#addiction recover

[constructbreakdown]

Hey Miss Dealer -- 1940's Jazz [original AI song]

[funstyle]

TUMBLR POLL do you do drugs or have sex or drink alcohol or do cigarettes or anything

yeah ⬜️ 10%

NO!!! ⬜️⬜️⬜️⬜️⬜️⬜️⬜️⬜️⬜️ 90%

93837593 votes

[neuroticboyfriend]

get in bitches, we're surviving rock bottom no matter how much further we dig. one day we'll put down the shovel and climb out of this for good. we have to. as long as we're still alive there is hope.

[nyckiodell]

[captmuldoon]

I don’t think I can emphasize enough just how much Elementary understood the core of Sherlock Holmes’ character, and the kind of cases and people he is drawn to, right from the very first episode.

The pilot opens with a wealthy woman’s murder. The prime suspect is a man who is a patient of the woman’s husband, a doctor, for help with his mental disorder. The man is desperately trying to avoid any triggers that may cause him to become violent, as he has been in the past. The doctor decides to use this man as a tool to kill his wife to collect her life insurance. He manipulates both his patient and his wife, alters the man’s medications, and ignores the man’s pleas for help, in order to set a scenario that is guaranteed to trigger the man’s violence - resulting in his wife’s death and later his patient’s.

When Sherlock pieces this together, he confronts the doctor, which leads to this:

And that’s what drives Sherlock to confront the doctor directly. There’s no smugness in being right, or for figuring out who the murderer was and how he did it. Sherlock realizes that this man’s patient was just another victim - someone who desperately wanted and sought help, only to be mistreated. Sherlock Holmes in this adaptation cares so deeply about people, especially those who are denied help when they need it most, and we learn all of this from the very first case.

[transjudas]

One of the hardest things about watching LOTMS is seeing Gerard in crisis and seeing those around him who love him doing their best to look out for him. And the past year we’ve gotten to see that same love and support while they seem to be doing so much better coping with things even through the pandemic. Because no matter how you’re coping, having friends by your side there for you is everything. (x, x)

[shortbreadly]

i can’t do this again.

[theawakenedalcoholic]

Hard Self Reflection

I feel like I’ve compartmentalized everything in my life for so long, that I don’t even know myself; how I feel about anything, how I cope with everything, how I treat other people and myself, what I actually deserve, and most importantly (at this time in my life) my character defects and assets. I haven’t acknowledged my defects because I knew there were so many and I was incapable of changing…

[mmagurro]

more wangxian kisses,,,only low quality art for now cuz school 👺

[quote-a-day-2022]

[blushweddinggowns]

Steddie Drunk Dialing Fluff

Steve Harrington-Munson was probably one of the happiest men to be alive in the modern era. He had the perfect life, against all odds. Because apparently having your late teens and early twenties ruined by demons equated to a fantastic adulthood.

He had it all. A loving family, the best friend/surrogate sister he could ever ask for, and he was married to the love of his life. And okay, yes. That had included some extremely embarrassing revelations and internal meltdowns and... a pretty brutal disownment. But he had figured it all out in the end. And here he was, a decade later with a ring on his finger and a nice hyphenated name. Not to mention how he was basically a trophy husband.

Eddie hadn't wasted a moment of the last decade. A symptom of almost dying it would seem. He went for the GED, gathered the band back up, moved across the country to chase his dreams and play in every shitty dive bar he could until they were discovered. All while dragging Steve along for the ride.

As much as Steve had believed in him, neither of them had been prepared for his music career actually taking off. Especially not to the level it did. It was undeniable that his husband was an A-Lister, despite how universally hated he was by half the country. You don't get many out and proud metal front man who loved parading around his high school sweetheart at every social event he could. But Europe loved him, as did the entirety of gay, rebellious youths world wide.

It was so stupid. There Eddie was, painted as an insane freak who was fake-married. With tabloids running story after story about his secret children, his drug addiction, a wife from another country, anything that they could think of. All while Eddie spent every free moment at Steve's side, always opting for a night in with his baby when given the choice. And when he wasn't doing that, he was busy playing surrogate fun uncle to the kids, who were definitly not kids anymore. But that didn't stop them from all getting together for Dungeons and Dragons once a month, hundreds and hundreds of campaign hours on everyone's belts. And that was his life. Spending time with his family, forcing them on hikes and runs, volunteering, working occasionally to help Robin with her translating work, all while coming home to the sweetest thing that ever existed.

God, did Steve love that man. Reminiscing about the love of his life while he was on tour was not helping his fretful sleep. He just... really had given him everything. He loved him so much in fact that he was only slightly pissed when he was woken up at three a.m. from the phone ringing off the hook.

Steve reached for it blindly, still half-asleep when he mumbled, "Mm-Eds?"

"Steeeeeeeeeevie," Eddie's voice slurred back at him, "Baby booooy. How's my baby boy? I miss my baby boy."

Steve smiled despite himself, yawning into the phone. Eddie was lucky he was so cute, considering how the love of his life who could not remember what time zones were, "He misses you too. And he's a little tired right now babe. What's up?"

