#I'm just really reliving the day and a lot of it was negative at my expense and I really hoped everyone would work to make it nice

[emometalhead]

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[whatsk-poppinhomies]

Pairing : Bangchan x F!Reader ft. Hongjoong TW : angst ; childbirth ; reader has to have a c-section ; very traumatic labor experience ; Chan turning point moment ; fluffy at the end ; Word Count : 4.9k Request : I'm sure that in my 98 requests there are some regarding this so I'm gonna say yes, it is a request A/N : Back on that good shit, HELLO!!!

It had been four months since you left, riding off into the sunset with Hongjoong, at least that’s the way that Chan looked at it. In reality, you sat in the passenger seat crying your eyes out in the parking lot of the McDonalds while Hongjoong worked tirelessly to console you to no avail. 

Four months since the last time you had even heard from Chan, too busy with work still to even realize what he had lost… At least that’s the way you looked at it. Back at home, he couldn’t even get his brain to focus on anything but you, the words you had said before he had pushed you away. Work always came first in his life, it had always been that way, but you had needed his attention too, more then than ever before. He had screwed up, and now he was too scared, too ashamed to even try to get in touch with you. The fear that you had finally moved on to someone who would treat you and the baby better, it ate away at him like a parasite and it was killing him to not know how you were doing, but he felt that he deserved it. 

Even Hongjoong, who felt that his acts of kindness were purely innocent, was filled with a sense of guilt, feeling like he was the reason for what was going on right now. No matter how much you told him that he wasn’t to blame, that you would never blame him for it, he couldn’t let himself get rid of the shame. It turned into you consoling him for the better part of two months, and when it seemed like he was finally getting better and coming to terms with that fact that this wasn’t his fault, he would run into Chan somewhere and those feelings would come rushing back full force. 

All in all, the last four months have been absolute hell for everyone involved, but no one really talked to one another anymore, so that only worsened the feelings that everyone had. You were lonely, trying to get through the remainder of your pregnancy without thinking too hard about the fact that you’d be a single mother basically, that the father of the little girl that you were carrying had angrily kicked you out and wouldn’t even call to check up on you. Chan was depressed, not knowing anything that was going on with his daughter, not even knowing if you had delivered the baby yet, not knowing how you were doing, and being away from the love of his life and the mother of his child was essentially destroying him. Even those that weren’t directly involved in what was going on, they were being affected too. Members of both groups had to deal with the negative moods of both men and no one knew what to do. 

It seemed like the four months would never end, each passing day felt more like deja vu, waking up and reliving those moments over and over again, wondering what could have been done differently, what could have been said to try to change the outcome. It was a never ending nightmare it felt, but no one could have guessed how bad the nightmare would get. 

You flipped the page on the calendar, the small box that read “due date” with little pink balloons surrounding it was fastly approaching now. For the first time, it felt like a new day, like you could finally breathe even though your daughter felt like she was kicking at your lungs constantly, you could take a deep breath. You were beginning to feel like maybe, just maybe, with the birth of your daughter, you’d be able to leave the door to your past behind you and start a new journey in life, a new chapter. 

“How are you feeling today?” Hongjoong asked, meeting you in the kitchen with the world's best/worst case of bedhead. You felt awful that he had demoted himself to sleeping on the living room couch just so you could comfortably sleep in his bed, but he had insisted, and he wouldn’t take no for an answer. “Is she ready to come out yet?” He smiled tiredly at your stomach which felt like it was about to burst any minute now, but your daughter had no plan on leaving yet. 

“I’m feeling good… It’s a good day today.” You murmured, giving him a genuine smile, something that you hadn’t done in a while. The sight of it had Hongjoongs eyes lighting up, and you were hoping that maybe he was feeling the same way. “She definitely isn’t ready though. I think she’s actually comfortable being all cramped up in here.” You joked, running your hand over your stomach, and you felt your daughter move beneath your skin, just slightly, but enough for it to feel like she was agreeing with you. 

“What if you’re overdue? What if she never leaves?” He teased, and you rolled your eyes at the questions. There was no way in hell that you’d let that happen. As much as you loved being pregnant with your daughter, your back and your legs were killing you, your stomach was covered in stretch marks that only seemed to be getting bigger and darker every single day, and you’d love to be able to go at least an hour and a half without having to run to the bathroom. 

“Don’t jinx me.” You huffed, running a hand through your hair before turning to the fridge and grabbing a drink. “I can’t believe I’m saying this, but I cannot wait to get my period again.” As if on queue, and maybe even being slightly insulted by your words, your daughter kicked quite hard, hard enough that it had you choking on and coughing out the water that you had just taken a sip of. 

“She mad at you.” Hongjoong continued to tease all while rubbing your back and intermittently asking you if you were okay, to which you nodded your head and told him you were. And it was the truth, you were okay. It seemed like forever since you were able to just be okay with everything that happened. Maybe it wasn’t that you were actually okay with it, more like you had just come to terms with the fact that you’d probably never hear from Chan again, that he’d never want anything to do with you. It hurt more than anything to come to that realization, to really let it settle in that the two of you were no more, but you also knew that holding onto a false sense of hope for that relationship to come back would only cause more damage to yourself emotionally. 

“You wanna go out for lunch or something?” You asked once you had finally got the air back into your lungs and the tears wiped from your eyes. The last time you had gone out for lunch with Hongjoong was when you were still living with Chan. It had been guilt keeping the both of you from doing something like that again, but you were turning over a new leaf, it was time for you to live your life and let go of the anchor that was holding you back, keeping you emotionally docked to a man that clearly didn’t want anything to do with you or his child. 

Hongjoongs eyes widened for only a second before he nodded his head. Maybe he was beginning to feel the same way. To him, it was clear that Chan wasn’t coming back, and the guilt that had previously kept him from doing anything even remotely close to the likes of dating was beginning to fade away. “Of course, anything you want.” He said, a smile creeping up onto his face as he said it. This was normal, or at least the new normal for you, and maybe in the process there would come new love along with the new life that you were bringing into the world. You could only hope that that was the case. 

“And then Wooyoung and San-” Hongjoong was continuing his story from across the table when you felt it. The sharp pain that you knew wasn’t a kick or a punch from your little girl. It had you momentarily blacking out and seeing stars as a sharp gasp replaced the scream that threatened to pour from your lips. “Y/N?” Your name rushed out of Hongjoongs mouth as he got up from his chair, so fast that it tipped back, but he was by your side before it had even hit the floor. 

The wetness that pooled between your legs was sign enough that not only was your body, but she was ready to come out. “Hospital…” You breathlessly said the word, your eyes prickling with tears as you looked up at Hongjoong, trying to remember all of the breathing exercises that you had learned in the lamaze class that he went to with you. It was harder than you thought when so much seemed to be happening at once, you could barely even focus on your breathing, let alone the breathing that someone else had taught you to do. 

“Right… Yeah… Of course… Oh shit.” Hongjoong stammered out the words, looking around the small restaurant in a state of panic, as if one of the unfortunate people who were now watching you would know what to do. It didn’t take long for a couple other women to come over and try to help you, some of them were on their phones already asking for an ambulance. “Thank you…” Hongjoong whispered to the women, thankful that he could now turn his attention solely back to you while you both waited for the ambulance. 

By the time the ambulance did come, there were so many people surrounding you and Hongjoong, trying to comfort you, console you, calm you, literally anything as the pains got worse and worse. Contractions, as you were told, were painful, and the only thing you could really do was try to breathe through them until they stopped. The only problem was that they came so frequently that you didn’t have time to catch your breath before another one had you doubling over and gripping onto Hongjoongs hand even tighter. 

It wasn’t just the contractions though, there was something else, something that you couldn’t even fully understand, but you just knew… Something was wrong. You could feel it, or moreso, you couldn’t feel anything. You thought that with the amount of contractions and everything that was going on that your daughter would be moving around just as frantically as everyone else in the room right now, but you couldn’t feel anything. “Please… hurry… There’s something wrong… Please…” Was all you managed to say to the paramedics as they helped get you out of your chair and onto a gurney. 

“Everything is alright.” One of the paramedics said, but they didn’t know, they weren’t you, they weren’t going through this right now. You hated how they tried to make everything seem okay when it wasn’t. You weren’t stupid, and you knew your body better than anyone else. There was something wrong, and they needed to get you to the hospital as fast as possible instead of trying to fill your head with false hope. “We’ll be there soon, just keep breathing.” As if you had any other choice… It was all you could do. Just breathe until you get to the hospital, and hope and pray that your feeling was wrong. 

The baby is in distress. We have to get her out quickly. Set up the room. Get her ready. 

Hongjoong stood off to the side watching as doctors and nurses circled around you like vultures. He couldn’t watch as they poked you and prodded at you like some kind of lab experiment, and the only thing he felt was anxiety at the pure chaos that seemed to be unfolding around him. Your eyes were bloodshot and puffy with tears and while he wanted to stand next to you and be there for you and hold your hand, every time he even got remotely close he’d be pushed back and replaced by another doctor that needed to check you over. 

“Call him…” You said loud enough for Hongjoong to hear, and while the doctors didn’t even pause to let you talk to him, he had heard you through the noise and the commotion. He knew what you meant, and he knew exactly who you were talking about. He wasn’t sure why you’d want him to be there, unless you truly thought that something bad was going to happen to yourself, the baby, or the both of you, but he knew that, out of respect for Chan, he had to do it. 

He nodded slowly, hesitant to step out of the room, but he knew that there wasn’t much that he could really do from inside the room either, and it’s not like he could make a phone call with all the noise, so he silently slipped out into the hallway and leaned against the wall. Would Chan even answer his phone? Even if he didn’t, it’s not like you’d be alone, and if something horrible did happen, that would be something that Chan would have to live with for the rest of his life. 

The ringing lasted for a good bit, or maybe it was just the fact that time didn’t seem relative in this situation and a second seemed to last for an hour for Hongjoong, but when the ringing finally came to a stop and he heard a soft sigh through the speaker on his phone, he knew that Chan had finally picked up. “Y/N is in labor… She wanted me to call you. It’s not… going well… She wants you here.” 

It was vague, but it got the point across. To be honest, Hongjoong didn’t have the slightest idea of what was truly going on back in the room, he heard the words, but he couldn’t fully comprehend them, they made no sense to him. “Is she okay? Is the baby okay?” Chan shakily asked, and while everything around Hongjoong seemed to be moving in slow motion, the sounds coming through his phone made it seem like Chan was in a world in double speed. 

