#i didn't take the antipsychotics today
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hi i just saw some of ur posts on anti-psychiatry and then kept reading more on ur blog about what it is. for the most part i agree with what you've said about how capitalism uses psychiatry to designate people who are bad/abnormal and how it aligns itself w/ misogyny, racism, and so on. with that said i think i have some similar concerns/questions as another asker about what this means for those who do/would suffer even in a non-capitalist society, even if we didn't ascribe a specific label to X symptoms. if we are opposed to psychiatry, what are the options for people today who are suffering and want help? are you opposed to psychopharmaceuticals and therapy? i dont mean to ask this in a confrontational/accusatory way, i'm just new to this and genuinely curious
There are a few different parts to your question & so there are a few different angles to approach it from—
are you opposed to psychopharmaceuticals and therapy?
If this means "are anti-psych writers and activists opposed to individuals seeking treatment that they personally find helpful," then, no—a couple posts in my psychiatry tag do clarify this.
If it means "are there anti-psych critiques of psychopharmaceuticals and therapy," then, yes. Keep in mind that I'm not a neurobiologist or otherwise an expert on medications marketed as treatments for mental illnesses, but:
The evidence for the effectiveness of SSRIs in particular is sort of non-existent—even many psychiatrists who promote the biomedical model of mental illness doubt their efficacy, and refer to the "chemical imbalance" theory that enforces their usage as "an outmoded way of thinking" or "a kind of urban legend—never a theory seriously propounded by well-informed psychiatrists." But promoting SSRIs (and corresponding "serotonin deficiency" theory of depression, despite the fact that no solid evidence links depression to low serotonin) is very profitable for pharmaceutical companies. Despite the fact that direct-to-consumer advertisements are nominally regulated in the U.S., the FDA doesn't challenge these claims.
Other psychotropic drugs, such as "antipsychotics" or "antianxiety" medication, shouldn't really be called e.g. "antipsychotics" as if they specifically targeted the biological source of psychosis. No biological cause of any specific psychiatric diagnosis has been found (p. 851, section 5.1). In fact, rather than "act[ing] against neurochemical substrates of disorders or symptoms," these medications "produc[e] altered, drug induced states"—but despite the fact that they "produce global alterations in brain functioning," they are marketed as if they had "specific efficacy in reducing psychotic symptoms." Reactions to these medications that don't have to do with psychosis or anxiety (blunted affect, akathisia) are dismissed as "side effects," as though they don't arise from the same global alteration in brain function that produces the "desirable" antianxiety/antipsychotic effect. This doesn't mean "psychiatric medication turns you into a zombie so you shouldn't take it"—it means that these medications should be marketed honestly, as things that alter brain function as a whole, rather than marketed as if they target specific symptoms in a way that they cannot do, in accordance with a biomedical model of mental illness the accuracy of which has never been substantiated.
Psychiatrised people also point out that meds are used as a tool for furthering and maintaining psychiatrists' control: meds that patients are hesitant about or do not want are pushed on them, while patients who desire medication are "drug-seeking" or trying to take on the role of clinician or something and will routinely be denied care. Psychiatrised people who refuse medications are "noncompliant" and prone to psychiatric incarceration, re-incarceration, or continued/lengthened incarceration.
As for therapy: there are critiques of certain therapies (e.g. CBT, DBT) as unhelpful, status-quo-enforcing, forcing compliance, retraumatising &c. There are also critiques of therapy as representing a capitalist outsourcing of emotional closeness and emotional work away from community systems that people largely don't have in place; therapy as existing within a psychiatric system that constrains how therapists, however well-intentioned, are able to behave (e.g. mandatory reporting laws); psychotherapy forced on psychiatrised people as a matter of state control; therapists as being in a dangerous amount of power over psychiatrised people and being hailed as neutral despite the fact that their emotions and politics can and do get in the way of them being helpful. The wealth divide in terms of access to therapy is also commonly talked about; insurance (in the U.S.) or the NHS (in England) may only pay for pre-formulated group workbook types of therapy such as DBT, while more long-form, free-form, relationship-focused talk therapy may only be accessible to those who can pay 100-something an hour for it.
None of these critiques make it unethical or something for someone to get treatment that they find helpful. It's also worth noting that some of these critiques may be coming from "anti-psych" people who criticise the sources of psychiatric power, and some of them may come from people who think of themselves as advocating for reform of some of the most egregious effects of psychiatric power.
if we are opposed to psychiatry, what are the options for people today who are suffering and want help?
This looks like a few different things at a few different levels. At its most narrow and individual, it involves opting out of and resisting calls for psychiatrisation and involuntary institutionalisation of individuals—not calling the cops on people who are acting strange in public, breaking mandatory reporting laws and guidelines where we think them likely to cause harm. It involves sharing information—information about antipsychiatry critiques of psychiatric institutions, advice about how to manage therapists' and psychiatrists' egos, advice about which psychiatrists to avoid—so that people do not blame themselves if they find their encounters with psychiatry unhelpful or traumatising.
At the most broad, it's the same question as the question of how to build dual power and resist the power of capitalism writ large—building communal structures that present meaningful alternatives to psychiatry as an institution. I think there's much to be learned here from prison abolitionists and from popular movements that seek to protect people from deportation. You might also look into R. D. Laing's Kingsley Hall experiment.
what does this mean for those who would suffer even in a non-capitalist society, even if we didn't ascribe a specific label to X symptoms?
It means that people need access to honest, reliable information about what psychotropic medications do, and the right to chuse whether or not to take these medications without the threat of a psychiatrist pulling a lever that immediately restricts or removes their autonomy. It means that people need to be connected to each other in communities with planned, free resources that ensure that everyone, including severely disabled people whom no one particularly likes as individuals, has access to basic resources. It means that people need to be free to make their own choices regarding their minds and their health, even if other people may view those decisions as disastrous. There is simply no defensible way to revoke people's basic autonomy on the basis of "mental illness" (here I'm not talking about e.g. prison abolitionist rehabilitative justice types of things, which must restrict autonomy to be effective).
Also, I've mostly left the idea of who this would actually be untouched, since my central argument ("psychiatry as it currently exists is part of the biomedical arm of capitalism and the state, and the epistemologies it produces and employs and the power it exerts are thus in the service of capitalism and the state") doesn't really rest on delineating who would and wouldn't suffer from whatever mental differences they have regardless of what society they're in. But it's worth mentioning that the category of "people who are going to suffer (to whatever degree) no matter what" may be narrower than some would think—psychosis, for instance, is sometimes experienced very differently by people in societies that don't stigmatise it. I see people objecting to (their interpretations of) antipsych arguments with things along the lines of "well maybe depression and anxiety are caused by capitalism, but I'm schizophrenic so this doesn't apply to me"—as though hallucinations are perforce more physically "real," more "biological," more "extra-cultural" in nature than something like depression. But the point is that positing a specific neurobiological etiology for any psychiatric diagnosis is unsubstantiated, and that capitalist society affects how every "mental illness" is read and experienced (though no one is arguing that e.g. hallucinations wouldn't always exist in some form).
