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glitter-alienz · 2 months

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CW suicidal ideation

he's trying 👍🏾

[start] [next] <- this is the start of an era... i have a bunch of comic wips about donnie being mentally ill <3

original under the cut

its by @mewechy but their blog got explded i think

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incognitopolls · 25 days

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We ask your questions so you don’t have to! Submit your questions to have them posted anonymously as polls.

#polls #incognito polls #anonymous #tumblr polls #tumblr users #questions #polls about relationships #submitted dec 9 #suicide cw #suicide tw #tw suicide #suicide mention #mental health #tw suicidal ideation #suicidal ideation cw

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slyandthefamilybook · 2 months

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I'm gonna say it

as someone who has had suicidal thoughts as recently as yesterday, the primary factors keeping me personally from killing myself are:

It would make other people sad

I can accomplish more by living

From my conversations with other depressed people, these seem to be similar threads. It's well-known that the majority of tumblr users suffer from one mental illness or another, with depression being arguably the most common among them. Whether this airman was mentally ill or not, and whether that mental illness played a factor in his suicide or not, the example being set by tumblr users is incredibly dangerous. The reactions I've seen to his death have made two things very clear:

People are proud of him for his actions

People think his suicide has helped in an important way

If you're paying attention, you will have noticed that those two reactions exactly contradict the reasons why many depressed people abstain from suicide. This is going to put people's lives at risk. People with depression do not need another reason to think they should kill themselves. Gazans have already spoken out about their disapproval with these methods. This needs to stop before more people die

If you or a loved one are considering suicide, call 988 to be connected to the Suicide and Crisis Lifeline

#atlas entry #suicide tw #suicide mention #suicidal ideation

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qtubbo · 2 months

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We got some miscommunication going around, Tubbo did not want to die in his final moments, him playing the game in the first place was an attempt but he did not want to die when Richas was killing him. He screamed and begged for Fit to save him, Richas not listening because he thought it was a game and he is a a literal child don’t ever blame the child, Tubbo is suicidal and depressed but he did not want to die there.

#qsmp #Qsmp tubbo #tw suicide #tw sucidal ideation #tw suicide mention #This is for people thinking Phil was right no he just didn’t know the full situation wasn’t there

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sunlitlemonade · 2 months

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so. uh. surprising thing about jason, who might be one of the most inconsistently written characters ever, is the fact that one trait about him has remained constant throughout different eras, reboots and even an elseworld. no, it's not his thighs tho that would be a very good guess.

it's his suicidal ideation. yeah.

[here's me screaming about the fact that he feels like a phantom that has outlived its purpose of haunting in detail if you're interested]

#issue numbers are in the image descriptions box for anyone who wants them #pls feel free to add this lil collection #um. do i tag other characters mentioned here orrrr #eh whatever the fuck im too sleepy for that #plus this is abt jason. so.#jason todd #tw suicidal ideation #cw suicidal ideation #suicidal ideation cw #suicidal ideation tw #just making sure nobody gets triggered #dc

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messiahzzz · 6 months

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“if we were home”

first gale doesn’t dare to dream, to hope. but against his better judgment he nonetheless finds himself slipping into daydreams more and more frequently.

gale: i always imagined what it would be like when you finally got to meet her. this wasn't quite what i had pictured.

gale: i thought we'd be in waterdeep. you, curled up before a crackling hearth while i prepared us a ridiculously extravagant meal, served with a batch of my homemade hundur sauce.

he has led his imagination wander and thought about certain scenarios in specific detail. how it’d be like when you both return to waterdeep and he’ll get to show you around his hometown for the first time. leading you to his favorite spots in town and (fondly) recounting old memories, how meeting his mother and properly introducing you to tara would play out, down to the very first actual, proper date. daily domestic activities like cooking (letting you try his homemade hundur sauce), reading together, etc etc. at this point there was no actual conversation about your wishes yet and what you want to do after all of this… IF you even prevail. but with his potential death looming on the horizon he wonders how things could have been instead, if you met in another timeline.

gale: i fear mine is a dream for another life. but a fine one nonetheless.

even if he genuinely believes that he will not survive this whole ordeal himself, the idea alone of being able to show you his home, the center of his universe, in person (and knowing that you share his excitement) is still something that keeps him going.

player: it could still happen. so long as we find another way to beat the absolute.

gale: gods, i love your optimism. contagious in the most endearing way.

