#art block is a chronic illness

[littiaye]

catching some Z’s

[celerydays]

Any update on Reprieve part 2? 🙂

hey hi hello! i'm so sorry it's taking me so long to post part 2 🙇🏻‍♀️ thank you and everyone else for your patience, i really appreciate it, you have no ideaaa 💕

I had a couple of things pop up that made me sorta put my art and the comic on hold. Namely, some health stuff and a brief period where maybe I had burnt out slightly(?) and everything I was drawing wasn't turning out quite right (though it could also just be that my skills likely aren't up to par with how I would hope for this to look 😵‍💫) so I took a week or two off to shake off the art block.

Then my friend introduced me to the Magic Poser app last week which has been a SAVING GRACE for a good chunk of the things I had been struggling with and it's gotten me back on track with part 2 in the last few days (bless her 🙌)

I'm hoping that I'll finally be able post part 2 sometime next week now that I'm back on a roll with this (and now that my health finally seems to be cooperating with me once again lol) 💗

[arctic-hands]

My best advice to sick and disabled kids, as someone whose been sick to the point of disabilty since I was four, is to pick up a creative hobby. Learn to draw, take up knitting, learn the guitar if you're strong enough to hold one and take up ukulele if you're not. Do something that will stimulate your brain and give you the satisfaction of creation, as well as distraction.

My parents' idea of occupying my time thru appointments and infusions and hospitalizations and sick days was just piling me with books and video games. Which is fine! Great escapism, fun to do, saves you from boredom. But sometimes you don't need to escape, sometimes you need to create, and not knowing how or where to start fills you with a feeling of frustration and helplessness. Reading gave me a fantastic imagination and I created worlds in my head that I had no way of getting out to share or saving for posterity.

My parents had hobbies of their own. Mom's a fiber artist and dad's a musician, and I asked them repeatedly over my childhood to teach me what they were doing but they always waffled on it and never did. Hell I didn't even learn how to cook until I was eighteen. So I was left with books and video games and no sense of satisfaction in my ability to do anything.

I took up art in my mid twenties, mostly by watching YouTube tutorials or checking out how to draw books from the library. They say the best time to start is yesterday, but the second best time is to start is today. I don't create art every day. I have more pain and exhaustion days than I do creative days. But when I can create it feels empowering, and power is something I don't have as a disabled person.

And I'm not saying take up a creative hobby so you have something to sell to fall back financially when you're too sick to work (obvs if you want to you can, but that's not the point of this advice). Paint pictures just to hang up in your bedroom. Crochet clothes for your dog. Write songs with lyrics that only make sense to you. And if no one is willing to teach you these skills, seek out resources and basically teach yourself.

I don't know how to end this post, but I am begging every sick kid (and sick adults too, for that matter) to not just wait for your life to end, distracting yourself solely with passive hobbies like books and games that have been scripted out to have pre-determined endings decided for you. Find an outlet you can do to create, for your own sense of satisfaction if nothing else.

[muzzleroars]

yo ive got some songs that i think are fallen gabe songs!! with titles so you can look them up instead of clicking the link if you want

Gen'ei (Phantom/Shadow/Mirage) by Harumaki Gohan (it's in japanese so you gotta turn captions on)

DEATHBODY by GHOST and Vane

oooooooh thank you so much for sending these bc i think they both really hit on relevant themes that i want to explore with him in future pieces....and they give me the opportunity to talk about them now!! (this will cover some heavier topics dealing with identity and...literally death and body-related issues, so please be aware before proceeding!)

mirage - this is likely self-explanatory, but after falling the central internal conflict gabriel experiences is piecing together who he is and what his identity is to be. initially, he thinks of himself as a shadow without its body, as a void made material that lingers as gabriel's sin and stands as a testament to his choices. his mind is weighted with contradictions, at once feeling a deep remorse and shame for the crimes he committed under god's direction, but knowing as well that this had been his purpose, that he was forged as a weapon to be wielded against any enemy of god's kingdom. so what is his truth then? is his true self what god intended for him, is it the mold he was born into and felt such pride for in all the millennia that had past until so recently? or is he made of the doubt that had always been in the back of his mind, is he truly the autonomy he had found and the ramifications of that he now reckons with?

