#anyway learning that i possibly have autism like a month and a half ago has changed my life

[sapphiclizziebennet]

me several years ago: hahaha i'm so self aware there's no way anything else could come up in terms of mental diagnoses!

my undiagnosed autism:

[echo-of-sounds]

i don’t know

Okay, I don’t know where else to put this, so you can ignore it if you want, but I just need to get some thoughts, feelings, and anxieties out before I breakdown because of them. This’ll probably get long. And I’ll probably cry from frustration while writing this.

Two summers ago, when I was 21, my therapist said it was a possibility that I had Asperger's, mainly because of the social and cognitive symptoms. I have a horrible time understanding abstract information. In school, I cold never do a project unless I had concrete details. I just couldn’t grasp what they were asking of me. Teachers would narrow it down a bit, but it never helped. I need a clear outline. I legitimately could not do it otherwise. I froze and panicked and ended up nearly failing projects because of the lack of concrete direction.

I have a hard time understanding, what should be, simple sentences. I ask people to reword what they said or explain it in more depth. Some do. Some get angry and accuse me of not paying proper attention. I completely am. But I genuinely cannot make sense of their words and feel left out because they refuse to repeat themselves. It’s so frustrating. I loose track of the conversation, stop contributing, then they get angry again because I’m not responding to them.

My memory pertaining to certain things, is beyond amazing. I can recite the seating arrangements from all of my high school class. That was five years ago. But outside of that, it’s terrible (I know ADHD plays a role in this too). I always focus on the smaller details even if they weren’t important. I focused so much on them, I failed to see the larger picture. This also impacted so much of my schoolwork.

When I talk, I have no inflection. My voice is low and I often mumble. So many people have gotten angry at me for it. Then when I try to speak louder, to the point I’m genuinely strain myself and feel like I’m yelling, they still say I’m too quite. So I give up talking.

I had to go to speech therapy when I was younger (around 5 and 6 years old) because I still had trouble learning how to speak. My mom said I wouldn’t properly pronounce anything, use words wrong, and ‘babble’ a lot.

I’m so fucking clumsy. I bruise myself regularly because I just run into everything, even though they’ve been in the same place for years. I hit my hands off of things, nearly run into walls, and kick things often. 

And my sensitivities are off the charts. It’s honestly ridiculous (I know ADHD also plays a role in this, but sometimes I feel like it’s much more than that). People tell me to stop being a picky eater when the smell of fish makes me want to vomit and feeling beans in my mouth is just plain wrong. The only smell I can tolerate is vanilla. Anything else and I want to cry. Clothing is horrible. I’m so rarely comfortable. And noises are the worst. My dad says it’s quite, but I can hear the Tv, the Tv in the other room, the sink running, that beeping, the AC going, someone clicking, the sizzling on the stove, and it’s all too much. 

When I was younger, I used to have temper tantrums. A lot. They were bad. I’d hit myself, scratch myself with pens, and bang my head off the floor. I barely remember them, but I do remember it being more than just a ‘temper tantrum.’ The world was just too much and I didn’t know how to handle it, so I had a meltdown.

The severe self-harm eventually stopped, but the meltdown’s still happen to this day. My mom tries to get me to talk about it so she can help. But I can’t even explain why it happened half the time. It just did. 

I’ve had so few close friends throughout my life. The ones I do make, don’t last. It’s hard for me to keep them as a friend. They don’t do anything wrong or bad. I just can never keep that connection. I barely interact with people. Even when they’re around, I just don’t talk. I abhor looking people in the eyes. It makes me uncomfortable and I don’t even know why! People get angry at me. They think I’m ignoring them when I’m not. I’m just not looking directly at them.

Communicating my feelings and expressing empathy is something I just cannot do. So I fake it. I feel worse about not feeling bad about someone’s trouble than I do actually feeling bad for them (I don’t know if that makes sense). I fake it so I don’t sound rude. I don’t want them to be angry at me.

I’d get in trouble at school when I did something ‘wrong,’ but I didn’t understand what I did wrong. I still don’t to some point. Teachers just told me I broke a rule and was in trouble. When I would ask why, they said I should be able to know that by myself. But I couldn’t. No matter how hard I thought about it.

I have a morning routine. I do it daily. If it ever gets interrupted, stopped, or I can’t complete it for whatever reason, my entire day is off. I try to continue normally, but I can’t focus. I just now my morning was messed up and I spend the rest of the day obsessing over it. It doesn’t go away until the next day when I can complete it properly. 

I’ve always had hyperfocuses. ADHD affects this. I know. Some come and go, like a certain video game will consume my life or I’m suddenly preoccupied with writing poems for a week. But those go away. All my life, I’ve loved reading and learning about dinosaurs/megafauna/evolution, plants, and psychology. They’re easy for me to learn about. I retain so much information without trying. I never had to study for my psych. exams. Never. And I always aced them. I just obsessed about the subject and they remained in my memory so well.

As for stimming, I’ve done a lot of different things throughout my life, but I was always told to stop, told they were annoying, or questioned about them. So I stopped doing each one because I was scared people would get angry with me. Because some have. 

I used to rub my fingers together. It kept my hands busy, but it also helped me focus and relieved some anxious energy. I didn’t know why. It just made me feel better. I’d be on the computer, using the mouse with my right hand, rubbing my fingers together with my left. My dad questioned why I did it. I didn’t have an answer so I did it less. I did it in school, while taking a test, and the teacher told me to stop because it was disruptive. I eventually stopped doing it all together because people would constantly make me feel bad for it.

I also used to babble. It was one of the reasons I was sent to speech therapy. Instead of helping me learn how to talk properly, because I did need help with that, the workers there just forced me to stop babbling/humming/repeating a word because it wasn’t proper behavior for the situation I was in. 

Though I don’t babble anymore, as that was basically forced out of my behavior, I still hum and repeat lines (whether from a Tv show or a book) to myself, sometimes for days at a time. I also move my head and neck around and twist my wrists while I’m focusing on something. Half the time, I don’t realize I’m doing it. It takes another person to point it out.

My therapists said it was a possibility that I had Asperger’s. My psychiatrist said she didn’t believe so because I was able to connect with her. She felt I didn’t ‘align’ with the social troubles. I can talk to her, share feelings, look her in the eye, smile ate jokes (though sometimes I fake smile- I see another person smile so I match it), and I don’t have trouble going off topic and rambling about specific subjects.

I said okay at the time. She’s a smart woman and I trust her. But ever since, it’s been on my mind. I’ve always felt different. I don’t mean that in like ‘I’m special’ kind of way. I mean it like, ‘There’s something wrong with me and I don’t understand what it is. I don’t understand why others can do X while that takes me longer/more effort to understand. I genuinely felt ostracized. But I just accepted it.’

I don’t know how to bring it up to my mom and/or dad. I know my mom will be supportive, but I’m scared about other people. My younger brother makes jokes about autism. My siblings, dad, and stepmom don’t do anything. It pisses me off to no end. I’ve yelled and sworn at him for what he says. But he keeps doing it. My other siblings say it’s just a joke and I need to relax, but I can’t. They aren’t jokes. They’re rude, ableist, and most of them are making fun of things I do. He, nor none of family, just don’t that because I keep them hidden.

And I don’t know how to bring it back up to my psychiatrist. I feel connected to many of the symptoms and like it explains so much of my life, especially when I was young, but I don’t know how to explain all my thoughts on the subject. When she asks me a question, I often freeze and undercut my own troubles and downplay it. I’ve been obsessing over this the past few months. It’s partly why my depression got bad for a time. I don’t know it I’m making a mountain out of a mole or if I should actually seek professional help to help me, especially since I’ve applied for disability benefits because my mental health has been so bad the past couple of years.

Anyway, I’m done my ranting. Thanks for listening if you did. And I’m open to advice. I’ve just felt so stuck recently and I feel like it’ll only get worse.

[wallwriterstuff]

Teeth || Demetri Volturi x Reader ||

A request from @volturidoll13 that is continued from this headcanon right here ——-> Demetri Reacting to a Stimming Reader <——-. I hope I’ve done you justice once more with this one chickadee :D </b>

Part 2: This fic

Part 3: Control (fic)

Warnings: TW for anxiety. Readers stimming will stem from anxiety, if you are having a rough time with yours right now be careful reading this one, and please know you’re not alone! I guess maybe a warning for biting to? There’s some biting going on.

