#but until I talk to a doctor or councilor or therapist or Someone who can give me some sort of official diagnosis | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

chilling-seavey · 3 years

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hey, so this may be a hard to answer but i kinda didn't have anyone else to talk to about this:/. for a while, i have always been self conscious about my differences. i have been researching about autism lately and i've noticed that my "symptoms" are very similar to ones that i've researched. i just wanted to ask about how your story about it, if you're comfortable:) anyway yea i might just be overthinking it

Hey anon! Thanks for sharing! First off, take it from me first hand, there’s nothing you gotta be self conscious about! Easier said than done, I know, but our differences are what makes us unique and that’s not something to hide.

I wasn’t diagnosed as autistic until I was 18. Autism in boys is often more prevalent so it’s easy for us girls to be overlooked and end up having to figure out ways to cope with symptoms etc themselves for sometimes our whole lives! I obviously don’t know if you’re a boy or a girl and even still, autism is such a wide spectrum that what I deal with may be completely different than what you are dealing with. In any sense, autism isn’t like another mental diagnosis and it is perfectly fair to self-diagnose without input of a professional if one wishes. Yet, at the same time, it can also tend to be like googling your illness symptoms and the website that pops up says ‘you have a mild headache? you’re dying’ when that isn’t necessarily true! Sometimes asking for some professional opinions on what you think might be symptom could be your best bet! But it’s personal preference too!

In my case? My whole life, I was more of the weird outsider girl. I often sat at recess alone with my stuffed animal (that I had since I was born and is still my comfort even know at nearly 21!) and my books and I wasn’t necessarily bullied but I was picked on a little in elementary school for being different. I wasn’t ‘cool’ and I was socially a ‘late-bloomer’ and never seemed to really keep up with the other kids. Honestly, I just thought I was shy.

Once I had to get a psychological test for university done at age 18, my therapist recommended that I do some advanced tests for ASD (autism-spectrum-disorder) and it was then that my results really opened my eyes that - holy crap everything made sense now. In particular, one of the tests I had to do was facial recognition where she showed me an image of a person making a facial expression and I had to tell her what emotion they were feeling. Another was listening to someone say a line and I had to repeat the tone of voice used to mimic their emotion. I scored so low on these tests. I never realized that this was something I struggled with and I soon learn its because of something called ‘masking’.

Masking is super prominent in girls with autism because our symptoms may not be as strong or ‘typical’ as those in boys. It essentially is our mind’s way of reading our environment and forcing ourselves to play a part to ‘fit in’ whether it be through mimicking social cues or other things. It’s exhausting and most times you don’t even realize you’re doing it!

One thing that I can joke about now that I am more comfortable with the familiarity of my diagnosis is what I call my ‘sensory sensitives’. (If you read my writing on here, Penelope in ABM has a few of these!). This is often common in autistic people where certain textures or sounds or other triggers can make you ‘freak out’ (for lack of a better word). I remember when I was little, if my bedsheets weren’t pulled perfectly tight and flat, I would have a bit of a meltdown until mum stripped my bed and remade it. Even now, more often than not, I have to strip my bed and remake it before getting back in if my sheets are too wrinkly.

I could go on for ages talking about my own experiences and if you want to hear more I can share but the main idea to take from this are as follows:

1. Everyone is different. Everyone as in humans and everyone as in all autistics. So what I have expressed about my own experience here may be different from what you have been experiencing but that doesn’t mean one of us is more valid than the other or has a more ‘serious case’ than the other

2. Don’t go searching for something for the sake of searching. This has obviously been on your mind and it’s good that you can recognize this in yourself! If you are worried about a) what this means b) if it medically factual for yourself c) anything else, bring it up to a family member you trust or a councilor or doctor! Not everyone in your social circle is going to be accepting, especially if you are “high functioning” (I use that term loosely) because us in that category “don’t look autistic”. Just remember there’s no mould you need to fit in to be x y z and having a certain diagnosis or not doesn’t mean you are or aren’t any less of your own great self!

3. It’s not something to be scared about. It’s who you are! Autism is something you’re born with and, yes, it can be tiring for others and especially yourself, but it’s just a piece of your personality and you just have to find a way to work with it! Like if you have an allergy for instance, it’s annoying and can get in the way, but it’s just something you have and you need to take certain care through it! So don’t be too hard on yourself. It can be a weird time through possible acceptance and diagnosis (whether self or medical) and crying out your frustrations is certainly valid (I have plenty of times myself) but you aren’t broken and you aren’t scary and you have no reason to be self conscious over any differences you may have. Being social is freaking tiring to try and keep up with neurotypicals so just know your limits and be kind to yourself

I hope this helped if at all...I didn’t mean to write a whole ass novel in reply lol oops. But if you have any more questions or anything you can always shoot me a dm or another ask 🥰 I’m here for ya and I wish you luck in however you chose to progress with this!!

