of being homeless.

By being forced into relationships or occupations that chip away at my emotional and psychological well being.

By being consistently told that these things are shameful, and will make people uncomfortable, or cause them to look down upon me.

I quite literally spent a year trying to save the planet. That may be crazy and hilarious and absolutely ludicrous, but I did. Day in and day out, I pushed myself to my limits. I went without sleep. I went without food. I sat through hallucinations I believed were very real, that were absolute and unmitigated torture, over and over and over again, because I was absolutely committed to helping everyone else. No matter what.

I withdrew from and isolated myself from family and friends. I absolutely believed that, since saving everyone included saving them, they would understand as soon as it was all over.

And when I ended up in homeless camps, and saw people in need, I brought them all of my possessions- everything I could spare- and gave them all away. Dishes, cookware, medical supplies, hygiene products. Coats and blankets and pillows.

And I distributed my makeup and my jewelry and my clothing to other homeless women, because I acutely understand the need to feel good about one's self, in whatever way works best for you, when life is at its worst.

I gave all of the things that had once been the center of my very small existence to my new friends who had it worse than I- one of whom had stolen the boots literally off my feet. When I realized she was the one who had taken them- she, to whom I had given the most- I smiled, and gave her what I had left, and then got her to calm the fuck down.

Because, hooooooly fuck, let me tell you... That girl also fights every person she sees, including the invisible ones, and she can't even stay in the same homeless camp for very long, on account of all the yelling and stealing and fighting.

And that's unbearably sad indeed, because the homeless are the only ones willing to look after her for even a short while. There is literally no one to consistently aid or look after this woman, who, at the moment of my revelation about who had taken my beloved boots was wearing only one of them, several sizes too small for her, paired with a sneaker. That is the level of function a person can devolve to- unable even to pair shoes- when they are not receiving the proper care and medication for their conditions.

Because she also has a schizotypal illness, but is so very much further gone than I. She needed the care and attention and help, and boots, the most, so I was humbled and glad to do it, on my mission to save the world.

The fact that my quest sprung from my imagination makes the fact that it happened to me no less real. It doesn't erase the impact it had, and will continue to have, on my life. The fact that my imagination can be so damn unruly is precisely the reason that it's completely mystifying that there are no provisions made for the reality faced by people like myself.

But I suppose that's because it's a lot more convenient when people like myself end up living under bridges, turning cheap tricks, stealing everything in sight from people who would happily have given it to you anyway, becoming more and more unstable until they can no longer even carry on a conversation, or remember their own life story.

Because I'm pretty sure, now that I think about it, that people like me aren't supposed to come out from under the bridge, to tell the truth about our life stories.

Or anybody else's, for that matter.

But, considering that my truth has taken everything from me; that I have no home and no prospects and no plan- considering that the truth is that I gave everything in the belief that I could help everyone else-

Because I believe adamantly that everyone deserves to be helped-

What else now have I left to do but tell the truth, especially when there is no help for me?

And more importantly, no help for Jessica- a woman no longer able to match shoes, let alone speak a truth she doesn't even understand.

[leelee10898]

Necessary Roughness

Pairing: Maxwell & Stephanie

Rating: Erotica.

We asked, you voted. The prompt: "You're going to regret that, sweetheart. The pairing I got was our favorite Beaumont's Stef and Max. A little naughty advice from fifty shades of Leo, we find these two love birds in some dominant territory.

This is from the CGW(CORDONIANS gone wild AU) a collaborative effort by @ao719 @speedyoperarascalparty @cocomaxley @riseandshinelittleblossom and myself.

Stephanie and Maxwell walked through the palace halls heading towards Alicia and Leo's quarters. Alicia was craving Lasagna,  with Pam, Genevieve, Liam and Anitah gone for a mental health conference. They invited Drake over, but he declined saying he wanted to go to the lake for a dew days and get some fishing in while Pam was away. Rashad was in the States for a few business meetings, and Stef and max gladly accepted.

“Are you going to completely ignore the conversation we had in the car Stef?”

“That was the plan, Max. When somebody is tired of talking about something, the tend to ignore it.” She rolled her eyes.

“But don't you think-” he was cut off by Stephanie knocking and Leo promptly opening the door.

“Hey guys, come in. Alicia has made entirely to much food, so I hope you're hungry.” He grinned as he moved aside, letting them in.

They sat down at the table, Alicia giving them salad to start followed by the Lasagna.  

“Man Tiger Lily, this is really good. Can I have some more?” Max danced in his seat. "You always want more." Stephanie mumbled to herself. Leo arched his brow at the two but kept quiet.

