#god i talked so much. i'm about to diagnose myself too. it would explain why i'm so outgoing lately GHJGHEkjahjgjf

[ruyalarincadisi]

*strolls up several days late to your post about time passing in Milgram* okay, so I believe the birthdays are just a fun-for-fans sort of thing, and that events are happening fairly quickly compared to real time! No one is aging, because if they did it's disrupt a lot of the character Vibes they're going for (aka Amane would be like 18 and Haruka would be 23 and no longer fit the 'innocent child' thing, Mahiru would be 30 and no longer fit the 'young love' trope, even Es would be around 20). Also, some of the injuries the prisoners got during the trial hiatus would have definitely healed already -- Mahiru's arm (broken sometime before last August) should have been healed by November, and there's no way she'd sound that weak for her interrogation end of this May.

Sorry if that disrupts your Haruka theory, though ;--; it sounds really interesting and I'd love to hear more about it!!

hiii beans, thank you for answering it!!! has it been that long?? i thought only 2 years have passed :o but even if that was so, the injuries would heal in 2 years so you must be right either way! it makes more sense! it'll be long so i'll just put this here

regarding the time passing, we were trying to notice differences in character art to see if their hair grew longer with my friend and iirc it was only mahiru's and amane's (?) hair that looked different or longer in some way, excluding the style differences. amane's bangs and mahiru's hair completely! (bonus: the ahoge like thing haruka has ahaha) although it's a little funny to imagine all of them except mappi and amane getting haircuts regularly (from jackalope?!), it seems unlikely so it was probably a drawing mistake in mappi's and it looks that way for amane because her hair is messy...? hypomania can last just several days, google is saying 4 days is the criteria, it can still be true as long as haruka's changes didn't all happen in one day, i guess! we at least know it's not 1 day, right? lol i think they were saying mikoto is being weird at "nights", they must have spent some time there, correct me if i'm wrong!

though some stuff i said in that post could be explained with how comfortable he got there because he was accepted by es and mu, so this is mostly me giving my mental illness to my favorite character (i can't even call it a theory just a hc!!) but but!! especially when es asks if he's a different person because that's how it feels for other people when people around them experience mania or hypomania and it usually doesn't suddenly feel like someone changed their whole personality when they get more comfortable with you, you know? he clearly shows depressive symptoms too but i guess no one is doubting that one :') also the impulsiveness! he says he doesn't want to die both in his song and those questions in twitter, then he says he'll kill himself because he doesn't really think about what he's saying. i actually planned to shut up about this until i saw everything about him. i hate being wrong /lh but i couldn't because twitter is dead to me and my friends are usually busy and i get bored if i don't talk about my hyperfixations enough. and i'm getting so comfortable here lately... ANYWAY until we get new info contradicting this i'll be saying haruka is bipolar but again, i'm not assuming the writer did it intentionally so it's more of a self indulgent hc than a theory :33 EDIT: WAIT I JUST LOOKED AT AMANE'S DOOR PIC AGAIN? HER BANGS ACTUALLY GOT LONGER??? DID JACKALOPE REALLY CUT THEIR HAIR, HELP??

#gem talks #thanks for the ask! #god i talked so much. i'm about to diagnose myself too. it would explain why i'm so outgoing lately GHJGHEkjahjgjf

[alexdelray1]

Hobie Brown x F Reader

I invite you to read.

Oh God that hurts. And maybe fucking good. I got hit because I wasn't paying attention, but it fucking hurts so much. After all, I'm Spider-Woman. I should be used to these situations, but moving the tibia along with the fracture is painful. And I forgot to represent the situations for my voices in my head. A moment ago I was together with Miguel and Hobie on a mission and to be honest, I lost consciousness for a moment because of one blow from the anomaly and this anomaly took advantage of it. It wasn't the nicest. I fell to the ground and sat there unable to even move. Hobie wanted to help me and get me to HQ quickly, but I told him to finish off the anomalies with Miguel first. After a few seconds, he agreed.

When they were finishing off the anomaly, I called for backup. Jess took me to Spiderverse and now I'm sitting in Miguel's office.

-How's my leg Lyla?- I asked the AI ​​robot.

-After Peter from earth 1510 bandaged it and fixed it, it's much better, but you need to take a week off.- Lyla replied, looking at the doctor's fracture pages.

-What? I'd rather cut my leg off and give it a prosthesis.- I whined. My leg was uncovered and the rest of my body except for my face was covered by a Spider-Woman costume.

-You would not only have to rest longer, but also get used to it. - Lyla said and I sighed.

-I have the genes that give me powers. It should be faster.- I argued.

-Although your genes are covered with super powers, the anomaly you were fighting also had super powers. So the fracture is much worse than it should be for a normal fracture, but you have your genes so the fracture will be gone in a week.- Lyla explained.

-Thanks. Should I be on my earth this week or... - I didn't finish as Miguel stormed into the room with Hobie.

-NO. Do not even think about it. Your broken leg may prevent some canon event. You're staying here this week, no discussion. Tell your family you're away on business.- Miguel said as he approached his desk. And I was sitting on the wall.

-Yeah a 17 year old in a technical school on a business leave. It's a good thing that holidays are now on my earth.- I snorted and texted Aunt Alexandra that I would be away for a week.

-Hey, it won't be that bad. You will spend more time with others and with me. - Hobie comforted me as he walked on the same wall as me and I smiled at him.

-Thanks for the words of encouragement.- I thanked and looked at Miguel. He is busy looking at monitors.

-How about we go to the main hall?- Hobie asked.

-Okay. Lyla, is the prosthetic leg ready?- I asked and the 3D printer slid out the prosthetic. I grabbed it with my net and brought her closer to me. I put on my prosthesis and Hobie offered me his hand to stand up.

-Are we just going to walk? This must be hard.- Hobie asked and I took his hand standing up. We started to approach the exit from Miguel's office.

-Reader. Just remember, you are not allowed to return to your earth for a week. Gwen will replace you.- Miguel warned me.

"Okay, Dad," I said casually. Miguel looked at me in shock. I looked at him in confusion and shock.

-It's... umm. Yeah. Goodbye.- I quickly took Hobie's hand and ran with him out of Miguel's office.

-What an action.- Hobie said and I adjusted my prosthesis.

-Yeah.- I agreed not wanting to talk about it.

-Miguel is your father on another earth?- Hobie asked and started walking with me beside him.

-No. I've never even seen my father.- I replied looking around.

-Well, so are most of us.- Hobie said and laughed.

-True.- I laughed too.

-Then why did you called him that?- Hobie asked.

-I don't know! Normally it just slipped my mind. - I defended myself.

-Wait, I already know. Daddy issues.- Hobie diagnosed me and I sighed.

-Thanks for the diagnosis, doctor. Shit!- I shouted. My leg hurt more.

-Everything okay?- Hobie elaborates.

-Yeah. Damn shin.- I touched my leg.

-Would you like some medicine?- he asked.

-There's no need to. Let's just sit down somewhere.- I replied.

-Okay. Just hold on tight.- He said and pulled me closer.

-Wait. But do you know that I can put out my web myself?- I asked him looking at him like on a moron. He shot his web and carried us quickly to the highest point of this building.

- Yes, but you have to help the disabled people. - Hobie joked and sat on the pillar and I did the same. The view was beautiful. There was a large window in front of us. The year 2099 is even cool. It's obvious they care about the planet.

-Very funny. When did you discover this place?- I asked him, changing the subject.

-When I started working here. Sometimes it gets boring here so I visit this place. - He replied and I smiled. I put my head on his shoulder.

-Thanks for showing me this.- I said and he put his hand on my waist pulling me closer to him.

-You're welcome. Although now we can be alone. - he replied.

-You know. In many universes, Spider-Man falls in love with Reader and that doesn't always end well.- I said and was about to pull away.

-There always has to be a first time.- He said and pulled me slightly closer to him not letting me go. Okay that turns me on.

#spiderpunk x reader #hobie x reader #x reader #spider verse

[wanderedaway]

After the last few days, I can't help but wonder if maybe there is a god out there answering prayers.

Don't read if alcoholism effects you one way or another. I don't talk in great detail, but it's mentioned. Read or don't read. Totally up to you. I just wanted to explain why I haven't been around much.

I've been hoping that my dad would quit drinking one day because he was quite literally drinking himself to death. He halfway admitted that it so he could have control over how he died. He pretty much said he drank the way he did because he didn't want something else to get him down the line. I've never seen him cry so much.

As of now, dad hasn't had a drop of alcohol in five days. I really just want to throw all of it out, but I want to hear it from him first. None of this will work if he doesn't really want to make improvements in his life. I even gave away my two bottles of wine because I just have no desire to drink them and I haven't drank any in months.

Of course, after admitting dad into the hospital, there must be family drama. I will try not to let it bother me, but so far, not really succeeding in that. And then there's the bills. No idea how we're going to do it, I just don't want dad worrying about it either. I think that was one of the reasons why he drank so much to begin with.

I hope, in dad's eyes, he won't mind me not coming to see him today. I need a day to try to rest from this, but there's so much to do get done and cleaned up before we can take dad home. Certainly he would understand? And I can't leave mom alone, too. My dad's side of the family just doesn't understand.

As of now, they confirmed dad had a stroke, thank goodness they listened to me when I described in detail why I thought this was the case. Dad didn't tell us his own suspicions until the day after he fell. He didn't even tell us he had covid until after mom and I caught it last year. I'm kicking myself, though, because we really should have called an ambulance that night he fell and we couldn't get him off the floor. And he has been diagnosed with diabetes as well. There will be so many changes when he can come home.

I've been wanting dad to quit drinking for the longest time, but I never knew that this would be how it happens (of course, if we can keep him off of it). Maybe my prayer has been answered. I'm not a religious person, but with everything that's been going on, I'm definitely wondering if there's a higher power out there looking out for us.

I believe that everyone has choice in how there life is run, but I wonder if perhaps that's not the case. Which is another scary thing altogether for me to think about.

Anyhoo, I just want him to get better. I want dad to turn his life around and not feel so miserable anymore.

#an update no one asked for #it's been a lot these last few days #to say the least #i've never been so scared of the future before #not like this #tw: drinking #tw: alcholism

[ace-ace-in-yo-face]

Can we stop considering all teens who say they're depressed an "attention seeking edgy 12 year olds" cuz for the love of God - my depression actually started around the time I was 13-14 yo, and I got no treatment at all because as my mom (and other people) said "it's just a phase" "u just want attention".

Yes I was awkward about asking for help, in my case it was through jokes about suicide and being all "ugh life sucks I wanna die" etc. Because I was a fucking child who didn't know how to deal with such emotions and struggles cuz nor in school nor at home no one has ever explained to me what depression really was and how to get help and how to deal with such emotions. I got help after 5 years of telling my mother to get me on therapy and guess what? I was diagnosed with severe depression and social anxiety disorder and "in need of long therapy", who would have guessed. I had to be treated in a psychiatric hospital and had multiple suicide attempts but I guess I was just being edgy right?

Yes there are teens who are treating it as something cool, who are seeking attention, who are just trying to be edgy. But for those kids it should be explained what depression really is without putting them down cuz for fucks sake u don't have the right to say who is depressed or not, leave it to professionals.

I was just watching a video and in the comments people where bashing those kids and saying things like "they don't have any reason to be depressed" like for God's sake shut up - it pisses me off cuz when u're a kid u sometimes can't tell why u're feeling like this i don't know why I'm feeling like this most of the time now so what am I not depressed? Has my psychiatrist made up my diagnosis? And u know what, when I was a kid and started to consider having depression I'd always put myself down because of people around me saying things like this, people treating me like an attention seeking edgy kid and for some time I thought that was true, that I just convinced myself I was depressed. How horrible is that?

So maybe let's give these kids help they need, let's explain to them what depression is and what to do when they get suicidal thoughts and let's explain to them how treating depression as something cool and romantic or whatever is disrespectful to people who suffer (who these kids might be as well, people deal differently with struggles) instead of putting everything they say in a "edgy teenager" box?

It makes me so mad when people laugh at kids who vent online too, I vent online sometimes and u know why I do that? Because irl I have no people to talk to, no people that care so I seek up any sort of help from strangers - it's sad when u think about it, and maybe these kids that seek attention, seek it for a reason. Sometimes reaching out to these people and having a chat, reassuring them etc. can be incredibly helpful, u don't even know how many times I have cried cuz a stranger on the internet said they cared about me and I cried because the thought that someone spent time to write this to me was more than enough to keep me going.

It's a serious topic and it should be handled with care.

In my country a consultation with a psychologist is free - with that in mind will it hurt so much to just take Ur kid who is certain they're depressed to such professional to discuss it with them? Even if they'll just explain to them that they don't have depression because who knows - it's certainly better for a professional to do so. And the sooner u know the better.

My first visit was because my mother was certain I was making shit up and wanted to prove to me she was right.

