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ladymaigrey · 3 years

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In search of a true filter

This is a personal and rambling thought-dump. Enter at your own peril.

TL:DR my daughter might have ADHD. And, maybe, so do I? The meaning of this label in our lives is a choice for me to make. The choice itself doesn’t scare me nearly as much as the concept that it is a choice.

I am supposed to be writing at the moment, but my brain cannot settle down into the comforting niche of torture and angst that is Matt Murdock's brain. Or, rather, maybe, it's no longer comforting? (why it ever was/can be - is NOT the question I am going to be dissecting here!)

The fact that perceptions change, though, is something that has been occupying me in the past few days, in a rather obsessive and, yep, torturous way.

See, late last week, a counsellor who has been working with my 7yo daughter to help her with some anxieties and difficulties making friends, told me that I might consider having her assessed for ADHD, because some of her behaviors were consistent with that syndrome, as it presented in girls (which is very different to the way it normally presents in boys, i.e. hyperactivity is not necessarily a feature at all). The counsellor made the comment almost offhandedly: it wasn't a big deal. If she had ADHD, it was probably on the milder end of the spectrum as it didn't drastically impact her school work and, really, in terms of the counselling work, nothing would change because counsellors deal with the presentation as is and do what works with that particular individual regardless of what label might be attached.

Which is great, as far as my daughter's counselling journey is concerned.

But it threw me for a loop, and out of kilter, and totally twisted my knickers (and what other aphorism can I throw into this?) It sent me down a whirlwind of anxiety-ridden thoughts and questions. See, after just a little research, it became bleeding obvious that, yes, my daughter certainly has some of the behaviors, but so do I. And I always had!

And, on one hand, knowing that there is a possible neurological explanation for the troubles I had as a child and still have as an adult (including my pervasive anxiety) - did spark an "ah huh!" moment, and a feeling of vindication. On the other hand - that punitive self-loathing-but-maybe-true "other" hand - what I always considered to be unique and subversively delightful about my personality - things that I took pride in even if they often triggered a condemnation (or, at least, dismissal) from the rest of the society - well, they weren't things to revel in. They were signs of "brokenness".

Yes, that's a big part of the fight that neuro-diverse community has had: to NOT be considered "broken", to stay proud of who they are and their differences and their strengths, to demand a change in the society that functions with and for neurotypicals only while dismissing the inconveniently-different.

Still, I see that most people simply don't have enough self-insight to identify their own emotions and thoughts, let alone admit to themselves their own ingrained prejudices, and be able to modulate their responses. I see that neuroatypicality means a lifetime of battling uphill against those prejudices and against the lack of accommodations/understandings that our society, by and large, has no motivation to change. The way of the majority does rule in a society - that's what a society IS. I see that, whatever I am, whyever I am so - I am struggling to function every single day, I always struggled to find people who understood and accepted me, and I do not wish that for my daughter.

And, now, I am also questioning all of my perspectives (excuses?) regarding my daughter. For example, her talkativeness. Is she a "miss chatterbox" because her dad and grandmother are just Like That, and she inherited it from them, or is that a "red flag"? Are her difficulties with spelling a sign of abnormal lack of ability to stay focused, not just the fact that she is half-a-year younger than the rest of her classmates, and that English is a truly stupid language to write in, and that she will catch up in time. Her wish to hug people, even those who are not close friends, whom she met maybe five minutes ago - is that an endearingly optimistic view of the world, which she sees as mostly kind and deserving of embrace - or is that a "hyper-social behavior"?

And, beyond all of that, I question the malleability and impermanence of "one's truth", and, though that, question any human's ability to determine the truth of anything. After all, nothing has actually changed in the last week. Nothing, but strumming of air molecules in the space between two people; nothing but a label placed on a cluster of common actions of a bright little girl in the now, and of another bright little girl in a middle-aged woman's memory.

And yet, it changed the whole filter through which I see... well, almost everything (now that I am hyperfocusing and stressing about it, and is that a symptom, too?)

I am going to speak to my counsellor about it all this week. But, I am a (trainee) counsellor, too. So I can almost predict that through questions and soft suggestions, she will nudge me towards making what probably is the healthiest choice for me: to choose for the label to Not Matter. To look at what IS in my daughter's behaviors and how it affects her right now, not what it might or might not mean underneath or in the future.

That's probably what I will have to do, for my own sanity and to continue being a mum who tries to accept her daughter as she is not as I'd like her to be.

What bothers me, though, is that it IS a choice. All our perceptional interpretations are a choice - a choice of what thoughts and emotions we nurture and listen to. The filter which we look through the world on is a choice (often one that we made before we knew we had a choice to make, but one we made as the most optimum means to survive in the environment we were born into).

And, if it's a choice - then it does not necessarily reflect objective reality (if there's even such a thing; metaphysics makes my brain leak out my ears, so I am not going there).

There's a type of 3rd generation cognitive-behavioral therapy which has proven to be quite helpful with a number of different psychological disorders: acceptance and commitment therapy (ACT). One of the ideas of ACT is to identify goals that are congruent with your personal values and learn how to keep your eyes on the goal, while managing any thoughts/emotions that are unhelpful to you from reaching your goals. There's no judgement on what the goal is, nor focus on unearthing why particular emotions are triggered. So, essentially, it's about helping you craft the filter of your choice which you think is most likely to benefit your wellbeing.

It is something I believe often works, I can see its appeal - it's a comfort and gives a sense of control.

I use emotion/thought controlling techniques every day to help me function (without them, I don't think I would be able to keep my job or continue studying, and I would be even harder person to be around for my family). I remind myself of having a choice to shape my reality, despite what anyone says (and damn the "society")...

And yet, I fear I am lying to myself every single day, and I have no way of finding the "truth".

#adhd #tw: ableism #psychology #personal #mypost #I am OK #I just needed this out of my head and I wanted to write #this is the result #I wish I was writing DD fics instead

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rosemaidenvixen · 3 years

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A Secret’s Worth

Chapter 16: Walter

Ao3

Over the years Strickler had lost track of how many times another changeling had made a joke about how it must rankle him to teach history that he knew was false from firsthand experience.

But what most other changelings didn’t realize was that between ineffective funding and highly biased textbooks he’d be teaching falsehoods one way or another.

The truly ironic thing about being a changeling educator was being forced to leave out key events responsible for shaping the modern world as they knew it that no human was aware even occurred.

“Can anyone tell me who the final king of Camelot was?”

The predictable grouping of hands went up; Claire Nuñez, Seamus Johnson, Darci Scott, Eli Pepperjack. He had no doubt that they all knew the correct answer, maybe it was time to check that one of his less alert students was still mentally present in some capacity.

“Ms. Longhannon?”

The girl in question jerked her gaze away from the window “Wha?”

A chorus of snickers came up from around her. Shannon flushed.

“We were discussing the final ruler of Camelot, Ms. Longhannon,”

“Oh….that was King Arthur…..right?”

He smiled “Correct,”

Pressing a button on the remote in his palm, Strickler switched the view on the projector to a timeline extending from the years 400 to 1200 “The Pendragon Empire, founded by Uther Pendragon in the fifth century, lasted until the early twelfth century, ending during the upheaval surrounding the death of his descendent, Arthur Pendragon. A large part of the chaos after Arthur’s death was due to the fact that Arthur left no immediate heirs apparent. That combined with crumbling infrastructure and opportunistic invasions from neighboring nations is what led to the fracturing of the empire,”

Strickler paused as the soft scratching of pencils on paper filled the room.

Neighboring nations, what drivel, it was enough to make any self respecting changeling want to laugh and vomit at the same time.

Granted, Strickler himself hadn’t been present for Camelot’s true downfall. He’d been a young changeling back then, trying to sell a remote clan of Slavic trolls on the benefits of an alliance with the Gumm Gumms.

He hadn’t succeeded. But in the end it turned out rather moot.

No, that was putting it far too mildly. It had taken over a century for the Janus Order to recover from the chaos; setting their goals back by nearly a millennium.

Arthur might have lost the battle against his kingdom falling, but the victory he’d gained in the war was exponentially greater.

He’d prevented the extinction of the entire human race.

Strickler shut his eyes and pulled in a deep breath to ground himself back in the present as the last few students finished taking their notes.

No.

Not prevented. Delayed.

“Your final project will be done in groups, each group will be assigned a single century during the Pendragon empire and will put together a presentation summarizing the events and the impact of your assigned century. This presentation should last twenty minutes and we will be doing them in class at the end of the month,”

The entire room broke out into groans.

Strickler chuckled good naturedly “Consider it a small price to pay for not having any work over spring break, now I want you all to break into your groups, three to five people each, and have one member select your century, and enough rubrics for all of you,” he gestured towards the small slips of papers on his desk sitting next to a fat stack of rubrics “The rest of the hour will be in class work time, so I suggest you get started,”

There was a shuffle of desks and sneakers as the students settled into their groups, a handful darting up and snatching their centuries and rubrics under Strickler’s keen eye. Had to make sure everyone settled into proper groups and keep track of who was working on what century after all. He waited until things had nearly settled down before speaking up again.

“Jim Lake,”

The boy in question started in his seat, both him and his groupmates turning and looking at Strickler inquisitively.

“Yeah?”

“Do you mind stepping outside with me for a moment?”

Based on his expression Jim certainly minded quite a bit, a gauntness present in his features that hadn’t been there a month ago, but he stood from his chair all the same “Ok….sure,”

Strickler ignored the course of oohs that filled the room as Jim headed over to meet him at the door. Only after he had stepped out and closed the door behind them, the two alone in the hallway, did Strickler speak again.

“Jim, I’ve been monitoring your behavior these past few weeks, and quite frankly I’m concerned,”

Someone less observant and experienced at the art of subterfuge would have missed the subtle way Jim’s shoulders stiffened, the flicker of panic on his face before it settled into a calm veneer.

But Strickler missed nothing.

Jim forced out an uncomfortable laugh “Well...uh, sorry to worry you, but I’m totally fine,”

Strickler had to bite back a sigh. It looked like Jim, not unexpectedly, had decided to be evasive; no matter. In that case the only thing to do was strike at the heart of the issue, bluntly and without delay.

He whipped a comb out of his front pocket; cheap and still sealed in its plastic packaging, but very fine toothed, holding it out in front of him “I want you to run this through your hair,”

Blinking, Jim stared at the comb and then back up at Strickler “....are you serious?”

“Humor me,”

Looking more confused than anything else, Jim slowly took the comb, pulled it from its wrapper, and ran it through his hair once before promptly handing it back “There, is that all? Because I need to--”

“Jim. Look at the comb.”

He did, all the color instantly draining from his face.

From end to end the comb’s teeth were stuffed to the brim with short, black hairs.

“Your hair is falling out.” Strickler’s tone brooked no questioning. He wasn’t asking, he was stating a fact “So do not tell me that everything is fine. If everything were fine you wouldn’t be losing your hair from stress,”

Of course there were plenty of non-stress related medical conditions that could cause a sixteen year old boy to start losing his hair, but Strickler found that his intuition was rarely wrong.

Jim hadn’t so much as twitched, standing frozen in place, eyes wide and locked on the comb.

Strickler let out a sigh and tossed the comb into a nearby trash can “I’m going to be frank with you Jim, I know CPS is investigating your family,”

Now that got a reaction, Jim snapping his head up, breathing quick and shallow, voice tight with pure panic “You do!?”

