#like im already dealing with depression and anxiety on the daily

[kavehater]

I honestly wish people cared more about depression and other issues rather than saying they care but scrutinise a person so horribly when they show symptoms associated with said condition 🧎‍♀️

#everyone’s so horrible about it #if you don’t know what something means you research #I research when my friend says they have an illness or a particular sexuality I may not know about #or just to understand and help out because that’s what friends do right ? #so research if someone tells you they have a condition and learn the symptoms #don’t like it ? leave. #but don’t stick around if you’re not in the slightest tolerant to any speck of symptom they may exhibit #whoever does this is a horrible person #because you signed up for this so you deal with it. it’s so mean to punish someone for something they can’t control #because ppl aren’t nearly as kind to people who are normal as they are to mentally ill people #aren’t nearly as mean to normal ppl* #yeah sure they still have to control themselves etc but you never say this to normal people #you’re never so harsh to normal people if anything those with mental illness need more kindness and understanding and everyone blows it #how are you gonna sit there with full conviction saying I have depression and anxiety ( I have way more than that but okay ) #yet blame me when I can’t commit to my work or blame me for being “lazy” I think as a perfectionist and star student I beat myself up over #that already so why would you hurt me more #alternatively this applies to ppl who get mad at others asking reassurance #im gonna rip my hair out for that why literally why would you have a problem #it’s always communicate this communicate that but in fact everyone’s allergic to communication and they’re not traumatised by it #ZERO EXCUSES BUT SOMEHOW all the excuses for normal people but none for mentally ill ppl #everyone’s sick. this is what I mean when. I say it’s so aggravating seeing people because they’re so hopelessly stupid #in the sense they don’t have an ounce of compassion and are disgustingly selfish thinking of themselves 24/7 and their feelings when not to #compare but ppl have it worse than your dumb ass paper cut - esque issues 😇 #oh but all the sympathy to you and none to the “crazy people” who actually need more compassion than you be so Fr #and if you cope well with your own issues then good 4 u ! but you’re not the standard of the DSM 🤗 you also aren’t any better #everyone copes differently and expresses things differently dependent on their unique exposures circumstances and view of the world #let’s stop pretending that one view is the right view #this doesn’t mean let yourself get abused btw it means using that thing in your head to be reasonable #dora daily

[lilacs-world]

I feel like I’m chronically not okay but idk if I’m valid enough to label myself as chronically ill. I am able to work 40h a week but with the cost of laying in bed the rest of the day when I’m back home. In the weekends I sleep mostly. My room is a disaster because I never have the energy to tackle the chaos. I wished I was able to walk to work and back but standing for more than 15 min is already exhausting me and I get dizzy and lightheaded. I am constantly in pain, my normal pain level is on good days at a 2 on bad days it’s at a 4 or 5 but maybe I’m too modest about my pain due to fear of admitting I’m not okay. I am always tired even if I sleep usually enough. At times I feel more refreshed with only 4 hours of sleep hell knows why. I am waking up daily at 5:45am to get myself ready for 8am work. I don’t know if I’m ever gonna be a functioning adult. I am scared of the moment I will unmask bcs im masking daily due to Audhd. Plus daily I’m confused because we are often switching and my quality at work at times fluctuating and my TLs wondering wtf bcs we know u know all the processes so wtf. Daily I feel like I know only a specific part of the processes and I have days where I ask so many questions that one of the TLs told me they are growing gray hairs bcs of me asking so much. The doctors in my country are shit when I mentioned suspecting we are a system they said nah it’s just ur anxiety. When I questioned if I have adhd my former psych said nah only kids can have it. My former therapist said yeah after unofficially diagnosing me with it. Autism I suspect that too and I got my confirmation more or less from my bf who’s on the spectrum as well. He got his confirmation he has adhd as well by me noticing lots of adhd things in him and he has now meds whilst me is in this godforsaken country that isn’t taking me seriously. I got my confirmation I have adhd when I took speed and realised for the first time "so this is how neurotypicals experience their life?" I for once had a train of thoughts in order and not a carambolage of luggage’s getting stuck in the baggage claim belt. I sobbed so hard. On good days I am able to remember and memorise lots of shit. But on bad days I barely anything. My body is out of control. I have pcos and it’s ravaging my body. I grow hair on my chin and arms and it’s making me uncomfortable and I developed anxiety about having hair in my face to the point over pluck and over shave it. My period is out of control. I either bleed for 2 months consecutive or I don’t have my period for 6 months. I am anemic due to it. I am such a pale human that I’m constantly being asked if I am okay. Oh yeah not to forget having an autoimmune disease since I am 2 years old. Having to deal with psoriasis break outs each winter where I end up being covered on my legs, arms , ass with skin patches of psoriasis. At times it’s even in my eyebrows and on my scalp. Each winter is a torture for me. I am battling with depression as well. Luckily this last year it wasn’t so overbearing and I felt more human than I used to in the past. Nonetheless my anxiety is ravaging and leaving me crippled daily. I sound ridiculous talking about myself rn bcs in my brain I feel like you aren’t this sick or unwell you are faking this you are a horrible human for saying all this things but I know it’s probably my internal ableism and the internal critical subconsciously developed voices of my surroundings telling me I’m not actually sick and I need to go to work even if sick etc. Sigh. Idk where I wanted to go with this whole post. I know you guys don’t see often a personal post from me or posts from me and more reblogs of stuff I enjoy seeing and stuff I wanna boost and stuff I find important or relatable or stuff that I think might make someone feel better and less anxious or feel seen. I hope this is fine. I hope being more real is helpful. Maybe I should do this rambling on my other blog @unfilteredrealities where I tried to talk about life in a real way , unfiltered. You can even send in your own submissions if u want to.

Anyway thanks for reading my ted talk.

TLDR: I don’t know if I’m actually chronically ill and if I’m valid enough to label myself as that and then I rambled about my life experiences with audhd, did, anxiety, depression, pcos, psoriasis and there are more but I’m exhausted.

#lilacs world #lilacs-world #lilac gets personal #ok to reblog #adulting #adult adhd #adult autistic #mental illness #mental health #dissociative identity disorder #chronic illness #chronic pain #chronic fatigue #vulnerability #pls help #i need feedback #psoriatic arthritis #rheumatoid arthritis #pcos #fibromyalgia #disabled? I’m not sure 😭

[traumasurvivorshelpingsurvivors]

seeking advice, support, validation, reassurance, resources, or someone to listen to.

its been like this for me ever since i was a child but there are certain foods i cannot eat or be around or even the smell of will make me gag and sometimes even puke. there's a medical term for it but i just never remember what it is. i have ptsd, adhd, anxiety attacks, and depression. its difficult to say the least on the whole memory stuff. it causes triggers and trauma, its gotten a lot worse over the years and its so bad that if anyone has fruit(that's the trigger food) anywhere near my food or snacks, i wont eat. i cant even do those cleaning sprays with the citrus smell because its a fruity smell and i will get ill. its affecting my daily life, relationships, and physical/mental health. one of my parents thinks I'm "overreacting" or "its not that serious" but my own psychiatrist said i have this thing and its a legitimate medical whatever and i have it. food aversion is like the category its in but what i experience is a lot more intense. are there any books or websites or youtube channels or videos that exist so i can watch/show my parent and finally be seen and not judged? i haven't eaten in 2 days because my parent bought so many fruits and put them right in front of my snacks in the fridge. i already struggle to eat with some slight ED and borderline extreme diets. i make my own diets. i eat two big meals a day and 3 snacks in between. with the third snack being the dessert. usually one of my meals consists of 4 eggs scrambled, 4 strips of bacon, and either red bell peppers or carrot sticks on the side. i do that for either breakfast/lunch(i combine em) or for dinner depending on what i did. basically i have a real medical condition and my own parent thinks I'm overreacting but my medical doctor diagnosed me. what do i do here? im 30 and living with my parents but one of my parents is not well and i help out at home but i also cannot work due to "mental shit" or whatever but i do help out with my parents and chores and housework and the dishes and i cook and bake for them but i myself will flat out hide food or conversation it up to distract from not eating my plate.

Hi anon,

I'm so sorry to hear about what you've been struggling with. It can be exhausting to deal with this, both in how people respond to it and how that impacts your eating habits. Please know that you're not alone in experiencing this. It could be helpful to discuss what you've been going through with your parents, if you're comfortable. This way, they can be more mindful of where they put your trigger foods and you can make sure that you can eat when you want to.

I like to watch Seen Stories and there are a few people who talk about struggling with ARFID, which sounds like what you may be referring to. Here is another resource discussing ARFID. Here is an article by ARFID Awareness. In case it isn't ARFID specifically, here are some articles on food aversion.

If you can access or afford it, a mental health professional such as a therapist could help you navigate your food aversion, as well as the other disorders you deal with. A therapist, ideally one specialized in eating disorders, can work with you to process your experiences and develop a helpful strategy to creating a more balanced diet.

If anyone has any comments or suggestions, feel free to add on. Otherwise, I hope I could help, and please let us know if you need anything.

-Bun

#mod bun #trauma talks

[space-gh0sts]

.

#personal #ignore this one fr fr #like if you see this no you didnt #if you ignore my warnings a keep reading dont say shit to me #anyways #im having an existential crisis again 🙃 #im currently questioning my entire identity again and im also having major imposter syndrome vibes about every aspect of my life rn lol #also i had to go spend time with family today which is always bad for the mental health 🙃 #anyone else have massively racist and homophobic family members who you can't say shit to bc then your living situation would be terrible? #also my period just started and im having my monthly bout of depression and ******** ******** #i really need to talk to my doctor about pmdd bc i either have it or theres something even worse going on with me #bc wanting to kms once a month is honestly really annoying #like im already dealing with depression and anxiety on the daily #i really don't need my hormones ramping it up once a month #anyways im gonna go drink excessively for the first time in a bit and try to forget that i inhabit a corporeal form

[jeonsdear]

i can already tell i’m gonna be that adult being anxious about money and refusing to spend it 

#you know how i am looking into a semester abroad? #so i have anxiety in general which means this is pretty challenging already but i spent the whole day researching and it is SO expensive #we germans are very privileged because we don't pay uni fees and not a lot of money for school supplied #*supplies #and even though school fees would be covered in that exchange program canada is still so expensive #it stresses me out SO much #and i've developed this thing were i don't feel comfortable asking my parents even though they literally pay for me to live #but like...i save my pocket money and i try not to spend a lot ya know #so i can buy stuff i need myself without asking them #i know i should start working or something but believe me when i say i have panic attacks just thinking about it #dunno how to maintain my GPA nor am i good with meeting new people so ugh it's bad #i've been doing pretty okay lately and i feel motivated and i wake up early and im not in a depressive epiode but my anxiety won't leave #like sometimes i think i can handle it i just have to mediatet more etc but it seems to be too serious? idk #another thing that gives me anxiety is the marriage situation of my parents #like you'd think i'd be able to deal with it after a year especially since i'm an adult but nope #i don't think anyone realizes how much i struggle with it daily. it affects me so much and i've been trying to stay positive about it but #apparently i can't make myself believe my own fakery #i know everyone has their own struggles and concerns but it really does affect me so much. i try my best i really do #but as soon as i am a little stressed and overwhelmed i get full blown breakdowns and it's frustrating me because i want to be more mature #but i feel like i'm stuck somewhere where i can't get out and i don't know what to do #i know i have gotten a referral from my doctor for a therapist and i know i should call #but lol jokes on them using the telephone is one of my anxiety triggers #it has gotten better but it still takes time #so i'm waking up every morning thinking about how i should call today but i don't #and i don't know whether i can trust a male therapist? because i'm scared im gonna offend him if i say anything about my dad because i'm #really bitter about men #i need a journal so i stop venting on here #lol #anyway shit is expensive is what i wanted to say #katharina is talking

[kuroo-shitsurou]

Auxilium (College!Xiao x College!Reader)

TW: mentions blood, depression, anxiety

note: it's my first time writing and posting something on tumblr so im sorry if it's bad!! reader is gn hehe.