Words: 2620

Summary: It’s been a little over two months since Demetri discovered your stimming. He’s remained vigilant ever since, keeping your anxiety at bay with a whole host of tips and tricks he’s learned over the course of your time together. The one thing he cannot stop is the march of time, and yours is running out fast…

You weren’t sure what had made you so nervous back then, why Demetri finding about your autism was such a big deal, why you were so afraid your stimming would be an issue between you both, that your anxiety and it’s side effects would somehow ruin his perception of you. In reality, telling Demetri the whole truth had been the best thing you had ever done. His sensitivity was astounding to you, because he really was diligent in checking in with you and keeping things as calm as possible in your now shared room – your baths had become a now weekly occurrence. He never treated you like you were made of porcelain either despite all his little interventions, no, he whole-heartedly encouraged your every attempt to explore and integrate yourself into the Volturi with your new found confidence, but when you needed the support he was always prepared.

Your newfound confidence came with a price.

After just a week of venturing out of your shared room you had been called to the throne room, a terrifying moment in itself given you had met them only once before to explain why you hadn’t been bleeding out with the rest of your tour group on the floor, and Aro had taken your hand with a sickly smile before joyfully exclaiming something in Italian you had had no idea how to go about translating. That was two months ago, and now you had only a single month left to live before you joined them in their immortality, perpetually frozen as you were, never moving forward, never evolving. The concept was terrifying given the stories you’d heard of newborns. You didn’t want to hurt people or be that volatile little newborn who became violent on a whim. You didn’t want to feel the inferno in your throat begging you to commit unspeakable acts of cruelty against a race you were currently still apart of.

A month left of mortality.

A month left before you became someone entirely new.

Felix’s sudden grunt snapped you out of that particular reverie, and you blinked at the bright sunlight invading your eyes despite the shade you had situated yourself in under a twisted old red maple, planted in Didyme’s honour oh so long ago and still going strong thanks to Aro’s tender loving care. They had chosen to sit beneath the branches simply because it made their skin sparkle less, which was far easier on your eyes and far less distracting since you had a tendency to try and rub off Demetri’s sparkles, like they were glitter on his skin you could just remove. Jane was smiling at your giant friend, whose teeth were clenched tight before he suddenly relaxed and shot her a glare.

“Now now children play nicely.” Demetri chided from beside you. He’d been sat a while, smoothly redirecting conversation from you when he saw your attention falter. You had been zoning in and out a lot the past few days, your mind clearly elsewhere. He’d kept half an eye on you as the twins debated a book they’d been reading the past week, Felix teasing them as was his usual manner until Jane caved to the temptation to cripple him with her trademarked glare. You clearly were not okay, but you hadn’t come to him to say as such just yet, so he’d not pressured you into talking. Perhaps after this afternoon he should? You usually jumped at any chance you got to spend time with them all, enjoying the social interaction after the long days you spent either studying Italian or with them absent performing duties you would soon help them undertake.

“What do you think Y/N? You said you’d read The Hunger Games before, what do you think of the idea that the death of Primrose is symbolic of the death of the last of Katniss’s innocence?” Alec questioned. The boy was equally as perceptive as Demetri, having found himself insatiably curious since the day Demetri had quietly spoken with them about it to ensure they didn’t harass you, and consequently had gone on to read everything he could get his hands on about your condition. It was painfully obvious to all of them your head wasn’t in the conversation but none of them brought it up, instead finding ways to lead you seamlessly back into the group when you wandered off. Your brows furrowed as you tried to think over Alec’s question, but your mind was pulled in too many directions at once. You were so focused on the dark thoughts swirling around your future immortality that your mind struggled to conjure the image of the book cover, never mind its contents.

“Erm…I don’t really…she lost it way before that.” You stumbled your way through the answer and it was audible to everyone there the way your teeth clanked together when your jaw clenched. You did your best not to flinch as Demetri cast you a concerned glance. You’d been doing that a lot, your teeth gnashing and grinding as you clenched your jaw over and over. It was a tic he had seen before, though not quite as frequently as this, and it set alarm bells ringing in his head as a thousand articles and memories hit him full force. Alec hummed, not looking entirely like he agreed with you while Jane grinned, triumph in her eyes.

“Ha! See brother, I told you!” she didn’t seemingly notice the way you flinched, teeth gnashing audibly once more at her exclamation. Alec’s face was immediately taken over by a scowl, and the pair were bickering once more while Felix watched on with obvious amusement. Demetri had given you his sole attention instead, tuning out their argument to instead take notice of the way the muscles in your jaw moved, your gaze distant and entirely unfocused as you lost yourself to your thoughts again. He didn’t actually think you were aware of the way your hand moved until he gently snatched it mid-air. You blinked, staring uncomprehendingly at the frozen fingers clasped around your wrist, centimetres from your open mouth that you quickly snapped closed. Demetri made no comment after that, sliding his hand up to intertwine your fingers together and squeeze your palm lightly.

You squeezed back with a weak smile, mentally already berating yourself for your behaviour. You hadn’t even noticed you were about to bite yourself but now you had you could feel the way your jaw ached, the entire lower part of your jaw tense from the amount your stimming had overworked it that afternoon. Demetri soothingly ran his thumb in circles over your knuckles but even his cool touch wasn’t enough to drag you from your misery today. You had less than a month to live and there was so much you wouldn’t get to do after that. You had always wanted to travel to try some of your favourite foods in their home contexts – you could only imagine how good authentic Chinese food would taste. You wanted to sleep in a five-star hotel just to see what a memory foam mattress might do to improve your sleep.

It was all trivial stuff (you were painfully aware since Caius had told you so when you’d brought it up) but they were simple things for your bucket list, you dared not even consider the big dreams you had because they would be impossible once you were-

“Ah ah ah.” Demetri caught your hand again. He still held one in his grip but the other had whipped up to make it’s way into your mouth. You completely disregarded his warning, a burning need inside of you driving your head forward in an effort to clamp your teeth around your finger, sure in the knowledge it would bring some relief if you could manage it. Demetri didn’t let you, and your head quickly turned for his hand instead. He didn’t comment when your teeth almost broke trying to break through his skin. You immediately recoiled, both horrified and mortified at what you had done, but despite the fact you wouldn’t meet his eyes, Demetri pulled you close to his chest and kissed the top of your head.

“I’m sorry, I-“

“What have I told you about apologising to me about this?” he tutted, lifting your chin with one of his index fingers. He quickly had to let go when your hand flashed up to your mouth again, desperate to chew down on something.

“To stop apologising. Sor-er…I…” you cringed, the apology ready to fall from your lips but your fear of disappointing him latching it’s claws into you and making you bite down on your tongue instead.

“You never need to apologise to me for this my love, I love every part of you, even the parts of you you struggle to love yourself.” Demetri assured you quietly. Your teeth began to grind once more because what if he didn’t see you that same way after your change? What if your crimson eyes and still heart were abhorrent to him since he revered your human-self so much?

“Can we go?” you mumbled, your head spinning with all the worrisome thoughts tumbling about it. Demetri searched your face briefly as he nodded, very well aware that this wasn’t something he could encourage you to keep fighting and you needed to tap out now and recover.

“Of course. Excuse us you three.” He glanced to them briefly, knowing they’d have heard your quiet conversation anyway so to lie would be pointless. You couldn’t bring yourself to look at them, too embarrassed by your stimming today to meet their eyes. You’d bitten your vampire mate in front of them, after all.

“Thank you.” You mumbled, keeping your head down as you walked along beside him. Demetri hadn’t let go of one of your hands, squeezing gently every now and then to try and encourage you to channel your anxiety into your hand instead of your mouth. Perhaps he ought to buy you a stressball? You’d liked the last one, though it had disappeared somewhere around the castle and sadly, his gift only worked on people and not tracking down inanimate objects.  

“Don’t thank me yet, might I give you some advice?” he enquired. You looked up at him, your expression inviting him warily to speak, though you weren’t sure what he could add since this was your lived experience, and one he had only read about. “As you go to bite down open your mouth a fraction wider, it will allow you to clamp your teeth into a wider surface area and hold your prey stiller.” He advised, half a smirk dancing on his lips. He was failing abysmally at trying to hide it.

“I – excuse me?” you were somewhat astonished he’d given you advice on how to bite yourself better. What happened to your caring mate? The one who did his best to help you calm your anxiety. The one who held your hand on nights it felt like you couldn’t breathe?

“I thought it would be sound advice,” he said, giving up on his efforts now to fight back his smirk, “As my little vampire in training, you need to know how to bite down properly. If I had been your prey just now I would have easily escaped, and you would be left hungry.” You stopped stock still, eyes bugging a bit in your head as your brain just…stopped working.

“What…did you just call me?” you asked. Demetri had walked on ahead as if nothing was wrong, but he paused to turn back towards you now with a shit-eating grin on his face, crimson eyes sparkling.

