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#im sure a therapist would have a field day with that one
sophsicle · 5 months
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"No, don't - don't come any closer."
"Reg-" "Please, please, I don't want you to see me like this, just let me - let me clean myself up and-"
"You're shaking."
"Sorry."
"You don't - Reg - Regulus, stop, hey," he takes the other boy by the arm as he tries to get past him, pulling him in.
"I'm sorry," Regulus says again. "I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I'm so fucking sorry."
"Sh, sh, it's alright, we're alright," Regulus is flush against his chest, head tucked beneath his chin.
"I don't know why I'm crying."
"You don't need to have a reason." "You shouldn't have to come home to this." "What are you talking about? I get to come home to you. That's all that matters." Regulus shakes his head against James's shirt, sniffling. "I'll get myself together." "I don't mind you apart." "I meant to have dinner ready." "I'm not hungry." "James." "Regulus." "I don't know what's wrong with me," he says miserably. "Nothing, nothing's wrong," and then, after a brief pause, and in a voice so gentle Regulus doesn't know how it's even possible: "You're just depressed." Regulus half-laughs and half-sobs into James. "You have no tact, anyone ever tell you that? No tact at all."
"You tell me all the time," kissing the top of his head and holding him more tightly. A few seconds pass before: "I love you, you know?"
Regulus's hands are all twisted up in James's shirt, a wounded noise coming out of his mouth. "I thought it might stop, now that..." "That?" "You and I are..that we're so good. I thought it might stop." "Don't think it works like that."
"I'm sorry." "No," kissing his head again. His temple. His ear. His cheek. "I don't mind Regulus, I really don't. You just need to tell me, okay? Tell me when you feel it coming on, and I'll know and I'll be here."
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earl-grey-love · 1 year
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I love survival horror games. Especially when they have companions for me to get attached to and overprotective of.
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legitimately fuckin obsessed with the avatrice football au my dude. that last snippet brought me pure JOY im tellin you what
[well here's some ava pov while i procrastinate ch3 plot lol, s/o to @unicyclehippo for the worst/best gay pun of all time, love u. honestly this is long enough to put on ao3 so ... i'll do that in a footy au series i suppose for context... justice for chanel lol]
///
waking up from your first surgery is a blur, mostly an inexplicable terror when you can’t feel your legs, when you can barely move your fingers. tears leak from your eyes and you can’t wipe them, can only let them roll down into your temples. but then there’s a hand in yours, and chanel’s comforting touch, her voice soft.
‘it’ll be okay, ava,’ she says.
it won’t be okay, you’re certain of it, because you’d been taken straight from the field to the hospital, and then right into surgery, your kit cut off so that they didn’t move your spine more than you already had. you love football; you love football, the feeling of being so at home in your body, the feeling of going fast and the delight of the burn in your muscles, of not being afraid of anything.
‘i’m really scared.’ you look at chanel, showered and gorgeous, in a team issued bomber that seems impossibly elegant, even now. 
‘yeah,’ she grants, swipes her thumb against your cheeks and into your hair, catching your tears. she grabs a tissue and wipes your nose, which, from anyone else, would be absolutely horrifying, but she does it with so little fanfare and you’re in pain and also not pain — the worse option — you can’t even really care. she’s your favorite teammate: kind and brave and funny. she’s your friend. ’you’re gonna get through this, though.’
‘i don’t — i don’t want to.’
you don’t even quite know what you mean, still out of it because of pain meds and anesthesia, but chanel sighs gently.
‘you will. one day, you will.’
/
you don’t, not for a long time. after your fifth surgery you kind of tell yourself that you’ve definitely given up on football; they move you to a long-term rehab facility specifically for spine injuries, which is better than the hospital for sure, but it’s still hours and hours of physical and occupational therapy that leaves you feeling discouraged more often that not. once the inflammation starts to go down in your spine, you start to, at least, regain some function in your arms and hands, and after your sixth surgery, things are, you’ll admit, more hopeful. at the very least, you’ll be able to do things like use a manual chair and cook and type emails. 
you’re not great at texting yet; your occupational therapist is always telling you that if you worked on writing, and holding cutlery, and even more boring, pointless shit like pick up sticks, you’d have an easier time, but, whatever, you can type with the pointer finger of your right hand and it gets the job done. chanel visits as often as she can, most days in the late morning, which feels particularly generous in the off season when she could be being glamorous somewhere else, probably invited to paris fashion week or something. she brings makeup — expensive, beautiful makeup — and doesn’t seem to care when you clumsily fuck up lipstick or poke your eye with a mascara wand. you know she brings it so you actually do your occupational therapy exercises, but she also brings you changes of comfortable clothes and washes your hair gently every few days. she lies back in bed with you, long limbed and beautiful, and watches matches when you don’t feel too sad. 
a few days after your eighth surgery, your last, according to your neurosurgeon, you wear a giant back brace over your beatrice xin jersey, your favorite player to watch, and your physical therapy team gets you strapped into this harness that connects to the ceiling so you can try to walk on the treadmill and for sure won’t fall. it kind of feels like you’re doing a stunt or something, and chanel stands there and indulges you with a smile while you make all of your best ‘strapped into a harness’ jokes.
and then — you do walk. it’s slow going, the treadmill barely moving, and your legs feel sluggish and so weak and almost not like your own. it’s been two months since you took a step and it feels like a fucking miracle. chanel wipes a tear or two from her own eyes, even though you can only walk for five minutes and are sweating kind of profusely — it’s a fucking miracle, and she understands it too. 
/
‘what are you frowning at?’
she rolls her eyes and pockets her phone, easily pedaling with insane resistance on the peleton next to you while you struggle to get your legs to listen to your brain and pedal at all. ‘idiot bros on twitter. “trans women don’t belong in women’s sports” and all that bullshit.’
you stop trying to pedal because you’re already entirely unsuccessful today and now you’re not able to focus at all. ‘fuck them.’
she grins. ‘yeah.’
‘i’ll beat them up, just you watch.’
it makes her laugh, and you think she knows you really would physically get into a fight — on or off the field — if anyone ever said anything to her. 
‘plus, i can take you 1v1.’
‘in your dreams, silva.’
‘i’m going to, again. don’t even think i won’t.’
chanel pats your hand; you feel it all. ‘i’ve always known you could do it. i’ve never thought you wouldn’t, ava.’
you duck your head, unused to genuine praise after all this time stuck in the same boring, discouraging, painful rooms at the spine center, even though all of your doctors and nurses and therapists had been nice.
‘but,’ she says, ‘first you gotta pedal on this bike.’
‘it’s hard,’ you whine.
‘you’re just distracted.’
you look at the game you’d turned on, beatrice xin currently with two goals and two assists, and sigh. ‘i’m horny.’
it gets the biggest, best laugh out of chanel, and you feel a little something like pride bloom in your chest: you love making people you care about laugh. 
‘fine, fine,’ you grumble. you look down at your feet, your quads and calves so small and pale compared to six months ago; you try to breathe through the immediate fear and the tiny bit of shame that pops up. but you focus, feel your feet firmly on the pedals, think about how you know how to ride a bike; you know how to stand up straight and put on pants and kick a ball. the back brace you have on feels tight, feels restricting — but you focus on activating your quads, then your hamstrings, and you eventually get the pedals to move.
‘hell yeah,’ chanel says.
‘if you try to give me a high five right now i think i’ll get all scrambled if i try to move my hand.’
she laughs, reaches over and pats the top of your head instead. 
/
‘ava silva,’ chanel says, and you grin; you can’t help it. she holds her phone at a, thankfully, flattering angle as you walk along the beach — slowly, but steady: you trust you won’t fall, that you’re strong enough and getting stronger. ‘what does freedom feel like?’
chanel has like… three million followers, and she loves social media, something that your old club has always been thrilled about. they hadn’t renewed your contract, but you’d understood; they’re still paying for all of your medical care, so you don’t really feel upset, just a sense of loss you’re not quite ready to name. but chanel loves you, and she’s so, so happy for you — even if you never play again, you’re walking and even starting to run now; you’re in pain but it’s manageable. it’s okay.
‘it feels —‘ euphoric; devastating — ‘like a miracle.’
/
you flop down on chanel’s neatly made and extravagent bed; you’ve been staying in her guest room — which she had turned into her closet, so it’s still kind of packed with all of her beautiful clothes, although there is a very expensive bed for you — and training until, hopefully, you can get signed somewhere. she doesn’t even look up from her ipad when you sigh. ‘hello, ava.’
‘i have a favor to ask that i actually think you’ll be interested in.’
she pauses whatever she’s doing, then looks up. ‘i’m listening.’
‘well! okay, so. as you know, i’ve basically only worn hospital gowns and sweats for the last year and a half, and before that, i was, like, a child.’
chanel perks up, and you can practically see the wheels in her head turning already.
‘and now, wherever i get signed, you know, people are gonna care, and want interviews and all this stuff. so, in small part, i want to feel good about how i look for this next chapter of football.’
‘i love it,’ she says. ‘and what’s the large part?’
you flop back again, just for the dramatics. ‘i am… so horny. like, you don’t even understand.’
she laughs. ‘JC is nice though, right?’
‘yeah,’ you say, because he is. ‘but, like, girls.’
she pauses for a second, a happy smile on her face. ‘so, you want to look… more… bisexual?’
‘i mean, i do already? because i am? right?’
‘well, of course, ava.’ it’s gentle and reassuring but still a little amused.
‘but — yeah. like, i want to pick stuff i love, my clothes and my hair and whatever, gain back control, blah blah, everything my therapist is always going on about.’
‘your therapist is great, you love her.’
‘sure.’ she is; you do. ‘so anyway, i just — i guess i just want to feel like myself.’
‘now that,’ chanel says, ‘is a favor i love.’
/
‘you’re sure?’
‘it doesn’t matter if i’m sure,’ chanel says, sitting in the hairdresser’s chair next to yours. you have the salon to yourselves; she’d booked you a private appointment with her hairstylist immediately.
you turn to said stylist, dimitri, with their chic and very neat fade. ‘are you sure?’
‘like chanel said,’ they say. ‘it only matters what you want. we don’t have to do anything big.’
you look in the mirror; you hadn’t had the real opportunity to get a haircut in a long time, being in the hospital and rehab and then spending as much time as you could training after that. you haven’t, really, taken the time to deeply care for yourself, something your therapist has been bothering you about. you want, so badly, to live as big as you can. as much as you can. 
