#‘I have an anxiety disorder mom’ ‘one that has been diagnosed?’ ‘uh. yeah. since high school. so I could get extra time on tests’ | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

strangevampy · 1 year

Photo

talking about life, idk, a blog?

uh- so life has actually been going kinda well! i recently got good enough grades to be exempt from 2 tests, so i don’t have to take them, and i feel good, considering one of those classes is by far one of the hardest. i happen to be an honors student, in high school taking classes wayyy above my grade. i happen to be the only underclassmen in almost all of my classes, and somehow still manage to get good grades. am i burnt out? yeah. did i struggle with getting good grades? also yes, in fact it’s part of the reason i was admitted into the mental hospital. that’s- a totally different story for another day, but i am definitely open to talking about it if anyone has questions :) i am better now, and while i’m in the process of getting diagnosed with another mental disorder, i’ve learned to manage my depression and anxiety pretty well overall :]

my current relationship is.. confusing, but i’m sure something will happen, not entirely sure if that something will be good or bad, though.. eh, i’ll worry about that on my own time; i don’t necessarily think relationship issues should be thrown out into the public, especially considering the fact i haven’t really expressed my concern much to him, so it would be gross of me to just- throw it out to people i don’t even know, yk? weird people like to make drama out of simple things (*cough* REDDIT. *cough*)

but other than that, my last day of school is friday, and i’m pretty hyped about it :] my mom is making me create a resume so i can get a job or two, AND wants me to join a sports camp. i mean- yeah i wanna get a job, hell, maybe even two or three since i have the time, but i also need to fix on getting my driver’s permit and shit like that, and while yeah, i wanna do as much as i can and not rot in my room over the summer, i also just- wanna chill. i got an offer to work with kids and get payed for it (i love working with children) and my mom butt in saying ��you did tell her she’ll do it for free, right?” (for anyone wondering, i use he/him, but my family isn’t very supportive or acknowledging of it) and i just- found that stupid. don’t get me wrong, i would totally do it for free, but like- if you want me to get a job, and i’m doing something i love, why can’t i get payed for it? idk, it sounded illogical to me.

anyways, since you guys stuck around, here’s some recent art :) yes a lot of it is unfinished

#artists on tumblr #blog #daily life #original art #burnt out #student #high school #trans #gay #agender #dude #darlingrose #chill #lgbtq #mentally tired

1 note · View note

mimzy-writing-online · 5 years

Text

Mourning My Vision- It’s more than depression...

Writing a post at 2 am when I’m absolutely exhausted and starting to lose it? Yeah, okay. This blog isn’t called The Late Night Writing Advice blog for nothing.

Okay, it’s 2 am and there’s something I want to talk to you guys about.

So my blog is known (I think?) as that one writing advice blog run by the visually impaired/blind person who makes posts on how to write blind characters. Those are my most popular posts. But I don’t talk as much about my personal experiences with blindness. So, here’s some of that.

I talk about the mourning period some people go through when they suddenly have a new disability, mourning the life they had before the disability and all the things they could do before but can’t do now.

For a lot of people that mourning period is depression. But saying that depression is the only form of a mourning period is a disservice and it actually hurt me in the long run to believe that.

The mourning period can take many forms, and a lot of it depends on how you got the disability, where you are in your life currently, and what your mental state was like before the disability.

Some forms are: PTSD, Anxiety, physical health issues such as fatigue, insomnia, oversleeping, anger, denial, emotional suppression followed by outbursts or emotional breakdowns. That’s off the top of my sleep deprived mind at least.

My personal experience of the mourning period was developing (redeveloping?) an anxiety disorder.

This is going to get long, but please keep reading. It’s important.

I had (and still would have had even if I never went blind) at least some anxiety. I thought it was social anxiety, but I would say it was more generalized anxiety, it’s just that the social aspect was what I was most concerned with when I got my diagnosis at age fifteen.

Uh, mental health history? I’ve had lifelong insomnia and anxiety and have struggled off and on with depression. I also might have had some PTSD in the past, though it was never diagnosed. I also have ADHD but I didn’t know that or get diagnosed until this past year, 2019.

I started noticeably going blind at the age of 22. I’d always needed glasses, but I was never (in italics) blind. Glasses always corrected to 20/20 until I was 22. I would like to mention that I started showing symptoms of vision issues at the age of 20, and at the time they were of some concern but I didn’t realize how concerning they were until I turned 22.