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overwhelmed-ravenclaw · 5 years

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Admitting Having PTSD

Admitting something like this is extremely hard for someone. For me, it was especially hard because of the fact of how my family is. They have toxic tendencies and the other side is majority toxic in general. So I am not precisely safe from them playing blame game if they even admit it to themselves that I do have PTSD. I hope this helps someone else who has to admit their family or to other people about PTSD. Also, I would like to point out that I didn’t tell my whole family (I won’t tell my whole family) and I will also like to say that others may have even more different reactions. It is something scary and no one knows what to precisely expect. I was trying to be trigger wary while writing this. TL;DR at the end I’ll have a line separating them. Everything I pre-typed for this is undercut. @ptsdconfessions

My family like most is complicated. It feels to me like mine is more so than a lot of others but I know that probably isn’t the truth. My mom left when I was young, which is important to this but not what this is about. I had accepted my mom left because she wasn’t happy in her marriage to my dad. She explained to me she didn’t know where she was going so she couldn’t take us with. She didn’t want to put us in any kind of danger by accident. For a 7-year-old, I understood she was trying to protect us and get out of a loveless relationship.

I have 4 older sisters, but one doesn’t play a role in this till years later, so I am going to skip her for the time being. (She was adopted after my mom left and around the time the PTSD started to form) My counselor and Therapist both had repeatedly suggested I explain more than “I have depression” to my family. They knew that I knew I had PTSD. The reason behind it varied to a bunch of things that most of which happened before I was 13 and there was nothing I could do about it. Some of the stuff that happened later in life adds onto that but I am going to stay vague to avoid triggers as much as I can. None of my PTSD had to do with my mother leaving, or at least very little did, because if she was there then a lot of it wouldn’t have happened.

So I first sat down with my sister and uncle who lived with me. I am going to call this uncle (huge family) U-D, the sister at hand is L. L’s reaction was “So you are mentally insane, that means you can get disability and quit your dream of whatever it is, I don’t know it doesn’t make sense.” My dream is to help children that dealt with same past like me and make sure they don’t end up as bad as I did, so I became a paraprofessional (Fancy word for special needs aide) The other part of my dream is to become a published author. Not through self-publishing but a big name company. I don’t care if my books don’t sell, I want to know that I have at least tried to be an author.

U-D stated that he doesn’t understand how I have PTSD because I was never in the army or warzone. Later on, he learned what happened to me when I was little, or at least small bits, from my sister B. Let just say after learning some information he had dropped that I couldn’t have PTSD and just went with it. L kept pushing me to do things that she knew would trigger me till finally not one but four councilors had all sat down and explained to her what she was doing, she kept it up. She saw that if she can keep triggering me then I will do what she wants to make her leave me alone. Then eventually I told my aunt AD and my Dad. Dad stated he could tell that I had PTSD because of the fact that he was a lousy dad. Which is partly true. If he would have done what should have when I was little then I wouldn’t have it this server. He isn’t fully at blame but he admitted he did things wrong and knows it. AD then learned a few of the things through dad and me. She was supportive and wanted me to seek deeper help. Which I did with her encouragement and her nudging me on the path of healing. Next person I told was my grandmother on my mother side. Up to this point, I have only talked to the family who is on my dad’s side and I can be face to face. My grandparents on my dad’s side passed away years ago and my grandfather on my mom’s side passed away while I was still a baby. So this grandmother was the only one I could talk to. Her reply to finding out made my stomach feel like I had eaten lava and nauseous. You know the feeling that you just did something bad and disgusting and you get after that? Well, that was my version of that feeling. I am getting it now, but I want to get this story out here.

My grandmother’s reaction which a lot of my PTSD does ties back to her in my childhood… was the simple saying “It is your mother’s fault. She left you at such an impressionable age. It caused you to have depression. If you would stop living in the past your doctor wouldn’t mistake it as PTSD. So start smiling more and live in the future!” Which I ended our conversation with a quick “My phone is dying, talk you later” then it took me 2 months to be able to call her again.

My Aunt who works at the hospital AB was next and AB snorted. “I have known that since you were twelve. You on medicine now for anxiety? What kind so I can check it against my copies of your old medical records.” Which was a huge Wait, what? So I told her my meds, she then told me to ask the doctor about lower doses because I don’t take medicine. I never liked to. Which the doctor agreed and gave me lower doses and the kind my aunt requested because, after a second look, the doctor stated that it would be better for me. I have nightmares that make me have insomnia. (Solution to that is lots of caffeine. Mainly coffee.)