“Keep your voice down, yes, the investigator called the school with a few questions,” Strickler saw no reason to bring up the fact that he had been the one to make the initial call, much less that he had done so at the behest of Mr. Domzalski.

“But I’m not going to ask about that. That case is a matter between your family and the state, now if you want to talk I am more than willing to listen, but I’m not going to pry into your family’s private matters,”

Just like that the wind went out of his sails. Jim practically going limp, swaying on his feet overcome with relief. But before he could relax too much, Strickler was talking again.

“That being said, in the weeks that the investigation has been going on, I have become seriously troubled by your behavior,”

“What...behavior...are you talking about?”

“You’re anxious and unfocused, I’ve caught you nodding off in class no fewer than three times in the past week. And this is pure speculation on my part, but I don’t think you’ve been getting nearly enough to eat, which could be contributing to your hair loss,”

Squirming under his scrutiny, Jim ran a shaky hand through his hair, before he quickly realized what he was doing and pulled it away “Ok things have been hard… and maybe I’ve missed a meal or two...but I’ve just...really been focusing on keeping my grades up,”

It was true. Strickler happened to know for a fact that Jim was pulling all A’s in every subject. But while that was a fact it certainly wasn’t the whole truth.

“You’re grades are exceptional, and normally I would applaud you for being so diligent with your studies, but I get the feeling you’ve been hyperfocusing on your schoolwork in order to avoid dealing with the other problems in your life,”

From the way Jim flinched at his words, breath catching in his throat, Strickler knew he’d struck the truth.

“Look...I...I know that there’s a lot going on, but I swear I can handle it,”

“Jim--”

“I promise it’s really not that bad,”

“Not that bad? For goodness sake Jim, your hair is falling out!”

The boy had no response to that, downcast eyes locked on the floor, unable to meet Strickler’s gaze.

Squaring his shoulders, Strickler clasped his hands together and netted his fingers in front of him. Bluntness had served its purpose in this conversation, now it was time for the olive branch “With everything going on in your life I imagine it must feel like you’re carrying the world on your shoulders,”

“Yeah,” Jim mumbled “Something like that,”

Strickler gave him a small smile “Have you heard of the greek myth of Atlas?

Jim looked up at that “No….should I have?”

“Atlas was a titan that took part in the war between the gods and titans, and when the titans lost Atlas was condemned to hold up the sky for all eternity,”

“Okay…but what does that have to do with...me?”

“In the myth Atlas alone bore the weight of the entire world on his shoulders, but Jim, you aren’t Atlas. However heavy your burden is, you don’t have to bear it alone. The faculty here can put you in touch with some excellent counselors and--”

“Actually I really don’t need anything like that,” Jim stepped around him and tried to go back into the classroom “And I should really be getting started on--”

“Jim.” Strickler allowed a trace of stone to creep into his voice “We are not done talking.”

The boy froze midstep, slowly turning back towards him with clear hesitation.

Once Jim was facing him again Strickler cleared his throat and started over “The purpose of counselors and therapists isn’t to scrutinize you or your family, but to give you tools and resources, coping mechanisms to help you better deal with the struggles life throws at you. And before you ask, no, you don’t have to talk about the investigation with them either,”

Jim’s mouth abruptly twisted into a scowl “If I don’t have to talk to them then why should I bother...even….”

He trailed off once he noticed Strickler’s expression, the boy couldn’t possibly see down to the depths of Strickler’s true thoughts, but he clearly saw something that gave him pause.

“...sorry,” Jim muttered, looking down and away.

Strickler just stared back at him evenly.

One didn’t survive as a high school teacher without developing a thick skin in regard to teenage impertinence. But this kind of snide back talk was far more in line coming from Steve, or even Seamus. Hearing it from Jim it was...troubling.

Not wasting any more time, Strickler pulled a sticky note out of his pocket and held it out “Here are a few of the counselors and therapists that I most recommend, but if you want more options let me know and I can get you a complete list,”

Jim didn’t move, arms not so much as twitching from their position at his sides. Staring at the note with a sour expression on his face.

“I’m not going to force you to go see any of them, but you will take their contact information and keep it,” One of Strickler’s eyebrows quirked up “Unless of course accepting the contact information of guidance counselors and therapists would put you at risk for some reason? If that is the case I certainly wouldn’t want to put you in any danger, but I would need to know exactly what kind of danger you would be in,”

Jim chewed on his lip, fists clenching and unclenching at his sides.

Strickler held his gaze, kept his hand extended, and waited.

Finally after what must have been a solid minute, Jim reluctantly reached up and took the note. Tucking it into his pocket under Strickler’s close scrutiny “Can I go back in now?”

Strickler frowned. He was not pleased with how this had turned out. Despite his best efforts the boy seemed dead set on refusing every helping hand extended his way. But as the saying went, one could lead a horse to water, but can’t make them drink. The only thing to do was continue to offer the water and hope one day he bent his head and accepted.

“You can, but please remember, as a teacher it’s not just my job to educate you, myself and every other staff member in this building has an obligation to look after your wellbeing, so please don’t forget that, young Atlas,”

Jim rolled his eyes “Yeah, sure,”

Strickler frowned; darker, harder this time, Jim shrinking under the force of his gaze. Brusqueness gone as quickly as it had come.

“I...I’m sorry…”

It wasn’t as though Strickler was losing his patience with the boy, compared to his dealings with the order’s underlings this was as relaxing as a day at the spa. Rather he was becoming increasingly concerned by Jim’s uncharacteristic outbursts.

Despite Jim’s best efforts to bury his troubles and pretend that they didn’t exist, his woes were finding their way to the surface one way or another.

“More people care about you than you know Jim,”

Strickler was suddenly struck by inspiration. For whatever reason Jim wasn’t comfortable reaching out to Strickler, or any other adult it seemed. Perhaps the idea was to appeal to his peer relationships.

“Like your friends,”

He gestured towards the window in the classroom door, at cluster of five desks with four students at them in particular “You happen to be graced with a group of companions who would go to the ends of the earth to help you, not everyone can be so fortunate,”

Strickler turned his head slightly, trying to gauge Jim’s reaction. But to his shock, rather than looking relieved or even uncertain, something hard and inscrutable had settled over Jim’s face.

“Yeah, they would wouldn’t they,”

The boy’s tone cinched it. Strickler had accomplished all that he could for today, pushing Jim any further right now would do more harm than good.

With only a pang of reluctance, Strickler opened the door and allowed Jim back inside, following shortly after.

He went over to his desk to grade quizzes while the students worked for the rest of the hour, Jim taking his seat at the cluster of desks, rejoining his companions and enmeshing himself in their project.

Despite his best efforts to file this incident in the back of his mind, Strickler found himself dwelling on his brief interaction with Jim. Keeping a subtle eye on him and his group.

Strickler had been doing this for a very long time and found that for good or for ill, his intuition was rarely wrong.

You can lead a horse to water but you can’t make it drink, only keep offering and hope one day he bent his head and accepted it. And Strickler’s intuition was telling him that Jim would break before he ever bent.

#tales of arcadia #Trollhunters #fanfic #A Secret's Worth #rmvwrites #walter strickler #jim lake jr

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ajoblotofjunk · 3 years

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Sorry for the unsolicited ask, but I remember seeing you said that Ned Stark was Lawful Neutral. What DnD alignments do you see for the rest of the characters at the beginning of their journeys and where they are now in the books? Also, what should have the TV adapted from the book and what should the book series take from the TV’s changes and pitfalls?

Hi! I love unsolicited asks, no apologies necessary. :)

I’m going to pick a handful of some of the more interesting-to-me POV characters since it’s been a minute since I did a book re-read and also there are a ton of characters in this story. So. If there’s someone in particular you were hoping for, you can ask!

Ned Stark - Lawful-neutral from start to finish, ALTHOUGH. I think Ned’s great tragedy is that at the very end he bent and it didn’t do shit for him anyway. He still was killed, because he’d gone too far and he was too unwilling to bend when he had more power. Also my first D&D character ever was a LN gnome fighter and I just have a lot of feelings about LN fighters.

Catelyn Stark - Here’s a hot take: I think Cat is True Neutral at the beginning, and then when things start to happen to her family she slips a bit into Neutral-Evil, with the selfishness focused around her pain and her family’s well-being. (There’s an argument to be made that she’s chaotic-good/chaotic-neutral but I think Cat feels more strongly about authority than that suggests.)

Arya Stark (yes, my secret is out: I am a Stark fan) - Arya is very chaotic-good at the beginning of the story and where we’ve left her, I think she’s chaotic-neutral and poised on a tipping point where she could slip to chaotic-evil but I think she’s gonna go back to CG. Maybe True Neutral, but I don’t see her becoming the true Faceless Man archetype that requires in the books (in the show I think she did become TN).

Cersei Lannister - I think Cersei is Lawful-Evil, because Tywin is Lawful-Evil and she thinks she’s female Tywin. In reality she’s probably Neutral Evil, especially where we’re at in the books, though she still lets herself be bound by authority in a way that suggests she might still be LE.

Tyrion Lannister - Okay here’s the thing. I don’t like Tyrion. Which, if you’ve read my fics, is probably not a surprise to discover. I liked him in the early books! But as he’s gone on I’ve liked him less and less and now he just annoys the crap out of me in ASOIAF. I think Tyrion was probably True Neutral at the beginning; honestly there’s an argument that he might’ve been Neutral-Good, but he’s definitely Neutral-Evil now, MAYBE Chaotic-Neutral if I were being generous with him. Which I am not.

Jaime Lannister - Jaime has had I think the biggest alignment shift out of anyone in the entire series. I think he started life as Lawful-Good, and then when the authority he trusted betrayed him, he shifted to an outward Chaotic Neutral/inward Chaotic Good that’s struggling to reassert itself. I think where he’s at now in the series is transitioned into that Chaotic Goodness more outwardly, and I think by the end of the series he’ll be fully CG, POSSIBLY Neutral Good but I’m not sure I see him making that shift completely.

Brienne of Tarth - Brienne is maybe my all-time favorite character of anything ever, so I have a lot of Opinions about her and this one I hold dear: I think a lot of fandom thinks she’s Lawful-Good, but I think she’s Neutral-Good. She is extremely driven by keeping her promises, but not, IMO, because of the weight of authority but because of the weight of her own moral beliefs in making a promise. She wants to do good because it’s the right thing to do, not because any oaths she takes tell her to. It’s why she was willing to hear Jaime out about what he did to Aerys when others (like Ned) wouldn’t - because she recognizes that good is the choice, not the oath. BECAUSE HERE’S THE DEAL. If Brienne were Lawful-Good, she would have stayed and married someone on Tarth. But she’s not. So she didn’t. I think she will retain her Neutral-Goodness through the series. I could see her slipping to maybe Chaotic-Good, but honestly I think she’ll stay NG/return to NG by the end.

I am very curious if people disagree on any of these (even Brienne!) so discussion encouraged. :)

Whew, that was pretty long. And I still have more of this question to answer! So the rest I’m putting under a Keep Reading cut.

What should have the TV adapted from the book and what should the book series take from the TV’s changes and pitfalls?

This is a really complicated question, and I really like it, but I’m not sure I feel confident answering it.

