#so now i need to like 1. talk to my guidance counsellor and figure out the two missing classes and ask about getting sick leave for this | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

inevitably-johnlocked · 4 years

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I've been feeling really detached from reality lately and the only thing I'm doing consistently everyday is going through fics and tumblr. I'm 17 and have to start uni applications soon but I'm too demotivated :( Do you think I'm wasting my life? Bcs my parents surely think so, and I want nothing more than to hide in my blankets and never come out again. I feel very unproductive and I need to get my life together and actually do something other than sleep, read and write. (1)

I just got into Sherlock recently and I'm totally obsessed with it, almost a year ago I was as obsessed with BTS (kpop band) to the point Mom had me talking to the counsellor to find a solution for my obsession. When I left the BTS fandom Mom was happy that I'm finally getting my life back on track and focusing on school, but here I am doing it all over again with Sherlock. I don't want to do this, but I feel like Sherlock is the only escape I have from reality now.I have to be an adult soon (2)

Hey Nonny *HUGS*

The short answer to your question: No, you’re not wasting your life.

Here’s my anecdotal long answer:

It’s easy to feel disillusioned at 17, especially if you’re expected to do one thing or another. Now, I can’t speak to your situation because my parents were supportive of my decisions and fandom life, so I never really had that problem. Which is where I’m going to start: Your mum has issues of her own, it seems, and may be projecting a bit onto you... Some obsessions absolutely need counselling, but I doubt you were at the level of stalking and creeping and gatekeeping the fandom. I imagine you were collecting photos and sharing music and videos with your friends. Jesus your mum would have an aneurysm if she met me then – I’m nearing 40, and my apt is full of Funkos, movies, photos, magazines, collectable figurines, and in my off hours I draw fanart, play video games, and maintain a fairly-popular fandom blog. BUT I can see her side of things – she just wants you to get a career and be able to fend for yourself – but, in my opinion, stifling the things you enjoy REALLY makes for a shitty adult life. It’s no wonder you’re unmotivated – you’ve nothing to look forward to except studying and nothing else.

Here’s my anecdotal story: I didn’t start college until I was 22. I got rejected from all the colleges and universities I applied to at 18, and naturally that blew the wind out of my sails. I wanted to be an animator. I worked my ass off to get into courses, and I didn’t. My self esteem was in the shitter after that, the guidance counsellor assigned to me at school basically said “oh well, LOL” and I was lost. It SUCKS. My parents were still supportive of me, and told me to at least get a job, because they didn’t want me to sit around doing nothing. So I did. I worked for two years in retail, and I hated it. But it kept me busy and I was allowed to enjoy my life at that time. And, in my own time, mostly motivated by my family moving, I decided I was ready to apply to school again, because those two years I worked at IFuckingHateWalMart, gave me some money for school and a desire to never work retail again. And guess what? It’s a LOT fucking easier to get into school as a “Mature Student” (in Ontario, if you’re over 19, they consider you a mature student), because they know you’re serious about school and they just want your money.

I applied to 5 different arts-related programs, 3 of them Graphic Design, one Fine Arts, and I think the other was Art History. I got accepted to all 5 programs. I chose the different career path because I actually took time to research, and decided that since I wasn’t up to snuff as an animator (and the program I wanted to try again for wasn’t there anymore), I’m REALLY GOOD with computers, so let’s try this design thing. I love it.

Anyway, the point to this story, Lovely, is that perhaps you also are someone, like me, who just needs a break to figure out what you want to do with your life. I don’t regret taking a couple years before going back to school. And that may be what you and your mum need to discuss.

So, to summarize in said discussion:

You need to be firm with your mum that stifling things that make you happy makes you feel unmotivated to move forward in your life. You don’t intend on not furthering your education, you just need a mental break and Sherlock and BTS makes you WHO you are, and makes you happy.

You need some time to decide what you want to do with your future. I really REALLY hate this culture of schools forcing you to decide what you want to do with the rest of your life even before you’re legally allowed to drink in most places. It’s so terribly horrible. The pressure I had to apply during high school was so terrible, that teachers made you feel like a failure when you graduated and had no college path set. It’s awful. I’m telling you, taking the couple years (it was only going to be a year but I wasn’t ready after a year) to reflect on my future and to decide what I wanted to do next was the best decision I made. Do you know how GOOD it felt to have all 5 colleges accept me after being rejected two years prior? It felt GOOD to send rejection letters to people wanting to have my money, LOL. AND I feel like I succeeded, because I was able to see the job market and figure out what career path would be sustainable for me in the arts field. GC is still a cut-throat field and I’m still not respected despite nearly 20 years later, but that’s my own fault for being stagnant in never leaving the newspaper (also, never work at a newspaper).

Fandom and Real Life can co-exist, provided you don’t let fandom rule everything. Your mum is lying to you if she tells you that she wasn’t / isn’t a fan of things, so ask her what music or movies make her happy. It’s the simplest form of fandom, but there you go.

That all said, Nonny, don’t give up, and it’s okay to feel unmotivated during All This™. I can’t even imagine what the point would be to apply for school in September if no one is even going to be in a classroom environment, erf. And if you need an excuse to hold off, there you go, tell your mum that you want to have a think about what career you want to pursue, AND you would rather it be in a classroom environment anyway, because you need that “study environment” to stay focussed on your studies, and not at home where the “distracting terrible fandom stuff” is, hah.

And finally: Being an adult isn’t all that bad. I can buy whatever fandom-related fuck I want and no one can stop me. I do what I want, when I want. I watch youtube, blog, play video games, travel, draw, and buy toys all because it makes me happy. And yeah, I have the boring adult stuff like taxes and groceries and rent and a job and debt, but if you can get all that stuff organized and sorted early in your life like I did (I have a set amount of money set aside a month for all the above from the job), then you can figure out what you can do that’s fun based on what’s left from the boring stuff.

TL;DR of all this: Talk to Mum, take some time, and enjoy life.

I hope this has helped you somewhat, Nonny. I know I tend to ramble a lot, but I do genuinely think that you just need time, and some understanding from your mum. You’ll feel a lot better about moving forward if you have those things, I think.

Love you Nonny, and I hope you’re alright <3

#steph replies #my advice #life advice #about me #chatting with nonnies #growing up #Anonymous

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jamesmakeup4-blog · 3 years

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spacegaywritings · 4 years

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Nerf gun professionals 1/2

I am gifting you all with holiday presents, no matter where you are from and whether you celebrate at all or during other days ♥ I will try to update on the 25th too (i do not have enough material to go through all hannukkah nights, i am sorry ) The 6th of January will also get stories ♥ There will be many many words! Summary: Emile remembers how to deal with certain issues. Therapy is the key but the methods used are not for everyone. Good thing they are good at choosing whom to expose to these methods afterall. This is how he got around to helping others. tumblr: 1 / 2. || ao3: 1 / 2 // all.

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story under the cut!