Guess what happened.

(and if any of u need support or some nice words or reassurence, please don't hesitate to reach out, my messages are always open :))

#Tw suicide mention #tw depression #Depression #Important #mental heath awareness #mental health #Support kids for fucks sake

[bitter-sweet-coffee]

while i'm in a typing mood (but not typey enough to answer some analysis asks or write my promised fic chapters OR ANY OF MY WORK THAT WAS DUE THIS WEEK OH GOD) i just wanna say:

thank u! thank you lovely followers and mutuals and friends and bastards (you know who you are) you're all besties and my pms are always open (asks too! and anon is fixed if you wanna talk to me that way bc i sometimes seem scary, idk it happene)

you're all very lovely and sometimes i feel like i take the sonic fandom for granted sometimes or brush it off because it's a small circle on here for a pretty dead fandom, and infinite/espio/wave lovers are hard to come by (can't say the same for shadow but him interacting with these characters is quite uncommon).

sometimes i underestimate how much people care about all my random blabbery posts because there are only like 4 infinite blogs, maybe 2 infinadow/shadfinite shippers that were not poisoned or convinced by me, and like. a HANDFUL of insane espio enthusiasts who i love dearly

idk. i remember an ancient tumblr post about followers and it's like "oh, 100 followers online seems small but imagine 100 people in your house" and that's how i see this! i don't care about follower numbers because i honestly post and create content for myself and share it in case anyone else happens to give a crap, but the fact that there are over 100 people who actually want to see what i post and enjoy what i make is like, still mind blowing to me!!!

you all chose to be here (except @bluemarine but that's your fault for getting me back on this hellsite) and idk it means a lot?

and i feel like i don't acknowledge how much i appreciate everyone, so even if i don't follow back or interact directly or message you (i feel weird messaging y'all idk it feels unwarranted) i still appreciate every single one of you. i do!!!

obligatory sad paragraph that you can skip:

i spent most of my life thus far in isolation. i essentially didn't have friends until i started university, people at school did not want to talk to me growing up and i got bullied for it, my parents were never around, and i don't have siblings. my soul-partner is my lovely dog, who honestly saved my life because i could be home for hours or days without talking or seeing anyone and i'd at least have him, but it got lonely! and it made me feel a little unwanted, which i'm working on not feeling. i did some bad stuff for myself, and then i had to fix myself too because no one else was around or cared or even noticed. didn't help that i only recently got diagnosed with adhd and autism too (which has eased a LOT of guilt about being so bad at making friends and being wanted around) but i had to do that for myself because: no one else noticed or cared! i was being told to shut up, got talked and walked over, and then refused to open up in fear of making people hate me. some people broke that barrier down, i trusted them with this, and then when this meant i wasn't stroking their egos for once i got called selfish and was dropped! this has happened at least 12 times and it makes it REALLY hard to tell if i'm not giving enough, or giving too much at first so when i burn out, they drift since i set their expectations too high. so... i would spend my time just talk to myself or my dog because it's all i had.

(sad paragraph is over!)

idk i don't want pity for this, i just want to explain WHY i care so much about people liking my headcanons and analysis and rants and doodles, because i still think i'm annoying or talking about stuff no one likes. BUT CLEARLY SOME PEOPLE ENOY IT, AND THAT'S WHAT MATTERS! so i love u all ty for being here with me :") 💕

#misc #bsc moment

[growingupautie]

StoryTime: The White Card Incident

(2,770 words but worth the read.)

In January of 2013, I was promoted from a part-time weekend job as a technology sales representative for Lenovo to the Marketing Development Manager for Lenovo in charge of half of my entire city of Houston. For a while, I felt like I was on top of the world. I loved my job and traveling through my city. I loved meeting all the people in the 50 plus stores I had to visit and started to memorize a lot of them and what we talked about.

I even made my route have me end up near Chinatown on some days so I could stop by and eat lunch there (and get some things from my favorite bakery.) But just as Kandace and I were planning on using this newfound position to get an apartment together, something terrible happened. In October of that year, we got on our weekly conference call as we always did, but the mood seemed somber and no one was talking or laughing like they used to.

When our boss came on, she also seemed upset and had trouble getting her words out. I could tell that everyone on the call, all 20 plus of us from across the United States just wanted her to say what was happening so we could rip the bandaid off. After a minute of praise that felt hollow given the tone of the call, someone finally asked if she could get to the news we were told to expect.

She said "sorry" and continued to tell us that the parent company we work for had lost the contract with Lenovo after failed negotiations and our positions were being terminated immediately. The call somehow fell more silent. Everyone had questions. Myself included. But in the end, we found out most of what we wanted to know. The Lenovo branded cars we drove were to be returned, (I had let my vehicle stay broken down as I didn't need it and it would be expensive to fix.)

The laptop we were provided was to be returned as well along with the phone, and hotspot device. But the most important bit of info came when someone asked if we would be allowed to apply for unemployment. "Of course we would be able to. We paid into it, we worked, we should be able to get that back." but to our surprise, the boss said something along the lines of "no don't do that! We could get in trouble! We haven't paid into that!" All of us were stunned. Someone asked how that was even possible.

It turns out the loophole in the law they had found was that because the company was in Akron Ohio, and we all worked and paid taxes in our various other cities somehow they managed to not pay into it. We didn't get bogged down into the why or how, but all that meant to us was suddenly we were without cars and a paycheck and would be denied unemployment. I was devastated. I really thought I had found a place to grow and could see myself making a career out of it.

We were about to sign papers on an apartment and suddenly I'm without a job, without a working car, and without any kind of financial assistance. Some issues happened around my family and after a short time, I got my car somewhat fixed and I moved out of the house into Dadaw's (grandmother's) house. I tried frantically to get another job. After all, I had just been in charge if half of Houston for a big company. Surely I would be offered another position somewhere soon.

But as time went by, nobody had called. I had very little money left, and very little outside help if any. Hope was dwindling, relationships were strained. I had spoken to at least 20 job placement agencies. After my mom informed me that I had been diagnosed as Autistic as a child, I had reconnected with D.A.R.S. (Department of Rehabilitative Services) who help people with disabilities get help with work and other things.

But they refuse to help me based on my other medical issues because they closed my case before, and they refused to help me as an Autistic until I got rediagnosed. They paid for me to be rediagnosed, I did so with no sleep, having skipped dinner and breakfast, and with a ridiculous amount of stress on my shoulders.

I aced their IQ test minus the memory portion, and after a while of convincing the doctor I was Autistic through old stories and experiences and the fact that I had been diagnosed, he agreed. That day, I went home with my heart sunk in my chest. I felt like a failure for needing this kind of help. I felt like a broken or incomplete person because I couldn't do it on my own.

And after months of their "help," working with a bunch of disability-based job agencies, the "help" of 20 plus other job placement agencies I had saught out, and filling out applications online myself, no matter what I tried, I couldn't get a job anywhere. I couldn't afford to eat, and I didn't want Dadaw to pay for me as she often couldn't afford much. A few people in my life suggested I get food stamps. Several people in my life told me I should apply food stamps. But the idea of that in itself was terrifying.

But after a while, between eating very little, my friends taking me out from time to time, and constant pestering from my family I felt I was left with no choice. I went to the food stamp office with my head down, the people around me had the same downtrodden demeanor. When they called me back, I felt a rush of emotions. Guilt, remorse, sorrow, anger that it came to this.

But most of all, I felt embarrassed. Growing up, food stamps had been used as an insult toward the people around me, I knew at one point my family had needed them and used them and I felt like as someone who had been constantly bullied growing up, I was opening myself up for more. I played through a million scenarios in my head as I walked back. Someone I know seeing me at the checkout counter, the cashier silently judging me, the people around me, me dropping the white card with the unmistakable logo in front of someone.

I snapped out of it and sat down in the interview room to answer questions to determine my eligibility. But it felt like a police interrogation to me. I felt like I was cheating the system. Like it wasn't for me, but someone else who deserved it. Someone else who needed it. I felt the eyes of the interviewer boring into me as if to say "why are you even here?" I spoke up about to break. "I...I don't even want to do this." Her face changed from accusatory and annoyed, to shock.

I let her know that I felt like I had no other choice, that I felt embarrassed. I explained my situation, and she looked at me almost begrudgingly endearing. "Son, if you need help, you need help." she said. "That's what it's here for." I felt somewhat relieved or at least a little better about not actually cheating the system. They accepted my application, and I was approved.

When I got the card, I was once again filled with dread. Replaying the simulations over and over in my head a million times. Finding a way to cheat the system in a way to avoid being bullied, I realized I could use the self-check-out. Then quickly realized if I get one of those "please remove items from cart" messages or something else regarding my card, someone would have to come up and help me anyway.

Still, I figured it was my best hope for avoiding confrontations, and I parked outside the grocery store. I checked my balance on the card and made sure everything was working, went in and got a basket, and started shopping while feeling like a spy. Like somehow I would get caught and it would be the end of the road for me. I'm honestly surprised nobody thought I was shoplifting as nervous as I was.

When I was done, I walked over to the self-check-out area doubling down on my earlier decision when a woman stopped me and said they were all closed for repairs. Panic set in. I didn't say anything. I just sort of smiled and walked away with my basket.

The 15 items or less line was almost empty but I had too many items. The next line had too many people. The next few lines had the same amount of people and items, and I started doing the math on which cashier was scanning and bagging faster vs how judgmental they look trying to get myself into the best possible situation.

Eventually, I found a line sandwiched between two closed lines with only one woman and her 2 kids in the basket with a few items. The cashier didn't seem to care much about anything and didn't seem like a gatekeeper or any other kind of threat. And the woman in front of me seemed sad and aloof as well so I felt like things were going to be ok. The woman smiled at me and apologized for having so many items. "It's not that much. It's fine." I responded with a smile.

But suddenly from behind me, I felt a high strung angry presence. Like a monster who's in a hurry and I'm in his path. As each item was scanned, he started saying "Oh God...." "Of course..." and "Just great..." in a demeaning and monstrous tone. The woman continued to hide her face with her back to him and sulked further into herself as he continued. "Cash or credit?" The cashier asked in a monotone voice. "I...uh...Here..." The woman said quietly and she tried to hand her..."A food stamp card..." I thought to myself.

I realized that I and the woman felt the same at that moment. In need of help, but afraid to seek it out, and even afraid to use it once that help had been provided. I started to piece the scene together realizing the kids had beat up shoes and clothes, and the woman did as well. They were clearly hungry and frightened by this angry rhino of a person and just wanted to get some food. I started to think of all the scenarios that could have put them in that situation. But then I realized it didn't matter.

Only a moment had passed while I thought through all of these things, the children were terrified of this man already and then he saw it..."OH GREAT! MY TAX DOLLARS AT WORK!" he screamed scaring the kids even more. He began to verbally narrate what he thought her situation was. accusing her of getting "knocked up" to "leech off the system." He said people like them were a "drain on the economy" all while using language inappropriate to use around her children.

At that moment after the initial shock wore off, I grasped my card in my pocket as anger built up inside of me. I knew what I was afraid of, I had built it up in my head, and this ignorant jerk was making it a reality for a down on their luck mom and her two scared children. I immediately pivoted. "What did you just say?" I told him with a face that said: "I dare you to repeat that." apparently too blustered to care, he said, "I SAID PEOPLE LIKE HER ARE A DRAIN ON THE ECONOMY!"

I whipped my card out and held it in-between two fingers right in his face. "And what about me?" I spoke out with an angry but in control tone. "I...Uh..." he said as it became clear to me, like most bullies, this one was only doing this because he thought his targets (this mom and her kids) would not be able to defend themselves. I yelled at him more, trying to control my voice so I didn't frighten the kids anymore "Well, you had all kinds of ignorant crap to say a minute ago!"

He snapped out of his shock bullies go into when someone stands up to them. "Wh...Why don't you mind your own business?! I WASN'T EVEN TALKING TO YOU! WHY DON'T YOU FIND ANOTHER LINE!" He started to build up steam again making the children huddle in the cart.

Having had enough of his nonsense I moved my card, leaned in with a scowl, got uncomfortably close to his face and angrily whispered: "Why don't YOU find another line before I find one for you..." a terrified look came across his face as he realized doubling down on his ignorance would not get the job done and after a pained audible gulp in the "big man's" throat he was frantically on his way spouting off "That's what I thought" and other face-saving phrases.

I timidly turned back to the family making sure I had dropped my "don't mess with me" persona (My Autistic folks know this one) so I didn't scare them. I asked them if they were ok. Her eyes were filled with tears, and so were the kids. She smiled at me and thanked me for stepping in. I told her kids that it was ok because he was gone now and offered to walk them to their car. She said she appreciated it but they would be fine.