I think the TV show suffered from trying to refine an unfinished story to its core themes without knowing where George was going to end (except I guess with Bran as King?). I used to think that the choices they made about what they left out where telling - all of the Targaryen nonsense limited just to Dany and not any of the other stuff, for instance - but given the finale, I think D & D both hyperfocused only on keeping the main points they needed for what they saw as the end while also only paying off the bones of what they’d adapted from the first three books and didn’t have room for the ways GRRM expanded the story after the third book nor for the ways his end will probably be more complicated than the one they were limited to by it being a TV finale.

All of which is to say: I would have loved them to adapt the Lady Stoneheart arc, particularly for Brienne, but that D&D had no idea how to make that work within the confines of what their limitations both of what they’d chosen to focus on previously and TV, and so I understand why they didn’t. I would have loved, as well, to have more depth and see more of the Dorne arc with Arianne and Myrcella and Tristan, but that adds a whole season’s worth of episodes that the show just could not absorb. The show was forced to choose early to focus on the Starks and the Lannisters, with Dany as a third party, and they never were able to sway from that.

If I were starting over from scratch, I would have to have a long talk with GRRM and figure out what his point is, and work backward from there. I don’t get the sense D & D worked backward from anything but the Red Wedding.

(To be honest, if I were writing the show, I’d do everything the same up to season 6, at which point I’d separate Jaime and Cersei, and make it all about setting up the War of the Five Queens in s6, then we deal with the threat of the White Walkers as a serious, full-season arc for season 7, and then spend season 8 paying off the Queens War and ending with whatever thematic ending it is GRRM is going toward (humans are the ultimate monsters! Women make it work! Women fuck it up just as badly as the men did! Democracy for everyone! Peace is tentative and must be fought for in a tense standoff that all of these older, weary women now understand! Which is what I would have chosen. heh.)

As for the other way, what do I think GRRM should learn from the show. I mean I love the tent scene and would love to see something like that adapted somehow to the books (when Jaime comes to Winterfell to fight, would be my personal suggested placement; imagine the drama and romance!). I think GRRM could also stand to learn from streamlining to key characters and plots, which is what I hope he’s doing in TWOW. But where we’re at in the story in the books is so different from where the show went that I think it’s hard to make any specific suggestions. Mostly I just really want him to look at the story he’s telling and understand it, and recognize that it may have changed certain endings he may have considered previously before his story unfolded itself and he realizes that Jaime and Brienne living on Tarth can be the sweet part of the bittersweet. Ahem.

#asoiaf #game of thrones #meta #jaime x brienne #sort of #this got long whew #long post #asks answered #anonymous

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thepancakeboi · 3 years

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An Unexpected Growth Spurt

So it barely took five minutes before this idea by @hetyra sent me down the rabbit hole of getting ideas and hyperfocusing on it rather than my current stuff. Whoops? No regrets. These types of fun reactions, where Ren is being such a goddamn menace towards Goro, are among my favorite to write. I will disclose this right now: I know very little about the storyline of Persona 5 Strikers outside of “sequel set in the summer after Persona 5 events″. As a result, it’s only there as a timing thing and a reference, but it’s fine. Anyway, I hope you enjoy this writing that gave me dopamine and serotonin in spades!

01/01/2018, 10:39 AM > Ren: Meiji Shrine it is! I can’t wait to see you.

I keep looking at that last text over and over as I stand here by the torii, awaiting Ren’s arrival. It’s been over a year since I last saw him. I’m lucky I was even able to get in touch with him, but...was coming here a mistake?

I’m not the type to get nervous, but I never thought I would see him again. With everything that happened between us, he shouldn’t even want to meet up with me. That and he probably assumed I was dead. The last time I saw him was in the engine room of Shido’s Palace. That place should have been my grave, yet somehow I had survived. I hadn’t told anyone. Truth be told, I hadn’t wanted anyone to know I was alive.

I...simply wanted to disappear.

Even now, I have the urge to leave before I can potentially reunite with Ren. Whatever had come over me last night, in that spur of the moment decision to text Ren after a year of silence, is gone. This whole idea is a mistake. He has much better ways to spend his time than wasting it on me. He’s probably been with his precious friends doing who knows what. There’s no way he needs someone like me in his life. He’s got all the people he could ever want. That’s it. I’m leaving now, before-

“Goro? Is that you?”

I freeze. His voice is a little deeper than I remember, but I would know it anywhere. I turn around, my heart leaping in my chest at seeing Ren. Although he’s not wearing his glasses this time, he hasn’t changed a bit. Even his hair is as unkempt as ever. It’s almost like I went back in time, to days where I wasn’t his (attempted) murderer. There are so many things I want to say, but all I can manage is a simple, “Hey, Ren.”

And he grins. Yet another thing that hasn’t changed: that beautiful smile. I can tell he’s barely stopping himself from running and pulling me into a hug as he approaches. I’m thankful for his restraint. There’s no telling what my reaction would have been. “Hi, Akeppi.”

I huff, shaking my head. “I was hoping you forgot that damn nickname.” And me as well, some small part of me silently adds.

“You know you like it.” Smug as ever, the menace. “I missed you. Where have you been? You never told me.”

Straight to the point, I see. I had very purposefully avoided the dogged questions about how I was alive or where I’d been. It didn’t seem like the type of thing to discuss through instant messages. This needed to be a face-to-face conversation. “I was at a rehab center, believe it or not.”

“You were?”

Nodding, I force myself to continue. He deserves to know what happened. “It’s outside of Tokyo...and it’s where my mother would go. I went there on Christmas Eve without an appointment, but they accepted me anyway. The only time I had left between then and now was when I heard word that you were being detained.”

“Oh?”

“I couldn’t just sit by and do nothing. After all, you did change Shido’s heart for me. So, I helped your friends track down the woman in your assault case.”

“Wait, did they know you were alive and didn’t tell me?”

“No, nothing like that,” I reassure him, letting Ren know that his friends hadn’t kept my survival a secret from him. “I gave them what information I could find, anonymously, of course. They probably wouldn’t have accepted it if they knew who it came from.”

“Come on, give them a little more credit than that.”

I don’t think I can, especially when two of my victims had been Futaba Sakura’s mother and Haru Okumura’s father. “Either way, what about you? You’re a third-year now, yes?”

“Yeah. A lot’s happened since...” He stops for a moment. Something tells me the reason he stopped isn’t pleasant. Could it be he was about to say “since our last fight”, or something of that caliber? He quickly snaps out of it, though, beaming once again as he continues. “Oh, I saved Christmas by summoning satan to shoot god in the face!”

If he were any other person, I might have figured him insane. Even so, I can’t hide my surprise as I stammer, “You...what?”

“We went into the depths of Mementos to find its treasure. Never want to go there again. And then we fought the holy grail, which was really a god who was controlling everyone. I summoned this huge Persona, Satanael, and we shot god in the face!”

I chuckle at that. It all sounds so impossible, yet anything’s possible in the Metaverse. “If only I could have seen such a sight.” Upon seeing Ren’s melancholy look, I quickly add, “What else happened after that?”

“I went back home in March.” He doesn’t seem too thrilled about that detail. I know he preferred living at Leblanc over with his own parents, who never seemed to contact him while he was on probation. “And then I came back for summer vacation with the rest of the Phantom Thieves. But then the Metaverse came back, and these places called Jails were showing up, and...well, it’s a long story.”

“Perhaps for another time. Your life certainly has been interesting.”

“I wish you could’ve been there, but I’m happy you’re still alive. I...didn’t know what happened to you. Everyone else thought you were dead, but I just couldn’t believe it. I kept hoping that you weren’t. I really did miss you, Goro.” And I believe it, somehow.

“I apologize for not contacting you until yesterday. I know I should have. I cannot imagine what you must have gone through, and-”

“It’s okay!” he replies, a little too quickly. It makes me wonder how he handled my supposed death. I won’t pry. If he wants to tell me one day, it’ll be when he wants. He finally pulls me into the hug he’s likely been waiting for this whole time, gently running his fingers through my hair. “Your hair’s shorter than before.”

“Is that a problem?” I know it’s only a simple observation, but I can’t help but assume he doesn’t like it.

“No. I just noticed. That’s all. You look cute with short hair.”

“I’m not cute,” I immediately retort.

“Are too.”

“Well, you haven’t changed a-” I pause. Some small detail is pulling at my attention, but what is it? “Wait a minute. Did you...?”

“Did I what?” he asks, clearly as confused as I am.

I move out of his embrace to back up a few steps, looking at his footwear. He isn’t wearing heels, which means... “Have you...grown since we last saw each other?”

“Hmm? Oh, yeah, a little. Why?”

“How much?”

“I dunno, five centimeters?”

“Damnit,” I hiss. “Who said you were allowed to have a growth spurt!?”

Clarity lights up his face as he realizes the reason for my irritable reaction. “Oh, right. You hated when I was taller as Joker. Does it bother you that I’m taller than you now?”

“Shut up.”

He laughs. “I love it. It’s nice seeing you as the smaller one.”

“Oh, fuck you.”

He fake gasps. “He swore! Are you angy, my adorable little detective?” he asks, his voice sounding all cutesy. Goddamn menace.

“What do you think!?”

He is obviously smug that he’s now taller than me by two centimeters. His grin only widens as he pats my head. I try to smack his hand away, but he moves it away before I can. “You’re cute when you’re angry.”

“Shut the fuck up.”

“Even more so since I’m taller than you.”

“Infuriating as ever,” I snarl, my patience running thin. He’s being so cocky that I want to fucking strangle him. “I should wear heels just to be the taller one.”

“I don’t think you could.”

“Is that a challenge, Ren?”

“I dunno.” He shrugs, but I see right through the gesture. He knows exactly what he’s doing. “You tell me, detective. Is it a challenge?”

“I think it is, and I don’t intend to lose. I can and will wear heels. Watch me.”

“Even if you did, I could just wear heels as well,” he replies with a shit-eating grin to match his tone, “and run in them, too.”

I sigh in frustration, crossing my arms. I hate that I know he’s right. The Metaverse is enough indication of that. “You little shit.”

“You’re the little one, not me.”

“Shut up, Ren.”

“Make me,” he says as he gets right in my face, smirking as I instinctively lean back. “You could always kiss me into silence.”

There’s no hiding my flushed reaction to his suggestion. “You fucking wish, you idiot,” I snap, trying to ignore just how hot my face feels.

“Yeah, I do, my little tsundere pancake.”

Oh, of course, he had to mention the pancakes. Of fucking course. “I hate you so much.”

“I still don’t believe you. We both know that’s a lie.”

“Damn you and your two centimeters,” I say right before I recklessly kiss him on the lips.

I can see the ever so slight surprise on Ren’s face. He hides it well. His mirth at the unexpected kiss is clear as he asks, “Now, was that really so bad?”

“Yes.” No.

“Why’d you do it, then?”

“To get you to shut up.” I’ve been wanting to for a while now.

“Sure, sure,” he laughs. “Hey, would you want to get some lunch together? My treat.”

I’m glad he asked first. Truth be told, I wanted an excuse to spend more time with him. I’ve missed Ren more than I care to admit. “Sounds delightful. You can choose the location, but I’m paying.”

“Hey, no. I’m buying lunch, and you can’t stop me.”