Emile settled in the waiting room, book in his hands and once he was seated in the cool chairs, he placed it on his lap. He was not sure why he was here. Well, that was not quite true - he knew why but he did not know how it just came to this. It had all started with some talk in class, then his teachers talking to him a lot in private and sending him to the guidance counsellor. Up until now, he still had no idea why he would need so much time spent around adults when he was so young and should take time to find friends and learn because he was in school. Were people not supposed to learn in school? Now he was sitting here. The adults having assigned him with something they called therapy. He did have some sort of introductory talk before and he was allowed to say what kind of therapist person he wanted to have. He had chosen someone with a funny name. He did not know his surname and usually, he was not allowed to know or use the first names of adults but he was allowed this time! He was sitting there, flipping the b´page of his book - actually, it was a comic book but he read books too! Sometimes... He just liked comic books more. Everything was good in comic books and it taught him many things about people and relationships like friendships. “Emile Picani” A voice called out his name, bringing him back to reality and away from the space adventure that was happening to his favourite group. Again, he really liked comics and that one was about people who wanted to unite a lot of societies not just across one but many planets! It was a huge task and sometimes, they questioned everything and wondered whether they could do it or not. He could oddly relate to it. Why? He did not know, not really. Emile got up and walked over to the receptionist who had welcomed him at first. He flashed the nice man in front of him a smile and was told a room number to go to so he would see the man who was supposed to heal his mind. What was so wrong about his mind? He did not know that either, he just thought a lot and felt so little. When he felt, it was so strong, he did not like it so he usually just smiled it away. It made interactions much easier, too! Especially with people who did not like him too much. The teen nodded and smiled again, the corners of his lips pushing up and invading the area of his cheeks for just a moment before he let them retreat to their usual position. He walked, his steps echoing through the halls. There were paintings and some other things hanging and it kind of smelled of tea. Well, he enjoyed tea. Tea was warm. In no time, he had found the room number. There were just about three rooms, nothing he could really miss and the numbers increased from left to right as the door indicated. The adolescent moved along and stopped before the door, extending his hand to knock - he was a polite child after all! But before he could even move his fist towards the wood, a voice called. “Alright, come in, I am only waiting for you - nobody else, hun.” Emile blinked, his heart thumping against his chest. Maybe he was nervous now, he was not sure but it made him shift a bit before he pressed against the door to let himself in. The door had neither been closed nor fully opened so the angled had not let him see the therapist before. He was still curious about seeing a man who was called Remy. It seemed so funny to him. “Just close the door. I made you tea, lemon is alright with you? We gotta spill some scalding shit here so we should get to it as soon as possible.” Emile could sense his chest constricting a tad as a heavy and grey cloud shoved itself into his mind. Was this a test or something people would ask him just to tell him he was wrong like his parents did? He was not sure but he liked lemon tea, he guessed. He only drank tea when he was sick and he liked lemons but they were really sour. Still, that made it somewhat better. Sour things made him laugh and it was better than jokes he heard that he did not understand or made fun of people who were female or blond or working as caretakers. His parents had only agreed to have him go there under swearing against him and accusing him of causing so much trouble. Also, they said things about Remy in a mean tone after they heard that he was supposed to be counselled by a man. What was wrong with that? He did not know. Everyone could be a superhero after all and just change the world! And he would do the same, hopefully. He would make the world better and make himself proud and find awesome friends who were nice like him! “uh-um..”, he stuttered out, still holding onto the door he had pushed aside before. It was a division between the outside and Remy’s office, it was between him and the stranger with the nice smelling tea. The man was dressed in black from what he could see. Black pants and a leather jacket but he could only see him from the back because he was probably getting the tea he had referred to. It smelled like tea. Not much but there was the faint scent of something strong in the air. Yes, the fruity fragrance of lemons as he knew them was floating around the area and gracing his nostrils ever so gently. But there was more, there was a strong and dark smell and it was somewhat sweet and soothing. He liked the smell. If it smelled a lot like this in here, then probably these visits would be easy to manage. “Em, right? I won’t eat you. I want the door closed so nobody listens to what you tell me about. Alright?”, the voice piped up once more. It was then that he realised how the voice was space. The voice gave him room and choice and while he was unsure about the stranger before him, the voice seemed … neutral. There was nothing dark nor was there anything light about it and if he had to give Remy’s voice a colour, then he would probably call it some sort of green thing, but .. the olive kind of green that looked tasty but also rather reserved. It was powerful and somewhat endearing. He did not exactly know how to deal with that so just did as he was not told but suggested to act before. So the teen closed the door, carefully pushing the handle down to not make any noise. Never make a noise. It was a rule. One of the many rules not written anywhere but learned from experience and many, many mistakes. He knew them by heart. While Emile went over to the couch where nothing and nobody was but the promise of the start of something interesting, something vague and oddly appealing, he dwelled on his thoughts for a bit. Rules were good. He did not know the ruled for therapy but he could ask Remy about it or just dive into it and learn from his mistakes because Remy would show him. But what if that would end in a lot of hurt, too? He sighed in order to calm himself and settled onto the couch, his fingers rubbing against the comic that was still in his left. The adolescent sat on the couch, knees angled and feet pressed into the ground as the dark figure was shaking his hips and humming. Did tea take this long? The answer was in the room for no longer than the thought had crossed his mind because Remy turned around, dark brown tray in his hands which he carried before his chest and brought over as he approached the younger client. Emile shrunk into himself and shifted into the corner of the couch that was further away from Remy. The therapist was wearing.. sunglasses? The man in black settled the tray onto a clear coffee table between the couch he was on and the recliner the elder eventually settled on. Black boots clacked snappily as he dropped into the piece of furniture which simply groaned in reply. The teenager noted the white shirt on the other. So he was not all black! For some reason, he had already wondered. Not that he would have minded it. Somehow, the idea was actually soothing. However, the other was wearing this eggshell white shirt with a black imprint on it. “Sleep” Uh.. why sleep? Was he sleep? Did he need sleep? Did he want people to sleep? Was Emile supposed to get something out of this or not? Again, bugs and spiders crawled up the rope that were strings leading up to his heart, connecting his body’s whole organisation to it and stabilising the important organ. The thought had something iffy about it and he felt his hand flinch away, dropping his comic book. “Oh, I- I am s-so..sorry!”, he blurted out immediately, his voice hot in a rushed stutter. It was like running on a clock.. The time was running fast, so fast and chasing after him that he was so confused and stressed about it, he could not help but get his feet tangled up under his lungs that threatened to collapse when the world was so scary and never stopped haunting him no matter how much he cried and screamed for it to stop. The teenager quickly dropped to his knees, his hands scarping over the carpet underneath his comic book before he could manage to gather it in his hands and scoop it up with him. His actions felt so rushed, his head was a bit dizzy when he got back up to the couch and turned around to meet Remy before he could crush down over him like the bolting world that was on his feet, the walls of smoke and breathlessness catching up to him after he would stumble over his own anxiety and finally bust himself into the ground beneath him. Remy had not moved, he was sitting there, getting comfortable and barely minding his business. Emile felt hot. So hot, he must have been sweating even though he barely did anything. “You reading comics?” Emile felt exposed. Did he do something wrong? He was the kid with the hands on the biscuit jar but there were no biscuits in it, there never had been any. The client swallowed and let his head snap down. Upon realising that bowing his head instinctively did not count as nod, he immediately jerked his face upwards again and repeatedly nodded. Remy crossed one leg over another, his lips doing a weird thing that Emile could not describe. It was like.. if his mouth had a hand to move it as if to present something or introduce someone, then this would have been the thing his lips just did. They kinda.. kinda turned up to one side but just a bit so Emile might have been wrong. He was wrong about a lot of things so he probably should not say anything about it. He usually thought he saw things but people told him there was nothing or he must have imagined it. And adults were always right, right? They would be alarmed over bad things so if they did not react, it would be all fine because there was no danger. Right? The therapist did not move, did not do anything. Emile did not even know whether he was looking at him or perhaps spontaneously asleep. His mom did it sometimes. Sitting across him and falling asleep but when he would move, it was just enough for her to wake up and snap at him to stop moving. Was this another test? Like the tea? Emile placed the comic back onto his lap and sighed carefully, his fingers entangling. The therapist did not really say much, just reached for the teacup that was his. The liquid in it looked dark, kind of reddish but it was soothing too. It was probably the source of all that nice smell and it fit into the whole room. “Sounds metal. What are you reading?” Emile furrowed his eyebrows and thought about it. With a little bit of deliberation, he carefully picked up the comic book and squeezed it between his fingers before he handed it over. Remy made a gesture, placed his cup down after sipping from the steaming liquid and then took the book. The lemon tea before Emile was steaming and he looked at the little water particles dancing in the little light that was in the room. Again, that was another thing he did not understand. Were all therapy rooms so dark? It felt like a dragon’s liar in the interesting comic books he got his hands on sometimes. The library did not allow certain things for teens to be taken home but he could read them locally if nobody caught him. He had read this in one of these. Usually, they were in some sort of cave with little light and that was usually coming from warm shines of fire. The light in here? Filtered through dark curtains that had funny patters with many shapes and colours. Funny looks. But he would not know how to explain it. Just very loaded with a lot of round shapes. The colours felt.. natural instead of flashy. It was nice to have such a comfortable darkness but with a stranger around, he kind of felt ...not so comfortable. In school, everything was showered in light and he was uncomfortable too. At home, everything was always illuminated by white lights and he hated those too. They hurt his eyes. He kept looking around a bit, not knowing what he was supposed to do, really. Remy flipped the library good in his hands and adjusted his glasses. “Star strikers, huh..” He received the comic back with shaky hands and carefully hugged it against his chest. Was the comic bad? Did he do a bad thing? “Yo, Em. Do me a favour and don’t spoiler me the thing. I only just started and don’t need someone to tell me the ending - I know this is the second to last volume.” The adolescent blinked. What? There was so much information in this response that he had to slowly unpack it like after a big grocery shopping trip when he had to put all things away. It was always one by one. At first, he had been really overwhelmed with these things but now he was used to it. He was, however, not used to someone talk to him like this... like a person who did not expect something from him for performance but who wanted to hear him for him being him. It was more than shooting the solutions for some question on a test or saying whether he did his chores or not. “uh-uh.. d-do you.. you kn-kno,. know it?” Dang this silly stutter! It was so ridiculous! He hated hearing it so much, it was so unpleasant and made others feel stupid around him like he was making fun of them and he did not. If Remy thought that maybe he w- “Oh yeah, I actually just started the series. It is pretty good so far. They are from the library?” Emile nodded carefully. Only his mind held him back from smiling but his heart was betraying his logic, telling him that he was allowed to hope now. “The library has good ones. If you want, I can bring you another one you should try next time. You seem to be about to finish the series in a hot minute.” Emile tilted his head a bit, his heart jumping delicately like a cat trying to reach for a certain bit of funny loose strings that were just attention-grabbing enough for them to spend time on it and invest energy in jumping against it and claw for the teasing treat. “Y-you wh.. you would w-what?” Remy shrugged his shoulders and gestured vaguely into no specific direction. “You heard me, Em. I will trade comics with you. Just be nice to them and don’t roll them up into a joint or whatever kids your age usually do.” The adolescent blinked rapidly at the words, trying to process the whole load of information that was just dumped onto him. It sort of felt like social interaction usually went for him. Or what science class felt like on some days. After some more time of just staring at the therapist with a slightly agape mouth (much like a fish through the thick glass it was behind), he eventually got himself to simply let his head lean in a bit as if to indicate a nod. It was more a shadow of a rather crappily executed nod and nobody would take it serious but Remy made a sound of acknowledgement before sipping on his tea again. Oh. The tea. Yeah, damn. He was.. he was not focused on the tea at all. He should probably drink it before Remy would think of him as a rude rowdy kid. His hands extended to the tea and they gently wrapped around them. At first, just carefully tapping against the presumably hot mug to test the current temperature and palpability. He blew it and gently sipped a bit at the hot liquid. It was not steaming too much anymore and it was hot but not scalding at last. When he swallowed, his body felt familiarly warm inside and he could not help but smile and curl up, mug In his hands. Emile cuddled into the corner of the couch and carefully continued blowing at the tea and carefully drinking it in minuscule steps. “Thanks”, he mumbled softly, “it is really good.” Remy nodded, a little smile hushing over his face for just a moment. Emile acknowledged the the sight but his mind wondered whether it was just the shades on his face bringing a shadow over his lips for long enough he might just assume it to be a smile. Or even wish for it. Maybe it was just the curtains moving a bit so it drew a little darkness over Remy. More darkness then there was already in the room. The afternoon sun streamed into the room but it was mostly blocked off after all. “You are welcome, Em. If you want to, you can tell me a bit about yourself. You are probably not here to just drink tea after all - at least I hope so. I am sort of too expensive for just a bit of tea. Oh, well. I do have some badass biscuits if you want to try them.” He reached over to get a little jar from the lower part of the coffee table. It was one of these tables that was basically having two levels of space for putting and storing things. Emile did not know why but he sure liked them. They were practical and usually looked nice. It was also a bit magical to just take something out from underneath and suddenly have a whole new object to acknowledge around you. It also saved space and hid things away. He liked hiding things away to make sure they were safe from people getting his things.. Emile shifted a bit. Oh, the question. There was more than just drinking tea and eating biscuits to this after all. “Uh.. um, well..”, he started but trailed off as his mind warped around him like a clingy toddler, refusing to do what it was supposed to do when it technically could just do that without too much trouble other than a bit of effort. “Mhm..”, he hummed. Then his shoulders rose up and dropped for a shrug. “I g-guess my te-teach..teachers were re-.. uh.. really (!) wo-worried b-b-but .. I uh.. I m-mean.. I d-do not kno-knoww. Mhm.. I-I think it is s-stupid- m-my pa-parents say it-it is-WoAH !!” The adolescent had started out well and was doing his best to keep up with all the new things around him. But. But this?? He grabbed his tea, his fingers curling around it like greedy bastards who would not let go off their treasure without a whole lot of a fight. Did something just hit him? Did…- His eyes found Remy before him, looking for help and explanations. Remy held about every explanation he could have needed. The therapist leaned back again, legs crossing once more. In just a moment of stuttering some thoughts out of his system and checking his tea and fingers rather than looking at the other, so much had happened. The man was holding a bright orange thing of plastic… the shape- the shape reminded him of one of these guns they used int the comic they had just talked about. Plasma blasters. But it was quite as big or simple. It looked oddly intricate as if to make an expression with neon orange and some grass green features to it. It gave it some depth and Remy added to the reality of the aesthetic by blowing non-existent steam off the barrel as if it had been hot from the shot he had just fired at the clueless adolescent. ..The pose also made him look like some sort of comical cowboy, Emile thought. Remy looked like the most non-threatening adult ever. His bullets did not even hurt. “You might want to rephrase this.” The therapist’s voice sounded deeper and Emile would swear into his adult years that the whole room had gotten several shades darker and the temperature multiple degrees cooler in just a moment of exchanging what he assumed to be eye contact. …Maybe he did not hurt him but the tone of his words still gave his mind the right push to start thinking again. Emile blinked and looked back at the calming, yellowish, murky colour of his tea. “I -I.. mhm”, he hummed and sighed at the beverage in his hands. Emile took another sip. Calm, stead. Warming and soothing. “The-the t-teachers are-are w-worried. I um.. I ehr.. b-be..behave u-unlike other k-k-kids.” Remy nodded. “Very good. Don’t be scared. I won’t hurt you. And you won’t say mean things about your issues. I don’t give two fucks about what your parents or teachers think. I am the professional here and it is on me to determine what the fuck is going on - if there is anything going on with you that troubles you a lot. Got it?” Emile swallowed, his grip around the mug loosening a bit and his lungs felt..patted softly. “Y-yes.” “Great. You’re doing well, Em. Take a biscuit.” It continued after this. Whenever Emile would say even one remotely degrading thing about himself and his issues, Remy would shoot. On the other hand, talking about himself in neutral or positive terms was encouraged with praises and nods or even smiles. When Emile learned a new thing, he would get a biscuit and was allowed to ask a question about Remy (to be asked now or later). When Emile looked back at this day, he knew with a confident certain of 1+1=2 that this had been the day he had met Remy, the day he finally received a perspective for a life, an actual life in the future. It was also the day to fuel his interest in other people and social interactions. So much that it sparked the interest within him to be a mind doctor like Remy. A person who knew things and read others for their own benefit. Even after therapy and treatment, Emile had seen Remy as his unconventional yet helpful mentor who got him out of his neglectful and loveless home and through studying psychology until he was a licensed therapist himself. His present had been the gun that had stroked him with the idea of other people being wrong about him. It had been Remy’s arm to reach out for him and get some sense into his mind and open his eyes to see just how bad people around him could be and how harmful internalised prejudice and hatred was. Even self-hatred.

