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hier--soir · 5 months

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take your medicine

pre-outbreak joel miller x f!reader

rating: explicit, 18+ minors dni summary: *tv sales advert voice* so you've been finding it hard to reach orgasm? lucky for you, our best-selling item "hunky boyfriend joel" is on sale at half price. shipping is free, and he is very determined to help you achieve your goals! call the number on your screen to buy now! OR your medication makes it difficult to orgasm so joel (and your vibrator) help make it happen. warnings/tags: set in the early 2000s aka early thirties joel my lover boyyyy, boyfriend joel, depression [nothing dark or sad], anti-depressants, brief discussion of food/eating, cigarette smoking [f], soft!supportive!joel, mentions of masturbation [f], unprotected piv sex, use of a sex toy, ride 'em cowgirl (1939) dir. samuel diege, cream pie, dirty talk, joel talks you through it. word count: 2.9k masterlist a/n: so this one is.... self-indulgent. shout out to all my friends on anti-depressants that are strugglin' to reach orgasm. me too, pals, me too. and there will be no medication shaming on this account, no there will not! so happy sunday, i hope someone else out there enjoys this short little thing with me x follow @hier--soirupdates if you'd like to be notified when i share my writing

Medication is a journey, they say. Every day will be different.

Medication is not the end all be all, they say. We can always try different avenues.

Six months on, now.

Six months since Let’s try the Zoloft for a few months.

Six months since We can reassess in April.

It’s June and summer has settled over Austin with a hot wet vengeance. April came and went with a mutual agreement that you weren’t ready to be weaned off yet. A gentle hand on your forearm and a softly spoken Why don’t we check in again in July?

A low dose. A starter dose. A you shouldn’t experience too many side-effects dose.

And she was right – for the most part. There were no headaches, no nausea, no dizzy spells, no changes in appetite. That shallow, low mood that’d been haunting you for months suddenly began to lift. Begrudging exercise in the afternoons, a three-meals-a-day regiment implemented by your boyfriend, and a happy little pill with every morning coffee.

But fuck – you can count the number of orgasms you’ve had since January on one hand.

Countless nights spent alone in your bed, tangled betwixt sweaty sheets, fingers and forearm cramping until you finally give up. Drink a cold glass of water, wet your face, and go to bed frustrated; a routine disappointment.

You’d gotten lucky a few times, of course. Vibrator on the highest setting possible, pussy all puffed up and numb from the rough speed. Frustrated tears in your eyes, lightheaded by the time you finally feel that sweet sweet relief coursing through your veins.

A few times with Joel, too, in those first few months. And ignorance was bliss—quite literally—until he caught onto what you’d been doing.

“What was different tonight?” he’d asked you on one of those nights, laid out beside each other in his bed. Chests heaving, satisfied smiles spread across your faces.

Your hand had paused against his head, fingers twisted up in his sweaty curls, and you hesitated. So quick, the briefest pause before trying to play it off, but he caught it. Always too perceptive, too watchful of an eye; especially since you’d been diagnosed.

“What’s wrong?” Joel frowned.

“I… didn’t… my…” you’d mumbled, face tucked against his pillow.

“Can’t hear you when you do that,” he pressed a kiss to your shoulder. “Baby?”

“I didn’t take my meds today,” you repeated, voice still low, still wary. But you could tell he heard you. Knew from the way his body stiffened beside you. From how when you looked over his smile had dropped, eyebrows pinching inward.

For a moment he didn’t even say anything. He hardly breathed. And then—Darlin’, why would you do that?—so painfully soft, the faintest tinge of worry in that deep, rasping voice of his.

“I don’t know,” you sighed, and something hot began to burn behind your eyes. Wet, pinching shame. “Just… I woke up and I wanted you. And I wanted it to feel like it used to for us, and I can never… you know I can’t finish when I’m on them, and I hate feeling like I’m disappointing you—”

“Baby,” Joel shook his head, strong hand cupping your jaw. His forehead knocked against yours; a tender but firm kind of insistence. The type that says look me in the fucking eyes and listen up. “You’re not disappointin’ me.”

“Joel,” you sighed, face hot, foreheads tacky where they pressed together.

“No,” he grunted. “I fuckin’ mean it. This stuff takes time, okay? We’ll figure it out the way we always do. Just… don’t do that again. Please.”

“I won’t,” you murmured feebly, nose smushed against his.

“Promise me,” Joel had urged you. “Promise me you’ll take your medicine.”

“I promise, Joel.”

You kept strong on that promise. Didn’t get frustrated when he’d stay over more nights than usual, or drag you back to his place in the evenings – all just to watch you pop that little white pill in the mornings.

It brought out something new in him, the day you’d showed him the prescription. Like some instinctual protectiveness was unlocked and he just kicked into hyperdrive.

Cutting work early to drive you to your doctor’s office, cooking up different meals every night for dinner.

Most days you wake up alone in his bed; wipe the sleep out of your eyes as you wander downstairs. Let him nudge you into a chair at the table, beside Sarah, so he can set identical bowls of cereal in front of the two of you—his girls. Hell, if you had a dollar for every time that man has said Breakfast is the most important meal of the day in the past six months, you’d have more money than you could spend.

Joel didn’t even get mad when you started smoking again in May.

Didn’t bat an eye when he found you at two in the morning, sat on the back porch in one of his sweatshirts with the smell of tobacco staining your fingers.

“Been a long time since I seen once of those in your mouth,” he’d smirked, settling onto the stoop beside you.

“I’m sorry,” you grimaced, remembering how proud he’d been when you quit. He rested his head against your shoulder, eyes watering with a yawn.

“S’late,” he grumbled sleepily. “N’you smell now.”

“I’m sorry,” you’d repeated, stamping the cigarette into the concrete. “Today was just… hard. Couldn’t sleep.”

“S’okay,” Joel told you. “Just don’t like it when you sneak out on me, yeah? You know I ain’t judgin’ you.”

The only thing that frustrates Joel, is that he comes, and you don’t.

And it’s not a frustration with you. No, it’s a hot faced guilt that spreads through him every time you fuck. Evident in those frantic touches, desperate pleas of your name, of tell me what to do, tell me how to help, of fuck I’m sorry.

Because you still want him, despite it all. Still can’t help your wandering hands, your fingers that tease back his bed sheets and then his boxers and coax orgasm after orgasm out of him, night after night.

Tonight, you thought, would be no different.

Covers strewn across the end of your bed, pillows askew, you sit astride his lap.

It’s hot; the AC in your apartment has been broken all week, and your thighs are tacky with sweat where they press against his skin. Everything wet – sweat in your hair, slick between your thighs, the soft squelching sound that raises with every press of his cock inside of you.

“Fuck,” Joel pants, hands tight against your waist. “I can’t—goddammit, I’m not gonna last, baby.”

“It’s okay,” you moan, eyelids heavy as you rock your hips over his.

It’s late, and you both have work early in the morning, but the burn is so good like this. The heavy weight of him reaching so far, pushing the limits of what your body can take. For years it’s been your favourite way to fuck him; poised above his body, admiring the way his stomach tightens and his eyes roll when you sink down on his cock.

“What can I do?” his voice is strained, the veins in his neck bulging as he holds his breath – anything to stave off the impending high.

You only whimper pathetically, grinding your hips into his. Can feel everything in your stomach knotting up into a white-hot ball.

“Hey,” Joel urges, hand landing in a soft slap against your outer thigh. “Talk to me.”