#psychiatry#long post /#mental illness#antipsych#antipsychiatry#Anonymous#questions#psychotropic drugs#ssris
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8 makes 1 team
No matter how different, without one of us there is no 8 makes 1 Team
Synopsis : In which 8 boys build a friendship despise of their differences with the help of a psychiatrist
Pairing : psychiatrist! Reader x Ateez (for now )
Warnings : this chapter includes mentions of , abuse towards hongjoong , crying , harsh insults , slight bonding time , minor panic attack, Slight violence, yelling , mentioning’s of suicide, San and Yeosang arguing, please tell me if I forget something , and I’m not romanticizing disorders in anyway and this is pure fiction meaning this doesn’t represent Ateez in any type of way
For every new chapter I’ll place this (🟢) beside it in the masterlist so you guys know that the chapter is new and was posted recently
Tag list : @veneziamadness , @hcyaa , @sadcoffeecritic , @aapplepii , @lavishloving , @dogsongy , @acciocriativity , @k33vad3la , @seonghwifey , @hanjihyun23 , @yunhoswrld123 , @cqndiedcherries ,
Also if you want to be added to the tagging list for the next chapter comment so I can add you
Word count: 2,5k
She had put the bottles away to dry after bringing the boys to the recess room , everyone in individual rooms because she couldn't have them together for now after just meeting once
And the breakfast room was cleaned and everything was replaced
Y/n went out and locked the door before making her way towards Hongjoong's room
The guard looked irritated as he stood in front of the door doing his morning shift
" Did he sleep well ? "
" That kid has been screaming for the past hour and throwing a tantrum "
She frowned and looked inside the room seeing the boy on his bed playing with the sheets
" What did you do to him ? "
" I set him straight, I don't get paid enough for this anyways "
She chuckled and went closer to the guard and patted his chest while reading his name tag
" Do you have kids ? "
" Yeah I do "
Y/n went closer to his face and pushed his forehead back forcefully
" Do you also hit them ? like you hit other peoples children come on tell me "
" N-No ma'am "
The guard started shaking from the fierce stare she gave him
" Don't you think your being a hypocrite? "
" I-I-I I'm sorry forgive me "
He rubbed his hands together in a pleading way as he looked down
" Why should I take you seriously if your not even looking at me "
She scoffed and grabbed his chin to look at her
" Just so you know I don't treat people this way but since you put your hands on a child that didn't hurt you in anyway you should experience the same mistreatment, and let this be the last time I see you or hear you've done something to any of the patients here I'll have you fired without further words being spoken "
The guard nodded and kept his head down as she went inside the room
" Good morning Hongjoong "
She approached the boy and kneeled down in front of him
" Y/n y-you came "
He teared up and hugged her
" I know Joongie , I promise you he won't put his hands on you again "
The boy sobbed on her shoulder and pinched her clothes
" We are gonna have breakfast today with our other friends "
" F-Friends? Hongjoong has no friends "
" I'm also your friend don't worry "
She caressed his head and rubbed his back
" I brought something for you so we can keep the bad away "
She opened his antipsychotic meds and held it out to him
" Really? "
" Yes , we want them to leave you alone right ?"
He nodded and gulped it down with a cup of water
" We are gonna start taking these everyday so we can see if it really helps "
He stared at her and smiled before standing up
" Breakfast time ! "
" Yes but before that we will go and pick up someone else to join us "
She smiled and extended her hand to which he grabbed immediately
" Hongjoong is meeting his friends? "
" Yes , We will meet the other boys for breakfast "
" Ahhh "
She locked his room and saw that another guard stood in front of his door
"I'm the new guard assigned to him they switched the other guard since he asked I don't know why he would but well here we are "
He smiled brightly unlike the other guards and genuinely seemed exited
" You seem strangely exited to work today "
She looked at him carefully as he scratched the back of his head nervously
" It was really hard to get this job , and I've been training for this too "
" Really? your devoting your youth to these children here are you sure "
He chuckled and smiled at Hongjoong that stared at him with a tedious facial expression
" I also had a brother that worked here but he was moved to one of the calmer area's and I was really amazed by this job so I decided to try this and I also love kids "
" Well please treat them well and I wish you luck from now on "
She smiled at him and walked away with Hongjoong who looked back at the young guard that waved at him sweetly
" Looks like our next friend is asleep still "
She looked inside and checked in with Hongjoong trailing behind her
" We need to be quiet ok ? "
" No need I was already awake "
San rose up and Hongjoong screamed loudly scared holding onto Y/n's back
" Hongjoong what happened? "
" I know I probably look scary because of my eye bags but I'm not I promise "
He yawned and stood up walking towards his sink sloppily
" How do you feel San ? and this is Hongjoong one of the boys in your group for breakfast "
" I feel like shit not gonna lie , and nice to see who I'll see everyday at breakfast "
The boy groaned tiredly as he grabbed his brush and started brushing his teeth
" I have something for you , since the meds you had before where not working "
She waved his antidepressants in the air
" W-Why does he have a sad look on his face "
Hongjoong looked at Y/n and played with the hem of his pajamas
" Well buddy I don't actually wanna be here I wish I'd been never born to begin with "
San replied and brushed his black hair with mint green strands back so he looked neat
" Why are you still here ? "
The elder stared at San who just chuckled
" I wish I'd known a answer to that "
" One day you'll get to know why San "
She opened the door and waited for him to follow both her and Hongjoong who kept staring at things
" How many people are we ? "
"Without counting me it's just four of you guys"
San hummed and continued walking as he watched Hongjoong try and pull off his bandage
" Your not supposed to take that off , it's there for a reason so don't take it off "
Hongjoong let go of his wrist after he was stopped and nodded
" Well looks like he is already awake and waiting "
She looked inside Yunho's room and saw that the boy looked like he was about to cry so she rushed inside
" Hey Yunho what's the matter ? "
" Duri send me away and tore up my apology letter we are no more friends "
His lips quivered and he bursted out crying
" That's ok if he doesn't want to be friends with you anymore, you will be friends with San and Hongjoong for sure "
" Honestly that is a terrible thing anyone could have ever done to someone that's supposed to be their friend so don't feel bad that person just didn't deserve you "
" Joongie your friend now "
Hongjoong smiled and hugged Y/n jumping up and down making her chuckle and San smile genuinely for the first time that week
" See you just gained a friend "
" But he wont hurt me right ? "
" He will not hurt you Hongjoong don't worry "
Yunho looked at them and wiped his tears with a tiny smile before screaming breakfast making Hongjoong cover his ears as the other two chuckled
" Yes Yunho we will have breakfast as soon as we pick up our next friend "
She held Hongjoong's hand as they all went out
" Who is the eldest here ? "
" Hongjoong is sixteen and San is fifteen "
" I'm also fifteen "
The boy smiled and held his hand out to San for a high five which was returned immediately
" What did you guys pick for breakfast? "
" I took Chocolate cereal "
" I took Apple jam ! It's so tasty on bread "
Hongjoong wasn't really trying to interact into the conversation he was busy playing with
Y/n's ring on her finger
" Your hair looks cool I like it can I touch?"
Yunho looked at San's hair amazed which made the younger smile and lower his head
" You know I want to sign up for the salon they will dye our hair again "
" Really? What color would you pick? "
" I always wanted to try having Black hair with red strands of hair ! "
" That's what I was actually going for "
Yunho gasped and clapped his hands
"Can we match please ? That would be so cool "
" Sure just sign me beside your name and than we can go together "
They all came to an stop in front on the door before Y/n checked in warning them that the next one tended to be a little mean
" Good Morning Yeosang I see you dyed your hair a new color your blonde now "
Y/n smiled at the boy that had a scowl on his face
" Who are they and why are they in here ? "
He stood up and fixed his shirt rolling his eyes
" This is the group you'll be having breakfast with from now on and lunch plus dinner "
" Hello I'm Yunho ! "
" I'm San and that's Hongjoong "
Yeosang furrowed his eyebrows and stared at Yunho
" Did you already had a circus for breakfast? Your so loud like shut up "
Yunho scratched the back of his head and apologized
" I'm happy because me and San are going to match hair colors! "
He couldn't help but get loud again
" Ok and ? Just be quiet your making me regret waking up again "
" Let him be happy "
San rubbed his eyes and looked at Yeosang with a unimpressed expression
" I wasn't talking to you , you crackie looking moldy hair boy "
" Yeosang please remember what I told you "
The boy scoffed and walked towards the door
" That's the most lamest insult I have ever had directed towards me and I've been called worse by better people "
San snorted and looked at Yeosang unbothered
" Your so funny "
The blonde scoffed and turned towards Y/n with a painful smile
" Can we go eat ? I'm trying to control myself from destroying this boys whole live "
" Yeosang we will have breakfast now and please both of you stop with the insults "
Yunho looked at San and patted his back
" Your so mean "
"And I'm jealous of all the people who haven't met you what a privilege "
" Yeosang I said stop "
She looked at him before unlocking the door and letting everyone inside the breakfast room
