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valeriasfragments · 4 months

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"This is my favorite part!" Sarah excitedly squeaks out. She's motioning at the television with a piece of popcorn firmly held between her forefinger and her thumb, small almost imperceptible cracks forming around its core. Light from Serendipity (2001) floods the dark room, the movie is her choice not mine, romantic comedies are really not my bag, but it was her favorite, I think because she shared a first name with the main character, and I still feel fondly about the movie as it reminds me of her.

She's laughing at the same jokes she's heard before, the dulcet tones of her beautiful mirth lights a fight in my chest, Synesthesia playing her beautiful fingers across my shoulders, laughs always triggers my synesthesia and it is always euphoric beyond words. The afterglow of every laugh leaves me filled with love.

The room is dimly lit by a single touch lamp with a bunch of settings, and she has set it at the lowest, the dim light struggling to maintain itself, that part always made my anxious, seeing the flicker in the filament, even if it was slight, but tonight I haven't even paid any attention because Sarah is having the time of her short and beautiful life.

I have a leg stretched out on the ratty sidewalk rescue couch now covered in blankets to make it more appealing to sit on, my other leg is hanging off, and Sarah is short and fully on the couch, leaned back against my chest, and I can smell her hair. Coconut shampoo and conditioner from some vegan place and it smells so good that I relish every inhale. I love this shampoo and I used it to this day and every time I lather it up I am taken back to this moment, this cherished impressible moment.

There's always one last good night, where you can trace back to before things started to go bad, and it's to remind you of the good, and with time it becomes a warm blanket to wrap yourself in.

This is our last good night and I took it for granted, tomorrow I will wake up to a Dear John letter and in 2 days the detectives will wound me in a way that seem so hard to reconcile even now over 25 years ago.

Tomorrow morning I am on the couch sitting in utter shock as I am being asked question after question about the last few days, about her mindset recently, about my whereabouts last night, they ask if she left a letter. And I never tell them about the letter, I never tell them about her final words, I never tell anybody about the words she left only for me, I remember every single one, I can't remember what I ate for dinner but I remember every word you left me.

#fragments #updated!! Will add more later

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duchesstopaz · 10 months

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*Trigger Warnings: Descriptions of physical abuse, mental abuse, emotional abuse, parental abuse, verbal abuse, child neglect, threats, anxiety, panic attacks, violence towards children.* Monday, June 19th, 2023 Part 5 6:32pm

Now here we are, in the present, where I’m back after 3 years at 20 years old. Where I’ve learned and grew so much outside of this cage, where I was free from the dark chasm in my life and heart that is home. Where every second around you makes me feel 8 and 10 and 12 and 15 and 17, all simultaneously and all over again. Of course, the abuse has stopped, it stopped a long time ago, but when you have PTSD, things get really muddled. And, yes, I’m an adult now, teaching at an elementary school, and taking care myself for the most part. So, what’s so bad? Well, I’ll tell you.

When I’m back in my childhood bedroom, sleeping on an air mattress, with ALL of my younger siblings, as an adult. When there’s another bedroom that could have been used, but why would it be, when my stepdad uses it to get ready for work, to house the hundreds of products he purchased from Amazon, and in case you forgot from earlier, the thousands of dollars worth of workout equipment that he uses once every 2 months. OH! And get this! His mother is living with us right now, and she now gets that bedroom. Wild, right?

When I’m back to being the in-house, unpaid nanny for the kids. To feed them, watch them, help them with homework, and yes, to correct any misbehaving and report only the extremes. When my stepdad decides he’s bestowing me the responsibility of “supervising the kids cleaning the room”. When he comments on how responsible I’ve always been, and offers me to be back on their car insurance, even though I was never removed from it.

When he comes in the door, and immediately starts yelling and blaming everyone for how “messy” the house is, and to “get this crap off my stuff”, and “who touched my shelf?”. OH, THE SHELF! When he has a whole shelf in the refrigerator that is dedicated to separate all of his groceries for his vegetarian diet and his on-brand food items that cannot be disturbed by anyone else. When he subjects my mom to buying the cheapest version of all food products, but specifically asks for her to only buy specific brands for him. When he has 2 tables in the kitchen for juicing that cannot be used as counter space by anyone but him. When he’s telling me about the health benefits of one of his juices (or as he calls it every time, “a concoction”), and adds, “Bet you didn’t know that when you were vegan, huh?”. When he continues to not allow anyone to use the washer in the evenings when he gets home because he needs to wash his uniform daily. Also! When no one is allowed to use the only bathroom in the house for at least 3 hours, because he needs it reserved.

When he consistently forgets our birthdays or details of what’s going on in our lives because he doesn’t ask, until my mom tells him of an achievement we’ve made and forces him to congratulate us. When he’s rushing to get to where he’s going and he’s bounding and pushing throughout the house telling everyone to get out of his way because he has poor time management and forgets that there’s 8 people in this tiny house right now. When he asks us a question and we answer, but he doesn’t care because his focus is always elsewhere, so he yells at us that we’re ignoring him. When he impulsively decides to buy the kids something or take them out to eat, and he constantly complains about he could be watching Tv instead or badgering the kids about how much it costs.

When you misinform your kids by telling them inaccurate retellings of American and Black history. When you feign authority over whether they can go out with a friend, just to forget about it until the time arrives. When you preach about respect and manners, but continue to disrespect and treat me as a child and allow your kids to do the same. When you brag about accolades and compliments from your job because of said respect and manners, even posting a letter on the fridge, but never celebrating any of us for our accolades and compliments.

When you force me to pay you and mom at least $100 a week ($500 a month) as a rent-adjacent payment to help my mom with groceries and bills, just like you used to. When you constantly lecture me about getting a car, but don’t allow the full autonomy of my finances by threatening my ability to stay in my childhood home with the payments. When you try to tell me how to do my job teaching, when you have zero experience of the sort, and try to speak in a proper manner to match my manner of speaking. When you project your superiority/inferiority complex onto me when you ask me about college, by trying to act that you’re more intelligent than me and more knowledgeable about the subject I’m literally having to explain to you.

When you constantly forget about my mental disorders and my therapy and my medication, then you ask me about them as if it’s your time hearing it, even though you know that my mental health is the whole reason I moved back home. When you weaponize your willful ignorance against everyone in the house, especially my mom, to excuse your participation and involvement in our lives. When you bought walkie-talkies as an updated way of summoning everyone to your room to heed your request, like a bell system that you ring when you need an attendant, saying, “[insert name], report to the bedroom.”, because you can’t be bothered to function independently at home or talk to your family normally.

How you require that whenever we enter your room to listen to you, that we stand on the side, “where you can see us”. How you make my mother wash all of your clothes or prepare your shower. How my mother goes out of her to make your choice of dinner every night, but you consistently change your mind and inconvenience her, or how my mother is currently in school to get her degree and has HOMEWORK, just to get frustrated when your wife isn’t able to spend time with you. How you selectively recognize that my mom is overworked, just to blame it on us, rather than stepping up and being the parent that you should be.

How you ask me to complete your online training and learning modules for your job, despite me not knowing anything about truck driving or transporting oil and that you don’t pay me to complete what you should be completing on your own, again, for your job! How you are teaching your kids to stereotype other marginalized communities by saying, “All Mexicans eat guacamole”, or “Those Asian people look like they squint because they’re eyes are too small”.

How you literally decide to manspread every chance you get and take up so much unnecessary space, and force everyone to move around you and yell when someone can’t get around you, when I’m literally taller than you. How you insult your kids daily by calling them stupid, dumb, clumsy, blind, deaf, etc., when it’s because of your own failings as a parent that they don’t meet your expectations of them. How you lie to everyone not in the household in front of all of us about how you act as a parent. How you lie to your kids saying that a box of doughnuts has been sitting on your table for 3 days and needs to be thrown out, when I just bought it that same afternoon. How you don’t know how to react if the kids have a medical emergency because you don’t know their conditions, medications, and what they’re for.

How you manipulate your kids into serving you (“helping you”) by painting it as spending time together, which is the only time you spend together.

How you constantly speak in very vague and general terms, saying “that thing”, “your stuff”, “over there”, then get frustrated and insult everyone’s intelligence because you can’t think of ways to speak in a more clear and intelligent manner, and expect us to be able to always know what you’re speaking of.

How you asked me why I never come home, and I told you a half-truth. How you’re so observational, yet not perceptive. Because if you were, you would at least have the self-reflection to be able to understand that you’re a despicable, horrible piece of shit excuse for a human being, not even a man. How you can’t even look at yourself in the mirror and realize how you scare everyone with your tantrums and violence. How you can’t even recognize that it’s your fault that things are the way they are, and you can’t expect children to have that level of understanding. How you think you’re so exceptional as a person and as a “parent”, but it’s all a delusion that you make yourself believe because you were raised in the same exact way. How you can’t realize that you were traumatized as a child and as much as I know you hated it yourself, you didn’t strive to be different than your father, you strove to get your chance to do the same.

How you willingly and knowingly married a woman with two sons, and looked at them, and decided to treat them with violence and vitriol, instead of realizing that they don’t have positive father-figures and that you should be different. I hate you for who you made me become. And you’ll never be a parent to me.

Part 1 -- Part 2 -- Part 3 -- Part 4

#tw abuse #tw parents #venting #journal #personal diary #personal post #physical abuse #verbal abuse #emotional abuse #mental abuse #mental health #tumblr diary #public diary #child neglect #parental abuse

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softlittleheartsandsparkles · 8 months

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I feel like i've asked you before to do a trigger warning when mentioning bpd even mildly. I have trauma, my abuser was a borderline. So reading even a tiny bit about bpd really triggers me. can you please do a tw when mentioning bpd. it would make this space much more friendly to me.