‘well, i’m sure, as long as you think it’ll, like, be good for my face shape or whatever.’
chanel and dimitri share a quick glance and then chanel rolls her eyes. ‘ava, you have to know that you’re beautiful, right?’
you pause for what you feel is an appropriate amount of time. ‘yes.’
‘but since you asked,’ dimitri says, ‘i do think this will be great for your face shape.’
‘alright,’ you say, feeling suddenly very excited and a little buoyed. ‘let’s fucking do it, then.’
chanel cheers and dimitri grins; they wash your hair gently, and you feel a little panicked until chanel starts talking about the threesome she had a few nights ago, which is delightful and grounding enough you stay, fairly easily, in the present of this beautiful, outrageously expensive salon, the control you get to have. not that you’re thrilled about your therapist being completely 100% correct, but… she was right. 
dimitri dries your hair and then combs it out patiently, divides it and then clips up the top part. ‘ready?’
‘definitely.’
chanel grins and it’s easy, so much easier than you knew it would be, to sit and watch yourself become. you’re filled with a sense of joy, this tiny seed that grows as dimitri cuts your hair to your chin precisely, and asks you about your plans for the day, and food you love, and chanel talks about her latest modeling contract — in addition to football, which amazes you in a way that makes you feel proud in the very center of your chest, this incredible person who showed up and helped take care of you. you feel your shoulders relax; you feel your feet firmly in the new sneakers converse had sent you, comfortable and cool; you even take time to feel your butt in the chair with the knowledge that you don’t need to do any pressure reliefs or weight shifts because, when dimitri is done, you’ll be able to stand up and walk and dance and run and even play football. and even if — even if — one day, you couldn’t, you have your friends and your teammates and your life.
‘you look hot, ava,’ chanel says, very genuinely, after dimitri finishes with a leave in, then shows you how to dry your hair and recommends a light oil. 
‘go ahead,’ they say, ‘run your hands through it, all that jazz.’
to touch; to feel. you think you might cry, all of a sudden, with your soft hair that you picked, that you wanted, and chanel takes in your wobbling bottom lip and then tuts and pulls you toward her. because of your height difference, your face is basically smooshed into her chest and, even though you do cry, you laugh too, wet and messy and alive.
‘this probably my favorite place in the world,’ you say.
chanel shoves you playfully and you grin up at her. 
‘thank you.’
she waves you off, as she always does when she’s a little overwhelmed too. ‘don’t thank me yet. now we have to go shopping.’
/
it’s not as bad as you’d feared; despite the fact that chanel only wears the most elegant designer clothes — her closet is full of gucci and bottega and, of course, chanel, and a whole shelf of louboutins — but she also loves you and knows you, deeply, and so when her driver pulls up to a row of a few very cool-looking thrift stores, you have to hug her again. she gives you helpful feedback on pieces and outfits and you feel, quite genuinely, happier than maybe you ever have. you buy crop tops and high waisted, loose jeans and a few sweaters you love; some silly earrings and a necklace and a cap that chanel laughs at, but fondly enough you know it works. you find a men’s button up with a bunch of flames on it and she rolls her eyes but you put it on anyway, knot it at your waist so it feels just above your shorts.
‘do i look bi?’
‘you look a little bit crazy, but i definitely wouldn’t think you’re straight.’
you’re practically shaking with excitement: ‘it’s… flaming. i’m flaming! get it!’
chanel groans. ‘ava,’ she says, but wraps an arm around your shoulders and throws it on the growing pile anyway.
/
you feel happier than maybe you ever have until the next morning, when you come back from a silly game of football on the beach with her and JC and a few of your other friends, your hair spilling out of the tiny bun you’d managed to get it into, which had made you laugh, and sit down to have some burrata — another one of your favorites that chanel indulges in getting for you from time to time, even did while you were in the hospital and she had to put it on little crackers and feed it to you herself — and then accept a call from your agent. you step inside to take it, close the door softly. 
after it’s done, you yank the door open this time, burst onto the patio. all of your nerves are alive; in your shorts, your legs look strong again, tan and muscular and capable.
‘good news?’
you’re almost too excited to explain that you’re getting signed by your favorite club, $6 million for the year, with, if all goes well, an option to extend your contract another season after. a bonus: they just hired dr. jillian salvius, one of the best sports specialists in the world. all of your care will be, of course, included.
chanel starts to cry, which makes you start to cry, and she hugs you to her tightly. 
‘i am so happy for you,’ she says. ‘and i’m really gonna miss you.’
‘i’m gonna miss you too,’ you tell her. 
she backs up and puts her hands on your shoulders, a smile sneaking up her face. ‘you know, i happen to remember your favorite player in the whole entire world playing at a certain club.’
you hadn’t really thought past football and then six million dollars, but — ‘fuck.’
chanel laughs, face beautiful and delicate and rich in the sun. ‘i can’t wait to show her pictures of you in her jersey.’
‘oh god, are there any on my instagram? i have to go check.’
she just keeps laughing, and it’s all brimming, so wonderful, right at your fingertips.
/
you sign a few days later, your hands steady.
/
‘well,’ chanel asks, lounging back in bed on zoom, ‘how was day one?’
‘oh my god.’ your hair is still wet from the shower you took at the training grounds; you had raced back to your new apartment to make sure you were on time for your call. ‘i got there early, to play a little bit, get the nerves out, you know. and guess who was there and wanted to play 1v1?’
she grins. ‘no fucking way.’
‘i got schooled, obviously,’ you say, think of the way beatrice xin had moved with the ball, how surely she went into tackles, how precise she was. ‘i did score twice, though, and nutmegged her once. greatest football moment of my life, i’m pretty sure.’
‘what’s she like?’
you think chanel is probably humoring you, but you don’t care. ‘beatrice is… beautiful.’ it’s really the only word you have: her neat bun that stayed in place perfectly other than a few errant strands by the end of the session today; her clipped, lovely accent; the way her calves had looked while she was sprinting; the delicate lines of her face; her freckles and her eyes; how she had been serious and professional but kind; her strong back, muscles rippling under her skin in a way that made you shiver, in the locker room when she had untucked her quarterzip and pulled it over her head; how she seemed lonely, despite it all. ‘she’s really beautiful.’
/
it’s a while later when the sheer mortification dawns on you, but then beatrice, in her weird, hot, hilarious way, seems to dissipate the extreme embarrassment you’re going to be faced with by being embarrassing first.
‘hello, chanel.’ she reaches out her hand very seriously, in her favorite linen jumpsuit and a very expensive pair of off-white dunks and black, cat eye sunglasses that are honestly cooler than you expected, in front of her favorite nice brunch place. chanel shoots you a glance and then shakes bea’s hand firmly while you both try not to laugh. 
‘hey, it’s great to meet you.’
‘you, as well,’ bea says. ‘i — before we sit, i just wanted to extend my admiration, for the work you have done both on and off the field for trans equity in our sport.’
it’s so serious, and so genuine, chanel seems a little disarmed and a little affected. ‘thank you.’
bea nods once, seriously. ‘and, maybe more importantly, even, my deep gratitude, for caring for ava. she’s spoken so highly of you, and it means — i love her,’ bea decides on, after a pause. ‘i’m glad, immeasurably so, that she has people who love her too.’
chanel suspiciously sniffles. ‘can i give you a hug? is that weird?’
bea smiles, a real smile, your favorite, and opens her arms. you resist the urge, passionately, to make a joke about how the two hottest (sorry, lilith) women you know together is really gonna do it for you during your alone time later, which is honestly a fucking feat.
‘well,’ chanel says, ‘i made a presentation of every embarrassing thing ava has done that you should know about.’
‘oh no.’
bea loops her arm with chanel when she gallantly offers, and bea says, ‘oh yes.’ you trail behind them, feeling short and small and bursting with happiness. chanel orders basically the entire menu for you to try and she and bea laugh at your expense when chanel opens her phone and does, indeed, have an entire canva presentation of you being embarrassing, but you don’t really mind at all. the sun warms your shoulders and you drink champagne that costs way too much money, the bubbles bright on your tongue. chanel laughs and bea puts her hand on your thigh, just like that: you feel it all.
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Still loving the newest addition to the Happy Accidents series & your last chapter got me thinking about a potential scene I would love to hear from your perspective (or maybe you’ve already written it & I’ve just got to be patient…)
In the last chapter you mentioned Sara’s PTSD & Grissom was so sweet. Particularly this part “She knows why he is worried: Over the years, he has learned to associate nerviness in her with periods when her mental health is poor. She isn’t usually quick to startle, but during the times when her PTSD is bad—around anniversaries—she can be. She gets so in her own head that anything happening outside has the potential to shock.”
It got me thinking about how in this alternate universe, Sara would be about 6-7 months pregnant when the anniversary of her abduction came & I would love to read her thoughts on that & how Grissom helps her deal with it. Does it cause her to reflect on how different her life looks now than a year ago? Does she think about all the reasons she didn’t give up in the desert? Does she feel the baby kick & is brought out of her thoughts, grateful for how her life looks?
And if you’ve already written a scene like this…I’ll sit over here (im)patiently waiting.
hi, @chelsshearman!
good to hear from you again! i'm so glad to know you're enjoying the story so far.
i've taken a while to come up with an answer to your (very thoughtful) question, and though i can't show any prose from that part of the story just yet without revealing some major accidentsverse spoilers, i can offer you a more pared down answer after the "keep reading," if you're interested.
note: in order to avoid major accidentsverse spoilers, i purposefully use ambiguous language surrounding sara's pregnancy in this answer.
__
sara knows from experience: trauma doesn't adhere to a strict calendar.
sometimes exact anniversaries are bad, but other times the days and weeks surrounding are when the cptsd symptoms really hit.
november has historically been a crapshoot for her, any day—not just the exact anniversary of her father's murder—liable to be a bad one, the whole month something of a slog.
though she is hopeful: now that her wedding anniversary falls mid-month, maybe she'll have better associations going forward.
she is well-aware of this temporal idiosyncrasy in her brain, and so is her therapist, which is why he starts counseling with her in mid-april about what to anticipate come may, for what will be the first anniversary of her abduction by natalie davis.
admittedly, she is, at this point, distracted. not only is there a lot going on in her life pregnancy-wise, but things are busier than ever at work. by now, she is no longer in the field and has instead become the de facto "point person" for her teammates at the lab, which, contrary to what she had expected, has somehow upped her caseload. still, she tries her best to complete her therapy assignments with what few spare hours she has. is diligent about going in for sessions. practices all of the self-care techniques her therapist recommends. stays on top of taking her meds. makes sure to look after herself as well as she can.