" Woah look there is all types of cereal "
Hongjoong gasped and ran towards it
" Well you may all sit beside anyone you want to sit with and than you can start having breakfast "
She went closer to Yeosang and nodded at him as she saw the boy hesitate to sit and get himself something to eat
" San I'll give you these before you eat ok ? "
He filled himself a cup of water and took the antidepressants out of her hands before gulping everything down
"Aww the big mouth is a depressed cry baby "
San eyed him and decided not to respond for Y/n's sake and started to talk to Yunho who was heads over heals for the amount of delicious food there was
" Don't be offended I'm not insulting you I'm just describing you "
" You are clearly bored in life "
" Sounds so rich coming from the one who tried so many times to end his lif- "
Everything went silent and watched Yeosang close his eyes in disbelief as he was soaking wet
" Hongjoong , don't do that "
Y/n widened her eyes and grabbed tissues to started wiping Yeosang's face who pushed her off and grabbed the elder by his collar
" You fucking freak what is your problem! "
He yelled at Hongjoong and shook the boy
"Stop bein-ng mean t-to Hongjoong's friends! "
The elder yelled back and pushed Yeosangs hands off him
" Isn't it enough that you killed people? "
San stood up and pulled Hongjoong away from the scene
" Want to join them ? I'll gladly help "
"I may not be able to control my emotions and whatsoever but you should definitely be able to control your mouth ! "
The elder was pushed by San's angry state
" Stop it this instant "
She raised her voice and held Yeosang back
" This is unnecessary, y'all are supposed to have a calm breakfast and not this "
" B-But Y/n he was attacking San ! "
Yunho yelled and backed San up who shed angry tears
" I know which are completely out of line , but Yeosang has problems controlling himself and what he says , im not trying to cover up for what he does but if you try your best to ignore or reprehend him it will help you both "
" How is it gonna help me that he's fucked up in the head "
San scoffed and rolled his eyes
" Insulting will never bring us far in anything , it may feel good but it's a temporary thing "
She sighed and took some fresh blue pajamas out of the box and handed it to Yeosang
" Go change and go back "
The boy grabbed the clothes and went inside the rooms bathroom after glaring at San
" San it was not ok of you to push and agitate him more just like what he did and said was unacceptable , and Hongjoong I don't want to see you splash water at anyone again am I clear boys ? "
Hongjoong nodded and hugged her side
" I'm sorry for throwing water at Yeosang "
" And I'll try to ignore his comments even though they hurt a lot and I really wish I could help him stop being like this "
" Why does he even do this Y/n "
Yunho looked at her curious as he continued to rub San's back
" Well Yeosang had a pretty bad history with bullying and negligence during his childhood which leads us to why he is this way "
"P-Poor Yeosang ,why would someone do this "
" That I will never know why but I just know that he will recover and you guys are also a part of his therapy process "
" I'll try to not let myself down by his words "
" Me too ! "
San wiped his eyes and sighed as Yunho hugged him softly for comfort
" You both are such bright and sweet boys don't let a single thing bother you "
" What about me ?! I'm also sweet and bright "
Yunho exclaimed and furrowed his brows making everyone smile
" Of course you are Yunho how could I forget "
She ushered everyone to finish eating as she cleaned the wet floor
" What is inside that box ? "
" I have some things for you guys to do in some minutes , let me go and check up on Sangie "
She went towards the bathroom and knocked but the door wasn't even locked so she peaked inside seeing the boy standing in front of the mirror with his eyes closed and his head hung down
" Yeosang everything good in here ? "
Y/n stepped inside and walked closer to him
“ Is he ok ? ”
“ You mean San ? ”
He nodded and looked up with a scowl
“ Yes he’s doing good now , you that-”
“ I know it hurt him and I don’t know if I feel bad but I’m having this certain pain on my chest area and I don’t know what it is ”
Yeosang finally looked at her and held confusion in his eyes
“ Yeosang your feeling bad for what you did to San and that’s good that your developing some kind of feelings for your actions just like when you laughed that one time when I told you a story and you stopped after saying it didn’t sound funny to you anymore ”
She smiled and crossed her arms together
“ I-I don’t feel bad for him ”
He scoffed but wasn’t sure himself
“ If you finish sorting out your thoughts come out and finish eating ”
She ruffled his hair and this time he didn’t protest
#ateez#ateez angst#ateez atiny#ateez fluff#ateez hongjoong#ateez imagines#ateez jongho#ateez san#ateez mingi#ateez seonghwa#ateez yeosang#ateez wooyoung#ateez yunho#angst with a happy ending#angst#ateez x reader
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Dead Friend Forever ep 7
I LOVED this ep. Loved it.
This is so delicious. I'm trying to think how I would have reacted if I hadn't already known that Phee knew Non. Would I have remembered this fact when Phee was revealed at the end of ep 6? But WHY did Phee lie to the group?! This is so delicious. The mystery.
THEY'RE SO ADORABLE TOGETHER!
At the end of ep 6 I questioned whether Non's red bracelet was for Phee but now that I'm watching this beginning I'm reminded that in ep 2 I theorised that Phee was orange and...here Phee's in blue and Non's sat on the orange chair when they meet (with 'today will be a good day' on Non's shirt)???! Then Phee is in a rich orange and Non in deep blue in the next shot?!? I was so right!
(Oh that's Zo's parents house in Hidden Agenda!)
Oh they have matching bracelets!
(It hurts that they're so happy though)
Phee's dad is a policeman, yes? Yeah, yes yes yes. 👏🏽
Oh my god, Non's fucking t-shirts 🙈 'Moment' when they became boyfriends and now 'Positive Thinking' when Phee asks Non to move schools and Non needs time to consider it.
Wow, Non really does have three people after him - Phee, Jin, and I'm assuming the tutor. Boy's got the milkshake.
Oooo lies between Non and Phee. Non's not telling Phee about the money he owes, right? And he'll get it from the tutor by sleeping with him, and Phee will breakup with Non...
Oh those fateful words - 'I will never lie to you' - oh baby boy the demise of your relationship starts here.
Really?! A low battery and 'help me...' on his t-shirt when Non arrives tired at the house?!
I hate them. IhatethemIhatethemIhatethem. (Por/Tee/Top et al)
We still haven't found out what Non's medication is for, right? Is it for his heart maybe? (coming back to this at the end of the ep...maybe it's for his mind, some kind of mood stabilisers or antipsychotics or something...).
Non doesn't like being touched. I wonder if that's just Jin or by anyone (other than Phee I guess).
And now Non's shirt says 'create' as he's trying to be involved in the filming.
Oh no...no. NON, WHAT ARE YOU DOING?! Is he willingly kissing the tutor or is this an exchange for the money? Has something been lost in translation? Oh no no no. Did Non just cheat on Phee? Willingly?
Oh, Non is a player! How juicy! 🤓
Oh the tutor is Khun Keng! I need to go back to my notes from a past ep for where he was mentioned before. (-> Ah yes, he was the potential hallucination that Jin saw in the temple who Phee apparently didn't see in ep 4...incheresting!)
Oh Non. NonNonNon... I love you. You're so deliciously flawed. How can you lie to Phee like this? But also, it's delicious characterisation. Because now it's even more difficult to know whose 'side' Phee is on in the future. Is he getting revenge for Non or is he a victim of whoever the murderer is as well? DELICIOUS!
Ahhhh and that's Jin's 'rejection'. I bet he's going to be the one to reveal to Phee about Non and Khun Keng.
Oh, or it might be Top and Tee.
Whhhhat is Tee up to? 😒
Actually, how are all these people friends in the future?!? They're all horrible to each other as well.
And then there's this guy, Khun Keng, who in one breath says he wants to stop the scammers and 'save' the students...but then in the next will take advantage of a student to shut him up. 🤦🏽♀️ Brilliant.
Please. I hope they lock the door though.
Oh no. No! Noooooo!!
Yep. And Jin is the one to reveal it. Yep. Yep yep.
That's some serious doxxing. And Jin! Jin who was the least worst out of the group has now done the worst thing to Non (who, tbh, kinda brought it on himself but also is a victim of a TEACHER. IT'S SO MORALLY GREY I LOVE IT). (EDIT: running back here after re-watching the scene [due to comments in the notes] and there are two laptop screens! - one light [Jin's] and one dark [owner unknown]. So Jin may not have been the person to post it...but he must have shared the video for someone else to do it. TASTY)
FUCK'S SAKE NON. 'ALWAYS BE YOURSELF' WHEN YOU GET CAUGHT CHEATING. WITH. A. TEACHER?! 😂 *HOWLING*
Ahhhhhh it got GOOOOOOOOOD. I love how morally grey everyone is. And how it's even more unclear who the 'murderer' might be in the future....because Khun Keng is also in the running now since he got doxxed by Jin. IT'S BRILLIANT. 😁
Por and Tee: we're gonna fuck with Non so bad 😈😏👺
Non: don't worry boys, I'ma fuck things up all by myself 😜😭🤦🏽♀️
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When I was a teenager, I had a therapist who was convinced that I was bipolar. She thought I had a (rare?) variant where my affect is unipolar regardless of if I'm manic, hypomanic, neutral/mixed, depressed, or deeply depressed, but that I did nonetheless experience all the symptoms that are consistent with bipolar disorder.
98% of the time, I think this is trash. I didn't respond to atypical antipsychotics. They just straight up did nothing. I was later diagnosed with PTSD, and did respond to treatment for that. My symptoms of depression and anxiety improved a lot, and improved a lot more post weight loss surgery because I no longer felt like everyone hated me for how I looked (which -- regardless of if that was true, it was how I felt and it felt awful)
2% of the time, though, I wonder if she had a point.
