#ok I’ve been ordered to take it easy by my therapist

[hairstevington]

Stranger Therapy

Eddie Munson x Steve Harrington

Summary: Based on this text post, Steve and Eddie match on Tinder and decide to go to couple's counseling on a first date to see how long it takes the therapist (Murray) to figure them out. Link to Ao3

Word Count: 3K, check out part 2 part 3 part 4 and epilogue!

Warnings: Nothing too serious, Steve/Eddie went to high school together but don't know each other, modern day AU, aged up, brief Robin cameo, Matchmaker Murray, and my fav tag of all - gay scheming!

A/N: I'm a counselor in training currently but I don't specialize in couple's counseling so this may or may not be accurate? Idk man it's just fun and silly I love our stupid boys sm. Original post by @hxneyfarms

It’s a match!

“Robin, it worked!” Steve shouted from the couch. She ran from the kitchen and joined him, peering over to stare at his screen.

“I told you it would! It’s funny!” she insisted. Steve rolled his eyes and anxiously pulled up the profile of his new match. 

“Oh, shit,” Steve said. “I remember swiping right on this guy. Didn’t think I had a shot.” He looked through the pictures. They were all candids, slightly blurry, or shots of him with his friends, but due to his distinguished look it was easy to pick him out even in a crowd. 

“Show me his bio,” Robin ordered. Steve closed out the pictures and scrolled until the bio was in full view.

Eddie, 25. Shit at bios.

“Well that’s kind of boring,” Steve said. 

“Yeah. You think he’s a bot?” Robin asked.

 “Or a catfish, maybe,” Steve mused. “Either way, I still think I should take your joke down. I don’t talk like that in real life, and people might get confused.”

Robin had convinced him earlier to change his bio and replace it with - let’s go to couple’s counseling and see how long it takes the therapist to realize we don’t know each other. Steve had been a little tipsy when he agreed, and he assumed nothing would come of it. But then, Eddie matched with him. 

“You’re thinking way too hard about this, Dingus,” Robin replied. “People write weird shit in their Tinder bios all the time.” 

“Eddie didn’t,” Steve countered. 

“Yeah, but look at him,” Robin responded. “He’s distinctive. It’s attention-grabbing in itself.”

“And I’m not?” Steve asked. Robin chuckled.

“You’re the kind of pretty where if you don’t have something witty in the bio, people will think you’re just some ignorant surface-level airhead who’s never worked a day in his life, and that’s not cute.”

“Okay, ouch,” Steve said. 

“It’s a compliment!” she insisted. “Like, you need to show that you’re witty and funny and able to poke fun at yourself, otherwise you’re going to attract the wrong kind of people.”

“And this guy’s the right kind, huh?” Steve opened one of the pictures back up - one where Eddie was passed out on the couch with a beer still in his hand. As they looked at the screen, a notification popped up. Eddie sent you a message.

“Let’s find out,” Robin said. 

-

Eddie: If your bio is serious, I’m in

Steve: Wait, really?

Eddie: Yeah xD sounds fun

Eddie: You got a therapist in mind?

Steve: Honestly didn’t think I’d get this far

Eddie: Boo. 

Eddie: You’re lucky I know just the guy

Steve: Okay…

Steve: So how do we do this?

Eddie: Dude, it was YOUR idea

Steve: Ok but I’ve never done it before!

Eddie: Steve! I’m your first? <3

Steve: Yeah, yeah. I’ve never pranked a therapist before. 

Eddie: I hope you’re either rich or have really good insurance. Otherwise this is gonna be an expensive first date.

Steve: I got it covered. 

Eddie: I figured you did. I’ll call the guy in the morning and get back to you with the appointment time. 

Steve: Okay. How’s your night going by the way?

Eddie: Nope!

Eddie: That’s not part of the deal, Steve. We go into this blind or not at all.

Steve: This is insane.

Eddie: Once again, your idea. I’m excited. Are you excited?

Steve: Thrilled.

Steve: I’m still concerned about how you know the perfect guy for this.

Eddie: 😛

Eddie: Don’t worry about it.

-

“I don’t even think he’s serious,” Steve said after he recounted the entire interaction to Robin.

“I don’t know, Steve. Sounds serious to me.” 

“What if he’s like - not right in the head?” Steve wondered, reading the interaction over and over again. “Like, who is this therapist and why does he know him? Is he actually going to make an appointment? What if this whole thing crashes and burns?”

“I honestly think he plans on it crashing and burning,” Robin replied. “And then after, the both of you either hit it off and laugh about it forever, or you have an amazing failed date story to tell your friends until the end of time.”

“That’s…actually genius.” 

“I know.” 

Steve read the messages one last time, focusing on the bits where Eddie was mildly flirtatious. Steve! I’m your first? He could tell if Eddie was being condescending, or what vibe he was going to bring to this absolute insane first date. But, as Robin said, it would be a story no matter what. 

He tried to focus on that and not the anxiety that started brewing in his veins.

-

The appointment was set for two weeks later. Eddie still refused to talk to Steve other than for details on where to go and at what time, so for the whole fourteen days, Steve assumed he was being pranked right back. Eddie was messing with him, or he’d cancel, or Dr. Bauman didn’t actually exist, or he’d be murdered, or, or, or -

None of that happened. Instead, on a Tuesday afternoon, Steve pulled up to an office building about fifteen minutes from his apartment. He’d passed by it several times and never once wondered what went on inside. 

Apparently, really weird first dates.

They had decided to meet up in the parking lot and walk in together. The whole thing was crazy, but having one of them pick the other up so they could drive in together was way over what was needed to commit to the bit. 

Steve got there first. They needed to be fifteen minutes early to fill out paperwork. It was twenty minutes prior to their appointment time. 

This was weird. It felt a lot different than all the times he’d met someone for coffee. In another world, that’s how he and Eddie would have met. But no. He had to agree to this stupid thing, and now he was too far into it to back out. Jesus Christ. 

Eddie’s car pulled in a few spaces down. Steve knew it was him from the hair alone - unmistakable. He got out of his car and walked towards his date, his palms sweaty. Eddie got out of his car a moment later, eyeing Steve as he approached him and smirking. 

“What gave me away?” Eddie asked. 

“You think I wouldn’t recognize my boyfriend?” Steve snapped back, pleased at the way he was able to take Eddie off guard. 

“Touche. Well, come on, then. Let’s do this.” 

-

Before they knew it, they were sitting in a cramped waiting room, alone, filling out paperwork. It consisted of insurance information first, followed by names and some quick background questions about the “couple.” Steve began filling it out, thankful that he was still on his dad’s fancy rich-person insurance. It covered basically everything, even fucked-up couples fraud with Dr. Bauman.

“Are you not worried I’m gonna, like, steal your information or something?” Eddie asked as Steve wrote down his policy number.

“I mean…should I be?” Steve responded. 

“No,” Eddie answered with a shrug. “I gotta say, though, you’re way more trusting than I am. It’s ballsy. I like it.” 

“Uhh…” Steve was trying to concentrate on the paperwork, but the compliment was throwing him off. “Thank you, I think.” He continued filling out the paperwork.

“You’re from Hawkins?” he asked. Steve nodded, absentmindedly. “I’m from Hawkins.” This caught Steve’s attention. 

“No shit.” 

“Yeah, seriously.”

“Small world,” Steve replied before turning his attention back to the form.

“You have a cute middle name,” Eddie teased. 

“Shut up,” Steve responded. He wanted to find Eddie’s pestering annoying, but instead he found himself smirking, even giggling a little bit. This whole thing was so ridiculous. He shoved the clipboard onto Eddie’s lap. “Your turn, lover.”

“Euch,” Eddie groaned. “That is not one of our pet names, no way.” 

“Noted,” Steve chuckled. He was…kind of enjoying this way more than he expected, as weird as it was. He’d grown accustomed to a lot of even stranger things in his life, so this didn’t feel as shocking as he’d initially thought. 

“Don’t look,” Eddie said as he covered the paper.

“What? Why not?” Steve asked, confused. 

“Because not all of us are as blindly trusting, Steven,” Eddie responded. Steve shook his head and looked away. 

“Good thing we’re in therapy to work that shit out, Edward Munson.”

“You looked!” Eddie exclaimed. 

“It was right in front of me!” Steve pointed out. 

“Fair enough,” Eddie sighed. “Okay, now we gotta put down a reason for doing this.”

-

Fast forward ten minutes, Eddie and Steve were seated next to each other on a relatively small but cozy burnt orange couch. The color was ugly, but the seats were comfortable. Steve noticed the cushions had a natural dip that kept inching him closer to the person sitting on the opposite side. He figured this was certainly intentional. 

The doctor sat in front of them, reviewing the papers the pair had just filled out.

“Hello, my name is Dr. Bauman, and one day I may let you call me Murray,” he began, his eyes fixed on the papers in front of him. “I see here on your sheet that you’ve been feeling distant from each other, and that you’re looking to feel more connected, right? Can you tell me more about that?”

“We’re just launching right into it, huh?” Eddie asked. 

“Well, we are on a time crunch here. Your decision how you spend it,” Dr. Bauman answered. 

The man was immediately intimidating.

“Ooookay,” Steve said, taking a deep breath. “Yeah, I guess it just feels like - like he and I don’t even know each other anymore.” Eddie stifled a laugh, covering his mouth with his hand to make it seem like he was maybe getting emotional or perhaps trying not to sneeze. 

“I see,” Dr. Bauman said, eyeing them both suspiciously. “Let’s begin with how you two met and we’ll go from there, okay?”

“We were high school sweethearts,” Eddie replied with a grin.

“Wow,” Dr. Bauman commented. “Well, it’s common for a lot of development to happen from then to now. How did you two get together?” Eddie looked to Steve, as if to say, you’re up.

“It just kinda…happened, I guess,” Steve began. “We were assigned as partners for a project and really clicked.”

“Yeah, and then we snuck around for a while. Sneaking kisses in janitor's closets and empty classrooms, you know the drill.” Steve tried not to blush at the thought of sneaking around with high school Eddie. If they were both from Hawkins, did they actually go to high school together?

“Snuck around for the thrill?” Dr. Bauman asked.

“No,” Steve responded. “I wasn’t out yet.” Eddie looked at him curiously, as if he wasn’t expecting Steve to say something so serious. He wondered if it was actually true. 

“Well, that and -” Eddie added. “- he was a popular jock and I was kind of a freak.” This time, Steve looked at Eddie curiously. Steve was a popular jock. Eddie could have assumed that, or made a lucky guess, but something told him that wasn’t the case. 

Eddie Munson. Munson. 

Oh.

Oh!

It took Steve a minute to recover from that information. They did in fact go to school together, they just had never interacted. Eddie obviously remembered, and he obviously knew that Steve didn’t. So what was the goal here? Was Steve being punked or something just so Eddie could get free therapy?

“Steve, you look a little pale there,” Dr. Bauman noticed. “Did that trigger something?”

“Yeah -” Steve croaked, now unable to look at Eddie. If he had, he would have noticed Eddie didn’t look as smug as Steve assumed he was. “Yeah, I just don’t think about high school that much anymore.”

“Why not?” the doctor asked. 

“Because, I - I’ve changed so much since then. I’m not that guy anymore, and I don’t want to be that guy.”

“Ah, I see,” he hummed. “So, Eddie fell for someone who no longer exists. I think I’m understanding the problem here. Eddie, do you feel that you’ve changed?”

Damn. This guy’s kinda good.

“Uhhh -” Eddie began. Neither of them expected this to get so serious so quickly. It didn’t even feel like it was about their imagined relationship anymore. “N-no, I don’t think I have.”

“And Steve, do you think Eddie has changed?”

Steve thought about the limited memories he had of Eddie in high school. Cocky, slightly unhinged, just as he was now. But there was something different, he just couldn’t really pinpoint what. Maybe if he’d talked to Eddie for longer than like ten minutes total in his life, he’d have a better idea. 

Then, he realized the point of this wasn’t to be serious. It was to make shit up. Steve pivoted back to the original plan. 

“Yeah, I mean -” He shifted in his seat, finding himself now thigh to thigh with Eddie, despite not meaning to be. “He’s, uh - it just feels like we don’t have anything in common anymore?” It was something he’d heard lots of couples say.

“Do you want to make this work?” Dr. Bauman asked. 

“Why else would we be here?” Eddie answered. Dr. Bauman narrowed his eyes. 

“You tell me.”

Eddie and Steve were kind of not good at this. Their story was based in truth and not very exciting. They both seemed to realize this at the same time.

“Steve slept with the dogwalker,” Eddie proclaimed. Steve scoffed, half-amused, half-offended. 

“Yeah, well you sold drugs to my mom!” he shot back. The two guys looked at each other, pretending to look angry while simultaneously wanting to laugh. 

“Woooah, there,” Dr. Bauman responded. “Now we’re getting somewhere. Do we want to begin with Steve’s infidelity or Eddie’s illegal activity?”

“That’s not gonna, like, go on record or anything, right?” Steve asked, suddenly anxious. “Like, the cops aren’t gonna show up at Eddie’s door?”

“Our door, babe,” Eddie clarified, not the least bit nervous. 

“Depends on how long ago this happened, I suppose,” Dr. Bauman answered.

“Long time ago,” Eddie said. 

“Are you still currently dealing?”

“No, I don’t even do drugs anymore. Well, like, except pot - but that’s legal now so it doesn’t really count, I think.”

“Dude,” Steve whispered. 

“You brought it up,” Eddie replied just as softly. 

“Right,” Dr. Bauman responded, taking it all in. “No report needed, then. Let’s move onto the dogwalker.” 

They continued to add to their lore as the appointment went on. At one point, Eddie even faked tears. His acting was…decent enough to avoid suspicion, thankfully. When the clock hit 1:45, their time was up, and they’d successfully managed to fool Dr. Bauman. Mission accomplished, date over. Right?

“Well, thank you so much, Dr. Bauman,” Eddie said. “I think you’ve really helped us out today.”

“Yeah, seriously,” Steve said, smiling. “We feel so much better.”

“Now hold on a minute,” Dr. Bauman said with his hands up. “There’s still a lot of work to be done, in my professional opinion.”

“There is?” Eddie asked, confused. 

“Oh, definitely. Most couples go to a minimum of four sessions, and that’s still a low average. Plus, this was only intake. I mean, unless you guys weren’t happy with the counseling I gave you today…”

It felt like a challenge, and Eddie loved challenges. Meanwhile, Steve was too awkward to come clean or tell the doctor they weren’t interested. 

They made another appointment.

-

“Well, that went pretty well, I think,” Eddie said as they left the building. 

“You knew me already?” Steve asked once they were a safe enough distance from the office and Dr. Bauman. “Why didn’t you say anything?”

“I just knew your name and face, man. And, like, your vibe,” Eddie answered. “Back in high school, anyway.” 

“You should have told me,” Steve said. 

“You should have remembered,” Eddie shot back. “Whatever, it was fun. Right?”

“Eddie, I have no idea what that was,” Steve replied. “We have to cancel that appointment.”

“Why? You don’t want to see me again?” Eddie grinned. Steve rolled his eyes.

“No, I - I mean, I don’t want to waste his time. That spot should go to other couples who need it. Meanwhile, we could go get coffee like normal adults.” 

“I dunno,” Eddie said, kicking a pebble in the road as they walked. “I kinda liked it. You can’t tell me you didn’t.”

It was true. Steve couldn’t say that he didn’t.

“Doesn’t matter.” Steve unlocked his car and made his way to the door. “We’re canceling.”

“He’s the one that wanted to see us again, Steve,” Eddie reminded him. 

“Yeah, because he thought we were an actual couple.” Steve was getting frustrated at Eddie’s antics, and the way he refused to back down. “I don’t know if this is gonna work, man. This has been, uh - well, it’s been weird, but I think -”

“We have to go, otherwise you’ll be charged a cancellation fee,” Eddie blurted out. It was a lie, a bold-faced lie, and yet -

“So, I’ll pay the fee. Can’t be more than the cost of a full session,” Steve figured. 

“Ugh!” Eddie groaned in frustration. “Okay, fine. Look - I’m annoying as hell, I’m a mess, I’m broke, and I could never afford someone like Dr. Bauman. I don’t know about you, but some of the things he said actually made me think and I kind of want to ask him about, like, real shit.” 

Steve stared at him blankly for a minute. 

“You - you want me to keep going to fake couple’s counseling with you so you can get actual therapy?” Steve asked, stunned. 

“I mean, you could work your shit out, too,” Eddie suggested.

“What shit? I don’t have shit,” Steve insisted. 

“Of course you do! Everyone does!” Eddie yelled. 

“You’re insane,” Steve muttered. The thing was, he wasn’t saying it out of anger. He was saying it in understanding. 

Because the thing was, Eddie had a point. Dr. Bauman was good at what he did, and Steve knew he’d never sign up for individual counseling. He already had the appointment. Eddie smirked. 

“You’re with me, aren’t you?”

Fuck.

“Fine,” Steve agreed. 

-

Notes from Dr. Bauman - 3/18

Eddie and Steve

Together since high school

Feelings of disconnect

Steve/dogwalker

Eddie/mom/drugs

Clearly lying

Clients are faking their relationship for me, for some reason. Will continue to work with them to figure out why. 

They aren’t dating…but they should be

(next chapter)

------------------------------------

@ofherscarlettwitchways @livvyshmiv @paintballkid711 @abraca-fxckyou @allbimyself26 @jellybabiesforall @allbymyselfexceptformycactus @justaloadofgarbage-blog @alliemunsonsstuff @undreamingscatworld @thefruityfours @hobbitnarwhal @calivanus @wreckmyplans-thatsmyman @antheia @goodolefashionedloverboi @lillemilly @missmagillicuddy @steviesbicrisis @gamerdano @menamesniall @eyeslikewildflowers111 @callmesirkay @stringischeese @eds-trashmouth @mnl-enuh @redfreckledwolf @itsanarrum @soulsofstarsliveinyourveins @gregre369 @stevesbipanic @momotonescreaming @aryakanojiaa @wrenisflying @comicmadlover @lilacrobin @itch-my-b0nez @anonymousbandgirl @disastardly @Dang_Dirty_Demons @daisyellsong @val-from-lawrence @starryeyedpoet17 @taikawaiteatea @samthemissfit @chaoticvictorianspirit @elizbaehth @despoenaandpyromania @bagofgreentea

#steddie #this is honestly so wild haha #nobody do this irl #but it's fun to read and write about! #steve harrington x eddie munson #eddie munson x steve harrington #stranger things fanfiction #steddie fanfic #stranger things au #writing #st fanfic

[iamshwee]

SHADOW WORK: The Ultimate Guide

I. Why Focusing Only on the Light is a Form of Escapism

For most of my life, I’ve grown up firmly believing that the only thing worthy of guiding me was “light” and “love.” Whether through the family environment I was raised in, or the cultural myths I was brought up clinging to, I once believed that all you really needed to do in life to be happy was to focus on everything beautiful, positive and spiritually “righteous.” I’m sure you were raised believing a similar story as well. It’s a sort of “Recipe for Well-Being.”

But a few years ago, after battling ongoing mental health issues, I realized something shocking:

I was wrong.

Not just wrong, but completely and utterly off the mark. Focusing only on “love and light” will not heal your wounds on a deep level. In fact, I’ve learned through a lot of heavy inner work, that not only is focusing solely on “holiness” in life one side of the equation, but it is actually a form of spiritually bypassing your deeper, darker problems that, let me assure you, almost definitely exist.

It is very easy and comfortable to focus only on the light side of life. So many people in today’s world follow this path. And while it might provide some temporary emotional support, it doesn’t reach to the depths of your being: it doesn’t transform you at a core level. Instead, it leaves you superficially hanging onto warm and fuzzy platitudes which sound nice, but don’t enact any real change.

What DOES touch the very depths of your being, however, is exploring your Shadow.

II. What is the Human Shadow?

In short, the human shadow is our dark side; our lost and forgotten disowned self. 

Your shadow is the place within you that contains all of your secrets, repressed feelings, primitive impulses, and parts deemed “unacceptable,” shameful, “sinful” or even “evil.” 

This dark place lurking within your unconscious mind also contains suppressed and rejected emotions such as rage, jealousy, hatred, greed, deceitfulness, and selfishness.

So where did the Shadow Self idea originate? The concept was originally coined and explored by Swiss psychiatrist and psychoanalyst, Carl Jung. In Jung’s own words:

“Everyone carries a shadow, and the less it is embodied in the individual’s conscious life, the blacker and denser it is.”

