#and i told all the therapists (3) i've had in the past 5 years. that i dont believe in therapy. but they are so convinced they can help

[frecklystars]

feels absolutely fucking devastating that i cant look at TF without getting nauseous. i tried to draw starscream giving me a hug bc i miss him and i need him but i couldnt make it past 5 minutes without getting sick. i cant do it. i cant fucking do it. i hate my abuser for what she did to me, i hate that she took my joy from me. i spend all this time loving all over ryan's/margot's characters but then i get hit with this fucking empty numb stab to the chest when i remember what i lost. i spent 3 years thinking about TF nonstop so of course my brain is automatically remembering TF because it's used to receiving serotonin from that -- but now when TF pops into my head, it's like, i get that sick feeling, this ache in my core that's like... i lost something that helped me stay alive and i feel aimless without it. i love ken but he isnt starscream. i love six but he isnt bee. i love seb but he isn't fixit.

well it really isn't my birthday unless if i'm having a fucking breakdown right. i wasn't supposed to live this year. i say that every year, but this was such a bad fucking year, this was the worst year of my life and it just keeps fucking going. i cannot put into words how much of your own life trauma takes from you. it's the only thing your brain can think about and you're even hurting when you're asleep. i attempted to take my life so many times and someone i trusted used that against me, took advantage of my vulnerability and turned my only comfort characters against me. im bitter and im depressed and i just want that part of myself back but it just feels so hopeless

there was nothing that comforted me the way TF did, the cameos i bought, the comics i made, the animatics i planned, the playlists with hundreds of songs that i can no longer listen to. the endless amounts of shows and movies i could have spent time enjoying. fuck, if i didn't meet my abuser, i'd be enjoying earthspark. i've heard that stsc is treated with respect there, that his abuse is taken seriously. and he's voiced. by steve. blum. and i would have loved it. i would have wept for it. i would have made so much art. that was MY JOY that was fucking ROBBED from me. steve blum told me with his own voice in his own words looking into my eyes, keri i hope you enjoy earthspark, im excited for you to see starscream. and i. cant.

it's horrifying when my therapist tells me that my reaction to TF isnt just a c-ptsd trigger response but it's also a grief response. that im grieving this Thing because it's so ruined. and it's not just TF that i lost, it's... the experiences, like, what the hell dude i met steve blum after two years of buying so many personalized voice clips from him. that man held me in his arms and squeezed me so tight and he acted like he was as excited to meet me as i was to meet him. he recognized my name written on that envelope i gave to him, and was so overjoyed to meet his "little starflower". that was the best moment of my life and now i look back on it and i just cry about it bc i feel nothing. im so numb to everything related to TF and the voice actors. i've spent hours chatting back and forth with the voice actor for fixit... i have so many cameos and messages/chats where he was so kind to me and we'd talk about anything and everything. i have so many cameos from so many different TF voice actors, instant messages, shoutouts. and when i replay the voice clips of the characters saying "i love you" to me, to me, personalized with my name, it's like i'm hearing them but i'm not internalizing them. like the love the characters have for me is hitting an invisible forcefield and it won't reach me anymore. it's like all of the time i spent loving and being loved by these characters meant jack shit. i had special experiences with real people! with real voice actors!! i had!!! conversations!!! ive had my artwork held in these peoples hands!!!! my art is on steve blum's desk!!!! his agent promoted my artwork on instagram three separate times before he put it on all of his websites and i can't be happy about that anymore. i'm trying! i'm trying!! but i feel nothing! it's not like i want to feel this way!

and im bitter about it. i was mistreated for so long, and when i was offline, unable to defend myself, my abuser spread rumors about me to artists that i had never even met. our friends in our inner circle blocked me when i was hurting and i hadn't even spoken to them in months, and when i asked why i was suddenly unable to chat with them, she said "don't worry about it." she spent MONTHS trying to tarnish my name despite the fact that i cut ties with her way back in the beginning of the year. i remember the time she told me over the phone "i'm getting attached to you... it's not good. that's going to be a problem for you." and i didn't know what she meant at the time but god that was my 50 billionth red flag that i overlooked. she told me repeatedly that she hurts people. i almost thought she was bragging about it, she wore her misery like a badge. i just kept taking excuse after excuse after excuse until this person killed the core part of myself. i had no strength to fight back. i hate myself for putting up with all of her shitty behavior. i sometimes wish i never ever got into TF at all in the first place, so i'd never meet her, so i'd never know all of the f/os that i lost

barbie at least breathed a little bit of life back into me but i still have days where i feel like a zombie. im just a dead body feeling like my heart was ripped out of me and im supposed to just go through the fucking motions as if nothing happened? as if someone didnt spend over a year hurting me on purpose every chance she got? and i spent the whole day today trying so so so hard to enjoy my birthday, but i had ptsd flashbacks at work. i still have nightmares about my f/os physically hurting me and saying that they're doing it for my abuser. sometimes i have nightmares about ken hurting me, the dream starts off really soft but then suddenly my abuser will show up and it's as if he's under a spell, and he snaps into some entirely different person, fists raised and he becomes a monster. i've never associated my abuser with any of ryan's characters but! im just traumatized! i guess!!!

i didnt start to enjoy my bday today until i sat down to watch the barbie movie with one of my friends. but once that ended i saw that inbox message of someone loving starscream so much and it made me so nauseous. i miss him. i had something so fucking special and it's ruined and i just want it back. im never getting it back. "this is not a temporary love" was just a big fucking joke. my saving starlight AU, all of the years i've spent working on my stories and my universes, everything i've done, all of it was so pointless. it's so painful to look at a comfort character and to flinch, to immediately think that they'd have no greater joy than to betray me the way my abuser did. she would go into such explicit detail about the vile, disgusting things they would do, the most atrocious unspeakable things, and i can't shake that out of my head. i keep holding onto blind hope that i can heal from it but it feels hopeless

i can only afford therapy once a month now, i can't afford my meds, i'm never going to have parents or siblings who will love me. i wasn't supposed to live to see my bday this year and i am so fucking angry that none of my attempts worked. there's one attempt that was so close and i think about it at least once every few days, how i'd surely succeed if i tried one more time. and that scares me!!! i don't want to think like that!!!! i want to get better damn it!!!! i'm so sick of feeling so goddamn bad!!!! but i've never had self shipping be ruined for me like that, i've never had comfort characters be ruined for me, i've never had a special interest be turned into a trigger and used against me. i've never been betrayed by someone i trusted like that.

i am grateful for barbie/ken/six/etc but god it's not enough. it's not starscream, it's not bee, it's not what i had before. it's not the same. and when this hyperfixation fades i'm going to go back to feeling nothing, and i'm so terrified of that. i don't want to go back to crawling and begging to feel something again. i'm shocked this hyperfixation has lasted longer than 2 months. i don't want to lose it, i'm so scared of when i'll lose it and when i'll be completely empty again.

i am so broken it's like someone spent over a year stabbing me with a dull knife and then cutting me off from a handful of my friends, kicking me into the dirt and everyone expects me to just get up and brush it off. and i feel like people don't understand this feeling unless if they've experienced abuse/ptsd as well. it feels like my bday every year gets worse and worse and if i'm going to feel this fucking bad i wish that something inside of me would finally just kill me. i'm sick of being so heartbroken and if things can't get better then i really just want it all to be over. i dont care whats in the afterlife, if there's something or if there's nothing, anything is better than this constant misery eating me up

#vent #delete later #suicide mention

[lesbian-spiders]

had a really good therapy session today and talked about preverbal and nonverbal memories: memories that were either created before the brain had capacity for narrative memories, or was unable to attach narrative to a memory for whatever reason.

I've been struggling for the past three years with flashbacks that had no narrative, no story, and usually just an intrusive image and a really intense feeling. these memories would be triggered, I'd naturally have a panic attack, and then I would immediately deny said memory. because it felt so unlike any other memory I had, because it didnt have language attached to it.

I could usually remember some attached details, but things like what exact year it happened in, where I was, who was with me, etc. ere all lost. because the memory existed more as something my body was keeping score of than something my brain was telling a story about, of that makes sense.

my therapist, who works with traumatized children from around 3-5, told me that this is how children process and remember trauma, and that they have a hard time forming a story around their memories the way we do when we're older, but they have the impression of them still.

one of the things that is so hard about these memories, is that a lot of people around me discount instincts and gut feelings. if I told my mom I experienced something because I had a "feeling" she would dismiss me until I admitted she was right. so I've never been able to trust these impressions of memory.

I've been pushing these memories down for *three years* since recovering the first one. I've been struggling with thinking I'm a massive liar and fraud because I couldnt remember things in a narrative way, and any attempt to establish a narrative felt wrong. and it turns out my brain was just functioning how it was supposed to and I thought it was messing with me for some reason.

#actually osdd #actually ptsd #actually dissociative #actually traumatized #ptsd #osddid #osdd #did #osdd 1b #osdd system #did system

[jjofalltrades]

Won't go into a big spiel about my burnout since the last two drafts ended up being more dramatically depressing than I cared to share. I almost went with a wildly Backstreet Boys gif to get the ball rolling, but I'll keep this newest update simple. So, let me just bullet point a list to get straight to the point. 1.) Diagnosed with extreme depression, anxiety, hypothyroidism, and ADHD with a new doctor who actually listened to me. Got myself nice and medicated to help fight off all this hormonal imbalance that was really screwing with me emotionally, mentally, and physically. 2.) My best friend and her dogs moved to my state. Even lived with us for a few months. As stressful as that change was, it's been a gift having her near me.

