#and I recognize now that the dissociative state is protective. I recognize that I needed it because I have been through the Horrors

[alittlebitofrainbyyourside]

Fopps was like 'why have you removed yourself from 90% of your social spaces' and I do not know how to explain that like... it's not that anyone has upset me or that like- Okay, there is an element of like 'the way I care about people is wrong and I am a terrible human being for leading everyone on' but that's like- complicated and more fleeting. 90% of it is absolutely just 'if you give me a captive audience, I will trauma dump rn.' tumblr is mostly safe rn because I frequently forget that I have the ability to make posts and not just reblog things.

#the first thing is just complicated and is about like- the way my dissociation works #at the end of the day- there is a dissociative ... piece? part? Emotional Part? whatever we want to call it. Phase of Self #That does indeed not care about anything. It does not care about you. It does not care about my wife. It does not care. #it is survival mode at it's finest. #but whenever I come out of that dissociative state it feels really gross and bad and like I've been a terrible person #even if like- its only been idk a few hours. #and like this state does not *do* anything. it's not like 'oh I yell at people and I was MEAN' it just feels... empty and blank. #I buy my wife this chocolate when I see it because it's not at our local store anymore. and when I do it when I'm not /that/ dissociated #this feels like an act of love. I feel Love and Warm and Good. I am going to make my wife happy #when I am that kind of dissociated #I still do it I still buy the chocolate but it feels cold and calculated. #I buy the chocolate because it will make my wife happy and that is what the Shell of A Person is supposed to do #but then yeah. You come out and you feel gross like you're just manipulating everyone. Like you're doing all the right things but there's n #there's no light behind the eyes. #and I recognize now that the dissociative state is protective. I recognize that I needed it because I have been through the Horrors #and that if I had to deal with having feelings about things all the time- I wouldn't have made it #and that when I flick back into it- it's probably like... because I've been triggered or some shit and am having too many feelings so #actually we're gonna have none. because that's how you survive #but yeah it creates this really frustrating pattern in my life where like- it's not even *that* state that withdraws from people #it's the one after. Where I have all the feelings about everything and I'm scared I've tricked people! #I've made people think I'm nice and caring and kind when AHAH actually I'm a robot who has only been programmed for kindness #this probably counts as trauma dumping. I'm doing the exact thing I do not want to do rn. #*squints* bah bahbah bah bah bahbahbah

[allycat75]

Let's talk a bit about anxiety, Boston Dumb Fuck.

(a bit of a long one, but I feel some things have been brought up in recent days that I thought should be addressed. Still think I am screaming into a void, but if this helps anyone struggling, it is worth it)

But more specifically, responsibility for ones own anxiety care. And before I start, I want to emphasize I have no doubt of your struggle. It is like being haunted and there are few places to hide. I can understand why your instinct was to shush it all away, but I think you can see now, that did little for your coping skills.

Anxiety doesn't go away by ignoring it, or worse, pawning it off on others. It requires planning, rehearsals and simple acknowledgement to be able to function in your day, doing as little harm to yourself and others. Some days will be better or worse, of course, mainly because anxiety does serve a physiological purpose- it helps us to recognize threats. Our job is to identify if those threats are real or not and to what degree can we mitigate either the threat itself or our response to it. The more we practice, the less we are held hostage by the "fight", "flight", "freeze" and "fawn" responses.

I would argue, BDF, what you have done with this PR stunt is set off a dirty bomb of anxiety, born out of your own fears that got you to agree to this ridiculous plan in the first place, and spread radioactively throughout your fandom. You poisoned the ones standing closest to it, the ones who supported you the most, and began by confounding what was real and what was fake. This, in turn, bloomed into self-doubt and warring factions, leading many of us to question what is true and false and honestly, which was worse. And do we care either way?

You manipulated situations, told half-truths and outright lies, not to telegraph to or protect your fans, but to selfishly create plausible deniability and legal CYA for yourself when this is over. It's like the type of obfuscation used by Aaron Rogers when he smugly blamed everyone for thinking he got the NFL required COVID vaccine, when all he said was he had "immunity", basically saying "I am sorry you were too stupid to interpret the exact words that came out of my mouth and not the spirit behind them."

We are considered collateral damage in a junior high drama produced by grown adults, that we were drafted into participating against our knowledge and permission. We are all a bit on edge, at least the ones who decided to stay to see how this all plays out, and it is kinda, sorta cruel to inflict that hurt on those who had your back at one point, when you know how painful this process can be.

Only looking out for yourself, but what is left to look out for at this point? You look sickly and broken. No real career prospects currently and seemingly no drive to find them. You have nothing to offer any decent woman. No discernible coping or decision making skills. No discernible skills at all, really. There are enough people already making great pottery and I think Jinx can sell dog food just fine without you.

And this is not even getting into how "marrying" that little prize of a wifey now normalizes racism, sexism, antisemitism, agism, xenophobia, fatshaming and pay-to-play vs actual talent and dedication to craft.

So if all of this gives you anxiety, it most definitely should, and know this is of your own making. But the best thing is, it can be of your own fixing as well. You can become the person with discernible skills of all types. You can get roles that match the talent you have hidden within you. You can be worthy of that soulmate Empress partner. You just need to get rid of the wrong people, get a hold of the right people and do the goddamn work, you privleged son of a bitch!

Just some things to contemplate as you come out of your dissociative state, realize you have an impact on the world around you and consider the amends you may need to make to repair the damage left behind.

Until you can get yourself to a trained professional (but please find one soon and start the hard work), hopefully some of these resources can be helpful:

For your family and friends:

#liars suck! #you are the company you keep #i don't like hypocrites #i hate manipulation #coward #boston antisemite #boston racist #boston fatshamer #get some help #do better #stop the shushing- learn the lesson #check your privlege #is this who you want to be?

[furiousgoldfish]

Since I'm struggling so bad with the dissociative identity disorder lately, I keep wishing I had a therapist to talk it over with. It can't happen, because in the country where I live in, it's not a recognized disorder yet. Still, I get curious about what is known about it, I'll write a bit about that, and it's probably just going to be funny to those who already know what a dissociative identity disorder is.

So by the chance of fate, I happen to work for a psychiatrist, who doesn't know I have any such illnesses, and will not find out (I don't wanna get institutionalized). However, since I do work for them, I sometimes have access to their studying materials, to their diagnostic tools and little workbooks, and if I have a moment, I will secretly grab one of these books and fervently look through to see what they're all about.

I have learned many unsettling things, for example, you can be diagnosed with 'a case of bad nerves' if you come in with symptoms of anxiety and paranoia. You can also be diagnosed with 'hysteric delusions', still. Your spouse can come talk to a psychiatrist and complain about you, and they'll diagnose you with something immediately. PTSD is the end of the line for the psychiatric disorders, and you can only get diagnosed with it if you've partaken in a war. No other way to have ptsd here.

No diagnostic tools or workbooks even mentioned a dissociative disorder.

Then I thought, okay, this is bad, they're definitely not teaching people to recognize or diagnose this, and at this point I suspect people are getting massively misdiagnosed with victim-blaming crap and even the diagnostic tools are telling psychiatrists to diagnose them exactly like that.

But then I also decide to google it in my own language, like there must be some sort of info on it, right? And I find a scientific article about it. And I'm going to translate to you exactly what I read in that article:

"Dissociative identity disorder, or dissociative personality disorders are marked with change of feeling of identity, memory or consciousness. People with this disorder can forget important events from their past, or even temporarily forget who they are, or even take on a new identity. They can even wander off from their usual environment, in a foreign direction."

I don't even know how to react to this. Even if I did get diagnosed, all I would be labeled as is 'has amnesia, wanders off' disorder. And I’m going to be honest, I don’t even wander off anymore. I’m unfit to be diagnosed.

-

I feel bad for putting out all of this misinformation now, so for those who are somehow reading up to this point without knowing what a dissociative identity disorder actually is, here’s a definition from Wikipedia:

“Dissociative identity disorder (DID), previously known as multiple personality disorder (MPD), and colloquially known as split personality disorder, is a mental disorder characterized by the maintenance of at least two distinct and relatively enduring personality states.The disorder is accompanied by memory gaps more severe than could be explained by ordinary forgetfulness. The personality states alternately show in a person's behavior; however, presentations of the disorder vary.“

For people who have it, it can feel like you have different versions of yourself in your head, voices inside of you that are talking to you, or different people in your head who not only talk to you, but can take control over your body, or ‘switch’. They all exist to protect you and hold traumatic memories, hold different aspects of your personality, and they have different needs that need to be fulfilled. Alters can be very different from each other, and have developed different mindsets, priorities and goals, as they are shaped based on different memories and experiences they’ve had. They exist to make it possible for a child to go through severe trauma, and be able to survive it and keep functioning almost as if it didn’t happen.

#dissociative identity disorder #DiD #system #osdd #alters #undiagnosed #psychiatrist diagnostic tools #criticizing the psychiatry #this basically means i can't get therapy via healthcare #i don't have money to find someone abroad #so sadly i will have to keep figuring it out #alone with alters

[witchcrash]

Some analysis of Cass's relationship with It, and how she understands & worships It in the modern day, compared & contrasted to the other Yellowjackets who do so:

LOTTIE - seems to view It as something to be kept at bay, kept back there in the wilderness where It belongs. “I thought we left It there when we were rescued. But now I realize, we brought It back with us.”

In the wilderness, Lottie was Its mouthpiece, until she taught the other girls to hear It too. She thought It only meant to help them survive, she thought she was only spreading hope, but . . . It tricked her. "I never meant -- "As a result, she feels responsible, not just for her own actions, but for everything.

In the modern day, omens of death & blood make Its presence known to her, and she is terrified. She sacrifices her blood to It as a form of appeasement. There's a sense of desperation to the gesture.

Please take this from me and nothing else.

TAISSA - only interacts with It in a dissociative state. It's unclear if the Other emerged as a facet of Tai in the wilderness or sometime prior, but she became increasingly active & prominent there, displaying an innate understanding of their surroundings & how to survive them.

"Something inside you is connected to this place."

Tai refuses to accept the existence of It -- until her actions as the Other force her hand. Upon being rescued, she stops believing in It, but the Other doesn't. At some point, she erects a shrine in secret & begins making sacrifices.

The primary purpose of the Other seems to be protecting Tai & the things she holds dear in ways she's unwilling or unable to do consciously. The ongoing worship may be a function of this . . . but it's also transactional.

When Taissa wants something -- like the Senatorship -- but won't play dirty enough to get it, the Other finds ways to provide. Sacrificing the family dog to It is one of those ways.

As much as they are one in the same, the Other has assumed the role of mediating conflicts for Tai -- her body's needs with her physical circumstances, her ambitions with her principles, her life post-rescue with It's continued presence . . .

& FINALLY, CASS - does not recognize any clear distinction between herself & It. While the other women have found ways to distance themselves from It in their worship, she's dissolved herself into It.

They have their own shrine & their own rituals, because rituals are important -- blood is important -- but their worship is primarily intuitive & internal. She doesn't fear It like Lottie or bargain with It like Tai because Its desires are hers, and vice versa.

"It's not evil. Just hungry, like us. Let It in"

When It hungers, she hungers, and when she feeds It, she is fed. They use their own instincts, emotions, & desires to understand what It wants & act accordingly. And when Its presence & will do become apparent . . . she feels relief because now she knows exactly what she has to do to keep them both strong.

-- Because It needs to be nurtured out here, far from the wilderness' womb for the first time. The other survivors have largely abandoned It, feeding It on scraps or leaving It to wither & rot & turn to poison inside them. Not Cass.

Out in the wilderness, she & the others bore witness to something as powerful as it was lonely and violent and misunderstood. There was a learning curve, for sure, but that was where she realized -- all Its power is hers to wield if she just lets It in, if she just learns to love It.

For Cass, that part comes so naturally.

#i. AUTOPSY NOTES #ty in advance 4 reading all that damn #ok like a lot of the lottie & tai stuff is my analysis/extrapolation of a somewhat cryptic show but. #i feel good about it!!!!

[soullikethesea]

And this post is about T.

Last week I'd forced myself to write to her. I... forcefully... connected inside. It turned out that I was upset about quite a few things, but the things that came to mind first were about my mum. (1) How my body is starting to look so much like her's and it feels awful; (2) Memories of being locked out of the house: (3) Gypsy Blanchard's release from prison and how people are responding to that.

I also shared some lyrics that reminded me of the whole ordeal when I was a teenager. At some point I got so desperate. So, so desperate and lost and alone.

"I had a dream that I was hitting my dad with a baseball bat/and he was screaming and crying for help/and maybe half-way through it became more about me killing him/than it ever was protecting myself/and yeah, dad, maybe no one is perfect/but I believe that you were pushing your luck."

T seemed to have thought about the things I wrote. She wanted to talk about it for like an hour. She shared a song that reminded her of getting out of a freeze state. I don't really remember very well what she ended up asking or telling me.

I think she was trying to acknowledge/recognize my pain?? But since I wasn't connected to the right parts anymore, it just felt a bit weird. She said that, as she is learning more about my story and the deeper meaning of things, she is - only now - recognizing *how* hard it must have been. How painful and how alone. And how hard it must be to open up.

I said that it's not so hard to be open, anymore. And she pointed out the extra layer of potential painfulness/paradox in that, that only *now* it is recognized how hard it must have been, when it is not as hard anymore. When I am more knowable for her. Which grazes open more loneliness...

We also talked a bit about values. And about work. Setting boundaries.

I mentioned how I've lost touch inside, with other parts. And we came to the verbal agreement that I can email her once a week. Somehow I really needed to hear explicit permission for that again. It's not too much work. I'm not asking too much. I can do this if it is helpful to me and I can use it as a means to force myself to reconnect inside.

Oh, and at some point, earlier in the session, T asked why I sent the writing. It was to reconnect inside, to work on things that come up, and I guess also checking again if maybe now she is ready to work on this. To work with the fox, for example. And Thankfully!!!!! she didn't take it as criticism. I didn't mean it like that at all. It's just realistically something I wonder about at times - is she ready for this (because if she's not, it's not going to help me anyway). She got what I was talking about! And I shared an article I found about working with persecutory alters and she asked if she could share it in a little intervision group she does about dissociation. So that's pretty cool as well. I hope she will learn more and get more comfortable with the subject.