My sisters B and M (adopted one I said I would skip for time being) both knew about me having PTSD but because my dad wouldn’t seek help for me when I was little there was nothing they could do until I was an adult. By then they thought I already sought help, but only did about 2 years ago. I haven’t told my eldest sister, because a huge chunk of it is because of her and her husband. I also haven’t explained properly to my mother because I don’t want to make her worry, she has PTSD too. I know I will have to eventually. That just left one uncle that I was extremely close to. AD’s husband. When I finally told him about it he dismissed it stating “Everyone has PTSD.” Which made me confused and I stated that. “Listen, you are perfectly normal. You are fine. Nothing is wrong with you. What they claim is PTSD is normal for everyone. Everyone has it. It is like breathing air, it comes naturally to us. You just have to ignore it and move on in life. Not take the medicine they give you and become a pill popper, man.” ((He’s an old school hippy)) He then started to use that tone that parents do when you have done something wrong when I tried to explain that it wasn’t sadness or depression that I have actual flashbacks and nightmares. That I have physical issues once triggered that too much happens at once to explain in dept. Which one he started to give me that look and down talking me saying basically what he said before. He stormed off and act liked I was an idiot. I was heartbroken because out of everyone, I figured he’d understand. He was drafted into a war when he was 17 so he should have understood, right? Talking to AD later, I explained what happened and I could see the emotions in her eyes seemed to scream in annoyance. Not at me, but at her husband. She then explained to me when she first met him in her teenage years, he was already married but they were filing for divorce, they became good friends since they worked together. She was a waitress, he was the cook. He then told her about how he has been forced to see a doctor who he thinks was coo-coo (her words) he had been diagnosed with PTSD from the war, though he was just a sailor who picked up injured soldiers and brought them home, and he was diagnosed Bipolar. He didn’t like how the medicine made him feel and react so he stopped taking them declaring that they were trying to make him into a pill popper, which she stated it took him months to stop having the withdrawals from the medicine. In the 80s before his daughter was born he tried again, and again he didn’t like how they made him feel and once stopped taking them the withdrawals were the worst thing he has ever encountered or at least that is what he told AD. So much like how older people in our small town area is still using racist words but not in a racist way, only because their mind is set to that programming that can’t be overridden, he is same way about medicine for “fake mental illnesses” and that was why he was so hard on me. He still is hard on me whenever someone brings up about when I need to take my medicine and he is around. It got to the point I have actually started to try to avoid him as much as I can. I hate that because I love spending time with him at his house, we do crafts together and bounce craft ideas off of each other. He used to come over to mow the lawn for me so I didn’t have to use the old push (not engine mower it is an actual push contraption with opened blades and you have to put your weight on it to make it cut the lawn) He does it with his actual mower that is run on gas. Now avoiding him, he started to avoid me too and I hate the feeling of loneliness I got. In my family, it is rare to hear someone to say sincerely “I love you” he did. No one else in my family besides, my mom, B, and M do that. Everyone else does it as if they rehearsed it and don’t mean it. Like it is something that they are supposed to say. Which when I hear it so sincerely from him or my mom or my two sisters that do that, it puts me in tears of happiness because my normally numbed emotionally body is filled with this comfortable warmth. Any bad thoughts or images that popped in my head or even the worst day imaginable, once I hear those words with someone being sincere, it is all out of my mind and I am too happy to care about anything else.

TL; DR // Summary

So each had a different type of reaction to me coming out.

L - Money, thinks she is going to get to control me because I can leave my job (I am not getting money because of PTSD)

UD - At first not understanding then he is. He makes sure I eat and when triggered he normally gives me chocolates and make sure I take my meds.

AD - Love, lots and lots of love. She buys me random stuff (including lunch while I am working at the school) and my favorite yet is when she baked me a freaking cake because I was annoyed at my sister trying to trigger me before I got to school that day.

Dad - Guilt and understanding.

Grandmother - Blaming everything and everyone else not even caring what was the true cause, when that didn’t work then stated I don’t have it just living in the past.

AB, B & M - They knew already and thus why they were always loving and supportive of me (besides B always states “You are my baby girl, of course, I love you” Then I normally get roped into really tight hugs that make all my bones pop.)

Hippy - Denile. Claims that PTSD isn’t real. Set in old time ways of thinking when really damaging to me but he doesn’t mean to be. He is trying to be helpful.

I’m leaving my mom out, I rather her think for now until I have to tell her, that I just have depression. It is easier on her mental health and I don’t want her to stress and worry about me.

#PTSD #anxeity #Councilors #Therapist #Family Reactions #PTSDconfessions #I hope this helps someone else that needs it

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forlornmelody · 6 years

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Double the Trouble Chapter 6 -- Miss Communication

Rating: Explicit (other chapters are NSFW)

Ship: FemShep x Femshep Clone // Shenko, eventual OT3

AO3 Links: Chapter 1 // This Chapter

Summary: Shep had planned to spend another night alone. Instead she has a surprise visitor--one she had never expected to see again.Unapologetic consensual clone smut.

Note: Well, one year after the most recent chapter, I finally get around to updating this thing. Oops. This is a sequel to Spare Parts, but obviously you can read this without reading the other fic. I’ve spent the year developing the characters and their story arcs, so this smutty crack fic now has plot! Lemme know what you think.

What the hell are you doing here, Shepard? She stood in front of the door, boring holes into it with her gaze. Maybe if she stared long enough the hammering in her ears and chest would fade. So far no luck. Shepard needed to not panic. First step—control her breathing. Deep breath in; deep breath out. Her chest felt like lead. Second step—stay grounded. The door is green. There are six rows and six columns of rings in that grate. That would make—36 diamond…thingys. Yeah. We’ll call ‘em thingys. Just as her stomach slowed its churning, someone tapped her shoulder.

“You gonna say the password, bitch? Or are you going to just stand there all day?”

Shepard whipped around, grabbing him by the wrist. She didn’t waste time before bending it the wrong way. “Get your hands off me.” So much for keeping things under control.

“Hey! Let go.” He reached for his pistol.

Fat chance, big guy. Shepard took a breath, channeling her adrenaline towards her eezo nodes. Her eyes glowed, and she lashed out with just enough force to knock his pistol out of his hands. It barely moved. Shit.

___________________________________

“What would you like to talk about today, Shepard?” Her therapist leaned back in her chair, balancing a datapad on her lap.

“I need you to authorize a new biotic amplifier.”

“Mm. Are you ready for a new amplifier, Shepard?”

Narrowing her eyes, Shepard tried to keep her voice level. “I’ve been ready for months, Doctor.”

“Please, call me Susan.”

“Authorize the damn amp, Susan. We’ve talked through everything—“

“About your military service, yes. Your recent personal relationship with Major Kaidan Alenko, even. Your brief association with Thane Krios. But what about your childhood?”