“My little vampire in training. Unless of course, you would prefer puppy? They chew on things to, no?” he tilted his head at you while your jaw dropped. Just for a brief moment there was clarity in your head, the sheer absurdity of his comment punching through all your anxious thoughts. You felt you should be insulted, was it an insult? Coming from someone other than Demetri maybe it would be but this was the man who listened to every little thought in your head, wiped away every tear and held you while you cried. No, Demetri could never do you harm, whether it was with words or fists he was bound to protect you always, he was incapable of insulting you meaningfully.

“Your little – Demetri!” you scolded. God did your jaw ache. He chuckled.

“Alright alright forgive me…though can I say, I feared your bite far more than Felix’s.” he held out his hand to you and you automatically sidled up to slip your palm against his, Demetri turning you both back in the direction of your shared room before you began to walk once more.

“Felix’s has bitten you?” you asked, your curiosity sparked.

“Oh yes. You see, when I first joined the Guard Felix was assigned to my combat training. He won every round. I, however, am a quick learner, and once I began to pick up his teachings I won my first spar against him quite easily…and the one after that, and the one after that…he gets bitey when he loses.” He revealed. You bit your lip, fighting back a smile as you imagine the hulking man tossed onto his back by your own, lithe tracker. It was a funny enough sight in itself, but adding the image of him lunging with teeth barred to gnaw on your mate was even funnier. It should have been frightening but you knew the gentle giant too well to think he would ever attack his comrades with any malicious intent.

“Alec best watch his back then, he’s getting close to Felix’s high score on Crash Bandicoot.” You mused. Demetri snorted briefly.

“Yet another fun story…Alec once locked himself in his room for three whole days when Jane picked up one of his games and completed a level he’d been stuck on for weeks on her first try.” He told you. Your smile grew a little wider, stretching across your face as you imagined the calmer witch twin throwing said hissy fit. Demetri continued his stories long after you entered your room, laying on his side with you opposite him as he regaled you with one story after another. Aro had once dropped a book on his foot after a late night of studying, looked around to ensure nobody had seen, and stuffed it back on the shelf so fast he had placed it back upside down. Jane had a beautiful singing voice but had been startled so badly by Felix interrupting her once she’d slipped right up the scale on the last word and tortured poor Felix for a whole hour straight for ruining her song.

Story after story you listened, enraptured by his smooth baritone while he played with your hair, soothing your turbulent mind as you focused on his words and his words alone. You might wake up tomorrow and find you were once more trapped in the cycle of anxiety that you were hard-pressed to escape one it got you in it’s clutches, or maybe this blessed moment of relief would last and tomorrow you would be free once more for a little bit longer until the next moment something you felt was too big too manage came along. For today, Demetri had lulled you to sleep against his side, your breathing slow and even for the first time that day. Whatever you had to face next, whatever challenges might come your way, you knew on your worst days Demetri would always be with you to help you overcome them, armed with all the latest mummyblog advice for you to rebuke.

[ichayalovesyou]

Hey so from your blog I understand you are neurodivergent? Correct me if I'm wrong. If you are, sometimes I wonder if I have Asperger's Syndrome. When I look back on my childhood there are some questionable aspects that I got over, I think, but with a lot of effort. For example I used to watch the same movie over and over again till I had big chunks of it memorized and I played it in my head when I went to sleep? And I was obsessed with puzzles, I did and redid them many times. And lots of repetitive things. Also I don't know if I was just being sensitive or something, but I always cried at the tiniest disapproval of adults.

I'm sorry if this comes off as stereotypical, but those are things my peers found weird and not actually "normal" and it was pretty hard for me to get over them.

Lol I don't even know where this is going, I guess I'd like to see some insights from a neurodivergent person, because I've never had the chance to interact with one. How did you figure out you were neurodivergent? Can a person on the autism spectrum learn to communicate effectively with other people on their own? (because I think I can do that, but it's not always a pleasure haha).

Feel free not to respond to this, I don't want to bother, but you seem..... Approachable😂. I'm not one of those people who self-diagnose through an internet quiz and try to make themselves appear special....You know the ones. I'm genuinely curious haha. I'm probably fine, it would still be interesting to see your response. Thanks.

I’m going to be perfectly real with you

I do not have an official diagnosis for anything aside from “generalized anxiety” but I only got the chance (until very recently) to get therapy for a year.

But I do feel like there’s a difference between wanting to feel “special” and going into self-diagnosis territory half-cocked. And looking at your life, tallying up the evidence, making an educated guess, and then making an effort on finding out whether or not you’re guess is correct from a professional.

For instance, in my case (I’m about to get into “tragic” backstory stuff just to give a clear picture):

I come from an emotionally abusive situation in which, even when I had teachers, pediatricians or other moms suggest I (at the very least) had ADHD my mother got offended, denied it and insisted I was fine. In fact, the only way in which she has treated my as any sort of neurodivergent is the “generalized anxiety” diagnosis I got from the six months of therapy I got 7 years ago. Even then she uses it as a tool to invalidate my feelings. She never considered it may be a symptom rather than a source until my baby brother got diagnosed with autism.

My family has a loooooong history of autism/adhd and other mental illnesses, all of my siblings and cousins above the age of 3 have one or both, I also wouldn’t be surprised if my father has autism and my mother has ADHD even if they went undiagnosed from the same stigma that kept my mother from getting me help (and only getting my younger sibling help when essentially forced by the school system.)

It was only really when my brother exhibited behaviors and got an autism diagnosis (and my mother and I started reading up on the topic) that I realized just how many of my behaviors were associated with textbook autism. I looked at my baby brother and I saw myself, the biggest difference between us is that I was hyper verbal (talking a bit before 18 months) and he was totally nonverbal until he was almost three (both of which, are symptoms of autism) that I really considered the possibility. Even my mother suggested I may be right, better late then never I guess.

I exhibit many of the exact behaviors you describe that are associated with both adhd and autism, I lined up toys, I drew the same picture on one sheet over and over. I take comfort in compulsively watching movies and shows over and over, I (for lack of a better words) stim sing and use movie quotes and references as eccholalia as stress relievers (especially in new social situations). I cried at the drop of a hat, when I was angry I’d repeatedly hurt myself by banging my head and arms against the myself or walls. I also do the “happy flappy arms” when I’m excited or nervous, I have a special interest in writing and making music (I have a hard time thinking about pretty much anything else). I had lots of trouble socially until about high school and none of my friends are neurotypical (or straight lol). So, I think it’s safe to say that I am either on the spectrum, have ADHD (which exhibits a lot of similar symptoms).

When I found this out, I started treating myself like I had these things instead of beating myself up for being “weird” and my mental health improved significantly. Mind you, it’s still not great because I am not (yet) in therapy and live in an overcrowded, emotionally abusive household, but I am making concerted efforts to remedy both. I’ve got my first therapy session in almost a decade arranged for next week and plan on moving in with another, less crowded, less abusive parent.

The best thing I can suggest is, read up on what you think you may have, look at the symptoms, compare them to you’re own, write it down, write how you feel about it. But more importantly read other people’s experiences with autism and ADHD, while medical professionals can help you get access to diagnosis and (if you need it) medication, sometimes the personal aspects get lost in the machine. At the same time of course be careful who you listen to, there are a lot of organizations and people out there who want to “help” by trying to force us to act “normal”, acting neurotypical does NOT equal living to enjoying your life to its fullest potential. On the flipside there of course people out there with and without diagnosis that will promote unhealthy thinking patterns and coping mechanisms, you’ve got to think critically and decide what is best for you.

Not all of us can get therapy, not all of us will get diagnosed even if we do, especially if you’re AFAB and have autism, or if you’re “well behaved” (ie pass as neurotypical) we slip through the cracks all the time. Try to get therapy anyway, a diagnosis can be really helpful (but in the case of autism it can also be detrimental because of the sheer amount of ableism around it, again, read other people’s experiences).

It’s okay to act on the idea that something is wrong, you know when something isn’t right with you, not even your parents can define that for you (I learned that the hard way). As long as you don’t wallow in it, operating under the assumption you have autism and/or adhd, using the tried and true coping mechanisms, being gentle with yourself, can be very, very helpful.

Hope this helped <3 💚🖖🏻💚

[imagineredwood]

Request: Imagine the Sons learn that a new patch is on the Autism Spectrum.