At age 22 I started getting shuffled around doctors office after doctors office. I wanted a diagnosis and to know if I would lose more vision. My mom wanted to help fix me. I did not want to be fixed. I’m not sure exactly why, but I didn’t want to be fixed. I was fine with it. At least, I thought I was.

Truth be told, I needed a cane when I was 20/21. I’m day blind and it began putting me in danger when I was 20/21, and I would need a sighted guide (usually my best friend) during the day time.

A quick note on day blindness: In situations with bright lighting, mostly outside during the day, as the name suggests, I am at my most blind. My eyes just don’t know how to process light. They take in too much light. Don’t know why. But image it’s like a camera and if it takes in too much light and becomes over exposed, the photograph becomes distorted and almost white. Literally take a photo of outside and use a photo editing app to turn the exposure as high up as possible. That’s me. Try navigating in that. Also bright light causes me awful, intense, never ending pain. I have to wear sunglasses outside to minimize the pain. The darker the better, but even the darkest lenses don’t completely take away the pain.

Back on topic-

And at 22, with enough vision loss, I decided it was “okay” for me to get a cane. I’d needed it for two years, but I waited because medically and legally I couldn’t be considered visually impaired, let alone legally blind, even though I had a whole section of the day, literally half the day every day, where I could expect to be 50-90% completely blind with white vision the second I stepped outside.

Which is why I get so pissy at the idea of “legal blindness” and letting sighted people determine what is blind and not blind and who gets aide and who doesn’t.

I wanted to get a cane. My mom said no. I was giving into my blindness too early. We could still get a doctor to solve all my problems. There had to be some surgery (which terrified me) to make me see normally again. But I didn’t think a doctor could cure what was wrong with me, and I was still terrified to go anywhere alone.

School was some kind of hell that year.

Seven months after doctors noticed I couldn’t see 20/20 with correction anymore, when I was starting to see 20/50 with best correction, I had an accident.

I was walking through a parking lot at two in the afternoon. It was October. It was bright out because I live in Southern California. I was following a friend. My whole method of travel was to walk one step behind and one step to the left or right of whoever I was with and stare at the ground hoping I could see their shoes and to listen for anything important. Not safe. Very bad.

And the world went blank.

I couldn’t see a thing.

I knew where I was. There was a building in front of me and I knew that as soon as I was in it’s shadow I would see more.

But the curb came before the shadow and I tripped.

I fell without seeing where I was falling.

It was terrifying.

I was fine. Ish. Fine-ish. My knees were both bloody and swollen for a week. I had scars from that for eight months. My palms were scraped to hell. I was limping. Nobody saw the blood because I was wearing pants and I still started bleeding at my knees.

I went home less than an hour later. Saw my bloody knees and marched to my mom and demanded I get a cane.

She had already just had a panic attack. I didn’t know that. I don’t know what caused it, but it was good timing because for once she didn’t fight it. I ordered my cane. And two weeks after I ordered it, it finally came. And that first day I noticed that having it made me feel safer. I knew that (finally) I wasn’t completely helpless, at the mercy of whoever was with me and whatever circumstances I was in. I had a bit of safety to help me find all the things I couldn’t see but could get hurt on. Like curbs.

It’s been two years, to the day I think, since I got it. I had just gotten it before Halloween and was still getting used to it and how differently people treated me on Halloween night. Halloween in 2017, and now it’s the 28th of October in 2019 as I’m writing this.

So, what happened to me was I was waiting for the mourning period to be a period of depression.

But instead it was anxiety, and possibly PTSD.

Leaving my house was terrifying. Any time I was out in public I was hyper vigilant of everything happening around me, especially if I couldn’t see it. Loud and sudden sounds made me jump. I would tense up. I couldn’t think. Sometimes headphones was my only way to calm down.

That was my mourning period. But I didn’t understand that until a few months ago when I was writing a chapter from Ulric’s perspective (Ulric is my blind character in A Witch’s Memory, a novel I’m currently editing). In the chapter I was writing about the mourning period and how he experienced it. Depression would be very in character for him. And he already has PTSD and anxiety too.

But then I realized my anxiety disorder (generalized anxiety disorder) was my mourning period.

Actually, a lot of my experience with vision loss snuck into that story. Including Ulric fighting to get his parents to accept that he was blind and that he didn’t want to be cured because the cure had its own cost. And his fight to get his cane and orientation and mobility training.