We talked about creativity a bit more and then time was up.

[whitneyasif]

My DP/DR story

I was diagnosed with Depersonalization(DP)/Derealization(DR) disorder a few months ago, although I've experienced it since I was in high school, probably around 2012. At that time, I had no clue what it was. I remember first experiencing it after smoking weed with my friends, and still feeling "weird" and high the next day, and the day after that, all for about a week. Eventually, I guess I just stopped thinking about it so naturally, it was gone. I never really smoked much weed after that, thinking I'd never ever wanna feel that weird again. Flash forward to 2015 when my grandfather (who raised me, and was basically like my dad) suddenly passed from a brain tumor, it sparked up again, but once again went away and laid dormant. I was doing good, I got married and had two sons. Then, one of the worst things that could happen to a woman, happened to me. My husband died. He was robbed and killed in March of 2021, and my whole world crashed...and burned...badly. My anxiety was at an all-time high. I was paranoid, watching out of my window all night and not sleeping because I was so afraid. After months into my healing journey for the next year, I was doing better. I got back to work, and things were seeming to go back to "normal" for me. October of 2022 comes around, and my younger sister had relapsed and called me for help, asking to come to my house to detox and get clean. I agree and pick her up, and she is withdrawing pretty hard. I left home for about an hour to go help my sister-in-law who had a flat tire and needed a ride, and come home to my baby sister who was 23, dead in my bed. Probably the most devastating thing that I have ever gone through other than losing my husband. After that, a bunch of new mental health issues started to arrive and wouldn't you know it, here comes the DP/DR, full force, the worst it has ever been. I suffered for a few months of going in and out of "reality" and dissociative states and finally called a therapist. Almost immediately I was diagnosed to have DP/DR and PTSD. Although I knew I had it, it was still a relief for someone to listen to me and not make me feel crazy when I described my symptoms. Quite frankly, if you have ever experienced DP/DR you know just how crazy it makes you feel. Now at this point, you're probably wondering "Well, what does it do to you? How does it make you feel?". It can quite literally alter your mind. My symptoms are severe and can last for days. How I know I'm going into an "episode" is easy for me now, remember that I said easy to recognize, not that they are pleasant. I will start to see and hear things differently. Hearing things can seem muffled, or like someone is talking to you from another room. Vision change can be hard to describe, but the best way I can describe it is, you start seeing things in a somewhat hyper-real state, or that the world seems "not real". I think this is one of the most common symptoms for people who experience this, which is less than 2% of the population, by the way. Another thing that happens that is related to vision is, you feel like you are viewing things from a third person or out-of-body. Looking at yourself in the mirror, your friends, and even your children can feel unfamiliar. I remember looking in the mirror and even questioning if I was real. It can be alarming, and scary. When I would tell people I felt crazy. But I realized that I am not crazy. I am hurt. I am traumatized. The way my body deals with it is just inconvenient, honestly. I look at it like this... My brain is trying to protect me from all the pain, all the hurt, and make me feel like things are not real so I don't feel the pain. Being self-aware wants me to tell my brain to fucking stop the charade and let me hurt because I would rather be sad than feel like I don't exist. I have been working with my therapist to try to find breathing techniques that work or grounding exercises. I was even prescribed Lexapro, which I will be starting tonight. It's been a long journey, and I am even in an episode as I type this, but I know one day I will get better.

#trauma #ptsd #lexapro #drug overdose #depersonalization #derealization #dpdr #mental health #therapy

[dissociated-disciple]

I feel the need to say this since DID is becoming pretty big on TikTok:

Dissociative identity disorder is not fun.

Sure, there can be funny moments like depicted in the videos. Sometimes an alter can say something funny in the headspace, or put something in a weird place that you find funny the next time you front. But for the most part? It's absolutely not fun.

There's a reason why it's called a disorder. I feel like it's been said a million times, but I'll say it a million more if I have to:

Dissociative identity disorder is a form of extreme PTSD. You need to go through an amount and intensity of trauma which your brain cannot begin to process to have this disorder.

I can't speak for everyone's experiences, but let me speak for my own while living with this disorder:

Alters aren't the primary symptom. It's mostly PTSD symptoms that affect our everyday lives. I will have flashbacks of things that I don't remember due to my DID, so I don't even know how to recover or help myself since I can't remember what happened. Imagine having a wound that hurts and bleeds uncontrollably, but you're unable to tell the doctor what it is or where it's located. That's what it feels like.

My amnesia isn't as bad as others who have this disorder, but that doesn't mean I still don't have it. Sometimes I'll switch and an alter will take medication without me remembering, or make appointments/dates that I can't keep because I don't remember. Also, amnesia isn't always both ways. While I may be able to remember things, my alters will sometimes switch out and not be able to recall a thing. This makes communication difficult since I find myself watching through a one-way mirror that my alters can't always cross. This can also go the other way around.

We have no control over who becomes an alter. Let me repeat this: we have no control over who becomes an alter. I have fictive alters that I did not choose. My brain chose them to protect me. Splitting into someone who does not understand or recognize the real world is terrifying.

Switching is uncomfortable, painful, and disorienting at best. The dissociation that follows can take me out of an exam and cost precious time that I need to get back into focus. One of my alter only switches late at night, which causes nausea, which triggers his emetophobia—he'll stay up for hours watching videos to calm himself down while we wake up in the morning being exhausted because of the lack of sleep. We have no control over when we switch, or even who we switch into. Sometime we'll have what I call "blank switches" where it feels like a switch but nothing happens. I'm still in the front but I'm dissociated as hell and unable to focus.

I will have child alters that will be triggered out by height differences. This makes my relationship with my current boyfriend, who is over a foot taller than me, incredibly difficult.

I want to reiterate that alters are not the main symptom of DID. There's a reason why people with DID get misdiagnosed with BPD or bipolar — they can feel incredibly similar, especially when you take into account how everyone deals with trauma differently. Someone might spend a lot after a PTSD-induced panic attack, others might lock themselves away in their room for days. Not one person's PTSD is the exactly the same because not one person's trauma is exactly the same. Trauma responses can also change in life. Two years ago, I showed similar symptoms to BPD. Now that I'm in a healthier mental state, my trauma responses are different. This is normal, and dare I say healthy.

Above all, whatever you are dealing with — be it DID, BPD, bipolar, CPTSD, PTSD, anything — you are loved. You are loved if your symptoms are textbook or completely unique. You are loved if you can live peacefully with your disorder or dread waking up every day. I can't say this enough — you are loved. And if you don't believe in a God who loves you, please believe this: I love you. You are all in my thoughts and prayers, and I don't want you to live a day where you think nobody wants you. You are loved.

#mental health #trauma recovery #dissociative identity disorder #lol this turned from a psa to a love letter

[hollandsmushroom]

Lost In My Brain

Hello everyone, so this concept came from the very very depths of my brain as I went into a deep dissociative episode and I wrote this to pull myself out by imagining semi mob tom comforting me. 

REBLOGS AND COMMENTS MUCHLY APPRECIATED 

Tom Holland x Reader

Summary: You aren’t replying to Tom’s texts so he is really worried, he finds you in a state of trauma and unable to really communicate. 

Warnings: Please read this at your own comfort, I wrote this to help me cope and I thought someone else might want to read it. I have written about extremely personal topics in this and I am not talking about stuff that I don’t know anything about, I suffer from dissociative PTSD. So warnings really include mentions of an unidentified trauma, Dissociation, Dissociative PTSD, Loss of recognition of faces, mentions of Mob Tom, missing person?, Trauma that happened at night, intrusive thoughts, thoughts that you are actually dead. 

Masterlist

Request Here

Word Count: 1577

Tom’s meetings had run late, he had messaged you throughout the discussions to keep you updated and so you wouldn’t worry but it was him who worried as his phone remained void of any response from you. He began to grow antsy as the conversations just dragged on. He gave his input whenever he had to but most of his time was spent trying his hardest to seem as if he was paying attention and then checking his phone to see if you had responded, and every time his phone screen was blank. His worry was beginning to overtake his body, he worked in a dangerous profession and people knew that the best way to get to him was through loved ones, you being the main one. The thought of something bad having happened to you made his heart break, the thought of someone hurting you added to that made his blood boil. It wasn’t like he was overreacting, you were always very attentive to responding to him when he was in meetings, you knew that under his hard mobster outside he worried about you a great deal and if you could do anything to ease that, you would, and that is why he was freaking out to this extent. As soon as the meeting came to a close he left immediately, ignoring the people who tried to catch his attention on his way out, focused only on getting home to you. 

  Tom walked into the house, calling out your name and receiving no response in turn his heart beginning to pound as the silence reverberated in his ears. With an urgency he began making his way through the rooms of your shared house. He started in your bedroom, eyes landing on the perfectly made bed, signalling to him that you never went to bed, he made his way through the guest rooms, your office, the living room, by the time he reached the kitchen he was on the verge of tears. Hands grabbing on to the counter as he faced the empty living room, retrieving his phone from his slacks pocket and quickly dialing up his mate Harrison. 

“Mate?” Tom asked as he heard the phone be answered on the other end of the line. 

“Yeah?” His friends tired voice answered, clearly having been woken up by Tom’s call

“I can’t find Y/n, I don’t know where she is” At this point Tom felt like he was on the verge of breaking down, the idea that something had happened to you and he wasn’t there to protect you made him see red.

“Wait? You can’t find her?” there was a rustle from the other line, Harrison having sat straight up in bed, shock over taking him. 

“Yeah, mate and I am kind of starting to freak-” Tom spun around, leaning his back against the cool marble countertop when his eyes caught on the open sliding glass door leading to your backyard, a dark figure sitting on the cement ground rocking slightly. 

“Mate, I'm gonna have to call you back” he ignored his friend's words of worry as he hung up, placing the glowing screen face down on the counter and making his way outside. As soon as he passed the threshold of the door sniffles reached his ears. The weather wasn’t freezing but it definitely wasn’t warm enough for you to be sitting there in nothing but one of Tom’s shirts, bare thighs on the cool ground. 

“Love?” Tom called as he made his way to your quivering figure, shoulders throwing themselves back and forth as you attempted to rock yourself in comfort. He reached a hand out to your shoulder, but you flinched away from his touch causing his heart to shatter. With the jerk of your movement his eyes caught your face, tears staining your cheeks. 

“Love it's me” Tom assured, once again reaching his hand out to you, and this time you let him, his hand soothing over your shoulder causing it to cease its shaking as you eased into his touch. He did this gradually, progressively enveloping you further into his hold, a protective embrace, your face tucked into his chest as his hand rubbed up and down your back, trying to warm your body as you began to shiver from the night air. 

“Let's get you inside, darling” Tom’s soothing touch helping you off the ground. He grabbed your hand, gently moving you into the house, and led you to the bathroom. His hands grabbed your hips, placing you onto the bathroom counter, you sat there, eyes trained on the wall ahead as Tom dampened a washcloth, moving back to you to wipe the snot and tears off of your cheeks, he stood in your view for the first time, his hands reaching towards you as you examined his face, causing you quickly push him away, hurt flashing across his unknown feature as you distanced yourself from him, scooting back on the counter curling further into your own body. 

“Y/n?” His voice sounded defeated, reaching out again only for you to have the same reaction. His voice, you knew his voice, and his face didn’t seem completely unknown, something about him was familiar. It was so close to the face you loved so much but your eyes were distorting his features.

“I...I don’t know who you are?” He could have sworn he broke when you said that. 

“Baby, it’s me, it’s Tom” he cooed, trying to understand what was happening, fear bruning through his chest and all the way down to his gut, feeling as if his world was slipping from under his feet. 

“No, I-I know it’s you but..but I look at your face I don’t recognize it, it’s off, it’s not quite right and I don’t know who you are, you look like I stared at you for too long and you lost all feature, Tommy, I don’t know who you are and I don’t know who I am” your tears began to flow again as you looked in the mirror, your face was just a little bit off till it wasn’t your face anymore. You closed your eyes and shook your head violently causing Tom to gasp, reaching out and grabbing your shoulders to halt your movements. 

“Stop, baby, please stop, it’s me, it’s Tommy, I’m right here” his voice soothed you, peeling your eyes back open, you saw his face, it was right, it was your Tommy. 

“Tom?” His name but a question on your tongue as he cupped your cheek. 

“Yes it’s me,” the pad of his thumb brushed away tear streaks. “What’s happening, sweets, talk to me please” he pleaded, eyes begging you to let him know what was happening. 

“I’m dead Tommy” you explained but it only made it worse, yes widening comically as fear shot through his body. 

“W-what do you mean you’re dead?” His mind was racing, had someone put a hit on you? Did you need to go into hiding? He felt like he was falling into every possible issue that you could be having but he was cut off by your voice again. 

“I was thinking earlier and what if I died that night? What if I didn’t get out of the way? This is the after life” you mumbled, fully convinced that you had lost your mind. 

“You are not dead” Tom demanded 

“How do you know that” you whispered 

“Because I’m here, dusting with you, I can touch you and trace every mark in your body, I have my own life, I would have that if you were dead, and if you were why would it just be a continuation of your day to day, why are you freaking out if this is heaven” he tried to explain and something must have worked because your body eased, eyes drawing from your hands to his face. 

“This is real?” your voice sounded weak, so lost in your mind as your eyes seemed to glaze over. 

“Yes,  love this is real” he hummed, finally being able to wipe the tears from your face, his touch drawing you back from the farthest depths of your brain that you kept spiraling into “Now let’s get you to bed” Reaching past you he grabbed your toothbrush and toothpaste, preparing it for you to brush your teeth. You took your toothbrush from his hand as he leaned in and kissed your forehead lovingly, a tear slipping from his eye as he took in your defeated state, brushing it away before you could see and brushing his teeth as well. 

Moments later you fell into your bed, Tom’s arms wrapped securely around you as your back curved into his chest, you shook your head as you closed your eyes seeing everything you wished you could forget. 

“Tommy, I feel so lost in my brain, its like its yelling and every new thought just adds to the noise, continuing to bounce around with everyone else” You whispered as you shuttered. 

“I know it's not okay, my love, but I am here and I will be here, I will help you come back” he kissed your temple and held you as you fell asleep. He vowed to himself that he would be there for you, he would never let you go, give you a life that distanced yourself from that pain that haunted you. He would remind you everyday that you are alive. 