I feel like i've received this request before, yes. But I think my answer at the time was no, and I'm still at a big no. I don't really feel comfortable with tagging a complex mental disorder with a tw. Because I briefly mention it with no details. I feel like that idea itself might give someone mixed ideas. And who's to say next someone doesn't ask for psychosis to be tagged because it makes them think of their abuser. That's not fair to anyone suffering with psychosis. It not far for anyone with bpd, and its not fair for anyone with any other diagnose who could then be asked to be flagged. My biggest advice is always to just unfollow if you don't like what i'm posting. You can take better charge of your triggers more than asking someone to tag. & trust me there's many really cute blogs that don't speak about disorders. I also don't mind my follower count going down. Please take care of your health. Trauma talk: My ex use to beat his head & fists against walls, doors and other object when he got upset with me, blamed me for it. It became "Your making me do this" 'I can't help it, I have to do this" "just stop talking so I can stop." (and stop talking could be me begging/asking him at the time to stop. if I didn't say anything he'd say i'm being heartless and selfish. I should be begging him to stop. there was no winning.) He also would call it "autistic stimming" if I brought up how uncomfortable it makes me. So not only was it my fault he'd bashed his head/hands against walls/other solid objects, in disagreements. (I.e. he'd say "No. I do not want *bashes head* you to go to school.") but also he's stimming so i'm not being accepting/ableist. To him it didn't matter he'd do it to highlight a disagreement. He'd do it if I brought home veggies for myself to eat, (he hates veggies, said they trigger his sensory processing disorder. Like visible seeing them was enough. Hed complain he'd have to toss his food out now because they share the same fridge space. so i'm a "selfish bitch" for doing this to him. However oddly enough he never did this when our vegan roommate moved in. She told us prior to moving she's vegan and these specific outbursts stopped. so... hm.) If want to do things for school (field trips for marine biology. he'd get upset so I wouldn't go.) or want to buy myself something with my money or wanna hangout with friends. These are things we'd disagree about, he'd bash his head and it be the end of whatever. Cause he'd go until he's red. It also didn't matter if I said "Okay, I won't." it became a "well I have to do this now, you made me." He did the same thing to a roommate/ex roommate. Our ex-roommate was in the process of moving out, my ex (bf at the time) tried to convince him to stay, when the guy said no, and went to his room to collect his things, my ex then walked into his room and bashed his head into the wall, going "YOUR MAKING ME DO THIS." in some failed hopes the guy would stay. The guy left, came back with his dad the next day and my ex sulked in our shared bedroom, didn't come out to say goodbye to the guy or anything. The reason why I bring this up, isn't just to be like, I got trauma. Its actually to say I personally don't think about him any time I read someone's bio that mentions autism. I don't automatically think this or that person is going to be like him. (There's also the fact I believe I may be autistic too. but idk xD) I personally separate people from diagnoses, and wait for people to act out poorly & address that. And some people, they never act out poorly, so that assumption wouldn't fit. & that means I could miss out on friendships due to a biased I could easily believe. So, Rather than assume "all people with (blank) act like (blank)" . I don't. He's signed up in my brain as his behavior is just his. He's just an asshole. Diagnose don't excuse it, or even explain it, I feel like he used terms to sneak by, but yeah. I personally don't blame diagnosis for crappy behavior. I blame the individual.

#scribbles #tw: trauma talk

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deafeningpersonaluminary · 1 year

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raisaumexique · 2 years

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10/06/2022

tulum

friday was the french girl’s last day in tulum. we went to lagoon kaan luum. me and mona basically spent the whole morning being annoying kids in the water. mona is the same age as me and she is traveling with her older sister who is 29 and her sister’s best friend. we got close really quickly, the night before we spent hours on the hamacs talking about how men were trash. we bounce off each other’s inner teen energies. we have the same references and speak in a similar way and when we go on excursions together i feel like i’m with my childhood best friend and her big sister who is like my big sister. i’m very happy to have met her. in the lagoon we just spent our time acting like we were drowning and refusing to leave the water when sarah (her sister) decided it was time to go. traveling alone is extremely funny when you have adhd and attachment issues lol. after the lagoon we headed back to downtown tulum to get some food, they went to a vegan restaurant but i decided that my torcéenne ass was not participating any longer in boho chic activities so i went to get some cheap street food. after eating i headed to a fruteria to get some avocados and kiwis plus some ginger to make ginger tea. in the hostel i made my littlz ginger tea and took notice of one of the hostel workers. cue my thoughts : hey he’s tall. oh i like his tattoos. oh he smells good. ha, he smiled at me. fuck i like his piercings. wow he’s a really good worker. etc, etc. so basically i was fawning. i chilled in the hamocs (i have no idead how to write this word). oh i forgot to say that i met another french girl called annabel. when she and the other frenchies came back and we said our goodbyes… i was sad to see mona, my homie from kindergarten, go but we said that we would probably see each other in merida ! if not life goes on and i’m happy to have met another hyperactive earth sign. after they left me and annabel went into the pool and also talked about how men were trash. she also told me that she’s a musician and her inspirations were fka twigs and eartheater. it comes as no surprise that i immediately developed a crush on her. after shit talking men in the pool we decided to get ready to go out. we got ready, but we were much more invested in talking about the disastrous state of men’s emotional capabilities then getting drinks and dancing to awful commercial music. i went back to my room to put on shorts and when, i came out i saw the hostel guy on a hammock with two other people and immediately went into charo mode. for those who don’t know when i go into charo mode i am unable to function properly if i do not get to PECHO the object of my desires. so basically i went into goo goo ga ga mode. cool girl trop activated. i shall get this man. i accompanied annabel to get some food we continued our philosophical teachings, came back to the hostel go onto hammocks and i put my plan into action. i saw hostel guy pass and i called him and asked him to come sit with me on the hammock. his name is lautoro (please don’t stalk him you know men are uglier in pictures) he’s also argentinian and he’s been working in the hostel for a month. he used to study (trigger warning) architecture and now he (trigger warning) djs and produces music. yes. you read that well. i am unable to diversify the type of guys i hook up with. because yes we hooked up. in the hammock. while being eaten alive by mosquitoes. he was nice. hihi. we tried to sleep there but we were literally going to loose our limbs without any bug repellent so at 5AM we went back to our dorms. so yeah first body of the mexico trip please applaud me. right now i’m staring at him cooking food in the kitchen and i want to eat him like un bon kebab sauce barbecue samouraï so i leave you with this entry that i dedicate to me failing bisexuality.

annabel took a sneak peek picture of us in the hammock when we were sleeping lol.

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darkobssessions · 3 years

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Coping Tips for Autistic Women

I am compiling a list of resources for aspie women along with tips to manage symptoms and navigate the world. Regretably, most of my personal experience comes from living undiagnosed and unaware about this for the last 27 years. There was a giant elephant in the room with everything, and I have only recently worked it out. This means that most of my habits prior to this point were ones attempting to cope with a giant unknown, the limits of which were unclear. But they more or less worked, because, as I am realising, there’s always been something they are attempting to address.

With other diagnoses and ways I attempted to explain and understand my difficulties, there were finite causes and treatments. I should have been improving if I tried x, y, or z. And I did improve my symptoms in many ways, but there was something missing from the picture. That is that autism is my personality, my state of being, how I process and view the world. And no tool, medication, process or treatment was ever going to change who I really was. Being misdiagnosed (or being missed and failing to receive the autism diagnosis) means that I have been trying to correct something that you cant ‘correct’, and shaming myself for something fundamentally me.

Some of the tips I learned over time, from how I am as a person, without the framework of reference of neurodivergence or autism:

Sensory:

My sensitivity has always been a big waving flag. I felt and saw things others didn’t. I felt more deeply. I sensed the microeffects and changes in everything. I responded harder and faster to any chemical, environmental shift, any positive or negative event, As we all do on the spectrum, we attempt to navigate our sensory environment. And we come up with coping mechanisms, good or bad, before or after we realise we are on the spectrum. For me this was a strong aversion to the things that upset me, that disturbed my senses. It was an orienting of myself in a way to avoid the disturbances, going inwards, withdrawing and even shutting down. I learned that I could not and did not want to handle crowds, loud places, supermarkets. I lived in a giant simulation attempting to minimise and avoid as much as possible the things that hurt. I learned that I was extremely sensitive, no one else seemed to be, and I just had to manage it. Since discovering autism in the last weeks, I am able to embrace the fact that sensory overload is a thing, and I really do feel pain in my body when things are too much and too loud, and just wearing earplugs has mitigated so much of this. I was gas lighting myself before about feeling a certain way because there was no explanation, that I was aware of anyway.

Physical:

I have had so many problems over the years, since I was a young girl. I used to get food poisoning symptoms really easily. I had hidden allergies. I remember a lot of my childhood spent doubled up with stomach pains, or having a fever. My family didn’t know any better and fed me and treated me as they did every other member. I was not the same, I did not feel the same, but I took it all in. By the time I was in my early teen years, I had cemented my aversion to certain foods, taken the only control I had at the time against an encroaching and controlling mother and turned it into anorexia. I avoided things I didn’t like, again, and set up a system of control that made more sense than the gaping wounds and confusion within me. Starvation triggered bulimia. And a viscous cycle of malnourishment and dysregulation unfolded. I didn’t learn until many, many years later that my system was so sensitive and damaged that if I tried to go back to how I used to eat as a child, I would get terrible symptoms. So my coping tips as I have healed from the eating disorders and become more aware is to figure out what the triggers are, what hurts, and to avoid it. This along with adding in nutrient dense foods and working on the deficiencies has done wonders for me. I’ve done tremendous work on my autoimmune conditions, gut problems, sensitivities and inflammation levels and the difference is like night and day. That I can induce psychotic symptoms by deviating or introducing foods I am intolerant to is no joke. The tip I can share is elimination diets truly do work, the keto diet is recommended, and eating the carnivorous way saved my life. My eating disorders for almost 15 years INCLUDING the 7.5 years I was a vegan, mostly high raw and fruitarian depleted my nutrients so badly that every symptom was enhanced 100% and I was eating pretty much ONLY food I was actually intolerant to. Ahem, plants, I’m talking to you. The peace I feel, the nourishment and rest on a nervous system level having eliminated them is unreal.

Social:

I have always known I was different, in a deep, visceral way. How the adults in my life answered questions was inadequate. I saw through people and things. I was far too intense and serious. I learned to watch and observe humans and pick up cues so as to attempt to fit in. I spent the majority of my life masking, something I am only now finding out about and unraveling. I kept notes on the human experience, and saved colours, sounds, feelings, because I felt like I couldn’t communicate the truth of myself otherwise. Over the course of my life there have been inexplicable (until now) events. Lost friendships and relationships, strings of broken promises, people not acting on what they say, confusions and miscommunications, and many dangerous situations and predatory bonds. I made what sense I could of it from whatever lens I could find. It was the trauma, it was my soul contract, it was what I deserved, it was being targeted- all close, but not quite within the realm of being so naive, open and fundamentally different as you are on the spectrum. I just always assumed everybody was like me. I had to learn the very extremely hard way that not everyone felt and thought in the same way, nor had good intentions. I still struggle with the fact that humans don’t tell the truth. It is of no relevance whether they secretly know it. Most people are more comfortable with illusions. I always knew this, but the diagnosis gives me a lot more peace around it. It’s allowing me to accept the fact that if I look around the majority of the people I see are not walking around processing and over-analysing everything, feeling sounds, decoding patterns and obsessed with hacking the code of reality. Less pressure that way, and more in the way of what can be viewed as natural interaction on my part. I will solve the mystery of the universe out loud otherwise, and get the blank looks and the discomfort. I have found my people, a tribe of likeminded individuals, I have gathered friends over the years that didn’t run from my weirdness. But I am mostly content to be on my own, knowing that I can only use what is around me to try to convey how I feel and who I really am. And that will probably be a book, a movie or a work of art, much better than a 2pm rendezvous when I can’t stop talking about the hidden signs.