That was my mourning period. I wish at the time I knew depression wasn’t the only sign of it. It might have led to me getting therapy or treatment earlier. But it’s too late to change that.

Maybe reading this will help someone else.

It’s getting late. I’m going to reread this and check for spelling errors, and then I’m going to post it before I chicken out. Goodnight.

#actually blind #writeblr #blindness #writing community #my post #mine #mental health #anxiety #ptsd #mental health tw #ptsd tw #anxiety tw #blood tw #blood mention #personal experience #okay to reblog #please reblog #blind character #blind writer

217 notes · View notes

robininthelabyrinth · 6 years

Note

Coldwave au idea: Lens life is better (dad is dead, mom stayed, etc) micks life worse. Their 1st meeting isnt big event for Len now but Mick is obsessed. Stalks him for right moment to have Len forever. Nabs Len. Makes Len his. Dark happy ending

I am so sorry, anon. I promise I will write you something nice and dark at some point. But I tried three times and every time I tried, it got fluffier and fluffier and fluffier until you have what you see below.

ao3 link (i.e. Harley Quinn fic 2)

———————————————————————————–

Lewis Snart is a corrupt cop with a sideline in Family work.

He’s also an incompetent thief, relying on suggestions from his nine year old son to fix his plans, but he refuses to admit such a thing. And so it is, when Len unexpectedly falls sick with a flu that robs him of his voice, he shrugs and does without.

He fails.

The Families have no patience for failure.

Lewis Snart is gunned down in his own house, before the horrified eyes of his son and his infant daughter.

Len’s foster home - both his and Lisa’s, a kind-hearted couple who fell for her golden curls and couldn’t bring themselves to tear her away from her sobbing elder brother - makes him get so much therapy.

That’s probably what makes him decide to become a shrink, really.

And that, in turn, is what leads to -

Well.

Everything else.

“- and that’s why I need your help,” Len concludes.

The woman in front of him looks utterly bewildered. Len’s not sure why; he thought he’d been perfectly clear.

“Should I start again?” he offers.

“Please do, mister,” she says, raising a hand up and pinching the bridge of her nose. “No, wait a sec. I gotta few preliminary questions, stating off with how’d you find out where me and Ivy were hanging out, anyways?”

“Really good fertilizer has a higher toxicity rate than normal soil,” Len explains. “I got the last two geological surveys, which Gotham gets with startling regularity; this was the only place that changed. Next question?”

“So that’s how Bats keeps finding us,” she mutters crossly. “Damnit, Ivy.”

“Maybe if you suggested she start a few new gardens each time instead of focusing on just one?”

“She doesn’t want to leave her ‘babies’ alone for that long. Second question: what in hell made you think that finding me ta ask for help was a good idea?”

Len blinks at her. “Why not? I have a problem and I need assistance from a colleague, and - as I said - you have the most expertise in -”

“I’m Harley Quinn, sweetie,” she interrupts. “I’m a supervillain.”

“What, and you stopped having your PhD as a result?”

“I’m pretty sure I’ve had my license revoked,” she says helplessly.

“Don’t mean you got a lobotomy and forgot it all.”

“Fair enough,” Harley says, clearly giving up on convincing him. “So, yeah, start again, I wasn’t listening on account of thinking you was nuts. What’s your issue again? And why am I the best person to help you?”

“Okay,” Len says. He wouldn’t be as good a shrink as he is if he wasn’t patient and willing to go over things multiple times. “I’m a licensed psychiatrist specializing in severe disorders among the criminal population -”

“Same as I was,” Harley agrees.

“Yeah, and also like you, I specialize in self-identified supervillains.”

“Tell me you didn’t get a job at Arkham!” she exclaims, horrified.

“Oh, no, nothing like that,” Len assures her. “I work in Central City.”

“I guess that’s better…”

“Debatable. At least Gotham has an asylum, even if it is Arkham. We just have Iron Heights regular wing and Iron Heights supervillain wing. Not ideal for therapy, even once they’re out.”

“Out?”