#tom holland #tomholland #tom holland imagine #tom holland fluff #tom holland one shot #tom holland x reader #tom holland x plus size reader #tom holland au #mob!tom #soft!tom #tom holland angst #angsty tom holland #tom holland x y/n #mob tom #mob!tom holland #mob!tom holland x reader

[the-peak-of-despair]

Toko Fukawa x Reader - prompts #86, #98

whateverthe said: Been in my mind for a while but i saw your angst prompts open and was like lets go ham |Toko having a fight with Reader but because toko cant handle herself very well she ends up kinda crumbling and leaving because she doesn't know how to fully defend herself even though you were in the wrong and sho has to go get you to to talk when shes in control cause although SHES not in love with you toko is, [Promts 86 , 98 ] ( i just find no platonic sho x toko :( where sho protects her or sum ]

I loved this idea! It’s very cool. I feel like some people don’t really know that Syo formed in Toko’s system in order to protect her, due to tramua. 

I used what information I know and do have on DID writing this, please let me know if I need to change anything! Not as angsty as the others, but I’m proud of it, considering I’m posting at 8 in the fucking morning-

Enjoy! -Mod Akane

“There’s gotta be a way to fix you, Toko!” 

“Wh-Who told you I needed fixing!? A-And why would you.. B-believe them!?” Toko yells angrily. 

“Look at yourself in a mirror, Toko!” (Y/N) shouts, causing their girlfriend to flinch from the volume, the gesture, the pure meaning. 

“I-I’m doing f-fine!” She tries to retaliate. Toko’s mind is racing, because she knows she’s right, and fine isn’t the right word but ‘fixing’ isn’t either. 

“No, you are not!” (Y/N) argues. “You are a wreck, Toko! You share a split personality with a fucking serial killer!” 

“I-It's not like I have control over her!” Toko shouts back. She’s shouting, but it looks like she’s starting to dissociate and distance herself slowly. “I-It’s not my fault..” 

“I know it’s not your fault, Toko.” (Y/N) says, wanting to scream again because why won’t she fucking listen, but withholding the frustration. “But that doesn’t change that something is wrong and needs to be fixed!”

“You’re not listening to me!” Toko shouts. “I-I-” She starts yanking on her hair, though her braids had fallen out long after she had been caught in Towa City, the habit never changed. “Just shut up! Shut up!” Toko screams, and she turns and begins to head out a door. 

“Where are you going?!” (Y/N) shouts.

“To go see Komaru!” Toko shouts. And the door doesn’t slam, but it felt like she wanted it to.

(Y/N) takes a few breaths, the air is still heated even as they’re by themselves now.

“FUCK!”

They inhale and exhale once more, knowing they need to calm down. Maybe they’d go sit outside. Try and figure out what to say when Toko gets back.

(Y/N) sighed, leaning back as they sat on the rooftop to their apartment building, staring up at a still ever-red sky. Toko had been gone for a while, and they hadn’t even seen her enter the building again. Figured she was upset, since everything flew off the handle.

“You know…” The person who began speaking halts. “You don’t seem to listen to Toko much.” (Y/N) certainly recognized that annoying voice. It was Syo. Of course. Just the person they needed to see. Full sarcasm.

“Don’t act like you care.” (Y/N) scoffs. “I know how much you wanna slit my throat.” They sit up, sighing as they see Syo sitting with her legs dangling over the edge of the rooftop, without a care in the world as her tongue hangs out. 

“I know!” She turns and smiles at (Y/N). “But I care about Toko.” Her smile fades.

“Last I heard, you two can’t tolerate each other.” (Y/N) looks away from her, watching the recovering city below.

“Did you tolerate your siblings when you were younger? Or, like, cousins?” Syo asks sarcastically. Her serious tone was so unfamiliar. “Sure, she’s lame, and a spaz, we don’t even share a memory, and whatever! But I’m meant to protect her.” 

(Y/N) raises a brow. “Protect her? You murder people.” 

“Kyahah, that’s not relevant!” She laughs. “You don't know how dissociative identity disorder works, huh? Ugh, that’s a mouthful!”

“Not exactly.” (Y/N) sighs. “Toko never told me details.” 

“I exist to protect her. That’s why I’m around!” Syo giggles. “Trauma forms people like me. People like me are stuck takin’ care of lame-o’s like Toko!”

“So you’re around cause Toko had trauma?” (Y/N) asks.

“Ugh, how clear can I make it? Yes!” Syo shouts. “There’s no fixin’ us, no gettin’ rid of me! It’s the only reason Toko’s still around, you know!” (Y/N) thinks for a second. And then they realize what Syo means by that.. “O-Oh.. my god.” 

“Yeahahah!” She laughs. “You’ve dug your own grave.” “..So how do you.. Know all this?” (Y/N) asks more slowly, careful as they process the new information Syo provides.

“We don’t exactly share a memory.” She says. “But we share a headspace. So there’s a general communication, Toko just isn’t up for communication!”

(Y/N) forces a small laugh. “That sounds like Toko, alright..”

“..How would you know?”

“Huh?” Syo pauses, before looking at them. “You don’t listen to her.” 

“..I’m trying my best.” (Y/N) states.

“Had you not been, and had she not loved you,” Syo begins to laugh- “I would’ve sliced ya’ like meat by now!” She grins. “But Toko loves you. So you should figure out a way to love her back.”

#toko fukawa #toko fukawa x reader #genocider syo #thh #danganronpa #danganronpa thh #danganronpa x reader #angst prompts #angst #mod akane

[petri808]

1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5 | 6 | 7 | 8 | 9 | 10 | 11 | 12 | 13 | 14 | 15 | 16 | 17 | 18 | 19 | 20 | 21 | 22 | 23 | 24 | 25 | 26 | 27 | 28 | 29 | 30-Epilogue

*TW: cutting, therapy, break down. a little longer then usual at 2500 words

The therapist greeted the couple as they walked in and sat down on the couch. “Thank you for allowing Natsu to sit in today, Lucy. I don’t want you to think of this as a couples counseling per se, because you’re still my primary client. But I feel that him being here to understand your struggles, as well as his, and being able to express them in a safe environment, will help in your healing process. And thank you Natsu for agreeing to this.”

He sat forward a bit, ready to engage. “Anything to help Lucy.”

“I’d like to start with your homework Lucy, has there been any progress in trying to write out your feelings? Remember, it’s okay if you’re still struggling with that, there’s no judgment here.”

“Not... really...” Lucy fidgeted with the hem of her sweatshirt. “Every time I try to, I-I get too... I start to cry, and the panic rises— I fail at it every single damn time and that makes me feel even worse.”

“You’re not failing. Let’s reword that to struggling and recognize that simply making an attempt is the first step, a very important one to be proud of.”

“Maybe I was just kidding myself all along about writing. Maybe it’s because I wasn’t any good in the first place. It was all in my head.” Lucy could see the frown on Natsu’s face from her words, but that’s how she feels now. There was a time she thought she was a decent writer, maybe not publishing quality yet, but she truly enjoyed it regardless and now, a blank page is all she could muster.

“Natsu,” the therapist directs her question to the man. “It seems you’re unhappy with her statement. Would you say that Lucy’s a good writer? Honest answer.”

“Yeah,” he shrugged, “I mean I’m no expert, but the stuff I’ve seen is pretty good. I definitely couldn’t pull them off.”

“Lucy would you call Natsu a liar?”

The blonde paused, annoyed and offended. She wanted to say yes, only because she didn’t want to agree, but then it wouldn’t be true. Natsu was giving his honest opinion and she couldn’t deny it. “No,” Lucy breathed out. “Look I get it. You’re trying to tell me it’s all in my head, right? It’s just the pain talking, and I’ll get better, and I’ll get back into writing just like before.” Anger had slowly begun to prickle the hairs on the back of her neck the longer she clung to the dissociation. “I-I’m not an idiot! I know this is all stupid shit in my brain! I just can’t stop it!”

“I’m sorry, I pushed you too hard, let’s go back a step here. No one is saying you’re an idiot. On the contrary, you’re very intelligent. If you weren’t, you wouldn’t be recognizing that it’s all in your head, and that recognition is how the healing starts. My role, today with Natsu’s help, is to bring that to the forefront. Bring it out into the open, because sometimes hearing it out loud has a different effect on how we process the information.”

“I don’t get it...”

The woman sat back in her chair in thought for a brief second. “When we think about things just in our head, versus saying it out loud, it triggers different parts of our brain. What studies have found is that talking out loud stimulates... rational... erm, reality I guess is a better term. It becomes more real to us.”

“Huh.” So, what, Lucy rolled her eyes at the suggestion. True or not, she didn’t want to agree, because her mind was still in such a strong state of denial. “I still don’t accept it. It sounds stupid.” Maybe it was just her annoyance talking, but the therapist was getting on her nerves. Lucy knew the woman was just trying to help, but her irrational side didn’t want to deal with any of this. The pain sucked, but so did the treatment. She just wanted to stay in her room, in the dark, away from prying eyes. Surprisingly to Lucy, the therapist didn’t even flinch and the gleam in the woman’s eyes almost looked sadistic in that moment.

“Lucy, I know you know it’s not stupid. That’s just your mind imagining the wrong things, which is why you need to talk about it out loud, so you can hear yourself and how wrong it all sounds.”

Ugh! She was so tired of being told what she is, what she should be thinking, and the condescending tone she wrongly assumed from the therapist triggered an explosion. All the anger she felt about herself was transferred to the therapist in an instant. “I’m wrong?!” Lucy jumped to her feet, her anger crackling through. “No shit! Lady, I’m fucked up!! You want me to talk? Fine! I hate this! I hate everything! It’s all falling the fuck apart and I feel like I’ve been tied to the damn train tracks! Everything I’ve worked so hard for is slipping away! Three years of college being washed down the drain! How the fuck do I catch up now?! I’m so behind! AARRRGHH!!! I-I don’t even wanna get out of bed anymore! I hate myself— hate what I’ve become a-and that makes me even more fucking depressed! And my friends...” Lucy dropped back onto the couch as her shaking hands flew up to cover her face and the dam of tears finally broke loose in a cascade down her cheeks. She cried long, and deep for several minutes, chest heaving and inconsolable.

In that moment, Natsu sat frozen, his eyes swinging back and forth to the therapist and his girlfriend unsure of what to do. Should he move to comfort Lucy? The therapists inaction seemed to suggest the answer was no. It made him furious, yet... she was the professional... before he could make a decision, Lucy finally uncovered her face and look dead at her therapist. Almost forgetting him all together.

“My friends, seeing the looks on their faces...” Lucy dug her fingers into the fabric of her pants in an effort to ground her unraveling mind. “It hurts so fucking much! I must be getting on Levy’s nerves, she didn’t sign up to be my nurse, a-and Natsu, he’ll surely get tired of a basket-case of a girlfriend. I can’t blame him if he left me, I’d leave me too. It’s all just falling apart—” Her chest heaved in a heavy sigh. “I can’t see a way out anymore.”

Seeing the whites of Lucy’s knuckles the harder she clenched onto her leg and seeing the heavy breathing similar to that night in the ambulance. Natsu feared that Lucy was heading towards a panic attack. Wanting to reassure her, Natsu reacted this time and reached up from his seat, quickly grabbing her arm to gain her attention. “Lucy, I’m not—.”

But Lucy screamed and yanked her arm back, face grimacing in pain. “Tsss—Owww!!”

“leavi—” Natsu pulled back immediately. “Oh, shit! I-I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to! Did I grab you too hard?!” He didn’t think so, but based on her reaction, maybe he had.

“N-No,” she cradled her arm, turning to shield it from him. “You didn’t, I’m fine, it just caught me by surprise.” Lucy quickly brushed it off for fear of requiring an explanation. “Really. S-Sorry, I-I’m probably just too flustered.”

But that explanation didn’t satisfy Natsu. Lucy’s yelp was clearly pain related if buttressed by the fact she continued to hide it. “You’re lying to me,” he reached out, “I’m not mad, just please tell me the truth because it’s obvious there’s something wrong with your arm.”

“N-No, I’m not,” she tried to act like it was true. “See,” she waved it as if showing it was fine. “Nothing’s wrong...” till she accidentally hit it again and flinched, biting her lip just in time to stifle a scream. But she knew in an instant that she’d been caught.

His eyes and tone softened in an effort to lower her inhibitions. “Yes, there is.” Natsu took her arm and started to pull up on the sleeve of her sweater.

Lucy instinctively turned her head away. She didn’t want to see his reaction to the bandage around her arm. Even when he continued to speak, questioned what was underneath it, she answered in one worded responses without looking. But at his gasping sound, her eyes closed in shame. She could see what he saw all from behind her eyelids, all the horizontal cuts running across her left arm. The red, angry lines in varying stages of healing. She kept most of it grouped around the middle of her arm between the wrist and elbow crook. At first, she’d tried what that EMT had done, merely jabbing her arm with a pen or digging her nails into the skin. But it wasn’t enough, so she’d moved onto cutting. It had started out small, just a couple of lines were enough to silence the horrid voices in her head, but like a junky’s tolerance, Lucy had to keep cutting, more and more, deeper, just to feel the same numbing results.

“Is this what I think it is?” Natsu’s shaky voice questioned with moisture filling his eyes. “Oh, Lucy, why didn’t you tell me it was this bad.” Now he knew why she’d started wearing long sleeves even when the weather was warm.

“I’m sorry... I didn’t want anyone to know... but it was the only thing making the voices stop.”

Without another word, Natsu pulled a surprised Lucy into a tight hug, tears of his own spilling. “No, I’m sorry, it’s my fault this is happening to you. I should have dealt with Touka long ago. I should have protected you better. This is on me, but Lucy I’m never gonna let you go, I won’t ever leave you because of this. We’re gonna get through this together. I swear on my life, we’re gonna get through this together. Do you believe me?? Please, tell me you believe me?”

“I do...” she did. The man wore his heart on his sleeve. It was a trait Lucy found most endearing, so how could her heart not accept his words? They sat there in an embrace while time stood still, and a small measure of relief fell over her. It wasn’t much, but it was a glimmer of hope, an ember, and one she hadn’t felt in a long time. This man who’d caged her on that train and captured her heart, she could easily pin all of her pain onto him, but he could also be her salvation. His strong arms wrapped around her broken frame made the scary world fall away, to remind her how much more she yearned to stay within it.