When the human Shadow is shunned, it tends to undermine and sabotage our lives. Addictions, low self-esteem, mental illness, chronic illnesses, and various neuroses are all attributed to the Shadow Self. When our Shadows are suppressed or repressed in the unconscious long enough, they can even overtake our entire lives and causes psychosis or extreme forms of behavior like cheating on one’s partner or physically harming others. Intoxicants such as alcohol and drugs also have a tendency to unleash the Shadow.

Thankfully, there is a way to explore the Shadow and prevent it from devouring our existence, and that is called Shadow Work.

III. What is Shadow Work?

Shadow work is the process of exploring your inner darkness or “Shadow Self.” As mentioned previously, your Shadow Self is part of your unconscious mind and contains everything you feel ashamed of thinking and feeling, as well as every impulse, repressed idea, desire, fear, and perversion that for one reason or another, you have “locked away” consciously or unconsciously. Often this is done as a way of keeping yourself tame, likable, and “civilized” in the eyes of others.

Shadow work is the attempt to uncover everything that we have hidden and every part of us that has been disowned and rejected within our Shadow Selves. 

Why? Because without revealing to ourselves what we have hidden, we remain burdened with problems such as anger, guilt, shame, disgust, and grief.

All throughout the history of mankind Shadow Work has played a powerful yet mysterious and occult role in helping us discover what is causing us mental illness, physical dis-ease and even insanity resulting in crimes of all kinds.

Traditionally, Shadow Work fell in the realm of the Shamans, or medicine people, as well as the priests and priestesses of the archaic periods of history.  These days, Shadow Work falls more commonly in the realms of psychotherapy, with psychologists, psychiatrists, spiritual guides, and therapists.

IV. Do We All Have a Shadow Self?

Yes, we ALL have a Shadow Self.

As uncomfortable as it may sound, there is a dark side within every human being. Why is this the case? The reason why all human beings have a shadow is due to the way we were raised as human beings, often referred to as our ‘conditioning.’

“But I’m a good person! I don’t have a ‘shadow’ side,” you might be thinking. Well, the reality is that yes, you might be a good person. In fact, you might be the most generous, loving, and selfless person in the entire world. You might feed the hungry, save puppies, and donate half of your salary to the poor. But that doesn’t exclude you from having a Shadow. 

There are no exceptions here. 

The nature of being human is to possess both a light and a dark side, and we need to embrace that.

Sometimes, when people hear that they have a Shadow side (or when it is pointed out), there is a lot of denial. We have been taught to perceive ourselves in a very two-dimensional and limited way. We have been taught that only criminals, murderers, and thieves have a Shadow side.

This black and white thinking is one of the major causes of our suffering.

If the thought of having a Shadow side disturbs you, take a moment to consider whether you have developed an idealized self. 

Signs of an idealized self include attitudes such as:

·   “I’m not like those people, I’m better.”

·  “I have never strayed.”

·  “God is proud of me.”

·  “Criminals and wrongdoers aren’t human.”

·  “Everyone sees how good I am (even so, I have to remind them).”

·  “I’m a role model.”

·  “I should be validated and applauded for my good deeds.”

·  “I don’t have bad thoughts, so why do others?”

Such perceptions about oneself are unrealistic, unhealthy, and largely delusional. The only way to find inner peace, happiness, authentic love, self-fulfillment, and Illumination is to explore our Shadow.

V. How is Our Shadow Side Formed?

Your Shadow side is formed in childhood and is both (a) a product of natural ego development, and (b) a product of conditioning or socialization. Socialization is the process of learning to behave in a way that is acceptable to society.

When we are born, we are are all full of potential, with the ability to survive and develop in a variety of ways. As time goes on, we learn more and more to become a certain type of person. Slowly, due to our circumstances and preferences, we begin to adopt certain character traits and reject others. For example, if we are born into a family that shows little interpersonal warmth, we will develop personality traits that make us self-sufficient and perhaps standoffish or mind-oriented. If we are born into a family that rewards compliance and shuns rebellion, we will learn that being submissive works, and thus adopt that as part of our ego structure.

As authors and Jungian therapists, Steve Price and David Haynes write:

“But, as we develop our ego-personality, we also do something else at the same time. What has happened to all those parts of our original potential that we didn’t develop? They won’t just cease to exist: they will still be there, as potential or as partly developed, then rejected, personality attributes, and they will live on in the unconscious as an alternative to the waking ego. So, by the very act of creating a specifically delineated ego-personality, we have also created its opposite in the unconscious. This is the shadow. Everyone has one.”

As we can see, developing the Shadow Self is a natural part of development.

But you also formed an alter ego due to social conditioning, i.e. your parents, family members, teachers, friends, and society at large all contributed to your Shadow.

How?

Well here’s the thing: polite society operates under certain rules. In other words, certain behaviors and characteristics are approved of, while others are shunned. Take anger for example. Anger is an emotion that is commonly punished while growing up. Throwing tantrums, swearing, and destroying things was frowned upon by our parents and teachers. Therefore, many of us learned that expressing anger was not “OK.” Instead of being taught healthy ways to express our anger, we were punished sometimes physically (with smacks or being grounded), and often emotionally (withdrawal of love and affection).

There are countless behaviors, emotions, and beliefs that are rejected in society, and thus, are rejected by ourselves. In order to fit in, be accepted, approved, and loved, we learned to act a certain way. We adopted a role that would ensure our mental, emotional, and physical survival. But at the same time, wearing a mask has consequences. What happened to all the authentic, wild, socially taboo, or challenging parts of ourselves? They were trapped in the Shadow.

What happens as we grow up?

Through time, we learn to both enjoy, and despise, our socially-approved egos because, on the one hand, they make us feel good and “lovable,” but on the other hand, they feel phony and inhibited.

Therapist Steve Wolf has a perfect analogy that describes this process:

“Each of us is like Dorian Gray. We seek to present a beautiful, innocent face to the world; a kind, courteous demeanor; a youthful, intelligent image. And so, unknowingly but inevitably, we push away those qualities that do not fit the image, that does not enhance our self-esteem and make us stand proud but, instead, bring us shame and make us feel small. We shove into the dark cavern of the unconscious those feelings that make us uneasy — hatred, rage, jealousy, greed, competition, lust, shame — and those behaviors that are deemed wrong by the culture — addiction, laziness, aggression, dependency — thereby creating what could be called shadow content. Like Dorian’s painting, these qualities ultimately take on a life of their own, forming an invisible twin that lives just behind our life, or just beside it …”

But while the Shadow Self may be portrayed as our “evil twin,” it is not entirely full of “bad” stuff. There is actually gold to be found within the Shadow.

VI. What is the Golden Shadow?

Jung once states that “the shadow is ninety percent pure gold.” What this means is that there are many beautiful gifts offered to us by our Shadow side if we take the time to look. For example, so much of our creative potential is submerged within our darkness because we were taught when little to reject it.

Not everything within our Shadow is doom and gloom. In fact, the Shadow contains some of our most powerful gifts and talents, such as our artistic, sexual, competitive, innovative, and even intuitive aptitudes.

The ‘Golden Shadow’ also presents us with the opportunity for tremendous psychological and spiritual growth. By doing Shadow Work, we learn that every single emotion and wound that we possess has a gift to share with us. Even the most obnoxious, “ugly,” or shameful parts of ourselves provide a path back to Oneness. Such is the power of the Shadow – it is both a terrifying journey, but is ultimately a path to Enlightenment or Illumination. Every spiritual path needs Shadow Work to prevent the issues from happening that we’ll explore next.

VII. What Happens When You Reject Your Shadow?

When shadow-work is neglected, the soul feels dry, brittle, like an empty vessel. — S. Wolf

Rejecting, suppressing, denying, or disowning your Shadow, whether consciously or unconsciously, is a dangerous thing. The thing about the Shadow Self is that it seeks to be known. It yearns to be understood, explored, and integrated. It craves to be held in awareness. The longer the Shadow stays buried and locked in its jail cell deep within the unconscious, the more it will find opportunities to make you aware of its existence.

Both religion and modern spirituality tend to focus on the “love and light” aspects of spiritual growth to their own doom. 

This over-emphasis on the fluffy, transcendental, and feel-good elements of a spiritual awakening results in shallowness and phobia of whatever is too real, earthy, or dark.

Spiritually bypassing one’s inner darkness results in a whole range of serious issues. Some of the most common and reoccurring Shadow issues that appear in the spiritual/religious community include pedophilia among priests, financial manipulation of followers among gurus, and of course, megalomania, narcissism, and God complexes among spiritual teachers.

Other issues that arise when we reject our Shadow side can include:

·  Hypocrisy (believing and supporting one thing, but doing the other)

·  Lies and self-deceit (both towards oneself and others)

·  Uncontrollable bursts of rage/anger

·  Emotional and mental manipulation of others

·  Greed and addictions

·  Phobias and obsessive compulsions

·  Racist, sexist, homophobic, and other offensive behavior

·  Intense anxiety

·  Chronic psychosomatic illness

·  Depression (which can turn into suicidal tendencies)

·  Sexual perversion

·  Narcissistically inflated ego

·  Chaotic relationships with others

·  Self-loathing

·  Self-absorption

·  Self-sabotage

… and many others. This is by no means a comprehensive list (and there are likely many other issues out there). As we’ll learn next, one of the greatest ways we reject our Shadow is through psychological projection.

VIII. The Shadow and Projection (a Dangerous Mix)

One of the biggest forms of Shadow rejection is something called projection.

Projection is a term that refers to seeing things in others that are actually within ourselves.

When we pair projection and the Shadow Self together, we have a dangerous mix. Why? Because as psychotherapist Robert A. Johnson writes:

“We generally seek to punish that which reminds us most uncomfortable about the part of ourselves that we have not come to terms with, and we often ‘see’ these disowned qualities in the world around us.”

There are many different ways we ‘punish’ those who are mirrors of our Shadow qualities. We may criticize, reject, hate, dehumanize, or even in extreme cases, physically or psychologically seek to destroy them (think of countries who go at war with the “enemies”). None of us are innocent in this area. We have ALL projected parts of our rejected self onto others. In fact, Shadow projection is a major cause of relationship dysfunction and break down.

If we are seeking to bring peace, love, and meaning to our lives, we absolutely MUST reclaim these projections. Through Shadow Work, we can explore exactly what we have disowned.

IX. Twelve Benefits of Shadow Work

Firstly, I want to say that I have the highest respect for Shadow Work. It is the single most important path I’ve taken to uncover my core wounds, core beliefs, traumas, and projections. I have also observed how Shadow Work has helped to create profound clarity, understanding, harmony, acceptance, release, and inner peace in the lives of others. It is truly deep work that makes changes on the Soul level targeting the very roots of our issues, not just the superficial symptoms.

There is SO much to be gained from making Shadow Work a part of your life, and daily routine. Here are some of the most commonly experienced benefits:

1.     Deeper love and acceptance of yourself

2.     Better relationships with others, including your partner and children

3.     More confidence to be your authentic self

4.     More mental, emotional, and spiritual clarity

5.     Increased compassion/understanding for others = who you dislike

6.     Enhanced creativity

7.     Discovery of hidden gifts and talents

8.     Deepened understanding of your passions and ultimate life purpose

9.     Improved physical and mental health

10.   More courage to face the unknown and truly live life

11.   Access to your Soul or Higher Self

12.   A feeling of Wholeness

It’s important to remember that there are no quick fixes in Shadow Work, so these life-changing benefits don’t just happen overnight. But with persistence, they will eventually emerge and bless your life.

X. Seven Tips for Approaching Shadow Work

Before you begin Shadow Work, you need to assess whether you’re ready to embark on this journey. Not everyone is prepared for this deep work, and that’s fine. We’re all at different stages. So pay attention to the following questions and try to answer them honestly:

·        Have you practiced self-love yet?

o   If not, Shadow Work will be too overwhelming for you. I have starred this bullet point because it is essential for you to consider. Shadow Work should not be attempted by those who have poor self-worth or struggle with self-loathing. In other words: if you struggle with severely low self-esteem, please do not attempt Shadow Work. I emphatically warn you against doing it. Why? If you struggle with extremely poor self-worth, exploring your Shadow will likely make you feel ten times worse about yourself. Before you walk this path, you absolutely must establish a strong and healthy self-image. No, you don’t have to think you’re God’s gift to the world, but having average self-worth is important. Try taking this self-esteem test to explore whether you’re ready (but first, don’t forget to finish this article!).

·        Are you prepared to make time? 

o   Shadow Work is not a lukewarm practice. You are either all in or all out. Yes, it is important to take a break from it from time to time. But Shadow Work requires dedication, self-discipline, and persistence. Are you willing to intentionally carve out time each day to dedicate to it? Even just ten minutes a day is a good start.

·        Are you looking to be validated or to find the truth? 

o   As you probably know by now, Shadow Work isn’t about making you feel special. It isn’t like typical spiritual paths that are focused on the feel-good. No, Shadow Work can be brutal and extremely confronting. This is a path for truth seekers, not those who are seeking to be validated.

·        Seek to enter a calm and neutral space. 

o   It is important to try and relax when doing Shadow Work. Stress and judgmental or critical attitudes will inhibit the process. So please try to incorporate a calming meditation or mindfulness technique into whatever you do.

·        Understand that you are not your thoughts. 

o   You need to realize that you are not your thoughts for Shadow Work to be healing and liberating. Only from your calm and quiet Center (also known as your Soul) can you truly be aware of your Shadow aspects. By holding them in awareness, you will see them clearly for what they are, and realize that they ultimately don’t define you; they are simply rising and falling mental phenomena.

·        Practice self-compassion.

o   It is of paramount importance to incorporate compassion and self-acceptance into your Shadow Work practice. Without showing love and understanding to yourself, it is easy for Shadow Work to backfire and make you feel terrible. So focus on generating self-love and compassion, and you will be able to release any shame and embrace your humanity.

·        Record everything you find. 

o   Keep a written journal or personal diary in which you write down, or draw, your discoveries. Recording your dreams, observations, and analysis will help you to learn and grow more effectively. You’ll also be able to keep track of your process and make important connections.

 XI. How to Practice Shadow Work

There are many Shadow Work techniques and exercises out there. In this guide, I will provide a few to help you start off. I’ll also share a few examples from my own life:

1. Pay attention to your emotional reactions

In this practice, you’ll learn that what you give power to has power over you. Let me explain:

One Shadow Work practice I enjoy a great deal is paying attention to everything that shocks, disturbs, and secretly thrills me. Essentially, this practice is about finding out what I’ve given the power to in my life unconsciously, because: what we place importance in – whether good or bad – says a lot about us.

The reality is that what we react to, or what makes us angry and distressed, reveals extremely important information to us about ourselves.

For example, by following where my “demons” have taken me – whether in social media, family circles, workspaces, and public places – I have discovered two important things about myself. The first one is that I’m a control freak; I hate feeling vulnerable, powerless and weak . . . it quite simply scares the living hell out of me. How did I discover this? Through my intense dislike of witnessing rape scenes in movies and TV shows, my negative reaction to novel experiences (e.g. roller coaster rides, public speaking, etc.), as well as my discomfort surrounding sharing information about my life with others in conversations. Also, by following where my “demons” have guided me I’ve discovered that I’m being burdened by an exasperating guilt complex that I developed through my religious upbringing. Apart of me wants to feel unworthy because that is what I’ve developed a habit of feeling since childhood (e.g. “You’re a sinner,” “It’s your fault Jesus was crucified”), and therefore, that is what I secretly feel comfortable with feeling: unworthy. So my mind nit-picks anything I might have done “wrong,” and I’m left with the feeling of being “bad” – which I’m used to, but nevertheless, this is destructive for my well-being.

Thanks to this practice, I have welcomed more compassion, mindfulness, and forgiveness into my life.

Paying attention to your emotional reactions can help you to discover exactly how your core wounds are affecting you on a daily basis.

How to Pay Attention to Your Emotional Reactions

To effectively pay attention to your emotional reactions (I call it “following the trail of your inner demons”), you first need to cultivate:

1. Self-awareness

Without being conscious of what you’re doing, thinking, feeling, and saying, you won’t progress very far.

If, however, you are fairly certain that you’re self-aware (or enough to start the process), you will then need to:

2. Adopt an open mindset

You will need to have the courage and willingness to observe EVERYTHING uncomfortable you place importance in, and ask “why?” What do I mean by the phrase “placing importance in”? By this, I mean that, whatever riles, shocks, infuriates, disturbs and terrifies you, you must pay attention to. Closely.

Likely, you will discover patterns constantly emerging in your life. For example, you might be outraged or embarrassed every time sex appears in a TV show or movie you like (possibly revealing sexual repression or mistaken beliefs about sex that you’ve adopted throughout life). Or you might be terrified of seeing death or dead people (possibly revealing your resistance to the nature of life or childhood trauma). Or you might be disgusted by alternative political, sexual, and spiritual lifestyles (possibly revealing your hidden desire to do the same).

There are so many possibilities out there, and I encourage you to go slowly, take your time, and one by one pick through what you place importance in.

“But I DON’T place importance in gross, bad or disturbing things in life, how could I? I don’t care for them!” you might be asking.

Well, think for a moment. If you didn’t place so much importance on what makes you angry, disgusted or upset . . . why would you be reacting to it so much? The moment you emotionally react to something is the moment you have given that thing power over you. Only that which doesn’t stir up emotions in us is not important to us.

See what you respond to and listen to what your Shadow is trying to teach you.

2. Artistically Express Your Shadow Self

Art is the highest form of self-expression and is also a great way to allow your Shadow to manifest itself.  Psychologists often use art therapy as a way to help patients explore their inner selves.

Start by allowing yourself to feel (or drawing on any existing) dark emotions. Choose an art medium that calls to you such as pen and pencil, watercolor, crayon, acrylic paint, scrapbooking, sculpting, etc. and draw what you feel. You don’t need to consider yourself an ‘artist’ to benefit from this activity. You don’t even need to plan what you’ll create. Just let your hands, pen, pencil, or paintbrush do the talking. The more spontaneous, the better. Artistic expression can reveal a lot about your obscure darker half. Psychologist Carl Jung (who conceptualized the Shadow Self idea) was even famous for using mandalas in his therapy sessions.

3. Start a Project

The act of creation can be intensely frustrating and can give birth to some of your darker elements such as impatience, anger, blood-thirsty competitiveness, and self-doubt. At the same time, starting a project also allows you to experience feelings of fulfillment and joy.

If you don’t already have a personal project that you’re undertaking (such as building something, writing a book, composing music, mastering a new skill), find something you would love to start doing. Using self-awareness and self-exploration during the process of creation, you will be able to reap deeper insights into your darkness. Ask yourself constantly, “What am I feeling and why?” Notice the strong emotions that arise during the act of creation, both good and bad. You will likely be surprised by what you find!

For example, as a person who considers myself non-competitive, that assumption has been challenged by the act of writing this blog. Thanks to this project, the Shadow within me of ruthless competitiveness has shown its face, allowing me to understand myself more deeply.

4. Write a Story or Keep a Shadow Journal

Goethe’s story Faust is, in my opinion, one of the best works featuring the meeting of an ego and his Shadow Self.  His story details the life of a Professor who becomes so separated and overwhelmed by his Shadow that he comes to the verge of suicide, only to realize that the redemption of the ego is solely possible if the Shadow is redeemed at the same time.

Write a story where you project your Shadow elements onto the characters – this is a great way to learn more about your inner darkness.  If stories aren’t your thing, keeping a journal or diary every day can shine a light on the darker elements of your nature.  Reading through your dark thoughts and emotions can help you to recover the balance you need in life by accepting both light and dark emotions within you.

5. Explore Your Shadow Archetypes

We have several Shadow varieties, also called Shadow Archetypes. These archetypes are sometimes defined as:

·        The Sorcerer/Alchemist

·        The Dictator

·        The Victim

·        The Shadow Witch

·        The Addict

·        The Idiot

·        The Trickster

·        The Destroyer

·        The Slave

·        The Shadow Mother

·        The Hag

·        The Hermit

However, I have my own Shadow Archetype classification, which I will include below.

13 Shadow Archetypes

Here are my thirteen classifications which are based on my own self-observations and analysis of others:

1.  The Egotistical Shadow

This Shadow Archetype displays the following characteristics: arrogance, egocentricity, pompousness, inconsiderateness, self-indulgence, narcissism, excessive pride.