he both hates what he had been and envies it, sickened by all the images he sees of his past as the archangel that plaster hell as though to mock him...because for some time, he thinks that was him, that was his reality, his inherent being. the image of gabriel as he was haunts him, stalks him though he feels himself now as the ghost, he is reminded constantly of the gabriel that harmed so many but was so beloved, so favored. so prized by god. logically by then he knows god was wrong, god forced him to betray himself over and over, but there's nothing easy about leaving eden. gabriel has fallen from the highest station, he has taken the lives of other angels, he lives now in pain, in exhaustion, in hell. yet at the same time, that past was one of ignorance and denial, it is one he could never go back to now that his eyes are open. and besides...the adoration he felt was distant and conditional while the devotion he had was mindless and expected. not like now, not where love is given intimately and his worship is chosen. he comes to understand that he was gabriel, that he can't abdicate his responsibility for the atrocities he committed...but that what he's become as a fallen angel was always a part of him, an almost inevitable conclusion (if he still fully believed in fate). he lived such a long life lying to himself, contorting who he was to be the perfect image of an archangel, and it only pains him that it took him so much time to act on his doubt.

deathbody - AUUUGHHH.......this one gets it because gabriel is actually struggling a lot with his death as he had taken his own immortality as a granted - and when the light was ripped from him, his belief was that he would simply cease. that itself wasn't an easy thought, but he never considered rising again, coming back in a body that's aching and weighted. and with the information that hell is orchestrating a lot of what's occurring in game, i like to think it was the one to bring him back and something in him knows that. in a day, he's gone from being the brightest angel in god's choir to a corpse resurrected by hell itself. he can feel whatever's become of his soul is sullied and he knows that anyone else who's left can see it too, even something inorganic like v1 - his blood, once carrying the odor of sanctity, now smells of rotting lilies. his body is also distinctly more physical than he's ever felt, the light and flame gone from him to leave a shell of matter behind, something that was once more like a skin becoming his entire being. his movements have lost their elegance, his feet must now tread the ground, he feels the effort of muscles and he feels the weight of his armor. he had known something like physical exhaustion from particularly demanding fights, but this is an animal sensation, one that sets in with so much less effort. in fact, it's constant, easing with rest but following him now forever, feeling always as though he's dying despite already being dead.

AND LISTEN....i got plenty of sappy stuff about how he learns to adjust to his now non-ethereal nature and all the ways it solidifies his relationship with v1, BUT i'll spare everyone since i've gone on long enough (and i'm too corny for even myself sometimes!!!) just know it's likely to come up in some doodles eventually!!

[dosie-dosie]

Oh boy! I can’t wait for my art to blow up on Tumblr!! *Doesn’t draw*

See below for art prompt:

[fred-the-dinosaur-draws]

or 'The artist battling chronic joint pain'

currently solving (?) the age old frustration struggle of not being able to find doctors who even pretend to believe in illnesses or proper treatment by tearing though a bunch of medical papers and found this absolute banger of a line. never thought of it this way before.

[some-french-asshole]

Will you post anymore art any time soon??? :]

[that-asthmatic-queer]

Anticlimactic

I’ve always assumed

I would die young

A draft left rough

A story unsung

It’s not melancholic

Just common knowledge

Nothing else to call it

Just how it is

No glory to blaze

This ends before it begins

No martyr complex

Only what could have been

[axeknee]

My love for bg3 has me doing actual art studies. God forbid. Bc I wanna make art of the companions. Surprisingly I am enjoying myself just working from refs and like defining the planes of the face and Wyll actually has a very cute heart shape kind of going on BC of the cheek ridges which I adore. So there will be Baldur's gate 3 art from me eventually

[manriah]

Being chronically ill is a full time job that doesn't pay! Being an artist is my part time job that doesn-.....sometimes pays 🤣🤣🤣

Lots of health scares and appts for me lately! Today I'm waiting on a call back from the faint/fall clinic once they triage my referral thru. And this morning I already talked to cardiology abt a referral for testing, but the soonest they can start my 30 day halter monitor heart test is in May 🙃 I like my new psychiatrist I met with yesterday, she says shes also eager to hear what the new ketamine clinic says next month about infusions for my bipolar/ptsd and seems on board to work with my whole case team if the new infusion clinic says I'm a good fit! And she gave me some new leads for testing for other dx I might have too, so I also have to contact another dept abt mental health/dx testing but since the dx isn't a priority for my care or impacting my case I'm gonna wait until Monday for that!! I'm busy busy busy!!