The checkout woman handed her a receipt and obviously wanted to stay out of the situation. I saw the woman leave and she smiled at me on the way out. I had enough items that it took a good 5 minutes to check me out. I realized in that time I was no longer afraid of being seen with my card. Maybe it was the adrenaline of standing up to that bully, maybe it was outing myself to protect that family, after all, it would be silly to be afraid now that everyone had clearly seen it.

I paid, went outside, and on my windshield was a note on small lined paper that had been torn out of a planner of some sort that said: "You will be blessed all the days of your life." I don't know who left it, or if it was in response to what happened, or even how they found out which car was mine, but it was there.

The message here is two-fold. First, it is easy to get caught up in thinking you don't need help, or that even if you did it isn't for you. "It's for someone more deserving." sometimes it's just the fear of being bullied or ridiculed for accepting it. And because of this, a lot of people wait until they hit "the bottom" before they ever consider asking and even then they might not.

In a better world, we would destigmatize the need for help. Therapy, government assistance, shelters, these things are in place to help people, and if people need help, they should be able to get it without being berated to tears over it. The last thing someone who's questioning if they need help or not needs is some blowhard with their ignorant opinions of why they don't. Which brings me to the second message.

If you see something like this happening, and you have the power to step in whether you are personally affected or not, do it. This includes all forms of bullying. Bullies are cowards. They may double down, but once these types of people realize that we won't allow this anymore and there are actually people who will stand against them, they buckle under the pressure. If you see it, shut it down.

This has been another [Growing Up Aspie] Storytime. If you'd like to help me make more content more often, please consider supporting me at Paypal.me/growingupaspie or with a monthly pledge of $1 or more at patreon.com/irishwolfproductions. Thank you for your support.

-Nathan Alan McConnell

#autism #selfworth #story #growingupaspie #autistic #aspie #storytime #foodstamps #help #bully #bullies #gatekeeper

[a-woman-apart]

Watch "I'M BACK! WHY I LEFT YOUTUBE FOR TWO YEARS!" on YouTube

This scared me so badly, because this is EXACTLY what happened in my life, except it was all in The Reverse.

I graduated with an Associate Degree in Music Performance in 2018, but instead of running TOWARDS my dream/calling I ran hardcore AWAY from it. My pride in graduating only lasted a month before I declared myself Utterly Unmarketable and sought to go after a "real degree" and get a Big Girl career.

Between 2018 and 2020 I had major life changes.

My dad died of stomach cancer

I broke up with my neglectful boyfriend

I turned down a Full Ride to a major college

I hospitalized myself for Suicidal Ideation (Sept 2019)

I quit my job of 5 years

I started working for my best friend and became her Office Manager

I started dating the Love of my Life

I lost my friend group and peer support

I lost my mind and left college due to COVID-19 (but not before making one of my best decisions in taking a Screenwriting class because I WANTED not NEEDED it)

Started distancing myself from the toxic women in my life and definining Womanhood/Adulthood for myself

Visited my brother's grave after over a decade of waiting and got closure

Fully acknowledged my childhood trauma/abuse

Rediscovered my sexuality

Was disowned by who I erroneously thought was a close friend of 17 years over my political views

Joined and exited Unity2020

Turned in my car for repossession

Spent a week in the hospital after having a severe, paranoid psychotic break, but came out completely free of the vice of self-consciousness I was living under

You know what is nuts? I feel in many ways, I have completely reverted to who I was in the summer of 2011. I was off my meds, and it WAS mania, but personality-wise, the tempestuous, gum-chewing, cigarette-puffing, flirtatious, humorous, free-spirited ball of fire that drove all the way to Colorado on a whim wasn't rebellious, SHE WAS ME.

I just wasn't Me around the right people, and it wasn't the Right Time.

My inner Sagittarius moon would remain in a dormant state for almost a full decade. I would spend the next 9 years heavily sedated, sleepwalking through life, only alive at The Sound of Music.

It was Torture to feel so much but be afraid to express myself. I had to Hide while doing a major that demanded that I Command Attention. I am by nature "dramatic", "theatrical", "emotional", "expressive" but that part of me was so suppresed that I was frequently told I sang with excellence but without emotion.

Aside: During my 2011 manic episode, I spoke a lot about Doppelgangers. Without going into excessive detail, this is a German word that means "Double" and it is considered bad luck to encounter yours.

In the past 2 weeks, I have encountered people that look/sound like me (Josephine is Nigerian-Canadian and I am Nigerian-American and I kept thinking about her work even though I initially disagreed with her lot) and a woman with my name (different spelling) who was NOTHING like me and I also think might've had malice in mind for me.

I was DEFINITELY an agnostic atheist when I started this year, but as a result of undergoing so much weird shit I almost certainly believe in God, and yes, "God is a Woman." (More on that later)

Also, I realized that I really DID, as many teenage girls, "lose interest in math and science" but that was because of the terrible, unfactual way it was presented in my homeschool curriculum and by my mom, who was a Math major but whose disinterested detachment made every algebra lesson an excercise in torture.

I have always loved biolology and anatomy and I remember so much more chemistry than I thought. Geology class in community college was amazing and also helped me understand-- even more than the Theory of Evolution-- why young earth creationism was completely impossible.

As for math, I spent 15 years thinking it was my greatest weakness when I have had to use arithmetic in cashiering, my managerial work, and my monthly budget for the last 7 years. Also, as annoying as it was to hear constantly, my mom parroting "What you have to do to one side, you have to do to the other" (but in reverse) gave me the ability to do Algebra quickly and (mostly) effortlessly. I could never get A's, but I got a B in Quantitative Mathematics with no real help aside from occasional teacher input and the "Help me solve this" function of MyMathLab.

Here is where it Gets Weird. I am a Creative. I have been writing stories since I was 6 years old. I have loved Story all my life. My parents were in math and science fields and they completely lacked any creativity. COMPLETELY. It was part of why they were so religiously rigid, authoritarian, and draconian. There was no room for spontaneity or childish imaginativeness.

Looking back, I had major sensory and processing issues. I was likely speech delayed, I learned to read late, and I recently confirmed that when I am stressed my dyscalculia kicks in bad (it IS real). Numbers and symbols get really interchangeable (like an 8 and infinity symbol become kinda the same) which is why I had to recite phone numbers out loud to remember them or write them on colorful backgrounds so I can see them in my head as an image. Also explains my aversion to math but my ease with fractions (1/2 is half a sandwich, etc).

My spatial awareness is also shit when stressed. Before I turned in our car, I had earned the nickname "U-turn" from my boyfriend because on that Floating Death Machine left and right got completely crossed, frequently.

By the way, I struggled with right and left until I WAS EIGHT YEARS OLD. I literally didn't understand the concept of a mirror and 3D space, meaning that the basic understanding that my right is someone else's left didn't come into play until I had an argument with my [now-deceased] brother about it.

What is so weird, is that because of years of correcting for these issues, my sense of direction, ON FOOT is good, if not better than most people. Also, once I realized that, given the opportunity, I very much do whatever I can with my left-hand, and that my hearing is MUCH better than I even thought, I am far less clumsy. Depth perception is still crap, but that is probably also because I was forced to spend years without the glasses I needed (and got earlier this year after living with chronic eye strain)

When I talk about these "issues" it is in line with female autism, but you know what? If really do have adult autism, then I am a Complete Boss because I have pwned that ho.

After being rehospitalized, a kind nurse suggested I may have PTSD and suggested medicine for insomnia and nightmares. It was extremely helpful. I had been looking into C-PTSD for a while, because I didn't think I had "suffered enough" to have "real" PTSD. But that isn't how diagnoses work.

Btw, I still have Bipolar I, Psychotic Features. Another kind nurse told me I don't need anti-psychotics, and no, I don't. I was given Zyprexa by a bitch nurse and it was like getting drunk. I stumbled the halls, almost fell over (possibly did) and woke up with a neon "Fall Risk" bracelet. Anti-psychotics also fucked up my menstrual cycle for years and I have had lingering hormonal isssues. Haha no thanks.

Anyway, I digress. Of course I am fucked up. I lived under family members who questioned my reality, attempted to crush my dreams, threatened me with physical punishment any time I behaved in non-neurotypical ways, violated my rights and interfered with my treatment even though I was a full legal adult, undermined my relationships, tortured and socially isolated me, etc., all under the guise "of knowing best."

In minority cultures, our darkness hides in plain sight, and ESPECIALLY in the Bible Belt, with its supeestition and idolization of familial hierarchy/patriarchy, victims of financial, spiritual, emotional, and physical abuse have no where safe to turn. The Long Arm of the Law is often Short when it comes to "breaking up the family", and women and children are victimized openly with little to no intervention.

On top of doing my Creative Work, I plan to create legislation to make sure that what happened to me and my siblings isn't allowed to go unpunished. We lost my older brother, and I almost died, too, but Enough is Enough.

The Time is Now.

P.S. If Josephine is an Air Nomad I identify as a Water Bender. I basically have no water in my astrological chart, but water signs bring me great comfort in times of need (and make bad romantic partners for me obviously)

Also, this is one Bad Biyatch.

I also found out I am an ISFJ, not INFJ. Yep. Gonna be a Playwright and Director. I want to be a part of the action, not just writing about it.

#losing my religion #religious abuse #spirtual abuse #toxic family #parental abuse #no more silence #god is a woman #suicide #mental health #neurodivergence #homeschooling #social isolation #musical mind #soundtrack of life #true love #it gets better #covid2019 #college dropout #Youtube #Korra is my Avatar #we must complete our purpose

[dangan-happy]

Password: No offense, but you're really looking good today

To: Anyone I guess, but preferably Izuru, Celeste, and/or Mikan

TWs: Hopelessness(?), numbness/repression(?)

Where do I even begin? Well, I gotta start somewhere. Ah, sorry in advance if this becomes too long and I end up becoming too much though... oh, and, um, just call me RiRi, okay?

These past few months, I've been experiencing a depressive episode that's been slowly but surely getting worse. And nowadays, even when I have good moments or even really good days, it either gets ruined or it just... completely vanishes for no reason, y'know? It's like the depressive episode is this weird, black slug monster within me that absorbs whatever positive feeling I'm, well, feeling, even if nothing bad is happening or is going to happen whatsoever. It's almost like flicking a light switch to the 'Off' end. I chalk it up to mood swings/dips, to which, is something I've been experiencing more frequently as of this past month or so.

Like for example, I had a really amazing day yesterday! I went out shopping with just my mom, we went out to eat, we had a fun time overall, and it was just... amazing. Once I arrived back to my house, I was just immensely happy stimming/fidgeting hours afterward. Today [the next day] though? Almost a complete 360: mentally/emotionally exhausted, dull, almost numb even, wanting to just lay in bed and not get up. Online classes are a pain, excuse of a family's a pain, everything's just a pain. I'm not exactly feeling s*icidal; just completely dull. Ironically enough, I feel like a walking Izuru, just without the God complex powers.

I just feel like I'm way broken beyond repair, and that sooner or later, I'm going to become too much to those who care about me and try to help me, especially since I have Major Depressive Disorder, anxiety (generalized and social), some suspected ADD (not suspected by me, but by my counselor), and now, some suspected bipolar (whether it's just general bipolar or perhaps bipolar depression is unknown. Bipolar does sort of run in my bloodline though, to be fair). And I'll admit, nowadays, my anger issues are more frequent and current. One person who I care about so much has made their fear clear when my anger becomes a total wildfire, and has told me whenever I get that mad that they're going to leave me alone until "the old RiRi comes back", which not only stabs me in the heart, but angers me even more. I understand why they say that though; I don't want to hurt anyone else. Not again.

Wow, this is... becoming too long and sort of off track, ain't it? I'm sorry; I'll just try to wrap this up here. I don't know what I want. I'm not too big on advice; I'm normally into wanting to be left alone or just wanting someone's company (basically, talk to me about anything but whatever's bringing me down or such). So I guess just a hug will do? I... really did outdo myself here; I'll go ahead and stop now. I tend to ramble and have the habit/mindset that if I don't explain to the fullest, the other person(s) won't have a full, clear understanding. Sorry again, and I hope everyone has a lovely day.

~ RiRi

This is not your first visit here, RiRi. One such as I can sense this. You are always welcome to say as much as needed.... So your Sunday was possibly an amazing day, daresay it was one of the best days of your life, and from Monday onwards, things went south. You’re low in the depths of misery and despair. The level of change is quite fast. 

You mention someone very close to you often decides to keep distance at your negative moments, the moments when you are most in need of aid. While it can be seen as a heart-wrenching act, it may be possible that your ally was to ensure that in the moment of struggle, they refrain from saying anything regrettable. A possible outcome, one of many. Do not think ill of them for doing so, the people you are with, they care immensely for you, in a way you will never understand nor see. 

Above all, you asked for a hug. I can only tell you to keep living, and to avoid doing anything rash again. I cannot enforce you to promise that, but remember that there are those who love you, even when you think otherwise. Doubt them, and you will only sustain more pain. So have hope. 