Once he felt Lucy’s body relax, Natsu pulled back, wiping away her tears as well as his own. “Is this the only area?” He gestured at her arm without judgment. And when she nodded, he let out a sigh of relief.

Now that the moment was waning, the therapist who’d been waiting patiently and observing spoke up. She offered the anxiety medications again to Lucy and with Natsu’s gentle coaxing, the blonde finally agreed to it. It couldn’t hurt right? If they didn’t work, she’ll just stop taking them. She didn’t want to see the anguish in Natsu’s eyes anymore, especially now that she realized how much he was internalizing and struggling alone with. He was in just as much pain as she was, so it was time they both do what they could to heal, together.

As they were about to leave, Natsu paused and questioned the doctor. “I have a question. I just realized, even though today was a big episode... Lucy didn’t have a panic attack. Why is that?”

The blonde looked at her boyfriend before her eyes landed on the therapist with an expectancy of an answer. She hadn’t realized that either. Shouldn’t her outburst have triggered one?

“I’m glad you asked,” the woman smiled. “Panic attacks are often triggered by suppression. When you’re trying to hold in your emotions, refusing to let it go, and not show it, but today Lucy let it out. She didn’t hold back so there was no need for her body to react physiologically.” She reached out and placed a gentle hand on Lucy’s shoulder. “Sometimes a good cry and scream goes a long way. Please remember that.”

It was quiet on the taxi ride back to Lucy’s apartment. Not an uncomfortable silence, but maybe just enough had been said in the hour long therapy session that they both still needed time to process it all. Despite her breakthrough, she knew it was still a long battle ahead. The poor coping skills she’d latched onto now needed to be reversed, and frankly she didn’t know if she could do it alone. Of course, she could ask Levy... and the woman did deserve to hear the truth going on... but Lucy really didn’t want to put that kind of pressure on her best friend. Levy had done so much for her already and as much as she appreciated it, it also contributed to her emotional pain. She glanced down at her hand held so tightly by Natsu and wondered... no... The man was struggling as well, so to add hers into his mix, is that really fair? But by that same token, their pain was also a shared one. If there was anything to take away from the session is that perhaps it is together, they’ll better find the end of the rainbow.

Once they arrive at the building and get out of the taxi, Natsu started walking towards it. Lucy tugged back to stop him. “Lucy?”

“Before we go in...” her voice lowers, hesitancy brimming in her tone. “I have a question to ask.”

“Of course, anything.”

“I can’t—, don’t want to do this alone anymore. But I also don’t want to put that kind of burden on Levy.”

“Lucy,” he pulled her hand up, clasped between his palms to his lips where he kissed the fingers gently. “I will do whatever you need me to do.”

She sighed. “Can I move in with you? A-At least until I get control of the panic attacks and the... the thing?” Her eyes flit to her arm rather than say the words aloud. “I know this would intrude on Gray, but I would feel much safer.”

Natsu paused for a second in thought. “I don’t think Gray will mind. I certainly don’t.” He smiled. “We’ll be there for each other.”

“Are you sure? Because there’s still a few things I haven’t mentioned like nightmares. I-I don’t wanna freak you guys out.”

“A promise is a promise, and when I said I’ll do anything, I meant it. Will it be scary, probably, I’m not gonna lie, but I’m willing to do whatever I need to get us through this.”

Lucy’s eyes gloss over, but a tiny smile ticks up at the corners of her lips. “Thank you, Natsu.”

He smiled back, “I’m the one who should be thankful.”

“For what?”

“For not dumping me. As much you’d worried, I’d leave you, I was deathly afraid you’d leave me. I brought this on us, so I wouldn’t blame you from running away.”

“Oh, Natsu.” This time a true smile finally graced Lucy’s face. “I’m not going anywhere either.”

#nalu #nalu au #nalu fan fiction #nalu fan fic #Natsu dragneel #Lucy heartfilia #Natsu x lucy #strangers on a train #ch 26 #tw cutting

[the-courage-to-heal]

When you witness or experience something terrible, you may try not to think about it. To help you, your brain may call on one of its most creative and ingenious coping strategies to keep you going: dissociation.In the simplest terms, dissociation is a mental block between your awareness and parts of your world that feel too scary to know.

Dissociation happens to just about everybody at some time. It takes many different forms for different people. But for people with a complex trauma history, dissociation keeps the brain in survival mode. Nobody can endure a constant state of fear and still function well. You can’t get through life unscathed while always feeling frozen, worried or shut down by your greatest fears. Dissociation can function as protection, by keeping people unaware of the distress of being traumatized. That’s when it can eventually cause problems for people who have been hurt very badly, especially as children.

Children are especially likely to use dissociation to manage the inescapable pain of family problems that lead to complex, developmental and relational trauma. Such problems can include ongoing abuse, neglect or disorganized, avoidant or insecure attachment. Children must do something to endure experiences that make them feel unsafe. They cope by becoming disconnected to the memories, feelings and body sensations that are too much to bear. On the outside, they may look okay. But constant dissociation as a means of protection or survival for years then follows them into adult life, where it doesn’t work so well. As a coping mechanism, dissociation often interferes with the life a person wants to have, when the abuse is no longer ongoing in the present.

When dissociation blocks awareness of pain, it can also obscure the path to healing. So let’s take a close look at dissociation as a coping mechanism for trauma survivors. If we can safely see where it comes from, and how it evolves, we can also see what healing looks like.

What is Dissociation?

Dissociation is a state of disconnection from the here and now. When people are dissociating, they are less aware (or unaware) of their surroundings or inner sensations. Reduced awareness is one way to cope with triggers in the environment or from memories that would otherwise reawaken a sense of immediate danger. Triggers are reminders of unhealed trauma, and associated strong emotions such as panic and fear. Blocking awareness of sensations is a way to avoid possible triggers, which protects against the risk of becoming flooded by emotions like fear, anxiety and shame. Dissociation allows you to stop feeling. Dissociation can happen during an experience which is overwhelming and which you can’t escape (causing trauma), or later on when thinking about or being reminded of the trauma.

Dissociation is a coping mechanism allowing a person to function in daily life by continuing to avoid being overwhelmed by extremely stressful experiences, both in the past and present. Even if the threat has passed, your brain still says “danger.” Unprocessed, these fears may stop you from living the life you want or changing unhelpful behaviors as you grow. Some level of dissociation is normal; we all do it. For example, when we get to work and have to leave the personal concerns behind, we choose to put them out of mind for a while. But when dissociation is learned as a coping strategy – especially in childhood for survival purposes – it carries over into adulthood as an automatic response, not a choice.

Children with Trauma Are More Likely to Experience Dissociation

As a protective strategy for coping with trauma, dissociation can be one the most creative coping skills a trauma survivor perfects. It detaches awareness from one’s surroundings, body sensations and feelings. Children who experience complex trauma are especially likely to develop dissociation. It often co-occurs with the earliest incidents of recurrent trauma, since the only way to survive the horrific experiences emotionally is to not be there consciously. There are many possible conditions that cause dissociation. Therapists are aware and focus their understanding of dissociation in connection with the underlying trauma – what happened to you.

A few simple examples of risk factors for dissociation are:

• A disorganized attachment style. Trauma inflicted by abuse from a primary attachment figure, for elementary school age children, can lead to dissociative disorders for the child. When someone the child depends on for survival is also a source of physical, sexual, or emotional abuse, a protective response is to vacate being present in their body in order to survive the abuse, while preserving the needed family tie or even their life.

• An insecure attachment style. A child consciously develops behaviors or habits to dissociate, like using loud music, so they don’t hear frightening arguments between parents that terrify, for example. They may turn to video games or other distractions while dad paces the floor worried because mom is out drinking.

• Recurrent abuse or neglect that threatens a sense of safety and survival of any kind, by anyone!

• Post-traumatic stress disorder (PTSD) and Complex PTSD (C-PTSD). Dissociation to cope with events that cause PTSD or C-PTSD (developmental, relational ongoing trauma) can include out-of-body responses to trauma. A neurological response causes some trauma survivors to dissociate to a level where they look out at their bodies from another perspective. This can be looking down from above or looking at a part of their body that doesn’t appear to belong to them.

Dissociation occurs on a continuum, often impacted by how long or often one relies on it, whether the person has any other coping strategies, or whether other trusted helpers or a safe space is available. Helpers or places where the child feels secure can provide a way to safely be connected to feelings, sensations and body, despite the overwhelm elsewhere.

Childhood Dissociation Persists In Adulthood

As children with trauma get older, they may use self-harm, food, drugs, alcohol, or any other coping mechanism to maintain the disconnection from unhealed trauma. As therapists, we see these behaviors serving two functions for trauma survivors

As a dissociative mechanism or way to dissociate (for example, using alcohol or drugs to physically disconnect them from their thinking brain) As a way to sustain behaviors that keep them dissociated (I’m not connected to my body, so I can cut without pain, or I’m not connected to my body, so I don’t notice that I’m full and don’t need more food to consume). Ultimately, this coping strategy that was useful in childhood, in adulthood compromises abilities to trust, attach, socialize, and provide good self-care. These challenges follow trauma survivors throughout their life, if not attended to.

Recognizing Dissociation In Adults

Adults don’t just outgrow dissociation learned as a childhood coping skill. It likely becomes a go-to coping mechanism for maintaining life. Adults may not be aware of their ongoing state of dissociation, while words and actions like these tell a different story:

• Someone tells a therapist their most traumatic experiences without knowing or trusting them first and does so without emotion connected to the story; they are speaking from a dissociated place.

• Someone uses drugs, alcohol, cutting, food, pornography, or other forms of self-injurious behavior to continue to dissociate and not be present with their feelings.

• Someone disconnects from the here and now when they’re triggered by a certain situation or even a scent, such as cologne, and find themselves inside a flashback which feels very real.

• A veteran hears a noise that causes a flashback to a wartime event.

• Someone is arguing with their spouse, but when their spouse yells, they “check out.”

Dissociation is sometimes the best way a person can survive a terrifying ordeal in the moment, or chronic developmental trauma over many years. Yet it actually becomes a problem, a roadblock, in adult life. Dissociation interferes with forming secure relationships and connections. Dissociation can prevent you from developing these relationships or being present for them.

The reality is, in your adult life, you may actually be safer today learning to notice, reconnect and reintegrate the dissociated parts. Perhaps you are safe now and don’t need this coping mechanism to protect you anymore! Most times, an individual will show up in therapy for some other reason besides the use of “dissociation” or even trauma—they are there because they feel sad, or are drinking too much or fighting with their spouse. They can’t figure out why these issues persist, as they have a nice life now. As trauma-informed therapists, we can help people safely discover what issues are showing up due to their past history. We can help them discover and notice what made sense at the time given what was going on in their life that they had to survive. We can help people understand they are not “bad” and something is not wrong with them – their issues are based on the dissociative coping skills they learned in childhood to survive (which were very useful at the time, but not anymore)!

source

#dissociation #healing #trauma survivor #trauma

[furiousgoldfish]

Personal post; on trauma, measures to deal with osdd, and this blog

I'm at a weird place right now where sometimes, I can be functional for a little while, and then sometimes not, and I've learned that for my specific condition, it simply takes a lot of maintenance and constant actions I have to do in order to stay functional. This kills my vibe because I don't like routines, I don't like having constant chores to do, I always wanted to live impulsively and do things as they come to mind. I've been resistant to the idea that I have to maintain my mental health constantly, but at this point I have to admit that doing the maintenance and being functional is far far preferable to not doing it, and then falling out of function, and being in a lousy shape in bed in chronic pain and exhaustion.

Stuff I need to do isn't the regular self care, it's dictated by alters and their wants. It seems that as a kid, I had to be separated and dissociated from any human need, so most of the time I will just want for nothing and feel zero desires. My alters are the ones holding all of my needs and wants, and for a long time, I've been just shutting them down, because I didn't think I could fulfill any, I didn't think it makes sense fulfilling it, I didn't believe it would make me happy, and I didn't think I should indulge too far with alters anyway because of some bad advice I read on the internet (haven't we all).

Indulging with my protective alter led me to take care of my appearance a little more and to communicate with people in ways that makes sure I get something out of it, which to me personally sounds utterly evil, but they're convincing me it's normal to have both-sided gain in an interaction. Indulging with my child alter has led to me going to parks more, sitting on swings, eating more candy (so much candy), being randomly silly and just doing ridiculous cringy stuff that I personally don't see a point in doing, but if I do it, my child alter doesn't cause me to fall into depression, and that is a very worthy goal to pursue.

Sometimes, however, maintenance doesn't help either, and I'm currently in that state, stuck in the bed, unable to go out, or do chores, take care of myself or my alters, and I've been simmering in guilt for days, only to finally accept it now. I'll be able to move, when I'm able to move, and no amount of shame will help me get there sooner. I didn't fail and cause this, I'm ill and that's not my fault. If all I can do is stay in bed, then it's my best, and I have to accept that.

I don't know if I've been leaving an impression of a person who is doing well or is well put together, if I'm honest, a lot of this blog was written while I was just done having flashbacks, or trauma episodes. Sometimes I would write it still crying or engulfed by rage, and then after a few days when I would gather my thoughts better, I would re-write it or write it again. I would also write every time I had a realization, or when I would realize a certain problem came from a certain type of abuse. Some posts were created after research, some when I realized some other things weren't obvious to everyone. Sometimes people would talk to me and I would realize where exactly they needed reassurance or additional info, and I'd write about that. And most often, I would just write it to myself. I don't get anyone saying these things to me, and when I write them out to myself, I feel comforted. I feel better, if I'm kind to myself. And then if other people agree, I feel as if they've comforted me too, just by saying 'yeah, that's correct!' or 'I needed to hear this too'.