Prints Here

[sourtoasterstrudel]

Testing out some new pens as i try to get motivation back. Hopefully this isn’t just some one off thing againnnnnn. I swear every time I’m art blocked i draw Madoka i just have her design memorized from middle school

The chronic illness will not stop chronic-ing <3

I keep saying I’d love to share more ocs and shit but dude i haven’t touched those guys for monthssss. I keep on wanting to draw little clown dudes for an rpg idea that keeps popping into my head so maybe you’ll see some clowns.

[sturgeonposting]

Hello!

Welcome to sturgeonposting. I’m sturgeonposting. My pronouns are they/them. I’m 21. I have autism.

This is my blog where I post about sturgeon fish, which are my special interest.

For sturgeon facts, go to #sturgeon facts

For information on a specific sturgeon, search the scientific name as I tag all my posts with scientific names. Some species have multiple common names.

For sturgeon-only content, block/ filter #not sturgeon???

Feel free to request a specific sturgeon species in my asks, or to ask any questions you may have about sturgeon fish. You can also just shoot me an ask about anything and I’ll most likely answer it. I especially love receiving pictures of sturgeon, if you’ve taken any.

I struggle with a few chronic illnesses and general states of unwellness, which sometimes causes me to disappear from tumblr for various unpredictable amounts of time, but I promise I will always return eventually to gab about sturgeon fish.

Thanks for visiting sturgeonposting and happy sturgeonposting. This has been sturgeonposting.

P.S. I also have a side blog called @shuttletatted so if you’re here from the world of fiber arts wondering why you got a like from a fish blog, welcome and I hope you’re less confused.

P.P.S. I have a second side blog called @marrowsucker which is where I put personal stuff if you’re interested in knowing the sturgeon behind the posting

[am-i-the-asshole-official]

AITA for block evading to make sure someone is still alive?

So this whole situation gets rather complicated and quick, so please bear with me… TW for mention of suicide.

I (20m) previously made friends with a younger artist (about 17f by now if I’m remembering correctly; please keep an open mind here) after being unaware of their age and just following them for their art for a few years. One day, when I was 18 and I believe they were maybe 15-16, I reached out to let them know that I had been deeply influenced by their art and thought a lot of their work was very fun and humorous, and we kept in contact afterward mostly through public chat spaces, just joking around with each other and sharing art and memes and the like.

I want to stress that I had absolutely zero foul intentions here. They were a lonely kid without many friends, and I felt for them; I went through a lot of the same shitty situations (namely an abusive home) they were actively going through, and genuinely all I wanted was to offer them a safe space and a friend. I know that people sometimes get weird about friendships across age gaps, but I sincerely only wanted to help where I could. To this day I’m still not sure if I went about it the right way, but that’s a discussion for my therapist and not for here.

Fast forward some time. I discover that the other artist didn’t have a lot of friends for various reasons that were all linked mostly back to their immaturity, which I didn’t mind considering that they were. Y’know. Kids. But part of this immaturity was just… not understanding time restraints and boundaries, and that reflected back at me, despite multiple instances of me sitting them down and having talks with them about it as gently as I could. These talks were usually just about them messaging me constantly, literally non-stop, in the middle of the night, during school hours, etc etc etc. During this time, I became sick — very sick. I stand now chronically ill and permanently disabled. I was sick, scared, and exhausted, and yet I was expected by this friend to talk to them literally constantly, or else they would get upset. And it took a further toll on my ailing health, because no matter how many times I tried to tell them that I physically couldn’t talk to them as much as they were demanding I do, it never seemed to resonate.

I started reaching out less and less, because I just physically couldn’t handle talking to someone That Much for That Long… It wasn’t personal. It came to a point where our chats went completely silent, and even if I did reach out to try and talk, they wouldn’t reply or would only do so in very short, clipped responses. So I respected the obvious decision they had come to and just… kind of stopped trying to reach out. I was still a follower of theirs, though, so I would visit their profile every now and then just to make sure they were doing okay as a means to soothe my own worries.

Then they made a post alluding to offing themselves, went radio silent across all their platforms for a few days despite my best efforts to reach out, until I tried to check up on them again and found myself blocked everywhere. This made me panic; I genuinely didn’t know what to do. It took me a while to even remember that I could just… log in to a new account online rather than the app to check up on them, and after a few weeks of doing this, I was relieved to find that they’re still doing okay and back to posting semi-regularly. I don’t know the details, but at least they’re alive, y’know? That’s all that matters to me. Now, I just try to check every month or so to make sure they’re okay, and I’ll send them little anon messages trying to uplift them, or tell them to stay strong… I’m aware that it probably falls under stalker territory or something, but I genuinely only want the best for them, and as it stands, I don’t have a whole lot of other ideas for how to at least make sure that they’re okay…

Anyway… I’m making this post because there was another “AITA” post that got torn apart by people for someone evading a block for some reason or another, and I guess I was just compelled to see if this story would get a similar reaction… 🤷‍♂️

So yeah. AITA for block evading to make sure someone is still alive?