—and especially because grissom is so obviously worried about her.
not only does he admit as much outright, sans prompting, but he also is so careful with her. he had already been wonderfully attentive, but now she hardly even has to think she might want something before he appears to offer it. she swears to god: the man is telepathic. also, far too sweet.
thankfully, as the calendar turns over into may, there are some fun, new pregnancy developments to help to take her mind off the impending anniversary: grissom is finally able to feel kicking. (for a long time, she had felt fetal movements internally, but they hadn't been detectable in any external way.) also, a first instance of fetal hiccups, which is just about the weirdest, coolest sensation she has ever experienced.
that said, about two weeks before the big anniversary™, she does start experiencing some "trauma residuals" from her abduction. she's not having flashbacks or nightmares or full-on panic attacks, per se; she just feels off. spacey. emotionally unbalanced. like everything in her head has just been shifted two inches to the left of where it should be.
she keeps expecting to have some kind of big breakdown at some point, but the catharsis doesn't ever come.
and, honestly, the lack of punctuation is what bothers her more than anything.
she confides in grissom: she's scared. she tried to get out ahead of her trauma by "doing all the right things," but she is still being affected, not in any obvious, dramatic way but enough so that her trauma is inarguably impacting her behavior. coworkers keep asking her if she’s okay. looking like they don’t fully believe her when she says she is. she can’t help but be concerned: what if the same thing happens a few years on from now? the last thing in the world she would ever want to do to her child(ren) is make them feel like mommy's sad or upset for no reason.
so she and grissom talk the issue through: they both agree that trauma is a fickle thing—particularly as trauma reactions can't always be pinned down to one day or easily predicted in terms of how they'll manifest. show great variance in intensity, duration, form, etc. also can't be totally prevented, even if one tries to account for them as much as possible. chances are, she will be dealing with after effects—from her childhood, from her abduction—for the rest of her life.
sara explains: logically, she knows all of these things. but she still doesn't want their child(ren) to suffer for having a traumatized parent. she has experience that way with her own mother. remembers how helpless she felt when she was little, watching her mother struggle; how much she internalized her mother's sadness and anger. though as an adult, she (mostly) knows better now, back then, she wondered if she caused or exacerbated her mother’s misery and questioned why she wasn't enough to make her mother happier.
here, grissom digs in: "and did your mother ever answer those questions for you?"
her silence tells him no.
grissom offers his postulate: the truth might have helped—not by making sara’s mother “magically better” but by allowing sara, even as a child, to contextualize the situation and understand her mother's mental health conditions existed independent of anything having to do with her. just hearing, in no uncertain terms, that her mother wasn’t sad for any reason having to do with her may have alleviated some of her misplaced guilt.
sara agrees: they should be honest with their child(ren) and explain things at a level they can understand.
but she still worries: it will be a long time yet before they can have those kinds of honest conversations. what will happen in the meanwhile? babies pick up on their caretakers' cues and moods, after all. she doesn’t want to do damage by exuding sadness or fear in their child(ren)’s presence.
grissom reassures her: in all the time they've been together, even during periods when her mental health has been at its poorest ("even in november"), he has always felt loved by and safe with her. he has not been oblivious to her sadness and fear. but he also has never felt that those reactions in her negated her affections. he suspects their child(ren) will feel the same.
still, she makes him promise: if she ever gets to the point where she can't be a good caretaker of their child(ren), he'll intervene. "that was part of the problem," she explains, "with my parents. no matter how miserable things got, no one said anything or did anything about it. no one asked for help. we all just sat there with it."
grissom agrees: they'll ask for help if they need it. offer help when they see it's needed, even if it hasn't been asked for. and neither one of them will give up.
the promise does make sara feel somewhat better.
—though, of course, it doesn’t fully alleviate her cptsd symptoms.
may proves to be a hard month, not only because of the trauma but for other reasons, too.
[insert major accidentsverse spoilers here]
but it also is not without happy moments—sometimes impossibly happy, like the first time they see a footprint, clearly discernible for what it is, show through the skin of her belly—and, most importantly, never without love.
she reflects: one year ago, she was alone in a desert, sure she was going to die. now, she is never alone, and she has never been surer of what she has to live for. lying in bed with grissom, his hand over the footprint protruding slightly below her navel, she feels a kind of peace she could never have imagined she would feel, just one year on from that day. she knows: what happened to her will stay with her for the rest of her life—will sometimes rear up in unaccountable ways—but it won’t be what defines her. won’t be the main throughline in her story. she’s writing that one herself, here, now. and she loves where her story is headed.   
thanks for the question! please feel welcome to send another any time.
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fairycosmos · 1 year
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do you ever feel like you know you need therapy but you feel like it won't work on you? like i've had Problems since i was a child and i've been on the internet long enough to research and learn most if not all the most common tricks and tips that a therapist would give me so i feel like, apart from maybe giving me meds, it would be a colossal waste of money.. i still know that i need help somehow because i've been rawdogging life for the past 25 years and im Tired, but it feels pointless to spend more money than i have for someone to tell me i need to get away from my abusive family and ~ practice mindfulness ~ lol
absolutelyyyy ive had this feeling and honestly i think meeting therapists you're incompatible with only intensifies that thought process like.....ive had these lifelong problems and you want me to spend my hard earned money that could be going to rent or food on some stranger that is telling me to breathe through my deeply rooted illnesses? it absolutely IS frustrating and i think your feelings of discouragement/burnout/exhaustion are completely understandable. the field of psychology has so many fucking issues that are fed directly into how MH professionals work with patients. im not even sure i have like an answer or a solution to it because i struggle with this exact same thing!
but i guess what i would say is that its important not to discredit the fact that every therapist works differently and every counselling experience is wildly different. you may very well know all the common tricks and tips for dealing with your specific state of mind (i totally agree btw, the internet had made me extremely hyperaware of my own mental issues for better and for worse LOL), but there is always something solid to be offered when you find a professional you feel comfortable talking to, who offers an outsiders insight. even if it's just getting a weight off your shoulders for that one afternoon. therapist shopping is extremely expensive and obviously inaccessible to most, so im not suggesting that - i guess my main point would be don't give up on ALL forms of mental health support available in your community hust because working with a few professionals didn't work out, bc it's so so common and it doesn't mean youre doomed or beyond help. you will always deserve that space to talk and to feel heard, even if you can half-guess what they might tell you in response. it's unfathomably difficult to find a strong, consistent therapist that you bode well with (i would give anything for one LOL) but i do think they're out there and that there are useful tools to be found in therapy or counselling or even just reaching out and being vulnerable in general. what i have tried to accept recently is that asking for help isn't going to solve any of my problems - it is not going to make things normal or easy because i have a neurodivergent brain and i have truly been traumatised. it is just gonna give me the tools and the suggestions i need to get through the day. and i still haven't found that myself - but i think it's likely that it's out there. and it's a step up from rawdogging life, if not a solution to life itself.
im sorry, i know this is not the perfect example or anything close to it. i myself breakdown often because i feel like it's so hopeless and difficult and relentlessly painful. but i urge you to always be open to accepting help if and when it is in front of you. even if it seems pointless. sending a massive hug your way. X
resource / resource/ resource / resource
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mysisters-bike · 9 hours
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hello, i apologize if this question is a bit too personal— but i was wondering something since i read your post on eric harris not being a psychopath. you mention your credentials and your career path.. i was wondering how you went about getting a career in that field? i’m interested in pursuing a similar career, but i have no idea what to major in or the specifics of anything. thank you !
im so excited for you! if you do end up pursuing this line of work, i wish you the very best. it’s very rewarding!
my original plan was to be a teacher so when i began in college, i was doing a lot of liberal-arts adjacent schooling. eventually i took a criminology class as an elective and really enjoyed. after that, i actually dropped out of college for a few years and just worked for a while. my sister was getting her degree in psychology and i was encouraged to go back, so off i went and began my bachelor’s. at first, i was just planning on being a therapist for the every day person, but i couldn’t shake the enjoyment i had when i took the criminology class. plus, growing up in a true-crime heavy locale always had me very intrigued. because of its proximity, columbine was the case that i fixated on and studied as i was going through my bachelor’s. about halfway through i solidified what i wanted to do but didn’t have the experience to get there quite yet. i made sure all classes i took were forensic-related so my knowledge has always been more specialized in that area. i just kept trying and throwing resumes at agencies until something stuck lmao.
i had to take a step back and take an entry level position to get where i wanted to eventually be, so i worked with at-risk youth for quite some time. i transitioned into working with adult offenders eventually. i will say that i always knew i didn’t want to work on the pre-sentencing side of forensic psychology, i always knew i wanted to be on the back side working with people who had already offended.
there’s many things one can do with psychology in the forensic/correctional field! don’t stop pursuing your dreams. if you know it’s what you want, it WILL happen and there are a million doors you can go through to get there. one size does not fit all in this particular field. some folks have no interest in working with offenders and would rather be on judicial side of things. that’s okay too, all work here is important.
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gayfrogcoven · 2 years
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OH MY GODDD I WATCHED OTWAT AND IT WAS LITERALLY EVERYTHING I’D HOPED IT WOULD BE
• ok let me try to remember stuff in order
• uh what’s up with the Collector
• i wonder why Amity’s penstagram was taken away?
• i hadn’t realized this episode would start with Luz and King not yet knowing about the owl house…
• NOT FRANÇOIS
• what exactly did Eda and Lilith plan to do? just not tell the kids where they were?
• “I’VE EATEN ICE CREAM WITH A GOD” i love Lilith she’s such a dork
• “he’s a Clawthorne, and technically your nephew” “i’m a god’s aunt!” all these familial namedrops in the latest episodes we HAVE to get King calling Eda his mom soon
• “the kids deserve one nice day before they realize how dire things are” ok well bye don’t mind me over here sobbing
• “maybe if we had time for 20 more adventures, but we don’t” oh i see that dig at Disney, Dana
• KING AND STEVE FIELD TRIP!!