“I dealt with that shit years ago. No need to bring it up.”

“Your insistence on avoiding the subject is telling, Shepard.”

_____________________________________________

Shepard stared down gun’s barrel, bracing herself as she heard the safety click. Maybe next time don’t pick a fight with only half your body working, dumbass.

“Your amp short out, freak?” The thug’s finger slid towards the trigger.

She held up her right hand. The left remained stubbornly at her side. “Must’ve left it at home.” Shepard put on her most winning smile. I’m so sorry, Kaidan.

BANG!

Shepard fell to the ground. The door slammed behind her, and Shepard caught herself with her right hand. She groaned as her wrist cranked under the full weight of her body. A twitch in her left arm.

“What the fuck is going on out here?” Jane shouted from over Shepard’s shoulder.

The thug dropped his pistol, backing off. “N-nothing Jane. I—we—”

“That’s Ms. Doe to you, asshole. Now get out of here before someone calls the cops.”

“Yes Ms—“

“I said out.”

The thug scrambled out of sight. Shepard looked up, half-expecting her to offer a hand. Of course, she had forgotten who she was dealing with. Jane glowered down at her, folding her arms. “What are you doing here?”

Grabbing onto the door, Shepard dragged herself up. “We need to talk.”

“If I wanted to talk, I would’ve returned your calls.” Jane turned around, ducking back inside, but leaving the door open.

Shepard followed, rotating her wrist. “Could we talk somewhere else? A park? A different bar? Hell, we could even go back to my therapist’s office and I wouldn’t even—”

Jane stopped, looking over her shoulder with a smirk. “This place not good enough for you?”

Shepard clenched her fist. Oh no, this place would be perfect. Discreet. Dim lighting. Loud televisions. Full of private rooms for its loyal customers. Well compensated and well armed bouncers in case shit hit the fan. Plenty of alcohol. If only Shepard could breathe in this fucking shit hole. “Too many memories,” she managed to spit out.

“That’s one thing about not having a past.” Jane stepped inside one of the private rooms. Shepard noticed with relief that it had a desk, not a bed. “No baggage.”

Despite all the alarms needlessly blaring inside her head, Shepard followed. “Jane, please. I can’t—”

Jane whirled around, her eyes dark with hate. “Do you have any idea how many people begged the Alliance to send you back to Earth during the Invasion? But you were too busy kissing alien ass to even bother.”

Shepard knew she should keep her voice down, that Jane only knew how to push her buttons. “You think it was easy for me to leave? I had to! We couldn’t fight the Reapers on our own!”

“You owed the Council nothing! They covered up your death. Conveniently forgot about Sovereign.” Shepard’s pulse pounded in her ears. “Ignored the Collectors. Allowed the Alliance to arrest you after Bahak.” Shepard’s throat closed in on itself. “And then,” Jane jabbed her finger in Shepard’s face, “they all came groveling, asking for your help when the Reapers showed up. Not once lending a hand to our system or its colonies.”

Shepard backed up into the door closed behind her. Her body shook. “Is that what Brooks told you?” Something flashed in Jane’s eyes. “Or what did she call herself at Cerberus? Rasa?”

Jane’s arm collided with Shepard’s throat, pressing her up against the door. Not enough to cut off her breathing, but just enough to hurt. “Don’t you dare talk to me about her.”

She should’ve probably held up her good hand in surrender. She should’ve backed down. Instead, Shepard stared down her clone, even as she started to see stars in her eyes. “What did she do to you?”

The clone dropped her so she could storm off to the other side of the room. “What’s it matter to you? She’s dead.”

Taking a few gulps of air, Shepard rubbed her throat. That’ll leave a bruise. “Shit. Jane...whatever...whoever Brooks was, I’m sorry you lost her.”

Jane snorted, pulling a small rubber ball from her jacket pocket, and bouncing it off the wall. “You’re a real trip, you know that?”

“What are you talking about?” Shepard must have hit her head on the way down.

Her clone spins around, her eyes flashing with rage. “You kill my...partner, and then you have the nerve to say you’re sorry??” She stretches out the O, as a reminder of just how different their origins were. Streets and a lab. A womb and a test tube. A homeworld and a space station. “Is that how you won over the tribunal? By apologizing?”

“Cute.” Shepard rubbed her face, trying to think, replaying the Clone’s words in her head until they made sense. “Hey. Look. This may be hard for you to believe, but if Brooks is dead, I had nothing to do with it.” She snorted, using her good hand to gesture at her body. “I mean, look at me. I can hardly dress and feed myself as it is, how the hell am I taking out hits on people?”

“You didn’t kill her after the war, genius.” Jane leaned against the wall, bouncing the ball harder and faster. Her fists started to glow. “Guess it was hard to notice her body with all the other mercs.”

Shepard’s face jerked up to look at her. “On the Normandy?” She blinked. Jane nodded. “She didn’t...Oh. Of course you don’t know. You didn’t see anything after you...fell.” She swallowed hard, the look of horror on the clone’s face after she dropped from the Normandy still burned in her brain. Breathe. “We arrested her. Sent her to some top-secret facility with other terrorists...I don’t even know where it is.”

Jane finally deigned to look at her, her mouth hanging open. “Brooks is alive?” The ball fell from her hand, bouncing several times before skidding to a stop. “Rasa is alive?”