#gale dekarios #baldurs gate 3 #bg3 #bg3 spoilers #datamined dialogue #gale of waterdeep #in his head you have probably already gotten married and had your honeymoon 10 times over #suicidal ideation tw #suicide mention #bg3 meta

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weird-an · 4 months

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tw: mentioned suicide attempts, but Billy can't die, depression, drugs

Billy isn't sure he's alive, but he knows he can't fucking die.

The doctors call it a miracle, he thinks it's a curse. The wounds healed, turning into thin scars, starting to fade after a few days. All the pain becoming only a faint ache. Starcourt is a memory, a bad dream, a fucking joke.

It can't be right. He feels like he's dying, when he's back at Cherry Lane, when he's at home, but far away from California.

His skin feels all wrong, too tight, too cold.

Neil says he's glad Billy survived the "fire at the mall", but he isn't happy about the hospital bills. He's disappointed that all of this happened, but Billy still isn't a man, knows nothing of respect and responsibility. Beating are lessons, but not lasting anymore, the bruises are gone after an hour.

Neil notices. Calls him a freak, a monster - like he has ever seen a real monster, like he knows what it feels like to have one inside his head, like he doesn't see one in the mirror every day.

It's the last day of 1985. Billy can't fucking die.

He tried to using the gun Neil shouldn't have, he tried to using too many pills, he tried to let the Camaro's engine running until he couldn't breathe - but he always wakes up. Sometimes hungover, sometimes hurting, always not dead.

He sits on the Camaro's hood at the quarry, after snorting a line of coke and drinking a bottle of vodka. His heart races, but he still doesn't feel shit.

"Jesus, Billy." Harrington's voice is soft, almost worried. It makes Billy turn around, before he can help himself.

Harrington's got a freaking suit on, tie loosened, hair tousled. He looks as tired as the world is. As Billy is.

"That's one hell of a New Year's party," Harrington says.

"Fuck off." Billy looks away, before he can get lost Harrington's stupid big brown eyes.

"Still better than the Harrington's annual New Year's function." Harrington sits next to him on the car, his knee bumping against Billy's.

"Why are you here?" Billy huffs, staring into the dead of the night. He wants to tell him to piss off, too, but he can't. His pulse is thundering in his ears and he's pretty sure it's got nothing to do with the coke.

"I don't know," Harrington admits. "Maybe I'm... alone."

Billy gets that. He's been alone ever since she walked out of the door.

Harrington laughs and it's a bitter parody of what it should sound like. "I don't know, it's stupid."

"It's not." Billy makes the mistake to turn towards him. Steve is so close. Steve is so warm. "Not at all."

He feels like Steve just offered him a piece of himself and he should give something back, but all he's got to offer is worthless.

"You should stay away," he says, heart in his throat. "I'm a monster."

Steve shakes his head. A curl tickles Billy's skin.

"I've seen monsters and you're not one of them," Steve whispers. His breath is ghosting over Billy's mouth.

Billy shakes, letting go of the breath he didn't know he held. He leans forward, presses his lips against Steve's.

There are fireworks illuminating the sky, pink, gold and blue chasing the darkness away.

Steve kisses back. Billy's lips tingle.

It's the first day of 1986.

Billy is alive. For the first time in months, maybe years.

#immortal billy hargrove #harringrove #billy x steve #billy hargrove #harringrove ficlet #superhero au basically #steve x billy #tw sucidal ideation #tw mentioned suicide attempts #tw drugs

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a-sip-of-milo · 5 months

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Nobody ever understands the affects of reactive abuse until they've experienced it themselves.

It shows particularly well when people would rather blame a child for reacting rather than the adult for abusing them in the first place.

When I was fourteen, my parents held me down to my bed, locked my window so I couldn't escape, took everything they knew I loved away from me (including contact with my grandmother, all my books, my music, all my diaries, etc.) and my step dad threatened to sit in the corner of my room and watch me for the entire night if I tried to escape. All while my three younger siblings watched me.

As a result, I had my first panic attack. It led me to attempting to break my window, smashing my mirror, becoming physically violent towards either of my parents when they attempted to come into my room, and nearly overdosing later that night after everyone had gone to bed.