• no really the driving around in peaceful plains and playing on the beach and stuff was really nice and King deserves that (also the music in that scene was really pretty)
• HOOTYCOPTER
• “this is for my kids. they can’t be around during the Day of Unity. put them in a castle bunker, get them on an airship, i don’t care, just keep them safe. if you do, i’ll give myself up right now.” ok if i was sobbing before
• ew Terra
• “Eda? are you sending me away?” NO NO NO BUT WHAT IF THIS REMINDS HER OF GETTING SENT AWAY TO CAMP BY HER MOM
• idk if i breathed during the Eda and Luz fight scene at all
• STEVE FACE REVEAL REAL
• “i can recommend a good therapist” PLEASE they all need it. seriously though i’m glad they acknowledged that there’s a reason for Lily acting like that to King and it’s because she was trained to do so since she was a teenager
• “me and Lilith don’t have magic and we don’t have allies. we’re useless. we have you and King. so i was gonna do anything to make sure that you were safe. but now… it’s all over.” A: this episode is SERVING Mom Eda huh B: THE DELIVERY ON THOSE LINES THE WAY HER VOICE BREAKS AT “it’s all over”
• i will forever and i mean forever be screaming over this frame
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• “so, you must be the famous human witch. Eda’s been bragging about you for hours. i’m Raine.” RAINE IS FINALLY MEETING EDA’S KIDS THIS IS NOT A DRILL
• the idea of Raine and Darius annoying the fuck out each other in school too is so funny to me i love them
• THE CATS THE CATS THE CATS I’M NEVER SHUTTING UP ABOUT THAT EVER and Darius hates it so much and the “everything’s coming full circle” IM WHEEZING
• them them them them them:
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• LUZ IS CARVING HER PALISMAN WITH EDA
• “we’ve got all the time in the world” brb sobbing again
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fraener · 3 months
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2/7/24
had very hard week just now...h got sick and it freaked me out so bad that i made myself sicker than him with worry. my anxiety absolutely consumed me, it began last weekend with a series of small anxiety attacks that i managed just fine with and then a terrible multi day panic attack from h getting sick. my ibs was the worst its ever been and i felt so awful i couldnt calm down no matter what i did. i kept having recurring dreams of evading getting sick and then just having to accept it was goin to happen to me...i wanted to believe it was a dream drought and they werent premonitory but in the end i got sick too! it was such a cathartic experience i still cant fully believe it happened...it was physically unpleasant for sure but h took such good care of me i honestly had an amazing time. i didnt get even as sick as he did with it but i was sick for a bit longer like usual, somehow i get through things low and slow these days whereas he gets through then fast and hard. i think today my stomach is finally all the way back to normal. im glad i didnt actually throw up but at the same time theres a lot of parts of me that are really disappointed it didnt happen because it would have been extra cathartic if it had. from this ive managed to get a little bit of peace. im still feeling bothered from my ibs episode, therapist says i have to go to the doctor about it and im sort of frightened to do that. not only because im scared theyll find something, but also because the imaging procedures are often unpleasant and scary...still struggling with pttm and d/m trying to override everything. but i had a flash of wanting to draw something for the first time in over a year which was huge, and while i was sick i felt full of excitement and freedom, and yesterday evening i walked for a long time to the northernmost point in the twin bays and the sky felt so broad and i felt so calm like i did in the field behind the radio station on the island or home at my grandmas in co... big sense of peace right around the corner. im changing little by little and coming back to myself after a long time. i saw white salal and pink hazel flowers and the osoberry and snowdrops and witch hazel and red flowering currant are all blooming now. the chorus frogs are croaking. spring is frighteningly early this year but for some reason i feel ok about it. im really nervous itll be terribly terribly hot this summer, like the first summer i lived in this apartment. i suppose all i have to do is wait and see. it would be poetic for the last summer to be like the first one. im graduating this summer, i dont know what to do with myself next. im trying not to think of it being so big and empty on the other side of that. somehow i still never got to do all of the things i wouldve liked to here, not like in high school where i managed everything i wanted and more. ive been having dreams about r again recently, i suppose hes on my mind. i saw him from afar a couple of times in the last week or so. the runes and cards say we have some kind of unknown relationship that isnt approachable yet but is bubbling and forming under the surface in a big way, but undetermined in its gestation because neither of us know what we want from one another. another thing to wait and see about. i want to let go and paint again.
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87435678753256732 · 11 months
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MAY '23!!
haillo,
its already June 8th, which means May flew by so quickly. I didn't read or skim past my last entry. mostly because im sure of what I wrote down for April. and its all happy stuff!! im sitting now in the kitchen table of my boyfriends apartment, and it feels a bit strange to complete this entry somewhere public. Athough I have done it at work before everyone arrived, I guess it felt scary but now it feels okay. like there's nothing to worry about. I will be starting school soon, around three months to be exact. Im feeling different emotions, but im sure about what im doing. sometimes my autistic traits strike me down and I feel that I am not socially competent as other people in my field. Guess thats just my own take on imposter syndrome. hearing from people in the field that are younger than me think im much older due to my experience/ the way I present myself is interesting, flattering maybe? idk. time will pass anyway, so I can either be in 2026 with a degree or 2026 with no degree, whallaa!! sometimes I wonder if the better route would be in some field where I don't need as much human interaction, but then I remember that I love people!! I love chatting and hearing about my close pals days, even if I get stuck and have no clue what to bring up or respond. My therapist also broke up with me over a month ago. Not sure if I added that to the past entry. I understand why, im not bitter, but I am working on processing things on my own without relying on a therapist to listen to me in the middle of the week. I am glad that I have connected good friends with her, and I have been Able to see the progress!! It def helped me in ways that I am seeing now. even my old therapist who wasn't in touch helped impact my life in a way. I guess she listened and was the only one listening. WOOPS! Now im sitting on this black table as I complete the entry for may. the month of may was great. I was able to hang out with my friends, enjoy work, and hang out with my boyfriend. I was able to fall deeper in love, and enjoy all the little things in life that I had taken for granted. its strange walking in the chilling morning, hearing all the birds chip as I drink my warm coffee. Not that nature itself is strange, but Its strange that im finally in a point in my life in which my thoughts no longer overwhelm me. I still have my fears, and I am trying my best to work on them. One of them being my fear of abandonment. a part of my brain tries (the evollll part) tries to convince me that I do not deserve the happiness im feeling right now. that for some reason, things will get worse and I will once again fall. Its like premeditating my next depressive episode. I hate it. I try doing some CBT on myself and try to grasp why the irrational thoughts I have are only that, irrational. I really wish I didn't think this way, why do I not believe that I deserve good things? is it my jealousy convincing me that my hot boyfriend has people on a waitlist? idk LOL. I hope to be able to overcome these thoughts one day. Hopefully that will be soon. I know that I cannot keep these thoughts to myself, so I am open about them with my bf. I appreciate the validation I get, and am thankful that his reactions to my DIY processing aren't negative. I hope to reach a point where I don't rethink my thoughts before I tell him. I feel that way currently, but I guess closer. Its terrible to hear my coworkers/friends speak about the issues they have with their partners. overall it looks like they all revolve money somehow. what I find interesting is that it tends to come more from people who grew up well off?? not sure what it is. but I feel like if you truly love and care for someone, spending money on them shouldn't hurt?? especially if you're not poor and broke asf. even poor people find ways to show their love!! its crazy. anyways, thats all I've got. see you in JULLYYY
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sharkywithascarf · 2 years
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Old writings from when I was 11. Part 1
I think this one was inspired by my favorite song ‘tip toe threw the tulips’ and Insidious and this is like word for word what i wrote lol
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3/2/1984-I ran threw the field, I knew they was following me I could hear the mocking, cruel voice, I knew I could not escape, death was so close I could almost feel it, maybe if I stop, my death will be less extreme, oh how I wish I had been able to convince my parents to move away, why couldn’t I be more persistent, why did I listen to those fake promises, why did I pleasurably listen to their cruel symphony, but I can’t focus on the past I have to focus on escaping this hellish nightmare
10/31/1983- it was early morning, I was in the front of the the moving truck sitting next to my mom, we were going to my new house, I didn’t exactly want to move but what happens, happens i guess, sucks I can’t see my friends but who needs them, when I got to the house i had this gut feeling something was off, of course I’m not dumb I voiced this to my mom, she said and I quote, “dear, I don’t wanna be here either, but please give this a try, we just need to last till I can afford to divorce your father.” My father was not the nicest he controlled everything we did he was a mega b^tch, my mom was a angel I’d do anything for her, I decided to give this place a try.
11/3/1983-Im pretty sure im crazy.... today i was home alone, my father went to work and my mother went to the farmers market, so I was in the backyard working on some flower seeds I decided to plant when I heard this.. music... now I had a record player in my home but it wasn’t on, oh my god is someone in my house, I look threw my windows and see a person dancing to a song.... WHAT THE EVER LIVING! I needed to go to the police, what if she wanted to kill me, I’m to awesome to die! I ran to the police office, idc if it’s to far away! I might die! After I go to them, they inspected the house and found nothing and assumed that I was crazy! I explained they might’ve left after they found out their victim but they told me no criminal in there right mind would dance to a loud song waiting for their victim.... I know somethings up I need to get out of here
12/13/1983- after that incident nothing happened for awhile till today i had gotten home from hanging out with some of my friends, I saw letters on my bed, in hand writing I couldn’t read well I could read a few words but they were foreign , now I’m sure I’m crazy, after the incident my mother had gotten a therapist for me to make sure i wasn’t going mad, they words I could read were “run” “love” and “death”.... did I write these? No I know I didn’t, I didn't, I didn't, I don’t think I did, no... no I know I didn’t.
1/4/1984- I’ve been getting roses on my door steps the color was a pitch black, I didn’t know black roses existed... I never brought the in the house I was to well worried, I didn’t know who gave them to me, who knows what it could have been made with I know there are no black roses, it could be painted but who in their right minds would do that? I kept throwing the roses away
2/19/1984- IM SO TIRED OF IT, the roses won’t stop coming... WHY CANT IT JUST STOP, what madman would do this, i find one in the morning i go inside with it inside and start ripping it up I hope they see this, once I figure it’s had enough I throw it in the trash, after that I go hang out with my friends.
3/1/1984- I’m so frightened after the day I disgraced whatever being, my life has been tragic, my mother had gone ill, my best friends were getting distanced the only person I have is my therapist, I now enjoy their presence it’s comforting... but my dad wants me to stop, saying I’ll be fine, but I don’t want them to leave! I want them to stay with me
3/2/1984- as I remember those moments, tears fall from my eyes, i wish I had times to apologize, to my mom, my friends and my therapist, they won’t be happy with what I’m about to do... I suddenly stop, I want this to end and if that means dying then I’m fine with it, whatever hell can end and I can finally be free from everything.... suddenly the air gets colder and I know it’s here..
