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#someone without a mental disorder if only you try hard enough
selectivechaos · 7 months
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my love to the people who didn’t get up today
who didn’t face their fears today
who didn’t do the coping mechanisms
my love to the people who had breakdowns today.
my pride in the people who aren’t proud of themselves.
my love to the people who feel unworthy of love.
my love to the people who didn’t ride the wave but rather were swallowed by it, for they are still treading water even though they can’t see the shore.
you didn’t bring it on yourself. it’s just heavy. and it is not your fault. 🌹🌹
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onyourhyuck · 4 months
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LUKEWARM. L.DH | Episode 2
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— Title: ‘Something gained, something earned’
— Summary: Hong Yujin is the new patient at the psych ward admitted for her eating disorder. On the first day of being admitted she meets Haechan, a patient being treated for his bpd. Yujin already claims to hate him; he is everything she dislikes. Loud, annoying, self destructive.
— Genre: Psych ward, hospital, mental illnesses, can be triggering so read at your own risk, guys take care of yourself, mentions of eating disorders, mentions of bpd, suggestive, smut, angst etc.
— Notes: please don’t read if you’ll be triggered !! Take care of yourself guys.
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A pragmatic arrangement is the only kind of arrangement you can have with someone like Yujin. Without a routine the inpatient girl is nothing less than an unscrewed wheel, left alone in middle of a no-man’s-land.
The doctors like to analyse that this was a way of coping for the young girl. A routine makes her days predicable which she likes.
Prediction when to eat.
Revealing the gloomy ward. Today the weather was pouring down nonstop. Many patients woke up this morning to have breakfast and wear a sweater to have some warmth.
Yujin was the only one without a sweater. Without a life in those circles on her face. She never really slept when she was back at home, but now it feels like she is never going to sleep in a place like this. Lounging about the reception just like everyone else made it even harder to fit inside. Because all these crazy people have something in common together — a favourite activity. Eating.
Her mind was a complete disaster. A waste of time yet it feels hard to stop counting. Yujin sat there alone in a singular white chair in a white gown with the hair strands covering the black under bags, staring into the untouched tray of food.
If you turn to look around the reception you could see everyone eating. Yujin did that a few times and went back to staring and sitting in the chair. She couldn’t move out of the seat until breakfast was finished. The nurses monitor her at all costs in these matters.
They saw nothing from the girl. Her fingers didn’t acknowledge the forks, spoons, the jelly in the cup even. Yujin did not even accept the water bottle.
After a couple of hours Haechan was released from taking his medication. The ward was a bit too quiet until the spoken devil came out of the room a little later than everyone else.
His cheeks were flushed as he walked back into the ward, he was looking for Yujin. Instantly his head was fixated on the girl. Like an important piece you could not get enough out of. His eyes scan the room trying to locate her. As he walked in Yujin was seen in the chair looking so alone. She was minding her business and minding her food, Haechan didn’t like that. He can’t help but to be nosy.
The patient wasn’t eating at all. She was just cutting up the food with the plastic fork and knife. Haechan came over immediately noticing her staring at it with disgust almost. She pushed the tray away when she had enough of it.
When the young patient thought the day couldn’t get any worse, Haechan had to come and bother her. She looked twice as unhappy now.
“Why are you back again? Don’t you have better things to do. Like… escape this hell hole?” Yujin trails annoyed as if there wasn’t anything else to say. It’s clear she wants to get out of here.
The boy was mostly interested by her reaction to the ward food. He would like to disagree with this though. The ward food was amazing if he had to admit it’s a lot better than his mother’s cooking.
Couldn’t help but become even more nosey. Haechan set his body down on the chair in front and took her food tray without a singular thought as if this was his food. He starts to dig in happily smirking. The medication that he takes extends extreme food hunger levels. So when food reaches his stomach he’s the happiest. Especially tasty food. He gives Yujin an unamused look in response to her question.
“Do you think I’m crazy enough to escape from here? The police would arrest me and bring me back here again.” He replied and gave her a glance wondering why she would even think of escaping.
Yujin scoffs by his response. Seems like Haechan was right and he knows escaping wouldn’t really do him any good when police can easily find him. She didn’t know what to respond with except to throw a minor insult at the boy. “Well you do seem crazy enough to commit it.”
But of course when you try to insult Haechan’s inflated ego it starts to sound more like a compliment than a criticism.
Haechan’s eyes light up and he smiles brightly when she mentions his craziness. He leans back on the bed and stretches out. He crosses one leg over the other and then rests one arm behind his head. He lets out a chuckle while showing of a relaxing posture.
“Oh come on, you seem to underestimate me. I’ve committed far worse things than escape. I’m not that naive.” Haechan taunted and teased her in a slightly playful way to get a reaction out of her. He knows how annoying it must be when someone turns an insult into a joke.
“Oh yeah? You want a medal or something?” Yujin said in a low monotone tone of voice that proved she is uninterested and full of sarcasm leaking out of that empty hollow mouth.
It boil’s her blood when Haechan seems so unbothered. As if he has zero fucking worries in that small head of his.
He doesn’t seem to be affected by her sarcasm. In fact, he seems to enjoy her sarcasm. He grins at her response and then gives her a small wink. “Oh yes a medal sounds nice, I will gladly accept it.” Haechan jokingly remarks back amused completely by the fact that a medal was there to congratulate him in the question. He gets closer to Yujin and looks down at her while still seated on his bed. He whispers to her “You’re not as tough as you think you are.”
“Back off will you?” She trails and puts some space between them with the chairs creating a space between the both patients. God he really doesn’t understand privacy nor space. “What are you in here for? Stalking?” Yujin throws a little mockingly but it was a genuine question too.
Enjoying the playing hard to get. Haechan has always been attracted to push and pull games. In fact he really much loves putting people in uncomfortable situations. He loves to lie for fun — he loves to confuse people and see a slight fear and disbelief in their eyes. Or discomfort on the eyebrows.
As he whispers in Yujin’s ear he puts his hand on her knee to make her more agitated. He leans in closer and whispers to her. He grins at her teasingly and looks Yujin up and down. He responds to her in such a childish question by saying. “Bingo!” Haechan lets out a playful laugh and pats Yujin’s knee.
Her fingers push off his hand as if he were a mere instinct to be squished between the sole of her shoes. “You can’t be serious?”
Haechan’s eyes widen as Yujin shoved his hand away. He chuckles at her reaction, clearly he likes getting a rise out of her. “I refuse to share my secrets. You have to earn that privilege.”
What a narcissist, Yujin thought in her head.
Footsteps stop in front of the table, a white cloak with the name tag on the side catches their attention.
“Hong Yujin time for your weigh in.” The doctor announces with a short smile given to the young girl. Standing up from the chair she didn’t bother to look back at Haechan, who was very much disappointed by the conversation ending so soon.
Seeing her walk away from behind made the future even more brighter and exciting for Haechan. She was his only sole of entertainment here.
But as for the young girl she was dreading the scale. Arriving at the doctors office there was only one thing on Yujin’s mind and that was early morning — when she had to eat something otherwise a tube was in order for her.
An ultimatum which had cons on each side wasn’t a very good ultimatum. But a much better idea than getting tubed out.
Yujin took a deep breath before stepping on the scale. Trying to suck in every inch of her stomach in wasn’t going to help.
The doctor looks down at the number.
One was happy. One was completely devastated.
Getting off the scale felt harder when you are knowing what number you stand on. Yujin feels a complete spiral waiting by the door.
Something gained, something earned…
“Congratulations Yujin. You gained a pound. If you keep up this work you can earn going back home permanently.” Writing down on the notepad and to add on the files. Yujin didn’t respond and looked around the room. “You may go back to your room. Keep up the good work.”
So discarding of the mental wellbeing. Yujin walked out instantly when dismissed and ran to the room closing it shut tight.
To the girl a pound was a lot. To her a pound meant the world crashing. Or to her a pound meant dying. It’s extreme right?
Filled up with guilt, Yujin did next what was needed. The ward was pretty secure on keeping Yujin from doing anything extreme. Exercise was forbidden. But that doesn’t stop Yujin from time to time doing press ups or sit ups in middle of the night.
Furthermore Yujin needed a quick release. She felt sick to her stomach from finding out that the weight changed. It’s like she can feel the entire fat in her body growing. How could a singular bread make you gain so much?
There was regret on her mind which made her nauseated. The girl kneels down to a plant and instead she did what was necessary for a relief — to take back what she gained.
Just as she did that. Stirring up on the plant pot. The door opens revealing a nurse doing round checks. A scream halters and a rush to stop the thin girl from throwing up her entire stomach out. Two nurses has to come in to do some restraining.
“Grab her! We can’t let her do that!”
Watching Yujin fight back and scream — cry even when she was midway throwing up every little food in that stomach could hold.
The other ward patients were curious and some laughed seeing Yujin try to vomit when this place had zero to none privacy. Haechan stood by the doorframe peeking in with a wide smirk. It wasn’t a pretty sight of the girl. Nonetheless the patients were all not going to forget that she tried to vomit in a ward heavily restricted like this.
“I didn’t think she had the balls to do that.” Haechan giggles a bit impressed with the situation. She’s already proving to be an interesting character to the boy.
━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━@onyourhyuck please refer from translating copyrighting and plagiarising my work. Please reblog this blog and follow me for more updates it helps a girl out !
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beelmons · 1 year
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Luke Alvez x ADHD!Girlfriend (cw: mentions of mental disorder, light angst)
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It was always fun at games with him, classic Luke Alvez. Continuously saying how cute it was how you 'obsessed' over things. Time and again teasing you lovingly whenever you would zone out during conversations. Without fail, mentioning that you would be lost without him reminding you when to eat, and that it made him feel special.
Good ol' Luke, always looking at the bright side, always breezing through life. He'd hold you through the night whenever the anxiety randomly spiked, he'd reassure you that your mental disorder didn't define you, that you were more than that, that you were enough. He loved you, he really did.
But at the end of the day, it wasn't him who had to live with that disease. It was you. He didn't have to stay up, restless, due to random insomnia. He didn't have to set a million alarms to take just one pill. He didn't beat himself up whenever he was unable to do something simple, a mundane chore, just because his brain wouldn't respond. He got to go home, do his dishes, wash his laundry, and be okay. He didn't have to live with your faulty brain. Oh, but, alas he did have to live with you.
"I work hard. I work really hard. I don't think I'm asking for a lot here." he complained regarding the tidiness of the apartment you had had to yourself for almost a week. It wasn't common for him to lose his cool, but when he did, you had to brace yourself. He would never hurt you, no, but you would feel him far away, so far away despite being in the same room, that he might as well hold a dagger to your chest. That would pain you a lot less.
It had been little over six months since the two of you moved in together. The military-style routine that he had was benefitial to you, he'd drag you along for breakfast, motivate you into a quick workout, tease you into taking your pills. It was good for you, he was good for you. Everything was okay, until he was gone, and the facade of being a functional adult crumbled to the ground.
A slow forming knot began to grow within the walls of your throat. Was this the same man who months before professed eternal devotion to you only? It was hard to tell. Perhaps, he wasn't ready. Ready to deal with someone like you. You hugged your body trying to contain your tears, yet before you were able to talk, his phone beeped. He took a look and held back a curse word at the name that appeared on the screen.
"Emily?" you asked while you read the twinkling screen, and you were well aware what that meant. He nodded, his lips pursing in anger, he stared a couple of seconds longer, and finally he decided to leave the phone face down on the table. "Come on, Luke, don't be silly, I'm sure it's important." you grunted, taking the phone and picking up right away "Hey, Em." your boyfriend's boss greeted you with confusion "He's right here." you said before giving the phone to Luke.
He looked at you with disappointment, yet he took the device and pressed it to his ear "Yeah, boss. I understand. I'll be right there." he hung up the phone after the line went dead, and he made a frustrated movement with his hand.
"It's okay." you said reassuringly "I promise, we can discuss this when you come back."
You didn't exchange 'I love you's as you usually would, instead, he just grabbed the go-bag he had recently left on the floor and left through the same door he had just entered about half an hour ago.
He didn't call you the entire trip, not even to let you know he had landed safely, and sunk in your own deprecating thoughts, you didn't bring yourself to text him either.
The case was slightly complicated, and he knew he was going to be away for a little bit, still, he didn't gather the courage to call you to let you know. At least, not until the next day, when he was standing in the local precinct, being briefed about a crime, and his smartwatch started to vibrate with an alarm.
'Pill time!' the screen read. Since you had told him your pill schedule, he had set an alam himself to remind you to take it, even when he was away; he'd always take a second to call you and double check.
"Hey, Emily, I really need to make a call, do you mind if I step out for a second?" he asked apologetically.
"Lovers quarrel?" she brillantly deducted, but Luke couldn't bring himself to answer "Go. And, Luke, I know what this job can do to relationships. If you need to go back home, let me know." she reassured and he nodded in gratitude.
He moved away to a less concurred area to dial your number. He prayed you would still be content enough to pick up, and thankfully you did. "Hey" he said as soon as the call connected.
"Hey. Is everything okay?" you asked on the other side.
"Yeah, I just..." he made a slight pause "Have you taken your pills?" he inquired and you simply responded with silence; he quickly picked up on the cue "What did you have for breakfast?" he changed the question
"Half a bagel." you answered with slight shame, aware that he was probably judging you.
It angered him, honestly, that you couldn't take care of yourself, but at the same time, he knew, he struggled to understand, but he knew sometimes you just couldn't; what was really eating him was not that you didn't, it was that he couldn't be there to do it for you. "I'm coming home." he said resolutely.
"Luke, don't. I'm sorry, I'll try harder." you said, your voice starting to sound a little broken "I don't want you to end up resenting me if something happens with your job."
"What are you talking about?" he was taken aback by your confession "I could never resent you. I said something stupid, but at the end of the day I love you, and I want you to be okay."
"Sometimes it's just hard." you sobbed into the phone.
"I get it." he tried to comfort you. "Listen, we'll talk properly when I come back, but for now I need you to do me a favor. Get off the bed, drink at least one liter of water, take your pills, and for the love of god, order something to eat, and don't go sneaking bites to roxy." he said, his voice relaxing a little, coming out as his usual careless tone.
"Alright." your breath began to calm down "Thank you for being so patient with me."
"Hey, you love me enough to put up with my job, right?" he smiled to himself as he spoke "I can love you enough to be kind to that brain of yours."
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yangbbokari · 7 months
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Philiphobia?
Pairing/AU/Trope: Lee Know x gn!reader, Strangers to friends to lovers, Non!Idol AU
WC: 1.2k
Warnings: just a bunch of mental issues, emotions, and insecurities
A.N: Just a little drabble bc I've been a bit more emotional lately☹️😓 and I need to make up for all the series I have not been getting out to y'all🤭
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For as long as you could remember, you were scared. Of not would people would usually say, like spiders and snakes. In fact, those things intrigued you. What really made you terrified, was love. Your upbringing didn't help it either.
The love between your parents seemed so pure and loving. That's what you wanted. You wanted a love like your parents'. Your hopes and dreams were to be shattered though. Soon after your 11th birthday, all hell broke loose. Secrets were unvieled, revealing the lies and flaws between this so seemingly perfect relationship.
Your mother had been cheated on throughout her whole 20 year relationship with your father. Your father would try to manipulate your mother into thinking it was her fault. He was exetremely controlling and narcissistic. Also very hypocritical. Screaming and crying fits in the middle of the night left you restless. Mom would run away from home every chance she got until she eventually completely left your life after signing divorce papers. If not everyday, every week, your dad would remind you that you're the reason your mother left.
From there stemmed all your mental illnesses and psychiatric disorders. Attachment issues, abandoment issues, commitment issues, and trust issues. Depression and anxiety were at high. Difficulties with expressing your emotions.
At first, you didn't really notice it. To you, it was normal. Until you saw the way other people acted and it seemed different. Different than you at least.
You craved the love and the attention. But when offered it, you pushed it away and chose to turn from it. You wanted someone to take you into a long embrace yet, you would distance yourself. You wanted someone to tell you sweet words and praise you yet, they were like poison to your ears.
You wanted someone to love and to love you. It wasn't as easy as you thought though. Your feelings were not something you knew how to deal with.
Everytime you fell in love you'd confess without missing a beat. Only to be turned down. When you weren't turned down though, you didn't know how to show your love. You'd shy away. This only made you hurt the person more than loving them. So they'd leave.
Your fantasies were filled with friends to lovers tropes. They were never to be fulfilled though. Because you knew, those people that you fell for, would never like you back. So you held back your confessions. That wasn't easy either. You'd get attached quickly but too scared to commit to an actual relationship.
You wanted to be married with children in the future. But for you, you were so sure you'd end up alone. You didn't know how to deal with the feelings of love. You didn't want to. It was too hard to understand. And that only resulted in you distancing yourself from other people.
This made it harder for you to form a deep connection or bond.
That was until you met Minho. He was everything you dreamed of. He understood you in ways no one else could. It wasn't easily shown, but you knew. You knew of everything he'd do for you.
He was kind, caring and patient. Others knew him as cold and arrogant. But to you, he was almost an angel.
When you'd have your emotonal breakdowns, he'd stay by your side. He wouldn't hug you because he knew that was difficult for you to do. So he'd wait by your side and gently hum a song he knew that comforted you. He also knew, his presence was enough for you to calm down. He'd hold you by your shoulders and nod his head. He knew, it wasn't easy for you to tell him. Tell him of how you felt and what you were gong through. He'd let your shuddering breaths explain instead.
You met Minho during your first year of college. He was known as the ice prince. A very good-looking guy with a heart made of ice. That wasn't good news to you, so you stayed out of his path. It was a good startegy until one day, you accidentally ran into him at a store. You happened to be working as the cashier while he, a customer.
From then on, he'd attempt to get closer to you. But it wasn't as if he was being cocky and all over your space. He'd just show up and bring a gift with him. Eventually he found our socials and dm'd you. Your friendship quickly jumpstarted. Before you knew it, you were in love. But, of course you wouldn't tell him. So he told you instead. Like previously stated, he wouldn't say things outright. That being said, he slid a note into your pocket while hanging out.
When you found it after you got home, you were more than thrilled. That was the beginning of your relationship and two achievements fullfilled.