I can't sleep more than a few hours at a stretch. I'm writing a novel and practicing Chinese. I'm irritable and focused on accomplishing goals to the exclusion of little else. I'm feeling outgoing and kinda like I want to take some risks.
This will pass in four to twelve weeks. It always does. Then this diagnosis will go back to not making sense.
Today, though. I wonder.
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Of course all problems and inequalities are direct consequence of modernity and in the past those who are now considered undesirable were considered divine and definitely weren't treated even worse and didn't have access to anything that resembles accomodations. Let's bring those times back!
In Ancient Rome specifically there was no hospitalisation, yes, but also people who were considered mad couldn't make financial and legal operations on their own at all and couldn't be citizens, and were considered pariahs by their communities. This is not to say that you are wrong because you picked the wrong time to see as "when things were better", it's that just because what causes problems now is capitalism doesn't mean that before it people were always kind and caring, everything is much older.
(Or that removing the money would fix everything on its own, for that matter)
are you literally so stupid to fail to see my point
the point isnt "LOOK WHAT THEY TOOK FROM US" the point is that fears and delusions depend on the society youre brought up in; and also sorry that a 5 sentences tumblr post didnt go into history of medical malpractice, it was a lighthearted post made by someone with those very issues
yeah, if i lived then, then id have a different delusion more fit to those times - but it would not resemble my current paranoia or nightmares of being drugged or talked to the way ive had medical staff talk to me bc those things are specific to our society.
(Also you can still have your rights denied for being mentally ill today as well?????? what happened to free britney??? And like My family doctor once literally suggested to my dad to involountary check me into psych ward which was smth my psychiatrist at the time was very much trying to avoid because he KNEW how dehumanizing that is, he spent more than sn hour trying to figure out if my visions of suicide were actual suicide risk or intrusive thoughts; telling me later that he was willing to gamble such a huge risk and responsibility he would have to take in case i actually did smth to myself - just to keep me out of the hospital stay because he worked there and SAW how dehumanizing it is. because getting in the ward here doesnt mean youre done when youre out, this shit affects FUCKLOAD of things in your life!)
are you really trying to be like "LETS TAKE AWAY ACCOMODATIONS FROM PEOPLE WHO SUFFER WOOW GOOD JOB" in my inbox rn btw considering that i am literally schizophrenic w some other mental illnesses, and that i take fucking meds upon meds for it, including antipsychotics??????? and i am also very grateful for those aids, but even with meds my condition will never be resolved and its severity very much depends on the people/society around me. my delusions while living in croatia might differ from someone who lives in the usa.
i literally have no patience or attention or care or anything to argue with you rn, if you wanna discuss political or economical or marxist or whatever theory in my inbox go ahead, but i am NOT arguing about my own fucking lived experience and having you speak to me this way, in an incredibly entitled and dismissive way. its late and im going to bed. i genuinely dont care for your "ummmmm ekshually capitalism is noot thaaat bad-" shit while i keep having episodes on the daily in a big part due to fuckin capitalism. losing my other job is putting me through stress because i have no money, but it also eased up certain aspects of my illness because i dont have to hit hardcore fucking deadlines every week.
p.s. who the fuck is talking about money not existing. if you are gonna bring that up within communist theory and up for a serious discussion thats a whole other thing, but moneyless and stateless society doesnt just rest on tadaaah no money, like theres a reason marx wrote books n essays on that shit and why daddy engels sent him checks. and even in ideal communist world we would still have mental illnesses, but i am absolutely positive that my thoughts would differ than the current ones and that they would probably be less severe. and also why is this implying that communism wont have like the fuckin medication
i usually take care to carefully reply to asks and try to actually give a serious opinion but i gen dont care if i sound incoherent rn, this legit pissed me off
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Hi :) just looking for nice words I guess
Tw sh
I relapsed again (idk if I can even call it that if it's only for that method and only ever go a few weeks clean at most) after having a shit start to my day before work and I realized that I missed an entire weeks worth of my mood stabilizer and antipsychotics and have been doing extremely poorly this past couple days and it just feels so frustrating? Like my job is super stressful and I clearly can't handle it without meds but I hate that I need meds that I will never consistently remember to take and frequently end up causing issues or trying to kms (almost did last night but didn't. Safety planning today even though I hate it). I hate being unstable so much I just wish it was different
I'm not comfortable attempting to give people advice on how to deal with self harm and suicidal ideation, but I'm really sorry you're having such a rough time and I'm sending my love ❤️
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Therapy recap
Another big session with a lot covered!
At the end of last session we were asked to think about why so many parts don't want to be noticed. So the main focus today was on what we had figured out (after repeatedly having realizations and having them plucked away before finally managing to jot some notes down)
We started with the first note:
-figuring out parts tied up in trauma. Becoming more aware of parts = chaos, danger
We explored how our discovery of DID was tied up in escaping the Manor. And that one of the major tipping points in having to acknowledge the existence of other parts was getting arrested for actions we couldn't remember taking but seeing video of ourselves doing it. And in the time that followed parts were engaging in a variety of risky behavior that was frightening to us.
We talked about our fear of other parts. Fear of losing control. Fear of what those parts may hold.
They asked what about rejecting those parts feels safer which left us floundering a bit bc obviously it's not safer and we shouldn't be rejecting them but there's so much fear of what other parts may do.
We ended up detouring here after referencing the prior host. We talked a bit about them and how they split repeatedly before going dormant. This led in to talking about the major shift change that happened upon moving back in with our parents (the parts who were active up to that point couldn't handle going back there and so they didn't). And talking about the origins of the Rowens.
We also detoured into talking about trans stuff and the surgeries we want to get. C got pissed when I told them about how many times we were refused a hysterectomy as treatment for endometriosis because I might "change my mind" or my husband might not like it.
Then we recentered on the original topic and talked about the other note that was left:
- conditioned to interpret voices/ other parts stuff as hallucinations/psychosis, avoid interacting bc "not real"
Throughout our teen years, whenever we started to hear voices our antipsychotics would be increased and for awhile we would be too drugged up to hear anything. Then we'd adjust to the dose and the voices would return and our meds were upped again until at 17 we were on max dose of two antipsychotics.
Parts learned that being noticed meant being drugged away. So they learned to go unnoticed even to ourselves.
We talked about some of the "hallucinations" I could remember. The [redacted] little girl who frightened us and the boy and girl who came to talk us to sleep.
As we were talking about all this I realized that one of the daily life parts in our teens happily went along with being medicated because they were afraid of the voices.
C noted how important that realization was bc it wasn't just external people drugging us up to suppress the voices but also parts who went along with it. This part noticing the voices would lead to them telling our psychiatrist and having our meds increased.
And at that point we were already over session so it was time to wrap up. C asked what we needed before ending but we were actually pretty grounded and doing ok so we wrapped up.
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His Boy
Ronnie Kray x Teddy Smith.
Warnings: Spanking and other sexual stuff. Explicit Smut.
Teddy tries to mend Ronnie's broken nose, and ends up right where he always does: on Ronnie's lap.
Words: 3.4 k
I feel like a weirdo posting this. 😅🙆♂️
♧........♧...........♧............♧
It wasn't the first time Teddy had seen all that blood, the bent nose, the drips on the carpet that Ronnie actually liked a lot. The fine dots and drops of blood had fallen into the beautiful pattern of the carpet, breaking up the steady, gentle repetition of finely curved illustrades. A drop had fallen on a certain finely curved curl that Teddy had stared at many times, whenever he had lain on Ronnie's lap, his ass in the air, enduring the beatings, his buttocks glowing red from the welts of the hand with the cool, hard rings on it. Or the cane from the fine vase in the hallway, a bamboo cane whose welts Teddy could usually feel under the fabric of his pants for days afterwards.
He exhaled softly as Ronnie's glowing gaze met him. His fingers curled up slightly in the kitchen towel he'd grabbed when he'd heard the door. An argument with his twin brother, Reggie. It hadn't been uncommon lately for them to fight because Reggie didn't get along with Frances - or because Ronnie did something that didn't suit him.
But when Teddy saw Ronnie's probably broken nose, he sighed softly. He liked Reggie, he really did. Reggie, of course, was the prettier one of the twins - amiable, always finely dressed, and didn't carry the traces of seething aggression and craziness under his skin like his brother Ronnie. Teddy had liked Reggie a lot at first, watching him furtively whenever Ronnie's eyes were glued to anything but his face. Sometimes, he had wanted to scratch up Frances' face, to rip her beautiful hair off her head, just like that - because he envied her. Because Reggie didn't beat her, and because she had Reggie's beautiful face all over her when he fucked her.