After a few jabs at each other finally Alicia spoke up. “Ok you two, you've been going at each other all night, what gives?”

“Its nothing.” Maxwell said quickly.

“Nothing? You seriously gonna say it's nothing?” Stephanie seethed. “Well, Maxwell is insisting-”

“Sex! It's about sex.” Maxwell hollered out causing Leo to choke on his drink. He took a minute to compose himself “If its a sex problem, maybe we can help.” Leo smirked resting his hand on Alicia's thigh. “yeah, you know one of us is pretty much a sex addict.” She giggled.

“One of you?” Stephanie snorted. “Bless your heart. I would definitely say Leo met his match with the sex drive.”

“its true, she's always ready. And we can't get enough of each other.” Leo smirked as he pulled Alicia in for a kiss.

“So what seems the be the issue?” Alicia Rolled her eyes at her husband.  

“Oh no real issue.” Stef pushed a piece of food across her plate. Alicia noticing Stephanie's hesitation to speak about what was bothering her.

“Stef, help me clear the table?”

Stephanie stood up and the two took the dishes to the sink.

“Ok, what gives?”

Stef let out a long sigh. “ I want him to change it up in the bedroom.”

“meaning?”

“Meaning I want him to be a little more dominant. Don't get me wrong, our sex life is amazing and all.” she chewed the inside of her mouth trying to find the right words.

“You want him to be a little more rough and controlling?” stephanie nodded.

Leo and Maxwell sat at the table, Maxwell mindlessly drumming his fingers.  “Ok man, spill. Whats going on?” Leo said pulling him from his thoughts. Max sat up in his seat. “You know you might just be the person to help me with this. You see, Stephanie asked me to choke her last night while we were in the middle of..” He trailed off.

“And you didn't?”

Max shook his head no. “I couldn't. She wants me to be a little more Dominant.”

“Ok breath play isn't a big deal Max. Just not to tight, and not to long. Wait a little before she climaxes to do it. Obviously if she's turning blue you're grip is to tight.” He chuckled.

“Also, put some authority in your voice when you're commanding her. Do not let her take any of the control unless you are telling her to, not asking. That's part of being dominant. And don't do it all the time. She is your wife and you will know when to play the card.” Maxwell sat there absorbing all of the information Leo continued to rattle off to him, nodding his head.

He was a little dominate in the bedroom already, but this was just the push he needed to rock his little rose buds world.

“Thanks Leo. I think I know just what I need to do.” Max stood abruptly “Stephanie, were going.” Stephanie glared at him “Maxwell, i was talking to-” “I said Now.” He barked. Stephanie stood in silence, stunned by her husbands sudden change. She grabbed her purse and said goodbye as Alicia and leo shared a knowing look.

They walked down the hall when Stephanie stopped abruptly “Maxwell,  that was rude. I was talking to Alicia and.” She was cut off by his lips meeting hers in a firey kiss. She placed her hands on his chest pushing him back. “Maxwell,  what the hell has gotten into you?”

He cocked his head to the side, his eyes dark with desire.  he licked his lips with anticipation as he grabbed her hand pulling her into a vacant room. “Clothes off, Now.” He demanded as he unfastened the buttons of his shirt, his eyes never leaving hers. She stood there stunned, she could feel the heat pooling in her wanting center. She didn't expect this from her normally carefree, go with the flow husband. “Don't make me rip them off red, clothes off, now.” He barked. She mindlessly pulled her shirt over her head and stepped out of her skirt, standing in only her bra and thong.

in a second maxwell was on her. His lips crashing against hers, their tongues tangling together like their lives depended on it. His fingers diligently worked to un fasten her bra, his lips leaving a fiery trail down her jaw to her neck, as they brushed across her now bare shoulder. He pushed her back against the wall, his lips making their way lower. “Max.” She breathed out as he left open mouthed kisses on both of her thighs. “Quiet. I didn't say you could speak.” He barked sending a jolt through her core, she whimpered out at the sensation he was goving her, and he hadn't touched her yet.

He lifted her leg, draping it over his shoulder. His fingers slipping between her wet folds. “mmmm that's so sexy. You like it when I touch you there. Hmm Rose bud.” He rasped out, a sudden flood of heat flooding to her core as he slipped two digits inside her wet center, his plush lips gently nipping and sucking her sensitive bundle. “Mmmmm fuck Max. Im gonna. Ooh fuuuuck.” She screamed as his long fingers pumped that perfect spot, a gush of her sweet nectar rushed out, he lapped up everything she gave him “Mmmm so delicious. You taste so sweet my Red. Wouldn't you agree?” he moaned as he lowered her leg and  slipped his fingers into her mouth. His eyes locked on hers as she sucked his fingers, releasing with a pop. A shiver rippled through him, his length desperate to escape its confines.