Shepard took a deep breath, rubbing her bad arm. God, it was cramping so bad. Like pins and needles. “As far as I know, yeah. I mean, for all I know the Reapers took out the facility along with everything else. But I had nothing to do with it. I can swear to that.”

Stepping towards her, Jane asked softly. “Do you know where she is?”

Shit. “I...I don’t. Even if I did….I I don’t have the authority to release that information.”

Snorting, Jane nodded her head, unsurprised. “You don’t trust me. That’s...fair.”

God, she wanted to. “Two spectres and a councilor have to approve visitors. Doesn’t happen to often.

“You’re making that up.”

“Nope. Read that section of the Spectre manual the night after we...ran into each other.” Shepard swallowed, the taste of her still in her mouth.

“Repeatedly.” They both snickered. Jane kicked her foot back and forth. “What do I need to do to get that information? Money? Information?” She took Shepard in slowly, reading her, probably. “Sex?”

Shepard turned abruptly to hide her blush. “Bribery? Really?” She scratched the back of her neck. “I’m not even sure I count as a Spectre anymore.”

“Bullshit. You saved the galaxy, how many times? They’re not going to fire you over an injury.”

“I’m not exactly battle ready, Jane.” Shepard sighed. “I’ll talk to Kaidan about, okay? He’s still active. He’s on better terms with the politicians, anyway.”

Jane watched her closely, arms still folded.

“You don’t believe me.”

“Trust is hard to come by these days.”

This room really could use a few windows. Anything to keep the walls from closing in. Shepard cleared her throat. “Is...is this about the other night?”

This time, Jane blinked at her. “What?”

“...I thought you were mad.” She could feel the heat burning in her cheeks. “Me and Kaidan….Kaidan and I...we...we kind of lost track of you after.”

“After we fucked, you mean.” Jane smirked at her discomfort.

“Well, yeah.” Shepard chewed her lip. “You didn’t get any aftercare from us and---”

“I’m mad about Brooks, not being your unicorn. Because I’m. Not. Anyone’s. Unicorn.” Jane pulled the ball back into her hand biotically, passing it from hand to hand. She shook her head. “I’m mad that you never brought up Brooks.”

“...With the way things went down...I didn’t realize you--”

“--Cared? Please, Shepard. I’m not the monster you think I am.”

“I’m sorry I didn’t tell you.” Moving towards the desk chair, Shepard slipped and out of her pockets fell two small boxes. As she fumbled to get to the floor, Jane picked one up.

“Dental dams? Latex gloves?” Jane quirked an eyebrow as she watched Shepard turn as red as their hair. “You sure know how to charm a girl.”

“This sounded way more smooth in my head.” Shepard leaned against the back of the chair, sliding her index finger across the lid of the box. “What I’m trying to say is...I don’t want to use you. I mean...if you want to be exlusive with us, that’s fine. But if you want to see other people, that’s cool too.”

“So smooooth.” Jane traced her fingers across Shepard’s, laughing softly, only to frown when she saw the whites of her knuckles. “Shit. This place...it really fucks you over, doesn’t it?”

“LIke the underside of a thresher maw.” Shepard said quietly, starting to pull her hand back.

Jane grabbed her wrist. “Hold on.”

Looking up at her, Shepard swallowed hard.

“You uh...have plans tonight?” With Kaidan? She asked without words.

“Well...Kaidan’s out of system right now.” Chewing her lip, Shep pulled out her phone, shooting Kaidan a text.

Hey.

Got time for a vid call?

Jane leaned her chin on Shepard’s shoulder. “You flirt like this with everyone?”

Shepard glanced at her with narrowed eyes. “You want to fuck or not?”

Both of them stared down at the phone, waiting. “What if he’s on duty?”

Chewing her lip, Shepard brushed her nose with hers. “How about dinner?”

“Sushi?” Jane smirked.

“Are you going to blow up the fish tank this time?”

“Only if you ask nicely, Shepard.”

#mass effect #femshep #shepard clone #femshep clone #kaidan alenko #poly dynamics #melody writes #hey guess what #the crack is baaaaack #pfft #who am I kidding #no one cares about this crack but me

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erivalle · 5 years

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This incredibly rambly, so everything below is just a flow of thoughts from someone who really needs to go to sleep and stop staying up until sunrise (literally).

I just want that call. I want to know if I actually got the job. The interview went awesome, they talked to my references (not sure how that went since the current managers refuse to be references apparently), and they started my background check. Most likely I am being impatient since I literally only confirmed my information on Wednesday with the company that does the checks (glad I checked my emails) and it takes a while (few days?). I am just nervous since so far they are the only ones to respond and I really really really want to work for them. Also kind of need to not be unemployed. I have to get a new laptop now that this one is officially non-portable, save for rent and security deposit, and just general and ongoing expenses. Hurray for work and schooling being the biggest stressors ever and literally only being two things. I also have a list of appointments/similar that I need to make: doctor to get blood test and prescription refill, therapist, gym membership, school councilor, a phone call to the loan people, a visit to my bank to get a checkbook and maybe change the status of one of my accounts if possible. Just completely nerve wracking all at once. So I hope the job works out and the rest can fall into place a bit more smoothly. I am impressed I am typing this and I cant even see my keyboard (dark and my glasses are somewhere in the void). But physical/mental health things and financial things are swarming me right now. Side note I am happy my medical alert necklace is due to arrive on Monday.