☑️Friends to lovers~ ☑️Love
Over the course of your relationship, Minho would help you cope. As you did for him. He had always paid close atention to your likes, dislikes, habits, and feelings. That made your bond grow stronger everyday. More things were checked off.
☑️Attention ☑️Deep connection or bond
Whenever you'd make a mistake he'd tell you that it was just a learning experience and you could do better next time. Whenever you did amazing, he'd tell you how proud he was. Everytime you'd do something specal for him, he'd remind you how thankful and lucky he is to have you. Everyday he'd leave notes all over the house just to tell you how much he loves you.
☑️sweet words and praise
Now there was only one thing left, marriage. You were already happy enough. In fact, you wouldn't be upset if Minho never chose to marry you. But Minho did that for you too.
On university graduation day, Minho knelt on one knee and proposed to you. That day was the happiest time of your life. Of course you agreed. How could you not? The kiss the two of you shared was passionate but soft. Everything was falling into place perfectly. A year and a half later, the wedding was held.
You walked down the isle together, grinning from ear to ear. Vows were made and rings were exchanged. Minho was just as stunning as always. There was nothing more you could ever ask for.
☑️marriage
By now, it's your 3 year anniversary and he took you to a cat cafe. How cliche of him. Having 3 cats at home already clearly didn't suffice. But Sooni, Doongi, and Dori didn't mind.
☑️Children
All that you've dreamed of since you were a child came true and it was all thanks to one person in particular, Lee Minho. He is your beacon of light in a dark tunnel. He is your only shelter in a raging storm. He's your big shady tree on a hot summer day. He's the wings that have carried you this far after you've fallen down. He's the one you love.
As you lay in bed, you turn to him and he turned to you. No words were spoken but it was clear what was being conveyed.
"I love you." ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ A.N again: hope you guys enjoyed pls leave comments or tell me if I need to make adjustments to my work since I'm still a rookie at this. But have a nice day/night everyone!!!😊🫶🏻💖💗❤️
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farfromstrange · 11 months
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Hello!
I read Angel on the Roof and that was AMAZING. I was feeling like that way and honestly that was exactly what I needed to read. Thank you for writing!
I have a request! Maybe alternate ending + sequel of the fic if you are interested/have time, where Matt did notice it and in this universe it’s going to be more comforting. OR maybe whole new story where reader is having mental illness, angst but comfort in the end?
Again I LOVE your writing can’t wait for another Matt fics!!! Thank youuuu !!!
Okay, nonnie, first of all, I hope you're doing okay! I hope you're feeling better, too. I know how hard it can be to feel this way and I wrote that fic when I was at one of the lowest points in my life. I'm glad you liked it, but I also hope you're taking good care of yourself! I love you. Now to your request, I re-read Angel On The Roof and I remembered why it was so sad, and I'm so glad you requested a comfort version. I decided to do it from Reader's POV since the original was Matt's POV and I've changed the ending, so it's still the same foundation, but you've also got a whole new fic. I hope you like the way I did it!
Angel On The Roof (Your Version)
Masterlist
Pairing: Matt Murdock x Reader (she/her)
Summary: What if Matt saved you from your own demons instead of being too late?
Warnings: TW: SELF-HARM, graphic descriptions of self-harm, blood, scars, ANGST, mental illness, suicide attempt, hurt/comfort, happy ending, fix it fic for a fic
Word Count: 3k
A/n: So you can read "Angel On The Roof" here. Like I said before, this is the mentioned fic from your POV but with a twist so that it ends without Reader committing suicide. If the above-mentioned topics trigger you, please don't read! Not tagging because this is a sensitive subject and I go really into detail.
18+ THIS IS HEAVY STUFF!
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Mental illness speaks in silence. 
Unlike a broken leg, you can’t see a sickness of the mind. There is no physical proof for the scary truth that something is going not quite right inside of your brain. And because people can’t see it, they have a hard time believing the truth. They have a hard time believing that being sick in the head could even affect you this much, so they try to sell your pain as worth less than it is. How could thoughts possibly turn paralyzing? How could someone’s mind make them feel worthless to the point the affected person sees no other way out but to inflict pain onto themselves? Attention whores, it’s what those people like to call the struggling ones. Lazy, weak, selfish… every mentally ill person has heard one of those words being used to describe them one way or another. 
Mental illness speaks in silence because if we spoke louder, people would only sneer and turn their backs on us. Mental illness speaks in silence because suffering alone seems better than burdening someone else. And mental illness speaks in silence because those who are mentally ill live in a different world. Their heads work differently. Mental illness speaks in silence because pain paralyzes, and silent acts are the only way someone so stuck in the claws of the faceless monster knows how to ask for help. By the time people consider questioning certain behavior though, it is often too late, and the person soon enough feels as if they’re being a burden once more because the judging looks are worse than admitting you need help in the first place. 
The monster that is mental illness is cruel and it has no regard for you or the people around you. It has set out to destroy you, and you feel helpless as it tears a knife through your soul and picks your heart apart piece by piece. And those who say, ‘Just ask for help’ or ‘Don’t be scared to speak up’ clearly don’t know how hard it can be to break out of such a circle once you’re already active in it. 
Self-harm is considered a serious addiction on the roster, but most people see it merely as a symptom of many personality disorders or mood disorders. Those who seemingly know nothing about mental illness even like to call it a call for attention. As if self-mutilation would ever be a conscious choice made by anyone. You try to fight a pain that no one can see and only you can feel, and sometimes, when you feel so much - too much - it gets deafening and you need another pain to balance it out. 
Drugs aren’t the only thing hurting you that can result in addiction. There is a long list of things that harm the mind and body, and that is often used as a coping mechanism for the terrible things most people are forced to feel inside. 
You don’t remember when it started. You only remember that you were merely a child when you first started feeling this way. Helpless, alone, and with a pain deep inside of your chest that had claws and sharp teeth, ready to eat you whole. The monster ate away at you for years, but you ignored it. 
People told you it was just hormones, that this was part of growing up. Meanwhile, you only got sicker. Your mind turned against you. You became your own worst bully, and the voices in your head started taking you apart one by one. 
You reached a point where you loathed yourself so much, all you wanted was to scratch your eyes out and tear your skin off. You hated looking in the mirror and seeing the same miserable face every day. You hated being the friend that was the least fun and being stuck inside with this hurt consuming you. It made it harder to breathe, it made your heart stop in your chest, and yet you never physically died. Inside, you were long gone, but you ignored it because no one seemed to care. 
You tried drugs and alcohol, but that wasn’t enough to kill your pain, and you never fully managed to end it all. Your existence became a nuisance. 
You never believed in God. The constant self-pity, shame, guilt, and blame became your best friends. In your mind, you fucked up your own life. Your mind was fucked up, so you were automatically at fault. You ended up being in so much blood-boiling pain, you tried to find a way to inflict pain in other ways to distract you from the numbness that burned your insides like acid would burn the cells of your skin in an instant, and the toxic waste ended up in your bloodstream, then your mind and in the end, it poisoned your heart and your soul. 
You truly believed you were rotten inside, and there was nothing that seemed to help.
You turned to cutting, the blood running from your wrists a testament to your pain, and it made breathing so much easier for just a moment. The razor blades were the brush with which you painted the tiles of your bathroom floor red almost every night. You weren’t proud of it, but you had no one to listen, no one to help you and you just felt so fucking numb– You had to find something to relieve you of this pain for a simple moment, and a moment was all it took to get you hooked on the feeling. It was a different kind of pain, and your wrists looked mutilated, even long after you were done, but whenever you brushed over the scars, you felt the need to do it again, and so you did. 
One summer night, you found your way to one of the rooftops in Hell’s Kitchen. You didn’t want to jump, but having the choice to do so filled your body with a certain sense of relief. If you had jumped, you would have died. You could have broken your neck and ended it all. You would have died on your way down already, probably, or maybe you would have passed out. 
The world seemed so small from up there, but you were still alone. 
That night, you felt his presence for the first time. He wore a black mask; you had seen him on the news a while back, but word on the streets had it that the Devil of Hell’s Kitchen disappeared. After Wilson Fisk got imprisoned, he must have found his way back. 
“I don’t want to jump,” you assured him. “I just want to feel.” It wasn’t a lie. Your heart beat slow and steady in your chest and against your ribcage. The wind in your hair cooled the sheen of sweat from the early summer heat. 
He didn’t talk, he simply stood by your side. You were too tired to ask him why. When you sat down, he followed shoulder to shoulder, together. Your tears had dried on your cheeks and you watched the clouds pass by, hide and reveal new stars, and you pointed out the constellations in your head. He wouldn’t let you fall, it seemed, and so you simply stayed there. It was the first time someone seemed to care without trying to fix you. 
You were okay.
He walked you home before sunrise and asked you again, “Are you gonna be okay?”
“Yes,” you answered. In the moment, you usually were. 
You smiled and thanked him, and he told you, “If you ever need to talk, well… you know I’ll find you if you call for me.”
One day, after finding you on the roof again (at this point, you weren’t sure why you were doing it anymore), it started to rain. He offered to walk you home and asked you if you were okay again. You offered him to stay. 
“Who hurt you?” he asked you once you bid him inside. 
You brewed some tea, offering him a mug. He took it. You shrugged as an answer to his question. The numbness settled back in. You had no tears left to shed. Did he care? You weren’t sure. People often liked to ask for no reason whatsoever, and you knew if you told them, they would have called you crazy. 
“I hurt myself,” you said. 
He caught your wrist when you tried to walk away. His fingers dug into the fresh scars without trying to, but it hurt and it functioned as a cruel reminder of what your arms looked like. Of what you did. Instead of numbness, what you felt was guilt, and when his mouth contorted, you knew he realized something wasn’t right. 
You were so stupid, you thought and pulled away from him. How could anyone ever care or love a broken mess of nothingness like you? You weren’t worthy of anyone’s affection. This – the scars on your wrists and the hole in your chest – was what you deserved. 
He didn’t run though. The stranger tilted his head as if to understand you.
“Why?” he asked. 
It made you think. Why, exactly, were you doing this? 
“Because I need to feel something other than this pain that is numbing me,” you admitted. 
You were so honest with him that night, and it seemed to surprise him, but he also listened to every last word coming out of your mouth. 
He let go of your wrist then and said, “Have you ever asked someone for help?” 
“Why would I?” you asked. 
“Because there are people who can help when you’re hurting.” 
Fixing you, that was what he meant. There were people who could fix you, but you didn’t want to be fixed. You couldn’t be fixed. Everyone always tried to fix you and you were so sick and tired of being the one everyone deemed broken all the time. 
“Perhaps you should go,” you said and opened the door for him. You had to end it there. 
One night, you cut too deep, and the world caved in on you. You had no choice but to endure it, but you broke under the weight like a fragile vase. You cut too deep, and the blood mingled on the floor with your tears. It hurt – the cuts weren’t the worst part because they only thudded numbly in sync with your pulse; the worst part was the bomb in your chest exploding and sending all these feelings hurdling around. 
God, you hated yourself. 
You always kept your windows unlocked. What you didn’t expect was for him to climb through your window. Only when he kicked the door down did you look up, your face stained with tears. He tilted his head, seemingly smelling the air, before he knelt beside you and wrapped towels around your bleeding wrists. The essence of your heart was on the floor now, the vase broken, and he cleaned it up without hesitation. 
You didn’t deserve such gentle treatment. 
You sobbed into his strong arms until there was nothing left to give. Instead of leaving though, he stayed. He took you to bed and bandaged your wrists, still keeping the black mask right where it was. It was you curious, and you hadn’t felt curious in quite a while. 
He stopped the bleeding without problems, and then he lay beside you as you regained some sense of self. 
“Why do you keep doing it?” he asked eventually. His finger ran over the bandage he had applied earlier. “Why do you keep hurting yourself?”
You shivered. “It wouldn’t make sense even if I told you,” you said. 
Because even to you, it didn’t make sense.
“Try me.”
“No, you wouldn’t understand. You barely even know me and I don’t know you. Why do you keep doing this, D?”
“Matthew,” he told her. “That is my name.”
It was the first display of trust he showed you, and you were a little taken aback. 
Your lips parted and you whispered your name into the darkness. He smiled softly, taking your weak hand into his.
“Nice to meet you,” he said. 
You stared at him for a while before asking something that almost came naturally. “Can you stay?” your voice was barely above a whisper. 
He battled with himself before giving in, agreeing to stay, and you felt something in your heart turn around. A candle was lit. Was that the scent of hope you could smell? You weren’t sure, but the fact he held your hand as you tried to find your way into a restless sleep and never once waivered with his support filled you with a sense of safety, and finally, for once in your life, the voices went quiet. You focused on his heartbeat and breathing, and you finally felt less alone. 
The next morning, your window was closed again and he was gone, probably disappearing in the middle of the night. You found a note on the dining table, poorly scribbled, but you could decipher what he wrote. 
It’s because I care about you, Angel.
He cared. About you. You broke down crying, not used to this much affection, but it was also then you realized that it was what you desperately needed. 
You looked at your bandaged wrist, then your reflection in the metallic shimmer of your fridge, and you made a decision you should have made from the beginning. 
You waited on the rooftop again that night, this time the one of your apartment complex. He appeared not long after you whispered his name into the humid night air. Cars passed by and the city grew louder by the minute, but he still came. 
He wore his mask again. 
“Will I ever see your face?” you wondered aloud.
He chuckled. “It wouldn’t be a good idea.”
The Devil of Hell’s Kitchen knowingly never did home visits. 
“Can you see mine?” you asked. 
“No,” he said. “I can’t see yours.”
Your breath shuddered. 
“What’s wrong?”
“You changed something in me last night.”
Matthew seemed to pipe up at your admission, and he took a step closer. “Oh yeah?” he asked.
“Yes,” you breathed. 
“What did I change?”
“You saved my life.”
“I only came because you needed someone.”
You asked, “Is that why you always come to these rooftops?” 
He shrugged. “You call, I come,” Matthew said. “That’s all there is to it.”
But it wasn’t all. 
With a weak sniffle, you closed the distance between you and fell into his arms. He caught you, holding you close to him. His heart thudded in your ear like the night before, and you couldn’t hold it back anymore. Years of pain, sadness, and anger fell off your shoulders, leaving you even more broken than before, but for the first time, you felt it all. And you knew you couldn’t live like this any longer. 
“I need–” you choked on a sob. It burned in your lungs. 
His grip tightened. “What do you need, Angel?”
“I need help,” it was the first time you said it, but the moment the words left your mouth, Matthew vowed to stay by your side. 
That night, he took his mask off for the first time after taking you home. You saw his face, and you felt a sense of relief. He was beautiful, inside and out, but he was also incredibly human. His blind eyes were unfocused, but you only touched his cheek with tender fingers. You owed him your life, and you made sure to show him that. 
“Matt Murdock,” he introduced himself. 
You gave him the courtesy of doing the same. 
He smiled, and you saw something in his eyes that would end up changing your entire life. 
Love. 
That cruel time of finding back to yourself after years of self-harm and depression is in the past, it has been for a while now.
The sun stands high in the sky above New York. A long time ago, summer filled you with dread. As you’re staring out through the windows of your home now, all you can think about is how beautiful the world is. The city stands tall in the distance, and you find yourself smiling into your cup of chamomile tea. 
The light reflects off the golden wedding band on your ring finger. Your name stands in Braille letters next to his with a heart of diamonds. It’s unique, special, just like your love story. 
When you first met him, you never thought you would end up here, but he woke you up from your coma and you found your way back to the light. He helped you, he supported you and he made sure you would always have someone to turn to. 
Years later now, you’re wearing his name and ring on your finger, and you have a home that truly feels like one because he is in it with you. He is your home, your haven, your sanctuary, and you owe him more than he will ever know. 
A pair of arms snakes around your waist and pull you back into a sturdy chest. You smile even more. “Hi,” you whisper. 
Matt presses a kiss to your shoulder. “Hi,” he says. 
“The sun is out.”
“I know, I can feel it.”
“Right. Even after all these years, I still tend to forget I’m married to a superhero,” you say, albeit teasing, but your words also hold a mountain of truth. 
He chuckles. “You’re forgiven, Mrs. Murdock.”
“Oh, I’m glad.”
Matt’s hold on you tightens. Now that he has you, he refuses to let you go. “What were you thinking about just then?” he asks. 
You lick your lips, closing your eyes as your body melts into his almost naturally. “You and me,” you say, “and how far we’ve come.”
“Mhm.”
“And that I can’t wait to start a family with you one day and give our children the support I’ve never had.”
He tears up a little at that, you can hear it in his voice when he whispers, “I love you,” and he turns you around to capture your lips in a loving kiss. 
You realize it then for the millionth time since that night you first ran into the Devil of Hell’s Kitchen on the roof; Getting help was the best choice of your life, and no scar on his or your body matter now that you’ve got each other.
You belong in each other’s arms, today, tomorrow, and forever and always. Just like you said in your vows – there is nothing you can’t overcome, as long as you’re doing it together. 
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efangamez · 1 year
Text
Hey you beautiful people!
My name is EfanGamez, a very neurodivergent trans and pan creator who has created 20+ games and have gotten nearly 30,000 downloads on my games!
On this blog, you can find some stuff that I have created, as well as just some fun stuff. I'm not here to preach to people or make sales only; I just want people to enjoy what I make!
You can find my games right here. I promise they're amazing!
If you want separate stores, look below as well!
Itch.io
DriveThruRPG
Kofi
Have a wonderful day! 💜✨💜✨
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MY BOUNDARIES <3
So a little PSA going forward btw! This isn't meant as a call out or anything, but a stating of boundaries with my page and communication, as well as some clear ups!
I am incredibly mentally ill and autistic, with memory loss and attention disorders, so if we communicate and things are a little wonky, let me know! Sometimes I'm unaware what I'm saying may be a little rude, so please kindly let me know!
Boundary 1: Please do not ask me to review game items of yours or someone else's! I currently am trying to simply exist in this world by eating, drinking, and showering, so I may not have time to read your games, even if they're really short. I think that, for me right now, it puts a lot of pressure on me that I just cannot deal with right now.
Boundary 2: Please do not ask for advice or tips unsolicited unless through an ask. Again, because I'm a slow texter and have memory loss, I may not be able to get back to you, and I'd much rather you just ask publicly than privately.