“Iron Heights is something of a revolving door,” Len says. “Again, much like Arkham, but more urgent in the exit strategies. Honestly, in my view, it’s all for the best that they get out; most of my patients are definitely not being helped by confinement in a frankly abusive situation by people who don’t understand their particular needs -”

“No kidding,” Harley replies enthusiastically. “Even Arkham doesn’t care, it’s more about tryin’ ta keep ‘em from society than it is about actually taking care of ‘em and trying to make 'em better -”

“Exactly,” Len exclaims, nodding. He knew she’d understand. “The interaction of the superhero culture with the particular neuroses of these individuals results in -”

“- an entirely new pathology, necessitating by definition a different form of treatment -”

“This is why I came to you,” Len says, pleased.

Harley paused, flushing a little. “Well, I guess I do still take somethin’ of an interest. So you treat supervillains?”

“I actually have a rather unorthodox approach,” Len says. “Central City supervillains are often using their supervillainy to work through deep-seated issues - one is dealing with the loss of a younger brother he built much of his identity around, another is a clinical narcissist, yet another is a diagnosed pyromaniac with anxiety issues…”

“Yeah? You getting anywhere with 'em?”

“Actually, yes. In contrast to the traditional approach, which emphasizes care in a clinical setting - one that many of them reject rather, uh, forcefully due to various traumas in their pasts - I’ve taken an alternative approach of working on their issues in their own setting.”

Harley pauses mid-nod. “I know that’s a pretty common technique for patients in regular treatment, mixing with them in their own environments and whatnot,” she says cautiously. “But for these guys - ain’t their own setting supervillainy?”

“It is,” Len says steadily.

Harley holds out a little longer, but he doesn’t elaborate.

“Okay, I’ll bite,” she says. “How’re you treatin’ 'em?”

“They’ve created identities as supervillains, and they want to be recognized as supervillains,” Len explains. “It’s important to them. They form entire coping rituals around it. So I meet with them on their own level, acknowledging and respecting them as supervillains.”

“Won’t that require, uh, you being a super, too?”

Len shrugs. “I explained my approach to the Flash - he’s our local cape - and he’s real reasonable about it. We staged a few fights, couple of thefts -”

“Wait. You’re a supervillain?!”

“Technically I’m just engaging in a police-approved therapeutic roleplay with -”

“What’s your name? Have I heard of ya? Tell me I’ve heard of you!”

“I mean, it’s possible -”

“Alias, now! I’m tired of being the only shrink supervillain.”

“Captain Cold.”

“Holy crap, I have heard of ya! You’re the - oh, man, the Rogues! The Rogues are your patients?”

Len nods.

“How?!”

“I 'rescued’ them from prison. Technically, I’m acting as a guarantee for their parole officers -”

“And ya keep 'em from killing anyone.”

“Exactly. And I work with 'em in the meantime. I’ve made a lot of progress - Pied Piper is actually transitioning to working with the heroes on a regular basis, he’s actually dating a cop now and he’s dealing with his internalized self-hatred in a much healthier way -”

“Nice,” Harley says, offering her hand for a high-five. “That’s much better; if Ivy or Ozzie asks what I was doing, I can just say supervillain meet-up.”

Len frowns. “Are they restricting your access to non-supervillain acquaintances?”

“No, no, nothing like that! We’re just dealing with a small infestation of Owls - don’t worry about it; you don’t want to get involved in Gotham’s shit. No one does. Anyway. Tell me about the problem.”

“It’s not really - he’s not - it’s not a problem, really.”

Harley’s eyebrows go up pointedly and she leans back in her chair, crossing her arms.

“Mick Rory,” Len confesses. “Heatwave, our pyromaniac - diagnosed, as I mentioned, and working with a traditional shrink as well as with me. He’s working real hard on getting better, but it’s tough – it’s a long-standing issue. He’s had the pyromania and anxiety since childhood, and then his parents died in a fire and he got blamed, and then things went downhill from there, so you can imagine the rest.”

Harley nods. “Sounds knotty,” she agrees.

“He’s making plenty of progress, though,” Len assures her.

“So what’s the problem?”

“He’s – well. He’s developed something of a crush on me,” Len admits.

“Ooooh boy.”

“No, it’s - it’s not like that. It’s cute. He tries to stalk me sometimes.”

“Stalking ain’t cute, buddy. Trust me.”

“No, no, nothing like that. It’s, like, he hides behind lampposts. He pretends to be reading a newspaper, like that hides his face at all. Stuff like that, it’s absurd. And if I ever tell him not to follow me, he doesn’t.”

“So you haven’t asked him to knock it off generally?”

Len hesitates.

