#fuck i LOVE my manic episodes when it's not a mania about something stupid or just an agitated state

[quatari]

i think i might have caught a mania stage fixated on work. holy hell am i lucky. life is good. being mental is great. i am so productive im going to fucking idk. earn money I guess. and be my best self

[gallavictorious]

I saw your tags and I think you might need to write that fic of Ian and Mickey recreating their first time when Ian gets a tire iron. 🧐☺️

Okay, so this took me a hot minute, and I did it as a kind of speedwrite so it's rather short and not exactly thought out. I also went off (my own) script a little bit and it got unexpectedly sappy there for a moment... But! Have 1,4k very silly words of Ian and Mickey roleplaying their first proper get together because Mickey gave Ian a tire iron. I hope you enjoy it, dear one – thank you so much for the prompt! I had unexpected fun with it. ❤️

(Oh, and tags in questions are the ones on this post, so all credit to @jenatte for providing the original inspiration.)’

ETA: It’s on AO3 now too.

---

Ow. The fuck?

Reluctantly, Mickey blinked awake. The bright light suggested it was already near noon, but that wasn't what had woken it, that wasn't–

It came again: a hard poke to his back. Not the good kind, either, of Ian pressing his hard-on against Mickey's rear while they were snuggled close, but something cold and sharp. Insistent.

”What the fuck?” Mickey groaned, rolling over on his side and peering up at–

–his husband standing over him with... a fucking tire iron in his hands? Not just any tire iron either, but the one Mickey had gotten him as a gift for their anniversary as a mix of a joke, sentimentality and practicality; it was how they started, sure, and meaningful for it, but also a damn good thing to have, no home was complete without it. He thought that maybe Ian had overlooked the practial aspects, though, in favour of going a little misty-eyed before he started dropping half-assed quips about hard lenghts and Mickey had to roll his eyes and punch his husband in the arm a little bit.

Now Mickey's brow furrowed further as he tried to make sense of the scene. For a brief, terrifying moment, apprehension siezed his gut: was Ian having a manic episode, seeing enemies where there was none? But no; though he feigned a fearsome scowl, there was that glitter in Ian's eyes and a small quirk to his lips that spoke little of mania and everything of being a fucking dork and a tease.

”Give me the gun, Mickey,” he intoned, and Mickey was about to ask again what the hell and what fucking gun and maybe are you feeling okay man because perhaps Mickey didn't have quite as good a read on his husband as he thought he had–

–and then he got it, memory reasserting itself, and he could feel the fucking grin growing on his face quite of its own accord. He'd have felt stupid for not immediately catching on, but give him a fucking break, he'd been sleeping two seconds ago and his days of waking up with a start and ready to fight were slowly and thankfully becoming a thing of the past.

Ian's faux frown broke, as he was unable to contain an answering smile. He seemed inordinately pleased with himself, and with Mickey for getting it. Mickey would tell him he was a fucking idiot, but Ian looked so expectant that Mickey decided to play along instead. No harm in a little weird roleplay to make his husband happy, right?

Besides, it wasn't like Ian standing over him and looking vaguely threatening and very hot didn't do it for Mickey on several levels.

”Okay, fine,” he said, climbing to his feet while doing his very best to appear drowsy and uninterested. It had been instinctive back then, the plan of lulling the irate kid into a false sense of security before pouncing on him and kicking his teeth in for having the fucking gall to march into Mickey's room and demand things.

Mickey made a show of slowly turning towards the nightstand, just as he had all those years ago. He could feel Ian's eyes track his every movement, ready to react to the sneak attack he knew was coming. There'd be no taking him by surprise this time.

His face turned away and unseen, Mickey smiled. Or would it?

He grabbed hold of the bottle of lube on the table and spun around to throw it at Ian's head, took a quick step up and to the side, and as Ian gave a short yelp and involuntary raised his hands to protect his face, Mickey rushed him from the side to push him down on the bed. Ian went with a thud and an oof and Mickey didn't hesitate; he was on his husband in a second, straddling his chest and wrestling the tire iron from him grip.

”What the hell, Mick?” Ian demanded, not bothering to struggle but glaring up at Mickey with wide reproachful eyes. ”This isn't how it went!”

Mickey grinned. ”How it went is I kicked your scrawny ass,” he said smugly. ”Now, how am I gonna do that if you know which way I'm gonna move?”

”I was going to let you win!” Ian protested.

Mickey's eyebrows rose. ”Oh, you were gonna let me, huh?”

”Yeah,” Ian said slowly, eyes narrowing, ”I was going to let you.” And with that he grabbed hold of Mickey's arms and pushed him to the side while using his greater body weight as leverage to flip them around.

”Fucker,” Mickey spat, kicking at Ian's shins. He dropped the tire iron – not like he was actually going to hit Ian with it – to have both his hands free for a renewed assault on his sneaky little shit of a husband, but Ian had already wrapped his his stupidly big hands around Mickey's wrists and was pushing him down into the mattress, grinning triumphantly while Mickey struggled and squirmed beneath him.

”Guess I had a change of heart,” Ian said.

Mickey stilled, biting at his bottom lip as he considered. He was pretty sure he could still take Ian if he really wanted to, mostly on account of him being a ruthless motherfucker with no interest whatsoever in fighting fair. However, that required a level of playing dirty and pulling nasty jabs that went far beyond what he felt comfortable doing to his husband these days.

”Uh-huh, and what's the plan now, genius?” he demanded, opting for snark instead of violence.

Ian didn't answer. The look in his eyes had shifted from triumphant to something thoughtful, and softer.

”Do you think it'd have gone the same way if it'd been me on top of you instead of the other way around back then?” he wondered aloud.

Mickey made a face. It fucking figured that his sap of a husband would turn a promising round of foreplay into a game of sentimental what-if.

”I dunno,” he said, wriggling his hips a little to remind Ian that there were otherstuff they could be doing right now, stuff way more exciting than having a goddamn conversation. ”Does it fucking matter? It didn'thappen like that, and it never would have happened like that either, 'cause back then I didn't give a shit about fucking you up too bad, so I'd bashed your fucking brains out before letting get on top of me.”

He wanted to bite his tongue as soon as he'd said it, but it was too late: Ian's eyes had lit up and his thoughtful look transformed into a smirk. ”Well, I mean,” he drawled, leaning down to put his mouth to Mickey's neck, just for a moment, just a little bit of teeth in the brief touch.

”Fuck off,” Mickey said, but he was laughing. Ian's weight pinning him down was as exciting as it was annoying, as it was grounding.

Ian just hummed. He'd straightened again and was gazing down on Mickey with a look that was so damned fond it made a small blush work its way up Mickey's neck.

”I think we'd have ended up here anyway,” Ian decided. ”Somehow.”

”Oh yeah?”

”Yeah.”

Soft smiles then, as something warm and happy bloomed in Mickey's chest. For a moment, they just looked at each other, eyes resting on the face each of them knew best, loved best.