3.) I got hired at this amazing law firm contracted by the government. Not only does it pay better, but I love my co-workers. I'm intellectually challenged, which has done wonders for my confidence and social skills. 4.) My new daily routine allows me to wake up before the sun, eat a proper meal (3x a day), exercise, and sleep throughout the night. Which, who would have figured, has helped me lose some of the weight I'd gained during my darkest days as a stay-at-home-mom. 5.) Pushed myself to finally see a therapist who has helped me face some of the trauma I'd been packing away. 6.) I came out to my very conservative, religious, family. 7.) I planted my own garden! It's not much, mostly herbs, but I'm so damn proud of myself for reconnecting with the earth. It's led me down a more herbalist path. One, that has suddenly become a side business. I get to help heal people in more than one way and that's taught me a lot about who I want to be in the future. 8.) Lost my sister to cancer, recently. Which opened up wounds I hadn't wanted to acknowledge since I left my hometown. I had to face all that in the long car rides back there. Nothing shows you how much you've grown like stepping back into the past. 9.) The sudden death of one sister allowed me the opportunity to repair the relationship with our other sister. After admitting the awkwardness of showing affection, she voluntarily hugged me. Even told me she loved me. I don't think we ever did that before. We are planning a road trip soon with just each other, to build a new foundation of sisterhood. 10.) I came back to find a husband who faced his own reality about our marriage. How much he took for granted while I was away. He cooks, cleans, and is the primary parent who tends to all of our needs. We're celebrating our 10 year anniversary this weekend. 11.) I've always had a special relationship with my son, my first born. Unfortunately, I never got the same chance with my daughter. After she was born, I was left untreated with postpartum. I didn't think I'd get another chance to have the mother-daughter relationship I desperately wished for. But, as I've healed, we're closer. She wants to snuggle, play games, and run errands with me. We have a girls day where we spend the day doing whatever we feel like. I can't tell you how much I love her sweet kisses on the cheek and when she tells me she loves me. So, yeah, I dropped off the face of the earth. I would say I regret it, but I think it was necessary. I do plan to continue writing and completing my WIPs. I took the long road but here I am. Hello, again.

#jjclark #jjofalltrades #personal #update #depression #anxiety #adhd #trauma #healing #grief #death #family #writing #fanfiction

[raincamp]

08 18 2023

endings take forever sometimes.

i used to think of ending as one event. it happens and then its over. the end of a movie, the last minute before credits roll. the end of a relationship, the goodbye before never seeing each other again. the end of a life, the last breath before organs fail.

what i've learned recently is that endings creep up a long, long time before they make their move.

i've experienced several recently, what with me moving away from everything i've built here in the past 19 years. it seems to be a theme in my life right now.

i had my last session with Olivia, my favorite person, my therapist, yesterday. i needed some time to process it (and also sleep for like 11 hours) before i could journal about it. i still havent cried, but i want to so, so badly.

i think part of the issue is that i have already cried about it, i grieved it before it even happened. i felt it coming months before it did. and i cried believing everything was over. and i had to sit and wait for it to finally end, knowing that it was happening, and it was torturous.

i regret not preparing for the session more, though. there's so many things i wish i could've told her. sentiments like "you're so fucking good at your job and i want you to know that" and "you were the best thing that happened to me when i was sitting with the worst" and "i love you".

i had so many questions i wish i could've had time to ask her, about how she sees me, how she thinks i improved, what she hopes i work on in the future, whether or not she enjoyed working with me, whether or not she'll miss me.

and most of all i wanted to apologize. i just feel so much guilt and i have to carry it with me without getting to resolve it now. i did hurt her, i mean, i have BPD and i didn't hold anything back. i would manipulate situations to get desired outcomes, i would play games with her, say things so she would react how i wanted her to.

sure, its her job as my therapist to take it and not take it personally and turn it into a way to help me, but still, we had a relationship— a professional one albeit— but shit can still hurt. she has feelings.

she said i could email her once in a while, if something big happens in my life that i want to celebrate with her. so, at least she won't be completely dead to me.

i want to finish the therapy fic i was writing based on her so i can send it to her.

on another note, i also attended IFS therapy yesterday too, which is why i was so exhausted. it was my first time trying to communicate with my parts, and it was a really new experience. i found it immensely interesting though!

i predict its going to be difficult though. i as my self, dont trust this therapist fully yet so i know that there's going to be a lot of resistance from protectors. what am i saying? there already has been.

i discovered 3 parts today, i dont think im ready to talk about all of them here but one of them is a dissociating part that is essentially gatekeeping me from accessing anything, and refuses to step away once it shows up or explain its reasoning in any way.

its gonna be really challenging to work with it, since its entire job is to stop me from talking to other parts, and also since it wont talk to me, and also since ive spent all of my time pushing it away/exiling it (especially in therapy) because i fucking hate dissociating.

i hate endings but im going to have to end this now anyway. at least you've been prepared at least 5 paragraphs since. im still deciding.

- andrew

#actually bpd #bpd #im not mentally stable #actually mentally ill #borderline #bpd struggles #bpd stuff #mental illness #borderline personality disorder #tumblr diary

[meditating-dog-lover]

Body dysmorphia

Today I got groceries with my brother. It is scorching hot outside and I wore velvet pants and a winter coat.

My brother asked me why am I wearing a coat in the summer? I have body dysmorphia, so I don't wear nice-looking clothes and wear baggy clothes that look unflattering and out of season.

I don't know how to explain it to him. All I told him was that my brain is sick and his makes me not want to wear good clothes.I tried my best to simplify it for him.

I am uncomfortable in my physical attributes. My biggest insecurities are my teeth (I have brushed and flossed in the dark before so I don't have e to see them, and I avoid opening my mouth to look at the interior and chewing surfaces of my teeth) and my body (I refuse to look at my arms and when I get out of the shower I close my eyes so I don't accidentally look at myself in the mirror).

This is an awful way to live. Some triggers include gaining weight over the past few years due to being in a pandemic and emotionally eating often to cope with my pain. It also includes the poor quality care I got on my teeth where my dental team would focus a lot on treatment (too much of it too) instead of preventative care and a root cause diagnostic approach. I am prone to dental problems because of my vitamin D3 and magnesium deficiency. But this vicious cycle I've had at the dentist made me feel like a failure with bad teeth, which brought back bad memories of my experience as a teen with the dentist. This makes me feel ugly and unhealthy and I am desperate to switch to a new dentist (I saw a new one and am going to see another one to explore different options). The standard of preventative care I am receiving is so low and I've had too much stuff recommended to me, I feel fed up. I am seeing a 3 star dentist, and I would like to start seeing (ideally) a 4.5-5 star dentist(s). So overall, my teeth and body make me feel insecure to the point of developing body dysmorphia.

I'm working with my therapist too. But now I go every 2 weeks instead of every week.

Things will get better

[dzpenumbra]

5/5/23

I caught up on sleep. By that I mean... I only woke up 3 times, and was able to get back to sleep every time.

I did the old yoga video that I liked, the one focused on the psoas. It was good. I chilled for a bit and then went to therapy.

My therapist is chill as shit, I'm really glad to meet someone like him. I think our common-ground as nerds helps a lot in speaking the same language, and I guess having a bit more of an interest in taking an imaginative and narrative approach to things. Just a theory.

I've still been exhausted all day, I think it shows. I went right in and started going off about my neighbors and how fucked my sleep is... and how far back this all goes. And the only remedy I'm seeing being $300 noise cancelling earplugs, and how I just don't know what to do anymore... And... It took a really interesting turn. At one point, I mentioned that I was really... in a bit of an inner conflict. I've consistently had people shitting on me for being on this sleep schedule, the one I just magically keep ending up on. For like... over 15 years I've ended up in this schedule. And I told him that like... I'm starting to blame myself. Like I'm just being stubborn and bull-headed about this schedule and I won't just give it up and go to bed earlier. And the surprising part? He started telling me about like... human evolution - which, if you know anything about me, made my ears perk right the fuck up - and was talking about how naturally... we're very weak creatures, who rely entirely on our problem solving skills and social skills for survival. Numbers and strategy. And to provide food, there would be people hunting and gathering during the day. And to protect from predators, obviously there would be people to guard during the night. And... it just physically cannot be the same people, because sleep is not optional.

Point being - he thinks there could be a genetic component to it. And, at very least, it has always been important to have people awake during these hours - the hours I write this every night. In fact, now that I'm going over this, I remember my old landlords saying very candidly... when there were houses being robbed in my neighborhood... that they felt much more safe and reassured having me up and awake with the lights on all night long. My insomnia or nocturnal nature or whatever, made them feel safe. That really warmed my heart. Instead of plaguing me, making me miss appointments and social shit, depriving me of a social life, depriving me of opportunities... it actually did something good.

But like... my therapist was encouraging me to not beat myself up, because if I keep gravitating back to this... it's likely a somewhat natural component. And I agree, I am a huge supporter of not fighting my nature, instead finding a way to make it work for me. To make it functional. Like my panic shit, my anxieties. I don't want to run from them, or suppress them. I want to learn how to tame them, and work together with them. I want to give them a healthy seat at the table, teach them how to play nice. Sometimes he gets what I'm saying with that, sometimes he doesn't.