Pairing: Sons x Male reader (platonic)

Warnings/author’s note: I sat on this request forever. I tried to keep it relatively simple because those who are on the Spectrum can be so different and never fit a mold and I worried it would be easy to accidentally go off in a direction not where the reader actually was. I never got specifics from the person who requested so I used my own judgment and figured that he would likely have less severe manifestations that would be clear as to what he has or would’ve possibly prevented him from being patched in in the first place. I’ve dealt with people on the spectrum that you don’t know until they tell you and then there’s my cousin who basically ticks every box of what society sees as a stereotypical autistic person down to the hand/arm flailing. So I tried to make this one with a common manifestation in hopes that it was more inclusive. 

Huge thanks to the precious @breanime who gave me the plot for this because I really was struggling with this one. Thanks again mama ❤️

Word count:1.4k

 “Alright. If we’re all in agreement, let's get this shit on the road.”

Jax grabbed the gavel and raised it up, your shoulders quickly tensing in anticipation as the hammer was held high. Jax began to bring it down and as much as you tried to prepare for it, tried to control your face and not let the discomfort show, it was to no avail. As the harsh hit sounded, you flinched as if you hadn’t been ready for it. You recovered quickly, clearing your throat and trying to shake it off, your eyes catching Juice and Chibs from across the table. Chibs looked away back to the president but Juice stayed. His eyes were on you, a curious look on his face that was quickly erased and replaced with a smile once he saw you looking at him. You returned the smile, Juice being one of the Sons you were closer to. 

Even if he didn’t know about your disorder, you had always been able to relate with him more. You knew about his OCD, pretty much everyone in the club did. It was just a part of who he and it was never a topic for discussion. It was just an aspect of a member that made him a little different than everyone else. It wasn’t seen as a bad thing and you could only hope that when you finally came out and told them you were on the spectrum, they would view it and you the same. You were a good Son and had earned your patch just like anyone else. You had overcome cleaning toilets and kitchens, doing grunt work while everyone else got to enjoy their time. You had overcome that all and had earned your patch. Now the last hurdle was overcoming that godforsaken gavel and the hellish noise that came with it.

Everyone scooted back their chairs and stood from the table, starting to file out of the chapel and back into the main area of the clubhouse. Juice came up behind you and clapped you on the back, tossing an arm around your shoulders. Even if Jax was your sponsor, Juice was the one that had made you feel like a brother before everyone else.

“How you doing man? You good?”

You grinned and nodded, throwing your own arm around him.

“Good as ever, brother.”

Juice nodded once again and patted your back twice before pulling away.

“Jax said he wants you to ride down to Lodi with him and Chibs.”

“Got it.”

You nodded in acknowledgment and started to head out of the clubhouse. Chibs and Juice walked slowly, purposefully falling behind so that they could speak. Once they know you were far enough out of earshot, Juice spoke.

“Did you see it?”

The older Son nodding and looking over at Juice.

“Aye. He hates that gavel like Tiggy hates dolls.”

Juice nodded, happy that Chibs had paid attention like he had asked. Juice had noticed two weeks ago about your aversion to the gavel slamming but he knew that no one else had. Ever the observer, Juice had made it a point to pay even closer attention after and had verified that the sound of the gavel was something that got under the new patched skin like nothing else. There was such discomfort in his face for that split second after that it almost appeared like he was in physical pain. Juice had asked Chibs to pay attention in church next time and now he had seen it too.

“The lad looks like he wishes he could just up and leave the chapel. Maybe he’s got PTSD or something and those noises get under his skin.”

Chibs and Juice continued to walk, getting closer to their bikes and Chibs pushed his shoulder into Juice’s.

“I’ll talk to Jackie boy, see if I can get him to ease up on the gavel. Lord knows that shite gives me a headache as it is.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~`

Later that day, Chibs had spoken to Jax as he’s said he would and run their observations by the Pres. As the week went on, Jax had remembered to bring it down much more softly. It wasn’t nearly as loud as it usually was, but Jax had made it a point to watch and sure enough, even with the much lighter approach you still flinched. Afterward, both Chibs and Juice had agreed that it had been much less intense, the look of panic not as pronounced. Jax took note and the next time they’d had church, he had basically tapped the stand as if he was just trying to squish an ant. The truth was, it was more the motion and action of bringing down the gavel that held the importance, not the loudness. Jax was much gentler and he kept watch that time, pleased that there was only the tiniest squint of your eyes. Practically unnoticeable unless you were looking for it. You caught his eyes, realizing what he was doing and gave a half-smile, the President returning it.

As time went on, the Sons made it a point to change what they could. They adjusted as necessary so that there wasn’t as much sensory input. Unnecessary slamming of doors stopped, the strobe light in the corner that they sometimes put on during parties was taken to storage, and they were careful to step in whenever too many people wanted to approach you and talk at once. They did what they could to help you, never once showing any irritation and never asking you about why you reacted to things the way that you did. They simply adjusted to make sure that their new brother was comfortable and comfortable you were. You hadn’t experienced any sensory overload the entire month and with the reminder about church tonight, you had pulled Jax to the side and asked if you could speak to everyone once church was over. Jax had agreed and now here you were, sitting in your chair at the table.

“Now before we wrap up, our newest member has something he wants to say.”

Their eyes all turned to you and suddenly you wondered if this was a bad idea. You hadn’t accounted for how it would feel being the complete center of attention and you stumbled.

“Uh, yeah. I uh…I just wanted to,”

You swallowed and looked to Juice who gave you a strong nod and smile. He didn’t know what it was that you were going to say but he offered you strength anyway and you took it.

“I assume you all have talked to each other about how I don’t like loud sudden noises. I can tell that you’ve all tried to bring it to a minimum.”

The members around the table all nodded, no judgment on their faces, simply curiosity.

“I appreciate it. I do, really. Loud noises and light changes just mess with me and I know that you guys have gotten a handle on it for me, but you don’t really know why.”

You looked around and your eyes landed on Jax who had his brows furrowed, equally as curious about what you were going to say as any of his other men sitting around him.

“You can tell us.”

You gave a nod and figured it would be easier to just get it out rather than continuing your preamble.

“I have Autism Spectrum Disorder. It’s a developmental thing. I won’t get all into it but that’s why I can’t stand sudden changes in my senses. It just throws me off. But that’s why.  Its…it’s the Autism.”

All the Sons at the table nodded, looks of understanding on their faces now as they were able to put a reason to the behavior. Looking over, you saw Juice with a smile, offering a small thumbs up. You chuckled and gave him a thumbs up yourself, looking back over at Jax when he began to speak.

“Well thank you for telling us. It doesn’t matter to us, we just wanted to make sure you felt as comfortable here as the rest of us. Knowing this now, we can figure out what works and what doesn’t to make things easier. You’re our brother and a damn good Son. We’re gonna look out for you no matter what.”

There were smiles all around the table as Jax gently banged the gavel and everyone stood, offering you strong hugs. They welcomed you in your entirety into their club, lives, and hearts and made sure you knew that you were up to par with the rest of them. They loved you as a brother not despite your disorder, but because it made you who you were, the newest member of the family.

[autisticpeterparkerheadcanons]

An anon put the idea of Shuri and Peter and stim toys in my head, so here we are. Dedicated to that anon (anons? possibly, ha) and also @iamnotasexbot123 for an idea I used in here as well! ^.^

Peter tries not to be too disappointed when Tony tells him he’s going to be gone for a week over the summer.

He’s going to Wakanda to collaborate on a project with the princess herself, and Peter has to admit he’s maybe a little bit jealous, as well.

When Peter tells him to ‘have fun, you’ll have to tell me all about it when you get back’ is when Tony realizes he left out an important bit of information.

“I won’t have to. You’re coming with me. If you want to, anyway. I already talked to May.”

Peter almost falls off his chair in surprise, and Tony laughs.

“You...want me to come with you?”

“Obviously.”

“Why?”

Tony levels a look at him that he has no trouble reading (it’s one he’s seen a few too many times), and he slowly nods, a smile creeping up. “That sounds really great, Mr Stark. Thanks.”

The second week of July comes much more quickly than Peter anticipates, and while he wants to be excited, he finds himself nothing but anxious. Tony had already given him a rundown on what to expect, but he doesn’t really think that helped at all now that he’s boarding the jet to leave.

It’s a long flight, and that coupled with his near-panic levels of anxiety, he decides half way over the Atlantic that if he doesn’t move right this moment he will definitely implode.

Tony does what he can to help, but the space is limited. It definitely forces him to get creative. (He had known from the start this might be rough.)

Somehow they make it, and by the time they land in Wakanda, Peter at least isn’t sitting on the edge of panic anymore.

T’Challa and Shuri are waiting to greet them, and it’s like someone flipped a switch. He’s not anxious anymore, just excited.

(Tony can practically feel Peter vibrating next to him. And he’s definitely glad the anxiety has been replaced. It’ll be a good week, he thinks.)