Still, he didn't like it when Reggie hurt Ronnie. The missing pills were to blame, his antipsychotics. Ronnie almost never took them, unless Teddy reminded him to. Well - Teddy was used to knowing Ronnie as he was, always had been. To him, it made no difference, per se, whether Ronnie took them or not. But the subtle aggressive structures of his mental disorder became more palpable, like a guest moving into Ronnie's head, whispering strange things to him. He was more aggressive, loving violence. Only today, his eyes were different. Teddy saw the anger, the astonishment, the shock - and something he could almost put under the term sadness.
If that feeling existed in Ronnie.
Teddy fumbled a little with the kitchen towel, folding it between his fine fingers before asking quietly, "What happened?"
"He hit me, Reggie. Look at what he did - 's it bad, Teddy?" Ronnie grunted, walking with heavy steps over to the mirror in the living room. His mom, Valerie, was thankfully asleep. She wouldn't have believed it had been Reggie. But Teddy knew the other brother's punch. He had already had to feel it himself, under the powerful urge of the incoming excitement of that gesture. It was always a highlight for him when Reggie touched him - even if it was to teach him a lesson. The last time for a lesson had been when he'd hit Leslie so hard, out of sheer jealousy over Ronnie's attention, that Leslie had almost lost an eye.
"Ah, fuck - ma nose, ma beautiful nose. What a ...- my fuckin' brother!" Ronnie cursed loudly, and Teddy carefully stood next to him, gently standing on tiptoe to get a closer look at Ronnie's face.
"It's broken, Ronnie. I can fix it if you want," Teddy murmured softly, the glowering gaze of Ronnie's eyes on him. The big man snorted softly, a few drops of blood spreading further across the beautiful carpet.
"You can do that? Nah, I don't-"
"Fixed my own nose once, I did. Gonna hurt though, ya hear?" Teddy said, taking the fingers of his right hand out of the cloth, resting them lightly and warmly against Ronnie's cheek. He felt the twitch under Ronnie's skin, it was so warm. It set off an excited tingle in Teddy's stomach area.
"Did ya? Hmph, you know what I'm going to do if you fuckin' mess it up?"
"I know, and I'm not going to screw it up."
"I could kill you pretty right here and now for that, huh? Think the nose's ugly, don't ya?" Ronnie grunted angrily, and there it was, the absence of psychotropic drugs. Words Ronnie said without understanding the meaning - blindly directed because he didn't realize, not quite, that his brother had done this to him, and not Teddy. Thick, strong fingers dug around Teddy's chin, jerked it up, and Teddy gulped.
"I could-"
"Who's going to fix your nose then, huh? Can punish me for it afterwards, but your nose will stay like that," Teddy breathed out tensely, knowing the effect his words were having on Ronnie. The man's eyes narrowed slightly, then he nodded, his lower lip slightly open, his row of teeth bared below. He sniffled deeply, his nose clogged with blood, before dropping onto the couch.
"You're being careful, aren't you?" he grunted, and Teddy smiled.
"I always am."
"Don't tell anyone, you hear?"
"I never do, Ronnie."
"Hmm, good boy."
Teddy clicked his tongue, wiped his fingers on the kitchen towel, and went into the kitchen to get some bandages. He knew well by now where everything lay - Valerie had introduced him to the Krays' house, after all, well aware and grateful that Teddy was still by Ronnie's side. Sometimes he thought he read from her eyes that she really liked him - because he had never judged Ronnie, despite his bouts of cruelty. But Teddy knew nothing else. He had grown up just as much in the pain of a poor neighborhood, and Ronnie was his ticket to a better life.
You put up with these things if you could live for them like a prince. You just put up with them, and shut up when Ronnie wanted you to.
When Teddy had gathered his things, he put them down next to Ronnie on the couch, and sat down wide-legged on the broad lap. He had always loved Ronnie's thighs, those wide trunks, strong enough to break a body. There was ecstasy in every fiber of those muscles.
That's why Teddy suppressed the surge of pleasure that sloshed through his body as he pressed closer to Ronnie's face, slender fingers against his cheek. The nose looked really nasty, and it was really broken. It would be a slight jolt, but how Ronnie would react to the pain, well - Teddy didn't know.
"S' gonna hurt, Ronnie, okay? I'll make one quick move, it'll hurt, and then you'll be pretty again," Teddy whispered hoarsely, and Ronnie grunted.
"Am I not pretty now? I know you're always staring at Reggie-"
"I don't, and you are pretty, Ronnie, always. Reggie's too soft."
A narrow grin crossed Ronnie's bloodied face, like a twitch, short and beautiful. "He is."
"You ready?" Teddy asked, and Ronnie's nod wasn't even quite finished before he applied the pressure of his fingers to his nose and had them moving quickly to the side, pushing the nose back into place with a horrible cracking sound.
"FUCK!"
Of course he screamed, and of course Ronnie threw Teddy off his lap, the slight new stream of blood like shock on his face. Teddy licked his lips. Heat, so much heat in his body, in his loins.
Bad boy, he could hear it now, feel it like a tingling promise on his skin.
"What did ya fuckin' do?!"
"The nose is straight again, Ronnie, I made it whole again! You still need tape, let me tape it-"
Ronnie snorted. The drops of blood plopped onto the carpet, a few more, then it stopped, though Ronnie's voice still sounded impossibly nasal. He paced up and down, eyes on the floor, and then - heavy, heaving footsteps in the hallway, the sound of fine leaves, and Teddy's skin tingled with pleasure. The bamboo stick.
Ronnie sat down wordlessly on the couch, his broad legs like mighty tree trunks, and slapped his right thigh with the flat of his hand. "Com'ere." he commanded, without a kind word, without the litter Teddy usually knew when they were alone. Eyes gleaming menacingly behind the lenses of his glasses, Teddy pushed himself off the ground. There were a few drops of blood around the edges of Ronnie's glasses, but Teddy paid them no further attention as he lay belly-first on Ronnie's thigh, his lap full of tingling sensations.
Teddy liked violence. He liked brutality, didn't know why - but he had always been one of those boys who had never been too gentle - just right for Ronnie Kray, and one of the reasons Teddy was his best boy. Because he could endure, because he didn't break under what Ronnie needed, what turned Ronnie on, what excited Ronnie. Teddy was never broken. He wore the bruises on his body like trophies, wore them like something to be proud of - because it was the signature of Ronnie Kray. The secret king of London. And Teddy was his boy.
"Pants down." Ronnie grunted darkly, and Teddy obeyed. The air of the living room was cool around the skin of his bottom, a pleasant change from what was to come. Ronnie let out a soft, dark sound as Teddy lay back on his legs, lower body naked, and a rough, coarse hand gripped his left buttock firmly, slapping it lightly.
"You'll pay for this, you will."
Teddy breathed out. "Yeah."
The moments before the first blow were always the most erotic Teddy ever felt. Like a burning in the air, like a tingle in his lap, in his cock, like waiting for a fucking surprise. The air was electrified, magical, the warmth of Ronnie's thighs beneath him like the softest cloud.
The first stroke was hard, so hard it elicited a hoarse sound from Teddy. It was more of a squeak, high and soft, that he knew turned Ronnie sheer on - he loved it when he could do this. And Teddy loved the feel of the hard bamboo stick on his bare skin, the tingle it left. The red welts, the warmth on his butt cheeks as it formed. The red marks, sometimes a little chapped skin that he knew Ronnie loved to lick, to run his hands over curiously before fucking him. And this, Teddy thought to himself in sheer excitement at the next stroke - was guaranteed to end in a hard fuck.
He knew Ronnie could feel his erection against his thighs. With each breath, with each stroke more on his ass, Teddy's cock stiffened, pressing against the warm, rough fabric of Ronnie's thighs in the expensive pants, letting a soft friction build as soon as his body arched minimally under the blow of the bamboo cane.
"I like your shirt." Ronnie grunted, absurdly, it didn't fit - but it was Ronnie, and the cane, and Teddy moaned softly the next time the cane slapped hard against his skin, leaving pain and burn and pleasure in its wake. Ronnie's own poem burned into his skin.
"Ronnie-" Teddy's voice grew softer, higher, a pleading whimper. His hard cock pressed against Ronnie's thigh, was literally massaged, licked at drops. But the heat of the strokes didn't abate, only a little more hardness was added - by the movements and by Ronnie's lap, oh yeah, a firm erection pressed there into the fine fabric of his pants.