#erin's little thoughts

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dont-sneeze · 7 years

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~Unlovable Chapter 4~

Chapter 4/5 Find Chapter 1 here Find Chapter 2 here Find Chapter 3 here Sophomore year came and went while the two boys danced around their feelings. Neither of them liked dancing. Jack's grades still were low, and he was quieter than he usually was. His smiles were often fake, and he didn't every really hold a conversation with anyone but Crutchie, Davey, and sometimes Les. "Jack, you ready for the exam in PE today?" Crutchie asked, lacing up his shoes. Jack groaned, still lying in bed. "No. Trade me places would ya?" Standing up, Crutchie chuckled lightly. "I guess getting out of that class most days is one good thing about needing a Crutch, yeah?" Jack agreed half heartedly. "Come on Jack, wake up or I'm gonna steal your blankets." Jack squeaked and held his blankets tighter. "You wouldn't dare." "Oh, I dare." Crutchie grinned and before Jack knew what was happening, he was engulfed by cold, freezing air. "Ahhh!" Jack shook, and then pouted. "Crutchie...." "Get up, Jack." "I'm too sick." Crutchie limped over and out a hand on Jack's forehead, ignoring the tingily feeling in his hand that happened whenever he touched Jack. "You're fine, now get up-" Crutchie gasped as Jack had reached out and somehow managed to pull Crutchie down on the bed beside him. "Your warm." He whispered, and Crutchie got the tingly feeling throughout his whole body. Suddenly, Crutchie didn't want Jack to get up for school anymore. He wanted to stay like that forever. The two lied like that for a while, before finally Crutchie made himself get up. "Well, you should get going, the bus will be here soon." "You ain't coming?" Jack groaned, sitting up, annoyed that his other warmth left him too. He would never say it, but he preferred Crutchie to blankets any day. "Actually, I was gonna go to school with Davey today. Since I don't need to take the physical, the teacher said I don't have to show up today." Davey had high enough good grades and enough credits that he didn't have a first hour for school since he's a senior. Which made everyone jealous of him. Jack rolled his eyes. "You, are lucky that I don't punch you." He said jokingly. "Hey, I can walk you to the buss stop if you want me to." "That'd make my day, kid." Jack finally stood up, and quickly got dressed, brushed his teeth, and threw on a sweater. Both deep in thought, they walked out of the house and started down the steps. Unknown to them, Crutchie's shoelace became untied and the next thing he knew, he was falling face down onto the steps below him. Impact never came though, as Jack somehow acted fast enough to catch him, might have even saved him from a terrible hospital trip. "Crutch, are you okay?" Jack was holding him up completely, Crutchie wasn't supporting his own weight at all. Tears began to fall out of Crutchie's eyes. That was terrifying, and he had no idea what would have happened to him if Jack wasn't there to help him. "It's okay, you're okay. I got you." Jack took him in his arms and sat down on the steps, the bus to school completely forgotten. "Just breathe, alright?" Jack bent down, tying Crutchie's shoe with a secure double not, doing the same with the other shoe. "There. It's all better." Jack reassured, but Crutchie could only close his eyes and remember how many countless times he had tripped on the steep, uneven stairs in Snyder's place. So many times his whole life he would fall and no one was there to catch him. Even if someone was there they would never move quick enough. They really didn't care enough. Crutchie carefully reached up, removed the beanie from his head, and pushed up his bangs showing a scar hidden under there. Carefully, Jack brought up his hand and fingered it, slowly, concerned. "What's it from?" He asked gently. "I fell down the stairs when I was nine. But no one was there to catch me that time." He whispered though his little sniffles. Suddenly, Crutchie found himself wrapped up in a hug so tight he could hardly breathe. "I will always be there to catch you. I'm sorry I wasn't there earlier in your life and I wish I was but we can't change that. We only have now." Jack reassured, rubbing comforting circles in Crutchie's back. Slowly Crutchie nodded, sniffling. "Jack, why are you so nice to me?" He whispered. "Because..." Jack sighed lovingly. "You're my brother, Crutch... it's my job to be nice to you." Before Crutchie could stop himself, he pulled away from Jack slightly. "What... what if I don't want to be just a brother anymore..." Jack's brows furrowed in concern and confusion, until Crutchie leaned in quickly, and put their lips together. It was quick and much too short and before Jack could even realize what was happening, Crutchie had pulled away, out of Jack's grip, stood up, and began limping up the steps once more. "Crutch, wait!" Jack called, both confused and ecstatic. "You're gonna miss the bus and Miss. Medda won't be happy if you do." Crutchie replied, not turning around. Sure enough, the bus came and Jack needed to be on it. It was better this way. Jack could properly think of a way to tell Crutchie that his feelings were returned. Crutchie sighed, glad that he wouldn't have to see Jack until after school. They had first hour together which he was skipping, forth and fifth hour together, but Jack had a doctors appointment after lunch so he would be skipping fourth and fifth. All Crutchie had to do was avoid him at lunch, and all would be well. ————— Crutchie received a text after second hour from Jack. 