Something in her flipped she was craving him. She dropped to her knees, undoing his pants,letting them drop to the floor. She grasped the waistband of his boxers and yanked them down.  Her hand gripped his hard cock as she slowly pumped him a few times, her tongue swirling the tip teasing it a few times before parting her lips taking him in. He threw his head back, a deep guttural growl escaped his lips as his hands tangled in her strawberry locks. She bobbed her head, fast as she flicked her tongue against his length. “Fuck. Fuck rosebud. That feels. So. Ah. Fucking. God.” he moaned out as he watched himself disappear inside her mouth.

He wait a few minutes basking in the pure pleasure he was feeling “stef, stop baby. I'm not gonna last much longer,  I need to feel you.” he helped her up, his lips capturing hers as he lifted her up, carrying her to the bed and putting her down. His body hovering over hers he gripped his hard cock,  teasing her with his swollen tip. Stephanie bucked her hips into him, needing to feel the friction. “eh eh, red. Good things come to those who wait.”

“But. But Maxieeee.” she pouted he lifted a finger to silence her “Shhh. I didn't say you could talk did I?” he smirked as he pressed his hard length against her throbbing core, teasing her. “You're gonna regret that sweetheart.”

He gripped her hips slamming into her, Stephanie yelped at the sudden intrusion. “Do fucking tight, my rose bud. Always. So. Tight.” he bucked into her with force. He lifted her legs, letting them drape his shoulders. He gyrated his hips, Stephanie could feel her coil tightening as she gripped the sheets. “Fuck, Maxwell. Oh baby. Yes. Don't stop.” she moaned biting her lip.

“I won't stop until you're screaming my name. Come for me Red. Let me hear what I'm doing to you.” he picked up the pace, he pumped into her with fast, hard thrust. “Max, right there. God Yes. Oh fuck Maxwell.” she moaned as he slammed into her, his finger slipping between her legs, rubbing tight, fast circles against her clit, his free hand loosely around her throat. That was all it took.  “Yes, Yes. Max, fuck Yes maxwell. Oooooooooh Fuck!” She screamed as her coil snapped, she was seeing stars as she came completely undone, her juices fully coating his length. “Fffff fuck, stef.” His eyes rolled back in his head as he spilled himself inside her with a loud groan and a jerk, collapsing on the side of her.

They laid there catching their breath, both covered in a sheen of sweat. “Max, that was. I don't know what that was but it was-.”

“Hot?” He finished for her.

She nodded her head as nuzzled against him. “Ok, you win.” she sighed. He lifted his head arching his brow. “I win? You don't mean?”

“Yes Maxwell,  you can get the Emu. But it stays in Valtroia deal?”

��Deal.” Maxwell grinned as he leaned down kissing his wife.  “We should ah. Probably get going, i'm not really sure who's room this is and we kind of made a mess.”

The two dressed and quickly slipped out of the room and down the hall. They heard the clicking of a pair of heels stop and the sound of a door opening behind them. “What the hell? Who did this?” they heard the shriek of a woman come from behind them. “Uh oh.” Maxwell said as they rounded the corner. “What is it max?”

“I ah. Know whose room it was.” He let out a sheepish chuckle. Stephanie looked at him intrigued.  

“It was Madeleines.”

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[lifeontheborderlineblog-blog]

Jesus take the wheel

I don’t know about you (other Borderline’s) but I find that mental health takes a huge toll on my faith. I have been a Christian since I was a foetus, I had a terrible childhood but I got through it all! I wasn't afraid because I had Jesus. 

But suddenly over the last few years I find myself withdrawing from my saviour and feeling empty, feeling like I am alone and the idea of God and Jesus was a fantasy I made up in my head. I dissociate everyday, I spend more time in a different reality, time zone, existence, planet than I do in the present (real world), I don’t even believe I exist so I think it’s understandable that I question God’s. 

If I am not fighting with dicosation I am fighting with psychotic episodes where I will believe I can see demons, this then brings me to believe all my doubts are from the Devil who really plays a big role in my life. If you make an entrance for the devil (alcohol, wild parties, sex outside of marriage) he will take that opportunity right? To be honest I wouldn’t be surprised if all my issues is because I have some psychotic demon inside of me. Which feels very real when I can hear and see them in my head. I’m not crazy I’m just very fucked up possible (laughs out loud) These are very real to people with psychotic episodes so it isn't  something to joke around, you would not know how terrifying it is until you are in that world where your nightmares are starting you dead in the face.