“I don’t know,” you cry out, shaking your head. “It’s right there, but I…”

“But what?” he murmurs, hips snapping up again.

“I don’t think I can,” you finally admit, eyebrows drawn tight in frustration. Your lower lip is bitten raw at this point, incessantly gnawed at by your own teeth. His grip tightens on your hips and he drags you upward until his length slips out, falling against his stomach with a wet smack.

“C’mon, tell me what you need,” he says quickly, and you’re sure that the desperation you see in his eyes is mirrored in your own. Pupils blown round and fat, endless black—pleading.

You stare down at him for a moment. Watch the way his chest heaves with harsh, stilted breathes. How little dots of sweat have gathered at the hollow of his throat. And fuck, you want it so bad.

“Top drawer,” you exhale roughly, pointing to the side table.

Joel doesn’t question the order. Doesn’t say a word as he spreads a long arm across the bed, yanking the drawer open and shoving his hand inside. You watch him rifle around for a moment, pulse increasing as you wait for him to find what you want. What you need. And you can tell when he does; his shoulders stiffen and he lets out a choked sort of sound, pulling out the black wand and shoving it into your hand.

“Show me,” he says, eyes wild.

Your finger drops down against the button, turning your hand to show him which one to press.

“There’s four settings,” you murmur, slipping it back into his palm.

“Does this normally help?” he asks, grunting softly as you grip his cock, notching the tip back at your entrance.

“Sometimes,” you sigh, sinking down, sucking in the heavy weight of him. “Can still take a—a little while.”

He presses the button tentatively, watching as the rounded head of the wand starts to vibrate. Spread open around him, he can see your swollen little clit so easily, and he lowers the wand to press against it. Your body jolts forward, mouth splitting open with a groan as heat flares through you. Your hips stutter against him instinctively, chasing that intense feeling, and he looses a gravelly moan at the feeling of your wasted cunt squeezing around him.

“Look at that,” Joel grunts, dark eyes trained on your face. That wicked pink tongue slips out to wet his lips and he nods in encouragement. “I know, baby, I know it’s a lot, you feel good?”

“Yes,” you gasp, jaw going slack as you settle into the feeling. “Fuck, yes, it’s good, it’s good.”

It’s nothing you’ve ever felt before; nothing your past boyfriends had ever been comfortable enough to try. It has the muscles in your thighs tensing up already; the thick press of his cock paired with that unrelenting, almost overbearing, vibration.

“Can feel it,” he hisses out, head tilting back into the mattress.

“Yeah?”

“Mm,” he nods, expression grim. The muscle in his jaw twitches. “So fuckin’ tight like this. All wound up, y’need it so bad, I know.”

You moan, eyelids fluttering as he presses the button again, notching it to a higher speed. You lift up slowly and then press back down over him, and the two of you groan in unison. His free hand falls against the curve of your ass and he squeezes, encouraging you to rock against him, starting up a steady pace.

One of your hands settles on your chest, fingers twisting and pulling at your nipples. You need more, always more, something, anything.

“Look so fuckin’ good like this,” Joel mutters, and you can tell how fucked out he is already as he watches you. Dark eyes glazing over, mouth hanging open deliriously. “My pretty girl, so damn good for me.”

Your heart stumbles in your chest and you whimper, appreciation for him flooding your senses. He’s been so close for so long tonight already, teetering precariously on that edge but holding off for you. Fucking you into the mattress before pulling out and tucking his face between your thighs, doing his damnedest to get you to that same place. Urging you to get on top, to take what you needed, to use him to get yourself off.

“I love you,” you mumble breathlessly, eyes pinching closed as something sharp starts to tingle at the bottom of your stomach.

“Fuck, fuck,” Joel snarls, hips snapping upward.

“What ar—” your words cut off with choked moan as he clicks the button again, and then again, taking it to the highest speed. Your shoulders shake and you tilt forward a little, hand gripping his shoulder to steady yourself.

“Joel,” you cry out, chest heaving and stomach tightening.

Your fingers wrap around his wrist, searching for something to ground yourself against. That firm press against your clit doesn’t falter for a second, and you let out a rough moan.

“Good,” he grunts. “Good girl, give it to me.”

The muscle in his bicep spasms and strains beneath the skin, everything pulled taut as he keeps the wand pressed firmly against you. And it’s almost painful, the way you can feel your high coiling inside you, burning, but never quite reaching fever pitch the way you need it to.

A symphony that builds and billows and writhes within you. Sloping swells of violins and cellos and trumpets. Up, up, up to that shattering crescendo you just can’t seem to reach.

“Joel,” you mewl, and there’s tears in your eyes, on your cheeks. Hot, fat tears that stain your face now, dripping from your chin to splatter against his chest.

“C’mon now,” he grunts, hips shifting up off the bed, meeting you thrust for thrust. The stretch of his cock is so wide, so deep, and every shift of his body punches the air from your lungs.

“I don’t know if I can,” you shake your head, stomach on fire. The vibrations are so intense, the speed so fast, you can feel your clit going numb beneath it. But Joel doesn’t pull away, doesn’t stop the fast pace of his hips. The muscles in his abdomen twitch under you, tan skin glistening with sweat.

“You’re so close,” he goads, jaw tight. “Don’t fight it, baby.”

“Stop moving,” you beg then, your voice a high keen. Joel stills instantly, wary eyes darting across your face. He doesn’t pull the vibrator away though. Not yet.

“Fuck,” you cry out, hand firm against his stomach. “Just let me-just—”

Knees on fire against the bed, you grind your hips down into his. Gasp as his cock presses hot and heavy against something deep inside of you that sets your entire body shaking, vibrating against him; buzzing at the same high-speed rhythm as the wand between your legs. You rut against him again and again and then something pulls tight and hot at the base of your spine.

“Oh, fuck,” you gasp, eyes widening. “Oh god, Joel, I think—”

“Shh, I know, I know,” he moans. A bead of sweat rolls from his hairline to his chin. “You’re okay, let it happen.”

“Touch me,” you say, breathless and needy and so so desperate. “Fuck, please.”

Joel groans – a deep, guttural thing. A sound that comes from somewhere in the base of his stomach. It rattles your bones and has your fingernails digging into his stomach, and then his hand is on your chest. Rough fingers squeezing and stroking and pinching and you’re gasping, keening his name as he whispers frenzied words of encouragement and it’s building it’s building it’s building and and and—

Everything goes silent when you come. It’s all blurred vision and deafened ears; an intense ache in your jaw from the way your mouth hangs open. You can feel a vein in your neck, raging beneath the skin; a staccato rushing sound that echoes inside your head.

And you think you can hear Joel’s voice, somewhere beyond it all; Fuck, there it is, good girl, good fuckin’ girl.

When your eyes flutter open, you can only see Joel’s face swimming in your vision. His eyes rolling back, lips parted as he snarls your name.

“Fuck,” he spits. “—yeah, that’s it, there we fuckin’ go.”

You feel his cock kick inside of you; fast jerking spasms and then a warm rush as he starts to come. Your hand wraps around his, pushing the wand to the side of the bed, but he doesn’t fucking stop. He grips your waist and fucks up into you, spitting curses and warbled slurs of your name as he pumps you full of his hot spend.

It’s obscene – a mix of your come and his, squeezing out around his girth and smearing against the inside of your thighs. It pools around the base of his cock and you whimper at the sight, swollen cunt still tightening around him. Only when you start to sag down against his chest does he rest, his thighs twitching and tensing with the aftershocks of his high.