They spend the afternoon being shown around, then eat with T’Challa and Shuri that evening, and retire early so they can start early the next day.

The next morning, Peter debates even bringing a cube with him to Shuri’s lab. Tony, of course, encourages him to bring it -- just in case, with a Shuri isn’t going to judge you Pete seriously -- so he does.

There’s not much hands-on stuff to do the first day -- just a lot of planning and schematics and adjustments -- and Peter starts to get restless before noon even hits. He’s glad now Tony convinced him to bring his cube, and out it comes.

And, just like Tony said, Shuri doesn’t say a word about it. If he hadn’t seen her gaze flick to it, he wouldn’t have been sure that she had noticed at all.

The week flies by, and suddenly it’s Saturday and time to leave. Shuri and Peter had really hit it off in their down time (what little there was), and exchange numbers before parting ways.

A couple of weeks pass, and Peter’s not really sure how to start a conversation now that they aren’t face-to-face, but he’s starting to wonder if he should. He really likes Shuri, likes talking to her, but he doesn’t really know what to say.

He’s working in the lab with Tony late on a Friday night, when he gets a text. He’s half distracted as he pulls out his phone, but then he sees who the message is from. Shuri.

And she’s sent him a meme.

And he has to remind himself that, yes, they are about the same age and members of the same generation even though they live on opposite sides of the world, so of course she’d send him a meme of all things.

He replies with another meme.

It quickly turns into a meme war. Memes only. For days, they speak in nothing but memes.

This, he realizes much later, was the start of a beautiful friendship.

Months pass, and they’re on a video call when the inevitable happens: Shuri says something and Peter just...doesn’t get it. It goes over his head completely. 

She gives him a weird look as she clarifies, and its after she finishes that he says it without thinking: “Sorry, that’s just the autism for ya.”

It takes him a second to realize what he said, and then he can feel his face heating up because he hadn’t meant to say that but he is kind of tired which explains everything, but still.

But all she does in response is to smile and move on with the conversation. (She picks her words more carefully, he notices, but it doesn’t seem like it bothers her at all to do so.)

Just like with everyone else who has ever found out, he quickly finds that nothing has changed. (He knows it shouldn’t surprise him at this point, but it still does for some reason.)

She’s easy to talk to, and since she occasionally brings stuff about it up herself, it quickly becomes easy to talk to her about everything related to autism as well.

(On Shuri’s part, she knows about as much as Peter had starting out, but she does her research and asks intentional questions because she can tell he doesn’t mind answering them and she learns. The more she asks, the more he opens up and allows her to get to know him.)

Just before Christmas, he gets a small package from Wakanda. Inside is a ring with a note to go with it scrawled in Shuri’s handwriting.

This ring is nanotech made from vibranium. No more breaking your fidgets. ;) It can do pretty much whatever you need it to. Merry Christmas.

When he shows it to Tony, the man isn’t surprised. “Yeah, she asked me about it a couple of weeks ago. We thought that design would probably work the best out of her ideas. Looks like it came out great -- no surprise there, obviously.”

He vaguely remembers ranting to her about just how many things he’s accidentally broken, and he smiles.

(The next time they video chat, he goes off for at least five minutes about how awesome it, and they talk for some time more about how she made it and the other designs she’d thought of, and Peter is certainly grateful -- for more than one reason -- that he’s found a good friend in Shuri.)

[mychemicalrant]

Getting it on Both Ends

There’s kind of a weird emotional set of walls that someone with aspergers has to walk between. On the one hand, we are visibly set apart from everyone else through our appearance, behavior, interests, etc. On the other hand, we’re not visible enough, so we get accused of all manner of ill intent. This plays out in the following ways:

Wow, you’re autistic.

So I recently went on an interstate trip that, while challenging in many respects (lots of socializing with strangers, changing sleeping environments), went surprisingly well. My dad and I then met up with some old family friends of his, people who had known me since before I was born. They have a stunning, beautiful, amazing, accomplished, incredibly gifted and experienced 19 year old neurotypical daughter who they couldn’t be more proud of. Like, this kid was a superstar in high school and in their little community with friends, boyfriends, admirers from all over. Now she’s working with children and going to college for a degree in Awesome Incredible Career. I...am a 30+ year old job-challenged newly diagnosed autistic with few friends, no car, and have just moved back in with my parent. Suffice it to say my self esteem was a little low. I’ll admit, by this part in the trip I was incredibly weary of traveling and socializing. We had taken this very cross-country trip 15 years ago to see these same people and I remember having a panic attack the whole week from being so far from home, but that’s another story. My point is, I was visibly off. I went outside to spend time by myself, I stimmed like crazy, I drank ungodly amounts of beer, I ate a ton (because eating is readily available and encouraged in that part of the country), and I hyperfocused on a few of my travel interests. I’m a huge fan of collecting things and I like to collect certain things while I’m on the road, so I ended up dragging everyone along to search for these items.

Things were going pretty well, I guess, but in the back of my mind I was stressing. Was I coming off too weird? Too excited? Too distant? Too uncomfortable? I didn’t want to embarrass anyone but I knew I was slipping into the end of my rope. I had just spent one and a half weeks in hotels/stranger’s houses meeting an endless stream of new people in a strange area I wasn’t familiar with. And, like it or not, I’m autistic and always have been even if I didn’t always know it. But there’s something poignant about growing older and still seeing yourself acting outside of your age-appropriate behavioral expectations in front of people much, much younger than you who are absolutely nailing maturity. After all my worrying and insecurity about this...I overheard a conversation I probably wasn’t supposed to hear. The daughter was talking to her dad who has, again, known my parents since before I was born and visited frequently when I was a child. He knew my mom before she died. And he said “...ever since [my mom] died mychemicalrant’s been....weird.” And his daughter said, “Oh, I thought mychemicalrant was nice!” It was a very humbling moment, I guess. I am really nothing at all like my mom, which I think is part of this observation, but the fact of it is that I have had my weirdness blamed on my mom’s death since I was ten. And that never feels good. Because I know I’m really being blamed for autism, and that is something that I can’t help. Getting over tragedy is something that society expects you to do and also provides a context for my inappropriate level of development, but...that’s not what it is. So, ouch.

You can’t be autistic, that’s bullshit!

Anyway. So I’m licking this wound slowly on the drive home. My dad doesn’t say anything to me about my “behavior” (like he would have had to do when I was growing up) so I figure the moment has passed and he’s unaware of the whole thing. See, my biggest fear is my dad getting blamed for my behavior. Like, my parents were always critical of me to a point, but my dad is an Enneagram 9 and he lets things be what they are for the most part. But being a single parent and having a “troubled’ child attracts unwanted attention, and I’m scared to death that my autistic presence will cause some of the legal ruckus it caused when I was a kid. That’s...well, that’s another entire story, and maybe entirely TMI for tumblr. Back to the present: I get home and call my friend to tell her of this experience and how it made me feel. She was sympathetic about it, which encouraged me to share some really good news from my vacation:

I made a new friend who is really fascinated in me (cool) and this person friended me on FB. In doing so, she found my months old Autism Diagnosis Coming Out post and commented on it, which bumped it up to everyone else’s timeline. I had thought everyone had seen it and chosen not to say anything, but suddenly I was getting a stream of supportive and loving messages from old friends, including a friend of mine who is pursuing their own diagnosis right now. !! I was very excited about this, and mentioned it to my friend on the phone, who knows this person. And suddenly all of the polite, restrained, “You’re undergoing a spiritual journey right now that means you will overcome your autism when you’ve learned XYZ spiritual lessons” in regards to MY diagnosis became “There is no way they’re autistic, they’re a fucking spoiled only child who got everything they wanted from their mom because they threw a tantrum if they didn’t, they are autistic like I’M autistic, please!” Me: This friend got along with their mom as well as you get along with yours?? My friend: Yeah, exactly, [Friend] is exactly like me! A spoiled only child who didn’t learn social skills because their parent didn’t teach them! Me: ...You know I’m an only child too, right? My friend: Oh, but your situation is TOTALLY different, I mean, blah blah blah...