I mentioned weed, I finally did it. It was difficult. I have been candid with mental health professionals about this in the past and had it go horribly wrong, so... still a bit gunshy about it. But it went okay. He didn't seem to support me smoking to help with sleep, mostly because like... it might cause more harm than good with the anxiety/panic. I explained my whole thing with like... how I don't want to smoke, then go to sleep, then wake up still high and hear weird noises upstairs... and have my imagination turn that into weird paranoid shit. If you've ever had the phenomenon with weed where you like... you hear a knock on the door and are just convinced it's the cops or something? I guess some people get anxiety chest pains with it, and they convince themselves its a heart attack and go to the ER? Or like... weird shit like suddenly being scared you forgot how to breathe or something? That kinda freakout? I've been very prone to those, and I do not have good skills at diffusing that shit. My thoughts spin and I get stuck in those moments a lot, sometimes for hours, and it's a very vivid and visceral experience for me, very cinematic. So... basically... my primary concern has been that I am going to wake up and hear noises and get paranoid and freak out, and I don't want to experience that deep and visceral of an emotion because I feel like I lack the tools to diffuse it. That's what I tried to explain, but I don't think he fully got it, because we didn't really have a discussion about it. He just sorta said he didn't think it was the best idea. And considering this tends to be my most anxious season... I will lean towards agreeing with him. I think I'm going to test run getting high in a controlled environment first, very controlled. With tons of upbeat chill music and a nice comfy Minecraft world to chill in. Just in case.

I was trying to explain to him that I don't like the idea of being afraid... of being afraid. Being afraid of maybe freaking out. Because it's a blackhole of anxiety. It's fear of fear itself, that's a feedback loop. And that I really wanted to confront this. But yeah, I think he saw how tired I am, and how overwhelmed I am, and was like... "yeah, don't add more shit onto the pile". And I think he has a point.

What he did recommend... was contacting my doctor and looking into a sleep study. At least seeing if it was an option. Then maybe they can help me find the root of all of this. Sleep study has been on the to-do list with therapists and doctors... I'm not even exaggerating... for like close to a decade. And it's never gotten done. So I'm all for it. I just... hope it's affordable. And I have a feeling it won't be. But yeah, I don't know. If I'm going to spend my money on anything... this seems like a good thing.

I'm just gonna be honest here, I'm a bit pissed that I have to go get a bunch of medical tests done to figure out why I can't sleep when my loud-as-shit college-aged neighbors are making a bunch of noise 5 feet above my bed at 9AM, when I go to bed at 4-5AM. I feel like that's kind of a no-brainer... And I really do not want to piss money away just to have a doctor tell me that.

But an interesting point came up in my discussion that I wanted to bring up. I can fall asleep to music, and have for years. Years. I can fall asleep to VoDs of livestreams of people whose voice I recognize. In fact, my plan-B for sleep is to go downstairs, get in the comfy chair, put in the noise-cancelling AirPods and put on a playlist of YouTube videos that are essentially livestream VoDs. And that shit is literally right in my ears. So... if I can fall asleep to that, and stay asleep with that on... Why do I wake up when I hear creaking floorboards above me? Why do I wake up when I hear muffled belly laughs 6 feet away from me?

I think what's waking me up... are the sounds of living beings near me. I think I'm sensing human activity, and subconsciously waking myself up because of it. And I'm doing it... with fucking earplugs in. The way I would if I heard a door close really close to me, being alert and aware in order to keep myself safe.

Yep, the keyword popped into my head again because my therapist reminded me. Hyper-alertness. Hypervigilance. Even when I'm asleep. And that explains the freakouts, too. So... if I just felt more safe, and secure, and protected... less under threat... I'd think a lot of the day-to-day problems I have would start evaporating. Maybe that's why people act like they'd rather someone take their kid than their guns. Idk. I can't bring myself to be that kind of person.

Welp, that conversation opened some questions for me to work through. How can I reduce hypervigilance, by myself when I live alone, when sleep-deprivation and isolation make hypervigilance exponentially worse? How can I "safely" use THC to help fall into a deeper sleep like I used to, without needing to worry so much about the freakouts? Will a sleep study help me find underlying causes of my sleep problems, or just be a huge bill to confirm for me that I'm an isolated person who doesn't feel safe who has loud neighbors in an apartment building, who's trying to sleep while everyone else is awake? Is there a solution to this that isn't pharmaceuticals or $300 earplugs?

Find out at 11! (good lord, you know you're getting old when you make a cable TV news joke and suddenly go... "oh shit, will people even understand a nightly news reference anymore? With the internet and social media and all?")

Hey, here's some good news though. I started working on the hoodie. And by started, I mean... I got a big chunk of it done. I decided to just do the star clusters for each constellation of the zodiac. Not even visually connecting the stars in the constellation, just adding the dominant clusters of stars that make up the constellations. Then I made sure all the planet position markers were on there, for later reference. Then I started to paint the silver rings on the inside and outside of these voids that will be painted black with white stars. I was on the fence about that for a while. The whole thing is themed black, white and silver... do you do white stars? Or silver stars that actually have a glint to them? And it was a tough call, but I went with white. Mostly just to mirror a silver ring I have inside the centerpiece already. It just felt right, and I kinda just needed to make a decision. So... now... tomorrow I will have a lot to do, but all it really is is... finishing the outer silver ring, filling the black voids, painting the stars, then figuring out what's going on in the Houses. There are some lines from a prior design in there that.. got remodeled... and I want to paint over them... but I'm on the fence. Meh, I'll figure it out tomorrow.

I was holding off on that hoodie for a long time. It was intimidating. It's been well over a month since I've worked on it last, I'd bet. But the second I got my white colored pencil out and started working, I couldn't stop. In fact, I keep looking over at it going "I could just... do a little more on the silver. I could knock that out real quick..." And that's how all-nighters start. That's how 6-hour painting binges that end with hand cramps start. So... to honor the god of the evening - Sleep - I'm gonna go wind down and get myself in bed.

#diary #journal #online journal #stream of thoughts #stream of consciousness

[confessions-of-a-transgender-man]

My ed started when I was 10. It started around the time that my bipolar symptoms started, which at the time we thought were an exacerbation of my undiagnosed behavioural and mood disorder (which turned out to just be adhd, but in the 90s girls didn't have adhd). My therapist (who I had been seeing since the age of 5, when my adhd symptoms became rather severe) spoke to a psychiatrist and they arranged for me to start taking valium. 2mg at 8am, 12.15pm, and 4pm every single day. I hated it. And I hated the way I felt, especially how I couldn't control how I felt, so I started to see how long I could go without eating at a time. At first I could only go half a day. Then a full day. Then multiple days. I started to lose the "puppy fat" that I had began to gain. That made me feel good. I also liked coming up with new ways of hiding the fact that I wasn't eating. I managed to hide it from my therapist for 2 years, hiding behind excuses like "I've been doing loads of sports" and "I've just had a growth spurt" and "I've been sick for the past 2 weeks". When I was 12, my therapist started to catch on. She started weighing me at every appointment. She then told my mother to make sure that I was eating, and gave her some information about eating disorders. Mother didn't think it was serious and didn't monitor me too strictly, so I was still able to keep restricting. Then I passed out at school. And I got an ana diagnosis. I managed to keep the therapist from becoming too involved at this point, by gaining small amounts on the day of my appointments, by water loading, not pooping, and eating my omad right before my appointment. But I stayed at the same weight (within a 3kg range) for another year. And that is when I started getting really sick. The week before my 13th birthday was my final appointment with that therapist, and I began seeing a therapist who specialised in treating teens. Within 3 months of my 13th birthday, things started getting really scary. I can't remember how it started, but I remember realising one day that I hadn't slept in over 72hrs, and yet I didn't feel at all tired. And then I started hearing people calling my name when I was in public, but I'd look around and there would be nobody. Then I started hearing someone talking to me on the radio. I knew vaguely about CB radio, so I figured it was just someone I knew messing with the transmission. Until, I started seeing people out of the corner of my eye, when I was alone in my room. At first I'd only see a glimpse of them, but after a few days, they trusted me enough to show themselves fully. This absolutely terrified me. And then the person on the radio started telling me to hurt myself. They told me to get a box cutter and cut open my flesh. I ignored them for as long as possible, but after a couple of hours I gave in. The day after I gave in, I went to school with my cuts visible, looking like a mess (And this was a school with strict uniform and presentation rules), very obviously mentally unwell. I was sent to the school counsellors office, where an ambulance and my mother were called, and I was sent to the hospital. At the hospital, I was diagnosed with acute psychosis and placed in the adolescent psychiatric ward. I spent 3 months there, where I was diagnosed with Bipolar Type I and anorexia.

#ana stuff #anorex14 #tw ed diet #i need to be thin

[narcan-necromancer]

Jesus Christ I have the worst medication manager lmao. He's having me try out a new med for anxiety, but all it's done is make my vision blurry for like 30 mins after I take it, and make me physically unbalanced, paranoid and foggy. My memory is already terrible, but it's almost like I've had little blackouts that I can't remember at all. I can't think clearly.

Just for reference I have DIAGNOSED:

CPTSD, MDD, GAD and an on again off again diagnosis of a panic disorder and agoraphobia depending on how I'm doing mentally.

I have to pay this doctor $95 every single time that I talk to him/see him. He's had me make 4 appointments in the last month. I've been on welbutrin (not a controlled substance) 400mg for 5 years (and Wellbutrin for 10) and he refuses to write me refills and told me that my dosage doesn't exist until I showed him my Walgreens rx history. All of my other doctors in the past have just given me between 3-6 months worth of refills and this dude won't even give me one.

I've been on kpin on and off for years as well. I literally couldn't go to work last week because I was too afraid to go outside. The kpin is getting me through work and social environments while I work on my trauma therapy. Even my fucking therapist suggested it. But what do I get? No refills on any of my medications because he wants me to just give him $95 lmao. Like girl, I haven't been able to work (after my kpin ran out) how the fuck do you expect me to keep paying you like this every 2 weeks.

But I'll try this med until I see him just to give it a fair shot despite all of the negatives so far. I also don't want him to use that as an excuse to not listen to me.

I hate this. The med manager that I had for like 3 years was amazing and spoke directly with my therapist to figure out what needs would work best for me. I really need a new doctor.