Ian let go of Mickey's wrist to put his hand on the side of his head, fingers tangling in Mickey's hair as Ian ran a thumb over his husband's cheek. He bent down again, but this time to capture Mickey's lips in a long, lingering kiss.

”I think I was always going to have you,” Ian murmured as they broke apart, forehead pressed against forehead.

A second later he yelped in surprised outrage as Mickey took advantage of his lapse in vigilance to grab hold of his hair and yank his head sharply to the side while pushing up to get Ian off him and halfway down onto the floor. Mickey followed him with a snicker, and off they went again, tousling and laughing and absolutely heedless of any noise they might make.

[neeharlow]

Nee’s Bipolar Life: Part One

Since it’s disability pride month I thought I’d tell you about the time a male doctor tried to take away my bipolar diagnosis. (tldr: a bit about the struggles I faced growing up with bipolar and how a shit head tried to take away my diagnosis after only just meeting me and reading my file)

It took five years to finally pin down a diagnosis. My bipolar was always there, now that I look back. All those times I was surrounded by any toy I could possibly want but was “bored” all the time when I was very young I realize now was my first signs of depression. I’d lay on my bedroom floor and just stare up at the ceiling for hours, it wasn’t that I had nothing to do, I just didn’t find anything worth doing. So all those times I was “bored”, there were a lot of them, it was the depression. Then the times I would be awake for sometimes days at a time, talking nonstop, feeling invisible, and running around like a child jacked up on sugar I see now that was the first signs of mania. And my parents didn’t really do anything cause they didn’t know anything about mental illness. As I grew I began acting out. 

My first time being in a mental hospital came when I was 12. I was bullied mercilessly at school and I wanted to kill myself. I told the counsel and she told my parents to take me down. I was there for a three day hold. It was at this time that I had my first prescription for zoloft. I released and looking back they released me cause I was happy. But I realize now that, because zoloft can do this (and has done it to me in recent years) when it’s by itself in bipolar people that it had sent me into a manic episode. But to my parents I was just really, really, really happy and after seeing my so miserable for so long they were happy too. 

The first doctor they took me to was a man. I don’t remember his name. But he misdiagnosed me (I don’t remember with what I was 12 and I am now 32 years old, it’s been a while.) and put me on a drug called neurontin. It seemed to work a while. But then something happened and I was hospitalized again. I don’t remember for what, but I am pretty sure it was suicide related. Anyway, the next time I saw him he says: “Well if she wanted to kill herself she would not have {don’t remember} instead she would have just taken down a while bottle of pills.” with me right there in the room. Parents were PISSED. Never went back to him. 

As they years went by things changed. For the worse. When I turned 14 my parents confessed to my that I was abandoned when I was three. I had always known that they were my grandparents, but they had raised me telling that my mother loved me, she just couldn’t take care of me. That fucked with my head. Although I understand why my parents lied, it still fucked me up mentally. This was also during a time I was being treated for anorexia. Which, I didn’t fucking have anorexia. I will live and die on that fucking hill. If anything they convinced me I had it and I went along with it so I could be done. I didn’t care about my weight. Yes, I ate once a day. I was in high school at the time and I’d rather hang out with my friends than eat. I passed out day three of High School and they did some tests and found that I had been “abusing laxatives” and concluded I had anorexia. No. When I was in fifth grade I was so constipated they had to stick a tube down my nose to give me some liquid super laxatives. I hadn’t gone to the bathroom for a couple days before I had passed out and took a bunch of them in fear that I would have to go through that again. That was just bad timing. But as you’ll learn it wasn’t the first time doctors have fucked me

As I grew older my bipolar worsened. I began being extremely impulsive and promiscuous with boys in my neighborhood. But because I hadn’t been diagnosed with anything my parents just thought I was just a rebellious teenager. My birth day, their son, had these issues too apparently so they had gone through this before. (btw he probably had bipolar too but never got diagnosed which is why he ended up killing himself but I’ll get to that in another post.) They tried buying books about misbehaving teens and sending me to a bunch of therapists. One fucking cunt even tried to tell them to send me to military school, which I swear to you, I would have killed myself. No I’m not being dramatic. I would have straight up killed myself in some dumb scheme to ‘get back at them’. 

When I was 15 they finally sent me to see female doctor. She diagnosed me after three visits. Got me started on some pills and I began to level out. Now I wasn’t exactly better, but I wasn’t jumping between depressed and mania constantly. I was still impulsive but not nearly as bad. But I had finally gotten a diagnosis. I still had to be hospitalized in a mental hospital and go to group therapy things but that’s just something I had to do. 

Fast forward to when I was 21. I wanted to kill myself. So again I was hospitalized. Also, when I’m hospitalized I’m usually pretty chill. I’m calm, respectful, and I listen and do whatever thing they need me to do. Enter Dr. Fuck Face. After reading my file, (not even talking to me.) I am called into a meeting with him and four other doctors. He looks at me, how calm I am. And he says to me: “I don’t believe you have bipolar, you just make terrible decisions.”  I blinked a few times and gave him a look of confusion. He had never met me before this moment. He only had read my file. I told him, “I don’t think that’s right.” he shook his head and said, “You don’t have bipolar.” and excused me. I left the room and I was released the next day. I had to go through a group therapy thing after that, and I told the woman doctor whet he had said. She shook her head in disbelief. 

The moral of today’s tale, Male doctors are full of themselves and if you’re a female and they say some stupid shit, get a second opinion from a female doctor.

[ayatosmlktea]

I saw your post about Crazy Levi can I make a request on when reader and Levi has been dating for more than 3 years but one day they get into a horrible car crash and Levi smashed his head making him bipolar and reader did everything in their power to help him but nothing was working and he had to go to a mental hospital. Angst plz 😂😓

TW: Self-Harm, Mentions of Suicide, Depression, Mania, Bipolar disorder. Please read at your own risk.

𝑵𝒐 𝑯𝒂𝒑𝒑𝒚 𝑬𝒏𝒅𝒊𝒏𝒈

The accident had changed their lives completely, it just had to happen on one of their worst days. They had been so busy yelling at each other, fighting over something that was now so stupid and insignificant that Y/N hadn’t been focused enough to avoid the oncoming collision due to another driver running a red light. The crash hadn’t really been her fault, but her attention had been so focused on proving Levi wrong that she felt like everything that happened after was because of her petty tantrum. It was the universe’s way of saying that her habit of fighting over nothing was going to come back around to wreak havoc and destruction in its wake.

Y/N had managed to walk away with a minor concussion and a few broken bones but Levi had been less lucky. It had been three weeks since their accident and he still hadn’t woken up. She had cried until all that her body could do was feel like it was collapsing in on itself. Her eyes were constantly bloodshot and to anyone she might have seemed high, but she was preparing for the day the doctors would tell her that Levi would never walk up again. She never left his bedside unless absolutely necessary and even then the nurses would have to drag her out of his room.

