#cw suicidality

[borderline-culture-is]

// tw suicide ment //

bpd culture is being suicidal but your fp is having a rough time also so you don't tell them you're struggling because "they're more important than me anyway"

.

[carrymelikeimcute]

Izzy haters will be like:

"When Ed was acting all chirpy in S2 and cleaning up his cabin and acting like everything was fine and dandy, he was clearly suicidal and therefore everything he did should be forgiven because he was mentally ill"

and then in the same breath:

"When Ed was acting all chirpy in S1 and cleaning up the cabin acting like everything was fine and dandy and he was excited about the talent show, he was obviously FINE and it was mean old farmer Izzy who ruined his perfectly stable good mood."

[weaselbug]

full thoughts on dungeon meshi

gotta say, i absolutely loved it. every minute of it.

ive never been so enthralled into something that i read it for 3 days straight. helps that i was live blogging it. and you guys absolutely loved it, though. you guys didnt love my long posts about where i got to.

i want to talk about Mithrun (i think thats his name?)

CW: suicidal ideation, depression, and stuff

but I've never seen a piece of media actually capture the feeling of wanting to die but having the willpower to just keep going. I had experienced this after high school because well, I had kept telling my self that I would commit suicide after high school, I dont really like talking about it all that much, because it feels self pitying, but I'm so glad a character in something actually got that feeling into a character, like a just left confused and aimlessly existing after you thought for sure that you were going to die, and you wanted to. disappointment is what I would call it.

the only other piece of media that talks about that kind of thing well is evangelion, but only kind of...

END OF CONTEND WARNING

i just love how there was no fan service, because well. it doesn't serve the story at all. i mean there were a couple up tunic shots for senshi, but really i dont really count those. i also dont like the idea of celebrating the fact that it was just a guy character who got them, thats just as weird if someone was celebrating the fact that there were panty shots of the female characters. please stop.

i love how the curse was real from the winged lion, made Iaios repulsive to monsters. also i really love the winged lion. i loved how he really did seem like a good dude, and it didn't feel cheap too, at least to me.

i love how you can tell the authors love for fantasy, where its not just eastern fantasy but its also not just lord of the rings. and each monster has a reason for being. like the red dragon doesn't have wings, because well, why would it need to fly if it has fire breath?

although, somethings i dont really like is that there were no lizard folk, kind of weird i geuss? you'd think there would be some of those.

also feels like Laios kinda doesn't really lose anything? while I'm glad they went with getting farin back, i think the story would have been much better if the resurrection didn't work.

this is great, but now i kinda have no reason to watch the anime anymore lol. oops, ruined it for my self haha.

[temporal-discounting]

Just sobbing and thinking about how the first time we meet Ed, we see that he is at least passively suicidal. He is so utterly miserable performing the role of Blackbeard - treading water, waiting to drown.

He comes so close to escaping the existence that has been crushing the life out of him - and with the man he loves, no less! - only to be forced back into it.

What choice does he have to return to a life that left him feeling utterly hollow? A life that forced him to constantly see and inflict violence just to survive. And so he does. And it kills him.

And that despair - that belief that this is all there is for him - leads us here.

I think it's really telling that even after he chooses to live, he would give up the love of his life rather than continue being a pirate. Though of course, Stede doesn't force him into that choice, instead meeting Ed where he is.

I hate that we won't get a S3, but I so love that we were left with Ed in a safe place where he can heal and feel loved.

[flxshy]

@taleswritten

Below the cut is graphic depictions of SH and SI read at your own discretion

Angelic weapons did little to hurt the king, but pain was pain. So there the king of hell was, Carmilla Carmine blade held firmly in his hand. Haggard breath leaving him as the blade pressed into his shoulder, feeling the flesh tear and the golden blood wet his white top.

Why couldn't he just leave as well?

Everyone else had just picked up and left, left him behind in this big empty castle. He had fallen much farther than Sera had originally threw him, limbs scarred and blistered from burning up, creating the crater that was now hell.