I remember some 10 years in the past, I was just coming down with ptsd, and I didn’t know what it was, it was a spiral of panic to discover that nobody really knew anything about it. In the place where I live, it's not recognized as a real disorder unless you've participated in a war. I talked to several psychologists, psychiatrists, and a wide variety of people to see what they thought, and nobody recognized it or could tell me what was wrong with me. If I mentioned I suspected it was ptsd, I would be shut down immediately, by every single person. I read every book and every article I could find, rummaged thru any blog and social media, talked to other people who struggled with abuse and still I learned obscenely little. Or, the things I've learned were already obvious to me, and a lot of information was plain wrong, unhelpful, biased against victims, silencing, explaining away, blaming, shaming, teaching how suppress or ignore symptoms, teaching how to forcefully push the emotions back in, how to endure more, how to pretend to be normal. I resented it. I didn't want to repress or act normal, I wanted to explode and feel everything at once, even if it killed me. Soon I was to realize that, it would, in fact, kill me if I continued to try to do that. I learned very slowly that I have to feel only in small waves and episodes, if I want my life to be livable in any way.

I went on to study everything about child abuse and ptsd that was possible to find for 5 years. I was disturbed by the lack of resources, and kept gathering what I knew, kept exploring how it worked on myself, and I felt guilty for every piece of knowledge I harbored, because I knew it should be shared. Everyone should know it, everyone should have resources, and know that abuse effects us in this way, that this is what happens. Speaking to people in private had no results, because this isn't the stuff people want to hear, it's stuff they have to discover. Pushing this on people has only bad results. Nobody wants another person to explain their life to them. It's rude, presumptive and ineffective.

When I started writing, I was relieved I could finally put out what I knew should be available, but I was also cautious and afraid, because at that point I knew that I was taking a stand against something powerful. I expected to be shut down immediately, and by a miracle, I wasn't. Very few people attacked me and fought against my information (for instance, insisting children need to be hit, trauma shouldn't be talked about, traumatized people need to just suck it and stop being the way they are), and I could easily see their motivation, shutting down victims, protecting abusers. So I could easily block them and know that this is not an opponent to argue against, I just needed to convince the victims that they're right.

It took a long time, way longer than I expected, to get to the serious backlash, and at that point I wasn't surprised. In the meantime, so many other trauma-resource blogs popped up, I felt that even if I am taken down, the change has been made. I don't think I've contributed much, the survivors themselves started figuring it out, just like I did, and stood against what was hurting them. They've changed the public mindset, shared their knowledge, and helped others escape from abuse. I couldn't be more happy or grateful for it. Predictably, the backlash came for all of us, and it surprised me that at this point, we all were a threat enough for abusers to actually organize and attack us as a group. I haven't seen that before, though abusers do very much validate each other and support each other's ways whenever interacting, they usually rarely go for group effort to subdue victims, and I only hope that we can do the same, organize and stand our ground as a community.

I felt isolated when when I was first targeted; and there was the initial shock at the hatred and contempt that was shown to me, twisting my words back to me and assuming the worst intentions. When it happens, at first you can't react calmly, you feel like it's deserved, you doubt yourself. I questioned if I did write something harmful, and even if it was a long time ago, was it irresponsible and harming someone? Do I deserve people to unconditionally despise and hate me for my wrongdoings? But in the end, I realized it mattered very little what I wrote. It would have been misrepresented, twisted and used against me anyway. Anything can be taken out of context and presented as evidence of an 'evil monster' if someone tries hard enough – and of course these people tried very hard.

These people didn't want an apology or admission of guilt, which they could have easily gotten from someone as easy to guilt as me – they wanted a complete shut down, deletion of all of my content, my blog erased. I knew that wasn't right. Thousands of messages thanking me for the content, saying how it helped them feel less horrible, or even escape, that wasn't fake. If I was wrong once, it didn't mean everything I ever did needed to be destroyed. The fight isn't against me personally. It was just about suppressing information about abuse, and protecting abusers.

I later found out that all of the blogs that were most heavily affected by trauma were targeted – people struggling with ptsd, cptsd, did, osdd, all of those hit by the extreme abuse were now scapegoated and written about in modern-type language as 'bigots and ableists', like it made any kind of sense that people struggling the worst and sharing advice, comfort and resources, would be someone who needs to be kicked out of the community. The words 'violent' were thrown into every accusation, as if the action of spreading support and information to victims of abuse could be any form of violence. Abuse of language to accuse victims of what they will find the most triggering – violence.

Due to the harassment and threats, for a while, writing this blog became a problem for my mental health. My protective alter told me to back out of it, and some of my friends, horrified when I told them whats up, told me to give it up. But I couldn't do it. The messages of people telling me how my work helped them, are the only thing that kept me going thru my ptsd. Often in the past, I was doing very little except for writing this blog, and people coming to tell me that it helped, were the only proof that I wasn't worthless, proof it was good that I was still alive. It was even comforting me to read my own blog sometimes, when the self doubt kicked in.

Abusers then decided then to attack anyone who dares to interact, and of course, by using the modern language of anonymous message saying 'block this person, they're actually the big bad in the world, you're evil for sharing this!'. And it was always anonymous, because they always had something to hide. I thought it would be very obvious what they're doing, because harassing victims is so obviously evil, but I realize now it would work, because the targets of it are the children, mostly abused children, that the abusers are intimidating and very loudly insisting do as they say. Of course it would work on children. Of course the most loud and scary person telling them to distance themselves from abuse resources because the writer is secretly evil, will sound normal and legit, and it will be something they're compelled to obey. This again, prompted me to consider if what I'm doing is helping, because now there's kids being harassed over it, people getting intimidated and scared from the backlash directed at not me, but them. But then we'll be going back to the past. To the place where resources don't exist. That's exactly what the abusers want.

And I considered doing so many things to migitate the damage, to re-direct it back to myself, to try to defend myself – and I couldn't do it. Because it's already been enough of arguing. Someone getting convinced on a single user twice over whether they're good or bad, is just extra stress. It doesn't hurt me the slightest if there are many people considering me to be evil or malicious. I just need to make sure that the resources are still available. It's what's being fought against, and what I'm trying to protect. Even if my contribution is just a small one, if it helps someone, it's something worth protecting. And I love writing this blog. I'm surprised at how much I still have to say, almost every single day. Abuse is so prevalent and integrated in this world, and the effects are so overwhelming and lasting, that there's no end to writing about it.

#osdd #trauma blogs on tumblr #cptsd #personal post #okay to reblog #long post #talking about the past #so much has changed #but the backlash against abuse resources is still there #there's a reason why almost none existed at the moment i needed them #people already fought very hard to silence and intimidate victims #and to stop any creation of support and resources for us #thats why i had to figure it out all on my own #and other people had to do it too #and i don't want the new generation to have to do it again #we have to make the world better for them

[waritawrites]

Gender Dysphoria & Trauma

https://followerofthewayforever.wordpress.com/2021/07/08/gender-dysphoria-trauma/

Gender Dysphoria seems to happen to some when trauma has occur. Taking on the opposite gender can be at least four things: Defense Mechanism, Self-Comfort, Escapism, and Symbolic Rejection.

- Defense Mechanism

°One takes the strength if the opposite

gender as shield to protect. In cases where parent of the opposite gender was neglectful or abusive, the person takes on an identity that is dominated by the strength that the parent in question lacked.

- Self-Comfort

°Similar to Defense Mechanism and often a defense mechanism in and of it itself self-comfort. Using opposite gender traits to comfort oneself, especially in cases of Dissociative Identity Disorder, is a way of giving oneself self-validation and assurance that things will get better. That you will get better.

- Escapism

°You just don't want to be you anymore. It hurts too bad. You want start anew in a different way.

- Symbolic Rejection

°Seeing bad examples set by a signifcant person(s), such as a son being traumatized by the actions of an abusive father, may cause the son to reject his own male identity because he wants to be nothing like his father.

For those dealing with these issues, please seek GOD. I know it may sound cliché. However, GOD is a healer and HE teaches us how to overcome and triumph the most horrible things that happen to us.

Philippians 4

1Therefore, my brethren dearly beloved and longed for, my joy and crown, so stand fast in the Lord, my dearly beloved.

2I beseech Euodias, and beseech Syntyche, that they be of the same mind in the Lord.

3And I intreat thee also, true yokefellow, help those women which laboured with me in the gospel, with Clement also, and with other my fellowlabourers, whose names are in the book of life.

4Rejoice in the Lord alway: and again I say, Rejoice.

5Let your moderation be known unto all men. The Lord is at hand.

6Be careful for nothing; but in every thing by prayer and supplication with thanksgiving let your requests be made known unto God.

7And the peace of God, which passeth all understanding, shall keep your hearts and minds through Christ Jesus.

8Finally, brethren, whatsoever things are true, whatsoever things are honest, whatsoever things are just, whatsoever things are pure, whatsoever things are lovely, whatsoever things are of good report; if there be any virtue, and if there be any praise, think on these things.

9Those things, which ye have both learned, and received, and heard, and seen in me, do: and the God of peace shall be with you.

10But I rejoiced in the Lord greatly, that now at the last your care of me hath flourished again; wherein ye were also careful, but ye lacked opportunity.

11Not that I speak in respect of want: for I have learned, in whatsoever state I am, therewith to be content.

12I know both how to be abased, and I know how to abound: every where and in all things I am instructed both to be full and to be hungry, both to abound and to suffer need.

13I can do all things through Christ which strengtheneth me.

14Notwithstanding ye have well done, that ye did communicate with my affliction.

15Now ye Philippians know also, that in the beginning of the gospel, when I departed from Macedonia, no church communicated with me as concerning giving and receiving, but ye only.

16For even in Thessalonica ye sent once and again unto my necessity.

17Not because I desire a gift: but I desire fruit that may abound to your account.

18But I have all, and abound: I am full, having received of Epaphroditus the things which were sent from you, an odour of a sweet smell, a sacrifice acceptable, wellpleasing to God.

19But my God shall supply all your need according to his riches in glory by Christ Jesus.

20Now unto God and our Father be glory for ever and ever. Amen.

21Salute every saint in Christ Jesus. The brethren which are with me greet you.

22All the saints salute you, chiefly they that are of Caesar's household.

23The grace of our Lord Jesus Christ be with you all. Amen. (To the Philippians written from Rome, by Epaphroditus.)

We don't have to be in bondage to trauma. We need not base our every decision on trauma. We are in a spiritual war that manifests in this physical world. Satan is our enemy. He uses trauma to weaken and destroy us. He even uses it to get us on his side in a twisted way. satan is the abuser who beats you then tells you he loves you afterward. Like many abusers who want to separate their victims from those who love them, satan wants to separate you from the Love of GOD. GOD gives us all free will, the freedom to choose life or death. It is satan's goal to tempt us all to choose death and destruction. Please resist him.

1 Peter 5:8

“Be sober, be vigilant; because your adversary the devil, as a roaring lion, walketh about, seeking whom he may devour:"

satan is a thief and a murderer. he wants us to destroy ourselves and those around us. he wants to steal our lives, steal our souls, and destroy us. Jesus, God The Son, says in John 10:10:

John 10:10

10The thief cometh not, but for to steal, and to kill, and to destroy: I am come that they might have life, and that they might have it more abundantly.

satan wants us to believe that it is GOD's fault for letting the trauma happen. satan doesn't was us to recognize that he is source of trauma. he does not want us to see that he is working through those that hurt you. satan and his kingdom of darkness are your abuser. he will stop at nothing to prevent you from holding onto GOD, even if he has to pretend to be GOD to deceive into turning to him. Here is what GOD, speaking through the writings of Paul, said of satan, satan's false ministers as well as Paul speaking on the victory that he has in GOD even in tribulation, 2 Corinthians 11:

2 Corinthians 11

1Would to God ye could bear with me a little in my folly: and indeed bear with me.

2For I am jealous over you with godly jealousy: for I have espoused you to one husband, that I may present you as a chaste virgin to Christ.

3But I fear, lest by any means, as the serpent beguiled Eve through his subtilty, so your minds should be corrupted from the simplicity that is in Christ.

4For if he that cometh preacheth another Jesus, whom we have not preached, or if ye receive another spirit, which ye have not received, or another gospel, which ye have not accepted, ye might well bear with him.

5For I suppose I was not a whit behind the very chiefest apostles.

6But though I be rude in speech, yet not in knowledge; but we have been throughly made manifest among you in all things.

7Have I committed an offence in abasing myself that ye might be exalted, because I have preached to you the gospel of God freely?

8I robbed other churches, taking wages of them, to do you service.

9And when I was present with you, and wanted, I was chargeable to no man: for that which was lacking to me the brethren which came from Macedonia supplied: and in all things I have kept myself from being burdensome unto you, and so will I keep myself.

10As the truth of Christ is in me, no man shall stop me of this boasting in the regions of Achaia.

11Wherefore? because I love you not? God knoweth.

12But what I do, that I will do, that I may cut off occasion from them which desire occasion; that wherein they glory, they may be found even as we.

13For such are false apostles, deceitful workers, transforming themselves into the apostles of Christ.

14And no marvel; for Satan himself is transformed into an angel of light.

15Therefore it is no great thing if his ministers also be transformed as the ministers of righteousness; whose end shall be according to their works.

16I say again, Let no man think me a fool; if otherwise, yet as a fool receive me, that I may boast myself a little.

17That which I speak, I speak it not after the Lord, but as it were foolishly, in this confidence of boasting.

18Seeing that many glory after the flesh, I will glory also.

19For ye suffer fools gladly, seeing ye yourselves are wise.

20For ye suffer, if a man bring you into bondage, if a man devour you, if a man take of you, if a man exalt himself, if a man smite you on the face.

21I speak as concerning reproach, as though we had been weak. Howbeit whereinsoever any is bold, (I speak foolishly,) I am bold also.

22Are they Hebrews? so am I. Are they Israelites? so am I. Are they the seed of Abraham? so am I.

23Are they ministers of Christ? (I speak as a fool) I am more; in labours more abundant, in stripes above measure, in prisons more frequent, in deaths oft.

24Of the Jews five times received I forty stripes save one.

25Thrice was I beaten with rods, once was I stoned, thrice I suffered shipwreck, a night and a day I have been in the deep;

26In journeyings often, in perils of waters, in perils of robbers, in perils by mine own countrymen, in perils by the heathen, in perils in the city, in perils in the wilderness, in perils in the sea, in perils among false brethren;

27In weariness and painfulness, in watchings often, in hunger and thirst, in fastings often, in cold and nakedness.

28Beside those things that are without, that which cometh upon me daily, the care of all the churches.

29Who is weak, and I am not weak? who is offended, and I burn not?

30If I must needs glory, I will glory of the things which concern mine infirmities.

31The God and Father of our Lord Jesus Christ, which is blessed for evermore, knoweth that I lie not.