“I’ve never prayed in my life and I must seem like the biggest hypocrite ever but if there’s anyone up there listening…please just give him back to me. I swear I’ll never start stupid arguments again just let him wake up” She had lost count of how many nights she’d spent pleading to whatever omnipotent being was listening to her desperate cries for help. All she wanted was to see his beautiful stormy eyes open again so she could apologize and beg for his forgiveness.

Her prayers were answered shortly after, it was a miracle! That’s what the doctors had said, and Y/N would take it. Whatever conditions were attached to him waking up didn’t matter, Levi was finally back.

“There’s been significant damage to his frontal lobe. You might start noticing some changes in his personality, if it gets to a point where he becomes a danger to himself or you give this number a call.” Levi’s primary doctor handed her a small black business card. Sina Institute for Mental Health. The words settled in her stomach uncomfortably. She really wanted to believe that Levi wouldn’t change, maybe with time he’d recover from the trauma. Maybe the doctors were over-exaggerating, Levi was resilient he’d pull through!

               ____________________________________________

“Welcome home Y/N! I missed you so much, you’re not going to leave me are you?” The sing-songy voice that greeted her as she walked through the front door didn’t make her feel welcome at all. Levi’s recovery was going worse than she had ever expected. The man living with her was not someone she recognized at all anymore. She never knew which Levi she was going to come home to and it was starting to make her feel anxious as soon as she started her trek home. On top of their already pricy rent and other costs their expenses had quickly skyrocketed due to their medical bills and Levi’s medication. Levi was on sick leave from his job, still not at a satisfactory level of physical or mental well being to return to work fulltime meaning that Y/N was shouldering the majority of their bills.

“I’m not going to leave you, you know I’m doing overtime at work. I called you earlier to let you know I’d be home late.” Putting her bag on the counter she walked over to the fridge to pour herself a giant glass of wine.

“I was thinking that our place could use some new furniture don’t you think? So I ordered a bunch of stuff online! Isn’t that great?” Y/N had to fight the urge to vomit while her fingers gripped the neck of her glass tighter. The stress of having to juggle all of their bills was already stressing her out to the point of not being able to sleep at night and now Levi’s habit of impulsively maxing out their credit cards was becoming too much.

“Levi we talked about this, you’re not supposed to use the credit cards unless it’s an emergency” Y/N couldn’t hold back the long sigh that left her lips, everything was just becoming so pointless.

“I know but I was cleaning before and it just didn’t feel right.”

“What didn’t feel right?” She asks not really wanting to know the answer.

“I don’t know! I just feel like something big is going to happen soon and we need to clean this dump up” His cheerful words clawed at her gut, Levi was never one to spend money recklessly. While she wasn’t as much of a neat freak as he was; she still tried her best to keep their shared space as clean as possible knowing that his mania was easily triggered by the slightest mess.

“Did you take your medication today?”

“I don’t need them! I feel better, honestly!” Her eyes began to burn with tears of helplessness. She had thought she could help him work through the mess his head was in. Researching for hours on the internet for ways to make it easier on adjusting him to being on his own without throwing himself into a depressive fit.

She’d anonymously called the number the doctor had given her asking for possible diagnosis based on the symptoms Levi displayed within the past three months. While they weren’t able to give her an accurate diagnosis without actually talking to Levi they’d been fairly sure his symptoms were similar to that of Bipolar disorder.

Y/N didn’t want to accept it at first, the Levi she had fallen in love with was stubborn and strong-willed. If anything, he was the one who had held her together. He was always rational and now the tables had been turned, Levi was not Levi. His manic episodes made him jittery and impulsive. His depressive episodes had her on edge constantly, normally she could talk him down from doing something irreversible but it seemed like their luck had finally run out.

                 ____________________________________________

Y/N had come home later than she had intended, it was well past midnight and she knew Levi was going to be up waiting for her to come back. She had tried calling his phone but he wasn’t picking up. She bit her lip nervously, it was never a good thing when he didn’t answer his phone. Her hands were shaking with anxiety when she unlocked the door. The apartment was dark and quiet yet something lurking in the darkness was screaming at her to turn away and walk away. Flicking the lights on the sight of drops of blood trailing from the kitchen into the hallway had the hairs on the back of her neck standing.

“Levi!” She called out not bothering to remove her shoes as she followed the trail leading to their bedroom. Holding her breath she pushed open the door that was already ajar. Levi sat on the edge of their bed, his face covered with his hands and his shoulders trembling slightly.

“Levi?” Cautiously she approached him, her fight or flight response ringing like a siren in her ear to get out. His head shot up at the sound of her frightened voice, eyes red and wet with tears.

“You promised!” His tone was accusing and all too loud for her to feel remotely safe.

“I’m really sorry! I didn’t mean to get home so late! Did you hurt yourself?” Trying to stay calm enough to let him allow her to get close to him was proving to be more difficult as each second ticked by.

“I don’t want to live if you’re going to leave me! Tell me you aren’t going to leave me!” The crimson stains on his shirt and their bedsheets had Y/N on the verge of a panic attack. She couldn’t help him on her own anymore.

“I’m not going to leave you. Please let me help you, you’re bleeding everywhere!” Hysteria was creeping into her throat, every minute that she watched the shell of the man she used to know made her heart pound uncomfortably in her chest.

“I don’t need your help! I don’t need anyone’s help! You think I don’t see the way you look at me? Like I’m some kind of monster? Like a fucking freak!” Tears streamed down her cheeks as he began screaming at her.

“I don’t think you’re a monster” she choked out in between sobs trying to catch her breath. Her hands reached out to him hoping that physical affection would help calm him down. Instead Levi violently shoved her out of his way to lock himself in the bathroom.

“Levi let me help you please!” She shouted banging her fists against the door uncaring of how loud she was being. Her head started to feel light headed as she began to hyperventilate. Through blurry eyes and with shaking fingers she called for an ambulance.

                 ____________________________________________

Levi had screamed that he hated her several times that night before the paramedics had given him a sedative. His voice infiltrated her dreams, every night she’d wake up to the image of his blood on her hands. It had been a few weeks since she’d admitted him to the psych ward, as much as she loved him she couldn’t bring herself to face him. Y/N was consumed by guilt, she’d sit in her car for hours outside the institute before going back home. There wasn’t anything she could say that would make up for her failed attempts at helping him. She had promised Levi that she wouldn’t leave him but it seemed like sometimes promises had to be broken.