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Broski this is the cringest thing I’ve read but it’s not all I have art of the girl in the story I found it in my old isbpaint on my old iPad lol
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I like the concept and the design but the drawing needs work but it’s good I think soooo have a good day lol bye
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neeksknocks · 6 years
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at this point im just 30% commitment issues, 34% abandonment issues, 35% trust issues, and 1% unconditional love
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whumphoarder · 4 years
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hi! sorry if you already have a rec list for this, but do you have any outsider pov fics? like i read this one series with peters physics teacher which was super cool so if u know of any others kinda like that or of civilians that spidey has helped? i also super enjoyed ur school nurse one lol
Five Time Faculty Members Had to Call Peter's Emergency Contact + 1 Time He Shows Up Anyway by kingdomfaraway
“Peter,” Jim started, “if you’re more comfortable with your Aunt, we can reschedule for another time.”
“Nonsense,” Tony said, speaking before Peter could. “She’s a very busy woman, I, on the other hand, have all the time in the world.”
Jim kept eye contact with Peter, who just nodded. “It’s fine, I’m sure he would show up anyway…”
Tony gave a very smug grin to both Peter and then to Jim.
Everyday Superhero by stoneage_woman
When a field trip to Stark Industries ends in disaster, Roger Harrington finds himself faced with an impossible choice. Suddenly, Tony Stark is shoving an NDA in his face while Peter Parker stares at him with terrified, desperate eyes. Nothing in his 13-year teaching career could have prepared Harrington for this, but he knows one thing for sure: ten years ago, he'd stared down into the sightless eyes of a seventeen-year-old girl, and he'd sworn to himself that he would never again lose another student. He's going to do everything in his power to keep that promise now…even if it costs him everything.
Set during and post Spider-Man Homecoming. A realistic field trip story that also explores the long-term consequences of trauma and responsibility, written by a real-life teacher.
Big Secrets, And Other Things To Talk To Your Therapist About by Aimael
How Dr Lauren McKinley, psychologist, randomly acquired not one, but two new clients of the superhero kind, because she was a little too curious to say no.
Mutants by sameuspegasus
All teachers dread parent-teacher night. This one's worse than usual.
Feat. Boundaries? I don't know this word. He's not my boyfriend! Flash Thompson's A+ parents Tony and Peter are enormous nerds Gym class is important Oh my God, what's that in the bio lab
IM Spotter by Gyptian
Floriana has headed up the IM Spotter club, New York branch for years, in a certain cafe with a very good view of Stark Tower. Never has she dreamed of having such a special guest, however.
Open for Business by @opal-earrings
Jake likes his night shift at the gas station in the middle of nowhere because nothing ever happens. The only reason he took the job is because nothing ever happens.
But then something actually does. A teenager comes in covered in blood and asking to use his phone, and somehow that’s not the strangest thing that's going to happen during his shift tonight.
research and disaster by blueh
The interns at Stark Industries have some questions about Peter Parker. The answers aren’t quite what they expect.
A Good Kid by kuragay
Ricky thinks that May's an exceptional woman, and he thinks that Peter's an exceptional kid. But there's no denying that the Parker household is full of mysteries, and most of them are centered around Peter and his supposed internship with Tony Stark.
“Is that a cat?” (no, it’s a kitten.) by zimnokurw
Mel, intern of Stark Industries founds a kitten, but if she wants to help her, she have to take Molly (yeah, so she named her already, problem?) to the company. But that's only four hours so nobody will even notice anything! Well, a kid noticed. And FRIDAY, and then Mr. Hogan and Dr. Stark. And suddenly she's screwed. Or is she?
When In Doubt, Blame Spider-Man by @ambivalentmarvel
Peter finds a ten-year-old friend out in the cold near his group home and decides to take action.
Peter Parker: Intern Cryptid by Karu_Ambrogio
The 5 college level interns, who actually interacted with Tony Stark himself on occasion, would be jealous of the 16 year old Peter Parker appearing from nowhere and being the obvious favorite if they weren't so busy being terrified by him.
Progress Report by sameuspegasus
Ms. Warren has some questions for Tony Stark regarding the exact nature of Peter's internship. She gets invited to the lab to see for herself.
Love, hate on by @madasthesea
She’d planned for this moment for two years, seven months, and eighteen days: As she’d stood above her daughter’s freshly dug grave, she’d decided that Tony Stark would die by her hand. And now was her moment.
She had only intended to grab Stark, tell him what he’d done that merited the punishment she was going to give, and kill him fast before anyone started looking. But here was this kid, an act of providence.
She didn’t have to tell Stark now, she could show him. She could make him suffer like she’d suffered, make him pay for his crimes. An eye for an eye, a child for a child.
Should’ve Stuck with Bed, Bath & Beyond by @whumphoarder
Having recently quit a high-stress job at the local ER, Patrick Carmichael—the rookie nurse at Midtown School of Science and Technology—is ready to settle into a nice quiet life of handing out band-aids and ice packs and collecting students’ mandatory sports physical forms.
Unfortunately, he's about to meet Peter Parker.
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mjalti · 4 years
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I really love your approach and your "take it or leave it" attitude and I'm hoping you might have some definitive advice to share. I'm in a competitive medical program and Im one of the top students. I use to be way more self confident, but the difficulty and demand of the program is really wearing me thin. Also my unrealistic desire and expectation to be the best. I question every interaction I have, I doubt my approach, I wonder if I'm saying the right thing, I want to perform perfectly. Other sources are just telling me to practice self care and yet that is meaningless to me. I know I'm a resilient and compassionate person who has plenty to be proud of, but I just feel so uncomfortable in my own skin. I have a really supportive partner and a good job, but I feel like nothing I do is good enough (even when my grades and feedback say otherwise) and I use to be a lot happier with my lot in life. How do I settle back into myself?
“I want to perform perfectly.” really sticks out to me, we’ll get into it in a minute.
 i’m not sure if you’re questioning your approach within your field/ your decisions you make within that or if you’re questioning the depth of your knowledge. medicine is an EVER-evolving field and if you are questioning “how much you know” in the grand scheme of things--that is WONDERFUL. that is the mark of you truly understanding the complexity of the field you have the honor of practicing in & it is a trait that you should keep. stay curious. if you are doubting your decisions in the clinical context, always feel free to ask a colleague to glance at your work, just make yourself say “hey would you do anything different on this?” and get a second pair of eyes to look over your train of thought. You are a medical STUDENT, you aren’t competing with the doctors who have 40 years of been-there-done-that experience. You are still in the “going there” phase. Have compassion with yourself & remind yourself that if getting this experience was easy, it would be disrespectful to the people who have dedicated their lives trying to get good at it. 
next i want to remind you; everyone you meet is a series of impressions you have of them, not necessarily reflecting what they’re going through. even the most confident person you will interact with in your field, had a medical student phase where everything was overwhelming, intense, and over their heads. the only difference between them and the others was that they kept going. 
I am really happy to hear that you have a supportive partner. Have you been open to them about what you are going through or do you feel like a burden? It sounds like you have great intentions, but you have allowed this negative thinking to start to isolate you from your partner. You should not be living two lives in your head. [except riding dinosaurs while you’re taking a shower, but that’s understandable, cool and totally normal, i swear.]
“Self care” for high achievers is its own animal because the very things that cause us so much damage are the things which, in controlled portions, we are told bring us success & happiness. It becomes so difficult to put a hard stop on things that burn us out when the positive reinforcement is so loud, so vivid, so all-encompassing. I bring back your statement: “I want to perform perfectly.” To perform is to act, not to be. It seems like you struggle with wanting to be everything for everyone but when it comes to you being your own side, you give yourself the scraps of what’s left from a long day-- and let’s be honest here: it’s usually nothing. 
You seem to be very good at helping others, but how does that translate to helping yourself? 
Start by defining simple things:
when was the last time you felt happy/at peace/confident? 
what were you doing, who were you with, what were you thinking?
what has significantly changed from that time to now? did you move? did you become jaded with a certain aspect? when did you start feeling the way you feel now? could you reach out to your partner for some help with answering these questions, as they could have more insight into your behavior [we observe and analyze the people we love endlessly, we observe the nuance]?
What is something you do for YOU, regardless of how productive it is, how good at it you are, how much other people respect it?
when was the last time you did something new, without it being related to your profession or being prompted by your partner? 
There are so many things going on, there is so much of yourself that you bring to this equation which is hidden from me, that I cannot provide you a solution in a gift-wrapped box but I can hopefully provide some outside perspective. I think you would really benefit from some sessions with a compatible therapist who can help you answer those questions above with some guided exercises. What you are going through is not going to go away like it arrived; spontaneously. You have to have the tools and resources to tell it to leave. I think you owe it to yourself to invest in yourself, to find a way to learn to make sense and peace with the chaos that’s trying to come in between you and your best life. Being proactive about this is the best self-care possible, and even you coming to me anonymously on the internet is a big step in the right direction, especially because it doesn’t sound like this is something you often bring up. 
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aries-writingblog · 3 years
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Atlas (1)
Summary: After years of being imprisoned on the Raft, Tony negotiates freedom for his sister Tessa. When she’s free- so is her past, and it will never stop hunting her.
Pairing: Bucky Barnes x OC(Stark)
Chapter Word count: 1,666
Warnings: PTSD (subtle ish), trauma, torture (in later parts), suicidal behaviors and thoughts, mentions of death, character death, injury, violence, angst, and a lil bit of fluff in there
Disclaimer: Atlas is my own, original work with characters belonging to Marvel (except Tessa and Dr. Clifton). Plagiarism is not cool kids.
A/N: this is my first work Im posting to this platform and I’m really excited and nervous about it. Hope you enjoy- constructive criticism is always helpful as well!!
The Avengers Tower. Former Stark Tower. 93 floors of office space, labs- people carrying out their business. People going about their day. At the top of all of them is Tony Stark. Waiting. Waiting in silence. Typically, he isn’t one to wait on anything or anyone but today... today is different. Today is special. Finally, the silence is broken by a shrill ring of his phone. Tony snaps it up, immediately accepting the call.
“Mr. Stark? Reid Kerrings.” The man’s voice carried through the phone, introducing himself. “Listen, I hear you’re trying to to negotiate a prisoners freedom?”
