#not only am I in college during a pandemic and with mental illness

[sheryl-lee]

hi ❤️ i read you study psychology, i am as well, so i'm curious as to why you chose that field?

hello, and ahhh it's so cool to meet someone on here who's studying psych!!!

so for me, psychology has always been an area of interest. i'm a deeply empathetic person and mental illness has personally affected me and several of my family members, many of whom grew up at a time when mental health was even more privvy to stigmatism, misdiagnosis and misinformation than it is today. they also did not have the wealth or means to seek help in the first place, and it naturally caused them great distress later in life. my family is very big and complex and complicated, and as the youngest in the family it always made me want to understand why. and as a bi woc, identity and intersectionality has also been important to me, which is why i'm also studying sociology in undergrad at the moment.

i actually didn't really know what i wanted to do as a career for so long, and then in my senior year of high school during the pandemic i took a psychology elective and i was hooked. i had always been intrigued by psych but never realized just how much it spoke to me until i took that class, and i had a wonderful teacher as well, which really helped me enjoy it even more! my older sister and everyone else in my family knew what they wanted to do from a relatively young age, and for a while i felt lost and unsure of what to do (even though that's normal for most people! it just felt abnormal for me relative to my family members, and the subconscious pressure i felt from them to ~decide what to do~ like it's that easy). but when i took that class, i felt this immediate connection that i had never felt before, and i just knew this is what i wanted to do.

i'm not sure exactly what area of psych i want to focus on as a career. research has spoken to me and i've already done experiments and conducted surveys, so that's a possibility; i may even become a therapist. all i know is that i want to help people with their mental health, identify what they're experiencing, and help them get to a place where they feel safe and aren't seen as a burden or something that should be discarded. i still have a ways to go but studying psych in college has only cemented to me that this is what i really enjoy doing!

#this is a lot haha but as you can see i really enjoy it so far! #wbu though? what area of psych are you interested in and how far are you in your studies? #💌 answered 💌

[dayisfading]

i took that autism assessment that was making the rounds, out of curiosity. i'm getting psychological testing done in hopefully a month or so, and i don't even know if autism is typically included in standard psychological testing???? no idea, but anyway, i also have a hard time distinguishing between "problems that i've always had/had for a long time" and "problems i've only noticed recently" AND "problems that have only emerged in the pandemic era."

anyway, i scored like 80 or something, and most of that came from the social relations bit, which, yeah. in the past couple of years, coming to understand just a little bit more about autism (i don't really know anyone IRL who is autistic), i feel like i really get a lot of things about it because there is so much behavioral overlap with social anxiety. i also feel like my anxiety is exacerbated by my sensory issues which i think stem from fibromyalgia/general nervous system issues, because i don't think they existed before the onset of that. for instance, i've had an issue with noise/smell sensitivity since i first started experiencing pain, but they've gotten so much worse during the pandemic. like, certain smells make me nauseous, the sound of the dog barking has made me cry on countless occasions -- like stuff that was once annoying or made me somewhat uncomfortable is now often, like, unbearable, and i have to escape them or i get overwhelmed.

and, yeah, idk. one reason that i enjoyed extraordinary attorney woo so much is that i felt INCREDIBLY seen by much of it. like...things that i don't even think about because most television characters are Just Normal unless they're obviously mentally ill to be villainized or to overcome some obstacle. but anyway, i do feel like i spend tremendous energy trying to Be Normal and i really can't tell if that's a new thing or not. i think it's more like: over the years i've become more aware of the ways that my behavior is influenced by anxiety, so i am subsequently more aware of Needing To Fix It. that said, i was also fairly well-adjusted socially when i was younger, like prior to college, and my social anxiety manifested more so in a need to isolate. maybe i have selective memories of high school, but i think all things considered i was relatively Normal. i mean i was obsessed with serial killers in middle school, like a full decade before that was mainstream thing, but otherwise

#lex rambles #and oh man it really is a ramble #what was even the point of this

[nota-londra]

I'm back (?)

Long time, no real posts

Hi :)

I think the last post I made was about a very toxic "friend" I made in college who not only lied and manipulated my actual best friend and I, but she also went around telling people things that simply were not true because they didn't happen. I think the blame game would go something like "Alondra deliberately made me feel bad about my body" (Not what I did, but if you had the same sick, twisted method of processing words incorrectly that she did, then you'd believe her) and "she made me feel like shit about an eating disorder" (I can't explain this one. I was a piece of shit at 19. I also wish that I hadn't felt like I was driven to that point [here's where I tell you I more than likely was expressing symptoms of mental illness during this time and for years to come.])

We did this thing called the "Joker Era" after college for a little bit. I blame the pandemic. You know? The whole two years or whatever that the state of Tennessee decided it was going to half-ass shut down. During the second-to-last semester of my college education, for fuck's sake. We went full-circle with that guy but it, of course, went nowhere. Now you're unemployed in your mid-twenties blogging in third/second/first person. No tense, just swag. Putting it all out here because you deleted Twitter almost a month ago (oh, buddy, don't get me started on that one). You finally decided to follow your dreams, BUT you haven't written anything that people have read since you were TWELVE YEARS OLD.

As a result, I'm drinking beer as the edibles hit while the movie about cannibalistic monsters I put on is playing. The dishwasher struggles to be louder than my boyfriend's loud TV speakers. I've managed to talk myself out of self-sabotage and destruction successfully for the nth week in a row. We're doing a lot better, surprisingly, for someone who's twenty-four years old, unemployed, and has no idea what she wants to do for work except the things she actually knows how to do.

No one really talks about how much low self-esteem and the perception of self can really fuck someone's shit up. I put my entire life on hold for things that genuinely do not matter: a man, because I felt like I wasn't good enough, because I was scared, because I was unsure. I've found myself saying things that begin with "Because girls like me don't/can't--" much more often at this age than I ever thought possible. All the versions of myself I'd make up when I was younger were nothing like the way I am now. I imagined myself being brave, strong, successful, and so much happier at 25 when I was a kid. As a teenager, I didn't even imagine myself alive, so that's a huge win.

How was I supposed to imagine all these great things about myself when I couldn't even imagine myself alive? I had to walk such a fine line growing up or I would be forced to face such violent consequences. How was I supposed to know that making mistakes as an adult was ok? How was I supposed to know that I shouldn't turn to my obsessions to cope? How was I supposed to know that an obsession with people and alcohol was as equally bad as any other substance and that finding peace and moving on was the correct answer?

I find myself still mesmerized by self-acceptance. How people seem to fully non-conform in a very conformist world and still live their truth despite it all. I still don't know my whole truth, but when I do (if I ever do), I'll know how to be more accepting and loving of myself than I ever have.

Through all of this, I've had this tumblr account. Six instagrams, four twitters, three facebooks, two tumblr accounts. The only thing I've used consistently is this tumblr account. None of the other social medias I had a decade ago still exist. For someone who likes to reset her digital footprint every so often, I've stuck with this one through a lot. From the awkward All Time Low gifs, to the moody fall photos, I can honestly say you've been the only constant in my life. As someone who's afraid of everyone leaving me, I'm thankful you never have, and now realize that it doesn't matter if people leave or not. It gets better, even though it might not really seem like it at first.

[literary-chameleon]

King Of Scars

By Leigh Bardugo

4/5⭐

I’m re-reading this book because why not? Bardugo has created such great women, every one should just bow down to them. But having read the whole Grishaverse I feel like the most part of this book is a filler. Overall, I love the book. I miss my crows though.

The Castle

By Franz Kafka

3/5⭐

I always wanted to read Kafka and got an opportunity to read this because it is included in our syllabus. I really can’t review old books. For the most part I don’t know what was happening or why it was happening. The ending was very frustrating.

The Plague

By Albert Camus

1/5⭐

The syllabus of my college really be giving PTSD to its students. Maybe I quarantined under a rock because I didn’t hear about this book during the pandemic when apparantly it was on a high demand. And let me take a moment to thank the non-existing god for I didn’t read this in 2020/2021.

A Quiet Kind Of Thunder

By Sara Bernard

3.5/5⭐

Reading at least one romance novel makes your February book wrap up a success. I usually don’t tend to like romance books but this one was cute. I think it showed mental illness and physical disabilities well. We need more books like this.