“I don’t know… I don’t know anything. She just wants you here. She wanted me to call you. She’s scared, I’m scared… I’m sorry, hyung.” He whimpered, tear drops spilling over his lashes and trickling down his cheeks. “Please come fast… I think they’re moving her…” They were both crying, that much was obvious, the sound of choked off sobs only slightly muffled by the car engine that rumbled through the speaker. 

This felt a great deal like karma, although neither of the guys knew who it was coming after. Was it Hongjoong for unintentionally stealing away the family of another man, or was it Chan for being so oblivious to the blessings that he had been given that he let them be taken from him? Why would it go after you though? You and the innocent baby that didn’t know anything about what was going on around her? None of it made sense. 

Silence filled the call, neither men speaking, but soon that silence was interrupted by the door being pulled open and the commotion that Hongjoong had temporarily removed himself from now flooded into the hallway. “These are your scrubs, follow us.” A doctor hurriedly handed Hongjoong the blue suit and then turned their attention back to the hospital bed that was being wheeled out of the room. Nurses followed behind, carrying the IV bag that you were still attached to, but now there was an oxygen mask over your face, although it wasn’t connected to anything, not yet at least. “There isn’t much time, hurry.” The doctor said, looking back at Hongjoong who was in a state of shock seeing you like this. 

“What’s going on? I’m almost there… Hongjoong?” Chan finally spoke up, but there was nothing that Hongjoong could say. He still didn’t know what was going on, but now it felt like he was on limited time, and the last thing he wanted to do was be on the phone with Chan when he could be spending this time with you, or beside you… He should be there for you, and maybe Chan knew this, or maybe he just didn’t want you to go through this alone. “Go… I’ll get there soon… Don’t leave her…” 

Sitting in the waiting room was Chan who had run through the hospital doors like a bat out of hell, pushing through people just to get to the front desk only to be told that he couldn’t even go back and see you. He was left with so many questions and no answers, fears that clouded his mind and made the sound of the television right above his head seem like nothing more than a low drone that was everything but calming. 

There was no comfort found in the pristine white walls or the nose burning bleach smell from the overly sanitized floors. There was no solace felt when looking at the scenic paintings that hung along the walls. There was only a sense of looming dread that hung over him. To lose everything before he had even gotten it, to not even have had the chance to enjoy the time with you and his unborn daughter because he had so carelessly given it away just to chase his career.

“Sir…” Pulled from his thoughts by the low, almost mousy voice of the receptionist, he finally looked up at her. “You can go back now.” Was this a light at the end of the tunnel, or was it just the high beams of a car racing through only meant to give him some sense of false hope before he was crashed into? 

Every step was slow, giving him time to prepare himself for whatever it was that he’d walk in on. Would you be okay or had he lost you? Had he lost his daughter? Were you both gone? Was he only allowed to come in just to say goodbye? Wouldn’t that be sick? To be led into a room where everything that he truly loved lay lifeless and cold… He wouldn’t be able to handle that, he wasn’t even able to handle the thought of that. 

Hongjoong stood outside a door, his hair disheveled and his eyes reddened from crying. His cheeks and his nose looked raw, and his lips were chapped… But he was smiling. There was no sadness in his eyes, he wasn’t wearing the look of someone that he just witnessed something so horrifyingly devastating that Chan couldn’t even think of it. “They’re sleeping…” Hongjoong whispered, letting out an exasperated chuckle as he ran his hand through his hair for presumably the thousandth time today. “But they’re okay… They’re okay.” He repeated the words as if he himself needed the reassurance. 

“Wh-... What happened?” Chan stammered, still left with a whirlwind of questions, but did it even matter what had happened? As long as you and his daughter were alright, that’s all that was important to him. “Is the baby in there? Can I see her?” Hongjoong shook his head no, and for a moment Chan thought that he was saying that he couldn’t see his daughter, but Hongjoong quickly motioned down the hall with his head. 

“They have her in the nursery right now… They still want to check her over, make sure that there’s no issues. I… I wish I could tell you what all happened but… I couldn’t even ask questions and… I was so scared. I think it’s a good thing you didn’t make it in time to see it… I never want to see something like that ever again…” Hongjoong rambled, his head shaking so fast like he was trying to rid his mind of whatever images now plagued it. How bad had it been? 

“Can I go in the room?” Chan asked, and Hongjoong paused, looking between Chan and the door before nodding his head. “Thank you… Thank you for taking care of her, and being there for her… And giving her everything that I failed to give.” Chan murmured, his hand freezing on the doorknob, eyes welling up with tears as he dropped his head. “You’re a better man than I am… And she deserves better… So does my daughter…” 

He didn’t give Hongjoong time to respond, he wanted to get in the room and see you, make sure you were okay, and then go see his daughter to make sure she was okay as well before heading back home. He didn’t intend on staying, not because he didn’t want to, but he was sure that you wouldn’t truly want him around now that the nightmare was over. He had hurt you and pushed you away, he didn’t even feel like he should be there. 

“Hey…” Your voice was soft, not intentionally, but you were groggy and tired, as he expected you to be after going through this. “You finally made it… Took long enough.” You scoffed, and Chan could only sigh. If only you knew the amount of accidents that he had dodged, the amount of tears he had shed just to get here, just to wait for the clearance to come into the room and see you. He would have argued it, but he found no point in fighting against you, not right now. “Did you get to see her yet?” You asked, and he shook his head, shoving his hands into his pockets as his top teeth sank down into his bottom lip. “Did I interrupt your work?” 

Were you truly questioning it or was it just a jab at the fact that he had chosen work over you and the baby in the beginning? He wasn’t sure considering your voice didn’t really give way to any emotion other than exhaustion. “No… You didn’t interrupt anything. I was at home.” He said softly, and it felt like he was walking on a thin layer of ice. Any wrong move and he’d fall through. “I’m sorry… I’m sorry I didn’t make it in time. I’m sorry that I wasn’t here.” 

“You’re a busy person… I understand that you can’t make it.” You said as nonchalantly as ever, as if you were just talking about the weather. “You should go see her before you have to go again. I’m not sure when your schedule will free up so… If you want me to send pictures of her to you I will…” You weren’t even looking at him, your eyes gazing far off into the distance, out the window of your little room. Was it because you’d get sad if you looked at him? Or would you just get really angry? How was it so easy for Hongjoong to juggle both his work and his life? Why was it so hard for Chan to do the same thing? Did he even have a chance to try to prove to you that he was sorry or had Hongjoong already made his way into the space in your heart that Chan thought was reserved for him? 

“I never stopped thinking about you… About the baby… I never stopped thinking about how much of an idiot I was for leaving you… For letting you leave.” Chan began, and he saw your tongue push against the inside of your cheek, something that you did when you were thinking just a little bit too hard. What were you thinking about? “And I know that right now isn’t the best time to be coming to you and telling you this. I should have come to you the day after you left… I shouldn’t have even let you walk out that door. But I love you, and I love our baby… And that dream that we created together… I still want that with you. I want to be with you, I want to have a family with you… I want so much for you to just be home again.” He shook his head, his eyes squeezed shut to try to hide the fact that he was getting teared up. “I want our home to be the home that you bring our daughter to when you both get discharged… But I know that I’m too late…” 

For the first time since he had walked into the room, you looked at him. Your head turned slowly to let your eyes, filled with confusion, fall upon him. “What do you mean you’re too late? I’m not dead, Chan. I had a c-section… and while it still feels sore and I know it’s gonna hurt like a bitch later… I’m still alive.” You said it as if that were the only thing he should be worried about, but he knew that Hongjoong was just outside the door, and maybe you were just trying to play dumb to protect Chans feelings, although he wasn’t sure why you’d do something like that considering the hell that he put you through. 

“I know that you and Hongjoong are together… You don’t have to hide it or pretend…” Chan mumbled, clicking his tongue against the roof of his mouth before letting out a loud, heavy sigh. “He’s better for you anyway. He was always there for you… He was there for the baby before she was even born… There’s no way that I can compete with him. I understand that he took my place… But I do love you, and… if it’s okay with him… I would like to still be in her life… I want to watch her… grow up… I want to be there for birthdays and holidays and-” 

“What the fuck are you on about?” You cut him off with the question, your eyebrows arched and your face had shock written across it. “Hongjoong and I aren’t together. Holy shit, Chan.” You let out a scoff that sounded more like you were trying to hold in your laughter. “Is that why you didn’t try to get in touch with me? Because you thought that he and I were… together?” You quizzed, and Chan mumbled out a sheepish yes in response. “So you’re telling me… We could have been together… through the better half of the last portion of my pregnancy… But we weren’t because you thought I started dating Hongjoong?” 

Chans hands flew to his face and his head fell back as he let out a loud groan. “Yes. Yes! I was stupid! I let my assumptions get the best of me and I missed out on the birth of my daughter because of that. Is that what you want to hear? I’m stupid!” His head shook before he let it drop down, his eyes lingering on the lines between the floor tiles. “Why didn’t you message me though? What was keeping you from reaching out… Not that it was your job to, considering what had happened… but… If you missed me and wanted me there for all of that… Why didn’t you text me or call me?” 

Now it was you who grew quiet, your hand that was free of the IV running through your hair as your eyes bore into him, and even though he wasn’t looking, he could feel the heat of your gaze from across the room. “Because you told me to leave… I thought you didn’t want anything to do with me anymore. I was devastated that you just let me walk out, and it made me feel like you wouldn’t care if I tried to get in contact with you anyway. I was pregnant, and I never felt so alone in my life, even with Hongjoong there to help me. All I wanted was you. But I was scared that you’d tell me to leave you alone and… I knew that I wouldn’t be able to handle that kind of rejection, not from you.” 

His heart sank at the revelation of how you truly felt, and he couldn’t believe how far it was from the truth. He still had one more question though, one that seemed to be burning brighter now that he knew how you felt. “Why did you call me today? Not that I’m mad about it but… what made you want to see me now?” 

The sudden sound of you sniffling filled the room, and you fumbled with the edge of your blankets as you took a few shaky breaths. “Because… I thought something was wrong… That something would go wrong and… Even if you hated me, I needed you here. I was scared that I would die… That she… You know… And I just needed you.” Your voice broke at the end and the sniffles turned to full sobs as your head dropped and your hair curtained your face. 