#kira falls apart #goodbye memory #i woke up not remembering the night before and had to put it together like an ambien blackout #i really hate this #i hate that doctors that i spent years with figured out a good regimen for me but that he doesn't fucking care #and won't answer the phone when my therapist calls #tw #i have to be prescribed high doses because I'm basically a drug whale #like they observed me in mental hospitals and had to up certain meds because i have such a high tolerance to literally everything

[emptyperspectiv]

I kinda want to share thus post to Twitter eventually, but I just wanna vent for a second if that's cool. Please totally feel free to over look this post, you have no obligation to stick around and read this. No gags, no gimics at all. Genuinely, I'm okay with this not getting any attention.

There's a couple things I've been weirdly fixated on, well a few tbh it's more than 2 things. Just yesterday, our of the blue I rembered something thay happened when I flew out for my friends wedding in 2019. When I thought parts of my life were at what I considered a peak. It wasn't but looking back on that time, in ways I'm glad I don't speak to some of these people any more, and don't really have much regret about those decisions. What really stood out the most was the fact that a group of women who got together to celebrate a mutual friend getting hitched, and the night we spent before just talking.

I actually had my sexual experiences completely invalidated, and in a way it was really humiliating. We had been discussing kinks and some of the sexual experiences we've had were. There was I wanna say one gal in particular who really went out of her way to completely make me feel small by what she said. I felt like I was told that I wasn't bisexual enough for not having a 3 way, and for not fucking friends so therefore my experiences didn't matter. And the night continued that way, I completely shut down and I'm sure no one noticed or cared. This isn't some type of oh pitty me comment, but I'm sad that I tried wining validation from someone who I don't care about, and in the grand scheme of things doesn't matter. I am valid with the things I have experienced, and I don't need to prove it by bragging about being in a 3 way with a friend. Also funny considering she convinced said married friend she was bisexual, when she wasn't and once again I was invalidated when asked my opinion and my story. She was fed up with her husband and made a biphobic joke that she she just date women knowing I'm bi. I also welcomed any venting and trauma dumping as a therapist friend until I realized that it wasn't healthy for me or our friendship to be her personal therapist. Once I made it clear I was no longer going to be a personal therapist for martial issues because working was already stressful, things came to a stop all at once. There was nothing left to be said. That's also not a good friend, at least to me and not people I want to be around. I am not here to be made small so someone else can feel better about themselves. You can tear down someone else and make homophobic remarks to someone else, while pretending not to be. I don't have the energy to really care anymore.

Which actually brought me to something that was brought up in a discord server I'm in where someone's been asking daily questions, that I've loved. They asked about seeing 5 years in the future vs going back to a specific day in the past. I chose the future over the past. As much as I would love to go back and indulge in those good days, at least rhe ones that were good, I don't think I could. Not only would it being up a lot of past trauma and feel like a massive leap backwards, but I wanna know that what I'm working towards is worth all the stress I'm feeling now. Plus, going back to the past and having the ability to change things with foresight, as tempting as it is I wouldn't change anything. I know, I know it's kinda fucked up given some of what I've shared here. I've been put in a lot of not ideal situations, more than I'd like to admit but it's helped me be the person I am now. Trust me, there's a lot of my past self I don't like. For example the past me who didn't realize thag I was actually unkind to friends, who hurt people because I was hurt, who quite literally was a piece of shit to people because of what was going on in my own life. But I learned and grew from it. Just like with what I mentioned earlier.

Lastly, I've been thinking a lot about some of the dreams I've had. They've been pretty weird but also have made me think about things I do like about myself, which is hard for me to talk about because I'm overly hard on myself and don't really realize it until I say it out loud or type it. For example, I feel like I'm really empathetic but being so empathetic has caused my emotions to get the better of me in some cases (like work). I also feel that I don't work hard enough, and when I take time off work or call out sick that I'm being a burden to my job or that someone else needs the time more than I do, besides what would I do other than sit around in the house. So because I feel that I don't work hard enough, I burn myself out to get the smallest crumb of validation that I'm doing well and that my work is proud of me for being so passionate when what I am doing is for validation.

It's weird small things, but yeah. Anywaus. This was nice to just vent since I don't really vent to anyone because I would feel like a burden and an annoyance. But thus feels good. Thanks for just letting me have a space to vent.

[skellebonez]

Who Do I Go To? (Monkie Kid Fanfic)

I totally did not accidentally post this early before I edited it or added everything from my wip file... no... but anon, you gave me so much FREEDOM with this that I just went absolutely off the rails. This is not only set in a post S3 scenario where everyone survives and most of the villains have some kind of at least semi-redemption (except LBD, rip), this does feature a crackship or two of mine (you can read the tags to see the ships before you read)! Sun Wukong also has all of his immortality and some of his powers, I am writing this with the idea that he transferred most of them to MK and some of that was permanent once LBD was defeated and MK got his own back.

So... what if Sun Wukong did start communicating with the others in S3... but still has been bottling up his emotions about the past for so long he doesn’t feel he can talk to anyone because of their shared experiences? And what happens when that guilt and grief finally has someone willing to listen?

“What are you doing here, Si-SUN Wukong?” The Demon Bull King asked slowly, stumbling over his usual insult for the one once so close to him. They still weren’t close, and it was doubtful they would ever be as long as the sworn brothers they once were, but they were no longer at each other’s throats anymore.

That didn’t change how bizarre it was to see The Great Sage Equal To Heaven just... sitting outside his new home with no warning.

“DBK!” Wukong exclaimed, more startled than the larger demon was expecting as he jumped up and turned and if he didn’t look like he’d been hit with a truck metaphorically DBK didn’t know how to describe the way his fur stood on end and the redness in the other’s eyes. “I. UH. Was. Just stopping by to say hi!”

“No you weren’t,” DBK said, face falling into a deadpan glower. “You don’t do that. Even after 500 years I know you don’t.”

“I can start!” Wukong defended, crossing his arms and looking away with a wide teeth showing smile.

Too wide.

Even after everything that happened between them, from Red Boy to what happened when he needed his wife’s fan to sealing him in the mountain and everything that transpired with the Little Thief, he recognized that unhappy nervous smile.

“You can,” DBK said with a nod, gesturing to the smaller being. “You can also be here for a reason. Like what I heard you muttering to yourself behind the door.”

“And that’s my cue to leave!” The Monkey King announced as he turned to walk away before a large hand, with shocking gentleness for the one attached to it, wrapped around his shoulders.

“If you need to talk-”

“No, haha, I most certainly have no need for that!”

“-you know we’ve already made peace. I-”

“You don’t need to do anything,” Wukong insisted, struggling only a little before freeing himself from the other’s grip with an even wider nervous smile.

“-am willing to listen.”

“Don’t have to!”

“Are you at least talking to anyone?”

Neither of them said anything, The Demon Bull King staring down at The Monkey King with both frustrated annoyance and genuine concern in his expression.

The former he could deal with, but the later was so new again that...

Sun Wukong panicked.

“.... OKEY BYE!” He yelled, jumping and allowing his cloud to catch him and take him off.

"YOU CAN'T HIDE FROM YOUR FEELINGS FOREVER SUN WUKONG!"

"I HID FROM THE WORLD FOR 500 YEARS AND I TURNED OUT JUST FINE, I THINK I'LL MANAGE!"

“He turned out fine, he says,” Princess Iron Fan called from behind her husband as she emerged from their home. “So fine that it took him losing his invincibility and his successor nearly being killed for him to admit he needed help.”

DBK grunted, nodding in agreement at her words.

“He needs more, still, my dear. Even I can see that.”

“Let’s call in some reinforcements then, darling. I think there are two people who may be able to get through to him.”

~

Sun Wukong sat on the beach of Mount Huaguo’s island home, clearly trying not to think about what had just transpired.

“Hey.”

“How did you even know to look for me here?” Sun Wukong asked, not nearly as startled this time. He’d heard the footsteps coming for a long time, the other apparently wanting to make his presence known.

“Bull King called Pigsy’s asking for MK. MK called me since he’s working. I remembered where you like to sulk. Hence: I’m here.”

Wukong groaned, wrapping his arms around his knees and burying his face in them. “I shouldn’t have even left the house today.”

“But you left,” Macaque said with a shrug, watching the other stew in his frustration at himself. “And you went to see DBK... and I guess Princess Iron Fan too? But you ran off. Why?”

“I can’t check up on an old friend turned enemy turned less enemy to ‘not exactly friend but we’re not trying to kill each other’ without being questioned?” Wukong grumbled into his arms.

“Not when you make him sound as worried as he did when he talked to MK,” Macaque continued, voice becoming more tense. “You didn’t go to apologize or explain anything, I was there when all that went down. So... did you finally go to talk about everything e-”

“No.” The word was said with such coldness that Macaque knew it was put on. It wasn’t out of malice but something else, something more worried and fearful. “No. I can’t talk to him about... I told him everything that explained what happened. I apologized. I don’t need to talk more.”

"I don't understand why you're so opposed to to just talking about, you know... how you’re doing," Macaque said with a concerned frown. It almost felt odd on his face. Almost. He was still getting used to the whole "not being mortal eternal enemies and now being friends and kinda sorta caring about each other again" thing. "I know it's been centuries and all and you're out of practice but like... it's been centuries."

"I just... can't, Macaque," Wukong rebutted as he refused to lift his head from his arms. "I just can't."

"Why?"

"Don't."

The single word stayed in their air between them, heavy and hard and meaning more than the immortal would ever admit to.

"Come on, there has to be a reason," Macaque insisted as he sat down beside the other immortal. When no response came he sighed, tail flicking absently and flipping over some of the rocks on the beach as they sat in silence for few minutes. "You know... I started talking to someone."