Teddy loved Ronnie's cock. It was as broad and big and fucking hot as anything on him - well built, and made to destroy him if he wanted to. Teddy had often had to take warm baths after sex with Ronnie to preserve his body - he could take a lot, always, but he needed his time afterward.
With a quiet moan, Teddy felt Ronnie's free hand settle on one buttock, gripping tightly, almost grabbing. Broad fingers fumbled at his crack, seeking, finding. They were already wet, Teddy hadn't realized, when they found what they were looking for, digging deep into Teddy's body, two of Ronnie's fucking wide fingers. The pulling and stretching was passion, coupled with another stroke and an undeniable exhale from Ronnie that almost bordered on a greedy moan.
Fuck, it didn't take much longer.
Teddy had to endure two more hard blows where, despite the rising numbness in the flesh, he could feel it tearing the skin slightly - it burned so nicely - then, with a gasping exhale, Ronnie pushed him belly-first onto the sofa, tossing the bamboo cane carelessly away. His heavy hands pressed Teddy's shoulder blades hard down on the sofa, pressing the boy firmly into the finely flowered fabric of Valerie's couch, and Teddy heard Ronnie undo his belt with rising excitement.
Once, just once, Teddy had been allowed to see him completely naked, otherwise Ronnie always left his clothes partially on. And it had been a groundbreaking time, because Ronnie, despite his oddness, was so damn well trained, had broader shoulders than his brother, a brutally toned chest. Teddy had been allowed to ride him that day, with hands as tight as vices around his hips. But Teddy had come, way too fast, drenching Ronnie's chest in a lean white of cum.
"Fuckin' bastard," Ronnie grunted, spitting roughly between Teddy's crack, pressing the hard and erect tip of his broad and thick cock between them, pushing himself between Teddy's butt cheeks without further foreplay, pushing his cock into the tight hole. The fingers on his butt glowed, rubbing over the sore skin, but the stretching and pain from the intrusion made Teddy forget all about it.
He moaned as loudly as he dared before a broad hand snaked in front of his mouth and squeezed hard - the absence of air made Teddy dizzy, aroused by the brutality. Ronnie's weight pressed him down hard, and it was nice to be squeezed so nicely between that body and his weight, and to have his own cock wedged so tightly on Mommy Kray's soft couch.
"Don't wake Mom, you lil' whore!" Ronnie growled hotly against his ear, and Teddy shook his head, breathing, gasping for air as his fingers released from his mouth and Ronnie truly fucked him hard into the couch.
It was ecstasy, every time. The pain was so pleasurable that it was quickly replaced by the probing sensation of an approaching orgasm, forming deep in Teddy's belly. The friction of his cock against the couch and with Ronnie's thick cock sliding so deep inside him, soon better, it was like a pure piece of pleasure written by the god of lust himself. Teddy could do nothing but cling to the fabric of the couch with clammy fingers, controlling his breathing, and taking and taking that cock as hard and as well as he could.
Ronnie was never a tender lover, but he was a good one, more animal than man in bed, with rough moans and grunts, hips snapping hard like a stud bull. Teddy nearly choked on his own saliva as Ronnie thrusted deeper, deeper, hitting the fine bundles of nerves inside him again and again. The tip of his cock rubbed firmly against it, Teddy knew that Ronnie knew. He timed the motions just right to hit that spot again and again, feeling the softness in Teddy's limbs, the trembling in his shoulder blades.
"You're gonna come for me, Teddy.", Ronnie groaned out, the hard cock with a firm jerk so damn deep, made Teddy's spine rebel slightly. Teddy opened his mouth, but no words came out. No moan, he just gasped, knowing he was close.
A thought that had driven him to climax many times before pressed into his brain with manic swiftness: this one thought, this forbidden one, that he would one day want to act out. Reggie and Ronnie, both above him, behind him, inside him. The pushing and shoving of two thick cocks inside him, his hole stretched to bursting. The twins sharing Teddy like a cheap hooker, the way they embraced his body, held him, fucked him and fucked him until Teddy came. Feeling not only Ronnie's fat cock, but Reggie's as well, both brothers joined inside him...-
His orgasm bored into Teddy's body so violently that he didn't have time to really dig his fingers into the sofa. His body stiffened for only a few seconds, then he reared back, and it spurted out of his cock, discharging into the muscles of his ass, contracting and milking Ronnie Kray, quivering, trembling, in full ecstasy. Teddy even blacked out for a moment because Ronnie just kept fucking him, calling him a bitch, grabbing his neck and squeezing him tighter into the fabric. But Teddy came and fucking came, it was so good, it was so-
"Fuck, fuckin'-", it was rare for Ronnie to moan - usually he came silently - but today he came loudly, as if he wanted Teddy's orgasm to last. Teddy could feel the hot spurts inside him, wanted to catch them with the tip of his tongue, choke on them, even as he loved the wetness building in his hole, more with each slide. Especially because Ronnie kept thrusting, really riding out the orgasm, fucking Teddy for several moments after he had cum.
It took Teddy a long time to get his breath back. Until he felt details, like the burning of his skin, like the heat on his back - Ronnie's nose must have been dripping, triggered slight aftershocks in Teddy's body. He couldn't move, even though Ronnie had long since braced himself and closed his pants again, giving Teddy a less soft shove in the ribs.
Teddy stayed down, just today, just briefly, as Ronnie brought the bamboo cane back into the hallway, stuck it in the beautiful vase as if it hadn't just been the tool of a satisfaction. He stroked his clothes, wrinkled his nose with a soft, pained sound, and then nudged Teddy lightly.
"We're going to bed, now, Teddy. Will you clean up?"
Teddy smiled. His body ached, throbbed, but he was fine. "Sure."
Teddy always cleaned up, tidied up when the evenings and nights ended like this. He fixed Ronnie's nose briefly, patted it so it wouldn't hang crooked in his face again in the morning. Then he put everything away, wiping what blood he could off the carpet still. But the dark stains remained. He would have to scrub along with Valerie tomorrow, while Ronnie would surely be sitting next to them, on the big armchair, eating a piece of warm carrot cake. The broad hand always slightly hollowed under his mouth, so that no crumbs would fall on his lap, neat, almost pedantic, as he sometimes was.
Before Teddy went upstairs, he took the brownish tin of pills with him, and with a quiet exhale, placed it on Ronnie's side of the bed. They always slept in the children's room when they were here - Valerie had never changed it because her sons had always been her everything.
"Will you take them, for me, Ronnie?" Teddy asked softly as he pulled his light blue shirt off his body, and with a pleasurable soft sound, lay down in bed next to Ronnie. He then gently placed the pillbox on Ronnie's chest, his eyes upturned to the scowling man. Ronnie's mouth twisted.
"Nah-"
"Please." Teddy pleaded, and indeed, Ronnie formed a large, cupped hand, dropped two pills into it, and swallowed them. Sometimes, when they'd been acting out, he was actually quite pleasant. Like they were in a real relationship, like it wasn't an honor that Teddy got to be here in bed - but something perfectly normal.
Normality.
Sometimes, but only sometimes, Teddy longed for it. For what Reggie and Frances had, for holding hands, for sex in the shower, for rides on Ronnie's lap because it felt so normal and good. Because for once, Teddy was in control.
But actually, it was also good the way it was. He at Ronnie's side - and with the two pills in him that always made him sleepy - Ronnie even pulled Teddy into a hug, letting him sleep with his head on his shoulder.
Almost comforting, like a boy who just wanted some soothing love after his fight and broken nose. Even if it was still Ron Kray.
But Teddy was his boy, and that was all that mattered.
He would endure.