2.  The Neurotic Shadow

This Shadow Archetype displays the following characteristics: paranoia, obsessiveness, suspiciousness, finicky, demanding, compulsive behavior.

3.  The Untrustworthy Shadow

This Shadow Archetype displays the following characteristics: secretive, impulsive, frivolous, irresponsible, deceitful, unreliable.

4.  The Emotionally Unstable Shadow

This Shadow Archetype displays the following characteristics: moody, melodramatic, weepy, overemotional, impulsive, changeable.

5.  The Controlling Shadow

This Shadow Archetype displays the following characteristics: suspicious, jealous, possessive, bossy, obsessive.

6.  The Cynical Shadow

This Shadow Archetype displays the following characteristics: negative, overcritical, patronizing, resentful, cantankerous.

7.  The Wrathful Shadow

This Shadow Archetype displays the following characteristics: ruthless, vengeful, bitchy, quick-tempered, quarrelsome.

8.  The Rigid Shadow

This Shadow Archetype displays the following characteristics: uptight, intolerant, racist, sexist, ableist, homophobic, obstinate, uncompromising, inflexible, narrow-minded.

9.  The Glib Shadow

This Shadow Archetype displays the following characteristics: superficial, cunning, inconsistent, sly, crafty.

10.  The Cold Shadow

This Shadow Archetype displays the following characteristics: emotionally detached, distant, indifferent, uncaring, unexcited.

11.  The Perverted Shadow

This Shadow Archetype displays the following characteristics: masochistic, lewd, sadistic, vulgar, libidinous.

12.  The Cowardly Shadow

This Shadow Archetype displays the following characteristics: weak-willed, passive, timid, fearful.

13.  The Immature Shadow

This Shadow Archetype displays the following characteristics: puerile, childish, illogical, simpleminded, vacuous.

Keep in mind that the above Shadow Archetypes are by no means exhaustive. I’m sure that there are many others out there which I have missed. But you are free to use this breakdown to help you explore your own Shadows. You’re also welcome to add to this list or create your own Shadow Archetypes, which I highly encourage. For example, you might possess a judgmental and dogmatic Shadow who you call “The Nun,” or a sexually deviant Shadow who you call “The Deviant.” Play around with some words and labels, and see what suits your Shadows the best.

6. Have an Inner Conversation

Also known as “Inner Dialogue,” or as Carl Jung phrased it, “Active Imagination,” having a conversation with your Shadow is an easy way to learn from it.

I understand if you might feel a twinge of skepticism towards this practice right now. After all, we are taught that “only crazy people talk to themselves.” But inner dialogue is regularly used in psychotherapy as a way to help people communicate with the various subpersonalities that they have – and we all possess various faces and sides of our ego.

One easy way to practice inner dialogue is to sit in a quiet place, close your eyes, and tune into the present moment. Then, think of a question you would like to ask your Shadow, and silently speak it within your mind. Wait a few moments and see if you ‘hear’ or ‘see’ an answer. Record anything that arises and reflect on it. It is even possible to carry on a conversation with your Shadow using this method. Just ensure that you have an open mindset. In other words, don’t try to control what is being said, just let it flow naturally. You will likely be surprised by the answers you receive!

Visualization is another helpful way of engaging in inner dialogue. I recommend bringing to mind images of dark forests, caves, holes in the ground, or the ocean as these all represent the unconscious mind. Always ensure that you enter and exit your visualization in the same manner, e.g. if you are walking down a path, make sure you walk back up the path. Or if you open a particular door, make sure you open the same door when returning back to normal consciousness. This practice will help to draw you effortlessly in and out of visualizations.

7. Use the Mirror Technique

As we have learned, projection is a technique of the Shadow that helps us to avoid what we have disowned. However, we don’t only project the deeper and darker aspects of ourselves onto others, we also project our light and positive attributes as well. For example, a person may be attracted to another who displays fierce self-assertiveness, not realizing that this quality is what they long to reunite with inside themselves. Another common example (this time negative) is judgmentalism. How many times have you heard someone say “he/she is so judgmental!” Ironically, the very person saying this doesn’t realize that calling another person ‘judgmental’ is actually pronouncing a judgment against them and revealing their own judgmental nature.

The Mirror Technique is the process of uncovering our projections. To practice this technique, we must adopt a mindful and honest approach towards the world: we need to be prepared to own that which we have disowned! Being radically truthful with ourselves can be difficult, so it does require practice. But essentially, we must adopt the mindset that other people are our mirrors. We must understand that those around us serve as the perfect canvas onto which we project all of our unconscious desires and fears.

Start this practice by examining your thoughts and feelings about those you come in contact with. Pay attention to moments when you’re emotionally triggered and ask yourself “am I projecting anything?” Remember: it is also possible to project our own qualities onto another person who really does possess the qualities. Psychologists sometimes refer to this as “projecting onto reality.” For example, we might project our rage onto another person who is, in fact, a rage-filled person. Or we might project our jealousy onto another who genuinely is jealous.

Ask yourself, “What is mine, what is theirs, and what is both of ours?” Not every triggering situation reveals a projection, but they more than often do. Also, look for things you love and adore about others, and uncover the hidden projections there.

The Mirror Technique will help you to shed a lot of light onto Shadow qualities that you have rejected, suppressed, repressed, or disowned. On a side note, you might also like to read about a similar practice called mirror work which helps you to come face-to-face with your own denied aspects.

XII. Shadow Work Q&A

Here are some commonly asked questions about shadow work:

What is shadow work?

Shadow work is the psychological and spiritual practice of exploring our dark side or the ‘shadowy’ part of our nature. We all possess a place within us that contains our secrets, repressed feelings, shameful memories, impulses, and parts that are deemed “unacceptable” and “ugly.” This is our dark side or shadow self – and it is often symbolized as a monster, devil, or ferocious wild animal.

How to do shadow work?

There are many ways to practice shadow work. Some of the most powerful and effective techniques include journaling, artistically expressing your dark side (also known as art therapy), using a mirror to connect with this part of you (mirror work), guided meditations, exploring your projections, and examining your shadow archetypes.

What is the spiritual shadow?

There is light and darkness within all areas of life, and spirituality is not exempt. The spiritual shadow is what occurs when we fall into the traps of spiritual materialism – a phenomenon where we use spirituality to boost our egos and become arrogant, self-absorbed, and even narcissistic.

XIII. Shadow Self -Test

https://lonerwolf.com/shadow-self-test/

As passionate proponents of Shadow Work, we have created a free Shadow Self test on this website for you to take. Like any test, take it with a grain of salt and use your own analysis to ultimately determine how ‘dominant’ your Shadow is in your life. Please remember that tests online cannot be 100% accurate, so see it as a fun self-discovery tool. And note: those who receive a “small Shadow Self” answer still need to do Shadow Work. No person is exempt. ;)

XIV. Own Your Shadow and You Will Own Your Life

If you are looking for some serious, authentic and long-lived healing in your life, Shadow Work is the perfect way to experience profound inner transformation. Remember that what you internalize is almost always externalized in one form or another.

Own your shadow and you will own your life.

Here are some final inspiring words:

“The secret is out: all of us, no exceptions, have qualities we won’t let anyone see, including ourselves – our Shadow. If we face up to our dark side, our life can be energized. If not, there is the devil to pay. This is one of life’s most urgent projects. — Larry Dossey (Healing Words)”

“If we don’t change, we don’t grow. If we don’t grow, we are not really living. Growth demands a temporary surrender of security.” — Gail Sheehy

“Who has not at one time or another felt a sourness, wrath, selfishness, envy and pride, which he could not tell what to do with, or how to bear, rising up in him without his consent, casting a blackness over all his thoughts … It is exceeding good and beneficial to us to discover this dark, disordered fire of our soul; because when rightly known and rightly dealt with, it can as well be made the foundation of heaven as it is of hell. — William Law”

“To confront a person with his own shadow is to show him his own light. — Carl Jung”

#shadow work #shadow worker #shadowwork #shadowworking #shadow working #carl jung #jungean #carljung #light work #guide #how to do shadow work #how to be a shadow worker #shadow workers #healing #self healing #witch #witch shadow work #your shadow #shadow self #ego #self #self care #self taught #life #better living #holisitic

[mbti-notes]

Anon wrote: INFP with social anxiety here. I have a therapist but we're focusing on some other issues right now. In the meantime, I was wondering if you had some advice for me. I know you're not a professional (you say that multiple times in your posts) and of course I'm not asking you for a fix for my social anxiety with this - I'm just asking your help to understand what part my cognition could be playing in all of this cause I'm really curious.

Basically, my problem is the time frame right BEFORE I meet someone and, sometimes, immediately after. I don't really have problems socializing in the "middle", if you get what I mean; I'm easily adaptable and once I'm relaxed, once I realize no one is there to attack me, my mind starts getting ideas and I kind of know what to say, even though I'm a bit out of practice and I still have problems convincing other people of my emotions (like, mirroring their emotions so that they know I agree with them and stuff like that; for some reason they never ---believe me when I say it with words).

When I make plans, anyway, and I still haven't met the person, I get this anxiety: like I would rather stay home than go there because it's going to be "boring" and I'm probably going to feel like an idiot or make some sort of social gaffe. I mean, I do kinda get bored after a while anyway, but I also know I tend to overestimate that level of "future boredom" to the point it hurts me to even think about showing up and forcing myself to think of stuff I can-- say.

I get anxious because I start thinking about the way people used to treat me in the past (I've always been the black sheep of my family and/or my social circles and I vividly remember some bad things they used to say to me) and I start worrying that, deep down, they still think of me like that and they're never going to forget that "preconception of my identity" and open their eyes to who I am now, or I guess to who I've always been.

I do realize it doesn't make much sense, this "who I ----really am" part - but I've always had the impression that I was a bit different than the "me" they percieved, maybe because after many, many years of being accused of "selfishness" and "inability to tune in with the emotional atmosphere" I learned that in order not to ruin the "social mood" I should've adapted myself to the group - but the problems is that I suppressed "myself" in the meantime (and with myself I mean, like, my real interests, the things I'd like to talk about for ages without-- having to be interrupted or looked down on because, quote unquote, "ok, cool, but we don't really care").

I understand now that if they don't give me hints of actually caring about the subject I should stop rambling like a fool, but this is making me feel like I have nothing "useful" to offer them and therefore bringing the anxiety I'm struggling with. It makes me scared that I'll never be able to be myself around them because of the "social rules" I want to respect to be accepted, & to make----it worse I'm out of practice like I said before and sometimes it just gets too awkward and I want to get out of there.

I bet I'm doing something wrong because friendships and relationships in general are not supposed to be "boring", am I right? And yet until I don't get distracted by the actual conversation, I feel like it's going to be really boring and uncomfortable and sometimes going through it is SO horrible... most of the time I end up making up some excuse to go home earlier and talk----my internet friends instead (thank God for the internet!!!!). Anyway, thank you if you'll answer! And have a good summer vacation c:

-----------------------

The first thing I notice is that your thought process bears a very striking resemblance to many INFJs who struggle with social anxiety due to poor Fe development (see past posts). As a general rule, if I have good reason to suspect that someone might be mistyped, I won't provide info about function development until they undergo a proper type assessment. Otherwise, they might adopt the wrong method of improvement.

You say you want to understand what part your cognition plays in the social anxiety you experience, so I will mention the aspects of your cognition that seem most significant:

1) No Chill: You overthink things to an extreme, to the point of self-sabotage, perhaps even creating a self-fulfilling prophecy (i.e. when expecting the negative actually makes the negative happen). Overthinking means that you're not confronting the real obstacle getting in the way of your socializing. You're constantly trying to envision, imagine, or predict what will happen in a social interaction? WHY? What's the point of that overthinking? It's how you avoid confronting your fear head on.

2) Insecure: Your "predictions" are too often faulty because of being tainted by your underlying insecurities. You're insecure about being attacked, being accused, being misjudged, doing something wrong, being deemed of no value or unworthy of care, not being accepted or acceptable, dying of awkwardness, feeling bored, feeling uncomfortable, and on and on. You've described your thought process in detail. But nowhere do I see you confronting your insecurities, digging deeper into them, in order to understand the root of them. Insecurities are a manifestation of fear.

3) Control: Irrational anxiety is oftentimes about trying to control things that you shouldn't be trying to control or cannot have any control over - it wastes mental energy and leads to futile behavior. As long as you're trying to control social situations and their outcome, you are either trying too hard to make reality match up with your expectations or you're fumbling whenever reality unfolds outside of your expectations - you become rigid and frail. You claim to be "adaptable" but everything you say after that only proves you don't know the meaning of the word. You can't handle unpredictability, hence, the attempt to be in control by trying to "predict" everything. Do your attempts to control actually work? Do they help or hinder you? If they mostly hinder you, then isn't it time to change your strategy? Anxious people often believe that having more knowledge or control is the answer to their fear. But, in your case, the huge cost of being controlling is being incompetent. What's worse, the fear is still right there running the show.

4) Unresolved Trauma: You attribute your troubles to your past. Fair enough. Growing up in a social environment that did not respect and appreciate you is painful, even extremely traumatic for certain personality types. It also makes people too hungry for validation. It's natural that you wouldn't want to feel the pain of it again. However, if that pain remains unexamined and unresolved, you will unconsciously keep seeking to resolve it, which means re-enacting the trauma over and over again throughout life. The proof? Every time you meet someone, your first stance is defensive, because the first thing that comes into your mind is that you don't want to be attacked or invalidated. That old pain is running the whole show because you are deeply afraid of experiencing it again, yet you don't realize that YOU are the one calling it back up and rehashing it. What are you doing to resolve the pain rather than indulge the fear?

5) Self-absorbed: Social anxiety makes people too absorbed in their own thoughts, feelings, hopes, and expectations. They are too preoccupied with what they want, what will happen, how they will be perceived, how they might make a mistake, how they might be attacked, etc. This means they're not truly present with people, so the relationship can't really go far. Driven by fear and insecurity, they are always behind a wall, too difficult to reach.

Even if you happen to meet the right people, do you make it easy for them to befriend you? It seems that you can't open up with ease, you can't go with the flow of the other person when they don't live up to your expectations, you can't keep your emotions in check and misjudge situations, you get bored when it's not about you, you run away instead of making things better. Looking at yourself objectively from the outside, would you want to be friends with someone like that?

If you want to have good friends, you first have to BE a good friend. You want care, love, and validation? We all do. The best way to receive it is to be the first to give it. By being more aware of other people's needs and doing more to show that you care about them, you put them in a better position to care about you and meet your needs in return. This is the difference between actively trying to "make" a friend vs passively wishing for a friend to drop into your lap.

Being a friend isn't about what "value" you have, as though you're some kind of object being appraised and sold. Being a good friend is quite a simple matter of putting out the energy to care and show that you care. When you meet someone who's moved by your care, they will care for you in return. When you meet someone who's unmoved by your care, figure out the real reason why, in order to determine whether you should keep trying or put your energy elsewhere.

You never really know who you'll hit it off with. One of my favorite experiences in life is making a friend in the unlikeliest of places. As an adult, meeting new people is a numbers game. All you can do is keep pushing yourself to meet new people. The more people you meet, the greater the odds of clicking with someone. If you're looking to meet like-minded people, go to places that are likely to have people who share your interests. If you don't hit it off with someone, simply move along. You don't have to be friends with everyone, do you?

Yet, you take every little social interaction so seriously that each step is like life or death - that's what makes socializing tiring, laborious, and unfun. Why not enter into every social interaction with an open mind and an open heart? Why not truly go with the flow, without having to undergo the repetitive ritual of predicting what will happen or fussing over what did happen?

6) Poor Emotional Intelligence: This point is the common thread that runs through the previous points, which is why I keep repeating the word "fear". You have extremely low tolerance for negative feelings and emotions, which means you really need to work on learning how to deal with your emotional life better. Any little sign that things won't turn out the way you want and you start to panic, overthink, blame, or flee. Why do you recoil from yourself and your own feelings and emotions? Why are you so easily shaken by boredom, awkwardness, invalidation, failing, other people's negativity, etc? Why do you react so badly to these things (when others just brush it off and keep going)?

7) Low Self-Awareness: It's not enough to just name the fear ("I'm afraid of____"). Does the label explain why you have this particular fear and not some other fear? It's not enough to blame the past ("It's because of ____"). Why did someone else with a similar past as yours not develop this fear? To get to the root of fear, you have to identify, in exact terms:

what aspect of you has to change to overcome the fear

what aspect of your identity has to "die" (i.e. be let go of) in order to evaporate the fear

Until you answer the fear properly, it won't go away.

#social anxiety #anxiety #fear #emotional intelligence #mental health #ask

[infinitegalahad]

LIKE REAL PEOPLE DO (SNEAK PEAK)

Summary: Eugene was always there to let you that you were beautiful.

Warnings: PLEASE!! READ!!! Trigger warnings for eating disorder, insecurity, and lots of angst. But there is going be lots of fluff and some self care from your’s truly!

A/N: it’s time for self coping, my fitness. my eating disorder has been horrible lately and what better what to come then maladaptive daydreaming? not me writing a self insert for my bulimia and eugene roe comforting me because my ex-therapist told me to eat more (which totally solves all my problems)? ha! never. enjoy the little snippet! :D 

Taglist: @tvserie-s-world @easy-company-tradition @liebgotttme @50svibes @ricksmorty @pennyllanne @capsparkyspeirs

Your stomach growled and twisted as you hunched over the toilet, tears spilling from your eyes as you forcefully threw up the mass amount of food you had just eaten. Every bite felt like you were eating copious amounts of a forbidden fruit. It was your favourite, and you used to love eating (y/f/f) all the time-but now, you would barely keep it down.

Soon after eating, the guilt began to overtake your body. It was hard to ignore it as the warm feeling in your throat began to rise. It felt tingly and you had only one remedy on how to make it better-running to the bathroom and sticking a finger down your throat: watching everything come out as deformed and clunky.

Saliva dropped from your noses as you began to wipe it as tears streamed down your flushed face. The pain wasn’t ending, and you knew another round was set to come.

When you're a little girl, you didn’t think much of your body or how you looked. Little girls, or no child for the matter should have had to worry about what they looked like. But as you got older, the social norms and your body began to change. Other girls around you were thin, while you felt indifferent. You were made fun of not looking “thin”, which triggered a whole set of emotions. And so you took comfort in food, since it was the only thing that never judged you.

And yet food would soon become your enemy. You learned how to befriend, and also stab it in the back. Your relationship with food has formed into a minute where you could tolerate them, and then the other you had to get it out of your system. After eating meals, it became a habit for you to do so. Some days, you could tolerate being around it. Others, you would barely see if for days-if not weeks.

Your thoughts were overtaken by a large gulp in your throat, which resulted in the food you had binged coming out. Tears came from your eyes as you cried. What was wrong with you? Why couldn’t you just be normal and pretty? Why was life so unfair to you?

You are so lost in your own thoughts that you didn’t notice the bathroom door creak open and footsteps slowly approach your hunched figure. The pattern of the footsteps was already too familiar to you. Goosebumps went up your spine as you refused to look at him, embarrassed and guilted. Eugene was the last person you wanted to discover your monstrosity.

“Hey…” You managed to say, attempting to sound put together, which was the total opposite of what you currently where.

Eugene sunk down to your level and placed a hand on your back, rubbing small circles. Tears began to form at your eyes as you looked down, feeling it come again. Eugene grabbed your hair as you threw up, letting out a pained moan.

“I’m here, you’re okay,” Eugene cooed, letting you finish up. His soft accent was reassuring to you, but your heart rate increased. “Did it happen again?”

“Nothing is happening. I’m fine.” You lied, but knew that it was a shit lie and that Eugene was smart enough to see. He was your boyfriend and knew you better than anybody else did in the world-besides you.

“You’re not fine. Don’t lie to me, cher.”

You slowly move your head up to look at him. Eugene looks tired, and so do you. Your eyes are puffy from crying, cheeks red, lips quivering, goosebumps all over your skin, heavy breathing- a total mess. A pig is what you would refer to yourself as. The outfit you had worn today was too tight forming and showed off the parts of your body that you wanted the world not to see. You looked like a ugly rat in your eyes, the vision of a disfigured body clouding your vision.