Foul Lady Fortune

By Chloe Gong

4/5⭐

I did not think I could love Rosalind this much but I guess I am swayed easily by strong and intelligent women. This book would only get better if Alisa and Phoebe became a thing (please I’m starving of powerful wlw couples). The twists keep coming in Gong’s books and never once am I tired of them.

PS: I screamed after reading the ending (AND the epilogue), my throat hurts.

The Stolen Heir

By Holly Black

4/5⭐

Reading a new book years after a series from the same universe has ended is an indescribable feeling (still traumatised by Ballads of Songbirds and Snakes). Reading The Folk of the Air through Jude’s POV made me fear Suren and after reading this book, I am even more afraid of her but in a good way. As usual, Black knows how to keep one on their toes the whole time and make it difficult to keep the book down.

#king of scars #the castle #the plague #a quiet kind of thunder #foul lady fortune #the stolen heir #leigh bardugo #franz kafka #albert camus #sara barnard #chloe gong #holly black #bibliophile #books #wrap up #book wrap up #february wrap up

[roseandpatchouli]

someone is starting to act like a snowflake and gatekeeping a mental illness as if it’s their identity, lol. for the record, bipolar is chronic. i’ve had it since i was 13, when i was still borederline. I’ve shifted from therapist to therapist and currently go to a psychiatrist in which my entire fam also goes to. two of my 50 y/o cousins have a mental illness. i’ve been battling bipolar 1 for as long as i can remember, my dad is undiagnosed bipolar and a former addict, my 40 y/o cousin is dealing with severe depression that she had to resign from work, and needed my mom’s help break the news to her boss because she couldn’t do it on her on. i’ve been borederline diagnosed bipolar for most of my life, and it only finally went full swing during the pandemic and went batshit crazy from isolation. during mint, i cut myself during prod week with a pen, in the girls bathroom because i made a mistake (which wasn’t even mine) but and felt like i screwed up, like the mess was all my fault, i needed to go home and i missed the show, ofc i didn’t tell the prod team that. and the prod team hated me for it for the rest of the school year. i attempted suicide during my break when i was at home, by drowning two bottles of a big litre of isopropyl alcohol, yeah. i finished it. after that i was confined three times, 1 during college days, 2 during the pandemic for going violent. my 50 y/o cousin was the same, my dad’s had to pull her away from a family gathering where she had a panic attack, sent to the psych ward for 5. She’s a mom of a special kid and one teenaged son, who used to have anger issues. can you imagine how hard that is! when i was twelve, I watched her being dragged away from a family dinner while she was going manic. And the same shit almost happens and i relapse, sui attempt and manic attack where i almost hit my own mom on my own manic state a la rue. mx, i’ve had this chronic mental illness since 2014, my 50 year old cousin has had it longer, my dad has had it since the 80’s — you ain’t special and don’t own ownership of it. you’re not the first and only one to have it, and won’t be the last, funny how people call me the snowflake but you’re the one gatekeeping a mental illness that affects millions of people — don’t be a snowflake. at this point you’re the one who looks fucking stupid, because here i am, doing my own year of rest and relaxation. i’m already not on tiktok anymore, i’ve decided to stick with close friends and family and my socials are priv. i’m already going abroad in December to art school. i’m literally doing a my year of rest and relaxation rn, at this point idek pls u look stupid and if i’m defensive? yes i am. because at this point, ur painting yourself like the good guy trying to “help me?” when u first called me out, the only thing i saw was a mirror of your own self, and heck, i thought that was so manipulative, you’re the one trying to purposely piss me off and then deflect and say it’s not me, mx ma’am, i’m a virgo and leo moon, as a fellow astro you’d know what that’s like, as a virgo u can’t fool me and as a fellow leo u look fuckin’ stupid trying to do so. i was the one who did the same thing to you when you did to me, when u didn’t even consider for a fact at the time i was with my parents. thanks for the clout i never asked for, ig. oh and your mindset? you sound like a prepubescent teen, who’d fight with their parents constantly.

#vent #idek #but ifk yk #hi stalker #and now u gonna sue me for libel for u doing the same thing to me? #what a hypocrite

[tiredjournstud]

Stolen Dream

Ever since I was young, I really dreamt about being a college student, I always read pocket books and watch drama related to college students or university students. I really admire the concept of being able to travel alone going to your dream school, meeting new people and being able to pursue the course that I really wanted.

At the age of 13, I was grade 8 that time, I always ask my sister who is currently a sophomore psychology student that time. She told me that her dream school is University of the Philippines and Polytechnic University of the P, but she finished her study and got her diploma at University of Caloocan City for the reason that it is the nearest school here in Caloocan where we are currently residing.

So growing up, Like her, I really dreamt about going to the prestigious university like PUP and meet new people. So i did enough preparations in order for me to passed and study in PUP. At first I thought the examination would be difficult and I would probably fail. But even though I have second thoughts and I'm scared on what might happen, I remain focus on my goal and told myself that even if I fail at least I tried. And when the result came, I was shocked, I cried for about 30 minutes and thanked God for his guidance.

At that time, I'm so excited to finally start my college in my dream school but unfortunately I am not able to pursue my dream course which is Psychology. I asked God several times to put me in the course where he wanted me to take. And then suddenly I have the chance to take Journalism. I know it wasn't in my option, I never imagine myself taking communication courses since I am an introvert and barely talk to other people. But I kept in my mind that at least I'm in PUP, my dream University.

However, the biggest plot twist in our lives came. The government advice the public to stay at home due to the threat of getting infected by the Covid-19 virus.

We are unable to go to school, meet other people in person and to study, get stressed and bond with my classmates in the mode or set-up that we used to know which is the physical set-up.

Being a college student during this pandemic is really tough. We are forced to study because we are afraid of getting late from our batch. Only few of us are capable of using desktop because most of students are not fortunate enough to buy new gadgets which can be used during online classes. What makes it way more difficult is the environment of the professors and students, most of us were surrounded with people so we are distracted by the noise that our surrounding have made.

During these days, the number of students who has been mentally ill arise for about 90 percent. Most of them stated different reason like family and financial problems. Hence, being able to finish college during this pandemic is quite difficult.

I personally have experienced having anxiety. It's very difficult for me to do school related stuff and work in order to provide the needs of my family at the same time. I tried to stop my study for awhile and study since we are currently in online mode of set-up but luckily I have friends and family who pushes me to finish what I've started. They told me that God put me here for a reason and He will help me to finish it.

Even though pandemic steal the most precious part of my dream which is to become a normal college student, meet new friends in person, I am still grateful because at least in the past two years of studying here in my dream school, I can say that finishing this course is possible with the help of my friends, family and most especially God.

[chibbycookie]

I have literally one project and a test to finish out this hell semester but I can’t manage to get it done and I’m so upset

#I was about to belittle my struggles in the tags but you know what even if others have harder majors I am valid to be stressed to!!! #not only am I in college during a pandemic and with mental illness #but I’m also dealing with the death of my grandma and of my best friend and still trying to get through this semester #while also doing art on the topic of grief as a sort of vent #which like is awesome but also really hard to get motivated to work on #especially when this week has been really bad mental health wise and I’ve been unable to sleep normally

[cosmicfleaux]

TRIGGER WARNING - mentions of abuse, brief description of suicidal ideation, general ableist fuckshit

HELP NEEDED- NEURODIVERGENT BLACK WOMAN WHO COULD BE KICKED OUT BY ABUSIVE AND ABLEIST FAMILY IN A COUPLE MONTHS

So my family has made it clear where they stand with respect to my mental health, well-being, and their expectations. Despite me continuously demonstrating how stressful and demanding work and college have been for me, despite my struggling for a year and a half to find a therapist/counselor/psychiatrist to meet my needs as a Black neurodivergent woman, despite the abdominal and back pain and fatigue I’m experiencing (aka a byproduct of years of anxiety-induced hyper-vigilance), despite the general fuckery of the world, it is still imperative for me to find a job within a couple months and begin contributing. Their reasoning is that plenty of people who are suffering (even those with terminal illnesses) manage to work.

