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iwannawritelots · 5 days

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Every day I go “I need to redo my wardrobe” but everything is so expensive

(and I’m not working yet lol). I’d like to just not be misgendered without having to say anything -w-” like uh, usually I don’t say anything anyways and I’m working on that but saying just “hey uh you said ‘ladies’ earlier and I’m not a woman so I’d appreciate you not doing that in the future, no big deal” should not make me feel like I’m going to DIE on the spot.

It happens less with my mask off but like, every time I try to not wear a mask I get anxious and don’t feel comfy at college (or work) x_x and I will not cut my hair because 1: I don’t want to/I hate how I look with short hair 2: hair being gendered is stupid and 3: it literally does nothing to solve the problem (I’ve tried it before). I’m not even wearing “women’s” clothes, these are all from the “men’s” section except for like my socks? which are not visible?? and I guess my fingerless fishnet gloves but it wasn’t advertised either way (I know it is typically feminine but y’know what fuck gendering clothes). Like my voice isn’t fucking bass or anything but I’d say it’s deeper than before t and holy shit!! Cis men can have high voices!!

The only things I can imagine doing much at this point are wardrobe revamp, building muscle (which is the worst fucking thing time wise/I feel uncomfortable with my appearance wise, I would rather not but it would help my dysphoria), and voice training (resources for transmascs are pretty scarce when I look but I do my best to help myself), but all of that requires I like, have time/money and can consistently work on it. ADHD & OCD brain, schedule, stress, and other shit makes it difficult to just like… do anything?? And looking up androgyny tips does nothing since most of it says literally what I already know I can do but cannot afford (clothes!!) or just heavily genders the person reading it as a woman for whatever reason.

I know I don’t have it that bad in comparison to even like a few years ago or other trans umbrella people but I am so tired. I do like some feminine clothes but I don’t wear them ever now really because I’m just feminized immediately/it makes me dysphoric (and that includes my Asmodeus cosplay lol). Sometimes I do want to be feminine because genderfluid but I am still not a woman then. I go between like kinda man, masc, nothing, and a little feminine, so y’know.

I’m surprised there’s a stereotype of angry trans people screaming about pronouns when literally I — and most trans people I have met — are way too anxious to say something most of the time. I’m sure it comes from transphobes transphobing and/or trans people being harassed and demanding respect, but that on top of how I was treated growing up (and y’know, trans people being heavily politicized/scapegoated to the point were being legislated out of existence in some places that were previously progressing) makes it hard to just ask people to respect my existence. If they don’t know, I’m not mad (maybe if it’s been happening all day I’m a little mad), just frustrated but it’s like, they don’t know. So I gotta tell them. But I feel like telling them will just make it worse.

Anyways. I am uh. not woman. not fucking woman lite. just a creature.

#cinna ramble #obligatory rant tag #rant #I’m just frustrated and being so stressed recently is probably making my brain blow it out of proportion but I am sick of it.#I’m not a lady #nothing about me is ladylike #transmasc #genderfluid #queer #nonbinary

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krisztamayer5 · 1 year

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First response to my questions -

What’s your biggest struggle in day to day life with adhd?

Id say its time organisation and keeping my space uncluttered, and the guilt it comes from being a way that in society is perceived as “lazy” like you dont try hard enough

What’s the biggest challenge you have faced in ur life to do with your adhd ?

The biggest challenge id say would be dealing with the way it impacts your self esteem, dealing with self doubt even when you are successful, getting Impostor syndrome, its either luck or it was too easy because you have internalised that you can never try hard enough. Feelings of insecurity.

Do you feel understood by your education system or workplace as a female with ADHD?

Through primary highschool and sixth form, definitely not. When i specially struggled in sixth form and voiced it trying to get help, the fact you’re not behaving like a 8 year old boy with hyperactivity makes it so hard even impossible to access any help because you dont *seem* to have adhd. Even tho you’re are visibly struggling.

What could make you feel like your voice is heard/understood as an individual with ADHD?

something that would help people (especially women) with adhd feel more seen and heard would be taking the time to acknowledge individual differences without criticising and judging, genuinely care about how you could make something easier or more stress free with someone that struggles to focus/function in certain ways.

Do you feel as though females with ADHD are understood ? why/why not ?

So no, i dont think adhd in females is understood which is so dangerous as most women with adhd go underdiagnosed which just makes you feel like you must be the issue, that you’re lazy and trying to find excuses to not be as good as you could be in aspects like organisation/ academical achievent/ socially etc

Is not understood partly because women are expected to be so much more, must follow every rule, since being little we are specifically told to not be rude or too loud or too much. this clashes with the way a lot of women with (and without) adhd are, causing us to believe there is no option of being the way we are, because too loud or too much or too messy is considered as socially unacceptable. I remember as a kid i would compare myself wirh other girls and how neat and good at some things they were and no matter how hard i tried i was not like that, which would make me feel so bad about myself. Since i got my diagnosis I noticed I subconsciously stopped masking, i was proud of being the way i am. It helped me accept the fact that maybe i cant do some things as fast or easily as other people and that its not because of me, that im not flawed and useless because this is the experience of a lot more of people.

How would you describe your ADHD?

I feel happy to be the way i am most of the time, people with adhd are often creative and empathetic and caring about inequality as we have high sensitivity. Only when i experience a rough patch of dysfunction I feel embarrassed that i cant do some things like i wish I could. Then i feel powerless and useless but there is ways to manage this, specially by taking time to rest and take care of yourself every day.

From this response i was shocked with the answers . I found it interesting that this female felt quite similar to me and my experiences. Things i can take away from this interview that this individual feels as though the education system hasn’t understood her - the words “ the fact you’re not behaving like a 8 year old boy with hyperactivity makes it so hard even impossible to access any help because you dont *seem* to have adhd. Even tho you’re are visibly struggling.” really stood out to me . This has made me think about how i can translate this message using typography? I guess the focus of that message would be to make stereotypes change. So People can get properly educated . I could target my awareness towards the education system .

Thinking about what sort of typographic poster they would view i could research papers that are used in school . Maybe not even . But look at what sort of worksheets teachers use when in training . To grab attention . Maybe going at it in a ironic way trying to make the teachers feel how females with adhd feel by using papers in training layout.

Using this sort of layout rule. ?

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gh0st-patr0l · 3 years

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ADHD in DSMP

So about a week back, I made a post about Karl Jacobs (a bit of a passive aggressive one, I’ll admit, but I think it was justified), complaining that a lot of the ‘criticism’ I see about Karl is actually rather insensitive towards his ADHD. I got a lot of responses to that post, and the most common sources of confusion I saw were:

People not understanding what I was saying they should avoid being judgmental of, or-

People who didn’t know that Karl had ADHD or didn’t understand which behaviors were caused by it.

First of all, Karl has confirmed that he has ADHD.

(NOTE: Yes, I know he said ADD. ADD and ADHD used to be categorized as separate disorders, but in the most recent edition of the DSM, it was decided that they are both simply subtypes of the same disorder- ADHD is the correct technical term. ADD is still sometimes used as shorthand by some practitioners to diagnose primarily-inattentive ADHD, but it's a bit outdated.)

Secondly, that original post made me realize that a lot of people who may be well-meaning may genuinely not fully understand ADHD and its symptoms as well as they want to or think they might. If you aren’t aware, Karl isn’t the only one in the DSMP with ADHD- to my understanding, both Technoblade and Dream have confirmed that they have it as well. So, I thought it would be helpful to put together a comprehensive crash-course on ADHD symptoms and how they effect people’s behavior!

Now, before we go further, I want to address something- as I said earlier, I saw some people unsure of whether certain behaviors are ADHD or “just his personality”. I feel the need to point this out above the read more so people will see it. To answer this question, as someone with ADHD;

A lot of times, it’s both. ADHD is a neurodevelopmental disorder, meaning that it’s caused by the way your brain developed from birth. A lot of the symptoms and effects of ADHD are extremely influential towards the way we think, act, and behave, to the point where “symptoms” and “normal behavior” really don’t have a clean differentiation. This is why it’s technically classified as a ‘disorder’, instead of an illness. While certain aspects of it can require treatment, the condition itself as a whole is not something to be mitigated or eliminated- it’s a part of who we are as a person. This is also why sometimes, even if you don’t have ADHD, you’ll look at certain specific behaviors or experiences and go “Oh, but I do that too!”. A lot of ADHD ‘symptoms’ are just a bunch of normal traits or behaviors, but in combination with each other and some actually problematic aspects, form the appearance of the disorder.

So, what are you allowed to nitpick about it? Well, there’s no real ‘authority’ on this, and even if there was it certainly wouldn’t be me. But if you want my opinion? Nothing.

See, here’s the thing- what I was trying to say when I made that post was not that you can’t be critical of Karl. If you want to say something about his Actions, his Ideals, or the content he creates- sure, go for it, that’s fair. I will agree that there are some very valid and constructive points to be made. But when you post ‘criticism’ about the way he speaks, his interests or preoccupations, his personal behaviors? That’s not criticism. That’s just judging someone.