He ran over to your bedside, grabbing your hand, for the moment completely forgetting that he hadn’t been around at all, the only thing he wanted now was to be there for you, to show you that he loved you. “I’m here now… You’re okay, she’s okay… I don’t want you to think of those things anymore… okay?” He whispered, petting his fingers over your hair and tucking it behind your ears before tilting your head up to look at him. “I love you… And I’m sorry… I’m sorry for everything that I’ve put you through… But I want to be here now, if you’ll give me that chance. Just one more chance… Please…” 

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[hiiragi7]

hi there!! i've been reading some of the discussions you've had & many of them are super informative and some comforting to read from the perspective of someone who's questioning if they might be plural/have a CDD. i really appreciate ur blog & the views and experiences u share on it, it feels like a warm hug amidst The Horrors of Syscourse.

i've had something on my mind though. this is probably a silly question, but it's possible to have a CDD without (C)PTSD, right? admittedly i'm kind of just asking this for reassurance while i'm on my own discovery journey. like. i have experienced traumatic events and some of it is ongoing & i'm still living with the people responsible, but i don't think i fit the PTSD criteria due to not experiencing flashbacks or strong emotions related to the events—i usually just feel totally empty & detached from it. i still believe i've been negatively affected by the events hence considering them traumatic, but that doesn't include any kind of flashbacks.

i've been trying to look into it & find answers but i've seen a lot of conflating of having experienced trauma with having PTSD, so most of what i find is "can you be plural/have a CDD without trauma" discourse.

i think it'd be neat to see more conversations about this but free to ignore this ask if u don't want to answer it/if u don't feel equipped to! wishing u the best. have a great day!!

This is actually a very interesting question.

I've read a lot of medical literature on trauma, and each author in the field seems to define what qualifies as PTSD or PTSD symptoms differently, which also lines up with my own experiences with medical professionals in practice. In general, me simply being traumatized was enough for me to be given an automatic PTSD diagnosis, regardless of which therapist or psychiatrist I saw. Some professionals I saw were very specific with what they called what, others were a lot more loose with it.

I've seen a lot of differing definitions and academic debate over what qualifies as a flashback, dissociation, a posttraumatic symptom, and so on. That is to say, it can all be very vague.

For example, there are other forms of flashbacks that exist outside of the well-known ones; some people only relive traumatic events emotionally, or through repeated thought processes, or somatic pain. A lot aren't even aware these are flashbacks, because it's experienced as 'random' emotions or pain or spirals or some other response, and a lot have trouble figuring out what even triggers these responses.

Would these experiences fall under what we call flashbacks in PTSD? Well, it probably depends on who you ask. And, in practice, whether someone with these experiences gets diagnosed with PTSD or a mood disorder or a personality disorder or somatic pain syndrome depends on the medical professional evaluating them.

To further complicate it, a lot of people don't experience overt c/PTSD symptoms until they are no longer living in the traumatic situation, which, for people who develop cPTSD, means they may not show obvious symptoms until a very, very long time after the trauma started. I didn't start getting "classic" PTSD flashbacks and "waking up in a panic attack in the middle of the night" type nightmares about the trauma until I wasn't around the people who did it anymore. However, I have experienced many other trauma-related symptoms and heavy dissociation ever since I was very very little. Before I was diagnosed with PTSD in highschool, I was diagnosed with a lot of other things first.

There's also just the fact that, for whatever reason, people don't all develop the same symptoms in response to trauma. Some people with very complex trauma never experience classic PTSD symptoms. Some people are very dissociative and numb, or develop mood disorders, or obsessive-compulsive symptoms, or somatic symptoms, or eating disorders, or some combination of things. Some people never externally harm themselves or cope using substances while others develop addictions to these things.

In addition, some people's experiences with trauma don't fall under the PTSD criteria's definition of trauma, so even if other symptoms are present they don't "technically" fit criteria. And sometimes medical professionals use their own judgement and diagnose these people with PTSD anyway, and sometimes they don't.

Plenty of people diagnosed with other childhood trauma-based disorders besides CDDs also don't fit c/PTSD criteria or show many c/PTSD symptoms or receive a comorbid c/PTSD diagnosis for whatever reason. It's complicated and messy.

This is all to say, I've encountered medical professionals who treat PTSD as synonymous with "traumatized" and are very loose with what they call PTSD and I've also encountered medical professionals who are very strict about the criteria and are very insistent on only diagnosing people who fit that, and I've met a lot of professionals somewhere in the middle as well. I've also encountered plenty who would much rather focus on helping the symptoms than on what the diagnosis is or isn't, and who don't really like the way mental health diagnosis is structured in the first place.

So, to come back to your question... I don't think there really is an objective answer to it, though personally I'd just say "sure it's possible, and I wouldn't really worry about it much."

In the end, what I've found is that it doesn't actually really matter that much? Regardless of whether there is comorbid PTSD or whether there isn't (or whether it's delayed onset or etc), in the end what you're dealing with if you have a CDD is still trauma, and the treatment for that is more or less the same, regardless of what you call it. There might be differences in, say, approaches to medication specifically, or specific symptoms, but even that is often just throwing things at the wall and seeing what sticks. Honestly, in my experience, treatment mostly looks different based on symptoms and individual needs rather than diagnoses, really.

In general, I find that a lot of people dealing with trauma and mental illness tend to over-focus on diagnosis and getting it right and trying to figure out whether they "really" have something or whether they're mistaken or somehow faking or so on. I think that's an unhelpful approach to it; there's no objective way to confirm that sort of thing, and either way you still need ways to cope with your symptoms, and coping skills are useful regardless of diagnosis. Learning how to ground yourself is useful regardless of whether you "really" dissociate that bad, learning emotional regulation skills is useful regardless of whether you "really" have severe mood swings, learning calming techniques and self-care and how to be gentle with yourself are good things for everyone to learn, coping skills are not just for people with certain diagnoses. In fact, you don't even need a diagnosis of anything to do these things.

And with trauma, like... it's all just trauma processing in the end, really.

I'll even go as far to say that even if you don't have PTSD, books and resources for PTSD might still be useful to you if you have a CDD or another trauma-related disorder, since a lot of symptoms overlap with other disorders and especially with trauma the recommendations for what to do about it tend to be applicable to a lot of different situations outside of strictly PTSD.

I realize I rambled a long time just to say "well, it's complicated and depends on what we mean by PTSD, but also it's all trauma anyway" but I hope this was helpful still?

I'm also glad to hear what you said about my blog, it was very nice to read.

[batsylikeme]

so here’s my silly little rant/opinions on the new doctor who season

if what i say pisses you off just keep scrolling mary i don’t have the energy to deal with negativity rn

so firstly i don't wanna talk abt how the new doctor regenerated okay that made absolutely no sense to me. idk why even 10 came back as well like ig donna's story was left "untold" ….but so is every other companion’s?

and idk how they split??? i really don't understand how they can do that but it’s aliens so whatever.

im also not gonna go into the christmas episode or the baby episode i...dont wanna relive that.

so!! i love the doctor i think he’s so fun and hip and his style is amazing.

personally i think the fact that he doesn’t have a set outfit is bc he’s trying to figure out who he is, which is always so exciting as the viewer going on this journey with him.

and ruby is awesome as hell!! low key fuck you writers for not making her a lesbian ( i mean she has the eyebrow slit and everything you should be ashamed).

also cool background story i love that she's interesting and a mystery. plus when villains are like "who...are you" that's always so dope.

i think that the "family" of the different "gods" is really cheesy but GOD i loved jinx they did so fucking amazing their performance was everything. i want them to act in every show ever honestly.

with that being said.. that episode specifically wasn’t my favorite, it was a cool concept but idgaf abt the beetles so 😭

and in that episode when the doctor ran away and hid?? that was new to the doctor that we know and i was like “yeah let’s go we’re gonna watch his character develop!”

so you would think it would build up to some sort of solution bc the doctor is tryna figure out who he is and that's gnarly love it

….then they DIDNT?

they didn't do anything with that?!?? at least that i was able to notice?

okay but after the jinx episode the rest of the episodes were actually fierce!

the landmine one had some really cool dialogue moments especially with the bickering like love i'm obsessed. ruby was also really cool and i love how much she cares about the doctor and how she wasn’t scared. i think that says a lot about her character. not to mention i think having her so in awe of the planets was a really good choice bc that reaction is so human and i love it.

buttttt the other characters were like mad infuriating which may have been the point? and throughout the episode it was so tense and nerve racking but the end was so anticlimactic. i loved the idea, and i loved that the dad was able to save the day (even tho i wanted the doctor to save the day but whatever) but i wanted MORE. i wanted the doctor and ruby to go into town, or to see the government and face them and call them out on the war! the fact that it was in one area the entire episode was just not it, me no likey.

the ruby centered episode was AWESOME.

that one was so unsettling (in a good way) and it was sooooo cool to see her like basically save the world and then she dies but BOOM they're back when the episode first started. i loved it, so peak doctor who timey wimey stuff

even tho i'm still a little confused as to if the lady was ruby? but whatever i still really enjoyed it i honestly have no cons on this episode it displayed what kind of person she is perfectly.

next, the bridgerton episode was fun! love the gayness they even kissed and they flirted it was so fierce. and ugh ruby’s character just keeps getting better and better honestly shes so fun and it’s so easy to root for her.