Emotional:

With the intensity of my emotions I have developed borderline personality disorder as a means to cope with being autistic and not knowing. I have been diagnosed with both that and bipolar because I have intense stints of emotions. They come and go in waves, lasting hours, lasting days and weeks. I consider it to be an energy management system to cope with the demands and stressors of modern day living. Creatives always withdraw and hibernate, and come out with new insights and art to share. The way that I feel and view the world is special. It’s at the basis of my writing, what I choose to engage with and how. My emotions make me who I am. I feel intensely, I share passionately about how I feel. I snap, I break, I shutdown, I come out again and I am a bright, shooting star. There is an excited little animal that lives within me and it is the strongest most passionate thing known to man. I thought that my negative experiences or trauma killed it, but this is before I knew it IS me and cannot die. So I have stopped trying to cram these emotions in or explain them. Stopped trying to attribute them to whatever script people were following when they dealt with me. Throwing me into the depressive, anxious, panic stricken, eating disordered basket case category. The missing piece now makes so much sense. The ways I responded to being autistic were coping mechanisms, such as developing a personality disorder, to deal with the pressure. My psyche splintered under the weight. My tip here is in embracing your inner life and world, embracing that you are different, so that all of the mental and emotional acrobatics needed to attempt to explain the issues or fit in can be put to rest.

Spiritual:

Being different and feeling differently means I naturally saw and expressed things in quite a strange way. I was convinced of a secret world to reality, behind reality, living on behind a paper shell, so to speak, that would rip if only I could reach out and tear it aside. That conviction was rewarded as year after year my awareness grew, my gifts multiplied, and the experiences I had revealed to me the hidden hand of god. There was very much design to the universe, a pattern, weaving through all things. And i was a part of it, not some discarded afterthought or simple byproduct that had no place. In the early years, I kept my convictions to myself, nursed them with experience. I died a thousand deaths in dark nights of the soul, crashing against the turf of my ignorance. I broke open, and everything I had been so sure of as a child was revealed to me again and again. I was convinced I had a purpose, I could feel the deep tides of human emotion and motion, could feel into the genetic sequence that had birthed me. I felt like an alien, but that slowly over time the map of my operation was being revealed to me. This is what it feels like so many years later to stand here and find out about being autistic and realise that how I felt in my soul all these years was real, and that I can begin to truly fulfill this mission now, to share my experience in words I know others will understand because they feel the same way too. It was the challenges that I never understood, while the gifts were the reason to stay alive. My message to myself and others now is that there is a point, a reason to persevere and understand yourself more. The suffering reveals so much of the true state of things, so that we can protect our tender hearts and build new things that honour who we really are, our souls.

Resources, movies, literature to follow. I just wanted to share something of a summary now of my realisations since coming home to myself.

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justforthesakeofitt · 4 years

Text

How You Like That (M) Chaelisa (top rosé bot lisa)

Chapter 1

hi. this story contains many mature and adult themes that can be triggering and are just for fictional use. i don't condone any of this in real life, and this is pure fiction. so, therefore, if you can't handle that, please just leave this. but don't report this story.

enjoy 🤍

///

(warning. contains strong language, human trafficing, mentions of degradation, corruption, meansé, topsé, idek but the story in general is dark and mature. so if you can't handle that please don't read!!)

🌸

roseanne smirked and swirled her glass around that was filled with her favorite champagne. the armand de brignac brut gold, which cost a mere two thousand two hundred dollars, had made it into the woman her favorite lists, when she tasted it for the first time when she was in France, at the age of nineteen. it made her feel as if she was drinking creamy silk with a lovely flavor, and she was all for that.

her silver hair, with a blueish undertone, was straightened and hung down

her back and over her perky breasts. the tint of her hair matched perfectly with her lamé velvet jacquard mini dress by one of her favorite brands, saint laurent. the dress was a perfect size, as it had been custom adjusted, and hugged her slim waist yet pretty wide hips quite well.

she was seated alone in her comfortable chair, her three bodyguards surrounding her so that she was protected at all costs. being rich had its many perks, but it also came with lots of downsides, such as constantly being exposed to the cruel world that was playing underneath everyone's feet. normal people usually weren't aware of half of the things that were going on behind the scenes of the portrayed world.

the dim and sensual lights that were present in the room, contradicted quite a lot with the chandeliers hanging from the ceiling. it seemed as if a night club had meet merged with a dining hall in an expensive mansion, yet they somehow made this entire look and vibe work.

and it was dangerous to know these secrets. behind all the glimmer and glamour of being rich, a lot of dark poison was hiding. and simply being aware of the poison, and knowing about how everything was really being run, was dangerous.

it was dangerous knowing which big companies, who were known for their customer service, actually had ten thousand upon then thousands of illegal so-called 'contract workers' working for them. people in the normal projected world thought that the people working for the minimum wage were being treated as slaves and inhumane, but they never saw the layer of people that were working even lower up than the minimum wage workers. and those were plenty.

billions upon billions of dollars would go down the drain if someone were to reveal that the biggest vegan chain in the world, also owned one of the biggest meat industries. if the companies that were known to fight climate change and induce eco-friendly ways of making products were owned by the same person that was one of the biggest carbon emitters.

if people know, that you know their secrets, your life is at great risk. and since the richest people in the world, all play the same game, you always had to be on your watch. this was no soccer game, where you had a theme behind you. this was like wrestle mania. only the strongest and smartest could survive. and the people that you would think are your friends, are the ones that wouldn't even hesitate to hire an assistant the moment they find a weak spot in you.

"number 603 thirty thousand dollars! going once. going twice. sold to miss kang!"

roseanne chuckled as the blonde girl got pulled off of the stage by her leash that watched attached to her neck. her head hung low and tears were streaming down her face as you could see them shimmer in the dim lights, which made it all more amusing for the woman.

all of them looked like pathetic little lost puppies, getting pulled one by one to the stage where their new fate would be laid out for them. it all depended on who they ended up with.

her best friend, jennie, had found her own little pet this way and had suggested it to her. after years of being alone, and watching her best friend with the girl, she decided to finally come and see for herself. maybe she'd find something interesting here tonight.

jennie's pet, who's name was jisoo, was quite a lucky girl. while jennie was quite a mean and tough person on a daily basis, she had developed a soft spot for her pet. it wasn't that she let the girl get away with shit, but she treated her well. better than these girls usually got treated.

jisoo had behaved so well and served her so graciously, that after one and a half year of her possession, jennie had granted her the privilege of being addressed by her name, which was quite rare for the girls that came from here.

not may of the owners ended up granting their pets the status of being called by their actual birth-given name, and rosé wouldn't be one of them either. while jennie was more of a dominant woman who loved for jisoo to worship her and take care of her, roseanne was the sadistic type.

where jennie received pleasure by letting jisoo worship her feet and have the girl smothered underneath her wet dripping slit, eating her out until her thighs were trembling and she was panting heavily, roseanne wanted the girl to be laying at her feet, whimpers escaping her cracked lips as bruises and cuts were layered on her skin.

the twenty-seven-year-old woman's eyes gravitated towards the podium once again, before she slightly shifted when she saw the girl that got pulled by the thick leather leash.

her black lingerie contrasted beautifully with her pale skin, and her black hair had been put into two sideways ponytails with big red bows attached to them. that could only mean one thing.

she was a virgin.

girls with their hair loose were previous prostitutes or whores that they picked up from the streets, giving them the lowest value in the entire lineup.

girls with ponytails were normal girls that they managed to kidnap but weren't virgins anymore.

but girls with their hair in this innocent style, and cute bows attached to it to give

them an even more pure look, were virgins.

and they sold for the highest prices.

almost everyone wanted a little virgin pet. it was a thrill knowing that all they would associate sex with was their owners. no previous partners or experiences to draw

comparisons from.

just them.

when roseanne saw the girl's face, her doll-like features with her big doe eyes, and her plump pink lips, she knew that the girl was going to be hers.

"number 209! her price starts at a mere five hundred thousand dollars. who bids higher

than that?"

chaeyoung immediately held up her bidding board that had her slim fingers wrapping around the wooden part, "one million!"

another voice rang through the room, a few seconds later, with an offer of one and a half million dollars. but this girl was going to be hers. no matter the cost.

the bidding went on for a while before her offer rang throughout the room of "twenty-five million dollars."

the man, that previously was bidding for the same girl, chewed on his bottom lip before shaking his head.

a smirk grazed roseanne her dark blue colored lips, "number 209 twenty-five million dollars! once! going twice! sold to miss park!"

her eyes locked with her newly bought pet, and she mindlessly licked her lips. the girl's eyes were glossy and looked with a terrified gaze at her.

"yes...--" chaeyoung muttered to herself with s grin, "--be scared, doll. you aren't ready for what I have in store for you."

there were only a few girls left, so she patiently sat through it all, satisfied with her purchase of the evening. non of the girls could top her pet. and for once, she was glad that she had listened to jennie's advice.

after the auction was over, she walked to the back and got handed two briefcases by one of her bodyguards, which she delivered to the woman that was behind all of this.

"you made jessie very happy. i hope the girl will make you happy too."

roseanne hummed and watched as the men were counting the money, before turning her attention back to the woman in front of her, "everything is clean right? no traces. no record and no evidence."

jessie nodded and smacked her bright red lips together, "everything is clean. we tripled checked. the police have already been paid to drop the missing person case, so she has been declared dead. the parents are quite poor too so they won't be able to afford to search for her or take any legal actions. she's dead and has been reborn the moment you bought her."

roseanne smirked and, with a firm handshake, greeted the woman before she made her way into a dark hallway that led to where the girl should be.

she opened the door to a room and saw a black wooden crate, which had been sealed by a lid at the top, sitting on the floor in the middle of the room.

when she saw that it was the correct one, she snapped her fingers, making two of the three men quickly make their way over to the side and lifted up the top.

she once again, almost immediately crossed eyes with her toy, and saw how panicked and vulnerable she seemed. this made her feel only more in control and boosted her ego.

there were soft pleading whimpers coming from the bound girl, but she ignored them completely.

after a few seconds of further inspection, the crate got closed again.

"deliver her in an hour to my address. make sure that she keeps whatever bodily fluid she has inside of her. i don't want her to arrive in filth at my place."

she got helped into her thick fur coat, and flicked her hair back, before putting on a peeked black cap.

the men nodded in understanding and turned their attention on the crate. one of them followed her, also functioning as her driver, while the other two stayed behind.

there were two small holes on the top of the crate in the cover, which made sure that the girl got enough fresh air to stay conscious, but not enough to make her feel great, so the chance of her throwing up or peeing herself was a big possibility.

she just hoped that the girl could hold it in, as she was sure that she wouldn't hesitate to hose the poor thing down immediately.

she climbed up the stairs before walking outside.