And you’re allowed to think that stuff! Nobody can control what annoys or bothers them. It doesn’t necessarily make you a bad person. But you don’t need to be vocal about it. You can keep your mean thoughts to yourself. And if you do make posts or communities or whatever about judging someone for things they can’t change about themselves, don’t call it “criticism” or try to morally justify it. It’s not productive or righteous, it’s just rude. Nothing else.

Anyway. Back to Education!

The following will be a descriptive list of visible ADHD behaviors, using Karl’s behavior as examples.

I feel the need to add a disclaimer here- I am not a mental health professional. However! I have ADHD myself, I have taken some psychology courses and done a Lot of research into this stuff, and I’m the daughter of a therapist with access to a DSM. While I’m not an expert, I’d like to think I’m fairly well versed and knowledgeable on at least ADHD. (That being said, if by chance anyone who Is a professional sees this post and notices mistakes, by all means let me know and I’ll fix it!!)

WHAT IS ADHD?

You’re here for the behaviors more than the science, so I’ll keep this short and sweet. ADHD is Attention Deficit Hyperactivity Disorder (Known in the past as Attention Deficit Disorder). Despite its name, the root problem of ADHD is not in the person’s ability to pay attention, but their brain’s capability to manage itself. In simple terms, people with ADHD have a lot less control over what their brain does and wants. This results in some behavioral differences along with some personal challenges, namely a difficulty with attentiveness and self-discipline.

Now, onto the symptoms!

ATTENTION

This is perhaps the most visible and pervasive of the ADHD symptoms, hence why it’s the namesake. Inattention is a lack of focus and an inability to stay present and occupied with certain tasks or thoughts.

Because ADHD impairs self-management of the brain, people with it have an extremely hard time directing themselves anywhere but where their brain instinctively wants to go. This results in inattentiveness and the easiness of distraction that is often mocked or stereotyped for people with ADHD.

Here are some examples of how Karl can sometimes display his inattentiveness;

When he has an idea that he seems passionate about, only to drop it or switch to something totally different without warning soon after (either forgetting or getting bored of his original idea).

When he sets out to do something like a build, works on it for a short amount of time, and then immediately gives up or gets someone else to do it.

When someone else is talking and he totally zones out. (NOTE: While I wont make a whole section for it because it’s not easily observable, maladaptive (constant and intrusive) daydreaming is a common ADHD symptom as well!)

It’s important to remember that the whole problem with ADHD is that we can’t control when or what we focus on. When someone with ADHD zones out during a conversation or activity, it doesn’t mean they’re doing it on purpose, and they likely don’t mean any offense! We often are trying our best to listen or participate, but our brain just wont cooperate.

However, inattention is not the only way ADHD effects our focus. There’s also what’s called hyperfocus or hyperfixation, which is when we are so absorbed into a single subject, task, or idea that it is extremely difficult to get us to think about or do anything else. This is usually because our brains have found something that is getting those satisfaction chemicals flowing, and it’s clinging to that with everything it’s got.

People with ADHD will often experience brief periods of hyperfocus. Think of how Karl talks about spending hours straight working on a build or project without eating or drinking, or how he’ll sit down to play a game with someone and end up going six hours without even noticing.

There are also hyperfixations, where someone with ADHD becomes extremely preoccupied with a certain subject, topic, etc. for a period of time. These can be short term- personally, my hyperfixation can sometimes change as quickly as a couple weeks at a time. However, it can also be long term. Karl has been obsessed with Survivor since the second grade- not to mention his memorabilia, rambling, and constant references to Kingdom Hearts.

HYPERACTIVITY/STIMMING

This is a BIG one for Karl. I should clarify; ‘stimming’ is not a technical term, and in professional situations these behaviors are just referred to as Hyperactivity. However, I personally like the term stimming much more and find it far more accurate to what the behaviors actually are, so I’ll be using that instead for this post.

If you’re not already familiar, ‘stimming’ (derived from ‘stimulation’) is an unofficial term used to describe consistent and abnormal patterns of physical and vocal behavior typically expressed by people with ADHD and ASD (Autism Spectrum Disorder). This includes things that people usually call fidgets or tics.

(NOTE: There are differences in how people with those two disorders stim. This post will explain stimming specifically from an ADHD perspective! ASD stimming is caused by very different factors and presents itself in much different ways. Do your own research if you’re curious!)

There are two major observable forms of stimming- physical and vocal. Karl expresses both VERY often! I’ll use examples for each type;

Physical Stims: Flapping his hands/arms, jumping up and down when he’s excited, twisting around into odd positions in his chair, throwing, hitting, or tapping things, standing up and pacing around when he’s hyped up or laughing, twisting his rings, etc.

Vocal Stims: When he gets excited and repeats a certain phrase incessantly (Think any variation of “I’m popping off”), making certain repetitive noises while he’s focused on something or bored (”la la la”, the meow-noises, the weird heart-beat noise, etc.), singing or humming, tongue clicking.

It should be noted here that it’s pretty common for people with ADHD to get “stuck” on certain phrases or noises, and be unable to stop repeating them (reminiscent of echolalia, a symptom of ASD, but not the same thing). Think of how Karl might sometimes keep making a weird noise for an extended period of time even though it’s not that funny, or that one time he was physically struggling to keep himself from singing the Bakugan theme. These repetitions are completely impulsive and trust me, we usually know how annoying it is while we’re doing it, but we physically cannot stop.

ADHD stims are caused by the fact that the barrier between our brain and body is much weaker than a normal person’s. Because of this, most ADHD stims are actually very positive expressions of joy, excitement, or enthusiasm! Y’know how when you get excited, you feel like you wanna jump or dance? The ‘hyperactivity’ of ADHD is basically just that, but we don’t have the self-control to Not do it.

Stims can be caused by negative feelings like overstimulation, but in ADHD this is not nearly as common. Usually, the most negative reason we’ll stim is when we’re bored- in that case, our brain isn’t getting the Constant Stimulation that it naturally wants, so stimming is a way to make our own.

Whatever the cause, stimming is natural and impulsive. While different people experience it to varying degrees, those who regularly stim typically have little to no control over it. Suppressing stims is very hard and very frustrating to do.

Besides that, like I said- ADHD stims are often an expression of joy, excitement, or enthusiasm. They’re a beautiful thing that shouldn’t be seen as shameful or annoying!

BEHAVIORAL DIFFICULTIES

ADHD is a disorder which causes a lack of self-control. Naturally, this means that people with ADHD are inherently reckless, impulsive, and struggle with a lack of self-discipline that they cannot fix.

Of course, people with ADHD do still have some level of self-control, and they are still responsible for conscious, long-term behavioral patterns and decisions. However, in regards to most things, they are much, much less capable of controlling themselves than an average neurotypical person is.

These are some examples of how this will often present itself in Karl;

Excessive rambling, dragging on a joke or conversation when it could and should probably have been dropped, etc.

Speaking over or interrupting other people (NOTE: As someone with ADHD- THIS IS ALMOST ALWAYS UNINTENTIONAL. I know it can seem rude or annoying but I promise, 90% of the time if someone with ADHD talks over you, they either didn’t realize or physically couldn’t help it. Please try to be patient!)

Lack of awareness towards social cues (NOTE: Unlike ASD, in which the person is incapable of/has problems fully understanding social cues, ADHD results in a lack of awareness. For whatever reason, we’re often just not paying close enough attention to pick up on things like body language, tone of speech, and facial expression as well as we would normally.)

Indecisiveness and overthinking

Bluntness, lack of subtlety

Unintentional dismissiveness, accidentally ignoring things/people (NOTE: Again, this behavior is purely accidental. In this case, it’s usually just the person genuinely not hearing or processing things.)

Making noises, speaking, joking, etc. at inappropriate times

There’s probably more, but I think you get the idea by now. A lot of the time, behavior which results from ADHD can be seen as rude, lazy, dismissive, or otherwise intentionally harmful. In reality, we just aren’t wired to navigate common social interaction with grace.

In Karl’s case, he’s clearly an incredibly sweet, empathetic, and kind-hearted person, if the various close friends who have talked about him are to be believed. Just because he talks over people or makes a poorly timed joke, that doesn’t mean he meant any harm.

I think that’s about it for how much I wanted to point out! You can do more research if you’re curious, but I feel like this post should be enough to tell you what to keep in mind and be understanding about when talking about/making judgements on Karl, and other people with ADHD.

#sorry if this is longwinded but I had a lot to say so [shrug]#karl jacobs #dsmp #dream smp #dreamwastaken #ghost.txt

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flying-elliska · 3 years

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My experiences with AVPD

I have seen some general, very useful and well researched info posts about AVPD here but very few personal testimonies (...unsurprisingly so). Since any diagnosis covers a spectrum of experiences I think that can be interesting to talk about, to show there are different ways this can impact people and that not everybody is going to fit the textbook criteria to a T - really that there is no "one valid way" that these struggles should look. I have been diagnosed recently, earlier this year, but it was immediately very obvious to me how this had impacted my life deeply. (I have ADHD too so this necessarily colors all of this).