Masterlist

[naturaldisasterfanfiction]

31. Part 3

Switching the monitor on “I saw the family, gave Monica a hug. One of the biggest hugs, she said that her daughter is an Angel, she did something she could never do. She was singing praises at the store, it was cute. They all want to see the baby Robby” I chuckled “you know what, Chris and I with Fenty will come and see Barbados, and I don’t mind the family seeing her. And when I say family I mean my hometown; I know everyone is waiting to see her. You want to quickly switch to FaceTime and I can show you her, she is asleep” Mel cackled “all you bitches do is sleep, Chris was causing hell and you was both asleep” I hate Mel is laughing but it’s not funny “listen yeah, I’m going to get back to my usual self. I just need to rest my body; you try and give birth to a seven pound baby bitch!” I spat, answering the FaceTime “woo! We see she face, look at my sister. You still got the double chin girl” I gasped “say what!? Chris called me a kangaroo, I’ve been lazy sis not going to lie” angling the camera better “see, I can work it. I don’t know what to show, my chin or my forehead. I hate you; does it look like I gained weight?” Mel is annoying “she put weight on, won’t lie to you baby. But it’s baby weight, show me my baby now bitch. We sick of seeing you” rolling my eyes flicking the camera over “Fenty is asleep while her parents scream at each other” Mel cooed out “she is so beautiful!! Robyn she a little miss thing, she looks fed up. That bald up fist is telling me words!” I laughed at Mel, she is so stupid “it’s ok, auntie baby. I got you. I’m coming for you child!!” She is so loud for no reason “shut up, anyways I am going to have it out with Chris” walking off “keep me on the phone, for entertainment reasons” disconnecting the FaceTime, I think the fuck not.

With the monitor in hand, I figured I would go to the garage. Chris did mention it so I guess I go there first, I hope he is there. My intention is not what he thinks, he has to believe that. I am calm about this because I’m beyond the point of shouting about this, I see Drake has nothing to me so there is that. The elevator pinged and so did my phone, looking down at the message. It’s Drake, unlocking my phone and reading the message ‘You wanted this, here it is’ he added a link to sound cloud, he did it. That man is beyond in love with me and I honestly can’t cope with it, I did use him for that and yet again I am, but I do not care for him. Seeing Chris in the office from the glass door, he is huffing and puffing, like where the fuck did he get these boxes of shit from. I need to really get my ass in gear, I just don’t want Chris angry at me I didn’t mean to upset him when I was trying to help him because I know he is not lying about that shit, it did happen. I don’t even want to interrupt him, but he is scowling so much, let me suck it up and try and get Chris to see my side of what happened, I hope he can anyways because I didn’t mean it. Watching Chris from afar, watching him get annoyed at himself for no reason as he tried to make the spray can work and then accidentally sprayed the glass window, he doesn’t make things easy because what if I were to move. Mine and Chris’ eyes both met but he wasn’t angry, his face softened which made me feel a little better.

Pulling open the glass door “can we talk? Or do you not feel like it and you want more time alone?” I asked, I ask because I don’t want to just barge in and he’s not ready to talk “I hurt my hand” he said while looking down at his hand “you didn’t” I said walking into the office space “not on purpose, when I was going down the stairs my hand caught the side” he is such a liar “is there a hole in the wall in this house” lightly holding his hand, he punched the wall “it’s nothing, I mean it happened. I’m calm now” looking up at Chris “clearly, where did you do this though?” It’s a little sore but you can tell he punched the wall once “bathroom, it’s marble. I ain’t make no hole” frowning at him “that makes it better, your temper is bad Chris but we need to talk, if we can go out of this place and sit upstairs” Chris nodded his head, clearly that punch to the wall has calmed him but it’s still stupid “my hand really hurts though, like look at it” placing the baby monitor on the table before holding his hand in mine and then resting my free hand a top of his “does that hurt?” I asked, “feels sore” bringing his hand up to me and pressing a kiss to the back of his hand before placing it just on my cheek “I mean this could totally make it worse, do you feel like you broke it?” Chris shook his head “it’s ok, just sore” nodding my head “you make me sad Chris, come. Let’s go upstairs” I said to him, I think we need a good talk “I just want to sleep, can I go to sleep?” nodding my head “of course you can, do you want me to wake you before New Year?” he nodded his head “I just want a nap” he has hurt his hand and is now tired “nap on the couch, put something frozen on your knuckles. Does that sound good?” maybe the nap may be good for him.

I feel so out of my depth with this and I thought I would get some advice; sad part is I can’t ask his family. I can’t even ask someone that knows him because nobody does know him or know his moods, so this is new to me, this is new to them I guess even though they have spent all that time with him. It does kill me to think he has nobody that knows him, I can’t ring his mom and say what is his mood like, what do I do because the bitch doesn’t even know so I am ringing this UK help, I need some insight on what to do because I mean now he is like just calm as hell, I am going to try and hide my accent but you never know “uh hi” I feel all nervous now, I mean I hope they don’t want details “yeah so I am Noelle, and my partner has Bipolar and just recently we have moved in so like I don’t actually know what his moods are like. He has ADHD also with that. I found this number and it’s luckily twenty four hours but I just need help understanding him, like I don’t get it” if he starts asking for names and stuff I am going to have to stop this call “that is fine, we are here for all advice and help in this matter. I am Michael, have you both just recently got married then?” he asked “yeah, and moved in. Like I know he had this illness, I wasn’t blind with it but it’s understanding it” this guy has a nice Scottish accent “does he take medication at all? He does take it” pulling a face “uh yes, we recently just had a baby. Like she is a week old, he was so good during then, no issues at all but like I would say two days ago he just fell off” I need help with this because, how do I even deal with it or do I just leave him alone.

“So It’s tough to go through the mood swings of bipolar disorder. It is very complexed to even explain but depression plays a big factor in this because the person with this mental health struggle themselves to understand why the change, they can make it hard to do the things you want and need them to do. During manic periods, they may be reckless and volatile. The best way to avoid mood swings is to get treatment which he has done but you may not be able to totally prevent bouts of mania or depression. Even people who always take their medication and take care of their health can still have mood swings from time to time. That's why it's important to catch changes in their mood, energy levels, and sleeping patterns before they turn into something serious. Mood episodes in bipolar disorder often happen suddenly, for no particular reason. You said everything was and is fine but sometimes, you may notice that there are specific things that can trigger mania or depression, such as getting too little sleep, changes to their daily routine. Many people find they're more likely to become depressed or manic during stressful times at work or during holidays. Some people see seasonal patterns to their mood changes” this is a lot “wow” is all I said “it’s very complexed” he is not wrong “it’s daunting for you and you shouldn’t be hard on yourself for feeling like that, if you need further help I can assist if you feel threatened?” shaking my head “no, he said he is having nap” well that is what he said anyways “is he sleeping well at night? It’s important for them to sleep, clear thoughts, clear mind?” he said, “he hasn’t been sleeping, for the days he’s been like that at all, why is it important for sleep?” I questioned “the less they sleep they are going through a mood change, usually mania. The more they sleep, it’s more depression phase. They need to have stability in their sleep, get the hours because their mind is working overtime, it’s hard for them to be ok in a room full of people that don’t think like them. But they do battle themselves more then you would know” that really made me sad.