“I’m paying, and that’s final.”

“Okay, how about we leave it up to chance? Whoever ends up with the bill pays. Deal?”

“Very well. You have a deal.” I’m still not letting him pay, though, even if it means resorting to more...underhanded methods.

He takes my hand in his, the small gesture of affection almost causing me to tear up. No one’s cared about me like Ren has. I don’t deserve it, but I doubt arguing that with him would get anywhere. It would be fruitless. All I can hope is that he’ll be happy around me.

And, for the first time in a year...I smile.

#akeppi writes #p5 #persona 5 #p5s #persona 5 scramble #persona 5 strikers #persona 5 spoilers #p5 spoilers #goro akechi #akechi #ren amamiya #akira kurusu #akeshu #shuake #ren is a menace #i also kind of worked the unused rehab thing from royal into this #i just really needed a reason why goro wasn't around in strikers/scramble #plus i just have a soft spot for that unused event

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cjwallflower · 3 years

Text

Marvel Gender Headcanons

because i doubt some of these people are cis

Peter:

i claim this man for the trans community

he realised he was trans at around present time (15-16 years old)

he knows his family and friends will accept him

he’s still N E R V O U S

but he still wants to be true to his identity

so he wears the trans flag colours!!

Ned obvs catches on, but doesn’t say anything

Tony’s the first one Peter comes out to, bc i’m soft and irondad owns my heart

Tony gets him a spider suit with a binder built in

Peter is absolutely the kind of trans guy who forgets to take off his binder (i’m not projecting what do you mean)

he comes out to his aunt May next, and she breaks out the scissors

the other eventually figure it out, and they accept him immediately

Peter: Hey Clint?

Clint: Yo

Peter: I’m trans

Clint: *takes a gulp of his soda* wig

Peter: ???

they love him though let’s be real

Natasha Punches A Transphobe

someone calls Peter a tr*nny

Natasha sends them on a one way trip to space :)

Peter absolutely decides to go on T

and he is a handsome!! boy!!

he eventually tells Ned and MJ, and they accept him too

Ned buys him a trans flag

NED BUYS HIM A TRANS FLAG

by the time they’re graduating high school, Peter passes as cis very well

Tony:

i’m claiming Tony as trans too

i promise there’s other gender identities here jdsfhkhsdfkjh

Tony came out in the 80s of all times

we know Howard

it didn’t go over well

Maria didn’t say much about it, but Howard was actively against it

Tony didn’t care at all

he literally snuck out and got a fake ID so he could start on T

Tony was almost 18 at that point, but he still used Howard’s money

just to piss him off

well Howard ended up dying like 3 years later

Maria survived because fuck you

but Tony never ended up getting any surgeries because he ended up getting busy with the company

he just didn’t have time, with all the recovery that goes into it

he’s still on T though!!

mans has tiddies and a beard, the boomers get confused

he tends to keep it more private though

Pepper knows, how could she not?

Pepper is the sole reason Tony survived to adulthood lbr

Peter found out accidentally

Tony got oil on a shirt while fixing one of his machines, and Peter walked in while he had it off

he saw the binder and boyyy was that a surprise

but it totally explained how Tony already knew so much about supporting Peter in his transition

the problem with being an ADHD workaholic??

hyperfocusing

when Tony hyperfocuses, he forgets to take off his binder

Jarvis: Sir, you need to take off your binder

Tony: Gimme like five more minutes, I need to finish this

Jarvis: Sir, it’s been 38 hours??

Tony: *already moving onto the next task* What’s your point?

his ribs are so fucked

Pepper and Peter remind him too

my boy is a mess

Thor:

this is solely because my nb loml claimed thor as nb and it’s super fucking valid

i love you babe 🥺

so Thor learned about different genders from Loki

and also from Peter tbh

but Thor LOVED the idea of being in between

it just made him really happy!!

he started using those labels a lot, even though he didn’t know much about what they meant

being on Earth more, he started to learn more about them

mostly because they replaced cops at pride (Peter’s idea)

so Thor decided to learn more

he knew he liked boys, that wasn’t uncommon on Asgard

gender expression was very open, but that blurred the lines a lot for him

when he got to non-binary, it clicked

“oh that sounds like me”

“THATS ME”

he was excited he’d figured it out

his immediate instinct?

he went to tell Loki

the only problem was Loki was asleep

“LOKI LOKI LOKI-”

“what do you wANT-”

“I’M NON-LIBRARY!!”

“WHAT THE FUCK DOES THAT MEAN-”

it took like ten minutes for Loki to figure out what he meant

Loki was tired give him a break

he just kinda pushed Thor’s face away and went back to sleep

they talked about it again in the morning

after Loki got some coffee he was more receptive

“I accept you, just please stop waking me up at 2 am”

Thor’s just trying his best

he doesn’t know how to be non-binary though

(there is no right way to be enby though)

so Loki tried a few example sentences using they/them pronouns

Thor LOVED it

so now Thor wanted to use they/them pronouns

Loki isn’t a brain cell by any means

but he sure feels like one sometimes

and he’s tired of it

ANYWAYS

Thor announced it to everyone they saw

some people heard it multiple times

“GUYS I’M NON-BINARY!! :D”

they were happy for their thude

and Thor wore an enby flag to their first pride!!

now the protector of the lesbians says non-library rights

Loki:

Loki basically always knew he was genderfluid

it just seemed really obvious to him?

he realised he wasn’t cis when he was 7

he transformed into a girl for fun

and she was like “oh i like this-”

so she experimented with that

and she fucking loved all of them

so she turned back into a boy and went to Frigga

that’s how he found out about the word genderfluid

so he basically just grew up shapeshifting as much as he wanted

when they eventually went to earth, Loki couldn’t shapeshift as much

after he was redeemed, he still needed to be recognisable so they wouldn’t think he was to pull a fast one on them

he was uncomfy

Loki stays in his room a lot

he just really doesn’t wanna deal with it

he still shapeshifts in private!

Thor ends up being the one to catch on

but he kinda knows that Loki won’t talk to him

so he sends in the spider child!

Loki and Peter have a pretty close bond

so on one of the nights they hang out, it’s a she/her day

and Loki just kinda snapped and went on a bit of a rant

and she ended up coming out to Peter

Loki totally didn’t end up crying what do you mean

she just needs a hug

obvs Peter was accepting

he gave her that hug don’t worry

this was all on a rooftop eating bad street food jhshkfhjfkhkd

he did ask if he could tell the others, and Loki reluctantly agreed

yeah, the others felt kinda bad

so they ended up compromising!!

Loki could shapeshift, but not into other people

and she could wear whatever she wanted

they also gave her bracelets so she could express her pronouns

its a long road

and it takes a long time to build trust

but Loki really does appreciate Thor and Peter’s efforts

Bucky:

trans enby rights. send tweet

let’s jump back to 1930s

Bucky was transitioning before the war

he had the surgeries and was on T

Steve was the only one who really knew

it was right when HRT was starting to become a thing

he was one of the first people to try it

and it worked pretty well!

Bucky passed easily after ~2 years on T

but then he died

RIP Bucky :(

when he comes back as a Hydra agent, they use T supplements to make his body stronger

“Jokes on you, I like that shit”

yeah no the others end up rescuing him from there

but Bucky still takes T

everyone is a bit worried about it

they think he’s still under Hydra’s control

Steve has to explain it (with Bucky’s permission)

but Bucky really starts feeling a disconnect with being a male

it’s mostly due to the trauma from Hydra

he knows he’s not a girl anymore

but he hates the idea of being a boy now

so he has no idea what he is

he ends up drawing the parallel between himself and Thor

but Bucky still sees some masculinity in Thor, which confuses him a LOT

Bucky’s always confused lbr

so he ends up finding the term Agender

and he understands it!! and likes it!!

he’s too nervous to tell the others, so he writes sentences using they/them pronouns

“Their name is Bucky Barnes”

“Bucky is tired, they need a nap”

“Bucky’s best friend is Steve. They’ve known Steve since the beginning”

Bucky is WAY happier with they/them pronouns

the problem is they don’t know how to communicate that

even to Steve, they’re just nervous

Steve ends up finding the paper, which now has over 100 sentences

so the next time they’re alone, Steve brings it up, and after a little bit of avoiding answering, Bucky tells him about it

Steve is super accepting 🥺

“Do you want me to tell the others for you?”

“Yes please, I have no idea what I’m doing-”

“I don’t think any of us do”

so Steve lets the others know, and they start using they/them pronouns

Bucky’s IMMEDIATELY so much happier

i just think they’re neat-

MJ:

MJ isn’t cis, fuck you

MJ is a demigirl

and no one even figured it out for the longest time

she kinda groups herself on the more non-binary side

Peter finds out because someone calls her by they/them pronouns

“MJ?? Are you?? Non-binary??”

“Nope”

“Are you still a girl??”

“Nope”

after like 20 mins Peter figures it out

and boy is he confused

“Why didn’t you just say it?”

“I couldn’t. Gotta keep ‘em on their toes”

“Who??”

“:)”

the M in MJ stands for mystery

anyways!!

she switches from lesbian to the term Trixic (NBLW)

MJ goes to pride with Peter and Ned that year

MJ gets a girlfriend there!!

she comes out to her girlfriend upfront. she doesn’t feel like waiting

yeah she gets intense

she gets it from her moms

who can blame her

MJ sometimes wears a binder

she wore one on the first day of school, because Peter was nervous about being out (he’d come out over the summer)

MJ will punch transphobes and homophobes

even just for fun tbh

but she won’t do it immediately

she heard someone make a comment about Ned and his boyfriend and waited a few days

and then came out of nowhere

B O N K

the douchebag kinda knew why though

in conclusion, MJ is elite

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filthyjanuary · 3 years

Note

I've never seen an episode of supernatural all I see is what's on your blog and each and every day I become more confused about the writing of the show and why people enjoy it :l

okay well first off i am SO sorry you have to see me like this jknbuvgyuhjn i cannot believe im spnblogging in 2020 like im 15 again but things happen i guess.

second of all, the thing to know about supernatural is.... i think, for general audiences, it is an average-to-good show. it's not Bad. It's not Beloved and/or Acclaimed. objectively, i think is also probably the most balanced view of the show and is also probably what the cw and/or people who worked on the show see it as. it lasted 15 years because it consistently pulled in reliable numbers for the cw and grabbed a lot of demographics. like i know the tumblr bubble skews perceptions but, people of all ages, genders, sexualities watched and enjoyed supernatural, yes even to the very end. most people are also not looking at supernatural with the hyperfocused lens that tumblr is and that’s like... okay. those fans aren’t any less relevant or important. if only tumblr was watching supernatural, i promise it would’ve been cancelled like at least 7 years ago.

the spn *fandom* is interesting because like one, no one is watching the same fucking show. like we all watched the same episodes but like this fandom cant even agree on like...basic facets of canon, let alone digging into complex meta. people’s views of characters actions and motivations skew wildly. things one side of the fandom considers nearly canon are like essentially viewed as ooc on other sides of the fandom. you love and hate all the characters and everyone is always about to start swinging on everyone else. you have to simultaneously juggle the ideas that the writers — and for the record this show has had four showrunners and like a billion individual writers who all see and interpret it slightly differently — are brilliant and the writers legitimately are both stupid and bad at their jobs. you have to turn your brain off in terms of continuity because they retcon their own lore every 15 seconds. this isn’t even getting into the ship wars, the boundary crossing, the weird invasiveness , etc., etc., etc. supernatural’s writing is sometimes incredible, sometimes terrible, but generally pretty average, but it had a charm (ESPECIALLY IN SEASONS 1-3) that reeled you in, even if you hated the genre.