Boundary 3: Please no unsolicited DMs. I have learned the hard way many people on this app who DM me wanting something, trying to strike up conversations, or love bomb you, are trying to get something out of you, and I'm kinda tired of it, frankly. Some people who have DMed me have become cool peeps I can talk to, but some have manipulated me and used me, and when I was of no use, discarded me. Because of this, please ONLY DM me if I have expressed a want to otherwise! (This is for mostly random people I don't know, so if we're already talking, we should be good!)
Boundary 4:This kinda goes without saying, but please do not interact with me if you are a minor. This is an 18+ page.
Boundary 5: This one may sting for some people, but it's my personal boundary and it has nothing to do with people individually. I do not wish to be called a "friend" of yours unless I myself call you that. It's a term I hold quite dear and hold for a VERY few people. I'm more like an acquaintance to many people or even just one step up from stranger. Again, it does not mean I don't like you, I just hold friendships super close to my heart, and I've been burned calling people friend who truly are not mine.
Boundary 6: This one is kinda twofold. I want people to know that if my boundaries are crossed after warning, I will block you. My mental health cannot take constant violations of my boundaries, and thus I have to enforce them. The next is that I will ALWAYS restate a boundary with someone, because I'll never expect anyone to know a boundary without them knowing, so if it happens, I'll let you know, sometimes more than once if I know you well enough.
Boundary 7: I will ALWAYS talk about politics or human rights issues, so if you have an issue with that, please do not interact with me. I do not wish to be comrades with those who are "apolitical".
And that's it! I know it's a ton, but like I said, I'll never expect anyone to know automatically what my boundaries are, so if ya mess up, I'll let ya know very kindly!
I'll also have this up on my pinned post so that way people can know exactly my boundaries are!
Have a wonderful day to y'all, and to my fellow disabled and mentally ill baddies out there; you are absolutely loved, and please don't drive yourself to spiral because your feelings are ALWAYS valid (this goes to me too lol).
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heymacy · 6 days
Note
hi! i haven’t seen mickeyless seasons so i wanted to ask if ian ever has issues about being bipolar like he did with mickey? like him breaking up in s5 for not wanting to see mickey hurt and s10 when he asks if he’s crazy for wanting to be with him! i think i read somewhere that caleb? maybe had a talk about self love or whatever to ian but that dude was horrendous ( not that trevor was best for what ive seen ) so im not sure that counts ahah
hi anon!
yes, ian grappling with his disorder is a very very big theme throughout seasons 6, 7, 8, and 9. in fact i would argue that aside from him becoming an EMT, the bipolar storyline is his most significant one (i typed out my response and it got very long so i'm going to put it below the cut 💛)
in s6 he is fresh off of the diagnosis, the breakup, and coping with mickey going to prison (and he was definitely trying to cope, he still loved him and seeing someone you love locked up is immeasurably hard. i feel like we don't talk about this enough). he feels very aimless and it isn't until an incident (he's a bystander to a car crash and rescues a woman from a burning vehicle) that he finds his new path (becoming an EMT, which he does by the end of s6). caleb was absolutely awful in so many ways but the one good thing he did do was encourage and support ian in finding a new life path, which is the only credit i will give him. there's also a deleted scene in s6 that is so, so important re: understanding how mentally ill people are viewed and treated in society and of course ian's monologue about how he's good at his job because of his illness, which is one of my favorite scenes in the entire show.
in s7, he's getting healthy again and taking his meds, but it isn't without struggle. there's a very poignant and important scene (part one, part two) with lip where he expresses his struggles with his disorder and how hard it is for him to cope with taking his meds and listening to the warning signs for episodes (he was behaving in ways akin to a hypomanic episode/showing signs of slipping into an episode just before the conversation happens). by the end of the season, after he leaves mickey at the border, he's still relatively stable, but the emotional triggers of leaving mickey behind + monica's death start to take a toll on him, which we see in s8. there's also the trevor of it all in s7, but that's a whole other issue. trevor did not have a positive impact on ian's self-esteem whatsoever and even went so far as to demand ian forgive monica and "move on" after knowing 0.1% of the history between the two of them. that scene in particular makes me unfathomably angry and i just know it was deeply, deeply triggering for ian to hear that from someone he cared about.
in s8, we have the gay jesus storyline, which i absolutely detest and hate to discuss, but it's part of his story and it needs to be acknowledged. he's taken advantage of a lot this season, propelled towards some sort of fucked up end goal with very little control over his circumstances, and it quickly spirals out of control. while the writers never explicitly state that ian is hypo/manic during this season, you can watch the progression happen if you pay close enough attention. despite not being given a lot to work with, cameron did a great job at playing the nuances of bipolar disorder this season, showing ian's descent into hypo/mania as the gay jesus movement grows and warps.
in s9, he's in prison for the first time and is noticeably manic. after being released, he starts seeking out meaning and purpose in religion. eventually he's forced to face the consequences of his actions and pleads not guilty to arson by reason of insanity, not only defying the wishes of the gay jesus followers (they feared him going public with his diagnosis and pleading insanity would delegitimize the movement) but also finally choosing to really acknowledge his disorder, reckon with it, and make peace with it, in a strange sort of way. it's a very important and pivotal moment for his character and cameron absolutely delivers during his plea monologue.
if you've see s10 you know how his self-worth takes a hit regarding the marriage storyline, and how he's so terrified of marrying mickey because 1) he doesn't know if he's capable of being a good partner because he doesn't feel like he had good examples of healthy marriage standards growing up and 2) he isn't sure mickey knows what he's signing up for re: his disorder and everything it entails. which, of course, is not the case, because mickey doesn't love him in spite of his disorder, he loves him completely, and his disorder is just a part of that. he wants all of him, always, and that's a huge plot point in s10 and s11 ("i gotta worry, you're my husband" scene my absolute beloved).
anyway. the short answer is that yes, ian spends a lot of time grappling with his disorder and the realities of life as a bipolar human. he deals with issues regarding his self-worth, his purpose, and his relationships. speaking as a bipolar individual, i can say with absolute certainty that coming to terms with your diagnosis is a long, arduous process that takes many years and a lot of commitment to achieve. it's not easy, and though the writers dropped the ball on a LOT of storylines in the show, they did a pretty damn good job of showing how hard it is to cope and live with the realities of bipolar disorder and everything that entails.
if you ever want to see more of his journey, gallavichscenes on youtube has playlists of all of ian's scenes in season 6, season 7, season 8, and season 9. i highly recommend watching the show in its entirety but if you don't want to do that, i recommend at the very least watching the rest of ian's storyline. it colors so much of his story and mickey's and it's hard to fully comprehend the extent of their relationship without understanding that storyline. i hope this answered your question! sending tons and tons of love 💛
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aspd-culture · 7 months
Note
Hello, I hope you’re doing okay and great! I have some serious questions on ASPD and therapy I need your opinion on it.
-what do you think of the therapy with pwASPD? also have you been in therapy? how was it for you (if that’s okay to answer)
-do you think therapy works for pwASPD?
( I personally have aspd i’m diagnosed by psychiatrist)
I really need an answer. I’m giving up on therapy. which i don’t mind anymore.
I have been in therapy with 3 therapists so far, and have talked to a few pwASPD who have been in therapy as well. For me, so far, I don't think I've found a therapist I click well with ASPD-wise, so we tend to stick to talking about PTSD. I am protective of my mask, and letting it slip enough to discuss my ASPD symptoms is hard because I learned I *have* to keep this mask up at all times or be in danger.
That said, my therapists have not been specialists in any form. They are all your basic therapist without any specialization at all and have openly told me this. Most are much more used to basic depression, anxiety, and one was used to OCD as well. Even so, therapy has still been very helpful for my ASPD, if only because it gives me a place to work through trauma which enables me to handle my ASPD responses from said trauma by myself.
My friends with ASPD have directly benefited from therapy, however, as they had therapists who were more open to talking about those symptoms. Someone I knew went from being stuck in a loop of self-destructive behaviors (including sh and alcoholism, amongst others) and very violent outbursts that caused hospital visits and many, many cop calls to being able to function well enough that they actually were able to adjust (under the care of a psychiatrist) their meds down significantly and functioned far better than before. They went from having cops called on them at least once a month to going a couple months at a time without even having the urge to do anything violent, and only acted on it in ways that hurt no one (such as stepping away from the situation and breaking their own unused computer parts in a controlled manner, then returning to the interaction when they were calm). Cases like theirs aren't uncommon, and of course pwASPD symptoms that don't manifest the same way theirs did still find benefit from therapy. Not everyone will, but I think overall there is nothing about ASPD that would stop therapy from being effective if you find the right person and type.
I do think some research has to be done into the right specialist (I prefer trauma specialists vs cluster b specialists because trauma specialists have much less stigma about us in my experience). Also, as with anyone with any disorder going into therapy, you will have to try it out and do research to find the best types of therapy for you.
There is some research suggesting that MBT/Mentalization therapy may be beneficial to pwASPD, as it has shown to be very helpful for pwBPD. As I (a non-professional) understand it, MBT focuses on teaching you (very slowly) to reflect on your thoughts, feelings, actions, etc. and that of other people's. Especially for pwASPD who are not willing to open up about their past (very common as that makes us feel vulnerable), MBT can be a great option, as it does not address the past at all. Instead it focuses on how things are going for you right now, in the moment using the interactions with your therapist as a guide. So if you show signs of anxiety while talking to your therapist, they would point that out to you and help you recognize it and adjust for it in the moment. Over time, this can help train your brain to do this outside of the therapy session as well.
Schema therapy is another one that is commonly thought to be helpful for pwASPD, as it focuses on the behavioral and thought patterns taught to us in childhood and works to identify ones that basically aren't helping us anymore. It seems very Marie Kondo to me, but for mental health. If that process isn't serving you anymore, then it should be gotten rid of (which takes time and effort and is part of what the therapist helps with) to make room for new, healthier responses that make more sense in the context of your current life.
For example, if, as a child, you had to steal to get the things you needed because you were being neglected, your brain may have taken in that that is what one does to survive. However, if you are an adult who is capable of taking care of themselves and can get what they need without stealing to do so, schema therapy would help to address the emotions and trauma that led to the former belief and help to replace it with the understanding that you can support yourself without it.
Both of these, actually, are commonly recommended for pwBPD, which is why they are being researched for ASPD. I haven't been to anyone who specifically uses these forms, but they sound similar to the ways I taught myself to avoid destructive behaviors and I can see how they may help keep pwASPD from feeling unsafe in therapy and quitting.
No type of therapy works for everyone, nor everyone with a specific disorder, but if these sound like they might help I would advise you to research them and speak to a therapist who specializes in one of them. If not, I would research other kinds. Yes, therapy does not work for everyone, but there are so many methods and approaches that I would say a vast majority of people can find a method that works for them. The process of trying new methods and therapists out is usually where people give up.
If you're able, I'd advise you to keep trying. At the end of the day, though, I am just someone on the internet who does not know your situation anywhere near as well as you and/or your professionals and/or your loved ones do. I can't say for sure that it will work.
What I can say is that I do believe there is a solid chance therapy can help if you're willing to keep trying.
Plain text below the cut:
I have been in therapy with 3 therapists so far, and have talked to a few pwASPD who have been in therapy as well. For me, so far, I don't think I've found a therapist I click well with ASPD-wise, so we tend to stick to talking about PTSD. I am protective of my mask, and letting it slip enough to discuss my ASPD symptoms is hard because I learned I *have* to keep this mask up at all times or be in danger.
That said, my therapists have not been specialists in any form. They are all your basic therapist without any specialization at all and have openly told me this. Most are much more used to basic depression, anxiety, and one was used to OCD as well. Even so, therapy has still been very helpful for my ASPD, if only because it gives me a place to work through trauma which enables me to handle my ASPD responses from said trauma by myself.
My friends with ASPD have directly benefited from therapy, however, as they had therapists who were more open to talking about those symptoms. Someone I knew went from being stuck in a loop of self-destructive behaviors (including sh and alcoholism, amongst others) and very violent outbursts that caused hospital visits and many, many cop calls to being able to function well enough that they actually were able to adjust (under the care of a psychiatrist) their meds down significantly and functioned far better than before. They went from having cops called on them at least once a month to going a couple months at a time without even having the urge to do anything violent, and only acted on it in ways that hurt no one (such as stepping away from the situation and breaking their own unused computer parts in a controlled manner, then returning to the interaction when they were calm). Cases like theirs aren't uncommon, and of course pwASPD symptoms that don't manifest the same way theirs did still find benefit from therapy. Not everyone will, but I think overall there is nothing about ASPD that would stop therapy from being effective if you find the right person and type.
I do think some research has to be done into the right specialist (I prefer trauma specialists vs cluster b specialists because trauma specialists have much less stigma about us in my experience). Also, as with anyone with any disorder going into therapy, you will have to try it out and do research to find the best types of therapy for you.
There is some research suggesting that MBT/Mentalization therapy may be beneficial to pwASPD, as it has shown to be very helpful for pwBPD. As I (a non-professional) understand it, MBT focuses on teaching you (very slowly) to reflect on your thoughts, feelings, actions, etc. and that of other people's. Especially for pwASPD who are not willing to open up about their past (very common as that makes us feel vulnerable), MBT can be a great option, as it does not address the past at all. Instead it focuses on how things are going for you right now, in the moment using the interactions with your therapist as a guide. So if you show signs of anxiety while talking to your therapist, they would point that out to you and help you recognize it and adjust for it in the moment. Over time, this can help train your brain to do this outside of the therapy session as well.
Schema therapy is another one that is commonly thought to be helpful for pwASPD, as it focuses on the behavioral and thought patterns taught to us in childhood and works to identify ones that basically aren't helping us anymore. It seems very Marie Kondo to me, but for mental health. If that process isn't serving you anymore, then it should be gotten rid of (which takes time and effort and is part of what the therapist helps with) to make room for new, healthier responses that make more sense in the context of your current life.
For example, if, as a child, you had to steal to get the things you needed because you were being neglected, your brain may have taken in that that is what one does to survive. However, if you are an adult who is capable of taking care of themselves and can get what they need without stealing to do so, schema therapy would help to address the emotions and trauma that led to the former belief and help to replace it with the understanding that you can support yourself without it.
Both of these, actually, are commonly recommended for pwBPD, which is why they are being researched for ASPD. I haven't been to anyone who specifically uses these forms, but they sound similar to the ways I taught myself to avoid destructive behaviors and I can see how they may help keep pwASPD from feeling unsafe in therapy and quitting.
No type of therapy works for everyone, nor everyone with a specific disorder, but if these sound like they might help I would advise you to research them and speak to a therapist who specializes in one of them. If not, I would research other kinds. Yes, therapy does not work for everyone, but there are so many methods and approaches that I would say a vast majority of people can find a method that works for them. The process of trying new methods and therapists out is usually where people give up.
If you're able, I'd advise you to keep trying. At the end of the day, though, I am just someone on the internet who does not know your situation anywhere near as well as you and/or your professionals and/or your loved ones do. I can't say for sure that it will work.
What I can say is that I do believe there is a solid chance therapy can help if you're willing to keep trying.
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drdemonprince · 1 year
Note
Hey Devon,
I've been thinking a lot lately about the idea of there being a hard line between "autistic" and "not autistic". Do you think that there exists some kind of innate Truth about each person, that they are either autistic or not? I guess I'm referring to the concept of a neurotype, where differences run deep, and are bridged only at a surface level, by masking/compensation. Something which, if we could measure it well enough, would clearly and unfailingly differentiate between autistic and non-autistic people.
The alternative, I suppose, is that there are grey areas, people who are in between. In that case, I struggle to understand what autism is - a category that's defined by society more than by physical reality? In that case, can you be sort-of-autistic or almost-autistic or barely-autistic? I have the sense that this is the more common situation when it comes to psychology, but it doesn't really line up with how we talk about autism.
I already went through all this with gender some years ago, and I got the answers I needed there by slowly transitioning, but I'm not sure if there's a similarly satisfying path to closure when it comes to autism. I mean, I'm both self- and formally-diagnosed anyway, but it does niggle at me. I feel like I'm in that grey area if it exists.
Keen to hear your thoughts!
I think this article about sums up my thoughts!
There is no blood test for Autism, or brain scan, or single gene we can look for, or objective measure that gives a definitive answer. All we have are flawed assessments created by non-Autistic mental health professionals, and the observations and critiques written by Autistic people themselves.
When someone comes to me wondering if they are Autistic, I always have the same advice: read writing by Autistics. Watch videos by Autistic people. Try out resources designed for Autistics, like Ear Defenders, stim toys, and weighted blankets. Join an Autistic community space, whether that’s a virtual meeting, an in-person one, or a social media hub. Explore the possibilities, and focus less on discovering objective “truth,” and more on finding what helps you feel more happy, connected, and whole.
I don’t believe in drawing an arbitrary line in the sand and saying a sufficient number of traits (or intensity of traits) makes someone categorically Autistic, especially considering that many undiagnosed Autistics have been forced to hide their more obvious traits for decades. If you have some Autistic traits but not others, it’s possible you have generalized anxiety, PTSD, OCD, social anxiety, or ADHD. Look into those disorders and their communities too. See if there are resources that are useful to you there. You can be promiscuous — we won’t get jealous. A lot of us have multiple conditions anyway. Or feel at home in multiple mental health communities, if you prefer.
As your question acknowledges, Autism is a spectrum. Or as others have written, a sundae bar with a variety of toppings. If you are somewhere on the spectrum, you’re on the spectrum; you don’t have to be the most intensely Autistic person around to count. Even if you actually have a “sister condition” like ADHD, you might still feel at home among Autistic folks, and if that’s the case, you belong too.
I have said this many times, but people need the reassurance very often: if you feel at home in the community, if you benefit from resources designed by and for Autistic people, if you recognize you share common interests with us and you want to fight alongside us for greater disability justice, you belong in the neurodiverse community. Full stop. Don’t let anyone tell you otherwise.
You can use whatever words for yourself you feel most comfortable with, Anon, or you can just enter neurodiverse community spaces without claiming a label. You don’t owe anyone proof, and you don’t have to be “Autistic enough” to matter and belong here. We are stronger together. We’re a big, diverse rainbow, and you are welcome inside it.