Joel raises a hand, calloused thumb brushing the tears from your cheeks. Then, carefully, he grips the back of your neck, guiding you down to rest against his chest.

Your shoulders slump and you press a lazy kiss against the jut of his collarbone. And for a moment there’s just this. No sounds but that of heavy breaths and a soft buzzing, forgotten somewhere in the sheets. The swipe of his fingertips down your spine, your lips against his salty skin. A gentle tap against your waist and he’s slipping out of you with a sigh, but not letting you pull away, not letting you move from where you’ve collapsed directly on top of him.

“Missed that,” you slur sleepily, fighting to keep your eyes open.

“Me too,” he mumbles. “Did so good. Made me proud.”

“S’that right?” you smile against his skin.

“S’right, baby.”

You hum, dragging your head up to press a kiss against his mouth. Both of you so exhausted that it’s just a brief, lazy swipe of your lips, but it’s enough. It’s thank you.

“Shower?” he suggests softly, smiling up at you.

“Or… cigarette?” you respond, eyebrows raised, teasing.

“Watch it,” he smarts, laying a quick smack against your ass before nudging you off of him. He stands and holds out a hand to help you off the bed, tutting underneath his breath. “Although I guess you’ve earned it.”

a/n: in hindsight, idk why the fuck i wrote that it took them six months to try this but what can you do lmao.

thank you for reading! x

#my writing #fic: take your medicine #joel miller fanfiction #joel miller smut #joel miller x reader #joel miller one shot

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sasusakucoded · 6 months

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Sasuke: *shows the map* So, instead of this regular path, we will take this instead. *points at the route traversing the forest*

Sakura: Sasuke-kun, can we stop by here? *points at the nearest village*

Sasuke: I don't think so, Sakura. Our mission will be delayed if we enter any of the villages.

Sakura: I see..

Sasuke: Do you need anything from that village?

Sakura: N-No.. I agree, we must take the fastest route.

Sasuke: Okay.

It was a lie. Sakura needed to go to a village with good medical supplies to re-stock her meds. At that time, she was taking Zoloft, a drug used to treat panic attacks, OCD, PTSD, depression, etc. Konoha didn't have any mental health professional during those years, so she and other shinobis who suffered from anxiety and mild depression went to a psychiatrist from another village. Sasuke's absence and their unclear situation before his return were the main causes of her mild depression. The pressure from work to be the best in her field at a young age added to her daily anxiety.

They started their journey again, going faster than before to meet their target date.

Sakura: /thinks/ It's okay, Sakura. One to three days of missing your meds shouldn't be a problem. Besides, you plan to stop taking it permanently right? Just keep going and try to forget it.

Sasuke: Let's take a break?

Sakura: Huh?

Sasuke: I said let's stop and take a break..

Sakura: S-Sure. *keeps going*

Sasuke: *halts* Sakura!

Sakura: *looks back and stops* Oh! S-Sorry.. I didn't hear you.

Sasuke: *goes to her* We have enough shade here. It's a good location.

Sakura: Yeah.

---

Sasuke kept on looking at Sakura because he felt something was different. They had been together for 3 weeks now but this was the first time that she was very quiet.

Sakura: Aw! *touches her head*

Sasuke: Are you okay? What happened?

Sakura: It's.. It's normal, Sasuke-kun.. Brain zap.

Sasuke: Brain zap?

Sakura: *nods* Don't mind me. *fake smiles*

Sasuke: Are we good to go?

Sakura: Yes.

Sasuke: Just tell me when you're tired, okay?

Sakura: Yeah..

They continued running and Sakura felt like she was going to vomit.

Sakura: *stops and coughs while holding her chest*

Sasuke: Sakura! *goes back* Sakura! Hey.. *rubs her back* Do you want water? Maybe we went too early.. You probably haven't digested your food yet.

Sakura: No— It's my— It's my— *coughs and tries to puke but nothing comes out*

Sasuke: Sit down, Sakura. Don't force yourself.

Sakura: No, I'm fine.. Let's keep running. I don't want to delay this..

Sasuke: No, we're not going until you're okay—

Sakura: I won't be okay.. So, let's just continue..

Sasuke: Hey.. *holds her face* What's happening? Please tell me.. I— I want to help.

Sakura: I'm sorry.. I didn't want to be a burden—

Sasuke: You're not. You're.. You're more important than this mission..

Sakura: Sasuke-kun! *starts sobbing*

Sasuke: If you don't want to tell me, it's okay I—

Sakura: I skipped my meds.. I have no meds left.

Sasuke: Meds? *checks his bag* What do you need?

Sakura: *stops him* You don't have them.. They're antidepressants.

Sasuke didn't know that Sakura was suffering from depression. Her happy disposition made him think otherwise.

Sasuke: I'm sorry.. I didn't know you're going through things..

Sakura: It's dumb.. I was worried of the littlest things.. I was worried you were not coming back.. I was scared I won't be as good as Lady Tsunade.. So, I went to a psychiatrist outside The Leaf to seek help. She gave me meds..

Sasuke: Is that the reason why you wanted to stop by a village? You should've told me, Sakura.. Tsk, it's my fault—

Sakura: No.. I thought I'll be fine.. I started taking those meds a week before you came back. I was supposed to withdraw from it but the psychiatrist said it will take me 2 months to see its benefits.

Sasuke: Do you feel better when you take them?

Sakura: Yeah. But I also feel the side effects.. Like right now, the brain zaps I'm getting is crazy. I'm nauseous and my heart is beating so fast.. There's a jarring pain in my head.. I don't know how to make them stop..

Sasuke: *takes out his map* Should we go to the nearest village?

Sakura: They don't have mental clinics there, so I doubt they have available meds.. It's okay, Sasuke-kun—

Sasuke: It's not. You're not well, Sakura. Y-You're different.. I know something is wrong..

Sakura: I told you it's— *palpitates*

Sasuke: Sakura! Sakura!

Sasuke panicked. He didn't know what to do so he just hugged her. He realized how her body was shaking really badly. He stared into her eyes and noticed how lifeless they looked. It worried him so much.

Sakura: I.. I can't.. Breathe. *faints*

Sasuke: Sakura! Sakura!

Sasuke took her to the nearest cave and immediately sent a hawk to Tsunade, Kabuto, and Orochimaru. He received their replies within 2 hours, which frustrated Sasuke because it was too long for him.

Sasuke: Sakura.. Sakura.. You have to eat before you take your meds.

Sakura: *tries to open her eyes* But I don't have—

Sasuke: I wrote a note to the 5th Hokage and she was able to send us some pills. *shows her* Is this correct? Zoloft?

Sakura: Yes! Oh my..

Sasuke: Okay, you have to eat first.. I prepared some sort of tomato soup. Sorry, I know you don't like it—

Sakura: I'll eat it.. I'll eat anything you made..

Sasuke: Okay.. *feeds her* By the way, she has a personal note for you.. *gives a closed mini envelope*

Sakura: *takes out the note and reads it*

Dear Sakura,

Sorry if it took me time to send the pills. You know we don't have them in Konoha, so I had to ask from another place.

I've talked to the psychiatrist. You should still take them until you reach the 2nd month. From there you can stop taking them if you can. I know you're feeling better nowadays with Sasuke by your side. You should know that there's a condition called Serotonin Syndrome. If you're already happy, that means your serotonin levels are high. Which also means you don't need to take meds anymore. Too much serotonin is harmful too.

Once you're available, visit your psychiatrist to make sure that your brain chemicals are balanced. That's all my dear. I hope you'll be okay soon.