when a show is on this long, i think the fans (rightly so) will look back and dig in and get nitpicky on things they wish were covered with more care. things that the show obviously did not decide to write with the intention of addressing/grappling with later on. case in point: dean’s drinking habits. with the exception of like... season 7 where they DO address it, dean drinks a lot as a feature of his character with little to no consequence. he doesn’t get drunk. he’s always driving. it might as well be water. the writers don’t intend for that to be more than just a facet of what makes him a rough and tough action hero even though logically, he should be drunk all the time. even w/ interviews w/ the cast/crew, it’s clear the writers don’t think the fans will care and/or notice a lot of things. they do, because well, they’re invested. the fandom extrapolates because that’s what fandom does, but i really don’t think the writers connect those dots because dean’s drinking /isn’t/ a problem until they need it to be. because spn has gone on so long, it has more instances of things like this than other shows, and our cultural contexts have also evolved a lot along the way from 2005 to 2020. so again, there’s a lot to work with. i don’t really think that’s so much a reflection of the quality of the show than it is a reflection of how long it’s been on and the way society has changed since then. dean not knowing what myspace is is funny for two completely different reasons in 2005 and in 2020, for example.

my own personal opinion is, there’s a lot to enjoy about supernatural. seasons 1-5 are legitimately good tv. for all their flaws, they have a very clear aesthetic and tell a story that is well-structured and relatively coherent in terms of themes and continuity. they set up complex characters and relationships and everyone’s motivations make sense and that arc wraps on a tragic but ultimately narratively consistent and thus fulfilling point. of course, there’s stuff i personally like and dislike but separating my emotions from it, it’s very good. i think if anything, i would recommend anyone watch those five seasons and then decide whether they want to continue or not. if you don’t, you’ll end on a note that feels complete. it’s what i’m doing w/ my friend elaine, currently, actually. if she decides she wants to continue after 5, we’ll do that, but for now we’re just vibing in season 1. after that point, i think if you decide you care enough about the characters to push through wildly inconsistent writing, there’s stuff to enjoy in seasons 6-15, but the quality and particularly the consistency dips and this is also where the retconning really starts to...intensify. it’s also where the mythos of supernatural grows bigger than the show itself, which i think was always supernatural’s downfall. the crew started caring more about the whims of the fandom and frankly the fandom became more of the story than the show, and that’s how you get people piecing together what supernatural is based on out of context gifsets that skew perceptions wildly and get Supernatural Fandom™ which... frankly, in my opinion, changed fandom culture as a whole for the worse, like yes it’s a huge, powerful and often memeable behemoth but also... the way it changed creator-fan interactions is something we’re going to be unpacking for a long time. i think had the writers tuned out fandom wars and internet yelling and strived to tell a story that made sense and was well constructed to /them/, we wouldn’t be here and seasons 6-15 could’ve found a way to be as beloved as the first third of the show. i’m personally of the opinion that being a fan of something, for better or for worse, does not entitle you to part of it’s creative process. it doesn’t become a collaboration, and the door is always there if you get to the point where you want to leave. i think supernatural getting too caught up in its own fandom and balancing all these conflicting interests is ultimately what made the last 10 seasons, and particularly the back third of the show oftentimes flounder. the finale chaos, in my opinion, happened because they tried to please everyone by keeping too many things vague so people would have room to play in their own sandboxes and round out the story the way they wanted to see it and thus ultimately, a lot of things were left in the air and so for many people, the closure they were hoping for just wasn’t there.

i dont know how this became a long and scattered collection of thoughts but tldr, people enjoy supernatural because at the end of the day, it’s an enjoyable show and i think the more you stew in a fandom bubble, there’s more to get worked up about. which is fine. i like that fandom engages in complex conversations that the show won’t grapple with, but that’s not for everyone and i don’t think the fact that we have these conversations is necessarily an indictment of the show’s overall quality.

#asks #spn #long post #**#Anonymous #for the record #i liked the finale and i watched the show for 10 years of my life on and off because sam and dean winchester are two of the most interestin #interesting* characters and also have the most interesting dynamic i've ever see #seen*

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brightlotusmoon · 4 years

Text

There are some really good comments on this post.

"Do they not realise that deflecting with humor is a typical ADHD trait? 😂😂"

...

"Do they not know self-stereotyping is a popular form of group bonding right now within various (often marginalized) communities? Cuz it is."

...

"Pitting ADHD people against each other in a roast is so intense to watch because it's more like a battle of "My brain is faster than yours and I can fuckin prove it!"

...

"Joking about things is how we break stigmas. Mental health, sexuality, sexism, race. There is also a big difference between laughing at ourselves and the crazy situations we both find and put ourselves in, and actually making fun OF a person because of what they are or what conditions they may suffer from.

For instance I enjoy every meme I've seen on this page, but I dont like a mate literally laughing at me because I excitedly share a thing with them, that I have told them before... 😐

Or 'dude! Just set an alarm 🤣' thats laughing at me, and not the conditions.

One brings us together by admiting and laughing at the flaws. One makes the person feel like they're the the flaw."

...

"Don't think treating any topic with the gravest of taboo and lack of humour is a good thing.

Its not.

Let us, especially us who deal with both the issues themselves, as well as the meaningless pity that some people push onto us when they hear we have it a bit different.

"It must be so hard for you..."

Sure I have those days when nothing goes right.

Tourette makes me pour the entire mug off coffee on myself,

I hyperfocused on something so I missed the off-ramp at the highway,

I got exited about a subject and got schooled for ot being able to talk slowly and fully understandable,

I have days when the depression shuts everything down, and days where the anxiety takes over everything.

Most days are in between.

Those days all you hear is; "You don't have that, you seem way too silent/able/focused/happy or not anxious.."

You do know that masking isn't something just you NTs do?

I don't mask, but I see right through yours.

If I don't display the strongest symptoms like the one you read and see on TV, that means I can't possibly have mental issues.

Because, that means that there isn't that big of a difference between us...

It means, that in a way, my fluctuations are more natural, albeit escalated, than your masking and holding yourself back, because it would be weird or simply wrong to not hold back.

My Tourette gives me the opportunity to relax and say whatever I'm not supposed to say, in that scenario.

"You want to tell your boss to shut the fuck up?"

I do that, just need to not use so much on holding everything back.

My Autism gives me the opportunity to not add emotions into personal questions, but ask them like any other, without getting hurt in any way by the answer.

ADHD; D&D, need I say more

Depression; The ones I've met who battles depression every day are the most considerate people I know.

They are aware of how shit life is.

How hard it is to survive, every single day.

I've been suicidal in the past, I'm not there anymore; but don't you dare tell me I shouldn't tell people about it; because it may worry them, or any other excuse.

I am honest about this, I joke about it; to disarm the stigma and to cope.

My anxiety is making the first three hell of a lot stronger.

But again, its not something I want any sympathy for having; I want action.

I am a stand up comedian, I joke about all of these on stage. Not to be an asshole about it, but so it's livable. I'm not treating them like nightmares, like they are the worst thing that has come my way;

Because that would be wrong.

I laugh of all the weird situations that occurs. And I want others to laugh with me, to not treat them as a reason to pour sympathy down the drain.

I have five mental issues, but honestly; I am glad I have them.

If given the choice to get rid of them for a month came my way, I would say no.

Its not who I am.

If you removed any of the first three, I wouldn't be here.

I am glad I have them, if I didn't life would be extremely boring.

On some of the meds I had, they all went away for three hours a day.

No TAADA for three hours.

I now get why you "normal", boring people drink."

#being neurodivergent #being disabled means having a very dark sense of humor #being autistic #being adhd #being a cryptid #autism and adhd are cousins #adhd is exempt from allistic fuckery #adhd is autism's excitable twin #autism is not hot sauce #autism is not my handbag #autism is autism #autism is my identity #identity first language #i love my identity labels #disabled humor #autistic humor #gallows humor #autism and hyperbole

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thesmollestsnek · 4 years

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a tale of insomnia

Flailing, I try in vain to find a comfortable position. Everything is hot, hot, too hot and I can't hold still for more than a moment. And invisible monster looms over me, refuses to grant my restless mind and body even a moment of rest. I cannot escape from its merciless gaze, left to drown in my sheets and my tears of pure frustration. Long ago I gave up on a good night's rest. More recently, I gave up on an okay amount of rest. And now? Now I have given up on any rest. I can only pray that I don't collapse onstage when lady sleep comes to collect my dues. Only hope that at least I make it through my two dances before shutting down. I know it's not healthy, but I find myself unable to rest out of anything but sheer exhaustion, running on fumes and stubbornness and denial as I tell myself that just five more minutes, then I can rest. Thousands of minutes later, I finally reach my bed, only to find that blessed reward has withered and died before my very eyes, just beneath my notice. And there I stay. Awake.

It seems ironic, an insomniac who sleeps every time except for night. It's not for lack of trying. Every night I toss and turn and pray that this time I'll fall unconscious early enough to make it through the day. I never do. I never can. These days, it feels like I never will. Something is broken, in my brain. A lot of things are broken. All of them keep me up at night. None of them have cures. An invisible monster lurks over me. Silent. Watching. It does nothing, says nothing. It doesn’t need to. Its mere existence prevents my body from obeying my mind’s desperate pleas. My face is damp, as my mind asserts its dominance over the piece of my body it can control. The coolness feels nice against my skin, at first. My face is wet. My pillow is wet. My hands are sticky with half-dried tears or maybe eyelash glue. Maybe both. Maybe it doesn't matter. Maybe im just hyperfocusing on the little things in an attempt to forget about the big ones. Maybe this is only making it harder to sleep, but maybe I don’t care. Maybe I’ve given up. Maybe I’ll never sleep again. Maybe... maybe. Maybe I’m a lost cause. Sure feels like it, on nights like these. My self esteem is the only part of me not awake. Somehow, the thought that some part of me is asleep doesn’t make me feel any better. It is the problem, not the solution. If there even is one.

My eyes hurt. My chest hurts. Everything hurts. I don’t wanna be awake anymore. I don’t have a choice.

I start to debate taking a second insomnia pill. I know this is a terrible idea, I’m onstage in four hours and it’s been known to lower blood pressure. Part of me doesn’t care. A lot of me doesn’t care. I know it’s bad that I’d rather be in the hospital than in this goddamn bed for even a second more, but still. The thought persists. On a scale of one to ten, how bad of an idea is it...? I already know the answer. I pretend not to. Perhaps if is squeeze my eyes tight and hope with all my heart, it will change. I open my eyes. Everything is the same. Perhaps in another world, I have already taken the second pill. Perhaps in that world I am sleeping soundly. Perhaps I collapse onstage in that world. Perhaps not. I’ll never know. And perhaps that’s for the best, but I still can’t help but wonder... what if? What if I truly didn’t care? What if I toon that pill? I won’t, but the option is there. The urge is there. Three feet away, are a bag of pills. What if I took the wrong one? What if I took the right one? It doesn’t matter, I don’t take either. But neither do I stop myself from wondering.