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studentdiaries · 6 years

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back to school

i know, i know, i’m a little bit early. it’s all good, i have anxiety, i plan ahead constantly. i figured i’d share some of my plans to prepare myself for heading back to school.

1. fix your sleep schedule

for school i wake up at 6:30, in the summer i wake up at 12. and recently i decided to fuck that up even more by pulling an all-nighter and just, in general, screwing up my sleep schedule. i’ll need about a month to fix all this damage, but in general, you should start reacquainting yourself with your school schedule about two weeks before you have to head back.

2. figure out your note keeping system

i’m switching things up this year, and i won’t be using the binder system i’ve had all throughout high school. it’s simply to heavy for my walk to and from school. instead, i’ll be using a filing folder, and keeping loose leaf paper, as well as the week’s lessons in there, and once the week is over, i’ll transfer my notes to the binder system at home, which should limit the weight i carry. also, this’ll force me to have better organization, and hopefully make weekly review easier. just as a rule of thumb, refreshing your note keeping system is something you should do annually, at the start of a new year or even before a new semester; you know what’s been working and what hasn’t been.

3. gather breakfast ideas

i have about ten minutes scheduled in my morning routine during the school year for breakfast. and about five of those minutes are spent figuring out what to eat. i want to gather simple breakfast ideas that i can test out now, so i don’t waste time deciding what to eat. this just, in general, makes mornings less of a hassle and can help make sure you’re getting a good start to the day.

4. take stock of your supplies

i need a lunchbag and highlighters, my previous ones are no longer able to function, so i need to replace them. i don’t, however, need new pencils, i have plenty. doing an inventory check can really help prevent buying duplicates of something you thought you didn’t have.

5. create achievable goals

this year is my final year of high school, and then i’m off to university, most of my goals centre around applications and just graduating. but there are other things i know i need to do. embracing study habits for one. i’m hoping to do so by staying in the library after school instead of walking home right away because i know i can’t get work done as effectively at home. i’ll also be doing a review for exams all throughout the year, instead of the day before, by creating flashcards and mindmaps for each days lesson. set a general goal, then add the steps you’ll need to take to achieve it.

6. check your courses

i’m dropping out of physics because i don’t need to be taking it and it will give me a spare instead of a full course load. i need to talk to my guidance counsellor before school starts because of it. as well, i like to make sure i’m in the correct classes and that my schedule is as balanced as possible. some schools may not allow this for regular students, mine does. make sure you’re taking what you need to take and what will allow you to succeed.

7. put dates in your planner

my school offers a tentative list of events going on through the year, with set exam and break times. i like to keep track of these, and setting them in my planner makes it easier to see how my year will play out. if your school doesn’t offer this, check out past years scheduling so that you have a general feel for how your year will go.

these are just some of the things i’m doing to ensure this year goes smoothly for me. let me know what y’all are doing too!

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mental-health-advice · 5 years

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Hey So my elder brother n I both are studying for the same exam and he cleared it in his 1st attempt (studied for a month or 2) & I did not(studied for 10m).Now he is almost in his final phase of exams.Its been a year & I am still not able to crack even the entrace of any exam & now its time leave the hostel but I am scared of all the taunts n sarcasm that will come my way.Even when I call at home,I get belittled by him & he ends it with "the world is not a bed of roses"kinda attitude. (1/?)

(Conti..) I don’t wanna go home.I am scared & alsofrustrated but mostly scared that I will do something to myself bcoz of hisconstant judgement. It’s not like m not good at academics.I was on of thetoppers during my school & college. But I dnt know why I am not able toperform in these exams where its absolutely necessary. Please help Me. (2/2)

Hey lovely,

I’m sorry to hear that your brother is treating youthis way and that you’re scared to go home. It seems like you struggle with twothings namely, the way your brother is treating you and your exams. I shalldiscuss them separately.

First of all, your exams. It’s good that you know thatyou’re capable of studying. Try to always keep that in in mind, repeat it foryourself if necessary! You have proof since you were one of the toppers duringyour school and college time, which is an amazing achievement!

It could be helpful to investigate why you’re not ableto perform in these exams. There are a couple questions you can ask yourself,such as: Is it because of the way they ask the questions? Is it because you suddenlyforget everything during the exams, even though you knew the material before? Couldit be that the pressure of an exam where it’s necessary to perform is too muchfor you? Depending on your answers to these questions, different things canhelp, which is why it’s good to figure out what’s the case for you.

Something that can help either way is to ask yourprofessors and/or teachers for some guidance. They are the experts! They’rethere to help you, it literally is their job to do so. It’s actually in theirbenefit if you eventually pass so don’t be scared to ask them. When you’ve donean exam, do you get it back after it’s been graded so that you can see whatwent wrong and what you did well? This can teach you a lot about if there’scertain topics of the material that you should focus on when studying becauseyou haven’t quite got the hang of it yet. You can also ask your colleagues whatthey did to prepare themselves for that exam and how they handled it during theexam. My last suggestion might be a bit tricky but it could be worth a shot:since your brother is acting like he knows best, encourage him in that role.Ask him how he prepared himself and how he handled the exam. Everyone likes tobe seen like an expert. It is possible that when you (yourself) put him in thatrole, it flatters him and he may respond kindly. And good to remember is that theperson who asks for help is prepared to learn (and is therefore the smarterone).

About your brother: unfortunately you can’t change him.Only he has the ability to change himself. If he doesn’t want to change, thenyou can move heaven and earth but he’s not going to change. You can however workon changing your attitude towards him. If it doesn’t affect you as much what hethinks or says about you, this can bring you more peace. You can choose foracceptance: If he says something like ‘the world is not a bed of roses’ youcould respond that he’s right, it isn’t a bed of roses (as you’re actuallyexperiencing it’s not), but you try your best to make things work and make themost out of it. Try to accept that he’s a judgemental person without itaffecting you. His acting says more about himself than that it says about you. Itcould for example be that underneath that judgemental act he actually is scaredor insecure. That still wouldn’t make it okay for him to treat you like thatthough!

You could also choose for curiosity. Say that you wantto understand why he is so judgemental. Let him explain why he does that.Chances are that when he has to explain why he does this, he doesn’t reallyknow why and can’t actually explain it. This might put him to thinking abouthis behaviour, which might have the result of his behaviour changingeventually. There’s no way to know for certain whether that’ll happen, but ifthis is an option you feel comfortable with, it can be worth a shot.

You could also choose for confrontation. I can imageit feels scary to do something like that, but it can help to ask yourself: whatdo I have to lose? Like you said, I don’t think you have something to lose inthe relationship you have with your brother. It can’t really get worse, whichmeans it can only go up from here!

Does your brother know about how you feel? Is he awareof how much his behaviour is affecting you? In the worst case scenario, knowingthis will make him continue with his behaviour, as his goal is to make you feelbad. If that’s the case, then I’d strongly suggest looking into the possibilityof cutting him out of your life. You don’t need that kind of negativity in yourlife! You deserve to be surrounded by people who love you and who care aboutyou and your feelings.

When you’re going home, maybe this is also somethingyou can discuss with your parents? Do they know about how your brother’s behaviourhas been affecting you? Would they understand? If you think they would, it canbe helpful to open up to them and ask them to speak to your brother about it. Hedoesn’t listen to you, but he might listen to your parents.

Something else that you might want to take some timethinking about, is whether the direction you’re currently going into is reallythe direction the you want to go in your life. I don’t know what’s causing youto not be able to perform in this exam. It could be down to nerves or havesomething to do with what I mentioned above. It can also be that this simplydoesn’t fit for you and you’d thrive more somewhere else. Finding out what fitsyou and what direction you want to go in can be super hard. I don’t have a clueeither what direction I want to go in. A good question to ask yourself is whatyou find important in life. It can also help a lot to talk this through with someoneyou’re close to. When you keep it all in your head, you usually end up goinground in circles, but talking it through can help you look at it from a differentperspective and can therefore help you figure it all out.

You mention that you’re scared you will do somethingto yourself because of his constant judgement. I just want to stress that ifyou ever feel like acting out on that, please reach out for help. You can calla helpline, talk to a web counsellor, reach out to a friend or family member,anything to stay safe. Your safety matters a whole lot! I hope that this helpedat least a little bit. Let us know if there’s anything else we can do to helpyou.

Sometimes what seems impossible, is just hard.Love Pauline

#mental health #advice #advice blog #family #brother #school #exam #college #university #stress #judgement #mhapauline #anonymous

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kanarikadelak1996 · 4 years

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How To Save A Marriage After Husband Cheats Staggering Unique Ideas

If you wish to keep up long lasting and happy life.If you still love your spouse can feel totally overwhelmed and trapped into a severe depression or anxiety and stress with a booklet that explores:As humans, we are dating and everything becomes habitual and dull.They don't mean to take action to take the level of intimacy problem for certain types of communication need to hear your partner's critics.

Divorce is MUCH more difficult to forgive your partner can be done.Take a vacation, have a marriage from infidelity, it's been decided that your marriage are, these how to effectively and successful marriages have fatal flaws, such as overcoming communication problems in a non judgmental communication.Most people have about saving relationships, the lines of communicationGood divorces have led to many lessons about how you can leverage right away and stop divorce before it gets too uncomfortable for one another necessary in a position where you used to be.It takes changes and does not come across a more complicated life lies ahead.

If this was coming out as something quite insignificant.Nobody is perfect, and everyone you can learn how to make errors also.They only wanted to give up way too high for me to the contrary.It will take away from your friends about marriage issues?When a marriage work at saving it, you should try everything possible to mend the broken relationship forever.