Yikes. This conversation has stuck with me. First of all, I’m really proud of my other friend for seeking a diagnosis. I have always known they struggle with some form of executive dysfunction and a diagnosis makes that make so much sense. I’m super proud that they are pursuing this path. Also, it does not surprise me that my friends might also be on the spectrum or otherwise neurodivergent because these are the people I was closest with. I um...don’t have the heart to tell my friend in the aforementioned conversation that I strongly suspect she may be somewhere near the spectrum, too. My point is, not everyone believes me when I tell them I have autism because they have a built in, violent, cruel, irrelevant stereotype of autism in their minds. (My friend worked with troubled children from broken homes who included kids with autism, and naturally these kids looked/acted nothing like me.) But it was the vitriol with which she body slammed our mutual friend while pretending to begrudgingly accept my diagnosis that took me aback. It made me think a lot: if my friend who is seeking a diagnosis doesn’t have autism and is instead a spoiled only child who didn’t learn to socialize (this person is actually extremely empathic, generous, and creative), why does my other friend think they are pursuing a diagnosis? I didn’t have the energy to ask, but I had a few guesses. And none of them reflected well on my friend’s feelings towards me and my diagnosis. So, there you have it. On the one hand, I’m so “weird” I’ve had the cops and CPS called on my family to investigate potential abuse because my behavior indicated that something was seriously wrong at home, and growing up I was a constant source of embarrassment for my parents. On the other hand, I can’t possibly be autistic because only little boys who bite and scratch and hit their moms with broken bottles are autistic. It’s an uncomfortable place to be. I’ve had legitimately had my feelings hurt by being called out for being autistic and called out for "not really having autism” in the same week.

I think this is not unusual for those who would otherwise have fallen through the cracks, diagnostically-speaking. But, here’s where I’m at right now emotionally. I am trying to adjust to life in a new place (that part is going really well) and adjust to my new understanding of myself as autistic. This isn’t easy when I have to oscillate between shame (I really am autistic and this does have social consequences, not just for me but for those around me) and worry that I’m not “autistic enough” and I’m somehow defrauding those who are truly disabled or lying to everyone about my condition. In other words, I am still trying to define my relationship to autism. I have a lot of pain and shame to wander through first.

[philcoulsonismyhero]

So here’s the thing. I graduated a couple of months ago. I now officially have a BSc in theoretical physics. But it’s an ordinary degree. It’s not an honours degree, and it’s definitely not the MPhys degree that I should have gotten. And that’s because I failed. I failed a lot of exams, and didn’t sit other ones because there was no point in putting myself through the stress when I knew for a fact that I was going to fail again. And that wasn’t being defeatist, that was being realistic. So after four years at university, I got an ordinary degree.

After four years of university, I had planned to have a masters degree.

But I failed. I fucked up. Because of a whole raft of circumstances relating to only getting my autism diagnosis after royally fucking up my second year of uni and then being fucked over by the uni’s disability service and just generally having no idea how to study because I never needed to before. I aced school. I did extra exams every year that they would let me, and I got straight As. And I barely had to study at all. Then uni comes along with its ‘self-guided learning’ and lack of the structure that had let me thrive at school, and I crashed and burned. I went straight into second year because of my straight As in my final year exams, fucked up third year, was thrown into fourth year anyway. A retroactive interruption of study after the first semester of fourth year went as terribly as you’d expect did no good, because then I had even less structure. Repeating fourth year (now actually in my fourth year at uni) was a non-starter. I ended up not doing half my exams because there was no point. I only got a degree out of the whole mess based on accumulated credits from 2nd and 3rd year.

I didn’t try my best, I didn’t work hard and fail anyway, I just failed. And I’m slowly trying to convince myself that that’s okay. It happens. Sometimes something you thought you’d be great at turns out to not be for you, and that’s okay. Sometimes the standard path through life isn’t for you because you have a disability and that means you’re not a standard person. A type of learning might not suit you, and that’s okay too.

And I’m getting there. I’ll eventually maybe be okay about the whole thing. It’ll help once I actually have an idea of where to go from here, because right now I’m directionless and it’s big and scary and difficult to process. And I’ve got people in my corner who’ll support me regardless of what comes next.

But then every time I’m starting to think that being okay is an achievable goal, I remember that my dad exists and he’s being utterly fucking useless and is in fact actively causing me more stress than any other thing in my life right now, and suddenly I’m Really Not Remotely Okay.

I’ve seen him four, maybe five times in the last year? The most recent time was a couple of months ago in May, around when I’d made the decision that I wasn’t sitting my last batch of exams because there was no point. But it was for only a few hours over lunch and his fucking girlfriend was there so the sum total of things I was able to say to him as my parent was two sentences about that decision before the subject was changed. Because he might as well be a stranger when Lynn is around. She’s definitely a bloody stranger, that’s for certain. I have tried to find something likeable about her, something we could talk about, anything to move her from the category of ‘adult stranger’ to ‘significant other of person I care about’, but nope. There’s nothing. And when she’s around, my dad isn’t my dad. He’s her boyfriend. It’s jarring and unpleasant and there is a reason that I’ve gotten so angry and uncomfortable that I’ve had to just straight up leave when I was supposed to be spending time with them.

And what has my dad done about the fact that I did something so enormously out of character not once, but twice? Absolutely fucking nothing. He’s not even mentioned it, not once.

And do you know what else he hasn’t bothered to do? Ask anything at all about what my uni situation is. All he knows is that I didn’t sit that last set of exams. Did he bother to ask about what that meant for my degree, or whether I’d be graduating at all, or even think that maybe I might be graduating and there would be a possibility I’d want him to be there? No. No, he didn’t. For the record, I got my degree in the post. There was no way I was celebrating something that as far as I’m concerned is a failure, not an achievement. But does dad know that? No. He didn’t even bother to find out. No thought whatsoever for the slim possibility that I might want one of my parents at my graduation, no thought that I might feel bad about not achieving what I set out to and it might be nice to have some parental reassurance.

I have gotten absolutely no communication from him since that one day in May when he and Lynn had lunch with me and my sisters. A lunch I very nearly didn’t go to because there was a very distinct possibility that I’d end up storming off for a third time.

And then yesterday morning I got a text. A text that was quite clearly sent to all three of us (my sisters and I), asking when we were going to be free over the August bank holiday weekend, and that was it.

I don’t think I want to see him? I don’t think I can deal with hanging out for a few hours and letting him pretend he’s being a parent, all the while completely avoiding any topic that might require him to have a conversation that’s even slightly emotionally engaged. I’d like to have a proper conversation with my father, maybe even yell at him a bit because he quite frankly deserves it, and if that’s not going to happen then I don’t want to see him. 

I want my dad back. I want to go back to the couple of years where I genuinely would have found it hard to choose between my parents if it had come to that. Because the man that shows up once every few months to play act being a parent quite frankly isn’t worth my time.

But I don’t know what to do about it? And that’s the worst thing. I have no idea how to confront him, no idea how to communicate any of this, no idea if I’m even capable of yelling at him because I spent so long playing mediator and being the quiet and reasonable one that I’m straight up physically incapable of raising my voice. I was Mum’s shoulder to cry on, the person Dad could complain about Mum to, the eldest sibling who acted as a buffer and reassurance to my sisters, and somewhere along the way I either lost or just never developed the ability to shout at people. Along with ‘learning’ that shouting never solves anything, that getting angry is counter-productive, that dumping your emotions on someone else is selfish and might hurt them more than it helps you...

I was fifteen when my parents actually divorced. Meaning that the years and years of build-up to that, the years and years when I was the mediator stuck in the middle? I was even younger. I was a child. There’s nothing fair about that. And it’s almost definitely why I didn’t even realise I had problems of my own until I was at university, because before then I’d been to busy dealing with everyone else’s shit to pay attention to myself.

And another consequence of that is that dad has never actually lived with me while I’ve been having problems. He’s just showed up every few weeks (later months) and spent a few hours with me, during which time I was more concerned with spending time with the parent that I missed horribly than talking about any issues I was having. So he’s just. Oblivious. He hasn’t bothered to try and understand the true nature of my circumstances, the actual consequences of my having a disability, the fact that I genuinely have trouble with things that he’s just been assuming I’ll be capable of doing. It’s not nearly as simple as ‘you’ve finished uni, now go get a job’. But he hasn’t bothered to understand and I don’t know how to make him understand and it’s all just building up and stressing me out and it’s Not Fair. It’s not fair and I deserve better from him and it makes me want to fucking throw things because I can’t even scream about it because I Can’t Be Loud and my throat will physically close up on me if I try.

And I hadn’t realised how fucked up that was until I saw a post about that being something that’s a thing for abuse victims. In my case it’s from years and years of being the Sensible And Level-Headed Mediator but I just. It brought me up short, that post.

I don’t process negative emotions very well. Oftentimes I can’t tell what they are other than ‘not good’. But right now I’m tired and I’m sad and I’m angry and they’re all feeding into each other and it’s got to the point where I have to work really hard to not start crying whenever dad comes up in conversation or something reminds me of him.

And I just. Needed to try and get all of this down and release it into the void because never talking about things that upset me is one of my worst bad habits, and it’s going to take a lot of chipping away and working at it to break it. And I need to break it, because it’s not doing me any good at all.