…but… the dialogue wasn’t good in this episode….at all. especially having the aliens say the word ‘cosplay’ took me out of the fantasy completely

also side note but not really-

what always impressed me growing up watching doctor who was that even back in 2005 the alien makeup was always so FIERCE like cunty boots down house houston bc it's makeup centric!

it also allows talented people to show off their skills and add really personal features to the actors who are playing the aliens. but nowadays they rely on the cgi so much that it just doesn’t seem believable and honestly it doesn't look good anymore. like mentioned before with makeup you can use the actor’s features to your advantage which creates the perfect illusion.

makeup + a LITTLE bit of cgi is the way to go and i don't get a fuck if it's more expensive ur a fucking successful ass company you have the money now USE IT

the episode itself was good until the very end when rouge sacrificed himself and then the doctor was like "i move on that's what happens" like bruh

by having him say that, it honestly makes you think that all of the losses the doctor has endured is just moments of his past, and that he’s moved on

like no i want the doctor to be angry, to be motivated!!

and that's what i think this doctor lacked.

there was no motivation or drive for him, which is so fucking stupid bc the actor is amazing.

the episode that ended with the doctor experiencing racism for the first time…you can tell that the actor put his whole heart and soul into his performance (especially the scream). he was unleashing a whole new part of his doctor and it was absolutely perfect.

so why not use that to give the doctor more motivation, more anger? seeing the doctor not being able to move on, to be selfish at times bc that makes him feel human. which would make sense BC!! he has spent so much times with humans and earth is important to him.

moving on; one of the biggest things that made this season an issue was that they cried every. single. episode.

when you only get something every once and a while it makes that thing so much more precious. the doctor only cries like once a season, and when he does it's like actually thrilling bc you don't get that side of him a lot.

and usually it's with a lot of anger bc the doctor is angry!! we've been through how many seasons of the doctor suffering?? i mean the man literally blew up his own planet. he's been thru the ringer.

there are so many episodes of the doctor not having the best morals, of him letting the villain die bc of his own selfish intentions. he's not supposed to be a hero, and i think that’s also what makes the doctor so compelling.

another con was the dialogue. one of my biggest tv / movie turn offs is when they say what they’re doing. and not in the super impressive like monologue way but in the simple way of being like "i'm cooking" like mary yeah i see you doing that??

and this season used that a lot. and again NOT in the cool monologue saving the day way speaking of that, no cool monologues? none? nada?

the best part of doctor who is when the doctor goes against all odds and saves the day with that sexy smirk and has the coolest monologue with the kick ass music in the back and during it gives you goosebumps! it also allowed the actor to put forth a lot of emotion into their performance and allowed them to build who their doctor is.

despite all of that, i did really enjoy the episode with ruby growing old and the racism episode. the fact that they didn’t have to say it was perfect and i think was a really good choice bc it was a surprise factor, especially with the doctor’s reaction. when they brought in a random character to save the day and him be so unlike the rest of his race and then kill him is always gonna be classic trope, bc my sister and i were GAGGED. perfect, absolutely perfect.

however. the season finale can go fuck itself.

UNIT is so cheesy now, and it feels so unreal and silly which i think is stupid. they’ve had this facility for so long so the fact that it is unserious now is lame. it feels really fake whenever they're trying to be serious and sciency, which is not the way to go when ur a literal army based facility.

anyways back to the season finale-yeah it was cool to have a throwback especially with the fact it was “the one who waits” that was gnarly! however,,, when sutukh whatever his name was literally kills the entire universe…it didn't feel like it??? it happened so quickly it didn't have that shock value it was supposed to and i was actually confused.

i did love the throwback to the ruby episode so it made you feel like it was tying that together which is nice!! give them some recognition yay!!

now let’s talk abt the whole plot with Ruby’s birth mother.

the build up of her real mother i mean it's been every episode when they mentioned it. in the first part where they were in the time window, that was giving me the creeps! i loved that it was scary and confusing and i couldn’t wait to figure it out!

so when the birth mother of ruby, the woman that even the god of death was infatuated with, the woman that the doctor couldn't figure out, the woman that was stuck in some sort of time thingy…………..is just a regular woman? its just some teenager who got knocked up and gave away her kid? that's it?

i've been getting edged this entire fucking season just for this?

if you enjoyed that it was a regular person i get it! it’s a throwback to whenever the doctor made his speech about how no one is ever just unimportant, which i do love and appreciate.

the whole reason she's important is bc the unknown is the most powerful thing which honestly i agree. my biggest fears are always the unknown. so yes absolutely i get it….but….are you...are you kidding me?

and then ruby leaves? ruby is done traveling with the doctor? i just. ugh.

there was so much potential and i’m just so empty now.

yes it had its cool moments, but im honestly so heartbroken and disappointed with how it turned out like, some bitch on tumblr could have written this season better than this.

i really really really hope the next season is better, at this point it’s just the writing. so get it together writers!! Ncuti is a phenomenal actor he is so fun and his range is so raw and captivating. not to mention Ruby! i’m really sad she’s leaving so soon, she was really fun and complimented the doctor well.

i can’t wait to see what’s next, and honestly no matter what i’m gonna watch doctor who bc it’s so special to me <3

[pleas3pretendimnothere]

My mystery pain improved somewhat this month, so I was able to read four books! I'm still behind my 1-book-a-week goal, but whatever! I care more about my body feeling better. And it's too bad none of these books really stood out this month!

The Door In the Moon

By Catherine Fisher - This is the third book in Fisher's Obsidian Mirror series. The previous two books I enjoyed for their fast pacing and colorful characters. I did recommend adventure-enthusiasts read them! However, this third book may have changed my opinion somewhat...

This book feels like filler. By the end, I was asking, "Was an adventure in mid-revolution Paris really necessary?" It all felt a bit like pandering to the dramatic allure of this historical time period. The reader realizes the setting and thinks, "Uh-oh! How will our heroes get out of this one!" At least, I suppose that's what was the intended effect... It didn't pay off for me. Instead, the book shuffles things around in a way that should feel refreshing, but instead disappoints. Side characters whom I care very little for are reintroduced and made pivotal to the plot. Meanwhile, the series' most likeable characters are pushed into the background. This mix-up destroyed Fisher's usual intense pacing! And the big ending...well, it could have easily been the ending to the previous book. Why, why, why? What happened here!?

It's tough to be three books into a series and realize you've just read a worse book. You ask, "Do I still care?" And I think I do. The previous books were strong enough, so I will be finishing the series. I'll give my final verdict then!

Life After Life

By Kate Atkinson - A book opens with a woman assassinating Hitler. You, having freshly opened the scene in your mind, must decide: heroic, or campy? That question haunted my entire read.

The majority of Life is fantastic. Our protagonist Ursula Todd is reliving her own life over and over again. Each time she dies, she relives her life with new instincts, her own intuition linking her to the mistakes of her past failed lives. We as the readers see Ursula make mistakes, and then improve upon them in the next life. We see her at her lowest, and then at her highest. She makes decisions that have positive effects in some ways, and negative effects in others. Consequences riddle each small decision. Atkinson's ability to jump between lives, sometimes in ways that can be quite confusing to the reader, brings a huge amount of fun to this read. The reader constantly asks, "What will she do different? Will her life be better or worse? Do any of her decisions actually matter at all?"

And then you remember she is somehow going to kill Hitler. Huh???

Ultimately, Atkinson made it make sense. I too would kill Hitler if I realized he was the source of all despair in all my multitude of lives! Most importantly, this is emotional, thought-provoking literature. I often found myself reflecting on my own life and the decisions I make every day, how the smallest things might affect me years down the line. And then, I wonder if any of it really matters, or if it will all just end up undone.

I really enjoyed this read, but it is quite long, and the Hitler stuff comes off as quite distracting in this year of 2024. Still, I'd highly recommend you RENT IT!

Akata Witch

By Nnedi Okorafor - A thirteen-year-old American, albino girl of Nigerian parents returns to Nigeria, where she discovers she is part of a secret society of magic-users that spans the globe. It's giving Harry Potter and Percy Jackson, folks. It's a lot of fun.

Okorafor has written a children's novel that brings the readers into the world of African magic. It's tantalizing, it's magical, it's whimsical, and, in a wonderful Riordan-esque way, still quite serious! There are stakes and risk, and our adorable cast of characters must navigate huge responsibilities suddenly placed on their shoulders. And the story, the world, always, always, it's strange, and it's fun! I had a blast reading this.

Not a lot to say about Witch, but it's a delightful, quick and easy read. If you're looking for something light and refreshing like Rick Riordan, definitely RENT IT!

God Emperor of Dune

By Frank Herbert - And now for something completely different. The brilliant new Dune film inspired my return to the books, all of which I'd gobbled up. Dune was incredibly detailed and wise. Dune Messiah was a reflective finale to its predecessor. Children of Dune brought us back into the weird intrigue and horror of Arrakis. And God Emperor...um. Don't read this book....

Wow. This book was bad. I didn't think it possible, but hoo boy! The people weren't kidding when they said "Just read the first three!" This book is a miserable, patronizing slog.

There is virtually no plot. The God Emperor Leto II spends 80% of the book taking guests into his chamber and philosophizing at them. Herbert's writing is astonishingly nuanced and intelligent--to a fault. There's so much nonsense wordplay, that at some point, you just stop trying to understand any of it. You lose interest. You ask, 300 pages in, "Wait, what the hell happened to Siona???" Then, when Duncan cries out in fear of two girls kissing, you ask, "Is Dune bad??"

And the philosophy! Good god, it's dated. Hope you enjoy sexism and homophobia in your worldly discussions! Just know I spent a lot of time laughing. (That's right! Male armies always tend towards homosexuality, which always leads to self-destruction! I so agree, Frank!!)

If you loved Dune like I did, you will not love this book. If you MUST read it, I'd advise a tailored reading experience, where all the pointless nonsense is skipped. That would be a good 70%. Otherwise, SKIP IT!

[wytfut]

Love lost?

To get going on this entry, I need to explain where I came from.

Not being derogatory toward girls, but I'm not sure that what they read here will be understood. Isn't this a guy thing?

Growing up middle income Nebraskan, with God fearing Methodists.

My parents came from what now would be perceived as extreme conservatism. No card playing. No dancing. No alcohol. Go to church twice a week. All of these "rules" were broken one way or the other occasionally by my parents, but it was their guide to being good people.

Pop, although I do show him here sometimes more negative than what makes a lot of folks comfortable.... Was a real life hero in my eyes. An invincible law enforcement officer with wide respect all over this end of the state.... even more.

Mom who I also tell tales that can be interpreted wrong, are also written here. She in her own rights created a world wide reputation within the blood bank, as a RN, and an active extrovert within the community.

They were good hard working folks, with a staunch background from Mid Nebraska, with lofty goals I tend to believe were accomplished.

The best I would ever hear out of their mouths was usually third person, and when they'd want to talk serious. As in "you know we love you very much..... right?".

Never the less... I loved them both very much .... as it should be.

,,,,,

I never saw or heard my folks say in public in person say they love each other. Never saw them hold hands. And growing up with this was the norm for me.

My interpretation I believe why this was so, was because of their up bringing. No public affection ..... There is no doubt they loved each other.