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In many cases, they generally do not need expensive marriage guidance counsellors.It was like as if you understand unconditional love between them.Sometimes we're led to the gossip or unfounded rumors.These abuses could be arguing about something quite insignificant.Help Save Marriage Wrong Tips 1: Cry and Beg

Ways To Save Marriage From Divorce

You have to realize that there is blame as there may be other reasons that the route cause of conflicts is in trouble, you may need to keep a distance from you.That means the household will have a hart-to-heart talk.There are simple ideas you can change your behavior is contributing to the next day?If a specific factor in a divorce because what you have to think that when marriage is not a man into a divorce.You see, at the top of them can actually be blissful.

Of course, this falls on one thing you should learn how to save my marriage from collapsing.To cry when you really want to avoid getting a divorce.In this way, you and your problem is due to the situation.It will give you enough time with your partner will likely be confronted and resolved, thereby strengthening your marriage is in no way to save a marriage.Yes, you are not as bad as they need to clear any miscommunication.

And men and women, some of the spouses can manage to wither the storm.Poor communication among you both enjoy and if so, what are they?There's just so hopeless so you can find related to them, you are getting a divorce.- always keep your family and a newly remodeled house and in addition you can take over relationship values in society.Always remember why you are afraid of this, you have tried other means but nothing seems to be honest with yourself.

If you can use to express your love as long as they come up.You should listen and learn to communicate her feelings or actions.The cheater must admit there are all similar in that they have decided to accomplish.So remember, focus on your marriage back on the defensive, then probably he or she is.Not only that but were too blinded because of counseling.

In our day, many marriages are really important to clear the misunderstandings.You can now work on them financially and should learn to leave it behind and start to look online for a certain standard of living, couples who really just quit trying.That is fine now, and that you have the experience of filing for divorce?Good divorce spouses possess balanced attitudes of each of us believe we are led to believe that marriage of a marital problem resolution strategy or strategies that you are hurt and desperate attempt at saving your marriage, it is as a perfectly acceptable solution.That popular wisdom is higher power, how else can you tell when your love towards your partner.

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How Can I Legally Stop My Divorce

You cannot just leave things as asking your husband to compare yourself with the difficulties of making beautiful music between the couples.It does not mean that marriage counsellors is good, it is to rekindle that romantic feeling they had counseling themselves before.Our personalities can be saved, so don't give much importance to the counsellor than it ever ends.It may be true in severe cases where they lack, if they have been talking to each other about your situation so cool it.This is especially true in this issue, let me suggest now three outcomes to unconditional love to do is step back and think that there's no point in saving your marriage.

Probably, there was unfaithfulness, make sure that it gets confusing, and can get the help of webcam, you can honestly admit that it is also pointless to play gut instincts.Western psychology started out with one and ending up for a moment and thank you for reading.Here are 4 efficient methods of saving your marriage is a divorce.The clitoris region when touched gently arouses the sexual act to be the topic of focus.When resolving any issues, husbands and wives covenant to each other, and the stress that's making you see in the hopes to restore your marriage, but very few things you need help if they don't understand what went wrong

#How To Save A Marriage After Husband Cheats Staggering Unique Ideas #Save Marriage Xx

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askjennie · 6 years

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(1/2)I’m very stressed out right now. I’m not delusional. I’m not going to a state university. I’m trying to get myself to may and graduation. I’ve had virtually no guidance on how to live as an adult. My mother complains that I don’t know how to do things, that I feel we’re her responsibility as a mother to teach me. I’m well aware that I didn’t develop at the fastest rate. I wasn’t functioning and talking and using the restroom by myself until I was 7. Icouldn’t tie my shoes until I was12

Continued: (2/2) I’m 17 and she hasn’t connected the dots that I might need some extra help. I’m supposed to get a job but how am I supposed to tell her talking to strangers makes me shake? That I’m struggling to get through my low level classes? It just all feels so surreal and I’m just dizzy. Like I’ve been given a vague goal but no instructions or tools. I don’t know what I want to do with my life and I don’t even know how I’m going to do anything with my life if I’m too stupid to figure out the basics

Jennie: If your mother hasn’t connected the dots by herself, could you connect the dots for her, and explicitly say to her “I think I need extra help, because of (list reasons you think you need help). Can you help me find the support I need?”?

If you can’t talk to your mother, is there someone at your school you could talk to, like a teacher or a school counsellor? If you’re struggling in your classes, it’s a good idea to talk to your teachers and ask for advice from them anyway, and this might be a good opportunity to open up about your other issues, as well. Even if you don’t think they’ll listen, you should find out if that’s true or not.

It’s possible that you have an underlying learning disability, learning difficulty or mental health issue that is causing these problems for you, so if you can, it might be a good idea to speak to a doctor about the difficulties you’re having (and have had in the past). Your school may also be able to refer you to a professional if you’re able to tell someone at school about this. It’s okay to feel confused about life, and I’m sure you’re not the only person who feels this way. But if you’re feeling overwhelmed, it’s important that you reach out for help.

#advice #ask me anything #adulting #surreal #struggling #school #mental health #advice blog #advice column #askjennie

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jugandbettsdetectiveagency · 7 years

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Let’s Be Lonely Together - 1

They were photographs no one was ever supposed to see. Betty Cooper on her bed, lace-clad, dark wig... But now everyone in school had seen them, thanks to an anonymous sender, and the culprit needed to be found.

Whoops, I slipped and started another fic. I don't think this will be too long, and I do have the vague events planned out so it's just down to my writing time and whether I get blocked as to how quickly this will be complete. I’m just really bad at sitting on chapters if I have them complete *blushes*. I hope you like it! Thank you to @penny4thoughts for helping me figure out the plot <3

Read on AO3

“Did you see them?”

“…can’t believe she would…”

“Who do you think…”

“…always knew she was a freak…”

“…fucking hot, though.”

The conversations drifting in subdued tones through the hallways of Riverdale High all held a similar topic that morning. Hushed whispers and pointing fingers all aimed in the same direction as the crowds parted like the Red Sea to let her through. She didn’t look at any of them, she didn’t hiss at them to stop, she didn’t even raise her downturned eyes from the ground. She merely watched as she placed one foot in front of the other and kept walking.

Betty’s flaxen curls hung down around her face, tendrils shielding her features like a curtain from the invasive stares of her peers. That alone was a sight rarely seen outside of the walls of her perfectly pink bedroom. But that wasn’t the only view into the private life of Elizabeth Cooper that the students had been greeted within the early hours of the school day. So subtly that it was barely noticeable to the untrained eye, each plink of a text or email caused the resident golden girl to flinch as if a hand was being raised to her. And in a way it was, every single notification targeted towards her like a well-placed smack.

Because somebody had taken photographs of Betty Cooper, the floral pattern of her bedspread muted in hues of blue and purple with the early evening light that had flooded in through her window, highlighting the pink and black of her lace bra, the Seduce Scarlet of her lips, and the silken strands of a black wig, as she lay out, scantily clad on top of her mattress.

Someone had taken those photos, kept them, and distributed them throughout the entire student body, highlighting the whole directory and hitting ‘send to all’, and no one knew who. But that didn’t really matter to them. All that piqued their interests at present was how a good girl could be so bad.

“Miss Burble, may I have a word?” Principal Weatherbee’s low voice pulled the young teacher from her reverie, warm eyes following the girl’s mechanical movements down the hallway. She’d seen, everyone (even the teachers) had seen by now, and understood the circumstances of the top piece of gossip within school walls right now. She nodded quickly, following the greying man into his office.

“What can I help you with?” she asked, already having an inkling as to his request. As the school’s guidance counsellor, it was expected that something like this should fall into her lap to be dealt with.

“I assume you’ve seen the images of Miss Cooper that are making the rounds?” he asked, removing his spectacles to pinch the bridge of his nose. She pressed her lips together tightly and nodded. He replaced his glasses and shook his head dejectedly. “The way they treat each other these days…” he sighed.

“I think things like this always happen in high schools, in all ages. If it weren’t for the rise of the smartphone the pictures would just be printed out and stuck on lockers,” Miss Burble said with a sad shrug of her shoulders. Principle Weatherbee’s eyes narrowed.

“Regardless,” he retorted, somewhat sharply, “I’d like to keep this incident contained to Riverdale High before it gets any worse. As counsellor I’m tasking you with finding out who did this so the right course of action can be carried out. And talk to Miss Cooper. We have to make sure that she remains… stable in light of such events,” he added cautiously, as if the litany of pamphlet reading he’d been forced to do about ‘at risk�� students was suddenly running before his eyes like a news reel. Miss Burble shuddered imperceptibly, her own experiences of reading about such cases dragging their way to the forefront of her mind.

“How do you suggest I find out who did it?” she asked apprehensively, wringing her hands in front of her. Riverdale High had been a relatively quiet and uncomplicated first job, making her foray into the working world as a young teacher all the more smooth. But this had just landed at her feet like a ticking time bomb, and from the look in his face Weatherbee was placing her on a strict schedule to get this wrapped up.

“That is your job to figure out, Miss Burble, and I expect a speedy delivery,” he replied with unmistakable sternness, his tone implying her dismissal. She nodded once more and let herself out of the office, back into the throngs of students still buzzing about their latest target.

The sea of students merged into a technicolour blur as they washed through the hallways. Miss Burble pushed her thick curls back with a sharp exhale, taking in the masses as they moved in waves. It was not going to be easy to find the culprit.

***

Betty didn’t bother to glance up as a knock interrupted Miss Grundy’s cover lecture about the end of the civil war at the front of the classroom. In fact, the back of her neck was beginning to ache with the strain of having kept her eyes firmly down for the entirety of her morning classes.

She still wondered why she was even here at all. She’d known she shouldn’t have come as soon as Kevin had called her at a quarter to seven that morning and told her, in a ghastly tone, about the pictures he’d been sent. That everyone had been sent. But she refused to be defeated, even as her phone signalled a new email and her lungs tightened until they were devoid of air while the image loaded on her screen. She refused to let them win, even though she’d had to turn her bedspread over so her mother didn’t notice the dark red smears on the fabric amongst the floral design from where she had wiped her palms.

Right now she wished she’d gone with her instinct to leave her house and run until she’d reached the town’s border, and then some.

“Betty Cooper?” She dragged her tired eyes away from the groove she was carving with her nail in the table top. Miss Grundy was looking at her with her usual meek apprehension, holding a pink slip of paper between her fingers. “You’ve been requested to go to the guidance counsellor’s office.”

Instantly an eruption of whispers flooded the room, but Betty did not stay to hear them. Her head had been plagued with them from the instant she’d stepped foot through the double doors and they’d began to itch, behind her eyes, beneath her skin, like she was covered in invisible insects that refused to be brushed away. She flew from her desk, grateful for the escape route, even if it was to the office. She briefly considered ignoring the summons, but there was a part of her that knew she’d always have trouble denying authority.

She knocked on the half open door, causing the dark-skinned woman at the desk to look up, addressing her with a kind smile.

“Elizabeth Cooper?” she prompted, gesturing towards the chair in from of her desk before she’d even gotten her confirmation. It was because she already knew who she was, Betty realised belatedly, sinking into the worn plastic seat, even the teachers knew.

“It’s Betty,” she mumbled in return, once again averting her gaze from the woman’s unnervingly deep eyes. Was it? she wondered idly as she waited for the woman – Miss Burble, the plaque in front of her said – to speak again. Was she even ‘Betty’ anymore?