Late February was never a good time for Xiao.

It was the second month of the year; People were starting to adjust and adapt to the ever-changing and progressing timeline. Although, he never really understood the concept of the "New year, new me!" shtick. Humans make decisions that eventually shape their personalities. What does a new year have anything to do with that? Does a change in the year automatically make you a good person? Does it make you less of an asshole than you might already be? He never really understood.

He found it rather silly, actually. Whenever a new year rolls around, Xiao would mutter silent curses to himself because he'd write the wrong year on his papers. Other than that, there wasn't any significant changes he made in his daily routine. He was still the same Xiao; The same anxious, mildly depressed, and coffee-high art major Xiao.

Now, Xiao was a respected figure in their college (or at least, that's what he was told). He was one of the most talented artists at Tokyo University, and professors have been eyeing him for a scholarship overseas (he, along with his brooding and mysterious senior, Diluc). His keen eye for details always produce great results as most of his portraits are featured in the university's gallery of students' greatest works. Not to mention, one of his larger canvas works were displayed at the Tokyo Museum, making him one of the youngest artists to have their art showcased there.

Admittedly, Xiao was aware of how people admired his talent. Unfortunately, due to a rough childhood where his parents barely showed him any love and affection, he had trouble reflecting his true emotions onto other people. That's why other art majors often labelled him as a self-absorbed, egotistical prick.

Xiao was the last person you'd want to compliment. It's not that he'd be a dick about it or that he'd scowl at you and act as if he was better than you in every way possible. It wasn't like that at all. It's simply because Xiao doesn't know how to handle compliments. He'll still keep his stoic face, lips pressed in a straight line, but deep inside, he'd be flustered to bits. He'd try to internalize his reply, stitching together the right words to express his gratitude, but it would always take him a few minutes. The person who complimented him would've already left after he finally constructed the sentence in his head. Not that he wasn't used to it

This led to Xiao earning his current reputation, as stated earlier. He was already expecting the rest of his college years to be spent alone in his studio, working on his artworks during the wee hours of the night, high on the fumes of his paint palette and his exhausted coffee machine.

Until you came.

Kaoru was... eccentric. You were loud, you were moody. He felt like you'd be the type of person he'd hate dealing with just because you was unpredictable. You were like the rain, and Xiao hated the rain.

He must have an Archon's cursed tongue, because he got paired up with you during the first semester of their second year in college. You were a familiar name to him, as you were in the same course since the first year, but he barely knew anything about you since you were in different classes.

"Hey, Xiao! I'm _____. I hope we can be good friends by the end of the semester!" His memory of your bright smile still remains vivid in his head. He wasn't really a brooding type like Diluc, but Xiao liked to believed that he presented himself as a silent person who had no intentions of interacting with other people. So, how were you so bubbly around him? Because she was forced to do so? You were to be his partner for the whole semester, after all. Maybe it was all formalities. Yeah, that's probably it.

"Hm." Xiao gave a nod in her direction, acknowledging your existence. you heard from your friends that the young artist didn't have a pleasing personality, but you weren't expecting to be shutdown from the get-go.

"Mind if I sit beside you?"

Again, a light nod.

You felt the awkward tension between you and Xiao, and you hated it. You were a person who hated it when people are uncomfortable in your presence. You didn't want to be a bother, and you did your best to make everyone like you. Not that you were a people pleaser, nor an attention hog, but you just wanted to get along with everyone.

The lecture was going to begin in twenty minutes, so the lecture hall was yet to be filled with people. You took the opportunity to strike up a conversation with the amber eyed man beside you, who was typing away on his laptop. Something about color theory and how it affects the perspective of people on different art types? You couldn't really see that well. He was a fast typer.

"So, Xiao, I heard that your painting was displayed in the Tokyo Museum last year. It must have been an honor. I was at the unveiling last year and I saw it up-close." You started off, testing the waters.

"And what did you think of it?" Xiao cringed internally. He meant to genuinely ask for your feedback regarding his art, but it sounded so harsh that he wanted to punch himself when he saw you wince (or maybe you shuddered because it was cold and you were wearing a sleeveless top? His nerves were getting the better of him at this point).

"Well, a lot of my friends told me that it wasn't anything special,"

Ouch.

"It was a large canvas. I can still remember how it looks. But, maybe that's because I'm at the museum every two weeks," You laughed. You noticed how Xiao's breathing noticeably changed after you started your sentence, and you have to admit that it sounded a bit too mean.

"You know, Xiao. My friends told me that your art was simple. Anyone could have done it. But honestly, they couldn't be more wrong. I love how your piece was painted. Auxilium. I'll never forget what you called it. That's... Help, right?"

At first, Xiao didn't want to listen to this person ramble about an art piece he made during one of the lowest points of his life.

His anti-depressants had run out during that one Christmas. It was 2:47 in the morning. He had morning classes the following day. He had a project to submit, but he was unable to continue working because of the unbearable pain in his chest. His head was throbbing. Voices were invading his mind. Flashbacks of his parents' negligence taunted him. He rushed to grab a glass of water, chugging it down in almost three chugs. He slammed the glass back onto the counter, smashing it into tiny little splinters and cutting himself in the process. His hand was bleeding, there were bits of glass on his counter and on his floor, but he couldn't care less. He was heaving, his breathing was unsteady, he wanted to die right then and there. His vision became blurry, but he rushed back to his studio.

With a bleeding hand, he picked up his brush and began to tear into his canvas. Not literally, but he started to create strokes onto the blank canvas. Different colors, different textures (he swore some of his blood got blended in with the area where he painted the sunrise, but it's fine. No one was going to notice, right?). He screamed and cried, wanting to throw the entire easel out his window.

It was Christmas. He was alone in his apartment. His anti-depressants ran out. He was having a panic attack.

That night led him to having one of the worst breakdowns he could remember, but he also ended up with a gorgeous painting that nabbed him a place in the Tokyo Museum.

"Help," Your voice echoed in his ears, snapping him out of his trance.

"People can tell me that it's nothing more than a simple painting, but the way that the sunrise was only showing in a segmented part of the canvas? The way that there were hints of red? It kind of reminded me how a new day can resemble hope but still contain hurt. Like, the promise of a fresh start isn't guaranteed a good one, right?"

Your words rang in his ears like a gong being hit continuously. He wanted to cry. People always complimented him and congratulated him about being recognized by art critics and national museums, but none of them ever really stopped to talk to him about his art. They were there for his recognition- not his work.

"I mean, you could begin with a fresh start, but wouldn't the remnants of yesterday still take a toll on your tomorrow?"

"Hm. Interesting take. To be honest, those specks could have been my blood." Xiao spoke up, to your surprise. A small smile formed on your face. Maybe this guy wasn't so bad after all.

"My hand was cut up when I was painting that," He added quietly, not mentioning why his hand was in that state. "I think I accidentally added too much concentrated red. I couldn't blend it out the way I originally planned."

"Oh? But that makes it all the more great, though!" You beamed, "Maybe it was an Archon guiding you? I don't really believe in that stuff, but acknowledging some divine intervention once in a while can't be all bad, no?" You laughed.

"I guess you're right." For the first time in a while, Xiao actually gave someone else a small smile. It wasn't really a smile per se, but his lips curved even the slightest bit upward, and you decided that it was a win for you.

-

Fast forward to the second semester of their third year.

Late February was never a good time for Xiao.

It was the second month of the year; People were starting to adjust and adapt to the ever-changing and progressing timeline. Although, he never really understood the concept of the "New year, new me!" shtick.

It had been years since he was clinically-diagnosed with mild depression. So, why was he still that way? Shouldn't new years help him be a better person? Or something like that. Why was he still like this?

Late February meant the end of one semester, and the start of another.

What else did that mean?

His semestral feedback report (he refused to call it a report card. What was he, high school?).

"Xiao? Are you here? I bought almond tofu from Xiangling's place. Sorry for barging in, you weren't answering my calls." He heard your voice from the kitchen and he glanced at the clock on his studio's wall.

1:37 AM.

You were at Xiangling's place because you were working on a report about the history of acrylic paints or whatever it was. You were supposed to go home, but you still dropped by his apartment. He checked his phone.

[ 14 missed calls. ]

Yikes.

"I'm here." He answered meekly, but loud enough for you to hear. He felt tired. Defeated, maybe. He was blankly staring at the canvas in front of him. He has sketched the base of your face and upper body. He was planning on painting a portrait of his beloved to decorate his room with, but he couldn't find the energy to continue.

He could hear the soft "thud"s of your feet walking from the kitchen towards the studio, but he tuned it out with an annoying static he could only hear in his head.

Fuck. Where are they?

He rushed to the drawer next to his easels and rummaged around in a panic.

Where the fuck are they?

He kept a few anti-depressants in his studio because he spends most of his time here and he didn't have time to rush to the kitchen to get them if he ever got a panic attack.

"Fuck!" He cursed loudly, throwing the contents of his desk onto the floor. Some of his paintbrushes scattered on the wooden floor of his studio, marking the wood various colors. Maybe they're going to stain, but he didn't really care.

Xiao heard the footsteps retreating until he couldn't hear anything else except the constant ringing in his ears. It was annoying. It was loud. It started to make him want to split his head open.

"_____," He whispered, feeling his chest hurt and his throat tighten. The passageways helping him breathe seemed to close themselves, giving him a hard time and mocking him. It was coming back again.

Tears started to flood his vision, and they rolled down his red cheeks. He took the ponytail out of his hair and used two hands to tug at his locks starting from the roots. His breathing patterns became more erratic, but he tried his best to stay calm.

His knees and legs felt like jelly. He had to lean against the desk to avoid from toppling over.

Why? Why again? Why now? Why when you were here?

He screamed. It was loud enough for the neighbors to hear, but his care for any external entities was out the window the moment his eyes became blurry with tears.

Even though he was leaning against the desk, his legs still couldn't hold the weight of his entire body. His knees dropped to the floor, and he swore he must've dented the wood below, but he paid no mind to it. His knees were also aching, but he could deal with that later. He bent down and pressed his forehead to the floor.