For years, people ignored what I had gone through to get to that point. My parents had crafted such an elaborate story that painted themselves as the victims of my terrible abuse that nobody thought to question how I reached that point. Not the police. Not my school. Not even over half of my own family believed me. The extent of my suicidal ideations nearly put me in hospital multiple times over the following years, even succeeding once.

Reacting to abuse in this way is a cry for help. It's the equivalent of self-harm in my book, except directed towards others. That's not to say that it's okay, but more people seriously need to start looking at the bigger picture before making assumptions.

This blog is safe for people with NPD, BPD, HPD and ASPD.

#tw abuse #tw childhood abuse #tw suicidal ideations #tw suicide #tw suicide attempt #tw overdose mention #abuse #emotional abuse #reactive abuse #cluster b safe #npd safe #bpd safe #hpd safe

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traumatizedjaguar · 3 months

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“The so-called ‘psychotically depressed’ person who tries to kill herself doesn’t do so out of quote ‘hopelessness’ or any abstract conviction that life’s assets and debits do not square. And surely not because death seems suddenly appealing. The person in whom Its invisible agony reaches a certain unendurable level will kill herself the same way a trapped person will eventually jump from the window of a burning high-rise. Make no mistake about people who leap from burning windows. Their terror of falling from a great height is still just as great as it would be for you or me standing speculatively at the same window just checking out the view; i.e. the fear of falling remains a constant. The variable here is the other terror, the fire’s flames: when the flames get close enough, falling to death becomes the slightly less terrible of two terrors. It’s not desiring the fall; it’s terror of the flames. And yet nobody down on the sidewalk, looking up and yelling ‘Don’t!’ and ‘Hang on!’, can understand the jump. Not really. You’d have to have personally been trapped and felt flames to really understand a terror way beyond falling."

- Infinite Jest by David Foster Wallace.

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mikaikaika · 2 months

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Tubbo appreciation post once again but it is so satisfying as a viewer how so many of our theories and Tubbo's past implications have come to this. Tubbo has been sowing the seeds since who knows how long and it is so incredibly gratifying to see it all culminate to something meaningful.

From a narrative standpoint, all those comments in the past of qTubbo not needing a house, him saying "he's been dead long ago", him missing his purpose, his constant attempts of harming himself and constant suicidal ideation - all of it reflecting in his last moments and the rest being continued and confirmed post his death. The weight that the line "he wasn't alive to begin with" is itself worth multiple essays.

Tubbo's been subtle roleplaying about all of this and if you don't watch him consistently you probably won't pick up on it. So sending this as an appreciation post for all the plot, themes, and motifs we have been aptly fed with and will continue to be. <3333

#Tw self harm #Tw self harm mention #Tw suicide #Tw suicide ideation #Tw suicidal ideation #STREAMER THANK YOU #And kudos #That's my kudos #qsmp #tubbo #Tub my beloved #Mika mumbles #Meta #BEST DAY TO BE A TUBBLING

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windslar · 24 days

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#the sims 4 #ts4 #ts4 legacy #tjolc #tjolc gen 2 #the joy of life challenge #the joy of life legacy #tw death #tw sui implied #cw sui mention #tw self harm #cw bullying #tw suicide mention #tw suicide ideation

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finleyforevermore · 1 month

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Hey guys! How've we been since I've been away? Hm? Not good? Yeah, I thought so.

I was AFK (which means Away From Keyboard for those who weren't aware, or didn't think to Google it /nm) because my mom had taken away my phone for a bit but I could still use it to help with my math homework.

I did lurk around Tumblr a bit, and I did "officially" come back online for a bit, but I mostly lurked.

And how delightful it was to see (can not clarify enough how sarcastic this is) that someone I follow but am not moots with decided that March 20th was the day they were doing to commit suicide. They did not succeed. But they sure as hell scared the fuck out of me. Same story I've seen before with my other friends, abusive parental figure, and possibly SA'd like some of my other friends. Lovely.

And then ANOTHER friend as it turns out has an extremely abusive mother and got fucking strangled by aforementioned mother, then said in the posts of a vent post, "something something maybe she should've killed me".