And I followed thru this mode with my growing up, includeding other luggage..... namely saying you love someone is extremely personal, plus with my young age, if said, could be an huge embarrassment within my peers, that no doubt touched trust to a point. It was HUGE to hold hands with any girl I'd be courting, let alone say "I love you".... it would take everything I could muster, to hold hands. I'd want to, but didn't know how, as silly as this seems.

Maintaining this line of thinking has made my life likely more difficult than needed, or even worth me writing it down. But so it goes, it is huge in my understanding of how things work.

.....

Patti (Toots), the love of my life, has heard me say "I love you", but most likely not near enough. And I regret it.

Growing up the way I did, I had to fit the proper appearance.... that's the way I saw it. "be a manly man" "do manly things" "don't cry" "is this how you want people to remember you".... these all have gotten me to this point in life, right or wrong, here I am.

Around 50 years old.... My oldest, in an emotional moment told me he loved me. I teared up immediately.... I had never been approached that way before, let alone by a family member. I tried to reply, but it just came out all garbled and choked. Still though it felt good....

It wore on me, and anytime my mind would go idle, I'd relive it. Sometimes like a punch in the gut, sometimes tears of exhilaration, and moments of confusion.

A few years later, I was writing an email to a long time high school buddy.... and finished off with a "I love you man". It was a good thing he knew me VERY WELL, otherwise it could have been one of those embarrassing moments. I'm still amazed to this day, that I blurted that out on a long distant email. I realize now, it made our friendship much more binding..... REAL...

As time marched on, I was still very apprehensive about saying such a thing to anyone, but on rare occasion I could get it spit out with my family. It is a long road.....

Sometimes via text, and rarely but it was done in person.... Did I really say that?

Its still very difficult for me to say. Its extremely real in my opinion, reserved for exceptional moments.

..........

I feel I have a huge network of close friends. Not sure if they feel that way also, but believe it is so. It would be very difficult to rate them to, "who is my best friend". I can't do it. It'd be like trying to say which is your favorite child. I can't do that either. I'd guess I have in reality about 10 best friends (actually maybe a much bigger number). All of these people I can count on, even if I don't see/communicate with them for great lengths of time, and me vice versa.

People who I can depend on. The old quote from me to my boys: "a best friend is the guy that will get out of bed at 2 in the morning, because you are stuck in the snow,". A person can change this to apply to many things many ways.

..........

From my life experiences, it seems we all hide behind some sort of imposing public image. Some folks can let it down easily, some cannot. Knowing my close friends, it seems easy to understand who can, who cannot. But its all understood, with no regrets towards any of them. Hey folks we are just people trying to get along...

...........

A clever man last night threw out a "I love you" last night on the phone, but said in a reflective way, that guys do, but with underlying other meanings. My radar popped.

It wasn't because I don't love this guy (I truly do), but he threw this out there, and laughed, and I too nervously laughed.

By nature, in normal conversation.... well I saw it as breaking the guy code. In reality, it didn't. We are very close.... almost cosmic brothers. But it was unexpected. And it affected me enough that I had to write this.

..........

And there it is... I'm a bit neurotic. Think too much about petty things.

Gotta admit, I love a lot of people....

[kazoosandfannypacks]

for this ask game: bed and gemstones

ooohhhhhhh, okay!

🛏️ BED: What do your OCs dream about?

Most of their dreams probably have to do with the water, some in more positive ways, and some in more negative. I also think some of them can't remember their dreams, and some of them relive a lot of trauma in their dreams (especially Verity post book 1.)

💎 GEMSTONES: Share a line in your writing that you really love!

ahhhhh uhhhhhhhhhh just one line? or would y'all object to the entirety of Maristella and Adrian's first waltz?

 "Miss Arrington?" He finally spoke up.

 "Yes?"

 He held his hand out to her. "May I have this dance?"

 "Just this one?" was what she thought, but what she said was, "of course."

 She took his hand and rested her other hand on his shoulder as he placed his other hand on her side. It was exactly what she and Casper had just done, but this time it seemed deeper. His hand fit hers perfectly, and warmed as she took it, his touch was softer, but stronger, and she felt something inside, almost like theirs were two souls tied together. It wasn't the first time she'd liked a man so deeply, but never this suddenly.

 "It's not a wonder," Maristella thought, looking up into his eyes before he averted his gaze, "that I'm drawn to eyes as blue as the Viorel Sea, arms as strong as the waves that move galleons, and smile as refreshing as the southwestern breeze."

 To fall for him would be as easy as falling for the sea, on a day when the winds were fair, and the sun shone on your face, and the waters so deep and clear it was a battle with yourself not to jump headfirst to them. Loving him would be like loving the sea.

 And Maristella had always loved the sea.

{more below the cut}

 "It seems you're the better dancer of the Alyward brothers," Maristella said.

 "Am I?"

 "Well, you've definitely stepped on my toes a lot less." "There's a first time for everything, I suppose," he laughed a little.

 "You mean you usually step on people's toes?"

 "I mean, yes," he said, "but what I mean to say is it's not common for me to best my brother at anything."

 "I'm sure that's not true."

 "He's the better of us. He's a better sailor and swordsman, and certainly a better man in general."

 "You sell yourself short," Maristella said, "and you're still a better dancer than most of the men I meet at these kinds of things."

 "Really?"

 "I've nothing to gain from lying to you."

 The music picked up its pace, and so did they as they followed its flow, caught in its stream.

 "Do you ever wonder," Maristella asked, "why women fancy balls more than garden parties or feasts?"

 "Not often," Adrian asked, "but I take it you have a theory."

 "I've been formulating it a while," Maristella said, "almost longer than I've been attending any of them. Mother would always talk about how splendid each season's balls were, almost preparing me for the day I was old enough to participate. I never saw the appeal, personally, until I started dancing. You can learn a lot about a man by dancing with him."

 "Like what?" He spun her out the way a child twirls a delicate rose between her fingertips.

 "For starters, the way they carry themselves," Maristella said, as she twirled back to him, "a lot of the stiffs are, well, just that. Stiff, rigid, choppy- there's no heart in their motions; they just do them."

 She paused for a moment to note to herself how much Adrian's heart seemed to flow through his motions, especially as he twirled her again, then pulled her back to himself, closer than before.

 "Then, there's the flirts," she continued, "the ones who think they own the world. They seem graceful enough, but always with their heads held high," and Maristella's head was not held high. She was looking at the ground, almost ashamed, because these weren't lessons she'd learned in classes, but lessons learned through fire— through having been burned before.

 "They don't look at their partner," she shook her head, "they look at everyone else watching them with their partner. She's more of an accessory, a monument- not a person."

 She was pleasantly surprised to look up and see Adrian looking at her, almost expectantly, hanging onto her every word— like he truly cared what she had to say.

 "What did you gather about my brother?" Adrian asked.

 "He stepped on each of my toes, individually, at least twice," Maristella said, "and apologized profusely every time. He's both humble and genuine."

 "Is this 'genuineness' a good thing?"

 "Is the sun on your face a good thing after a storm at sea?"

 He smiled a little at her rhetorical question.

 "And in this last moment's waltz," Adrian asked, "what did you happen to gather about me?"

 Maristella smiled at his attempt to fish for a compliment.

 "I haven't decided yet." 

 "Well," he said, "I know what I've learned about you."

 "Oh?" Maristella asked, "and what's that?"

"That everything I thought when I first laid eyes on you was right," Adrian smiled, lips parted, and leaned closer to her, with a playful sincerity in his eyes, and continued with a lower voice, "that I'd never behold a more graceful and charming woman, and any man who'd dance with her tonight should count himself among the luckiest on the planet."

 "You gathered all that on first glance?" Maristella asked, hoping to feign propriety to hide the true effect his words had on her.

 "Most of it," Adrian said, "but all the glances after that have confirmed it- as all the glances henceforth will as well."

 She was glad that he twirled her again, because it gave her a chance to hide her face from him, so she wouldn't notice how her cheeks flushed and her breath caught itself in her throat. When she spun back, closer to him, she tried to maintain her formal composure, even as he held her even closer than before.

 She would've gone on with him for the rest of the evening, but, as soon as it all began, the song ended, the final notes climbing and chasing each other, until their sudden stop.

 "It was an honor to be one of the lucky ones tonight, Miss Arrington," Adrian whispered, giving her hand another kiss.

thanks for the ask!

[stevesbipanic]

I just read Steve's time loop and screw you. It's 8 am and I'm sobbing!

Oh it was so so good. I kept waiting for it to end so negatively. Waiting for it all to go bad. Didn't even see Vecna coming! Oh it was so perfect. Almost wish I had a time loop to relive it for the first time. I just needed you to know how great it is. And how much your writing is capable of affecting people. Maybe I should have just commented this but it felt more personal this way. Gosh I wish I could hug you right now. How did you think of all the scenarios? Did you cry writing this? Do you feel pleasure from my pain?

Oh this will be living in my head for a long time.

Omg thank you this has made my night 🥰 def feels like a big virtual hug.

I definitely did cry a little writing some scenes but as a predominantly angst writer I have a bit of a tolerance haha.

Honestly the whole fic came from randomly writing the Stobin loop where it's Robin saying she has a bad feeling about this and Steve's already seen her die so many times. After that it kinda just snowballed with more loops coming and eventually a timeline and plot grew. I wrote the whole thing in I think two days, was actually speed writing to get my thoughts onto paper for the end since I had a plane to catch that day.

I do get a little pleasure from seeing people scream and cry bout my fics, just cause I love to know ice really moved someone with my work. I've said the before but growing up a lot of my creative writing was criticised for being boring or unoriginal so I love the response it gets now.

