I KNOW YOU JUST REBLOGGED IT BUT I CHECKED TUMBLR RIGHT AS YOU DID ANS NO NO NO NO AS THE OP I AM ALSO VERY FAT AND YOU CAN BE CARRIED NO MATTER WHAT BECAUSE I SIMPLY SAID SO AND GOD ANSWERS TO ME ❤️ GET PICKED UP AND LOVED
-@eternitys-servent
I LOVE the energy of this SO MUCH.
This is the positivity we need!!
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so while i was writing the book, i became violently suicidal.
this was mostly due to the fact that i had a very bad reaction to some meds and my brain stopped producing any serotonin. also i was in the last semester of grad school where it's actually illegal to feel anything but dread. so it wasn't going well.
somewhere in the fog of it i became aware i needed help. nobody was taking clients or my insurance. i didn't want to do inpatient care - it wasn't right for my needs. there's not really an "in between" stage between "inpatient" and "no care," but i was trying to do the right thing. i was trying to activate the chain of command that was my emergency plan. i knew i needed help now.
i used betterhelp.
i know, i know. i'm a straight-A student and so smart and so clever, how could i ever use something so blatantly bad. to be honest with you, i didn't feel particularly keen on it from the getgo - things that seem too good to be true usually are. also, if something online is free, the price is usually your privacy.
the thing is that there was kind of a global pandemic happening at the time and i worked 5 jobs alongside of being a fulltime student and also like writing a book on the side. it is a miracle that i even thought about getting help. i would love to tell you i had the mental wherewithal to like, process whether this was the right choice for me. mostly i was desperate. i was so suicidal that i was trying to find a reason to stay inside of fortune cookies. i was the kind of suicidal that looks like splatterpaint. i hadn't been that bad in an entire decade.
they took my data. i gave them it freely. somewhere out there, they have a dossier on me. on everything i survived. my story in little datapoints, scattergraphed beautifully.
the first woman told me that really i should be grateful, because (and this is a direct quote): "at least you're not anne frank." i said that i felt that statement was antisemitic, as anne frank's life and experience shouldn't be compared to like, a nonbinary lesbian in western massachusetts. the therapist said that i should try to use lucid dreaming to try to picture myself in an actually scary situation, like running from nazis.
i applied for another therapist. i was willing to accept the possibility that there was a bad apple in the bunch. the next therapist and i even laughed about how inappropriate that statement was. and then, in our next session: the new therapist said if i was struggling with body image issues, i should just work harder on my appearance. she spent 3 sessions in a row talking about how she was grieving, and made me memorize facts about her grandmother so "she can live on through my clients."
i am a three's-a-charm kind of person. okay, so what if the last person made me uncomfortable. i figured it was just a misunderstanding of priorities - she had felt she was sharing with me, i had felt like i had to take care of her. i applied for another therapist.
the last woman asked me to help her pray. she bowed her head. i stared at her, frozen, while she said: lord, i beg you: cure her. take the pain of being gay away from her.
i spent somewhere between 2.5 and 3 months on betterhelp. in that whole time, i was not getting the professional help i so desperately needed, even though i was fucking trying.
in the end, i survived this because i finally could get off the meds that were literally killing me. a request for a real therapist finally went through. i survived because my friends saved my life. because nick let me sob myself dry in his arms. because maddie took the razors out of my room when i asked them to. because grace slept over in my bed for like 3 weeks in a row since nobody trusted me not to hurt myself when i was alone. i survived because i got fucking lucky. because even when i was desperately suicidal, i was too old and too self-aware to take "you need to be prettier" as good advice.
the thing is that there's a 19 year old me who isn't like that. who would have heard "just think about how grateful you should be" and said - oh, i see. i would have assumed that is what it means to be in therapy: the same thing my abusers used to tell me. that i am just pretending and lazy. that i am ugly and unworthy.
betterhelp positioned itself to take advantage of an incredibly vulnerable community. it preys on desperation. it knows it is serving people who are not doing well mentally. it saw that there is a huge need for real, immediate, compassionate mental health care: and then it fucking takes your money and privacy.
i still get their ads on instagram. last night i watched as a woman in a pool pretends to talk to a different woman. they discuss her anxiety.
there's a 19 year old version of me, and she didn't survive this. she was too tired, and drowning. i almost fucking died. this thing almost fucking killed me.
in the ad, the woman playing the therapist takes a note on a clipboard and then nods once, sagely.
i have to admit it's a pretty scene. the steam and light coming off the pool water lands on the actresses. like this, it almost looks baptismal, holy.
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So people once were calling me a terf, persecuting me just because I held some different opinion. After taking a break from social media, I've did some thinking, and I've came to accept this label as a part of who I am. I identify, inside and out, within the fibers if my soul, as a terf, and anyone who objects to this is being criticalphobic. After a while though, being so enshrined with terfness started exposing to me the many issues and hypocrisies terfs have, which I started rejecting. I just remembered I left my pizza in the oven, its burning uh
Eventually I realized that by rejecting trans people from society, I was arbitrarily drawing a line between what a person participating in society could be, completely discounting all the possible ways our biology I've so long revered could betray the labels our ancestors placed on ourselves. I stopped excluding trans people and started exclusively rejecting normal feminists, making me a ferf, until I walked outside and accidently talked to a guy and found they were normal. With no one familiar to belong to, I gave in and joined feminists and became a rfet.
Anyways do you want to hear about the time I almost drowned in a public water fountain
and the oscar for "best supporting anonymous bait" goes to....... whatever the fuck this is
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i love ur fics sm!! its my bday today and i was wondering if u could do a drabble on fem reader riding ellies strap. i can just imagine ellie getting absolutely pussy drunk on the sight alone.
happy birthday beautiful angel!
you’re so right about her getting pussy drunk. she’d be in a daze, fucking drooling all over herself watching the way it slides in and out of your cunt, the slick coating on the strap plus the way you clench on it would drive her up a wall. hands gripping onto your waist, guiding your hips up and down and back and forth. letting out a low “atta girl.” that sounds like she choked back a moan to get it out.
and there’d definitely be moments where she bucks up into you just to hear you moan and watch your body fall into hers. hands gripping onto her shoulders for some sort of balance. barely being able to catch your breath because you feel so fucking good. and she lovesssss making you feel so fucking good. eyes low while she bites her lip.
“you look so pretty on top babe. why don’t you be a good girl and make a beautiful mess for me to clean up?”
all while her hand slips down to spread your slick all over your clit, rubbing teasing circles. pushing you closer to the edge.
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Thinking about how, at the end of the day, at the fatal moment, the sunset of the Republic, it wasn’t Yoda, or Obi-Wan, or even the Chosen One himself standing in the way of Palpatine. It was Mace Windu.
Mace Windu, the inventor of Vaapad and Master of Form VII, the Jedi's strongest duelist, the only person to ever defeat Palpatine in combat. Mace Windu, Master of the Jedi Council and the youngest Master ever appointed to it, the revered leader of the Order. Mace Windu, who forgave even those who tried to kill him, who risked his life over and over again for his troops, who, after 3 years of desperate war, tried to negotiate with battle droids. Mace Windu, who knew the clones were created by the Sith and chose to trust them, who saw every Shatterpoint in the Republic, and loved it still, and fought for it until his last breath, until he was betrayed by Anakin, who he believed in and trusted despite everything.
Mace Windu, High General and hero of the Republic, the embodiment of the Light, the last and greatest champion of the Order, the best Jedi to ever live.
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