Where does God come from? 

I can not answer that and only one person can answer that and he hasn't spoken to people since Jesus walked the Earth. I know he sends me signs and this reassures me for about a minute, then i’m back to feeling like an alien... a ghost... a figment of someone’s imagination. 

Does anyone else find mental health creates a brick wall for them? 

Do you have any advice?

I think my faith took a dip once I started using alcohol and sex to make me forget how miserable I was. I sometimes think I stopped following God out of fear because he could and still can see everything awfully embarrassing I do. You have no idea how much I pray for my faith to come back because I will God, I miss the security I miss how happy he made me just by being in my life; I was never afraid because I knew I had God by my side. Now I fear we will never get our relationship back and I’ll die and it will be too late. I’ll go to hell and I won’t be with my mum or family. I don’t want to go to hell over my mental health making me doubt anything good in my life really exists. I want to be with God and my family when the end comes for me. 

This scares me a lot, perhaps it does you? I’m terrified to die with my broken faith unresolved, I go to church in hopes that God will just come to me, because I will never give up trying to find him no matter how much the Devil wills it. Perhaps this is a test of patience I have no idea but God I’ve had enough. Have mercy. 

I find myself wondering if I should just end it, if I’m going to hell I might as well get it over and done with, because I feel like I’m in hell anyway. I don’t believe I will ever marry or have a family of my own I just know that was written for me as much as I pray for a happy ever after. So what am I living for?

So anyone that has done DBT will know about wise mine, reasonable mind and emotional mind. My wise mind is telling me not to stress about this, my faith will come back when the time is right. My reasonable mind is telling me that God can see I am trying and that is enough, that is enough for anyone suffering with faith like me. The more you force yourself or push, the more you’ll withdraw, take your time and allow yourself to heal first. God knows you are sorry for your errors after all it is written that he gave his only son so that we can be forgiven. 

Tia

xo

[chqnified]

Idk what this blog is becoming.

A daily life update place i guess.

Tw/

I have 2 hours until my next 'lesson', we were forced to all book extracurricular activities, 2 classes a term i believe. I booked mine on the same day so that i wouldn't have to be in college more than once. I chose mortgages and origami.... Riveting i know.

I didn't sleep last night. I started thinking of ways i could just end it all, until i heard a voice. It was Isla. You know what, I don't think I've ever cried that much in my entire life. She doesn't deserve us? She deserves to go live her life, one separate from us and our problems. She shouldn't have to listen to what any of us go through, or experience how fucked up the world is. What's worse is she understands everything. She understands the implications of everything. Yet, as i was sat there, she was the one who talked me down. She didn't make it about her, she should've, she should've told me what a selfish bitch i am, why should she too have to die with me or why she had to put up with cutting. She listed reasons why I should live, things i had to stay alive to experience. That we would try together to live until November, then until December, until next year because we have always wanted to go do xyz. It was like she knew she was the only one who could stop me? She didn't want me to die. And something in that makes me want to cry every time i think about it. I'm not happy, I'm not proud, achievements people say i should be proud about don't feel deserved.

This morning was a struggle, i felt extremely anxious. Thoughts of what could happen just keep going through my mind. What if he was here today? Luckily so far, he isn't. I'm hoping we threatened him enough. But i was so stressed, i forgot to take our crutch and painkillers. So I'm in a lot of pain. I was also 10 minutes late. I knew i was going to be late, it felt like i was blowing everything out of proportion, everyone was going to hate me because i was late, that everyone was going to stare me down, i was going to be shown as an example at the front of the class. It didn't happen, i knocked on the door, was let in, was given paper and pens and put my name on the register. The teacher asked my name, it was the first time i introduced myself as Charlie, our chosen outer name. We were told to introduce ourselves to the person next to us. The guy i was sat next to was lovely, first year student, he too felt anxious, but about the year ahead. He too, was trans, which i felt like consoled me. Trust me to go at random and sit next to a queer. It's a talent. We got on well and it felt like i was able to relax for a bit. I also felt like it was my duty to make sure he wasn't anxious about college.

I might go to Argos to go pick up the silver polish needed for work. But at the same time i feel too anxious to go there myself. So i might just stay in the quietest corner of the college. I do need to go buy earphones, i hope Argos still does the in shop order. Didn't fancy getting my mum to order them, she would question why i wanted to spend £100 on earphones. Very valid worry on my mum's part, but they are generally expensive and i need them for good mental health in class and at work you know?