In other words, I think the conclusion is very much the same one we arrive at re: queerness. The real question is never "is this individual person Autistic", it's "are all people harmed by the social mandate that we all be neurotypical" and the answer to that one is always yes. How we personally reconcile that fact wrt our own lives and how we choose to identify is up to us. we can really answer that personal question however we like.
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truly-twirls · 2 years
Text
Eat With Me - c. beomgyu
Tumblr media
Word Count: 1,496
Warnings: Food mention, Mental health, Depression, Disordered eating, Exhaustion, Overworking
Genre: Hurt/Comfort
Characters: Choi Beomgyu
AO3 Link
🌱🌱🌱
“So…are we gonna talk about yesterday?”
It was a dreaded question, but it was one that you knew wouldn’t be avoided forever.
“I don’t know how to explain it.”
That was a lie. You hated lying to your boyfriend, but you believed that if you began to spill your inner thoughts, you’d shatter like a glass cup.
“That’s okay–” Beomgyu shuffled closer to where you sat on the couch and placed an arm around your shoulders. “Tell me the bits and pieces that you do understand, then we can try and put them together, yeah?”
Oh, where would you start?
Would you start with the fact that ever since you graduated high school three months ago all you did was work? 
And then when the opportunity came to you, a second job was added onto your schedule, leading to a daily agenda of waking up, going to work for 10+ hours, and coming back home to sleep?
Or do you say that you feel that you’ve been incredibly ungrateful to Beomgyu, who seems to be more than okay with delaying dates and rearranging his own schedule to fit yours?
Or what about this, you still find it incredibly hard to take proper care of yourself, despite being an adult, basic tasks still get the best of you sometimes. 
And such failures make your fears for the future even worse, because at this rate, would you even be able to survive for a week without someone reminding you to eat, or to take a nap, or to shower in the morning?
Maybe this conversation can be your opportunity to give Beomgyu, who has been nothing but patient and affectionate with you, a way out. He deserved better than this. Better than you. 
He needed someone who knows how to allot time for the other, to be able to properly reciprocate the love he gives.
It’s going to rip your heart to shreds, because in full honesty, you never felt more loved by anyone when Beomgyu came into your life. 
You just wish you knew how to express it, but of course, seven months into the relationship you knew it was too late to fix it.
You opened your mouth, with a heavy heart. “Gyu–”
“Y/N. Can I see your hands please?”
The question caused your train of thought to go awry, but your hands, that were originally busy messing with the loose threads of your shorts, moved closer to Beomgyu’s figure.
His arm that was securely wrapped around your shoulders carefully peeled itself off and joined the hand that was engulfing your own. 
Beomgyu lifted your hands and pressed soft kisses to them, not in place particularly, just featherlight drops of affection. You fought tears from welling up as you watched this.
“Gyu…I’m not sure…We should..”
“I’m not going to lie to you, baby, it hurts me tremendously to see you drained. I hear you crying yourself to sleep sometimes. I hear you talking to yourself in the bathroom.. I wasn’t oblivious but I didn’t want to mention it because I knew you’d feel embarrassed and might shut me out.”
Oh.. If that’s the case, then does he…?
“I only heard you talk to yourself in the bathroom once, but it was enough for me to not be able to watch you…to watch you slip away from me. It hurts, Y/N.” You could see your boyfriend was also fighting back tears as his grip on your hands tightened.
“Gyu, what’d you hear?”
“...You don’t think you deserve this, that you deserve me, or the life we’re going to live together.” 
Beomgyu’s breath hitched as he stumbled over his words, “Maybe I haven’t reass.. reassured you enough or maybe I could’ve tried harder to keep everything else neat while you were at work–”
“Baby, no.”
“..What? Was that not it either?.. Did I do something else wrong?”
You slipped your hands out of your boyfriend’s hands and placed them on either side of his neck, “I don’t think I could’ve asked for a better support system, a better lover, a better soulmate than you, Choi Beomgyu. I think–No, I know I haven’t been the best at expressing all these…thoughts but they do exist. I want you to feel as loved as you have made me feel. And I’m sorry that I began to prioritize work over spending time with you, not when you put so much effort into making me smile and laugh like there’s no tomorrow. I adore you, Gyu.”
At this point, both of you had silent tears flowing down your faces. It was one of those heavy conversations that neither of you were used to just yet. But for now, sitting in each other’s presence was enough to ease that ache.
A solid ten minutes passed as the two of you took some time to collect your thoughts and calm down from your confession.
“Yesterday… Your coworker called me saying you fainted on the job, that you were complaining of feeling nauseous beforehand.. Why didn’t you tell me? At the very least, I would’ve packed some medicine and extra water for you. Y/N, it scared me. Because I didn’t know anything prior to that, I thought something was horribly wrong.”
You felt so guilty. You were beating yourself up over the situation ever since the moment Beomgyu met you at the entrance to your home, frantic. But you had the nerve to simply say that you were fine and went to bed.
“I don’t want an apology, or a promise it’ll never happen again.. Just please tell me what happened.” Beomgyu leaned his head on your shoulder.
You cleared your throat, gathering up the courage to vocalize your troubles, “I don’t think I ate or drank water for 36 hours or so.. I couldn’t bring myself to do it. I’m so tired all the time, I’m surprised I have enough in me to drive every day. I thought I could handle another two hours before coming home for dinner but.. I guess not. At least.. At least I know my limit now, yeah?”
It was a poor attempt to lighten the mood, but you were about to suffocate from the energy around you, the guilt combined with the exhaustion really caught up with you during this conversation and you wanted to simply disappear into a black hole. 
Especially with the look Beomgyu was giving you.
“Okay.. Thank you for telling me..” He got up from the couch and walked towards the kitchen.
“What are you doing?”
“Just stay there and pick a movie. I’ll be a minute.”
Still disconcerted, you picked up the nearby remote and looked through a list of movies and shows on your watchlist, ultimately settling on a cheesy-looking family sitcom.
About twenty minutes into the show, Beomgyu joined you on the couch again with two plates and two water bottles.
You looked at the plates and they were simple sandwiches decorated with small flowers, random pieces of heart confetti, and a smiley face drawn with a sharpie on the napkin.
“I can’t force you to eat, or to drink water, or anything like that. It’s wrong and pushy. But I want to encourage you to do those things even when you feel like you might cry while doing so. I refuse to watch you drift away knowing I could’ve been there for you. So this is the best I can offer, Y/N L/N. Eat with me.”
“Eat with me for every meal, whether it’s in person or through FaceTime, if it’s a three course meal or a quick snack. If it’s at the crack of dawn or in the middle of the night. Eat with me, and I’ll convince you to live out your life to the best it can be. Because, my god, Y/N you deserve so much happiness and I want to see you smile every second of every day. But we’ll take it slow, and I’m not going anywhere. Not even if you think I deserve better.”
You had been holding your water bottle the entire time, too teary eyed to properly take a sip and now the droplets from the condensation were sliding down your wrist. Similar to how salty tears were sliding down your cheeks yet again.
You didn’t want to accept the situation at first, this wasn’t how you thought tonight was going to go. Not by a long shot.
But like your boyfriend, who loved you so much, said: You’ll take it slow, force yourself to take pride in the smallest of victories, and watch as you improve.
You didn’t respond with words, you knew you couldn’t in this state, so you leaned against Beomgyu and finally sipped some water. 
You felt a kiss on the top of your head and, “I’m proud of you, love.”
Everything will soon begin to heal. It’s going to be alright. 
One day at a time.
🌱🌱🌱
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daddyy333 · 2 years
Text
Family | Eddie Munson x y/n
if you’d like you can reblog my original work, but please don’t post it without credit. if you take inspiration from my ideas please tag me, I’d like to see how someone else would write it
TW: ABUSE, ABUSIVE PARTNER, PREGNANCY, UNPLANNED PREGNANCY, MENTIONS OF UNWANTED PREGNANCY/BABY, ABORTION, MORNING SICKNESS, HINTS AT EATING DISORDER (?) CAR CRASH, MENTIONS OF SUICIDE/SUICIDAL THOUGHTS
Word count: 7.2k
summary: Eddie and the group take care of you as you come out of your abusive relationship and then find out you have a baby on the way
y’all I am sincerely sorry for how long this got and how long it took to write and the fact that this is only a part one but uhm yea this took a week to write so I’ll see you in a momth for part 2 💀
Part 2
Part 3
Part 4
“Ed-Eddie- Eddie please, I-I need you- he’s gonna k-kill me! God damn it- pick up yo- y-your phone- ahh! No, n-no please-” you whisper-screamed into the phone, until your boyfriend found you in your hiding spot in the linen closet. He snatched you up, throwing the phone across the room and then, throwing you.
“You dumb, stupid whore!” He screamed, kicking you so hard you felt your ribs breaking. You cried and cried, having no choice but to take the beating because of course you’re dating an abusive 6’4 grizzly bear for a boyfriend.
You had been dating (for all intents and purposes) for the last 3 years and it had been the worst 3 years of your life. It was okay for a few months but by the time you were 6 months into the relationship you had been forced to cut everyone off and you were buying more and more makeup than you knew what to do with to try and cover the bruises.
You had to cut everyone off, including Eddie. Especially Eddie. Adam, your “boyfriend”, hated how close you were with Eddie. He didn’t like how happy Eddie made you in comparison to him so he beat you till you could barely move your fingers enough to type out the text telling him you didn’t want to be in his life anymore.
You cried non stop for months, Eddie never knew about the abuse but he was just such a good person and was always te for you and always loved you and protected you when he could and you never ever imagined a life without Eddie in it. But when Adam started threatening to kill the people in your life, you had to cut them off to keep them safe.
And even here, lying in a puddle of your own blood, wheezing, barely able to hear, or see, you stand by the decision. Even on death's doorstep, you would’ve gone through it all a thousand times to protect him and everyone else in your life.
Eddie went over the speed limits 20 miles to get to you, falling to his knees and sobbing once he found you. He was sure you were gone. You weren’t breathing, he couldn’t find a pulse, and your lips were blue and your skin was getting paler all ready. He called 911 anyway. He had to try.
He didn’t know how, or why, but you made it. You woke up a few hours later, you told the cops everything and talked to Eddie for quite some time. You two hadn’t seen each ot in years, and came to find out this was the reason why. Believe me, Eddie was pissed he didn’t try harder to figure out why you weren’t talking to him anymore.
You didn’t say much after that night, and 3 weeks later you were okay enough to live out of your car, so you did. You left Eddie again, not wanting to be a burden to him any longer and started living in your car. You went back to work at the mall, making just enough to survive since you were working as a manager at one of the high end stores.
Yea, life sucked but it was okay for the time being whilst you healed the physical and mental wounds Adam left you with and got your life back. That was until, you were throwing up 1,000 times a day and couldn’t breathe without smelling something that made you nauseous. Not to mention, your boobs hurt badly and were getting swollen like you were about to be on your period, which was super late.
Between the stress of recovering and the relief of no longer being with Adam anymore you didn’t realize you were late on your period. You were scared shitless, this was not the time to be having a baby, especially one with your abusive ex-boyfriend as the father. You felt so stupid, so reckless.
Of course, all the tests you took came back positive. You cried for hours, called in sick at work and it got to the point we you were genuinely contemplating suicide. You knew you couldn’t afford the appointments and the clothes and the diapers, much less the actual baby and you didn’t even have a home. You’d probably end up giving birth in your car, it’d be a disaster and you couldn’t fathom letting an innocent little baby being born into that kind of shitty life.
You did as much research as you could, and you realized you would never be able to afford an abortion. You didn’t have insurance, so it would take forever to save the money and it was a lot more complicated and expensive the farther you got into the pregnancy. You had no choice but to have the baby, probably in your backseat, and probably leave it at a police station to hopefully go to a better family.
You cried nonstop the entire day, you felt like shit, and then you tried to eat and threw it up before you finished the meal and you genuinely felt like you hit rock bottom. You never imagined you’d be finding you were pregnant whilst living in your car barely 2 months after getting out of an abusive relationship that was so bad it almost got you killed at 22.
You thought you’d be in college right now, getting a journalism degree, sending and receiving letters from Eddie all the time, living the dream you’ve had since you were 15. Not this. Certainly not this.
Pregnancy really kicked your ass. You lost more weight than you could fathom, constantly skipping meals because every time you did eat it ended up in the toilet. You couldn’t afford new bras for a while and oh my god did that hurt like hell. You grew fast, it kinda scared you because eit you were farther along than you thought or this baby was gonna be pretty big compared to your small hips, which meant that giving birth was gonna tear you in half.
You were uncomfortable all the time, between the nausea, the sore boobs trapped in tight bras, your clothes being too small, your constant hunger yet persistent morning sickness, and your highly sensitive and emotional state, and your constant inability to sleep you were a complete wreck.
You were also starting to feel all the pain the pregnancy books mentioned, like the sore and uncomfortable feeling in your back, pressure in your hips and pelvis and the sore feeling in your stomach from the muscles getting torn apart for your stomach to grow. Your feet weren’t achy yet, which you were thankful for considering you were on your feet a lot at work.
However, about a month or so after you found out you were pregnant, you lost your job because the boss was sick of you always throwing up and being tired and always coming late and constantly asking if te was any way you could make some extra money or earn a raise.
You were actually kind of happy that day, you had scarfed down a breakfast burrito and didn’t throw it up, and you’d gotten a good amount of sleep last night.
You got through your day, no rude customers or anything, it was one of the best days you had in a while. That was until you were stopped by your boss on your way out. “Listen, uhm, I’m gonna have to let you go, y/l/n. I know you’re pregnant and everything, but you’re…a lot, okay? I’ve found someone better for the job so, uh, you’re fired” he said and you scoffed, tears filling your eyes.
You nodded and said “okay…uhm that's just- that’s awesome. It’s not like I need to eat to keep my baby alive or try to pay for an appointment to see if my child is healthy or anything like that. Fuck you, have a terrible rest of your day” You sniffled and threw your badge in his face and got out of te as fast as you could.
It’s 10pm, you worked the night shift for that asshole and all you wanted was to fucking punch him in his stupid face. You got to your car and just let it all out. You hadn’t cried once since the day you found out you were pregnant, after that you stopped letting yourself cry because it wasn’t worth your time and wouldn’t get you anywe but you couldn’t help it now. It was hard to suppress your emotions for so long, especially with all the hormones which made you wanna do nothing but cry most of the time.
If you hadn’t hit rock bottom before, you certainly had now. No job, no house, soon enough no car, and a baby on the way. You sobbed and sobbed, you couldn’t fucking believe this was happening. You should’ve known not to let yourself actually believe things were getting better. “Nothings ever actually going to get better, idiot” you thought.
You had nowhere else to go, the only person who might let you stay with them was Eddie, but you were sure after what you pulled a couple weeks ago he wouldn’t. Yet you still managed to get here, on his doorstep, a blubbering mess of tears and sobs.
“Y/n? O-Oh my god- what’s wrong, are you okay?” He asked and you sniffled. It was raining now so you were soaking wet, shivering a little. You shook your head and said “no- n-no, nothing i-is okay, I-I…I n-need somewhere to- to stay p-please” “of course, yea, come in quick…come in…it’s okay, breathe, relax. You’re okay, I got you” he said and you whimpered, trying to get to his bathroom.
“Alright, alright relax, try to breathe for me. I’m gonna grab you some clean clothes and you go ahead and take a shower, I already took a shower and Uncle Wayne is still out working for a while so use up as much hot water as you need” he said and you nodded. He wiped your tears away, not without you initially flinching first, and said “try to calm down for me, okay. I’ll make you dinner, what do you want?”
“W-Whatever you h-have is fine” you said and he sighed. He kissed your head and said “okay, the water is nice and warm. Hurry and get in, I don’t want you to get sick” You nodded and closed the door, letting out a shaky breath. You got your clothes off, finally being able to breathe without the bra squeezing your chest and your pants squeezing your bump.
You didn’t take too long in the shower, you just rinsed off and warmed up some and found what appeared to be one of his tight fitting shirt on the toilet seat, which worried you because he didn’t exactly know you were pregnant yet, the shirt you were wearing before was a little more your size but still hid your bump enough that it wasn’t obvious. He also left you a pair of shorts and he must’ve ran to the store really quickly cause he left a pack of panties too.
“Hey, hi, are you feeling better? I ordered pizza it’ll…be- be here soon…” he said, his eyes glued to your bump. He blinked a few times and smiled at you, offering a glass of water. You took it carefully and quietly said “just ask, Eddie…”
“Y-You’re pregnant? Like for real?” He said and you sniffled. You nodded and he said “how many months?” “I-I have no idea…I can’t afford an appointment and I don’t know how to figure it out for myself. My best guess is probably 4 months or so” you said and sat down at the tiny little “dining table” that was more for decoration than practical use.
He nodded and said “is uhm…is it…his?” “Yea…yea it is” you said and sighed shakily, looking down at the floor. You felt like a failure, Eddie was probably figuring out how to get you out of e as soon as possible.
“I uhm…got fired. And I’m living in my car, which I won’t have for much longer if I don’t start making money again to pay it off. I’m trying to save for an appointment but I don’t think I’m gonna be able to hold onto that money for much longer. I didn’t want to come e and bot you with this and be anot thing on your overly full plate but I just…I don’t have anywe else to go,” you said and tears filled your eyes again, your lip trembling.
He bent down in front of you, cupping your cheeks and wiping the tears away. He took a few deep breaths with you and said “it’s okay, y/n. I’ll always welcome you with open arms no matter what. God, every day since you left I’ve been waiting to see you again, to make sure you’re okay. You can stay here as long as you need to, I’ll take care of you. I promise. You’re not a burden or a bot or whatever the hell, you’re family, y/n. Family takes care of each other”
You looked away, trying not to burst into sobs but it didn’t help. “Hey, hey it’s okay…can I hold you?” He asked and you sniffled, nodding. Eddie quickly pulled you up so you were standing and wrapped his arms around you, letting you bury your head into his chest. You cried and cried and cried, you just kept remembering all the things Adam did to you and how much you’ve been going through and all the suppressed feelings were coming up with a vengeance.