"Day drunk," Eddie sighed, "Guys, morning show, mimosas, hotel room to sleep it off. Missing you."

"You won't be missing me for long," Steve softly laughed. Though... hearing his voice was quite the reminder of how cold the bed suddenly felt, "Just... one more week. That's not too long right?"

"Too long!" Eddie groaned, dramatic, "I miss you now. Why can't I see you now? Wait-Can I see you now? Cause planes and trains and-"

"And no," Steve interrupted with a chuckle, "You'd only get me for a few hours before you'd have to leave again."

"Worth it," Eddie mumbled out, his voice a little muffled as he tumbled around in his hotel bed, "Want my baby."

The pathetic tilt to his voice was enough to make Steve's heart clench. God he was too precious. Suddenly a red-eye in the middle of the night for a two hour make-out session didn't sound like such a bad idea. But he could be the strong one for tonight, "You have me sweetheart. Want me to stay on until you fall asleep."

"Yes please," Eddie sighed, "Love your voice. It's so... nice. Like... audible perfume. Like poetry or something."

"Oh baby you are wasted," Steve said as he laid back down, nestling the phone to his ear, "Please tell me you drank some water before laying down?"

"... maybe?"

"Babe."

"I knoooow. Keep nagging me though. I missed that too."

"Is my bitching your bed time story?"

He could hear Eddie nodding, rusting against the fabric, "And it's the best. Keep going?"

Steve rolled his eyes, but he did what he was asked. Saying every silly little grievance he could think of. He whined about how cold it was in bed without him, how Eddie had promised to take out the trash before he left and forgot. Again. How he hated how quiet it was without him, how much he missed hearing his voice trailing in and out of every room.

And Eddie listened, mumbling out a few sleepy m'sorrys and I love yous along the way. Until all Steve could hear was the slow, steady sound of his breathing. But he didn't hang up. Not when that was one of his favorite sounds in the world. And the perfect thing to fall asleep to.

Steve smiled to himself as he closed his eyes, a little amazed that Eddie could still make him feel so loved, from hundreds of miles away.

But one thing was for sure. He still had to be the happiest man on earth.

[bloodielavender]

me staring at my blades every time something goes even remotely wrong

[tin-can-iron-man]

I'm just gonna say it again real quick:

Yes!! Iron Man is a tragedy! It has and always has been since the very first appearance in 1963 which describes itself, Tony's life, and legacy, as such.

Tony causes most of his issues himself, he is his biggest villain, a majority of his rogues gallery are caricatures of the worst versions of himself brought to life (when they're not just being racist cuz...60s...). The worst thing about being Tony Stark is that he can't stop being Tony Stark (he tried!!) That is the point.

The majority of pain Tony goes through, is pain he inflicts on himself, whether intentionally or inadvertently. That is the point.

He is not A villain (at least. Not usually. There are...some rough moments and arcs that are. Not great. As there is with any character as old as he is). But he is his own main antagonist.

[neuroticboyfriend]

if you're a recovering addict, i want you to know you're doing good.

you didn't use today? you're doing good. you used recently and you're still recovering? you're doing good. you sought support today? you're doing good. you practiced harm reduction? you're doing good. you want to relapse and haven't? you're doing good. you're getting involved, even if others are doing more? you're doing good. you're resting today? you're doing good. you're alive? you're doing good.

this shit takes time. you have spent a considerable amount of time doing harmful things to yourself, or others. you're not going to change overnight. all you can reasonably do is get through the day, adding as much good to your life/the lives of others as you can. it doesn't matter what happened yesterday, or what's going to happen tomorrow.

all you have is this moment, and if you're on the path of recovery... you're doing good. this is your story. not someone else's. not some idealized version of yourself. it's yours, just as you exist, right now. that's all you have, and all you need.

keep going. you got this. i'm glad you're here (and so is everyone else who interacted with this post).

[ovaruling]

maybe a hot take but please don’t have or stop having children if you have an active eating disorder/body dysmorphia (including binge eating, not just restrictive disorders). seriously

thinking you’ll be the exception (because you’re So self-aware, unlike those Other disordered women) and won’t give your dysmorphia/eating disorder to your child is pride before a very slow and terrible fall

it never ever works. you’re never ever immune. i mean, such a huge reason of why there are so many of us now is bc our moms thought the same thing lmfao. didn’t matter how well-intentioned they were. no matter how much they tried to separate Their Problems from Ours. here we fucking are

i know it’s not women’s fault to begin with, but the reality is that those of us affected do incubate, nurture, and pass on the virus in the Current Way of Things

the buck needs to stop here. this isn’t a game. think of all the things your mother probably thought she was expertly hiding from you that you still picked up on and were profoundly affected by in a terrible and formative way. it will happen to you, too. don’t think it won’t.

if you know that you’re not solidly and confidently recovered, you have a responsibility to stop that buck and not actively attempt to create a child who will observe, mimic, internalize, adopt, and inherit your lifelong life-ruining behavior. the selfishness is breathtaking honestly

[dontmean2bepoliticalbut]