I have been struggling with depression, anxiety and suicidal ideation throughout my childhood. It’s taken me a long while to observe the dysfunctional and debilitating dynamics present in my family, most notably with my covert narcissist mother. Up until late 2019, I was on the more “high-functioning” end of depression and anxiety (obviously in the capitalistic sense) in the sense that I constantly overwhelmed myself with full-time course loads in school, work weeks ranging from 20-40 hours, and all kinds of attempts at adulting and creative projects.

I’ve had a series of depressive episodes/burnout periods since moving back to my mother’s house in late 2019, resulting in severe weight loss and gastrointestinal issues. I’ve been dealing with classic narcissistic behavior—constant guilt-tripping and undermining/belittling/invalidation of my emotions and reality. While she expected me to serve as her emotional regulation/narcissistic supply, she was all kinds of quiet when it came to observing me starving and otherwise neglecting my physiological needs as I descended deeper into depression. Because of pressure from my mother, I briefly went back to work as an in-store grocery shopper, but began struggling with demotivation and suicidal thoughts. She has been able to procure remote work and not found herself needing financial help at all during this pandemic, but still shared that she felt I needed to contribute for the sake of contributing—so many implications that I am indebted to her because she birthed and clothed and raised me and all that bare minimum shit. When I told her I wanted to quit the shopper job because I was beginning to fantasize about throwing myself down the stairs so that I wouldn’t have to work or exist anymore, her response was, “Well, you need fo decide whether or not you’re going to your shift. What are you going to tell people about your resume gaps im the future?”

She constantly complained to my older sister about my perceived slights (aka symptoms of having depression and ADHD) in order to get my sister to have me correct my behavior. She liked to compare me to my father, who she split from when I was a baby, when she felt I was rejecting her (aka expressing individuality and not complying with her every order). This was also all happening amongst the backdrop of my grandmother’s health rapidly declining due to breast cancer and, you know, a public health crisis.

In July of 2020 I moved in with my grandfather (mother’s father) to get breathing space and begin taking care of my physical and mental health, only to find myself dealing with similar fuckery and emotional abuse. I try to isolate myself as much as possible for the sake of my health and peace, and this has been interpreted by my family as rejection—they have always been defensive and emotionally explosive when I try to have a respectful conversation about how some of their behaviors and expectations have been harmful. They diminished my diagnoses and my attempts to psycho-educate them. In their eyes, depression is a white person thing and I simply lack the resilience gene that allows black people to simply “push through” various forms of disenfranchisement.

I have not been able to receive government aid due to not meeting certain qualifications and struggling to find help (case managers, social workers, etc.) that will actually provide genuine assistance to complete exceedingly overwhelming and triggering paperwork. I have done all kinds of gig stuff at the expense of my 20-year-old car. I’ve found myself so overwhelmed while trying to self-advocate in various spaces (medical, psychiatric, domestic), that I’ve begun to stammer when especially distressed. I have crying spells throughout the day. I vascillate between scrambling to create accommodations for myself to get my to-do list done and hibernation mode. I struggle to meet my needs (maintaining hygiene, preparing food and grocery shopping). I’ve reached out to a few resources with help looking for jobs for those with disabilities, but I’m in the middle of the harrowing process applying for disability so I don’t know when I will have access to accommodations.

But to be honest, I’m tired of putting myself through the process of job search stuff when I’m already crumbling under the weight of trying to find resources to get away from my abusive and ableist family, meeting my needs despite debilitating mental illnesses, and self-advocating and dealing with bureaucratic mess. I’m not sure I can get a job and maintain it in the time given, and my grandfather has threatened to throw me out of his house before.

I have very little savings left and asking my family for help has only led to ridicule and deeply invasive and controlling behavior. I want to thank everyone who’s shared my previous posts and sent donations, and urge you to continue passing this along because I might be homeless in a couple of months and agonizing about it every day is…a lot.

I’m on a waitlist for a housing situation and am worried about moving expenses, food, my phone bill, car insurance and whatever I may procure medically because I’m seeing a gastroenterologist and health through Medi-Cal has been abysmal, to say the least.

CashApp/Venmo/PayPal: cosmicah44

$439/$3000

Please signal boost !!!!

#just cptsd things #cptsd #abuse #emotional abuse #mutual aid #donation post #please consider helping #help #verbal abuse #signal boost #neurodivergent #actually neurodiverse #actually adhd #actuallyautistic #bipocvoices #trauma #intergenerational trauma #narcissistic abuse #narcissistic mother #ableism #ableist bullshit #tw ableist language #disabilityawareness #disability #major depressive disorder #anxiety #adhd rant #blackadhder

[skeletalroses]

I was going to submit this anonymously to one of the bigger aspec blogs but it got so long that I’d feel like a pain in the ass. I’m posting this because I’ve recently landed in a bit of a difficult situation in the vein of Just Aroace Things, and I’m not sure what to do or even how to feel. I’m hoping to get some advice from the community re: a topic that comes up from time to time---navigating roommate/housing situations as an aroace, particularly when your potential roommate’s romance fucks you over.

I met my best friend, A, our sophomore year of college when we got paired up via roommate lottery. We clicked right away and had a blast living together. Unfortunately it only lasted a year, since the best option for my major was to transfer to another campus while for her it was best to stay put. We’ve known each other for nine years now and live in different states, but we visit regularly and had always talked about living together again once we both moved away from our parents.

I’m aroace, sex- and romance-repulsed. A is super considerate and supportive of this. She even discovered recently that she’s demisexual (which she learned about while researching the symbolism of the asexual flag! On her own, completely unprompted! Because she thought it would help her understand me more! See? Super supportive!). She is, however, very, very alloromantic. Up until now this has just been one more facet of our overall odd-couple dynamic (I’m an Addams and she’s a Disney fairy), which has always been something we’ve laughed at and reveled in.

A couple months ago, however, A moved out of her parents’ place and in with her boyfriend of a few years. I’m still with my parents, which suits me fine for the time being, but I eventually want to move out. Like I said, A and I have long talked about living together. We never made any specific plans, but I’ve asked her before to verify that yes, this is a thing we’re both Actually down to do when the time’s right. But that was a good while ago, before she moved in with Boyfriend. We visited last weekend and I brought up the subject again, because I’ve been unsure about it since that whole development.

“Feel free to say no; I won’t be offended; I just want to know how my options stand at this point. We’ve talked in the past about rooming together again. With Boyfriend in the picture now, is that still on the table?”

A’s answer: “Boyfriend has a lot of anxiety, so probably not. Sorry. He doesn’t even like having his family stay over. You’re welcome to stay a few days but not for like weeks on end.”

This was a calm conversation had over cocktails in the mall. She asked to make sure my parents weren’t threatening to kick me out or anything; I assured her that they weren’t, and I wasn’t moving anytime soon, and it’s okay that my rooming with her is out.

Only I’m not that okay with it. I wasn’t confident she’d say yes, but I did kind of think it was likely, and moreover I’m realizing how much I was unconsciously banking on that plan. I’ve been sans income during the pandemic, and I have a fuckton of economic anxiety to begin with. A’s a STEM major in a big city who easily found a solidly-paying job right out of college. She gets promotions and raises and shit. I’m a humanities major in the middle of Bumfuck, Nowhere where all my impressive qualifications (which I do have) can’t get me anything with a living wage below management level, let alone something in my field. And I’m never going to have that built-in cohabitant in the form of a romantic or sexual partner that allos like A can take for granted. A was the person I could split costs with so as to maybe live semi-decently with someone compatible. Without her, my chances of having that have plummeted.

And it’s all because she got a romosexual partner. This guy who’s known her half as long as I have; who never worked her through the trials and eventual breakup of her previous long-term, engaged-to-be-engaged relationship; who has himself caused her massive amounts of grief, suffering, and sometimes outright danger through his inability to competently handle the drama in his personal life that should never have touched her, all while her mother would write letters to me asking me to come visit because, actual quote, A only smiles when I’m around. He was the reason she would be too depressed to function, and I had to long-distance therapize her through it even though she refused to take the basic step of leaving this grown-ass man at least until he got his shit together, because “he needs me.”