He held you tight, kissing your head and rubbing your back. “E-Eddie…” you whimpered, struggling to breathe a little. He shushed you softly, he wanted you to just let everything out and relax a bit. “It’s okay, y/n. I’m here, I got you. Let everything out, relax. We’ll stand here as long as we need to” he said and you sniffled, nuzzling into his chest and fully wrapping your arms around him now.
You hadn’t been hugged like this in years, literal years. Hell, you really hadn’t been hugged much at all, Adam made sure he was the only person in your life and that you had no one else to be with or run to except for him.
“You’re okay, y/n…I got you” he whispered soothingly, resting his chin on your head. You let out a shaky breath, whimpering softly. Someone knocked on the door and you pulled away slightly, looking up at Eddie.
“I’ll get it, why don’t you get comfy on the couch?” He said and you nodded, smiling a little. You curled up on the couch, taking a deep breath as you watched Eddie bring two plates over as well as the box of pizza. He left and came back again with two beers and you chuckled softly.
He stuck his hand out with a beer in it towards you and when you shook your head, making him confused. “What, you don’t drink anymore?” He asked and you looked down at your bump, then back at Eddie. He gasped and said “crap- I’m sorry. You can’t drink while you’re pregnant?” “Nope…” you said and he shook his head.
“And that’s why I thank god everyday that I am not a woman” he said, bring you a bottle of water instead. You chuckled and he gave you a slice of pizza, and pulled out one of your favorite movies to watch toget. (I can’t think of a movie Eddie would be into from the 80’s)
You slowly ate the slice, not wanting to get nauseous but also not wanting Eddie to know how little you eat, he would definitely lose his shit if he knew how bad things were. He handed you a second slice and you shook your head, already feeling like crap from trying to focus on not getting nauseous.
“Come on, you’re eating for two, eat another slice,” he said and you hesitantly took it, getting more nervous by the second. You tried to focus on the T.V but after two bites you couldn’t handle it and ran to the bathroom to throw everything up.
Eddie followed you, holding your hair and rubbing your back. “This is uhm…this normal, I think. Pregnant people they…they throw up a lot cause…cause they’re pregnant” he said, trying to figure out how to be comforting.
You groaned and said “ye- fuck- yes, that’s what- shit-” you just kept on throwing up, not able to get a single sentence out. He cringed slightly, but you didn’t see it and he wouldn’t have done it if you could, but it was a little gross.
You sat back, wiping your mouth and flushing the toilet with your foot. He chuckled and handed you a little wad of toilet paper. You whimpered softly, placing a hand on your achy stomach. “What- what, do you have to throw up more?” He asked and you shook your head.
You sniffled and said “no, no I’m fine…I-I just…ugh I feel like shit now” You started tearing up, damn these fucking pregnancy hormones. You took a deep breath and said “do you have any extra toothbrushes laying around? Actually nevermind, I have one in my car”
“I’ll get it, I’ll be right back” he said and stood up, and sped off quickly. You closed your eyes, letting out a quiet sob. This was not supposed to fucking happen. You had stopped trying to get away from Adam because you knew deep down that unless he killed you there was no getting away from him so there was nothing left to do other than give up.
That was until, you saw a corroded coffin poster and had to go, you had to at least get a glance at Eddie for the first time in years. You did and Adam decided to come home early which meant he found out and that was the night he got arrested. You hadn't told Eddie that, and you didn’t plan on it because you knew it would break him.
“here,” he said and handed you a toothbrush. You brushed your teeth and he left you alone again, and sat down in the living room. He felt so bad for you, he wanted to hold you forever and just keep whispering that it was gonna be okay until it was. He put the pizza away, at some point in highschool or throughout his life he’d also heard that smells make a pregnant person nauseous as well.
You came back, your face all red and slightly puffy again as you curled into the corner of the couch. “Do you uhm…do you have to eat again….or uhm, w-what-” he said and you sighed. You ran your hands through your hair and said “I’m fine, I don’t want to eat again, I just uhm…I’ll be fine, thanks”
“Ok…” he said and sat next to you again, continuing the movie. You knew he wanted to ask about we you’ve been, if you’re keeping it, he probably had a million questions to ask you.
“We can uhm…we can talk about it now if you want to” you said and he nodded. He played with his hands nervously and said “where uhm…where have you been?” “I was living in my car…it’s not the safest or the most comfortable but I need to spend as little money as I can” you said and he nodded, a little sad knowing you were living in your car this whole time when he would’ve gladly let you stay with him for the rest of your life.
You sighed shakily, trying to stay relaxed and calm. “Is the baby healthy?” He asked and you shrugged. You chuckled and said “I have no clue, I can’t afford an appointment, remember” He nodded, giving a sad smile knowing you were struggling so much.
You sniffled and said “I…uhm I’m gonna have to give the baby away. I’ll probably leave at a police station or something, but I’ll never be able to take care of them the way they deserves” “You have to give it up, or you want to? You can tell me if you don’t want it. But if you do, I want you to know that we will make this work. You’ve always wanted to be a mom, y/n, ever since we were kids you’ve always been eager to take care of your baby cousins and the neighbors kids. Being a mom is something you undoubtedly were made to do. I know these circumstances aren’t ideal and you’re allowed to not be ready and to not wanna have this baby. But do you?” He asked and you sniffled.
You wiped a stray tear away and said “I-I have to…” “y/n….” He said and a few tears rolled down your face. He scooted closer and grabbed one of your hands. He held it tight as he said “do you want to have the baby you are carrying right now? I’m not gonna judge you for what you choose, and I’ll support you and take care of you either way”
There was a few moments of silence, your sniffles and whimpers the only sounds in the room along with the faint noises of the movie you were supposed to be watching. You looked up at him again and nodded as you said “I-I want to keep it s-so bad…I- I-I do…but I just- I can’t afford it, esp-especially since I’m fucking jobless now. And this- this baby- I can’t force them into a life as shitty as this, they’re better off w-with someone e-else”
Your tears had increased now that you were really saying it out loud and Eddie’s heart broke. “Hey, hey don’t say that. You and I - we can do this. You can live here for the rest of your life if need be and I will help you raise your baby and I will be here for you in every way I can and I will be the very best fucking uncle on the planet” he said, making you laugh slightly.
You sniffled and said “do you-…d-do you really th-think this could work? I mean- I-I-” “hey, if it’s what you want we'll make it work, okay? I want you to be happy, I want you to be the mom you’ve always wanted to be” he said and you nodded weakly.
You closed your eyes, trying to stop more tears from coming as you said “I am…I-I’m gonna keep this baby. O-Oh god,” He smiled and you chuckled softly, him giving a soft, reassuring squeeze to your hand.
You yawned and he said “you tired? Come on, I’ll get you nice and comfy in the bed and I’ll take the couch” “what? No, Ed’s this is your house” you said and he sighed. He stood up and said “it’s your house too, it always has been whether you needed it or not. And, you’re pregnant so if anyone deserves the bed it’s you, you’re sleeping for two now so you need to be as comfy as possible”
You just chuckled quietly to yourself, following Eddie into his room. He made the bed for you, putting on fresh sheets so you wouldn’t have to sleep on spilled beer and hot sauce all over the mattress. “Thank you, Eddie. For putting up with all this. I know I can…be a lot sometimes but you’ve always dealt with it, I couldn’t ask for a better bestfriend” you said and he smiled.
He turned on a fan and said “you’re not too much, y/n. I love taking care of you, I love seeing that pretty smile, it’s really not a problem” You gave him a soft smile, god you’d smiled more in the last hour and a half than you did in the last 3 years prior.
Yea, pregnancy still sucked after that. You found another job within two weeks and it paid decent considering you were now a waitress. Eddie had noticed your shrinking frame, besides the bump of course and hadn’t said anything yet, becuase he knew you couldn’t do anything about the morning sickness (morning sickness is a lie by the fucking way, and if you don’t think so tell that to y/n who woke up at 2am last night and damn near threw up all over the floor for no reason at all)
Anyways, you were supposed to meet the friend group today, after staying at Eddie’s for 3 weeks he’d had enough and insisted you had to, and you were really nervous. You kept feeling butterflies in your stomach, and they felt weirder than normal. Eddie had been so supportive, he’d bought every pregnancy book in sight and was helping you save for an appointment.
He would drive you to and from work, massage your feet for you after a long day and even try to help relieve any pressure in your back if you’d let him. He knew based off what he read that some women struggle to breathe as it is while being pregnant so when he realized that you were also squeezing your chest into a small bra he was adamant about getting you as many as he could afford so you weren’t uncomfortable.
He’d been dealing a lot, using it to go towards the appointment and buying you clothes, and stretch mark creams, and he’d even bought a few little onesies he saw that were too cute to leave behind. He loved every minute of it, he loved seeing you smile more and more everyday, because it meant you were getting better.
But still, you were still crazy nervous about meeting his friends. He talked about them all the time, and they sounded like good people but you hadn’t had good social interaction in a very long time. You two got in the car and he noticed how fidgety and tense you were.
“Hey, what’s wrong?” He asked and you shook your head. You sighed shakily and said “nothing it’s just…I-I’m nervous, that’s all” “don’t be…they’re gonna love you, and they’ll be excited they are getting a new member to the group again in a few months” he said and smiled at you, making you blush slightly.
He learned a lot more about what Adam had done to you as the weeks went on. A lot of late nights, and a lot of tears were shed to get there but those mini therapy sessions had you smiling more and more everyday. It was still pretty rare, but sometimes you’d forget about Adam and life felt like pure bliss for a moment.
You fell asleep on the way to the house so Eddie just carried you inside, making everyone relax because they still had some time to think about what they were gonna say and do. With your permission, Eddie had told them the basics of your situation and some of them nearly cried when they heard it. They just wanted to make you feel okay, make you feel comfortable.
“Don’t stare like that. No exotic animal staring, we talked about this” Eddie said as he tucked you in, kissing your bump and leaving you be. They all fidgeted nervously, eventually sitting back down wherever Eddie sat on the floor in front of you.
They fell into comfortable conversation, stopping whenever you made any small groan or movement. Eddie just chuckled at how careful they were, he knew you were fine, just uncomfortable because of the pregnancy and you’d fall right back to sleep in no time.
“Eddie…” you groaned, flipping over so you were on your back as your eyes fluttered open, your hands gently rubbing the sleep from them. He turned to look at you and said “hey, sleepy head. Are you okay?” “Yea, yea just…mmh” you said and stretched. You winced, scratching the itchy skin on your bump due to the skin stretching so much so fast.
“You’re on Steve’s couch by the way. You fell asleep in the car, and everyone’s getting pretty antsy and wants to talk to you” he said and your eyes shot open, you sat up so fast your heart practically stopped for a second as pain surged through your lower back.
“Ow- fuck! Eddie- god damn it why didn’t you wake me up?” You said and pulled Eddie’s your shirt down. You groaned, smoothing your hair down and Eddie chuckled. “H-Hi?” You said and they all waved or quietly said hi
It was the day after Christmas, so there were still tons of lights and a huge tree, and all kinds of Christmas decor. You looked down at your hands, picking at your nails nervously. “Guys…come on, say something” Eddie said, putting his hand on your lap so you could play with his rings and calm down.
Dustin took a deep breath and said “sleep well?” You nodded cautiously, feeling those butterflies again. They felt so weird and awfully strong, it was like there were real butterflies in your stomach.
“So like…there’s a real baby in there? Like, actually?” Robin asked and you chuckled. You looked down at your stomach and said “I hope so. I didn’t swallow a watermelon seed not to long ago so we’ll see” Eddie smiled, he was glad to see you weren’t stumbling over your words or anything, you seemed comfortable and relaxed.
You sighed and said “so uhm…w-what are your names?” They all said their names quietly, which made you wonder if they thought you were really fragile or something. “That’s…a lot” you said and Eddie stood up, sitting on the couch next to you.
“So like, you and Eddie?” Steve asked and Eddie rolled his eyes. He scoffed and said “god no, Steve. And you will not even try anything because if I find out I’m gonna kick your ass so hard you’re gonna be shitting your teeth out for a week. For fuck sake, she’s pregnant too, jsut cause she has a heartbeat doesn’t mean you have to date her”
You chuckled at the last part, but you’d be lying if you said that the way he said “god no, Steve” so fast didn’t hurt you. You’ve had a crush on him for years, and the hormones are probably making it stronger but you wished you were with Eddie everyday, and that when you gave birth in a few months you’d be holding Eddie’s left hand, both of your wedding rings shining as you brought your first kid into the world.
I mean, as of now you definitely weren’t ready for a relationship but they way he sounded so disgusted at the suggestion didn’t go unnoticed by you. “Ignore Steve, he’s a literal manwhore” Nancy said and you noticed Robin biting her lip as hard as she could trying not to laugh.
“Do you uh…know how to play D&D?” Dustin asked and Eddie shook his head. You shrugged and said “kinda? I’ve played games with Eddie over the years but I don’t know how I’d be now”
“Do you like Kate Bush?” Max asked and you nodded, you didn’t go out of your way to listen to her but you didn’t mind her music. They eventually started asking a million questions and soon enough Dustin and Steve went out to get everyone burgers and fries.
“So…Christmas just passed and uhm…you’re our new friend so we all got you some gifts” El said as her, Mike, and Will all carried them out. Your eyes widened and Eddie raised his eyebrows, he didn’t know about that.
You tried to tell them it was okay and you didn’t need anything, Eddie had to promise unlimited massages for the rest of the pregnancy just so he felt like he wasn’t doing something wrong by not giving you anything for Christmas.
Mike bought diapers, El bought a little onesies with Waffles all over it that had a matching pair of socks and a beanie, Will bought a little stuffed bear, Robin bought a bunch of cute little neutral outfits since you weren’t sure if it was a boy or a girl yet, Nancy and Jonathan bought a whole ass stroller which is when you started crying, Max bought a little music player that was supposed to help babies sleep, and when Dustin and Steve got back Dustin got it a pack of pacifiers that has little monsters all over it and Steve got it a few swaddles and blankets
“I…hate you guys,” you said, wiping your tears away as everyone laughed. Eddie chuckled, rubbing your back soothingly. You sniffled and said “at least it’s stuff for the baby and I’ll actually be able to use it” “yea, Eddie said you don’t really do gifts but we figured we could spoil the baby instead” Dustin said and you smiled.
You ate the best fucking burger of your life and they all asked more questions about the pregnancy, and also about you. You got up to get yourself more water, and noticed you still felt those butterflies from earlier.
“What’s wrong?” Eddie said as he came in and noticed you looking down at your bump like something was off. You looked up and said “nothing just…I’ve been feeling butterflies all day but I’m not really nervous any more, at least I can’t really tell if I am so I don’t know why it’s still happening”
“Butterflies? Are you sure they aren’t kicks?” He asked and you shook your head. You drank some of your water and said “no, no it can’t be. This is my first baby, I’ll probably feel them in a couple weeks, it’s a little early for me to be feeling kicks and stuff”
“That’s for most women. Maybe you’re special. Maybe your baby is kicking and you're an idiot” he said and you smacked his arm playfully. You chuckled and felt the butterflies again, making you start to wonder.
You lifted your shirt, pressed against your stomach and noticed a faint little twitch in your bump, as well as that butterfly feeling again. “Oh my god- wait, Eddie I think you’re right. Look, look,” you said and grabbed his hand, pressing it to your bump.
“Woah…that’s weird,” he said and you chuckled. You showed him how you could kinda see it too and he was like “dude, that baby is totally kicking…Jesus Christ we have got to get you to an appointment” “we actually can…I thought we had to pay a lot but we actually have more than enough for the appointment. Almost the amount for 2” you said and he smiled, he was really freaking excited, his kid or no.
The gang found out about the kicks, and they flipped out too, Dustin thought it was pretty cool and Steve thought it was pretty freaky that there was a real human in there. You totally crashed on the way home, Eddie was beaming at the fact that you did so good today and you weren’t super anxious for the most part, and you bonded so well with everyone.
He was so happy that you could finally go to an appointment, he literally called the doctors all by himself that night and got you an appointment for tomorrow. You were so happy when he told you, you felt so happy that you had that kind of person in your life who cared so much for you and you were especially glad that it was Eddie.
The next day, you ran a few blood tests and stuff, and after quite a while Eddie was waiting in the room with you for the ultrasound. “You think we can find out what it is?” He asked and you shrugged. He played with the ends of your hair as he said “what do you think it’s gonna be?”
“I feel like it might be a boy. I don’t really care though, I just want this baby to be healthy” you said and he nodded. Eventually when the doctor came in, you heard the heartbeat and literally burst into tears. Eddie couldn’t help his laughs, but he did struggle not to cry at the heartbeat. He was attached to this little baby too, he couldn’t wait to meet it.
“Ok…it looks like we’ve got a baby girl on the way. Look at those kicks, baby is very active at the moment” the doctor said and you sniffled. Eddie knew it was coming, you began to cry even more at the news that you were having a daughter.
Everything was pretty okay, but there were definitely some concerns which Eddie was gonna do his best to handle. The morning sickness was supposed to go away a while ago, and the doctors even believed that the reason you were losing more weight than you gained was because of the prolonged morning sickness. They prescribed some pills and medications that would hopefully help with it, and Eddie really, really hoped it would. The doctor told you not to worry too much, but he did want you to really make sure you try hard to improve it because it could be a problem in the future.
The baby was healthy, a little small but not too small to the point where it was putting her at risk. Eddie was just glad to know your little one was okay, he knew it would’ve been epically stressful for you if the doctor had given you really bad news.
Eventually you started really getting along with the group. You were closer to Steve and Robin, but the younger members were super fascinated by the kicks and the wriggles of your little girl so you spent plenty of time with them.
They’d even massage your feet for you when you asked, which you couldn’t help but take advantage of sometimes. Oh my god, and don’t get me started on how much they fed you. Ever since Eddie told them about how the doctor recommended you eat a little more, they’d been shoving food down your throat non stop. Every time you hung out with one of them, you ended up eating till you were absolutely stuffed.
One of your favorite moments was when you, Eddie, and Dustin were walking around getting baby clothes and stuff. You found a place selling burgers and stuff and had been complaining about how you were starving the whole way there. You then attempted to order a small combo and Dustin and Eddie threw a fit. You wanted the small combo cause it cost less but thing 1 and thing 2 weren’t having it and you absolutely had to get a large combo.