"_____," He whispered again, longing for his partner. "Auxilium."

"Xiao?" The voice was muffled. His eyes were glued to the floor in front of him, but he knew it was you.

"Xiao, stay with me, honey." There was a hint of panic evident in your voice, but he was glad that you didn't let that get the best of you. You was still somewhat calm.

You kneeled down beside him, helping him back to an upright position.

"Honey, you left these on the counter outside." You handed him two tablets of his anti-depressants, and he gladly placed them in his mouth. You also gave him a glass of water, and he downed it in two swift gulps. Afraid that he might underestimate his strength, he returned the glass back to you instead of setting it down himself, nodding at you in the process.

You got into a more comfortable position where you rested your back against the wall, and you guided Xiao to follow you. It was a difficult task; He was very sensitive during his panic attacks.

His semestral feedback reports always made him anxious. He didn't have to please his parents anymore since he moved out years ago, but Xiao had this nagging feeling inside of him to do better with his academics. Nobody was really pressuring him to be a straight-A student, but did he feel like he needed to be? Who was he trying to prove himself to anyway? You knew about his sever panic attacks and how they were more active if he had a big event coming up. The first time you had to deal with it, you were still stiff and trying to learn how you could help. Now, you takes pride in yourself for being able to handle him in the ways you know would help him the most.

"Here you go, I've got you." You cooed, assisting him with moving. You laid his head flat on her lap and she began stroking his beautiful, tousled forest green locks. The highlights he had under the first layer of his hair started to fade, and you made a mental note to take him to a salon so they could get their highlights redone.

"You know, I've been listening to a lot of Coldplay lately," You started speaking, as if Xiao wasn't about to have a full-on panic attack. "Yellow would have to be one of my favorite songs. I guess it's kinda cheesy, but can you blame me?"

You used your free hand to wipe the tears from his cheeks.

"Look at the stars, look how they shine for you." You began singing, voice just above a whisper.

"And everything you do. Yeah, they were all yellow."

Xiao was a reserved person who had a hard time dealing with other people because of his inferiority complex that sprouted when he was young.

"I came along, I wrote a song for you."

He didn't have love and affection growing up. He didn't know how to be the best person to talk to. He had poor communication skills. He was a mess, to be honest.

"And all the things you do. And it was called yellow."

You were the first person who looked past his rough and tough exterior. You were the person who showed interest not just in his name- but in him as a whole.

"So when I took my turn, what a thing to've done."

"Thank you," He murmured silently, noticing that the ringing in his ears vanished. His throat was beginning to open again, and he could finally feel the steady heartbeat he had in his chest.

"And it was all yellow."

Xiao curled himself into a ball, burying his face in your clothed stomach. You smelled a bit like smoke (maybe you ate yakiniku at Xiangling's?) and your faded cologne. It smelled like home. It washed a sense of relief over his entire being. He felt safe. He felt secure. He was being held like a child, but he didn't really mind. Maybe he needed this.

"Your skin. Oh yeah, your skin and bones,"

You craned your neck downwards to look at Xiao's figure. He finally looked peaceful. You knew about his rough past. You knew about the trauma he had to go through, but you chose to look past it because you knew that he was just afraid and... alone. He needed someone to be there for him, and you would rather the world die than leave him alone ever again.

"Turn into something beautiful."

You noticed how his chest started a rhythmic pattern of ups and downs. His breathing was finally steady. He looked at peace. He looked like he was right at home.

"Do you know? You know I love you so."

You couldn't help but chuckle as you watched him sleep in your lap. How could anyone think that this softie was an asshole?

"You know I love you so."

You barely whispered the last part of the song, but it was loud enough for his heart to hear it. Xiao hated when things were unpredictable; that's why he hated the rain. But now, maybe the idea of rain wasn't so bad. Especially since you were his rain.

"I love you, Xiao."

At that moment, you knew that the involuntary smile on Xiao's face was a response that contained more emotions than his words could ever bear.

"I love you too."

#genshin xiao #genshin impact xiao #xiao imagines #genshin impact #xiao x reader #genshin impact x reader #gi #genshin #xiao

[professional-benaddict]

if youd like a prompt, my love, i know in lp you did prosthetics but little peter having to adjust to them just 🥺🥺🥺 or him begging his daddies to let him play but he doesnt know how to use it properly so he cant go 🥺🥺 break my heart rafni -sydney

you asked me to break your heart so !!! im not to blame for this!!🥺🥺

Daddies Stephen and Tony, +18 Little Peter, Littles are Known, accidents, amputation, disability, depression, anxiety, angst, a bit of fluff but mostly angst

It had been a terrible, terrible accident. But, the Daddies had been foolish in thinking the immediate aftermath of the accident and Peter losing his left leg just below the knee was the worst of it. The boy had been through hell already during the amputation recovery, but he can’t seem to catch a break. As soon as his stump had healed enough, the doctors wanted him up on his one foot to prepare for the second and artificial one. Peter’s prosthetic leg.

They have been to numerous fittings during the last few months, and some have been more successful than others. While Peter’s prosthetic is finalised, the boy has to use crutches and exercise daily to maintain his muscle mass. While being bed bound, Peter lost so much muscle already, so they cannot afford to procastinate any longer.

But, as much as the Daddies have tried to decorate Peter’s crutches with stickers and paint, the crutches are hardly attractive to Peter. He couldn’t care less, and all he wants to do is lay in bed and watch his shows. The Daddies have a theory that laying under the covers keeps Peter’s stump out of sight, and thus out of his mind as well. But, they cannot afford to procastinate this any further. Peter has to get up and start using his leg muscles so that they don’t shrink away more than they have already. Otherwise, the prosthetic won’t fit and Peter won’t have the strength to walk at all. The longer they wait, the worse it will be.

“Peter, baby?” Tony asks, knocking lightly on Peter’s bedroom door before entering. “Hey, sweetheart.”

As usual, Peter is laying in his bed. He’s still in his pyjamas, even though it is past midday. He likes his pyjamas quite a lot, since they include a soft t-shirt and shorts. The shorts were one of the few items the Daddies didn’t have to cut and tailor to fit Peter’s stump. That is why he likes the shorts so much, because they are one of the few pants he has that haven’t been altered.

When Tony enters, Peter peeks up at him briefly, but quickly averts his gaze back to the episode of Gumball that he is watching. The air in the room is a bit thick and warm, so Tony goes to open the window to let in some fresh autumn air before sitting by Peter’s bedside. He makes sure not to touch the stump, just the boy’s upper arm.

“What are you watching?” Peter points to the screen without saying a word. “Oh, Gumball, right? I know you like that one. What are they up to?” Once again, no reply, not really. “Listen, baby... It’s a lovely day out, so how about you come with me and Daddy to pick up some hot chocolate from the café?”

At the mention of the hot chocolate, Peter looks at Tony again from the corner of his eye.

“Hot chocolate?”

“A big cup too, if you’d like.”

“But...” Peter trails of with a deep huff, already knowing what is coming next.

“Yes, you’ll have to wear your prosthetic. Just a lap around the house, bud, and then we can go out and you can sit in the car or come with us.”

Peter turns back to his show, clearly offended by the deal offered to him. Tony tries to keep his sigh inaudiable to Peter. He cannot lash out at the boy, no matter how frustrated he gets. This is all about Peter, not him. And so, Tony reminds himself of the role he has to play, and that is Peter’s biggest cheerleader and supporter.

“I know you can do it, bud. As hard as it is, I know you can do it. Daddy and I will be right there with you. Just a few steps, that is all I’m asking for.” Tony explains, keeping his tone uplifting.

“The’s no poin’.”

“What do you mean?”

“Cause... I’m never gonna walk. By myself.” Peter admits quietly.

“Oh, baby. It sounds like you’re afraid.”

“Am not... Just don’ wanna.”

“I know, I heard you, baby. This really does suck. But, this is the hard part that we and the doctors told you about. This is the real fight, the one where you get back up.”

“What if I don’t wanna? Huh? Just- just wanna be here.”

“Baby, if you lay here all day, the prosthetic won’t fit and-”

“Shud’ up!” Peter cries.

Tony closes his mouth promptly, and watches with sad eyes as Peter kicks his leg under the covers. The movement makes the iPad to tip over and the show pauses. In the sudden stillness of the room, Peter’s misery and pain swallows up the whole space. He starts off with a few whimpers, but they quickly turn into sobs. Moving the iPad aside, Tony goes to lay on the bed, spooning Peter from behind and holding him while he cries into his pillow. All Tony can do, is stroke Peter’s hair and whisper him small comforts, hoping they can at least take the edge of the mountain of pain that the boy is burdened with.

#my prompts #little!peter #daddy!stephen #daddy!tony #starkerstrange #starker #strangespider #ironstrange #tony stark x peter parker #tony stark x stephen strange #peter parker x stephen strange #peter parker #tony stark #stephen strange #ask

[mybeloved73]

My name is Chelsea and I’m a ITU Nurse.

I’m also a newly qualified nurse - I literally left Uni last year and began my job in the September.

My background - I didn’t always want to be a nurse. I wasn’t cut out for that sort of compassion or care. I dreamt of being a PT, an athlete, anything that was sports driven.

Until my boyfriend had a bike accident, that then left him in ITU. He later succumb to his injuries and passed away. The nurses looking after him, changed my life. Shining light kind of moment - I want to be just like them kind of thing.

Granted it took me 4 years to build up the courage, battling my PTSD, severe depression and anxiety to even apply to uni. But I did it - and Sept 2019 I got my Pin as a registered nurse.

Now, if you 1) think covid19 was made up, a conspiracy or the numbers have been made up as a scare tactic or 2) you actually believe wearing a face covering will cause ‘respiratory arrests’ ‘acidosis’ blah... stop reading. Because this isn’t for you. Or even 3) you have the view of ‘its their job’ - back away from your screen.

You’ve seen in the news about the public sector pay rise? That nurses aren’t included, nor the junior doctors, physio’s etc (I use etc as there are so many people being forgotten in all this and it is used lovingly and not to cause offence)? Honestly, Im so glad that others are being recognised for their input and help during this - the teachers who put in extra work for children of key workers, who sacrificed their home life to entertain little ones every day and try give them the education they need and deserve, to the police, military - anyone receiving this recognition. Honestly you deserve it. And the NHS will not shadow that or take it away from you.

We agree’d to a 3 year pay deal, that had the options of being reconsidered earlier than the final date if there was a change in circumstances. Covid19 should really be considered as a change in circumstances. I mean being told that you’re already ‘unskilled’ and watching people clap to STOP pay rises... was hard enough. But to have everyone else recognised for their vital contributions and lay something that was agreed in 2018 - is inexcusable.

You realise that most nurses didn’t get to see your claps on a Thursday? That’s handover time. And due to covid19 if their handover time was earlier - they were usually late because of how busy it was and still missed it.

I saw one. Because it so happened I had come off of nights the night prior.

So! My life during covid19 starts off with the busiest winter that my hospital has seen in ITU. We have 10 beds. We are funded for 7/8? We had to open an escalation centre that we stole from our day surgery unit to give us a further 3 beds.