Instead of using your words, you break down once again. Eugene is there to watch you, pulling you into him as you sob uncontrollably. You act like a child to its mother, clasping into Eugene for dear life as you stain his white shirt with tears. He doesn’t mind this since he loves you, and you know that. But how could he, someone so beautiful on the inside and out, be with someone like you-a slob? Eugene didn’t see you as any of the things you would describe yourself as, and you still couldn’t understand why he has chosen to stick around for four years (and counting).

“I’m sorry,” Is all you could cough through your tears. Eugene is running his hands up and down back, his fingers occasionally getting tangled in your hair as he straightens it out. He pulls you from his chest as he cups your face, tenderly pushing your loose hair behind your shoulders to get a better view of your pretty face.

Eugene caresses your cheeks, getting a feel of your soft (y/s/c). “No need to be. Jus’ wanna make sure your ok.”

“I’m not. I…” Letting out a frustrated sigh, the waterworks come back into play. Eugene, being the angel he is, stays quiet as his thumbs wipe the tears away. Gathering your words, you continue on, “I never have been. Look at me, I can’t control it. I don’t know what to do. I-“

“Hey, hey, hey. Your heart’s racin’, settle down.” Eugene reassured in a calming voice not to shut you up, but to calm you. Your skin is shaky and sweaty and your heart is banging against your ribcage. Eugene feels the guilt tug at his heart-he hates to see you in such a distressed state. “Let me help you. Here,”

Eugene slides his arms under your armpits and gently helps your up. Leading you to the living room, he places you on the couch as he runs to the kitchen to grab you a glass of water. He drops it out and pats you on the head before running back to the kitchen. You don’t want to drink, but Eugene would have a hissy fit if you didn’t. Reluctantly, you take a sip and swish it in your mouth before slowly gulping it.

Eugene returns a minute later with a cup of tea in his hand. He places in on the counter, putting a coaster under. Looking down, you can smell the sweetness. It’s your favourite; an orange spice with a dab of honey.

“Drink up ‘dat wata’ before you drink the tea. You’ll fell more refreshed after, and the tea will help with the dryness in your throat,” Eugene explained. He admired you as he placed a hand on your shoulder, rubbing circles into them. As you drank your water, you forced a smile and put your hand on top of yours.

“Angé, I’m worried ‘bout you,” Eugene confessed, “You look sad, and when you’re sad-I’m sad.”

“Genie, please,” Is all you could mutter to say. “I can take care of myself. I’ve been dealing with this all my life. It’ll go away in a few hours, and I’ll be all smiles again. I promise.”

Eugene still feels guilty. He’s been around sister’s, older and younger to know what your problem is. The vomiting, the excuses, the insecurity, everything was adding up. What had saddened Eugene is that it was a lifelong issue, and it had gone untreated, and had progressively gotten worse.

“I don’t need you to force yourself to be happy. I want to help you ‘cause I love you, ma douce beauté.”

“But-“

Eugene placed a sweet kiss into your hair, “No. You stay ‘ere, docter’s orders. I’ll be right back.”

“Eugene-“

As he began to walk away, he turned around with a smile and pointed fingers. “What did I say?”

You put a finger down in defeat as you laid back, sipping on your tea. Hearing his footsteps fade into the bathroom and the water running, the tension from your shoulders disappeared as the sweet honey in the tea eased the frustration in your body. Doctor's orders, after all.

#eugene roe #band of brothers #band of brothers x reader #band of brothers imagine #eugene roe x reader #eugene roe imagine #wips

[englacial]

A Warm Goodbye or A Message for the Future

I haven’t been active here in more than a year which is mostly by accident but also quite purposeful. I had intended to remain in the RP community but as is evident by my many returns, disappearances, and moments of unreliability, this is a chapter of my life that has come to an end. I say this with an abundance of love for what writing here has given me and also with renewed knowledge of what that progression has looked like for me. This community has been amazing and it has also been devastating for me at times. I have also played a role in that devastation and wasn’t always the best version of myself (and I’m still not). 

COVID certainly threw my life into turmoil and unearthed a lot.

In December of last year I went through a mental health crisis that landed me in patient for a brief period and also lead me to the deepest and most accurate understanding of my mental health I’ve ever contended with. Through the process of finding a new therapist experienced with dissociative disorders, I was diagnosed with DID and my whole life suddenly made sense. 

The ups and downs, the identity confusion, the loss of time and deep misunderstandings of situations I was faced with suddenly made sense in their entirety. Many gaps have been filled simply by working on this in therapy and it has forced me to reflect on my time in the RP community and how I’ve interacted with fellow writers, both good and bad. It’s also made it incredibly difficult to let go of this account and writing because for me, it was often the only opportunity I had to express myself as me. Roleplaying was an excuse to be a different person, an easy cover for what was actually occurring in our life. I haven’t always known how to do that nor did I fully grasp why OCs felt more like me than me (surprise! they’re me). There were times when my self-expression was really self-injurious and that is painful but necessary for me to realize and acknowledge. Trauma changes the ecosystem of the human body in upsetting and ugly ways. More than anything, I was escaping the recognition that in refusing to heal, I was often doing harm to myself and others.

Fundamentally, I was seeking human connection where I had been denied it and we were playing out parts and trauma we were forced to keep hidden. For me, DID is about multiple traumas I have faced and the way my body chose to cope with it. It means a lot for what my childhood looked like and the incredible survival tools necessary for me to grow into an adult.

When I first started roleplaying on tumblr I was just 13 years old. I’m now 24 and have so much still to learn. I knew I was different growing up. I knew I had experienced pain. I knew I had difficulties expressing myself. I didn’t know I had DID or why there was so much confusion crowding my experiences online and in, truly, the only space I was able to fall into away from the ongoing turmoil in my life. I went by many different names, played many different characters, and made many different friends but this was difficult and I was not always kind. Frequently there were dissociative barriers that presented as amnesia and compartmentalized selves that in DID are called alters. The consistency with which I was forgetting myself, my actions, and people I’d met was a major detriment and it also enabled adults in the community to take advantage of and use me. The RP community was the stage for which many people with more life experience than myself, hurt me as a child. As I remained in the community, I began growing into a very dysfunctional adult and a part of that was to hide from my past in the community and parts of myself I didn’t recognize or accept as being me (collective). It is very difficult to contend with actions you don’t remember and I was not ready to take accountability for what I did as a scared and hurt child and what I was running from as an equally scared and hurt adult.

Mental health has always been important to me. I have talked at length about being a survivor of CSA, trafficking, and other forms of abuse and neglect. I have talked about my struggles with PTSD and depression. Despite this I was still not healing. Acknowledgement of mental health only does so much if the process of actually healing is not accessible to you.

My biggest takeaway from the long term, trauma informed therapy I have started is that I really didn’t know what healing looked like until I not only had an accurate assessment of what the problem was but accepted it and stopped hiding from it. This is difficult with DID. It is designed to operate in the background. Not knowing precisely your own experience, not having all of your memories is a way to conceal pain, not confront it. Working with myself as a system has been the most fundamental building block in actually healing, in actually accepting my trauma, in accepting how my trauma lead me to being dysfunctional in my relationships and in how I interacted with the people I cared about. Before I started doing this, it was easy to distance myself from my own actions. I did not remember them, I believed it was another person (because often it was, though this does not distance the actions from myself), and I thought I could just move away from it because it was not representative of me. That’s just not true. System accountability demands that I confront in myself the ways that not holding myself accountable lead to harm caused. In the RP community, I have been antagonistic of others. I have concealed my identity when confronted with actions of my past that I did not remember. As a child I lied about my age to the appeasement of adults in my circle at the time who were grooming me and as a result people connected to me were hurt when I moved away from them as someone else entirely. So much happened in this community and with people I met that it was foundational in how I learned to cope (for better or worse) and how I carried myself going forward. The accounts I had here were more real than life to me. That for me was a dysfunction. I was hurt as much as I caused hurt and this carried over when people recognized me but I didn’t recognize them or I was pressed for information and suddenly realized I was multiple people. It happened so many times here that I don’t blame anyone for feeling distanced from me, hating me, feeling hurt by me. My sense of self was fragmented and so was my sense of my actions. As it comes together more clearly, I understand now that as much as I have faced harassment in this community and my share of hatred and vitriol, I contributed to it as well.

In order to truly say goodbye, I feel I must also directly hold myself accountable for harm caused by my actions while I shared space here.

I made friends who were hurt in the crossfire of my search for self, whose trust I broke and whose boundaries I did not respect. I don’t think I can ever directly apologize to these people for what transpired between us but I do understand with specificity what actions of mine lead to the dissolution of our friendship and the hurt that they felt as a result. Those things weren’t ok. Being aware of the circumstances that lead to them does not excuse them and I am sorry. For many years I was a steamroller of uncertainty and of cyclical harm.

What I want and what I want for others is happiness.

Happiness to me is getting to experience the full breadth of human emotion while living under a stable community that is providing all of the basic necessities such as food, water, shelter, and materials to create goods and explore creative talents while simultaneously getting to share all of these things with everyone else inside the system. Being connected to others while having your needs met, is the only form of life that makes sense and for two full decades of my life, I did not have this. Many others don’t either.

Systematic abuse and denial of resources is something that follows people within their muscle memory patterns, nervous system, and within neurological pathways inside of their brain. People with dissociative amnesia are often among the most exploited because they were never given the tools to continue to build memory recall. When they are given all of these tools, we find that overtime they will continue to get better at recalling their lives and experiences, people they have met, and food they have eaten, joys they’ve shared. The brain is a muscle that retains everything that happens to it. It is incredibly absorbent and elastic. If something happens to it, it will remember. For people who have been systematically harmed, especially over extended periods of time, this can cause extremely difficult issues with memory recall. Eventually, these memories can return but it means removing people from systems of harm not by force but by replacing them with healthy and bustling systems that can offer them the love, tools, support, and nourishment for their body that they need.

Systemic malnourishment especially through resource denial under capitalism is a major contributor to this problem. Chronic dehydration’s link to memory problems, to name one example, is well documented. The issue with this even when people have access to all of that information is that they don’t have the reflexive memory abilities to continue to nourish themselves and be well. More and more these people and communities impacted by this kind of harm will seek refuge in accessibility (positive). If the tools are right in front of them surrounded by a multitude of people and supportive communities, they will have a much easier time remembering. Grounding is incredibly important even once outside of a system of harm because recall ability is a learned skill. People who have experienced repeated and/or prolonged abuse and harm (including systematic abuse like racism, homophobia, transphobia, et al.) have a much more difficult time learning and retaining this ability which contributes to the formation of dissociative disorders like DID.

The memories are still there, but it’s extremely difficult to begin to unravel that mystery when they are among the most likely to forget to remember. Recollecting memories is not only difficult for them, it is something their body has reflexively protected them against so that they can continue to survive in ongoing systems of harm.

When they continue to reproduce systems of harm, it is because they have been systematically gatekept from their needs and the healthy communities that can meet those needs from birth.

In order to help people suffering from dissociative barriers in terms of DID/OSDD, it is of utmost importance to continue to care for them as a collective so that they can then go on to care for themselves and give back to communities that they may have unknowingly harmed (this includes caring for yourself). It’s important to look inside of these communities and the conditions they’ve been living in with love and support. Sometimes the conditions are bad because they are incapable of caring for themselves after previous caretakers have abandoned them. 

Many people with dissociative disorders come from families who were absent for the majority of their lives even if they were living under the same roof. Sometimes these families will have noticed their child’s behavior, questioned where it came from and then find the answers are unexpected and daunting to take on. When faced with the question of whether or not their own child is safe to continue loving as a result, they will often continue to recreate systems of harm or are told by healthcare professionals to do things with their children that are not healthy for them which can on its own become traumatic.

The environments that dissociative disorders result from are very difficult to navigate. If you suspect you or someone you know is dealing with a dissociative disorder, it is important to keep in mind the circumstances endured that might have contributed. 

We cannot always be the protectors, we cannot always shield people from harm, we cannot always stop them from causing harm themselves, but an increased awareness and understanding looking in can help considerably. 

People with dissociative disorders are at high risk of being repeatedly groomed and harmed because of the nature of the disorders. They deserve the protection and security to fully form and emote as a human being without being harmed again, and when they themselves cause harm it is important to understand why this is happening and it is necessary when they realize that something is harmful that those behaviors and beliefs are replaced with new ones that are healthy, constructive, and more reflective of what they want. With dissociative and amnesiac barriers, this can become complicated but it is mandatory for system growth and healing.

Preventing harm starts in recognizing where it lives inside of ourselves.

To finish this post, I would like to share some poems that myself and others in my system wrote regarding our experience with DID:

Each time it happened I became another person But they always found me I tried my best to explain I’m still me but I need to be safe And no one listened I tried to show don’t tell I tried to scream it out loud Then I tried to forget it completely They always found me The caretaker inside of me was a flame I was forced to keep lit Sometimes kindness could not touch his flame The child hungered for a hand to hold but was held back from exploration No one told me I was we I had to dissect myself over and over in a lab that I created Now that I love myself Who is here to rejoice? -Beck

In my dreams I see a giant machine That I pilot I step inside my circuits Firing As a connection blooms to life I feel each part creak and crack As they move away and step forward The joints protest with disuse but Life bursts to turn on Twinkling lights of Motherboard parts that Illuminate metal I become like the moving backdrop to the stars a Galaxy swirling into A robot

Suddenly I feel afraid Am I just stitched together scraps that someone rescued from the crash? Am I the real deal? Or are my thoughts Synthetic projections onto a reality of my past that I’m just parts and not You Not Whole But wait I love the parts I Love the robot I see them woven together like A junkyard dragon that Soars overhead as a beacon of glittering silver held together by Intricate threads closer to a Kite Than heavy metal Something else entirely The machine cannot be confined to this earth It transcends infinitely It is life sometimes more than living -Aspen

I remember when I was small and I was running Through flowers Through mazes I remember when I was small and my palms would catch hold of blades of grass to brace my fall I remember being so small the ground would swallow me up Puddles like looking glasses That I dip into and Sink down to the bottom The boats crossing overhead While I swim I remember when the world was small and I was big Looking down at towns moving below Hiding in the ceiling as The room moves -Hannah

I have danced on the graves of relationships cast aside Pretending they were temples and not places of pain I am not the same ghost who haunts there Though some would see it in my face and hear it in my Disembodied voice Telling them I’m So over it... While the tears still sting I don’t visit their headstones anymore but the remnants of offerings I’ve made with Sweat/Blood Still linger like the bitter taste of Wine sipped in your honor or that I pour out at the soil marking where you left or where we stumbled A place you tried to bury me, too I don’t leave you to rest in peace I leave so I can -Jana

I see the revolving door of Our mind Many stepping in to walk through Sometimes more than one and It’s great I talk to them They’re my friends They go to work They wave and smile at me But I don’t step on Something inside of me holds me in place Afraid of the Spinning wheel Often I step on and just get Spun right out or I say the wrong things on the other side I don’t have the best reputation Some would say “She lies,” or “She’s so aggressive!” They see my teeth bared in anger and My arms folded over my chest to Conceal the soft spot under my armor where a spear might pierce They see me like a beast whose eyes glow red They do not know that the Wolf isn’t just a part of me and that I’m the monster they’ve seen There are others who have set fire to my path Concealing the tracks that reveal Villages I’ve been to Living peacefully before the Wolf leaps out and disrupts them Many people got too close or They hurt too personally and I took the blame for the abandonment and pain looking at a legacy where A scared kid devastated other scared kids I cleaned up after them and I Built my defenses to Hide them

She is like the Moon A part of her is always hidden

I bound these words into myself like A spirit possessed to make everyone else the Ghost So many people caught in the crossfire of Escaping abuse All of it is ugly I was built to chase things off The Wolf Creeping around the concrete walls as The Woman in the Maze Defending its center with Medusa’s untrained gaze A specter of someone loved and Incapable of telling them while Slipping further and further away from material safety The hurt doesn’t excuse the hurt Every move I make opens Old wounds that others have healed or forgotten but I’m still carrying If the women I’ve loved were all one person they too would Be like the moon Parts hidden or Omitted Because it’s easy to forget how They hurt me because I was a girl who loved girls -Jana

Some have said I was the first to look out over the edge and into the expanse of unknowns below without fear And I ache when they’re not right Being unafraid of dying is different than being unafraid of Death I know I’ve imagined myself there Not even as a last resort Thinking maybe this will be fun to try I’ve seen myself with my toes curling over ledges for purchase Tightrope walking the line between here and jumping Romanticizing the strength it would take to Let myself fall or Climb down the rope To meet Death again Her face kind enough for me to feel regret for a split second before Rebirth I’m not afraid of Death But the truth is I was never gazing over a ledge more than The bowl of the toilet Vomiting Closer to death on the bathroom floor Naked and feeble Than I was in imagined leaps of faith See, I still fear dying and no... I wouldn’t be the first Even in our family Death has our list pulled up and Our numbers on speed dial I think she’s watched me on my hands and knees mopping up blood and just Tapped her watch “Are we done with this? I have somewhere to be.” But that voice wasn’t her nor the tapping it was A mother sick of waiting for me to get ready for school or a counselor unflinching when I say I’ve watched friends die Until eventually there was just never enough time for dying and though I visited the ledge frequently in my mind and explored the chasm down in search I forgot about my body Nothing left to harm if I am In between here and there Then it just became what sacrifices I could make How I could fantasize about martyrdom and Sail forward into the pitch As someone else’s hero when Still I was just Killing myself What an unexpected turn for The Hero and yet I see it all the time These visions of divine masculinity Achilles in Hades All point towards her again Death’s hands firmly grasping his as he Dies for his friends like a valiant flame extinguished and Everyone weeps His devastation saving them... That was what I stacked myself up against Thinking the only service I could give to those I love was My life in its entirety Which is why I’m not The Hero I’m the Leader, the Counselor, the Friend, the Lover I’m pulling myself away from steps taken towards a drop because Unity is not forged by Taking a leave of absence but by Seeing pain in others and Not thinking you have to live for them Only wanting to survive with them Envisioning futures where you thrive with or without them knowing that The way you believed solidarity was Shared suffering and not Shared community in times of suffering Was a cowardice you will live to outgrow Now strength looks like pulling weeds for a garden Packing up boxes Reminding yourself to stretch or Focusing on your breathing as it guides you down into A hollow part of your body An energy tightening there and fanning out slowly as Intention Replacing the visions of a ledge with Floating Swimming out into a peaceful place inside of you and Breathing in again Calm and of course I wouldn’t deceive you The ledge is still a place I go to and Look down like scrying into Death’s vastness and I cry too It was never funny It was never beautiful Those are lies told to me and you The bones on the bathroom floor were me and even when I rattled No one answered -Tristan

When we love we love together I have never been a singular Inside me there are waves rippling on the shore Formative memories distorted and abstracted with each crash of foam against ground up trash I hear a knocking on the wall of our beach house as if a ghost hides inside When things happen I don’t understand I ask about the real children in the closets like me that I can’t touch Are they scared inside too? I see your eyes go glossy when you remember yours I want to ask about what about where and whom I want to know you’re like me I’m sorry I didn’t know that it was painful -Tristan

I want to tell you that you don’t have to be afraid But there are places you are no longer allowed This is so I can heal and not because I am protecting you I want to show my thoughtfulness The things I see in you The joy That joy hibernates inside me too The winter brings us closer together Generational trauma sprawled on a frigid map yet so cramped for a bedroom that gives me glimpses of the past Sitting cross legged on green carpet while I play games I pretend are me All my heroes have no gender No voice No face Please see me It is the greatest love I’ve ever known -Beck

I want all of our friends old and new to know: we are safe, loved, and cared for. Thank you for the memories and the systems of love you introduced to our life. We love and thank you. You met us without knowing and we felt seen here and this helped us to accept ourselves as a system. -Tristan (yes, really)

[94monkeys]

November, December and January were the worst months of my life that started out as the best months of my life. I am better, but I’m still not okay.

CW: death (not mine), medical stuff (no gore), emergency room experience

The first week of November was the election we’d been building up to, frankly, 4 years. I was basically eating, sleeping, breathing work from mid-August until the election, and then for several days after until we got the result that we wanted.

The second week in November, I found out I was pregnant. We were shocked and thrilled. (It was intentional but it was still, like, surprising that it actually worked???)

Turn back now because it only gets worse from here.