- Oh goodness, isn't this a long one. Alright my dear, I'll be sure to give my full effort. RiRi is a lovely name, and there's no need to apologize. You're not too much at all! I'm happy to help. A black slug monster is quite the descriptive way to describe depression. I quite like it, and it's a perfect representation. That emotional back and forth must be exhausting, I'm sorry you have to go through that. I've heard of that happening before, and its even happened to me before, so I can understand how you feel. I am quite pleased to hear that you had a good day. Days like those are always wonderful things, even when we're going through a dark time. I think you may have been emotionally exhausted the next day, but I am obviously not a professional, so don't take my word for it.

Hmm, yes those feelings of dullness are terrible, although I am glad to hear that you aren't feeling suicidal. Yes, that state does remind me of Izuru. I'm very sorry you're going through this. You're not broken beyond repair my dear, that's not the case at all. Everyone has their diagnoses, but that doesn't mean you're broken or beyond repair. Yes, I would say that there are some emotional issues, but that does not make you broken, or place you beyond repair. You're never going to be too much. The people that truly care for you would never abandon you for reasons such as that. I think it's a good thing that you already have some finalized and suspected diagnoses. That might help the treatment and help target more of the specific issues.

Yes, I can speak on anger issues, I unfortunately have experience. Personally, I do not like the statement your friend used. While anger can be scary, saying something like that is quite hurtful, and I do understand how that hurt you. Can you tell when those anger flashes are coming on? I would try to learn to recognize them, and potentially separate yourself from others when you feel one happening. While I think your friend should protect themselves, that wasn't the best way to phrase it. It's very kind of you to worry about others. Learning to recognize when these shifts are coming could help you avoid hurting others unintentionally. Practice makes perfect though, so be prepared for that. It's alright, most people tend to ramble while they are venting, I was still able to understand what you are saying. In all honesty, I would say exactly what you've said here to your counselor. Make sure they know about these mood shifts, and they may be able to do more on their end. Everything I've said is a suggestion, so take it or leave it my dear. I just wanted to make sure that I had plenty of things to say to you, since an ask of this length certainly deserves it.

Again, there is no reason to apologize, and it's ok to not know what you want. I understood what you were saying perfectly, so there's no need to worry about that. I may have outdone myself on this response, so we're in the same boat together, aren't we my dear? I'm certainly happy to give you a hug. Angry or not, you're a lovely, wonderful person RiRi. You are not broken, and you are not beyond repair. We all have our struggles in life, and some are just more prominent than others. I hope you have a lovely day as well, but you're not allowed to leave until I give you a hug!

#danganronpa #danganronpa roleplay blog #ask #izuru kamukura #celestia ludenberg #Mod Mura #mod celeste

[loverofpiggies]

After having a bit of a breakdown, I'm struggling to pull myself out of it. Any tips? I dont want to lose my job but its affecting my performance because I have panic attacks at work and a part of me is so scared that I'm somehow faking it and am really just lazy or something

I recall, back when I worked at Hobby Lobby still, I had a panic attack so bad I thought it was a heart attack, and I was sure I was dying.Shortly after, I recall being in such a panicked state, that driving home from work one day, I was so overwhelmed with absolutely everything, I almost just. Drove as far north as I could, and mentally planned to live in hotels until I ran out of money in my savings account.

I was having some bad mental breakdowns during that time, wasn’t great to my friends and girlfriend, and closed myself off almost entirely. It was pure hell. So I have DEFINITELY been there.

First things first: You are definitely not lazy. Living with that kind of anxiety, it puts your brain and body into overdrive. Your brain is working so hard trying to curb all that, that I’m sure it’s exhausting. Hell, it did me.

I know this is advice that a lot of people are given. But first things first,

talking to a professional therapist literally saved my life.

(I’m bolding that, because I STRONGLY recommend a professional. I can only speak from personal experience, but I am no therapist!) You have to find a good one, and I highly suggest going every single week (It’s been 5 years, and I only miss when I have to) But here are a couple things I have personally learned.(A ton of text under the cut!)

1. Journal the feelings out.

Let yourself feel all those awful emotions- but ONLY in a safe environment. If you do not think you are ready to face it, that’s okay, it’s all baby steps. But when you try to shove down scary, or unfortunate things, they will always find a way out- and anxiety is a great outlet for pent up feelings.

The reason why I say to journal, is when you try to speak to yourself, or talk it out- your brain has a tendency to try and rationalize away your feelings. My therapist told me directly to JOURNAL, because speaking is another step that your brain can use against you- but writing down? Your thoughts can be dropped directly on to paper, with WAY less rationalizing your feelings away. I didn’t believe my therapist when I first started journaling, but boy howdy, it’s been a miracle.

2. It’s okay to not be okay.

This is one I still struggle with, but let me explain it in more detail. You worry you’re faking it, or you’re being lazy, but that definitely isn’t the case. It’s OKAY to not be alright. I used to be extremely hard on myself, too. I used to be like ‘Everything is going my way. Why can’t I be happy?’ ‘What is wrong with me?’ ‘I’ve made my dreams come true, why am I still so unhappy?’

I was being so hard on myself, I was intensifying it, and making it even worse. I started to curb those thoughts, by just being honest with myself. ‘I feel like crud today. It’s fine, I’m just going to let myself feel like crud.’ or ‘Okay okay, brain I get you, I’ll take a break’.

The funny thing is, the more you teach yourself it’s okay to not be okay, it helps give you more good days. The less hard you are on yourself about your anxiety, the less intense the anxiety gets. Accepting the bad parts of you and learning to love yourself with those parts, actually tends to lessen the bad things from happening. They still happen, but it’s WAY less painful, and usually lasts way less time, too.

3. Be brave.

Let me use a couple of examples for this one.

I used to be too terrified to leave my house. I was certain if I were to- say- take a walk down the street, I would be attacked, or murdered. Like, legit, daily fears. I don’t live in a dangerous area- but I treated it like a warzone.

Certain times- I’m not kidding you- I used to be too scared to leave my closet. I can’t go into detail about that, but. Yes, that was daily life for me for a while.

So? I was scared to take walks. So I made myself take walks. I started taking walks for five minutes every day. During those five minutes, I would absolutely be panicking. I’d be checking behind me. I’d think all sorts of terrifying thoughts. But. I made myself walk.

Then I bumped it up to ten minutes. Then twenty. And let me make it very clear- through out most of this, I was scared. Every step of the way. Terrified. But I knew, that if I did not face this fear, then it would cripple, and control me.

Because I forced myself to make those baby steps back in college, and become more and more open- it is the only way I could have possibly traveled to sell at conventions. Now? I fly around the country, and take public transport, and hell, today I’ve been hanging out at a ton of local parks just because it’s fun- and the only reason I got that far, was because I had a fear, and I faced it- no matter how much terror it gave me.

This is related to everything. In therapy, I HAD to face memories that I shoved away for years. It was hard. And it was scary, and I cried, and I felt all those things I had to feel-- but because I faced them, and with the help of my therapist, learned how to handle them- I’ve never felt so confident, or brave. Because I faced walking outside, or faced my deepest insecurities- it is the ONLY reason I am where I am.

Remember: I used to be terrified of leaving my home- and now I spend entire days exploring the outdoors. Why do you think I enjoy posting lots of instagram videos about my outdoor experiences? I know people who have never faced those fears like I have.... and trust me. It is not a life I’d wish on anyone. So no matter how scary it is- you do have the strength to do it, but you have to be gentle with yourself and take gentle steps.

And to face these fears in this way? Gives you a CRAPTON of confidence, let me tell you. I’ve never been more certain I can face whatever life throws at me- because I keep forcing myself to face the scary things anyway.

And 4- the thing that took me the longest to learn.

4. There is nothing wrong, with doing medication.

For years, I did everything I was supposed to. I went to therapy every single week. I journaled almost daily, I made myself start taking walks- I made myself start doing things I was too scared to do, and so I did EVERYTHING I could.

And I want to make it extremely clear, all those things I did changed my life significantly for the positive. But sometimes, on top of all the other junk, you still have a chemical imbalance going on. Remember, the human brain is huge and complicated and it takes a lot of things to function the way it’s supposed to. And sometimes, something in it is just kinda off.

From my extremely, EXTREMELY limited understanding of the brain (don’t @ me) my brain was either burning through serotonin too quickly, or not producing enough. Serotonin is related to a lot of things, like depression and anxiety.

Even though I did all the other things I was doing, and they were DEFINITELY, absolutely helping me- there was still an imbalance- and I began taking medication to help correct it.

And there is a reason I put this on number 4. The only reason the medication helps as much as it does, is because I have all the other skills I’ve gained. Medication is not a cure all. It helps with my anxiety yes, but only because I’ve gained the skills to recognize when I’m having increased anxiety. Because I know when I need to journal, or take time to myself, or spend a day outside, or to talk to my therapist- THAT is why my medication has helped so much. My medication was the final step, literally the final tool I needed, on top of everything else I use daily to keep myself mentally in check.

And a final thing to remember?

This takes time.

When you do all these things, the therapy, the journaling, all this self assessment, what you’re really learning to do, is to reprogram your brain. I was reprogramming my brain from having intense fear from going outside. I reprogrammed my brain in a billion more subtle ways, to benefit me. I only was able to do this, with a licensed professional, that I connected with and that I could tell cared about my wellbeing.

And five years ago, hell, even three years ago- I was a wreck. And all this work? This struggle? This deep dive into my brain? God, it’s so worth it. It’s really, REALLY damn worth it. I had to teach my brain that it didn’t need to protect me by putting up all these barriers, that I wanted to feel all the things it was trying to protect me from... and it’s changed everything. I’ve never felt so content.

And once again, that IS with diagnosed complex trauma, anxiety disorder and PTSD. You can live with those things and be happy, but you gotta fight for it. The fight is hard, but the results are absolutely worth it.

And even if you don’t think you can do it, I know you can. The brain likes to be really hard on itself, but that doesn’t mean everything it thinks is true. Because I’ve been there. I thought I couldn’t do it. I thought I’d be trapped feeling awful forever. But I fought- in small ways, then in big ways.

You just have to find the right direction to go. And, I hope this helps you pick a direction that will help you. 

#mental illness #advice #sad maybe? #I dunno how yall would want me to tag this #long post #for some reason it wouldn't let me put it under a cut? #turretangel

[ae-diaries]

My Life Testimony

Warning: Long post ahead

The content of this blog has me holding a secret I've kept hidden for a long time. I'm a bit hesitant to share my personal story because others (who knew me already) may be shocked or turned off 😅, but hopefully, the thoughts would bless someone and help you face your weaknesses and rise above them. This is a celebration of the greatest miracle I received from God. I never thought that miracle was real, until circumstances proved that it is possible. 

Foremost in my mind is when I was a high school kid. My life was symbolized by the microphone; I’d been exposed to sing in front of a crowd, be it in school or amateur singing contests. It's not to boast but it felt like I was a singing sensation back then, others dubbed me as 'songbird', 'sweet nightingale' to name a few 🤣. But when no one's looking, I felt, for lack of a better description, just off. This was caused by a certain physical condition that tear down my self-image. 

It all began when my mother noticed that I had an uneven shoulders when I was 13 years old. Later on, I was diagnosed with scoliosis measuring a 20-degree curve, and so my doctor from PGH gave me various stretching exercises and required me to wear a brace to prevent the curve from worsening or else surgery awaits me.

I freaked out inside. At the back of my mind, I wondered, “Why me?”. From then on, a hidden scar symbolizes my 'private' life. People might not notice it, but really I was riddled with inferiority complex and lack of self-worth. Nakakaiyak isipin, imagine ako lang bukod tanging estudyante sa private skul na may ganitong klaseng kundisyon. How I pitied myself. Parang ayoko nang lumabas. Hiyang hiya ako. 

I usually cried and pahirapan pa every time my mother would be putting the brace into my body, kabilinbilinan niya wag ko daw aalisin para daw mapabilis paggaling ko, but there was this one time, while I was on my way to school, naisipan kong dumaan muna sa haus ng classmate ko para lang ipatago yung brace ko. And it happened many times. Ang bigat nyang dalhin, di lang sa katawan kundi pati narin sa kalooban. Later on, they found out what I was doing, until wala na silang nagawa sa tigas ng ulo ko. Fortunately, my classmates did not bully me in school; however, I was still very conscious and afraid that my crush would see me like a bionic kid. To this day, I have never told my parents about this reason. You know as a teenager, I was overly sensitive by the opinion of others. And that's all that matters to me. I didn't think of the consequences of this action. 

Fast forward to 2012, sabi nila end of the world na this year (according to Mayan calendar), feeling ko katapusan ko nadin when I went back to the doctor and learned that the deformity progressed to over 50 degrees. Reality finally hit me! A major surgery was needed to correct my S-curved spine. Why I didn't just wear that darn thing? I must admit nagpabaya ako as I was trying to live like a normal kid. At that time, I was already employed in my first job so I filed for a two-month leave. Luckily, my very understanding boss approved it. I also had an amazing orthopedic surgeon, Dr. Teodoro Castro, who explained to me the procedure (though it was as clear as mud to me). He was very reassuring, so I didn't get scared. 