He had protected Lilith from most of the damage, and where was she now? Not here. Where was his darling daughter? Not here.

A gasp left him as the blade left his shoulder. Blood staining his white pants. It wasn't enough, it never was. The pain would always return much more amplified than before. He would lose track of where he was, what day it was. Brain only focused on making those stupid ducks that littered his room.

The blade turns, and with a flick of his wrist golden blood splattered across the room. Across the ducks stacked against the wall. He would have to clean that later, but for now he needed something new.

The blade now pressed against the middle of his chest, right above where his heart would be.... would be... before Sera stole it from him. Slowly sinking the blade into his chest as there came a knock on the door, unheard as the blood filled his mouth.

This was much easier to handle than whatever darkness his mind could conjure up.

[mintflavouredwhump]

TW mentions of death, suicidal thoughts

//

An immortal whumpee realising the downsides of their endless lifespan.

Not only do they outlive their loved ones but have to deal with time slowly blurring the outlines of those wonderful memories until Whumpee has to struggle to remember their faces or the sound of their voice. Maybe they dislike forming new relationships in case they forget about them as well.

Permanence and stability is a luxury they can never afford. People die, countries fall and languages vanish. Whumpee has to constantly change and evolve if they want to keep up with the world.

Even when they wish for death, they have no choice but to keep on living and hurting.

[screampotato]

I just want to remark, in relation to some of the discussions I'm seeing online today:

- Feeling suicidal is a medical emergency. There is no shame in it, but if you're feeling this way, you need to get help right away. It's not to be messed with. Your brain is sending a signal that it needs help urgently, please act on that by seeking help and support.

- If somebody I know is experiencing this, I'll do whatever I can to get them the help they need, Utimately, I can't control what happens next, any more than for any other life-threatening health problem. We do what we can, and that's all we can do.

- If somebody I DON'T know is experiencing this, e.g. a celebrity, I will have empathy, but I won't pretend that it's up to me to try and fix the situation. It is important to be respectful and take stock when you hear somebody is in danger from a life-threatening health problem, but equally, if they're not somebody you actually know or have any influence on, that's about as much as you can do, and as much as you need to do.

- If somebody is in danger from a life-threatening health condition, while also being justifiably criticised for doing something harmful, one doesn't cancel out the other. If you feel like it does, that's probably because your criticism was at least partly based on dehumanising the other person, and you now feel you can't continue doing that because their vulnerability has humanised them. But criticism - even very serious criticism - should never be based in dehumanisation. You can respect somebody's basic humanity, feel empathy for their troubles and solidarity with their mortality, at the same time as telling the truth about their behaviour.

I hope this helps. I feel like a lot of confusing feelings related to mental health are easier for me to process when I compare it to other health problems and how I react to those. Ultimately, suicidal ideation is a dangerous health problem which needs to be dealt with by the sufferer, the people close to them, and the organisations that provide help and support in these situations.

[swindlefingrs]

one of the things i hate the most as a fat person is that i don't get to have a mundane relationship with food

i'm not allowed to enjoy any of it, not the smells, the tastes, the processes, the stories, the gathering to eat, none of it.

i got asked by my dr to go get blood tests and i got the results yesterday

the tests that came back a point or two high for are all normal for people with PCOS but I just know I'm not getting out of her office without a meal plan or a lecture to not oversalt my home made chicken stock (no joke this is something a dr had told me)

i've starved + exercised myself down 100 lbs and it made me nothing but suicidal - especially after seeing how I was treated better and listened to. it's the only way I was able to get my depression diagnosis.

long story short i H A T E going to the doctor and i need to find one who's worked with PCOS

i'm not looking for advice, just wanting to vent and commiserate - i know im not the only person with a strained relationship with the medical industry

[yuusakuhanazawashole]

Going for the cheap joke, but fuck it, whatever. Ogata spoilers under the cut. Also cw for suicidality.

[nicolethered]

Joel tells Ellie about his shooting in 1x09 Look for the Light

[borderline-culture-is]

BPD culture is wanting to kill myself because i feel so empty and alone all the time and nothing ever gets better.