#legend#ronnie kray#mad teddy#teddy smith#ronnie kray x teddy smith#ron kray#taron egerton#tom hardy
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How you doing my pretty baby? ✨
had a really rough patch, but I'm on actual new meds now... like... just starting tonight lol.
i was on an antipsychotic for a good two-three months there for a bit, and it made me overwhelmingly angry.
maybe it's just placebo effect, but i took my new antidepressant last night and I feel so much better this morning...
i was on seroquel, which i was on when I was a kid, but since I've been taking it again, I can't control basically anything I've been doing anger wise. i deleted the discord server, I'm yelling at my parents and siblings, I'm bullying my girlfriend, I scream at my friends over small things... I'm becoming a total jerk.
i stutter over every sentence, so my texts and speech make little to no sense. i'm constantly starving, so I've gained like 5 lbs. I'm uncontrollably angry, so my relationships are dissolving... but tonight I'm doing better.
i'm on vraylar now, which i know absolutely nothing about, I just went to my doctor and begged to get off of seroquel, so she put me on that instead.
i've surprisingly been trying to write the past couple days. I'm not totally sure when I will start writing my normal stories like FMOD, COSIO, TYA... but for now I'm working on side projects.
i put heavy consideration into abandoning FMOD for as long as possible, but I'm not sure atm. I'm not angry or frustrated today, so I feel well enough to actually daydream about it. it's too early to tell when my anger will be completely gone, so I'm going to ride this feel-better train for as long as I physically can.
everything will be figured out within the next week. i know I haven't uploaded anything in the past month, but if I start writing today then I can get something done by the end of the week.
i want to rekindle my relationship with not only my followers, but also my stories as well.
i'm sorry i deleted the discord server. if anyone tried to message me, no I didn't block you, I just didn't have you added as a friend so it didn't go through.
i want to get better and i'm doing everything I can to get better.
if you think i owe you an apology for something I said, or if you just want to chat, my discord tag is "beebsters" anyone and everyone who wants to communicate with me is more than willing to add me.
if i get people wanting me to make the server again, I will, but probably not for the next month. i need to figure everything out mentally before I do that.
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I'm raw today. I haven't cried, but several times I've wanted to.
Today was one of those days where the frustrations created weren't from my own actions, but the response inside me is all mine. Perhaps I'm pre-menstrual? Then again, it's well-established by now that I'm a sensitive soul at the best of times.
I started the day with a phone call to a mother. I was asked to call her to just tell her to restart a certain medication her son had been on. Simple. Easy. I'd never met her. Never met her son. I was relaying a message. It took her less than twenty seconds to unleash at me. I'd gotten no further than saying where I was calling from and the yelling and crying - both from her - began. It went on for over twenty minutes before I calmed her down. Or maybe she calmed herself down. But it was twenty minutes of being abused by someone I had never met. Finally I met her needs on some level. The yelling stopped. When I called her back an hour later to update her on the crisis steps I'd put in place given her complaints, she cried again but this time thanked me. She apologised. It was too late though. My skin was already on fire. My muscles were already tensed too much to be able to relax again in any reasonable time period. My guard was up. I was on the defensive. Ready to see the attacks coming from everywhere.
A consultant from another specialty then attacked our management plan of a patient who was only mildly unwell. The plan - a psychiatric plan - was simple. Standard. Usual practice. It had already been implemented and was working well. My boss and I had discussed it. Then this random doctor decided to write a note in the patient's medical record that was a thinly veiled sermon on his personal beliefs regarding antipsychotic medication. But he chose to attack me personally as mine was the name in the computer that had written the plan. He's never met me before. I doubt he'd heard my name before today. Then again, I have a pretty generic basic white bitch name, so maybe he'd heard my name before, but he didn't know it was mine. He doesn't know me. But he came for me as if I somehow represent psychotropics. I bit my tongue. I took a lap of the block. I kept my eyes down. I breathed deeply.
My team leader saw the note a short time after I did. He appeared in my office, checking I was okay, aware of just how personal the words had been. But it was too late. That was two hits now. There wouldn't be a third. Or, rather, I know myself well enough to know that if a third person appeared, they wouldn't be getting away with it as easily as the first two had. I knew that if a third person came for me, the warrior woman inside of me, the impulsive and reckless side, it would wage war on whoever was brave enough to be the third today before I'd had a chance to stop myself.
Please don't let there be anyone else...
The phone was quiet all day. It's Wednesday. The phone shouldn't have been quiet all day. It's the day Dad calls. But he didn't. He'd gotten distracted by something else. It was something important. I get it. But I felt like an outsider. Alone in it all. Like I didn't belong anywhere.
There was someone else I'd expected to hear from. A man. But the phone has been quiet. I think that's the final straw. Would I normally care? Probably. I don't do well with being letdown or with broken promises, but I probably could've managed okay. But now, in the evening with the phone quiet, it's all a bit much. The silence is better than the contact that is rejection though. At least today. I doubt I could've controlled my response today. So no message is a message but it won't trigger anything inside me. It's awful and painful and also some kind of small mercy. If I don't hear from him, then I can't impulsively lash out in anger.
It's funny. I can rationalise it all. I understand it all. That doesn't mean the world feels any less alone though. I wish it did. I wish intellectualising allowed it to sit more gently. To take up less space inside me.
I saw Z today. It's been so long. He didn't see me. I was thankful. I didn't want him to see my weight gain or the dark circles under my eyes. I saw him. He's gained weight too. He looks older. Worn out. It was the first time I've ever seen him with his hair in need of a cut. I wonder if everything is okay? He looks like trash. Like he's not sleeping either. What is happening for him? Is something happening in his life that's making him feel the same kinda way...? I wish I could will him into smiling my way again. Not that it would get me anywhere, even if I could. If he'd said hello, there's every chance he would've been on the receiving end today. He's never apologised. He's a fair target. Right?
I'm alone today. But I understand this is best in some ways. I don't trust myself to regulate my anger after being so defensive. I'm home now. It's quiet. It's lonely. Again though, it's some kind of small mercy.
It's just harder some days than others. The things that are fine some days can just not be fie the next. I'm okay. For goodness sake, we all know by now that one way or another I'm always okay, but today is a tough day.
It was a really tough day and I hope tomorrow is better.
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Today will be the first day in me getting my life back together. For nearly 6 years, I was on antidepressants due to difficulty with transitioning from active duty to the civilian sector. I joined the National Guard in hopes of a better opportunity, and getting something better than the leadership I was dealt by others. I had a lot of personal demons and never found full satisfaction in life. Eventually, after a attempt on my own life, I was voluntarily sent to a psychiatric facility. There, I got my first prescription antidepressant that actually seem to make a difference. A while the effects were generally positive at first, the reality eventually took hold. Eventually things got worse, due to my own poor choices and inability to go forward.
I was prescribed an antipsychotic, that basically made me emotionally numb and gain roughly 20 pounds over a couple of years. Eventually, I was medically retired from military service. Which gave me much needed money, due to my depression basically ruining my opportunities for a job or motivation to find one. I eventually got my first full-time job that assisted me greatly, but I hated the customers and the lack of enthusiasm from leadership above.
One day, I was sent back to the storage unit that only employees go into. After a half hour discussion, I was terminated from my position due to violating company policy over questionable circumstances given by them. I lost all of my money, basically being unemployed. Eventually I found a new job in a different field all together, and I seem to be arguably very efficient at my job as told to me by my coworkers and fellow supervisors. I went back to school during this time, while the first instance didn't work out so well. The second one pretty much made me come to the realization with a lot of things.
Eventually I took a break, and went overseas to meet a special someone. It really gave me motivation but then, things didn't go as planned with school. Eventually I was dismissed from that program, and then joined a new program all together where I was on my way to become valedictorian of my class in some way. During February of 2023, I got the approval from my psychiatrist to get off the antidepressants all together, over the span of a year or so finally trying to get off of this stuff.
I felt very proud of myself, and I definitely felt the weight come off of me literally. As I lost nearly 5 lb in 2 weeks after getting off that stuff. While completing the second semester of my program, I got a phone call from a potential employer which I took immediately. As I was fed up with the uncertainty of the my current employer, and leadership basically ignoring me altogether. The school that I finished my second semester with left an open door for me, as they were on good terms with me overall and I never started anything like some other students. Then I started my current position at this agency.
It is arguably the most fulfilled I have ever felt at any job, but the training took a while to get to as it is standard with this position. I definitely see my ups and downs, but I definitely feel satisfied overall. I decided to get myself better altogether despite some of the gripes I feel from employment. I want to improve myself, and get back to a weight that I am satisfied with. Along with brushing off my native tongue, and learning the language of my eventual spouse.
I did not do much anything on New Year's Eve or today at all. But, I definitely feel a lot more prepared for the world, and its challenges. I and definitely going to take myself in the right direction, and use all the knowledge and experience I have acquired in life for the betterment of myself and those I care about.
Wish me luck everyone, as I finally take total control and lead the example that I want others to follow.
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Hmmmm I forgot to take my daily(eveningly? nightly?) antipsychotic yesterday & I was much happier and less tired today... Easier to draw.. easier to think and examine my surroundings... I started a huge art project... I didn't even have to nap... Academia stuff is gonna get wayyy less heavy super soon so, I think I'll skip today too and only take tomorrow if weirdbrain gets like more impairing than annoying. yup that's the plan. Pallas is baaaack!