Sincerely,

Tsunade

Sasuke: *sees her smiling* Another spoonful, Sakura?

Sakura: *nods*

Sasuke: After this, rest for a bit.. Then when you're ready I'll massage your back.

Sakura: Massage?

Sasuke: Yeah. Orochimaru said it's good for blood flow..

Sakura: Orochimaru? You also wrote to him?

Sasuke: Yes.. And to Kabuto too.. *gives her one pill and a glass of water* Here, Sakura..

Sakura: *takes it* Thanks, Sasuke-kun.. I.. I didn't know you'll understand my situation.. Of all people.. You see.. I've told this to my parents.. They said I'm strong and it's nothing.. Like, I've fought wars.. So, it must be nothing. I tried telling Ino too.. She thought I was joking..

Sasuke: Sakura..

Sakura: I'm just genuinely happy that you understand this. *smiles softly*

Sasuke: Sakura.. Our brain is a major organ.. Just like our heart or our kidney or our liver, our brain can become sick too. And those people who suffer from heart illnesses, you don't tell them it's nothing. You know it's something serious.

Sakura: Sasuke-kun!

Sasuke: I couldn't tell whether I got depressed before, but I know the feeling of extreme loneliness..

Sakura: *smiles* Sasuke-kun..

Sasuke: It was worse than any physical illness.. I couldn't function correctly.. So, I kind of know how you are feeling..

Sakura: *nods*

Sasuke: Ah, Kabuto suggested to play some music to make your brain a bit relaxed.. I chose a song when you were sleeping.. *plays it*

Sakura: *listens* Nothing's really wrong yet.. Nothing's really wrong yet.. Yeah.. That's correct.

Sasuke: Do you like it?

Sakura: Yes!

Sasuke: Okay. Rest here for a bit. I'll get some wood. When I get back, I'll massage your back.

Sakura: Okay.. Um.. Sasuke-kun!

Sasuke: Hm?

Sakura: Thank you..

#Spotify #sasusaku #sasusaku headcanon #blank period #from ask #ty anon #sscoded no 258

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runawaymarbles · 1 year

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Hi I am here Asking About Your Parents' Bunnies as requested

🐇💕💕

(For those who didn't see it: i reblogged a poll that asked people whether they got their pets from breeders, pet stores, shelters or somewhere else.)

The Story Of My Parents' Bunnies goes thusly:

🐇when he was a grad student, after he met my mom but before they were dating, my father got a baby bunny he named Roxanne. I don't know where from; my guess is a pet store. He then proceeded to call my mom and say that he had a baby bunny, did she want to come meet her?

🐇🐇 my mom did in fact want to meet my dad's baby bunny. Fast forward several years and they are married and going to an annual Christmas party. The host's son-- since moved out-- had a bunny named Roger, who lived on his parents' deck. My mom, who is not fond of crowds, would spend the party out on the deck talking to the bunny. One year the hosts just sent Roger home with her.

🐇🐇eventually Roxanne died. Roger was very mopey about it, and my parents thought he was depressed. So they got another bunny from a shelter of some kind (I believe) and named him Zoloft. I did not get this joke for another ten years.

🐇🐇🐇at the time there was an amazing rabbit vet nearby, who was also the vet for the buns at the Rabbit Rescue. "They have this cute bunny named Timmy," the vet told my mom. "You should really meet Timmy." My mother, of course, went to visit Timmy, and held him for a while. She was relaying this to my dad who said something like "wait, you were HOLDING Timmy???" as he realized that no matter what she claimed, Timmy was definitely coming to live with us. Timmy came to live with us. He is best remembered for walking (not hopping) on linoleum and eating animal crackers.

🐇🐇Zoloft died somewhere in here, idr exactly when

🐇🐇🐇There was a also a little grey bunny at the Rabbit Rescue that ended up coming home around that time; my mom named her Elizabeth Cady Stanton because she "lived in a male-dominated hutch." Cady was very sweet until she was spayed and after that she was kind of a jerk tbh. But we loved her.

🐇🐇🐇🐇 my mom is something similar to a social worker, and when I was in first grade, the mom on one of her cases was arrested. She went over there to help figure out where all the kids could stay, and discovered they had a bunny in a little cage, with no food. (The family had themselves rescued this bunny from the upstairs neighbor, who kept him in a hamster ball.) So when my mom got all the kids sorted she also got the bunny sorted. By taking it with her.

Ben was referred to as "the dependent bunny" by the office for the rest of forever. The office was Not Thrilled. But the kids weren't able/that interested in taking care of him: I don't know what happened, exactly, but my mom stayed on the case and Ben lived with us until he died ten years later.

That bunny was a genius and a chaos gremlin. He knew exactly where he wasn't supposed to be and dedicated his time to getting into them. One of his greatest hits was pushing an empty cardboard box up against the baby gate, using it as a step, clearing the baby gate and eating my homework.

^This is Ben towards the end of his life when he started to need baths.

🐇🐇🐇Roger and Timmy died (Roger was 12!! Timmy was only 5. Sob.) so it was just Ben and Cady at home when my mom met yet another bunny at the Rabbit Rescue when she went in to collect her usual 40 pound bag of litter. She had one stand-up ear and one floppy ear and head butted my mom when she stopped petting her and you all know where this is going but could you say no to this face??

Neither could my mom. This was Daisy Mae. We didn't meet a bunny Ben couldn't get along with until her. My dad had to build a new bunny condo with a divider down the middle. After Cady died we spent years trying to get Ben and Daisy to live together; it worked for a little while, but they had a tumultuous and bloody divorce that in separate incidents sent each of them to the vet and my mother to the ER.

🐇🐇🐇 A year or so after The Divorce, my friend called me up to say that her sister had adopted a bunny for 4H, but also wanted to show him at ARBA, and he didn't qualify for both so she was going to adopt this one out and get a different bunny....... and did we want to come meet this one? "We are not bringing him home," my mother said. "We are definitely not bringing him home." "That's okay," said my friend's mom. "We can just take him to the humane society." ...anyway, my mom named the bunny Lionel Messi because he was a) a lionhead b) fast as fuck and c) a slob.

(^ Lio circa 2015)

🐇🐇🐇🐇PJ Funny Bunny and Smokey the Hare came from the animal shelter my mom started buying litter from after she had a falling out with the woman who owned the Rabbit Rescue. In a truly smooth move by the owner, when we came by to say hi to the two bunnies that had come in, the owner said "oh I thought you were taking them with you" when we tried to leave empty-handed. My mom kind of bluescreened for a minute and...the rabbits ended up in the car. PJ Funny Bunny was so named because he didn't like carrots, and Smokey was grey and we thought we were funny. Neither of them lived more than a couple years after that but we aren't going into the sad parts of this story thankyouverymuch. PJ had a pedigree, which we always thought was hilarious. We pretended he was a snob about it.

🐇🐇🐇 Frankie came from that same shelter a couple years later. He'd had a bladder infection, which my mom had noticed and brought to the attention of the owner: You Won't Believe What Happened Next. We named him Frankie because he had blue eyes. This bunny was an absolute delight. This was the spring before my freshman year of college, and I seriously contemplated bringing him with me since my parents were not sold on an additional bunny at the time. I didn't, which was good, because he pretty much keeled over right at the beginning of my freshman year. (We stopped going to that shelter after that, given the track record.)