Being technically AFK I had to go on anon for a bit and try my damndest to prove to my friend that their mother is beyond saving, and there's no use seeing her in a positive light, and they by no means deserve what happened to them. I don't know if it worked. If you see this, I'm sorry if I came off as rude. But that really was the straw that broke the camel's back.

I'd been trying to keep together fairly well but I had been thinking of Liam, Nex's death was ruled a suicide (and now his murderers will not be charged), all of my other friends are traumatized and now I've discovered another friend has an abusive parent, and someone tried to fucking kill themselves.

And so, we have this. This song has been my coping mechanism for the past several weeks and what I can best describe as my theme song. Whenever I see something tragic with either my friends or someone else my first thought is the words of this song. Largely because of the themes of getting salvation for the unjust wrongs done upon Sweeney or in this case my friends.

I really don't know why I was blessed to know such wonderful incredible beautiful people only for them to suffer relentlessly and have gallons upon gallons of trauma.

Do bad things happen? Sure. But with my friends it's non-stop. One traumatic event after another after another after another and I'm. Just so done. I'm so sick. And I'm so tired. Of everything. Of all the pain and suffering. Of the fact I can't do anything. Of the fact I feel too much. This probably shouldn't be impacting me so much but for some reason it is.

I would've been apprehensive posting this because I'm kind of self-conscious about my voice but some of my friends are suffering 24/7 so I think my voice is the last thing I should be worrying about.

Enjoy if you want. Or don't. That's ok too. Love you guys.

@literatureisdying

#voice reveal #tw abuse #tw sa mention #tw sa #tw parental abuse #tw parental issues #tw child abuse #tw sui ideation #tw sui talk #tw sui attempt #tw suicide #epiphany #sweeney todd: the demon barber of fleet street #sweeney todd the demon barber of fleet street #sweeney todd #epiphany sweeney todd #finley sings a song! 💚🎧

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captain-hen · 1 year

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but i always knew, that in the end, no one was coming to save me so i just prayed, and i keep praying, and praying and praying

maddie buckley + ‘sun-bleached flies’ by ethel cain

@lgbtqcreators creator challenge — typography

#911edit #911 fox #*#userisha #userkourt #usertriz #userdorksinlove #usercorinne #alielook #suicide mention #suicidal ideation tw #domestic violence tw #blood tw #maddiebuckleyedit #usergif #*userlgbtq #userlgbtq #*color #*creative

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little-bloodied-angel · 3 months

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This morning I woke up and my right leg was screaming. The pain was so intense and brutal it was what woke me; I had to sink my teeth into my pillow and scream, too. Every cell from hip to knee is (yes, still) burning, liquid acid going through my veins; and the calf is strained and cramped and protesting the extra work as hard as it can.

I still had to use the bathroom; when I tried to stand up it buckled, like a lightning bolt went through it, and I went to the floor. Even just rotating in bed to get out was agonizing on my hip. My foot was numb, full of pins and needles for lack of proper circulation.

I limped there, dragging my leg behind, supporting my weight on the wall and gritting my teeth. The process of sitting down and standing up almost made me black out.

Over the sink, I looked at myself in the mirror and willed myself not to cry. When I came back into my room I caught sight of my medications on my bedside table, the myriad of pills I'll be taking for as long as I live. The Tramadol on top of them was mocking me, and I did cry then.

I remember everything my body could do. I remember flying. I remember the fall, too, the agonized animal screams that seemed to come from outside my body, the brutal audible SNAP of muscle and tendon, the bone against the hardwood, the hushed whisper-shouts of "get help -she can't move -she can't walk -god, her leg!"

The doctor's office and his placid smile as he told me I was "lucky" because my ACL didn't require surgery at the same time he delivered my death sentence, or what may as well been.

"A career in ballet is no longer an option for you".

I know he didn't understand how people who dance with the goals I did live and die for that dancing. He thought I was young and I'd find something else to do. I was young and a part of me died in that accident and I had to bury it.

I remember a different doctor, a different office, her worried face scanning my psychiatric history like she thought I'd kill myself right in front of her because of the diagnosis as she told me what I already knew.

"You have fibromyalgia. I'll prescribe medication to manage it, you have to be careful with it. But..."