It is morning. My chest aches in sharp contrast to the numbness of my body. I struggle to do, think, feel anything through a haze of fog that covers my mind. My eyes were bloodshot when I opened them to put in contacts. They will only get worse as the day progresses, but I can’t find it in me to care. I had bags the color of bruises before concealer. The makeup does nothing to hide the shapes of the bags beneath my eyes. And yet, the show must go on. I force myself to eat, knowing that I’ll need all the strength I can get to make it through today. Somehow, I end up in a car. Somehow, I end up in the dressing room. I eat candies like my life depends on it, and maybe it does. Sure feels like it does. The sugar gives me strength to keep my eyes open, but does nothing for the pain of doing so. I don’t care. Everything is dragging so slow, but the next thing I know, I’m backstage. Onstage. And then, somehow, I’m back off again. I’d be concerned about the gap in between, but honestly? This is nothing new. Even on the rare occasion that I do sleep the night before a performance, I always black out onstage. Occasionally, I’ll come back to myself while I’m still performing, startled by the suden passage of time I did not perceive. It never goes well, when that happens. This time, it does not.

There is not time for me to think, between dances, let alone fall asleep. My world is a blur of tight costumes and falling straps and replacing makeup and fixing hair. At any given point there are at least three people hovering around me, it feels like. My mother, my cousin, my teachers, my classmates. Some of the others are changing too, but mine is the fastest. Mine will be over the soonest. Within minutes, I am a completely different person. I eat more candy for fortitude, and run backstage. And finally. Have time. To think. Thinking is bad. Thinking makes it hard to breathe and makes me fear for the safety of my makeup. Thinking leaves no room for tiredness, not now and probably not ever. I have so much adrenaline coursing through me there is no way I could ever fall asleep. I cannot feel my limbs, and do not know if it is the exhaustion or fear or both. I don’t really care, either. I will make it work onstage. I always do. Others join me, and we stay together, us three, talking quietly and trying to keep our hearts in our chests as we wait to hear our names announced over microphone. I go first, and am doing well, until I’m not. The only thing I know, at the end, was that I made almost the entire dance up on the spot. I wait for the others, and finally, we leave.

They say I did well. They say they couldn’t even tell that I was improvising. Julie asked what happened to her choreography, and I joke back that I decided I could do better. My grandmother tried to console me, but I do not need consoling. I messed up, but I kept going and I’m high off adrenaline and I have wings and am flying that’s all that matters right now. And then, we’re back in the dressing room. And then, I fall back to earth. I land in a patch of sun on the table, sat on the tiny plastic seat with my had in my arms, finally getting the sleep I so desperately need. Hours later, I wake up, still exhausted, but there. And then we are in a car, and the day is over, and all I want to do is sleep. One can only hope.

#writing #my writing #original work #insomia #vent piece #realistic fiction #dancer

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marnaeileen · 4 years

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Yo can I...complain about fire emblem for a sec? (I know, shocker)

so obviously i’m really bad about hyperfocusing on my interests, and fire emblem three houses scratched an itch that I have not had an outlet for in a really long time. so I've gotten in way too deep with my absorption/creation of fan content, and that’s self admitted

but what I will never, as long as I fuckin’ live understand is how intsys could knock it so FAR outta the park with awakening and then follow it up with gross shit you feel weird for liking. like...imo, the romance and support aspect of awakening INVIGORATED and REBRANDED the franchise.

and speaking as an adult woman who has always adored games with romance content, I myself was even willing to give a grid rpg strategy game (a genre I am not generally a fan of) a go because there were Husbands to love, you know?

so I feel like intsys were like ‘wow this awakening shit is like lightening in a bottle. people like the romance and child-system, so let’s do that’ but they never ever stopped to consider how fucking GROSS their options were.

like in fates, the only characters that mattered in the story and got screentime were your siblings, as opposed to the robin/chrom dynamic that was present all throughout awakening. even a character like virion, who was a random bow unit, got his moment to shine in the main story when it was revealed he fled his dukedom and asked chrom for help

but fates? nah. just your siblings. you don’t get to establish a story-relevant romantic relationship in fates. if you wanna marry, you gotta pick a random ass unit (my exclusions here are the butlers and maids, which is ANOTHER LEVEL OF GROSS!)

and then in three houses you have the teacher-student dynamic. and while yeah they scratch their heads and go ‘uhhhhhhhhh five years passed they’re adults now’ its like come on guys, they still call me professor.

and I guess it wouldn’t bother me if they didn’t force those roles and situations on the PLAYER CHARACTER. look im in love with Lorenz/byleth and ship it till I die, but that doesn’t mean that I don’t think about Lorenz with his bowl cut and think ‘wow. he really was just a kid and I graded his papers’

its fucked up! like why why why why why why why would you lean into a romance sim type gameplay if your choices are your brothers, sisters, cousins, and students???????????????????????/ or your MAID???

idk I needed to vent thank you for coming to my long ass ted talk

im sorry i’ll feel remorse for posting this in .5 seconds and delete haha peace

#yikes I mean just yikes on this whole sitch

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calamarispiderart · 3 years

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finding out fic writers i rlly love and admire have bookmarked my fics that i still need to update and losing my shit at five am BSBSHBSSG

#calamarispeaks #SAINTSAINT HIIII I LOVE UR CONTENT SO MUCH #ok theres a few ppl i saw and realised have written fic i LOVE SO MUCH like aughghbgh #especially wild for saintsaint tho bc i read their uuhh. ah/it fic the rlly long one? like a yr ago when i was rlly into that i read their #fic and i LOVED IT SO MUCH #its SO GOOD GUYS #and then i stopped hyperfocusing on that hdbdgdbj but anyway tho HI HELLO????? IM. BGDBDHDBDDVSG #its five am so im rambling im gonna go to sleep now goodnight i hope u all have a good week!!!!

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rowanlagrange-blog · 4 years

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Tulpa

Do you ever get hooked on an idea? So wrapped up in something you heard that you can’t push it out of your head, like a catchy pop song you hear on the radio for just a moment. This kind of hyperfocusing can lead you to some weird places. Like binge watching youtube videos about how clams reproduce or reading articles about how whales sleep without drowning. Maybe it’s just me, insomnia can make you do weird things, but I seem to get caught up in these tangents quite often. My most recent obsession, why almost every kid has an imaginary friend as a child. It’s such a weird shared instinct we all have to create our own companions. A documentary about imaginary friends association with child development led me to an article about adults with imaginary friends which led me to a forum discussion about tulpa. From my intense reading, of the tulpa wiki page, it seems like tulpa are an imaginary friend with a catch, you can actually “will them into existence”. This isn’t some Jedi mind trick either any guy on the street can do it.

I searched around online a little longer, read something called the book of the dead, then got tired. So I laid down in bed and stared across the room. Opposite of my bed is a massive window that overlooks a 30 foot drop and some lovely scenery. In the morning I like to stand there and watch the ripples on my neighbors pond. I even put an end table next to the window for my morning newspapers and coffee cups to pile up on. As I lay there unable to sleep an image crept into my head. It was from a scary story I read once, a dog on its hind legs wearing a black robe and a skull as a mask. It always made me smile, I mean come on it looks like a reject Pokémon. I grew so bored that I made him do a little dance in front of the window. Lo and behold, the miracle drug I needed all along. No melatonin, no counting sheep, no therapy just this dog thing dancing in my head. I passed out and slept like a baby. This would continue for the next four months. Every night I would lay in my bed and watch my tulpa dance. It was pretty nice having something there with me at night. My therapist once told me loneliness could be the cause of my insomnia. I ignored her at the time but now it seems like she might have been right. I even gave him a name, Spot. I know not very original but it was my labradoodles name when I was a kid.

Flash forward to about five nights ago. I get home, jump into bed, and start watching Spot dance. He twirled and swayed around in front of my window. His black fur danced in the air as he frolicked about. I watched him for maybe ten minutes before I began to drift off. The warm comfort of my memory foam mattress pulled me in. The room grew black as my eyelids fluttered shut, then I heard it. “Did my dance please you, father?” My blood curdled and I shot up in bed. Spot was standing at my feet gazing at me. I tried to force him to stop but I couldn’t. “You wish to see more” he asked. The color drained from my face. I dove under the covers and began reciting a prayer my mother used to say with me at night. When I came out he was gone, I didn’t sleep well that night.

I laid in bed, not moving a muscle, until the sun was well in the sky. I went and got my newspaper and coffee in the morning. The headline that day was something about a terrorist attack in Europe. Not really the kind of thing I look for in the news. I watched my reflection in the window that morning. I stood in the same spot Spot had last night. Except surely he didn’t, Spot wasn’t real. I just hallucinated him speaking like that, or maybe it was sleep paralysis, or a vivid dream but definitely not real. I threw the newspaper down on the end table and readied myself for work.

That night I decided not to watch Spot dance. I guess I thought a night or two off would help calm my nerves. I laid in bed wrestling with myself trying to find sleep. Even after months of restful nights insomnia was still a bitch. Around 2 in the morning he spoke again. “It’s continued on the next page” Spot bellowed. My eyes burst open but I dare not move. I watched him out of the corner of my eye. He was taller now, when I first imagined him he was three foot flat but now he had to be at least seven. “The story, it is continued on the next page, Father” he echoed. His voice, it hadn’t been like that last night, it was more childlike, now it was powerful. “Father, I cannot turn the page myself, please do it for me” he asked. I closed my eyes tight and began reciting the prayer again. The more I focused on those words the less present he seemed. After a half hour of praying the dog away, he was completely gone.

Another restless night gave way to another agonizing day. I leaned against my window that morning. No newspaper just coffee with an energy drink mixed in. I was fixated on my stack of newspapers. They sat a foot tall on top of the end table. They were still undisturbed from yesterday when I threw the newest paper on top. When I got home from work that night I went immediately to bed. I laid there watching the sun go down through my window. It was serene, truly worth every penny I didn’t have to spend on this overpriced house. As I fell away into peace he shattered my tranquility once more. “Why do you hate me Father?” Spot sighed. I slowly rose up, I had never imagined Spot while the sun was still up. Now in its light I could see his mask was no longer the bleach white plastic looking thing I had given him. It has been replaced with a cracked yellowing bulls skull. His silky fur that twirled with him when he danced was matted and growing mold. He had sprung gnarly brown fangs from his twisted jaws. “You brought me into this world just to ignore me is that it” he wondered. When Spot spoke his jaw flapped from its hiding place under the skull like a bird's wings. He put a finger on top of the newspaper he was looking at. It began to move with his hand but then suddenly his hand just fell through the stack. That wasn’t right though Spot didn’t have hands or fingers, I gave him paws. I stared at him for hours reciting the prayer in my head, but nothing ever happened. I guess at some point I finally did pass out. I awoke the next evening at dusk. I clambered out of bed and landed on the shaggy floor. Looking down at my feet I could see my hardwood floors had been covered in black dog hair. I shuffled out to get a cup of coffee but a howling in my room drew right back. “Why do you hate me Father?” Spot whimpered. I was frozen in my doorway. Spot picked up the top newspaper, he got a few inches off the stack before it fell through his hand. “I wish to see the next page Father” Spot sobbed. My breaths were short and sharp. My vision began to strain and turn white. “Why did you create me if you’re just going to ignore me?” Spot howled. Right then and there I made the worst mistake of my life. “I don’t know,” I replied. Spots shining yellow eyes darted towards me. He swiped the newspaper from the top of the stack once more. This time he turned to the second page. “Hate is the cocaine of emotions, so addictive” Spot began. ”And like cocaine it destroys whatever it touches” Spot cackled. “I may be born of hate but I won’t let that be all I am, I will cut it out” Spot whispered. Spot then jumped out the window and ran off into the night. I don’t know what Spot meant by what he said but I do know that I created a monster bent on cutting out hate. I can hear him scratching at the walls below my window. I think he’s come back to cut me out, whatever that entails.