(^Frankie)

🐇Daisy died around that same time, so then my parents just had Lio, and they were thinking, maybe Lio will be the last bunny. Frankie's death was pretty devastating, and I wasn't living at home anymore and they wanted to travel, and it's easier to get a pet sitter for a dog than a bunny, and the bunny hutch takes up a big chunk of the kitchen they maybe they wanted to use for other things.

🐇🐇They lived under this illusion for several years, until one of their friends said that their neighbors had found a baby dutch bunny under a car on the street. Due to the timing we think he was an Easter bunny that got dumped a couple months later. "We will only keep it if it's a girl," my parents said, because that would make it more likely that the bunny would get along with Lio. The bunny was not a girl. "We will only keep him if he gets along with Lio," they said. The bunny did not get along with Lio. They kept him anyway. His name is Tricksy Belted, a play on Trixie Beldon, because he's a belted dutch bunny. He is the sweetest bunny in the word and that is a scientific fact.

🐇🐇A few weeks after Lio died (at age, like, 11) my parents thought that maybe Tricksy should have a friend. So in 2020 just before lockdown they went and got a bunny On Purpose for the first time since they adopted Zoloft in 1998. Her name is Tosh, and she came from a rabbit rescue that got shut down in 2023 for being crazy overcrowded.

And that's where we are currently.

#asks #bunnies #pets #my family #this is much longer than I thought it'd be #the important thing to know is that the fruit bowl lives on top of the bunny hutch #and they do demand a banana tax #op #anons

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tiktaalic · 9 months

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love the taylor autism theory bc it's probably true. that said i watched miss americana and was like "oh she has OCD ocd" so. more spaghetti for your wall, if you want it

interesting. i watched miss americana and was like oh this woman has an anxiety disorder . this woman is like if #giftedkidsproblems happened to you when you were 17 and then continued to happen to you for the rest of your life and also you're famous and getting talked about in tabloids. this woman could be fixed for a minimum of a year maybe more with 6? sessions of talk therapy coupled with 200 mg of zoloft. which is also why i think going to med school would fix her for the duration. lofty goal + constant work to attain it for ten years give or take minus a competition element because competition elements are what make her crazy because she either gets the fleeting high of a win and then is upset when it doesnt satisfy her long term and she has to compete again. or the lasting crushing disappointment of a loss

#anonymous #ask #t swift #sorry for armchair diagnosing taylor swift. in my defense she did release miss americana

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thepeachyouhadtopick · 5 months

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ANYTHING BUT ORDINARY | Chapter Twenty-Six

Ell and Johnny reflect on upsetting events of the night before, but luckily their supportive friends are there to get them through. Plus, there's some good news to celebrate.

Very dialogue heavy chapter with some sweet moments between Ell, Steve-O and Steph. Also some extremely cute fluff between Ell and Johnny. I hope this is ok, it's sort of a bridging chapter between the last one and the next few extra-dramatic parts. Also, I feel like my chapters keep getting longer each time. Maybe I should start breaking them up a bit? Let me know what you think. Happy to also take suggestions and prompts as always!

CW for nightmares, harassment, hint at stalking, hint at physical violence, smoking, alcohol, mention and description of sex

Taglist: @lizey-thornberry @babybammargera @zolofts (let me know if you want to be added to the taglist!)

“How’s Ell today? We heard what happened,” Jeff asked as Johnny took the chair next to him at breakfast the next morning. All Johnny could do was let out an exasperated sigh. He stared down at his breakfast - a greasy Full English with extra bacon - wondering how he was going to eat any of it when his stomach was sick with worry. “She’s not great,” Johnny confessed, leaning back in his chair. “She had a couple of nightmares in the night so she’s still upstairs tryna sleep some more.” “Oh, man, that sucks,” replied Jeff. “It gets worse,” he added. “When she turned her phone on this morning, she had a bunch of texts and voicemails from him asking to talk to her and to meet up with him or whatever.” “Shit! What’s she gonna do?” “She’s blocked his number now, but she’s convinced he’s gonna just try again on a different number. I don’t know, man, I think she’s really scared. Last night in the bar…I’ve never seen her like that before. Steve-O said the same thing. She was screaming at him, just unable to stop crying. I’ve never seen someone look so scared. He’s in her head, man.”

#icr if i've used this gif before sorry #johnny knoxville #johnny knoxville / original female character #johnny knoxville fluff #mtv jackass #jackass #steve-o #pj clapp #bam margera #johnny knoxville fic #jackass fic #ryan dunn

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iamthunderhearmehowl · 5 months

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Let me tell you about the tattoo that my mom hates (this is a long ass post btw)

✨️Trigger Warning✨️

Suicide / Depression

- - - - - -

Hey, hi, it's me. This is the only place I feel really open about sharing things - but with the holidays and cold months coming up I know how hard it can be for people who are struggling with depression/ bi polar / familial trauma, etc. So here's this post to remind you (and me) that we'll be okay. You and me. We will be okay. We are still breathing, and with every breath we take, we still have a shot at living the lives we've dreamed of.

You see this tattoo? I got it as a reminder. Oh yeah, also it's a Dark Souls tattoo. It says "Don't You Dare Go Hollow".

My mom HATES it, but she has come to terms with how much I love this tattoo.

But anyways, I got this tattoo to remind myself to keep going. I got it about 1-2 years after I attempted to leave this earth on my own accord.

Background (skip if you want)

It was 2020. I had been a Veterinary Assistant (technician basically depending on what state you're in, TN treats the assistants the same as technicians). Clients were beating me down dude. I had phones thrown at me. I had death threats. I had people telling me I was a worthless piece of shit. I wanted to help these animal, but to do that I felt like I had to take and accept this slurry of abuse. I was unmedicated. I felt alone. I felt like I was nothing. An empty vessel. So one day I was supposed to go to work and we were working on a skeleton crew. 12 to 13 hours a day, days in a row, sometimes we would still have to go in on our off days. I couldn't do it anymore. I called out. I said I was sick. The response "I'm sorry you're sick, but that puts our team in a hard spot". That was it. The last straw.

I ended up going to the ER. I stayed there for a week. And thrn I ended up in a mental institution for 3 days. I was started on Zoloft.

All was well for a little bit. I stayed in my profession and decided to go to Tech School to brighten my future and make some more money.

It was. The most stressful time of my life. While I did leave my previous clinic I switched to ER and Specialty and lasted only about 6 months there. Before I realized I was spiraling again. I felt like a failure as a tech. I was worthless. I wasn't enough. I got let go. If I had been doing this for 5 years and could do this what fucking good was I? I saw the signs. I understood what was happening. I sought help and went to group therapy at a behavioral hospital.

It was amazing. The people I met, the counselors, I made so many friends and people who believed in me. We increased the dosage of my meds.

Now. I'm at a new clinic. I'm spiraling again. I'm in bad health. The doctors don't know what's wrong with me, but I have a sneaking suspicion that it's stress from my career. I still come home sobbing. I come home feeling empty. No amount of medication can help free me from the unhappiness of my job. At one point I loved it. Somewhere along the way I realized that this isn't the life I want. I love your pets. I love my current clients. But I can't take the pressures of possibly getting hurt or sick. My back is messed up from this job, all of my joints pop and hurt, I have damaged and fractured my teeth from grinding them from stress. I am always tired. Working 10+ hours with just a one hour break isn't cutting it. I am miserable.

So.

I took the fucking leap guys. I'm doing it. I'm switching my career. I'm going back to my roots. I'm being creative and doing what. I started podcasting and realized how much I missed being myself. My VTNE is next month and I don't give a shit.