“She shouldn’t even be a prisoner,” Tony grumbled before plastering on a thick business tone. “Yes, that’s what I’m trying to do here. Thing is, I have a plan that I ran by Fury and Coulson and they seem to think it’s a great idea. Only thing is- that prisoner of yours is apparently ‘dangerous’ and she’d need stipulations on if she were to be released into my care.”
Tony hated this- speaking about her as if she were a terrorist. He hated that she’d been in maximum security prisons for six years. He hated that she was on the raft now. But, if he wanted to play ball, he had to agree to the terms. And unfortunately, that was one of the terms. He’d tried it his way two years ago and it got shut down. Several times.
“Well... you’re a damn maniac- prisoner 067112 is a psycho-“
“Her name is Tessa and that’s my sister you’re talking about so if you’d like to see your job another day I’d keep quiet.” Tony snapped, clenching his jaw. The phone fell silent before Kerrings cleared his throat.
“She would have to meet with an appointed therapist three days a week. She would also have to have a check in twice a week with a parole officer. If there is any flare up of her enhancement that is not accounted for by a member of your team, she comes back here and is no longer allowed parole. She is to be on a tight leash.” Kerrings read through the conditions of the agreement that Tony and Fury had worked out. “She must agree to these terms before her release. If she does, she will be escorted to your property tomorrow at 10:00 AM. Do you agree to these statements made today?”
“Yes.” Tony felt an excited, nervous bubble form in his stomach. He was doing it. His sister was almost free.
“Excellent. The escort team will run a security check on the building and perimeter.”
“Oh, well, not to brag or anything but- it’s the Avengers Tower. I ’m pretty sure this is the best it gets in terms of security.” Tony scoffed, turning when he heard the door opening. Steve Rogers stepped into the room, intending on speaking with Tony about another comm unit. He broke his. Again. He stopped short, hearing the man on the phone.
“This woman shouldn’t even be out of her cell here- she’s dangerous, I don’t care if shes your sister or not. The power of this woman is something that should be contained. not roaming around New York on a Thursday afternoon.”
“She’s a human being. No telling what you freaks have put her through in the raft- that’s probably why she’s going insane. You don’t even allow sunlight in that dingy of a prison. You treat someone like an animal, that’s what they become. Now, if you’ll excuse me, i’m going to run my own safety diagnostics on my own tower.” Tony quickly ended the call and lifted his eyes to meet Steve’s. “Can I help you, o wise elder of the yonder village?”
“Just... a new comm piece.” Steve stepped forward and tossed the broken pieces to the desk before meeting Tony’s eyes again. “What was that all about?”
“That is a surprise for the team I’m arranging.” Tony sat down at his desk, pulling up an image of a new weapon system, one that they’d encountered a few weeks ago on a mission. “These thugs were dealing with now... they’re sophisticated. They’re playing on a new ball field. So... I’m leveling it.”
“You can’t just do that without consulting the team first.” Steve scolded, his arms crossing over his chest. “What are you doing?”
“You’ll see- tomorrow morning at ten, have the team all meet in the conference room. I’ll bring my surprise to you.” Tony grinned, feeling strangely optimistic for once. Steve only sighed, knowing he wasn’t going to get anywhere with Tony.
“Fine- I’ll call a meeting.” Steve spun on his heel and marched out of the office. Tony sank further into his chair, spinning it to look out of the window.
“Friday, make sure floor ninety two is fireproof.” Tony called out, a twinge of doubt forming in his mind. He was quick to shake the thought from his mind, funneling all his belief into his sister. It had to work. For her sake.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Sitting at the oval conference table, Bucky felt an impatience he hadn’t felt in months. Steve had let it slip- more like Bucky could tell there was something and kept prying- that Tony was on the phone with someone, talking about a prisoner. A woman prisoner. Bucky wasn’t sure what to expect and that caused a great deal of anxiety to pit in his chest. He didn’t like being kept in the dark.
Beside him, Steve sighed heavily, leaning his head on his fist, resting on the table. Being roommates with the guy, he knew Steve hadn’t gotten a lot of sleep last night, like most nights. He knew this because he himself was also up, roaming the apartment, watching tv and staring off the balcony.
“Anyone know what this surprise it stark mentioned?” Natasha pressed, becoming quite impatient herself. They’d all been sitting at the table for fifteen minutes. Waiting.
“No clue- I hope it’s better than the last surprise- the one that exploded while in use on the field.” Sam commented, scrolling absentmindedly on his phone.
Finally, the door to the room burst open, revealing Tony Stark marching in with purpose. Behind him, a woman in heavy chains, with metal cylinders encasing her hands, was being escorted in by two men in fire retardant kevlar uniforms. Her head was bowed, dark brown hair shifting to cover her face. Bucky sat up, seeing the woman marched in, heavily restrained. Tony clapped his hands, rubbing them together afterward. He gave the crowd a large smile and nodded once.
“Surprise, Avengers! This is my favorite sister, Tessa Stark, Tess, this is everyone. I’m sure you were given the brochure.” He turned to the two men. “You fulfilled your duties, you can go now.”
The men unclipped the chains and then pressed their thumbprints to the pads on the cylinders. They released with a hiss of steam, Tessa rubbing her wrists once they were free.
“I know you.” Sam’s voice broke into the conversation. Tessa’s jaw clenched and her eyes stared into the floor. She swallowed harshly, keeping her back ramrod straight and her hands in front of her. “Stark... oh, shit- where have I seen you...”
“Anyways folks, she is here to help out on our new group of rogues... she has a, ah... particular set of skills. Mostly explosives and fire. And since that’s what we’re dealing with, I’ve brought in the big guns.” Tony explained, settling in his chair and gesturing for Tessa to take a seat as well. She seemed wary of sitting beside Wanda but did it anyways, sitting barely on the edge of the chair. “Now, we’re gonna need a new plan of attack with-“
“Atlas!” Sam snapped his fingers, pointing at her. Tessa stiffened, caught off guard by the level of his voice. “That’s it! Code Name Atlas, Operation Dry Sands! You served in the army- I’m Sam Wilson, I flew with-“
“Riley...” her voice was raspy and low, rusted with disuse. “I remember you.” Bucky watched as she seemingly tried to melt into the chair, trying to hide herself.
“You were baller, man! She cleared missions like it was nothing!” Sam praised her, excited to finally meet her. “There was talk of her all over camps- everywhere!”
“Atlas?” Natasha asked, a brow raising. “That’s a peculiar code name- sounds... specific.” Tessa didn’t respond, keeping her head low. When the room fell silent, Steve took control.
“Right, well, Tony you mentioned a new plan of attack?” He expertly guided the topic over to a new path. Bucky couldn’t help but let his attention drift back to the new mystery in the room. He allowed his eyes to scan over her, stopping on her forearm where there was black ink. A tattoo of the army symbol, numbers below it. Maybe her squad number? Her arm shifted and Bucky looked up, meeting her eyes. He knew he’d fucked up.
Her dark brown eyes smoldered- a red tint glowing under her irises. Her lips were pulled into a scowl. He quickly lowered his gaze, catching a glance of her veins in her arms. glowing lightly orange. Bucky clenched his jaw and leaned back into his chair, a fierce scowl building on his lips. He didn’t like this woman, She seemed... violent. closed off. Hell- maybe she was just too much like him. And maybe he shouldn’t make a snap assumption but for some reason...
“Alright well, that’s all for now, Tessa- welcome to the team, please make yourself comfortable and if there’s anything we can do to help out- let us know.” Steve nodded as he stood up.
Tessa only nodded, stood up and spun on her heel- leaving the room without a word. Everyone glanced to Tony. He only shrugged and stood up.
“I’m gonna go make her feel at home- just got out of prison and all, see you around.” Tony gave a small wave over his shoulder and walked out, trailing out after his explosive sister.
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crisps-craft · 2 years
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Helloooo!! Could I ask too if I’m suitable for taking Psychology? I’m a Libra Sun and a pisces moon. I saw someone asking a reading from you about taking Psychology and I read you’re a Psychology major too!! Let me join the team 😂
hi !! ofc ! here are the messages i got:
cards: knight of pentacles, 10 of pentacles, page of cups, 5 of pentacles, wheel of fortune, 7 of cups, 6 of cups, the moon
yes ofc! i can definitely see you exercising your skills and abilities very well in this field :) you are very emotionally sensitive (not only your pisces moon but just the intuitive feeling im getting) i feel like you are more introverted- you need to recharge your social battery very often. socializing can feel kind of overwhelming for you. especially since you prefer more deep connections than superficial ones. you prefer to reserve your time for those who you feel deserve it - so you might be the type of person to just have a couple of close friends and thats totally fine! you are a very empathetic person. also, a big worrier? like little things might set off your anxiety easily- another reason why you need time to recharge and heal yourself after a long day (u also might be kind of a stoner lmao) you have a very rich inner world and like to retreat there after a long day (we are very similar !! hehe)
you are good at communicating to people in a very grounded and level-headed way. very patient communicator. you have a good balance of talking and listening. since you absorb things very easily, this makes for really good listening skills. you really take it in. you can see parts of yourself in those around you - which is a skill. however, this can make you uncomfortable because you often see old versions of yourself that you no longer resonate with in other people. you might have people in your life who are very childish and remind you of your child self and those old wounds (this could possibly be a childish family member- specifically a parent who might project onto you a lot. they might project this image of you as a "child" which makes you feel less than a lot) in a way, this reflection of yourself in people can feel very overwhelming at times- again, another reason why you really appreciate solitude and alone time (where you can daydream, experience your artful visions and perceptions, listen to music). okay im channeling like crazy LOL do u have LED or colored lights in your room? and u keep it on blue a lot? and u light incense? u just really need to have that specific vibe haha (again, i do the same thing LOL)
you have a good handle not only on the psychology of people around you, but also of yourself? you seem very interested in self-work and self-awareness. i can tell that you've done (or are maybe doing) shadow work and you are in tune with your shadow self, child self, higher self, etc. you are very perceptive. this vision and connection is very special, lowkey psychic / intuitive LOL. i do think this would translate well to psychology because you have such a personal connection with it. all of these things i described to you are like a lifestyle to you- very intimate and innate / natural. i think you would love studying psych and the psychology field needs people like you! <3
i feel like you would be a very good therapist where you can have your own space to talk to people, create that calming and healing atmosphere, and just let the emotions flow. after all, you allow your emotions and self to flow very well which in turn helps people around you. again, sometimes in your personal life, people who are close to you might have a tendency to trauma dump on you? or you might naturally elicit self discovery and revelations in people (which is very intense and powerful) but again, that can be exhausting to yourself. if you do go into this field (and this advice is good for real life, too) make sure to have a good self-care plan. allow yourself to recharge. cleanse your energy from all the baggage that other people might place on you. don't allow yourself to become an emotional dumping ground, but instead, revel in that pillar of strength that you have. help others, but don't help them at the cost of yourself <3
i hope that this could help! lmk if it resonated! <3
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queenofallwitches · 3 years
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an update and primer:
so the last winter was weird. I had a complete breakdown, went into psychiatric hospital for 40 days in total. two seperate times.
learnt a heap of new things, met a tonne of cool people and had amazing conversations and few fights but overcome my own demons by that.
brain speaking-I have a scarred brain stem and neurological disorder is not a mental diagnosis, but a neurological disorder, proven by MRI scan, ADHD.
also damage to my basal ganglia, and prefrontal cortex.
neurological diagnosis means ADHD is not a "mental" health issue, as some believe, rather a neurodevelopment disorder caused by structural differences in the ADHD brain.
other neurodevelopment disorders include: Tourettes, Autism, Cerebal Palsy, Dyslexia and other Motor and Intellectual Disabilities. (Which recieve, in my view, a lot of insight, media information and stigma reduction by the advocacy networks surrounding these types of disability).