\\\

it was dark, already around the one at night, so the streets were fairly empty. these illegal legal things, were mostly done at night, just to give extra security and privacy. "ready miss?" her chauffeur asked making her nod, "yes. take me home."

she stared out of the window, the snow slowly cascading down while the streets of Seoul were already covered in a thick layer of the frozen crystals.

it was only november, yet the heavens had sent them snow already. and to be fair, roseanne wasn't complaining.

she smiled as she started to move up the hills, knowing that she was approaching her lovely home.

her and her best friend, jennie, were actually neighbors, which was quite fun. this meant that she could show her new purchase off very soon, as all she had to do was go to the mansion next door. even tho it was a five-minute drive.

the moment the car stopped at the entrance of her house, she got out, hugging her black fur coat tighter around her body, before grabbing her purse and made her way inside.

"the room is ready right?" she asked one of her maids, who nodded and bowed slightly, before helping her out of her coat "yes ma'am. it is exactly like you wanted it to be."

she grinned and stretched herself before yawning a bit and walked inside.

"good. now, all we have to do is wait."

///

\\\

#writeblr #fanfiction #fanfic #blackpink #blackpink smut #lisablackpink #lalisa manoban #jennie #rosé park #roseanne park #kpop #kpop smut #kpop au #chaelisa #dark fantasy #chapter one #how you like that

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baby-grayson · 4 years

Note

Okay but like how did gray and ness meet??

Grayson and Vanessa met during the first few days of Vanessa’s college experience, at the Student Activities Fair. She was walking around the campus green, while Dynamite by BTS filled the air and blared through speakers. The green was filled with people brushing by each other as they went from one booth to the next. College freshman excitedly chatted with club presidents and sports captains as people handed out flyers, pins, and t-shirts.

Vanessa strolled from booth to booth accompanied by her first-year roommate, Samantha. Samantha and Vanessa were acquaintances in high school that spent most of their first few months in college attached at the hip, until they were each comfortable enough with their own group of friends. Vanessa and Samantha sipped on smoothies from the Vegan club while moving through the fair. Vanessa pretended to be interested in a sorority for long enough to get cotton candy from them.

Samantha stopped by the dance team, leaving Vanessa to stand awkwardly next to her and listen to questions about rehearsals and auditions. At this point, Vanessa was still uncomfortable with her forced retirement from softball: something about being around athletic, buzzing young women triggered a cramped feeling in her. She peered around, biting her lip. The dance team’s booth was situated on the West end of the green, surrounded by the women’s basketball team, soccer team, the football team, and the co-ed diving team. She grabbed her forearm with her opposite hand and scrunched her mouth, desperately waiting for Samantha to finish while basketballs and game chants filled the air around her.

Vanessa’s wish was granted when a football came hurtling out of the sky and collided with Samantha’s nose. Samantha fell back onto the ground, while everyone in the nearby area looked across the green to see where the football came from. From a few feet away, Ethan and Grayson came jogging over with apologetic faces. The dance team captain helped Samantha on her feet while a stream of blood started pouring from her left nostril.

“I’m so sorry!” Ethan’s voice boomed over the group of girls.

The group quickly filled with voices asking if she was okay, if she was in pain, if she needed a doctor. Ethan tried to catch Samantha’s eye for long enough to apologize substantially. Grayson awkwardly stood a few feet behind his brother: partially not wanting to make the chaotic scene more hectic, and partially taken Vanessa who was standing next to Samantha and offering a tissue to help with the nosebleed. When one of the dance team members yelled that she was a nursing major and pushed her way to the front of the group, Vanessa took a step back to give Samantha some much needed air. She faltered, nearly tripped and landing on the booth. When she looked down, she found the football on the floor. She bent down to pick it up and launched it in Grayson’s direction.

“You’ve got a good arm,” he complimented with a lopsided smile.

“He’s got bad aim,” she responded flatly.

Grayson’s mouth folded into an amused smirk while Vanessa turned back to see Ethan offering to carry Samantha to health services. Vanessa rolled her eyes and was nearly shocked to see Samantha take the offer. Vanessa wondered when a broken nose meant that someone couldn’t walk but she answered her own question when she noticed Ethan’s good looks.

“I’ll walk her over,” Vanessa announced in an exhausted tone.

“No, I should go with you,” Ethan spoke to Samantha, nearly drooling over her pretty blue eyes. Samantha nodded and started walking beside Ethan, not looking back to see Vanessa and Grayson trailing them.

Vanessa, Ethan, and Grayson stood awkwardly in the corner of the nurse’s office while Samantha winced when the nurse pushed a cotton tube up her nose. The nurse pulled Samantha’s eyelids down and shined a pen light inside of them, checking for a concussion but not finding anything abnormal. The nurse released Samantha with a plastic bag full of cotton tubes and no note to get out of classes, despite Samantha’s consistent whining.

“I’m so sorry,” Ethan said, starting to sound like a broken record, “I wish I could do something to make you feel better.” He opened the door for Samantha to leave health services but closed it before Grayson could step outside. Grayson pushed the door open for Vanessa, she muttered a few words of thanks before picking up her pace to catch up with Ethan and Samantha.

She caught up with the pair at the same moment that Ethan offered, “Hey um if it would help you feel better, maybe I could take you out? To Pop’s tomorrow night?”

Samantha giggled and twirled her hair around a finger, trying to look cute but not managing it with a tampon in her nostril, “That sounds great.”

Vanessa tried to suppress a chortle, but Grayson caught the sound coming out of her mouth, paying much more attention to her than the scene of Ethan asking Samantha on a date. “What’s so funny?”

“He’s ridiculous,” Vanessa whispered, “As if a nurse’s office is the place to ask someone on a date.” She rolled her eyes and stepped forward, not noticing Grayson deflate slightly as she discouraged his own plans of asking her on a date.

For the following few months, Grayson was a peripheral friend to Vanessa. He was always around, a friendly face in the background during football parties, where Ethan wore Samantha on his arm like a shiny bracelet. Vanessa would fit a comfortable seat on an armchair and snack on a bowl of chips while SportsCenter played on the television. In the rate moment that she had a comment on the game, she would toss it in Grayson’s direction because during this time he and Ethan were the only team members she knew. She appreciated that he would laugh, even when her jokes weren’t funny. She thought he was bringing friendly, trying to include her in an already established group of friends. He laughed because he knew it would coax a smile on her lips, and the image made his heart glow warmly.

By the time the autumn leaves had turned from green to a faint yellow, nearly ready to start their descent before winter, Ethan and Samantha broke up. The reason behind their split is highly contested: she would tell you it was because his schedule was too demanding, he would tell you it was because she asked too much of him. Either way, Samantha spent the rest of that semester cursing Ethan’s name and whispering rude things about him when she spotted him on the opposite side of the dining hall.

From that point, Grayson and Vanessa only saw each other in passing glimpses while walking to class. He would smile, wave, and say “Hi” even when he was rushing to get to class. Some days, she would reciprocate. Others, she would make a passive smile and continue her way. Grayson felt uncomfortable with how much her response would dictate his mood for the next few hours.

After Ethan and Samantha broke up, the next time they spent an extended period together was the day of the Homecoming game in early October. Vanessa pulled on a sweatshirt with the school’s logo and squeezed into the stands with a small group of friends, with Samantha on the end chattering about Ethan’s attitude and nerve. Vanessa tried to tune out Samantha’s rant and pay attention to the game, standing to cheer and yell. She laughed, joking with her friends about men in tight pants and talking about if a tackle could be a sexual move (which Grayson later proved to be true during their relationship).

The group of freshmen hadn’t planned on going to any homecoming parties after the game. In fact, they hadn’t been invited to any. But when Grayson made the game winning play, pulling a Hail Mary and saving the entire team from defeat, the crowd erupted in cheers and chants. Vanessa and her friends were ushered to a party in an apartment building that was covered in streamers, balloons, and kegs. The air smelled like cheap beer and victory. The positivity was so infectious that even Samantha snapped out of her bitter demeaner. There was something electric in the air that night.

That electricity sparked from Grayson’s fingertips when Ethan and Tucker carried him in on their shoulders. He felt like a king, sitting on a throne and looking down at a celebration that felt like it was just for him. He launched down and was surrounded by screams and pats on the back as men with painted chests stood on dusty old couches to scream his name. Everything in the room stopped when his eyes found Vanessa: like some existential being picked his most confident moment to deliver unto him the beautiful girl who had taken life in his dreams. The electricity bursted from within him and he felt it on his lips when he reached forward to cup her face and leaned in to kiss her.

The room erupted in cheers and wolf whistles. Apart from Ethan, no one knew about Grayson’s crush on Vanessa. But they were still more than excited to see the man of the night make a daring play on a beautiful girl.

No one was more excited than Grayson, who felt like he was on top of the world when he realized that she did not shy away: in fact, she leaned into him to kiss back. And when she pulled back, she bit her lip to stop herself from grinning while she looked up at him. He grinned wider than anything. That night, she was his greatest victory.

#grayson dolan #dolan twins #ethan dolan #youtuber #fanfic #ethan #grayson #fluff #romance #grayson x oc #football!grayson #college!grayson

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currently-questioning · 3 years

Text

Coming Out to the Bakusquad (or rather, letting them get to know me better): a story about normalising confusion and being open about it.

Bakugou Katsuki

he'd most likely be reading a comic (romance manga) or something in his room when I come to bother him

I'd literally slam the door behind me when he lets me in

Bakugou: "TF do you want dumbass?"

Me: "I think I'm genderfluid and I really need to talk to someone about it and like, it's fine if you don't accept me....well actually it isn't, Imma have to break off friendships, but I was really hoping I could just rant for a couple minutes and I know this is a weird way to come out--"

He just drags me to his bed, tells me to get comfy, and waits for me to continue

Which is just....

I love soft Bakugo

I'd probably end up crying at some point and fear making things awkward.

It does get awkward

Bakugo ain't no bitch tho. He ran to get me tissues and offered his hoodie.

I pushed for cuddles. He stopped at a hug.

Bakugou: "Listen, you don't owe anyone anything. Figure out this pronouns shit that you're struggling with, try out different names if you want to. But for the love of God, don't rush yourself."

Bakugou and I had a more solid understanding of each other that day

(he also gave me tips on binder measurements, should I want to get one)

Kaminari Denki

I imagine that Kaminari and I have a relaxed and open friendship, that we'd tell each other anything on any given day.