It’s like this dude calls the shots in A’s and my relationship now. I hadn’t seen her in seven months because every time we planned a weekend to hang out, it’d get canceled because Boyfriend wanted to go see his family or something (and he can’t do that without her, I fucking guess). Even this last visit got cut down to overnight when it was supposed to be the long weekend, because Boyfriend wanted to make other plans. And now my best option for future living arrangements is apparently down the shitter because of him. It’d have been one thing if A doesn’t want to live with me anymore because she and he need their allo space or whatever the fuck couples do (still amatonormative and lousy for me). But as far as I understand, it’s not even that. It’s not her. It’s Boyfriend. A and I can be planning something for the two of us for weeks, for months, for years, then it all goes away in a minute because ehh, it kinda cramps Boyfriend’s style. I’m, as A called me, her “best friend soulmate.” I Was Here First. I never fucking made her cry. But I can’t kiss her or fuck her, so I automatically take a backseat to the one who can. I don’t need to be her Number One, but I don’t appreciate being pushed aside at Boyfriend’s every whim.

A, I’m sure, doesn’t realize how it looks from my angle. I know she cares about me and doesn’t want me to feel devalued. She’s just an oblivious alloro. I’m not even sure Boyfriend’s intentionally hogging her. (To be clear, I don’t think he’s a bad person; I’ve only met him a handful of times but I reliably clock my friends’ truly shitty partners on less. I haven’t heard about any crises in the past year or so, so I guess he’s finally managing his baggage well enough that A’s life can go smoothly and not suck.) I’m not unsympathetic to anxiety either; I’m chronically mentally ill and I’ve had my share. And I get we’re little more than strangers at this point. But I hate that he can just singlehandedly veto me and A rooming together ever. It’s much more of a blow to my likely quality of life than he or A---or tbh even I did, before this point---realize.

I hate feeling like I’m being jealous and needy. Maybe A just genuinely likes him better and it’s not only an amatonormative thing. I know I’m not entitled to live with her; it’s not like we promised or anything. But the option getting shut down really made me realize how much I resent not having it, and how much I kind of resent Boyfriend in general.

Which brings me to the asking-for-advice part, to the maybe two people who’ve read this far. Aspecs on here have talked about how amatonormativity fucks over single people and especially aros in terms of housing and life in general. Has anyone dealt with a situation like mine? How do you manage the amatonormative behavior of people in your life snatching your prospects out from under you, or feeling like it has? Is my reaction even reasonable? If so, how should I bring it up to A? This would be the closest thing we’ve ever had to a conflict, and also I’m...not great at being vulnerable. I can’t even vagueblog about these topics because my social media presence is limited to Tumblr and hers to Facebook. Hell, maybe I should just forget it for now, since I’m not changing housing anytime soon anyway, and cross that bridge when I get to it. I wouldn’t ask her to leave him, since their relationship seems to be going a lot smoother than it had been. But goddamn, am I filled with aroace salt about this.

#aromantic #amatonormativity #arophobia #asexual #aroace #might delete this later #sorry about the rant #why this is hell nor am I out of it

[sabbywrites]

Let’s talk.

This is a long post that also happens to be long overdue. Also posted as a thread to my twitter (tl;dr at end). 

Hi everyone. It’s been a while. I’ve been debating for a little bit on how to write this, going back and forth between feeling scared and feeling determined to say what I want to say. I’m finally at a point where I can confidently say: let’s talk.

First, I want to say this: I’m sorry. I haven’t been very consistent these past two years, with both my writing and with keeping in touch with everyone I’ve met online. If you’re reading this and I haven’t spoken to you in a while, know this: I will be getting in touch with you soon. I haven’t forgotten the amazing people I call friends.

If you folks will have me, I’d love to catch up with everyone I haven’t talked to during my absence. I want to make one thing very, very clear— me being gone was never about me not wanting to talk to the people on here or participate in this community. The thing I regret the most about being gone is leaving people in the dark. If my absence has in any way, shape, or form hurt you, I cannot begin to apologize enough from the bottom of my heart. That was never my intention, although intentions don’t fix the hurt caused.

I want to discuss the reason for my absence, so please bear in mind that I’m not trying to excuse being gone— just explain why.

Some of you may know that I have three diagnosed mental conditions that have mostly been manageable through medication and therapy. When I first started writing online, I was halfway through undergrad and I wanted a place where I could put my writing so people might enjoy it. I found that pretty quickly on Ao3. As I worked on getting my writing degree, I would spend hours and hours working on what became ASID. I was thrilled beyond belief when ASID drew in readers who left wonderful comments.

I have a huge amount of love in my heart for everyone who has ever read any of my works, and I wouldn’t change anything about that. Ever. But as I graduated from college, I started noticing that my mental health was on a sharp decline that it hadn’t been on since high school. I tried to keep it at bay for a while, because I was sure I would bounce back.

I did not.

I began to take small breaks as I jumped into graduate school. I feel very purposeless without school in the background of my life; I’d gotten a degree that a lot of people in my life implied was useless, and with every break I took I felt more and more like an imposter. What’s a writer who doesn’t write? Had I gotten my degree for nothing? I trudged on through grad school and received my Masters in May. It still didn’t feel right. I felt like a failure.

Every time I logged on to talk to friends or check my comments, a voice in the back of my head kept popping up. I was getting older and less motivated. Life outside of undergrad hit me all at once. Nothing I wrote felt good enough to post. The amount of debt I was in already made me ill, and I went through four years of schooling just to feel like the degree I earned was for nothing.

There’s a weird misconception that artists have to be suffering to make good art. We have to be low to do our best. And I was low, lower than I had been since the absolute worst days of my life, and I still couldn’t produce anything. The pain wasn’t enough to jump-start me. What worth did I have, then? What worth does someone who has put their heart into their writing have if they can’t write anymore?

I mistakenly felt like I was an imposter among genuine people, like the friends I had made and the writers I admired were on the other side of a window, in a place I couldn’t get into. When the pandemic rolled around, things had already been teetering on the edge. I won’t sit here and pretend that I got hit any worse than anyone else during 2020— I had a roof over my head and a place to go during my state’s lockdown. But there was ample time, and yet I still wasn’t writing. I couldn’t even do that right. I had to rawdog my mental illness for a stretch, live in a town where the worst trauma of my life had happened to me, and feel like a total, complete, garbage failure every single day. Logging in was more and more of a reminder that I was dead weight.

Financially, I wasn’t doing much better. In the past year or so, I’ve had to provide for myself living on my own on an nonprofits’s pay (not much), as well as occasionally provide for my uncle. I’d thought that by my mid-twenties my life would be different; that I’d be better. In the last few months, it’s become clear that I require surgery for something that may not yet be able to be covered by my insurance; my options now are to wait for it to progress and get worse for coverage or pay out of pocket for the surgery sooner. It’s likely I will need a second one afterwards to completely correct my issues.

For a while, that just made the idea of writing again feel selfish. Why spend time interacting with the community when I should be working to make money because I wasn’t eligible for the stimulus? Why sit down and write something that I would probably just scrap anyway? There’s a lot of other more personal things that happened during my absence that I won’t delve into, including the passing of our family dog. I’m sorry if this seems vague as well, or if it appears that I’m just trying to make excuses— I’m not. Ever since I was younger, I’ve always kind of receded in on myself any time I feel anxious or like a phony. I know it’s not a good habit.

So that’s why I’m here right now, writing this. If I could go back and tell myself that those things I thought about myself weren’t true— that I deserve to have fun in this community and I deserve to talk to the people I care about— I would. But unfortunately, I can’t do that. All I can do is move forward.

I’m not going to sit here and promise that things will be the way that they were back when I first started; not right away, at least. But as of lately I’ve been letting myself peek at my Tumblr dash every so often or log into my Ao3 to see my comments. Those things used to scare me— and they still kind of do right now— but I can’t let them anymore. Joining this community is one of the best things I have ever done. I mean that. The people I’ve met, the comments I’ve received, hell even the discourse I’ve jumped in on— I wouldn’t trade any of it. Things might be overwhelming for a little bit as I adjust to being back after so long, but I want to be here. I want to let myself be happy again.

If you’ve read this far— thank you. Thank you so much for your love and for your patience. Like I said before, I cannot stress enough that my absence was because of myself alone and had nothing to do with my amazing friends on here or the community. If I haven’t messaged you in a long time— again, I apologize. I really, really did drop off. But the only way I can be better at being consistent with the people I care about is by holding myself accountable, not shrinking away.