Obligatory disclaimer I am not a mental health professional, etc. Usual warnings for discussions of bad mental head spaces apply.

- Contrary to stereotypes I'm not very shy, in the right social context I can be outgoing, playful, engaging, taking the lead, making jokes, I like being in a crowd, speaking in front of people, being the center of attention, etc. However, the "right social context" is something very elusive and rare - i must be sure of my place and purpose, that everybody likes me and wants me there, know what i am expected to do, that ppl sees me how i want to be seen, i need to be in the right mood and energy...honestly i can count on my hands the number of times this has happened in my life. This is super frustrating because i feel like a whole pan of my personality is locked away from me.

- In most social situations I become very stressed out, even if this is often not visible. I become closed off or I dissociate ; a part of my mind and personality disappear/blank out ; I find it very difficult to know what to say or anything at all. I can come over as very standoffish. In some cases this is so awful I just prefer to leave. In some situations I can power through and then I play the chameleon ; I adapt to other people's behavior and expectations ; I observe and analyze the dominant social norms in a group as if it were a specific subculture and I was a sociologist trying to blend in ; sometimes I create a persona to shield behind ; i can be charming for 3 minutes but I never manage to actually share/bond with people on a deeper level ; when I succeed this makes me feel safer - but in both cases, I find it difficult to be authentic around people, I'm terrified of being judged and disapproved of, being exposed as some sort of horrible person or people using it against me ; it leaves me feeling isolated, alienated, and like I don't fit in anywhere ; like I'm always wearing some sort of mask and there is nothing underneath. This gets less bad when I am around a small number of people I know and trust, but flares up in big groups and unfamiliar situations. It makes most social interactions an exhausting amount of work.

- My inner critic is on fucking steroids ; constantly popping up in my brain with some truly heinous, horrible takes about whatever I'm doing or thinking or who i am as a person. For sheer survival I've had to learn to take it less seriously, like "haha whatever you dramatic bitch" but fucking hell, it's still there, and it's so insidious sometimes, with snap judgments i don't even realize are happening but that send me in a spiral of guilt and shame for the rest of the day. It's also very clever in its cruelty, often masquerading as concern (and yeah that's a direct gift from my mom love it). It turns my developed capacities for psychological analysis against me as a weapon. It's sad bc it's absolutely a very dysfunctional coping/protection mechanism. So nobody can tell me anything more awful than what I already tell myself. If I am my own worst enemy, I am less scared of others wanting to hurt me.

- This is very linked to my perfectionism and wanting to avoid hurt ; I have this deeply rooted unconscious belief that there is something wrong with me and that I need to change who I am as a person so i can be worthy of love/respect. I go through these cycles of having bouts of perfectionist energy where I make plans (very insane and unrealistic) to drastically overhaul my life, try for a few days, predictably fail, and give up, ending up in a swamp of powerless lethargy and feelings of uselessness that drag on for weeks where I am convinced I will always be an utter failure and trying anything is pointless ; then rinse and repeat. I've been on this hamster wheel ever since I was like, 13, which is when I remember making my first "life change program". Which is honestly really fucking sad. I have gotten a little bit more understanding and flexible with myself (my ADHD diagnosis has helped a lot with the idea that there are things that are just not humanly possible to do) but it's still hard to stop these swings from insane, morally weighed pressure to complete despondency. The added complication from ADHD is that because of problems with executive function, perfectionism is often how I try to motivate myself. This does not work very well or at all, but it's like a drug that is very difficult to let go of.

- This all has a lot of very real consequences on my life. I procrastinate enormously - this is already an ADHD problem but this makes the "emotional wall" a lot worse. I find it very hard to finish any project because that would mean exposing myself to judgment and criticism. I have literally started jobs/internships where I put an insane amount of pressure on myself to be perfect, became super nervous and therefore performing less well, had a breakdown at the first little mistake and ended up quitting because I felt too ashamed. Which is like. So fucking stupid in hindsight like the number of opportunities I have wasted in hindsight have me frothing at the mouth. So my academic/professional/financial prospects have taken a big hit from this. I am a huge nerd, I love studying and learning and understanding things for the sheer pleasure of it but - this is also why I am still not done with my masters - I regularly get panic attacks during studying where my brain starts basically eating itself up about not knowing everything and therefore being stupid (bitch what!) to the point where I can't even think anymore ; I am also terrified of expressing my own opinion outside of anonymous internet spaces or circles of trusted friends ; because what if I get it horribly wrong and get outed as stupid/awful/sloppy/lazy etc. All in all, the more important something is for me, the less likely I am to engage in it constructively without sabotaging myself, which makes making my life into something I can love very difficult.

- All of this makes it very hard to maintain any kind of relationships. I'm terrified of intimacy, of hurting people or getting hurt if I open up, of being manipulated and used, of being cruel and selfish, of being too needy, of being too cold and distant, etc. I'm bad at setting boundaries and I too often try to become exactly what I think the other person needs/wants from me, erasing my own personality or opinions in the process ; often I do this without even realizing it. I'm not that bad at making friends but I sabotage a lot of my relationships once they get past a certain level of closeness and age - a lot of my friendships have petered off around the 2 years or so mark, because at some point when I feel like my friends have seen too much of the parts of myself I am ashamed about (especially the part where I am just not getting anywhere with my life) it feels like too much, I close myself off and the thing just eventually dies off. Otherwise I just get into these very codependent, intense, fusional friendships that mirror the relationship I had with my mother, trying to be the savior and perfect confident and ending up in awful spirals or enabling dysfunctional behavior. My romantic history is just...Blegh. As a result of all the stress, negative emotions and hypervigilance (that is very linked to trauma), I often have very low energy and motivation to do the things that are important to me. I find it hard to be spontaneous, playful, affectionate ; to express my emotions at all ; I often come over as cold, remote, judgmental, even mean, when it's rarely what I intend. So like, in the end, I'm very lonely. I like to pretend I'm not because I do like my own company, I have so much to do and I'm rarely bored, but...Still.

For me AVPD is really the result of this confrontation, on one hand, between this hyperdeveloped inner critic and on the other, the avoidant/escapist coping mechanism of that 'inner wounded child' that feels perpetually powerless and persecuted. It's like a pinball, or back and forth from one state to the other, each giving rise to the next one like a perpetual motion machine. (I am learning in schema therapy that that overlaps very well with schema modes and I am actually pretty hopeful that digging into that will help me understand and evolve this dynamic into something more livable - ADHD meaning I don't think I will ever totally escape the 'boom/bust' inspiration and motivation cycles, but there should be a healthy way to go with that flow)

This all sounds really dire but it's of course not all there is to my life. I used to be much worse, but therapy already has helped me a lot with winding down the worst excesses of self hate and depression ; medication has helped me feel more emotionally stable. I know that, even if it doesn't look like it, I have a core that is pretty damn resilient and stoic (too much, maybe). I have developed a lot of compassion, self awareness, understanding of human psychology, and sense of inner humor through all of this. I do have a few very rewarding relationships in my life nowadays. I have come so far in building my sense of self independently from my family and my mother in particular, seeing through all the crap that I was raised to consider normal. I feel so much more lucid and serene these days, so much closer to being myself, and that is just everything.

And - I just fucking love life, man - it's the good side to all that sensitivity ; sometimes I look at the sunset sky or the stars or trees and I feel high on the beauty of the world. I have a lot of imagination, I love creating, learning, reading, writing - I have had to become a philosopher and a poet to survive and I don't regret it one bit. I have plenty of good days - I go for walks at sunset, I write, I study and read some interesting things, I bike around and explore new places, I meet friends for coffee, I go to the museum, I take nice pictures, I go to the thrift store, I have dinner with my housemates, I do yoga or embroidery or drawings, I bake, I pet the cat, I manage to get some work done ...I have made a religion out of living out the little things fully the last few years (stuck in a pandemic, you kind of have to) and yes my life these days feels small and slow and that is frustrating but at the same time ? I am genuinely happy sometimes. Yes, several times a day, or whenever I interact with the outer world, the bad things above flare up, but I am getting better at dealing with them. I truly am on the path of recovery and healing. These issues are a big part of my life but I cannot be reduced to them.

So, if you are dealing with these issues too (and somehow managed to read all of this lmao) I do want to say that there is hope and that no matter how horrible everything feels at times - it's never all there is. You're probably a lot stronger than you think. And - I have been to four therapy groups by now, and an almost constant is that these groups are full of overly worried sweethearts with big anxious eyes who just care too damn much and are very sensitive in a world that doesn't value that (and it's the world that is wrong about that, on the whole). Odds are you are one of them too. And yes maybe - you have ugly sides, you feel scarred and warped by trauma and loneliness and hurt and fear but - I think that is also very much at the core of human experience, you just have less control over when it shows. The exposure is painful but anyone being too nasty about it is probably afraid of their own frailty. You are so human it hurts and there is beauty and grace and knowledge in that ; even at your most pathetic, the sublime is never that far. The things that weigh you down are strengths in the making ; you just need to learn to use them properly. And you have the right not to be strong sometimes too. It will be alright.