'Meet me by the art room at lunch?' Crutchie deleted the message, and didn't meet Jack. He wanted to wait a few hours before getting his heart ripped out. Jack was leaning against the wall of the school, a single yellow tulip in his hand. He bought it from the cheerleaders who were conveniently doing a fundraiser at the time. They, being females, and Jack being a very handsome male, were flirting with him non stop, hoping they were the one who would be receiving the flower. This wasn't the case though, obviously. Jack waited, and waited, but as the minutes ticked on, he got more worried. Where was he? Soon the lunch bell rang. Jack looked for Crutchie by their lockers, but didn't run into him. And he had to go to his doctors appointment. He sighed, and left the flower in Crutchie's locker, hoping he would get it, and get the message. Crutchie went to his locker after forth hour was over, glad he escaped Jack for the morning. He opened it, and blinked, wondering if it was his locker he just opened, seeing the flower inside. Maybe it was a mistake? He picked it up and read the little card that was attached. It was addressed to him, and... he read the words fifteen hundred times over. "To: Crutchie, Love, Jack." "Love, Jack." "Love," "Love," Crutchie's whole world lit up suddenly. Was it possible...? The tarty bell pulled him out of his thoughts, and he gently put the flower back, and went to class once more, smiling wider than he has for a long time. ~~~ "Hey, Jack. How was the doctors?" Davey asked setting down his book when he and Medda walked in from the car and jack went into the living room the living room. "I... is Crutchie here? I have to talk to him." "No, he's at the library with Les and Specs right now. Are you alright?" "I... I thought I was..." Jack shook his head. "Can I talk to you? I just... need to talk things out." Davey nodded and they went into his room and shut the door. "What's wrong Jack? You looked like someone threw a brick at you." "They did." Jack replied and put his head in his hands. "Today... the doctor diagnosed me with depression, Dave." Quietly, Davey put his hand on Jack's shoulder. "And now I'm freaking broken, Davey!" "Jack, you aren't broken." "Instead of just having to take Angsty pills, I have to take pills that keep me from feeling anything." He continued, ignoring Davey. "I have to now meet with my councilor and a therapist and..." Unknown to them at that moment, Crutchie came home, deciding he couldn't wait any longer to see Jack. They had to work some things out, but hopefully by the end of the night, Crutchie would get his wish, and they would be more than brothers. He was about to call Jack's name, but heard Davey talk in his room. Jack must have been in there. "Jack. Listen to me. It's going to be fine. You're going to be fine. Everything will be fine." "What about Crutchie, though?" Crutchie's heart tightened at how sad Jack sounded. "What about him?" "I, I don't know if I can-if I can tell him, Davey. It'll break him." Crutchie's heart began to sink. Did he get the wrong message? Was that just an apology flower? "Jack, Crutchie's strong. He'll be fine-" "No, you don't understand-!" Jack burst out, making Crutchie jump. "You know what he did today, Davey? He told me, told me that he wants to be more than just brothers, and he kissed me. He kissed me and then ran off like nothing ever happened..." "Jack, that's great!" "No, it's not!" Crutchie's heart began to beat. Jack sounded angry and upset. Was he really that mad about it? "Jack, I don't see why that's not a good thing?" "I-" Jack put his head in his hands. "It was, I... I thought it was a good thing but now... now I realize I'm not being fair to Crutchie... if I told him the truth of how I feel?." "How you feel? Jack, you're not making any sense." Davey said. "Please, talk it out." He was being calm, but also getting a bit frustrated. "Crutchie and I can't... be together Davey." Crutchie flinched. So that was that. "Who could love someone with a... with a disability that's so... such a big part of daily life that they can barely take care of themselves?" "Jack, it wouldn't be like that at all!" "Yes it would, Davey- you weren't there... you didn't hear what the doctor said about it..." Crutchie felt like a thousand pound weight was put on his chest. He couldn't breathe, he felt dizzy and his vision began to get cloudy. "Jack, you know Crutchie better than I do, and I know for a fact he won't mind." "That's just it Davey. He fake smiles, makes you think everything is okay, when it's not okay. When he's being destroyed on the inside... I can't do this to him... It would break him." So that was it then. Jack didn't love Crutchie. He couldn't. Not with his gimp, useless leg of his. Crutchie remembered what the doctor said when they were there last time. That they couldn't do anything to fix it. He suggested amputation and a prosthetic, but the state wouldn't pay for that, and Crutchie didn't want a prosthetic anyway, since he was just fine as he was. Apparently he wasn't just fine in Jack's eyes. He stopped listening to the two, and slowly, he made his way into his own room sitting down against the wall before bursting in tears silently. In one hand he held his crutch, which he angrily threw across to the opposite side of the room, and in the other hand he held the flower. The flower that meant so much to him only minutes before, but now he realized was just an "I'm sorry" flower. He broke it in half, smashed it with his foot, and left it at his feet. If only Crutchie would have listened for ten more seconds. "Jack, listen to me. If Crutchie did what he did, that means he likes you for you. Just because you're diagnosed with depression, that's not gonna change your personality, alright? I can tell you've been struggling with this since you were a sophomore. And that is plenty of time for Crutchie to decide he doesn't like you anymore. But obviously, he does, and probably has for years. The only thing that might change is that he'll want to help you now." "I don't need help." Jack mumbled, but he was listening to every word Davey was saying. It made sense. "Which is why you and Crutchie could be so compatible." Davey smirked, causing Jack to roll his eyes. "When he gets home, talk to him. Tell him what happened today, tell him how you've been basically drooling over him since the beginning of last year. "I do not drool!" Jack defended himself. "Fine. Maybe not drool... I knew you liked him before you told me you did though." "Yeah yeah." Jack waved him away. "But hey, thanks for knockin some sense in me, Davey." Jack said after a moment of silence. "I guess with all the crazy that's happened today, I wasn't really thinking straight." "Jack, you never think straight." Davey pointed out nudging his shoulder. Jack chuckled. "Can't argue with that." Specs and Les came through the door then, Les being very loud and happy, like he always was. "They're home. Guess I better go talk to Crutchie, yeah?" Jack asked, standing up when Les opened the door, talking a mile a minute. Jack ruffled the kids hair and listened to Les talk about his adventures at the library. Then, he walked across the hall into the room he and Crutchie shared. Crutchie was still leaning against the wall, and had pulled his legs close to him, with his hands covering his face. Really, he didn't ever want to move again. Crutchie didn't want to, but it was now confirmed just how unlovable he was. If someone as amazing and accepting as Jack couldn't even see past his gimp leg to truly love him, then who ever could?