It may take me a few days to really sort through all of my unread messages and comments and asks and give them the attention they deserve. But I promise, I’ll reach out to everyone whenever I’ve taken the time to do so. Thank you all for being there even when I am not.

Tl;dr—Mentally and financially, I’ve been struggling a lot this past year. I fell back into bad habits of receding into myself and leaving people in the dark, and I really wish I hadn’t. I’d love to be a more active part of this community again. I love all of you so, so much. 

#sabby rambles

[pxppinmolly-archived]

Hello! I have a question. I don't know if you're the right person to ask this, but how to you manage rp, school, and work? I wanna spend more time doing rp stuff and entertaining my followers, but I don't get to be on here all that much cause of the other two things I mentioned (school and work). You seem to be on here all the time so that's why I ask (nothing wrong with that btw). Do you have friends who have a similar problem?

WELL. SKDJFG

I know you didn't mean offense but it IS really funny like, "You're terminally online, can you help me out?" KDFJG

I will be upfront and say atm one of the big reasons is I am currently unemployed since the pandemic and am taking a rather. long break from college right now BUT!

I did juggle school/work while writing! Though not at the same time, I tended to be doing one or the other.

But my dear anon I will also state first and foremost, you don't owe anyone anything. You are not and should not be expected to be online a lot and 'entertain' everyone constantly.

There are plenty of other RPers in the same position as you, school and work who mention and say how they can't be expected to be on all the time. And that's okay! I have had mutuals who stop coming online for MONTHS and come back for a little bit and disappear again. There's some who only come on once a week.

BUT!

If you wanna figure out how to make time for writing because it's something you enjoy and wanna be able to do between everything ...

In my position when I was working and doing school, I tended to check in on my stuff during my breaks, or between classes. Just kinda send in memes if I see any or draft my replies. When I'd get home I'd take care of what I needed to and then just.. Hop online!

I was in a lucky position of I tend to have a lot of free time by default. I worked at most 25 hours a week and I only ever took two classes a semester because I didn't want to stress myself with too much work because Mental Illness <3

But really the best thing is just trying to just take care of work and school as best as you can, becuse that is ALWAYS first. RP is just a hobby and something fun to do in the downtime between the two! I'm sure your followers ABSOLUTELY will be understanding of that fact and DO NOT expect you to be online 24/7. Like I said there is plenty of other people in the same position as you! You're not alone, so don't worry. <3

#hope this helps at all!! and gives u any validation ;v; #Sugar Spun (Asks) #Anonymous

[streakyglasses]

It Gets Better

This post is for anyone, but high schoolers and college peers especially. 

Now, I know this past year has been extremely difficult. My plans also got thrown to the wayside which was completely heartbreaking. The only goal right now is survival-- keeping our head’s afloat until the new administration is in office and, hopefully, offers more aid regarding vaccinations, student loans, and stimulus. I can’t imagine going through what I did in high school right now, and I’m sure many kids are. I see you and I’m sorry. The best advice I can offer is to find a support system who cares and loves you, and possibly a therapist (therapy is great). Most people right now don’t know what high school and college students are going through. 

Without going into too much detail, my social experience growing up was terrible. So much so that I finished high school online and went to college 1200 miles away at 16. And, as grateful as I am for those experiences, I was miserable the whole time. My plate was always overloaded, I constantly felt like I had to prove myself, and my whole identity and purpose was based on other people’s perception of me. Couple that with mental illness and it wasn’t a great time for anyone involved. I decided not to stay at my previous school and instead move back home and take a gap year to find a school that fit my needs better. This is one of the best decisions I’ve made for myself.

Especially in America, we rag on gap years because college is always seen as the goal in our education system. But taking a year off allowed me to work on my mental health, hang out with my real friends, develop skills I needed to reenter college, and just take a load off. I worked pretty much full time during my time away from school, and this also helped me solidify what I wanted to do (and also that I needed to get out of my hometown).

My gap year turned into a gap year and a half because of COVID. And I am in a very privileged position regarding the pandemic. As hard as it was to have my plans derailed, it gave me the option to look at why I chose the school I did, more financial options, and just reconsider everything so I was making the right choice in the short and long term. I ended up withdrawing from one school and committing to another, which is where I am now. But what is the most important thing I learned during my year off?

I have to do things for myself, not because I think it’s how others expect me to act based on what I think they think about me. 

In other words, I learned I cared way too much about what others thought, and it was a big reason I was so miserable all the time and making decisions that negatively affected my health. As much as I said I was over the people who caused my trauma, it affected my ability to regulate what was important to me. 

I chose the school I’m at now for a multitude of reasons. It has a great program, it’s close to the city, I’m here for ridiculously cheap out-of-pocket. But mainly I’m here because I want to be. Because I trust I can learn and grow here in a way I couldn’t anywhere else. Because I was able to let go of my baggage, pluck up some courage, and do the damn thing no matter what anyone else thought. And I’ve only been here about a week, but I have so much confidence and so many good feelings about my time here at my new school. I’m buzzing with excitement not only because I’m back in school, but because I feel ready to take advantage of opportunities that serve me and let go of the ones that don’t, even if they’ll pad my resume. I firmly believe that everything happens in due time, and I wouldn’t be here if I didn’t do the things I did when I was younger. I finally feel like I’m where I belong, surrounded by people who I can learn from and who want the best for me. And I never thought it would be where I am, but it is. But my younger self lived and yearned specifically for the freedom and peace that college would bring me, and I finally found it. 

To make a long story short: it gets better. I know how hard it is, trust me. I know it feels like it won’t. I know you feel like you’re going to be surrounded by this gray film forever, your goals constantly just out of reach. And I know it’s hard to imagine who you’re going to be by the time you move into your freshman dorm or when you move out for that summer. But the only thing you can do is keep moving forward on your path. Even if people discourage you, even if your goals seem lofty, even if half the time you can’t believe you’ll make it. Stay in line. Allow yourself to be hurt by but also to grow from whatever bad things happen. Try to heal. Find people who support and love you, and realize they’re the only ones who matter when it comes to why you make certain decisions (but they never matter more than your instinct and heart.) You don’t have to prove yourself. You don’t have to post everything online for the world to see how good you’re doing. (And, I promise, no one is ever judging you as much as you think they are. People don’t care all that much unless you’re someone important to them.) Take a deep breath. Trust you’ll end up where you need to be, even if you’re not sure where that is right now. You got this. 

#college #high school #advice #peer pressure #mentoring #i promise #it gets better #you matter #your goals matter #growth #moving on #growing up #moving to college #finding your place #mental illness #mental health #online school

[noctomania]

Just having a moment

Dad already had been fighting a lung infection for a while when the pandemic hit. After about the first year, I think, of the pandemic his health has steadily gotten worse. It's been one thing after another and now we're looking at a situation where he may be facing the end of his life. He can't breathe well on his own and he has an extreme phobia of wearing a mask so he's been apparently a bit difficult during the pandemic in terms of wearing a mask, but also now that he needs a mask to help him breathe. The only way they could get it to work was sedating him (with his permission) so he can wear it.

I'm at work rn but I'm not *here* really. I couldn't tell you anything about the last hour. Ive not cried, the only time i really felt close to crying was bc I was hearing my sister cry on the phone. I'd known this was coming and I guess either I'm prepared? Or just hasn't really hit yet? Idk. It's complicated bc my relationship with my parents lately has not been great, we don't really talk. I still haven't talked to my stepmom. I don't know how to explain why I feel a way towards them. Bc it's not like a blunt obvious issue yanno? It's just they have a culture about them that I don't deal well with i guess.

I don't know that I'll be able to speak to him before he passes, idk what the next steps are, and I can't be there so I'm just stuck knowing that things are going south and that I have nothing to do but sit and wait for the inevitable. It's not that I don't feel anything, I feel sick and tired and frustrated. But also plain overwhelmed so I can't even get the energy to deal with any of that feeling. I do care, I just deal with things differently bc I have to.