We operate on the same wavelength, basically.

We were talking about attractive people in the fandoms we're in together and he just---

Kaminari: "it's so hard being attracted to so many people sometimes"

Me: "IKR, everyone's so hot, it's so unfair!"

Then the topic of sexuality came up

Denki being the open and honest dumbass he is just blurts out "I'm definitely not straight. Have you seen the guys in our class?"

And I'm like "but the girls tho. They're so pretty!" And we just simp for ages.

Eventually, I say "at this point, I know I'm not straight, and I'm probably not fucking cis either. 2020 fucked up everything and sprinkled some rainbows on top."

Kaminari freezes.

So do I.

Me: "like it's not necessary a solid thing, I've just been questioning so much lately and--"

Kaminari: "saaaaame."

We just stare at each other in slight shock

And then talk about being genderfluid and messing around with names and pronouns and expression together.

So basically, two sides of the same coin.

I love him.

Sero Hanta

Early morning cooking w/ best boi

He has a new vegan dish he wants me to try out since I love cooking (you need to get better at it tho)

I pop the question "hey, what do you think about nonbinary people?"

Sero just shrugs cause he "doesn't really care" but in reality he's fucking panicking, like holy shit, do they know something?

but then I say "what if I said I was nonbinary?"

He just pauses.

Me: "well, specifically genderfluid I think, but we can get into the mechanics of that later."

Sero: "holy shit, I thought I was the only one."

I start screaming internally. Are all my friends somewhat queer?

We just start exchanging life experiences in a chill manner.

Because everything is chill with Sero.

I love him (X2)

Kirishima Eijirou

After training one day, M*neta makes a comment on my chest and I just shrivel up and die a little.

(chest dysphoria with giant honkers is fucking terrible)

I storm out, arms over chest, and just go into a slight state of panic.

Kirishima punches the grape and chases after me.

We just speed walk in silence back to the dorms while he pesters me to talk to him.

Which I don't, because hey, I'm stubborn.

Kirishima: "if you won't tell me what's wrong, I'll just go ask Kaminari."

Me, slightly offended: "So you'd rather get a half baked story from someone else?"

Kirishima: "NO! WHICH IS WHY I'M ASKING YOU!"

We stop. I huff and just blurts out that I think I'm genderfluid.

Me: "everyone in the squad but Mina knows so far. And Mineta triggered a bit of dysphoria and I wasn't expecting it to hit that hard. And I didn't want to tell you so soon because I wasn't sure you'd accept me. And I didn't wanna lose you because it's scary being confused and not everyone wants to deal with that bullshit and--"

Immediate bear hug. Not even giving me a chance to finish the last sentence.

Kirishima: "I'd be damned if I let a good friendship go to waste because of something like that."

I start crying.

He wipes my tears.

Kirishima: we can talk about it further in the dorms if you want?"

Me: "Okay."

Mina Ashido

Mina approaches you in a chill manner, not at all about to drop a bomb on you.

Mina: "why is everyone ignoring me lately? It seems like you guys have your own in thing and I'm not apart of it."

Me: "It's nothing, I promise"

Mina: "an obvious lie."

We go back and forth about how she feels left out and how none of us are doing that on purpose. Hurtful words are said, especially about me being the new addition.

Then she mentions how we're the only girls in the squad so we should stick together, which makes me snap.

Me: "Mina, I'm fucking genderfluid, alright? The bracelets Kirishima got me? Gender markers. Sero and Kaminari hanging out more with me? Because they're willing to cope with the confusion that comes with all of this. Bakugo acting weird and actually calling me by name for once? I begged him to use the new name because it means something special and I wanted to try it out without anyone else being weird about it!"

Silence.

And then a hug.

And then tears.

Like a lot of tears.

Mina apologizes for kind of forcing me to come out.

I say sorry for not saying anything sooner and leaving her out of the loop.

Love and forgiveness and acceptance all around.

However, it takes a whole for her to adjust to not using gender specific compliments on certain days, or to even see me as Not A Girl™.

But we learn and we grow.

(This is literally just me trying to write out some of my frustrations about being confused and wanting acceptance - BUT this was before I told some of my friends about what's going on, so.....yeah.... Sorry if it doesn't make sense, or if it just jumped around too often. I wrote this in a flurry.)

#bnha headcanons #bakusquad #kaminari #bakugo #kirishima #sero #mina #Genderfluid #nonbinary #coming out

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elisaleis · 3 years

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Let's talk about Eating Disorders !!!

First of all, I am going to say that each eating disorder is a world apart from the person who suffers from it. Here I am going to talk exclusively about my experience (I do not compare myself or want anyone to compare me) Also to say that all kinds of eating disorders are not something that we wake up with overnight, it has a process that can last for years. or more at the beginning, which highlights that deep down a story is hidden, traumas that most of the time has nothing to do with food.

I do not recommend anyone to start with this disorder by making their own decision, it is a slow and quite sad process that always has a solution when it comes to the thought of "Wanting to lose weight." So please, if you have that ideology, seek help from nutritionists or a health professional, because this in itself is more trauma along with the psychological aspect. "Take Control because someone or something has taken it out of our life." That said, if this is your case please Get out of here, Love yourself and Feel Happy with your Own Being.

My story began with a trauma from a very young age and with this an ideology that in my experience cannot be erased with any psychological treatment or therapeutic help. I am not going to relate my trauma here because I will not expose myself in this way. I lived many years enduring a pain that killed me inside. Depression, Anxiety and Hallucinations (Flash-back) with those painful moments of my childhood. Anorexia was a very slow process, it took years in which unconsciously the relationship with food became a Control to make my own decisions. Before, I always had a sad and insecure time, until I seized that control that was lacking in my life. Not physically but emotionally I felt indestructible. (I want to emphasize that the greatest goals and ideas achieved throughout my adolescence was in this period of eating disorder).

When control became obsessive, then I did fall into that sad Edge of Disease. I reached 85 pounds without even realizing it. I went out on my own and resumed a Fitness diet reaching 115 pounds and being envied by many people. But what do you think? It was not me. I was not happy and that control had disappeared, I went to therapies which did not help and that trauma as a child became a current idea. I didn't count calories and was on an Intuitive-only diet. Sadly, Anorexia is a layer that protects me from my own mind to no longer idealize these experiences, like a pill that would make me forget all that past. As expected, I would relapse again looking for that phase of feeling pure and confident again. That was when these 2 photos were taken (very happy and without lying much more than now, and much more being recovered) I had returned to weighing 85 pounds, and I did not feel it physically. I carried out my normal life as if nothing was happening. As I did not realize it, I fell back to a lower extreme (without any awareness) 75 pounds was the lowest weight that I have now reached.

I did not feel excessively bad physically either (EYE, MY OWN EXPERIENCE), but it is clear that it had gotten Hugely out of hand. After a few months I climbed to 95 pounds (own choice because of my increased low heart rate and blood pressure). At this time, I was leading the best life I had ever led. I consumed 2000 calories and all kinds of food, including tacos and chocolate in each of its versions. Towards a normal life in which having an eating disorder was one of the ideas that no longer fit in my head. I kept counting my calories and keeping track of everything, which obviously took me away from all those thoughts of the past. The rule is simple: "Control what you eat and Control will keep you confident in what you do." Knowing that nothing changed in me, I felt safe, fulfilled and very happy with that idea of "Sick" out of my head. I was just liberal and happiness was pouring out of my pores.

The Pandemic (2020) arrived and with this I stopped going to Gymnastics and I got a little depressed. I myself wanted to gain a little more up to 106 pounds due to the fact that the harassment was unbearable (something unfortunately very sad and worrisome) Wherever I went I attracted attention in a bad way, wherever I went I received insults and obscene words. Even Social Networks for me was a nightmare. They harassed me about Anorexic and wanting to encourage other girls to do the same. All that when I only led a normal life for my liking.

At 106 pounds, I was more or less escaping from this situation. I went away to the University to start my new life. I had a bad time and with it a bad experience. The quarantine made me lock myself in a room with no exit for 15 days. The food did not carry its respective labels, in addition to being highly processed and with junk that in my entire life I would never have consumed in that totality. (The treatment of the school was terrible, besides that I identified myself as Vegan to protect myself from foods that I would never or barely taste, I was not respected, and even insisting nothing change) I lost control, which made me realize how bad I was . School did not last long, I returned to my state in just 3 months, in which from 47 kilos I reached 57 of these. My ideas fell apart, I did not have that strength to protect me from all evil. Those traumatic ideas of the past returned and with these I felt a failure, but adding the fact that it was not my own initiative to get out of my sick situation.

With everything and this I want to say that an Eating Disorder goes beyond what the perspective makes us see. When I am almost 21 years old, I cannot overcome my traumas and the safest way to do so is by covering them in Anorexia. My case is very difficult to deal with and for this reason I return to being that old I of the past, we all deserve Happiness and I will therefore seek mine in one way or another. Nobody knows what goes on inside the mind of a sick person, so harassing and blaming someone for a disorder that is visible to you is in itself a void act of pure cowardice. For you who just want to try this sad world of Anorexia (or another eating disorder), I ask you please that it is not what it seems. Never try it for anything or anyone. A problem with food can be easily solved if you give yourself the courage to accept it and go to the doctor, however, these diseases as I said before go much further and must be treated for secondary factors and triggers. We seek to control our life, or heal all the wounds caused by covering them with an invisible and destructive force. This has been my own experience and opinion. Nice Day, and Take Care Precious. :)

Elisa Rodríguez, Leislanis Biderst

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ibtk · 3 years

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Book Review: THE SEVENTH MANSION by Maryse Meijer

(Full disclosure: I received a free e-ARC for review though Edelweiss. Trigger warning for sexual assault, homophobia, violence against animals, and disturbing sexual content.)

-- 4.5 stars --

There is this person I love. And he’s not even a person.

After Xie's parents split and an environmental disaster sends his already precarious mental health spiraling, Xie and his father Erik relocate from California to an unnamed town in the rural south, in search of the proverbial fresh start.

At first, Xie is your garden-variety teenage outcast: melancholy. goth. vegan. an outsider. friendless. forgettable. Yet he's quickly "adopted" by the only other vegans in the school - girlfriends Jo and Leni, who together make up the entirety of FKK.

The group's animal rights activism slowly evolves from leafleting to direct action: the trio breaks into a local mink farm, freeing as many of its captives as they can. Xie is nabbed during the getaway, and suddenly he goes from "nobody" to "that freak who vandalized the Moore farm". Instead of silence and indifference, Xie is met by hostile sneers, gossip, and relentless bullying. He takes a leave of absence from high school, instead getting one-on-one tutoring at the local library. His parents are forced to pay restitution, and Xie's placed on probation.