The game changer was really being inspired by the voice acting in Baulder's Gate 3. Hearing Neil Newbon's speech when he accepted his award made me cry. I took one of Steve Blums voice acting classes and . . . My God it was like finally hearing the affirmation I never got from my parents.

Back to the Tattoo

My point is, no matter how hard it gets, please allow yourself to enjoy the things you love and fuck what everyone else says. You do yourself a disservice if you don't give yourself a break. If you don't be true to yourself, if you don't strive for the life you've dreamed of.

It's why my tattoo is the Bonfire from Dark Souls. In your journey, you're going to fail multiple times. Sometimes, you get hung up on the same damn spot over and over and over again. Sometimes, you have to reface your enemies. DONT EVEN GET ME STARTED ON THE BOSS BATTLES. You may fail thousands of times, but you know what you do? You go back to your bonfire- your safe place- and you heal up. You get the fuck back up the next day and do it again. Sometimes your game plan changes. You don't have to fight this boss today. You can fight him when you're ready. You don't have to make huge progress in the game today - you can dick around and look for good armor. You can change the whole path you take if you want to - it doesn't matter. In the end you will eventually accomplish what you've came to do.

I have really been fighting for my life lately, but I don't want to lose hope. If I give up, then I'll never see the end of the game or move on to the next one.

It's hard sometimes. But my favorite quote is:

"So if you ever find yourself in a slump, remember your purpose - whatever it may be - and never stop fighting for your goals, no matter how crazy they may seem. And don't you dare go hollow"

I don't know you guys but I love you. And if you need someone to tell you that personally my inboxes are open.

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datadegroove · 17 days

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for anyone curious what happens when you stop taking zoloft suddenly everytime i move my head i can feel my brain shift in cerebrospinal fluid

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storiesofsvu · 1 year

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Habits of the Heart Ch 3

Warnings: Talk of assault, talk of mental health issues, self harm and suicide, nothing graphic! Language, usual SVU type case work.

The next case you caught was less than heartwarming, the victim had come forward originally, making an outcry statement to her sister, who came to SVU with the information. Olivia sent you and Carisi to talk to the vic, only to find her gone from the apartment, when you’d eventually tracked her down it was on the ledge of a roof in the middle of Manhattan. Carisi was more than impressed with the very gentle way you talked to her as you very hesitantly moved closer to her, far enough away that he couldn’t quite make out what you were saying. He was even more impressed when the poor girl climbed down, collapsing in a fit of sobs into your arms. Your heart was hammering in your chest, you were sure she was going to end up going over the edge and the rescue crew hadn’t gotten there yet. You gave her a few long moments of reassuring and comforting, letting her know it was going to be okay before you collected her down to the precinct.

Back at the 16th Olivia let you take lead since you had the strongest connection with Julia, sending Carisi back to talk to the sister. When you entered the room with a spare bottle of water, it was just Olivia on the other side of the glass. You kept your movements slow and cautious, your voice steady and soft as you tried to get Julia to open up about her attack. She was clearly rattled up, practically jumping out of her skin when an alarm went off on her phone, she silenced it quickly, reaching into her bag.

“Sorry…” She muttered, dumping out a pill into her hand.

“It’s okay.” You gave her a soft smile, then you found your in, recognizing the little yellow pill in her palm, “Zoloft?” You questioned as she popped it into her mouth, brows furrowing as she swallowed a gulp of water with the anti depressant.

“What, they give you a pharmaceutical degree with that badge?” She shot back, you sighed, folding your arms against the table between you.

“No. I was on them for a couple years.”

“What happened?”

“I…got my heart broken…sent me off the deep end into a pretty bad downward spiral.” Julia was shocked by your honesty, but you knew it was the easiest way to slowly break away at her shell, get the story out of her. What you didn’t know was that Casey had arrived at the precinct and was on the other side of the one way glass. Her heart dropped into her stomach listening to the words you were saying, she knew it was a tactic for detectives to make up stories to get through to people but she also knew in her soul that this wasn’t fake.

“They really let a cutter be a cop?” Julia realized her brashness a second too late, “Sorry…”

“Don’t worry about it.” You sighed, “Self harm isn’t always about cutting, I threw myself into my work, I barely slept, definitely indulged in too much wine, I did everything I could to distract myself from having a spare moment to think about my ex. I nearly lost my job…”

It had been a really bad couple of years for you, you’d been so fucking head over heels for Casey it took nearly two months for you to even come to terms with the cheating part of the scandal. Your heart was absolutely wrecked, you’d just started at a new precinct and didn’t have the support system you needed to help you out of the deep pit, you just continued to dig it deeper. It was when you’d nearly been shot on the job that you attended a mandatory therapy session, breaking down into a fit of sobs over everything, which resulted in the Zoloft being prescribed. When your Captain in Brooklyn had to suspend you, you knew you needed to change something in your life, and put in transfer papers knowing Manhattan needed a few extra hands. When the squad was more than welcoming and you found the incredible support of Sonny as a friend and Fin as a partner, you managed to start pulling yourself out of said pit.

“Did you ever think about ending it?” Julia’s voice was wavering, you could see the tears pooling in her eyes.

“Not exactly…but I definitely thought it would be easier to simply not exist than deal with the heartbreak anymore…”

“So you get it?”

“Yeah. I really do.” You slowly reached out, giving her hand a soft squeeze, “Julia, there’s another way out of this…if you tell me about what happened, we can catch the bastard and you don’t have to worry about him ever again. I know it seems like such an easy way out to just disappear, but you’ve already survived, and survival is strength. We’ll put him behind bars, and I know a few very well recommended people you can talk to that will help you move past all of this, because life is worth living. Believe me…I know…”

It was then that she broke, tears slowly slipping their way across her cheeks while she went through excruciating details of her assault. On the other side of the glass Casey felt her own tears burning in her eyes, she’d had no idea what you’d gone through after you’d left. She’d been so wrapped up in trying to save Charlie, brain scrambled by his psychotic games that she didn’t even happen to think about how you were coping. She didn’t notice you standing, giving Julia a gentle squeeze on the shoulder as you moved from the room, you gave her a slight nod in greeting as you spoke to Benson.

“I’ll take her to Mercy myself, I just…need a minute…”

“Course.” Liv replied, you disappeared into the precinct, giving yourself time to try and calm down. You wondered how much of your story Casey had heard, or if she thought it was just a tactic of yours. “You okay?” Olivia addressed the A.D.A. beside her. Casey shook out of her trance,

“Yeah…I just…Summers did really well in there. Mental health’s hard to work around…” She couldn’t quite find the words without admitting secrets to Olivia and she wasn’t ready for that yet.

***

It took a few hours, but Julia’s rape kit was finally down at the lab and she was back at her sister’s apartment. Rollins and Fin had brought in her attacker while you and Sonny were down at Mercy, leaving the questioning to the two of you. Sonny ended up running off to a family dinner while you wrapped up this stage of paperwork. You dropped it off in Benson’s office, her giving you a quick thank you before she spoke again,

“You got a minute Summers?” Sighing gently, you’d been waiting for this all day, taking a lean against the arm of one of the chairs in front of her desk.

“Yeah.”

“That wasn’t just some story today, was it?” Olivia was gentle, you often praised the way she was able to deal so softly with victims before absolutely tearing apart a perp.

“No..” You shook your head, “I went off the Zoloft a few months after I transferred here, everything’s been great.”

“If you ever need to talk—“ You cut her off slightly, a small smile on your face.