I sighed out heavily “how can I help? Like in general anyways, I want to learn about it? We just moved here too” I thought I would add that “Caring for someone with bipolar disorder can be extremely hard, whether you’re a partner, parent, child, or friend of someone who has this condition. It’s stressful for everyone it touches. It’s tough to strike a balance. You want to be supportive and empathetic because you know the person with bipolar disorder isn’t to blame for their illness. But their behaviour may affect you, and you have to take care of yourself and your needs, not just theirs” flicking the tear that fell, this makes me emotional “so I can give you some tips which you are doing now which is learn. The more you know, the better. Listen. Pay attention to what your loved one has to say. Don't assume that you know what they are going through. Don’t dismiss all of their emotions and feelings as signs of their illness. Someone with bipolar disorder may still have valid points. Encourage them to stick with treatment. Your love one needs to take their bipolar medication and get regular check-ups or counselling. Notice their symptoms. They may not be able to see it as clearly as you do when their bipolar symptoms are active. Or they may deny it. When you see the warning signs of mania or depression, you can try to make sure they get help. Do things together. People who are depressed often pull away from others. So encourage your loved one to get out and do things they enjoy. Ask him to join you for a walk or a dinner out. If he says no, let it go. Ask again a few days later.”

“Express your own concerns. Since your loved one's behaviour can have a huge effect on you, it’s OK to discuss. Don’t blame the other person or list all of their mistakes. Instead, focus on how his actions make you feel and how they affect you. The most important thing is to take care of yourself. As intense as your loved one’s needs may be, you count, too. It’s important for you to stay healthy emotionally and physically Noelle” I am trying to take all this in but I can kind of understand “what’s up?” I jumped at Chris’ voice, turning around “thank you for that, I have got what I wanted” disconnecting the call “did you have a nap?” he shook his head, staring at Chris in sadness I just feel sad and it’s not that I hate what I have got myself into but this, what he has. It’s so horrible, and the fact I couldn’t call on his loved ones to help, I am so angry. I am angry at his mother, his father. They have failed him and me, I am having to do this now at his age because nobody cared, I am cleaning her mess “before it’s a New Year, can we talk baby?” he seems ever so calm now “I’m sorry” nodding my head smiling “we can talk, come” grabbing his hand as I walked with him, I don’t know why but a sob left my lips, my heart is crying “why are you crying?” Chris asked “just happy tears” I lied, I don’t want to go into it.

[vesperstalksclones]

Ramblings of a Bipolar Geek girl.

And a picture of this sexy mother fucker who is haunting my shit RN and is viscerally intertwined with all my hot messy-ness. And why not?

Really this is just brain droppings. I'm ramping up in to what will likely be a doozy of an episode, so I needed a dumping ground and Tumblr seemed like the place.

I own that diagnosis, Bipolar, and not like in a fad way. I mean chemically messed up. My PsychNP who tends my medicine chuckles and pats me on the head when we talk. She loves my stories and our visits are usually more like coffee with a favorite aunt. Not a call for help or anything. I'm good. I think if you've started reading, then you'll find some things to laugh at.

Eh... OK. A&P/Psychiatry lesson. A lot of people talk about Bipolar disorder, but I've found the average person knows very little about psychological disorders beyond "crazy". Specifically, I am medicated for Bipolar II. Bipolar I and II both suffer from the hellish depression that comes in the cycle, but bipolar I is characterized by periods of mania that can get quite uncontrollable and self destructive. Like the things you hear about people running up tens of thousands of $$ on credit cards or selling their house on a whim. Bipolar II still has the manuc episodes, but not so severe. Its a wild ride, but mostly fun and exhilarating. But, well, thats mania. Like, I go through bouts of insomnia, obsessive behavior, blasts of energy; it feels like your personality is trying to shatter your skin and fly off in every direction at once.

The insomnia gets old, and the jitteryness can be obnoxious at times, but the obsessions are downright funny. In the past, oh years ago, I remember a year (I go in nice neat 3 month cycles) where I had a food obsession with fruit roll-ups (an American snack common in kids lunch pails if you're not familiar). So, my last episode was late May - June. I had a new opsession and or new symptom. I thought it was just this mysterious hormonal change that I hear talked about on sitcoms and movies and etc where a middle aged woman suddenly becomes a cougar. Well.... suddenly my mania comes with ADVANCED HORNY. Now, I'm a geek, always have been. And suddenly, this new manic horny thing (and my Puss Puss) said "Look! Fictional characters! And they have genitalia! Imma gonna latch on to this hard!" Somehow the worst of the obsession landed on my beloved clone boys.... and well I started my Tumblr account and poured in smut - fics, pics, follows, etc. After a few weeks, things calmed down. And I thought... well that was refreshing, sorry its over. NOW - three-ish months on.. its BACK. Next manic cycle and skin melting horny have me their grip! Is this shit here to stay?

Ok so... some of y'all write about this or that character going through a heat cycle or a rut... well... this bitch knows what that feels like. I can barely function. I am humming like a fucking tuning fork. I've changed my drawers twice today (sorry, gross but lol) and any conscious thought involves some depraved behavior involving specific handsome brown men. AND THE DREAMS I HAD LAST NIGHT! My stars and garters, I couldn't properly look Nitro in the eye this morning when he got up for work! (No worries, he and I have a happy comfortable relationship and we can talk openly about sex and people we admire and etc. That and IDK what my sexual orientation is so we can appreciate boobs together happily, but this can be another entertaining blog post)

LIke srsly, Temuera Morrisson, Sam Witwer, Dee Bradley Baker, Liam Neeson, and Ewan McGregor should consider getting ready for retraining orders against me. The money I would pay just to have these guys talk at me.. well... might rival that shit I said about Bipolar I mania 🤣.

All things considered... mania is exhausting. Your brain is on constant fast forward and I feel like there is a veil between me and the world. Im sure I'll do or say some stupid things that might embarass me later on, but right now everything seems fair game, kind of like being drunk or something. IDK. So that being said... time to sip some coffee, draw some clone dick,... and maybe write down some of those dreams from last night. Seems a shame not to share! 😁🥰

Love you babies! ✌

[ellaintrigue]

Photo credit: Julio Cortez/AP

George Floyd's fiance pleads against the violent protests: https://www.thedailybeast.com/george-floyds-fiancee-pleads-…

YES, racism is alive and well. So is sexism, rape culture, and homophobia, but you don't see the Me Too movement hurting people and destroying property...

YES, George Floyd was murdered. But this goes far beyond racism. I never deny racism, the recent murder of a black man by two white guys in a pickup was clearly racist. But this is an issue of MEN. And POLICE. Cops have always killed people, it's all a matter of what gets the most publicity. I see a photo collage going around of black people that have been shot recently by cops and I find it offensive. Where are the white, Asian, and Hispanics that have also been shot by the police? What about the recent shooting of a white woman? We are all equals, right? https://apnews.com/57b423dcf5e54bdb801d7ea564416a0a

Foolish liberal hypocrisy. Meanwhile I am seeing younger democratic socialists applauding the looting as capitalism being put in its place. What the hell? You see the first article above, George Floyd's loved one said he never wanted this. And what exactly is the relevance to his death? What did Target stores do to George Floyd? How is the guy walking down the street with a backpack of stolen liquor bottles contributing to justice?