.

[dailydarcycarden]

She's so relatable

[ammoniteflesh]

15 Lines of Dialogue: Ghila Mahariel

Thank you for the tag, @theluckywizard!! I opted for Ghila - which was a challenge, because she doesn't tend to wax poetic. I dipped into the as-yet-unpublished bits of TPoAB for this, so consider this a ~sneak preview~. Also: CW for suicidality.

Rules: Share 15 or fewer lines of dialogue from an OC, ideally lines that capture the character/personality/vibe of the OC. Bonus points for just using the dialogue without other details about the scene, but you're free to include those as well! No-pressure tagging: @dragonologist-phd @breadedsinner @queenaeducan and @transprincecaspian!

I almost died. Twice. I was force-fed Darkspawn blood. I keep seeing things when I close my eyes. All blood and guts and music louder than I can think. My whole life… the shape of it. It’s all different now.

I don’t know much, I’m afraid. None of us do. But… I know enough to teach, just a little. If you want to learn.

Yes, we’ll help. Mythal willing. We'll get you through this.

This is the longest I have ever been around shem- humans. Have you seen the state they’re in? I’m not cowering. I’d never cower. But I’m behind enemy lines, and I need them not to hate me, and there’s nothing I can do.

I spent half of Ostagar distraught and the other half unconscious.

Oh, Creators, lethallin. Lethallin. I missed you. How has it been so long?

No, I’m sure. I could feel it. I could feel the Blight in the act.

Losing you. It hurts me. Every day. It’s like I lost myself. And I don’t know who I’ve been, since then. But it hasn’t been me. It hasn’t been your lethallan. It’s been somebody else.

What do you want me to say? I’m tired. I’m ready for the end.

Maybe, just maybe. This wasn’t about you at all.

Frankly, I hate you all.

Let me end it. Please. Please just let me die.

It’s good. To have another elf here. Kind of.

If you want to talk about Duncan – I… I don't know if I can make myself mourn him. But I can listen. I'm willing to do that much.

You’re right. I’m not [sorry].

[dreamwatch]

STWG daily drabble - 03/10/23

Prompt: Rehab

cw: alcoholism, depression, mention of suicidal ideation (no specifics), mention of scars, mentions of rehab, cw infidelity

****

Thirty days. He’d done thirty days.

They hadn’t been apart for that long… well, ever, now that he thought about it. While they weren’t really a thing when they left Hawkins, they were something. EddieandSteve, SteveandEddie, that weird coming together of two people so diametrically opposed that their friends and relatives still remarked on it now, twenty years later. The weirdest Ying and Yang ever, as Robin would say.

That they’d made it to twenty years, technically twenty years, four months and eighteen days, not that he’s counting, that they’d made it that long boggled even his mind. They always assumed that the scars, the ones people could see and the ones they couldn’t, would end up creating a fissure. That the fault line was there and the wrong comment, the wrong action would just tear it open and all the pain, all the emotional baggage would just gush out and drown them.

There were times, very occasional times, when the fault line cracked open a little and their feet got wet. The first time Eddie left, back in ninety three, so depressed and ground down by the world that they both thought he was going to do something stupid. Very nearly did something stupid. The depression was still there, they’d accepted it now, they just managed it as they went. They were a team. That’s how they coped.

Or when Steve, so exhausted by Eddie’s extreme moods, that he spent more and more time at work and less and less time at home. Spent more time with a work mate than he did with Eddie. Spent enough time with her that they ended up in her bed. That one nearly finished them off for good. But it’d been seven years since then, and they kept working at it, and it kept getting easier.

Scars were permanent reminders of an event. They both learned to deal with the physical ones a long time ago. Steve’s had faded enough that public swimming pools didn’t phase him anymore, but Eddie’s still looked angry on his pale skin even after all this time. So they rented private homes on vacation, places with pools so that Eddie could swim, skin to the air and water, without worrying about anyone looking.