#horror #story #short story #creepy #writing

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livinginfictions · 4 years

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Stop it.

Stop. Stop it. Fucking knock it off.

Stop glorifying and romanticizing ADHD. Stop right the fuck now.

God, I remember we used to have to have a ton of conversations on tumblr about not romanticizing Depression, because everyone was like ‘sadness is happy for deep people’ ‘depressed people are more creative’ ‘depressed people are more in touch with their emotions’ ‘depressed people appreciate the good things more’

Which, first of all, no the fucking don’t, to any of that. I have adhd so no one should be surprised that i’m derailing my own post for a minute.

Sadness is not happy for deep people, i don’t know where people heard that but it’s bullshit. Sadness is sadness, and it’s awful. Depressed people aren’t more creative, creative people tend to be more depressed because of the stress their life puts on them. Often this is because ‘creative’ people tend to go into jobs in the arts, and that provides like zero job security, ergo, lots of creative people are fucking poor. And being poor can send someone into a depression. Depressed people are not more in touch with their emotions, all of their emotions are getting sucked out of them until all that’s left is an empty void and the only thing your body knows how to do anymore is cry. It’s horrific. Depressed people literally cannot appreciate good things more. That’s the whole fucking point of depression. A beautiful day means nothing when you’re depressed. Sweet treats and smiles on your friend’s faces area all dulled down with sandpaper until you are desperately grabbing at them and your hands just keep slipping off and you can’t understand how it feels for that situation to be good anymore.

Now it’s like everyone’s doing the same thing to ADHD. And they need to fucking stop.

Adhd is NOT a superpower. ADHD is NOT a gift. ADHD is NOT making me more creative.

Do you have any idea what this learning disorder has cost me? Any idea how much more creative and productive and happy could be if I weren’t ADHD?

Do you know how many kids with ADHD drop out of college? How much more likely I am to have gotten my Depression because I’m ADHD? My anxiety?

Hyperfocus is NOT a superpower. Yes, sometimes it helps me get things done, but it also means that i cannot make myself stop doing things when I want to. I will watch youtube videos for hours after I want to stop because...because. Who the fuck knows. All I know is that i’m still scrolling and it’s two in the morning and I want to cry because I want to go to bed, but i’m still scrolling and most of my brain is still interested, so I guess I’m still gonna do this.

Hyperfocus is: I forgot to eat today and now I might actually puke because i’m so nauseous. I forgot to feed my cat and she’s been jumping on the table for two hours to get my attention, but I keep responding on reflex without realizing what’s going on. I set four alarms to get me out of hyperfocus, and i don’t even remember turning them all off. I forgot to go to the bathroom and now that I finally realized I need to go, someone else is in it and i literally might piss my pants from having to wait. Hyperfocus is people getting mad at me for not listening because they stood in front of me and talked to me and to get them to stop bugging me to listen to them I told them I was, all while not listening because I’m still hyperfocused. Hyperfocus is getting so excited about talking that I completely ignore what the people around me are dealing with and follow them from room to room ranting about whatever’s on my mind at the moment and now they’re late for class because they didn’t want to tell me to stop talking because my Rejection Sensitivity Dysphoria leaves me in tears at the slightest unhappy comment and no matter how many times I promise them that it’s not their fault, no one wants to make their friend cry. I went to bed three hours ago, but because I didn’t write down what I was thinking about instead of going to bed, I haven’t been able to sleep and I’ve just been laying here with my white noise machine and doing my breathing exercises and somehow my head is still writing out that fanfiction idea and now it’s five am and i have to get up and write this or I’m never going to sleep. But once i sit down I have no concept of the movement of time and by the time I’m done the sun has been up for an hour and I have class in thirty minutes. Also, now that my hyperfocus is over, I”m never going to return to this fanfiction idea. Also, my perfectionism caused by the ADHD prevents me from even posting it in its half written state.

Hyperfocus is just as hellish as not being able to focus.

So much romanticism of ADHD comes from within the ADHD community, and I’m telling you I understand why you do it. I STILL want you to fucking stop.

There is a vast difference between not hating yourself for having ADHD, and trying so hard to make other people not hate you for having ADHD that you spread misinformation that neurotypical people use against us.

I’m 21 years old and have never been treated for my ADHD. I was diagnosed at the age of four, but since I developed severe depression and anxiety at the age of twelve, no doctor will treat my ADHD because they insist that my Depression and Anxiety must be treated first, or they promise me that the antidepressants they give me will help with all of it and it never does. I need specific ADHD medication, but in order to get that I have to get re-diagnosed because I was never treated and so it’s not actually in my records anymore.

The cause of this six month long hell since realizing that I was failing my classes in large part due to not being able to focus enough to get my homework done, which exacerbated my other disorders?

My mother believed that my ADHD was a gift. That it made me smarter. That it was a ‘superpower’. That it got me good grades. Why would she ever treat that? Why would she ever medicate a child who was getting perfect grades? Who had to be given extra homework in class because she finished her so quickly?

ADHD was so heavily romanticized, and the need for treatment so demonized, that I nearly dropped out of college. Do you know how fucked up it is to be able to say that I can usually handle my Major Depressive Disorder, that I can usually cope with my Generalized Anxiety Disorder, but that I can’t deal with a learning disability I was diagnosed with at the age of 4?

I spend hours every day looking up coping mechanisms for ADHD and cry at least once a day because everything tells me that medication helps, and I have no idea how much longer I have to wait to get it. I see all these stories about kids who don’t want to take their meds, and I struggle so hard between empathizing with their fear, and being so painfully jealous that they have medication to take.

So yes, teach people that if you have ADHD you can work with your strengths to be successful in life and to deal with the symptoms of the disability. DO NOT teach people that ADHD is a Strength. STOP IT. STOP. You are HURTING PEOPLE.

#ADHD #depression #anxiety #rant #case in point: it's two thirty and I couldn't stop watching adhd videos #and it made me so angry i just spent ten minutes writing this instead of going the fuck to bed #god i miss my husband

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sage-nebula · 5 years

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How long have you known you have ADD and what clued you in that you have it?

MMM, this is kind of a tough question.

First, as a disclaimer: This is one of two disorders I’m 99% sure I have but haven’t been officially diagnosed with, the other being delayed sleep phase disorder. I’ve been officially diagnosed with C-PTSD, chronic severe depression, an anxiety disorder, and a learning disability in math, but I have not been officially diagnosed with attention deficit disorder or delayed sleep phase disorder (the former of which because I’ve never brought it up with a doctor, and the latter of which because I’ve yet to find a doctor who believes me). That said, though, I was very sure that I had C-PTSD, chronic severe depression, an anxiety disorder, and a learning disability in math before I was ever diagnosed with any of those, so while I’m not officially diagnosed with ADD or DSPD at this point in time, the fact that I hit pretty much every symptom checkbox for both makes me feel just as sure about those two as I do all the rest. (And honestly, I would have a diagnosis for DSPD if only anyone would BELIEVE ME, but that’s neither here nor there.)

Anyway, to answer your question . . .

I honestly first started suspecting it back when I was in high school. There were commercials on TV for medication to help with “adult ADD,” and the symptoms described in those commercials (difficulty focusing, difficulty keeping track of time, procrastinating, etc) all sounded like me. Of course I wasn’t an adult at the time, but I also wasn’t a young child, like the typical person you see diagnosed with ADHD. Furthermore, the symptoms sounded very different from what I’d always been led to believe ADHD was (hyperactive, bouncing off the walls, et cetera), so I thought that I might have “adult ADD,” as was described in the commercials. That said, I never brought it up with my parents because they didn’t even believe me when I said was burnt out junior year and that was why I failed math, and instead just decided that I was lazy and unwilling to try, so. I figured there was no point in bringing it up with them.

I kind of forgot about it in the years that followed until, funnily enough, I saw some posts on tumblr where people talked about some less commonly known symptoms that fit me perfectly. I think the one that stood out to me the most (though I can’t find it now) was a post about being unable to sit in a chair properly. I’m going to level with you: I cannot sit in a chair with both feet on the floor for more than two or three minutes to save my life. It is so uncomfortable. Ever since I was a kid I always pulled my feet up onto my chair, and I never sit in one position for too long. Sometimes I sit cross-legged, other times it’s with both feet on the chair and my knees drawn up, sometimes it’s one knee up and the other cross-legged, and so on and so forth. I shift position and squirm around constantly, not because I’m hyper, but because I just can’t sit in one position for too long without feeling massively uncomfortable. There was a post here on tumblr about how that inability to sit still and properly in chairs is a lesser known symptom of ADD in women, and that made me start wondering if perhaps my high school curiosity about whether I could have ADD or not had some merit to it after all. (Of course, no online symptom sites list “can’t sit in chairs properly” as a symptom, but you know. These things happen.)

So I started to do more research online, going to different websites to see what I could find. And what I found is that Inattentive-Type ADD fits me perfectly. As a brief rundown:

Missing details and becoming distracted easily: I can be detail oriented if it’s something I’m very interested in (or something I’m trying very hard to focus on), but otherwise I do have a tendency to blaze through and skim things, taking shortcuts because I assume I already know the thing even if I actually don’t. As for distractions? Oh boy. At my old job in particular I had to have headphones and music on if I was to focus on work orders / e-mails because otherwise the noise around me was so much of a distraction I couldn’t focus on any one thing. But even then, it could not be any music with lyrics, because the lyrics would distract me and send me into daydreams before I realized what was happening! I also tend to get distracted in the sense that I can be doing one task and get distracted by another task, or can have my thoughts jump around a lot as I leap from tangent to tangent . . . that’s less noticeable in writing, but that’s part of why I prefer to communicate in writing. It’s easier to keep my thoughts organized if I have time to sort them out first.

Trouble focusing on the task at hand: Talked about this above, but yeah, unless it’s something super interesting to me, keeping my focus on one thing can feel like an insurmountable task. Like I said before, at my previous job the only way I could knock out a bunch of work orders or support e-mails at once was if I had headphones on. Otherwise? My attention would flit from conversation to conversation while I mindlessly played with my phone or went from tab to tab (without really looking at anything) on my laptop, because my attention just could not hold because it was pulled in too many different directions. It was hell. (My new job is much quieter, which is a big relief.)