This is bullshit of the greedy and the brainwashed, race issues and social topics have been long lost. The majority of the protesters seem to be males enjoying violence. Which again, is what it comes down to.

While a huge feminist, I have no problem admitting that men have their own separate laundry list of issues. Difficulty speaking out, and difficulty getting help for whatever problems they may have because of the stigma of society where men are still not allowed to admit "weakness." I see it in my own father who has outbursts from being overwhelmed by various things. Having to be a tough guy and a financial supporter to a disabled wife but unable to accept or seek support himself.

There are A LOT of angry men out there. Shit, they're justified for the most part! I would definitely not want to be a man. And that is where the position of authority comes in... overcoming your struggles as a male youth and becoming a cop or correctional officer.

There are so many great cops out there! But, I haven't met many of them. Because not everyone overcomes their past and becomes a good cop. Whatever they grew up with or were born with makes them relish power, control, and violence.

I, a lower class (former middle class) white woman, have been victimized by the police. If you think that's a fucking joke because I'm white, refer back to the original point: POLICE VICTIMIZE PEOPLE OF ALL AGES, RACES, GENDERS, ETC.

A few years ago I read an article about a rapist cop. He raped more than one woman, but when they reported it, they were dismissed because he was a cop. His peers made sure he was above the law. So then he rapes an older black woman, someone's grandmother. She raised hell and he finally got in trouble. Was she listened to because she was black? HELL TO THE NO, women are treated like shit. A black woman? I've seen black women treated horribly my entire life. It's just how it is.

But no one felt like bringing this pig to justice, because, well, white male cop. Cops obviously deal with criminals and folks they will naturally regard as lower class, and none of these folks are going to be believed over a cop. From dating men of questionable backgrounds, I have heard horror stories of prisoners being beaten by cops and correctional officers and all kinds of shit. But who is going to believe some felon over a police officer?

May marked the 4 year anniversary of my ex-boyfriend almost killing me. It was hell, I struggled all month. My mom having cancer, the anniversary, the pandemic, now everyone running around setting shit on fire because they want free TVs... HOLY FUCK. PTSD trigger much?

I've wanted to talk about that, but I felt I couldn't, because, well, he's stalked me since. How did this happen? People think I was a battered woman but that's not true. Women stay with abusive partners and I did not. I got with this guy knowing he had a record, as others before him, but did not expect the onslaught of mental illness. The guy before him was bipolar and would shut down, lay on the bed and just be totally mute or sob. This new guy, after about 3 months into a relationship, would have manic episodes that would lead to suicide attempts. Over time I found out that he was a diagnosed bipolar, and rumored (unconfirmed) schizophrenic. I begged and begged for him to stick to taking meds, which clearly helped over the course of months, but he would stop taking them because he felt he "didn't need them," which is the cruelest cliche of the mentally ill and why so many don't function at all.

So I ended up having to call the cops on him multiple times in the course of 3 years when he lost his shit. Not once did he ever harm me, although you can see, and I can see, now, that it was unhealthy and dangerous for everyone involved regardless. The first time I dealt with the cops over him was when he got a DUI in my truck with his friend. but the friend was driving. I woke up at midnight to this chaos and remember a black female cop intimidating me and screaming at me because I was standing near a beer bottle on the ground and I was "hiding evidence." Which was bullshit since the driver had already been arrested. Who the fuck cares about a random Bud Light bottle lying in my yard? The DUI was in Ocean City. Whatever.

The same fucking night my shitfaced, manic boyfriend logs onto my computer and reads like 7 years worth of texts between me and a male friend, accusing me of fucking him. After a long night of dealing with the other drama it was like hell never ended. He's on my computer, looking at everything I have and accusing me of cheating. Never met the dude, never tried to be with the dude, but that seemed pretty moot. Even if your partner has nothing to hide, you shouldn't be going through their shit. IF YOU DO NOT TRUST THE PERSON YOU ARE WITH, LEAVE THEM. IF YOU HAVE ONGOING ISSUES WITH MANIA OR PARANOIA, GET HELP.

Well, perhaps I seem a hypocrite in protesting violence against women, and I did something I'm not proud of: I punched the fuck out of him. He then got up and put my shotgun in his mouth. He didn't pull the trigger but obviously that scarred me for life. I called 911 and they chased him down in the woods and took him to the mental ward in Salisbury. I dealt with 3 male cops that were kind to me and said I did the right thing by hiding the gun afterward and calling 911. My neighbor also helped me, which I am incredibly grateful for.

I should have left, hands down. But because I never felt physically threatened by him: I felt I was helping him, he could get better, and I kept trying. I have never been a woman that wanted a "project" as some people want, where they find someone to fix or better as a person. But I loved this man and tried my best, stupid as I was.

He was fine for months after that, another huge factor in me staying. We were just boyfriend and girlfriend, enjoying life, until he had another manic episode. Once he went 6 months with no signs of anything at all. Again, at this point in things, I have nothing to candycoat in my life. I am an open book, and in 2018, came out about being raped by a man in 2011, and got judged harshly. I've had to accept that no matter what I say, I will be questioned and put down because that is how victims are treated.

So in 2015 he came home late at night, screaming the FBI were in the bushes and smashing things. He accused me and a family member of conspiring with the government against him and stripped half of his clothes off, threatening to kill himself. Just like that, he would go from a calm person that worked all day to a raging maniac in the most literal form.

I called 911 and was in tears by the time two very tall male cops showed up. That is the main thing I remember, I am 5'2 and these men were both over 6'0 and stood way too close to me. My boyfriend was running around screaming utter nonsense and one cop talked to him, another talked to me. The two men ID'd me and laughed at the fact I always wore lipstick, in the pic and in real life, a habit since I was 14. Then they told me they weren't going to do anything with my boyfriend, who was still screaming and stomping around. I said, "but he's clearly unstable and threatening to kill himself." Both of the cops stood roughly two feet from me, and the heavyset olive skinned officer moved in even closer, shining his flashlight in my face, his breath bearing down on me, and said, "if you call 911 or anyone again tonight, you will both be arrested."

I felt scared of them at this point and they told me my option was to leave my home, leaving my boyfriend there. They asked me if I had family in the area and I said no. "Well, we can't help you then. Plus we want to go and get dinner," the thick one said, before laughing with his partner, who was a thinner blond man. So they waited until I got in my car and left, then they left, leaving my ex still standing screaming in the middle of the yard.

I had nowhere to go, so I went to his aunt's house and spent the night. At one point in the night I heard my boyfriend's truck screech through Berlin, looking for me, but knew I couldn't call 911 anymore because I WAS threatened. And cops can do what they want, no one is going to listen to some white trash chick with a crazy boyfriend.