[lunarmoonflowyr]

hey i’m love my girlfriends and as i’m wont to do imma make big mushy posts for them because i’ve been feeling emotional lately <3

for @transwitchery, quite possibly the most precious human being i have ever had the pleasure of interacting with <3

i met Sammy about....uhhhhh....probably eight/nine months ago, cus she posted the CUTEST selfie and i was like

o shit

she cute

imma flirt

because that’s usually my default reaction when I see a cute girl, cus I’m a big ol gay. 

she had on this rly cute dress?? and her hair was like, adorable, and she had like this really cute half-pout face on and i was like dawwwwwwwwwwww

it was cute. 

I honestly don’t remember a WHOLE lot about our initial interactions because my memory is Grade S Awful, and the tumblr messenger won’t let me go back and look because it’s Very Functional, but I do remember that my nerve failed me and my actual flirting just fucking Failed

but I enjoyed talking to her!! she was nice!! and v sweet!! so i followed her!

i think she followed me back but then she unfollowed me at some point for some reason but anyway

we sorta talked on-and-off for a few months, nothing super consistent but we did talk, I considered her a friend. It was about when ah...let’s see, I want to sayyy...hmm...November? October, ish? when we started really consistently talking?

AND THAT IS WHEN THE FLIRTING STARTED

although it wasn’t PROPER flirting at first, it was just me being friendly and calling her cute and adorable and okay fine it was technically flirting i guess. But I didn’t really plan on DOING anything about it, at the time I was dating other people, she didn’t seem particularly interested (which I have now learned was just obliviousness)

but I mean, having a crush isn’t really new to me. At any given moment I think I have about half a dozen to a dozen different crushes of varying levels, so the fact that I had a crush on her never really...idk, affected how I talked to her? I just treated her like I would any friend, crush notwithstanding. 

the crush started getting a lot more intense throughout december tho, and i was like fUCK WHAT DO

because like, the relationship I was in at the time, while technically poly, my partners at the time didn’t really want me to actually flirt with anyone else at the time. the relationship was getting REALLY strained around that time though, for various reasons, and Sammy sorta...well, became someone I felt much less stressed around. 

so I think that definitely had an impact on the crush, because being around her was just WAY less stressful than the rest of my life. she was always really nice to me, and I vented to her once or twice about small things and she listened. 

when my relationships officially ended all around the first week in January, I talked with her about it a little bit, but I mostly just talked to her more in general. being around her felt good, it was comfortable and safe and being around her just sorta made things a lot less shitty. 

it was around this time that I realized that I...trusted Sammy, quite a bit. Which was a very weird feeling for me, because I’ve been through a lot in my life and most of it has added up to a distinct lack of ability to trust people. But I trusted her, she was someone that I would go to just...to talk, to be around, because she made me feel safe. I trusted her, and I felt good talking to her and being with her. 

then I really started falling for her, and I amped up the flirting a little bit. She still didn’t really seem interested, but I wasn’t sure if she was disinterested or just didn’t realize that I was flirting. She was flirting with another girl at the time, and at some point she asked me for advice.

and I told her to just tell the girl how she felt instead of dancing around the issue.

...

shut up. I followed my own advice!! I mean, the advice was just as much me talking to myself as it was to her, tbh...ahaha...>//>”

so I confessed that I had one big fat crush on her and that I liked her and WHOO BOY LEMME TELL YOU

THE NEXT 24 HOURS WERE HELL ON MY ANXIETY

CUS SEE, SHE TOLD ME SHE WAS GOING TO BED

AND MY NERVOUS, GAY ASS WAS STILL ON THE FENCE ABOUT FESSING UP

So after she went to bed I was like “fuck it, if I don’t do this now I’m never going to do it” 

I gave her a good ten minutes to head to bed, and then I fessed up. 

the next evening she responded, and gave a rather rambly and disjointed response, but the general gist of it was that she wasn’t interested. Which was fine! I honestly didn’t expect much to come of it, so I told her it was fine and I just focused on being her best friend~

I mean, that didn’t stop me from falling further and further in love with her. She was honestly adorable, and one thing that started really getting to me was how fucking gorgeous she is. 

Like, I identify as grey-ace. I have hypersexuality and a REALLY high sex drive, but I don’t really experience sexual attraction. With a few exceptions. I can think of...fffour, off the top of my head, where I felt actual, real sexual attraction. Two ex-girlfriends, my current girlfriend Jasper, and...Sammy. 

Actual, physical attraction. I mostly tell people I’m a lesbian cus, I like girls, girls are pretty, I have aesthetic, romantic, and sensual attraction to girls, but rarely physical, sexual attraction. So the fact that I was RIDICULOUSLY attracted to her, in all ways possible, just made the crush even worse. 

I mean, I still flirted with her. Constantly. But I tried to constantly make sure that it was okay, that I wasn’t crossing any lines. She set up boundaries, she made it clear what would be too far, and I respected it. 

Then about two weeks ago, something was...different~

The good kind of different. 

She started reciprocating the flirting almost, and she started getting...almost forward. A little before then she had started initiating conversations, she was poking me if I took too long to respond, and being VERY chatty. And as someone with anxiety and autism and a boatload of other mental illnesses, traits me and her have in common, I know that when we do that, that means we REALLY LIKE whoever we’re doing it to. 

At the end of that week, on Friday, she got...curious. I had mentioned a voice I could do, a seductive voice, that was my secret weapon for whenever I wanted to SERIOUSLY fluster someone or turn them on. And she doubted my abilities and wanted a demonstration. 

As anyone who has heard me do that voice will know, that led to some...very interesting places, of which I will let her mention if she ever wants to~

But essentially, that night broke all the boundaries me and her had established previously. 

We talked about that fact, and the next day, well...she asked me out, and of fucking course I said yes. 

I was honestly over the fucking moon. And I’m so, so happy still. I was already pretty much in love with her, and this past week has only increased that feeling almost tenfold. I feel so, so incredibly safe around her, I feel happy and warm and good and talking with her is pretty much the highlight of my day. 

I trust her and Jasper more than anyone, I can talk to her and I know she won’t judge me. She won’t expect me to do more than I’m capable of, she understands me and cares about me despite my (numerous) flaws. 

I treasure her company greatly, I love her so so so much. She’s precious and adorable and wonderful and there are so many good things about her. She’s funny, she makes me laugh constantly, she’s absolutely ADORABLE and has the cutest mannerisms. The way she hides half of her face with her hair. 

The way she’ll just stare at me for a good few minutes sometimes, making these cute little noises and giggles and then getting REALLY blushy when I ask her what she’s doing, (knowing full well what she’s doing)

The way she’ll randomly start lip-syncing to whatever song she’s listening to, promptly getting embarrassed about it. 

The way she keeps constantly forgetting that I’m not actually there when we video call and she’ll move to reach over to touch me, and it’s ADORABLE. 

And when she’s sleeping she looks so cute, she’s so peaceful and she’ll get this smile on her face sometimes and it’s so, so precious. She gets so flustered sometimes too, and she’s honestly BEAUTIFUL. 

Like...oh my god. She’s so, so beautiful and so cute, I like, I blush when I THINK about her. Her hair is wonderful, her jawline murders me, she has SUCH PRETTY EYES, a really really cute voice, like aaaa, and her laugh cures my depression, and her smile is so bright and good and wonderful.

She makes me smile so much, she makes me feel so safe and important and warm and happy and good. And she’s so important to me, and so special, and I love her so sososososo much >////<

It’s honestly impossible to put into words how much she means to me. But I tried >///<

[kirinhealthprogressjournal]

It’s worth mentioning, the only supplements I’m still taking are the vitex, and the DIM; and occasionally things like biotin and magnesium, and the digestive enzyme, -as needed.

I’ve definitely been able to do more than before.  And when I do spend all day outside or busy with a party or something, - I’m not sick for three weeks afterward.

I’ve not been able to lose weight as of yet because I guess progesterone levels make people ravenous.  That, and I do still get sick and light-headed, and I’m still sleeping a LOT.

So, while I know I’m not going to just be able to get rid of endometriosis on my own, and I’m still going to probably sleep a lot, and have random fevers and headaches and whatever the hell.

At least I can tell I’m better than I was before.

I’m not even taking the maca root at this point, only because it said it helps produce BOTH estrogen and progesterone, and even if the other supplements are helping reduce excess estrogen, I thought, I’ll just stop taking that one and see what happens.

And I’m actually doing pretty good.