Which in itself is hard - looking after seriously sick patients away from your actual designated and designed ward and without the continuous presence of doctors.

That wasn’t enough.

We had to then stole half of the recovery room, which usually houses patients post surgery whilst they wake up.

Going up to 16 patients. Remember - at this point. I’m THREE MONTHS qualified.

Learning is hard, steep, and in-depth. You’re suppose to be trained over the course of a year as a newly qualified, with study days and help from mentors etc. I couldn’t attend some of those days because we didn’t have the staff to look after the most patients our ITU had ever seen.

Now I know ITU is hard. I picked it.

I knew what it entailed, well partly.

I have to maintain my patients artificial airway. They either have a tube in their mouth or in their throat.

They’re then connected to a ventilator.

Every single setting on that machine, every button - changes something drastically.

From the fio2, PEEP, PS, PC, TV, MVE, PEAK, RR, PF ratio, ... one button, one alteration or mistake... literally can stop this person breathing. Cause respiratory distress, arrest.. trauma? anything.

Did you know I have to move that tube in their mouth every hour to stop pressure sores developing in their mouth? And I still have to brush their teeth and give oral care?

I have to suction down their throat and clear their lungs? Or suction their actual mouth for extra secretions?

And record all this data hourly.

To ensure that this patient is comfortable with this tube... I have to medicate this patient.

I have to keep them in an artificial coma.

Titrating the drugs to their optimum levels.

Some are measured mg/hr, mcg/hr, mcg/kg/min..

some have limits on maximum dose per hour you can use.

Some have really severe side effects.

Such as noradrenaline. Which can literally cause your fingers and toes to become necrotic.

I have to monitor someone’s glucose - whether you’re diabetic or not, and correct it if needed with insulin or dextrose.

I have to give diuretics but not allow your body to become too negative, I have to give fluid challenges to ensure you’re not vascular depleted.

I can help your kidneys with the use of a dialysis machine. Literally filter your blood of toxins your body can no longer remove without help of a machine. This requires constant blood tests to ensure that you aren’t collecting dangerous toxins or you need additional support from the machine.

I can use a machine to check your cardiac output and interpret it to make sure that you have enough fluid vs a drug that’ll help squeeze your heart instead.

I can read an ECG and tell if you need additional supplements such as potassium. Do further tests for magnesium, phosphates etc. And deliver those.

I can feed you through a tube down your nose, and ensure you absorb it. But it’s okay I can give you medication to also help that - these require me to do daily ECGs though, and interpret the data of your QTC to make sure it’s not affecting your heart.

Now. If that’s not enough. Covid happens.

Now remember our record was 16 patients?

Try doubling that.

We worked in our ITU,

Escalation centre

Recovery - we took the whole thing.

Next - we took over operating theatres.

3 patients in theatre 6

3 in 5

3 in 4

2 in 3

We stole theatre staff, recovery nurses, ODPS, ward nurses, retired nurses, health visitor nurses, anyone we could relocate to help us.

March - I’m 6 months qualified.

I’m now the most qualified ITU nurse in my theatre.

I have people who have never looked after a ventilated patients before asking me for help. Please don’t silence my alarm if you don’t know why it’s alarming. I know it’s loud and annoying but it’s telling me everything I need to know with enough time before I need to panic.

Now - covid patients weren’t just sick. Weren’t just needing help to breathe. These patients were all sorts of ‘new’. Nothing made sense!

These patients COULDNT be ventilated. We needed to paralyse them to literally be able to take over their breathing properly! No amount of sedation worked! Their lungs were fibrous and acting like elastic under tension.

Side note - if your patient wasn’t sedated enough compared to paralysis - they could be silently awake, but completely paralysed. Knowing everything happening to them. But unable to do anything - not even breathe. Every time you start rocuronium you need to remember that. If you’re withdrawing treatment - TURN THE ROC OFF FIRST. And wait before you do anything else.

Back to it. They were so unstable that you try roll them, which we usually do 4 hourly to prevent pressure sores - they desaturated to numbers so low that you would usually see some hypoxia brain injury after.

We couldn’t roll these patients without risking that. So you know what. You don’t roll.

So we couldn’t protect their skin integrity. You just watch them, and feel guilty.

Nursing school 101 - pressure sores are PREVENTABLE. Roll your patient. Skin care and hygiene is your best friend.

Now covid went against everything a nurse knows and holds dear.

Our ITU never had pressure sores. Until covid. Some had grade 4’s.

Maggot therapy.

Vacuum dressings.

These patients were also clotting, and sending off clots to their kidneys, liver, heart, brain. Covid made your blood super sticky!!!!

People were having strokes whilst being sedated, going from fit to multi organ failure in days. I’m trying to save these people, knowing they could possibly wake up with complete left side paralysis? Never talk again? Never be them again?

Now you know about these past medical histories etc?

You realise what that is?

that it could be Type 2 diabetes?

Hypertension?

That was it for some.

None of this thinking they were super sick, with lists longer than my arm, and that’s why they didn’t make it. No.

Literally things that happen with age. Poor diet? That 120/80 you’re happy you got - THATS PREHYPERTENSION.

I was probably hypertensive the entire time with anxiety.

Did you know We had to use the old anaesthetic ventilators. None of us had used those before. Those big bellows you see in films going up and down rhythmically. Those.

That was scary.

I’m use to a single touch screen button (hello modern technology) to deliver 100% o2 if my patient needs it. This has a switch to a bag, a button, dials to titrate o2 with normal air. And if I didn’t monitor the crystals in the bottom my patient would retain their own co2 and I wouldn’t know why.

New found love for anaesthetists and ODPS - these machines are NOT designed for prolonged use. But they helped us keep our patients alive. By literally guiding us and helping us look after the machines so we could do our job.

Now. All of this is made worse by PPE.

I’m hot.

It’s hot.

And intense and I’m working hard because tonight, I have 3 ventilated patients. By myself.

I have a gown on.

2 sets of gloves

An apron

An FFP3 mask

A hat

A visor

And no air con.

But I’ve got this. I can’t do my hourly checks because I am one person.

My super sick patients now have 2 hourly because it is physically impossible.

Where are the other staff?

Sick.

You’re watching these people struggle to breathe on machines and then being told your close friends at work, your mentors, your seniors are spiking temperatures. Some being admitted to hospital. Some not being able to come back to work for weeks.

Some ending up on your ventilators. It’s okay. I’ve got this.

I’m an ITU nurse right?

CPR wearing that get up. Is TOUGH. 27mins. I cried that day.

We lost 3 patients in 12 hours.

I held the hand of so many people as I turned off their ventilators because their families couldn’t be with them and no one should die alone. No one. I tried my best.. and then once my day had finished, I had to come home to my dad who is immunosuppressed. Who doesn’t understand boundaries. “Kevin stay in the other part of the house!”

*knocks on bedroom door with dinner*.

Proning. What an experience that is. And doing it Daily. The complications of that were scary before you even approach the patient.

So I’m going to flip my patient - who has a tube down their mouth to help breath, who is on medication for sedation, paralysis, to keep their blood pressure up.. from laying on their back - to laying on their front.

Seems easy?

Well it’s not. And requires like 8 people.

8 people.

We don’t have enough people as it is. So we now develop a proning team made up of everyone.

There are consultants, there are experts in their fields, there are physios and then I don’t know who else.

Honestly I couldn’t thank these people enough. More people would have died if we didn’t have a proning team. But now, people spent 23 hours laying on their front. Pressure sores on their faces. Potential of going blind? New complications of not being able to breathe we never expected.

We are finally back into one unit now. I’m still less than a year qualified. And I’m still running on adrenaline expecting this second wave. Those still reading, I know you’re thinking that she picked this job.

She knew what it meant.

And you’re right! Give me those complex drug calculations and ventilators. Oh and the scrubs!

But a pandemic? I didn’t pick that. The world didn’t pick that.

Honestly thank you, to the ward nurses - your lives got flipped upside down.

The physios who became best friends.

Consultants who literally got down and dirty with us.

To the domestics who cleaned furiously for us.

OT’s To literally orientate our patients when they’re waking up like 70 days later.

Every

Single

Person

Who

Helped.

Oh communication team made up of medical students, who updated the families because... I couldn’t. I couldn’t leave my patient. Not like this!

Matron who literally had to facilitate all this, with people who knew nothing about ITU. Being in ITU. Looking after ITU patients. Whilst her own ITU staff were sick, in hospital, or newly qualified, or working to the point they broke.

To the countless companies sending food, goodies, moral support !! Oh my god that was incredible to come to after not having a break for 6+ hours ... mmm... food!!

Did you know they’re offering support for the nurses to stop PTSD, or anxiety or just to help up digest what we saw? Psychological support for just doing your job?

But it’s okay.

We got a deal in 2018 for the pay.

We got clapped thursdays.

We all know that’s not enough, but we will still turn up for work.

We can’t leave our patients.

We can’t strike.

They’ll always mean more to us than pay. And the government knows that. Abuses that.

540 NHS staff lost their life doing ‘just their job’ - today the NHS staff walked through London protesting, to be heard. To be listened to. To be acknowledged. To be paid fair.

Sign the petition for us. Because we aren’t just here for covid. We’re here for life.

https://petition.parliament.uk/petitions/316307

And just put your mask on - please - for that hour you go shopping.

I’ve been wearing mine since March 6th. 13+ hour days. Developed a nice grade one on my nose, my friends faces bleeding from using a rubber respirator....

And We’ll be like this for the foreseeable future.

Now that we have the stocks to do so anyways.

Oh and I’m pissed my graduation was cancelled! All that and I don’t get to wear the hat and gown. Bastard virus. (I understand there was more lost but humour me).

Signed, your registered ITU nurse. We will always continue to monitor.

[actuallyvady]

I wasn't planning to be unemployed for as long as I've been (almost an entire year now with the exception of a job i held for two months but was terrified of something similar happening to me that caused me to leave my last job) and my partner has been so supportive and she really is amazing being the breadwinner. but we just can't afford to only have one income any longer. Plus I've been feeling guilty as HELL about it.

I've been hesitant to get back to work partly because dealing with antimaskers was a nightmare the short amount of time I have worked during this pandemic. and partly because I have really bad respiratory issues but now that I'm getting my second vaccine next week I don't have that as an excuse anymore.

I'm glad your family is so supportive and understanding. Thanks for letting me vent in your ask I feel like my friends (while non of them say it) think I'm being a giant baby about having to work another shitty job. because a lot of people work shitty jobs and just deal with it. but WHY. like why are we all so complacent in this hellscape we call society? we were not born for misery. and we absolutely weren't born to be yelled out over things out of our control. I really wanted to find a work from home job or at least a job I wasn't working with costumers but the only places hiring/calling me back based on my experience are costumer service jobs. and retail I think caused some of my worst anxiety issues and it certainly made my depression much worse. but here I am going back to it. like. the pandemic has been stressful but I've felt much better not being berated by people on a daily basis or doing work so soul crushing I feel like my brain is rotting.