Xie's only respite is nature: his burgeoning vegetable garden; the small but pristine forest behind his house; and, eventually, the mysterious light, nestled among the branches, that leads him to a tiny church - and his beloved. St. Pancratius, who was martyred in 304 A.D. and whose remains are on covert display in a one-room church in the middle of nowhere.

He traces the image with his finger. The story the same in every version: A boy on a road, refusing to lift his sword against the lamb, losing his head every time the story is told, again and again and again.

Still, all of this comes with a cost: loving nature, whether animal, vegetable, or mineral, means saying goodbye to it one day. Relationships can be messy, even when they're with clean bones. Sometimes we get so wrapped up in our own shit that we're oblivious to what our loved ones are going through. Maybe your tutor shows up to work one day piss drunk and tells you about her abortion. Or your friends drag you to a backwoods meeting of environmental activists, where one of them sexually assaults you. Or you show up to a mass protest that is even more massive than you anticipated, and find you're unable to protect yourself, let alone the 55 billion+ land animals slaughtered for food every year in the US alone (animalclock.org).

The problem is too big, even when it's one of the smaller ones. The problem is impossible.

While disturbing, Xie's theft of a skeleton is not the worst crime he'll commit in his teen years. As FKK becomes involved with a local animal rights group, and Xie's sanctuary is threatened, he careens toward an inevitable (????) collision with the outside world, which neither understands him - nor cares to. (Fuck capitalism.)

THE SEVENTH MANSION is one weird-ass book; I mean, the main character has sex with a skeleton (!). This is certainly the wildest aspect of the story, but it's not alone. For example, take the narrative structure, which has a kind of stream-of-(Xie's)-consciousness vibe. Many of the sentences are fractured, even forced, as though we're pulling them from the depth's of Xie's tortured soul. His thoughts. Are broken. Up. Like this. Conversely, there are no chapters, and so many of the paragraphs are just huge, unbroken blocks of text - almost as though Meijer is framing Xie in opposition to the larger world around him.*

I suspect that THE SEVENTH MANSION is one of those love it or hate it dealios. Personally, I loved it, even as some parts proved excruciatingly unbearable to read.

I don't know whether Meijer is vegan, but she gets so much right; sometimes it felt like she was rooting around inside my head. I went vegetarian my freshman year of college (1996, not to date myself) and vegan about 9 years later. Reading Xie was like having a mirror held up to my own depressive, anxious, vegan psyche. One thing carnists probably don't realize about walking around this world as a vegan is: it takes a ton of mental work, of suppression and dissociation, just to get through the day.

Animal suffering is omnipresent, and largely accepted. From Carl's Jr. commercials to classroom trips to the zoo; leather car seats to team lunches at non-vegan restaurants, where you'll be forced to watch your coworkers and friends devour the corpse of a once-living creature - someone's mother, brother, or child - we are constantly forced to bear witness to the oppression of animals. Worse, to pretend as though it's of no consequence: just to get along, or because doing otherwise would quickly devour your time, your prospects, your relationships. To say that it's depressing is an understatement.

Whether Xie is living through the oil spill that finally made his world "snap," or gazing into the eyes of caged mink, I was right there with him, trying not to cry. Not to break. There's so much suffering in the world; if you try to take it all in, to truly understand its scope, it will swallow you whole.

Speaking of the oil spill, which was the impetus for Xie to go vegan - Meijer's description of this moment in Xie's life brought back so many memories. When I decided to stop eating meat, I was working at a local grocery store. Every now and again, they had an employee appreciation dinner (in lieu of a raise, natch), which basically consisted of all you can eat burgers and hot dogs in the break room. Everyone would stuff their faces, taking in as many free calories as possible. Not because they were hungry, but to get as much of a leg up on our cheap ass employer as possible. The sheer gluttony and waste of it all is what finally did it for me. No one needed to eat seven hamburgers in one night; we did because we could, because not doing so would be to lose out. The working class eating the chattel, and no one eating the rich.

Point being, that's a singular moment in my life that I'll never forget. It stands out in stark relief, right alongside the deaths of my husband and furkids (six dogs and one cat down and counting). If I close my eyes, I can almost transport myself back there, white starched shirt, demo table, 7PM Friday fatigue, and all.

The last time he ate meat he was twelve years old, after the spill: Xie was Alex then. Even miles from the beach, they could smell something off; at first they thought it was the sandwiches, ham pressed hot in the pockets of Erik’s windbreaker, but the closer they got to the beach the stronger the smell became, noxious, chemical. They parked at their usual spot, yellow tape blocking access to the beach beyond. A black ribbon flat against the horizon; that was the water. No trace of blue. On the rocks below the lot a half dozen pelicans huddled together. Coated from beak to foot in oil. Don’t touch them, his father said. Someone will come wash it off. But there was no one. The black sea lapping the sand. Those bewildered eyes. He watched as one of the birds collapsed, its head twisted sideways against its folded neck. His father pulled him away. The fire on the water burned for two weeks; the beach remained black for a year. Sea turtles, dolphins, whales, gulls, crabs, otters, fish, birds rolled up by the waves in the tens of thousands. Oil on meat on sand. No stopping it. Xie got headaches, bloody noses; he was always tired, couldn’t sleep. His mother standing in the doorway, Stop playing games, you’re fine. But his father was never angry. Scared of what he saw. Xie in the dark. Unable to make it from one room to another. The people who used to go to the beach just went somewhere else. Life as usual. Slumped in the backseat as his father fed gas into the truck he suddenly couldn’t stand it. Stopped standing it. He opened the back door, started walking. Alex, his father called, but he was not Alex anymore. He poured out all the milk in the house and fed the meat to the dogs next door and rode his bike everywhere.

So yeah, our circumstances may be different, but Xie's conversion sure hit me in the feels.

Meijer also does an excellent job capturing the heartbreak and urgency of Millennials and Gen Z. As tormented as I might have been in high school, at least I had the luxury of not thinking too much about climate change - at least until Al Gore came along. Xie and his peers, on the other hand, will bear the brunt of their predecessors' unchecked greed. Nowhere is this divide more eloquently laid bare than in Jo's post-march argument with Erik (who is likely around my age):

Didn’t you see how he just folded up out there? He can’t protect himself, he won’t. You don’t know what he was like, before we came here, okay, you didn’t watch him, lying in bed day after day, ready to cut his goddamn throat because of all this shit, this constant litany of doomsday statistics, he just takes it in and he can’t—he doesn’t know what to do with it, and you want to keep shoving it in his face, when it’s—it’s enough! Staring at Jo, who stares back. Look, whatever you’re afraid of, whatever he’s afraid of, it’s already happening, okay? And he knows it, he’s living it, and he wants to do something about it. If there was some other option, some fantasyland where everything is going to be fine as long as we bury our heads in the sand, then believe me, I’d take it. But there’s not. Not for me and not for Leni and not for Xie and if you think you can protect him by denying that then you’re just—wrong. I’m sorry. She holds Erik’s gaze; he nods, the first to look away.

My gods, that scene just cuts me to the bone. As bleak as things are now, I cannot imagine going through all this - climate change, COVID-19, a Trump presidency, Democratic ineptitude/complicity, *gesturing wildly* - as an adolescent. Their elders cut them down before they even started crawling.

On a lighter note, Xie's scenes with his clueless mom and her equally clueless new husband (Jerry!) brought a(n admittedly wry) smile to my face. If I had a penny for every times this scene has played out in my life, I'd have enough cash monies to start my own animal sanctuary.

Don’t you want some vegetables, Xie? Jerry asks. I don’t eat animal products, Xie murmurs, and Jerry, confused, staring at the green beans, How is this— Butter, Xie interrupts. Butter is from milk, which is from cows, which are animals. Jerry blinks. Gosh, I didn’t even think of that. Sorry. Xie shrugs.

There's so much to obsess about here: I love Jo and Leni together, and their opposing circumstances just make the relationship so much more complex - and potentially fraught. Erik and tutor Karen (I wonder if the name choice was intentional?) are interesting supporting characters, and their relationships with Xie are so beautiful and nuanced; they both support him the best they know how.

Xie's interactions with his phantom lover are a little more confusing and difficult for me to comprehend. Perhaps P. represents Xie's inability to connect with the human world around him, or at least not as well as the more abstract, ephemeral natural world. Possibly P. is Xie's ideal human: one who would rather die than raise a finger against an animal (or one who cannot disappoint you by voicing their own opinions). Or maybe it's simpler than that, and Xie's hallucinations are just that: hallucinations. In any case, it made an already odd book absolutely bizarre, but in a good way, so I can't complain.

* This could just be because I was reading an early copy in need of further editing - but, seeing as how some formatting was already present, I think it was intentional. https://www.goodreads.com/review/show/3672191091

#books #book review #veganism #animal rights #Maryse Meijer #the seventh mansion #lgbtq #depression #anxiety #environment

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rinnnyxr · 3 years

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Cancer an unpaid therapist terrifying when angered there for you when no one else is loves sleep laughs literally at anything selfless quite but smart speak their mind fall in love quickly supportive introverted reliable sometimes over emotional really strong under pressure overthinks a lot honest but secretive cut people out of their life easily worried about future sensitive apologizes too much so sweet unless you trigger them can understand others really well polite faithful stylish 19/25

Scorpio straightforward can be stubborn passionate observant and cautious opinionated sweet if treated well love and hate with their whole heart secretive feelings are intense over protective mysterious has a really strong personality hate losing true and loyal friends likes to be in control brave savage mature can be brutally honest emotional but doesn’t show it can get obsessed fast dark humor their emotions are so deep they seem tough from outside can go from cute to scary in a second 18/25

Pisces generous don’t tolerate rude and judging people good at telling stories escapist get used by some people a lot empathetic introverted and quite artistic sensitive sometimes selfless always daydreaming hopeless romantic loyal to a fault not argumentative but stand up for what they believe like to help people mature get along with different kind of people forgive fast but doesn’t forget sweetest if well treated feels other people’s emotions can spot fake and lie easily great sixth sense scary when angry secretive and vague independent 16/25

I am happy right now. I am 5’6” or taller. I have a boyfriend/girlfriend. I like to read books for fun. I like horror films. I like science fiction films. I like romance films. I have been in a car accident. I believe in ghosts. I like Nicholas Sparks novels. I believe in reincarnation. I have had my wisdom teeth pulled. I pray on a regular basis. I have a bible. I read the bible. I have been to another continent. I have a crush on one of my friends. I am not a virgin. I have lived in the same house my entire life. I like talking on the phone. I have read comic books. I collect something. I have done drugs before. I have smoked before. I have gotten drunk before. My parents are still together. I have written a song before. I think I can sing well. I have blonde hair. I have brown hair or black hair. I have red hair I have unnatural coloured hair. I have freckles. I have stretch marks. I am straight. I am gay. I am neither or somewhere in between. I have been in a fist fight before. I have performed something in front of 20 people or more. I have self harmed. I have attempted suicide. I have been abused by a relationship partner. I have been abused by a family member. I have run away from home. I have self harmed for more than four years. I like to cook food. I like to bake food. I have a dog. I enjoy camping. I can fit my hand inside a Pringles can. I have changed for someone else. I like to read fanfiction. I like to write fanfiction. I have used a typewriter before. I have skiied before. There is someone I’ve had a crush on for more than four months. I have talked to that person today. I live on my own. I prefer texting over calling. I talked to my dad today. I’m keeping a secret from someone I care about a lot. I like to sing in the car. I hum a lot. I had a bully in school. I was a girl/boy scout. I am Batman. I’ve stolen from my parents before. I’ve stolen from a store before. I have a favourite piece of classical music. Chinese food is my favourite. I have a favourite ninja turtle.