But it'll never get better. You'll always hurt. It'll get worse. I already knew that. I just wanted someone to sign on it, because it turns out that when doctors perceive you as female, complaints of chronic pain tend to fall by the wayside, particularly if you have a history of mental illness. She took me seriously. She warned me about my leg, about what a flareup would do somewhere I'm already hurting all the time, and I kept myself from barking at her I fucking know, that's part of what it's been like for almost a decade because at least she believed me.

I mourned my body again, all the same.

I lay in bed gripping my thigh, trying to will the spasms down, trying to decide between yelling and sobbing, trying to figure out why: had I slept on it wrong? Was it the weather? It had hurt after walking too much on Monday, but not as much as I expected; a delayed reaction? It didn't matter, in the end; it wasn't going to take the pain away.

I thought of Izzy, as I tore my lips apart with my teeth to feel something that wasn't my damn leg. I thought of how real he felt, the tears and the screaming, the gritted teeth, the suicidal loss of identity. The loneliness. I thought of his stubbornness, his progress. How much both of those realities meant. How they thrashed it all, in one moment, and all but told us, the ones that feel like him, "when the desire to die comes back just do it. You've outlived what you were, so who you are has *had enough*", and my mouth tasted like blood for more than one reason.

He meant so much. He could have meant so much more. And we have to wipe the spit of this insult from our faces and carry on and accept it was part of a happy ending.

He might've forgiven it all; he was a character and you made him. I don't. I won't. I'm still here, with my pain and anger, and I refuse to die so the people who want me gone can live in peace. And I refuse to be quiet and accept that for a happy ending I should fade away.

If you can't understand this anger, at least don't insult me and others like me by telling us there's no reason for it.

I'm hazy with pain and aware that I'm rambling. But whatever I don't bleed in ink will poison me.

#me #personal #izzy hands #abuse tw #israel hands #israel basilica hands #negative #swearing #disability #actually disabled #chronic pain #blood mention #ofmd critical #ableism #our flag means death critical #suicidal ideation #suicide mention #tw suicide

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qtubbo · 3 months

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The two members of Morning Crew that are passively suicidal just having no idea that the other is also passively suicidal, is just please talk to each other please, Pac and Tubbo you could comfort each other you please, you’re best friends please. Maybe you’ll make each other worse but I at least need the talk.

#qsmp #Qsmp pac #qsmp tubbo #Tw suicide mention #tw suicidal ideation #Morning crew

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is-the-owl-video-cute · 4 days

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The teen one. But please, be honest.

My honest opinion is that is something you have to decide for yourself. I was a teen with suicidal ideation once. Now I am an adult with suicidal ideation. Not to be preachy or cliche, but you can decide to live as many times as you want and still change your mind later, but the decision to die is final. It’s a one way street to a destination you don’t know.

Personally, I don’t know much about you. All I have to go on are the thirteen words you sent to me anonymously on a blog site. I could send you suicide hotlines to talk one on one with someone more qualified at talking people off of those ledges, and if you’d like I can certainly find you some, but I’m guessing you could find those yourself just as easily as you sent these asks if you wanted, and I can’t make you call or even know if that’s helpful to you because I’m just a stranger on the Internet.

What I can say is that life has the potential to get better, death does not. As I said, the decision always has been and always will be yours, but it is a decision easier to make one way or the other as an adult. Sometimes the feelings of hopelessness go away when you move out and start a new life for yourself away from things you didn’t even realize were stressful, and I’m going to be honest, high school is much worse than the average job.

All I can really say in the end is this much, anon— there are experiences you can only have as an adult, and you may well be missing out on happiness if you made the choice to leave it all behind. Focus and think hard on the things you would miss and the things that would miss you. It doesn’t have to be much, lord knows I kept myself alive in 2016 because I wanted to play Breath of the Wild before I died, but if you can find yourself solid tether points to tie yourself to, you can make it.

I don’t know how helpful any of this actually is, as I said I’m not really qualified to tell someone if growing up and being alive are worth it or not, but I wanted to give you a sincere answer to a sincere question instead of throwing phone numbers or apps at you. That said, life tends to have a higher chance of getting better for you as an adult if it seems grim as a teen.

The question to ask yourself is not whether or not being an adult is worth it, it’s whether or not suicide is worth it.

#Also you can as an adult eat as much cake as you want and no one can stop you.#which is a novelty that never wears off to me #tw sui ideation #suicide mention

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