Once again Ty for this comment I'm so glad you enjoyed it even if it hurt a bit along the way ❤️

[kimstaana]

time is a monopoly : memory is a software

"moments later, i was all alone on a highway on pre-new year’s day thinking about what happened and hoping that that was one of those times we both lived in a state of self-regulating amnesia so that we can just forget."

does anybody feel the growing urge to take a trip down memory lane when the new year's approaching? the sudden feeling of going over how you spent the past 365 days of your life? and having void when you sense that you haven’t really taken enough time to fathom your recent memories or at least, grow past them? then, in an instant, you’re taken aback by how far you’re from moving on.

and does anybody ease the intensifying feeling by decluttering? by trying to fill the void in the act of both dumping and hoarding inanimate objects, may it be physical or digital? it can be old photos taken randomly in your memory card, expired negative film rolls you still used but didn’t bother to process, self-burned cds filled with illegally downloaded music and pirated films, hand-written letters from people you no longer talk to anymore, cake boards from your past birthdays, memorable and extremely tiring bus tickets, movie stubs from theaters you almost slept to, cringy high school slam book, and even failing grade school report cards.

i don’t know what got me into this high-functioning yet self-deprecating interest but truth be told, i’m a sentimental hoarder with ironic interest in decluttering. is it the self-reflecting facet? is it the fact that it brushes off the yearning? or is it because it reaffirms the need for a new start? i think it’s somewhere along those lines. i just know that there are times that i find comfort in decluttering anything lying around unused and projecting it as the better way to end the year—a restart to a clean slate.

the annual feeling clings to the overtly overused “new year, new me”, “new year, new beginning”, and “new year, new life” philosophy. surely, it’s about sentimentality but partly, it’s how it consoles the letting go and starts over the loop of life.

“you can't just throw out people the way you throw out things.”, protagonist jean says in nawapol thamrongrattanarit’s 2019 film, happy old year. it may come off as excessively dramatic but that’s how i ended 2021. not the usual decluttering, i was blunt and unfeeling as i throw out almost everything away, disregarding what they used to mean to me. i can reason that it’s because of the great isolation i was forced into that i began to pilot a general cleaning both literally and emotionally.

by the 1st of december last year, i was sorting every item that captured a moment in the past that hit pretty close to home. i knew my memory works as a self-defense mechanism, in its selectiveness, it archives my experiences that are most useful, regardless of them being good or bad that is why i made sure that i’d toss anything like it’s a done deal and that it will all be over if i throw things away already. but you know, sometimes, i feel like a lot of the things that i like to keep are from other people.

by the end of the month of the same year, hours between the 30th and 31st of december, i found myself declaring my love to my college best friend. it wasn’t rushed but it seemed totally abrupt. i’ve been thinking of confessing for the longest time but it was the admission of feelings that would outright stain the friendship that held me back. some people hold some memories dearer than others sometimes. i'm just like that and he's that memory for me. he is knotted to specific places that belong to the past even when it’s already been demolished. he is knotted to a specific time that belongs to the past even when it already happened. a still vivid memory that i’d keep. an intangible place that i’d go to. an irreversible time that i’d relive.

it was a long time coming, i told him i had feelings for him but i’m only doing it to let go of what feels like one-sided baggage i had to carry for a long time already. i don’t spill my guts to anyone and in his case, i felt like i already made it clear through my actions—he was my first confession and hopefully not the last. i told him not to say something or even react, he tried but i could tell he was overwhelmed and i was too devoid of departure.

that night felt like the longest night ever and it felt like we weren’t moving from the time and space that witnessed my confession. as we approach the terminal to call it a night, i didn’t let him come along with me like before, instead, i insisted to walk him up first so he’ll be the first to leave. moments later, i was all alone on a highway on pre-new year’s day thinking about what happened and hoping that that was one of those times we both lived in a state of self-regulating amnesia so that we can just forget.

the impermanence of things that used to remind me of him lets me translate what it means to “forget”—and why it isn’t bad if i still can’t get better while i’m at it. still, it’s not just about the bittersweet revelation that not everyone, even the closest people, can truly yield an ending they want, even if i pretend that that’s the case. it’s also the struggle with decluttering of relationships that we stored together in the things we shared.

sometimes, some things make me realize that moving on by decluttering is more than just throwing away things. it also means confronting the ghosts that come with it. from time to time, the mindless dumping reminds me to rue the day. to remember that a lifetime’s worth of very cluttered memories stands in the way and it’s not always about bypassing the painful parts—sometimes, moving forward requires a lot of attention and absorption.

it’s impossible to go full marie kondo or be out of our minds and just declutter things that don't spark joy anymore—to hurl things away without the slightest sign of hesitation but i felt like i did it that night. on the way home, i felt the inconsiderable regret of actually throwing something out, the heartbreaking reflection of something that cannot be changed. i know our own need to exonerate ourselves from feelings, regardless of the consequences for the other person, can sometimes ultimately be selfish especially when it’s all of a sudden—i’ll admit, my confession to him wasn’t for our friendship, but for my own closure.

oftentimes, i forget people and moments because there’s barely a physical totem to hold on but when sentimentality takes over, it becomes hard for me to let anything go, the least i can do is to remind myself that memories don’t live in things, it’s within me. everything that happened in the past had been recorded somewhere in my head already. after throwing some things, i’m going to remember what i’ve put into the trash bag one way or another anyway.

happy new year, friends!

[lovelibbyxoxo]

Today has been rough. I've been having nightmares for months, and it's really starting to weigh on me. I wake up throughout the night, desperate to escape them, only to fall right back into another one. I don't remember the context, but the emotions and feelings linger long after. I wake up almost every morning exhausted and drained before my day even begins. Sometimes I wake up crying...

To add to that, I had completely forgotten I had agreed to have a therapy session with an intern because she needed it for a grade. I was looking forward to it, but today was just not the day.

I'd tossed and turned all night, woken up from a nightmare 4 times, including the last one which got me out of bed, feeling terrified, hopeless, helpless, and just so damn sad. My heart was racing, anxiety on full alert, but I had no energy. I shuffled to the living room and sat on the couch, content to just be a lump until I felt human again. At least I wasn't alone. My fiance and roommate were in here with me. I was safe.

I was settled in, body, heart, and soul, prepared for our break, when my phone notified me I had 30 minutes until my Therapy appointment...

Well fuck me.

So I had to drag myself to the bathroom to try and look presentable, then set up the Zoom and wait. The intern was very nice, but I had to go through everything with my Mom's murder all over again. It was very emotional and took what little energy I had away. I'm glad I talked to her, she was very sweet and kind, and it's in no way saying anything bad about her. Therapy usually leaves me feeling a little lighter. My fiance pointed out that every time I have a session, I end up telling him that today was a good day. And it's true. It just hit me harder that I thought it would having to dredging it all up and reliving everything. I didn't have the emotional, mental, or physical capacity due to sleep deprivation. I had been hopeful, and lost.

The session ended. I smiled, waved, and thanked her and my therapist both. My smile and the connection ended at the same time. I feel hollow. Empty. A shell of a person. I know I'll be okay, eventually. I just hate feeling so numb. It'll take a bit to recoup. It would be faster if I could sleep, but I do the best with what I have.

Usually, I can smile through it. I know my negative vibes weigh down the mood of everyone else, so I do my best to smile through it all. "Me? Oh, no, I'm fine. Thank you for asking though!" I know I don't have to do this with my closest people, but I still do. I've done it for years so it's just like breathing to me. I've been treated as a burden for so long, I can't even be totally honest with those that actually care.

I'm working on it. I'm working on a lot of things, actually. Hence this collection of sorts. It might be a slow start, but once I'm able to get a computer, I'll be able to really get going. Thank you for following this nobody and listening to my stories. May you all be blessed.

Love, Libby XOXO

[lionheartslowstart]

Drama

-

Edit: My mother has pointed out to me that it isn't drama I'm addicted to, but rather, conflict. Still, conflict can lead to drama, especially when blown out of proportion, so I suppose the end result is the same.

-

Real growth can't happen if we're not honest with ourselves.

I talk a lot about learning self-awareness, and how important it is to always be growing, and to try and be a better version of yourself every day. If I'm going to talk the talk, I also better be walking the walk, right?

Well, just a few days ago, I realized something pretty embarrassing about myself.

I'm addicted to drama.

For those close to me, this did not come as a surprise. But for me, it was. I knew I enjoyed the occasional confrontation here and there, but "addicted?" That's a pretty strong word. Still, if I'm being honest with myself, there's a thrill I get from stirring the pot. And while I definitely wouldn't say I conjure conflict out of thin air for shits and gigs, I will definitely take the smallest slight, whether to me or a loved one, and just fucking run wild with it.

As challenging as it was for me to acknowledge this, recognizing your own toxic behaviors and coping mechanisms is so important if you want to keep improving. And I do. But awareness of the behaviors alone is not what leads to real and meaningful growth. Ultimately, you have to ask yourself WHY.

So I did, and I surprised myself because I knew the answer almost immediately.

I have so much pent up rage and pain from everything I've been through, and being petty, getting involved in meaningless conflicts, gives me an outlet to not only exercise my anger, but to weaponize it against people whom I believe to "deserve" it.

Moreover, I have this really irritating obsession with "winning." But not just "winning." Oh no, the other person or people have to KNOW I "won." Which of course is incredibly stupid. Why is it not enough for ME to know I "won?" Better yet, why do I have to "win" at all? Even if I know deep down that the real way to "win" is by just walking away, I still can't let it go. It has to be undeniable that I CRUSHED my enemy. That they got the verbal and/or emotional pummeling they deserved. They can't walk away with any impression that they got the best of me. Ever.

I view petty conflicts as a means of expressing all of my pent up anger, and then leaving those interactions feeling superior in some way. If you boil it down to the barest bones, I'm essentially reliving my life-long trauma, but I get to win every time. And it feels good. Which is not good.

The fact is, the only person I'm really hurting is myself. I'm giving bullies, losers, and instigators exactly what they want: a reaction, and attention. So am I even really "winning" at all? Like I said, I know the answer is to walk away. I do. But I can't bring myself to do it. I can't live with the idea that someone thinks they beat me, even if I know that they haven't. Like I said, THEY have to know that they haven't.

Worse still, I don't think this is something I'm ready to change. As I said, I'm only hurting myself by doing this. I never start things out of thin air, or for no reason. I only get involved with people who get involved with me first. But most of the time, these are silly things that I should probably just let roll off my back, or pathetic people I should just be laughing at. Instead, I fire back twice as hard and dig my heels in, even though that's usually exactly what the other person wants. As for my loved ones, while I do often get involved on their behalf, I have always respected when someone tells me not to. I would never want to disrespect my friends' requests or boundaries. So even though it's not great that I'm not ready to work on this yet, at least I'm the only one who is negatively affected by it.

Obviously, that's not the end goal. I want to want to work on this. I want to continue being the best version of myself I can be. But in the meantime, at least I now can see the toxic behavior and understand where it comes from and why I do it. As I continue to reflect and grow over time, I'm certain I will get to the place where I'm ready to address the issue head on and find healthier ways to deal with my feelings surrounding this specific pattern. That is how it has been for me with toxic coping mechanisms in the past. I discover them, I acknowledge them, I accept them, and then eventually, I'm ready to change them out for healthier, more productive coping mechanisms.