I do plan to talk to my doctor and I really want to find a therapist but im having a hard time finding someone accepting clients or who specalizes in the shit I already should have been seeing a therapist for in the first place. im still young enough to be on my parents health insurance at the very least but thats another reason I had to get this job. I turn 26 next year. I feel like I've done nothing with my life. I don't want to die I don't think but I don't want to live like this.

I’m glad you have a supportive partner <3

I don’t think you’re being a baby about it, tbh I think you’re being realistic. It’s shitty as hell that people have to work, have to put up with the worst conditions just to keep themselves alive. Yes, a lot of people do put up with it, and maybe, in practical terms, you’ll have to tolerate it for a while as well... but it isn’t bad to recognize how shitty it is and to want to find another way.

I obviously don’t know any specifics about you or your situation so I can’t, like, offer specific advice, but-- if there is a kind of work you can picture yourself doing, perhaps working towards that as a goal can help ease the pain of your current situation? Like. Teach yourself new skills on your days off, when you have the capacity. Or take online classes, or try to find a community (a writing group, if you want to be a writer, that sort of thing). I talk about using distractions to keep myself from going under, but distractions are even more effective when they feel productive.

Retail is the actual worst and I hope you find a way to get out of it. I ended up stumbling into a manufacturing job, before the pandemic, and the simple fact that I never had to deal with customers made it the best “I have to work to survive” job I’ve ever had. (Not that manufacturing jobs are particularly great, but at least it wasn’t retail, you know?)

It’s funny, I find myself wanting to say things to you that are basically what I need to hear right now-- I’m 36 and I feel like I have done nothing with my life, and I don’t particularly want to die but I also don’t want to keep living like this. I don’t know if it will help you to hear, but my friends are always quick to assure me that even if I feel like I have contributed nothing, my presence in their lives is worthwhile, and I contribute simply by existing. So that’s what I will say to you: your existence, your life, and your presence in the lives of those around you is worthwhile. You exist, and therefore you have not done nothing; your existence makes the world better for the people around you. You do not need to earn your place. You are more than your job, more than your productivity, and the good you bring to the world by being you is more than enough.

#i feel like this comes of stupidly preachy #but it *is* what i need to hear sometimes #i don't know if you will believe me #Anonymous

[your-localghost]

When Do You Hit Rock Bottom?

inspiration only comes when im very very sad, here you go

CW: Cigarettes, Anxiety Attack (doesn’t go into detail), Self-esteem Issues and over all depression

Character(s): Micha, Maiden (mentioned)

Word Count: 1707

Once you hit rock bottom the only way to go is up. 

To him, it seemed like he was falling in a bottomless pit.

He never expected it to be easy, not really. Starting from the first day he saw his middle school classmates to the current day. If he has to be honest he can’t really find a difference between the two. His peers still look at him the same. They still have his name in their mouths as daily gossip. They avoid him just like they did years ago. 

He can’t say he’s lonely. He thinks it would be selfish of him to say that when he is on a call with his best friend daily. He has friends, of course they are his friends. That would be the one difference from years ago. He smiles as his friend tells another joke. He laughs when another joins in with some playful banter. He giggles as he adds his own snarky remark.

The words will never leave his mouth but he loves them. He loves all of his friends and he is thankful for them each passing day. And they try their best, he knows they try their best but it never truly feels like they understand. He is surrounded by friends, yet he feels alone. 

He holds his feelings close to himself, he never had an intention of sharing them until now. Never thought people would truly care enough about him to know. It feels strange to know people expect him to be so honest now after he was told countless times to never show his true self. People would dislike him if he did, abandon him in mere seconds. 

He knows his friends aren’t like that. He feels like he should guilty for thinking they would do that, he doesn’t.

It is always a matter of ‘should’ for him. He should know how to communicate, he should help out other people, he should stop taking notes, he should feel guilty. He never did, however. When he was once again sitting in front of his mother as she talked to him with sincere care and love in her voice, he had to repeat to rules to himself. He should talk, he should feel bad, he should…

“You should talk about your feelings,” She says. He doesn’t think before he speaks, makes an angry comment about her horrible parenting that he doesn’t particularly remember and storms off to his room. He sees his little sister on the way, she seems concerned. His door shuts with a loud thud as he loses the energy to keep himself up. He can’t remember what he said to his mom, he doesn’t remember why he got so angry when he knew she actually cared. He knows he hurt her. He should feel bad. He doesn’t. 

He feels like he is suffocating in his small room. The walls are too close, the light is too bright, the air is too hot. He feels the pain spread from behind his eyes to his forehead. His eyes are heavy and they sting when another tear rolls down his face. He can’t keep a coherent thought yet his head feels like it’s about to explode. 

He should be okay, he should be smiling, he should be happy. After years and years of living with the exact same thoughts, he has no idea how to deal with them. He doesn’t know why he got angry, he doesn’t know why he is currently falling apart, he doesn’t know why he isn’t happy. 

Others made it seem so easy. As if in a night’s miracle they changed from miserable to glowing. He knows people like that. People who got wronged by the world yet decided it was still good enough for them to decide to help them. He knows people with sadness yet kindness in their heart. He knows they made that choice to be a good human being despite life dragging them to the rock bottom. He should be like those people. He isn’t. 

He isn’t the sunshine after the storm, he isn’t the light at the end of the tunnel. He is a teenager who went through way too fucking much. It’s not pretty. It’s not flowers and drawings. It’s not poetry and photography. It’s worrying people will never truly care about him, it’s knowing he is the worst person alive, it’s knowing he doesn’t deserve any of his friends yet selfishly talking to them every single day. 

He is suffocating in his room, everything is too much in his house. He knows it’s cold outside, he knows his parents will be worried, he knows it’s dangerous. There is no good reason for him to leave his house and he should feel bad for being so careless. He doesn’t.

He leaves the house.

It’s cold but refreshing. There’s no blinding light or suffocating atmosphere. He can finally hear his own thoughts. They are telling him to go back to the house, so he ignores them completely. 

It feels weird to walk alone in the dark again. For the last few months, he always had someone with him to joke around with. They were still a bunch of teenagers of course and their guardians would be mad at them the next day. They never cared about that, though. Their only concern had always been the lack of cigarettes or an acceptable ID to buy them. 

He wants company. He needs company. But his thoughts are clawing at him again and he doesn’t want to bother them. Above all rumours, Micha knows he is a bad friend. He is toxic, he doesn’t think about his sentences and he hurts people to get a reaction out of them. He doesn’t deserve his friends. He doesn’t deserve company. He knows that in time, he will end up hurting them and make them regret ever saying ‘hello’ to him. Calling them and putting them in danger by offering to hang out is selfish, he shouldn’t do that.

He lights up a cigarette. He has gotten concerningly good at sneaking them out from his dad’s pockets when he isn’t paying attention. He doesn’t seem to notice a couple of cigarettes missing and Micha has no intention to stop anytime soon. It’s a bad habit but it isn’t the worst habit he has. In his mind, he knows it started because a friend offered to him one night. He can’t help but wonder if he picked up from his old best friend. 

He is painfully aware that he is exactly what she wanted him to be. Cold, aggressive, co-dependent, manipulative. He wonders what she would think of him. He wonders if she would take him in his arms again and tell him she cares, if she would listen carefully and understand why he is the way he is. He shouldn’t miss her, he knows she doesn’t care. 

Objectively, becoming her best friend would be the lowest point of his life. He was helpless, alone, scared. Yet it still seemed like he was truly understood during that time. She never told him that he ‘should’ or ‘shouldn’t’, she didn’t try to change him and always told him that she loved him no matter what he did. He felt loved, he felt understood, he felt happy. It was all manipulation. He is aware. 

He wouldn’t call it a rock bottom. It actually felt as if his life had changed for the worst when he cut off ties. He never felt understood, he never felt loved. He feels like he has to change for those things to happen and that makes him feel icky. A kind, optimistic, light-hearted version of him wouldn’t be him at all. There would be no honesty behind his actions, no one would love ‘him’ but the version of himself he created. He knew from experience. 

He never felt like he ever actually hit rock bottom in his life, he is sure it needs to happen at some point for him to finally have some hope in himself. Still, he fears for the day it might happen. He doesn’t know what would happen if he hit rock bottom. He was already mean, manipulative, toxic… He knows himself enough to know he wouldn’t be able to get up from rock bottom. He could barely make it through normal ups and downs. 

He shivers when another breeze hits him and he stops in his tracks. He was only wearing long-sleeves and a jacket. He knows he should make his way back home. He dreads it. He is going to be greeted by his mother and father worried about him. He is going to explain to his sister why he had to run away again. He will be back in his room, suffocating. 

It’s not his family’s fault. Well, not his close family anyways. They try their best in the short amount of time they’re home. They smile at him, they make jokes, they love him and he loves them back with all his heart. He still feels bitter when they have to leave for work. He knows they try hard to support him while he is going through tough times. He feels angry they weren’t there to prevent it in the first place. He wants to tell them. He wants to spill everything out so that they could try taking a step in the right direction. Sometimes he just wants to hug his mom and cry in her arms.  

He stops himself before any of that happens. There is still a barrier between him and other people. He knows that no matter how hard he or they try, they won’t understand. He wants people to care about him and not the mask he has on. He wants to be accepted as the toxic person he is instead of constantly being pushed to be someone he is not. He misses being hugged. He misses feeling understood. He misses being happy. He misses his best friend. 

She doesn’t miss her chance. His phone buzzes right as he is about to ring the bell. The light of his lock screen illuminates his face as he squints to read the notification. 

Maiden has sent you a message.

#i have no idea how to tag this dsgfhhjsd????? #writblr #writing #teen writer #original character #original characters #one shot #writer #OC: micha novak #OC: Maiden #i swear i love micha he just. has to suffer.

[blazingpheonixo]

okay, so were getting personal here,

This March will be coming up to my Dad's 3 year deathaversary. It wasnt expected, he was only 38. He drowned, and his death is acually still under investigation. That's probably the first close death i had. Anyway, it caused a lot of problems in my family. Including my mum moving her and my sister an hour and a half away from me. That and i dont hear from dads side of the family anymore. so thats super shit. When this happened i Also lost my best friend at the time Georgia. She went off at my boyfriend Kenedy because he didnt want to come to the funeral and caused some issues. anyways I forgot to mention when he died i was in rockhampton. which was even more shit. but anyway, when i came back. I didnt hear from my best friend at all, i went to the funeral. still hadnt heard from her. She full went off at my partner cause he didnt wanna come to the funeral but yeah a week had past since coming back and she knew i was back. Sent her a message and said hey whats going on, you went off at him made a big deal but i havent heard from you. and pretty much she responded with telling me that i was a shit friend and It was mean to message her like that and then she blocked me on everything. So yeah I lost my father and my best friend in the same week. I still dont know wtf happened which just comes up in my brain a lot.