It took a while for you to be okay with asking them for the things you craved. You didn’t necessarily enjoy asking for food, period, so it was really big for them when you started asking for food of any kind.
They took care of you well, always making sure you were okay and the baby was okay. Every minor inconvenience caused by the pregnancy was taken care of, but you surely wouldn't dare to complain. “Hey, why are you awake?” Steve said and you groaned. You sighed and said “she’s kicking…a lot”
“Yea? You didn’t drink a whole lot of water before you went to bed did you?” He asked and you shook your head. “Have any caffeine today?” He asked. Again, no. “No, my kid is just a brat. I’m fine, Steve, really. Go back to bed” you said and he sighed.
Some of you had hung out and slept over at Steve’s house, and you knew you’d come to regret later considering this baby was super active at night. “No, you’re not fine. You should be sleeping. Is there anything I can do for you to help?” He asked and you shook your head.
You rubbed over the spot she was really kicking at and said “nope. Go back to bed, she’ll get tired eventually” He sighed, running a hand through his hair. He chugged a glass of water and said “if you aren’t up in time for work tomorrow I’m calling you in sick. No if, and’s, or but’s” You shook your head, acting scared as if that was a crazy punishment that would ruin your life.
The baby really liked Eddie, so sometimes he was stuck to your side all day long to keep her from kicking your ass. “Eds? Oh, please, please get over here” you said and he quickly ran to the bedroom in the trailer.
You sighed and said “please, just talk. If she hears your voice maybe she’ll stop” “oh- uhm…Hi, you know me. I hope so. I’m uh…uncle Eddie. I’ve been putting on all those super cool metal songs through the headphones for you to listen to. S-Start em’ young, you know?” He said and you groaned, grabbing his hands.
You placed them on your stomach where she wouldn’t stop kicking and took a deep breath, really hoping that she would just stop. She always kicks so much and nonstop, it’s honestly crazy. “Please…please….” You whimpered, you were trying to do laundry before this but the baby had a problem with that.
“I-I’m sorry” he said and was about to move away but you stopped him. You gasped and said “no wait, don't go…oh my god, oh my god you’re my savior” He chuckled, moving so he was more comfortable. He sat behind you, still keeping his hands on your bump and pulling you a little closer so you would rest against him and he could hold you.
You’d been getting closer with Eddie, when you first came to him you were terrified to be too close to him, let alone touch him. But now, a little side hug here and there felt okay. You really trusted him with your whole heart, which was big for him because he wanted you to have someone like that after Adam and for it to be him made him so freaking happy.
“You’re stuck here for the rest of your life” you declared, putting a hand over one of his as you smiled, feeling no harsh kicks from your little she-devil. Eddie chuckled, kissing your head. “How long was she at it for?” He asked and you sighed.
“I don’t remember really, but her kicks have been getting stronger and stronger the farther I get into this pregnancy and she was just trying to knock the wind out of me while I was doing laundry” you said and he sighed softly. You started folding up laundry and he said “glad I could be of service to you” “damn straight” you said and giggled.
However, things took a bit of a turn at the end of your 6th month of pregnancy. You started feeling weaker, and the meds weren’t working as well, and you got really dizzy sometimes. You didn’t want to freak Eddie out, so you didn’t tell him and hoped this was just some kind of fluke and it would pass.
But it didn’t, not at all. She kicked so much too, which kept you up night after night and you were finding it hard to sleep even if she wasn’t kicking up a storm. And it really became a problem when you were on your way to work and you passed out while driving.
yasss cliffhanger😝 (sike I just didn’t know how to end this and I was like “I need to do a second part this shit is getting too long omfg)
Eventually I’ll be writing for
Eddie Munson
Joseph Quinn
Jamie Bower
Steve Harrington
Robin Buckley
So just dm me the taglist you want to be added to and I’ll add you :)
taglist for this story: @and-claudia @localbxbby @silky-luxe @this-is-mycrisis
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vampirzina · 2 years
Text
Like a Dream ;
After being friends with Marc Spector since your childhood, you should’ve known better than to confess your love years later. Now he's run from you, it seems, and he's taken the entire friendship with him. But like a dream, everything is fine—what happens when everything isn’t in the waking world?
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Masterlist | AO3 | Table of Contents | Ch. 2 | Ch. 3
pairings: marc spector x reader (for now, probably).
rating: 18+
words: 3.2k
warnings/tags: swearing, gender neutral reader, angst, no emotional comfort, unrequited love, heartbreak, established relationship(s), friends to lovers, dissociative identity disorder, mental health issues, squeamish! reader, insomnia, humiliation, guilt, fear, violence, horror, stranger danger, weapons, blood, no smut.
did i get them all? anyway, if you’re fine with all that, enjoy. short a/n at the bottom
It's been three years since you last saw Marc Spector.
Three years since you confessed to him your feelings, and three years since he disappeared without a trace and left you without a response to your heart.
He doesn't visit anymore, let alone call or text. Honestly, you've given up on that now, you think. It’s no use waiting up for him, waiting like he would mysteriously have a need to reach out. Though you... Never deleted or removed his number.
Just in case he needs anything, you rationalize, but you know that's not the only reason for it, deep down in the pit of the box that is your emotions. You know it when you can't help but live in the past through the text messages and voicemails.
You know that you want him desperately to call you back. You want him to put it into words that he's letting you down or that he's going to love you back. If not that, you want him to let you know that he's still alive, and well.
Anything, anything at all to put your mind at ease. No matter what, you don't blame him—you never could bring yourself to be mad at Marc for captivating your mind the way he does late at night.
So curled up in your messy satin sheets, you lie awake in the darkness. Your mind is doing it again, thinking about Marc when he wasn't even thinking about you, you know for sure.
2:32 AM.
If you had work today, you'd be fucked, and you know this too; usually you'd have to turn up five and a half hours from now and you’ve gotten no sleep since you laid down three hours ago.
Not like it'd never happened to you before, dwelling on random times from the past to make yourself upset again.
It's not healthy that you're running around in circles over Marc, and you're tired, but you can't stop yourself. You're cold underneath the duvet of your tussled bed, but you're void of fever.
Even if you layer yourself underneath pounds of cover, even if you change your sheets, even if you abandon the mattress for a new, even if you uproot this whole room, move out—it's not enough. The humiliation will come crashing down all over again.
But the only place it can't reach you is your dreams.
Try as it might, that big mess-up never reaches you there, because it’s never happened. It never had the chance to get you and pull you in. So then, it had become the only place where you're not alone like the way you are left, because in your dreams, everything is fine.
Marc never left you without a trace. He stayed by your side; in most, he accepted your heart and you had that happy ending you're so desperately chasing and trying to cling unto.
In others, you saw him again, but he had someone to call his own already. Of course, you would be happy for him if it were ever to be true; but with no way to confirm it and lay this haunting guilt to rest, you could only have hope.
You shut your eyes, feeling the pale light of the moon blanket your face, but only for a moment.
You can't sleep now. Your body pushes and pushes, but your mind won't let you. The only thing left to do is to wait it out, as you've always did when the nights got hard like this.
It's not always like this, though. Sometimes, you do get to have a good nights' rest. Other times, were times like this where you daydreamed a little too hard before bed and delved deep into this state of mind. You swore each time afterwards that you'd get it right and stop fantasizing before bed.
Swinging your legs over the edge of your bed, you get up and shuffle to the kitchen of your apartment. If you couldn't sleep, you'd at least find something to do in the meantime until you could fall asleep...
Whenever that was.
You figured you'd just grab a quick snack and put on a nice movie or show, and then maybe fall asleep that way. Well, you figured it, because when you grabbed the cereal box that you were craving, it felt light in your hands. And when you opened it, you got just what you expected.
Emptiness.
You curse inwardly, throwing your head back in annoyance at the dust of the cereal once there. Even though you had the right intentions of just distracting your head with something else get crushed swiftly, all hadn't gone completely down the drain.
It's just a missed shopping trip. You should have gone when you had that other day off last week, but for whatever reason you cannot seem to remember right now. The bottom line was that you didn't go, and now you're out of cereal and probably many other things as well.
Going through the cupboards and the fridge, you try to sift out what is missing, empty or still uneaten, and it's not as much as you like it to be at first. It should be enough for you.
After the inventory of your leftovers, you decided that it wasn't enough, actually. You’re willing to make that trip to some corner store or something somewhere to get that snack.
So you toss the rotten, and repacked the still-good without another thought. You don't bother add much bling to your sleepwear or redress entirely, because you won't be out very long.
It's the middle of the night, and you have enough common sense to be indoors while the streets of the city do it's thing during these hours. Just for now though, you won’t mind it, or at least try not to.
A cardigan over the top and some comfortable shoes suffice. It's not much, but it gets the job done and stays a perfect go-to.
Just a quick trip, you shut the door to your apartment with your keys and wallet in your pockets. If you could recall, there's a corner store that stays open for most of the night.
It's a nice shop, in the daytime. There’s the nice lady at the counter and customers who mind their business. You don’t go there much, but when you do, she’s always there… And it’s always the daytime.
Obviously that would be different now. It’s almost three in the morning and it would be eerily quiet in and around it, except for the one or two bumbling person that come in every other hour. You’ve heard what transpires here sometimes at night from the lady, and why she could no longer take the night shifts as well.
You could go to the one that’s further down, but that’s putting yourself even more at risk. Besides, with your situation right now, all you really needed was a few things, right? You wouldn’t be long enough for someone to pull something on you.
You tuck your arms in your cardigan and continue down the sidewalk. It wasn’t all that empty once you could see, with the very few still out and about. The warm hue of the streetlights illuminated them, and the path—and it’d also illuminate the alleys where god-knows-what lurked.
It came as no surprise when you’d see the shop up ahead with just a few minutes of walking. the contrast of light to the street lamps making it stand out in the rows of closed shops next to it.
Normally it’s a relief to see it, but you were wary once you saw that there was a man posted outside, a leg kicked up against the brick border of the glass. It didn’t help at all that it was night.
He smoked rather dramatically, cartoonishly, almost. He took long drags of the cigarette between chapped lips, and puffing out clouds of smoke the size of your head at impossible intervals. His lungs should be destroyed beyond repair the way he’s smoking like it’s running away from him, you guessed.
You’d didn’t smoke and you wouldn’t, but you know that whoever he was, he looked rough. He deserved to be left alone as much you… Minding your business is key, you decide. You’re not some hero and never will be.
You caught yourself staring at him in skepticism when he’d give you a glance. Quickly, you averted your eyes elsewhere and went up to the door. Not a word of confrontation left your mouth to the male as you entered the shop with pace, and the bell jingles as you swing the door open.
The place didn’t have any customers. Maybe not tonight, but skimming the aisles, the evidence of there being people here throughout the day was still here. Silently, you thank the clerk for even staying open when there’s no one but that strange man outside.
You browse until you find a bag of chips; they were in a much smaller portion than you’re usually picking up at the store had you went on that shopping trip like you were supposed to, but you make do with what you have.
Your hands grab a few bags of those and then some that’s caught your eye, until your hands are full of bags of snacks. Some you know, some you’ve never had before, and for the whole proportion? A bottle of your favorite soda. It’s uneven, you know, but this should last you a while.
With a sigh, you splay your selection onto the counter of the checkout in one motion. The teenage cashier just barely looks up from his phone at the snacks, and then you.
“…Sorry,” you apologize meekly, but you smile. “I went a little crazy on the snack selection and you’ll probably have to make more shipment orders for some. Won’t happen again.”
That wasn’t a promise from you… Not as long as you were wallowing in whatever funk thinking of Marc has you in again tonight. It’ll subside, yes, but for now it is what it is. The cashier steps off the stool with a bounce.
Wordlessly, he begins to scan the snacks. Satisfied with yourself and your picks, you decide to look elsewhere to help the kid behind the counter not feel so watched.
Thus, it led you to check on the man outside and it has you double taking—he’s gone. Not there. And during the time you were in the aisles, you hadn’t heard the bell jingle either… No, you didn’t. That feeling of wariness is back again, and your eyebrows stitch together in uneasiness.
Play it safe and just go straight home. For the love of god, please just play it safe. Don’t get curious anymore than this.
“Your total is twenty even,” the cashier said, making you shift your attention back to him. He’d press a few more buttons before awaiting the cash you were fumbling to pull from your wallet. Then, with a nod, “There.”
He took it and tucked it away into the register, touching another button to get the receipt printing.
Ripping the long slip out of the machine, he stuffs it in the bag and hands it to you. “Thank you so much,” you give a wider grin this time to him, taking the bag in your hands and leaving the store.
The cooler breeze of the outdoors wafted over your form in waves, and settles when you walk further into the night. You wanted to be chill, just relax and take in this breath of fresh air while you could, but… You had a feeling you were being watched, doing so.
Quickening your pace, you only look over your shoulder every now and again… Only to see nothing. Again, and nothing. Then frequently. You were going mad, it felt like.
And with every look over, drew a firm bang of something, somewhere, around you where you couldn’t see it… Timed. Hiding in the darkness. Near… Close.
Then, the terrifying pressure of the noises keeping you running stops in the alley you were about to pass.
You don’t know why you stopped either—you were petrified, is what you quickly registered as you stared down the pitch black alleyway. You don’t know why you can’t move.
Panting from fear, adrenaline and the running, your heart was competing in the Olympics with how fast it was beating to keep you still standing.
You were terrified to see what was hiding in the darkness, should it show itself… If it wanted you.
Another bang; you step back and your hand flies to your mouth.
…It’s silent.
All at once, the sounds of scuffling cats fill your ears. Gasping, you barely make it out of the way before they’re barreling towards you and then all is scattering—you’ve spooked them just as much as they’ve spooked you.
And… A rat? The impossible sized rodent bounds out of your way as well in the opposite direction with a slice of pizza just a big as it. It’s huge, but how could it ever surprise you? This is New York. Shaking, your arms goes limp and drop from your face as you pant in slight relief. You could cry, but you dare not.
You back up, and bump into a wall that quickly wraps arms around you and covers your mouth before you could scream.
The ‘wall’… No, man, coos into your ear for you to hush and stop as you drop your bag to resist. “You don’t want a fight, sweetheart,” the voice is raspy, hoarse. The smell of smoke residue is strong on his hands.
You might not want a fight, but you were raised better.
Bringing the full force of your foot onto his own, he reels backwards in pain—far enough for you to remove the callous hand and, with the loudest you’ve ever been in the past year, a scream escapes your throat.
“Whore!” the man said through gritted teeth. He’s pissed now, those same rough hands pushing and shoving you into the alley.
He shoves you so hard that you fall back onto your bottom, quickly unsheathing a knife from his windbreaker as he scrambles to subdue your fighting form on the cold alley floor.
Now that you could see him, you recognize him as the man who was smoking outside of the shop. You had no idea when he came or when he left, but all that mattered now was that he was definitely going to kill you now that you screamed. You could only hoped someone had heard that cry for help.
Normally that would have scared the attacker off. But this guy, he was bold yet barely burly in stature like you’d thought he’d be underneath his layers of clothes. You were too shaky, scared for your life now to actually save yourself, and you felt pathetic.
Fuck, if you weren’t so afraid of him stabbing you, you would have tried to fight harder than you were right now. The apartment complex was only across the crosswalk next to this place, and you were going to die here.
In the middle of an alleyway. Alone.
You flinch and squeeze your eyes shut as he lifted the knife to strike you, but the pain never arrives. Maybe it has already, and you’re already dead—maybe if you open your eyes you’ll see heaven before you. This is it.
The sound of liquid spatters, on the ground next to you and a bit on your neck, face and clothes. Then, a thump to your left, as you feel suddenly lighter… Like the weight on you had suddenly been lifted, physically.
Opening your eyes, you stare up at the stars first, the moon just barely in your line of sight. It slowly dawns on you that you are, in fact, alive and staring up at the night sky. But where did the man go? He was just…
Heaving still, you sit up and it doesn’t take much looking to know where he’s gone, and you began to feel lightheaded at the sight beside you, against the brick wall.
The attacker had slumped on it next to you, unconscious or what you feared, dead. Eyes wide, you look around again but you don’t have the opportunity to let your eyes wander in wonder when the familiar voice you know all too well says your name and is already by your side.
…Marc? You have to be dreaming.
“Are you okay? Talk to me, I’m here, are you okay?” Marc breathily speaks, quivering hands reaching up to cup your dazed face.
He looks weird—different—you don’t know if this is really… Him, that you’re looking at. He’s dressed in white wrapping and gold, and you had seen a hood and a mask to match before he’d taken it off, almost like magic. He had come running up to you and kneeling beside you in that same suit, apparently not bothered to take it off.
You’re too dazed to give a proper answer.
Too much is happening at once. Between the attack, the suddenness of the man bleeding on the floor beside you, Marc coming back to you and these strange circumstances, it’s all too much to process at once.
“This is… This is too much…” you begin to shake your head, pushing a glassy-eyed, concerned Marc away to give yourself space. You wobble to stand up.
“Fir–first… First this and then… Marc? Is that really you? And you… Did you?” your eyes flicker between the bloodied crescent blade next to his hand and the unconscious man.
There was no way that this was your Marc; the same Marc who’d laugh with you until you cried from it. The same Marc who you were missing, your head turned, flipped upside down over, and spent sleepless nights anticipating when he’d stop running from you.
“Look, I can explain, just calm–”
“Not right now… Not right now,” you say pleadingly, blinking. “Don’t explain anything to me right now. He’s bleeding out, you’re actually here, I’m feeling funny, I… I just want to go home, I…”
You feel a damp spot on your neck, the drop trickling off your neck and soaking the hem of the back of your shirt. Pausing in shock, you raise hand to hesitantly feel the spot on the back of your shoulder.
That doesn’t feel like… Water.
You feel another spot, this time on the bone of your brow. You look down at your fingers when you wish you hadn’t.
Blood. The attackers blood. It’s on you, and he’s probably dead right now from the loss of blood. You weren’t itching to find out if he was or wasn’t… Instead, you felt dizzy just staring at the red that painted your fingertips and a bit of your nails as it stained your fingers.