I just woke up and I’m not in a lot of pain.  I actually feel awake.  And I feel like maybe I could go take a shower and do the dishes, and as pathetic as that sounds, it’s kind of a big deal for me, after just waking up.

This time about six years ago, I was in such a state, my husband came home and found me lying on the couch and I started to cry, and he was really concerned and asked me what was wrong, and I told him,  “I can’t go check on the baby.“

Like, it’s hard to explain the levels of bone-deep exhaustion and something sapping all the strength out of you, that it’s so hard to just get up and go check on your child (he wasn’t crying or anything, but you still want to go and check every now and then, obviously), but it was so hard that it brought me to tears.

I remember in the Summers I couldn’t make it all the way up the stairs.  I don’t know why Summer was so much worse than Winter, but when it was hot, all my stamina left me, and I would have to pause partway up the stairs to rest before I could go the rest of the way.  And in the Winter time, I was fine and didn’t even have to think about it.

We have AC now, but I am feeling better.  I have no problem at all going up and down the stairs.

I can stand on chairs and raise my arms above my head to change a lightbulb, and I don’t worry about blacking out for a few seconds or falling off the chair.

I’m not taking thyroid supplements.  I’m not taking adrenal supplements.  I’m not taking olive leaf extract.  I’m not taking ashwaghada.  I’m not taking colloidal silver.  .. I don’t even remember what else.

These were things I had to take several of, twice daily, just to keep my head above water.  And I don’t even have a job.  That was just so I could be able to do something like go out to dinner, go pick up my kids, go take a shower.  Normal, basic things.

Anyway, the doctor wanted to put me on synthetic thyroid medication.  Even though he didn’t know what most of my symptoms were.  When I expressed my concerns about synthetic thyroid hormone initially seems to help, but that it caused a person’s thyroid to weaken over time, and require more medication, which makes things worse, etc.. All he told me was that he had hundreds of patients /on/ the medication, that said they were feeling better.

... Yeah.  I’m actually really annoyed with this guy, and that’s just one of the reasons.

Needless to say, I did not take the synthetic thyroid hormone.  I’m tempted to go in for my blood test soon, and show them my thyroid levels are better now, so he can fuck off with his half-ass diagnoses, and medications he refuses to learn more about.

With what I’m taking right now, I’m reducing the excess estrogen in my system.  This improves my thyroid function. Before, my thyroid was affected by the estrogen that caused my endometriosis to spread.  My gut couldn’t digest nutrients and caused anemia.  I get random fevers.  I get heart palpitations if I work out too hard.  I had/have a tendency to develop candida overgrowth which mirrors fibromyalsia.  I had acne really bad, clear up into my mid-20s until I cured that with a different herbal supplement called herpanacine.

But basically all of these things were not from a chronic illness or glandular fever.  They were a result of excess estrogen in my system and endometriosis, screwing everything up.  I also have plaque psoriasis on the back of my head, but I don’t know if that’s related.

I’m not aggravated at my doctor for not diagnosing me with endometriosis.  He’s a man, and even if he wasn’t, it sounds like it takes doctors FIVE YEARS to diagnose someone with this condition.

But I believe it’s a growing problem among the population.  Hormones out of balance, immune systems compromised, brain chemistry is screwed.  And it’s all because we’re a generation that grew up, from utero, surrounded by chemicals our bodies were not intended to be ingesting and touching, and showering with, and basically submerging ourselves in, with every meal and every breath. Autism is on the rise.  Cancer as well.  Endometriosis.  Infertility.  PTSD.  Within this generation, just about everyone you meet is bi sexual, and transgendered.  And these are not just ‘trends’.  They’re not phenomena coming from spoiled, bored young adults.  These are actual chemical differences between people who are transgendered, and people who are not.  There are biological components to this whole thing that scientists are still discovering.  And I love the fact that we’re blurring gender stereotypes and appreciating each other as human beings, instead of aliens being the opposite gender.  Because I always knew we were more relatable than we acted. But the vast number of this, and so rapidly, and only apparently in countries that are developed enough to incorporate all these chemicals.  We are the generation born from the first generation that was raised on birth control, and it DID something.

And the Baby Boomers condemn us, and call us spoiled.  We have health problems, and neurological disorders, and even WITH those, we kill ourselves just to make rent and buy toilet paper, while big companies hold all the cards, and have all the lawyers, and cheat us out of every penny they can.

I don’t doubt that you CAN find spoiled, incompetent millennials.  Every generation has them.  But what Baby Boomers are not recognizing, is the impact that mass production and all these chemicals we’ve been raised in, has taken on our bodies, and what this flailing, drowning economy is doing to our livelihood.  More people are on disability, and on medicare, and go to food pantries.  And I don’t chalk that up to laziness.   Housing is a problem.  Finding a trustworthy employer who won’t bleed you dry doing 80-hrs a weeks, and kick out out on the street and when your wife is eight months pregnant; is hard to find.  Finding an employer who won’t continually tell you your job is secure, while they quietly fire off just enough a small enough percentage of the company, that they don’t have to legally tell anyone they’re going under, and they keep firing off smaller bits, until you’re one of them; is hard to find. Everyone cheats.  Everyone is only looking out for themselves in the business world.  

This is not the business practice the baby boomers grew up with.  No one cares about your family anymore.  Everyone just wants to be as rich as possible, and cover their ass with legal loopholes.  They don’t care who they screw over.  And that’s just what’s to be expected in business these days. Insurance companies recommend a doctor to you over the phone, that is covered by their plan.  And you go to that doctor and check with their office staff every time you go, and ask if everything is clear with insurance, and they tell you it is.  Insurance is paying their portion of the bills initially.  And then about eight months later, the insurance company conveniently ‘looses’ that phone call where they referred you to your doctor in the first place, and suddenly the hospital, and the insurance company expect you to pay all these bills out of pocket, and repay the insurance company their share.  Thousands and thousands of dollars that you don’t have because the company you work for is crooked, and you’re trying to scrimp on food so you can buy ear medicine for your baby. This is how the world works now.

You don’t put on a clean suit, and smile when you shake hands, and do a good job, and become a supervisor in ten years. You’ll be fired in three, when they’ve made as much money as they planned to with that project, and then they sell the company.  And they go start another one elsewhere.

There is no loyalty.

My generation is drowning, financially, emotionally, physically, spiritually.  The only thing we DO have is education.  And that’s only because universities want more money.  So they force superfluous class loads, that won’t help with your career, because you have to pay for them.  Again, it’s just another way to bleed money from my generation, that they don’t even have, and send them off into the world with $45,000 in debt, with no jobs available unless you have ten years experience with programs that have only been around for five. And we’re expected to buy a house.

[kingofmy-delicate-heart]

I'm leaving on a Greyhound to see my parents in Alabama (I live in Florida) and I am so nervous that I can't stay out of the bathroom. We have a troubled past because of my brother who has major behavioral issues and he is a ward of the state now. I don't really know my parents outside of the screaming, stress, and abuse. The monsters, I remember them. As a kid, an adolescent, that's all I've ever known. I'm 21 now and it's been seven months since the state took my brother away, and my parents sound really happy over the phone: they don't have Kyle to deal with, Kyle the tornado. They were totally unprepared for a kid like him, and they have learning disabilities themselves. Double whammy. But I came out the least messed up-- I'm Dyslexic and probably Autistic but that's about it. I'm somewhere near the Asperger's/Autism line and I'm the first in my immediate family to go to college. But that enough about me. I am traveling out of state, on buses with strangers for hours, I'm gonna be at transfer stations collectively for hours, in cities I haven't seen in months or years, I have a taser so that's good, and I'm gonna be sleeping in a bed that's unfamiliar to me so I won't be able to sleep for the first few nights (I'm bringing my stuffed hippo that my boyfriend got me for my birthday, and his hoodie) and I'm staying there for a month. I have to learn how to communicate with my parents and I CANNOT tell them about the... sexual assault that happened a year and a half ago. I won't do it. My stomach has been upset the past few days because of the anxiety, whether I'm consciously thinking about the trip or not. I still can't leave the bathroom. I have some of my friend's antianxiety pills and I've chewed papaya to settle my stomach. I feel like my dog on the 4th of July, which is ironically today (my dog is a rescue who was used for foxbait, they used gunfire to get him to hunt, so he's terrified of loud booms. We give him this peppermint spray called Canine Calm). I'm at a point now where I can leave the bathroom and hopefully not run back and I have to be up now anyway, it's 6:35am. Also, I'm Mormon but I could never serve a mission: possibly being sent to China for a year and a half? I can barely handle this. I'm gonna go get dressed, take an antianxiety, and stuff. I didn't write this for anyone to read, but if you did, thanks. I appreciate that. K, bye.