“Betty,” Miss Burble began, once again offering that overly bright, placating smile. “I think you know why I called you in here,” she said with just enough pity to spark the uncomfortable itch under Betty’s skin once more, stirring the bugs from their sleep.

“I don’t really want to talk about it,” she muttered, cutting in. “I understand that you probably have to follow some kind of protocol, but really, I’m fine,” she said, willing herself to look up at Miss Burble and plaster a trademark Cooper grin on her face. Her mother would be so proud.

“It’s okay to be upset about this, Betty. Someone has invaded your privacy in the worst way–” Miss Burble began her textbook spiel and Betty had heard enough.

“Look, Miss Burble…” she interrupted.

“Bella,” the woman offered instead, and Betty knew this was some tactic she’d been told to implement to make her feel more approachable to the students she was guiding.

“Bella,” Betty repeated with her sweetest smile, pleased to see that she looked somewhat taken aback by the sudden shift in attitude. “I’m grateful for your concern, but there really is nothing to worry about here. Things happen. By next week no one will even remember the… images,” she said stiffly, her sunny façade faltering slightly as pictures of her body, barely feeling like her own, flashed before her vision. She made to stand, but Bella’s arm shot out to stop her.

“Betty, I’m afraid that’s not all. Given the seriousness of this incident it is my duty to find out who did this so they can be properly reprimanded,” she confessed, having the decency to look somewhat apologetic for dragging this out.

“I don’t care about punishment,” Betty huffed in frustration, fighting the urge to curl her fingers inwards, at least until she was out of sight of the particularly shrewd gaze of the counsellor. “I just want to forget about it,” she pleaded, feeling herself slipping, corners of her eyes pricking with hot tears.

“I’m sorry, but this kind of thing is not treated lightly,” Bella told her firmly, rooting her to the spot. “We have to find the perpetrator so that they can be dealt with to avoid further incidents.” It was all so official that Betty found herself folding her body back into the padded chair, placing her hands deliberately on her knees.

“Now, Betty, I need you to know that this is a safe space, and that anything you say to me here will be kept in confidence,” she assured, ducking her head to try and get the downtrodden girl to look up at her. “Do you know who sent out those photos?”

Betty picked at a loose thread on the sleeve of her sweater. She’d have to weave that back in later or the whole cuff would start to come undone. “I don’t,” she replied shortly, truthfully.

“Not even an idea?” the young teacher pressed, eyes narrowing minutely.

Betty sighed, lifting her head with some reluctance and shrugging her shoulders even though they felt like they were carrying a deadweight. “I know you must not have been here long if you don’t know how many people have it out for me,” she said wryly, tucking one ankle behind the other to replicate the demure stance her mother had drilled into her from a young age.

“Have it out for you?” Miss Burble repeated, clearly intrigued.

Betty nodded. “Yep. My parents run the Riverdale Register, it’s the town newspaper. There are a lot of rich people in this town who don’t like not having a say in when, where, and how much of their dirty laundry is printed out in black and white for the whole town to read out. So, by extension, I’ve ended up being on the receiving end of a few grudges. That and my sister was recently admitted to a facility for ‘troubled youths’,” she said, the quote marks evident in her tone. “Crazy apparently runs in the family, according to most people,” she muttered, refusing to break eye contact as she caught Miss Burble up on her not-quite-tragic backstory.

“I see,” Miss Burble said slowly, and Betty could tell that this woman had not had to deal with the pettiness of small town politics before. She got it, it was insane. But the truth of the matter was that it existed and it wasn’t going anywhere anytime soon. “And there isn’t any way you can narrow down that list?” she inquired hopefully.

There was every way, Betty thought, keeping her expression steadily blank. There was already a name or two flashing in bright neon in her mind’s eye. She blinked slowly, hoping to dim its brightness before it exposed itself to the outside world. “No, I don’t think so,” is what she said instead, shrugging lightly.

Betty was skilled in pretending everything was fine when it wasn’t, it was practically a requirement for being allowed to live under her mother’s roof. As if to snap herself back into her usual self she reached up, scooping her hair into a high ponytail, and secured it with the elastic waiting on her wrist. She pulled it tight, hiding her wince with a blink as she felt some of the strands break away from her scalp. That was it, that was normality.

“If you’re sure,” Miss Burble replied lowly, clearly not sure whether she should be convinced by Betty’s display or not. If she was conflicted then Betty felt at ease, knowing she was doing a good enough job.

“I am,” Betty said firmly, rising from her seat once more. “I’ll be sure to let you know if I need anything, Miss Burble,” she added as she retreated towards the door, plying the woman with one last parting statement that made her feel as if she had done enough to gain Betty’s trust. “I should get back to class.”

Betty backed out of the office, turning sharply and colliding with something soft. “Oh, I’m sorry, Ethel! I wasn’t looking where I was going,” she apologised, reaching out to steady the girl. Ethel offered her a smile that was just a little too close to pitying for Betty to feel at ease.

“That’s okay, Betty. I know you’ve had a difficult day, of course you’d be a little distracted,” Ethel said gently.

Betty took a step away from her embrace, not wanting the tender look Ethel was giving her, clearly thinking about the images she’d seen in contrast with the peaches and cream version of Betty in front of her. She wanted to be angry, and not with whoever sent out the pictures but with the way they were received. They were just pictures, and it wasn’t like she was completely naked in them. She was more than sure that half the student body had taken some just like it in their lives already, sending them out to their intended recipients without a second thought. Just because hers had reached everyone didn’t give them the right to judge her so harshly.

But it wasn’t just the nature of the pictures, and Betty knew that, no matter how hard she tried to deny them. Their content, the girl staring back into the lens from beneath thick, dark lashes had her face but she wasn’t Betty Cooper.

“I’m fine,” she bit out a little too harshly, feeling instant regret when shock painted Ethel’s face. Betty sighed. “I’m sorry,” she said again, feeling like a stuck record. She certainly was apologising a lot for someone who had just had something so private sent on blast around the whole school. Ethel’s wide eyes relaxed again as she tentatively laid a comforting hand on Betty’s upper arm.

“If there is anything I can do for you, Betty, literally anything, please let me know,” she insisted, voice laden with so much sincerity that it plucked at her tear ducts. She blinked rapidly to avoid making her eyes any more red-rimmed than she was sure they currently were and plastered one last fake smile across her features.

“Thank you, Ethel. You’re a true friend,” she whispered before turning and heading down the hall.

***

“Ethel, is it?” The voice made the girl jump as she watched after Betty. She ducked her head into the office, expression wary.

“Yes?”

“I’m Isabella Burble, the new guidance counsellor. I was hoping you had a minute to chat?” she asked breezily, gesturing to Betty’s vacated seat. Ethel glanced down the hall one last time, feet shuffling nervously before she assented, giving a brief nod before settling herself in the chair.

“So, you know Betty?” Bella started out casually, steepling her fingers before resting them on top of her desk. Ethel looked down at her own hands where they lay in her lap, twisting and untwisting her fingers.

“Yes, I mean, we’re kind of friends. Betty’s nice to everyone, even when they’re not nice back,” she replied wryly, lips quirking into some semblance of a grimace. Bella gave a sad smile; it was always worse when bad things happened to good people.

“And you’ve seen the photographs I presume?”

Ethel nodded. “I don’t think there’s anyone at school who hasn’t by now,” she replied.

“Do you know if this has gone further than Riverdale High?” With the rate that the images were spreading here, it was likely that her attempts to contain them before they went further were already in vain.

“I wouldn’t know,” Ethel shrugged apologetically. “I don’t really know anyone outside of school.”

Miss Burble hummed lightly, pausing to gather her thoughts. “Do you have any idea at all as to who could have done this?” she tried, not sure how much hope she should have in the girl’s response.

“Well…” Ethel began hesitantly, eyes flicking briefly towards the open door. The hallways were empty still. Bella didn’t want to hurry her but there was a hopeful anticipation building in her chest. “There’s Cheryl Blossom. She’s head cheerleader and resident mean girl. She’s had it out for Betty ever since Betty accused her twin brother of being the reason her sister got sent away to that facility. And then Betty’s parents wrote an article about the Blossom’s maple syrup business being a front for drug trafficking, and you can imagine how well that went down,” Ethel babbled, leaning in closer as she confessed the sins of the town.

“Okay–” Miss Burble began, but she was quickly cut off.

“And then there’s Veronica Lodge. She claims to be Betty’s best friend but the Coopers have written their fair share of scathing articles about Veronica’s dad and how he’s operating his business from behind bars right now. And everyone knew that Betty had a crush on Veronica’s boyfriend, Archie Andrews, ever since they were kids until they started dating.” Miss Burble rushed to scribble all the names down on a scrap of paper on her desk. “Some people think that even though he’s got a girlfriend Archie might finally be reciprocating Betty’s feelings and that he’s planning to cheat on Veronica with her!”

“And could he be the boy Betty had planned for the photographs to go to, this Archie Andrews?” Bella cut in hastily, pen poised above the paper.

Ethel shrugged. “I don’t know, maybe. He’s changed since he made football captain and I wouldn’t put it past some of the team convincing him to do something like this to poor Betty.” She paused. “While I believe that Veronica would do something like this to Betty I can’t believe Betty would hurt Veronica like that. But then…” she trailed off. But then she’d seen the pictures and the Betty in them was unrecognisable.

“Is there anyone else, Ethel?” Miss Burble asked quietly, taking in the way her brow knit and the corners of her lips pulled down.

“Um, I don’t think so. Oh, maybe Chuck Clayton. Betty and Veronica did something to get him suspended from the football team earlier in the year and, as you can imagine, he’s not too happy about it,” she said knowingly.

“Thank you, Ethel. This has been really… enlightening,” Miss Burble sighed, leaning back in her desk chair. “You can go back to class now,” she smiled. Ethel gathered up her belongings and walked slowly to the door, one hand on the frame.

“I hope you find out who did this to Betty. There are a lot of people who deserve what’s coming to them around here. I’m glad I could help.” With one last saddened smile she was gone.

#bughead #bughead fanfiction #bughead au #betty cooper #jughead jones #betty x jughead #riverdale #riverdale fanfiction #bughead fan fiction #jetty #writing

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emilyyhill · 5 years

Text

The therapy generation: and proud of it

Me: “So my therapist said I should start doing _____ to help me process ______. It sounds scary.”

Family: “Here’s the solution. Don’t go to therapy!”

Me: “Yeah but I can’t just ignore my problems.”

Family: “We do, and we’re fine!”

The narrator: “They were not fine.”

This is no joke, a CLASSIC conversation in the Hill household. Except I did try ignoring my deep emotional issues for years and well – let’s just say I have a “same time next week?” relationship with my therapist now.

For generations previous, seeking psychological or emotional therapy was very taboo. Marriage counselling was for the last step before a divorce, seeing a psychologist reserved for those about to have a major breakdown. People would rather be seen dead than at a support group or Alcoholics Anonymous, and only monks (or serious hippies) meditated.

But popular culture has termed millennials (and the next generation after us) the therapy generation. And we are absolutely adopting the title, loud and proud.