You couldn’t stop yourself from freaking out after that. Your breath was coming out short, and your eyes were wide with the realization. Warningly, you heard your name and saw Marc begin to get up and come towards you, worry still painted on his face despite his firm tone.
“Blood. Oh my god, it’s blood… This is… This is his blood, and it’s on me. He’s dead, you killed him, and his blood it’s…”
You remember collapsing as your body gives way to what feels like sleep, at last. This has to be another dream… Because like that world in your mind when you slept, you saw Marc again. Yet something was amiss, here, not like a dream.
Like a nightmare.
You hoped you would wake up to your reality soon and it was all just nothing but a nightmare.
notes: slowburn, part 2 for happy ending, or let it be as a oneshot? let me know what you want if you liked this. i know it’s not wednesday yet, but i wanted to give this a chance for feedback so i can work it into the schedule if so
Masterlist | AO3
want to be a part of the taglist for this series? let me know in the replies ☻
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raceweek · 2 years
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whats ur top 5 underrated alex moments or pieces of alex lore? im trying to expand my collection xx
oh my god okay five????? okay okay. so watch me remember like all of my underrated alexlore moments tomorrow instead of now but to give it my best effort:
im starting off light with The Original Alex Noise. i cant leave it out, it deserves its own category. the moment that created alex noises as a concept. all hail The Original Alex Noise
2018 as a whole like the lore of starting the f2 season with almost no financial backing, racing on a race by race basis, waiting to hear until the tuesday or wednesday of a race week that dams hadn’t found someone with enough money to replace him with and okay he can fly out to compete and not only doing okay but getting poles and winning races and being in the championship fight with that amount of uncertainty and against lando and george and nyck of all the competition is insane and then. kris jenner voice. just calling helmut marko up and over the course of the sochi 2018 race weekend being so impressive that he turned a hard don’t even ask into an f1 seat. like??? literally one of the only drivers in recent times to get to f1 without an academy or significant financial backing. incredible. amazing. can drive very well. will hurt anyone who claims otherwise
as a general george subheading because. well. im a cheater: the alex and george basically living together for 2017 needs a mention like george eating more meals at alexs house than alex, The Great Mountain Biking Incident of 2017, The Throat Infection Incident of 2019, The 45 Minute Phone Call After Hockenheim Passing Mention (buried in a stream but i can call up if requested), The Publication of N*des Request of New Years 2020. The Are You Going To Answer My Calls Now of 2021. mad lore. absolutely mental and that’s like. a hundredth of it
i mean. a lot of patrick and alexs relationship. like patrick gaining qualifications in mental coaching during alexs struggles with his mental health in 2020 is YEAH. but this particular podcast particularly is maybe an advanced lore staple to me. please don’t listen to it if you struggle with disordered eating or with descriptions of weight, i did a mini snip of one of my fave bits of it here if you want to listen to a part without any fear of being triggered. but yeah i feel like patrick is so so so expressive with how he talks about alex it’s really nice
under a general lily alex origin theme: alex getting stuck in a gate the first time he ever met lily (coincidentally also whilst he was on a lads holiday with george. rip to those plans) which is just so classically alex like. bro. and lily telling alex on their first date that she hates boring boxed roses which alex remembered and so he gets her personalised bouquets with notes. and then this first polaroid that i stumbled upon on my blog is what i would like to end this whole journey on bc im not sure how else to end this on okay byyyyyyyyeeee xxxxx
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catherinekal · 9 months
Text
How to Love Yourself
Lets talk about how to love yourself.
Why?
Well here’s why. I want to talk about many topics related to mental health and bettering your life. A process I’ve been slowly trying to do for my own life and no sense keeping any advice I’d have to myself. To even begin the process though you have to tackle what is the most important, the most central, the core of all positive mental health.
You have to love yourself.
Ok so here’s the thing. I have typed almost 7000 words about what is probably the most important thing you can do for your mental health. It’s also one of the most difficult things to do for a lot of people (myself included) and all to often people give this advice and don’t elaborate. Understandable as someone like me elaborating ends up being an entire goddamn novel, but it’s important someone does and I think people need to hear it.
I’m tired of well meaning people giving this advice only to then get disappointed, upset, mad, or frustrated when just telling someone to magically love themselves doesn’t magically fucking work. You should love yourself! Make no mistake the advice is good.
However, just telling someone, especially someone who’s going through a crisis, to love themselves and expecting that to work suddenly is stupid. Its a process. A process I myself still struggle with literally every day. Telling someone to love themselves and just wiping your hands and going “well looks like my work here is done” isn’t enough. Self love is brutally hard for many people and without certain strategies and slow steps taken it just won’t come to a lot of people.
Full disclosure, I am not a trained professional.
I don’t have a psychology degree or would ever call myself an expert on those matters. Just a silly film degree that sits in a closet not being used. I’m not therapist, but in a better life I would be. I think I’d be good at it honestly. But I am not and neither is this. This does not mean it can’t help as I wouldn’t have typed it then. Just that I don’t want anyone treating this as any replacement for professional help.
Do not take any of this as professional advice and certainly don’t use this as a shorthand for therapy.
However, remember you don’t need any degree to help people.
What I do have is an understanding of my own mind and the difficulty of self love. See here’s the thing, so much self help advice and guides come from people who are well off. They’re in good relationships. They have loved ones. They’re comfortable with their appearance. Their needs are met. Not saying those people shouldn’t give advice of course, but let’s be honest with ourselves, it can be frustrating when people who have every reason to be happy expect you to just magically change your negative thinking when your situation is well, utter shit. I get that frustration. Of course it’s easy for YOU to love yourself with your good life, but mines horrible so why should I do the same? A thought that comes all to easy.
So here’s my qualifications. I hate my appearance. I live alone. I have 1 IRL friend I basically only see at work. I only have 2 other people I consider my close friends and they live in another state across the country. I’m trans with parents who I’m dreading finding out as they won’t accept it. I have depression, borderline personality disorder, and the ever lovely dysphoria at my own body. I am extremely touched starved. I moved to another state to live with people I love who now hate me. I work a shitty retail job that pays only just enough to get by.
I frequently hate myself. I frequently feel inadequate. I’ve been abandoned on more then 1 occasion from relationships and friends. I was literally depressed and spiraling down a negative hole just recently a few days ago. Hell I think about daily and have made 3 attempts at...well.. I won’t say the word. Though unfortunately you can’t talk about self love without addressing self hate and you can’t address self hate without going into THAT topic. Rest assured I will put trigger warnings before and after when I get to that topic. Skip if you must.
So as you can see I’m perfectly unqualified to talk about how to self love, which ironically makes me very qualified in my eyes. I’m not sitting atop my mountain of a wondeful life demanding you just love yourself and be happy. I get it. I understand. Life fucking sucks and I know many obstacles that get in the way of self love. I understand how hard it is. I know that me or anyone just telling you to love yourself and all your problems will be solved won’t work.
Of course I can’t love myself Catherine! I’ve got (insert list of all my negative traits and problems in life) why would I even think I should love myself!?
Well lets get into it. Strap the fuck in because this will be a long one. You had plans tonight? Fuck em time to read about self love instead.
Part 1: Actually Wait! Let’s Address Causes For Self Hatred.
Before we even get into steps to self love we need to talk about self hatred. If you struggle to love yourself then chances are you find it really easy to hate yourself instead. I can relate to that very much.
Why would anyone hates themselves? Well that answer will change from person to person and rely on specific individual things to them. However, I can talk about why I’ve hated myself for so long and why its so easy to just be in that place. No one truly wants to be hated or hate themselves, but lets face it. Self hatred is safe and easy. There’s a certain comfort in viewing yourself as nothing but trash and thinking everyone should do the same.
Can’t disappoint anyone if you’re hated to begin with can you? Disappointment comes from love right? Someone you love hurting you creates disappointment. Creates pain. If you hate yourself you will encourage others to hate you as well so you never have to risk getting hurt by others.
I feel guilty over many past mistakes. People I’ve hurt. I hyper focus on my negatives (shouts out to my lovely depression for helping me do that, fucking bitch of a mental illness) I have no path in life, no sense of self (I blame BPD for that, the other bitch of a mental illness I have) I don’t take care of myself well. I feel like I haven’t even begun to live life and I’m 30. I have very few friends and what friends I have I’m always wondering, are they just tolerating me? Do they really care or are they just afraid of what I would do if they left me and don’t want a guilty conscious?
I have every reason to hate myself.
I could list so many names of people just in this past year alone I’ve hurt. Losing the perfect relationship I was in. The many friends I had. Getting banned from a community I loved. Joining new communities and then the cycle continues. Making friends, spiraling emotionally, pushing them away, losing them, getting banned. Repeat. Living alone and barely talking to anyone in person. Seeing my ex at work and getting the death stare that just cuts through my fucking soul. Hating myself comes all to easy for me.
So I get it. You’re talking to the fucking queen bitch bee of self hatred. Well maybe not, but I certainly understand the feeling of going the whole day just thinking your shit and that you deserve all the horrible things you’re feeling and just wishing for the worst.
Part 1.1: You Should (Not) Kill Yourself
Trigger Warning! Uncomfortable Topic Ahead
Until you see this text again the difficult and dark topic of suicide will be discussed. Skip if you must.
So yeah the worst. You know, that fun S word.
Suicide.
Personally I can talk about this topic all day and will do a deeper dive into it one of these days. For now lets just keep It simple or as simple as I can.
When you’re so absorbed in the void. So lost in it and spiraling further down this is where you’ll usually end up. How the hell do you love yourself when your mind is filled with thoughts of going back to that gun store, getting a pistol, and doing what you should have done months ago to end yourself? Very specific thoughts I’ve had many times since December when I in fact almost bought a gun to end my life with. Funny how easy it is to get one as an American.
So whats to be done when your mind is in that state? How do you stop it?
You don’t.
No really. You can’t in that specific moment. Trying to love yourself when your mood and mind are this far deep just isn’t going to work and shouldn’t be the goal then. No your goal is to
1. Let the mood pass. Go through the motions and wait to it to pass as it will
2. Survive. Seriously. Whatever you need to do to survive, do that.
I know not complicated advice or steps, but very important and needs to be said. If you can do those 2 things then you can make it to where you’re able to love yourself. Do not beat yourself up for not seeing the hope and love when you’re in the fucking deepest void. Fuck the people who do that, judge you for not just feeling better when you’re in that dark place. I’ve been on that end and it just pushes you deeper down.
If you have people who can watch over you physically in person go to them or ask them to come to you. If not (like in my case) I go to my couch and cry. I force myself to stay on there. No sharp object or pills in my immediate reach and well, let it flow. It has to pass and forcing it to just stop simply won’t work. You can’t logic your way out of suicidal thoughts when they’re happening.
It doesn’t always work as I did survive 3 attempts so far. All within this last year at that. Being abandoned by many people you love all at once will do that to you. You noticed I didn’t give the advice to reach out to a friend in my simple 2 step plan. I would love to give the advice that you should reach out to a friend, but I’ve had friends leave me for doing that. You should be able to reach out to friends, but alas people will drop you like a fucking rock out of their lives when they hear you’re suicidal. Ironic I know. This is one area I am still baffled on and can’t relate to even remotely.
So fuck It! Reach out to me if you have to! Suicide talk ain’t no problem with me. I don’t know why, but regardless it’s true. It’s not a topic that scares me and I hope you have friends or family that feel the same way. I really should make a post about how to handle suicidal friends specifically shouldn’t I? Another day perhaps.
Know that this dark hole you’re in can be escaped. Look at me. Still alive.
You are not a bad person for thinking of suicide.
You are not a bad person for attempting suicide.
You are not a bad person if people left you due to suicide.
You deserve love and to love yourself.
If there’s anything to showcase the importance of self love it’s to get as far away from suicide as possible. I believe in you!
I personally hate how people treat suicide victims as horrible people for daring to reach out or attempting it. Fucking disgust me. But what can you do, but be better for others then others were to you.
Survive and claw you’re way out. You’re not alone. Not while I’m alive.
Trigger Warning Over! Now We Can Get Back To Actually Learning How To Love Yourself :3
Part 2: Guilts A Fucking Bitch Isn’t It.
A common thought in my head when it comes to self love is why do I even deserve to? It’s easy to beat yourself up, especially when you know you’ve hurt people you care for. Isn’t that just the fucking worst. It’s one thing to hurt just someone you don’t know, but when loved ones get hurt and you are the cause. Yeah that shit causes a wave of guilt, a wave that can turn into a vortex, a spiral of guilt that you get lost in.
So the thought process is this, I did X bad thing/things. I hurt loved ones and ruined something good. Therefore I’m a piece of shit and no one should love me, including myself.
Oh hey that’s me this entire last year. Shits fucking hard to break out of and getting into a pattern of self punishment is very easy. After all you are a bad person and you do deserve to be punished right? You don’t deserve silly things like self love or any love when you’re supposed to be suffering for all the pain you caused right?
Wrong! See guilt isn’t bad. In fact you should feel guilt over things, that’s good. When you fuck up feeling guilt is a sign of growth. It means you acknowledge you fucked up and that’s far better then hurting others and just thinking you’re the only one who isn’t a problem. Hopefully you learn (its ok if you don’t soon though because I sure as hell didn’t) and do better. Thing is guilt can consume the fuck out of you. Especially when you just have a list of people you’ve hurt or ways you’ve fucked up.
I’ve done some fucked things. I have loads of guilt and it can be overwhelming. I’ve broken so many goddamn boundaries, been emotionally abusive, manipulative, used self harm as a way of hurting others, and was responsible for ending a friendship that lasted years. I could list more and if I was in a negative spiral I could go on forever for why I deserve to suffer. I feel like shit. Well I do often I should say, but hey self helps a journey and not a race.
Lets actually look at one of my “sins” as it were. When I was responsible for ending a friendship. I won’t be giving actual names, but just first letters so as not to put the names of people out there who wouldn’t want that.
Long story short I was living with my now ex-girlfriend, I’ll call her M. M eventually got tired of my bullshit and had to move out and live with her good friend, we’ll call her A, in another state. So how did I end that friendship?
I find out a month later that A had kicked M out of their place and just what in the fuck? See A and M were really really good friends. Such good friends that A drove many states over to pick up M and have her stay with them. So to then find out something happened between them and A kicked M out of their place was just a fucking shock. M is physically disabled to so like its doubly fucked what A did.
Of course my mind is thinking this whole event is my fault. After all if I was better for M, she would have never needed to leave, which then led to whatever happened between them(to this day I still have no idea what went down).
This led to me feeling even more guilt and also a hell of a lot of anger for A. I already had a rocky relationship with A for many other reasons and learning this made me want to fucking beat the shit out of them (I’m very weak and would have gotten wrecked if I tried, but irrational anger do what it will do) I hated A and I hated myself. Someone I still loved was now left homeless and its all because I wasn’t good enough for her.
Except, well… hold on... my guilt there was bullshit.
See here’s the first step with managing overwhelming guilt. Take a step back and really assess if you should feel guilt in the first place. I didn’t cause whatever fallout happened between them. I didn’t make them fight. I wasn’t the one who kicked someone out of my place. I only felt guilty because I indirectly caused a situation that could have happened irregardless of me. That guilt was misplaced. I can’t be feeling guilty over the actions of someone else just because I’m spiraling in my dark void and finding every possible reason to hate myself. The anger was justified, but you gotta stop feeling guilty for things that you simply were not responsible for. That situation was caused by them, not by me.
Another example is the guilt of being trans and knowing my parents will be disappointed. Despite what you may assume, they are good people, but also old and christian. They love me, but yes, they will not like me being trans. It will hurt them. No amount of pointing out why that’s wrong will change that reality.
However, whenever they find out and whatever they feel, is not my fault. That’s guilt I shouldn’t feel. I am who I am. I can’t be feeling guilty over every little thing that’s ultimately not my fault. That’s not healthy.
Ok Catherine maybe I can shed some guilt I have when really looking at these things, but come on. No ones perfect, what about the very real guilt I feel for the very real horrible things I did?
Regardless of what you did, or who you hurt, I am saying right now.
Forgive Yourself
But you don’t know what I did!?
I don’t care.
But I did this horrible awful!
I don’t care.
I fucked up!
I don’t care.
I don’t give a single goddamn fuck what you did. Not at all.
Forgive Yourself
You could be reading this in fucking jail cell after taking someones life. If you are genuinely working on improving yourself, bettering yourself, working to help others, helping yourself, and striving to be better then whoever you were. You deserve forgiveness and that includes forgiving yourself. I’m aware this statement might not sit well with others and I also don’t care. I cannot be changed on this stance. I feel very strongly about this.
See when we say everyone deserves forgiveness I truly do mean everyone who makes an effort.
Even if others don’t ever stop hating you, you deserve to stop hating yourself over whatever the hell you did. No one has to forgive you, but you sure as shit deserve to forgive yourself.
Forgiveness is key to end the guilt spiral. Yeah you fucked up. Yeah I fucked up. I hurt people I loved, hell people I still love. It happens. Take the time to suffer and feel bad but don’t let it consume you. You owe it to yourself to forgive yourself and let go of the guilt after enough time. Then work on being better the next time.
You deserve to love yourself.
Part 3: Lets Identify Those Positive Traits!
I don’t deserve to be loved because I’m (insert list of only negative qualities I have about myself) I’m a piece of shit! I’m not good enough! I’m a burden! Everyone who loves me can find better!
Such common phrases I’ve given about myself and people who hate themselves repeat those often. Well fuck it lets list them for me. Lets first just look at all the negative traits I have about myself.
I’m ugly, I have a shitty voice, I have intrusive thoughts, I think about death often, I am emotionally needy, I have depression, I have BPD, I’m not in the right body, I get angry fast, I am emotional, I have no skills, no talents, everyone who says they’re my friend is just tolerating me because they don’t want to deal with the guilt of what I might do if I was abandoned. I’m a burden. I’ve hurt others. Ect. Its easy to list negative traits about yourself and even easier to turn positive traits into negative ones. Seeing good in yourself is hard with depression in my experience, but even without it, exaggerating your negative traits is all to easy to do.
However, it is vital to embrace your positive traits in order to practice self love. Lets turn a positive spin or just reveal how some of those negatives aren’t as bad as I make them out to be all to often.
I’m ugly?