You pretty much always have a cup of tea or a bottle of water with you. You think enjoying the moment is more important than catching it on camera. You enjoy watching documentaries. You spend most of your time alone and have no close relationships. You joined Pottermore and were sorted into Gryffindor. You have a dry and sarcastic sense of humour. Long, dark winter nights drain you. Summer is by far your favourite season and lifts your mood a lot. A lot of the time you have to laugh at your own bad luck. Your mood plummets if you don’t follow a health and fitness routine. Your favourite ever music video is Lana Del Rey’s Ride. You love lazy summers spent going for walks and lounging in the garden. You love to spend your time lost in a good book. You watch American Horror Story and Asylum is your favourite season so far. You’ve overcome a lot over the last year but have slipped up recently. You prefer sitting exams to completing coursework. You love long car journeys spent listening to music. You find learning about how people lived in the past interesting. Your parent’s closed-minded attitudes frustrate you. You’ve grown very used to loneliness. You prefer getting up early and having productive mornings. You try to enjoy dancing in public but you still feel very awkward. You can’t even be bothered to hold grudges and find them pointless. Winona Ryder is one of your favourite actresses. You don’t find award shows very interesting. You have no patience for people who are glued to their phones. You’re a bit of a hypochondriac. You enjoy warm evenings spent doing yoga in the garden. Sunsets are one of your favourite things about the planet. You prefer to avoid medication but appreciate it’s necessity sometimes. You find talking to older people easier than talking to ones your own age. You’re naturally quiet and content with being that way. Your handwriting seems to change every time you pick up a pen. You dislike the thought of ever being dependent on anybody. Texting bores you and you’d rather just make a phone call. You like to hear about other people’s music tastes. You prefer to keep your living space clean and tidy. Anxiety controls you more than you’d like to admit. You can hardly even cope with being around people because of it. You can’t decide whether you prefer cities or countryside. You’re pretty much incapable of ever relaxing. You like discovering and being introduced to new music. Your favourite song by The Smiths is What Difference Does It Make. You procrastinate things you don’t feel capable of doing perfectly. You keep pretty much everything to yourself. You have quite a temper but you’re good at controlling it. You much prefer skirts and dresses to jeans. You’re not really a fan of alcohol anymore. Your parents let you down when you needed them the most. You have a pretty awful relationship with your mum and it upsets you. You dream of finding a sense of belonging somewhere. You’re a fan of The Cure. You love doing toning exercises, especially stomach workouts. Patience is definitely not a trait of yours. You don’t expect anybody to take an interest in you or be there for you. The Devil and God Are Raging Inside Me is one of your favourite albums. You’re a university student. You waste too much time on Tumblr and the internet in general. You’re an Arctic Monkeys fan. You’ve read and loved The Outsiders by S.E Hinton.

I AM: outgoing, a sister, overwhelmed, helpful, kind, overweight, tall, caring, a shopaholic, energetic, hopeful, smart, over 18, religious, sexually active, a mother, a good singer, ugly, insecure, a natural blonde, a leader, shy, inquisitive, determined, thirsty, frustrated, registered to vote, independent, hungry, self-conscious, a hard worker, skinny, paranoid, in love, a college/uni student, a dreamer, a movie buff, usually happy, easily entertained, quiet, a daddy’s girl, a smoker, employed, happy with my life, anxious, a pothead, healthy, on a desktop.

I HAVE: an iphone, a laptop, anxiety, drugs, a tumblr, an addiction, a dog, my own car, a degree, a job, trust issues, a temper, a brother, a big house, blue eyes, a lot of clothes, a twin bed, a big family, netflix, to pee, odd taste in music, a large book collection, fast internet, a big imagination, my license, curly hair, short hair, a messy room, acne, a phobia, a medical condition, an awkward smile, some kind of collection, taken over 1,000 surveys, a personal blog that nobody sees but me, gotten lost while driving, been to warped tour, big feet, bills to pay, a lot of strong opinions, a pool, an xbox, a cold, a lot of music, more than two piercings.

I WANT: a boyfriend, more money, a better body, to adopt, to move out, a new computer, to lose weight, something I cannot have, food, a baby, my hair to grow out, a new life, to be more confident, a tattoo, fast food, alcohol, more friends, to go on vacation, to see a new movie coming out, to go shopping, a new phone, a piercing, concert tickets, someone to hang out with, to start working out, to be famous, to see a certain someone, more clothes, to donate blood, bigger boobs, someone to cuddle with, a job, smaller thighs, to learn how to play an instrument, my favorite band to release a new album, someone to love, a new pet, to go to sleep, to grow up, to change something about my personality, breakfast food, them to make a new pokemon game, a new ipod, a popsicle, to learn a new skill, to be more organized, to go to college, someone to bring me breakfast in bed.

I THINK: abortion is wrong, xanga is dying, I’ll die young, I’m a good person, too often, I’m going to hell, pickles are gross, a lot of popular things are overrated, people underestimate me, my taste in music is perfect, I need a new layout, I’m pretty responsible, gay marriage should be legal, I’m going to dye my hair soon, I’m funny, I’m going to make a huge decision soon, my parents hate me, I’m pretty, I have a mental disorder, I annoy people, something is seriously wrong with me, of better days, a lot of Disney Channel stars grow up to be trash, The Hunger Games is overrated, the best things in life are free, popular music is pretty awful, I could be a vegan, I’ll make a good mother, I spend too much money on clothes, I’m too good for guys my age, I worry too much, goths are scary, the survey community is dying, politics are stupid, foreign languages are interesting, hipsters are annoying, bolding surveys are the best, everything is better with cheese, Twilight is overrated, I will be alone forever, I might go to bed soon, I may try something new soon, I’m pretty boring, I may never stop taking surveys, McDonald’s is gross, celebrities are overpaid, people use me a lot, Valentine’s Day is a joke, nobody is truly original.

I LOVE: animals, shopping, cooking, going to concerts, jewelry, glitter, reading, bright colors, make up, taking pictures, hot showers, texting, going to the theater, children, anime, being girly, working out, my life, where I live, summer, fruit, candles, photography, eating, learning, rainy days, walking, painting my nails, doing my hair, music, xanga, facebook, feeling needed, getting comments, tumblr, helping others, volunteering, cuddling, chewing gum, youtube, dresses, touch screens, decorating, writing, finding money in my pockets, Comedy Central.

I HATE: cleaning, driving, big crowds, politics, religion, musicals, talking on the phone, crying, fast food, going to the doctor, meat, vegetables, sitcoms, my body, my life, my parents, long fingernails, bad grammar, cocky people, being single, facial hair, having no signal, losing, working, doing the dishes, bugs, children, straight edge kids, racists, going to the dentist, going to school, arguing, hospitals, being pale, having scars, hot weather, wearing socks, listening to the radio, animal cruelty, stretched ears, wearing glasses, when nobody texts me back, anime, having nothing to do, when I have stray hairs stuck to my shirt, waiting, bad hair days.

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myrecovery18 · 4 years

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A year in Recovery

After a year in recovery from restricting there are things that I noticed I did before that I no longer or rarely do or that I’m able to eat now. Plus a little tips on what helped me recovery and stick with it.

TW: MENTIONS OF RESTRICTING, ANAMIA, BIRTHCONTROL, RECOVERY, TO THE BONE, TRAINING, LEARNING TO LOVE YOURSELF, SELF RECOVERY TIPS, & LITTLE HEALTH RANT IN THE MIDDLE.

I’m aware I can’t count calories anymore because I mentally will go under 1,500 calories without fail.

When I use to eat I use to watch an edit of “To the Bone” religiously, I only watch it now when I want to. I don’t want to watch it when I eat.

I use to sit in class and save food recipes or pictures of food to a Pinterest board instead of paying attention because I got bored and was thinking about food

I use to workout for an hour and a half in the morning and would get pissed if I couldn’t. I quit working out for a year until I was able to and injured my knee only to restart this year because working out is the one thing I know that helps relieve stress. Instead of focusing on working out as a form of losing weight, I focus on it now as a hobby, if I don’t do it one day that’s fine. I don’t get upset at myself. That took awhile to build that mentality especially coming from a 10 yr athletic background with a physical sport that required you to train 3 hours a day like volleyball.

I used to eat and feel panicked about being watched by others; rarely do I think about that now. I can’t give you advice on how to stop that mentality.

I avoided eating Garlic bread for six years, it was apart of my fear foods. I nearly cried when I ate it for the first time this year and didn’t feel an ounce of anxiety. It still scares me the idea of eating it, but physically eating it doesn’t bring me anxiety.

There are days where I eat one meal and I don’t blame myself, but I do let others know that I forgot to eat because my hungry cues didn’t signal that I was in fact hungry and needed to feed myself.

While in recovery, I’ve come to realize that when I miss a meal, my body will pick up either the next day or two days later and tell me it’s hungry. I don’t force myself to eat if I’m not hunger.

I use to cook myself every meal so I knew what was going into it or I monitored what my family was putting into the food. I don’t do that now or I use to make my own plate and make it smaller than I needed it to be. I allow for them to cook my food and plate it if they want to.

I use to have bad mood swings; I rarely do.

I use to drink coffee because I knew it is a natural laxative for me when I was having a bad day; I don’t drink it anymore for that reason. I drink it because I like the taste and enjoy coffee. The upset stomach is a negative now.

Being told to lose weight by doctors or family members or that I was getting bigger would trigger me but now I don’t bother to acknowledge it since I know most doctors don’t acknowledge the pills I’ve been on caused the weight gain. The only doctor I’ve accepted the weight loss advice was my neurologist because I went through all the test and they came back normal, so I know I suffer from migraines naturally.