#unlovable #my writing #jackcrutchie #newsies fic #newsies

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ur-pal-kal · 7 years

Text

Personal Rant

I’ve cried like 5 times today over the most meaningless situations. This is really lenthy and this isn’t to get pity, I just need to get this off my chest and this is the only way I can right now.

My head has been hurting constantly for 3 days now, most likely due to stress and the fact that my period is in 2 days. I’m breaking out into extreme hives that are really itchy and red (don’t worry I don't have to go to my doctor, I get that way under extreme stress) My back and shoulder are killing me to the point where I wake up every few hours from the pain and my dad doesn’t care enough to take me to the doctors because he’s lazy and waits until the last possible minute. Oh, I also have school starting tomorrow, I’ll be a Junior and I literally don’t have any friends at all except for my boyfriend who switched schools, and my friend that isn’t in any of my classes. Those few things don’t pair very well with someone who has anxiety and depression.

Don’t even get me started on my home life. My dad is on disability, a gov. program for disabled people to get a check once a month because he has diabetes, bipolar, and mental psychosis and he only gets $1000 per month. He literally talks about killing himself and killing others every single day and it’s disgusting. He is extremely manipulative and guilt trips me and my 12-year-old sister when he doesn’t get his way. For example, if he asks for a hug and I say I don’t want to be touched at the moment, he’ll say that I don’t love him and that he won’t hug me ever again, in turn, that puts me in a situation where I have to hug him. He yells all the time and never listens to what anyone has to say.

We live with my grandparents because he can’t afford a house. My grandparents used to have money saved up for retirement and then-some, but because of me, my dad, and my sister living with them, they are losing money from supporting us. They are sick of my father because he disrespects them daily. I used to go out to places every weekend with my grandparents.They can’t do that anymore because they either stay in their room all day to stay away from my father or go to the bar, not even to drink btw, for the same reason.

If my grandparents die, we’ll be homeless. My mom is getting mine and my sisters' disability stamps and using that money to buy drugs and party at bars. Not only that, but she’s an alcoholic with no house so we can’t live with her. My dad is too much of a pussy to get a divorce and take her to court because he smokes weed and doesn’t want to go to jail. He says that he’s quitting but he never does. If he divorced my mother and gained full custody of us, we would get our disability checks back and be able to afford at least clothes and maybe a small house? There are even programs that my Uncle found that would give him an extra 2,400 a month AND provide cheap housing based on our budget. Nope, he’s too lazy. I remind him constantly to fill it out so we can finally stop burdening my grandparents and he never ever does.

He procrastinates at everything. He spends his money on dumb things we don’t need. He has a DBZ collection that he’s probably spent hundreds of dollars on over the years that we could’ve used for something more important like gas money or food. He always buys me and my sister gifts, which is nice of course, but he should NOT be doing that because there are more important things in our lives right now than fucking stuffed animals.

My insurance doesn’t cover my braces, which I desperately need because my teeth are severely crowded to the point where it hurts to brush my teeth or eat even soft foods. Our insurance won’t even let me see a gynecologist unless I’m pregnant or have cervical cancer. I need and deserve to get a checkup. You’re supposed to go for the first time when you’re 13-15. I’m 16 and sexually active. I need to get my exams and get tested to know that I’m healthy and safe. I need to get on birth control, preferably an IUD, because not only am I sexually active, but I also have periods so bad that I bleed through a tampon and a maxi-pad in 2 hours, my cramps cause me to double over in pain and barely move, once it was so bad that I fainted.

Kinda TMI, but my antidepressants cause difficulty having orgasms and it makes me feel like I’m broken honestly, which is beside the point but that’s been stressing me out as well.

Is it too much to ask to just get away? I don’t want to live with my father, I can’t live with my mother, and I can’t just leave my sister with my father because she’s 12 yet she get’s the worst of his rage.

I don’t want to be living there anymore. I’ve talked to my therapist, my psychiatrist, my primary health physician, my school councilor, and even Planned Parenthood. They all have told me the same thing. “There’s nothing I can really do about that, it’s a tough situation.”

I’m sick of being manipulated by my father, causing my grandparents to lose money, watching my sister suffer and turn into a hermit, watch my mental health diminish, and do nothing about it. There’s nothing I can do... I’ve been trying for years and it’s hopeless... I just want to give up and stay in my room forever. Okay sorry for this. If you read this far, holy shit why did you read all of this? Alright anyways, rant’s over. Sorry for posting this message, I just have nobody to talk to rn...

#personal #delete later

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