I called 911 one other time before things got truly worse (I know, right). I got one of the cops that I had dealt with when he put the shotgun in his mouth and he threw him in the mental ward after a brief car chase.

By spring 2016 my boyfriend wasn't working, binge drinking, and seeming off on a regular basis so I somehow managed to drop him off at a homeless shelter despite him initially standing in a Wendy's parking lot screaming I was out to get him.

Finally, in May he became increasingly manic before literally waking up one morning with this weird hollow look in his eyes and screaming the worst threats against me and his family I had ever heard. First I tried to be calm, then I tried to run from him when I thought he wasn't looking and he ran after me and jumped on me. And that was the first time I felt actually afraid that he would hurt me. I thought he would hit me. Instead, he dragged me through the woods by my ankles so hard my leggings were pulled down and became filled with dirt, leaves, and sticks, threw me on the porch and then dragged me into my house. He tortured me for 1-3 hours. I think it was between 1 and 2 hours. Years later I sat down with a shrink and told her, I can't remember, I truly can't. I just remember the intense fear and shame of what it would be like for my dad to come into my house and find me dead. The doctor pursed her lips as she listened to me and reassured me that people with PTSD often have trouble remembering details. In fact, I couldn't piece together how bad the whole thing was until 2018, around the same time I talked about being raped, because I had repressed memories so hard. There was a point where I vividly remembered everything both men had done to me respectively, including a lifelong physical injury I had also blocked out. Like, I knew it was there, I just never allowed myself to think about why.

Instead of killing me, thank fuck, my boyfriend left me lying on a plastic floor mat he had just put a cigarette out in that he been holding over my eye and walked out of the house, stealing my truck. So I called 911, in a sort of daze I seemed the most worried about the stupid truck. But I really couldn't comprehend anything at that point. I shouldn't have bothered calling, because ding-dong, who is at the door, but one of the cops that essentially kicked me out of my house in 2015, leaving me to wonder if my boyfriend would kill himself or burn the place down. The thin, blond cop. The first thing I noticed was his eyes when I spoke to him that day. His pupils were tiny pin-pricks and it was shockingly noticeable. He looked like he was blind or something, because he had wide blue irises with these teeny tiny pupils. Frankly it was creepy, but wasn't relevant to the situation. I told him my ex went nuts, then stole my truck. He starts screaming at me and asking me what I wanted to do, and why the hell did I call. I completely shut down and just felt scared of him. Thinking about telling him about the assault just evaded my head, all I could think was that I was being cornered and I had to get away. He walked around the yard looking at other shit my ex had torn up, yelled at me some more, then left. This cop was almost manic and I was afraid he would arrest me for annoying him.

I finally got my truck back with the help of my grandmother after watching my boyfriend acting insane in front of his boss, who he had driven to. The man got a restraining order against him that week after seeing the violent instability and I made our breakup official at the same time. I knew I was done the second he dragged me through the woods. That was the first time he had ever put hands on me and the torture session would be the last. (I was lucky in that he had tossed me around and suffocated me in a headlock, etc., rather than getting a knife or something... it could have been so much worse.)

At this point, regardless of what people around him did, my now-ex was clearly gone mentally. Not sure how or why it got that bad, but all of his issues just imploded on him at once, almost overnight. So 2016 to 2018 he stalked me and made my life a living hell. He called me and I was afraid to disconnect my number right away because I felt it was a way of tracking him/how dangerous he was any particular day. After screaming for him to leave me alone and calling the cops even more times failed, I felt I had to be nice to him to keep him at bay, or when he started coming into my job, so I wouldn't make a scene. I finally got a domestic violence order in 2017 and stood before the court and described my assault so the judge to decide if I had just cause.

About a month after that, my ex called me threatening to kill himself so I felt super happy about calling 911. Finally they would put his ass in jail. A cop in his early 20's showed up, flirted with me, called his boss and they told me that there was not enough cause to jail my ex. The cop told me to "just talk things over" with my ex and then left after staring at my tits through my sweatshirt.

More time goes by, more bullshit, afraid to go to work, afraid to come home at night. Mace didn't make me feel safer, guns didn't make me feel safer, having coworkers didn't make me feel safer. My dad was screaming at me that I had brought this all on myself by being with a nut for so long. I felt like a hunted animal. My boss complained about me calling out of work over this. Finally my ex's other ex-girlfriend who he was with after me comes into my job, says he assaulted her, and that he was dangerously obsessed with me and my boss finally took me seriously.

I couldn't do anything about phone calls or online harassment. He would message me online telling me he hated me and stuff and I would just block him. Then, one day in September, during Ocean City bike week, he showed up on a bicycle, cornering me in the parking lot of my job as I walked to my shift. I was in utter terror and for a moment he looked like he would attack me again but I just kept on walking, and did not pause. My coworker wanted to know why I was being confronted and I said "THAT'S HIM, THAT'S HIM. I'M SO SORRY, NIKKI, I'M NOT CLOCKING IN RIGHT NOW. I AM CALLING 911."

Two cops showed up, a male and a female and ID'd me, and looked at my DV order. I asked if it was okay for me to lift the sweater on my front seat up to get my purse and the male cop brushed that off, acting like I was a non-threat. But I knew I had to move slow, because, well, cops shoot people. White, black, male, female, non-bindary-gender, whatever.

They saw I had all my paperwork in order then they started fucking yelling at me! They told me they really didn't have time to look for him since it was Bike Week and they were busy! I don't know what else they said to me, I think they were confused about what phone number I used the most because I had 2 at that point. I broke into tears and the male cop said "you don't have to do none of that." I walked back into the store and they came back in again, and my coworker told everyone later on how nasty the cops were too me. I knew it wasn't just me but it was good to finally have a witness this time around.

They looked around for my ex at two known locations then gave up, I had called and asked. 3 days later he attacked his other ex, the one that I had spoken to and they arrested him on both that and my DV order. He was jailed for several months and since then his stalking has been infrequent aside from him popping up on Tumblr this winter to make fun of my cat dying. Because I left him, for assaulting me, he now, in whatever the fuck is left of his mind, wants me to live a life of hell. During one phone call he screamed "YOU WILL NEVER BE HAPPY UNTIL I'M HAPPY."

I'd love to count on him staying gone, but I know better. His brother added me on FaceBook not too long ago and I said hi, and he said "you know you're the love of my brother's life, right?" I told him I wanted nothing to do with my ex. "Not even friends?" I told him that my ex tried to kill me then made my life hell and he said he didn't know and the conversation ended.

I'm not afraid of my ex's brother. I don't think he added me purely to help my ex. This man isn't crazy. This man didn't try to kill me, and isn't going to. But the sheer mindfuckery of it: how can you try to get back with the woman you abused? How can you use threats to try and get back with her? Another time my ex called me and screamed over me posting pictures with my last ex, mocking it. Why would I be with him, instead of the guy that abused me?

...Why would I want to be with a guy that I felt safe with that never abused me? Golly gosh, no idea. But it's all just a headfuck that I will be scarred by for life.