The third week in November, I find out I’m getting laid off. I was given a lot of reasons, none of which made sense, but basically a casualty of office politics way over my head. I was told that it wasn’t performance related, but it still felt brutal to have to do this after pouring myself into work. I’ve been laid off before, and it’s always a cold experience. You remember that your company only cares about you to a degree, and at the end of the day, they will always protect themselves and not you. I personally don’t understand why you would replace a professional with two part-time dilettantes on your public facing communications BUT ANYWAY!

I was asked to stay through the beginning of January and I accepted.

The fourth week in November was Thanksgiving. We were home about to make dinner for 2 (COVID). During the day, I started to feel sick and crampy. I called the urgent care nurse line and they told me to go to the ER. I live very close to a hospital, so I literally packed my biggest warmest sweatshirt and a book and walked there, leaving my spouse and the turkey still in the oven (luckily that was his purview anyway).

The ER was, surprisingly, very quiet. I was there for about 4 hours while they ran various tests on me. (They had to call a specialist in from their Thanksgiving dinner, which I felt terrible about.) Ultimately, they could not determine whether I had miscarried or not, so they sent me home with instructions to take it easy and to go in for more testing.

In December I had a doctor’s appointment where they confirmed that I was not pregnant any more. (The tech was very cold and impersonal… I was crying on the ultrasound table. I know that it was so early, but I was crying for myself and my spouse and the dreams we had invested that never came to be. I was sad because this was our first time, and it was so terrible, and we won’t ever have a first one.)

They flagged something in my blood tests that was troubling, so they ordered regular testing. I was going in about 3 times a week for blood draws. Luckily I’m not scared of needles so it was more annoying than anything.

I was also applying to and interviewing for jobs (without success) and also still working at my job where I felt literally invisible. It was a really dark time. I don’t know how else to describe it. I don’t know how I got out of bed every day. It felt like everything in my life had just collapsed at once. I didn’t feel unwell, but it was just like a big weight dragging me down all the time.

In the 3rd week of December, I had another ultrasound and then met with a new to me doctor, I’ll call her Dr. S. I had been going along with all the additional bloodwork, but I was starting to push back on why it was necessary.

It was a Friday afternoon when Dr. S met with me and said: We think that you have an ectopic pregnancy. I didn’t know, but I would soon learn that this was a pregnancy that was not in the right place, would not grow, but could rupture and kill me. She recommended surgery to address it.

Okay, I said. I had the next week off, so I assumed it would be either that week, or in January while I was funemployed (but still had my good health insurance).

I was thinking this weekend, said Dr. S.

So it was that I went to a Friday doctor’s appointment and found myself signing into surgery on Saturday morning.

It was my first ever surgery with anesthesia, and everyone took great care of me, but it was still EXTREMELY disconcerting. I had laparoscopic surgery so I only have 2 teeny scars, but I was in a lot of pain and confused when I woke up.

Work was closed all week, so I basically spent the whole week sitting in 1 chair in my apartment either watching movies or reading. I didn’t want to get into all the details with people, because a) 2020 was already so… 2020, b) I was still nominally job-hunting and I didn’t want to give anyone a dumb surface reason not to hire me or make them think I was a pregnancy flight risk (I love being a woman of a certain age!), c) I just didn’t want to talk about it. On the other hand, almost no one at work checked on me. I found their treatment very cold, again.

In January I put myself together for my last week at work, we had the runoff elections, we had the coup. I had my surgery follow-up where it was confirmed that it was an ectopic pregnancy. That was my January: medical follow-ups, but at least I don’t have to schedule them around the job I no longer have!  

WHEW. If you’ve gotten this far, thank you for hearing me. I have since gotten a new job working on communications for politics, but also nonprofits and city agencies. My stress has been cut by probably 70 percent. In my job I’m doing a lot more writing, which is probably what enabled me to write this long overdue update with most of everything in it.

We are starting to explore our fertility options. I had a doctor that really catastrophized me in terms of how intense we need to go about it, but likely we will start slowly and see how it goes. They still don’t know why I had an ectopic (and probably won’t figure out), but I am at higher risk of having another one, so any potential pregnancy will involve a lot of testing and monitoring. That’s why we haven’t “started” “trying” again, because there are tests and there is my new job and so on. I had a hysterosalpingogram, which you should definitely Google if you’re not squeamish. (It didn’t hurt but it was totally weird!)

I am better, but I’m not OK. I’m still mad about everything that happened to me. There are moments when I get catapulted back to my surgery and everything, and I completely freeze. I just got my doctors’ records from November and December (which I had to pay $35 for!!! MY OWN RECORDS) and even though I didn’t learn anything new from reading those records, I still had a lot of emotional trouble processing what happened. It’s weird that so many of them start by noting that the patient was “not in acute distress.” Must be an automatic fill-in because that doesn’t match what I was feeling ever!!!

Dr. S literally saved my life and I think what was not clear to me at the time, because I was still mourning what could have been, is that I am still here. I am more than everything that happened to me. 

I am looking for a new therapist and I am trying to look on the bright side. Unfortunately, one of my oldest friends in the world endured a similar health issue back in January; fortunately, we are each other’s best comfort because I know she won’t judge me. This summer may bring good news on this front or maybe not, but at least vaccinated we can do more than we have been able to do (picnics in the park! Visits to family!) I have to believe my luck is turning. It’s how I get by.

#very long life update #you know it's good if there's a cut #cw: death #cw: depression #cw: medical

[the-hopeless-haze]

Somebody Hurt Me Too Deep (Being Alive Ch 14)

Previous Chapter

A/N: I AM BACK omg ok like I’ve been through it in the last month..... yeah. This was of course based on “Being Alive” but also “champagne problems”... thank Taylor Swift for any emotional distress I cause :)

CW: talks of mental illness, brief mentions of past trauma and car accidents

Taglist (thank u all for reading ily): @caked-crusader @thatesqcrush @law-nerd105 @blackeyedangel9805 @moon-river-drifter @the-baby-bookworm @dianilaws @xecq @lv7867 @arabellathorne  @teddybluesclues​ @averyhotchner​ @houseofthirst​

“Carino? I’m home,” Rafael says as he steps through the apartment door, placing his briefcase down on the recliner. It was only 3pm, early for him to be finished with work for the day, but he had been getting out earlier recently to accompany you to physical therapy appointments. You were doing well, at least physically. It had been a long six weeks, but today might be the appointment that cleared you to go back to work full-time and maybe get out from behind the desk a little.

Mentally, though, it was a mixed bag. Some days were easier than others, and that was to be expected, but it was hard to tell the squad you were doing better when you couldn’t even bring yourself to text them back. Still, he pleaded otherwise, said every day was a new day and carried on even if they didn’t believe him.

Today, though, today was the turning point, he could feel it. You were doing so well, and eventually, your brain would have to catch up with your body. So tonight, he booked a reservation at a restaurant… not any restaurant, but the Cuban restaurant he took you to the night you asked him out and he barely used your first name and he swore he hated you with nearly every fiber of his being.

Right. As if he hated you even then.

You’re in a good mood, albeit not as elated as he hoped, but the physical therapist approves you for work but to “take it easy” and you’re laughing at his wry remarks and squeezing his hand in the back of the taxi on the way to the restaurant. His nerves almost dissipate, but they don’t. And maybe that should’ve been his first sign that tonight was not going to go as planned.

Rafael was never a superstitious man, but you order the same dish you ordered the first time he took you out, and he can’t help but think this is a sign to push forward.

“Oh, fuck it,” Rafael murmurs, a surge of anxiety overcoming him. “I was going to wait until after dinner… but…. I have something I want to ask you.”

And just like that, your face falls, but Rafael can barely take that in, he just keeps talking, his mouth moving faster than the neurons in his brain that tell him to stop, now isn’t a good time.

“I love you so much, (y/n), and I know these past few months have been so hard, and this isn’t the way either of us have wanted this year to start, but… we got through it together. I never thought I’d be in a position in my life, with someone who I love… that I’d be willing to do this, but… (Y/n)... will you marry me?”

You don’t say anything for a few seconds, but it feels like hours, days, months. “Can you get up off the floor, Rafael? You’re embarrassing us,” you finally say hollowly, and it’s true, the whole restaurant is stopped in their tracks staring at the two of you. Rafael couldn’t possibly care less, though, he couldn’t comprehend anything that was going on - he was just thinking “well, she hasn’t said no…” and then you’re getting up, throwing your napkin on the table, shaking your head, saying “I can’t do this.”

Rafael gains some of his senses back, enough to follow you outside into the tempering late February air. “Do you want to talk about it?”

“No, Rafael, I don't,” you say stiffly without turning around to face him. “I’ll get my stuff in the morning. I need to be alone right now.”

“I just… I didn’t know you weren’t happy,” Rafael says, his voice breaking, and that gives you enough impetus to turn around.

“You didn’t know I wasn’t happy? Goddamn, Rafael, do you even live with me? I’ve been unhappy for months.”

“Then why didn’t you say anything?”

“Why didn’t you know?”

“Jesus, (y/n), maybe because I’m not a fucking mind reader?”

“Right. You honestly thought we were in a good enough place to propose tonight?”

“Obviously! Or I wouldn’t have done it!” he snaps. “You honestly think we’re in a bad enough place that you couldn’t say yes?”

“Obviously! Or I would have done it!” you throw his words back at him, and god do they sting.

“You never told me anything. You just withdrew.”

“Yeah. Maybe that should’ve been a sign. Look. I’m moving back home. I was going to tell you tonight.”

“What? Is that all it was? (Y/n), if you want to move back, I could work something out--”

“No. No, you can’t, Rafael. You’ve never been able to work anything out in your life because you’re too scared to! You just operate on fear - and this is no exception. You thought I was going to die six weeks ago and that’s the only reason you’ve been acting this way, and I’ve been slipping away recently and you’ve just been trying to consistently deny it so you just get on one knee and think that’s going to solve everything, think that’s going to make me stay. That’s not how it works! I’m not happy. I need to go home.”

“Oh no. You know what it is? You’re afraid. Don’t try to put this on me. You’re the one who’s walking away. You’re the one who’s running back home.”

“Fuck you, Rafael. Your family is all here. Mine isn’t. My brother’s getting a job for the first time, my mom just got on disability, I miss my dad… I’ve spent too long here. I’ve spent too long with you.”

“What happened? What the fuck happened?”

“What the fuck happened every other time, Rafael? You’ve gone through this plenty of times before.”

Rafael scoffs, shakes his head, leans against the outside of the restaurant. “You’re unbelievable.”

“I’m fucking sick, Rafael!” you’re screaming now, your cheeks turning red, your eyes leaking angry tears. “All this time, since the accident, I’ve been fucking drowning and you didn’t even notice!”

“Sick?”

“Depressed, Rafael. Anxious. Liv wanted me screened before I came back and the therapist said so. AGain. For the fucking umpteenth time in my life. But this time, I thought I had someone who cared--”

“How the fuck was I supposed to know if you didn’t tell me?”

“Couldn’t you see?”

Rafael shakes his head slowly, but now it comes back to him, all these subtle signs, the days you wouldn’t make it out of bed until 3 pm, all the days and nights you spent staring listlessly at the walls, the inability of anything he said or did to make you feel better. But it came and went, and Rafael just took it as you being upset sometimes at the limitations placed on you by your injured leg. Never did he think there was something more serious going on. Or maybe he just didn’t want to think that, and he ignored every signal.

“I’m sorry, (y/n),” he whispers, but he knows that’s too little, too late. Both of you were at fault - that was clear to him now - but was it clear to you? “I really didn’t know.”

“Evidently,” you mutter, crossing your arms over your chest.

“But you can get help. We can work this out.”

“I just… Rafael. I’m not ready. You of all people should have some sympathy for that.”

Ouch. You were going for the jugular now, hurting him where only you could, rejecting his proposal, leaving him crestfallen on one knee in the middle of a restaurant, but somehow your words hurt worse. Anyone could reject a proposal. Only you could psychoanalyze him and hurl the worst remarks his way, things no one else would be able to come up with.

“Then okay,” he sighs. “We won’t get married yet, or ever, if that’s what you want. But you really want to throw this away entirely?”

“I don’t know, Rafael. I don’t. Look, I’m sorry too. I just… I can’t deal with this right now.”

“Do you think… do you think maybe--”

“I don’t know,” you say firmly. “I don’t even know if I really want to go back home. I just know I don’t want to live like this anymore, just waiting for the other shoe to drop.”

“But it isn’t going to drop. I just fucking proposed. I’m in this for the long haul. And fuck it, if you want to go back home, I’ll work it out.”

“This fake optimism isn’t you.”

“This lack of optimism entirely isn’t you! What happened to the woman who got through some of the worst shit imaginable and landed on her own two feet? You got into a car accident, (y/n). You lived! You should be thankful, not sitting here sulking like your world’s gone to shit.” Again, his mouth moves too fast to register the look on your face as it falls, and tears start to stream down your face. He can’t stop but push it further, hurt you in retaliation.

“Seriously, Rafael, how insensitive can you be? I tell you I’m struggling and you invalidate my feelings? Fuck off.”

“I didn’t mean--”

“Why’d you say it then? You know what, I’m done. Goodbye, Rafael.”

“But--”

“No. Give me space. You owe me that.”

He does. And god, it hurts to watch you walk away, his abuelita’s ring burning a hole in his pocket when it should be on your finger. But maybe.... maybe this isn't the end. Maybe all you need is space.

Maybe Rafael's wishing on a pipe dream. He doesn't know anymore. All he knows is the sting of this pain.

-----

You walk alone in the dark, your leg still aching slightly, and you just feel like utter shit. You can’t remember ever feeling quite this low, but you can’t remember feeling rage like this, either. No one’s hurt you like Rafael.

But that’s because you loved him enough to let him.

You still love him even now, but spending day in and day out with him coddling you, you couldn’t handle it. And maybe you should’ve acted like an adult and told him and stopped pretending everything was fine when you knew it wasn’t. If only you weren’t so fucked in the head, right? Just how it always went, your life, cycles of feeling fine and cycles of feeling like you’re scraping at the bottom of a barrel for a will to go on. And yeah, sometimes even you would question why you were taking this so hard - so what, it’s a car accident, you were lucky to have lived - but Rafael didn’t understand and you didn’t know how to make him. How were you going to get in a passengers seat again without having a panic attack? Would your leg ever fully heal? You’d wasted six weeks staring at the walls of Rafael’s apartment, doing menial paperwork for Olivia that anyone could have done. How could you not feel entirely worthless? And then for Rafael to make it seem like you were overexaggerating like you should just get over this… you hated him.

But you didn’t, really. You know deep down he’s just angry the night didn’t go the way he wanted it to, with you promising to be his for the rest of your life. Still, rage is a truth serum of sorts, like cheap wine, and it makes you wonder how deep that resentment runs. How could he not notice you were upset, though? That’s a hell of a blind eye to turn.

At least back home you had Ben if nothing else.

But here, you had everything else. The squad, your career, Rafael… You couldn’t even begin to think about marriage right now - Lord knows Rafael isn’t ready either - but did you really want to throw in the towel? How do couples move past a rejected proposal, though? Hadn’t you hurt him deeper than anyone else could have? And would he ever figure out how to propose again?

Maybe to someone else, you think, someone who didn’t have all these fucking issues.

Before you know it, you have a cigarette in your mouth and a lighter in hand and you’re leaning against the side of a convenience store, watching girls walk by in stilettos hanging on to their men or giggling with their group of friends, the taxis blurring past. Then you realize you broke the first promise you made to Rafael: you bought cigarettes in New York.

Had he really wanted to collect on that promise? It wasn’t like you were addicted, it was just a stupid habit you started in high school to take the edge off, but you supposed some people had the inclination to start and never stop, but you always could when you wanted to.

Your vice wasn’t cigarettes, no, it was love. You gave all you could to whoever would take it because you were so used to people wanting nothing to do with you since you isolated yourself due to your past trauma. Once you got to college, you refused to hide in the background, and you took chances you weren’t used to taking and loved in color, you loved until it made you blue when the boys would cheat or your so-called friends would find different cliques.

You were still like that, albeit in so much a desperate way, and you had been loved in return, now, not just by Rafael but by the squad too - even if you had your squabbles. You loved them to death and back.

But friends were easier to keep than lovers.

Maybe it is scary to think Rafael was going to be the end. That he’d be the last man you ever kissed in love or passion. That you’d be the last woman standing in his long list of ex-lovers - the only one who didn’t get crossed off.

How do you love someone that much? You always said you wanted that, but the thought always terrified you anyway, and maybe it’s why you did push people away when they felt too close because you felt like you didn’t deserve it, like you were still atoning for some sin you didn’t remember committing but you still feel guilty for all the same. You wonder if Rafael feels just as guilty.

You inhale the smoke, feeling the familiar, carcinogenic burn in your throat, causing yourself pain to cause Rafael pain only to cause you pain in return; an endless cycle of hurt.

With ambivalence, you put your cigarette out and hail a cab, and tell him to drive you to your apartment which you haven’t seen in weeks. There’s dust on every surface, it’s freezing as hell, and you don’t know how you’re going to sleep tonight, alone, so you light up another cigarette, sitting solitary with your nerves running haywire underneath your skin. What the hell were you going to do now?

#rafael barba x reader #rafael barba x you #rafael barba

[whatareyousearchingfordean]

Happiness Begins

Part 24

Chapter Summary: Jared sets his plan into motion. Elsewhere, the reader works on coming to terms with her struggles over these past few months. 

Word Count: 2.6K+

Warnings: Language, discussion of mental health struggles, 

Author’s Note: Only one more part after this!!! AH! I am tremendously blessed and constantly surprised by all the love and support I have received for this crazy little series. I couldn’t have done it without y’all, so enjoy the fruits of your labor. xo Alex

Catch up with the series masterlist and find more works by yours truly over at Alexandra’s Library! 

The sun was malicious as it beat down on the small Austin country club. It was normally packed on beautiful Sundays and this one was no different. Jensen was cruising down a hill in his golf cart, one of his old high school buddies riding shotgun as they played a full eighteen. It felt nice to get out and do something again for a change. It had been so long since he had any free time, seeing as he was between projects right now, and he wanted to soak up all of it before the next one came along. 

He slowed the cart down as they reached their hole, putting it in park on the flat grassland. He hopped out of the cart and searched his bag for a putter. 

“I don’t understand how you keep beating me. I’ve been practicing for months.” His buddy laughed, Jensen joining in along with him. He opened his mouth to comment, only for another voice to pipe up first.  

“Yeah, he always was the one to beat.” Jensen tensed as he recognised the familiar voice coming up to him and his friend. Jared was alone as he approached the men, but he was smiling brightly. Confusion was evident on Jensen’s face as he tried to determine what was happening. 

“Hey, Jared, good to see you again bud.” Jensen’s friend held out his hand for Jared to shake. 

“Likewise.” He nodded before turning his attention back to Jensen. “It’s good to see you too, man.” Jared pulled Jensen in for a hug, stunning his fellow actor before he returned the sentiment. 

“Can I talk to you?” Jared pointed his thumb behind him, indicating to Jensen that he wanted to talk in private. 

“Uh, sure.” Jensen was hesitant. He wasn’t sure what Jared was playing at yet. Especially considering the last time they talked outside of work, they were in a screaming match. But he followed him a little way away from the cart nonetheless. 

“What’s up?” 

“I figured you’d be here today.” Jared started.

“So are you following me?” 

Jared laughed. “No, no nothing like that.” 

“Then what is it?”

“It’s... well it’s about Y/n.” Jared ran a hand through his hair, pushing the long locks out of his face. He had a smile on his face, but Jensen could read the pain that hid behind it. 

“Jared…”

“No, just listen. I want you to know, I’m sorry. I fucked up, okay? I was selfish and stupid and I should have seen it sooner. I guess I couldn’t believe that you weren’t just using her to pass the time because it was easy.” Jared admitted. “And I hate myself for ever thinking that. I know you better than that. I think it was just my protective older brother coming out. You know she hasn’t had the best track record with guys, and I just couldn’t see past that for some reason.” Jared sighed. “You two, well, you guys are actually pretty perfect for each other, no matter how weird I may feel about that. And I’ll be honest, I do still feel weird. But I’m working on it.”

Jensen sighed, rubbing his hand across the full beard that adorned his face. “That’s great Jared, really I’m glad, but I think it’s a little late.” 

“Why do you say that?” 

“Y/n doesn’t want anything to do with me. I hurt her. I took back every promise I made to her. I don’t deserve her forgiveness anyway.” Jensen didn’t go into specifics, Jared would get the picture with what little he had offered. 