But it had been the invisible ones that had cast the longest shadows over the last twenty years (and four months and eighteen days, not that he’s counting). The ones they’d both finally accepted they’d never truly be free from. The scars that made themselves known during the neighbourhood firework display. Or when a flock of birds flew across the sky, dark wings and caws as they swooped overhead.

The ones that left them wrung out and exhausted from nightmares so often that they took turns using the guest room so that at least one of them could get a good nights sleep. Not all the time, they wanted to be there for each other, needed to be there as much as they could. But they were barrelling into their forties (where did the time go?). They couldn’t operate the way they did when they first got together, they actually needed sleep to function now. And in Eddie’s case it wasn’t just about functioning, it was about keeping his mood somewhat on an even keel. It was about keeping him from places they couldn’t pull him back from. So yeah, a spare bed was a necessity in their home.

Sometimes the pain from those scars could be dulled, though. Weed. Prescription painkillers.

Alcohol.

It had been thirty one days since his last drink. 

The first week was fucking horrific, but he got through it. Just had to remember what he had at home. And the fact that it was court ordered rehab and he didn’t have a choice. He got lucky after the first DUI. Technically he got lucky after the second one. It could have been jail.

He felt… good? It’d been a while since he’d been this sober this long. He looked better, less sallow. He’d been eating better, too. He was filling out his clothes in places he hadn’t even noticed got loose. There were lots of things he hadn’t noticed.

He signed the release paperwork and picked up his bag before heading outside to the horrible bright orange Ford Ranger. He’d suggest getting a new car, but he wasn’t going to be driving anywhere for a while.

“Hey you,” he said, all casual like he hadn’t been away detoxing, having therapy, and generally crying and moaning for the last thirty days.

“‘Hey you’? That’s what you’re going with? ‘Hey you’?” 

He shrugged, a shy smile pulled at the corner of his mouth.

“Get your ass over here, Harrington.”

It hit him all at once, the shame and the realisation of what he risked, what he could have lost. The last twenty years (and four months and eighteen days, not that he’s counting) with this man, with Eddie. His Eddie. All the good days, all the bad ones, all the boring ones in between.

EddieandSteve. SteveandEddie. 

“Oh, it’s Harrington, now?” Steve choked out, voice thick, eyes wet.

Eddie shook his head, “Come here.” They grabbed at each other like they were drowning, each of them a life raft for the other. 

“Let’s go home,” said Eddie.

Steve could only nod, out of words, overwhelmed. It wasn’t over. It wasn’t done just because he spent thirty days in rehab. It would be forever, like Eddie’s depression. But they’d coped with that, and Eddie told him they’d cope with this and he believed him. They’ve got this. 

They’re a team.

[lesspopped]

haven’t gotten any cleaning done OR any lying on the couch because instead I’ve spent the last half hour or so crying on the phone with my parents and with [city] behavioral health emergency line because my brother texted to say he was going to kill himself

[shera-dnd]

Early last year I was in a bad place. Just full of anxiety and dread about my future. I felt like a burden, and like I always made things worse just by being there. I didn't wanna be me anymore.

And back then I tried to take matters into my own hands.

In the end I survived with little more than a scar on my left arm and a pair of very frightened parents. I started anti depressants soon after, and after a year of therapy I'm happy to say that I've not considered suicide again ever since.

I'm happier now, and I know that I am enough.

Earlier this year I saw a story of a girl who was in a bad place. Just full of anxiety and dread about her future. She felt like a burden, and like she always made things worse just by being there. She didn't want to be her anymore.

And then she tried to take matters into her own hands.

She survived too. She was offered countless choices as to who she could become, and in the end she chose herself.

She was happier now, and she knew she was enough.

So today, to celebrate a birthday I nearly didn't have, I've decided to immortalize mine and that girl's struggle on my skin.

I've covered the scar on my arm with a tattoo of the leaves of the great tree, so that when I look down at myself I will not see the scars of what was nearly my greatest mistake, but a reminder of the most important message I could ever get

I am enough