32In Damascus the governor under Aretas the king kept the city of the Damascenes with a garrison, desirous to apprehend me:

33And through a window in a basket was I let down by the wall, and escaped his hands.

#GOD #Yahweh #Jesus #HolySpirit #HolyGhost #TheBible #HolyBible #Christianity #genderdysphoria #sexuality #christianity #homosexuality #transgender #transgenderism #satan #trauma #abuse #virtualreality #roleplayinggames #rpg #imvu #secondlife #avakin #dissociativeidentitydisorder #DID

#gender dysphoria #gender identity #sexuality #transgender #transgenderism #dissociative identity disorder #DID #GOD #Jesus #Holy Spirit #Holy Ghost #Holy Bible #Christianity #trauma #abuse #satan

[velkynkarma]

So I’m suuuper late to the party, but I finally, finally finished Rhythm of War. 

I am delighted by it. Thoughts and reactions under the cut, just in case for spoilers.

OKAY SO I had a lot of feelings about this book, and I wanted to be able to sit down and read the book properly and devote time to it, instead of sneaking paragraphs here or there during work breaks. So that’s why it took me so long to read it. In a way I feel like a terrible fan for taking so long when I was so excited about reading it for over a year, but in another way I am satisfied that I did it justice.

General thoughts/reactions:

I am legitimately impressed with how well Sanderson handled Shallan’s Dissociative Identity Disorder. DID is one of those mental illnesses that gets butchered so hard in media, and carries such a stigma of being “evil” or “creepy.” But Shallan’s representation seems much more factual in terms of how we know DID works today, including but not limited to:

Created from a severe trauma at a very young age, in which the brain starts splitting itself in order to protect against traumas and form survival mechanisms

Alters exist to protect the system and handle tasks for the host that the host cannot handle. Both Veil and Radiant handle tasks/functions that Shallan can’t

Also establishing that different alters can have different skills (such as Shallan being good at drawing and Lightweaving while Veil is bad at it, or Radiant handling espionage poorly)

Establishing that actual DID treatments do include encouraging alters to learn to work together and establish communication lines between each other. I like that the three create a pact to work together and rules to stand by and enforce them on each other to the best of their ability. They mess up sometimes (Radiant killing Ialai, Veil forcibly taking over sometimes). But they try. 

But also establishing that prior to Shallan’s realization of what was happening at the end of Oathbringer, each of these alters had their own memories and ways of handling things and did not necessarily communicate with each other

Establishing that multiple times in prior books when Shallan thought she was ‘acting’ she was actually Blending with another identity, either Veil or Radiant. This becomes more apparent when Veil or Radiant actively discuss being the ones to do things that were previously from “Shallan’s” perspective (such as Veil learning slight of hand/etc at the beginning of Words of Radiance). This stuck out to me as especially interesting since accounts of people with DID often mention not knowing they have it or are switching for years, but being semi-aware of doing things differently than normal. 

Veil being a protector-type alter and a trauma holder is extraordinarily common in DID cases and made an absolute ton of sense. It also suggests that she’s been around for YEARS longer than before Shallan ‘created’ her which, again, is not uncommon with DID cases

Veil, at least, also acts like she’s much older than Shallan, even calling her things like ‘kid.’ While Veil is, of course, no older than Shallan, this is completely accurate that alters can have different ages and even different genders to the host body in terms of how they perceive themselves

Establishing that fusions/integrations are possible, with Veil being ‘absorbed’ by Shallan at the end. This is a part of DID treatment and I like that it was handled in a way where both alters consented and the trauma was released, but it was handled. Even if Veil developed additional skills over time, it’s clear her first and foremost job was as a trauma holder alter, and once the trauma was no longer being hidden, her ‘purpose’ was done. And now Veil is a part of Shallan, and the expectation is that somewhere down the line, Radiant will join too.

Very very VERY VERY importantly, establishing Shallan’s interaction with other characters as a system with DID in a way that did not make her look like she was ‘crazy.’ DID is super serious and systems are often stigmatized. But I adored that Adolin is supportive and treats each alter on their own playing field (and even seems to be able to recognize them without Shallan changing hair color). I love that other characters like Kaladin admit they don’t exactly get it, but do their best to be respectful of it anyway. I love that nobody treats Shallan like a freak and sticks her in a padded room, and that people DO respect her wishes and treat Veil and Radiant as equally viable people. I love that it’s treated so healthily. 

Honestly my only real ‘hmm, not exactly like that’ moments were thinking back on how Shallan ‘created’ personalities. Veil being a trauma holder for Shallan’s old memories implies she’s been around for a long time, so she wasn’t really “created” in that sense, just given more of a face/name. But Radiant appears to have been created spur of the moment when Adolin was all ‘hey, let me teach you to swordfight!!!’ To the best of my knowledge people with DID don’t really have control over when they split, nor do they really get to actively ‘design’ their alters. It’s more like alters form as needed to handle something. But considering how accurate everything else is, and that possibly this is just Shallan’s way of handling her splitting in a way that makes sense to her, I’m willing to give this a cautious pass.

Also maybe lost memory moments. People with DID generally can lose time. Shallan doesn’t seem to, but then towards the end we also see she’s not a reliable narrator in her own right, since somehow Radiant managed to kill Ialai when we’re reading that passage. So it’s possible we the readers are missing things because Shallan is, too.

That said, the way DID works, it will never really go away even if Shallan does fully integrate. I’m curious if more alters could form down the line. I thought this had been happening with ‘Formless,’ but Formless didn’t turn out to be another alter so much. Oh well.

I had wondered about Shallan and Pattern’s bond for a while, and I’d been wondering if maybe she had a different spren ever since Pattern mentioned he could go away or she might kill him too back in...Oathbringer, I think it was? It seemed strange to me that Shallan wouldn’t have seen him around for a long time in his pattern form, or that she’d get chased by so many cryptics in book 1, if she’d been bonded to him this whole time. Or that she had a shardblade she could summon in book 1, but Pattern hadn’t been established as a character yet. And then when Adolin met a deadeye Cryptic in Shadesmar, I was like, ‘damn, that’s Shallan’s first spren isn’t it.’ And I was vindicated. I feel stupidly proud of myself for catching even one of Sanderson’s twists.

I think this is the first book in the series where Kaladin’s arc didn’t really grab me as much as the others to start. Not that it was bad, I still really enjoyed it, especially towards the end. But I was surprised to find when I got to Part Three and Kaladin’s name was listed but Adolin’s wasn’t that I went, ‘awww, damn,’ and used that as my break point for the night. 

I think part of this is that so much of Kaladin’s story that I love and adore is about not just Kaladin, but Kaladin’s friends and found family arcs with Bridge Four, and so much of that was taken away from him in the early part of the story. Like Kaladin, I guess I was just sad about everyone moving on and him being along. Sigzil going off to be the new Windrunner leader, Rock leaving, Rlain leaving (for a while at least), Adolin and Shallan leaving...it was hard. I felt his depression. Unfortunately, it made it a bit difficult to read, I guess.

On the flip side though, Kaladin’s ending arc in the story was A+ and I loved it. I love that his Fourth Ideal is specifically accepting that he cannot save everyone, which is something he’s struggled with from his very first appearance in the very first book. I love how this sheds so much light on that moment in Oathbringer where Syl is calling for him to speak the words and he just can’t, because at the time, he wasn’t ready to accept that he couldn’t save everyone. I love that he admits to Dalinar that he really did need help and a chance to recover, and that his setup for the next book doesn’t seem to be as Stormblessed, the soldier, but as a healer. And I love that he made up with his dad in the end, and did manage to at least save him.

ROCK. NOOOO.

TEFT. NOOOOOO! 

And yet as always, Sanderson books are the only books where I really feel...ok with character death. It’s sad, for sure, but also deaths have purpose in his stories. Nobody is killed meaninglessly. 

I think my favorite arc was Adolin’s, throughout the whole course of the book? I can’t help it. I love my enthusiastic, optimistic himbo who is just doing his best. Every time he was like ‘well I’m useless since I’m not a Radiant, but I’ll do the best I can’ I was like NO, HONEY NO, YOU’RE SO IMPORTANT, DO YOU UNDERSTAND HOW IMPORTANT YOU ARE REALLY? Look at all the people you help!!! Just look at them all!!! 

As stated earlier, I love that he’s just so damned supportive of Shallan’s condition. Even if they don’t have words for ‘DID’ in Roshar or even understand it in their own terms, he’s just so damn supportive. She tells him she’s got multiple alters and he’s just like ‘cool, how can I help.’ He loves his wife. He’s friendly with Radiant. He’ll share jabs with Veil. He just wants to help, always. 

I love that he’s so supportive of Kaladin too. I adored towards the beginning, where Kaladin’s going into a depressive spiral, and Syl gets Adolin because Adolin is one of the few people he can’t intimidate. And I adore that Adolin is supportive, but in a way that shows he gets it. He knows it’s not safe to leave Kaladin alone with himself and refuses to let that happen. But he also doesn’t force him to participate and acknowledges that yeah, you can feel like shit, and that’s ok, but you’re gonna feel like shit around other people, because it’ll help you. And it does. And I love that a thousand pages later Kaladin starts going into another depressive spiral and happens to mention, ‘fuck, Adolin’s not here to pull me out this time,’ recognizing what Adolin can do. I just love how much their friendship has progressed.

I love that he’s still so supportive of his brother, even if Renarin was barely in this book. I love that he even briefly defends Renarin against Shallan, even when he recognizes she doesn’t really mean any harm. 

I adore his continued arc with Maya. I love that he was so excited to go to Shadesmar so he could see her again. I love how he’s clearly had offers from spren or other Radiants to talk to spren about bonding to him, and he’s like, ‘nah,’ cause he’s loyal to her. I love how everyone keeps insisting ‘deadeyes can’t speak, deadeyes can’t feel’ and he’s just like, yes?? Yes they can??? Have you ever fucking tried??? I love that it’s his genuine connection to Maya that helps her recover enough to actually talk on her own with more clarity, and how she’s clearly coming back to herself. And what a revelation, that Maya and the others deliberately sacrificed themselves. And I love that ultimately it’s his bond with Maya that gives him success with the honorspren. He did this his own way, with his own skills, in a unique way that nobody else has ever done before, because maybe he’s not a Radiant in the shiny new sense of the word, but he’s the only person out there willing to treat his sword like a partner and show kindness to spren and that shows. 

I also really do hope he works stuff out with his dad because he’s got every right to be angry but also, I want him to be happy :( 

Ultimately I adore Adolin’s whole polarity, that he’s a masterful duelist and combatant, and has probably killed hundreds, and yet his best quality is his sheer kindness. He has really grown on me as a character since book one, honestly. I remember not liking him in book one. I still don’t, when I reread it! But in the rest, he’s probably second only to Kaladin as my favorite.

Venli. I remember not really liking Venli in earlier books. I thought Eshonai was cool, but Venli I remember just not really vibing with. Seeing her story really made her a lot more interesting to me though, especially since I love her whole gradual growth as a character. Openly admitting to herself that she’s a coward and just wanted to get attention against her sister...and then doing something about it to better herself. Doubting her abilities to do so and being uneasy about it the whole time, but ultimately doing it anyway. She’s a flawed character, but she’s a good character, and I grew to like her so much more after seeing her story. 

Also, I loved Eshonai’s mercy at the end there. Fuckin yes. Bittersweet smiles all around.

Szeth-son-son-Vallano wore white on the day he was to kill a king, because apparently white is the listener battle color, it makes SENSE now

I am also veeery curious what is going on with Szeth, who wasn’t really in this book all that much. And I’m curious if ‘Sixteen’ in Lasting Integrity is actually his dad, because they sure drew attention to a hiding Shin man and then immediately never mentioned him again. 

Raboniel. MAN. What a fucking character. I was fascinated with her from the beginning. I never knew exactly what to think of her, because we see her from so many perspectives. Leshwi, who has been established as possibly the ‘goodest’ and most sane of the Fused, openly tells us not to trust her. We learn she’s done terrible things in her lifetime, like trying to create a plague to destroy all of humanity, and one of her titles is just straight-up scary af. She learns how to really, truly, actually kill spren, which is terrifying. She tried to kill the Sibling, which is obviously Super Bad. And yet, she’s such a compelling character. She’s polite and reasonable, to a degree. Clever and enormously genre-savvy, but also blunt and to the point, knowing full well Venli is being used to spy on her and Navani is working against her and blatantly stating so. She’s so intelligent, and is willing to both respect Navani and work with her to create things together, and recognize her worth. I never fully trusted her at any point, because we know she’s done so much to be scared of, but man, I enjoyed reading her segments so freaking much. I was sad when she died, and her weird frenemy relationship with Navani was really intriguing. 

I really enjoyed Dabbid’s little segments. I’m so happy he’s comfortable talking around the others. I’m also happy to see Sanderson delving into including more autistic characters in different points on the spectrum, while also showing other people treating them well.

Taravangian. I still don’t know where to stand on this guy and I’m very nervous now that he’s basically a god and apparently smart enough to outwit everyone else again. I was excited when he actually managed to kill Rayse but fuck, we might have been better off with Rayse.

SOMEBODY ACTUALLY MANAGAGED TO OUTWIT HOID AND I’M SCARED AF AT WHAT THAT MEANS

Moash. I just. Fuck. I don’t even know. I’m not even sure if this counts as him killing under his own power or not. He doesn’t really want to take responsibility for his actions, and as long as Odium takes his pain and feelings, he doesn’t have to. But that moment when he wasn’t protected, he seemed upset with what he had done. So I really have no damned clue where his story is gonna go. But fuck, it’s scary how easily he almost undid Kaladin completely. He knew exactly what buttons to press. We’re lucky the Pursuer ignored him and attacked anyway, or he really would’ve won.

I’ll admit, my Cosmere knowledge is less than stellar, so I’m still not entirely sure I understand the stuff with the Heralds and Mraize. But I am definitely curious to see where it’s going on a surface level, at least. 

LIFT USES LIFELIGHT that explains a lot. I wish she’d been in this story more because I adore her lol. 

I know Sanderson announced Ace Jasnah a while back, but I love that it’s been so firmly established in the book itself. No beating around the bush or leaving people to wonder. She just straight-up says she’s got no real interest in sexual stuff and never really got how it drove others. I love it. I love seeing that so honestly and bluntly stated. 