#avpd #mental health #mental illness #recovery #avoidant personality disorder

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neurosharky · 3 years

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Autism and ADHD vs. school

I will probably tell you nothing new if I say that the "normal" school system is not neurodivergent friendly. Most of us struggle a lot with different aspects and receive no to little help.

Its especially hard if u weren't diagnosed at a young age and had no idea why everything was so hard or why people suddenly started to avoid you more and more. It does make a bit more sense once you discover that you are neurodivergent but even individuals who were diagnosed at a young age suffer a lot under this system.

School is a mix of everything we could possibly struggle with and instead of getting help to avoid those struggles, they punish us for them. You get a bad grade for not being able to concentrate, having to fidget, not making eye contact, not liking group projects or presentations, having to ask a lot of questions, not sending work in on time, forgetting something like a book or ruler at home and even simple things like having to eat or leave the classroom for a few minutes to calm down.

I remember struggling a lot in school, especially from 5th to 10th grade. My grades were pretty okay and some were even good but I do know that I struggled a lot with the social aspect and concentrating once the teacher gave us a task.

My teachers always used to say that I was just lazy and could easily have better marks if I would just try harder. They weren't realizing that I already tried my best and that this "being lazy" was actually due to me being neurodivergent and not having my needs met.

Back then I just thought I was lazy and even started to believe that there is something wrong with me. Especially since no one really wanted to be my friend or valued what I had to say in group discussions. I remember being frustrated and getting angry with people because I simply didn't understand what their problem was.

My way of solving the task was always wrong, didn't have the essential elements in it or was simply too undetailed or on another occasion then too detailed. There was never a right way to do it, no matter how hard I tried.

Realising that nothing will ever be good enough for my teachers or classmates, I started doing less and less for school. It left more time for the stuff I liked doing so it was very convenient and I didn't really worry about it until my grades started dropping and I actually had to do the 10th grade twice.

Looking back it still amazes me how everyone ignored my neurodivergent traits and just said I was lazy and rebellious. My teachers told me that I would never make it far in life and that my attitude will backfire on me.

I was assigned female at birth so people also liked to blame it on puberty or said it came with me being trans and simply not knowing my place in life. They also said it was about me just being more boyish and wanting to impress the people in my class. If I would try to remember hard enough I could probably write ten pages about what people told me as possible reasons for my behaviour and struggles.

My favorite one will probably be that they blamed it on my parents because I have a brother who is ten times worse than me and they just thought it was due to their way of raising us. My brother actually got tested for ADHD as a child / teenager and only had traits that were influenced by him being deaf on one ear.

Since I was way easier to handle than my brother and didn't show the stereotypical behaviour, they never even thought about getting me tested. Well and they didn't pay attention to me a lot but thats another story.

What I am trying to say is that I learned how to mask around them pretty early and only showed visible traits once I got into 5th grade that were then always brushed off as something else. It left me with a broken self esteem, a very questionable reputation and a lot more that I now have to battle as an adult.

Back then I thought I was the problem but today I realise that its the system and the way it treats me and other neurodivergent folks.

~ Liam

❗I posted this on my instagram account a few days ago, same @ as here❗

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symptoms-syndrome · 3 years

Text

TW for talking about OCD, mold, and intrusive thoughts. Interact however you feel like, I just want to give warning.

I'm always in a weird spot w my OCD because I'm in this strange middle ground, it feels like. I have a lot of intrusive thoughts related to cleanliness, but only very specific kinds. And I'm well aware that OCD related to cleanliness is a common stereotype, and so I'm afraid people will think I'm oversimplifying if I mention my OCD in this regard, especially because I don't think my intrusive thoughts are? Typical for OCD. Most people think of germ or disease when they think of OCD related to cleanliness, I think, but that's not super an issue for me. I'm specifically phobic of mold and mildew, any liquid coming into contact with a porous surface can push me to the verge of panic attack very quickly, especially if it's not something I can easily get inside and clean, like furniture, floorboards, pillows, etc, or a milk product I think will spoil.

I don't have obsessive hand washing, I don't even clean excessively, really, or if I do it's more related to trauma things, pre-emptively countering ADHD, or just a desire to be clean and organized than it is to any ritual/compulsion or intrusive thought. I've met a few other people with OCD who do have excessive hand washing. I feel like if I either did have a more typical presentation/fixation, or if I had a more atypical presentation/fixation, I wouldn't feel the same way. But it feels so much like my OCD is such a stereotype that people will think I'm being insensitive to people with OCD when I talk about it, even though I AM people with OCD.

Of course, I do have other intrusive thoughts about other things, and other compulsions etc that go with them. I'm not as hip on the OCD lingo so I don't know the words for things. One of my more? Fun ones I'm 99% sure are related are numbers, some numbers are good and some numbers are bad, with very little logic to what makes a number good or bad. I told some friends about it, so sometimes it can be a little fun for them to give me a number and I'll tell them if it's a good or bad number. Numbers related to 3 are the best, and related to 4 are the worst, but sometimes it's really weird and my brain will associate a number with 3 or 4 without...me really knowing what the association is. How is 7 related to 3? Who knows, only my illogical brain does.

I'm pretty okay at managing the numbers intrusive thoughts, and with others I find ways to manage them, too, if they're things that are visible and preventable. But mold/mildew in particular are the hardest to manage because there's only so much I can do, and because I can't see for sure if it's there or not.

It's overall just so weird, that I have OCD and also do things commonly associated with OCD (being extremely clean/organized) but those things aren't related to my OCD except when they are. I feel like it'd be like having PTSD but also having nightmares about like, potato chips coming to life or smth else not-trauma-related. People would and have definitely thought I just labelled myself OCD for being organized, instead of how I actually am diagnosed with OCD for reasons mostly unrelated to cleanliness/organization. This is rambly I didn't get much sleep.

#tw mold

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thescarletlibrarian · 4 years

Note

are u doing good, I love your enthusiasm and knowledge, it just feels as if alot of your comments on posts are slightly aggressive and I can’t tell if they’re coming from a place of genuine anger or not. No hate! Just checking in

Thanks for checking in and pointing that out, I forget how horrible reading people’s comments on your stuff is. And it’s very kind of you.

Mostly I just see something scrolling by, it bugs me, I go on a rant that probably reads a LOT worse than it does in my head, and then I’m done. It’s a lot of venting, and really, thank you for bringing it up, because instead of just commenting directly, I should probably go have my tantrum on my own post and just link to whatever set it off. Especially since the venting is usually old baggage or unrelated crazy that gets set off. I’ve always used Tumblr as a dumping ground to take out frustration on something--it started as bitching about red carpet clothes, so it was the most frivolous, unimportant thing, but I could get a good bitch going about it and then go deal with the Real Shit that built up the bitchiness when I felt better. (Or not deal with it. But that was the idea, anyway.)

Some of the “state of academia” type responses are genuine anger at an increasingly screwed-up situation that dominates my life and career...plans? We’ll call them plans, like anything is an actual “plan” right now. And a lot of that shit is Behind the Curtain of academia that most people never see. I know what I knew and thought I knew before getting back here and seeing it, I know what non-academic friends and family think it is, and I’m kind of yanking on the curtain trying to make some of it more visible--especially because I keep seeing articles on “this is what’s going on in higher ed and how it should be fixed” and “this is how grad school is happening now and why that’s [any adjective you want]” circulating The Internet, and it’s like, bitch, please. You’re not from around here, go opine at somebody else.

The 17th c. vs. medieval one I tapped out on my phone in righteous indignation and hit post without ever rereading it, and I let the full run-on sentence ADHD brain just GOOOOOOOO, which comes out looking insane and worked up and probably jumping around screaming or something, or just straight-up manic. It IS a bit manic, I’m just trying to spew the manic somewhere it’s okay to make/be a mess.

THAT being said, that one triggered the manic because there’s been so much “medieval” factoid and “things you didn’t know” and shit floating around what with the coronamolecule, much of it shitty misinformation directly or indirectly supporting stereotypes of medieval Europe that are straight up wrong, and it’s one of those personal DON”T GET ME STARTEDs that all the bad shit about the middle ages people focus on really does come from the goddamn 17th c., aka The Worst Century Ever. Studying/teaching medieval stuff (is weird, I know, it’s fine, it’s my weird and I’m okay with it) you get some weird responses and assumptions from people. Who often try to modernsplain things to you historians chucked out forty years ago and are thinking about very differently now, that you know about in detail because this is your life and you’ve published on this shit. God, is that annoying, and all the stuff going around with plague and some of The Old Guard fandom ends up seeming like the entire damn internet is doing it. And obviously this shit is important to me, I think it’s important to try and understand as much as we can about historical events and people and stuff because it defines the context of...everything, while keeping in mind that any understanding is an interpretation of what we see, a model, not The Past itself. Really, really important. Some people flip their shit over representations of the US Civil War, I flip my shit about people assuming the 14th c. Black Death was The One True Plague, for one thing, or that there’s been some intellectual war between Faith and Science for Time Immemorial when...no? I’m not exactly sure when somebody came up with that one, I’m guessing 19th c. because a) 19th c ruins everything and b) that’s when the exceptionalization and cultifying of “science” as a Superior Form of Knowledge got rolling and the modern definitions of “science” gelled. That narrative is part of the context of how contemporary people see the world, think about it, and act in it. Yeah, it might seem like a big jump from “Age of Reason my ass” to refusing to wear masks or “believe in” vaccines and so on as political statements. It is a big jump, because there’s a whole hell of a lot of little jumps in between. But that’s why history--not only “what happened” but how “what happened” is represented, interpreted, and respond to--is relevant to everything. And that idea is also really important to me, and I consider it one of my main jobs as a teacher to try and get that across and help students see and contextualize their world differently--even just a little bit without really thinking about it. Which is why I think/talk about it a LOT.