“Yeah, she is hurting. She’s hurting something fierce. I’ve honestly never seen her this way and it scares me. I overheard her tell Gen she is thinking of selling her business and moving to New York. Got some big offer from a huge beauty conglomerate. Didn’t even feel like she could tell me about it either.” Jared explained. Jensen’s head snapped up, his brows coming together on his forehead. 

“No, Y/n would never do that.” 

“That’s what I thought too. But she’s been offered some huge deal to sell her shares and be a VP for this new company. And she is seriously thinking of accepting it.” Jensen adjusted the ball cap on top of his head. 

“Why would she do that?” Jensen’s words came out in a sigh.

“Do you really have to ask that question?” Jared put a hand on his hip when Jensen scoffed at him. 

“Come on, you can’t put that on me.”

“I’m not blaming you, I swear. Y/n is hurting though, and I don’t think that anyone else will be able to talk her out of it.” Jared said honestly. 

“So that’s why you’re really here, to beg me to convince your sister to not run away because of me.” Jensen rolled his tongue behind his teeth, biting back the urge to yell. That would never get him anywhere. 

“I meant what I said. I am sorry. But I also know that she won’t listen to me. She may however, listen to you.” Jared jumped to the defensive the second the angry words left Jensen’s mouth. “Look, I’m not saying you two should pick up things where you left them, not that I would care either way, but she loves you in a way that I have never seen before, and that has to count for something.” 

“It did, at one point. Now, I’m not so sure.” Jared frowned at his friend. In one way, he did need his help, but at the same time he understood his hesitancy. They didn’t have the greatest history where his sister was concerned. 

“Just let me get you two in the same room. Then we can let it happen naturally. What do you say?” What could Jensen say to that. As much as he was hesitant about tricking her into something, he didn’t want her to go. Danneel’s words had been haunting him since he had returned from LA. Jensen had been on the fence about whether he should take her advice and go after the woman he loved, and if he let her run off to New York, he may never get his chance. Y/n deserved to have all the facts before she made such a huge decision. She needed to know that he wouldn’t let her go without a fight. 

“Ok, Jare.”

****

Gen’s words were still ringing in her head as she carried her tired body up the stairs to her apartment. Having babysat the three littlest Padalecki’s for the night, she was more exhausted than she had been in a while. She had forgotten how wild they could get sometimes, and she just had to be the fun aunt and cave when they begged for cookies. Three kids hopped up on sugar was, in hindsight, a bad idea. 

In the end, she was thankful for her time with family. Being able to spend real time with them had what Gen said to her affecting her more than she thought it would. She had all but made up her mind about going to New York, but the more she thought about it, the more the idea actually scared her. It was a big step to take, and she still had at least one more person to talk to before she called Mr. Baltussen back. 

The next morning, when she rolled out of bed, the sun was already high in the sky. She had slept far past her normal time, but for the first time in a while, she felt rested. Maybe it had to do with her plans for today. Or maybe she had truly needed to exhaust her body in order to get a truly restful sleep. Either way, she saw it as a bright sign. It was her reason to keep moving forward. 

Seeing as she slept in a little later than normal, she had to make quick work of showering and getting dressed before her appointment. Y/n plucked her favorite pair of converse from the stand near her front door and plopped down on her couch to put them on. As her weight settled in the middle of the couch she felt something bump her hip. She turned, her brow scrunched together on her forehead to find her laptop falling into her hip.  

“Seriously,” she huffed to herself. After all the time she spent looking yesterday, it had been on her couch all along. She could have sworn she checked the cushions, but apparently not as well as she thought. Y/n picked up the device and set it on the coffee table so she would be sure of where it was later, before bouncing out the door. 

Nothing had changed about the small office she once again found herself in. The walls were still the same soft shade of green she used love some time ago. They still held the same paintings and the plants that had once threatened to overtake the room were still alive and strong. Even the couch that she had hated sitting at was still full of accent pillows that tossed a splash of color into the otherwise neutral room. 

Y/n took a deep breath, allowing the essentials oils diffused into the space to ground her. It was like she had never left, and there was nothing she was more thankful for at this moment. When Gen had said she should talk to someone, she didn’t know Y/n had already scheduled this appointment. She had fallen so far from being a reasonably functioning human being. Just seeing Jensen and Danneel together and admitting out loud she wanted to sell her business, had sent her into a tailspin. Y/n had reached her breaking point, and she wasn’t hesitant to admit that she needed help. 

“Please, take a seat.” Dr. Hawkins stood up from her place behind her desk as Y/n entered, picking up her notepad and taking a seat in the armchair across from the couch. Y/n complied to her request, making herself comfortable on the soft furniture. 

“It’s been a while since we talked last. Where do you want to start?” Y/n bit her lip as she contemplated her choices. It truly had been a long time since she had been to see her therapist, and with everything that had happened in her life, she could build her way up or just jump right into things. “How about we start with work?” Dr. Hawkins suggested after a moment of silence. 

“Work is hectic. Things are really hitting off, not to mention I just spent the last few months juggling my business and working on set with my brother.” Y/n fidgeted in her seat, a movement that did not go unnoticed by Dr. Hawkins. 

“Yeah, and how did that go?” 

“Not at all how I expected.” Y/n was gnawing on her lip again. She wasn’t sure why she was hesitant to talk. After all, that was the whole reason she was here in the first place. Hell, she might as well just jump right into it. Y/n took a deep breath. “Long story short, I slept with Jared’s best friend slash co-star slash guy he considered his brother. All behind his back, for months.” 

“And why do you think you did that?” Y/n scoffed. She should have seen that question coming, she just expected more of a reaction. 

“Because I’m an idiot. Because the guy made me feel safe, and beautiful, and loved. I think I was lonely after clashing with my mother at Christmas about my dating life and also being stood up. He fed me every line I wanted to hear and for some reason I believed him.” 

“What makes you think he was lying to you?” 

“He told me he was all in. That he loved me and wanted to be with just me. He said it wasn’t just about the sex. But then Jared found out and things got bad. Jared punched him and wouldn’t talk to either of us. For weeks.” Tears were brimming in her eyes. Recounting everything was harder than she thought it was going to be. Admitting it out loud to another person broke her out of whatever bubble she had put herself into. It all sounded so ridiculous coming out of her mouth. “When things got tough he just bailed.”

“What exactly did he say to you?” Dr. Hawkins pushed.

“He said that we ‘all needed a break’.” Y/n made air quotes with her fingers. “His reasoning was that he wanted to give me my brother back and he knew I could live without without Jared.” 

“Was he wrong?” 

“You know me. Family is everything to me. He just failed to see that I can’t live without him either.” It was hard for her to admit that out loud. After all, she had promised herself that a man would not define her life. Yet here she was, a broken shell of a woman because Jensen left her. It was a constant battle inside her head, a seesaw bouncing back and forth against her skull. Most days it was just exhausting. 

“To me, it sounds like he didn’t lie to you. He may not have gone about things exactly like you wanted, but that doesn’t mean that he was ever insincere with you.” 

“What about me seeing him with his ex fiance all over the media? He told me he was over her, but they are out in L.A. together having dinner.” 

Dr. Hawkin’s lips curled up in a small smile. “Are they still friends?” 

“Not that I know of. I mean, she was at his birthday party a few months ago.” 

“So what is to say it wasn’t just two friends getting together? Who says it had to be romantic? Was there any indication they were intimate?” Oh, she was good. Y/n scrunched her nose up, shaking her head. Of course her broken heart had soaked up what the media had fed her to fuel its own story on things. 

“You know, I understand now when people call therapists ‘common sense filters’.” Dr. Hawkins chuckled along with the messed up woman across from her. 

“So, let’s say that he truly did love you. Perhaps his leaving hurt him just as much as it hurt you. Maybe he needed a friend to talk to? Isn’t that why you are here, to talk to somebody?” 

“Yeah.”

“And did you patch things up with your brother?”

“We are working through things.” 

“It sounds to me that he made the right choice.” 

Y/n bit back the tears. “And me and him? Where does that leave us?”

“Do you forgive him?” Y/n nodded. Of course she forgave him. She would be lying if she said she didn’t. Somewhere deep down, even as pathetic as it sounds, she forgave him the minute her and Jared started talking again. “Then as cliché as it sounds, if it is meant to be, you’ll find your way back to each other.” 

“You’re right, that does sound cliché.” Both women laughed, the moment lifting from Y/n’s shoulders. 

“You know, it is okay to mourn your loss. Because that’s what this was. It was a loss, Y/n. All that matters is that you don’t let that grief run your life. And that’s something I tell all my mourning patients. You are a strong and smart woman. I know you’ll get through this.” Dr. Hawkins pushed away her notepad, her full attention on Y/n. 

“Yeah, I see that now.” Y/n smiled, allowing more of the weight on her shoulders to dissipate. Right now, she was kicking herself for not coming back sooner. But that’s what happens, life gets in the way sometimes. What matters now is that she found her way back. Her way back to Austin, to her family. And she would find her way back to happiness, even if it isn’t in the way she expects. More than that, she would find peace.

Part 25 (Final)

Forevers: @spn-impala​​ @22sarah08​​ @turtlepad​​ @callmekda​​ @chaldei​​ @hobby27​​ @cowboysnwinchesters​​ @tranquility-or-chaos​​ @pikabootoyouchu​​ @dawnie1988​​ @grease222​​ @awesome-badass-cafeteria-sauce​​ @polina-93​​ @clarinette07​​ @moonlight-babeh​​ @suckerforfanfic​​ @witandnargles​​ @sleepylunarwolf​ @stiles-stilinski-24-dylan​ @geeksareunique​ @akshi8278​ @superfanficnatural​ @malfoysqueen14​ @deanwanddamons​ @waywardbeanie​ @emoryhemsworth​

Et Cetera: @jbbarnesgirl​ @hillface89​ @arses21434​ @thevelvetseries​ @sslater34​ @mrsirishboru​ @smoothdogsgirl​ @spnfamily-j2​ @encounterthepast​ @facadeformyrealblog  @supernatural-bellawinchester​ @screechingartisancashbailiff​​ @rebeccathefangirl​ @squirrelnotsam​ @heartinmyhead1​ @1d-killed-me​ @samsgirl93​ @deans-baby-momma​ @deanmonandnegansbitch​ @woodworthti666​ @supraveng​ @onethirstyunicorn​ @heartsaved​ @know2grow​ @littlewhiterose​ @surprisinglysarah​ @stoneyggirl​ @carryon-doctor-lock​ @thebookisbtr​ @youaremyfiveever​ @kalesrebellion​ @lilulo-12​ @winchester-fantasies​ @vicmc624​ @supernatural3002​ @winchester-writes​ @maralisa124​ @therollingstoners​ @parinarain​ @kaz11283​ @charmed-asylum​ 

#jensen ackles x reader #jensen ackles x you #jensen ackles x plus size reader #jensen ackles x plus sized reader #jensen ackles x sister!padalecki #jared padalecki x sister!reader #jensen ackles fanfiction #jensen ackles fanfic #jensen ackles fic #jensen ackles #supernatural #supernatural fanfiction #supernatural fanfic #supernatural fic #spn fic #spn fanfic #spn rpf #metamorphosis #real person fiction #supernatural rpf #alex writes #mine #happiness begins

[resignedseraph]

// details of religious abuse and cults + mention of lgbtphobia

-

I hope this is okay to ask, but how to tell if the church u belonged to was a cult and when it’s ok to call yourself a cult and/or religious abuse survivor..also apostate? what are some subtle aspects of a cult? i was forced to go to (southern Baptist Christian) church sometimes(or be kicked out.. yes as a child) and when I did there were some ... unusual teachings ... by the people there and my family members would try to push those harmful teachings onto me as well and still do. It’s made me feel repulsed and uncomfortable by Christianity and feeling a lot of hatred towards it, It’s made me want to go against All of its teachings. some unusual teachings are like: don’t watch movies like Harry Potter or listen to “inappropriate” music especially with even a single curse word because the devil will get you through them, you need to be Christian and convert your family or else u will go to hell.. if u do not successfully convert your family members then u are responsible and you will all go to hell, lgbtphobia, if u don’t go to church then hell, the devil is always around, trying to push that Christians are most oppressed, threats of the rapture, and so on. Is that just normal? /gen

Okay first off no that’s not normal (or at least it’s not healthy). For southern Baptist churches specifically though, similar beliefs are much more widespread because the denomination as a whole shared similar beliefs.

Second off, this is a little out of order, but bear with me. Personally, I used the BITE model developed by Steven Hassan when trying to figure out whether the cult I grew up in was a cult. It’s not some sort of yes/no guideline, but if a particular group checks a lot of the different types of control on the list (behavior, information, thoughts, and emotions), then I’d say it’s safe to call it a cult. If it checks those type of control but you’re not comfortable calling it a cult, you can always call it a high control group or a cult-like church.

From what you’ve said though, the church does check a lot of the types of control in the BITE model.

Being forced to go to a church/being forced to do certain things or else you’d be kicked out -> behavioral control (plus an example of black/white thinking and consequences). Being told not to watch HP or listen to inappropriate music -> behavioral and information control (after all, music and fiction can be powerful things). Pressure to convert people -> behavioral control (and possibly thought/emotion control, because most likely they wouldn’t be too happy if you didn’t want to convert them). “The devil is always around” -> possibly all four types of control. If it’s similar to the Baptist churches I’ve been a part of, there’s likely more (purity culture, being told to forgive people no matter what, being told not to hate, being told not to seek out other information like with other religions, etc).

Some other common things used by cults that I would encourage you to research include love bombing, and black and white thinking. Theramintrees is actually a great channel for that imo, since the guy who runs the channel is a licensed therapist and religious abuse survivor himself.

There’s also things which personally I consider like... backup almost? Or fuel for more harmful beliefs. Hell of course is a big one, and is particularly easy to use because the threat of it is enough to get people to do things, but you can’t actually prove it exists. Same thing with the devil. Yes, people attribute things to the devil, but they could use the same logic telling you about an evil invisible milk carton, and just expect you to believe it because they’re in a position of authority.

In my opinion at least, no healthy religion or belief system should hinge on broad threats of harm that can be applied to nearly anything someone wants to control. The rapture is a similar belief, since you can’t prove it will happen, but the idea that it might holds so much power that people can use it to their own purposes. Persecution complexes are also really common in Christianity. Rather ironic that one of the religions most used in conjunction with colonization and imperialism is also the one that from the inside they say is the most oppressed. It’s basically just an excuse to try to keep control and power by trying to invent a power dynamic that doesn’t exist. It can also ofc be used to back up other behavior.

As far as religious abuse goes, one important thing to remember is that others trauma being worse or better doesn’t make yours invalid, whatever the extent of it is. The core of religious abuse is using religious framework to encourage and enforce abusive behavior and dynamics. You can totally take some time to do more research and think about stuff, but I definitely wouldn’t be offended or anything if you called yourself a religious abuse/cult survivor. With “apostate,” I’m not quite as well versed in what it does/does not include since the terminology wasn’t used much growing up, but it basically just means someone who after converting, decided to leave of their own free will. There’s probably more but I honestly don’t know much more than that.

Anyway this was really long but I hope this helps!

#ex christian #ex cult #cult survivor #religious abuse #hell tw #devil tw #rapture mention #scrupulosity tw

[beckitty]

Hey, feel free to ignore if this is a weird question, but you've been pretty open about going through something like this, so I was wondering if you had any advice. I had longterm plans to move in with my partner of a couple years, but as 2020 luck would have it, the move coincided with the recurrence of some debilitating chronic pain he has that can hopefully be mitigated with physical therapy, but the recovery road will be long and uncertain. So I ended up handling almost all of the move, and now we've kicked off living together with me taking on all the household work and him doing tons of physical therapy and rest and just trying to get a couple pain-free hours. I'm also trying to be a supportive sounding board for his frustration at being in this really exhausting situation, so it often feels like I only do that, work fulltime, and do chores. (We both have therapists, but being frustrated about this can't exactly be limited to once a week.) I am... tired, but I also my partner physically and emotionally has nothing to give right now, and he already feels bad enough about that. Your stories about your husband's illness really reminded me of this. Do you happen to have advice? Sorry if this is weird!

It's not wierd at all, and its definitly a tough situation to be it!

The absolute first thing I would suggest you do is to prioritise your own self-care. It's a lesson I learned the hard way as my husbands carer, and now my nursing degree is trying to drum into all of us: You cannot take care of anyone else until you have taken care of yourself. Its much easier said than done, my first instinct is to drop everything to help and I imagine you feel the same right now. But you only have so many resources, you need to replenish them to spend them. You will be able to help your partner better that way too.

One of the things I would suggest would be to see if there is anything your partner can take on to help you. Even if it's just small things like managing the bills, or meal planning, even if he cant cook right now. Anything that takes a little load from you, and also gives him a role in the household, which will help him too. It could be worth him talking to his physical therapist about what he can do to help you too, they may have suggestions.

With the housework, dont be a perfectionist. It's ok if things get a little messy, as long as the basics are down. If the dishes are clean, and there are 3 towels and a change of clothes each available, that's good enough on the bad days. Do more when you can, but forgive yourself for the days you cant.

My absolute top tips for living with someone with chronic illness and/or chronic pain, it to have time for yourselves, and time with friends. Both of you. Even if it's in the same house, you both have to have time (and you should absolutely schedule it) where you spend your time not worring about him, not worring about anything, and just doing something nice for you. In that time, if it's not an emergency, you can ignore it. It's your time.

You will both need support from more than just each other. Reach out to friends and family, ask for their support. Even if it's just calling a sibling to rant or having a laugh on a group chat with your mates, it helps. There will be times when you need to get away, and go do something else for a while (once that's an option again) and yours and his friends cam help you out by being there for him if he needs it and going out with you when you do. My sister would come visit me once a week with her kids to visit, and would clean my kitchen for me while she was there.

Encourage your partner to reach out to his friends and family, so you arent his only sounding board, and because it helps to talk to people outside of the situation.

My husband and I have a shared friend group, and there have been times when its been too much, so we've told them so and they've all rallied round. It would have been so much harder without them.

I'm glad you asked me for help, please ask for help when you need it from whomever can help you. This includes his medical team, you would be suprised the resources they have to help both of you. Find out what local support there is for carers in your area too.

I'm not gonna lie, this is going to be hard on both of you. You will argue and fight, and some days you are going to have had enough. You are going to get tired and overwhelmed. That's ok, it's normal! When the worst days hit, forgive yourselves, forgive each other, order something nice to eat and do something easy you enjoy together. It's ok to take a day off. Finding time to just be together and enjoy each other, even if it's not always to plan, is important as well.

Not knowing the details, I cant give you anything more specific, but I hope this helps.

If you want someone to talk to, have questions, or you just need to rant, my inbox is always open. I've been there and I am happy to be there for the 2 of you.

#chronic pain #chronic health tag #carers

[dearfuturehusbandblog]

Welcome To The World, LittleBean: A Life Update

Dear Future Husband,

My sister had the baby! And it made me depressed.

I kind of receded from the world for a couple of weeks and stopped talking to people I enjoy talking to, and stopped doing things I enjoy doing, and kind of stayed in my room unless it was absolutely necessary to leave.

Why, might you ask, would I have done such a thing as a response to such a happy event?

Well, for some of the reasons I've written about previously. The emotional weight of the sadness that comes along with seeing a younger sibling live through something you yourself desire but feel you'll never have, is probably the biggest.

But another reason I've been really down is because of my mother.

Dear old MotherLivelyHeart has problems.

I think I've mentioned this previously, but if/when I marry, I will most definitely be marrying INTO a family and as "out" of my own as I possibly can.

MotherLivelyHeart suffers from anxiety and depression. Shocker, I know.

In fact, my inner voice is comprised mainly of her criticism and negativity. Shocker, I know.

Dear old MotherLivelyHeart has never really wanted to be a mother, as far as I can tell. Shocker? ...I dunno.

When I was growing up, my mother used to always say "I only had children for the grandkids" and everyone would laugh. But HAHA! it wasn't a joke. I figured out pretty early on that she was kind of serious with that statement.

But nothing in my life confirmed that until she was on the phone with her machutanim on the day LittleBean was born and repeated that sentiment to them.

So, all my life, she's struggled with being the parent she never wanted to be in order for us to have offspring that she could love and adore and spoil and then send home to their parents without having to parent herself.

THIS is the "home" I came from.