And when he asked, "Kelan mo gusto magpa-opera?," Without a second thought, I replied, "Kahit po bukas na doc!". My thoughts were, "If not now, when pa?"( I felt like I was running out of time.) His eyes bulged upon hearing my immediate response! And so he set the schedule to May 16, 1 p.m (which I spent at Sta. Teresita General Hospital in Quezon City). 

It was exciting, really, though it had 'Final Destination' feels. Andaming 'what ifs', what if di ako maka-survive? Bigla kong naisip talagang 'life is short' at ang dami ko pa palang di nagagawa sa mundong ibabaw such as makapag-serve kay God through joining a spiritual ministry, to travel for a cause, makapag-abroad, makakanta sa tv, makita si Regine & Sarah, magamit license ko to teach students, maigala ang magulang ko, and to have my own family. Sana magawa ko pa ang mga ito after post-op. 

More so, I felt my family's collective fear; I could actually hear the loud beating of my parents' chest when they signed the waiver 🤣. My father had worries that my voice might deteriorate after the operation. Laying in my bed and knowing that I may be that close to dying, I delivered my prayer of surrender to God and remained fearless. The comforting lyrics of 'You made me Stronger' by Kelly Clarkson became my fight song while in the hospital.

Waking up after the operation was the highlight. Being groggy from the anesthesia, I opened my eyes, feeling like it's just a continuation of my short sleep. I saw the nurses and my family - patiently waiting for me to wake up for almost 6 hours na daw. The first thing I asked was, "Tapos na?" (many times). I felt a huge sigh of relief when they uttered the words that struck me to the core, "Oo, tapos na." S*** I couldn't believe my ears; I was flying with joy! For years I have prayed for this miracle. I wanted to shout and do any dance challenge, 🤣 but how could I do that? They were preventing me from talking yet or make any movements because a mask was surrounding my nose and a lot of apparatuses were attached to my body. Later on, I learned that my younger brother cried after seeing me survived the operation. May kadramahan din pala si brother na lagi kong kabangayan 😂. While the success of my operation wouldn't be possible if it weren't for the assistance provided by my father's company, DMCI Corp. That's why I'll always be indebted to their big boss, VAC (May his soul rest in peace).

My healing lasted for almost nine months. I never suffered from complications, just pure torture and regrets na sana di nalang ako nagpa-opera (huhu). This is no exaggeration but dinaig ko pa talaga ang na-cesarean. On the first month after my operation, I became disabled and reached levels of pain I thought never existed in human experience: It was difficult to breath; I could not stand and walk on my own; I became excessively skinny because of drug intake - this was a legal drug prescribed by my doctor which can remove the pain only for 4-6 hrs. It felt so pathetic and frustrating to see myself in front of the mirror. No matter how much I tried to be positive, my insecurities gripped me down again and again to the point of questioning God: "Is there a hope for me?", 

"How come others could breathe and walk so well? During these times, inggit na inggit ako sa mga taong nakakalakad at nakakahinga ng maluwag. Feeling ko life is so unfair. Somewhere deep inside, I believed I was ugly, that He really didn't like me and it was His punishment for all the sins I did in the past. As I poured out my grief before God, a question popped in my head: “Mira, give me reasons why you should remain grateful?.”

“Seriously, how can I be grateful in times like this?.”

But in those agonizing moments, a light of hope from my parents’ eyes illuminates my darkness. 

In all the times that I cried and complained, I never saw them get too tired to feed me or serve me even if it would make them uncomfortable to make me comfortable. I couldn't imagine how they felt when I looked down on myself. Aside from my parents, my siblings, concerned relatives and genuine friends also never left my side. It's as if they became my extra pair of legs when mine refuse to walk. And my heart is full of gratitude today because they have loved me during the times that I didn't love myself. 

I'm living a normal life now as if nothing happened but others observed that except for my angelic voice 🤣, I tend to become forgetful and a little bit of deaf (Yes to this level) - this was probably caused by my extra dose of antibiotics intake 🤣. They noticed that I walk with lightning speed, as if may hinahabol daw ako lagi - maybe subconsciously, this has something to do with my life goals. Yes, I do get tired easier that's why there are some things that I must not do such as lifting heavy objects, sport activities (except for swimming), washing a mountain of clothes 🤣, bawal ma-stress and ma-exposed sa extreme cold places 😅.

As they say, true wisdom is learning from your shortcomings. For everything that I'd been through, I realized that there's a lesson hidden underneath the pain and it was God's way for me to:

(1) strengthen my faith - It was through this difficult times that I also underwent a 'spiritual surgery/enlightenment'. It has helped me find my stride in God and pray like I have never prayed before (for I know nakalimot ako). I didn't know all His plans but surely He was turning my brokenness into greatness. 

(2) love myself, invest in my relationships and create good memories - The whole discernment gave me the courage to keep progressing. I began to accept my imperfections, pick up my self-esteem, and do the things I haven't done before: Much is to be done but so far, I already saw Miss Regine and Sarah in person, traveled to different places, got to teach students in schools, treat my parents - brought  them to concerts and resto; spent midnight snacks and watched movies with my siblings; hang-out with friends; reunited with a long lost friend; restored a broken relationship, and tried to forgive someone;

(3) appreciate the fine details of life - More and more, my wishes become simpler. I realized there is more to life than any material thing could give, and that is getting enough oxygen and optimal healing to every organ in my body. Sobra kong na-appreciate ang buhay ko, especially the air I breathe, and the legs that carry me everywhere.

Eto lang sapat na 'to be happy'. Why did I fail to notice this before? And that's also what I want to ask you, when was the last time you were thankful for the air around you? True to what they say, the best things in life are free, but the problem is we're not contented with what we have and complicate rules to experiencing happiness: “I will be happy only if I’ll be able to upgrade my phone, buy a latest collection of chanel bag, wear a new pair of sketchers shoes..” And I'm so guilty of it because I once was a shoppaholic before that I forgot to remember how 'enough' I truly have.   

As I look back, hagulhol nako sa iyak - there were tears in my eyes, but they were no longer tears of pain but tears of gratitude - thinking how would I survive without the amazing people in my life.

I believe that God wants me to write this article so that I could speak for Him and claim that today, I can go out without any worries because I'm no longer ashamed of the scar life has left me with. It's a blessing in disguise; a sign that I conquered pain and fear. Wala na sigurong pagsubok na di ko kakayanin dahil kinaya ko na yung 'pinakamahirap' because truly, life is about not giving up and trying to fix yourself up after every fall. 

I cannot make the scar disappear but by looking at it, I see a testimony of survival, inner strength and God's miracles. Jesus never said it wouldn't be easy, but He said it would be worth it!  - Matt. 7:13

#secondlife #lifetestimony #embracingmyscar

[tanksforasking]

YOU'RE OUT HERE MAKING MY *LIFE.* Maybe something where tony gets hit during a fight and thinks he's fine but he's actually either concussed or bleeding internally, and after the battle he's all loopy and they (whoever you like lol i'm not picky on this part) think it's adrenaline, then he's cranky and they think it's exhaustion, then he's collapsing and they're like "oh fuck" (PS if you don't like this i can try again!)

OOOIIIIIEEE IT’S PAST 2 AM AND I HAVE WORK TOMORROW.  I AM AN IDIOT.  Anyhoo, this one is for you and that adorable prompt @taylortut!  Idk if this is exactly what you wanted, but I gave it my best shot!  (Also plz tell me if I missed any grammar stuff or if something just straight up doesn’t make sense cause my eyes are too tired to catch everything rn.  Also Also this will be cross-posted to AO3 and FFN).  Enjoy!  

                                               Word Count: 1391

Tony certainly was by no means unfamiliar with crash-landings.  It could be said that they had become somewhat of an occupational hazard for him.  But, unlike most things he seemed to encounter in his line of work, crashes always seemed a lot scarier then they actually were.  Once the initial shock wore off, he could usually just pick himself up, dust himself off, and get right back into the fight.  Rarely was one of his unfortunate meetings with the pavement or the side of a building something that actually caused any severe ramifications.  

Key word being rarely.  

It had been a typical downtown scuffle for the Avengers.  Another lunatic that happened to get access to weapons way beyond their pay grade and used them to wreak absolute havoc on the basis of some half-baked ideology and a superiority complex.  By all means, it should’ve been an easy takedown.  

And it almost was.  

Unfortunately, said psycho happened to pack one Hell of a punch, and just before Sam came in for the final, aerial takedown, the jerk managed to land one last, lucky hit...  

Right to the back of Tony’s head.  

The next few moments seemed to defy time itself.  The moment the criminal’s armored fist made contact with the back of his helmet, Tony felt a brief sensation of exploding pain travel across his skull, followed by total, encompassing darkness.  When he did come to again, it was just in time to see a cement wall inches away from his face, the distance between he and it closing rapidly.  The pain from the impact could barely be distinguished from the lingering ache of the initial strike, the cries of his worried teammates through the coms only aggravating his condition.  

Rhodey’s voice was the first he could truly register throughout the cacophony.  “Tony, you still with us, man?”  

Tony grunted, shifting under the light rubble that now covered him.  Despite the natural aching in his head that would come after such a blow, he couldn’t detect any major bodily damage.  Unfortunately, after several tries, he was unable to activate FRIDAY to confirm his theory, the AI system most likely having been damaged in the crash.  It was something he made a mental note to check on later.  

“Yeah, Rhodes, I’m here.  Did Sam take down crazy?” he finally answered, steeling himself to get back up and fight if needed.  

The sigh of relief on the other end was nearly tangible.  “You have us worried for a moment there, Tones,” he chuckled, “and yeah.  Sam’s got him detained and DODC’s already on their way to clean out his warehouse.  We’re all done here.  How are you?”  

Tony mentally scanned himself again.  Admittedly, it was difficult to tell if anything was out of place with the throbbing of his head overwhelming almost every other sensation, but nothing seemed to be horrendously wrong, so he diagnosed himself as fine and began to dust the rubble off.  “All good, just gotta dig myself out a bit.”  In the distance, Tony could hear sirens, confirming for him that first responders were almost on the scene and their job was done.  

Rhodey’s voice crackled through the coms again.  “We sent your Spider-kid your way just a moment ago.  You should have some help getting you out of there pretty soon.”

Tony sighed, offered a quick thanks and surveyed his surroundings once more.  The dust was clearing, and it seemed like it would be fairly easy to get out on his own.  Still, with the lingering dizziness that wasn’t seeming to lighten up with time, he wasn’t going to turn away the extra help.  Who were they sending again to him again?  Was it Sam?  

Before he could recall, his question was answered by the overly-cheerful shouts of Peter Parker as he approached.  

“Hey, Mr. Stark!”  Peter’s voice seemed to reverberate through Tony’s brain, leaving his ears ringing.  Or had they been ringing before?  He honestly couldn’t remember.  “Ya good down there, sir?  Mr. Rhodes sent me to come get you outta here!”  Peter called out again as Tony winced, struggling to comprehend exactly what the kid was saying through the pressure in his skull.  God his head was pounding.  Was it normal for the pain to last this long?  He felt like it wasn’t.  

“Hey kid…” he mustered up the strength to speak, but even so, his words came out slightly slurred. “Couldja maybe use your inside voice?  My head’s still a bit on the tender side right now.”

“Oh, yeah!  Right!” the younger of the two replied in a sort of loud whisper.  “Sorry!  I uh… think I just gotta move this one last block and then you’ll be good to go!”  

“Thanks kid...” Tony grunted before letting his eyes fall closed, the inky blackness being the only measure of relief from the pain he could find.  

He didn’t know how much time had passed before he heard Peter calling his name once again.  

“Mr. Stark?  Mr. Stark!  You can get up now!  I cleared a path for you!”  Peter’s loud whispers echoed in his ears again, every harsh syllable feeling like a hammer against his frontal lobe.  

Tony groaned, moving to stand before he was pulled back down in a wave of dizziness.  His vision was swimming and everything was fuzzy.  Who was talking again?  Why was it so loud?  

Getting unsteadily to his feet once more, he stumbled blindly forwards, trying to grasp onto something, anything to steady him.  

He soon felt some slight support, as if someone was grabbing his wrists and trying to hold him upright.  

“Woah… Mr. Stark, maybe you should sit down…?”  a quiet, worried, and high-pitched voice rang out in front of him.  

Peter.  That voice was Peter.  Peter was the one holding him up right now.  He sounded worried.  He was worried… about him?  What had happened?  

Oh… yeah.  The crash.  That would at least explain the pounding in his head.  

He needed to keep Peter calm.  After that, he just needed to get back to the compound and sleep the rest of it off.  Then everything would be okay.  