TL;DR--thank you for being concerned, I really am losing my shit about things in a way that suggests something needs to be addressed. I’m stressed out AF right now (more than usual...), some of that I can’t do anything about, but if the internet is setting me off like this, we probably need to take a break and see other people for a while. I’m a bit too off-kilter for my liking, but I’m not falling over yet, though--again, it is very, very perceptive and kind of you to notice and check in on a stranger. Please give yourself a gold star for today.

Seriously, though, fuck the 17th c.

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dancedance-resolution · 3 years

Text

please do not reblog, this is just a personal little note

i’m really happy with how therapy went today

it was my fourth session with my new therapist. i think i like her a lot.

conversations with my new therapist feel a lot more natural than with the old one.

with her, i don’t feel the same sort of pressure that i did with my last therapist. my last therapist gave me extremely rigidly professional vibes. and this new therapist is still appropriately professional of course, but she’s also more casual. she always opens every session with a funny anecdote about her kids, and then sort of uses that as a segue to get me to share something similar, and then based on what i share, she asks a lot of questions that lead us to dive deeper.

conversely, my old therapist always followed a strict script. she first asked me to rate my mood on a scale of 1 to 10 (which i hated doing, because i never knew what my mood actually was other than “vaguely in the middle i suspect question mark”) (thank you alexythemia, lol). then she always asked “is there anything you want to talk about today.” and i would always shake my head no, because the question is too broad to know how to respond. and that’s something my mom and i actually worked on together - starting around age 17, before each session, we’d written down stuff i should mention. but i was rarely able to say the stuff i had prepared, because i couldn’t get myself to say the words (autism symptom maybe? idk). it’s a lot easier for me to talk when i have a narrow, specific question to answer, and if the other person has been talking for a bit before they expect me to talk. and my new therapist does both of these things

and i like that this new therapist is a bit similar to me. she’s fat. she doesn’t wear make up. she was raised catholic. oh, and she has visible tattoos - which i don’t have, but my point here is that she’s not the stereotypical picture of Health Professional. and she knows a lot more about adhd than my old therapist did, and she knows slightly more about autism than my old therapist did (which was Absolutely Nothing, lol).

also, i think that this change in therapists was necessary. i was with my old therapist for 5 years. i started seeing her when i was 14. she had a very specific perception of me based on how i was when she first met me at 14 - a perception which tainted the way she responded to my current problems. and that wasn’t a good thing for me, because my outlook on life and self-understanding have changed a lot since i was 14, in ways that i never was able to articulate to her properly. plus, i was always anxious to reveal anything new to her. like i was afraid she’d get upset if one day i was like, “hey bestie, i know i’ve been seeing you for 5 years already, but i’m just now going to bring up the fact that i’ve had issues with compulsively lying to my father since age 7 uwu.” (i know it’s irrational to fear “failing therapy”, but also, it’s not as irrational as it sounds. because when i was 18, my mom revealed to the therapist that i’ve always been the type of person to cry at the tip of a hat, and my therapist seemed kind of taken aback and frustrated that i never told that to her. and yeah, it is understandable that that would frustrate her, but it unintentionally made me feel really guilty and bad.)

also, this therapist definitely treats me like an adult more than the other one did. i think maybe my old therapist was still stuck on seeing me as that initial terrified 14-year-old. whereas this therapist gives me a lot more agency and has more trust in me to know myself and my needs. our sessions do follow somewhat of a routine, but it’s a routine we worked out together over the course of the first 3 sessions when she was trying to figure out how to make things comfortable for me. (example - at the first session, she asked me what i want out of therapy, and i said, “i don’t know.” she took me at my word, and she didn’t shame me for it. and i think that that experience sorta taught her that she needs to be more specific when asking me questions.)

i also like she’s very open with me about her perception of me. like, today, i told her about how i started crying when a staff member from my community college called me to confirm that i’d cancelled my classes for this summer semester. and my therapist expressed some surprise that i cried because [paraphrasing] “you always seem very put together and articulate during our sessions. sometimes i’m able to hear anxiety in your tone of voice about certain topics, but for the most part, you always seem very emotionally grounded during our sessions.” and her honesty gave us an opportunity to talk about masking. (also, i appreciate knowing that she can hear anxiety in my voice, because i had no idea that was a thing?? like i know you can hear when someone’s voice gets high-pitched and breaks like they’re gonna cry, but i‘ve never done that during one of our sessions? lol, so i guess this is a little fun fact i’ve learned about neurotypicals, that they can detect anxiety in ppl’s voices even if they’re not obviously on the brink of tears lol.)

a few specific things that happened at today’s session that were good:

when i talked about my sleep issues, she actually brought the conversation in a direction i hadn’t expected - she started asking if i’m putting too much pressure on myself regarding productivity. my initial answer was no - i unenrolled from my summer classes. i don’t have a part time job. i don’t have any traditional responsibilities. but upon discussing it, we kinda figured out that i am putting a lot of pressure on myself to enjoy the summer, because i have this sort of doomsday mindset of This Is My Last Summer Break Before I Have To Work Full-Time So I Must Take Advantage Of Every Moment To Enjoy Myself. and that’s unreasonable - it’s a pandemic, i’m recovering from bad burn out, and i’m trying to adjust to new meds. she actually said a lot of things about bodily consent and stuff that i’d already read in the book laziness does not exist, so it was sort of like affirmation and emphasis that those concepts are good, valid, and applicable to me.

she gave me some reassurance regarding my summer schedule. my alarm goes off at 6:20 every weekday morning so i can attend mass. (i’m an atheist, but the structure is very good for me.) but i’ve had some concerns that maybe waking up so early is unhealthy and also contributing to my sleep issues (i unintentionally wake up around 4 almost every morning, and i started to wonder if maybe that’s because my internal clock is anticipating waking up at 6:20). we discussed the pros and cons of waking up for mass in the morning, and she gave me her opinion that this schedule is probably good for me (she agreed with my pro/con assessment). and she also pointed out that i woke up at 6 every morning throughout high school without as much sleep issues, so it’s more likely that the sleep issues are from anxiety. (and i’m going on anxiety meds starting in early july, so we’re hopeful that that will help that a bit.) so yeah, i feel better about my mass schedule, and i feel reassurance that this is a reasonable and good plan. she also said that she was very proud that i had not only the idea to use morning mass as a source of structure but also the discipline to go every morning despite the early hour and despite the fact that i have no external force forcing me to go 🥺 which was nice to hear, because over years of having undiagnosed adhd, i received a lot of messaging that i lack self-discipline, so i was glad to hear the validation that she thinks i’m a disciplined person (at least regarding mass, lol)

we talked about my summer goals, and we talked about possible sources of non-stressful accountability. the current flexible plan is that i’ll keep track of everything i accomplish from that goal list and then share it with her at the end of each session so we can workshop what went well, why it went well, what i’m struggling with, and how i could maybe work through those things better.

i still feel very anxious about this whole therapy thing (i’m still very scared that i’m doing it wrong and not saying the right things), but i felt especially good after today’s session. like, i’ve been in therapy for 5 years. i felt like i plateaued in progress a while ago, so i’m really happy that i managed to get something out of today’s session!!!!! that hasn’t happened in so so long (low key if ever…..).

also. IM PROUD OF MYSELF for sharing stuff with her, correcting her when she misinterpreted one thing i said, and having a positive attitude about how today went 😎. and i’m proud of myself for fending off feelings of guilt that i spent so long typing this out (it’s not wasted time, because it’s helping me process what happened today), and i’m proud that i’m in a place where i’m open to going on anxiety meds.

my life is still a mess. i had a fun little breakdown not even an hour before the therapy session, in fact! but i’ve made some significant progress over these few months - i started meds, i switched therapists, and i started (and am sticking to) a new daily routine. and i had the courage to prioritize my health and cancel my summer semester classes, which was a really hard decision for me! oh, and i also finally published that smutty crucible fic that’s been in my wip folder for over a year!

my mental health is still extremely poor, lol. in fact, one could argue that i’ve regressed in many ways. but guess what bitch!! i don’t have skooter ankle ideation, and also, generally? IM MAKING PROGRESS. that’s what counts. i’m very happy about that, and i’m very proud of myself for that.