What are these acronyms?

[proselfship-imagine-hub]

💛PINNED POST💛

WHAT THIS SIDE BLOG IS ABOUT:

this is a sideblog is dedicated to making and sharing original selfship content made by and for proshippers and proship safe people

stolen, reclaimed, borrowed, etcetera posts and submissions will not be hosted on this blog. i hold no ill will to anyone who steals, reclaims, etcetera posts from antis, nor do i have any wish for them to be shamed or stopped, but as stated above, this blog is solely for original posts

if a post or submission is inspired by an anti's post, then that is different because it transforms the idea and makes it into something new with a personal twist

this blog will cover a lot of different kind of selfship stuff, from imagines to polls, questions, ask games, reblog games, memes, art and craft ideas, and more

this blog will also cover a range of different types of F/O relationships, from romantic, platonic, familiar, shipcest, and darkship

requests are ALWAYS open by the way!! it may take me a while to get around to them, but i promise i will. i love getting requests, i'm just chronically tired lol

also, in order to avoid being nuked, this account will is SFW only

QUEUE INFO:

posts queued: 57

posting speed: 15 per day

posting times: 7:00 AM — 9:00 PM Pacific Daylight Time (GMT-7)

last queue shuffle: 4/17/23, 1:30 AM

info updated: 4/17/23, 1:30 AM

ABOUT ME:

you can find my main blog @littlefaeella, my selfship banners and userboxes blog @proselfship-banners-n-boxes, or my personal selfship sideblog @ella-the-og-normalshipper

the character in my profile picture and banners is my sona, sticky note the sticky note, she is the host of this blog as far as i'm concerned lol XP

also, i don't check blogs before i reblogged from them unless i have any amount of doubt that are proship or proship safe, and considering i reblog from the tags... please don't assume that i do or do not support something just because i reblogged from someone who does or does support something

PEOPLE WHO I WILL BLOCK:

antis "cosang", "radqueer"/prats and other supporters of abusive relationships in real life, racists, and lgbt-phobic people pedophiles, zoophiles, necrophiles (big 3) along with any other unconsentual paraphiles and ANYONE who sympathizes, supports, or are neutral about them about them being "pro contact" (a.k.a pro rape and molestation)

ANYONE who thinks unconsentual paraphilias are just "different" and quirky silly attractions and not something to be taken/talked about seriously 100% of the time poppyblr/pro underage RPF people who make/engage with RPF in general. while i won't argue for the censorship of RPF because i don't believe in censorship, i do not want to interact with ANYONE who dehumanizes real people and puts them on the same level as character and decides they don't deserve to be treated with dignity and respect and can be used like they're just a character (a.k.a an object) for personal gratification anybody who tells people to kill themselves, they deserve to die, deserve to be hurt, doxxed, harassed, etcetera

TAGS (under cut due to length, encouraged to look over them if you have any squicks, icks, or triggers):

IMAGINES

original imagine

reblogged imagine

submitted imagine

requested imagine

romantic imagine

platonic imagine

familiar imagine

shipcest imagine

darkship imagine

nonspecific relationship imagine

F/Os (disclaimer, child, parent, sibling, and extended family are all inherently familiar and non shipcest or romantic tags unless specified otherwise)

villain f/o

hero f/o

sidekick f/o

yandere f/o

darling f/o

monster f/o

non or beyond human f/o

royal f/o

knight f/o

parent f/o

child f/o

sibling f/o

extended family f/o

OTHER SELFSHIP STUFF

non imagine

original non imagine

reblogged non imagine

submitted non imagine

requested non imagine

selfship ask game

selfship reblog game

selfship arts and crafts

selfship bonding activities

selfship poll

selfship questions

selfship positivity

selfship meme

selfship promo

selfship banners

OTHER STUFF (GENERAL AND CW/TW)

sticky note stuff

sticky note speaks

banner and pnj masterpost

banner and pnj masterpost reblog

ask box

askbox

blog update

cw rude dni

rude dni

cw hostile dni

hostile dni

[teawithnosugar]

Terrified Her

! Pairings ,' Toxic!Ellie x Chronically ill!Reader ! CW ,' angst, Ellie is kind of toxic???, anxiety??? not the best depiction of a heart disease, open ending ! words ,' 1.4k ! synopsis ,' Ellie is constantly pushing you away and your already weak heart can't take it anymore ! song ,' You're Losing Me - Taylor Swift

"I gave you all my best me's, my endless empathy"

! AN ,' not happy with how this turned out, still practicing after years of writer's block so feedback is appreciated <3

“My god- just fuck off for once!”