“No, it’s fine, I’m just - ”

Peter cut him off before he could finish a proper excuse.  “Mr. Stark, lift up your mask for a sec?”

Perhaps against his better judgement, Tony obliged, squinting and blinking as the now unfettered sunlight hit his sore eyes.  Everything was out of focus and the world felt like it was spinning.  But, through the fog, he could still hear Peter’s voice of concern.  

“Woah your pupils are like, totally uneven.  I’m pretty sure you got a concussion, sir.”

Tony mumbled out a half-hearted rejection, not having the strength to fully refute what was so obviously true.  Hell, all really cared about at the moment was the hope that the world would stop spinning.  

“You’re showing all the symptoms.  We learn about this stuff in health class, ya know.”  Peter chuckled slightly, obviously trying to make light of what was probably an uncomfortable situation for him.  “Why don’t we get Mr. Rhodes to take you back to the compound and get you an appointment with medical, eh?”  Peter’s awkward laughs continued as he wrapped his arm around Tony’s middle and guided him out of the surrounding rubble, com already activated.  “Mr. Rhodes, we’re gonna need an evac over here.  Mr. Stark probably… well, more like definitely’s got a concussion.  Probably not the best idea to have him flying back on his own like this.”  

Tony was vaguely aware of some affirmative banter between the two before he decided to object.  

“Alright, alright kid.  No need for any of that.  I can make it back on my own.”  He figured his argument would have been a lot more convincing had he not nearly tripped and fell as he finished the thought.  

Peter smiled a bit, obviously trying not to laugh before setting his features again in what seemed to be an attempt to appear stern.  “Uh-uh, sorry Mr. Stark, but you wouldn’t let me do this on my own, and I’m not letting you!”  

Tony couldn’t help but smile as the boy’s grip noticeably tightened around his waist.  Later, he’d blame the sentimentality on the concussion, but deep down, he knew that he had a good kid.  

“Dang it, kid.  Stop making such great points.”

[thehappiestandunluckiest]

Cut Throat And All That Jazz

Having a somewhat large scar across your neck is just asking for attention.

I have a sizeable scar halfway down my neck and I get asked about it - often.

Usually, I say “oh this *rubbing my fingers over the sensitive raised skin* ha! funny story, I was held hostage by some pirates and they held a knife to my throat - left a scar,” people tend to step back and gasp. (i wonder why?) then I proceed to say “no I'm kidding - I had cancer.” They have the same reaction again. I find this very amusing.

So at 20 years old, I was diagnosed with cancer. it's an odd thing to say and even odder to live through. But first, let me just say I AM A-OKAY!!! Don’t worry, the C-word brings a lot of terrible connotations (for good reason) but I am fine, doing great!

I was operated on twice and had radiotherapy once. The whole story of radiotherapy is more than worthy of its own post because of the absolute complexity and peculiarness to the whole experience. But let me just tell you about my operations.

I was told I needed my thyroid out around March time, it was scary but back then I didn’t have as many things scaring me.

My operation got postponed twice - my user name doesn’t include unlucky fir nothing...

I eventually had my operation on August 23rd, an exact month after my brother's accident. Thank god my aunt had come to visit she was such a good help- she has a healing spirit.

Before my operation, was slightly nervous but I had gone through and was going through so much that I just wanted it over and done with. My mum brought me to the hospital - private, thank god for work insurance! I'm escorted to my room, that was almost like a hotel room and definitely nicer than the IBIS hotel room my mother and I had to stay in one time in Lisbon.

A young nurse comes in, smiling, very warm and she looks at my chart.

“Emma Wilson, is your dad called David?” Not exactly what I was expecting but ok, “umm.. yes?” “That’s funny a year ago when he was here for a couple of nights this was the bed he stayed in and I was his nurse!” Now, when a hospital knows you so personally that you're welcomed like an old friend you know that your family has a lot of medical issues.

Let’s skip over the boring parts. I get those tights on, I put on the robe, hair in a net, she tries to put my IV in (to any vampires out there - don’t even bother with me I’m useless my veins are so deep) I have a fear of needles so being prodded various times is not good for the nerves. I settle in, all set, my boss, co-workers and family members have all wished me luck, and so have a hand full of friends. I would like to mention that those who were there for me weren’t all people I had expected to be, but I am so grateful for them and their warmth.

I was wheeled into the operation block.

My mum warned me to close my eyes, she had been operated on a few times in her life, people don’t know that about her but she’s been through a lot, all through her life and yet she’s ever sweet, caring and helpful to everyone (even when I tell her not to be to certain people who use her and hurt her-karma will get to you buddy).

So, true to my very nature, I ignored my mothers' advice - but who was actually expecting me to obey orders (ha! you obviously don't know me). So I am trying to take in everything I can, it’s very exciting to me. I wanted to study to be a doctor so I love all the details and procedures. I meet my surgeon and anesthesiologist there.

Side story -  my anesthesiologist is one of a kind. Now I’m not into ladies. But this woman glowed. She radiated this innocent, warm caring aura and I mean this (I wasn’t on any drugs yet so these are all conscious thoughts) she was an angel. And if you ever need a great anesthesiologist contact me because the whole team and her were top notch.

So I get onto the metal bed, bright lights, not what greys anatomy looks like but not too far off. There are quite a few doctors and nurses, but I guess slicing through someone's throat is a pretty big deal, don’t want to slip and cut my carotid artery.

So I'm allergic to some anaesthetics - and this is scary. If you want to research how easy it is to kill someone by anaesthesia you’ll understand why they get paid quite nicely. I was super scared that I’d have a reaction and die. Let’s not sugar coat things, I could, and I was scared. Not of dying, that's far too mediocre of a fear for me. I was genuinely scared of leaving my family when they were already so fragile. And when I got the news that my tumour was malicious and problematic as it actually was latched onto my artery I was so mad at myself, like Jesus, give your parents a break!

So they used the oldest form of anaesthesia which wouldn’t cause my body to log off for good - I was happy they were taking extra measures to calm me down. “This is very safe, but one side effect that modern medicine doesn’t have is that - it burns”. Now I was pretty overwhelmed and was like honey please, I feel no pain. But on my second operation, I felt it a lot more so I can really explain this to you.

The IV is in my hand, dripping saline fluid through my body. This new fluid though feels like battery acid. And I’m a sucker for pain (sorry mum you raised a freak - sue me!) But the fact that you can really feel it, going through the capillaries in your hand, to your fingers, coursing up your arm, finally to your shoulder, it feels thick, like your blood is setting into a thick custard. Then, after your shoulder, you're out, like a light. It works, and that's what matters, but it’s very weird. It's like it happens in slow motion but super fast all at once.

I wake up in the after surgery unit care *insert proper fancy name here*. The nurse is so warm, in fact,I can't fault any doctor or nurse ever throughout this experience. I guess because I was so vulnerable, unable to talk, move, communicate, its like a mother and baby like experience. It was reminiscent of a mother and her newborn (ok let's calm down that's too much ewey gewy for me).

I had read some articles others had written about their thyroid surgeries, a bunch of babies. Ok,I don't want to put people down that’s mean. But, if anyone is going to have this surgery and are scared, here’s how I calmed myself down the day of, the week before and the month before.

“Emma, it has to be done. You know this. It will only get worse. You’re young, you haven’t even turned 20 yet and you have your whole life ahead of you. Get it done. Jack got through what he got through, you can get through this. They wouldn’t put you through things you couldn’t handle - things have a way of working out - they always do.”

Now I know that’s super-specific advice and maybe - probably - didn’t help at all. But you can actually get through anything. Humans are quite the resistant bunch.

So I get back to my ward, there's a girl who’s just had her capillary on her nose burnt off or whatever that’s called. She’s my age and making so much fuss. I’m laying peacefully. I had the remote to the tv so I offered it to her (I’m for sure going to heaven I know).

Now,what did she choose to watch on tv? Guess.

The Fault In Our Stars. Cute right? NO,IT’S NOT CUTE! The girl in the film. What’s she dying of? THYROID CANCER. So yeah that’s what we watched to fall asleep to - lovely. God is playing some sick jokes on me.

I got home, I ate a lot of ice cream, soup and was pampered by my auntie. Everything was smooth after this. Apart from getting the results of the biopsy and having to go through it again 2 months later but it went well. All-in-all having a badass scar across your neck makes you look hardcore and it’s my ‘battle scar’ even if that’s super cheesy.

E. L. Wilson

[kai-keda]

Hello, Kairi. Hope you are doing well today. I watch your latest video on youtube and wanted to ask a question but didn't think it would be appropriate to ask on there. I wanted to ask (if not too personal) what you deal with on a daily since you were diagnosed with bipolar? I do not know much about it besides what I hear but nowadays it hard to believe from others if they never had it before. I'm going to look into myself but wanted your point of view. Thank you for your time.

Well, currently at the time of writing this I’m in a manic phase but I can feel the switch to depression coming on. My cycle usually starts with mania and then goes into depression immediately after.

Mania and hypomania(a lesser form of mania) is what most people call the “highs” but they’re not without their faults despite the slang implying only good things

Since I’m aware of it now I can hold myself back but I have wanted to go on a crazy shopping spree all day today. Like. All day. Luckily I was with my brother which was good but I have to avoid sites like Amazon since he’s gone home now cause I really want to buy those glass Dragon Ball’s but I don’t have the budget so I can’t but ahhhh I really want some Gatorade, too. If I go to the store right now, I’m guaranteed to hit up at least two different stores, buying way more than what I need of each thing (like I want to get 3 packs of Gatorade right now. Really bad.) and then going to get some sushi. Which is also expensive. Dammit me now I really want that sushi.

I seriously want to go shopping really bad right now. Really crazy bad. I just want to go spend all my money but I caaaaaan’t cause that’s not goooooood and I know it’s the mania and not even that I really want those things. Try having a manic phase at a convention. Man that’s crazy.

Hopefully, if I manage to survive this without spending too much money, the depressed phase won’t be as bad. At the very least I won’t be wallowing in self pity about spending too much money but I might end up finding other reasons to wallow. (Sorry if y’all have to put up with that, tumblr.)

The other thing about mania is that you’re constantly full of energy and your work ethic is through-the-roof-way-too-much. Why do you think that video ended up being made? See, that’s an example of how it’s not just about being really happy or really sad. I was super manic so I had energy to do something and I wanted to dish out a video, it just so happened that I was really upset writing and reading that script. I was very sad, but still manic and not depressed.

I also end up starting and never finishing a ton of projects for that reason. My cycles usually only last a week or two but they happen very frequently. Because they happen so quickly, though, I will sometime’s start big projects that are impossible to get done in a couple of days and then hit a depression where I lose interest in doing anything I love to do, including working on the video my manic self started. So animation is doubly screwed for me as something I can’t do.

The anger episodes tend to happen if I’m in a bad mood for whatever reason, like lack of sleep or hunger, and am manic. Again, mania isn’t just about being “happy” just as depression isn’t about being “sad”. My irritability in my mania is easily triggered where I’m just being an all around unpleasant person to be around who becomes super selfish and whiny. Hence “they’re impossible to deal with”. Recently my irritability was going off when I was hungry so I was getting some food and drove ten above the speed-limit on the highway because I was invincible and was frustrated with traffic. I almost caused a serious wreck doing that.

Oh yeah, invincibility, that’s a thing.

Luckily my feelings of invincibility manifest themselves in my idea of being able to go without sleep for 12 hours in a stream or start a project and attempt to finish it in a time that would make a college animation student blush and not the more serious stuff like having INSANE sexual desires and the urge to follow through with them(let’s just say that I’ve seriously considered becoming a “lady of the night” during manic phases and thank God for church and a strong stubborn will for “waiting until marriage” cause that can of worms does NOT need to open lol) but sometimes it also means other things like almost causing a wreck because I can survive anything or taking a 2+ hour drive from my grandparents to my house starting at 2 in the morning because “that’s not a big deal” and doing the same thing several times, tbh.

Well, that’s all I can think of to say about the mania.

Now the depression is stuff I’ve talked about on my blog before and it’s really hard for me to describe. The only way I really can describe the feeling is through purple prose like being in a room with no doors or windows, suffocating in freezing cold while having shadows of “kill yourself” whispered to you constantly. And I mean constantly. I’ve said it before and I’ll say it again, the only reason I’m alive right now is because I’m a coward who is terrified of the idea of infinity.

It’s not being “sad” it’s a new and unique feeling entirely. Like this underlying feeling that separates mania from hyperness only impossible to describe because there’s nothing like it. There’s nothing outside of it to compare it to.

I won’t go into too much detail about that because I already have recently but trust me, it’s really hard.

Now the REALLY FUN ONE: Mania+Depression

Yes, they can happen at the same time and it sucks and those are the hardest ones to get through. And they happen to me a lot.