#personal #long post #very long post

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itsteaveetime · 7 years

Text

//And here’s fic #2: general post-factory Mike/Veruca.//

He likes girls. That’s not the problem.

Well, it is a little bit of a problem, but an extremely embarrassing audio book his mom got him, that includes chapters such as ‘Why Am I Sweaty?’, and a general internet inquiry has assured him it’s a normal sort of problem. That even though Ethel said ‘breast’ the other night, entirely in the context of chicken, and as a result, he has felt like he might die for almost two days now, he probably won’t. At least: not of that.

What’s probably not normal is a Russian oligarch on his knees in a front hallway in Normalton, Idaho with his checkbook clasped pleadingly in both hands.

“Pleasssssssssse Mrs. Television,” Oleg Salt begs, despite the fact that they have both told him several times that their last name is not ‘Television’. “You must make him be reasonable.”

Ethel barks out a laugh, because there is no making Mike do anything. There is especially no making Mike do this.

“I will pay you whatever you wish,” Mr. Salt continues. “You do not know what she is like.”

Mike thinks he might have a pretty good idea, and also: the man is not helping himself out saying stuff like that.

“It is all she asks for,” Mr. Salt confides. “And such a little thing-...”

Mike bristles, the corners of his mouth turning down into a frown.

“...a small request!” Oleg clarifies hurriedly. “One tiny little dinner with my Veruska. That is all! What do you say?”

The man’s eyes dart desperately from Mike to his mother. So Veruca Salt hasn’t changed much since the Wonka tour. Mike, in his opinion, hasn’t changed much either.

Well. He is shorter.

But no longer small enough to be picked up against his will and shoved in a purse, so what does he care? He doesn’t. There’s no such thing as height on the internet.

But a boy cannot live on internet alone, no matter how he tries.

And it’s been a couple years now, since Wonka’s, and you’d think (at least, Mike would have thought) that the media would have forgotten about them by now. You know: the losers. Because that’s what they are: Gloop. Teavee. Beauregarde. Salt. Golden ticket losers.

And yet the paparazzi still insist on photographing him every time he leaves the house (even as infrequent as that is). On detailing just how short he remains. On judging his fashion choices (which are lit, shut up). On speculating.

They aren’t interested in interviewing him (and he wouldn’t let them anyway), all they want to do is snap, snap, snap his picture.

Not a lot happens in Idaho, okay? He’s not sure if it’s the same for the rest of them. He’s been ignoring them as hard as he possibly can.

But it’s no mystery, at least, how Salt knows he’s still out there, not dead or anything.

“You’ll pay anything?” Mike asks.

Ethel shoots him a look.

“Michael,” she chastises. But he can see her eyeing Mr. Salt’s checkbook too. They aren’t poor, but a teacher’s salary doesn’t go as far as it could, and Mike has expensive taste in electronics and sneakers.

They settle, eventually, on Mr. Salt making a donation to the school where Ethel teaches that will keep her and her colleagues in school supplies for at least a few years, and a ‘college fund’ for Mike, which is dumb, because he isn’t going to college, but at least when he turns eighteen he can do whatever he wants with it.

All that, just for going on a date with a girl. Mike should (Mike thinks) go on dates with girls more often.

Of course, Mike has never actually been on a date before. Mike has never had dinner with a girl who wasn’t his mother. Mike has never been alone in a room with a girl who wasn’t his mother.

He reflects on this as he rides in Salt’s ridiculously large limousine, and then after that in the man’s private jet. Mr. Salt does not try to force conversation with them, which Mike appreciates. The man conducts business on his phone. Mike does the same on his iPad, although his business consists mainly of owning someone on reddit and playing Candy Crush. Ethel pops a Valium and has a cocktail and is out like a light. It’s pretty blissful. Plus, Oleg Salt is rich enough that they don’t have to deal with visas or whatever, and (considering some of the stuff Mike has done) that might otherwise have been an issue.

It still takes about a day to get to Russia, and Mike does briefly entertain the idea that they are being kidnapped, but whatever. It’s not like they had anything better to do.

The Salt estate is impressive. And Mike is not a boy easily impressed. He and his mother are shown to guest rooms that are probably bigger than their entire house, and Ethel tries to convince him to change into a nice button down shirt, or ‘smart’ sweater, and fails. He shows up at the dining room in his usual baggy joggers, converse sneakers, snap back cap, and hoodie. And then it’s just him and Veruca.

The dinning table is huge, but only the very end of it has been set. The lighting is dim, but Mike can see that she is already seated at the head of the table. It feels like it takes forever, but eventually he is seated next to her, in front of way more forks than he knows what to do with.

And he has no idea what to say.

He has never not known what to say before. Words have always just come out of his mouth without having to think about them (much to a lot of people’s chagrin). This is different, for some reason.

Veruca Salt is...pretty.

And Mike Teavee is not prepared.

He had known, even at twelve, that she was. Blond hair, blue eyes, pink dress: all stereotypically and obviously pretty. At twelve, he hadn’t cared about that.

She isn’t dressed like a ballerina now.

Her blond hair is a little shorter and straighter, but still the same bright tone. Her clothes are simple, but obviously expensive: a white turtleneck sweater in some sort of furry material, and designer jeans. She’s more or less the same shape, and a little bit taller, but it’s her face, mostly, that makes his mind go blank. It’s less childish. He wonders, suddenly, if his own is. He feels like she looks older than he does. Next to her, he feels like a kid.

“Hey,” he says, lamely.

“I am so pleased,” she purrs, her long dark lashes fluttering, “that you have decided to join me, Michael.”

Something flutters in his stomach, and then his chest, and then definitely tries to escape out of his throat. He in no way recalls eating any insects or anything.

“Uh,” he replies, brilliantly.

She smirks behind her water glass.

“We have much in common, you and I,” she tells him.

“Oh,” he says. “Yeah?”

Because he’s not sure what, exactly, they have in common at all. Ballet, for instance, is super lame. And he’s not sure how she feels about squirrels now, but he’s definitely never liked anything small and furry. Or big and furry, for that matter.

On the flip side, Russian social media is like years behind America’s, and he doesn’t get the impression she games or is interested in computers at all.

“But there will be time to discuss after we eat,” she says.

Mike does not have an adventurous palate, and an impressive selection of mostly unidentifiable food-stuffs is placed in front of him, and Veruca selects a single fork out of the twenty they each have to choose from, and he grasps desperately for something, anything familiar.

“Do you have ketchup?” He asks.

She looks at him like he might be crazy.

“Do you ask me,” she asks, “if we have ketchup in Russia, or if there is ketchup now?”

He stares down at his plate, and no, he doesn’t know if anything on it is supposed to be eaten with ketchup, but he likes ketchup.

“...know you have ketchup in Russia,” he mumbles.

This date is a disaster.

She rings for someone, and a bottle of Russian ketchup is placed in front of him, and he still doesn’t know where to start with the cutlery, or how to turn this around. She stares at him expectantly.

“I...” he says.

“Yes?” She prompts.

“Uh,” he grunts.

“...,” she responds.

“I’veneverbeenonadatebeforeandIdunnowhatyouwantmetodo, okay?!?!?” He blurts.

She bursts out laughing. Her hand flies to her chest. Her eyes are squeezed shut and tearing up with mirth. She practically falls out of her chair.

“You think this is date?” She manages to gasp.

“Uh. Isn’t it?” He asks, numbly.

She laughs even harder, and he feels like he might be shrinking all over again,

“Your...you dad said...,” he mumbles.

“Oh, my papa,” she giggles, wiping her eyes delicately with her finger. “What has he done?”

Mike says nothing. Mike stares down at what is probably the most expensive plate of food that has ever been put in front of him. She snaps her fingers in front of his nose.

“Michael Television...,” she says.

“Not my na-ame,” he moans.

“This is business meeting. I have business proposal for you.”

He looks up, because as much as he wants to die (no chicken involved) that’s...interesting.

“Mr. Wonka,” she says. “He has done the both of us...wrong.”

She adjusts the neck of her sweater, and he remembers suddenly: she was ripped apart. If no one’s ever the same after they’ve been on television, they definitely aren’t after they’ve been ripped apart and put back together. It hasn’t been an easy couple of years for him: he’s still physically stunted. It probably hasn’t been easy for her, either. Her scars are probably a lot more visible.

“So what’re you saying?” He asks. She has his complete attention, and with his ADHD, that’s saying something.

“I want to make him...how do you say...regret this,” she says.

“Like: revenge,” he asks, dubiously. Because as tempting as that sounds, even he knows that’s not a great idea. Who knows what that nut job would do to them?

“No-no,” she insists, waving the idea off. “Well...not like that. But our own revenge. I wish to do something to make Mr. Wonka see that he is wrong about us. That we are not bad.”

Mike looks down at his hands, because he’s not entirely sure he isn’t bad, but still: the idea is quickly growing on him.

“You are smart,” she says. And then, raising an eyebrow: “At least: I think you are.”

“I am smart,” he says, simply and confidently, because this is something he at least knows about himself without question.

