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#just ptsd things
thestarlightforge · 7 months
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how to explain to my non-disabled friends who just ✨vibe✨ the experience of being so strung-out exhausted, you look away from your laptop for a sec & imagine your humerus cracking thru your skin so vividly you actually hear the twig sound. like, "huh. if I trip trying to refill my soda, that's what'll happen. goofy 😌" and then I go back to typing
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myceliumtoaster · 29 days
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Me when I disassociate:
Panic! At the disco(nnection)
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Y'all ever have a session of therapy that just takes you out back and just whales on you for like ninety minutes or so? I feel like my soul has been rolfed.
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That feeling when you have a profound trauma breakthrough but you can’t sit with it because you have a meeting in ten minutes.
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I am such a bitch when someone doesn’t give me attention I am sad about it but when someone is interested in me and shows it I am like HISS what’s your problem what do you want????? and I just get scared and curl up in a ball
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silverdragon128 · 11 months
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Petition to remove “Fight Song” from all platforms
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klassikally · 1 year
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When the comfort angst fic gets too real and leads to flashbacks and you gotta work in 3 hours 😝🖕
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inkskinned · 1 year
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something bad happened to you, and you died, and you came back wrong.
not wrong all the way. the little ways. you forget important dates, stopped going out with friends. it's harder to make you smile. you're apathetic towards things you used to love, afraid of places you used to go to cheer up. quieter. flinching. different.
you came back for love. you're still here for love. what pulled you back was a brightness so loud that even death couldn't outshout it. death heard the call and smiled at you and said okay. go home. somebody is waiting for you.
but you came back different. like lot's wife; you've turned into salt. you used to chirp through life in hops and skips; but now you lose skin just standing up. you have to move slower, skimming across this world without-touching-it. most things feel dull - until they're suddenly all-too-much. life, and being alive just rushes up and over you and you get hopelessly crushed.
you try to explain it to them: it is ugly, but this is what you are, now. the huge golden hoop of your halo now a little bronze ring. you are still watering your plants and wearing the same clothes. after all, you worked hard to come home. this life; so odd and off-color, now that you are wrong.
but they waited for you - it's just that they wanted the "you" that happened before this. the "you" that could sing in the show and hug people tight and look at a blade without breaking down to cry. the you with a smile in pictures. god, holyshit, it's like looking at a completely different person, isn't it. that other-you; the one they actually wanted.
you are the consolation prize. you are the body that forgot the ghost. you are the memory of the bad thing, and the death after; like you are wearing that memory as a banner. you are a fragment, an assembly. simulacrum. you don't make eye contact in mirrors, afraid the light will glance off and your true nature will flash back at you.
you hear them talk about it in their hushed, desperate whispers. sometimes they even admit it to your face; harsh and violent, acid thrown at christmas dinner. god, can you just fucking be normal again. you do not remember what normal is. you had to climb so far to get back here; you are far too exhausted. you want to open the glass door of your heart and show all the gears. can you help resolve whatever got messed up?
you try so, so hard. you came back for them. because you believed they would love you, even when you were so horribly broken. because you believed they would be patient. because you believed unconditional meant "without exception." you cannot do things the same way. you just get tired too quickly these days.
you want to put them on a couch and pour them the tea with hands that shake more than they remember. you want to line them up and draw them a map of where you have had to wander. you want to show every bruise in a backsplash; the little helpless ant of your soul carrying all that weight, over and over. you want to say: yes! it is different! but i did it for love!
you want to say: "i'm not the same, but i'm yours and i'm here. can that be enough?"
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psychotic-quirks · 1 year
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teehee almost got charges on me bc mf walked in arms length of me in a fucking dark room and scared the shit out of me so i threw a bowl at him
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saturnsocoolioyep · 5 months
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In the same vein as "I've been taking my medication for long enough that I haven't experienced any symptoms in a while, I must not need to take it anymore! (Spoiler alert: the meds are why you haven't had symptoms)" I present to you a similarly clownish thought process- "I haven't experienced that trigger in a long time, maybe I was just exaggerating how bad it was and it'll be fine to engage with this! (Spoiler alert: take a fucking guess babes)"
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yesokayiknow · 4 months
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man the fact that martha jones would take one look at clara oswald and say Absolutely Fucking Not really makes me want to put them together like post s9!clara is visiting earth when she has a run in with unit and accidentally kidnaps her and can't manage to get her back to earth. aka clara spends several months trying to seduce her except she's clara so martha's like what the actual fuck is wrong with you. stop that
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royalarchivist · 1 month
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[After they talk about Pac's debt to the Pancake Mafia, and Pac warns her about Sir Reaper]
Bagi: I think you're the one that needs to be careful, because soon you might lose your other leg.
Pac: N-no! NO! Please don't! Stop- stop! STOP TALKING LIKE YOUR BROTHER!
Bagi: [Laughs]
Pac: I'll pay you– I'm going to pay you!
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I want to give a MASSIVE thank you to @wasabi-ribs, who was kind enough to check my translations and help me with the parts I missed (and also reviewed the final subtitled video)!
[ Transcript continued ↓ ]
-
Bagi: Pac, pay the rent!
Pac: I'm going to pay! Hey- I'm going to pay right this second, the money that I owe you, and... and I'm- I'm serious! And look, if you want- if you have more money... If I pay your 4,500, will you lend me 4,500? No, then I'll actually drown in fees. [Laughs]
Bagi: [Laughs] I'll lend you, I'll lend you
Pac: No, not really Bagi. You've got those red eyes– I'm scared, Bagi. I don't know– I don't know what happened, actually it's an eye infection, I know– But something tells me it's not just an eye infection, that it's also some other things, you know? Like, um... y'know, right? [He fumbles again] Oh God wait, your brother– when he had those red eyes he would also turn evil. Nonononono– I'll pay you, ok? Where's the waystone? It's here, it's here, it's here– I'll pay you, ok? I'll pay the 4,500- we're gonna–
Bagi: I'll be waiting.
Pac: No no, oh- just– Just let me walk, my God, I love walking– OH, WALKING IS SO GOOD – [Pac teleports] I'll pay her.
[Bagi follows him moments after]
Pac: [Pac mumbles to himself as he begins transferring money to Bagi] 4,500... I need to pay her 4,500...
Bagi: [Sneaks up on him] Oh, perfect!
Pac: [SCREAMS]
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stealingpotatoes · 7 months
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“poncho: jedi master edition” is such a good and necessary cal kestis form, seeing him attempt to teach a gaggle of padawans is simply the best thing i could imagine. i hope they also roast him sometimes in true middle schooler fashion <3
ok so i drew this AGES ago (way before the other post) and I think this counts as an excuse to post it! they probably do accidentally roast him a little but one of the ways they forget compassion in lieu of middle schooler "dont care about adults" is:
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interruptedsblog · 2 months
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I feel empty, I feel a hole in my chest while sadness and anguish are invading me. I don't have enough strength to get up, move, concentrate and eat.
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shrimpleastha · 9 months
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Fantasizing about extremely traumatic scenarios bc it doesn't feel like my trauma is enough
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