Anyway I’m sure there’s a lot more to be said but overall, A++++ as always, super adored, next one when???? 

#Velkynkarma rambles #Stormlight Archive #Rhythm of War spoilers

[trekkie-in-space]

KakagaiWeek2020 - Day 4 - Lost & Found P1

Author : JackB

Title : How beast are born.

Rating : General Audience.

Words : 1752

Resume :  During a mission Gai is acting off, his behavior is nothing like Kakashi ever seen. It’s distressing. How can he bring Gai’s back ?

Tag : drdp, derealisation, depersonalization, dissociation, Kakashi’s trauma come to say hello, but this IS a Gai-centric fic, pre-slash but still very Kakagai, anbu kakashi era, the characters have no idea what’s going on, It’s not like Konoha have much if any psychological health/trauma center.

Note : This is based on accurate but specific drdp experience, it can’t reflect all drdp experience, if anybody want more detail on what’s actually going on with Gai you can ask me ^^

THIS IS PART ONE, PART TWO IS HERE

- Lost -

Kakashi had heard about it. A few years back, Gai’s team was celebrating their overly successful last mission. Apparently they had done exploit there, to the point Gai had been given a nickname by the shinobi they had fought, ‘The Beast’. It’s not so often one gets a nickname on the field, curiosity had led the discussion at the table, between food and drinks, all wondered what had happened to lead to such a nickname. They kept coming up with theories, all crazier or more ridiculous than the last, and Kakashi might have been the only one noticing Ebisu taking his distance to the current conversation.

“Well, he didn’t steal the nickname.” He had mumbled in his glass, nobody had heard but him and Genma, at his side, who approved the affirmation with a nod. There was a certain gravity in their expressions. This was more serious than it looked like.

Gai had embraced the nickname, made it his and Kakashi never pushed to know the reason it had been given in the first place, assuming without truly knowing. Gai was competent and a specialist, this simple combination was the most likely to result in a nickname if you found yourself at the right place at the right time. But he could see now, what was behind this nickname, what birthed it.

He wishes he hadn’t found out.

This obstinacy is not like he has ever seen in Gai before, it’s more than completing the mission, this is a hunt. An instinct who has reached its peak and isn’t going down soon. Inexhaustible, relentless and terrifying.

He and Genma can barely keep up the pace with him, if even at all. All they can do is follow the scream or the smell of freshly spilled blood. Gai is pushy on their enemy, never leaving an opening unanswered. There’s no frivolous act, each hit is precise and every movement is efficient.

His enemies are no more than dummies to him. It’s a flawless fight and Kakashi find it distressing. Gai has always been efficient and competent during battles, but never to this extreme. There is a tension in his guts, telling him to never find himself at the end of Gai’s fist when he is in this state. It rare someone can urge such a sensation in him by now, even more when this someone is on his side.

“Gai ! Wait for us.” He screams but Gai doesn’t seem to hear him, if he did, he certainly didn’t pay attention to him, disappearing behind trees like he is part of the forest.

Genma give him a sign to stop and they both land on a tree branch. He is shaking his head.

“Don’t.”

“What’s up with him ?” He asks.

“Oh.. uh. He gets like that. Sometime.” Genma pass his hand on the back of his neck and give Kakashi a crisped smile.

“It happens often ?”

“No. Don’t worry, it’s fine just.. Don’t get in his way.” Kakashi is not sure what it’s supposed to mean.

“He could get seriously hurt if he continues like that.”

“He won’t.”

“How can you be so sure ?”

“Because when he is like that, he doesn’t really get hurt, nobody really has the time to.” Kakashi frown. “I mean.. You saw it.”

Genma is not wrong, Gai is way too fast, but there’s always a risk.

“We should join him, we are close from our goal and he must be waiting for us.”

“I doubt he would have awaited.”

“He did.” Genma is about to start jumping from their tree again but he stops, adding. “Don’t be surprised if he is not.. As talkative as usual. He listens, even if it looks like he doesn’t.”

Kakashi feels like Genma is talking about someone else, this doesn’t sound like Gai at all. It takes them a few minutes, where they pass beside some unconscious or maybe even dead enemies, to reach Gai. They land at his side, Gai doesn’t acknowledge them though, looking over the Iwa research center they have to securize. This center was supposed to be low danger, with a near dormant activity due to a low staffed crew. Their mission was to make prisoners and secure the site until the recovery team comes to retrieve the research that were made here. But their information had been wrong, apparently Iwa had decided to revive this center and give it a strong protection. Their little team had been completely outnumbered.

Which, thanks to Gai, hadn’t been too much of a problem. They were still used from the previous combat though, and the lack of proper information made it far more dangerous. What could await them in that research center could be more than what the three of us could take.

“Gai, this was irresponsible, you could have been hurt or put the whole mission in danger.” Kakashi scold but doesn’t get a single reaction. Not a word, not even a movement. More than his worry for the safety of the mission, Kakashi start to really worry about Gai. He reaches for him, hoping for a reaction. “‘You oka.. ”

“No touching !” Genma snap at him, but it’s too late.

His hand rest gently on Gai’s shoulder and the glare he throws at him in answer terrify Kakashi. It’s mean, violent but in a cold way. Kakashi feel like a prey to be crushed and he can’t help but to stare back, keeping still and quiet as if Gai is going to unleash on him in a second if he makes a wrong move. He was never afraid of Gai, and despite how strong Gai is, Kakashi still think in a serious fight he could take him and win. But right now he isn’t so sure. If anything he feels like a pup being put back in its place and he didn’t think, Gai could ever have such an aura. This is not Gai. Yet it is.

Gai frown at him, gauges him and Kakashi start to wonder if he even recognize him.

A clap of the hand from Genma make Gai’s focus redirect elsewhere. The tension relax and Kakashi gently remove his hand from his shoulder.

“What are you doing, don’t touch him, don’t stare at him.”

“What’s wrong with him ?” Genma move at his side so they can avoid talking between Gai and shrug.

“It’s like, some sort of hyperfocus.. I guess. But hm, a part of him just shut down completely to leave this.” He waves at Gai. “He disconnect from things, I’m not sure. All I know is that like that, there’s no stopping him, he probably won’t leave anybody for us to fight. We just have to follow and make sure we complete the mission.”

“Can he attack us ?”

“Never did, but don’t be in his range because he is most likely not going to avoid you.”

Gai is looking at them now, Genma catch a glimpse of him and immediately looks down and make sure to avoid staring. Kakashi, on the other hand, stare back.

His eyes are not as mean as before, but still hold this coldness, a distance far away from the warms Gai give away. There’s an energy to him, a frenzy that only ask to be let loose. But as he holds his glare, he catches a glimpse of vulnerability, confusion and distress. Kakashi jump at his other side and Gai follow him. To Kakashi, it feels like an animal. They keep staring at each other and Genma stare at them incredulously.

For a second, Kakashi think Gai is reaching out to him or at least tries to. He is not sure what to make of it. Genma seem confident in his teammate but he isn’t. He should probably call off the mission, but how is he going to justify it ?

“So the plan hasn’t changed ?” Genma asks.

“No, we enter, secure the site, we avoid killing the researcher as we are taking prisoners. Then we protect the area waiting for the recovery team. But to be honest I think we should call off the mission.”

“If it’s because of Gai, don’t, he won’t mess up.”

“He is clearly not fine, it’s too dangerous.. ”

“It’s fine.” Gai comment catch their attention immediately. “We can continue the mission.” His tone is a bit distant, disconnected.

“You’re sure ?”

Gai nod. They stare at each other, Kakashi doing his best to gauge Gai, why he can’t quite find the Gai he knows is a mystery. It’s him and at the same time it’s not. Kakashi hates it. Though, he seems fine enough to continue the mission. At least Kakashi hope.

A sound in a bush catch their attention, and Gai’s focus return to the same efficient disconnected coldness.

Like that, he would fit Anbu perfectly.

He gives the sign to pursue the mission and in an instant Gai is at the front door of the research center, they don’t get a welcome party immediately, but as Gai force the door, enemies attack. Kakashi rushes on one of them but he doesn’t have the time to use his Chidori that Gai already sent the ninja away with a kick. It’s fast, it’s ferocious and they can hear bones broke at the impact on the stones of the research center.

Kakashi’s instinct awake and an intense fear takes his guts. Gai jumped extremely close to his Chidori, to the point he felt his electricity touch. If Gai hadn’t been moving so fast, he would have taken it.

The idea of hurting yet another friend with his jutsu paralyze him for an instant. Images of Rin flash through his mind, his hands feels like they are covered in blood again.

Not now.

It could happen all over again, and it terrifies him on the spot. It’s dangerous, they’re in the middle of a fight, but Gai and Genma are managing without him for the moment. He needs to snap out of it.

All he knows is that he won’t be using his Chidori again today.

The battle is quickly over. Kakashi and Genma were here more for support than anything else. Gai could have taken them all without much trouble. He feels like a beast, brutal and ruthless.

Konoha’s Green Beast Kakashi remember. Beast. He gets it now, why it was given to Gai. He wishes he hadn’t found out. He doesn’t have time to settle his uneasiness, they have a mission to complete.

Part Two - Found

#KAKAGAI WEEK #KKGWEEK #KAKAGAI #MAITO GAI #GAI #KAKASHI #KAKASHI HATAKE #KAKAGAI WEEK 2020

[thecreelhouse]

made to brave the pain

Paring: Steve Harrington x Reader

Summary: The monsters in your life have been human, forcing you into a quiet, isolated world, disconnected from reality to keep yourself safe. What happens when you discover not all monsters are human, though? What do you do when the path of your trauma crosses paths with someone else’s? (AKA: a super trauma comfort fic, bc I’m working out my own shit through writing lol.)

Word count: 3.9k

Warnings: mentions of abuse, dissociation & maladaptive daydreaming, PTSD, angst, language. (Hopefully the comfort makes up for it tho!)

A/N: idk how to feel about this, honestly, and I have another comfort fic I’ve been working on, bc these seem to be my go-to during the rough patches. This, or any other fics I write aren’t meant to glorify/glamourize abuse and the PTSD that can follow, but simply just a way for me to work out my own trauma (along side therapy and other professional works of help, of course.) if it bothers you, please ignore. Otherwise, I hope someone enjoys the comfort from this, at least. Stay safe <3 (title is from eisley’s ‘ambulance’)

For as long as you could remember, trauma was essentially the foundation your life was built on. You weren’t a stranger to the pain and the heartbreak that could be caused by those meant to raise and guide you through this cold world.

Monsters were just as human as you. That’s what made them so terrifying, hiding under flesh and bone, lying in wait to tear your world apart.

Having no safe place to run to, you created your own, building from the ground up. It was your shield in dark moments, something you hid behind when the reality was too intense for you to grasp onto.

Sometimes, you disconnected from your body, feeling as if you were floating away from the danger before your eyes. Your mind took a vacation, for minutes, sometimes hours. The doctors called it dissociation.

Other times, it came in the form of leaving the wretched, dangerous surroundings, with a distraction. Your mind played out scenarios that you called the shots in, ones that you controlled. Daydreaming, but more vivid, protecting you from the life outside your brain. Sometimes the events and endings weren’t happy, but it was okay, because it was in your control. Maladaptive daydreaming, your therapist named it.

You found the armor to protect your mind as the world trampled over you, took advantage of you, tricking you into lies and mazes of deceit. You couldn’t control the fate around you, but you could control it within.

It gave you a sense of stability, a feeling of belonging in your own world. You protected yourself this way for so long, since you were little, you began to prefer your own worlds to the one around you. You’d silently thank your mind for disconnecting in times of distress. It knew well now. It knew you and your real world so, so well.

You tried and trusted over and over, knowing you could escape to these safe havens within if it all fell apart. Time and time again, you’d think you had finally found your close knit group of friends, a group of angels on earth, to trust, to bond with, to grow with.

Each time you became too trusting, the relationships would fall away, faster than you could imagine grasping on tight to it. Over time, you kept to yourself. You were friendly. You had friends, in school, at work, but not true friends you could run to in times of need. No one to have hard, aching belly laughs with in the middle of the night, no one to sneak out with, no one to share secrets with. No one was close enough, and you couldn’t let them grow that close ever again.

So when the day came that you found yourself face to face with real monsters, you couldn’t bring yourself to click and stay within reality. All those years of learning to run and hide turned that into a first instinct.

You were working in Waldenbooks, in Starcourt. It was your summer job, to help you save up before moving away for college in the fall, and overall, you liked it. It was a distraction from your life, a real life distraction, and one you could still lose yourself in your thoughts, and not get in much trouble during it. It was generally quieter in the store, more so than the rest of the mall.

It was a late night, finishing unpacking and stocking new books, working past closed alone, and you didn’t mind these shifts, either. You learned how to be content with being alone long ago. Plus, you got to control the radio, and that was certainly a plus. It made up for the fact that you didn’t have plans for the Fourth of July anyway.

Halfway through your shift, just a bit after the store closed, you heard a loud ruckus echoing from the first level of the mall. Perplexed, you stopped moving, listening past your loud heartbeat for more. There was yelling followed by a loud, metallic crashing noise, making you jump. Books in your hand went flying.

Scared and curious, you moved forward, toward the bookstore’s entryway, and peeked your head out, seeing nothing down the wing you worked in. Eyes lingering longer, scanning the neon-lit hallway, you eventually pulled back into the store, picking your work back up once more.

Time had passed, and you continued to restock the shelves, making good time with the batch of books you had, and finished earlier than expected. You cleaned up, clocked out, locked up, and began heading down the wing you worked in, towards the mall’s main entrance.

As you walked, your mind wandered, almost missing the voices trailing out from below, from the first floor. Pushing yourself to tune back in to reality, you focused on your surroundings, walking up to the railing along the edge of the second floor to lean over, get a better look. Your eyes fell on a group of people, sending you further into confusion. Your eyes flickered to the car in the middle of the food court, crushed up against the wall, and you felt your heart drop to your stomach.

What the fuck?

Distracted, you headed for the escalator, now powered down, and sprinted down the stairs. As you got closer, you recognized some of the people within the group; Steve and Robin, who you’d become friendly with over time, running into each other during breaks on shifts. Your eyes fell to Nancy and Jonathan, who you knew from school, and... Jim Hopper? What the hell was the chief of police doing here? What the hell was going on? Some people in the group turned around, giving you strange looks, almost questioning with their stares ‘what are you doing here?’.