THIS is the parenting I received.

It's absolutely no wonder I'm so screwed up.

My mother has been overbearing my entire life. And a lot of it comes from her own insecurities and anxieties and lack of the world living up to her expectations. Which is kind of understandable.

The problem comes when those expectations come at the cost of other peoples' comfort and safety.

LilSis had a c-section. The baby wasn't exactly breached, but was flipped at a weird angle and stuck. The baby was also a meconium baby, so while it was already over a week past the due date, LilSis thought she still had time. But as it turned out there wasn't any time because when she went for what she thought was a routine check up, they induced her and after two days of labor and nothing happening, they did the c-section.

Now, LilSis made it clear earlier this year that she didn't want anyone at the hospital with her aside from her doula and husband. No visitors, family included. The rest of us seemed to accept this, but MotherLivelyHeart just kind of smirked and went, "yeah, ok, we'll see about that."

And I get that LilSis is her baby.

I get that it's not easy to see your child suffer.

I get that she's been waiting her whole life to be a grandmother.

I get that she's had expectations about what it would be like to meet her grandchildren, especially her first grandchild.

I. GET. IT.

But when LilSis facetimed and showed us the baby and B"H the baby looked fine but LilSis was clearly too pale and weak and dizzy and needed to get off the phone, but again repeated that she didn't want anyone coming to the hospital, dear old MotherLivelyHeart's response was that she wanted to "surprise" them at the hospital.

"I don't need to ask permission."

"I'm not a 'visitor', I'm her MOTHER."

"I don't need permission to see my own daughter."

"I know what she needs, I'll just drop it off, give her a hug and leave."

"I don't need to see her, I just want to see the baby."

UHM, NOOOOOOOOO.

Your daughter is almost 30.

She's been married for over half a decade.

She has a right to her space and her boundaries for her little nuclear family and YOU ARE CROSSING THEM by even THINKING that would be acceptable.

And the next day, my mother called LilSis and asked her about something she wanted to bring with her. LilSis made it clear that she didn't want anyone to come. When my mother didn't seem to get this, my brother in law texted her a kind "now isn't a good time" message and my mother felt "ganged up on".

She went into a tailspin.

"They don't like me."

"What did I ever do to them that they hate me so much?"

"I've been dissed and dismissed."

"They've cut me out of their lives."

And sooooooo many other thoughts along those lines.

There isn't even enough space here to describe all the insane things she did as a response to this "rejection" she was experiencing.

She was 100000000000% projecting her own thoughts, expectations, and experiences with her own c-section onto LilSis and the whole situation was absurd.

Then LittleBean ended up back in the hospital because of some complications and LilSis and her husband still wanted space.

Now, what MotherLivelyHeart doesn't know, because I will never tell her, is that I saw LittleBean before she did.

Because I'm actually supportive and respectful of boundaries, when they got home LilSis and her husband allowed me to come by and drop stuff off, and run some errands for them (while they were still keeping overbearing MotherLivelyHeart at arms length). So I met LittleBean like 3 or 4 times. And the babes is absolutely precious. <3

LilSis and her husband finally let MotherLivelyHeart over this past week to meet LittleBean and help out and it's like a switch was flipped. Suddenly everything for MotherLivelyHeart is sunshine and rainbows and I legit can't handle the mood swings.

But I digress....

One night last week I drove around and cried and screamed for an hour.

It absolutely sucks when you have no one to talk to.

Which brings me to the next part of my life update:

I finally spoke to a therapist.

So, I thought I was ghosted by the therapist I wanted to speak to. It took a few days, but he finally responded there was an issue with his online scheduler and he needed me to reschedule.

Fine, whatever.

I rescheduled for two weeks from that date (which had already been rescheduled from two weeks prior). So, now it's been a month and a half.

Fine, whatever.

Well, my meeting with him ended up being earlier this week. As it turns out, this therapist I wanted to speak to isn't taking on new clients at the moment, so he was acting more as triage for his practice and had a 15 minute zoom call with me before picking a therapist from his practice he thought I'd connect with.

So the next night I had an hour and a half zoom call with her and she's absolutely lovely and has experience working with children and adults who have experienced similar situations to the one I'm in.

For $120 I had my thought processes and experiences validated.

But that's pretty much it.

She told me I sound pretty level headed and understand what's healthy and what's not healthy in my life and in my past (which is one of the problems with being an overthinker, overanalyzer, and having done extensive research to try and figure out WTF is wrong with me), and she told me there are some exercises to try and reduce stress because it's clear that I'm overstressed and have been since I was a child, and even possibly since birth.

But these are all things I knew already. These are all things I've validated for myself. Yes, it's nice to hear a specialist say the same things, but for $120!?

I literally had to use unemployment money to pay for that. Unemployment that I'm going to have to end pretty soon.

How on EARTH am I supposed to be able to afford continued therapy when it costs so bloody much!?

It's absolutely awful that the people who need therapy the most are the ones who can't afford it.

And I found an organization that claims to help anyone who asks without needing an explanation, so I messaged them a brief "my life is a mess and I need to talk to a therapist. I found someone I think I can connect with, but it costs $120." and they sent me $10.

They said they help anyone who asks without an explanation.

I gave a valid explanation with a specific amount requested.

And they sent me $10.

It just so often feels like I'm banging my head against a wall.

Like I'm a joke to Hashem.

This random organization was like a beacon in the dark. A sign from Hashem that if I reach out for help, I can receive it.

He put this organization into my path and awareness just at the time that I needed it.

All so that He could mock me.

OF COURSE the therapy practice I chose doesn't take insurance.

Not that it would help, because my OBAMAdoesntCARE has been PENDING SINCE OCTOBER.

So OF COURSE I have to pay out of pocket.

And OF COURSE it costs so damn much.

And OF COURSE when I reach out for help I get laughed at.

What did they think I was supposed to do with the $10?

That's literally 1/12 of what I needed.

Even the Torah has us give more than that in maaser.

I legitimately don't understand.

Where do I have to go and what do I have to do to get a sugar daddy to pay for this so I can get my goddamn life in order!?

I'm literally drowning out here and God is throwing me half-deflated pool floaties.

On the bright side, I keep making amazing non-Jewish internet friends.

Do you know how much that sucks?

That I'm literally getting more support from non-Jewish internet friends that live halfway across the world than I am from my own community?

And it sucks even more to know that Hashem put those people into my path too!!

He literally keeps giving me things that He knows will make me feel worse because they make me feel better but also disconnected from the Jewish community, and not giving me things that would make me feel better and closer to Him and the Jewish community.

What am I supposed to do with that knowledge!?

I've often wondered if maybe I just wasn't meant to be Jewish. Like maybe there was some mistake and my mother isn't really Jewish and therefore I'm not Jewish and this is Hashem's way of telling me that I just need to separate myself from the Jewish world and go seek a secular life because that's truly who I'm supposed to be.

Except that my parents were married by a really chashuv community rav who did his research and would not have married my parents if there'd been even one safek as to her Jewishness.

And so, I'm stuck.

I'm stuck feeling constantly disconnected from the community that's supposed to be my rock and support. By the God who's supposed to be merciful and kind.

It's exhausting.

Are you out there? Do you feel the same? Are you a BT or ger or someone else who has lived both lives and can explain to me why yiddishkeit is better?

I have too much Jewish guilt to walk away from any of this, but I have too much mental stress to keep striving to be a part of it.

It's utterly exhausting to be stuck in the middle.

I hope you're doing better than I am.

-LivelyHeart

#jumblr #frumblr #orthodox #shidduch #dating #jewishdating #jewish dating #jewish #frum #shadchan #shadchanim #shidduchim

[lightsintheskye]

Ahhh I have a lot of messages in my inbox right now (over like ...2000; ) but this one just jumped out at me from yesterday and I’ve been thinking about it a lot. I’m sorry if this is a long long response (l’ll screenshot it as a textpost so it doesn’t clog someones feed) but I just, with how hypercritical social media makes us about ourselves and others its important to acknowledge bullying and how exposed we are to it. If anyone reading this is also struggling with this topic right now please read below. Remember I’m not a licensed therapist but I’ve had a lot of experience with bullying so read below if you like-

For the most part, the big two are finding a positive support network and focusing on things that make me happy. I’m not unscathed, I have clinically diagnosed MDD, Anxiety, and PSTD, but I’ve learned to manage these things. If you need to take a break from social media, do it- do your best to be your own curator of positivity. If social media is one of your few solaces, create a special account for yourself that just follows what you love. Remember that YOU are the one in control of your social media feed and are responsible for what you see.

1. Support Network:

Find a group that you can trust, and do you best to talk about your feelings and experiences in a constructive way(see no 5). That being said respect your support network, always ask if it’s ok to vent to them and don’t treat others as emotional dumping grounds. I know trusting people is incredibly hard, I still struggle with it (my own support network is literally two people but I also practice a lot of behavioral therapy since a lot of medications unfortunately don’t work for me) but you can not go through life second guessing every action (fuck you, anxiety). If your situation is such that you don’t think you have friends you can talk to, your college might have a therapist you can talk to for free. There are also online sites and hotlines that offer the same free services. Sometimes it takes a few therapists to find one that works for you, but sometimes its easier to talk to a friend rather a stranger- and therapy might not always be available to everyone. Google is your friend for finding constructive options.I know it’s hypocritical since this is a tumblr post, but do research on your own from reputable sites and sources for healthy coping.

2. Don’t bottle it up: I used to be incredibly quiet about any sort of stress or bullying I received in the past. I used to lie about never being bullied or harassed after middle school, but the only person that ended up hurting is myself. I don’t think I’ll ever be perfectly fine, but talking about it helps more than you think. I’m not saying to blast it out to everyone exactly how you’re feeling 24/7 but take time to trade woes with a close friend every week or so. Just don’t forget to celebrate the good when and where you can- this world has so much that makes it suck, but there’s also a lot that we can enjoy- too.

3. Bullies seriously suck, but don’t become one:

In my experience, very few bullies ‘grow up’ if they’re still bullying people in college, they just kinda get better at hiding it. This usually manifests behind passive aggressive comments, and or just talking behind someones back and hiding behind a screen to say things. Even in grad school I’ve witnessed "adults” being shitty to each other twitter, on insta, on discord, on tumblr, on A03- you name it. Bullies can come from anywhere, and be anyone, and bully for any reason. People who were bullied sometimes become bullies themselves in a way to gain back sense of power- but their own abuse doesn’t make abusing others right. In the past I’ve had comments and emails telling me everything from childish bullying to literally telling me to kill myself. Negative comments about my appearance, the way I talk, the way I draw, my hobbies,my choice of schooling (which ??????),  harassment about my choice of friends and the people I associate myself with. People who seek negativity will find any reason to slight another. But know that harassment is harassment regardless of why, so even if you’re angry bullying someone back really wont change much. I can think of nothing more toxic than willingly engaging with your bullies in order to find ways to ‘get back’ at them. The beauty of being online is that you can just leave a site, hit a block button, and even make a new name for yourself. Do your best to limit interaction with them. Do not put yourself in situations that involve them. Do not cyber stalk them (yes, repeatedly checking their tumblr/fb/instagram to criticize and mock their every post, or find every person they talk to “whistle-blow” on them is a form of defamation of character and cyber-stalking). Doing this will only invite negative emotions and make you start to hyper fixate. It’s an easy two way street that will invite people to do the same to you- and unless you’re the next coming of Christ someone will inevitably find out something negative about you. Do not hold people to standards that you yourself cannot achieve. You may be more morally inclined than your bully but no one one is perfect. You will never be able to please everyone. It is not your job to do so. 

4. Report, Put Away, Ignore: If these people are saying things to you that can be documented and reported to your school (assuming these are classmates that you can prove have done things) then take a screenshot if possible and report it. It’s a gamble to have anything done about it, some schools are shit about bullying, but some schools aren’t. Recently in my case, in grad school there was a bullying incident and we were incredibly afraid of what the bullies would do if they found out who exactly reported them, but thankfully I had friends help us report it- so multiple reports from anonymous sources made it hard for them to pin point it was someone finally standing up. Some colleges will take defamation of character (which, as an adult, is really what a lot of bullying is) very seriously and amazingly- that bully completely changed. I would not call them a friend, but for now their apology seems sincere and they’ve worked towards being a better person. So, if you choose to report it, after reporting, put that shit away and don’t keep looking at it, find a way to make it really hard to look at over and over. Put it in a folder within a folder within seven folders if you have to BECAUSE- 5. You HAVE to work towards moving ON or it will consume you.

Way, way easier said than done. I’m not saying so much ‘be the better person’ as to just ...seriously remove yourself from that shit as fast as you can. You owe nothing to the people that hurt you, but giving them more of your time over and over if you have the option not to is only going to end in you getting angrier or more upset yourself. The first time something hurts you, put a warning label on it, if it continues to hurt you, do not engage.

The internet can be so toxic- a lot of bullying is masked as “call-out culture” from minor things that happened years ago, it validates the worst forms of “coping” possible. It creates such a bad system of alarm fatigue for when real issues are happening, and creates a hive mind of abuse and hyper criticism where everyone is looking for the next target. There’s an extreme difference if a “bully” disagrees with your favorite ship or show and harasses you about it, or if someone is literally harassing you as an individual by telling you to self harm or worse. Treat your emotional scars like an actual wound; if you keep picking at it and ripping off the band aid to see if its still there its never going to heal. The scars might still be there and will still be visible on some days, but you’ll no longer be bleeding at the slightest brush. Learn to grow, learn to let others grow. Learn to trust again, and learn to try and be happy with who you are and who your friends are as you know them.  A big reason why I stepped away form the internet is that I found myself looking to validation in terms of popularity. And when i finally had it- I realized how toxic it ended up being for my health. I’d spend hours just to make a comic even at the cost of sleep or food, and 100 positive comments couldn’t stop my brain from fixating on ten that were negative or downright harassment. Even as I step back on the internet, I’m doing it from a much better place internally. It’s so so important not to get lost in numbers and online “validation.” Please just know eventually things will get better, and those that matter will stick around to be there to see your growth. People will always find something to give you shit about, but only you can determine how much it affects you. Recognize your emotions, process them, and take responsibility for them. Let your self-worth be determined by your own actions and words, not the actions or words of others.

#long post but #i think this is really important sorry

[thedreadvampy]

I’ve spent a lot of time thinking about disability and neurodivergence over the past couple of years (I’ve actually just now accepted a contract to freelance write a section of policy on disability and ableism for my old workplace. I have done this because I hate myself and starting a new job with 1.5x the hours as my old one JUST WASN’T ENOUGH STRESS)

and I have decided I REALLY take issue with the concept of "disabled”. like. at all. I think the construction of “disabled people” is at the root of SWATHES of what’s wrong with our society and how we treat people with specific access or wellbeing needs.

like I think it’s basically fact at this point to take a postmodern approach and accept the common framing of “people are as disabled as society makes them” ie disability is a social construct and who is disabled is purely a matter of who society isn’t willing to work around as default (the usual example is short-sightedness, which historically was a substantial disability but is barely noticeable in a society where using adaptive tech for it is normalised)

but I wanna push it further because either EVERYONE is disabled or NOBODY is disabled imo. “disabled” is a broad enough category to be fundamentally meaningless. it’s a useful umbrella term for like...people whose physical and psychological needs and personhood are often diminished, overlooked or ignored, but it’s also very arbitrary and contextual what qualifies as a disability.

which is kind of what I’m saying about person-centred parenting (which. pinch of salt I am not a parent). EVERYBODY has special needs because everybody’s needs are different. And my experience has been that positing Capital-D Disabled as a specific, blue-badge-holding, Very Serious category, and limiting your concerns about access and wellbeing needs to disabled people is: 

a) unhelpful to people who aren’t disabled per se but who benefit from specific accomodations (for a very trivial example, “having shit internet” isn’t a disability, but it’s still an access need that things like video transcripts, image descriptions and alternate communication routes will help meet) b) unhelpful to people who are “disabled-ish,” who don’t feel able to clearly identify as disabled, or who don’t know they’re disabled (which to be honest is so many of us because invisible disabilities, partial sensory or motor loss, and mental health problems make up the bulk of disabilities and those are often invisibilised or downplayed) c) unhelpful to “properly disabled” people, because it creates a huge othering effect. drawing a hard line between “normal” and “disabled,” or even imagining that that’s a line that exists, allows disabled people to be dehumanised or treated as the sum of their Tragic Suffering, as opposed to the Normal Abled People.

“Disabled” is, as I say, a useful generalisation/abstraction sometimes, but when we’re talking about actual material things (whether that’s material need or material change) it’s not a useful category. I honestly don’t think we can create a society which consistently confronts ableism while we’re trying to operate in a binary framework centred on “disabled” vs “not disabled” or “neurotypical” vs “neurodiverse”. We need to be willing to throw out the whole construction of “abled” and instead commit to handling needs without interrogating cause. 

This DOES NOT MEAN that doctors, therapists, individuals, communities etc shouldn’t try to diagnose, treat or understand conditions, or that we should throw out the idea of labelling condition groups. It just means that we need to flip how we look at it, and take a descriptive not prescriptive approach. We need to understand that these labels (whether something as broad as “disabled” or as specific as “Ehlers-Danlos type 2″) are useful as groupings, but that the function of them is to give a general idea of what issues might arise and what might help.

Every person with, say, EDS type 2 is using that to refer to the same symptom grouping, but a) they’ll all manifest, experience and describe symptoms their own way and b) they’re all individual people with other shit going on in their minds and bodies, and so what helps one of them may absolutely fuck another up. And somebody who doesn’t have EDS type 2, but who finds using a wheelchair helpful, potentially has more in common with EDS patient A (who uses a wheelchair) than Patient A has with EDS patient B (who has no mobility impairment but huge digestive problems).

And like. ok. I’m not hearing impaired but I do have audio processing issues, so subtitles are really, really useful to me. I’m not, technically, disabled in that way. it would be dodgy for me to claim I was. but it’s still super useful for me to feel able to request that. and then we have to ask - where’s the line? I’m disabled because my knees are fucked at 27. but if my knees were in this state at 80 I’d be in rude health. but if I was 80, it would still be an absolute pain in the ass to climb 5 flights of stairs, even though contextually I am healthier than expected. 

Or like...I was chatting to a pal about disability disclosure and all the little things you don’t notice affecting your life and therefore don’t report or ask for help with. I said “I have agoraphobia and there’s this like. physical resistance I have to push through to leave the house so I stand around going ‘oh no I have forgotten something’ because I’m procrastinating on having to go outside.” She said “oh I also do that but in my case it’s because I usually have forgotten something so I’m always paranoid.”

forgetfulness isn’t a disability (except when it is). and ultimately although the root is different the material impact is broadly the same. and the world is full of things we find hard that others find easy, but that may not be socially understood as disabilities. I just think we’d get a lot further if we took a solution-centred view on this. it does matter to me why I can’t leave the house, because how I handle it is affected by what the problem is. but it shouldn’t matter to eg my work why I need to give myself an extra 20 minutes to get out of the house (whether it’s agoraphobia, forgetfulness or something else) as long as we can, between us, figure out a workaround.

anyway that’s why I keep textdumping on that parenting post. because we shouldn’t have to ask “does my child have ADHD” or “is my child autistic” or “is my child trans” in order to justify finding ways for them to manage being restless, depressed, overwhelmed, manic, afraid, angry etc, or to let them wear what they feel right in and self-describe how they want to. It might be helpful to know if they’re ADHD/autistic/trans/whatever, because it can help you get ideas and resources for strategies, but it shouldn’t be necessary, and “because this thing is harmless and makes them safer/happier/calmer” is fundamentally a more important justification than “because they are autistic”

idk. treat people as people. try to do right by them. don’t build a hierarchy of Normal and Abnormal problems. just meet common needs and create space for people to express their needs without needing to disclose their whole medical history or litigate their disability status.

(TO BE CLEAR: in the current world legislation specifically related to defining disability as a protected characteristic and disabled people as at-risk/special interest groups are VERY NECESSARY. but in a world governed by an expectation of tailored accessibility and wellbeing approaches I think that necessity would at the very least be heavily reduced. and in communities trying to do more than the bare minimum to create an anti-ableist space I think the best single thing we can do is almost always to remove gatekeeping and disclosure barriers to asking for adaptations)

#none of this is stuff that hasn't been said 10000 times by people more experienced than me #but I'm just having a ramble

[infinitegalahad]

LIKE REAL PEOPLE DO

Summary: Eugene was always there to let you that you were beautiful.