And then theres my ex, Kenedy. I think i said already that we were together for nearly 6 years. We broke up over a stupid photo at the end of July so its been 4 months. For starters we were engaged and we were about to start trying for a kid. But it was such a toxic and unhealthy relationship dude. Like fuck.. We used to get into fights and ill just be straight up, it got physical. Id end up covered in bruised and cuts and it was pretty bad tbh. Holes in walls. Broken bits. I never ended up in hospital because of it but like it was still pretty bad. This probably only happened the last two years of the relationship. I grew up watching my mum be abused, i know that it isn't the norm and what ever but i guess i was kind of use to it in a way? so i think thats why i put up with it? idk. That or my mental issues lol. But yeah so, I'm still kind of getting past that bit, I have photos that come up in my memories which trigger me and sometimes I get panic attacks randomly. Its shit. It wasn's always physical.

Then we come to my ex best friend, Rhianne. I literally grew up with her, but we never used to be friends, we just went all through school together. She also used to be my bully in kinder and prep LOL.

Anyway, we started being friends when i first moved into this place so maybe a year and a half? shes toxic to haha. We had a good friendship at the start but the more i hung out with her the more i began to feel like shit about myself. I don't have friends. She was pretty much all i had. So i kind of let a lot of stuff slide and i never really stood up for myself. and i mean a lot of things i let slide. She got really obsessive towards me. I honestly think she is infatuated with me. She would rock up here pretty much daily and use me for my stuff and makeup and clothes and then wed go for drives and stuff. idk we used to do everything together. Not because i wanted to either. Pretty much what she said was the go. She would talk down to me as if i was a child. Im the kind of person as well that i like my alone time, i dont like going out all the time i like to sit in and enjoy my own company, I dont like hanging out EVERYDAY with someone. She use to talk shit about me behind my back as well. just cause so much drama and eh. But she was so fkn obsessive. Then when kenedy and i broke up, her friend was having there birthday at the clubhouse, so thats house i was introduced to the club. She took me a long and told me to take someone home to help myself feel better about the breakup. SO anyway, Shaun was there and we were getting to know each other.

She caused a big scene and didnt want me to take him home. I think it was jealousy. Got to the point were she had me in tears.

I then for some weird reason logged into my exes account, I found messages telling people how much he hates me and wants me to kill myself and wants to fuck Rhianne. Then i showed her all of this. She was grossed out and deleted him. We then had a small fight because i stood up for myself one night. Why we wernt talking she went out clubbing and Kenedy was out. So she party'd with my ex as well as invited him and had him come back to her dads place. Nothing happened to my knowledge but I mean, Im sure they fucked.

Anyway, (I have depression and anxiety. When kenedy and i broke up, i didnt handle it well, I started self harming and it was getting pretty bad) I took shaun home from the clubhouse that night and pretty much his been here ever since, so 3 months we've been together now. I’m not sure if I love him or not. I don’t know because my brain is scattered at the moment. Because of everything hoing on. His a lovely guy, but his not for me. But the way my brain works and how im coping with all these things, i just can't be alone dude. I literally get so depressed and its scary because i don't want to give myself the chance because when im alone like i am tonight. All of this just goes through my brain and i get so fucked up, i don't even know if you wanna hear about self harm and abuse. but it happens. TBH im probably going to end up hurting myself tonight. I wasnt joking to you when i said i wanted to drive my car into a truck. i literally feel like that.

So what actually made Rhianne and i stop being friends. Her, Shaun and myself were drinking at her friends. Shaun has epilepsy and actually had a seizure in front of me the previous day, Rhianne got into him and told him it was his fault and that i should never have had to of seen that. I didnt go off at her, HER friend kicked her out and told her sleep in her car. Since then she has tried to constantly break us up.

On top of that, im in a lot of debt. and it got to the point were i actually made a Onlyfans account and it actually helped. I feel gross about it but it was private no one i knew in real life had access. OR SO I THOUGHT. i used tumblr to get my subscribers, didnt realise my ex Kenedy had access. He sent screenshots to Rhianne and she sent them to pretty much everyone i know. Ive lost a few friends becuase of it. and well yeah it was degrading. She then apologised and i forgave her for like a whole 6 hours. Until i really thought about it. Just cause we were in a small argument i wouldnt do that to her you know or anyone. so i told her that. and shes been super nasty since.

She is also still talking with my ex.

So yeah, I also might have breast cancer 😣

These are most the reasons I want to die.

#depression #depressed #life #anxiety #anxious #help #suicidal #abuse #ex #friends #heartbreak #broken #lost #help me

[queenlokibeth]

I know this has been an awful year overall but i've got to say that being by me myself and i alone with my thoughts for 6 months or so... was actually a positive thing.

At one point i of course felt my mental health absolutely decline. Regardless of the cocktail of mental issues that i've had for as long as I can remember, I'd never experienced more than one or two symptoms of depression, but halfway through the summer, I did plenty more. I can only describe what happened there for a bit as a bout of depression. And no, it wasn't that I was "sad", it was that suddenly time wasn't real and i'd go an entire day having gone to the bathroom and eaten once and literally nothing else (not exaggerating, i'd sit down on the couch and suddenlt it was night time and i genuinely did nothing).

It was awful, and not at all what I needed in my life OBVIOUSLY. I was already on a petty roll of making my mental health my bitch, starting with my anxiety. I added this to the list. I don't know HOW because I don't have a recipe for this, but through a mixture of forcefully trying to get my shit together (not a linear process ehem) by sleeping right, eating right, trying to go into the sun a bit (no this wasn't a movie montage in which everything was fine it would take me 5 days to finally manage to go into the street and it took me a month since making this active choice to will myself to do laundry and i only managed to start getting dressed out of my pjs daily in the last week of summer holidays) and there was a whole lot of introspection and just really pulling myself apart and analysing WHY this was happening (as in 'what unresolved trauma' or 'what behaviours has my brain ingrained in itself' or 'why is xyz triggering' or 'what is the purpose of xyz behaviour') but i FINALLY got my shit together/fixed things.

I had really focused on my anxiety, it was so bad and the changes brought on by the pandemic made it worse. But i had time. I had MONTHS. First time in my life that i could actually focus on fixing my anxiety. Then somehow i brought my relationship with food into this, self esteem issues, this deppressive episode, but I sort of pushed what i'd been suspecting to be ADD for a couple years to the back burner bc i just didn't know how to deal with that. And somehow. At last. I'm okay.

Of course i'm not perfect and there are things that i still need to work on, but i've just started school and for the first time in YEARS, literally since i was a child, a toddler maybe, i'm fine.

My anxiety is 80% better (i've been able to do new things with only a little bit of second guessing and my conscious decision wins over the irrational anxiety, i've been able to make PHONECALLS!!! As recently as 5 months ago i had a meltdown over having to make a phonecall and now i'm fine!!!), i have... the most normal relationship with food EVER since i was 13, i somewhat fixed my sleeping schedule (work in progress), no depressive emptiness/lack of "energy" (ik energy isnt the right word there but idk how to describe it it's like the will to exist), and even this weird ADD situation that had plagued me for the past two years is GONE.

I'm on top of my assignments, I haven't procrastinated, i've finished them at a reasonable time of night, i'm able to go over content before class I CANNOT RECOGNISE MYSELF OKAY IM THE CLOSEST TO A FUNCTIONING NEUROTYPICAL PERSON IVE EVER BEEN (still like a continent away but this still works and i know im never GOING to be neurotypical but it's nice to NOT BE A HOSTAGE OF MY MESSY BRAIN)

Anyways that's the story of how I used lockdown to make my brain my bitch and somehow succeeded.

#guys i think this is what thriving feels like #gpoy #mine #it's the first time since i was a kid that i WANT to be alive and exist #for the longest time it was just 'yup im here and thats fine and im just vibing but im also not really feeling it' #wild

[coridallasmultipass]

Vent / personal / tmi / menstruation / endometriosis / long post ... Im so fucking sick of healthcare professionals telling me to just wait it out and pushing my problems onto other doctors I just got my 5th shot of lupron and have 1 more next month. On my appointment last week i told the gyn how ive been having much more cramping and tissue but not blood coming out regularly and he said its possible the combined lupron and norethindrone are making my uterine lining too thin, and to stop the norethindrone (it was being prescribed to help any menopause-like side effects the lupron can have) And less than 24 hours after my first missed dose i get a full blown period complete with extreme mood swings and depression Im not bleeding this week but im still cramping and the mood swings are so fucking bad, being chronically ill and not getting enough relief from any of my medications is making all of this worse but im literally breaking down over any little thing The lupron and norethindrone combined i guess have been suppressing all my emotions bc this is what it was like on the daily before i started it (just not as bad) which is telling me that none of my psych meds are working but whatever I just now got off the phone with my psych and he said he doesnt want to do anything with my meds or dosing bc he says its related to hormones and thats what my gyn needs to address and i Need To Wait im fucking sick of waiting i cant do this ive been waiting since last august!!!!!!! I now have to wait 2 more whole months of mood swings until i can have another appointment with him hes refused to actually screen me for adhd too and says its bc im An Artist type that im not able to sit down and draw anything since last fall like i fucking hate him and he never gets my name or pronouns right and i cant go see a new psych bc of all the closures and i dont wanna call my gyn bc he said if things get worse i need to have a pelvic ultrasound done again and i cant do it!!! I fucking cant do it it hurts too much im too traumatized from depoprovera and mirena that i cant even touch myself without extreme dysphoria and fear that im going to cramp Its killing me that as someone who was so personally sexual to completely be traumatized from the road to an endometriosis diagnosis that i can no longer masturbate or even talk about sex without anxiety and being trans on top of it hurts even more Next gyn appt is my last injection of lupron and im really gonna push to plan for a partial hysterectomy (i only had endo cysts on the back of my uterus but it was 100% confirmed with surgery and biopsy) so i hope it will help so i can stop taking all these fucking hormonal medications like Before being diagnosed i was really planning on going on testosterone but now im too scared because i feel like it would really fuck up my health problems more - mentally and physically Ive given up on passing and am trying to focus on body acceptance especially now that ove had rapid weight gain that isnt being addressed by any of ky doctors i bring it up to God im just trying to vent here but seriously Do not take the diagnosis of endometriosis lightly its super serious to go forth with any treatments and you really have to commit to long term treatments and its a gamble either way For me not starting any treatments was unacceptable i needed help with extreme monthly periods and all forms of birth control ive tried exacerbated symptoms and never stopped bleeding - i literally cannot personally recommend any form of medical birth control bc every one has fucked me over, many different pills at different points in my life, shot (depoprovera gave me debilitating cramps and i bled non stop all 3 months which started this whole journey to diagnosis), iud (iud was the worst i had to go to the er bc the gyn refused to give me pain meds and i was screaming in pain a few hours later unBle to move or think - i really cannot stress enough how painful and long insertion is like it was the longest 5-10 minutes of my life crying while it felt like a knife going through me) I really dont want that ultrasound tho ffs i had to get the first one done while i was in full force cramps during my depoprovera shot and the pelvic ultrasound rod is humongous and they dig it around inside you (i already had a painful and hard time trying to have pleasurable penetration even by myself or with partners) and it takes like 40 minutes of jumbling around your insides for them to document every thing like at least at that time i was only like 2 months from my last time jerking off but now its been almost 6 months of me not even thinking about putting more than one finger in to clean myself in the shower like to go right into an huge ultrasound is going to be so painful and anxiety inducing and i cant do it id rather go straight into surgery My biggest phobias have to do with pain around this part of my anatomy i cannot stress enough how long ive wanted a hysterectomy just so i dont have to fear accidentally getting p r e g... like i would literally kms... i would probably be able to handle the pain of cutting off my arm with a rusty knife better than extreme cramping pain like i had with the iud or ultrasound its such a phobia and now its source of trauma for me from everything ive gone through the last 6 months Having to readjust my life goals from doing p o r n as a hobby and wanting to transition and be who i am, to becoming a vegetable and trying to cope with the fact that i cant ever transition how i hoped Everything just really sucks for me right now and i have literally no social life any more, not even online bc im so stressed about my health and my attention is so bad i cant focus on a convo online, my laptop is about at its grave so all i have is a phone and xbox with bare minimum internet speed.. i live in the middle of nowhere and cant get my license bc the person who was guiding me to drive is an essential worker in a hospital so i cant go in their car any more... im just so fucking alone i cant do anything except break my back gardening and then cry about it later bc my fucking meds dont fucking work!!!!!!!!! Oh thats another thing im also dealing with fucking gerd on top of all this and i cant get the proceedure i need done to confirm if i need surgery or not bc the fucking lockdown!!!! So im stuck taking pantoprazole (been trying similar meds since march 2019 and its currently june 2020!!!!!!) I just want to eat tomatoes and chocolate again it fucking kills me if i dont take pantoprazole i will lose my voice and have such a sore throat and ears from the stomach acid and i know im gonna have to stop it for 2 weeks for one of the tests i need done and its going to be literal hell like it feels worse than strep throat ill probably do the thing where i start choking and coughing at night bc it gets so bad Im a fucking mess like why couldnt all of this happen one at a time I really want to get my belly pierced again bc i feel so naked without it but i cant bc i probably will be having 2 surgeries once covid blows over (if it ever does) Sorry for taking up so much dash space im just really hurting and need some outlet bc therapy isnt helping rn