The words echoed in your ears like a piercing scream, shaking the fragile peace of your farmhouse. Barely a week had passed since your return from Santa Barbara, yet the tension between you and Ellie had grown unbearable. Each time those harsh words spilled from her lips, they struck your heart with the force of a jagged stone.

“We can’t keep going on like this Els, we need to talk about this, I can help you.”

Your pleas fell on deaf ears, and Ellie stormed out of the house, slamming the door behind her. She never strayed too far, merely pacing around the farm, choosing to sleep beneath the stars instead of finding solace by your side. So you retreated to the bedroom, sleeping alone once again. Silently, tears streamed down your face, just as they had during the treacherous journey to Santa Barbara and back. You had mastered the art of stifling your sobs and sniffles, not wanting to further upset Ellie. That was a mistake on your part, creating a barrier that held her back from comprehending the agony that her relentless quest for vengeance caused you.

The morning arrived, Ellie's absence was noticeable until you found yourself in the kitchen, preparing breakfast. With puffy eyes, you cast a pointed glare at her as she walked into your home. You needed to let her know that this was wrong. But when she gave you a chaste kiss on the cheek and ever so casually asked what you were making, you almost crumbled then and there beneath the weight of her indifference or feigned ignorance of the profound anguish you bore down deep.

You held it together though, as always, and gave her a soft answer, afraid to use too much energy in speaking as it was already taking everything in you to keep it together.

“Some pancakes…it’s all I could make with what we have right now.”

She hummed in response, wrapping her arms around your waist from behind as you cooked. Resting her head on your shoulder, she seemed lost in thought, oblivious to how tightly she held onto you. Her embrace that used to comfort you greatly now suffocated you, literally. She was clearly still grappling with the events in Santa Barbara. Ellie had been frustrated for years, always yearning to seek revenge. Now that she was back home, she felt so alone, and that killed you because you were right there, begging for her to see you.

But now, you were softly begging for her to let go, wincing a little because her grip had opened a few stitches of wounds earned during your trip.

"Shit, sorry," she quickly let go, hurrying to retrieve the first-aid kit from the bathroom when she noticed blood seeping through your shirt. You turned off the stove and perched on the counter, patiently waiting for her to return.

You slipped your shirt off, to make it easier for you both. Once you got a look at the wound, only a few stitches had come undone but you took blood thinners due to the heart condition you had and it caused an excessive flow of crimson.

Ellie wordlessly positioned herself between your legs, tending to the wound with delicate hands and having to do very minor stitches. Her brows furrowed in worry and lips pursed in concentration, guilt filled her eyes as she adamantly avoided meeting your gaze.

In moments like these, you caught a glimpse of the Ellie you fell in love with all those years ago in Jackson—the one hidden beneath the walls you now saw, your Ellie.

Your Ellie, once so tender and serene, always playing your favorite songs and filling her notebook with drawings of you. Now her guitar sits silently in the corner, its strings wounded by her injury. And she had grown weary, devoid of the energy to birth new art. Whenever she opens her notebook, it's only to revisit old memories. Once, she left it out on the table, and it was hard not to notice the prominent tear stains that marked its pages, like a sad reminder of lost joy.

Even when she finished patching you up, she lingered before you, her presence marked by silence, her hands trembling ever so slightly. You couldn’t help but ask a soft “you okay Els?”

In an instant, her expression changed dramatically. She emitted a small, exasperated groan before abruptly leaving the room, a bitter remark escaping her lips, “I’m fine, stop fucking asking.”

You just closed your eyes, trying to steady the resounding heartbeat that you could hear in your ears. You swallowed thickly once you composed yourself, ignoring the pins and needles you felt on your forehead and fingertips.