“Yep, that’s what I thought,” she says. “So lemme stop you right where you are: no. Don’t do it. Falling for a patient isn’t just ethically wrong, it’s - well. It’s a bad idea. Trust me.”

“That’s why I came to you, actually,” Len says. “You being the ultimate expert in HQS and all.”

“HQS?”

Len coughs.

“…tell me that don’t stand for Harley Quinn Syndrome.”

“If you don’t want me to tell you, I won’t. Won’t change it, though.”

“Oh jeez. I can’t believe it. You know, when I wished on my twenty-first birthday candle to go down in the history books, I ought’ve been more specific.”

Len shrugs sympathetically.

“So what do you need advice in? How not to fall for your patient?”

“That,” Len says grimly, “or else I’m gonna need to give you a referral so that he won’t be my patient anymore.”

“Oh, sweetie,” Harley says. “You’ve got it bad.”

“Harls?” Mick says into his phone. “You got a minute?”

“For you, sweetie, definitely,” she says. There’s the ripping sound of duct tape and the yelling in the background turns into muffled shouting. “What’s up?”

“I don’t wanna bug you if you’re doing something else…”

“Nah, no business or nothing. Spa day with the Sirens, fucking up some bad guys, but the girls have got it covered. Talk to me, baby. You sound upset.”

“I think I’ve done it again,” Mick says sadly.

“Gonna have to be more specific, sparky. Lit a serious fire? Went mano-a-mano with the Flash? Decided to blow up a building?”

“I kidnapped Len and moved him into my basement so we could be together forever.”

“Mick!”

“I left the door open, though,” Mick says earnestly. “I didn’t want him feeling confined or nothing.”

Harley face-palms. Mick can hear it. “Well, that’s something,” she says. “You know he loves you, right?”

“I know he thinks he does…”

“That’s just your anxiety talkin’. He’s dating you because he wants to be with you. S’why he referred you ta me. Tell me, did you at least leave him the key, too?”

“What key?”

“…didn’t you lock him up?”

“No! You know how Len feels about being stuck and unable to get out of places.”

“So you kidnapped him, took him to your basement, and…left him there with the door open and not tied up?”

“I made him dinner, too?”

“…you know what? I’m gonna call this progress. Now, I need you to go sit down and write about what your day was like so we can try to identify what led you to this decision…”

#dccoldwave #mick rory #leonard snart #my fic #Harley quinn #poison ivy

49 notes · View notes

elenawickman-blog · 7 years

Text

TCoW Update #3

Yooo guess who had the most unproductive month of June in the history off all her writing? *raises hand* Yeah, whoops. I did horrible last month. I literally wrote 8000 words. That’s pathetic for me, when my dumb goal was to write 1000 words every day. That did not happen! Pathetic excuse #1: I went to New York City for a week with no computer access Pathetic excuse #2: I went camping for a week with no computer access Pathetic excuse #3: I went hiking in southern Utah for a week with no computer access Pathetic excuse #3: This is less pathetic than reasons 1 and 2, and is actually pretty legit. So, I got this volunteer opportunity at my animal shelter where I’m now working to train/rehabilitate behaviorally challenged dogs to make them more adoptable. Using only positive reinforcement of course, because duh. But yeah. Pathetic excuse #4: I started dog training, yaaas! Pathetic excuse #5: Okay, so this one’s going to go a little more in-depth. So, uh, I think I’ll leave a trigger warning here. Talks mildly about depression and anxiety, and high-key about the hard stuff with living with a chronic illness. So if you don’t want to read about that/it’s triggering for you, skip to where I talk about my book instead. :)

So, I’m currently fighting for a second, third, and fourth diagnosis right now. I only have one, and it does not encompass all of what I’m going through every day. My mom and I are positive I have Fibromyalgia (runs in the family, I have legit all the symptoms), and I’m positive I have a sensory processing disorder and depression. I’ve had depression since I was eight years old. It went away for like a year, but then my illnesses got worse and it just came running back.

So June was a really hard month for me. I felt like I was just sick. All. The Time. Because honestly, I was sick all the time. I am sick all the time. And none of my medications have worked so far. It’s really frustrating, because I’m sick and tired of being sick and tired. I can’t remember what it feels like to be healthy. I mean, the only time in my life when I was 100% healthy was when I was a baby. And that’s about it. The sensory issues came, and then the fatigue, then depression, then the myriad of other symptoms I have now that are progressively getting worse each year.