#personal / #vent #long post #endometriosis #mental illness #menstruation #tmi #i need to stop crying but i cant lmaO #fuck endometriosis #literally a life ruiner #like i was already having a hard time before it but now i have zero hope for the future

[scripttorture]

Hi Im currently writing a story set in a sci-fi/noir-ish city focusing on police the police force. One of my side characters (who is extremely important to the later 1/2 of the plot) was tortured at the age of 15 by the police for being assumed to be part of a trade union. Whilst Im writing them as primarily dealing in clean tortures at the present time- when she was tortured the police were esentially the armed enforcement of the company monopoly that ran the town. i was thinking that they 1/

Scifi/noiranon 2/ they used escentially finger milking (one of the torturersfishes recreationally- they use fishing wire) combined with beatingand stress postions and as a result she loses several fingers/ bitsof her fingers- which she hides with gloves containing simpleprosthetics. She experiences chronic anxiety, depression anddificulties with sleeping and memory. Despite being in her mid 20sshe lives with her parents and relies on them for daily support.However 2/Scifi-noiranon 3/ however she later joins the police with the intention ofgathering evidence and exposing remaining abuses of power. (Context:the police have been nationalised but not all officers who engaged intoture have been removed- and she knows the head of police knowsthis). She also knows that external whistleblowers are rarelylistened to- so she sees this as the best way to get the evidence andauthority necersary to remove torturers from the police. Does thissound like a 3/ Scifi /noir anon 4/ Does this sound like a realistic backstory/situation? Ive tried to take into account the amount of anger shewould feel and the way this kind of situation might play out(thankyou so much for this blog by the way- ots where im finding allmy resources!) but i just donnt know if a torture survivor would everjoin the organisation in question- even if its to bring it down fromthe inside.

-

I definitely think this is possible, especially since you’re taking the time to explain why the character is doing this and she seems conflicted about this. She’s taken a lot of time to think about this and you’ve taken a lot of time to think about how to show that process. That’s good.

 You’ve also shown that the organisation itself has changed. Not enough, and the survivor clearly still sees the police as a problem, but that change is still important. It shows that she’s not responding instinctually and it reduces any suggestion that she’s on the torturers’ ‘side’.

 Because she’s thought about this and waited until the organisation has changed enough that her contribution could make a difference.

 I do think this would be a very difficult thing for a survivor to do.

 She might come across a whole range of reminders in a normal working day. The uniforms, the lighting, the smell in the station. And she might be able to change some of those things (ie different air freshner) but she wouldn’t be able to control all of them.

 She might find her anxiety is triggered more often and have problems managing it. And if she miscalculates how difficult this job would be then she might have a rather steep learning curve with regards to managing her symptoms.

 She might also go through phases of being- shunted around different areas of work because of her mental health problems. This isn’t necessarily a ‘bad’ management strategy or intended as a punishment. It’s something that can happen in a workplace when managers are concerned for an employee’s mental or physical health, they get moved about to less stressful or less dangerous positions.

 And that could work to her advantage. For instance if she’s transferred to the records department for a couple of months it could give her more access to the kind of information she’s looking for. Moving between different sections of the police could also allow her to forge connections with more people in the organisation. Those friendships and connections would make it easier to build up a case against torturers. Partly because it gives her a broader pool of informants and partly because it gives her access to a wider range of expertise/potential helpers.

 Honestly I think this is a really well thought out solid scenario. You’ve got a character who is doing difficult, but not impossible, things. And the entire scenario has a lot of narrative potential.

 The only other thing I can really think of is how the character is going to deal with the increased stress. And my first thought is the way so many torture survivors have used art as an outlet.

 If you haven’t already I’d recommend looking up the work of Ronald Searle.

 Searle drew his experiences as a Japanese prisoner of war, a series that’s collected in the book To the Kwai and Back with many of the individual drawings online. After the war Searle created the St Trinians comic series about a uh- violent, crime ridden girl’s boarding school.

 St Trinians is (in my opinion) still pretty funny. It’s in a lovely, cartoony style that almost seems to celebrate the ugliness of some of the characters. And if you look at it beside Searle’s war drawings it’s frighteningly easy to see where he got his inspiration from.

 The ways survivors find to process and even laugh at their experiences are important. If you’re putting your character in such a stressful, difficult situation then I think it’s important to show the joy in her life too.

 This kind of direct, meaningful action does seem to be attractive to survivors and it comes with a higher risk of burning out. So showing positives and how she’s taking care of herself will help balance out her narrative.

 It’s clear you’ve thought about all this. Your character seems like a detailed, well rounded person. I think getting a beta reader would help reassure you that you’ve struck the right balance between showing the character’s symptoms, her pain and showing her getting on with and enjoying life.

 I hope that helps. :)

Availableon Wordpress.

Disclaimer

#Anonymous #writing advice #tw torture #tw police brutality #sci fi ask #writing victims #writing recovery #triggers #mental health #activism #torture of political activists

[fairycosmos]

Honestly... I hate New Years. All I see on tumblr lately is abt how 2020 is gonna be the best year for everyone. I hate it bc I put so much pressure on getting my life together bc it’s the start of a fresh new year and it never seems to happen. If I don’t get happy with life by end of January I have no hope and might as well just wait till next year to work on myself while everyone around me is living their best New Years life and I feel like I’m not capable of complete happiness😖 help:(

hey man. i hear exactly where you're coming from. feeling this sort of pressure is super common, especially among young people like you're not alone. but the more we ascribe meaning to arbitrary dates, the more we punish ourselves for not meeting made up deadlines - the more we prevent ourselves from growing naturally and at our own pace. which is infinitely healthier, and will lead to a much more substantial form of satisfaction eventually, even if that's hard to believe right now. i know we're all raised from the moment we're born to believe that our life trajectory has to look like this: school, college, love, great job, etc. in order to be successful human beings. but you know they just make us feel that way to manipulate us into breaking our backs every day to prove ourselves through labor and submission. in reality, there is no standard or price you need to pay for existing. there is no linear flow of constant growth and stability and fruitfulness. that's not a personal failure, it's got nothing to do with you. all there really is, is the present moment and what we choose to do with what we can control. that's it. you could choose the middle of January to try again, if you wanted to. time is GENUINELY fake and the illusion of a new year is nothing more than a moment that will come and go, like it always does. you don't have to have 2020 planned down to a T, you don't even have to have half of the answers at this point. you just have to try your best to stop crucifying yourself for asking the questions in the first place, cause it's not a crime. it's natural to worry and to want to do well, but it's important to take a step back and really look at what you're asking of yourself and where your beliefs about who you are/your future come from. when we've been through a lot of pain we're inclined to believe that more is coming our way, we're always on alert and anticipating it, but the truth is that you're honestly not doomed. you're just scared, and comparing yourself to people who don't really have a clue about anything either, even if it seems as though they do. literally everyone is a walking highlight reel, you only see what they want you to see. at the same time, everyone's just trying their best, and that's all you can ask of yourself, too. it's more than enough. even if some days your 'best' is just finding the energy to shower. regardless of all of the extra bullshit, you're having a human experience and you're experiencing this inexplicable lifetime for what it is. it is not going to feel the way it does in this moment, forever. change is guaranteed and it's always occuring, even in tiny subconscious ways. you're becoming someone new all the time. look maybe there is no utopia where happiness is constant and everything is resolved, but it is very very possible for happiness to become a consistent theme in your life. in fact id say it's inevitable. especially if you actively begin to identify and seek what you need, no matter what your brain screams at you. you're doing much better than you think you are love. new years won't take that fact away.

im aware that words pale in comparison to the actual depression and anxiety caused by feeling so inadequate. so if you've been carrying this for a while i really would urge you to talk to someone about it if you haven't already, and if it's possible. like i said before, it's honestly really common to get stuck in this sort of mindset, and people understand more than you realize. there's so much that can be done to make your perspective feel wider and lighter. it'll come at the cost of vulnerability, but it's worth it. whether you talk to a family member of friend, or something more official like your doctor/a support group/a hotline, admitting to what's going on in your head will always be more beneficial than staying silent. even if you have to force the words out. im not saying that it's an all encompassing solution, but understanding how to implement healthy coping mechanisms into your daily routine, and being honest with your support system (even just one person) can make a huge difference over time. to me it seems it's not about stopping the future from happening, or trying to avoid getting hurt, because those things are inevitable. but being prepared for that, and knowing you're fully capable of surviving it and using it to grow, is pretty revolutionary when it comes to how you perceive yourself. i really think you're going to live the solution to many of your worries just with the natural progression of your life, but until then don't be afraid to use the present moment (the only thing that's truly real) to reach out. it's a scary idea until you do it. fuck calenders and expectations and these vague notions that have been imposed on us for no reason. we're just living, and we don't have to feel guilty for it.... anyway this got long, but you get what im saying. i believe in you n i relate to what you're dealing with. if you need a friend or if you want to talk about it, i'll be here 💌 take it easy.