You quickly abandoned the half-prepared meal and walked in front of her where she sat on the couch. You slipped on a shirt from a pile of clean laundry next to her. Silently, you stood before her, though she made it abundantly clear that she would ignore you, rolling her eyes and meticulously cleaning her already gleaming firearm.

“Ellie…please…we need to talk about this…I’ve been so understanding…let me into the pretty little head of yours.” You whispered softly, voice a gentle plea as you put a gentle hand on her hair, which she quickly swatted away as she rose from the couch.

“How many times do I have to tell you I’m fucking fine”

“You’re not fine!” You shouted, causing her to freeze because you never raised your voice at her before.

“Just…leave me alone Y/N…” she sighed, running a hand through her hair.

“Are you sure you want me to do that? Cause if you want me to leave you alone, I’m going to fucking leave.” Your voice resonated with firmness, but your eyes begged her for any kind of communication, to tell you she wanted you there.

Her eyes widened slightly and her mouth opened and closed a few times as she struggled to find the words she sought but all that left her mouth was a soft and pathetic “I don’t understand.”

“Clearly,” you muttered under your breath before shaking your head softly and sighing. “I’m getting tired Els, I’m here to help you. I’ve done nothing but fight by your side…so stop ignoring me…” You took a few steps closer to the brunette. Every step you took, a warmth blossomed within Ellie's chest, a familiarity she hadn't felt since Joel’s death. It absolutely terrified her, bringing back memories from when she had everything, reminding her of everything she had lost yet again, so she snapped.

You had no idea what she was shouting at you, and neither did she. She screamed at you words that she hadn’t even processed before they left her lips. You didn’t know when it happened but you were now standing, back against the wall as she pinned you, her arms enclosing you in as she spewed words she didn’t even mean.

Her glare alone caused you to instinctively shrink, your heart pounding so forcefully that all you could hear was the ringing in your ears. You wanted to tell her to stop, that you felt like you were going to faint, but you felt frozen on the spot.

You had a heart condition, a condition that demanded caution, and yet you followed Ellie across the country despite the dangers. But it was not the infected or violent people that quickened your heartbeat in an unhealthy manner; it was Ellie, right within the safety of your home. Ellie just had that effect on you

It’s only when you let out a strained cough, doubling over against her, did she finally realize the extent of her rampage and fell silent.

She immediately lowers both of you to the floor, cradling you in her arms.

You desperately tried to breathe and she did everything she could to help, holding your hand and whispering sweet words. She kept you close to her chest, trying to calm you down. As your breathing gradually steadied, absolutely drained, you closed your eyes, falling asleep in her arms.

Ellie fought back tears as she held you because she realized that while she mourned the losses she had endured, you had been silently mourning your relationship which wasn’t even over yet and that was all her fault. Her thoughts spun wildly, attempting to etch the feeling of your weight on her and your scent into her memory, unsure if you’d grant her such intimacy like this again when you wake up. That terrified her.

[olderthannetfic]

u have a no nonsense perspective i appriciate. am i being overly sensitive if i'm kinda triggered by those adhd comics where the protagonist gets diagnosed/accepts themselves and says something along the lines of "i get to forgive myself?!"? because my brain automatically injects "unlike those other people who don't have a reason to fail and cant/shouldnt forgive themselves". im neurotypical so im not the target audience but my friends keep putting that stuff on my dash and idk how to deal

--

A lot of "my minority is so great" art is kind of implicitly saying so at the expense of others. Dwelling on it is oversensitive, but I think you're right that there's a bit of weird subtext sometimes. (My personal most hated flavor on tumblr is Smug Asexuality Comics, but there are many versions.)

Lots of people can run into Executive Function, What Executive Function? problems, both from other neurodivergence and from things like situational depression, anxiety directly caused by stress, etc. If life throws a lot at you at once, you won't necessarily escape all these symptoms just because you don't happen to have a specific diagnosis of neurodivergence or chronic mental illness.

A lot of shit overlaps and so do a lot of coping mechanisms that can handle it. The named problems are just a specific constellation of symptoms that are particularly long-term, particularly intense, and that don't relate as much to changes in environment. So perhaps some people deserve extra help coping and extra understanding, but the building blocks of all these problems are things that everybody could use a helping hand with.

I doubt most of these comics are trying to say "nobody else deserves nice things", but one does sometimes come away with that impression.

What you should do next depends on whether your problem is that your friends are posting things you find annoying or whether you feel like you are not allowed leeway and forgiveness (by your own brain, by your friends, by your family).

One of these should be ignored. The other...