Fighting for diagnoses, so I can have the comfort of just knowing what the heck’s wrong with me and having more doctoral support. News flash to those who aren’t chronically ill: Most doctors kind of suck at their jobs. Some are good. I’ve had, so far, two good ones. And I’ve seen every doctor possible within the state, probably. The rest have accused me of anorexia or some other eating disorder (tell that to the pizza I ate last night), of just having “growing pains” (if these are growing pains then I must be growing to be 10000 feet tall like wth), of it being “all in my head” (lol um yeah it is I have chronic migraines and a headache every day sooo), or some other stupid brush off. I’ve had doctors tell me “Try yoga!” “Try exercising more!” And when I tell them that I exercise every day, it’s: “Try exercising less!” “Eat more!” “Gain some weight!” “Stop being vegan!” Side note: I did stop being vegan for two months per one doctor’s recommendation earlier this year. IT MADE EVERYTHING WORSE.

And I’m also fighting for a service dog, with my parents. I have so many issues. So so so many issues. There are literally a bajillion things a service dog could do to me. I want my independence back.

I’ve been in a dark place recently. I’m trying to stay positive. I really, really am. But it’s hard to be positive when your body and your mind are both stabbing you in the back, constantly, and demanding you hate yourself and stop being happy and don’t do anything with your life. It’s hard to fight against both my body and my brain every day, all the time. It’s like: Me: “Yo body, can I go to the movies today?” Body: “Yeah sure, that’s fine. We’ll only give you a level 5 pain today.” Brain: “HA HA NOPE! Have a horrid headache!” Mind: “ALSO you hate yourself today.” Brain & Mind: *high five*

I just need to fight through the pain. I need to. I want to keep writing. I want to be a writer. I want to publish this book, and so many other books in the future. And in order to do that, I just have to push through the pain, the fatigue, the frustration, the self-deprecation, and write. It’s really difficult to do that. I have so much motivation to write. My soul and spirit are jumping around, ready to do just that. But my body, brain, and mind aren’t.

But I’m going to try to do it. Fight the illnesses, fight the diagnoses, fight the frustration.

So anyway. Obviously I’m giving this update because I wrote today!

Words written today: 1027 Current word count: 10,574 (Broke 10K YAAS!) Time written today: 1 hr 13 minutes and still going strong! Music of today: Lydia. The band Lydia is AMAZING. I spammed like two and a half of their albums or something.

I’m not going to set any goals for a little while. I’m just going to go easy on myself and let myself chill out and enjoy writing. No more hard-pressed deadlines, word count expectations, or any of that. Not until I can find a little more relief from what’s going on in my life right now. Once I find that, I’ll kick back into gear of my Type-A self.

Oh man, though. It’s hard to repress the need to set goals and push myself. aaaggghhh why perfectionism whyyyyyy

1 note · View note

silkyandsurveys · 4 years

Text

survey 6

Do you do careless things like spill nail polish on your nightstand?

yeah i’m definitely a little bit of a careless person sometimes

How are you today?

i actually had a good like 90% of my day i woke up early ate pretty well worked out went to therapy spent time with friends outside for a couple hours talked about the next year of my life but then my car wouldn’t start and i cried for 30 minutes then got picked up and then it started to work again and then i got taco bell. i’m not mad at my food choice though because i didn’t go over my calorie limit at all

When someone messages you and you know it’s going to be rude, do you ignore it and not read it, or do you read it and reply?

normally if i’m getting a text message from a friend or person in my life trying to cause i fight it depends on the situation. if i feel like the situation is worth working out then i’ll reply but if not no.

Do you find online drama stressful?

online drama is just crazy and honestly pointless. it can get a little exhilarating i’m not gonna lie but it’s really dumb

How stressful is your life?

lately my life has been very minimal stress which is just really great

Do you like your hair better curly or straight?

i think curly

What’s your favorite vegetable?

broccoli is my favorite

Do you have a youtube channel? If so, what is it? (Msg me if u want to watch mine!)

i would love to but no

What song best describes your life?

i don’t have just one i have a life soundtrack playlist but not one song

Would you ever post your most embarrassing moment story on youtube, or is that too embarrassing for you?

i would tell the story. i have always been a person capable of laughing at myself

If you have a youtube channel, do you post more serious videos or fun?