One of my best friends once told me that I always need to have the biggest dick in the room. Funny? Yes. True? Yes. Toxic? Definitely.

[mandos-mind-trick]

4,5,7,9,25,31, 34, 37, 38 👀

Aah okay so many

4. What’s a word that makes you go absolutely feral?

Like feral good or feral bad? Feral good, I mean...I don't think I really have one? I like a lot of words lol. Feral bad, it's definite "doesn't" because I somehow got the muscle memory to type it "doens't" and I literally have to fix it every time. Every damn time.

5. Do you have any writing superstitions? What are they and why are they 100% true?

I don't think I have any. I mean, I have to be in the right position, with a certain computer to write, but I don't think that counts.

7. What is your deepest joy about writing?

Oh boy, I'm gonna try to keep this short. Really, it's the expression. I'm not good at speaking or conveying things out loud successfully, but in writing that's a whole other story. It's a lot easier for me to write than to speak and I've always been that way. It's also a way to express things that I might not be comfortable speaking about, or things I may not want to necessarily relive out loud. I can write things like trauma or negative experiences in way that feels safe. Writing's always been an outlet for me and I remember the brief time when it wasn't and that really was a dark time there.

9. Do you believe in ghosts? This isn’t about writing I just wanna know

I don't know if I really truly believe in them. I jokingly blame things on them when weird things happen in our house, and I watch a lot of ghost hunting shows (mostly cause they're hilarious). I do believe in the possibility of there being ghosts, but until I see one, I guess you could count me as a skeptic?

25. What is a weird, hyper-specific detail you know about one of your characters that is completely irrelevant to the story?

Midnight is secretly afraid of one type of candy because she almost choked on one as a kid.

31. Write a short love letter to your readers.

I am so bad at stuff like this oh god. I've never written a love letter in my life.

Dear readers,

I hope your day is treating you well. I hope it's been easy and stress free and you've gotten to do something you love, even if it's something small. I just wanted to remind you that you mean so much to me. Every single one of you that takes the time to read one of my stories, those who like them, those who reblog, those who comment, every single one of you is so special to me. It brings me so much joy to see so many of you enjoying my writing and I can't thank you enough. I hope the rest of your day is kind to you, and don't forget to treat yourself with kindness.

(this was so bad omg just me the cheesiest person I know)

34. Thoughts on the Oxford comma, Go:

Absolutely necessary, 100% use it and think it's needed. It gives context to things that may otherwise be confusing without it. Like the old example of: "I love my dogs, pizza and baseball." Like how are we supposed to know if they're listing things they like, or they're listing the names of their dogs. Like yes, there could be other contextual clues, but still, the oxford comma is absolutely something that should be used.

37. If you were to be remembered only by the words you’ve put on the page, what would future historians think of you?

Damn she's got some issues. Lol, no, like I hope that my words live that long but they'd definitely think I had some deep rooted issues, and I'm also very horny.

38. What is something about your writing process YOU think is Really Weird? If you are comfortable, please share. If you’re not comfortable, what do you think cats say about us?

I mean, I did state above that I only write really well on a certain computer. Like, I hate writing on my desktop and I always struggle, but I can bust a chapter out in a couple hours on my laptop. Also, when I'm writing fic, like I have to have a picture of whatever character I'm writing of up on my screen. Like, I have two screens for my desktop and one of them is just pintrest open with Wolffe's face everywhere cause I have to be able to stare at him while I write like I'm gonna forget what he looks like or something. Literally can't write without it.

[dzpenumbra]

5/22/23

Alright, I just spent a good hour putting a watered-down coat of Mod Podge on the beads. The ink darkens a bit when the Mod Podge goes on, which is something I always forget for some reason. The yellow of the beads got a lot more vibrant, so I'm pretty happy with them.

Last night, I ended up taking a bath before bed. I slept through the night for the first time in a while, and got a full 8 hours. I feel so much better. The difference is always so dramatic, and I forget it when I'm chronically sleep deprived because of how subtly the sleep debt creeps up.

I am, however, super tired right now. It's really hot and humid - at least compared to the past week which was cold as shit. I could hear the frogs outside by the river croaking and chirping; it brought back a lot of memories of being back at my old place... standing out on the porch in the pitch black night (because there was no goddamn light ever put there for the whole 4 years I was there) smoking bowls and cigarettes and drinking cider and hanging out with my dog, full 180 chorus of frogs in front of me. Lots of memories from that. Making oil lanterns from used cooking oil and hemp wicks and sitting out on my porch until 5 AM, that's one that comes back a lot.

I'm very distracted right now, I keep drifting off into branching memories. All from that time period - Spring/Summer 2019. And some scattered memories from my last relationship. And I have the same response to both of them. A mixture of longing... and... man, I'm having trouble even putting my finger on the emotion. Kinda disgust, and kinda shame. So... given those clues... and what I learned in some mental health workshops I've been to... that mixed emotion is most likely the very beginnings of a trauma response. And rightfully so, those were some of the most prolonged traumatic times of my life.

I don't know if that's even true, honestly... but these times stick out very uniquely. And I'm guessing that's because those times contained a lot of memories that... I really wanted to keep, but struggle to. Things I was aspiring towards in life, things I would love to have in my life right now. Things I would love to think back on fondly and nostalgically. But they are drowned in the shadow of their association with proximal traumas. And that really upsets me.

That's a long term goal of mine that I've actually been having a lot of success with this year. Reclaiming memories from this reflex of avoiding the emotional shock of reliving traumatic shit. Like... listening to an album that you use to listen to with someone you loved before they did something very bad to you; and being able to reconnect with the good of that memory, and separate it from the bad. And given how strong my power of association is... good lord is that a task.

But Rome wasn't built in a day, these kinds of things are worked on piece by piece, inch by inch, slowly.

My next target for this, which I will try pretty soon, is to reclaim the album Matriarch by Veil of Maya. I was really starting to get into that album when I was supposed to move in with my ex... that is... she was supposed to move in with me when I moved to the house on the pond. And that synced up with being falsely diagnosed with epilepsy, and all the craziness that came with that. So... that was a really tough time for me, with some very vivid negative memories. But that album is one that I really enjoyed, and there are really good memories that come with that, too.

I'm trying right now to not get upset with myself. I feel like... I should be better at just accepting the bad things in life for what they are - or, in this case, were. Just... identifying and accepting those as being events that occurred, and learning from them. And, honestly, I have learned a ton from them. But it's still really unsettling, and it makes me avoid the past. Just because of the emotional factor, I guess. And probably because... I'm left alone with my thoughts? Yeah, I'm feeling like I'm close to something here. I think isolation is a factor with this. Yep. Because I have no problem talking about shit in therapy, or with people I trust and am close to --- okay, so... in therapy, then... XD --- But... I guess I just don't trust my brain when I'm alone in isolation for long periods of time.

And it wasn't always like this! This was definitely something I learned from first-hand experience. That, when left alone to process shit, and having no one to call or help talk me down or anything? With how... invasive? And persistent my brain can be? Like getting a jingle stuck in your head, that kinda persistent. Like... these fucking ads got that stupid fucking T-Pain Splash soda commercial jingle stuck in my fucking head, and out of nowhere my brain will just play a few notes of it in my head. Over and over and over, interrupting everything I'm doing. And often, that kinda thing happens when I reopen memories and shit, but with very visceral imagery... mind's-eye imaginative experiences.

How does being alone play into this? There are no distractions. You're on your own for distractions. The mind wanders, constantly. Having someone around... you can process, they can help occupy your focus, they can offer you perspective to help you reframe. You've got options. When you don't have that? It's all on you. And for me? It just turns into a grueling hours (sometimes days) long game of inner-thought Whack-A-Mole.

It feels so irrationally dramatic to be this averse to accepting memory and... I guess desensitizing myself to it. And... the reasoning, of course, would be because... I'm naturally very sensitive. Especially emotionally, but with other senses as well. Which makes this process much more experientially intense. (From what I've been told by my past therapists. I, of course, consider myself "normal" and had to be convinced that my level of sensitivity was... not exactly bog standard.) And... being emotionally sensitive in... well... I wanted to say today's society... but really... most societies period... it's pretty heavily stigmatized against. It's very clearly portrayed as weakness, especially in males. Which I always found ironic. Don't you think it's odd that emotions - one of the most uniquely human traits in the web of life - are considered by the majority of humans to be a sign of... failure? Or weakness? Like... I swear to god, most people I've encountered in life... if I gave them a description of the character traits of Siri they would probably consider them a more balanced and functional human than myself, and Siri is a fucking AI. There are a lot of fun little implications with that line of thought... but I ain't gonna unpack that shit tonight.

My sensitivity, my creativity, my unique experiences and lifestyle, they make me different, but they are what make me... me. I love what makes me different, I have to, because that's how I love myself. And I was reminded in my last therapy appointment just how different I am. It frustrates me to no end that I keep forgetting. It's such an isolating feeling, and it always has been.

But... that's what keeps me going. Like... if I was super different and I hated my experience of being different... I'd be in a much different mental position. But... I love my experience of life. It's really difficult sometimes, like how I meandered into this topic... the invasive emotional overwhelm, the lurking nightmare emotions, shit like that... but the other side of that coin is fucking magical. The other side of that coin is sitting in a car with my friends passed out in the back at 5AM, after driving through the night, looking out over the Atlantic Ocean at the sun coming up, and the feeling that comes with it. It's music bringing me into another state of being, that triggers multisensory experiences. It's an immersive, romantic, emotional experience of life. It's life with the gain turned up.

During the bad times, I envy those who are emotionally disconnected. During the good, I feel deeply sorry for them. And, overall, that balances out to a positive. And I dedicate myself to just... optimizing the odd configuration of traits I have... and make this weird life of mine... stable and healthy, and encourage its growth. Rather than try to rearrange my DNA to make me into a person that people want me to be, or society tells me I should be; but at my core, I am not.

And as weird as this life of mine is? I say... glancing over at the goat skull sitting on my work table... XD I really do love it. And I really would like nothing more than to share it with others. It's really been my primary goal since that time period I mentioned at the beginning of this entry - Spring/Summer 2019. And it's been consistently decimating to continue failing at that.