“Good,” she tells him. “This is what I need.”

It’s a lot easier to talk to her, after that, when he knows where he stands. They brainstorm for hours, their heads bent close together, their words quick and excited, and this...

He hasn’t felt like this in a long time. It’s good.

They have a plan by the end of the evening. They’re going to do something: something amazing. Something so amazing that even Wonka won’t be able to call them bad, or losers: not anymore. He can see it all in his head, and she has the money, and the social skills, and the ambition to make it real.

“You are smart,” she says, as he is leaving.

“Told you,” he says, with a smirk and shrug.

She catches his hand in hers.

“You are also cute,” she whispers.

He floats back to America because they’re really going to do something and she thinks he’s cute.

#charlie and the chocolate factory #catcf broadway #mike teavee #veruca salt #if sufficiently confused I will write multiple fics

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birdiethebibliophile · 7 years

Text

{fic} Sight Unseen

Rating: G (no warnings) Relationship: Lucien/Cassian Word Count: 1,828

Tagging @squaddreamcourt. The promised Lussian fluff.

Also tagging @filippaeilharts and @hazelestelle because y’all encouraged me with my Lussian WIPs, like, MONTHS ago and here is one FINALLY.

Here on AO3.

Summary:

Based on @yalenayardeen‘s Cutthroat Fanfiction: ACOTAR Edition Generator! (Yes, I’m still using it.) Prompt was:

CHARACTERS: cassian and lucien; TROPE: blind date; TWIST: you must drink 3 alcoholic beverages (or 3 cups of highly caffeinated coffee/tea if you don't drink alcohol) just before writing the fic

(note: I did not follow the twist very exactly, but alcohol, caffeine, and late nights were involved)

__________________

Lucien was nervous.

He hadn’t been on a date in years. Years. He thought maybe the last time he went on a date was that twenty-seven-year-old hipster with the goatee and the beanie. His name was – God, Lucien couldn’t even remember what his name was, but he’d been a terrible kisser.

It didn’t give him high hopes for the date tonight.

His friend Feyre had been the one to set him up. Apparently now that she was getting laid on a regular basis, she thought that was the cure to all ills. You’ll like him, I promise, she’d wheedled when setting up the date. He’s totally your type.

Gay? Lucien had replied sarcastically.

Feyre had pouted. Lucien. You’re being difficult.

Can you at least tell me what his name is? What he looks like? So I don’t have to twerk on every guy under thirty in Rita’s to figure out who my date is?

All Feyre had told him was that the man’s name was Cassian, and he was an acquaintance of Rhys’s.

Lucien was not getting his hopes up. Especially as this Cassian was now – he checked his watch – almost ten minutes late.

He was sitting at the bar, next to Elain and her SO, Amren. Elain had happily volunteered to accompany him just in case, as he had said. Though from the way the two were making out now, Lucien didn’t think they’d be much help if this Cassian turned out to be a creep.

“Lucien Kelly?”

Lucien turned on the stool, and then – looked up. And up. He blinked several times. In front of him was an exceedingly tall, exceedingly buff, exceedingly handsome man. He was the kind of fit that you didn’t get from working out – the kind of fit you got from a job where you were lifting heavy things every five minutes. He must’ve just come from that job, whatever it was, because he looked a bit disheveled: flannel shirt partly unbuttoned, hair escaping from a messy bun, crooked smile surrounded by a five o’clock shadow.

Realizing the man was still waiting for an answer, Lucien cleared his throat. “That’s me.”

The man’s smile broadened, making his eyes crinkle. “I’m Cassian,” he said. “Your date.”

“Oh. Well. Nice to meet you,” Lucien said weakly as Cassian slid onto the barstool next to him.

“Buy you a drink?” Cassian offered.

“You don’t have to –”

Cassian cut him off with an airy wave of his hand. “Nah, I owe you for being late. Sorry about that.”

“Sure,” Lucien said, hard feelings draining away.

“It’s my boss’s fault,” Cassian confided as he motioned the bartender over. “Excuse me – a Guinness and whatever my friend wants.”

“Tullamore Dew, neat,” Lucien told the bartender.

Cassian grinned. “You have good taste. Anyways, I work at a farm about an hour away, and I told Mor that I needed to get off early because I had a date, but she said, and I quote, ‘Time and tide wait for no man, Cassian, and neither do cows, so get your ass in that barn.’”

Lucien laughed. “You really milk cows for a living?”

Cassian rubbed the back of his head self-consciously. “And lift hay bales and groom horses and shit. I hope I don’t smell like work – I didn’t have time to take a shower before coming over here.”

Lucien leaned in slightly, inhaling. “You do, but not unpleasantly,” he decided, unwilling to tell Cassian as yet that Lucien found the other man’s scent of hay and manure and sweat to be kind of… attractive.

“Well, I’m glad you don’t mind.” Cassian’s eyes swept down Lucien’s form. “I thought maybe –” He broke off, flushing. “Um, what I mean to say is that you look very nice.”

“You thought that I might be a stuck-up rich pretty boy?” Lucien supplied bluntly. “I know I look it. And smell it,” he added, thinking back to the touch of cologne he put on before heading out the door. He regretted it now; he didn’t want anything to obscure Cassian’s natural scent.

Cassian grinned sheepishly. “Maybe. Anyways, what do you do for a living?” He grabbed the glass of beer the bartender slid over to him and took a sip.

“I work in human resources,” Lucien said with a sigh. “Not nearly as interesting. It’s a lot of filing papers and answering angry phone calls.”

“Wait – like, you’re a secretary?”

Lucien scowled. “Okay, yeah, I’m a secretary.”

Cassian grinned. “Nothing wrong with that. I just can’t see you fitting in at an office, with the eye and the hair and everything.” He reached out and wound a strand of Lucien’s hair around one finger, rubbing it between the finger and his thumb. “Do you like it?”

“Eh.” Lucien shrugged. “I’m pretty good at it. My boss can be a bitch sometimes, but he’s a pretty good guy, and it pays well.”

“So you’re not stuck-up, and you’re not rich.” Cassian grinned, tugging lightly at the strand of Lucien’s hair before letting it go. “But you are pretty.”

Lucien took a hasty sip of his whiskey to hide his growing blush. “You’re prettier than me,” he argued once he’d set his glass down again.

Cassian gave him an exaggeratedly doubtful look, so Lucien leaned over and pinched his arm lightly. “Well, there’s more of you, isn’t there?” he said with an impish smile.

Cassian burst into laughter. “You have a point there,” he admitted. “Rhys didn’t mention you were funny.”

“Oh?” Lucien said, voice casual. “What did he say about me?”

“Nothing much,” Cassian said. “He said you were a friend of Feyre’s, and that going on a date would help me, quote, get over myself.”

Lucien raised his eyebrows at Cassian over his whiskey glass.

Cassian grinned. “I’ve been teasing the bastard non-stop about him and Feyre. Serves him right. He’s been swooning all over the place. Can’t say a word to him without him bringing her up. Anyways, Rhys insisted that being single was as good as being dead, so he’s been setting me up on dates for the past month.” Cassian leaned in, as if to tell Lucien a secret. Lucien noticed that his lips were slightly chapped, in a nice sort of way. “Between you and me, you’re the first one who hasn’t made me want to run out of the room. Congratulations.” Cassian lifted his glass and touched it to Lucien’s.

Lucien’s face felt hot as Cassian sat back up and took a drink of beer. “Thanks – I think. Though I’d like to think I rate a little higher on the date scale than that.”

Cassian made a thoughtful face. “It all depends,” he said. “I have high standards, I’ll have you know.”

“And what might those be?”

“Pretty simple, really. Be a good person. Like me for my personality as well as my good looks. Oh, and you have to like cats. I have one.”

Lucien grinned back. “Well, I can’t speak to the first qualification, but you have an absolutely sparkling personality to match your impressive biceps, and I have a cat as well.”

“Two thirds of the way there, then. What’s your cat’s name?”

“His name is Pumpkin, and he’s gigantic and orange. What about yours?”

“Muffin. She’s a tiny tortoiseshell,” Cassian said fondly.

Lucien snickered. “Did you pick the most stereotypical cat name ever on purpose?”

“Maybe,” Cassian admitted. “But I say having a cat named Muffin is one of the great joys of this life, you know?”

“Sure,” Lucien said agreeably. “Along with good whiskey –” he raised his glass in demonstration “– and winning at Monopoly.”

Cassian laughed, and Lucien felt a rush of ridiculous pleasure at being the cause. “I can’t imagine you can treat yourself to the second too often on a secretary’s salary,” he started to tease, then stopped. “I think there’s someone who wants to talk to you.”

“Hmm? Oh, hi, Elain,” Lucien said in surprise, turning on his barstool.

“Hi,” she said. Judging by the breathy quality to her voice, and the presence of at least two visible bruises on her neck, she and Amren would need to get a room soon. “Do we need to kill anyone?”

Lucien exchanged a glance with Cassian, who gave him one filled with mock horror. “No, we’re good,” he told Elain.