“I go to therapy every two weeks Liv, I promise you I’m fine, and I’ll be the first to tell you if anything starts to go downhill. It’s just…my ex..kinda popped back up, took me by surprise, kinda threw a curve ball into things.” She gave you a soft smile,

“Okay. Great job today, now get outta here before I have to kick you out. You call me if you need anything.”

“I will.” You promised before leaving her office, a huff of satisfaction leaving your lips before you gathered your things.

#casey novak #casey novak x reader #habits of the heart #law and order #law and order svu #svu #law and order special victims unit

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sdyd · 9 months

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𝑀. sentence starters ... various sentence starters from my own writing. change tense / pronouns as necessary.

I have had many, many years to reflect upon that.

I thought the same, once.

with high hopes and lofty ambition comes the potential for great disappointment.

I do not intend to be humorous.

there is no concrete answer in hypothesis. that is what experimentation is for.

that is a peculiar question ...

it's more miserable, honestly.

I'm on Zoloft.

sorry. but hey ! he's dead.

meet me back here in, say, 24 hours ?

do you have a plane by any chance ?

If the gods tell you to do something, you do it.

what ? no, I'm perfectly sane.

ya ever get the urge t'just beat the $&!# outta your dad ?

life is so unfair, is it not ?

I miss my wife ...

$75 on the strange creature of indeterminate gender.

yeah, if you had a brain.

I do got a brain ! Everyone's got one !

you'd be surprised of what you're capable of when you're being chased by cops. or superheroes.

it ain't a crime if they're rich.

sounds like my college graduation party.

that was a big monologue where a simple "I hate you" would suffice.

I don't speak French.

if the tens of thousands of kilometers of blood vessels that make up your body burn with hate for me, it is not equal to even a tenth of the loathing I have felt for you since the moment you were born.

oh man I sooooo did not sign up for your family drama.

maybe I'm just trying to convince myself more than you.

what I'm trying to say is that — instead of beating yourself up for all the bad things that happened, maybe you should focus on the fact it all happened because you wanted to do something good.

dead moms are great motivators for crazy shit.

what was the end goal of it all ?

I have spent hours pouring over my work, trying to understand the mind of the person who wrote it.

why did you do in the first place?

heed my advice then, and go for it.

ah ! you are shy, worry not, I understand.

to lovers everywhere !

don't take it took hard, she's disappointed in me too.

I love her. I miss her.

I think you're just insane.

I chose you out of millions of others, and this is how you express your gratitude ?

I'm not the best at comforting, but feel free to let it out.

you do not get to die and come back as you were.

dreams are only nice while they last, I suppose.

I require your assistance in an utmost important matter.

psychology is rather fascinating, is it not ? I had long thought it a soft science, but the mind is rather intriguing.

as an expert in these matters, I most certainly see the sparks of mutual romance.

that was the glance of a woman in love !

I was being facetious.

I should have been a comedian, I know.

keep his name out of your wretched mouth!

my dear lady, it sounds like a fairytale !

I am a lesbian with a quest and I have succeeded in it.

I do not forgive you.

I am a rather forgiving person when it is I myself that is scorned. some may say it is a flaw.

ah, I did run into the woods in despair ! but alas, I did return, to this world of horror.

I did attempt to call force an exorcism, but my cries went unheard.

shut up ! you know nothing of me !

I have known you since you were four ! I know everything about you ! like for example, that you never grew out of watching --

remember when you used to drag us all up to the mountains to watch storms ?

that was terrible of me, utterly terrible. it is unforgiveable.

I should have done better by you.

I think the GPS is busted ...

dude ! you crashed into me ! and it gave you a boner ?!

I don't give a fuck about your dick.

why was [ name ] in the trunk ?

wow, you're a huge dick, aren't you ?

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thebreakfastgenie · 11 months

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Posts about weight loss and whether it is/isn't possible never seem to discuss like. Weight gain from artificial factors? I'm not actually sure what my highest weight was, but I lost 40-50 pounds gradually over a couple of years, but the bulk of it fairly quickly. I don't know yet how long I'll keep it off, but I'm guessing I will keep most of it off unless I have some kind of big life change, because it happened kind of naturally. I wasn't trying to lose weight. I moved to a city and started walking a lot more, which is a big factor, but I also started losing the weight shortly after I stopped taking zoloft. Zoloft, or perhaps the combination of zoloft and hormonal birth control, put some extra weight on me, and when I lost that I felt so much better. It became easier to be more active because my balance was better. I feel like that weight wasn't my natural baseline. When I lost more weight after that, I didn't notice as much of a difference in how I physically felt. Now, some people can't just stop taking medications that have weight gain as a side effect (I stopped taking zoloft because I didn't need to take it, many people do) and I think it's probably difficult/impossible to lose that extra weight while on medications that have that effect. So I'm definitely not saying like, oh the advice people are giving is wrong because it doesn't consider this. I just think it's weird this is never part of the conversation when it's probably a significant factor for a lot of people. For what it's worth I'm very "more exercise, more fresh fruits and vegetables, whole grains, etc." because those things are good for you regardless of effects on weight.

#cw weight loss #I hate that talking about my own objective experience of my body sounds like humblebragging or something lmao #I'm not doing that!!! in many ways this has been a pain!!!#I had to get all new clothes and I get COLD now #in other ways it's been good

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asimmingpunsquared · 8 months

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still feeling horrible - the zoloft withdrawal dizziness is actually getting worse instead of better (???) and now i'm having trouble taking a deep breath, which according to google actually has a scientific name but i can't remember. it's only been a week, so i still have to wait it out. i think i feel so bad because yesterday i was actually feeling better so i pushed myself to do more chores around the house and uh. i am feeling the repercussions. the repercussies, if you will.

literally the only thing i can do rn is play the sims. i bought the battlepass for overwatch this season before i knew i'd be changing my meds, so i might make my partner play for me so i can get my rewards lasgdksglksgs. anyway, sims. i've been particularly getting into decorating. i also found out what was causing my crashing when doing makeovers - i think, years ago, when my onedrive fucked up and reset some stuff in my game, the 4gb patch unapplied itself. shoutout to @sometownie for mentioning this in one of their gameplay posts. they mentioned that they weren't getting the pink soup that normally happens when you don't have the 4gb patch applied - i hadn't either, which is what inspired me to check. so like, psa if you're having unexplained crashes with no pink soup, check to make sure the 4gb patch hasn't mysteriously vanished. shoutout again to sometownie for inspiring me to actually decorate (and push outside of my comfort zone with decoration - which is like, the first two pages of whatever category, lmao). and shoutout to coolors.co, which i think i saw @gir-sims using, for generating inspiring color palettes so i don't just make all my sims houses decorated with various shades of brown, white and blue with yellow and pink throw in for some spice.

anyway i'm still able to work because i work from home mostly listening to audio and editing text, which also means i'm able to play the sims and edit pictures during work! i haven't been much in the mood to edit, mostly just play, but i'll try and get some editing done to get back to posting. gameplay-wise i'm in university of week 3 year 5 but i took a break to do some decorating around stilla.