Over the last few years Autism has been over everything, I've seen mainstream media cover Tourettes and yet ADHD is still HUGELY misunderstood, misconceived and misrepresented in media, be in from the angle of documentaries, personal insight of a "typical" case, films, tv, and other media.
one of the first things my dr told me was "in females it rarely presents as hyperactive red-cordial OD child"
which is what my mother BELIEVES, that is because I have an adopted cousin with the ADHD dx who was that growing up, but the representation I'm told is also divergent for women with a higher IQ score than the average IQ. I come in around 142 and tested 123 at age 3 when I was unable to focus, pay attention and had severe trauma. I tested 142 in grade 8.
I'll share my experience as a female who is intellectually gifted, with higher IQ than average, and an adhd brain:
I've been told gifted and talented "genius" children are harder to diagnose because the symptoms present differently, we hide it better (camouflage) and our focusing can be "faked" by mediocre efforts of academic success.. this is true, I would do the assignment the Sunday night hours deadline, last minute, or have my parents half do it for me, plagiarise it (fuck I've killed my whole academic career now) copied but changed my words
from old 1970s encyclopaedias I KNEW they couldn't cross reference (I went through 15 years of school never studying doing homework or assignments and still had top grades).
I literally did not listen, and spent my classes planning the end of the world survival strategies with my GT friend who, basically helped me with my calculus and hard fucking maths, which was the ONLY 50 minutes of the day I put attention into my work.
now I'm going to be heading back to full-time study in the coming months, I get anxious as the pressure of a Bachelor level degree, and the pressure it takes me to perform, is enough to break me down. I've been advised it might be wise to start light (like a basic vet style diploma) and then build up, which is logical, but I keep thinking I'm meant to be doing my thesis by now. which is the kind of pressure one gets as a kid who is told repeatedly, "your intelligence is exceedingly the average and you can do ANYTHING you want"
I wanted to be an astronaut, a storm chaser, and an architect, a town planner and then a journalist. I always held to being a "FBI agent" or spy (I wonder why). so when I found psychology is really a blend of all these things, I kinda found a niche in a psych and social science double degree. but I'm thinking my academic career is LIFELONG, and due to the fact I also want to work in my field alongside my many written thesis coming, I'll be in academics for a long time. I may fail a few things, which I have to come to terms with. I do not fail easily, or readily, but I'm a perfectionist type-a academic who will put my whole life on the line to achieve "merit". I get exams, I get assessments, I read journals super-easy, I talk the talk and walk the walk so well psychologists who are at masters level compliment me on my "knowledge".
when it comes to mental health and trauma, I will always have the personal attachment, called lived experience, which will make failure and burnout, 100 percent realistic. I have to boundary up, bootstraps on, and prepare that yes, my personal "bias" will probably be entwined in this.
which is why I'm looking at the social science for the statistics and thesis writing side of things, and the counselling for the trained therapist side. either way, the degree of counselling requires so much self-insight, and then the social-science will back me away from personifying it. the other choice is criminology, which leads to forensic psychology, which is eternally fascinating. my main concern is the pro-pedophile content Ill be up against, which will look at the anatomy of a shoplifter akin to the devil, and leave the pedophile in the DSM-5 dx "paraphilia" box.
I'm not joining or jumping to anything.
either way I've got 2 year of credit, a heap of pathways and a lot of "academic momentum" from all my life being aimed to be "academic powerhouse". I went through my files and found a lot of awards I'd won in my high school, and top place in the competitions we would be entering in. I remember feeling so sad if I had a "credit" vs a distinction or high distinction, only to see now, a credit in university maths in year 9 is a skillset I don't have anymore so, good on me. or a credit in English, or Science at that age was pretty impressive, considering these tests were random and not studied for.
just a general skills assessment only the top 30 kids in the year were to take on a year by year basis and put out to vet from the top universities and taken by other kids in the same grade around the state.
it puts so much focus on my intelligence, because it's primed to be that way, I know that is true. I know I feel good being academically successful and it gives me a feeling of "achievement" but is it really for me?
I also found 2 letters from my local politicians offering me job placement, work experience and I was 1/4 kids in my 10th grade graduation tom get the letter, and due to my behaviour I pissed ALL the idiots who bullied me off. I was "too pretty to be a nerd" "too smart to be pOpUlAr".
so I made a group of misfits, who are all highly intelligent, creative and my group had the ONLY gay male in the school AND THIS IS BEFORE YOU FUCKING RETARDS MADE IT "COOL". he was bullied badly, so fuck you, you fucks claim "liberalism" but I bet you were the type of idiot who bullied guys like him in high school while you pretended to like my chemical romance and fake cut yourselves. I hate you all, forever.
my grade was full of idiots who were fake emo, who left the scene the moment the scene changed to dub-step and club music. I was there, watching you all, like sonny Moore, went from FFTL to that dubstep skrillex shit he started in 2009.
I dated you, hooked up with you and I went to your gigs. I know who was real and who was fake. I met some of you years later and realised the more emotive ones were the less "alternative appearing".
I can say 1/10000 emo guys from the 00s were genuinely Into the music and scene for the right reasons based on my dating history and this can and will be analysed statistically using SPSS one day to prove a lot. I've had too many relationships from each sub-culture and I have had 4-11 males at a time per public "output" of my energy pursue me over life.
I'm not being cocky when I say I have a long line of "suitors" and its banked back about 50 men. it's been a thing I've avoided as it seems to grow based on my body shape, attitude, appearance, so I am currently out of touch with dating scenes, no interest to try that ANYWAY, given the fact that I have had so many LONG TERM relationships ANYWAY. I can't see another one going well, and at this case, I'm living with an ex but we never went on conventional and now our families label this 3 things: "asexual", "polyamorous" and "open relationship". I'm also "bisexual" but this all to humans outside, looks ridiculous on paper. (wild orgies and lots of swinging or some stupid sex magick probably is what J brother literally thinks we do).
bc humans are intrinsically designed to need to label things they don't understand. we share a lease, not a relationship, and fucking polyamorous, I WISH. there are no girl-girl-guy 3 some, or orgies, or sex magic parties.
this has changed the attitude and perception of this "relation' which Is non-romantic, non-sexual. he can date and likely, will, as can I , and I likely won't date.
I would say 14/15 have had ADHD, or other mental illness and or trauma. which means to me, nothing at all.
I think this "open book" non romantic relationship style of "friends and roommates" not sexual.
attachment is misunderstood by others but works well fro my adhd, meaning I'm not expected to marry, or be a wife in any capacity. he is free to do what he wants, as I am, and open communication is a novel frontier I brought into this in the start, and stayed with for the duration. we fight, but I fight with a lot of people in my life over many petty things. also down to my adhd, I believe, I have rejection sensitive dysphoria, which makes me hypersensitive to rejection, perceived or real.
im not sure if this is trauma or adhd or both. but
I have used sexuality as a weapon in many relationships but it cannot or will not be used here, so I have had to resort to uncovering parts of myself which I never knew, which will stay with me even if he decided to marry and wife up in 5 years, which I'm okay and expecting him to do, and I would much rather that then be trapped in a situation where I cannot be that "wife/mother archetype" as I'm too "femme fatal/other-woman/sex-laced seductress and siren" a "FWB, unicorn, drug buddy, hook-up where im a therapist" or "intellectual and cognitive mind-bender work-study obsessed woman".
both at once and many types of human, including one who is a full-time ceremonial magician of 7 years. I will drink, drug, fuck, fight like males and still be more feminine and high maintenance than 89% of women. I grew up a tomboy and don't mind getting into fun, adventure based situations, like hiking, or anything adrenaline, I would only be reluctant to eat weird shit.
I also have many "neurological" issues including ADHD, and trauma which causes a rupture in the average human and I dating.
I'll tell you how many men have said "you are the unicorn" and then realised what that means, I went as far as canvasing the PUA world back in 2014 after reading the game, a book on PUA, which is essentially, pick up artistry, based on NLP and hypnosis. I did this after reading the copy my ex in 2008 handed me before we dated saying "I gave this up for you". it took me years to open the book, buy when I did I truly believed the only way I would fall in love again, was through PUA. that failed in so many ways but gave me a training foundation for men who were candidates for that, I have trained up J, and the way that sounds is BAD. I know, but I got a lot of value myself, I just don't see it how I wanted to see it.
but that was my original intent, and I achieved this he knows that, knew it was happening and evolved for the best self.
I am thinking we can modulate this into a business model for how I was operating in the BDSM world was mainly psychological, not physical.
I get told all of is incredibly intimidating (I am told) to women and men.
I don't really care anymore, because people have always seen this part of me in the wrong way ANYWAY, but I own who I am NOW. which is what I needed ANYWAY. so it cannot be stolen again, and sexual healing has come from abstinence ironically.
I also don't care what or who is trying to tear up my relations, toxic or not toxic, all people around me will be on a healing journey by default, or cut out of my life, for I am radiating that energy so brightly its impossible NOT to feel that pull.