Becoming bored quickly: Hahaaaa, oh my god. You might have noticed, but I’m “in” about ten different fandoms at once, usually. And this is because it’s so, so hard to hold my interest on any one thing! Like I do have some life-long interests, such as Pokémon, but even then I also have so many other things that I’m like and that I find to entertain myself with because I cannot handle boredom, and that includes being unable to handle doing the same thing over, and over, and over. Believe it or not, that was the worst part of retail for me. It wasn’t dealing with the coworkers that I hated the most, oh no. It was the sheer monotony of having to do the same goddamn thing over and over again for eight bloody hours in a row. I distinctly remember at my last retail job feeling like my brain was actually, physically rotting, and like it would have been a mercy to scrape it out with a windshield ice scraper than to continue doing that job. At least when customers screamed at me it gave me something new to say and do. When it was just another routine day at the Barnes & Noble? That’s when I wished for sweet, merciful death (and a swift one, unlike the slow one that boredom inflicts). I should also mention that at this point I have gotten up from my seat no less than five times purely because I felt distracted and wanted to walk around a bit.

Daydreaming frequently: I have trouble with long movies because I will get distracted by something inane in the movie, get taken away on a daydream trip, and then come back sometime later only to realize I no longer have any idea what’s going on in the movie. I daydream while I’m driving (though don’t worry, I can still pay attention to the road; when it comes to driving I can multitask this). I daydream in the shower, I daydream at work, I daydream while falling asleep, I’m almost never not goddamn daydreaming. Ffs, I will be having a conversation with someone and as they’re talking to me my attention will snap to something else and I’ll go off on a thought tangent / daydream. I guess that could also fit under “easily distracted” but you get the gist. My whole life has been nothing but daydreams. There are baby pictures of me where I look like I was sedated by my parents, but actually I was probably just daydreaming even then. It’s been my perpetual state as long as I can remember.

Executive dysfunction: I have trouble keeping organized, and I procrastinate everything, even things I want to do. I will want to play a video game, but instead of turning on the game I will sit here and flip mindlessly through different internet tabs because I just cannot bring myself to start the task. And again, I do this with everything! Writing, doing chores, eating, going to bed, waking up---you name it, I procrastinate it, and this is on top of not being able to keep things organized despite how much I vastly prefer it when things are neat and tidy. I had to buy myself a schedule book just so I could try to remember when my bills are due and when my appointments are (and it does help, when I remember to use it). But honestly, I could have a terrible headache, and yet actually getting up to take medicine---or just reaching over to grab the bottle that’s conveniently within reach---feels like a task I just cannot start. It’s absurd, and yet I’ve always been like this. (Ofc if you ask my parents I’m just lazy, but again, this is even with things I want to do, like video games, or getting out of my car when I get home instead of messing with my phone for ten minutes first. It’s like the gears of my brain get stuck and I just cannot get them to move.)

Hyperfocusing: While I am incredibly easily distracted at times, at the same time when I get into something, I get really into it, and sometimes this kicks my brain into a hyperfocused state (which I didn’t even realize until recently was a hyperfocused state) where I cannot do anything else other than that task, including sleeping, eating, or otherwise taking care of myself. This usually happens with cleaning, but it can also happen with video games, with show binging, or other similar activities. Once I’m in the zone, I’m in the zone and I don’t come out of that zone until my brain has decided it has had enough / the thing is done. (Similarly, I get hyperfixations where I’m SUPER INTO one thing for a while, often churning out tons of content and such for it until it runs its course through my system. This is also when my attention to detail actually returns to me and I can remember minute details of things I love.)

And so on and so forth, you get the idea. I’ve taken a few different online tests as well, such as one I just now took that said a score of 51% or higher means that you should see a mental health professional for a diagnosis, and I scored 75%. Of course, online checklists and self-tests aren’t surefire diagnoses, but at the same time these are often very similar to the worksheets that doctors hand you in their offices. It’s not a diagnosis, but it’s something that indicates that there is something going on that you (or in this case, I) should probably have checked out.

So all in all, researching ADD and reading about the different types and how different symptoms present in different people makes me think I have it. It’s not something I thought about or fully realized until well into my adult years, but hey, at least I’ve got an idea now. (And tbh I think I have sort of a combined type going on due to the chair and fidgeting thing, as well as how fast I talk and how my mouth often has trouble keeping up with my thoughts, but still.) It also explains a lot about my childhood, adolescence, and even adult years, just like the mathematics learning disability did. It’s a missing piece to help me understand why my brain has always been like . . . this.

At any rate, hope this sates your curiosity, anon. And if you’re looking into this for yourself, I wish you the best of luck!

#total times i got up from my seat while writing this reply: 9 #total minutes it took me to write as a result despite that i type 144 WPM? 45 #jfc #Anonymous

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amateuranxiety · 5 years

Text

Ken Rants About “Vanishing World” for Probably Way Too Long

Good evening. My name is Ken, I am a dumb, overanalyzing nerd, and I have completely fallen for the narrative Vocaloid producer Grey (a.k.a. Monstrosity) has set up in the first two songs of her series, Vanishing World. I know only two out of the ten-ish-maybe? songs have been released so far, but I’ve been stewing on my thoughts for a while now and I felt that I absolutely needed to get them down somewhere. in this essay i will- I hope that people are able to see this and possibly be interested in checking the series out? I just feel like it deserves a lot more attention. I highly recommend listening to all the work on her channel. https://www.youtube.com/channel/UCrq2qxXTl7u-YKeSqIJ5xZA Now, without further ado, I give you my analysis. i feel like im giving myself too much credit for my hyperfocused ramblings lol

WARNING!

This writing discusses themes of mass death and other death related subject matter. If you are disturbed by these things, then please proceed with caution. Stay safe.

Basic Plot Summary

Vanishing World is the story of the end of the world, and the beasts who cause it. One beast for every element or force of nature or whatever. So far, they seem to choose a human to “cooperate” with in order the wreak their havoc on Earth. Human resistances rise up around the world, although not much information has been provided about them yet. Our story begins in the twenty-fifth day of the month of June, they year 2000.......

Part 1: Aberrant Garden

Kaylee Tagetes was a young girl with a remarkable, and almost scary, gift for gardening. However, as she grew, she spiraled out of control. She began fusing plants with other forms of existence, creating a deadly army for the first destruction god, Carnation. where are your parents??? Also she had this weird flower with a face growing out of her head, but I don’t think it’s that relevant also it just scares me so I’m just gonna ignore it unless I think something up about it, ok? Ok.

An investigator dispatched to “the site of the anomaly (I’m assuming this is Kaylee’s house)” finds this information and more inside of a conveniently placed exposition note that was probably just lying on the ground I guess.

Some important things I want to highlight in the note:

“However, as she grew older, she became... curious about something. Almost like a mysterious force was feeding her thoughts. What was this thing she was curious about, you ask? Simple!

...”By what means? That part... shall remain a mystery.”

“...and it was at that moment when she was poisoned by a spider monster. Acid flowed through her veins. She fell, passed out from blood loss. Probably dead.”

“‘My name is Carnation, the Monster of Flora. You shall hear more about me in the afterlife- your time is up.’“

“Into a giant maw she was dropped... no one ever saw her again as Kaylee Tagetes.”

What these things mean (probably):

Every beast is able to get into the mind of its host and pretty much possess them and lead them to do what they want.

Whoever wrote the note wants the process of monster creation to remain a mystery.

Probably dead. Probably.

use your real name, nerd the one you made up sounds stupid

She was eaten. Trapped within the monster’s stomach.

Our investigator pal jumps on the bandwagon with his own exposition!

“In the year 2100, the apocalypses rises, fear the chrome god monsters and their trapped traitor humans.”

He goes on about how weird it is that Carnation woke up 100 years before the rest. Also that note was pretty strange too I guess. But the question is, who wrote it? Well, my friend, it seems obvious that it was written by a human being, so I propose the theory that Kaylee herself wrote the note. I’ll explain my reasoning soon enough, but for it to make any sense at all (even though it still probably won’t), I need to move on to.......

quick note: the more i think about this the more stupid it sounds for reasons ill get into in a moment, but im just gonna keep the Kaylee Note Theory here in case it somehow leads to me having some grand revelation about the true author.

edit:upon further reflection it may be possible, but i still think there is plenty of room for error within my theory.

Part 2: Ulterior Spectacle

Our Earth was at peace. Finally. But they didn’t let it last.

Stephan Alexander, nineteen year old photographer and the second traitor human in our story. Using a device gifted to him by the Monster of Ice, Morzogo, he is able to freeze any landscape and turn any human being into stone with the click of a button. This device is the grand Tundra Lens. One of the worst birthdays I’ve ever heard of ngl. He goes around killing millions over a period of five months because of what Morzogo had told him.

“They don’t deserve to see the world as you do. They deserve to be a part of a picture, do they not? Make them go still so you may have the perfect picture. Travel the world and make them allll stiiiill, so they’ll be with you forever.”

To summarize the end of the story:

girl’s voice snaps him out of trance was that a pun?

instant regret for literal mass murder

suicide via medusa method (mirror, click, bye bye)

Also, if you watch the lovely PV, you’ll notice that that girl that brought him back to reality is literally Kaylee Tagetes. A twelve year old killed a chaos god of mass destruction that ate her after she was poisoned and lost a lot of blood. This takes place maybe around the year 2032 and she still looks 12. h o w ? guess she’s dead now idk all the humans are gonna be ghosts and talk about their poor life decisions in the afterlife i guess

So yeah that’s basically my explanation for my whole Kaylee wrote the note thing.

Explaining my Kaylee Note Theory:

I think I figured out how she killed Carnation. The poison in her blood. Ingesting that could have killed him. I don’t know what it takes to kill an old one or whatever those things are, but maybe??????

The prophesy just states that the human traitor are trapped. Not dead, right? dont know about poor stephan tho oof. unless the possession automatically gives you op protagonist powers. they’re probably still dead tho

I don’t know what motivation she would have for leaving the note behind though.

Maybe she wrote it as a ghost-type-person-thing????? idk i feel like im reaching at this point ive been typing for over an hour now.

also im not sure where to fit this in but some characters talk about The Crisis which is where humans randomly turn into monsters????? idk its just been brought up once so far so i dont know what to think of it.

Alright. The last thing I want to talk about today is.......

Zone-B and Codename:NULL

We first meet Codename:NULL in the description of Battle: Xelzerin (that’s Carnation’s real name btw. i guess he’s a dork who doesn’t think his full name sounds cool like me). She’s receiving an email from another Zone-B member, Codename:GANYMEDE, who basically gives us some information about Xelzerin we didn’t already know. Including the fact that Xelzerin isn’t dead??? i should have re-read everything before i started typing this has just turned into one big semi-organized mess im so sorry

anyway!! foreshadowing about the Earth and Electric beasts, NULL’s name is revealed to be Madeline in the description of Ulterior Spectacle, and apparently Stephan froze over 70% of the world in only five months. Probably a rich kid.

if i weren’t so tired and had more information about a story that’s barely half-way done, i feel like i would be much more thorough with my analysis and theories. i may type out a part 2 once song three drops. until then, ill wait patiently. maybe ill choke out a little theory if i have a sudden revelation but nothing on this scale. maybe ill be able to choke out a timeline as well. i can barely spell i should probably stop hope you enjoyed sorry it go so messy towards the end especially right here ily goodbye.

proofreading: barely im sorry

#vanishing world #vanishing beasts #monstrosity #monstrosity vocaloid #aberrant garden #ulterior spectacle #kaylee tagetes #stephan alexander #ken does theory #im coughing so much please save me im tired #vocaloid

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