She beamed at him. “I’m going home with Amren, then,” she said.

“Okay.”

“To have sex.”

“Okay, Elain,” Lucien said, rather more loudly than before. “Have fun.”

“We will!” Elain said in the sing-song voice she used after three drinks, as Amren tugged her towards the door.

“I am so sorry,” Lucien said, turning back to Cassian. “I wanted to make sure you weren’t, you know, an axe murderer.”

“No offense taken,” Cassian said. “That was – erm – Feyre’s sister?”

“Oh, yes.”

“I can see the resemblance,” Cassian said thoughtfully. “They’re both equally obsessed with fucking.”

Lucien snorted into his glass. “That’s one way of putting it. Feyre set me up with you because she thinks getting me laid will cure my depression.” Then he processed what he’d just said and turned crimson. “Shit. I mean – not that – God, there were so many things wrong with that sentence.”

But Cassian was laughing. “She and Rhys were made for each other. Do you really have depression?”

“Yeah,” Lucien said. “Does that freak you out?”

“Nah,” Cassian said. “I’m on meds for ADHD, so no judgment here.”

Lucien let out a silent exhale. “I bet working on that farm helps as well, huh?”

“Hell yeah,” Cassian said. “I’ve been working for Mor since I graduated high school. College was never really for me, you know?”

Lucien nodded, then grinned. “Good thing you have the body for it, huh?”

“Are you ogling me?” Cassian accused.

“Maybe,” Lucien murmured, eyes dropping to the unbuttoned V of Cassian’s shirt. “Or maybe I’m admiring your personality.”

He was rewarded for his wit with Cassian’s laugh.

He was really starting to like that laugh.

*****

Cassian checked his watch. They’d been at the bar long enough that hordes of already-drunk college kids had started to pour in. “I guess I should head out – I start work at five thirty, and plus, Muffin gets upset if I feed her any later than eleven.”

“I should go, too.” Lucien started to stand up, but was stopped by Cassian’s hand on his arm.

“I really like you, Lucien Kelly,” he said softly. “And I’d like to do this again sometime. What do you say?”

“I’d like that too,” Lucien said, and he found that he meant it.

Cassian’s sudden smile – genuine, and bright as morning sunshine – took up his whole face. “I’ll see you soon, then.” And he leaned in and pressed his chapped lips to Lucien’s cheek.

“See you,” Lucien murmured, watching Cassian make his way to the door, with a dazed expression on his face and one hand to his cheek like he could still feel Cassian’s lips.

#acotar #acotar fanfiction #acomaf #acomaf fanfiction #acowar #acowar fanfiction #lucien #lucien vanserra #cassian #lucien x cassian #lussian #lussian fanfiction #m/m #fluff #mine

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mavwren · 7 years

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Post it Forward Week Three

Okay so I planned on doing this earlier in the week, but this is one of the more tricky prompts for me (Magi) to tackle because I’ve found that people who talk a lot about ‘their mental illnesses’ can tend to be assholes, and that in my case it’s mostly about depression and neglect so it can be kind of a downer. I personally don’t like making people feel bad, so the idea of this possibly reaching a lot of people was what made me take so long to do it, but hey here it goes...

So as I think I’ve off-handily mentioned before, I suffer from ADHD inattentive and inherited psychotic depression, as well as anxiety and panic and possibly some form of learning disorder but I haven’t been tested so I’m not gonna say anything for certain. Also an abusive and over achieving younger sister. Anyway this all went undiagnosed and ignored until I was eleven, which may surprise some people (especially when I was very vocal about seeing things that weren’t there ‘cause that isn’t normal in any respect) so let me explain.

In elementary school it was very obvious that I had some kind of attention problem as I was scolded and given the exact same talk every year about how I need to try harder or I was going to become a failure and a disappointment. By both my parents, and my teachers. Yeah, the teachers said that to me. Every year. They’d pull me out into the hall during class work time or whatever and when I went back into the room I’d be in tears. And with the area I lived in I had the same classmates until I graduated highschool (except for the three years that I lived in Hawaii o’course), so they quickly made sure that no one else in our class ever saw them with me. This didn’t help. Because I now knew for sure that no one liked or believed I was worth their time. So I was forever labeled as ‘that weird quiet girl who never does her work’. Which honestly wasn’t even the worst thing, seeing as how I’m kinda a better person than most of them post highschool, which I know sounds like I’m the asshole, but anyone who graduated with me remembers the guy who got booed at graduation practice (and at the actual graduation).

No the worst thing about my time in elementary, (and my first year of middle school) was the fact that I was punished from a very visible disability. One of these days I’ll tell the story about my desk, but this post is already going to be pretty long as it is so I’ll just use the classic examples instead. Along with the annual talk about what a disappointment I was, there were also the vary obvious ‘watching you specifically because you’re a problem’ glares from across the room, taking away recess time, scolding me in front of the class for doodling during notes, banning me from drawing all together, and then making sure I wasn’t drawing by checking over my shoulder, calling me out for not handing in my homework- again directly in front of the other students, and just the general ‘not going to let you out of my sight because I don’t trust you at all’.

You’d think my parents would be a little more curious about all of that, but nope. They went and did the same thing as the teachers and brushed it off as a greedy child wanting attention, with a dash of ‘she’s just an idiot’ tossed in until halfway through 6th grade. So they went ahead and punished me too, not letting me play outside with our neighbors, putting me in places where I couldn’t see the TV and making me do my homework until dinner, and then instructing my daycare (it’s a military town so they do a before and after school program) to not let me do anything until they had checked all of my work. So now the kids there (that were from schools all over town) also knew not to play with me.

Now despite the way my mother likes to tell this story where she’s the one that notices the problem, that’s just not how it happened. I freaked out the teachers, my school counselor, and the school’s nurse in Hawaii. That’s how it happened. The counselor had me fill out a form and established that there was clearly a problem, so my mom took me to see a therapist and I was officially tested where it was established that I had ADHD inattentive, and depression. However looking back, those results were a little skewed because I didn’t know that I had seen hallucinations, thanks to my parents saying that they were just an overactive imagination. Anyway, that was the start of my treatment for my variety of issues. With the results we were able to also get testing done at Tripler, which was where I then got my medications from for my ADHD.

So fast forward 2 years and for whatever reason we stop seeing my therapist, but there’s no real drama.

Fast forward another year and well, we’re back in NC. And my highschool in Hawaii takes a whole fucking school year to fax my 504 plan to my new highschool. I had to text my friend in Hawaii to go ask the people in the office what was taking so long. I’m not even 100% sure it got there, because the school had me redo all of my testing again. I was then switched from 504 to IEP, which is basically a special ed program, but with a wider reach and honestly much more fun.

Now this is when me and my mom agree that my medications are doing more harm than good to me, and my psych guy goes ‘nah it’s supposed to do that’ and we were just like ‘nah fuck you’ and left that clinic, so went without meds or therapy until I started college. Not because there was no where else to go or we thought I was cured or something, it just didn’t seem to be very helpful anymore. Plus they assigned me to a child therapist (like a small child therapist) and I was just like ‘bitch I am not a five year old stop talking to me like I am’

So how did a mentally unstable teenager make it through highschool in one piece? By being an arts nerd. No stay with me- I was a visual art kid so I was in the visual arts homeroom (with a teacher who had no connection to art in any form but was coincidentally the lady in charge of students with disabilities and generally just a bad ass bitch) but I was also a band geek. I actually would sign up for art classes to keep my homeroom, then switch them to band classes like only a few days in. Because I hate art classes

I’ll make a post later about the actual benefits of band- and marching band in particular but it’s kinda off topic for this one

Anyway I made it through highschool, was super hyped and ready for whatever laid ahead-

then I started community college

and watched my world slowly crumble to bits around me because I couldn’t do anything. I had never felt that low. Which is really saying something. So I begged my mom to look for a new therapy place (even asked if I could have a service dog at one point and was told I was over exaggerating) and it took her two months to actually humor me. But you bet when I said one positive thing about birth control she set up an appointment for me in less than a week. Thanks stereotypes about women’s hormones. Guess what though! It wasn’t hormones.

I ended up with a social worker as my therapist, and I can say with complete certainty that there is a definite difference when it comes to the age that you receive treatment because after you turn 18 it isn’t about what your parents want, it’s what you want.

I am now receiving medication from the most qualified person in the district, attend therapy regularly and am just in such a better state of being than I was before.

My doctor often asks me if I feel happy like I used to, but because of my situation, I wasn’t ever not effected by my depression. But now, I know what it’s like to live my life without worrying about the world and the people around me like I used to. I’ve learned that it’s okay to be proud of yourself, it’s okay to be honest with people, it’s okay to care about your own life. It’s okay. I’m okay.

And I guess that’s my story about my mental health. If you have any questions for me, or whatever, our ask box is open. Yellow knows a lot about psych stuff, and her mom was the one that hooked me up with the recommendation on my current clinic. Or if you’d like just me to see it, or just want someone to talk to, I have a side/art blog that you’re free to message. ( @punkrockstrawberry )

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