Anything to do with family immediately triggers a ton of shit I don't want to think about yet think about all too often. I can't shut shit off. And what's worse is there is also a part of my brain saying I'm selfish and petty and that nothing but other people's issues matter and all that shit. That if i had real problems I wouldn't be where i am. But then i remember I'm only where i am bc I have fought so hard to keep from giving up even though I have wanted, dreamed, fantasized about not having to fight anymore and just giving up.

Do you know how infuriated i get with myself when I am triggered by a fuckin pill bottle bc I feel like I'm the one who made myself mentally ill? But i have to give myself grace and remind myself that I'm not in a tunnel and that isn't Destiny - i just need to let the moment pass and the moment pass and the moment pass. That nobody makes themselves miserable on purpose. That not all issues have a place to lay blame. That the important thing is to try to take care of myself. Which is hard when I'm not getting the prompts I should or don't understand them or whatever.

When i last talked to dad he said he'd always been proud of me. Idk why or how. I'd never really thought about whether or not I make them proud. Idk why. I've felt just difficult, inconvenient, a financial drain. When i moved into their house they put me to work as soon as it was legal, when it was exhausting me bc I was in school and literally hurting bc my feet are shit, I was shamed for quitting. When I was turning 18 i was given an ultimatum to either go to college - which I did not want to do bc I had no idea what I wanted to do & it was a lot of money - or move out and find a way to live off of what a queer 18yo in texas fresh out of high school could find to sustain them. Somewhat homeless during college, as every holiday and summer break it was like ok who is going to let me sleep on their couch while the dorms are closed? Eternally grateful to those who put me up here. Can think of at least 3 households who did. I hate accepting help. It was humbling and I always tried to be a good guest. I never felt like I was good enough and always felt like a burden despite never being treated as such by these households. They treated me as family.

That continued as college ended going from couch to a full time live-in temp job to scrambling to find an apartment that I couldn't really afford when ppl couldn't put me up anymore. Applying to over a hundred jobs. Then landing an overpriced room in a precarious situation I was too naive at the time to navigate that also almost landed me on the street. When I reached out to my parents just for guidance on what I could do, they took it as me asking to move in with them (which i never asked for that i recall), said they couldn't help me, and that I'd have to sign up for the military if I was struggling (which was illegal at the time bc of the trans ban they clearly didn't care to know about despite knowing their son is trans) Anyway...

Idk what there was of me to be proud of. What did I do? What you told me to do? Is that what you're proud of? My submissiveness? Ruining my life for your opinion?

He also asked if I was happy. Happy? In this world? In this pandemic? I said I'm content bc at this point I didn't feel allowed to complain about anything but certainly couldn't lie. I wasn't allowed to feel vulnerable about what I'm facing every day. Someone always has it worse.

Well no shit someone always "has it worse", bc that's not a real standard. Am I not allowed to say it's hot out bc people in hell don't get snow cones?

Part of self care I've had to learn is that grace with yourself and taking yourself seriously. This is a very hard thing to do for some of us. Some of us will let ourselves get to a point where it's worse than had we dealt with it earlier on. Some of us struggle with knowing what it looks like to ask for help or where or how or even allowed to. Or even necessarily to know when we should.

I'm trying to balance the self care with trying not to be self-absorbed. I'm trying to still differentiate between the two as somewhere along the way I'd been taught they are the same when it comes to me but nobody else. I'm trying not to believe this whole post is self pity bc it's really just relaying the facts. I just can't help but imagine the shit being talked about me behind my back bc I know it happens.

Idk there's no real end to this and i should be more focused at work. I just needed to dump this off.

#dear god im an emotionally complex person but i dont feel like i have permission to be

[aryn-writes]

And we are back to over sharing to deal with my mental health

TW: Caps, Eating Disorders, Self-Harm, Depression, Anxiety

Venting Post!

I am so tired. And before you ask, yes I sleep over six hours every night. When I can, I sleep over 12. So my sleeping is not the issue.

The issue is that I have no fucking clue how to exist anymore.

I was initially trying to remain as the person that I was. They were a happyish ray of sunshine that was so good at helping people. And they did! People came to them daily to vent, get advice, or just letting them know that they are doing better. And I wasn’t doing great mentally then, but I was making improvements!

It has been over a year since we went into lockdown.

And you know, there have been good things that came out of the isolation.

I know I am nonbinary! And I was getting closer to dressing how I want!

But I am exhausted.

While I am at a healthy weight now, I have been slipping in and out of my ED habits. My family has also been continuously shitting on me for gaining weight. (if you’re curious, I am 5’4” [~162 cm] at 135 lbs [~61 kg]. I used to be at 100 lbs [45 kg]. And I would continuously dip back in double digits.) So, I have a fear that I’m going tot get bad again and that is just not something that I can handle at the moment.

I also can’t socialize, because holy fuck that shit is terrifying.

Like there are times when I can’t even talk to my family.

My closest friends? One of them messages me daily to make sure I’ve eaten at least one thing (which I agree, very kind, but I will explain why I don’t like it in a bit.) The other I haven’t talked to in months and it is so awkward when we try to talk. All the other people I used to consider close haven’t talked to me in a year, even after I would attempt to reach out to them.

I know that it is partially my fault; I am horrible at messaging and keeping conversations going is one of my weaker points, even in person. Along with that, I have been having depressive episodes more often that I care to keep track of, and I push people away and isolate myself during those times. So I get that it might be difficult to talk to me.

But there are people who I will reach out to, and they read the message and just don’t respond.

Like... I will literally say “hey! It’s been a while, how have you been?” (No response)

A week goes by

“I’m just checking in to make sure you’re doing alright” (left on read)

Another week

“Me and this person wanted to plan a small hang out online! She found this really cool website that we can play games, and we can use discord to chat. Wanna join?” (No response)

And it goes on.

For over seven months.

So if you have an active imagination and are prone to overthinking, you can imagine that my thoughts are “well shit. They just don’t like me and were only friendly bc i was dating him.” (Him being my ex boyfriend; we broke up a month into the quarantine.)

And so that kinda fucked with my anxiety even more.

I don’t blame them for not talking to me. The logical part of me understands that sometimes you just don’t respond, or maybe you forget or just don’t want to. I get that. But the part of me that has been overwhelming is pretty much like, everyone hates you and you’re a burden.

And it’s really hard to open up to the people you are close to when you feel this way.

So we come back to the close friend who checks that I’ve eaten.

He is wonderful, do not get me wrong. We became acquaintances around September 2019, and friends a few months after. At this time, I was dating my ex, who was an acquaintance to the close friend. (We are going to call the close friend Edward from here on out.)

At that time, I was struggling with my body image and my eating disorder. (Every year I go through a relapse and recovery, it fucking sucks and sometimes the relapse take over almost the whole year, but not the point right now.) One of his first memories of me is me having a panic attack because I ate a sandwich.

So during this pandemic, Edward has been messaging me to make sure I’m eating, because he doesn’t want me to get really bad again. Which is nice!

Except he doesn’t really understand mental illness.

He has been trying! Do not get me wrong, he does try. But his way of going about talking to me during a depressive episode is “Just don’t let it get to you” And “Be happy” and my favorite, “I don’t get why it’s so bad.”

😃🤡

Along with that, he gets incredibly upset when I don’t respond to his messages within like thirty minutes.

Keep in mind, I have been going through many, many depressive episodes and am constantly struggling to get out of bed and keep up with my school work. I have told him this. I have told him that sometimes I just cannot handle checking my messages and participating in conversation.

And a side note, I am in my last year of high school. Which mean I have online learning and in a few months I will be graduating. Which means I have a few classes I need to pass in order to graduate. If you keep up with most high schoolers, we have been getting an absurd amount of work with due dates every fucking day. That plus depression does not go well, and so I am very tired all the time, but since we have actual lectures instead of recordings, I keep my camera on for every single class because the teacher’s get sad if we don’t. And yes, there are classes where it is just me and the teacher with our cameras on. And yes I constantly disassociate during class and stop focusing because I forget to.

So yeah, it is fucking hard to just keep up with that, and socializing isn’t really something my brain sees as important because of the constant negative energy I receive when I do try to talk to people. So I have told him that as of late, it is just difficult to do much besides school, and things that produce any sort of serotonin or dopamine.

And he got upset that talking to him wasn’t making me happy!