i don’t have a youtube :(

Are you keeping any secrets from your parents?

uhm i really had my issues with disordered eating from my mom

What are your favorite things to watch on youtube?

it so depends on the phase i’m in. rn i can’t stop watching amber lynn reid reactions and compilations. the past month was sinjin drowning and sarah baska so it really switches up

Was any of your home decor inspired by Pinterest?

yeah my photo wall

Do you do yoga?

no but i wish i did lowkey

What is something you have tried and hated?

calamari

Do you have regrets?

i think everyone has regrets it’s how much you dwell on them that really make them matter. i don’t have any large regrets only small ones like not seeing 1d in concert and stuff like that

Are you a good person?

i think i am

Who do you look up to?

lol harry styles oops

Do you do the right thing or the wrong thing more?

i think i do the right thing a lot of the time but i like to be rebellious sometimes and i act up

Are you rebellious?

bruh i literlaly didn’t read this before the last question but not super rebellious just a little and it’s nothing huge

How many tattoos do you have?

i don’t have any but when i turn 18 i’m going to get one

What do you want to name your first child?

depends on gender. i’ve always gravitated towards finn

Are you mad at someone?

i’m not mad at someone directly i’m just mad at a person who i dropped from toxicity and how awful of a person they are

What is this month’s calendar picture?

i don’t have a monthly calendar. i wish i did i used to quite like them

What is your last ex-boyfriend’s or ex-girlfriend’s name?

doesn’t exist

Do you have an ex-friend that you miss?

i miss the person two of my ex friends use to be but i don’t miss them now or anymore really

What color do you want your wedding dress to be?

definitely white it’s just very elegant and classic

What is your favorite zoo animal?

i refuse to go to a zoo it makes me cry

Who were your favorite bands as a kid or teenager?

5sos 1d you know

Do you use snapchat?

i actually hate snapchat it’s my least favorite social media app. i literally use it to snaochat my 1 friend back and forth snapchat my sister and use school grouochat and my one friend groupchat and that’s it

How many months until your birthday?

7? i think

Would you rather go out for pancakes or steak?

the vibes of going to breakfast with your friends after a hella rough night is unbeatable

What’s your favorite ramen noodle flavor?

the chicken one is great but i haven’t tried any others that i can remember

What decade were you born in?

the 00’s

What is/was your favorite Homecoming Week day?

uh i think this means like high school spirit week? i’m actually mega confused but i love decades day if that’s what this question is asking

How do you feel when you read the Bible, if you read it? Encouraged? Angry?

i haven’t read it since middle school. never felt anything by it. makes me roll my eyes now if i’m being honest

Have you ever suffered from anxiety?

yes sir crippling anxiety from ages 5-9 but now it’s just your average anxiety dweller

Have you ever suffered from depression?

yes ma’am diagnosed in ninth grade and diagnosed again in 11 and finally got help

Have you ever seen an angel or a demon?

uhm i don’t think so. i see angel numbers though

What is something a lot of people like but you don’t?

acrylic nails ugh i hate them so much

What color is your favorite pair of jeggings or skinny jeans?

uhm black i think i haven’t worn jeans in so long and i don’t like skinny jeans

Do you own any bellbottoms?

not necessarily bell bottoms no

Do you own a dreamcatcher?

i do but it’s actually still in my old room at my old house

What season’s colors do you look best in?

winter for sure the cool tones of things look best on me

Have you ever done something incredibly stupid?

duh i think everyone has

Do you have revenge fantasies that you never actually play out?

omg i play out about none of my revenge fantasies and i constantly think of new ones

What is your favorite mystical creature?

angel

What do you want to be when you grow up?

something in media or owning a small business

Are you truly happy, or are you only happy because you’re doing something to distract yourself from your problems? Or are you just sad?

uhm i’m working on it. i think i’m a person who’s getting over sadness and gaining happiness but is distracting themselves from their problems

Have you ever lost something amazing because you held on to it too hard?

no i don’t think so

Is there a guy or girl you let slip away and you wish you hadn’t?

uh yeah

Do you ever wonder what could have been?

100% being an over thinker does not help this case. i question every decision i’ve made some times and i always wonder what could have been or what would my life be like now

What’s an uplifting song you like to listen to?

ariana lol

Paisleys or plaid?

plaid def

What’s your vocal range?

not much lol i can’t really sing

0 notes