"What?" Wukong turned his head, just enough to look at the other monkey from the corner of his eye.

“Sandy’s a good listener,” Macaque continued, falling back down to lay flat on his back and gaze up at the clouds. He remembered that Wukong felt better, sometimes, when you looked away when talked to. Didn’t know why, but he remembered. “Not exactly the kind of therapy he thinks I need, but he lends me his cats and he lets me talk and sometimes asks if I want advice. Sometimes I say yes, but when I say no he understands. Sometimes I just want to rant at that one little one eyed cat he has and she listened to... I think. She’s a cat so I wouldn’t know. He thinks I should see someone more experienced, an expert. Maybe he’s right, I dunno, but this helps enough for now.

“... who are you and what have you done with the Six-Eared Macaque?” Wukong asked with a soft glower, one that was clearly in jest from the tiny smile the other could see.

“Same Macaque,” the other said with a laugh, sitting back up with a theatrical flourish. “Just realized that talking to someone isn’t as dumb or useless as I made it out to be in my head. A lot of the stuff I thought about alone wasn’t exactly the best. Or healthiest. But now I can get that out there and sometimes it makes Sandy look like he ate a whole lime which probably means it’s good it’s not in my head anymore.”

“You ramble a lot,” Wukong said with a chuckle, tail swishing softly beside him before nudging against Macaque’s. He tensed before it slowly wrapped around the other’s. “It feels odd, having you try to cheer me up again after... everything.”

“Bad odd or good odd?”

“Good.”

“That’s.... good,” Macaque said, squeezing Wukong’s tail with his own. “Feels odd for me too. Like I’m out of practice too. But it’s good odd...” The two sat in silence for a moment, just enjoying each other’s company before he continued. “I do think you should talk to someone. Anyone.”

“I don’t know who, though. Every time I try I just... clam up and run away. I’ve put so much on MK already,” Wukong said, tail squeezing around Macaque’s loosely in return. “And Pigsy and Sandy... After all that came out, that Sandy is Sha Wujing and Pigsy is Zhu Bajie’s reincarnation... I just... I can’t talk to them either, even though Pigsy doesn’t remember anything at all. And you... DBK... everyone... who do I go to that knows enough about me to know what they’re in for but I won’t have those memories floating around in the back of my head toward making me run away?”

“Well, you could have Sandy help you get a therapist. Prepare them in advance. Or, if you’re not ready for that, you could talk to Tang?” Macaque suggested with a shrug. “He listens to me when I’m not talking to Sandy... but that’s probably because we’re dating, that’s what it is now instead of courting, right? So he kinda has to I think? Pigsy and MK talk to him too but with me I think it’s different.”

"I don't think that's how it works," Wukong said with a half hearted chuckle as he finally raised his head all the way. "Besides, I've known Tang longer."

"By like 3 months."

"3 months more is still enough to know that if he doesn't want to listen to you he won't. The man knows how to make a speedy exit."

"Guess that's one more thing that sets him apart from his great-great-great-great-great-whatever uncle," Macaque admitted with a shrug and a chuckle of his own. He squeezed his tail around Wukong's, smile softening when he felt it being returned.

“Feels... weird though,” Wukong said with a shrug. “The two of them looking so much alike.”

“Yeah, but that’s it,” Macaque rebutted. “He’s Tang Sanzang’s great-whatever nephew 5 times removed or whatever and he looks like him. Other than that? He knows pretty much all of your history. He’s mostly out of the hero worship zone but he still respects you a lot. Aside from everything that happened with LBD and MK you two have the least history out of everyone so maybe whatever’s in your head making you clam up might not stop you. And it couldn't hurt to try. It’s not therapy, it’s just talking about something that’s bothering you. Worst that can happen is you get nervous and fumble and he takes the opportunity to ask you 40 questions about the times you were almost incinerated by a baby."

"That was one time!"

~

“Uh,” Tang started, staring out the open door with wide eyes at the being before him. “Hi. I didn’t exactly expect to you see today.”

“I didn’t exactly expect to be here today,” Wukong said awkwardly, nervous smile taking over his face as his tone became far too jovial for what he was about to ask. “Macaque sent me to... talk to you. About me?” His smile drooped bit by bit as he said these words, slowly starting to lose his determination to go through with this. “Oh second thought, maybe I should-”

"No," Tang said, reaching out to put a hand on the immortal's shoulder. It was nothing, really, not to someone as strong as he was. Not when he could brush it off and walk away. Go home. Just sit on his couch and watch Monkey King The Animated Series again and just think about how no one deserved to be saddled with his problems anymore. But Wukong didn't. "Whatever it is, we’re going to talk about this now. I know I’m not trained like Sandy is, but I know how to listen. And if you need someone to listen to you, I can. You wouldn't have come here to talk if you didn't."

“... ok...” Sun Wukong said, letting Tang wrap his arm around his back and guide him inside his shared home with Pigsy and Macaque.

It was... odd. Being inside this place for the first time. He’d been outside of the door more than once, invited in as well. But never inside.

“Make yourself comfortable,” Tang said, stopping his guidance once they reached the sofa. “I’m no Sandy, but I was making myself some tea and it is a batch of his own anyway. I’ll grab us some snacks too.”

“Snacks would be great,” Wukong admitted, watching the other disappear into the house’s kitchen before he sighed and gripped his thrashing tail and muttered to himself. “What am I doing..? I shouldn’t put all this on Tang... I should have gone with Macaque’s first suggestion, I’m-”

“Do you prefer lychee or persimmon?” Tang asked suddenly, startling the immortal for the second time that day. “We’re out of peach bao, but MK’s been making them out of lots of fruits and we have so many that I was planning on eating them myself.”

The scholar returned, faster than expected, with a full tray in hand. Teapot, two tea cups, and a steamer box that presumably held the buns he was asking about.

“Uh... persimmon,” Wukong answered, and he watched as Tang poured each of them a cup of tea and removed some clearly fresh (or at least made some time earlier in the day and freshly steamed), pieces of fruit laden bao to put on a plate for his guest before taking a seat in a chair across from him. “You were... getting lunch?”

Tang shrugged, laughing as he took a bite of one of his own. “Just wanted a snack. But,” He smiled, gesturing to the Monkey King. “We’re not here to talk about snacks. What’s on your mind?”

“Awfully forward start.”

“I try to be forward with the people I consider my friends.”

“... You consider me... a friend?” Wukong asked slowly, turning the bao over in his hands. It was well made, perfect he would say. You’d think MK would have been making them all his life, not that he’d learned how to on the drone ship while on the run from an evil super demon bent on erasing his mentor from the world.

“After everything we went through, how could I not?” Tang said, putting his food down to sip his tea and then putting that down as well and looking at him seriously. “You’re here because it’s the anniversary of the day you sealed away the Demon Bull King, aren’t you?”

The bao in his hands wasn’t perfect anymore. Instead the red lychee inside dripped from his claws from where they punctured it in surprise.

“How did you-?”

“My specialty study is your history after all,” Tang said, smile returning with a sad tint. “I’ve known the date for years but I felt it was something to keep to myself. For some reason. Now with you and DBK back I think that was a good choice. It feels too personal to have out in the open for everyone to make a spectacle of.”

“Is it selfish of me to be thankful for that?” Wukong muttered, gently placing the bao on the plate to lick his claws clean.

“I don’t think so,” Tang answered.

“I feel selfish though,” he continued, not managing to take note of how Tang sat up straighter and turned more toward him. “I went to DBK’s to... I don’t know. I wanted to apologize again? But I already did and he accepted it and it feels selfish to want to again. Then I just. I froze.”

“Why?” Tang asked, scooting closer.

“It felt wrong.”

“Because you would make him feel awkward?”

“NO!” Wukong groaned, burying his face in his hands. “I just. I feel...” He took in a shaky breath, claws digging into his skin slightly.

“Don’t,” Tang’s voice came soft and closer than Wukong expected, as did the hands on his own slowly pulling his claws away from his face. “Don’t hurt yourself. And don’t bottle it up. I’ll listen to you. No matter what it is. It’s not selfish, feeling things isn’t selfish.”

“I miss it,” Wukong breathed out, shaky and choppy as his throat tightened as the words started to pour out of him. “I miss him. How things used to be between us and Iron Fan. I miss that I never got to meet Red Son when he was Red Boy. I miss Beng and Ba and Ma and Liu and how things used to be. I miss Zhu Bajie and Sha Wujing even though they’re here. I miss my Tang Sanzang. I’d been alone for 500 years and I missed so much and I did that to myself and it’s selfish to miss like that...”

He didn’t realize his cheeks were wet until his hands had been let go and one of Tang’s rubbed a cloth against them. Tang cupped his cheeks softly before wrapping his arms around him and tucking the Monkey King’s head into the space between his neck and shoulder.

“No... no it’s not. You’re allowed to miss things, Sun Wukong. Just like anyone else.”

Sun Wukong started to feel better.

He didn’t know why that was what did it, but the dam broke. It broke and his tears came pouring out as he hugged the man who reminded him so much of his Master. He didn’t know if anything he said in the mean time made any sense, if he was just blubbering and finally letting himself mourn what he’d lost and never had, but Tang didn’t ever chastise him. He let him weep and hold him and for the first time in years...

~

“Oh!” Princess Iron Fan startled as she opened the door to see who had knocked, finding herself face to face at sunset with one Great Sage. “You’ve returned.”

“Are you and DBK free?” Sun Wukong asked, smile no longer too wide. “I... kinda just wanna talk with you for a bit.”

“Well... I think that would be lovely.”