Word-Count: 2.3k

Warnings: PLEASE!! READ!!! Trigger warnings for eating disorder, insecurity, and lots of angst. But there is going be lots of fluff and some self care from your’s truly!

Taglist: @tvserie-s-world @easy-company-tradition @liebgotttme @50svibes @ricksmorty @pennyllanne @capsparkyspeirs

Notes: f! reader. uh oh...not not writing a self insert for my bulimia and eugene roe comforting me because my therapist told me to eat more (which totally solves all my problems)? Never! ;DDDD...enjoy!!

Masterlist | Request A Prompt!

Your stomach growled and twisted as you hunched over the toilet, tears spilling from your eyes as you forcefully threw up the mass amount of food you had just eaten. Every bite felt like you were eating copious amounts of a forbidden fruit. It was your favourite, and you used to love eating (y/f/f) all the time-but now, you would barely keep it down.

Soon after eating, the guilt began to overtake your body. It was hard to ignore it as the warm feeling in your throat began to rise. It felt tingly and you had only one remedy on how to make it better-running to the bathroom and sticking a finger down your throat: watching everything come out as deformed and clunky.

Saliva dropped from your noses as you began to wipe it as tears streamed down your flushed face. The pain wasn’t ending, and you knew another round was set to come.

When you're a little girl, you didn’t think much of your body or how you looked. Little girls, or no child for the matter should have had to worry about what they looked like. But as you got older, the social norms and your body began to change. Other girls around you were thin, while you felt indifferent. You were made fun of not looking “thin”, which triggered a whole set of emotions. And so you took comfort in food, since it was the only thing that never judged you.

And yet food would soon become your enemy. You learned how to befriend, and also stab it in the back. Your relationship with food has formed into a minute where you could tolerate them, and then the other you had to get it out of your system. After eating meals, it became a habit for you to do so. Some days, you could tolerate being around it. Others, you would barely see if for days-if not weeks.

Your thoughts were overtaken by a large gulp in your throat, which resulted in the food you had binged coming out. Tears came from your eyes as you cried. What was wrong with you? Why couldn’t you just be normal and pretty? Why was life so unfair to you?

You are so lost in your own thoughts that you didn’t notice the bathroom door creak open and footsteps slowly approach your hunched figure. The pattern of the footsteps was already too familiar to you. Goosebumps went up your spine as you refused to look at him, embarrassed and guilted. Eugene was the last person you wanted to discover your monstrosity.

“Hey…” You managed to say, attempting to sound put together, which was the total opposite of what you currently where.

Eugene sunk down to your level and placed a hand on your back, rubbing small circles. Tears began to form at your eyes as you looked down, feeling it come again. Eugene grabbed your hair as you threw up, letting out a pained moan.

“I’m here, you’re okay,” Eugene cooed, letting you finish up. His soft accent was reassuring to you, but your heart rate increased. “Did it happen again?”

“Nothing is happening. I’m fine.” You lied, but knew that it was a shit lie and that Eugene was smart enough to see. He was your boyfriend and knew you better than anybody else did in the world-besides you.

“You’re not fine. Don’t lie to me, cher.”

You slowly move your head up to look at him. Eugene looks tired, and so do you. Your eyes are puffy from crying, cheeks red, lips quivering, goosebumps all over your skin, heavy breathing- a total mess. A pig is what you would refer to yourself as. The outfit you had worn today was too tight forming and showed off the parts of your body that you wanted the world not to see. You looked like a ugly rat in your eyes, the vision of a disfigured body clouding your vision.

Instead of using your words, you break down once again. Eugene is there to watch you, pulling you into him as you sob uncontrollably. You act like a child to its mother, clasping into Eugene for dear life as you stain his white shirt with tears. He doesn’t mind this since he loves you, and you know that. But how could he, someone so beautiful on the inside and out, be with someone like you-a slob? Eugene didn’t see you as any of the things you would describe yourself as, and you still couldn’t understand why he has chosen to stick around for four years (and counting).

“I’m sorry,” Is all you could cough through your tears. Eugene is running his hands up and down back, his fingers occasionally getting tangled in your hair as he straightens it out. He pulls you from his chest as he cups your face, tenderly pushing your loose hair behind your shoulders to get a better view of your pretty face.

Eugene caresses your cheeks, getting a feel of your soft (y/s/c). “No need to be. Jus’ wanna make sure your ok.”

“I’m not. I…” Letting out a frustrated sigh, the waterworks come back into play. Eugene, being the angel he is, stays quiet as his thumbs wipe the tears away. Gathering your words, you continue on, “I never have been. Look at me, I can’t control it. I don’t know what to do. I-“

“Hey, hey, hey. Your heart’s racin’, settle down.” Eugene reassured in a calming voice not to shut you up, but to calm you. Your skin is shaky and sweaty and your heart is banging against your ribcage. Eugene feels the guilt tug at his heart-he hates to see you in such a distressed state. “Let me help you. Here,”

Eugene slides his arms under your armpits and gently helps your up. Leading you to the living room, he places you on the couch as he runs to the kitchen to grab you a glass of water. He drops it out and pats you on the head before running back to the kitchen. You don’t want to drink, but Eugene would have a hissy fit if you didn’t. Reluctantly, you take a sip and swish it in your mouth before slowly gulping it.

Eugene returns a minute later with a cup of tea in his hand. He places in on the counter, putting a coaster under. Looking down, you can smell the sweetness. It’s your favourite; an orange spice with a dab of honey.

“Drink up ‘dat wata’ before you drink the tea. You’ll fell more refreshed after, and the tea will help with the dryness in your throat,” Eugene explained. He admired you as he placed a hand on your shoulder, rubbing circles into them. As you drank your water, you forced a smile and put your hand on top of yours.

“Ang��, I’m worried ‘bout you,” Eugene confessed, “You look sad, and when you’re sad-I’m sad.”

“Genie, please,” Is all you could mutter to say. “I can take care of myself. I’ve been dealing with this all my life. It’ll go away in a few hours, and I’ll be all smiles again. I promise.”

Eugene still feels guilty. He’s been around sister’s, older and younger to know what your problem is. The vomiting, the excuses, the insecurity, everything was adding up. What had saddened Eugene is that it was a lifelong issue, and it had gone untreated, and had progressively gotten worse.

“I don’t need you to force yourself to be happy. I want to help you ‘cause I love you, ma douce beauté.”

“But-“

Eugene placed a sweet kiss into your hair, “No. You stay ‘ere, docter’s orders. I’ll be right back.”

“Eugene-“

As he began to walk away, he turned around with a smile and pointed fingers. “What did I say?”

You put a finger down in defeat as you laid back, sipping on your tea. Hearing his footsteps fade into the bathroom and the water running, the tension from your shoulders disappeared as the sweet honey in the tea eased the frustration in your body. Doctor's orders, after all.

The sound of the water running in the opposite caused you to look up and see Eugene walking through the door. He came over at sat right beside you with open arms. Gene wasn’t vocal, but he was begging for your consent to hold you and comfort you. Scotting over, you slide into his arms and cuddle into his chest.

“Sorry, I didn’t want you to see that.” You mumbled into his chest, drawing little circles into them.

“No need to,” Eugene responded into your hair, planting a lingering kiss, “I just hate to see you feelin’ like ‘dis. You’re gorgeous-inside and out.”

“Gene-“

“No, ‘sha. You are.”

“But-“

A finger was placed on top your lips, slowly trailing down your chin as it was tilted up to look at Eugene. “You’ve got a great heart, soul, and body, ma petite fleur. Why can’t you see that?”

Growing frustrated, you removed Eugene’s hand and sat up, letting out a sigh. “You see something that I can’t see. I want to see it-but I can’t. I’ve never seen it, and when you say that...it just spins out of control.” Eugene sat next to see you, a hand on your thigh, listening to every word. You continued on, “I’m not trying to sound ungrateful but-you’re amazing for being my boyfriend through all of this. I know it’s not easy but...thank you.”

Eugene was the one who first knew about your eating disorder. When first meeting you, he was starstruck. Not only were you a beautiful person, but a beautiful soul. You were enchanting, and Eugene could listen to you talk for ages. But as time flew on, he became suspicious. Behind your smiles, something was terribly wrong. You would barley touch your food, wear looser clothing, say self deprecating jokes to the point where it seemed serious, and numerous concerning comments and actions. It caused Eugene to worry. He didn’t want to diagnose you officially, but he knew you had an earring disorder. So he did what Eugene knew he did best; comfort and beg you to take of yourself.

Babe Heffron, out of all the people, was the one who walked on you violently puking. He freaked out and ran to Eugene, which caused a whole shit show. From that day on, Eugene could no longer stand around and watch you hurt yourself. He made you get help, whether you liked it or not.

And it was the moment you realized that you were in love with him, and so did he.

Yes, you were getting proper help for your issues, but what was it truly helping? Your eating disorder would have food and bad days-and Eugene was always there. But the more he begged for you to eat, the more you couldn’t. One look at your body and it would trigger those horrid thoughts. You were so hungry, but you could barely eat.

“And The thing is-I’m trying to get better,” You responded as your voice cracked, “I see the therapist, I take the medication, I just…”

Seeing your shakiness, Eugene pulled you close and stroked your hair once again, whispering sweet words into your ear. “ ‘Dat’s all you can do, ‘cherie. I know you’re tryin’, you’re the bravest girl I know. I know I seem a lil’ pushy at times, and I’m sorry,” He paused before continuing, “I just worry bout you, a lot. But I need to know; what can I do that will help you? Beggin’ you to eat ain’t helpin. Montre-moi comment t'aider, ma petite colombe. Je veux enlever toute ta douleur.”

A smile curved on your cheeks as you nuzzled into his cheek, “No judgement?”

Eugene shook his head, eyeing for you to go.

Taking a second to think, you leaned back to look at your Cajun boyfriend with his pale skin and pretty dark hair.

“You’re you, I’m me. This path...is one I go down alone. You can hold my hand, but this path is mine to walk. This is my battle to fight. My recovery will take time and patience. I know I seem ungrateful, but I walk down this road alone. The only person that can fix this is me, and me alone.”

Eugene paid attention to the way your lips moved, seemingly understanding every word. Sure, it wasn't what he wanted. If he has this way, he would grab a magic wand and wish all your problems away, holding you close and protecting you from the evil’s of the world.

But even Eugene knew that the world was cruel, but a beautiful place. He couldn’t protect you from all the bad.

He showed you a subtle smile, “Ok.” He scooted closer to you, grabbing your hand, “On your bad days, can I ask you what you need from me? How can I support you? How can I do anything?”

“Yes, of course you can.” You shook your head. “You know how amazing you are, Eugene?”

“Says the amazing one. You’re so brave. My brave lady.” Eugene planted a kiss on your lips. It was gentle and soft, just like Eugene. He muttered small saying’s through the small gasps of air, such as how beautiful you were.

“Baby, promise me somethin’.”

“Yes, Genie?”

“Don’t lose sight of the importance your love has on every aspect of our life, especially you. Got me?”

“I got you, genie. Always and forever.”

Eugene lead you away from the couch and into your bathroom. Being the gentleman he was, he asked if you wanted any tea or drinks after your bath. The bath had overflown, the water dripping onto the white tiles as the noise of the water splashing into the tub ran. You noticed the candles lit all over the small bathroom and the magnolias he had picked from your garden, lying lazily on the water.

Eugene panicked, but you walked over and planted a quick kiss on your cheek. It was ok, you were okay-he was okay.

You both we’re gonna be okay.

#eugene roe #eugene roe x reader #eugene roe imagine #band of brothers x reader #band of brothers #band of brothers imagine #carrie writes #tw eating disorder

[pixiibells]

United States of Tara reaction fic!

Guys this was in my drafts from line 2014-15 and I never posted it. Here we go!!

Okay, so this episode aired allll the was back in 2009, but my husband and I found it on Netflix last week and we like it. I saw "Possibilities" and I thought Marshall and Jason were freaking adorable! Then we watched "Betrayal" and I really liked where it ended, prefect for a fan to pick up where it left off. I wrote this between that episode and the closer for season one. 

 Title: Revived

Author: Pixiebells

Fandom: United States of Tara, Season 1

Genre: Reaction fic to “Betrayal”

Pairing Marshall/Jason

“Did you do this?!”

Marshall looked up from his novel, as he read placidly on the lawn. The fire was out, and Kate had gone inside. The shed was now a burnt-out stub in the ground, with ash and papers soaked in water, little memories floating around, soon turning to garbage. “Oh, yeah, sorry about that. Something just came over me.” He glared at his mother.

“Oh, don’t you dare do that!” Tara growled at him. “Don’t you fucking condescend me like that!”

“So you’re mad about this?” He shot back, annoyed.

“Of course I am! You burned our fucking shed down, Marshall!”

“Oh, so you get to make irrational, stupid decisions with little to not consequence but the second I act out, it’s wrong.”

“We’re wrong either way!” she shouted. “But in my defense, I wasn’t fully aware of what I was doing. You, however, are.”

She sighed and sat down on the edge of his chair.

“Look, we both screwed up, okay? Do you really think I’m happy about all this? Do you think I like making a mess of everything I touch? Barely able to keep a job, or get through a weekend of in-laws? Or have a normal afternoon at the spa with my sister?”

“Back to self-pity, again. You’re shameless.”

She grabbed his book and threw it on the lawn, aggravated. “I’m sorry, I didn’t order extra snark with this conversation. What is your problem?”

“Right now? You. You are my problem. I really liked him, and maybe, maybe he likes me back. Do you think I was happy putting myself through that disturbing production, just to spend time with him? What kind of origin story would that be for our adopted children? ‘Your father and I met because I thought he was cute, and he thought pretending to burn in hell for perfectly valid feelings was a fun way to spend a Sunday afternoon.'”

“Oh my God, you’ve already imagined adopting kids with him?” she chucked good-naturedly, despite herself. She didn’t want to insult her son’s feelings, but that was one hell of a crush.

“Well, yeah. I’m like a wolf, or a clown fish, or whatever animals mate for life. Point is, I like one guy at a time. And when I like him, I really like him. And Jason’s not shallow like a lot of people my age. He’s rare. He’s kind of special. And he’s grown up in this totally controlling, unhealthy environment and maybe now he’ll let his guard down a little.”

“Aww, sweetie. I’m sorry.”

Tara’s anger melted away like the magazine clippings T had plastered on the walls of the shed last summer. She’d found every image of Justin Beiber she could get her hands on, and wrote “PUSSY BITCH” and “FUCK BELIEBERS” and the semi-political “DON’T TALK ABOUT ANNE FRANK LIKE THAT!” In red Sharpie all over his stupid face.

She hugged Marshall, and his anger melted just like his bike had. “I promise I’ll never make out with boys you like again.”

“You better not.” He replied in her ear, finally relaxed. They parted and he spoke again: “I’m sorry too. I know that was kinda your…place.” His guilt finally caught up to him.

“It’s fine. You know, maybe it needed to go. Maybe that was just cosmic timing. You know, my therapist basically dumped me today.”

“Really? Aww, I was trying to think of some puns or a catch phrase for you guys, like a reference to Ocean’s Eleven or something.”.

Tara smiled in appreciation. “I love how creative you are. I’ve always loved that about you. But hey, maybe it’s a chance for a new start, you know? Maybe I should get this new therapist, or  go back on the meds.”

“No, no, don’t do that just for my sake. That should be your choice, my melodrama notwithstanding.”

“Thank you. And I’d do it for us. All of us. It’s just something I’m tossing around anyway. Come on, why don’t we go inside?” she mended fences, picking up his book and handed it back to him as he got up.

“Just one more thing?”

“Yeah?”

“Was he at least a good kisser?”

“Oohh, details!” she squeaked. “Why? You wanna kiss him?”

“Already did, actually.” he beamed, content with his conquest..

“Oh, well done, playa.”

“And then he kissed back.”

“Ooooh!”

“But it was so quick I wasn’t sure. So…”

“He was all right. Not terrible, not great. Not much experience. Well,” she teasingly looked to him, “not yet.”

“Mom.” he blushed, looking away.

They had reached the kitchen by then. Kate was back up in her room and Max was washing his hands.

“OK,” Tara  breathed a sigh, “I’m gonna go change, get cleaned up. Start helping out with dinner.”

As she went upstairs, Marshall sat at the counter and struck up a conversation with Max. “Dad?”

“You and mom work things out?” he asked, pulling a roast pan out of the cupboard.

“Yeah, and I’m sorry.”

“It’s all right. Just, don’t do it again, okay?”

“Okay. I am sorry.”

“You’re fine, it’s cool. Not the first fire I’ve put out today,” he remarked with a smile.

“I have kind of an important question. About Mom and her alters.”

“What’s that?” he asked, while rummaging through the freezer.

“When she’s T, and she’s hitting on some other guy, or, making out with someone half her age. How do you get over it? You guys have been together for almost 20 years. Doesn’t at least a little part of you get insanely jealous?”

“On some level, yeah.” Max agreed, sticking a bowl of water in the microwave.  “But I remind myself of a couple things. It’s temporary, it’s meaningless, and it’s not really her. To be honest, when she’s…not herself, I actually don’t really, uh…”

“Oh,” Marshall was taken aback. “So when she’s not herself, you guys don’t…”

“We agreed it was weird. So it makes it easy to disconnect.”

“That makes sense. Sorry if that was a weird question.”

“Aw, come on. We both know that’s the tip of the weird iceberg around here.” Max winked at his son.

Marshall chuckled, relived. Just then, there was a knock at the door.

“I’ll get that, you’re starting dinner,” he said, rising from his seat. Max thanked him and turned back to the microwave, hot water now ready for thawing.

He opened the door and Jason was there, looking a bit anxious.

“Oh,” Marshall’s mood immediately cooled off. He was square with his mom, but Jason didn’t exactly fight her off, and he was still hurt. 

“Sorry, my mom’s not available right now.” He contemplated closing the door, but settled on giving him an icy glare instead.

“Look, I’m really sorry. And believe me when I say I’m not interested in any…version of your mom. I didn’t mean to hurt your feelings. If it makes you feel any better, it was weird. And I’m not into labels or whatever, but I really do like you. And your family’s kinda cool. Hell of a lot better than mine.”

“OK, OK,” God damn, he was so cute...he couldn’t throw him away after one weird afternoon, “you’re off the hook. I might have gone a little overboard…”

“Holy shit, that was you?” Jason’s eyes widened. “Whoa…I hope I never piss you off.”

“I…got…jealous.” he stammered. “Sorry if that’s weird for you.”

“I’ll take as a…compliment.” Jason said with a shrug.

They shared a smile, relieved at last.

“So…maybe we can hang out later on?” Jason suggested. “I mean, if you still want to.”

“I do want to.” Marshall quickly replied. He still had a shot! “We’re gonna have dinner in a little while, but maybe...” he reached over and tucked back a lock of hair that has fallen over his eyes, “we could go for a walk first?”

“Sounds good to me.” Jason agreed, grinning.

“Okay.” Marshall said quickly, voice teeming with excitement.

He bounded inside and let his dad know they’d be out.

“I’ll be back for dinner,” he promised.

“No rush.” Max smiled back, reassuringly.

Marshall waltzed out the door, and they walked off, together.

THE END.

#united states of tara #season 1 #marshall/jason #what could've been #omg so cute #old post #fanfiction

[stargirlfics]

Thanks so much for your response as well as the lovely person who commented on my ask. I’ve always prided myself in my academic ability but I used it as a way to be self deprecating.( I.e “I need to be smart in order to compensate for my lack of attractiveness”. ) It’s gotten to the point where I refuse to crush on people because I don’t believe that they’d like me, which is dramatic even for a leo. It feels like every time I find something good about myself, I find a way to spin it. Any tips?🐣

I think part of it is kinda conditioning your brain to not spin it so you just have to keep complimenting yourself and writing down things that you find you like about yourself or are good positive qualities about yourself

Write those down, hang them up on your wall or put them on your mirror somewhere, your first reflex each time is to spin it into something negative and that’s ok, it’s a reflex, it’s a pattern you’re used to but you can try and train yourself little by little to really accept those good things about you it just takes patience and isn’t an easy fix

My therapist sent me this little worksheet of sorts about countering negative thoughts that you can download and it’s been helpful for me trying to get out of that way of thinking about myself so I hope that can help! 💓

#🐣 anon #advice #asks