No I’m not tons of people have called me cute and pretty. One day I’ll even be hot and you all better be fucking prepared.
I have a shitty voice?
No I have a normal fucking voice. I’m soft spoken and mumble a bit but that can be changed with practice. My voice can only get better whenever the hell I do voice training to.
I have intrusive thoughts?
Yeah I do. Hell I’ve even acted on some of them, but do I act on most of them? I wouldn’t be alive if I did trust me. I have self doubts, my emotions can flare up and cause intensive intrusive thoughts, but guess what? So does everyone, that shit is normal. Why beat myself up over it?
I think about death often?
See above. I sure do and yet I’m still here.
I am emotionally needy?
Sure. I am. I’ve got years of trauma with a particularly horrible last year and severe abandonment issues. I have diagnosed mental illnesses. I’m just now really discovering who I am. Guess what, I’m allowed to be a little emotionally needy given the circumstances. It will get better.
I have depression?
Sure as hell do, holy shit do I! Brains a bit fucky and that’s ok. Depression isn’t a negative trait. It’s just an aspect of me. An aspect I have slowly taken steps to manage. Mental illness’s aren’t negative traits. Just how your brain works.
I have BPD?
Very much yes. Oh its fucked so much of my life and very hard to manage, but it also helps me key into negative emotions of others. Helps me be very empathetic to those like me. Helps me be non judgmental to those who feel like me. To many people abandon and hate people with BPD. Me having it allows me to empathize with others who also have it and work towards being a more positive force in their lives. Sure its very negative at times. Like depression though it’s just how my brain works.
I’m not in the right body?
True. I’m trans. Its unfortunate I have to deal with it and so many others have to as well. But I’ve taken steps to achieve the body I desire more. Very slow steps, but steps all the same. It also helps me now be more empathetic to issues as both a guy and girl being in this transitional space.
I get angry fast?
Yeah I can get angry fast at certain specific things. Anger is not a negative trait its just anger. It’s what you do while feeling it that matters. I don’t physically harm anyone or anything. I can yell and say mean things, but that's hardly enough a reason to hate myself. Sure though this one can slip through. I do get angry easily and can lash out verbally when in that state. 1 Negative trait so far.
I am emotional?
Yeah. So what? Why is this negative again? Oh right its not.
I have no skills?
Bullshit! I can type massive fucking essays about mental health no problem. That’s a skill. Fingers get fucking tired though. I can edit video. I can do basic 3D modeling. I’m a very good listener and I do list that as a skill. I can handle heavy dark uncomfortable things friends need to get off their chest. I’d honestly make a good therapist if I studied it. There’s more to list if I took the time to write it all down. Just need to really think about it and be honest with yourself.
No talents?
See above.
Everyone who says they’re my friend is just tolerating me because they don’t want to deal with the guilt of what I might do if I was abandoned?
Well that’s not really a trait about myself, but lets address it all the same. Is this true? Well I got 3 main friends and none of them are fucking dumb. None of my friends would waste their time tolerating me either so guess what? Must mean they’re genuinely my friends. Many former friends have left me but that’s on them. It’s certainly a fear I have deep within me with my current friends. An understandable and justified fear given this past year. It’s certainly not a negative trait though.
I’m a fucking burden?
Am I? I mean yeah I have been. People have left me for that. Surely this is a negative trait right? Sure. I’ll give myself that. Except well… I mean I’m trying to love myself and improve myself. I’m trying to better myself and be less of a burden on my loved ones. It’s not easy, but working to improve on this negative trait is not enough to hate myself. 2 negative traits so far.
I’ve hurt others?
See part 2 on guilt.
I’m not broken. I’m not useless. I’m not a waste of time. I deserve love.
So do you.
Here’s the thing, I get it. It’s easy to see the worst in yourself and disregard evidence to the contrary. You say your ugly? Your friends say otherwise, but the mind won’t accept or see it. You say you don’t deserve love? To someone who very clearly loves you. You still don’t accept It. Brains be fucky like that. Just not seeing whats so obvious to others. I can relate very much.
I want everyone to do this. Simply list any positive traits you can muster about yourself. You can’t? Ok just list things you’ve done. Anything you’ve done no matter how small or simple it is. Things you’ve made, people you’ve helped, and anything else you can think of.
If you can’t even do that and you can only think of the negative traits of yourself then try to spin all those negative traits you have in your head into positives like I did. Really look at them and see if you can find ways this trait isn’t as negative as you think.
Here’s some positive traits about me.
I can cook. I’m a good worker. I can open up myself to others to help them. I’m very good about texting/DMing back. I don’t mind listening to others, no matter how dark or intrusive the thoughts may be. I enjoy pleasing others. I’m caring. I’m cute as fuck. I’m very vulnerable.
That vulnerability is good. If I wasn’t vulnerable I couldn’t be typing all this now could I? There’s a risk of getting hurt myself, but that risk could very well lead to others reading this and feeling better about themselves and so vulnerable I shall be.
I’m trying to better myself and in turn better others.
It’s hard. I get it. Genuinely even trying to think of positive things about myself is still difficult and I know if I asked others they could list more good things about me. However, listing them is nothing compared to actually accepting them as true. When you’re stuck in that self hatred spiral you can’t see anything positive about yourself, therefore loving yourself is off the fucking table. So repeat them, embrace them, and accept them over and over again while you’re mood allows you to.
But even if you don’t accept them yet, list them. Ask others to give you more if you can. Just keep listing them every day if needed. Get that positive reinforcement going.
Don’t let the self hatred win.
Part 4: What Do You Want? Head Towards It
What the fuck do you want in life? Well? Ask yourself. Figure that shit out.
I know that’s not easy. I’m 30 and still fucking around trying to figure that shit out. Here’s why it’s important though to stop and just think about what you truly want. You make goals and you head towards them inch by fucking inch. Progress leads to good feelings which leads to being more open to loving yourself.
What do I want?
I want at least 1 person to truly love me, all of me. Even more would be even better. I want a job I don’t hate. I want friends nearby I could visit. I want to fully transition. Fuck it I want to be hot as fuck. I want to fuck. I want to experience more cool art. I want to learn how to cook better and begin baking. I want to travel. I want to use my past life mistakes as experience to guide others in other directions (it’s what this entire post is) I want to help others. I want to die happy.
Now I can’t focus on all of that at once and that’s ok. The point of a list like that is to get a general sense, a blueprint, of where you’re wanting to go. Find one or a couple to work towards and as you progress you’ll find self love will come just a little bit easier. May seem like obvious advice sure, but obvious doesn’t mean easy to do.
So what steps am I taking? Well I’m forced to learn cooking living on my own and I’m saving up to buy tools for baking. I’m taking hormones. I just got myself new glasses after a goddamn decade. I made a Tumblr which has helped me express myself more. I’m writing this very post to help others. Plus more planned when I can get to it.
Knowing what you want and making little goals is such obvious advice but its obvious for a reason. This shit works. Fucking crazy I know. In order to achieve any of those I have to love myself, even just a little bit, to make that progress. What’s the alternative? I’ve talked about the alternative before and I’m tired of feeling that way, even if it’s still very difficult not to.
I do want to focus a bit on body image specifically. See I’m trans. I despise how I look and since I’m sharing this on Tumblr I imagine other transwomen (or anyone else) can relate. When setting goals, especially goals relating to appearance its easy to get discouraged.
After all will I truly be able to look how I wish? I don’t know. Is that a reason to stop? Fuck no! The goal isn’t to reach 100% positive image with yourself. It’s to work towards that as much as you can. Whatever that image is, that’s up to you, but head towards it. I may never reach that 100% with how I want to look, but I will get as close as I can and the closer I get the easier it will be to love myself. As someone with dysphoria, removing that as much as I can will make loving myself far easier. Its a major hurdle for many people, but especially my trans brothers and sisters.
However being trans is by no means a requirement to have body issues and don’t let anyone say otherwise. Make no mistake, you’re body is fine and you are fine. No one should feel like they have to be ashamed for their body.
Despite that though there is nothing wrong with working towards a look you simply don’t have yet either. Get to working out! It’s what I have tried and stopped and tried and stopped and yeah it’s hard to keep committed, but vital to look how I want. Dieting is a bitch to keep going as well. Don’t beat yourself up for faltering whatever standard you have set for yourself.
Pick yourself up and try again. Work towards an appearance you can be comfortable with however you best can. It will do fucking wonders for self love.
You need shit to work towards to. You need to love yourself to best reach those goals. Its very circular in a sense, they feed into each other in a positive way.
Part 5: Treat Yourself, You Deserve It.
Treating yourself is an act of self love. An act that is unfortunately hard to do for a lot of people.
So this advice wasn’t given to me directly, but someone I follow online talked about it. There’s a guy from a group called Mega 64 I follow called Shawn Chatfield. A fan asked him for advice for finding motivation to get through a shitty week. His advice was hey, everyday at the end of the day, treat yourself. Desert one day, a dinner you enjoy the next, buy something you need/want, ect.
That resonated with me because it really is solid advice, except 1 small issue. Lets amend that advice a bit and make it more applicable to everyone. See Shawns a positive guy I think he’s a cool dude. He’s also giving advice from a more privileged place. He has his dream job, a family, kids, a house, and overall can afford to treat himself at the end of everyday by buying something. Many can’t including me.
However, it’s still important to treat yourself so what do we do?
Here’s what I do. Once a week, typically the last day I work, I either to a really nice sub sandwich place right after work or a nice hot chicken place near where I work. Far better food then any of my cooking and they’re aren’t out of the way either. Could I afford to go out to eat every single day? No. But once a week after doing my shitty retail job? Yes.
If its possible for you financially, set aside some money you can split into 4 chunks to treat yourself to something you enjoy once a week. Shits getting expensive and it’s only getting harder to do this, but if you can then you should. If you can buy yourself something 4 times a month though then please do so. Something that’s not a need, but a want. A treat for getting though this shit another week. After all no sense working most of the week to not use a least some of it to actually enjoy life as best as you’re able to.
Treats don’t always need to be things that cost money like food either. Treat yourself in other ways as best you can. Every week and every day if possible. Whatever it is. Just vibe out to your favorite album alone in your room. Go to a park or some other cool scenic place near where you live. Play D&D with your friends online. Play with any pets you have. Hell get out the magic wand and enjoy a night to yourself haha. Whatever it is be sure to not just relax, but relax in a way that shows you really do care about yourself.
What this will do is not only just be helpful for getting through each day/week, but help change your mind into thinking you deserve nice things. Good things. As you slowly feel like you deserve little treats then you’ll more clearly see you deserve self love right? It’s all about changing that negative outlook about yourself into a positive, one small tiny step at a time.
Part 6: Whats This Meditation Bullshit?
I have only started doing this for a week. So whatever long term benefits of this are I haven’t experienced yet, but the beauty of this is it cost nothing to try and everyone is capable of doing it. I’ll just link the video. This is by Dr. K who is someone I really respect. This entire post is my own attempt at helping others as he does using Twitch/YouTube/Discord. Of course as my disclaimer at the start, I’m no expert with no degree as people such as Dr. K have. Which is why I’m not going super in depth explaining what he already has. He goes into explaining Metta meditation which if nothing else, will help you have a moment of positivity towards yourself and others each day. https://youtu.be/FQ1d5rC062c
It may seem like some love beats all sappy to good to be true bullshit, but it hasn’t hurt me doing it for about a week. Changing how you’re mind thinks is a slow process and whatever helps, no matter how unusual it may seem, is worth doing.
Part 7: Oh Right Go To Therapy
Therapy you necessary but impossible to get bastard. It’s super important. It’s also super shitty to get and afford which is a shame because ITS REALLY FUCKING IMPORTANT! See any future mental health bigass post I make are pretty much always going to mention therapy. It’s vital for any type of bettering yourself advice. The problem is, its hard to get, expensive, and takes fucking forever to work when you do get it.
For me I had to figure this shit out on my own this past year. I thought I was going to have help, but my ex friends/relationships didn’t really do shit to help. All I got was BetterHelp.com recommended to me and I mean if that works for you cool, but that was an overpriced waste of time for me. Then my friends left me as I was seeing therapy through that and yeah shit was not a good time for me August of 2022.
I could and should do a whole post on just therapy so for now I’ll say this.
If you know someone who needs therapy or you want them in therapy. Help them find it and if you can afford it and they can’t, pay for it. I would for people I’m close to because what the hell is the point of having money if it’s not being used to help someone after my financial needs are met?
Insurance is a fucking bitch. I don’t know how other countries are, but in America you’re either paying to much for therapy or paying to much for insurance to help pay for therapy. If you have to figure this out on your own expect a lot of pain and frustration. Then you find a place and frankly the therapist just isn’t very good for you so you gotta search again and deal with more wait times and just FUCK!
Therapy needs to be far easier to navigate, find, afford, and just overall it’s a mess to figure it out all on your own. Its super important though and I’m by no means fully well by any stretch, but it’s certainly helped me get to where I am.
Remember none of my previous advice is coming from a professional (well beyond the one professional video I shared) So talking to a professional always needs to be on the table when working to improve yourself, especially to overcome self hatred or really anything.
Part 8: Alright Lets Wrap This Shit Up.
Fiiiinnnneeee. I guess I should get to the end.
So in summary.
1. Recognize and acknowledge you’re own self hatred and survive first and foremost through those thoughts. Survive first then focus on getting better once you’re able to. Do not beat yourself up to much.
2. Truly ask yourself if you should be feeling all of the guilt you may feel and work on forgiving yourself over past mistakes.
3. Identity your positive traits and really examine any negative ones you have and ask “are these truly as negative as I make them out to be?”
4. Figure out what you even want from life. Where do you want to head to? What goals do you have and strive towards them as best as you’re able.
5. Treat yourself once a week or more to the best of your ability. You deserve it.
6. Metta Meditation. Gives yourself a little moment to wish happiness onto yourself and others.
7. Therapy. Get you’re cute self to therapy.
There you have it. Steps I’m taking for myself and steps you should take yourself if you struggle with self love like I do. I have no doubt many people far more qualified then me have given far better advice to achieving self love. Regardless, this past year these are what I’ve come to learn work best for me, even if I’m not fully there either.
Self love is important. Without it shits just not going to work out. I’ve learned that plenty in the past year and have suffered plenty for it.
Hopefully this helps someone haha. I spent days typing on it on and off. Not quite 7000 words, but close to it. And if you thought this advice was stupid or wrong or a waste of time to type! I wish you well and hope you have a good day alongside with every else.
Time to start thinking on the next one.
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ina-nis · 1 year
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Isn’t it baffling how “people existing with other people in my vicinity makes me suicidal...“ isn’t considered serious enough because there’s probably only a small amount of people who suffers from this and it will be probably attributed to Major Depression or other similar mental illnesses?
“...so I’m going to avoid everyone and everything in order to not get hurt anymore.”
Avoidant Personality Disorder is a ruthless illness, for as long as you’re trying to fight it.
It gives you an easy way out - you can choose to not engage, you can deescalate and avoid people and situations altogether.
The flip side is that, without treatment (like all Personality Disorders), it will not improve, and the internal mechanism makes it snap back as strongly or worse the longer the avoidance goes on. Or a person becomes completely numb: their life tinged with resentment and grief, or they accept their “fate” as something immutable and hopeless, or they become disordered in other ways, etc...
It’s a hard disease to treat because it becomes entrenched in someone’s core. It depends greatly on luck, it depends greatly on other people’s complete acceptance, it depends greatly on finding a good professional that can help a person work through things... it depends on so many things beyond the individual.
It’s a nightmare to go through, but you can stop if you want.
You can avoid it.
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efangamez · 21 days
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So a little PSA going forward btw! This isn't meant as a call out or anything, but a stating of boundaries with my page and communication, as well as some clear ups!
I am incredibly mentally ill and autistic, with memory loss and attention disorders, so if we communicate and things are a little wonky, let me know! Sometimes I'm unaware what I'm saying may be a little rude, so please kindly let me know!
Boundary 1: Please do not ask me to review game items of yours or someone else's! I currently am trying to simply exist in this world by eating, drinking, and showering, so I may not have time to read your games, even if they're really short. I think that, for me right now, it puts a lot of pressure on me that I just cannot deal with right now.
Boundary 2: Please do not ask for advice or tips unsolicited unless through an ask. Again, because I'm a slow texter and have memory loss, I may not be able to get back to you, and I'd much rather you just ask publicly than privately.
Boundary 3: Please no unsolicited DMs. I have learned the hard way many people on this app who DM me wanting something, trying to strike up conversations, or love bomb you, are trying to get something out of you, and I'm kinda tired of it, frankly. Some people who have DMed me have become cool peeps I can talk to, but some have manipulated me and used me, and when I was of no use, discarded me. Because of this, please ONLY DM me if I have expressed a want to otherwise! (This is for mostly random people I don't know, so if we're already talking, we should be good!)
Boundary 4: This kinda goes without saying, but please do not interact with me if you are a minor. This is an 18+ page.
Boundary 5: This one may sting for some people, but it's my personal boundary and it has nothing to do with people individually. I do not wish to be called a "friend" of yours unless I myself call you that. It's a term I hold quite dear and hold for a VERY few people. I'm more like an acquaintance to many people or even just one step up from stranger. Again, it does not mean I don't like you, I just hold friendships super close to my heart, and I've been burned calling people friend who truly are not mine.
Boundary 6: This one is kinda twofold. I want people to know that if my boundaries are crossed after warning, I will block you. My mental health cannot take constant violations of my boundaries, and thus I have to enforce them. The next is that I will ALWAYS restate a boundary with someone, because I'll never expect anyone to know a boundary without them knowing, so if it happens, I'll let you know, sometimes more than once if I know you well enough.
Boundary 7: I will ALWAYS talk about politics or human rights issues, so if you have an issue with that, please do not interact with me. I do not wish to be comrades with those who are "apolitical".
And that's it! I know it's a ton, but like I said, I'll never expect anyone to know automatically what my boundaries are, so if ya mess up, I'll let ya know very kindly!
I'll also have this up on my pinned post so that way people can know exactly my boundaries are!
Have a wonderful day to y'all, and to my fellow disabled and mentally ill baddies out there; you are absolutely loved, and please don't drive yourself to spiral because your feelings are ALWAYS valid (this goes to me too lol).
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