#anon

[bigskydreaming]

fhalkfhaklfhlkak i hate this

TW really truly literally ruined the word ‘spark’ for me. Like the whole damn word. I hear it now and I’m like, NOPE, like...idk, some people who cringe when they hear the word moist or panties. Apologies to anyone who hates those words and cringed, i dont actually know if thats a thing or if like, I just have weird friends. Probably just the latter.

But anyways, Im just like...lmfao. Its so visceral too? Like I have this one original project, Waveriders, that I’ve been fiddling with off and on in the background of other projects for awhile, might have talked about it on here, idk, I don’t keep track. 

Basically its a far future sci-fi novel/setting for linked shorter works set on a gas giant that was settled by humans who figured that they can’t possibly be stepping on anyone’s toes there, its a freaking gas giant, hello, no one’s home, right? They literally have to make their own ground by using technology to form anti-gravity wells in the habitable zone of the atmosphere and like, make floating cities and then these kind of buoys scattered across the planet that create these electromagnetic currents that flow in specific ‘routes’ between the cities, and people travel between them in these flying ships that use magnetized hulls and solar sails to ride these currents, and blah blah blah, yada yada yada, bc like, why would I resist an opportunity to have floating cities and sky pirates and ancient cyborg machine dragons? Doesn’t make sense. 

Anyway, so couple thousand years after settling this planet, and by then for Plotty Reasons there are people who have what’s called waveriding abilities, like they can ‘hack’ certain wavelengths or types of energy and manipulate them in various ways, but only one kind of energy per person, and they each have their own little names and niches. 

So, y’know, basically just like ATLA, except for like, its energy powers and there are cyborg machine dragons and floating cities and sky pirates, obvsly. Plus areas of totally fucked up gravity called the badlands that are all like, criminal underworld metropolis because normal people are like lol nope, we like it when up is up and down is down, all of this is very just...nope. And also because shocking and totally unexpected plot twist, they were totally wrong about the planet being uninhabited just cuz it didn’t have Earth type ground...like, so in addition and on top of and in conjunction with all of the above and whatnot, there are these beings called Chaos Angels, that are basically like sentient quantum waveforms that can take any shape or appearance, but just, have no physical substance and yet are really good at faking that they’re not totally there when they fuck with humans, which they do a lot, because well. Why not, y’know?

But other than that, its exactly like ATLA. I’m a derivative hack. I disgust myself, truly I do.

BUT the point of this particular synaptic misfire aka ADHD ramble, is that so, okay, these different types of not!benders are all called waveriders as an overall umbrella term, but with ten different subsets of this in total, right? So people who can ‘hack’ light and manipulate it in various ways are called brightriders, and people who are tuned into soundwaves are called echo-riders, and some can manipulate the more electricity-skewed side of the electromagnetic spectrum and those are shockriders and the ones who skew more to the magnetic side are steelriders but I’m probably gonna change that because it sounds like a porno? Yeah no, just saw it outside of my notes for the first time and can confirm, definitely sounds like a porno so they’re not gonna be called steel-riders, but they will be called something steel-rider-esque. You get it.

And then there are the five weird ones that people aren’t totally quite sure how their waveriding shticks work because the kinds of energy they hack aren’t like....the kinds that work in the same way as the others with their easily discernible and patternistic wavelengths, and scientists and scholars are always arguing like but skyriders aren’t even in the same FIELD as the other waverider types because gravity isn’t even an actual ENERGY, just because we talk about gravity waves doesn’t mean they’re remotely the same thing as lightwaves, they make no SENSE, and I’m just like hahaha, I am your god, fictional scientists. Fucking deal with it. Plus it does make sense, you just don’t know the Secret Rules and Logistics that I do, pfft. 

Anyway, so the other types are boomriders who hack kinetic energy and skyriders of course obviously manipulate gravity, and then the last three are really weird, and super rare and thus don’t really have set names and just have lots of nicknames and are often just thought to be rumors. So those are the bio-riders who manipulate chemical energy though it often gets mistakenly referred to or just handwaved as being ‘life energy’ as though that’s a thing, ugh future way advanced people are so dumb sometimes, honestly. But so they can manipulate biological processes in various ways and do things with healing and also hurting, and basically just don’t piss one off ever. Like. You’ll die. And then there’s the psi-riders, who are essentially psychics and hack brainwaves, and I’m not at all bitter that I lack the balls to just go for broke and call them ghost riders like I want to, because ghost riders obviously sounds way cooler?? But also, Marvel would definitely sue?? Because they’re just, like that. 

And like, the last of the Weird Ones are the ones so super rare and also so hard to actually....tell if someone actually IS one, that most people think they don’t actually even exist and are just an unsubstantiated like, theoretical idea some scientist had once while high and then just, never shut up about so eventually the idea caught on. And those are the quantum-riders, or luck-riders, basically they theoretically manipulate quantum wavelengths in ways that are almost impossible to identify, like theoretically they wouldn’t even know they were doing it? Anyway, so lots of times, what are actually quantum-riders are just jealously thought to be like, really fucking lucky assholes. Even though the way their powers work really don’t have anything to do with luck or even probability, specifically, like that’s a simplistic approximation and its more like they manipulate possibilities but also shut up me, nobody cares.

ANYWAY, people who can count and who actually bothered to would probably notice by now like the funky little geniuses they are that all of those still only adds up to nine. And that’s because of the last one, the one that SHOULD go up in the brightrider, shockrider, notpornIswear!steel-rider hierarchy or taxidermy or whatever the fuck. And these are the ones who manipulate what’s essentially thermal energy, or more accurately the microwave-skewing side of the ultraviolet spectrum whereas brightriders are just the ones who skew more to the infrared side of it.

And the long and short of all of this Unnecessary-ness and the source of my fit of pique and ensuing ramble-palooza....is that ORIGINALLY, they were SUPPOSED to be called sparkriders.

But OBVIOUSLY I can’t call them that anymore, because like. I tried, and I was like ugh you drama queen slash whiny pissbaby, it was just a shitty teen supernatural show and SPARK WAS NEVER EVEN CANON, do not let THEM win and ruin a perfectly good classification name! But I did. I did let it ruin them, and its. Well. Its a problem, because I kept thinking up ways to kill off the sparkrider characters for absolutely no reason at all instead of like....thinking up ways to make the plot do what it was outlined to do in their parts of the story.

This may come like, way out of left field, and just SHOCK and STUN and BEWILDER some of you, like....no way, srsly? But yeah, true story, among my many canon mental neuroses like ADHD, PTSD, magical depression hour and super fun anxiety like....there is a tiny possibility (aka actual diagnosis) that while I don’t talk about this much, or ever really, I do have a smidge of ye old OCD? Its not like, a big thing and doesn’t really affect my daily routines and that’s pretty much why I never usually bring it up or list it alongside the rest of the crap on my neurodivergence resumé or whatever, because like, there’s already WAY too many misconceptions out there about what OCD actually is and what constitutes it, and tons of people are always jokingly but also thinking they’re kinda half serious, like ‘oh I’m so OCD about this and this and that’ and its like. LOL. Are you though? You sure?

Anyway, but point being, the way mine manifests for me is like...not actually a problem? Like, I don’t actually have any REAL complaints about it at all, just half-assed little fits of pique ones like this, which is the other part of why I never bring it up, because too often ppl just can’t fathom that OCD or even any kind of neurodivergence can be...WANTED, or a good thing, and lololol, that’s ableism, folks. But its true, I don’t actually mind mine at all, even if it occasionally makes things frustrating, when I get stuck like I am now. But the flip side of it is....its actually a pretty huge part of my creativity and just the way my mind works in general....like, what people accredit to me being particularly insightful about character analysis or drawing connections or stuff like that in meta or fics or my novels or worldbuilding...that’s what it is. That’s my OCD in action. 

My brain like...REQUIRES that I find patterns in....pretty much everything. Even day to day mundane stuff too, though like I said, its mild enough there that it doesn’t fuck with my routines too much, but like, I have to order things into nice, neat patterns and groupings. And if there aren’t any that are immediately obvious, I kinda pretty much HAVE to dig deeper until I find some on a slightly deeper level, something beneath the surface or first glance, and keep going until I find something.....or worst case scenario, I have to like....add stuff and embellish and fill in gaps with my own ‘content’ until I have the rough edges rounded off into something that CAN be stacked neatly atop some other part of the story or whatever it is I’m focusing on? And the obsessive-compulsive part for me is like, lol, I gotta find it SOMEWHERE, SOMEHOW. 

My brain literally won’t shut off or grudgingly accept being diverted to a different subject until I’ve made some kind of pattern or flowchart or classification system. It will literally keep me up for hours, going over the same things over and over from every angle until I find SOME way to....reassemble or restructure it in some nice, neat little order of some type. I mean that’s basically what it is. My brain insists on me forming some semblance of order out of any glimpse I have of what I would otherwise term creative chaos. And it won’t give up until it gets what it wants, which when you throw in my ADHD and how often I’ll get derailed off on slight tangents but with my OCD then sooner or later forcing me back to the original focus, rinse and repeat ad nauseam....like. LOL. I learned to operate on very little sleep from a pretty young age by necessity, its just...my brain, dudes. Its just like that.

But the perks are like, I pretty much think this is WHY I’m so creative....because my brain, for as long as I can remember, has always just kinda....forced me to be? Also probably has a lot to do with well...eh, I don’t need to talk about that right now. Whatever. Anyway, point being, so....I do like the end results very much so, and for all its....Why Must You Be Like This eccentricities, I’m quite attached to my brain and would not be very likely to agree to a trade even were one possible. I mean don’t get me wrong, I could do without the PTSD and anxiety, if we’re just, like....talking some pruning shears or whatever, but the actual creative machinery, I’m keeping. Ultimately it just means I really fucking like patterns and finding patterns or making patterns where previously there were none, or at least none that were easy to spot.

But ugh, man, these are the rare times when I’m like omg, just call it a day, we don’t ACTUALLY have to come up with the perfect replacement name for that one relatively small and insignificant detail of a much larger story that isn’t even in the Top Ten list of my main priorities at the moment. And my asshole of a brain is just like....yeah no, we gotta. You know the rules dude, you decided it was official, that name didn’t work anymore and was never gonna, so now we gotta find a replacement or else things will be UNEVEN?? The pattern will be...missing a piece? There will be CHAOS AND ANARCHY IN THE STREETS THAT RUNNETH OVER WITH BLOOD? IS THAT WHAT YOU WANT??

And so I’m like....literally sitting here googling synonyms for spark because I’m just like that sometimes, lmfao. Oh and of course its gotta be a GOOD replacement, naturally. I can’t just shoehorn in a somewhat acceptable substitute that in the back of my mind I’m expecting to only be temporary, until I come up with something better. See, because my brain will KNOW, and it will NOT be okay with that, because that is CHEATING. And my brain, apparently, has strong feelings about cheating, which is weird and fairly unexpected of me, IMO.

Anyway, kudos to anyone who actually read through that instead of scrolling, I honestly have zero idea why I felt like sharing it, I just did and thus I did. *shrugs*