Which, it does! Because he is a great friend! But he is so rude about the things involving my mental illnesses! And acts like he understands it better because he is in a psychology class! So in this state, I do not feel as comfortable talking to him since he only wants the ‘happy’ version of me that struggles to eat so that he can ‘fix’ my eating disorder and be able to feel like he did something!

But I continue to try to talk to him, because he is an only child and I am one of his only actual friends. (I really wish I was kidding, but when we became close, he told me that I was the first person to ever actually care about how he’s feeling and how he is actually doing rather than just taking advantage of his presence. He almost cried when I said that I appreciated his existence.)

And I do care about him. Edward is definitely a close friend, and I appreciate that he tries. But lately, he only does it for the validation of knowing he did something good, and it feels like he is just tired of having me around since I can’t bring myself to speak much.

So I have been trying to push myself to be a good friend to him. And I am doing what I can to pretend that I am getting better so that he can be happier. Which is just tiring me out even more.

I feel empty most of the time now, and I am so easily put over the edge. I can hide it pretty well, but it has been getting to the point where I am contemplating self harm again just to feel something.

I don’t remember how to properly do things. I am really just trying to get through every day. But it feels like I am headed straight for doom and I am so tired of it and I just want to leave!

Which in a few months, technically I will. I hope to go out of state for college (to get as far as I possibly can from all of this shit) but as I apply to more scholarships, I want to scream and cry because I have no clue how I am going to pay for college because my parents make too much money and my mother spends it all on herself so I am stressed out. I didn’t do enough extracurriculars, and I have been rejected from so many scholarships that it’ s starting to look like I might need to stay here, and I can’t do that. I just can’t.

So I have been crying and trying to escape from this shit, and I feel like at some point I might just constantly think that nothing is real and none of this shit matters, because that is on my mind more and more.

But hey! I have been reading, writing, gaming, watching anime and drawing to cope so that shit exists (even though it’s all shit so I won’t post it) and I’m making improvements with that so that is something?

I don’t fucking know lol.

I am just tired, and this was a rant. I don’t fucking care. Hope you have a good day!

#reality is often disappointing #and i am exhausted #life seems fake #depressive episodes suck #i literally can’t talk because of #anxiety #pretty sure everyone hates me #do i need tight hugs #therapy #or music #anyways #fictional characters #are the only thing really motivating me #tamaki and haruhi would not stand this #jumin and saeran would be making me get help and making sure that I wasn’t this stressed out #and there’s more but you get the gist #imma take a nap #emotional vent #depression

[memoirsofabasicbitch]

The thing is, I’m not entirely sure I remember how to dream. How to write. How to imagine anything independently of a world created by someone else, in their mind.

I’ve grown so used to hanging my dreams on what other people have created for me that I don’t know if that person is still in there.

That weird little girl, who peeled acorns for squirrels, and walked in circles over and over and over again on the roots of the big oak tree. She had a big imagination. She told herself all sorts of stories.

Was it just because I couldn’t play the other games? Too slow - reflexes and running. Too weak - climbing, throwing, running, playing.

(Or was it because I wasn’t allowed to — couldn’t — play those games? I have a few dim memories of trying to play and being sent away. They’re dim though. I stopped asking.)

Or was it simply that I was filling time? Waiting until I could go back into a world I could navigate a little better than the playground?

Sometimes, though, I was waiting. Hoping, really.

More than a few times.

A lot.

I hoped, I thought, maybe - maybe if I walk in the right way, I’ll hear the trees laughing, like Anne told Diana about. Maybe they’ll talk to me. Maybe a faerie will come creeping out from a little crevice and wave, winking. Maybe a squirrel will come crawling down the wrinkled bark while I watch, and take the little heap of acorn meat I’d left for him. Maybe there’s a tiny scrap of magic somewhere in the world that I just haven’t found yet.

I haven’t had dreams for a long time. That’s what happens when your dreams have expiration dates. I’ve already missed most of mine.

Never really even came close.

I had a “schedule” that makes me want to cry to think of it. Meet someone in college or shortly after. Get married by 25, so we would have a few years together after college. Have our first child by 27, because mom always said I should start having babies by 30 if I really wanted to have more than one and space them out.

I’m 28. I’ve never had a real relationship with anyone, romantic or platonic. I’ve never had a best friend who would place me on the same importance as I would them.

I have borderline personality disorder. I have adhd. I am on the autism spectrum. I have depression and anxiety so severe they cripple me. More than one of these things may be false. The symptoms are nearly indistinguishable once you have more than 2. No one will give me a straight answer, and no two doctors can agree.

Added onto years of emotional and mental abuse - which is what it was, wasn’t it. Maybe because I’m autistic, maybe it really was that bad. Neglect, sure. Public humiliation, that happened too, I’m pretty sure. Being told flat out that I was stupid and fat and ugly and I was lucky to have any friends at all so maybe I should just shut up and sit down before I ended up with none.

I’m pretty sure that happened. I don’t really remember it though. I don’t really have any memories at all.

Supposedly that’s something that happens with “complex post traumatic stress disorder,” which generally crops up when a person is systematically ground down for a long time until there is nothing left but the stories they told themselves when they tried to explain to the fake audience in their head who they were. How they got that way.

I don’t know who I was, who I could have been if I hadn’t had the life I did. Maybe my memories are skewed.

My therapist didn’t seem to think so, but she also sometimes seemed to think I was full of shit. That’s probably me reading too much into things again. That’s what I do.

Was it really that bad? I remember a lot of screaming, and crying, and hiding, and wishing I was dead or that someone would just hit me already so I would have something to say, to tell people other than “they yell at me and make me cry and sometimes they grab my arms and shake me and sometimes they tell me they’ll throw me out onto the street to fend for myself and sometimes they tell me they love me so much they’re so sorry and then sometimes they cry”.

But how much of that was me? How much was that my perception of things? Am I really that crazy, or have I really been gaslit that much? Is it gaslighting if they didn’t even realize how much pain they caused you, which is why they say “it wasn’t that bad stop exaggerating”?

Did I imagine all of it?

If I did, if I didn’t, what was real? What had the weight I felt it carry? What should have been a minor blip in my life but instead metastasized into a catastrophe?

I don’t know. Maybe I never knew. Reality hasn’t ever been my friend.

Fantasy is so much better.

It’s painful now, though. To read some of these stories, these books I used to adore.

Stories about Mature Adult Women of 25! Whole! Years! Going on adventures and meeting their soulmates and having wonderful happy lives.

I’m spiraling. It’s late. I’m tired and a little high, wishing I was higher and maybe I wouldn’t be so bored.

Bilbo was middle aged, wasn’t he? When he went on his adventure? He had an adventure, and then he came home and had a long, rich, happy, lonely, bitter life. Hmm. Perhaps the one ring is not the best foundation for a guiding principle.

I went to law school because I’d come to the end of every plan I actually had. (You don’t really plan for a future when you’ve been suicidal since before puberty.) I figured I’d get to read and write at least reasonably interesting things, make good money, maybe even make a difference.

I’ve been a paralegal for the same law firm I worked for right out of college for two years now and I have never felt more like a shambling corpse.

When I graduated from college, I couldn’t get a job. Could I have tried harder? Sure. Is executive dysfunction a bitch? You bet.

So I worked for a family friend’s law firm. Personal injury and medical malpractice. She’s the mother of my older sister’s oldest best friend and has employed all of my mother’s three daughters.

She’s also a heinous bitch and a terrible boss. Her employees have a shelf life of about 2 years. I’ve hit my expiration date. Once you’ve audibly cried during a phone conference, you’re really near the bottom. Once she decides you suck at your job, there’s no coming back. Either you quit or you get fired. She prefers when people quit so she can blame them and not feel guilty. So she just increasingly treats people worse and worse until they quit in self defense.

I worked for her for a year. It was awful. I became an alcoholic and gained 25+ lbs.

I decided to go to law school.

I moved to New Orleans.

I made friends. I had an apartment all to myself. I had a life I actually enjoyed.

Then I graduated.

And I couldn’t get a job again.

(Of course, all of this is underpinned with my cyclical periods of intense illness, often accompanied by being hospitalized and missing long periods of school. In college and in law school, actually.)

(All the cocaine and drinking didn’t help either.)

