lemonpastasillies

[lemonpastasillies]

mental health help/advice needed!! [major cw for self-harm, blood, trauma, flashbacks, panic attacks, and domestic abuse]

For some context: I am a teenager and have autism, depression, ADHD, and anxiety. I was physically abused by my grandfather in 2019 and did not receive all the care I needed.

Last night was my fourth night on new antidepressants. I missed my usual 8pm time to take them and ended up taking them closer to 11pm. I am unsure if this had anything to do with it, but it feels important to mention. I was scrolling on my phone and got hit with an intense wave of sadness that wouldn’t go away. I think I heard a specific song to trigger it, but, again, I don’t know. It sent me into a bit of a spiral/panic in which I couldn’t stop thinking about what happened with my grandfather. It was flashes of memories from that night: my sister in the other room, him hitting me, his yelling, the next morning, the bed I lay in, etc.

I tried to ignore it or just breathe, but that task was becoming increasingly difficult. I am clean now, but during one particularly bad time when I cut myself, I covered my hands in the blood. I cannot explain why I did what I did; it felt like the thing I should’ve done in the moment. I only mention this to say, when I caught sight of my hands, it reminded me of the blood. It felt like there was actually blood covering them again, even though I could clearly see that they were clean. I didn’t feel the sensation of it on my hands, but some part of my brain was convinced they were dirty again. I stumbled to the sink and started scrubbing, but it did not help. I poured soap and mouthwash and water all over them to no avail. In my panic I saw a bottle of green hair dye and poured a bit on my hands, trying to combat the feeling with a positive familiar one, I suppose. Regardless, it made it worse. I ran to get rubbing alcohol and washed my hands with that and soap until they were mostly clean.

After that, I just sat on the bathroom floor and clutched my head. I stared at my hands, at the mirror, and at the sink, all of which made it worse. I eventually ended up sitting and staring at the wall, whispering "It's okay, it's okay, it's okay, nobody is here to hurt you." over and over until I reached some level of strength and calm to stand up and go to my bed. From there, I got control over my breathing and lay silently until I fell asleep.

For the whole time I felt like I was both choking on air and my screams. I remember my heart pounding and trying to force the air out, but it would get caught in my throat. I felt very heavy and panicked. I think I have had panic attacks before, but my memory is pretty much gone from the time that I would have remembered what it felt like to go through one. It didn’t feel much like an autistic meltdown or shutdown.

I have had bouts of constant thinking about the trauma, but never as severe as that. I feel my memories of it recently have been haunting me extra. I suppose my question is just, what the hell happened? If anyone has advice or could share if they had a similar experience, it would be appreciated.

It feels stupid to be so caught up on something from 2019 that wasn't even particularly severe :/

(Lady Macbeth jokes are ALSO appreciated. If I don't joke about it, I will go insane!) (I also feel this post is vague in some parts but it is hard to get all the words out, so I apologize.)

[lemonpastasillies]

I've seen people remark on how awkward the 1967 scene is and that is so frustrating because, for me, it is one of the most emotionally resonant flashbacks in the entire series. It is so multifaceted and ripe with implication and that assertion is baffling. As though just because this conversation appears to be hard for them, it must mean that there has to be some sense of weirdness or awkwardness between them?

This scene feeds heavily into my theory that 1941 ended in some sort of aborted romantic moment between the two, most likely initiated by Crowley. Aziraphale can barely stand to look at Crowley because the very first moment he looks him in the face, he can't stop himself from giving him this hooded eyes, barely contained look of longing.

The next thing we see is Aziraphale immediately launching into a statement about his fear for Crowley's existence that is as brutally sincere as it is heartrending. His eyes are wide, his voice is heavy with emotion, and it's clear that he is terrified beyond belief to lose Crowley. Even as he acquiesces and gives him the holy water, you can see that he wants to take it back and deny him it all over again.

Then, of course, Crowley asks if he can give him a lift, which is definitely something that they both know is a totally different question than what lies on the surface, given that they're mere feet from the bookshop and at first Crowley frowns so deeply that it's almost cartoonish but a moment after Aziraphale turns him down you get this glimpse of very real sadness:

Aziraphale sees it for what it is and in an attempt to comfort him, without being able to do what currently seems impossible to him, shares a fanciful but resigned fantasy about spending time together unbothered and unrestrained, all to the tune of these tight little, loving smiles:

When he asks again, you can just see Crowley's desperation for Aziraphale not to go. It's hard to say how long they'd been apart, but it's safe to say that for them, that previous interaction likely is very fresh in their minds.

Aziraphale has always been more fearful than Crowley when it comes to their feeling for each other. You could even potentially look at the holy water as a metaphor for their relationship. In his expressions of concern about The Arrangement, Aziraphale has always been remarking on how Crowley could be destroyed, similarly to his words here. So when he's telling him, "You go too fast for me, Crowley," what he's really saying is, "I'm terribly afraid and I'm not ready to take that step if it means that I could lose you." And it's plain to see by the wistful look on his face that it pains him greatly to say it:

The scene so quickly cuts to Crowley looking intensely at the holy water after Aziraphale has left the car (as if trying to convince you that that was the real point of the scene) that it's easy to miss this devastated expression on Crowley's face:

There's no look of perceived rejection on his face. Just a somber look of resignation. There are so many barriers in front of them, and I think that Crowley was willing to risk it but understood that Aziraphale wasn't ready to.

This is the most honest and laid bare we ever see these two be when it comes to their emotions. There's so much being said without being said and even their actual words (i.e. Crowley remembering exactly the amount of time when the 'fraternizing' conversation happened) are so full of emotion that it might even be a bit hard for some people to watch.

It's not awkward. It's just that the scene is just so incredibly earnest and heavy with coded language that it's easy to be swept up by the fact that the two aren't engaged in their typical banter and bickering. What we truly have here is an incredibly difficult and loving conversation between two people who are stuck in a seemingly impossible situation.