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I have a vent. It's a little long and maybe confusing. Sorry. Our psych has us on increased antipsychotics which is all well and good for hallucinations. But it's also fixing the dissociating. Great I'm theory. Only I can still hear my headmates but only like... like they're far away. But now they can't seem to front either. And I feel trapped in front and desperate for a break. I normally have to front anyway but now I can't even let someone else deal with it over the weekend. And I'm sure my psychiatrist will count it as a success and I can't tell her I want to dissociate more. But now I feel like a horrible person. For always fronting. Or maybe I don't have headmates at all and it was all hallucinations and then I feel like a bad person for accidently lying to people. I'm sorry. That was long. Thank you for letting me vent
Hey anon. It's gonna be ok. I understand things are scary and stressful right now, but we're here for you.
I have some things to say that might help, but I know you didn't ask for any, so apologies in advance if you didn't want advice. Also, please be aware I am not a medical professional of any kind, and I am speaking solely off my own experiences.
First, many different medications may have different impacts on you and your system; for example, we're on low-grade pain medication that tends to make us dissociate for an hour or two after it kicks in. So, it's possible you're feeling unexpected side effects.
I know you said you don't necessarily want to tell your psychiatrist about wanting to dissociate more, but perhaps you could phrase it as "I think the higher dose is interfering with communication to my other [alters, parts, headmates, etc.]", or suggest switching medicine if it's not working out for you.
Of course, I am no stranger to the idea that having mental health professionals who listen to you are hard to come by sometimes. I also obviously do not know your specific situation, so take all this with a grain of salt.
Second, I can't sit here and tell you whether your system is hallucinations or not. I can, however, tell you that it's ok to continue identifying as plural if you so wish. Psygenic, hallucingenic, and deligenic are 3 terms I can think of off the top of my head that relate to psychosis and plurality intersecting, though there are many more.
And lastly... I say this with the utmost respect and kindness: what if you are wrong? What if you find out your headmates are related to your psychosis, and you no longer resonate with "system"?
It's ok! It is ok to change and go through phases. It is ok to experiment with labels. You are not a bad person or lying to anyone. You're exploring different ways to be at home in your own skin, and that is never something to be ashamed of.
Lying as a concept is inherently on purpose. You need 2 things to lie; the desire to be deceptive, and the intent to purposefully carry out that desire. If you don't have both of those things, you are not lying!
I say all these things to try and reframe them into a different perspective. How you feel is 100% valid, but, anon, I promise you, you're not doing anything morally wrong. You're trying your best to figure things out, like everyone else you know is probably doing.
TL;DR: You're not a bad person, we love you very much, and please be kind to yourself today. Allow yourself to exist as you are.
I hope any of this helps, even a tiny bit. Please feel free to reach out again if you feel the need or want to.
🖤💜💙💚💛
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In an unusual style I am contemplating the growth I have experienced in the last couple years. When I reflect on a larger scale, it is even more overwhelming.
In 2018 I came on here and broadcasted my entire psychotic break to the world. I messaged strangers on Instagram thousands of times. To call it a prophecy only takes into account the way it felt. To call it nonsense is much more accurate, however it takes away from how powerful and all-knowing it felt.
Anyways, that psychotic break lasted about 6 months. I couldn't really read or write. What I did read had meanings only I could derive, what I did write only I could follow. I was catatonic for a period. I felt like people were following me and talking to me through the walls. The visual hallucinations were mostly terrifying and I couldn't leave the house or drive. I fought.
In 2021, I got a job working in mental health. I was on close to the maximum dose of Seroquel and it was exhausting. I could navigate my world without irrational paranoia and hallucinations, but at a serious cost. I still couldn't read. I couldn't write poetry. I had no creative bone and I felt like a dried up lake. I reflect on this period with pride. I counseled others experiencing what I did and it helped them, despite the serious symptoms I was battling.
I eventually succumbed to a severe bipolar depression with again, psychotic features. I came off Seroquel because I simply couldn't function anymore, and I decided I'd rather be psychotic and living than mentally sound and dead. I am honestly proud of that decision, although it came at a serious cost.
I was in the hospital and I refused to take Seroquel no matter how much it was pushed down my throat. I screamed that I deserved to live and function like my previous normal, all the way back in 2016. I got to a partial hospitalization program (PHP) where someone finally believed me. They believed I could function at a higher level and they carried me there with a new antipsychotic and therapy.
While I was in the PHP and as I stabilized on my new medication, I could read again. It was really hard but I could. I used all my brainpower to study for the GRE. I eventually applied to a prestigious university in my town, writing a beautiful essay, and I got in. I never ever visualized what it would be like to achieve this goal. I don't even know where this goal came from. Frankly, I feel like it was a whirlwind and now I'm here, fighting this feeling of not belonging.
Today I will finish my first week of classes for my Master's degree. I am studying policy analytics. I love math and the words being spoken to me don't sound like a jumbled mess. I can read and remember what I just read. I can write for a diverse audience and give presentations. I feel like I don't belong but I do. I pressed through something many people will simply never have to, and I'm fucking proud.
I write all this to say that we get better. To the girl who didn't know if people would ever understand her again but pressed on like God had sent her, thank you. To the girl who took a job in mental health and fought for her right to think straight and not be psychotic, thank you. To the girl who wrote that beautiful essay and used her last brain cell to study for the GRE, thank you. I am here now because I worked so fucking hard to be well and I can finally say it. I am not only well, but I'm working toward a goal I never could have dreamed of being permitted to achieve.
There are so many people who wanted the seat I have now. There are so many people who had this dream and aren't living it. I am living this dream because I am fucking worth it. My skills, my resiliency, my strength, all of it is why I am here. I write this to remind myself, and the future Julia, you fucking belong and you are here to fulfill your purpose. It will be hard some days, but keep pressing on like God sent you. Do it for the Julia that could hardly read and studied for the GRE anyway. The girl who fought for purpose in darkness, having no idea the light that would come.
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Tl;dr i am schizophrenic and sometimes (VERY RARELY) i forget to take my meds. Then weird things happen.
Forgot 2 take my meds for two (three?) days (my antipsychotics), today I hallucinated:
(Cw for REALLY GROSS)
Writhing piles of maggots on the ceiling 🪱🪱(Two of them)! Usually when this happens (the hallucinating, not the maggots, the maggots are new) I see just one very distinct hallucination. This is the first time (I think) I've seen multiple at one time! They were so realistic I could draw what they looked like in vivid detail, and they remained in their specific locations. The only time they moved (as in, moved from their location, not just moved in general bc ofc they were *moving*, they were writhing) was right before they went away. Usually this is how it happens, where when my hallucinations are going to disappear they just kind of... slide away from my field of vision completely until they are gone. Worth noting: I legitimately have a phobia of maggots (stemming from a phobia of fruit flies from when I lived in a squat house in Roswell, GA and stepped bare foot in to a pile of fruit fly larvae), so these hallucinations were especially unpleasant. And it lasted for a while, while I just sat there and stared at them, really wishing I was doing anything but that lol. Luckily, maggots on the ceiling felt like something that simply would not be real, so it didn't freak me out or make me think it was actually happening.
Definitely going to remember to take my meds before bed tonight lmaoo
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some of the reasons (there's more) i don't wanna have any therapy ever again if i can are:
therapists have a major financial incentive in coddling you so you return again and again. few if any i've met rise above it.
inability to tell you hard facts (similar to above but a bit different) and frame even objective facts of your physical reality like 'i'm always too fucking tired' as 'oh you're too hard on yourself it's ok to do nothing outside of work for months on end'
when you push them on purpose so they get shorter/snappier with you, they suggest something completely unrealistic for a regular habit - high effort and high expense, time consuming, etc.
(in retrospect this may not have made me a fun patient sdifughs)
just dont wanna rehash my entire life, AGAIN, for someone to latch on to something im not that interested in discussing because it's been done to death (divorced parents. bro that's everyone today pleaaaase get up to date for 21st century)
just in general. extremely fucking tired of thinking of and talking about myself. exhausting boring depressing. unfun.
the therapy->psychiatry pipeline (in my case at least it's unavoidable unless i outright lie and conceal about everything that happened 2013-2014) and horrific antipsychotic medication fast-track. i am NEVER taking that shit again. i already lowkey suspect 5 years on 800mg seroquel daily will eventually be the reason i develop swiss cheese brain when i'm elderly, or possibly earlier. im fucking lucky it didn't make me obese diabetic and hypertensive.
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