Steve turned around, face twisting in confusion at the sight of you, while your heart dropped again at the sight of his face, bloody, bruised, swollen.

“Wh- what happened?” You managed to stutter out, and Steve’s mouth fell open as he searched for an answer to give. But what could he say? How could he explain this?

Quickly, before anyone else could talk to you, Steve reached out, gently leading you away from the group, across the food court. Your eyes darted furiously between him and the others, and the car, concern growing more and more.

“You have to leave.” Steve said, gently grabbing you by the shoulders. It almost made you blush, before realizing the tone in his voice. “You have to go home, okay?”

“What’s going on?” You asked, eyes wandering his face, taking in the injuries he had. You felt sick. Steve shook his head.

“I can’t tell you, but I need you to go home, and be safe.” He stated, voice firmer this time. You shook your head, and he frowned, brows scrunching up. “I didn’t think anyone was still here.”

“I was finishing a shift. Are you and Robin alright? Is that why I heard a big crash earlier? How’d you get hurt?” You couldn’t help letting the questions pour out, curiosity getting the best of you.

You and Steve had spent the breaks of your jobs together sometimes, flirting with one another over time. You figured it was probably nothing to him, and figured it couldn’t do much harm if you kept your usual, safe distance, barely letting him in. It couldn’t hurt to be friendly on the surface, right? He seemed to mean well, too, but you refused to get close enough to find out. Refused to take the chance of letting someone else hurt you again.

“Are you listening to me?” Steve asked urgently, gently shaking you by the shoulders. Your eyes focused back into view, back to his poor, battered face, and realized you had spaced out. In times of panic, you just did that, running for safety. If only your body learned to do the same physically.

“I-“

“Y/N, you really have to get out of here. Please.” Steve pleaded, eyes holding a whole different world of pain and suffering, far different from yours. It made your heart sink.

What demons has he fought that were nearly as bad as yours? The thought of someone as sweet as Steve fighting off his own monsters made you ache, made you worry.

“Are you gonna be okay?” You asked, hoping for a proper answer. Steve looked away for a moment.

“Yeah. Yeah I am, it’s gonna be alright.” He reassured, though he looked unsure himself. “Just go home, please. I need you to be safe.”

Something within you screamed to stay, stay, stay, don’t abandon him, don’t abandon Robin, stay, stay, stay. What could you do? What help could you be, when you had no idea what these people were up against.

“Will you be safe? Are you safe with them?” You couldn’t help asking, and without hesitation, Steve nodded.

“I’m in good hands with them, I promise.” He answered sincerely, and that was the only thing that seemed to calm you down, just a bit.

Your arms wrapped around Steve suddenly, taking him by surprise as you hugged him tightly. He hugged back tightly, and quickly pulled away, before gently pushing you towards the mall’s exit. Your heart ached, your mind screamed, stay, stay, stay, against his word.

You, being the stubborn person you were, stayed. Turning to leave, you noticed Steve wasn’t watching you walk out, and took the opportunity to hide. You snuck in the shadows of the bathroom hallways, behind a large, potted plant, by the main entrance.

You heard horrific screams and startling noises as time passed, fighting your curiosity to stay hidden. What the fuck could you do here? It’s not like you knew what was going on, what was happening. Crashing noises echoed through the hallway, glass shattering, things being thrown, broken, inhuman, monstrous noises ripping through the air; you heard it all. At moments, it grew quiet, but it never lasted long. Sometimes you felt the walls shake, almost as if the building was hit.

Peeking out from your hiding spot, you swore you heard fireworks being set off. With shaky limbs, you pulled yourself up off the floor, creeping down the hallway and around the corner, to see the food court lighting up in bright, vibrant colors. Sparks flew everywhere, and your eyes fell to the target of the rockets: a monster. A real monster.

It’s grotesque build and grimy limbs recklessly tossed about, smashing into walls and decor in the mall, narrowly missing everyone scattered about. Debris flew around dangerously. You couldn’t tear your eyes away, but felt your feet pulling you further, towards the door. Your gut told you Steve was right, and you trusted it, running out the door.

You ran, ran, ran, towards your car, parked far away from the mall, and collapsed against the side of it, watching the interior light up from the windows. It didn’t take long for your mind to kick into high gear, dragging itself the hell out of your body, disconnecting from reality, right on schedule.

Your eyes zoned out, blurring your surroundings as you sat against your car, numbly watching the building eventually go up in flames. Smoke billowed out of the roof, but you couldn’t bring yourself to focus fully. Sirens echoed out in the distance, surrounding the building in lights, signaling help was here, help had arrived.

Your thoughts felt fuzzy. Had you really seen what you saw? Was that reality? It was like something straight out of your vivid daydreams, the ones where you build up your own heroes to put a stop to the destruction.

Maybe it was a metaphor for you somehow, for the destruction you had endured your entire life. You couldn’t be bothered to think about it.

A figure drew closer, but you couldn’t bring yourself fully from your thoughts, couldn’t come back down from the natural, protective high.

You felt yourself being pulled to your feet, and arms wrapping around you.

“Jesus Christ, I thought you went home. What are you still doing here?” It was Steve’s voice, engulfed in concern. Your vision focused back in, and the tingling numbness began to leave your limbs, your fingertips. You grasped onto his shirt, feeling the fabric, connecting that with reality, grounding yourself.

You rarely ever grounded yourself. It was just something you preferred not to do, to stay safe and locked away in your thoughts instead.

“Are you okay?” He asked, pulling back, getting a closer look at you. You focused in to his battered face, heart sinking again at the sight of his injuries. He grabbed your hands, squeezing them. “Did you hear me?”

Something deep within you screamed at you to be responsive for once, and you slowly nodded.

“You’re not hurt are you?” He asked, ignoring his injuries, the blood on his shirt, on his skin.

You shook your head, staring at Steve, in awe he was showing concern about you, when clearly he was the one who needed comforting. Your arms wrapped back around him, surprising yourself as you pulled him close.

“Are you okay?” You managed to ask, fully in focus to reality, to the present. He didn’t answer, and you pulled back, searching his eyes for an answer. All you saw was the hurt, the damage left behind by demons you couldn’t even imagine up in your wildest daydreams.

“Can I tell you the truth?” He looked away, voice cracking. You nodded. “Not at all.”

Your heart broke, and you were fully aware of the reality around you. You wanted to run and hide, away in your safest corners of your daydreams, but you stayed, standing strong in your spot. The urge to disconnect was strong, but the one to stay and help Steve was stronger.

“Let’s get you home, yeah? I don’t want you driving like this.” You managed to say, pulling open the car door for Steve. He hesitated, almost aware how hard this was for you to help someone else, when you couldn’t even really help yourself. You held your gaze strong, until he eventually climbed into the passenger seat. Shutting the door, you hurried around to the other side, starting up the car, and began driving off, destruction of Starcourt growing worse in your rear view mirror.

You drove on, silent, not wanting to overstep any boundaries, though you already did, staying behind when Steve warned you to leave.

Leaning his head against the window, Steve spoke up first, voice quiet, broken. “How much did you see?”

You hesitated, but knew the truth was necessary here, or you wouldn’t be able to comprehend what you saw at all, not on your own. “I heard more than I saw. I was hiding and didn’t come out until I heard fireworks going off. I saw... that thing... and ran.”

“Must be nice to have the option.” He mumbled, though it was loud enough for you to hear, and it stung. You know he didn’t mean harm, not intentionally. What he went through was something you had never endured, and probably never will. “Why’d you stay?”

Turning down a street, you swallowed hard, afraid to answer, unsure what your answer even was. “I dunno, I was worried for you, for everyone. I’ve never seen you so panicked before.”

“There’s a lot you haven’t seen.” He replied, shrugging, as if it was simply nothing. “There’s a lot you choose not to see, too.”

You felt your stomach drop at that. You knew what Steve meant, you just didn’t think anyone else knew. You didn’t think anyone else noticed. You thought you slipped under the radar of concern from anyone, and you grew comfortable with that.

“Where do you go?” He asked, looking ahead at the road. You turned once more, vaguely remembering the way to his house; you had given each other rides once or twice this summer.

You knew what he meant by asking that, and though afraid to answer, you didn’t hesitate to speak up. “Far away. As far away as I can get from here. It helps to distract myself with my own grand, make-believe stories. Beats being stuck in your own hell.”

“Teach me your ways.” He joked dryly, sending you a lazy smile. You blushed, focusing back on the road, turning into his driveway. You parked, but neither of you moved, neither of you left the car.

“It’s still pretty shitty... to be disconnected from reality all the time... I miss out on a lot of my own life.” You admitted softly, staring at the wheel, clutching it tightly. “It’s not something you’d want, you know. You have a good life overall, people who give a shit about you. You don’t want to miss the good stuff.”

“People care about you too.” Steve replied seriously, but you laughed, rolling your eyes. “I mean it.”

“Even so, it’s just another chance to let...” You trailed off, realizing you’ve said far too much already. “... it’s fine. Let me help you inside, okay?”

Steve opened his mouth to argue, to question you further, but you dashed out your door, quick to reach his side. You held an arm out as he carefully exited the car, slowly walking him up to the door.

The two of you looked at one another awkwardly, unsure of what to say. You hadn’t planned to stay long, or at all. You just wanted to help. It was the least you could do. A few moments passed as you stared at one another, silence deafening, before finally turning on your heel, starting for the stairs.

Steve reached an arm out, grabbing your hand. You stopped suddenly, turning back to him.

“Stay. Please.” He said, voice wavering again, and though you were wary about letting him, or anyone, in, you nodded, feeling a layer of trust settle between you two.

The house was empty, but Steve didn’t seem too bothered by that fact. As if he sensed your curiosity, he spoke up, “Parents are never home. Probably for the best this time.”

A caring side of you came out, overshadowing the hesitant, cautious side. “Where’s your bathroom? We gotta clean some of these wounds up, or you’ll get infections.”

Surprised by your words and initiative to take action, Steve stared for a moment before nodding to the stairs, and climbing them slowly. You trailed behind.

You began to rummage through the bathroom’s cabinets, well stocked with necessities and more. You wondered what it was like to have a family that actually cared to keep necessities on hand, not leaving their child to fend for themself, at least without resources. Finding rubbing alcohol and cotton wipes, you figured it was a good place to start.

Steve sat at the edge of the tub, and you immediately got to work, gently wiping away the crusted, dried blood, and cleaning any wounds. Anytime it stung, Steve cringed, hissing.

“Oh, c’mon, you got these gnarly battle wounds, and a little rubbing alcohol is gonna bother you?” You teased, and it pulled a smile out of Steve. He watched you closely as you continued on, while you made sure to keep your gaze anywhere but his eyes.

“How do you know about infections so much, hm?” He asked casually, not realizing the weight of the question. “Not like you’re covered in wounds yourself.”

You exhaled deeply, brushing away your nerves. “Sometimes you learn things as you need them.” You hoped that was an answer enough, but of course, Steve being his stubborn self, never knew when to quit.

“What does that mean?” He asked, voice quieter, but still, you caught the question. You shook your head, throwing the bloodied cotton wipes away, and reaching for fresh ones.

“You have your demons,” you started, leaning closely in again to finish cleaning his face. “I have mine.”

“You don’t have to be so secretive all the time.” He mumbled, getting annoyed. You rolled your eyes.

“Done. Rest of the blood is all yours to handle. Most of it is in your hair, anyway.” You said, ignoring his comment. Steve stood up, and you backed against the counter, trying to keep your space.

“Did I do something?” He asked, hurt apparent in his voice, sinking your heart again. “I thought we were friends, I’m sorry if I overstepped boundaries.”

You clamped your eyes shut, shaking your head. “No, it’s not you, it’s ... it’s anyone.”

“You sure? You don’t have to stay, I don’t want to bother-“

“It’s not you, I swear.” You began to ramble. “It really is anyone. I haven’t gotten close to anyone in so long. You and Robin are the first friends I’ve had in years, and even then, I tried to keep my distance.”

“Why?”

“You asked where I go... where my mind goes...” You started, voice cracking. God, you didn’t want this friendship to be exposed to your trauma. It always found a way through the cracks, though. It was a huge part of who you were, it always found a way in to everything else. “I have to keep busy up here.” You pointed to your head, looking away from him before continuing.

“I keep busy and disconnect from real life to stay safe. Doctors call it dissociation, or whatever.” You mumbled, trying to keep tears back, crossing your arms. “My monsters were human. The people raising and guiding me through this life were just monsters in disguise. Those I trusted, helped, bonded with. They were all my demons. It was safer to just... just...”

“Tune out the real world.” Steve finished, understanding. You nodded, feeling tears roll down your face, stinging your skin along the way. “I mean, I get it... kinda’. You do what you can to survive the pain.”

“There’s gaps of time in my life, chunks of memories I don’t remember, can’t remember, because I was so disconnected.” You admitted, brushing your tears away with your hands. “Sorry. Jesus. Here I am crying about my shit when you just dealt with that literal monster.”

Steve shook his head, cautiously reaching a hand out to your arm, and settled it against you slowly. “I’m sorry you saw any of that. And don’t apologize, I asked, because I care. Because it seems like you care too, at least I think so. Seems like it if you’re willing to take care of my ugly mug tonight.”

You laughed softly, sniffling. “Shut up, you still are pretty cute, even with all those bruises.”

“Yeah? You think so?” He asked, smiling, pulling your smile wider in return. “I don’t want to force you into telling me anything, but you can, you know, if you want to. You’re not alone.”

“Neither are you, Steve.” You said sincerely, wrapping him into a hug. Cautiously, he hugged back, softly resting his chin atop your head. Courage built up in your heart, you managed to ask words you’d never imagine asking anyone: “Can I stay?”

You hadn’t felt this much trust with someone in so long, hadn’t let yourself feel it in so long. You’ve knocked down every opportunity that came your way, believing it was safer to be alone. Safer to be lonely. You were wrong, and you were willing to relearn how to let others in after feeling the pull between you and Steve.

Steve pulled back, searching your face for any signs of doubt, a soft smile hiding at the edge of his lips. “I was kinda’ hoping you would.”

——

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