Imagine all the intensity of the manic emotions only it’s all negative. That’s why I have episodes where I just go off and post after post after post after post is me talking about all the reasons I hate myself and suddenly there’s 10 more essays by me in ten minutes. All expressing negative emotions.

That sucks.

I think now that I’ve finally had one of my manic phases after getting used to the meds I have a better sense of what “normal” is cause I’m not constantly going through cycles, I have moments of calm between them. Until I had this manic phase I was constantly thinking I HAD to be in either a manic or depressed phase or both but that’s not the case.

During those normal times I’m just normal save for outbursts so hopefully the medicine can make those times last longer.I know this is crazy, wildly in-depth but, hey, I’m manic right now, what can you expect, really? I hope I answered your question and thanks for asking. It makes me feel a lot better having gotten to explain it all on paper like that.

[melblogsgfreethruptsd]

June 2017 correspondence. Mom wrote me back, but it was such an underwhelming response, that I'm mad.

To mom: I haven’t felt close to you, and over the years even as an adult, I’ve never felt an emotional connection from you. I can acknowledge things that you have done for me and be grateful for that, and also acknowledge what hasn’t been working between us, as good and bad behaviors are mutually exclusive. Last August I wrote about specific hurtful words and behaviors that you’ve done. Nothing from the no contact letter was mentioned, acknowledged, or questioned at all, and that invalidates my attempts to communicate.  I’m not sure if you understood what I was trying to explain, and I’m not sure about your thoughts on any of it. This is hard for me to bring up, but I think it’s important.

I want to throw out the parent/ child dynamic and focus on our relationship, as adults and equals. I feel like I’ve been treated as inferior, even as an adult.  I tried to be open and honest with the discussion last summer.  I questioned specific instances of poor behavior, and nothing was really said about your behaviors or actual emotions.  Everything sounded like excuses.  There was no empathy, no apologies, which says to me, you don’t care that you are hurtful towards me.  ( I know later you told me, “I’m sorry you never felt loved.”, but to me I felt you were blaming me for not feeling something that you say is there.  The apology also didn’t include your part of our ongoing situation. )  And I specifically brought up instances where I was an adult, so this is not an old childhood problem that I’m addressing, but a long standing pattern of behavior.  It is unacceptable and I’m no longer willing to allow it any further.  It hurts too much.  Especially since the behavior has now carried over to my son.  It’s my job to protect him, so everything is no longer just about me alone.  I am still shocked and appalled at what was said to him.  How can a gross perversity just be unaddressed like nothing? It’s a huge breech of morality and integrity.  

I have a problem with being told how greatly I’m loved, when I saw striking lack of empathy from you last summer.  I was bawling, and ugly crying at the table, and you seemed to have no tears or comfort towards me.  I think it’s rather telling that I was saying for the first time how I thought about being dead at 16, while you were just stone cold.  But later, manage to cry for yourself and the “hard life” that you always bring up. It hurts that you seem to put your feelings first, and even more hurtful when your feelings are used to hurt me. You have a right to your feelings, but not a right to shame or guilt someone else.  Stress is not the answer to all of it, because there is discrepancy between how you treat me in public and around other people, versus alone.

As much as I would like you to be fully honest, I can’t force your free will choices.  And honestly on my end, I’m not sure how much I would believe anyways.  I no longer feel comfortable being alone with you.  I have no idea how you can acquire trust back.  But things have now been severely broken.  Since 2009, I feel like there’s just been a huge downward spiral, starting with the Virginia “unwelcome” thing.  I tried to ask you about it, yet I still don’t know what I SPECIFICALLY did to warrant that reaction.  We were robbed of a chance to make things right, and I was so hurt, that it still pains me deep in my heart.  Nothing was said about what was going on when Matt asked if everything was okay.  He gave you a chance to be honest, and you didn’t take it.

All around I feel there is a lot unsaid between us;  poor communication, manipulation, passive aggression, and even untruths.  Part of the reason all of this is overwhelming is because so much has gone unaddressed, unacknowledged, and unresolved. It hurts too much now to continue to keep everything hidden.

I feel like you don’t know me very well anymore, and just assume things based on my childhood and past self.  Being accused of bad intentions over and over causes me to feel like I don’t meet up to some invisible version of myself that doesn’t actually exist.  In reality, I’ve tried to do my best.  I’ve made a lot of effort traveling back and forth from each state, and moving back to Michigan for a time, which is something we didn’t have to do.  For all my success, I just feel like it’s all forgotten for misconstrued minor details along the way.  For a long time I’ve quietly endured rude, biting comments, and emotionally hurtful behavior, and seen you smirk while provoking me. I just don’t understand why anymore, or where you are coming from.

My life is a cluster of unique, difficult circumstances.  As I said in the first letter, it’s hurtful that you won’t make effort to understand those things, even though you avidly read books.  Now I’ve told you I’ve been diagnosed with PTSD and I just don’t think you’ll try to understand that either.  But irregardless of understanding, there could still be empathy.  However when you accused me of “hating Harts” when I was too ill to leave the house, it shows a gross lack of empathy, and a preference to kick me while I’m down.  It’s hard to see love there.

I don’t want to force you to do anything, or change.  I don’t want you to pretend to be someone else.  Likewise, I no longer want to force things that are uncomfortable to me.  If you don’t want to understand certain things, I’d rather you just say so.  At this point, I would rather have the ugly truth than any more false pretenses. I’m going to start standing up for myself with words and actions.  I want to live not out of fear and obligation, but out of truth and freedom to be who I really am.  The most I want right now is respect and accountability from you.  I think that’s a pretty basic request, yet as of now, I haven’t seen any accountability from what the first letter has mentioned.  It seems like you’re focused on my reaction, rather than your behavior.

All I can do is put my truth out there.  I keep hoping that you understand what I’m trying to confront, but I really feel like maybe we’re speaking two different languages.  Both sides need to do work towards conflict resolution.  Actions have to be present, and matching the words. I feel like words have taken precedence over actions for a long time now. None of this has been easy for me, and I don’t think it will be for a long time.  But just because it’s difficult and feels bad, doesn’t mean it’s wrong.  I’m trying my hardest to still be respectful while working through a lot of pain. I’m just trying to stand up for what is right.  If you are open to write back, I would like to hear what your thoughts are.

Sincerely, M

From mom:

Dear M,

It has been about a year since I last saw you at your home in WA state. I am sorry that you have been in so much pain and internal conflict. I was stunned by your revelations that night at the dining table. Many tears and prayers have been sent to God because of our relationship break. I want you to know I have not forgotten or given up on loving you. Please know that I am aware of many flaws in myself as a person and a parent. Things like keeping myself so busy that I would not take time to hear what you were trying to say. I did not seek to know your inner thoughts. I made providing food, shelter, and clothing more urgent than connecting for fellowship or fun. I have been a complainer and a worrier. Many times I feel too tired to cope with current problems so I hide. I am sorry for letting you down. I have not purposely tried to neglect, harm or sabotage you. I hope you can forgive me for being so flawed.

I have felt proud of your accomplishments: writing, singing, playing the flute and guitar, kickboxing, being a faithful wife, moving from place to place in support of your husbands career. Being a mom to Lil man. I want you to succeed in everything - every good thing that you try.

I don’t expect everything to be understood or healed in a moment. It has taken many years of hurt and silence to build up to this moment. I will be patient and respectful of your feelings. I hope you will do the same for me. Write to me when you feel up to it.

With Love, Mom (1 Corin 13:7)

My thoughts on her letter;

omg, I’m just so angry that I went into so much detail and she conveniently just skipped over all the  specific things I brought up, and then answered with a short, vague, generalized response. I’m just left with more questions. Stunned by WHAT revelations? We talked for 3 hours!! I’m not confronting her bullshit merely because she’s “flawed”! Many years of hurt and silence built up? Whose? Yours? Mine? Both?? And hoping I’ll be respectful of your feelings? I already said I was! (”I’m trying my hardest to be respectful”)

I just don’t know where to go from here. Inside I’m exhausted. This makes me want to do nothing. In nearly a year and their so called “counseling”, THIS was the only response from Nmom… All I wanted was accountability, not half assed sorry’s. She gives me the tiniest truths, but they’re the most obvious things that I already knew, so pretty useless. My biggest problem with the reply is saying “forgive me for being so flawed” doesn’t take ownership of the very specific things I brought up. I didn’t want an apology for my childhood, I wanted acknowledgement that Nmom said and did the things she did, and admitted they were inappropriate and disrespectful. Showing remorse and all that. This just wasn’t good enough considering I went NC/ VLC. We are way beyond the point where one generalized “sorry” is going to be okay. And the “not purposely tried to harm” gets me too, I just think that’s a lie. I’ve seen her smirk at me after saying hurtful things, accusing me of hating family, silent treatment/ passive aggression and all that, IS meant to harm… She still admits nothing that she said to my son, either. (The upsetting, gross, and disrespectful remark that she said to him, “Oh Lil Man, you’re so cute, you’d better watch out because the men like little boys.”) And yes, ugh, the Bible verse. Just like she cherry picked my letter, she cherry picked that verse. I knew it was the whole “love” chapter, and she picked the “believe/hope/ endure” part. Of course. Put up with her no matter what bc “love”? Funny, they conveniently skip the verses about “do not provoke your children to anger”, or “turn away from evil”.

So do I write back? Press further? Keep repeating the exact things I’ve already written? Or do as she’s done to me, and skip over what she writes, and just say a sentence or two about how our communication is just going nowhere ?

#personal #no contact #aftermath #june 2017 #long post #toxic parents #mom #letters

[hirsuteandcute]

Hi! First of all I really love your blog and endlessly appreciate what you're doing! I'm doing my high school media studies diploma thingy (it's hard to explain) about PCOS and would love to interview you here or through email, if possible :) it's nothing too official, I'd just send you a few questions and you could send me the answers when you have time. The finished article would be published in my blogs and if I get lucky, in a local newspaper. I would refer to you as a "blog keeper" (1/3)

or by your first or full name, as you like, and name your blog in the article if it's okay to you. I would also translate the whole thing to English and publish it in my blogs and fb. I too have pcos so the whole thing is partially me trying to come in terms with it... And raising awareness in my school at least :) I know how the shit hits the fan sometimes so if you don't have the energy for this, I totally understand and it's totally okay :) thanks in advance!You don't have to anwer to any of these if you don't like :)1) How many followers do you have? What kind of people they typically are?2) Do you have any thoughts about why pcos is not spoken about in the media? What should change about how it's presented / the lack of it's presentation?3) What symptom is the most difficult to deal with for you?4) Have you ever faced any kind of "suspicion" about pcos?5) How has pcos affected your life?

Okayyy, I’m so late answering this, I don’t know if I’ve missed your deadline, if so I’m sorry! Things have just been a bit all over the place at the moment :S If it’s ok I’m not really down with like, having my personal information out there like my full name and stuff. I’m sorry it’s just that this is kind of a personal thing for me and I appreciate having a little anonymity. I’ll answer your questions anyway if it helps you or anyone else reading at all.

1. At the moment I have 1,220 followers. I have to go through my followers list quite regularly to make sure there are no pornblogs/bots/fetish blogs etc following so I can flush them out and block them. I’m very very grateful for all the wonderful people that follow me otherwise though and it’s really reassuring to know there are so many out there going through the same thing as me :) As for the type of people they are, of course there are many different people but I do admit to checking out my followers blogs when I can so I can get to know them a bit better 🙈 . I tend to find that they’re artistic and thoughtful/contemplative people more than anything which I find really sweet and wonderful. I have a lot of followers that enjoy music and fashion and quotes and poetry and paintings which is lovely. They’re often very kind and very strong especially as I know a lot of them suffer from depression or anxiety. I’m also really surprised at how international my followers are, I thought they’d mostly be from the UK or the US but there are a lot of people on here from all over the world!

2. If I’m honest? I think because a. it’s primarily a women’s illness b. it’s not something immediately visible, like you can’t look and tell someone has PCOS c. it has a few ‘unattractive’ symptoms such a excess hair growth or acne or weight gain and the media likes to pretend that women shouldn’t have those things or look that way and since it’s related to periods and the menstrual cycle which is already a ‘taboo’ subject, people would prefer not to talk to hear about it and d. since there isn’t really a ‘cure’ and there’s limited amount of funding and research into it it’s maybe not a very widely known illness, I didn’t even know what it was until I was diagnosed. I’d love it if there was more awareness spread about it, if women felt more able to talk about their hormones or their periods so that they’d feel more comfortable getting help if something was wrong and if there was more education as to what a ‘normal’ or ‘abnormal’ period is like, I was taught almost nothing about periods at school. 