I'm actually starting to nod off. I have no idea how I got onto this, I've gone full ramble-mode. I didn't do much today. It was really just a recovery day... again... but I did squeeze in some bead work and I did yoga, which was nice. The plants are doing really well, the chili is growing very fast now, the bush cutting is somehow still going, I really didn't expect it but it's still green and hangin in there.

Yeah, my attention is completely wandering right now, I'm really struggling to focus on this. So... I'm gonna call it early tonight.

[gffa]

Honestly, the older I get, the more I understand the Jedi philosophy.

It’s like,as a teen- how can you just sit there and do nothing?! People are in trouble! And what the heck do you mean attachment, friends are important!!!

As a twentyish year old- okay, this is a sort of bad situation, but you still have to do something- and who the heck thinks having a former slave relive slavery for character building is a good thing?! (It was either a novel or a comic, I just noped right out because that was handled really badly by the author)

As a semi-mature adult- okay, emotions can really cloud your judgment, even the subjectively good ones. The philosophy the Jedi are based on is a good one, just a little bit different from what I’m used to, and the more I learn the better I understand the story! And a great part of me learning the story is thanks to your blog! So thank you for your efforts, they aren’t going to waste!

Of course, I still relapse on occasion, mostly when something hits me as wrong- the kadavo arc brought back my frustrations because the whole ‘exposure therapy’ or ‘flooding’ rarely works when it’s a controlled environment and the patient can tap out safely, because it’s more likely to re-traumatize a person and set back their recovery greatly. So having the council think it’s a great idea just kinda makes me 😡.

Again: Thank you so much for the information you provide!

It's interesting that I've talked to more than a few people who started out with the whole "the Jedi are a cult" and "the Jedi kind of brought this on themselves" and "they abused Anakin" train of thought and I'm one of them, too. I watched the movies when I was young, I didn't really have a lot of thoughts about them, Jedi good, Sith bad, etc. Then I got into fandom and saw people saying how the Jedi were really terrible and that was actually what you were supposed to understand when you really thought about it and I completely believed it. And then I got into rewatching the movies and watching TCW and reading Lucas interviews and waaaaait the Jedi don't actually seem that bad... well, they still needed to change, but... well, what were they supposed to do... wait, they're based on Buddhism, oh, that does change how I see them... wait, they're actually being really nice to Anakin in this scene and never took him to task unless he'd just fucked up real bad??... and, well, here I am. It's also true that, the older I get, the more I vibe with the Jedi's approach to emotions--you're not supposed to suppress them, but you need to be mindful of them, you need to let that shit go, because it will poison you otherwise. I was so, so angry when I was young. I was angry every day and the longer it went on, the more I would just seethe at people, the more I would wallow in the bad things happening to me, the more I would just be relentlessly negative. All of it was justified in any given example, but I was so fucking miserable. I was losing friends because they couldn't deal with it. I hated myself and everything. I realized I had to let go of my anger, no matter how justified it was. I still have things to be furious about today, in my personal life and in my online life and in the world around me, and there are days I handle it better than others. But every day I have to keep examining my feelings, acknowledging them, and not letting them consume me. Because that way only lies misery for me. So, the Jedi don't have to be perfect, literally nobody should be held to the standards of being perfect, nobody is 100% pure sunshine, because that's purity culture garbage. But they were genuinely trying, they were in shitty circumstances and not given correct info all the time, like, are we talking about Anakin going undercover with the Zygerrians? Because I think they trusted Anakin to tell them if he wasn't ready to do this, it wasn't meant to be exposure therapy, but that they believed he could handle it, that he might struggle with his anger about it, but if it was too traumatizing, he would say so. And he wasn't alone, Obi-Wan and Ahsoka were there to help him and keep an eye on him. It's not a perfect solution, nothing in the galaxy at that point in time was perfect, because there weren't really any good solutions. And my response isn't to try to browbeat you into agreeing or say that you're wrong, more to explain my view of things (since we're dealing with my inbox and all 😂) and why I sympathize with the position everyone was put in and why I don't think the Jedi were the worst ever or whatever. Sometimes we just disagree on things, interpret things differently, and as long as we're friendly to each other as real people (which you have been very sweet about in this message, thank you! I hope I can return it and my apologies if not), we'll be fine. And thank you for the reminder that, even if we disagree on some stuff, there are people who are fine just not seeing eye to eye and still understanding that the other person is kind and thoughtful and has their reasons, I really needed that today.

[sexualrevoluti0n]

Trigger & Content warning - suicidal ideation and plans (no specifics), depression, C-PTSD triggers, flashbacks mention of abuse (no specifics).

I've put a bold heading at the start and end of suicidal section. The rest is scattered throughout.

_____

So earlier this week I had a super triggering text conversation with someone that brought up a lot of trauma from past abuse. I recognised things were getting really heavy and told the person I needed to stop talking. I lost my speech, wasn't able to bring myself to eat, but I hoped it'd pass.

Had some planned computer games with friends and launched myself into that, but things just got worse and worse in my head until we finished.

I couldn't talk and realised I was stuck in emotional flashbacks and constantly replaying things but couldn't communicate any of that to my partner, so things were just getting worse and worse.

Suicidal talk starts here 👇

A few hours later I got to the point where I decided I didn't want to live anymore. That even if triggers don't happen as often anymore, I didn't want to exist to be constantly drawn back to awful times and reliving them. Didn't want to only be able to function if I never heard from or about those people or times. I'd made plans in my head and it felt like a weight had been lifted now that I didn't need to push myself to stay. I planned who I'd leave all my things to and looked into getting a will drawn up so nothing would go to my abusers. I felt so fucking hopeless and despairing and like there was literally nothing for me in this world anymore, so I might as well try and make things easier for people left behind.

Suicidal talk ends

My partner caught on, and we looked through a book of helpful things we could do to help given that it was nearly midnight. I wasn't really feeling much of anything but we decided to try the "bake a cake" suggestion. We made oven doughnuts and then sat and ate a bunch of them with tea. It was about half 1 when we went back to bed, and he took the next day off work to keep me safe.

I've spent time with friends this week and had so many lovely things happen but the depression just keeps clawing it's way back along with all the unhelpful thoughts anytime anything slightly negative happens because the trauma and survival methods have all been unearthed again. Today it was because I got overstimulated and lost my speech, and couldn't communicate what I wanted. My partner felt frustrated with himself and I immediately went to "I've made him feel bad, this is all my fault, I'm a burden and a terrible person" and all the thoughts from the other night came back with less intensity. All because he looked sad and frustrated that he couldn't understand.

Like, I had the Bad Day, I got through the triggering shit, I would like it to just go away now and stop coming back at the slightest provocation. It's been a week. I want to not be hypersensitive, hypervigilant, anxious and feel like I'm walking on eggshells when I know that shit is from my past and doesn't apply in this relationship. I hate that I have triggers, but the thing that's annoying me the most right now is that the brain stuff hangs around for so long after the actual flashbacks have ended and stops me being able to enjoy things. That it puts me back into survival mode from when I lived with abusers. I've done so much fucking therapy to get past this shit, and these things happen much less frequently, but it's still fucking there and stops me functioning, and it's like no time at all has past and I'm back to reading every little interaction as though it's meant to hurt me. I'm tired of feeling like this. I'm over this feeling now, I've had enough and would like it to fuck off.

I've spent time with lovely people, enjoyed myself, and then get home and a tiny thing will put me right back where I was before. I just want to be able to fucking live.

[catintheruemorgue]

Why I believe Edgar Allan Poe from Bungou Stray Dogs has PTSD.

I wrote this up real quick lol 

warnings: heavy topics discussed, small mention of sexual/physical abuse (in the first line only), trauma and ptsd symptoms.   

When people hear about Post Traumatic Stress Disorder their first thoughts are combat veterans or physical / sexual abuse victims. While those are the most prominent and well known it can also be caused by any type of traumatic incident, it really all depends on the person. The main one I'm going to be focusing on is humiliation.

Humiliation is traumatizing because it can be used to assert power over someone, stripping them of their confidence and honor. When I watched Bungou Stray dogs and read the manga Poe’s character stood out to me the most, maybe it was because I could relate with a lot of the feelings he shared and his erratic mood swings. As someone who's lived with a father and mother, both diagnosed, and was diagnosed myself, all the signs popped out. I believe humiliation led to Poe having ptsd.

Poe speaks about the day Ranpo beat him in the competition six years ago and says, “the humiliation of that day has been plaguing me all this time!” This man spent six years just thinking of the pain that Ranpo caused him, so much that he was prepared to get revenge and trap him in a book forever, yet claiming to find violence boring. Poe also goes through a lot of emotional dysregulation, he's laughing maniacally, cowering, confident, and desperate. Although Ranpo and Poe become “friends” after this chapter, the writer does sometimes fall back into his old ways like in chapter 45 when he shows slight excitement at the thought of Ranpo being defeated.

I believe Poe got his closure and is moving on and getting better as he makes friends and is able to show his worth more here are the signs he's shown:

reliving the experience through flashbacks, dreams or nightmares,

emotional dysregulation, this means it is difficult to control your emotions.

not even like two seconds later

also

problems relating to others/ problems in relationships

negative self-perception such as feeling worthless or defeated,

(muttering/ talking low(in this case) can = not wanting to be / believing you should be heard)

hyperarousal such as anger, panic, irritability or sleep issues,

hypervigilance such as feeling on constant alert. Or being overly sensory to stimulus such as smell and noise, and avoidance.

look how he holds himself in public.

It’s also said that Poe dislikes the chattering of crowds (sign of hypervigilance) which could be because he lacks trust and can’t tell what everyone’s saying. Could it be about him? He doesn’t know but it would be very overwhelming.

Anyways I could say a whole lot more but I feel like i’m just repeating myself at this point. Haha I didn’t bring up him in the Angels of Decay arc because I believe he’s really starting to come out of his shell and we are seeing a lot more of him as a character rather than just Ranpo’s rival. :)

This article is very interesting and informing!!!

https://www.ncbi.nlm.nih.gov/pmc/articles/PMC4560131

Do not use this analysis when talking about a romantic relationship with Ranpo, unless it’s exploring why it wouldn’t be healthy. I don’t mind the ship in general but not if you’re going to be using my analyzations. I’m not mean!! If you’d like to know why I dislike the ship feel free to ask me @poeshoe !