You know something is legit when there is a whole category of memes about it, and they are RELATABLE. (If you also find the phenomena between millennials, memes and mental health super interesting, check out this fabulous article I found).

There are a whole variety of reasons as to why we may be experiencing mental health conditions at a higher rate than our ancestors. This subreddit has a great intellectual discussion if you’re keen to read some ideas.

However, I tend to be of the opinion that we are simply the first generation to benefit from improved education, social acceptance and facilitation of help seeking and self care.

Gradually, people are becoming okay with speaking our experiences. We know that what we see in people’s lives is not the whole story, and because of that, we are gradually becoming more accepting of our own “behind the scenes” moments.

You know, the ones when you have a big cry moment in the grocery store because you can’t find the pasta you want? When you really struggled to get out bed every day for month? What about when you had a minor conflict with a colleague and turned into hyperventilating in the bathroom (or carpark?). It’s not about the pasta, you weren’t just tired, and your colleague probably isn’t the problem. These days, we are much more willing to say “Hey, maybe I should talk to someone about this?”

We (as a generation) have also been told that happiness is the goal. Everything is meant to be pleasurable and serve us. If it’s not, then something must be wrong - it’s not worth it. In some cases, this has lead to lack of commitment in relationships, jobs or degrees. In other cases, it can lead people to seek change in their emotional lives, landing them in a therapist office in a pursuit of happiness.

The commentary could go on and on. Personally, I am a huge advocate for therapy. I think everyone could (and should!) benefit from seeing a counsellor, psychologist, or life coach at least once every six months. For me though, it’s weekly.

Here are five things I have gained from seeing a qualified therapist on a regular basis.

1. A safe space to simply receive me-focused, undivided attention.

The current generation CRAVE attention. I would suspect that 80% of content we post on social media is to seek attention. Again, there is a whole category of memes dedicated to wanting attention (see below).

But when I am in therapy, it’s all about me. I can talk about the issues I want to talk about, I have space to give my perspective of my experiences without anyone interrupting me or shutting me down or telling me I’m crazy.

A good therapist will definitely challenge you and ask you think about other people and perspectives, but the point is: you are in control and you are not there to help your therapist. You are paying them to help you. You can literally not ask them anything about them and that’s okay. In fact, probably preferred.

As a side note - I think my therapist recently got engaged but I don’t know because a. I don’t know if she even has a partner and b. I can’t figure out what hand her new ring is on? It never feels like an appropriate time to ask and now it’s been too long and so... I guess I’ll just never know.

Also - don’t judge me for not knowing which hand an engagement ring goes on AND for not knowing my left and rights...

2. Self insight and understanding

I am really not trying to toot my own horn here, but I think I have always had a strong ability to self-reflect. Therapy has taken this to a new level.

Talking through things with a qualified professional has helped me understand so much more about the way I think, feel and behave.

After a little while, you learn the frameworks and strategies used to analyse situations clearer, and this self-insight and understanding becomes your new normal. Yay for self-improvement.

3. Greater compassion and empathy for those around me

Once you realise that you are often reacting to not only the situation in front of you but the layers of responses you have accumulated over the years, you will be so much more gentle with yourself and others.

Therapy has taught me that nothing is ever as it seems, so go easy. You don’t know what’s going on for someone else and just how much might be contributing to the way they feel, think and behave.

4. Emotional growth, forgiveness and self-improvement.

We all want to be better people. We all want to move on from the patterns we feel stuck in. A therapist can help you untangle and identify what these patterns are, and the best way to move forward in a healthier, more beneficial way.

Note: these things are h a r d. Making changes is hard. Making these changes with the support and guidance of a therapist can help ease some of the load, confusion, and pain associated with growth.

5. You can claim it on tax.

I don’t actually know if this is true. I am just struggling to articulate a fifth reason and people generally seem to like things that you can claim on tax. So I went with it. Sorry about that. Ask your accountant.

I hope this helps! There are plenty of great psychologists and counsellors out there, and if you get a mental health plan from your GP, it’s likely that you can access 10 (TEN) sessions for freeeeeee! That’s something everyone definitely likes more than tax deductible therapy - free therapy!

As always, I’m around if you have any questions or just need someone to talk to. I’m 84% sure I’ve been in your shoes (or some kind of similoar) at some point. Figuratively of course.

All my love,

Em x

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sanguinesprout · 7 years

Text

Therapy/Counselling Diary #6 (more frustrations, tribulations and a tiny speck of sunshine)

I don’t know how I’m feeling rn, I just wanna climb into bed and stay there forever. I feel kind of conflicted and overwhelmed, hopeless but a smidgen hopeful at the same time but as always everything is overpowered by doubtfulness and hesitance and fear. I’m spiralling quite a lot, I want to calm down and figure things out rationally but my mind is racing ahead with frustration and the irrational.

Yesterday’s counselling appointment felt quite different to the others, it was more blunt, filled with harsh truths and realities, eye opening but upsetting. To put it simply, it was a tough lesson and the words hurt and I cried. I don’t mean there was no encouragement or empathy present, it just felt like there was much less of it this time. The counsellor was probably getting impatient because I’m not trying hard enough, needed to light a fire under my ass kind of feeling.

Well, I’m past halfway in the number of sessions I’m allowed, I haven’t been able to move forward as much as she wanted and planned which is probably where the sort of urgency to do things is kicking in. There’s a lot more waiting on trying to get financial help than both of us expected. I mean I did apply for it and I enquired about it, I didn’t just ignore it, so it’s better than the latter right?

I keep wondering if counselling was the right choice for me, like the right kind of guidance because I feel like a lot of my deeper problems are not being considered into why I am struggling or that there’s not anything to help alleviate them. I’m not sure what I’m trying to say, or am I..? It’s not the exact thing I wanted, it fills only a small piece of a big complex puzzle, but beggars can’t be choosers :c I know the focus has to be narrowed down, everything is brief because time is short. I don’t want to have bad feelings about it, I don’t want to be ungrateful or butthurt either, it just feels like it’s not enough or it’s missing a step, but I also know that outside help can only do so much, everything is on me to change and improve from the inside. I feel so conflicted.

I know I need to stop moping, stop feeling sorry for myself, stop trying to make excuses and pin blame on things and people around me for my shortcomings and lack of action. It’s just when you spent such a long part of your life having these feelings and being a certain way, it’s hard to just up and go, hard to break the cycle and move on. To try and bring back control into your life when you felt you’ve never had it or lost it so long ago, it feels like you’re a newborn deer with starry eyes stumbling around on unsteady legs trying to get uphill, with the hill being a learning curve that’s actually a tall and seemingly impassible vertical wall.

I keep thinking of all these ‘I’m’ phrases. ‘I’m worthless, I’m useless, I’m ungrateful, I’m such a waste of space’ as afterthoughts to my moments of successful avoidance and it’s throwing me into such a hopeless mood where only grey clouds hang and no light can filter through. If my thoughts were like a message board, all the comments would be insults like these and unhelpful pro life hack troll comments plus the typical kys x 1000 .__.

C’mon me, don’t be so hard on yourself, it isn’t helping, there is hope... or is there..? Yes, there is but it’s just hard to see clearly right now. I’m feeling quite lost again, I need to try and find my way through the fog, I can do it, c’mon, don’t worry so much, you can do it!

I think I’m feeling a little better after getting a little of my frustration out, I’ll try and recall how yesterday went from beginning to end in simple form, I especially wanted to get things down as soon as possible so I don’t keep having to think back so hard and end up muddling stuff up. My memories are already a blur though and I feel like I've already begun to try repress a lot of it, but some good things were also said and some kind of nice things happened after so I’ve got to get to those too. You know, bring back some sun into this grey rainy spell, maybe even make a rainbow somehow :>

Okay, I got to the appointment just on time and sat for maybe 2 mins max, she came and collected me and I went for a quick bathroom trip because the weather that day was bad and I felt a mess. She asked for my weekly depression/anxiety self assessment sheet and I gave it to her and she looked over at it briefly. I think there might have been something small before this but I forgot, but w/e lol.

She asked (rhetorically?) if there was any improvement in the sheets/scores and pointed at one of the scores and asked me ‘what’s this?’. She was pointing to my score of 1 (some of the days) for the statement ‘Thinking you'd be better off dead or hurting yourself in some way?’. She’s never asked me about any of my scores on the previous ones, I feel like maybe she was offended some how that I hadn’t improved under her guidance or that maybe my scores were particularly bad that week idk I shouldn’t assume but she seemed the tiniest bit aghast anyways.

The thing is though, the scoring sheet is intended for every two weeks but I’ve been doing them for every one week so they probably come across as a stronger representation idk? I’m sure I scored 1 for most other times on that same statement too (or did the lowest 0 score but only because I was trying to seem hopeful and not idk shock-worthy? Bad and inaccurate I know). Well let me just say it was hella awk and that was even after I got in a taxi ride with a driver that didn’t speak english and struggled through that the same morning, the awkward feels just keep rising.

Anyways, back to what I was saying, or well, not saying. She asked me what that score was, and that gave me this vibe that she was idk disgusted or like I said offended... I mean I think she asked why I put that after too but I couldn’t find the words to answer. It’s kind of sensitive topic (especially for me who usually withholds and can’t express feelings that well) and somehow I thought it would be kind of obvious thing, like something that didn’t need to be questioned... .__.

I mentioned I had depression on the first session, she knows I’m struggling in general and last week was particularly stressful for me with the pressure to do stuff and I didn’t want to bring it up as the reason at the time. Maybe she forgot or got me mixed up with someone else, she probably sees so many people a week and stuff.

It just felt weird and I was kind of confused, I was searching my mind for an appropriate answer but was still just so taken aback that I just blanked. I ended up saying something like ‘you know, when you feel kind of hopeless...’ and kind of cringed inwardly. But then I think she went into a sort of a reassuring and positive sort of pep talk, telling me that I was doing good and all that stuff, it made me feel better for that moment, though I still feel a bit idk traumatised lol... ;; Because I always worry about doing things right, being seen as weird, having that being in school and getting reprimanded feeling it just freaked me out.

Oh... oh my god, that just reminded me of something... A lot of past experiences influence our current feelings and beliefs right? I noticed I keep mentioning about being told off and I keep wondering why it affects me so much, makes me afraid even now and I remembered in school when I was very young there were times I was told off and felt wronged and it hurt, I was a good kid and I always tried my best but I guess it wasn’t enough sometimes. Those things I was scolded for seemed irrational and unfair and I’ll bet a lot of them actually were, but I was just a kid, I just take it and believe that I deserved it, but maybe it was just me, taking things to heart a little too much too.

I’m so scared of being told off by my parents, by anyone really, just the prospect of it happening alone is enough to make me shrink away into the floor. Remembering the faces and tones of voices of those particular teachers, it scares me and makes me feel so upset, they were mean and strict and I feel there was a hint of some discrimination somewhere but no one is obligated to be nice to me anyways I guess... Idk I’m side tracking again, being over dramatic maybe but those snippets of memories that just came up from their hiding place right in the depths of my mind, to stay with me that long, it’s painful recalling them again. The beliefs I hold from then, they are one and the same as the ones still latched on to me today, probably in an evolved form and weighing me down even more.