3. I think either the pain or just like...general hormonal fuckery (you might need to rephrase that one if it’s going in a paper lmao) Hormones affect SO MUCH. Like I get splitting headaches, sudden changes in my body temperature, constipation/diarrhea, loss of appetite and then sudden cravings for something really specific, mood swings, I always wanted to pee, feeling faint etc and these are all connected to my hormones. All the pain of a PCOS period is like..God it’s just a nightmare. I was always just told ‘haha periods are so painful, poor women eh?’ but it’s like, there’s normal period pain and then there’s ‘something’s wrong’ period pain and I wish girls were raised to know the difference. And the pain of a ruptured cyst is just agony, straight up it’s so uncomfortable. Even cystic acne is painful, normal acne is bad enough but cystic acne is soo unpleasant because you can feel it from under your skin and it’s just like a constant stinging even if something lightly brushes your face. 

4. I wasn’t entirely certain what this question meant, i.e. if I had suspicions or if other people had suspicions as to whether I actually had it or whether other people had suspicions as to whether or not it’s a real illness. Personally I know that it’s a real illness, I even have the ultrasound results to prove it, let alone experiencing it on a daily basis. People have had my doubts whether I had it, it took me a long time to get diagnosed once I first went to the GP about it. First they thought it was just because I was young and my hormones hadn’t settled down from puberty yet. Then they said it was because I was underweight. Then they said it was because I wasn’t getting enough iron. Then it was because I wasn’t getting enough Vitamin D, then it was Vitamin C, then it was Vitamin B, then it was Vitamin E, then it was because I wasn’t active enough, because I was depressed, because I suffer from other chronic illnesses, because my periods are ‘just a bit more difficult’ I think it took me almost 3 years to finally have someone suggest that it could be PCOS, it’s ridiculous. People can have all the doubts they want to but ultrasound scans and blood tests should give them all the evidence they need. Sometimes people don’t take it seriously, especially men who think it’s just women being overdramatic about period pain and hormones but anyone who lives with PCOS knows how real it is.

5. Oh man, in so many ways. It’s hard for a start, I’m basically half dead for 2 weeks of the month. I get depressed, my sleeping schedule gets messed up, my eating habits gets messed up, things kind of go down the shitter a bit. It’s also hard because I’ve had to completely re-evaluate how I see myself, to know my pain is valid, to rebuild my self esteem after being ashamed for so long about having a ‘gross’ illness, about being excessively hairy and having painful acne on my face and body and about potentially/probably having to live with this illness for the rest of my life. That’s hard. On the other hand I feel like it’s also made me more compassionate, it’s taught me to be more gentle with myself and ask for help if I need it. It’s helped to take better care of myself and my body and put more thought into what I put into my body and how i treat it. It’s taught me to reach out to my fellow women and the importance of having a community that makes you feel understood and accepted and the importance of not letting people walk all over you because of something that is beyond your control. 

I hope this helps you and anyone else who is curious :) xx

#asks #sorry if there are spelling/grammar mistakes 🙈 #appelssiini

[fuckstudy]

Hey, I have a question regarding test anxiety. I'm a junior in high school right now (11th grade) and I was diagnosed with GAD in 9th grade. But I'll admit that I was a mess in 9th grade - I didn't do my work, it was always rushed, my depression was terrible, I never focused and my GPA was in the gutter. But last year, in 10th grade, I improved a lot. I improved my work habits, I focused, I did everything I possibly could. And I actually did well. I managed to pull a 3.78. Not too shabby. +

(cont) + and this year I’m continuing my work habits. I’m in the IB Diploma programme so the courses are a lot harder but I swear to god I’m trying. But my GPA dropped to a 3.6 and I promised myself I would bring it up. And I studied so goddamn hard for my exams, I swear I did, but I got a C on my business exam. And my grade dropped, and my GPA dropped. I review a lot, I swear. I had a study session with one of the smartest people in my biology class and we went over everything. She told me not +

+ but I can really see that I need the help. My thoughts are drifting toward suicide, and as much as I know that I SHOULD ask for help, I don’t WANT to. My GPA dropped to a 3.4 today. I was at a friend’s house when I found out and I just went to the toilet and cried. All my life (before 9th grade) I was a straight A student. I got awards, I was athletic, I was an all-rounder. But now? I’m stupid, I’m fat, I’m ugly. I can’t do anything right. +

+ I feel like I’m constantly cheating people? I don’t think that makes sense. By people call me smart because I understand the material and I can easily explain it to them, but they don’t know that I don’t do well on tests. And I feel like I’m cheating them and hiding who I truly am. A couple of my friends know, but they don’t really help me out. I mean, yes, they’re there for me. But it’s not directly helping with my anxiety. ++ and I’m sorry for this long message. I don’t know why I sent it on anon to you, because you can’t help me from behind a computer screen, and that’s perfectly okay. I get it. It’s okay, really. But I think I just needed to vent. I need some sort of validation that I’ll do okay in life and I won’t flunk out of high school. I’m just…I’m tired. All the trying and still failing is frustrating me so much. I’m about to just quit trying at all. Why bother? +

+ I’ve tried everything - breathing slowly, reviewing more, clenching and relaxing my muscles, everything. But nothing seems to help me and I just get more and more nervous. Anyway, I’m sorry for this rant. I just really needed to let all this out somewhere. Thank you.

Hi anon, 

Thank you for yourmessage. Thank you for having the courage to share this with me and forreaching out - everyone needs a space to vent and I'm glad that I could helpyou in that regard.

My answer is noreplacement for medical advice, which I actively encourage you to seek ifnecessary. However, from the tone of your message it sounds like you want afriend, someone to listen to you as opposed to medical advice that you'vepreviously sought.

I'm no doctor, but Ican be a friend. 

On working hard and not receiving the grade you want

From your academichistory it sounds like you're a very capable student. I do not doubt for asecond that you've studied hard, dedicated yourself to your studies, andstepped up to meet the challenges of the IB Diploma. Just because your academicresults do not reflect that effort, doesn't mean that it was all done in vain,or that it was a waste of time. Just because you didn't get an A, doesn't meanyou didn't try. 

I was raised on thephilosophy that "if I didn't achieve the best result, obviously I didn'ttry hard enough, and therefore I need to work harder." But life doesn'twork that way. The academic system does not work that way. You can try hard and still fail. Becausethere's a thousand and one factors that are beyond your control, no matter howhard you've tried to control them, or mitigate their adverse effects.  Success is not a reward that youautomatically are entitled to just because you've worked hard.

The grade youreceive will never ever be an accurate reflection of the effort or thesacrifice that you put in. It only accounts for your performance in that tinysnapshot of time - at that exam hall, in that hour, of that one day of yourlife. That's it. It doesn't tell me whether you're a good person, doesn't tellme anything about your sense of humour, what tv shows you like, what songs youlike to sing in the shower, what your favourite flavour of ice cream is. Itdoesn't tell me whether you're a morning person or a night owl.

What hurts is whenwe fail to meet our own expectations. And how we deal with them. I've writtensome posts addressing those points here and here.

On practical advice re: test anxiety

Once again, ifyou've found that seeking professional medical help has assisted in the past, Ihighly recommend that you seek it out. 

Personally, when Ireceive a grade that I'm disappointed in I try to frame it this way: "Itwasn't because I didn't put in enough effort - it was because I was directingmy efforts in the wrong direction."

Its not about howmany hours you study - its about whether your studying habits are addressingthe assessment criteria.

This requires you totailor your studying habits to your curriculum and assessment style.

Don't learn thingsyou won't be assessed on. Prioritise the topics you need to learn by referenceto how much time your teacher spent on it during class, the proportion of thecourse the topic took up in your semester, and whether or not you've been assessedon the topic prior to the exam or not. Ask your teachers. Alternatively, deducewhat your exam will be like by looking at the format of past exams.

Find some time toreplicate exam conditions - for example, doing practice exam questions, workingunder time pressure.  Set up familiarpatterns of behaviour you can replicate in the exam hall - for example, I wouldalways have my watch on the top right hand side of the table and place my sparepens right under, with my waterbottle on the floor. Going through the samesequence of events when I entered the exam hall helped me "get into themindset" and calm me down.  

Whilst nothingreally ever compared to the 'exam' hall for me, I found that being 'familiar'with what to expect made me feel much more prepared when I sat the exam. Sure,my hands still shook when I entered the exam room, and I still felt like Iwanted to hurl, but due to conditioning, my mind adapted to working under thatkind of pressure. And whilst I wasn't performing as well as I would be had Itaken the same question home and "studied" it; at least I wasperforming in an exam environment.

And in the end, that's what it boils down to: it doesn't really matter whetheror not you're performing at 100% in the exam hall - as long as you're puttingsomething on the page, you will be ok. It wont be perfect, but you're gettingthe fuck through it.

And yes, all the"general" tips apply. However, if you're finding that they're nothelping, be brave and seek advice from elsewhere - whether that be medicalhelp, online, journaling, or having an activity outside of the hectic hell holethat is high school.

On getting help

"Knowing"and "accepting" something are two very, very different things.Knowing that you need help doesn't mean you accept that you need it. Acceptingthat you need help does not automatically mean you will get help. And that'sok. Give yourself time to assess your options. Don't feel like it's a "race" to get help - no one should beforcing you to 'get help' nor judging whether or not you do. It's yourrecovery.

But give yourself awarning flag - a threshold that, once breached, will be a sign for you tore-evaluate your options.

Friends are friends.And good intentions are just that - intentions. They don't magically translateto a cure. And its great that they're there for you. But support, whilstuseful, doesn't mean that things will automatically be ok.

Because in the end,its something for you to accomplish.

I think of it as aship. My friends are my crew - they row the boat with me, we share funnystories about what we see on the sea, we swear and curse and cry and love.They'll support me through thick and thin. But in the end I'm the captain of myship, I need to steer the ship in the right course. I still need to call theshots. So we can all get there together.

On imposter's syndrome

Anon, I feel thisall too keenly. 

As someone who has'held themselves out' to be studious, or to be smart, or who completed  an 'advanced degree so oh my god you must besmart', when I don't meet those supposed expectations, I feel like I am animposter. Like somehow, I've "talked to talk" but failed to"walk the walk"

I feel like I don'tdeserve my achievements.

That some day,someone is going to see me for who I am and take all those achievements awayfrom me.

But it boils down tothis: I feel like I needed to 'prove' myself to people.

But why?  You don't need to be perfect, you don't needto be "the smartest person" just because you've been labelled as"smart". You're human - which means you can be a duality of things.You can be study-smart, but street stupid. You can be street smart but studystupid. You can excel in practical application but be at a loss when it comesto theoretical application.

You don't need to beperfect to be "genuine".

You're human. You'reallowed to make mistakes. You are more than this stupid arbitrary box that thepeople around you have chosen to define you by.

And you are morethan your academics. Just because your ability to explain things verbally isn'treflected in your written grades doesn't mean you're "dumb" orcheating, or hiding who you truly are. It probably attests to how you're averbal communicator. And in the end that's only one very small piece of thepuzzle. Who you are doesn't stop at that first sentence.

 I'm a law graduate.I'm smart. I also procrastinate the shit out of everything and regularly pullall nighters, drink too much, stay in bed all day, cry and feel lost.

 All those sentencesare accurate. Who I am doesn't stop at the first full stop.

You're not hiding who you truly are. They're just notgiving you a chance to elaborate on that picture.

On how you are going to get through this

You will get throughthis. You've picked yourself up before and pushed through. You don't need to bethat "all rounder" - you just need to be the version of you who you'dlike to be at this point, at this time. It'll come in small steps, your smallvictories of the day - but define them and celebrate them.  

Remember life is not a collection of binary outcomes.Just because you didn't get an "A" does not mean that you've failed.Just because you're not "athletic" doesn't mean you're"fat". There's so many shades of grey in between. It's not one or theother; its just a work in progress. 

Keep working on it.

Its easy for me tosay because I've completed high school, university, all that jazz. Hindsightand all that. But you will get through this - tooth and nail. And when you comeout on the other side, you'll be able to help others to get through too. Find somethingthat will get you through - heck it doesn't need to be some "life longpassion or dream" that every movie and studyblr talks about - it justneeds to be something small, something that will get you out of bed, somethingthat will help you be kinder to yourself. 

And when its doneand dusted, I can't promise you that life will be perfect, or that you'll havethe life you're dreaming of, but I can promise you that it'll be different towhere you are now.

And sometimes, thehope of change is all we need to get through.

And finally, on how its really, really, really ok to send melong messages  

I can't stress toyou how much I admire your bravery for sharing your experiences with me. I'mnot confident that this message will change anything, or fix anything. But Ihope, at the very least, its helped you feel less alone.

For a moment.

Because messageslike yours are the only reason why I continue to run this shitshow of a blog.

So thank you.

All the best anon.I'm rooting for you.

#test anxiety #studyblr #exam #study #high school #failure #fs: replies #look this is a rambly reply and I'm sorry its so late #but sometimes a conversation needs to be had #and the only way i can do so is via essay #when in reality I want to give you a huge hug #so consider this a hug of words #anonymous #because its hitting like fucking 5am here and I wrote this for you