Birth Control Pills: I’m not a fan of them and refuse to be placed back on them despite the other ladies I go to pushing it on me to regulate my abnormal bleeding I recently had. Despite the fact I told her it was caused by the other Gyno’s failure to notice that it counteracts with my migraine medicines and caused the bleeding to extend by putting me on the birthcontrol pill I didn’t want (Side Note: I have iron deficiency anemia that no one can really fix because my panels come back with a weird combination so due to the gynos mistake it kicked in and I had to take my iron pills because I was getting exhausted too fast because of my blood loss which made me have more headaches. I do not take them daily because my previous doctors said I had too much iron in my system but I have a hard time storing it which is why every doctor I see can’t really fix it or diagnose it again because my panels read either too high, normal or low, so cheers to that.) I know this because my recent period lasted 7 days and was normal flow similar to how they use to be before I got on before control. I say this because your doctors won’t listen to you and will prescribe you a medicine regardless of your wishes. I decided not to take it and even now I’m losing the weight I gained slowly.

My migraine medicine: Is used for both migraines (my neurologist wanted to boost it to the highest dose which I didn’t agree with since I already have the muscle tingles that happen all day and are annoying and could get kidney stones and I know I don’t drink enough water to stop that from happening; so I stuck to the dose I’m on. Again sometimes your doctors can be wrong. GO with what you’re comfortable with) and weight loss. The weight I’m losing could be contributed to that or the fact I stopped my BC pills, I’m unsure which or the fact I’m working again.

So what helped me recover?

For one, I had a support system that kept me accountable in the form of my boyfriend who knew I struggled with eating. Including one of my highschool friend who kept track of if I eat in highschool when we were at lunch together, when my boyfriend couldn’t be there. Once I got into college, it became my own responsibility to hold myself accountable for eating and sometimes that didn’t happen because I become hyper-focus on one thing (still do) and fail to remember to eat. My boyfriend still checked in whenever he could to make sure I did eat whenever he choose to

I changed my mentality. I no longer look for a diet to do. If I eat what society sees as unhealthy or healthy that doesn’t concern me. I’m going to eat what helps my body because I know what helps it. I know personally if my body doesn’t get enough nutrition I’ll suffer a headache and will get tired later on that day. You have to know your body and that starts with your mental. Some days will be bad and that just comes with recovery.

Eating the foods you like. I’m lucky enough to be on a college campus that allows us to be back in person during a pandemic and is serving us food. By them do this, I don’t often eat in my dorm room so I can save my food or don’t eat out or order in as often. Last semester when I lived in my own apartment, I ordered food a lot and I wasn’t ashamed by it. It just took a lot of my money. My college thankfully has the healthier options available for students who can’t eat meats or doesn’t prefer it. If I don’t eat in my cafetria on campus, I’ll go to our schools tea room if it’s open to grab something to eat if I don’t like anything they have, unless I ultimately have no time left I’ll eat in my room.

I choose to eat whatever. Some days I’ll eat more vegetarian than meat or vegan that vegetarian or I’ll eat more meat if I want it. However, I do know that there’s days I’ll crave pizza. I don’t hold back and I’ll go get a pizza and it’ll last me three or two meals depending on how hungry I am or if I get Chinese food, that’s two meals. I learned to stop holding myself holding myself back from my cravings. If I want something, I’ll eat it.

One of the last things that helped me was watching over people go through recovery the same time I was choosing to. These people have already recovery so they don’t have many videos up anymore from that time in their lives so I can’t tag their channels here and probably won’t ever. But they helped me get through and see that I wasn’t alone. That it was okay to feel the things I was feeling.

Lastly, I learned to start to love myself. I haven’t fully done it yet. But I don’t hate myself either. It’s taking time to realize that I deserve better in life. That despite what I look like, even if it’s at my heaviest or at my lowest I won’t care what people think of me as long as I love how I look. Now that’s been a struggle to work with and I’m only a few months into that mentality, but it feels good. I spent majority of my life avoiding mirrors and avoiding taking pictures with my family to the point I don’t have many pictures of myself from the times I grew up to now. Or I hardly understand some days how I look because I don’t look in the mirror. But I slowly starting to. I can tell in pictures on days where I do love myself and have confidence that I’m happier. I also learned to understand my worth and know that I shouldn’t feel miserable in a friendship.

There’s small things you can do to recover now. It’s not an over night thing. There’s days where recovery will see pointless or if you’re even doing it right or if you’re just faking it for the shits and giggles, but you’re doing a good thing. Ultimately, recovery is about you. It’s not for anyone else. Not for your family, or your friends or your boyfriends or your pets. It’s for you and you alone. Because it only effects you physically and mentally and emotionally. You’re the one who has to deal with it 24/7 and has to actively choose to heal and keep healing every single day. It’s not going to be easy. I only listed a few things I’ve been through that was singular for me and important to me to voice, there were more things I did. I wish you all the best whether you choose recovery now, tomorrow, or in the future. Please stay safe.

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fr0zenfingertips · 3 years

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Weigh in for this morning is 155.2, down 0.6 from yesterday. I was worried because my intake was 1254 cals the other day, the highest that I’ve had in at least a month. It was going to be lower but there were small packages of twizzlers for free in the break room at work and my dumb ass took two of them lol. One package is 300 cals and I ate all of one yesterday, and half of one today. I should have left it alone, but it becomes too tempting when there are things that are actually vegan for once being left there. I have my dinner planned, so today is going to end at 895 cals. It’s not as good as I had hoped while being off of work for 4 days and getting no exercise. I just want to walk outside but it’s -18 C today, and from just being out to drop off my boyfriend at work that was a huge nope. I think it’s time to garbage the rest of that candy and make the next three days better.

I recently found one of my old ed journals, and at the time my weight was 155 and I was freaking out about it, lmao, you sweet summer child. Looking back, I feel like I have more determination this time around to get what I want...closer to the determination I had when my ed first started and got down to 115. Except then I was binging and purging a lot, and restricting way too much to trigger that cycle. I have more self control than I did then, if I messed up and had the twizzlers back then, it would have set off a massive binge. It was definitely more chaotic, especially with the drinking and drugs, but I was determined just the same. Now I only drink once a month at the most, and am drug free, so my head is clear and in the zone. It just has to happen this time, it really has to.

#tw ed talk #ednos #ana #mia #annamiia #calorie counting #ed thoughts

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nickgerlich · 4 years

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Beware MarketingSpeak

We marketers can be a disingenuous lot. Since we live in a society that embraces caveat emptor--let the buyer beware--the burden is placed on the consumer, rather than the seller. The result is that marketers have a lot of leeway when it comes to the verbiage they use to name and describe their product and service offerings.

I think back to some of the beer cans in my collection, specifically to a 1967 entry named Gablinger’s Diet Beer. Never mind the fact that the words “diet” and “beer” should never be uttered in the same sentence, much less product name. What exactly does “diet” mean? That it has fewer calories? No calories?

And a year later, the Peter Hand Brewery in Chicago introduced its Meister Brau Lite, which was purchased by Miller Brewing Company in 1972. The rest is marketing history. Tastes great...less filling, or so the tag line went. But what the hell does “lite” mean? It’s not even spelled correctly, which, of course, allowed for some trademark wiggle room, until the word itself became generic. Does it mean lighter tasting? The beer weighs less? You weigh less if you drink it?

Turns out that Miller Lite, and all of the other light beers that followed, are really just alcohol delivery systems that allow you to drink more before you feel bloated and your drunk @$$ is on the floor.

Yeah, we marketers can sell pretty much anything with the right wording.

So when I saw this morning that Panera is the first national chain to label select items as “climate-friendly,” my attention was piqued. What exactly does “climate-friendly” mean? Does it mean less energy was used to craft them in the cafe? That they are friends with climate change? Or, the carbon footprint used to grow or raise the food is smaller than other items?

The purpose of labeling these items is to showcase the company’s sensitivity to the issue, of course. The company recognizes that “grains, fruits and vegetables are at the lower end of the scale, while dairy products and meat are at the higher end.”

But if you think that only vegan items are going to get this badge, think again. The average consumer might be inclined to think that the focal entrees will be an herbivore’s delight, but that’s not necessarily true, as indicated by the photo above, as well as their Broccoli Cheddar soup. The broccoli may leave a small footprint, but the cheese that smothers it not so much.

In other words, it’s all relative, and patrons must therefore sift through the claims and make wise choices. The feel-good aspect of the campaign is not lost on me, because it leaves Panera looking great. “Climate-friendly” is one of those over-used phrases that has come to have different meanings, depending on who is saying it, and who is hearing it. Smoke and mirrors perhaps? You decide.

And here’s another increasingly over-used phrase: plant-based. Naturally, the vegan in me is excited to find the movement being mainstreamed, but I have to pay careful attention to ingredient lists anyway. Non-plant products have a way of sneaking in where you least expect them.

Like the new entree Birds Eye meatless frozen meal. It is made with veggies and Gardein’s plant-based Chick’N. The way the label is designed leads you to believe that this would be safe for me at least, especially since I am very familiar with Gardein’s many standalone products. They are very good, by the way.

My mouth was watering when I saw this in my grocer’s freezer, so I bought it. Lucky for me, my curiosity saved me from cooking it the next evening when I saw the fine print, which listed milk as an ingredient. Gasp! I tossed it back in the freezer, and took it back to the store the next day when I went for more groceries.

Clearly, Birds Eye knows what triggers will work, and “plant-based” is one of them. It’s not that they lied or anything, because they did come clean on the back, but the label makes it easy to just assume the whole product is plant-based, not just some of it. My bad. I normally read labels, but this one slipped through.

Now I don’t expect any sympathy. I chose this path, and I have to be just as diligent as a person with celiac disease. Marketers, though, will do the minimum required by law, although it sure would be nice if they would just tell everyone up front what the product does or does not contain.

Fortunately, there is one example of marketingspeak to which we can all laugh heartily. Not too long ago I saw signage on a convenience store window touting the new Winston green pack “made with 100% plant based menthol.” Now what kind of a message does this send? That you can smoke these and go vegan? Or even if you don’t take the vegan plunge, that you can smoke these and they will be less bad for you?

Now I’m sure that plant-based menthol is better than a synthetic blend of nasty chemicals, but aren’t we kind of splitting hairs here when it comes to tobacco anyway? I don’t know that I have seen a greater disconnect since the 1970s when regional soft drink maker Vess touted its sodas as being “cholesterol-free.” Come on, man. Who puts bacon in their sodas anyway?

Meanwhile, marketers can argue that caveat emptor allows us to wash our hands of responsibility, but I have to think there is probably a special place in Hell reserved for us right beside the lake of fire.

Maybe they’ll be serving Lite Beer there? One can only hope.

Dr “I’ll Take Two, Please“ Gerlich

Audio Blog

#marketing #plant-based #climate-friendly #Panera

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