#monkie kid #lego monkie kid #fanfic #prompt fill #no ships #gen fic #hurt comfort #sun wukong #monkey king #six eared macaque #liu er mihou #dbk and pif #tang #technically tintedlenses is in here #and hinted freesquidinknoodles i had to add that in after THAT ART TODAY #but it's only a couple lines

[nakedmossy]

Cruel Summer - Part 1 [JJ x Reader]

[A/N: Hi again. I've missed you. It was time for something new. I found this story in a dream. Prepare for a mental trip, it's indicative of the year i've had. This is gonna go in a million different directions and I can't say i'm surprised. Ive written two chapters and i'm already like ...well, fuck it i'm posting it...I needed to get back into writing and this is what I got so enjoy. I have a playlist I used while writing, comment if you want it shared. As always, not that any of us need the reminder....but there will be adult content (whatever that means) and language and NSFW content so...keep me off your screen at the dinner table. Love y'all ...Mossy x]

You ease your car into park, your hand resting on the gear shift, the tires slowly rocking back and forth on the soft ground as the engine dies. Sunlight streams through your windshield as a cloud of dust and sand settles around the car, and you feel a trapped breath release from deep in your chest. The quiet, melodic hum of music relaxes your shoulders and through the trees you can see the water rhythmically hitting the shore.

You haven’t been here in a few weeks and you're starting to feel it; the tight and uncomfortable tensing in your muscles, the locked jaw, the flat expressions. The closer it gets to the anniversary the more you feel the need to visit. But the frequency of your visits is dictated by Her, and She keeps tabs on your whereabouts a lot these days. ‘Its not healthy to spend so much time there’ She would say to you, while pulling a Valium out of her bag to slide towards you. She has your therapist on speed dial on the landline. And she blames you for living in the past. Ironic.

You pull your keys out of the ignition, unbuckle your seatbelt, and let your muscle memory guide you out of the car and through the trees to the edge of the embankment where the sand and the sea grass take over. Flashes of Lacey running down the beach in front of you, looking back over her shoulder and laughing, are burned into your eyelids when you blink. She was everywhere here, every corner of this beach belonged to her. Her towel spread out on the sand at your feet, books with water damaged pages scattered across it, her bag tossed lazily to the side. Her board perched against the log you used to dry out your wetsuits. Her camera.

You close your eyes and listen to the wind move through the grass, her laugh echoing off the rocks. Come on! She would laugh with an outstretched arm. Come take a picture with me.

Her lips were supple and her nose was sun kissed, her hair bleached and tousled from the saltwater. She would motion for you to come over and you would go, because you always did, to fit into the frame next to her, cramming yourself in wherever you could after she found her best angle. She would hold up the camera and wrap her arm around you tightly, the smell of her tanning oil and sweat floating around you in a heady cloud, and at the last moment she would press her lips to your cheek and whisper cheese.

You blink and look at the water again, a seagull squawking as it flies over the empty beach. Reaching into your jeans pocket and feeling for the photo, you pull it out and look down, the moment she clicked the button frozen in time on the paper in your hand. Her side profile was radiant, the wind blowing her hair around her lips which were pressed to your face, you looked straight at the camera with a shy smile, a hidden smile, a quiet smile. An honest smile.

You run your thumb across the picture reflexively before sighing and putting the picture back in your pocket, it was one of the last photos you had together and it was one of the only ones you could clearly make out your own face. That always bothered you. Now you’ll never forget how happy we were today. I love you. She shook the polaroid until it was developed, then pressed it into your chest and winked, waiting for you to grab ahold of it, before turning on her heal and running towards the water.

Your chest burns for a moment before you straighten up and set your jaw. You feel good today, closer to her than usual. Today might be the day. You follow the path through the dunes towards the water and concentrate on the tide, watching the foam and the water snake along the shoreline. It’s windy, but not as windy as it usually is this time of day. The sky, clear and clean of any clouds, is the colour of blue that reminds you what happiness is. Or was, you know, before all the shit happened. When life was something you had the ability to process, sometimes even enjoy.

Now or never. Your head whips up at the sound of her voice and you see her, standing in the water. You feel the blood rush to your face, your core warming. There she is, running a hand up her stomach towards her chest and smiling at you, the kind of smile that would get good people into bad situations.

Slowly you slide your sneakers off and kick them aside, wiggling the sand between your toes. You’re not wearing a bikini but the beach is empty, so you close your eyes and listen to Lacey laughing from the water, come on scaredy cat, nobodies looking, as you peel your top off and drop it into the sand beside your shoes. You unbutton your shorts next and let them slide down your legs, stepping out of them hesitantly.

Lacey walks out of the water, so you keep your eyes closed, knowing if you open them she will be gone, and you wait for her to bite her lip and smile at you. There. Look at your body. You’re beautiful. Come on. She guides you towards the water with nothing but her own bare skin and confidence, nothing could ever touch her. You know its only a few steps until your feet are in the water, you should open your eyes and look around to make sure nobody is watching, but you don’t get to see her often anymore between the Valium and the other stuff, so you forgo it for a few more seconds. Today is the day, you have to do it. Time is running out. She’s all but told you as much.

“I miss you” You say, but your voice sounds foreign and it breaks and scatters into the wind.

Im right here. Lacey smiles at you like she always did, her crooked dimpled grin, her perfectly straight white teeth, her eyes shining. Now shut up and get in the water.

You feel the warm dry sand turn to wet firm sand beneath your feet, you know you’re close. It’s ours, all of it. The water. Just let go and let the Ocean carry you. You’re weightless. Isn’t it perfect?

Your breathing is shallow and your palms are clammy. There’s a tingling sensation in your thighs and you feel dizzy. You have to open your eyes. No, don’t. Not yet. Stay with me.

The water touches your toes and your eyes shoot open, you recoil and lose your footing, falling backwards. You crab crawl away from the water until the tide retreats and you feel your vision tunnelling as Lacey fades into the sunbeam above the water.

You scramble back to your clothes and pull your shorts above your sand stained underwear, your shirt smoothing your hair down as it settles back over your shoulders. You take a few deep breaths until your heart rate slows down. A tear springs up and sits in your eye for a few moments before falling and drying on your cheek. The beach is the best place to cry. The ocean is loud so nobody hears you, and the sun is hot so the tears dry fast.

You don’t want to turn around and look back at the water, you know she won’t be there. You’re alone, properly alone, just like she said you would be, psychic bitch. If she hadn’t been so charismatic and beautiful and conveniently wealthy, people would have outcasted her for being a freak a long time ago. What with all the tealeaves and palm readings and ‘gut feelings’. But they never did, her family had more money than the Kennedys and she looked like she walked runways for fun on the weekends, so she was untouchable. Your stomach starts to turn as you think about it so you blink the ground in front of you back into focus and start walking.

You have a few minutes of freedom left before She starts calling and asking where you are, so you walk slow to savour it. Who knows when you would be allowed out long enough again to go back.

You emerge from the tree cover into the parking area, pondering how many different routes you can take to get home to elongate the drive, when you hear a car door close. You look up, pulled from your thoughts, and squint to see through the bright sun.

“‘Scuse me!” A voice says, deep and friendly. A silhouette is moving towards you, so you bring your hand up to block the sun from your eyes. “Hey, sorry, do you live around here?”

You blink a few times as the silhouette gets closer and make out the figure of a tall man with wispy hair and baggy shorts.

“Sorry?” You reply, still trying to get a clear image.

“Im just trying to find the Marina but I have taken at least 5 of these side roads and all I keep finding is empty damn parking lots.” The man stops a few feet from you, close enough that you can make out a tan face with a toothy grin, and blonde hair. “First one with a pretty girl though, so I must be going the right way.” He smiles at you confidently, shielding his own eyes from the sun, but still squinting.

You look back over your shoulder to the beach, confirming Lacey is gone. You turn and look at the man who is watching you intently, hopefully, and smile quietly.

“Yeah, it’s uh…its just back on the main road, go 3 clicks south and take a right at the fork. You’ll see a fancy sign for a beach club, it’s just past that.” You look past him to the old Ford truck with rusted wheel wells and smile to yourself. “Assuming you’re not going to the beach club.”

The man laughs and smiles, looking over your shoulder at the beach before his eyes settle back on you. “Nope. Never been to one of those…legally.” He winks and backs up a few steps, then nods and says “Thanks” before turning and walking back towards his truck. He slows as he reaches it and stops, then turns back and pivots before jogging back to you.

You wait and watch, curious. He stops a few steps away and stretches out his hand.

“Sorry. That was rude of me. Im JJ.”

#jj maybank #jj x reader #rudy pankow #obx fanfiction #obxedit #nakedmossywrites #cruel summer

[ripeteeth]

If you want to do it! No pressure <3 When you get this you have to answer with 5 things you like about yourself, publicly. Then, send this ask to somebody else (non-negotiable, positivity is cool)✨💝

Oh damn, I'm so bad at these, but I'm trying to be better to myself so!

1. I'm pretty funny? I never write humor for some reason, but I'm a great shitposter and I've been told I have a dry, wicked sense of humor and penchant for awful puns. I never really thought I was funny until I was older, but that was only because my brother is hilarious and I will never have his timing. It's fucking peak.

2. My therapist recently told me that she was really proud of me for all the work I've been putting in. I like that about myself. I'm very earnestly interested in treating myself better and am actively trying to improve. Mostly this has been getting into therapy (and finally getting treated for OCD) and learning how to put up boundaries and process some shitty past trauma (and the age-old story of growing up with a narcissist parent).

3. I genuinely think that, if I were to really focus, I have some promise in writing and art. I'd like to keep working at it and improve. Sometimes I feel that I was a better writer a few years ago, but that probably has to do with the enthusiasm I had then and have misplaced. But it will come back. I've been on an art kick lately and that's kinda reminded me that I lost art for a long time, so writing will probably be the same way too and eventually find its way back from wherever it's wandered off to. I took some writing classes last year and think I might do that again, just to keep a hand in it.