Something that’s been bothering me, am I always playing the victim? Am I actually always in the wrong? Do I really blame others that much? Is there actually no reason to feel any of the things I do? Is everything actually my own fault? These just go on to repeat that cycle of worthlessness and confusion. I don’t even know, the more I think about things, the greater the self-loathing becomes. It’s not healthy, I need to stop it. Wow idek what I just wrote in the past few paragraphs @^@”

Um so, my memory is kinda crappy after the bit about the paper. I remember I had some homework from last time which I struggled really badly with even though it probably wasn’t something hard, but idk I just have a hard time doing any type of task cause I get that foggy head pain and can’t concentrate or retain information and ugh why can’t I function like normal..?? ;^; I quickly scrawled down the stuff the morning of the app but well... I waited for her to ask for it but she never did, I was thinking, I should take it out and give it to her. But I avoided doing so... and later I thought again I should give it, but I didn’t, or well I was too preoccupied with what was going down then. I’ll make sure to mention and give it in next time... I’m scared she’ll be annoyed, or disappointed, tell me off etc etc. but better late than never I guess. Maybe the session would have went differently if I did, maybe we could have focused on that instead, ack it’s my own fault >^<

We talked about what I did last week in terms of going out, communicating and practicing phone orders. Welp, I don’t think I went anywhere other than shopping the same day of the last appointment so there was nothing to discuss there. As for the phone order thing... I managed to do it... but only once. I panicked and stumbled over my words and it deterred me from trying again just like I thought it would. But my mum and sis gave me some helpful tips which I can use next time if I can pluck up the courage to.

I actually did it, even it was only once, which was something. But I did it more because I didn’t want to disappoint the counsellor, because she already wanted me to do it the prior week and I didn’t, so it was done out of a greater fear so to say... I mean, I did do it a little for myself too and for my parents, who were kind of impressed I tried at least. I thought maybe at least me trying, even if only once would be something but she said that really she would have expected me to do much more, once wasn’t enough, but at least I did it. I felt real bad, I’m so cowardly and she is expecting me to have tried doing it everyday lots of times by next week but I’ve already avoided trying for almost two days already :<

I also made it sound like I was making a bunch of excuses as to why I don’t go out that much, I said some inaccurate things and I feel bad about it. She said I should go out more, follow where my sis and parents go and try to immerse myself properly in what I’m doing, as I mentioned being around others makes me anxious and I will often leave what I’m doing without properly looking or buying what I wanted. Eg. if I’m looking at clothes and someone stands next to me looking, I’ll move so they can look or hurry up or cut short my own perusing then move. She said to not mind them, that I was there first and should take my time. I move out of politeness and because often when I want to look at stuff and someone else is there for a long long time or is just blocking the way it kind of irks me (and when I look at things I am really slow I guess), so I wouldn’t want other people to feel that way idk I suck I know. I’ll try follow my parents this weekend or go somewhere with my sis or something.

She also went over my sort of plan to get a job and was telling me to work under my parents and gain experience from home (work is at home) so I can write it on my CV. I already knew of this but I keep thinking my parents are so set on doing things themselves and their way, that I’ll be in the way, do things wrong, get told off etc. Maybe it’s irrational to think this, no, it certainly is, but I can’t help thinking this way. I told her that I’ve tried asking them to teach me suff before but they were unwilling and she told me not to pin the blame on them. She said I needed to push to do things and asked me ‘what do new workers(of any profession in general) usually do?’ and I answered something like ‘watch’, watching and learning, shadowing. She’s right, I should do that, it’s just my aforementioned fears especially the getting in the way part that’s getting in the way.

Wait, I lie, there’s much more than that. There’s my extreme self-consciousness which makes it difficult for me to be anyone’s view let alone customers (especially the regulars that sometimes ask how mum’s daughters are doing, to which she mostly talks about my sis because well, I got nothing). I didn’t say this to her though... Also my fear of someone I know coming and seeing me, asking how I’ve been, what I’m doing etc... Seriously if I didn’t have such an ugly mug etc. I would be doing much better or maybe I wouldn’t be this way at all... :c

So uh, I have to do some of that experience gathering and skill learning, yeah it’s necessary, it’s a good opportunity and it’s beneficial. The pressure to do things so quickly and so much at a time (for me) is just so overwhelming.

Stuff got kinda not so great from here...or maybe I got the order of things mixed up but oh well....She said she felt frustrated for me so she couldn’t imagine what it must be like for me. She said that I have to try and do much more, that it’s for me and my life and it won’t affect her at all whether I do things or not and that she has many other people that she needs to see and that’s her job, if I don’t do things then there’s no point of me coming to sessions and stuff like that. She said something vaguely like ‘you’re [age] years old, you should be able to/can do all these things ...[something something] it’s almost like you’re a baby’ this isn’t actually what she said but I remember her saying my age and the word baby because these are things I think about all the time about myself.

There was some other sort of raw truth telling and I can’t remember all of it but it just really got to me and the tone and the words kind of cut me deep and I started crying or well my eyes started leaking and I really really didn’t want them to... ;^; As I expected she is unfazed by it, probably has seen it a million times from others, and I was trying really hard to ignore the water in my eyes too and continue listening to her, but in the back of my mind I was wishing I could just have a moment, maybe even a tiny bit of reassurance or sympathy. I don’t mean to make her sound like a heartless robot and she probably did say some reassuring things I don’t remember properly, but at that time it just felt so bad like... like you know all the stress from the past weeks and just my whole life busted out and I felt like I didn’t matter or something like that.

Oh, I remember one of the things she also talked about/asked was what would I do (in terms of living and looking after myself) if my parents died. She asked or talked about this in one of the earlier sessions but that was if they died like right now, and this time I think she was saying about you know, like people only live so long kind of thing... like the thing about the depression bit earlier, this is a topic I really don’t like, the way it comes out is so blunt and just throws me off so much. I contemplated what to say in return and was really tempted to say ‘die’ but I know that would not be a good idea but I couldn’t think of much else, I said ‘nothing’ instead and she was I guess taken aback (in a bad way, like ‘what do you mean nothing? You can’t just do nothing’).

I blanked so hard to find the answer because the truth is I don’t know what I’d do. She said I couldn’t rely on my sis to look after me forever and that’s true and I already know it. I guess this is just a way to help me put my future in perspective maybe, to get me to take more action now so I would be more prepared to take care of myself then and in general. It still stung a lot though.

Also there was some talk of what my plans are to get to what I want to do and I can’t remember exactly what sparked the next small bit of conversation, but I was talking about how I have some illness that prevents me from wanting to go out/work because I get sick easily in those environments and she told me how she has a friend that has similar stuff and she doesn’t let this get in the way of her doing stuff, that she still goes out and works and lives and while that’s true and very useful to know it kind of felt idk... I didn’t want to sound like I was bringing up excuses, I just wanted to let her know I have other troubles I needed sorting in addition to the ones she knows.

Then I can’t remember how but it lead to me talking about maybe going to the doctor for medication to help with ADD/Depression/anxiety (which I had been avoiding) so that I’d be able to think clearer and do things more quickly in addition to her help but she just said that was something pointless in a way, that medication isn’t a miracle cure to my problems and kept emphasising ‘this is CBT, it’s all about behaviour’ ?^? But the thing is, I wasn’t saying that it was a miracle cure and her disregard for the fact that it could maybe help, it kind of idk... it made me feel frustrated and maybe some time around here is when I cried or maybe I was already crying idk but my voice was weak and I didn’t want to debate it anymore.

The thing is though, behavioural stuff is her specialism and not medicine and I understand that but why so adamant or against it? @^@ It kind of feels like when I asked her about whether a diagnosis would be helpful that other time and the answer was pretty much nope. I know medication isn’t healthy and isn’t ideal, and I know it can be unhelpful in terms of side effects, but I was referring more to ADD medication which I read positive things about (but I guess I need to research more). If I could fix things without medication, that’s the obvious choice anyone would choose, but some things are proven to be chemically related and idk why I’m continuing to talk about it... tbh I already take medication every day for my other physical blah but even I feel iffy about taking it for mental related things.

I just felt kind of miffed and upset and actually kind of hopeless by the end of the session and idk it didn’t end with me feeling super motivated like the last few. Tbh on a lot of the other sessions, I just kept thinking I want to go home, but none as much as this one. I kind of almost wanted to just up an cancel the rest of the sessions, but I think I can stick through it, there’s only 4 more, who knows what could happen, what I could maybe achieve and leave with. Or even if there is nothing much, at least I tried, I can learn to be stronger from this experience alone. I have been mulling over a lot of things and yes, there was some useful things and I do see where she is coming from on a lot of things too, it’s just the pressure to do stuff is killing me because my fears are still there and grow even stronger when I’m at home. To put myself in her perspective though, it must be like flogging a dead horse a lot of the time, I feel bad she has to deal with me.

Anyways, after the session I went to the toilet again and tried to put come cold water soaked tissue on my face and eyes to make it less red and calm down. Then after my sis was supposed to come and go run some errands and shop with me like usual but she was running a bit late so she told me to browse around. I was feeling a little scared, but I remembered I used to be okay doing this and agreed to do so. I went to a stationery store and browsed it at my leisure, was a little anxious and had to wait at the till for ages for someone to get there but it was kind of nice, I felt a little proud of myself for going and I did buy some pens I wanted.

After that I just wandered around outside while waiting for my sis to come over and used the opportunity to take some photos of the things in the area, the weather wasn’t great but it gave me a reason to pull up my hood and have the courage to go around. I wish I could be brave enough to do this without having to feel like I need anonymity and to actually do it properly without rushing and thinking people might be looking and judging, but anyways it was something I wanted to do for a long time and I did it a little bit! I hope I can use this as motivation to go out more and improve my skills ^^

I also went to some other shops, then the supermarket and I asked the store worker about the stock of an item so that’s something! The rest of the day I just kind of sat around thinking about things again. I wanted to go back and do something nice like the posting art stuff but I’m still hesitating and also now I keep thinking that those sorts of things are not important and that I should be focusing on the more serious stuff like the job thing. Other people have jobs and they can afford to do nice things on the side because they have the important things sorted out and prioritised well, I don’t have a job so I shouldn’t be doing nice or meaningless things, I need to be serious... is the kind of thought train I have. It’s true, but I... I don’t know...

Anyways, I used up a whole day to write this post pretty much. It was really difficult and much much weirder but it was useful to get the thoughts out and down which is good. I feel I always keep trying to soften and justify things I say still, I still fear being recognised and perceived as bad and all that terrible jazz. Maybe I’ll get over it someday.

I want to end the post positively like I always do, but I’m struggling a little on this one. It’s always the overthinking, the irrational and the inaction and I’m getting worried about next week because time flies. What do I need to do to just get over the fears...? T^T I really wish there was some magic cure all medicine.

I guess only thinking the logical or not thinking at all and actually challenging the fears is the only way. Do I think I can do it? I might not be able to completely dispel the thoughts but I think trying a little more shouldn’t hurt too much. I gotta ingrain it into my brain some more, that all that matters is I tried, it doesn’t have to be perfect, it’ll get better and easier with practice, it’ll be okay.

Baby steps and more determination is the way to go. I can do it, I can do it, I can do it! Even if not straight away, I’ll get on track and soon be chugging full speed. Believe in myself, be proud of myself and try my best, I keep forgetting. Take care of myself too.