I will drag your shadows into the light, and make your secrets spin from your lips into my consciousness. its not what I do but its what is design.
I make your weaknesses mountains to climb over. you cannot hide from these in my presence, I won't be this controlling or obsessive female who wants 24-7 attention as I have a life full of meaning without love or sex. I don't want to be wined, dined or expensively gifted, unless specially requested.
I don't want love letters or romantic declarations, this isn't some femnazi bullshit, but it triggers me. I appreciate the efforts and won't make you feel bad about your insecurities, for mine are probably 30 x more pronounced.
I appreciate small things, that most males won't or don't know how to do. like remembering things I've said and being thoughtful. or knowing my silence isn't personal, or a game, but a protective wall. I've had songs sung too me, guitars played, songs written, or things made in ways that are heartfelt. but I've always had them used against me too. so it is the context. I value time, energy, conversations of depth and reciprocal exchange. I also value trauma understanding, my alters and fragments being accepted and valued as me as a whole and a person who is not afraid, or scared of stupid stuff like sensitivity, emotions, feelings as raw as my own. men feel intensely too, lol.
but will only give oral sex 100 times before I don't recieve it, I can communicate now so that wouldn't happen.
but I won't be a bitch about this stuff. I am extremely feminine and care in ways other people, do not, I forget nothing people tell me, so it can be a reward or reverse uno card pull in a fight, but I am not evil or deviant in my relations. I react, depending on how you treat me. I don't need your money, or providing source of income to be okay as I am my own queen, however sharing resources is okay to build something. I don't need to be seduced, but will need to be shown a person is trustworthy.
few cross that.
that will always be time-endurance and testing. there are ground rules I don't play with, or play games. or like being forced or forged into something I'm not. I know abusive and I know safe, and I am a psychology expert, trained psychotherapist and study humans for fun, so I'll always be analysing things.
and I know red flags and I know ego, I know how to placate and please and pleasure, but will only do so, for a bigger and better reason than the mere act of seduction. which is without value and transactional to someone like me, I won't lie.
and I know every tactic in the book, for the book was written by someone like me, many lives ago, and my karma is being burnt for that book.
in terms of walls, I have many, may it be called a maze. or labrnyth.
I will teach you things you never thought you'd know, and change your life in ways you won't ever be able to go back to before. I will blow your mind, sexually, emotionally, intellectually, on all levels, and I'll make your friends and family love me.
I'll bring your walls down and you won't be able to understand this, because you don't understand me, and thats ok.
but I'll always understanding you and make your life better because thats what I do anyway, and people talk to me about things I will never share, as I keep secrets. I am jealous, of everything but, only because I am attached in a disorganised way, and working on that.(I won't even mention how man women or men don't know basic psychology of themselves). I also am a therapist , for my friends and family too.i should not be , but I am. I care, I listen, If you think I'm not listening, I'm still listening. sometimes I interrupt, because I have ADHD and I am horrible at resolute planning, or being "normal". but I don't want to be normal anyway. I need you to recognise and understand my shit, for that is what I do for everyone in my life, and I have helped more than I receive.
I'll probably accidentally give you therapy, but thats fine, because you will uncover your depths and find meaning in this. it's not something that goes bad unless you are fundamentally, evil, even the most abusive relationship I was in, was benefited from this process. yes he's still narcissistic, but he is self-aware. and did I benefit, never, just know the anatomy of self-proclaimed narc and I still can't hate him. will get my civil claim one day.
I will fuck your mind without meaning too. but thats because I fuck my own mind. but the meaning is made in the man- some find this highly offensive or personal (its not). I fuck minds by my own overthinking, or over perception on many levels of reality. so join the ride, or don't come along at all. because once the rollercoaster is in motion, I have no control of what may or may not happen. it's purely experimental.
I am experimental.
and the women who are judging me, are not any better.
look within, and shut the fuck up. self-improve and quit this jealous divide and conquer bitchiness. I HATE gossip, bitches, snitches and fakers.
I look to other women who are intellectually, physically and spiritually "individual". and find value in superior status to my own, which is something my narcissistic ex taught me.
I look for mentors, and teachers and people who will teach me how to improve myself, which I am fearful to reconnect after something is amazing and I can't give anything back of positive value. I am sorry I am working on that.
I won't devalue those below me, but I also need to be mutually benefiting from a relationship.
I dont drag people down, I may disappear if I feel I am doing this by mistake. I am flakey as fuck, and sorry for that. its anxiety and lack of perfectionism, so I am wrong and bad for this. I can change. will change.
if you can find value with my relation, personal professional or romantic, we can move into a symbiotic beneficial agreement based on mutual "terms". but many won't or cannot see this, nor do I impose my bullshit into the lives of randoms at this age.
I don't care if this is cruel, it's real.
I value loyalty, compassion, self-insight/awareness, someone who understands all parts-spirituality, metaphysics while still having intellectual & logical & analytical brain-sight.
I enjoy music, magick and learning new things.
I do not care about appearances I dont think ive dated based on one time. I do value connections and chemistry which is far-few between, I hate fakers. I smell insincerity miles away. but I do respect women who are well-presented, or beautiful, with hair beauty and makeup, I can't do this shit well, so I look up to those who are in professions who do it like art. I find them to be genius level queens who scare me.
I call out bad behaviour and make people uncomfortable if they are repressed. I will change you without even meaning too, I don't even need to date you. its just my presence, over time, amplified by the intensity of the dynamics.
I don't want simplicity, but I also don't need over complexity.
I value passion, independence, creativity, curiosity, problem-solving, deep-disscussions, shared adventures and some occasional risk-taking (lol), sensuality and sexuality for a common cause beyond physical pleasure. I like being taught but not micromanaged. I need my own independence, and need to be trusted with that. I hate being scolded for that like a child, or being pushed to change my ways to conform to societal values. which I will push back and refuse to do. which is not healthy. I don't adult like many others do, but I try to proceed in other ways. and learn to adult like normal people, accept me.
I also value myself, and how I can be celebrated, enhanced and improved vs. the opposite.
I give space, and have boundaries, and understand human psychology, sexuality and relationships in ways few others unless they are trained, can do.
I value MY time. so you can have space to value YOURS. I dont need to be in anyones pocket for a long time. I love being alone, and being around people who are stimulating, but draining people will be drained out of my life quicker than I intend. I am sorry for the people who felt I disappeared, when I was only trying to be 'fair', if I feel I'm a bad influence, I will work on myself until I'm not. I'm still working on it.
I also use this psychology awareness, to enhance communication, connection. you may or may not become an accidental guinea pig. I will be upfront that I am experimental, but that is part of the buy ticket and take the ride. lets work together. not apart.
I am coming from a place of love, and love is what I feel for my animals, which you will be adopting as children.which I want to stop experiments being done on. I love love, in all ways, but hate cruelty of animals and children, violence and suffering. I dont advocate justice, because I find life is fucking cruel, unfair and unjust. by default, so I focus on myself. what can be changed, and what I am able to do in my own locus on control. I will always find myself drawn to the outsiders, the misfits, the vagabonds, the misunderstood. I want to help people who are society, or socially, disadvantaged by trauma and mental illness, but only when I have ability to help myself.
it's a journey.
I will not date anyone who is cruel to animals, outside of specify magical sacrifice, there is not any place for that. nor will I date or fraternise with anything or anyone linked or associated with pedophilia. I won't judge anyone on anything that are outside animal cruelty and pedophilia. I don't and haven't. I keep on good terms with every ex, bar 1 whom I only apologised too this year. it felt good to do that. I change my behaviour.
I am open, but also highly attuned to both logical, factual, empirical , scientific worlds, and spiritual, intuitive, psychic and the "collective unconscious". I walk in both these realms, and I am "conventionally attractive". which puts a lot of pressure on me, to be "stupid". I am always dumbing myself down to fit into normality, but I look ridiculous if I do that so I peacock my intellect.
only to be misconceived.
I give up because I no longer care how anyone but MYSELF can see ME. I won't dumb myself down , but I can enhance you UP. prepare yourself for graded education, evolution and self-growth on mass scales.sorry not sorry.
that sucks for the people who want to be living vicariously through me, for making up to lost trauma years, for family who sold me out for the success I'd bring home, or fake trauma enmeshed friends, or whatever they want or need from me. I value my time and energy, and have given that in abundance, and if you want to be with nut only "one part of me that is alters". I can't provide that now. not sorry.
I have to work on something or not be in a dynamic at all.
I no longer can switch on demand to adapt for you, it will not be effective and that upsets a lot of people. especially now I'm sober. harder to handle this, as I see the world for its ways and why it is, more vividly. I haven't had alcohol for almost 2 months, although, I could drink, I haven't.
I can't do it, anymore. it, being, faking, my selves fronting to impress. I can't. I have no more left to give, and I'm expected by everyone to be a way I can't do it in the way they want.
I will go to another year long outpatient DBT, followed by 10 weeks of A-C-T therapy, and however many ECT OR TMS may or may not help. I'm told it won't (ect) work. but TMS, is something I am open too. but I am telling you, none of this psychotherapy, that will be based on dbt skills, day therapy, intensive skills training, recommencing my studying, and resuming "life worth living" will or can wipe the traumas I've "recovered" memories for.
I will also shut the fuck up, and tell nobody about this if you leave me alone, I told that to my family, and this is open letter to the watchers, stalkers and perps who read this openly as I track the hits on here and have 200+ visits a day every day for the last month. globally. no idea how or who you are but I think its the same people who called the police for the "ayreon song lyrics" seen to be a suicide not last October.
thanks for that wake up call, I have shut the fuck up, since December, more so now. I will burn the journals, or lock them up.
my recovery is not linear, not yet fully integrated and I trust nobody so I don't think my psychotherapy will be deep, I focus on things like ADHD AND my EDNOS. and dbt skills. I won't be talking about sexual traumas.
enjoy the update, and thanks for the "attention".
I have my goals, my work, my meaning and what my life should and could and will look like, but I will not share that with anyone. that means everyone right now.
I've been tested, traumatised and terrorised to the point of not-tolerant of anyone who may bring that back, and banish the fuck out of my sphere every moment I need.
take me as I am, or watch me as I go, which I will go, where I am not wanted I will remove myself, but I will find where I am celebrated because I create that.
I will rise up against all adversity every time but that is survival and that created a resilient and brave woman, in me. who will not be destroyed or decomposed by humans who are fundamentally fucking evil.
I gift you my truth, in progression, and give up the pain of the past.
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