4. I'm a good cook. I love cooking. It's one of the most rewarding and relaxing hobbies for me. I used to daydream about owning a bakery or cafe, but that's been long burnt out of me by years of culinary school and working as a line cook and later as a pastry chef. I know that I have NO desire to do it professionally, but I love cooking for friends and family and trying new recipes. Lately, I'm cooking a lot out of Fuschia Dunlop's The Land of Rice and Fish and exploring Romanian food.

5. Enthusiasm. It might be my trademark thing. When I get into something, I get into it and you will hear about it endlessly. I'm the opposite of a gatekeeper: I will Pied Piper about a fandom and drag everyone kicking and screaming in with me. When something hits the serotonin center of my brain, all I can do is froth about how much I love that thing and it's so much fun.

Thank you so much for sending this, @consistentsquash! You are the best!!!!!

#about teeth #and now for the local weather

[glitchkilldelphinixdj]

Mild Discourse: Of All the Things (Thesis of Anger)

Foreward: This is usually to point out discrepancies of what some things were called out to me by a different individual whose name shall not be stated upon this. This was nearly a month ago when this shit ass "barring" happened to me on three places on a famous app which I will never mention also. I had cried in frustration upon after this shit issue.

I will only mention what the discrepancies are, since I have been noticing after screenshotting of the reasons I saw, were either a bit correct at some parts or incorrect. I'm not gonna show the screenshot either since it's best to not get any criticism. I will point out my own truth in reaction to the statements seen in the screenshot privately. Each one quoted sentence is of the said problematic thing about me, and the paragraph is how I am actually answering and reacting to the said problem as honest and fair as possible.

1 "My family is on the spectrum and doesn't act like you."

That's one thing that infuriated me the most because I am a high func autie with ADHD, but each individual with autism with and/or without comorbidities has a different personality and family background, depending on where they're from. I came from a family who had a military background, specifically the Greek Navy from my dad, plus my maternal grandfather worked as a naval CB in Korea during the Cold War for the United States, prior to his death in Janurary 2019. This sometimes explain my rough, coarse, militaristic personality (henceforth why Heavenly/Monster Triangle Sciences exist and Hellspire Sciences exist, two different military factions) a bit. Plus, being in a rural community in the Southeast United States, there's not much opportunity to socialize in real life, so I pretty much veer to the Internet for socialization since there's not many local individuals who I trust.

2 "You are self-serving and arrogant"

The only times I get into self-reliance is when stuff goes into dire situations. The arrogance is from all the bullies I had encountered in the past in school times when I was a kid. I had tried to play nice with others at least and try to thicken the plot of the HTS and HSS factions during my times here, henceforth a little of the militaristic behavior I have involving order. I also pretty much had faked some of my happiness or empathy because I am trying not to put in any facade of sadness within. I somehow come up obnoxious and rude at times because I'm trying to be nice, but it goes the opposite direction of what is intended.

3 "You need to see a therapist."

Not when the 'Rona is around. The only last time I ever saw a therapist was in Georgetown of last year in Spring once over to see what I have: Autism with ADHD and some instances of paranoia. Only people who have very serious problems would usually seek therapeutic help and interventions to improve themselves and I am not one of those individuals. I've only been to speech and occupational therapy in school as a kid until I was 12, so don't assume things out of the blue that I haven't even been to a therapist. I've taken Adderall to relieve of my ADHD issues before in school, but it made my mentality so fucked up and losing my creativity, so post-school, I had to find ways to regain my creativity where I lost it in school. That's why I made a lot more OCs than what others usually made because my creativity levels amped up after I graduated from high school, away from the bad chaos, some of them were remakes of my old OCs I did in middle school (Jamine being one of my bare examples), but the Adderall overtook me of my creativity.

4 "Why would a couple of characters do self-harm on a budding f/f relationship?" (trigger warning)

Do you mean that budding m/m relationship of two different male characters, the self destructive behavior clinged by it involving with the use my two female OCs, Munphine and Jamine (pronounced Juh-mine, Jamie for short)? Listen here, I already had pretty much stopped that shit a few weeks prior to the barring and several weeks after the barring cos it was getting a bit too boring and a bit out of context, so that shit is quitted out. Both these characters had bits of dark backgrounds, pretty much involving both of their families (Jamie, involved with the death of her father and also her mother Ryuke being buried alive in a metal coffin, Munphine, whose parents whose faces were beautiful had shamed her for having an ugly facial appearance and kicked her from her town, so to cover her mouth from others to see, she uses bandages to cope that.), in general. Or do you mean the one involving my stable B8 Ghost Variant Yellow Missingno OC, Vesparada, and some other female character a few months ago? If it's already stopped weeks and/or months ago, it's already stopped. Period.

5 "You bragged about treatment of a physical problem I had."

What I was meant to say was that a medicine is suppose to help the problem, not actually treat it altogether, though with some side effects. It was an unintentionally misspoken statement, because my mind was in dire thought mode and accidentally typed too fast. I shouldn't have stated about a said medicine in the first place. I wished I thought and knew better about that. I'll leave that behind.

6 "You had guilt tripped in someone's place multiple times."

Most of the guilt tripping was unintentional at most because it's either me trying to come up with at least a statement/sentence and/or if it was a dire situation involving a decision. Some auties, like me, do have some problems making decisions, and at times, I unintentionally chose the wrong decision without thinking twice, though I do mostly think twice before I speak at some non-dire times. Sometimes I usually am impatient to my peers because I'm just excited over certain fun things coming up within my sight. I mostly never intentionally guilt tripped, lest if it's anyone I hate to be fair. I do have occasional preconditions that sometimes come in also.

7 "You had shrugged shoulders on a relationship with two different individuals."

This is me after being told at to stop and the mild shrugging of my shoulders is usually saying a way of, "Okay, I will stop digging into the nitty gritty of a certain relationship and let them do their thing." , as per se. By the words of ebony and ivory, that means I drop my guard of thought and accept it. It's been hard and rough for me to have at least a bit of attention during an RP story. I know that was nearly a couple months ago and it's best not to bring that up, since that is just an old thing. I'm a person whom does go by the cross a bit, being Greek Orthodox and all, but I'm trying my best not to scare anyone from advancing their creativity.

8 "You have been playing around with a victim."

Could you at least please elaborate this said victim and who it was? I didn't know I ever even played around with a victim nor I would recall it. It would be better for me to acknowledge who it is. I cannot fully understand certain things sometimes, lest if it's fully elaborated and stated to me. Who was this victim and how long? That's one thing that I am asking of.

Conclusion: Here on out, after the barring, I have been playing about in my garden, taking care of my own pets and whatnot to live my fullest life. It's been a bit of zen away of what happened. At least I am honestly covering what had been said and stated to me why have I been nixed from these places to others, and telling my actual side to what they had said with my utmost, undivided attention. I pretty much rest my case what I am telling my side of the actual allegations against me. There is no cover-ups or lies whatsoever of what had I said. I am literally straight-up speaking this in my own words. This ends the conclusion.

#discourse #angry thesis #Aries vs sagittarius #why did i write this #infuriation #callout #mild callout #potentially triggering #if you're toxic and you know it get off my land #the reckoning #a little bird told me #earth to doris #fuck it #fuck 2020 #i was raging #writing #Written by an actual autie and ADHD person #autism #mark my words #I wished to be forgiven not forsakened #of all fucking things #of all the things #Anger thesis #thesis #The banned pink lady speaks #The banned woman speaks #was venting for a moment #vent tw #vent post #vent blog

[sugoi--sushi-blog]

Here's the Tea🍵

Please read this till the end before you judge it!!

I came out as ftm transgender about 4-5 years ago.

I thought that me hating my body and hating how everything looked wrong, was dysphoria.

Ive been to therapists and counselors, but not for my dysphoria.

My parents and family treated me like shit.

When my friend Carter came out as trans, he was the first in our group. And I do in fact believe he is ftm transgender, he's a boy, I know it deeply in my heart and I trust him.

Shortly after Carter came out.

Ethan came out

At first he thought he was Genderfluid, cool whatever, ya know?

Then I related to their struggles of hating their bodies, I did some research (not much, mostly just going to Pinterest and looking at pictures of different identities and genders.

And I related to Agender/Non Binary

Now this was during when the whole gender thing wasn't blown out of proportion. Trans-trenders existed but weren't as commonly known as far as I could tell.

Shortly after, I struggled and believed I was incorrect about being NB, and thought I was a ftm trans male.

Then Ethan came out as ftm transgender.

Then his twin came out as non binary.

Fast forward 3 or 4 years.

We have a few more friends, we met at cons or pride. I was beginning to question myself more than the usual dysphoria.

Our friend Grey, who always has perfect makeup, never discussed dysphoria, nothing that could que you into them being anything other than a girl.

They always announced they were proud to be a girl and wore (so super cute) dresses and skirts (I'm legit jealous)

Now, this isn't me hating on my friend or anything. I still respect them.

But has anyone heard the new saying, "the gays gather", like we all group up?

Like its cool! Support team of people understanding.

But 98% of our group, wasn't cis, and out of 12+ people that's pretty crazy.

What I'm trying to say

Is that I think some people are romanticized, relating, or using being in the LGBT+ community as an escape.

Like a coping mechanism.

Wanna know why I think that?

Because I (and many others) had very very low confidence or other underlying problems, I related to those who came out and told their story.

How they felt.

What they went through as a child.

What they're going through now.

Etc

I dressed masculine, I went by Jeremy and then Holden

I used he/him pronouns

I have always had short hair and I've always thought "Since I've always been such a tom boy, this makes sense!"