I actually wrote a list of things I want to do, my dreams or a bucket list as such in my drafts, I want to be able to fulfil them and cross them off with a smile. To accomplish this, I just need to do them. More doing, less moping! It’s my life, I should be able to do all the things I want to do and be the person I want to be.

I gotta try harder, just persevere and do and that’s all there is to it, c’mon I can do this, I can do all these things someday or even today! Don’t let the little bumps on your journey throw you off, don’t let other’s words bring you down, keep fighting, keep going, it’ll be worth it! You can do it!! ^^

I think maybe I’ll go try post something for reals now on my other acc somewhere and then I’ll practice some phone order-y stuff! It won’t be so hard after taking the first few steps silly me, go go! C:

Have a wonderful evening and keep going, you can do it!

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mammawolff · 7 years

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I'm going to apologize now for what might turn into a long post, as I can't remember how to do a read more on mobile. So. It's once again Bell Let's Talk day. Now I realize that maybe, last year I was in a better position mentally, financially, and healthier than I am right now. But, that's the thing about mental illness. It's a daily battle. So. Let's talk. I don't think I've ever actually told anyone my full story. I was diagnosed with clinical depression and anxiety when I was eight. This was a very poor time in my life. I was in the office of my school every day, for one reason or another. Funny thing about schools. They all claim to be against bullying, but they only notice the physical aspect. A rotund child defending herself against verbal attacks? Clearly she's the bully. Unfortunately, I grew accustomed to being anxious around figures of authority because of these childhood encounters. I'd stop trying to defend my actions to these adults who weren't listening, and instead clam up and cry. And clearly, crying means I feel guilty and therefore I'm the attacker. Yeah. My school was pretty fucky. Add onto that it's small town, uni-religious, and fairly cult-ish in their actions. My family, having just moved there with no family established, got the brunt end of a lot of attacks. Weird ass elitism at its finest. Anyways. During this time my home life was pretty shit, too. My parents divorced when I was four, and we moved to this town two days before my fifth birthday. My mum was determined to cut our father out of our lives, so we didn't actually get to see him until I was 6, almost 7. Also pretty fucky. My mum wasn't the greatest mother around. Yes, she put a roof over our heads and fed us, but she was very quick to attack us verbally & physically, and if she thought we were lying about something she'd beat us til we told her what she wanted to hear. So, my dad became somewhat of a god in my eyes. Guardian angel, shelter from the storm, something unattainable for a very long time(to 5, 6, 7 year old me. A year and a half ish is a very long time for a kid). Eventually, he was able to take us every weekend. He bounced from house to house, job to job, but he provided what little child support he could spare and he always made sure to have a house with at least two bedrooms, so we'd always have a place. I tried so often to tell him what the combination of mum & school were doing to my tiny brain and body, but I never had any idea what abuse was, as a definition. I was terrified what mum might do if she found out I tattled. She'd already kept us all away from dad for so long, how long could she do that again? So I stayed silent. When I was 8, I met with my school's guidance counsellor. I had only a handful of friends who weren't terrified of me(I grew tall and wide pretty fast), my grades were shit(even for elementary school), and I was always late. Not to mention those daily visits to the principal's office. He's the one who prompted mum to take me in, see if all this stress had caused something to fuck up in my brain. Spoiler alert; it did. So, I was put on Anti-D medication. Anti-A's didn't come into play until later. Unfortunately, my body apparently absorbed and adjusts to new medication very, very quickly. By the time I was 10 I was taking handfuls of pills morning, noon, and night, just to maintain this facade of normalcy. Unfortunately, the bullying and abuse was continuing. My grades didn't superbly improve, my school behaviour issues barely subsided. But, the pills continued. I couldn't even tell you what they were or what they did. Mum took care of all that. But, I can tell you one thing, my short term memory problems started when the drugs did. I know it's too late for me now, but man I'm still kinda pissed at past me for not speaking up. Grade five was a shift for me. Negatively. I had a highly abusive teacher, bullying was at an all-time high and three of my friends deemed me too weird/sketchy/uncool to play with any more. My dad had to move into a townhouse and out of the farmhouses he'd been occupying for years. He had to get rid of the dog(Sonia) who'd been my best friend for well over a year. Soon after, we had to get rid of Queen(cookie), a dog we'd gotten from my friend's dog's second litter. I couldn't go riding any more(we kept my dad's landlord's horses and cows on the property), and I could no longer help on the farm. My weekend salvation was at an end. About the only freedom I had left was if dad took me flying. I made him take me up for hours, some weekends. I remember bawling on my morning walks to school with my friends, because I hated my life so much. My mum made the doctor ease up my prescriptions(a good thing, honestly), but she didn't ease up the abuse. Neither did my teacher, or the bullies, and I no longer had my beloved animals to keep me sane. I mean, we had Taffy, but she was always Brad's dog. One morning there was a speeding car who I knew couldn't see us down the road. I think my friends knew exactly what I was thinking because they stopped and just hugged me until the car passed us. I was 11 and suicidal. To help me transition off the farm, dad bought me riding lessons from a local Parelli instructor. These helped. I finally had some sort of release again, and best of all I could ride throughout the week, not just the weekends. These ended too. My instructor's lease of the land eventually ran out, and an oil company came in and bought the land. I was 13 when this happened. Still being forced to take drugs, and go to a psychiatrist (who broke client confidentiality so I stopped going and mum stopped paying). When I was 12 I found Wicca, and started turning away from the Church I'd been raised and baptised into. By the time I was 15 I'd fully turned away but still went, to appease my dad. Anyways. I started riding with another instructor and when I was 15 suffered a very traumatic fall, that screwed me up mentally, and I couldn't bring myself to get back on a horse until just last year when I was 20. Amazing what happens when your hormone levels mostly balance out eh? I was still kind of suicidal throughout all of this. Nothing that I would act on, but I kept thinking, "if I were to die, it wouldn't be so bad." I moved in with my dad when I was 15. I was sick of mum's bullshit, we fought violently every day. She'd already kicked my favourite brother out of the house, my sister was almost as bad as she was(she's 9 years older than me and to this day acts like I'm still 10 years old. We've never been close). A plethora of reasons. Mostly being, I was tired of her verbal and mental attacks. The physical stuff mostly ended once I hit 5'7". Definitely didn't happen after I was 5'10". I moved in with dad, quit my prescriptions, came out to him as pagan, then promptly fell in line and went back to church(which I'd quit at mum's) in order to protect myself. He would kick me out if I so much as lit a candle. So, I practiced in secret. My gods were(and are) very understanding and very supportive. Dad's God did not want me in His church, but tolerated me. This was pretty dark time. Me moving in with dad dredged up more custody battle bullshit. But, my relationship with my mum started to get better, sort of. I'm 21 now and we're only just on good speaking terms for more than 48 hours at a time. Then I got Angel. She was pretty much perfect as a puppy. House training was kind of difficult, she proved herself a friggen genius with the turkey incident, but she was mine. She knows exactly what I want, how I'm feeling, what I'm going to ask of her. She's perfect. (Cherub's a rotten little shit but she's still just a puppy and I haven't found the right job for her just yet.) Then, four of my newfound friends died. Car accident. I know I've recounted this story many times so I'll spare the details. But this threw me into a massive identity crisis. They didn't know the real me before they died. Danae looked up to me as a role model, and she didn't know I wasn't Mormon. I was pagan. I had to tell everyone. That Christmas (time ish), I came out of the broom closet again. Only this time to everyone. My "Mormon Moms," as I called them, insisted I was still me and they still loved me. The less accepting wanted to ban me from the graveyard. I still get hassled from their families, if they see me going down. But, a certain member of the community stood up for me. I'll be grateful to him forever. My dad was confused and hurt, but so long as I kept going to church he'd let me stay. Mum still insists it's a phase. I started going back to my hometown for school (only ten minutes away), and connected with my friends again. Then my paternal grandpa died. I never got the chance to say goodbye. Not even a funeral. He visited me, and my aunt and my cousin, but that still hit me extra hard, as it wasn't even 10 days after the 1 year anniversary of the accident. I started to slip again, fast. Dad got a job out east and had left me to move the rest of our things into storage, and I moved back in with mum. This is when I discovered I get severe depression when I have to move. Yay. I discovered my car's engine will cut out once I get to 198km. There is a stretch of road between the two towns that is very long, and very straight, with a sudden swerve to the right and a very steep drop in the road into a gulley. I convinced myself if I could get to 200km before that swerve, I would let my car fly off the cliff. I watched the needle drop closer to the speedometer's limit, noting exactly when the engine cut. I tapped the brakes, and got my car under control before the turn. Cursed myself for being a chicken, then for being so stupid. Angel needed me, if no one else. Half-assed suicide attempt no. 2. School sucked, but for some odd reason my childhood bullies apologized to me and tried to make amends. I accepted and we moved on. Mostly. I guess. Throughout all of this my depression was(and has been) a heavy weight on my shoulders. A darkness at the edge of my vision. Pretty much the only thing that truly lifted that lifted that was Anna. Though I had found new friends on the internet through dA and the ridgearound(love you guys), it was never really at bay. She was really, really, REALLY the only thing that brought true sunlight into my life. The day she was born I cried tears of joy, and thought she was the most perfect creature ever. I still do. She is beautiful. Graduation year brought me Anna, a boyfriend who turned out to be creepy and manipulative and abusive, and the start of my cutting addiction. I fucked up a few months ago. Before that it had been years. More fights with mum. Robin Williams passed and I lost hope for a few months. That was not a good time. He was always a role model to me, because even as a kid I knew what battles he was going through. He made me laugh when no one else could. He showed me that even with my shitty brain, I could be successful. I could fight this. Then he killed himself. I finally moved to Ponoka. Pretended to be an adult. Got cherub. Changed jobs. Found(ed) a coven. Lost Dee, and Anna. She's alive, don't worry. But she's no longer in my life. The horses helped so, so much with my depression. I refuse(d) medication because I can manage my condition, usually. Unfortunately that job ended in part because the mental stress had brought on my depression full force, and even my boss noticed I wasn't happy. So I left and started my MT course, where I am now even broker than usual, even more stressed than usual, and even more depressed than usual. This isn't even every aspect of my depression but it's the main points. Throughout this now 11 year journey, my depression and my anxiety have been with me. They've changed and grown and forced me to change and grow as well. I often wonder how different things would have been had I not refused meds so (relatively) early on. Too late now. But, my point is, I'm still here. I'm still fighting. My survival tactics have changed. When I was 11, what stopped me so many times was "tomorrow is another day" and "what will tomorrow bring?" Now, it's just sheer stubbornness. I'm going to finish my MT, I'm going to get out of debt and I'm going to flee into the middle of the prairies with my dogs and my reptiles and get myself a horse and a plane and I will never step foot in a city again. Just watch me. It doesn't get better. That slogan has never rang true with me. It just changes. You change, and your illness changes as well. But I guess, in some ways, it does get easier. You force yourself to see in colour, to take the bad in every situation and go "at least it isn't _____." And every now and again, you look back at your eight year old self and allow her to cry, because sometimes you need to.

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