#text #long rambly text cause my brain is scattered

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swampgallows · 2 years

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thread on reddit about “what made you not kill yourself?” and all these people being like ohh my pets, my kids, my family, my best friend, etc and all i can think of is how people in my life would just make it about themselves

when T died all these fake ass motherfuckers came out of the woodwork talking about how they loved him sooo much and blah blah blah. none of these people fucking took him in. i lived in my dorm at the time but i let him sleep on my floor when i could get away with it, he even stayed over at my parents house once or twice cause they knew he was a good guy. all these people who knew he was trying to go straight and recover but kept pulling him back into drug shit. the system failed him in a lot of ways too (esp options limited to people who’ve been to prison) but i saw how people around him failed him too. i, too, feel that i failed him. i could have done things differently, but i was young and naiive.

ive written it before but when T died the main reaction was people making it about themselves, how theyre so sad now, how theyre missing something, etc. theyd make him take the bus to his own fuckin parties. demand guest list when it was like 10-15 at the crud. his own fucking mom wouldnt take him in but still posts on his fb all the time about how she misses her beautiful boy. when it came to actual talking about T, the majority of people just sort of shrugged and went ��eh, he was on that track anyway” or “it was inevitable” or “it was bound to happen eventually”, and feeling no real remorse or regret that someone who was clearly in need of help never got any.

and i feel pretty certain that would happen with me. all the people who bullied me in high school hearing that “bead girl killed herself, but eh, she was always pretty weird” or “well she’s always been depressed so :\” or “omg did covid finally get her? she never shut the fuck up about it” or “oh THOSE PEOPLE would have just died of the flu anyway”. those people. those people. those people. hell people have been begging me to kill myself since i was like 13 years old, i would just be fulfilling their wish.

there is a lot of talk about ‘battling suicide’ and ‘raising awareness’ but we still dont use the language yet about losing the battle. we never say we lost someone to suicide, we still say that they “committed” it, that it was an act on their part unprecedented by anything else, a choice they made that was “selfish” and independent of other factors. some have been trying to say people “die by suicide”, but you dont hear anyone say that people die of depression or that people die of mental illness.

and yet they do. they die of illness. they die of mental illness. suicide is not something that happens when you are healthy. every fiber of our being rebels against it, unless there is an illness to override it. saying it is a selfish choice someone made is like accusing someone of purposefully cultivating their cancer. and yet people do that too, the way they treat substance users. they ignore what help these people need and blame them for their poor coping mechanisms or their lack of access to treatment.

yes, i know being isolated at home for the last decade isn’t the best for my mental health, but what else am i supposed to do about it? “Go to the doctor”? and what then, genius? is prozac going to pay bills? will effexor boost my resumé with more work experience? does wellbutrin immunize against covid? does cymbalta allow me to meet with my therapist more than once every 6 weeks? is a daily dose of zoloft all i need to combat ptsd? does lexapro double as emdr, c/dbt, ect, or other professionally-led treatments? did me personally taking celexa remove any of the institutional barriers preventing me from connecting with my community, feeling included, being productive and valued and capable of actually participating in the world around me?

no. it made me hallucinate and unable to sleep for 56 hours.

#blathering

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y0ur-maj3sty · 2 years

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“Depression is a Choice”

When someone makes this statement, people often get the complete wrong idea of what is meant. People often say depression is a choice, not because a depressed person sits down and consciously choose to be this way, but because it’s not realized that a certain amount of ‘inner work’ needs to be done in order to get rid of this! Doing inner work to grow, whether it be depression, anxiety, or spiritual, is very difficult and can take years to rectify or control. What shouldn’t happen, is a depressed person going to a doctor and get some “miracle prescription” to “cure/treat” it(Prozac, Zoloft, etc.). This is NOT a disease or medical condition. Indeed once the human being learns how to control their thoughts, feelings, and emotions, illogical thinking becomes obsolete and disappears like rain in the sunshine. This can override the supposed ‘chemical imbalance’.. which isn’t proven to be the cause of bipolar depression.

In today’s society, the problem is that, nowhere in the Western world is there any public educational process, that helps us understand how to use the many different levels of mind and consciousness to control our lives and our evolution. Depending on where you are brought up and what kinds of schools you attend, you will probably be taught nothing more than how to read and write, and then be tossed into the working world to stand in line and fend for yourselves. This is MAJOR.

#depression #mental health #anxiety #spirituality #medicine

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bionic-beth · 1 year

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Has anyone ever told anyone lies to get them to hate you? I’m certain that’s happened before. Are you inside or outside right now? I’m in the living room. Do you think guys with just one ear pierced are cute? It doesn’t matter to me either way. Are you wearing socks right now? I am not. Do you like your cousins? I have two immediate cousins. One I love and one who estranged herself from my family. She’s from my father’s side of the family, so I can’t say that I blame her. Which mainstream artist pisses you off? None of them really piss me off. Do you own harem pants? I do not. Would you rather be called pretty or hot? I don’t like compliments. I never know how to react to them. Are there many gangsters or chavs at your school? I don’t go to school anymore. I’ve been out for years, actually. Describe the seat you're sitting on? It’s an L-shaped brown couch. The corner cushion. Do you have any weird bedtime rituals? I don’t find them to be weird. Have you ever sent any celeb fan mail? No, I don’t think so. I’m pretty sure I’d remember that. When did you last pull a muscle? How did you do it? I don’t even know how I do it half the time. Name the last shitty CD you bought. I haven’t bought a CD in years. Do you play online games? Not so much anymore. I used to be really into Neopets and shit like that, though. Have you ever chugged maple syrup? I don’t see why anyone would ever want to do something like that. Do you prefer original or acoustic versions better? Usually the originals - but not always. What was the last thing you ate? It was some ice cream before bed last night. What was the last thing you drank? It was iced tea. Have you ever gotten a serious injury at school? What happened? I was pushed down a flight of stairs in 7th grade. A kid made chicken noises at me, said “hey chicken, let’s see if you can fly” and shoved me. I flew. Are you on any medication at the moment? Zoloft for PTSD, anxiety, and OCD. Do you have a favorite pair of headphones or earbuds? Not one that’s my favorite, but I do have multiple pairs. How do you wear your hair for school? It’s usually just down. Have you ever performed in front of a large group? Not in a long time. Not since high school chorus days. Are you hungry right now? I am, I haven’t had breakfast yet. Have you ever fundraised? If so, what for? Not in years, when I was involved in the Girl Scouts. Do you ever go on the Bzoink forums? I do not. Is it day or night? It’s daytime - 8:35 AM to be exact. What was the last DVD you bought? The newest minion movie. Are the curtains in your bedroom open or closed? They’re always closed. Are you wearing earrings right now? I am not. Your least favourite type of piercing: The idea of a clit piercing makes me personally cringe, but you do you. LOL Which mode of transport do you use to get to school or work? Our vehicle. Call of Duty, Halo or Left 4 Dead? None of the above. Name a singer whose voice makes you swoon. None in particular. Do your pets follow you when you walk around the house? Yes. So do the children. Do you own a BB gun? If so, have you ever shot anyone with it? There are no BB guns in this household. Which hockey team do you go for, if any? The Sabres. Do you watch makeup tutorial videos on Youtube? No, I don’t. Have you read any magazines like Cosmo? I don’’t read Cosmo. What do you do online? I’m trying to get back into taking surveys. Bear with me here. Do you have any scars on your face? I do not. Have you ever won any competition or contest? No. Do you listen to Owl City? I love the Fireflies song. Do you own a lot of nail polishes? Yes, but it’s been a long ass time since I’ve painted my nails. What did you have for breakfast this morning? Nothing yet. My stomach is grumbling. Do you still have Easter egg hunts? Not in November, but yes - it’s still a yearly thing. Are you wearing shoes at this very moment? If so, describe them. I’m not wearing shoes right now. Do you know who deadmau5 is? I can’t say that I do.

#survey #random survey

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