It felt right

But it also felt wrong

I couldn't figure out why, I thought it was just my dysphoria talking.

It wasn't until the last few months of my senior year (I graduated this year, 2019) that I noticed I genuinely enjoyed dressing androgynously or just super cute in general

Baby blues, pastel ya know all that

I didn't mind when people called me they/them

I thought, hmm, maybe I'm non binary?

I let that sit for a while

Now I have a boyfriend I met about a month after graduating, and he respected my gender identity, because he's a good egg

Anyways, I told him about my possible doubts and that maybe it was just my dysphoria talking

It wasn't until I hurt myself by wearing my binder too long that he encouraged me to wear a sports bra during my work shift because I worked 'behind scenes' anyways and I have to wear cook clothes and it would be beneficial to my health. I finally bought a sports bra

I found one thats kinda concealing and almost had the same shape as a binder so I thought it was perfect

But that hurt me too

My ribs were bruised, my lungs aches, I was short of breath, etc etc

((Man I'm so sorry if you're reading this and you're just confused because I definitely didn't plan my life story out and uhhhhhh its all over the place))

He did some research and suggested I just take a week long break from my binder. I didn't have many hours scheduled at work, so it was a good time to just stay at home

After all that, I questioned myself more about my gender

I recently purchased a pink tutu cuz I thought it was cute

I wore that so often, just around my house

I thought I was so cute oh my goodness

I questioned more

My boyfriend brought up his Theory to me, his theory about how all my past abuse, neglect, and overall bad childhood, my lack of confidence, depression and anxiety, possibly played a role in why I believed I was trans

He was terrified to tell me, he thought I would get pissed at him and break up with him

But everything he told me

Was exactly how I felt and completely accurate.

He wasn't pressuring me to change or anything, but I took what he said as motivation to experiment and figure out who I am

A few months later I can confidently say that I am a woman, and all I needed was confidence and support

Now, I've gained so much confidence through my experimenting

I feel so good, and beautiful

It feels so nice (((:

A few days ago, a video popped up on my boyfriends YouTube, it said "Hundreds of Transgender People Trying to Return to Birth Gender" (or something similar)

We watched the video (which was just a dude reading the article)

There are 'ex-trans' people trying to save money to detransition.

Their mental health and physical health problems led them to believe they were transgender

I believe people are being romanticized into believing they are part of the LGBT+ community

Cis people saying "only women can do that" or "since you like to do (masculine thing) you must be trans!", is very hurtful!!

My name is Genevieve, and welcome to my Ted Talk

Please message me your thoughts!!!!

#trans #transisbeautiful #transgender #gender roles #gender dysphoria #gender stuff #lgbtq #lgbtqipa #lgbt #lgbtpeople #gayboy #gaylife #gay #gaylove #transgirl #transboy #nonbinary #non binary #agender #boy #girl #ted talks #spilled thoughts #thoughts #opinions #respond please #long reads #read #oops #someone help

[maladaptive-dreamer]

I'm at my wits end with therapy. I've seen multiple people who don't take my daydreams seriously. Despite my best efforts, with the therapists I've spoken to in the past, I don't know how to communicate how significant of an impact the MaDD has had on my life, and how much I genuinely love it while simultaneously desperately DESPERATELY needing to be able to control it. Any suggestions for finding a therapist who might actually help? Thanks

1. Make sure you’re really ready for therapy.

This one seems sort of straightforward. Everyone wants to get better, don’t they? Except...some people don’t. I’m not saying it’s a bad thing - everyone’s end goal should be improvement, but some people are so deep in their disorder that they need to admit to themselves that they need help before they actually start looking for help. Make sure that you know what you want from therapy, that you understand what sorts of steps are going to be taken - and, of course, that you’re in a place where you can afford it, money and time-wise.

2. Don’t go into therapy discouraged.

That'll be really hard because of how many people you’ve seen, but don’t give up! It’s sort of like dating - some people have the insanely good luck of finding their perfect match first try, but for most people, it takes a few pairings before they find a fit. The same rule applies to therapy. Try to keep a really open mind and give your new therapist the benefit of the doubt! At the very least, tell your therapist that you’ve been discouraged from therapy (see item 4).

3. Identify patterns of failure.

How have your conversations with past therapists gone? Where did you feel like they stopped listening or understanding you? Have you always approached telling them about MaDD in the same way? At the same time? Trying to figure out a pattern can be useful in then changing said pattern. Try to approach the conversation in a different way (see item 5 for a pretty foolproof idea).

Also, why did you stop seeing your past therapists? Really think about your feelings - were they founded in proof or were you really just not ready for therapy? Not a personal attack, just something that I’ve noticed within myself - I tend to make assumptions about my therapist before sitting back and realizing I’m trying to mind-read (a cognitive distortion)!

4. Explain right away how difficult this is for you.

Be very transparent with the fact that you felt like your former therapists didn’t listen to you or believe you - whatever you felt like the situation was, share it with your new therapist. Explain why therapy is difficult for you and how you have a difficult time putting things into words. This will create a deeper understanding as to why you might find it difficult discussing certain things.

5. Put your feelings into words.

I don’t care if you’re not a natural writer or hate writing. Write down exactly what you want to say. This will give you as long as you need to put what you need to down into the words you need. You’ll be able to think of specific wording and everything! Include common questions that people have about MaDD and, if you’re really nervous about not being believed, there are several credible news sources that have reported on MaDD. Just Google articles for evidence! Finally, write down exactly what you want to happen with your MaDD. Do you want to get rid of it entirely? Cut back? With something less common like this, therapists won’t know what the end goal is, whereas there are pretty clearly understood goals for other mental disorders like anxiety and depression. If you don’t know what you want to happen with your MaDD, maybe say that you want help focusing or something like that so that it gives you and the therapist something to work on while you try to understand yourself a little more. If you use words like addicted, the therapist might then understand the whole love-hate relationship you have with it, as well as how difficult talking about it is for you.

6. Understand how much work therapy is.

I’m not accusing you of not understanding therapy or anything ridiculous like that. I just know that for me personally, when I went into therapy, I was expecting to be told exactly how to be happy, or that I would be happy once I told someone what was wrong with me. Not the case at all. I’ve been in therapy for three years and been through a couple therapists in that time, and only now am I really realizing how much work - inside and outside of sessions - must be put into recovery. This will be an uphill battle and at times it will feel like everything will be working against you - but you have to fight past this and keep going so you have a happier future overall!

*

I really hope your future in therapy goes well. Again, it can be easy to get discouraged, but someday you’re going to find an awesome therapist - and your life is going to be changed!

#ask #daydreaming help

[fishthegenderwitch-lurking]

Uuupdate

The medical field is full of wax maggots (I actually typed wackadoos, but autocorrect is a gem). I finally went for my eval for adhd meds, and the psychiatrist fixated on some shit from my past, starting 30 years and nothing more recent than 5 years ago, cut me off after hearing exactly what he wanted to hear from any response to the Extremely Leading questions he posed, and then proclaimed that I have bipolar disorder and prescribed me anti psychotic schizophrenia meds.

Um. What. Literally zero people who actually know me could make sense of this business, least of all myself, who has been constantly examining and analyzing my own behaviors for a decade, and trying to improve who I am as a functioning adult, despite the overwhelming laundry list of autism spectrum & adhd symptoms I manifest on the regular.

There's no way I'm going to fill in a monthly mood chart (lmao what) OR put those drugs in my body, solely on the overt pretentious word of someone who seems to be, as my friend and coworker called him, the physical incarnation of the patriarchy.

Once I mentioned the name of the psychiatrist I'd seen at the hospital, a coworker immediately broke in with, "Oh shit you just had to say his name; that guy's an utter Knob!"

They absolutely fixated on something that wasn't ADHD, despite me saying to the initial doctor that my counselor believes I have it and even recommended a specific medication to help, because, and I quote, "The doctor believes that too many people have already been diagnosed with adult ADHD and he doesn't want to contribute to that. " That's not your call! You're job is not to avoid examining the data just because you don't believe in it; your job is to see if the recommendation of the previous medical professional who's been in direct contact with me for 3 years is correct and try to help them help me.

It was the most frustrating 45 minutes of my entire life, being asked to speculate on my entire family's medical history, when I don't know any of them. Answering questions that had no relevance to my current struggles with finding solutions to what I've been going through. When I asked when we would get to the point of why I was even at the hospital to talk to them I was told, "We'll get around to that," and then we never got around to that.

Turns out, the clinic doctor that wrote my urgent care referral did NOT EVEN INDICATE MY THERAPIST'S RECOMMENDATION. There was no indication of a mental health issue beyond "depression, anxiety, and PTSD, " all of which I have, but the psychiatrist kept trying to make me tell him that I would go on manic highs and spend money by gambling, "and then backtrack? You'd backtrack or get the money back? Right?" I've literally never gambled. He'd pressure me to tell him about my sexual "escapades" while on these "highs", murmuring a disclaimer that he was not a voyeur, he just wanted to help me because this behavior will escalate and it'll become very dangerous for me to be left alone. Um.. I'm asexual. He literally didn't want to listen to anything I had to say that didn't fit his narrow line.

I'm pretty pissed off still, because he fed this whole scenario from the most random flotsam of my life into a narrative he'd decided before entering the room, and left me zero room to actually talk about why I was there, not to mention all the traumatic bullshit they triggered by asking me about every bit of grief or trauma I could remember.

I'm seeing my counselor on Wed and you're Damn sure I'm talking about this to her.

#mental health #trauma #misdiagnosis #bullshit psych #self important putz #stress #adhd #failure #time for another opinion #i see this one as the first troll to conquer in my quest for functionality