(Ah, New Orleans. How I miss thee.)

So I ended up at the same firm again. Living with my parents. Again.

Then I passed the bar.

Now I’m doing the same work as my younger sister, for the same amount of money. (When she graduated from her masters program and was unemployed for 6 months, I convinced my boss to hire my younger sister again, and my sister to work for my boss again after a semi-disastrous summer job.)

(To be fair, while I’m technically a licensed attorney, she has a masters in education, so it’s not like there’s a massive education disparity here.)

(It doesn’t help that I’m barred in a different jurisdiction than the one my firm typically works in, so there aren’t any cases I can really work on as an attorney, and then on top of that my bosses don’t want to pay for malpractice insurance for me so I’m not allowed to practice as an attorney or put that I’m an attorney or call myself an attorney or even put in my letterhead that I’m licensed in the District of Columbia.)

Then there was a pandemic, and I decided I probably shouldn’t try to make a huge life change during a pandemic.

The pandemic is still fucking here. Nearly. Two. Years. Later.

So I guess I have to make a new plan.

Can I be a lawyer? I guess we’ll see.

I don’t really want to, though. I’m burned out and I wasn’t even practicing.

I want to move to a beach and write a novel and actually have a life I enjoy.

The problems with this plan are numerous. Not only is inertia an incredibly powerful enemy of mine, but I’ve lost all imagination.

I cannot imagine a future in which I am happy. Will I kill myself? Probably not, at least not for a long while. I’ve thought too long and hard about the long-lasting, far-reaching repercussions it would have. (Say what I will about my family, at least it’s always been clear that my death is NOT an acceptable outcome.)

I want to find my imagination again. I want to be able to imagine not only a future in which I am happy, but other futures, other worlds. I want to be able to dream, not only for me, not only for reality, but for unreality. I want to create worlds in my mind again, and allow them to take whatever shapes they wish.

I don’t know if I can. I don’t know if all those horrible teachers, all those “peer editors” in fucking elementary school were right, and my story ideas are hackneyed and overwrought.

Wouldn’t it be nice, though, if they were wrong. Wouldn’t it be nice, to start writing, and to find that my imagination didn’t go so very far.

It’s been hiding in the intertwined branches of a birch grove, slim and tall and ringing with laughter. In the space between stars. Down the path shaded with wisteria and jasmine and honeysuckle, where the scent and the heat and the humidity are so thick you can feel the heavy perfume coating your lungs. Tucked away, safe, waiting to peek out. Waiting to creep down the wrinkled bark of a huge old oak and wink at the little girl playing among its roots.

I hope it is there. I hope I can find it.

I’ll keep you posted.

This is my own personal void to yell into, after all.

#on writing #my life #a memoir lol

[wittykahitcorny]

Confession: Depression

I have this one friend na nagsabi sa akin na he is experiencing depression right now. Naalala ko na I've also experienced it before. 2008. After ko mawalan ng work and suffered heartbreak I've experienced changes in my mental behavior that affects the way I act. In an instant kasi nawala yung bagay na karaniwan kong ginagawa nung nawalan ako ng work. Nabago ang lifestyle ko. To think of it, di naman ganun kabigat yung reason ng depression ko. Siguro nag build up lang sa akin dahil matagal akong nag keep ng bagay sa sarili ko. Na stress ako, I've felt frustrated and useless. Hanggang dumating sa point na nahihirapan na akong kumain at di na ako nakatulog in a month. Pero never ko naman naiisip mag suicide.

The first thing I did is accepting the fact that I am experiencing depression. Then i seek medical help. Ang hirap kasi sa ating mga pinoy once na pumunta ka sa psychiatrist or psychologist ang unang pumapasok sa isip nila ay baliw ka. Pag may nakita nga baliw sa kalsada sinasabi na matalino yan dati. Yung iba naman sasabihin na wala kang depression kasi sakit lang yan ng mayayaman. Walang pinipiling tao ang sakit na to. Kaya marami tuloy sa atin yung natatakot magpatingin. We should take mental illness seriously kasi it is also a health issue. Mahirap din to like having physical illness. You're having a hard time controlling your emotions due to pain, anxieties, despair, worries, fears, grievances, loss and frustrations. It consumes you. Back sa story ko. The first doctor na nagpatingin ako gave me sleeping pills. Effective yung pills. Oo, nakakatulog ako anytime. Wala na akong ibang ginawa kundi matulog maghapon. Hindi na rin ako kumakain. Of course unhealthy yun. Di naman totally nawawala yung problema. Naghanap ulit ako ng ibang doctor. Working siya under rural health unit na may free check up every 1st monday of the month. Sabi niya sa akin na i should let all my worries out. All the emotions na nararamdaman ko. I need an outlet. Most of you didnt really know that im an introvert. I hate crowds and i only have small circle of real friends. The only way na naisip ko is to talk to someone. During that time wala ako masyadong friends. Nanjan naman nanay ko at nasasabihan ko ng problema pero parang may awkward moment pa rin. Di pa uso social media. Wala pang mga games sa smartphones. Kaya wala masyadong libangan nun. Mali rin ako kasi di ko nagawang lumapit kay Lord nung time na yun. And that is when i started praying at night before going to sleep. Ang naisip ko na lang na way ay magsulat. Yun ang way ko to express myself lalo na yung mga bagay na di ko kayang sabihin. Basta raw magsulat lang ako ng kahit ano. Yung kung ano tumatakbo sa isip ko, yung nangyari sa akin ng araw na yun at ano ang gusto mangyari in the future. Nakatulong siya kasi nakabawas siya ng bigat sa nararamdaman ko. Up to now yun pa rin ang way of ko to de-stress. Nagpopost ako dito sa fb pero mas madalas sa tumblr kasi masyadong mga judgmental tao sa fb. After nun i decided to go to college. Mas lumawak mundo ko at mas dumami friends ko. May mga frustrations, fears at worries pa rin pero nakakaya ko na kasi malaking bagay yung may pinagkakaabalahan ka at may mga friends kang nakakasama. Habang sinusulat ko to, im thinking of the psychiatrist who helped me. I wanna see her to say thanks and to let her know im doing okay.

Why i am even saying this? Di naman ako sikat at ordinaryong tao lang ako. Lahat kasi tayo pwede makaranas or nakakaranas ng depression. Hindi naman agad natin to mapapansin lalo na kung babalewalain lang natin. So kung feel mo patong patong na stress mo at may tendency na mauuwi yan sa depression ay need mo na agad agapan. Depression is a serious mental illness na nakaka affect sayo negatively. Kung ikaw ay nalulungkot, nawawalan ng pag asa, hindi interesado sa bagay bagay, walang ganang kumain, hirap matulog at nag ooverthink, pwedeng depression na yan. Iba iba rin nagtitrigger ng depression. Pwedeng nawalan ka ng work, toxic sa workplace, heartbroken, kawalan ng pera, nawalan ng mahal sa buhay. Lalo na nowadays ang dali ma depress dahil sa pandemic. Anxiety. Dami nating worries dahil sa covid.

Pero marami din namang ways para labanan ang depression. Madaming ways para maging busy like watching netflix, kdramas and anime at Mobile games. Iba iba tayo ng hilig at libangan at pwedeng yun ang gawin mo to keep your mind and yourself busy and occupied. Pero minsan di pa rin yun sapat. May mga times pa rin na bigla yang aatake out of nowhere. The best way pa rin is to pray. Whenever you felt something bad or wrong just talk to God. You can also talk to your friends. Psycho therapy or talk therapy. There is always that one friend na makikinig sayo. Yung di ka ijajudge. You are not alone. Don't ever try to escape the problem. If di mo kaya mag isa, tawag ka resbak.

Help yourself. You know yourself well than anybody does. Sayo magsisimula ang healing. Sayo magstart na wag masyado mag overthink. Nanjan ang family and friends mo. Negative mind will not give you a positive life. Uso ngayon law of attraction. Just think of things positively na makukuha mo at kaya mo. Dont think of things that is far beyond your control. If it didnt fall in places where you want it to be just let it be. It happened kasi may purpose yun.

Kung di pa rin sapat lahat ng sinabi ko dito heto ang national mental health hotlines ng DOH.

09663514518

09178998727

09086392672