Summary: Cops and the severely mentally ill are capable of ruining the lives of anyone, of any color. 🤷‍♀️

[youreonlylow]

Any ship and 39

Elu + 39 “I don’t love you anyless.”

Thank you for this prompt! In this universe Eliott hasn’t had an episode yet at least not that Lucas knows of. It’s basically Eliott telling Lucas about his MI. It mentions suicidal behavior and self harm so be careful. Enjoy!

They are lying in bed one morning. Very similar to the first morning they had spent together. It was a lazy morning, full of lazy kisses and lazy conversation. Lucas was lying on top of Eliott and they were smiling at each other. Eliotts legs bent, his thighs cradling Lucas hips. Comforting. There was so much fondness in Eliott’s eyes, but they also had a sadness behind all the light. Lucas knew Eliott’s past was a touchy subject, but he was curious. He usually stayed away from the topic unless Eli brought it up.

But he needed to know why his boy sometimes disappeared. Disappeared into himself and came back looking like he had just fought a battle. But mostly he needed to hear if Eliott was okay. Because Lucas didn’t always feel like he could reach Eliott and that there were walls in him that had not yet been taken down around Lucas. He needed to know why pain had ghosted around Eliott’s life.

He had seen the scars that hid under and around the edge of Eliott’s underwear. And Eliott knew he had. It had taken a while. At first Lucas didn’t understand why Eliott wouldn’t let Lucas go down on him, at least when it wasn’t pitch dark. At first, he thought it might be insecurity but Eliott didn’t seem insecure about anything else. And when he finally saw, he had understood. That Eliott would have let him in on so much more than just his body. Faint lines littered the pale skin. Some even words. Some deeper than others. They hadn’t talked about it because Lucas had waited for Eliott to bring it up, but he never did.

Eliott had a solemn look on his face, he had had for a while.

“What are you thinking of?” Lucas whispered out into the air between them.

A sad smile grew from Eliott’s lips. “My life before I met you. How much I love you and how lucky I am to have met you.”

“Then why are you sad?” Lucas was a bit puzzled.

“I am not. I am mourning.” Eliott smiled a little again but it quickly faded.

“Who?”

“The others. The Eliott’s stuck in the past. The ones at my old school. The ones who don’t know what’s coming to hit them. The ones that don’t understand. The ones that won’t. The ones that never met you. The ones who never made it this far.”

Eliott’s eyes are tearing up and slow tears fall from the corner of his eyes.

“I know that the idea of other you’s comfort you and it ensures you that you somehow made all the right choices… but for me, I can’t help but think of all the others that made the wrong ones.”

Lucas kisses Eliott. It short but reassuring. That he can keep going and that Lucas won’t go. But he also feels the wetness that flow from Lucas’s eyes. And he doesn’t want to hurt him with his pain. But Lucas looks at him and it is as if he can breathe. This beautiful boy, lying on top of him grounding him.

“The ones who gave up the fight. The ones who never figured out what was happening to them. I mourn them. Because I know, that there are probably a lot more of them than ones here with you. But I am so happy that I am. And I don’t want you to worry. Not anymore than I already know you do.”

They just look at each other for a while. Letting the meaning of Eliott’s words sink in.

“Well, what is going to happen to them?” Lucas asks so softly that Eliott can’t help but smile.

“I never told you this. And I know I should, because if something happens you need to know why.”

Lucas is frightened slightly by the words that have left Eliott’s mouth, but he doesn’t let it show. But he feared the reality behind the scars and the absence and the hurt in his eyes.

“I, uhm, I am bipolar, Lucas. It makes me very depressed at times and very manic at others.” The words hang in the air. Heavy. Revealing.

“Oh. Why didn’t you tell me earlier? And why now?”

“I was scared. I had an episode and it really fucked up my life. I lost friends, I couldn’t face them after. Because by the time I had come out of the hospital and dealt with the fact that I now had diagnosis… It was too late. All they knew was that… I was in the hospital… supposedly because I had tried to, uhm… They thought I tried to kill myself… I didn’t but I wanted to… And before that I did some stupid stuff because of the mania and it just wasn’t the same again. So, I left. I killed that part of me and moved on. But I can’t rid myself of the disorder, but I wanted to pretend for a while. You were new, not part of my old life and I didn’t want to scare you away. Or make you stop loving me.”

Eliott had taken his eyes away from Lucas while he had been talking, too scared to look him in the eye.

“Hey,” Lucas whispered and placed a hand on Eliott’s cheek, so that he looked at him properly, “I don’t love you any less.”

[maevelin]

I know you don't consider anything beyond tvd season 4 finale canon, neither do i. But we have to admit there was still a fuckton of oocness going on in the first 4, but especially the 4th season. Do you think it was realistic of klaus to be afraid of silas to the point of not even trying to defeat him, to gain back the title of most powerful immortal in existence? Is it realistic of klaus to admit defeat in any situation when faced with the... truly undefeatable foe? Like silas, makael, etc.

I mean, i believe you're the expert on klaus' character, you, out of the entire fandom, truly understand his personality, get where he's coming from, i say this sincerely. So is klaus the kind of person who would be willing to serve some higher power or being, if only out of self preservation and for the sake of those few he loves? Or would his ego (let us admit it is bigger than Alaska) not be able to handle even just the thought of servitude?

--- 

i believe you're the expert on klaus' character, you, out of the entire fandom, truly understand his personality, get where he's coming from, i say this sincerely.

So -fair warning dissertation ahead- it has been quite a while since I have written a TVD meta over a character but I still stand by TVD Klaus for the most part. He has been one of my most favorite characters in general (up to a point in canon). So I will always be bitter and salty for the treatment he got and by that I mean the treatment he got in TVD because I literally don’t care about TO Klaus in any kind of a way and I am actually one of those fans that when I heard that they killed him in TO I was actually “finally they took him out of his misery.”

All that been said I am remembering a time when by the time S4 of TVD finished when I was 100% certain without any shred of doubt that TO would demolish Klaus’ character and it would collectively be a mess. I still remember how adamant I was on that and how people acted as if I was crazy or something. Back then I had gotten quite a lot of hate even from the Klaroline fandom because I was irrationally negative. 

What people didn’t understand back then was that my negativity was based on two objective things. Because yes subjectively I can be a petty bitch and an asshole but I can take a step back and recognize reality for what it is. I was a Klaus fan first and foremost. An Original groupie after that and a Klaroline fan after that. I wanted a spin off about the Originals. The Originals had outlived TVD by leaps and bounds and in the hands of capable writers their spin off could have turned out to be probably my most favorite show to date. But in the end TVD and TO became a dead land of wasted potential. Because talented writers to carry the weight of TVD and of the Originals were nowhere to be found. And the two things that showed that to me was A. The backdoor pilot that established TO’s identity and premise (Kol was dead, Hayley was the lead, Rebekah had no place in that episode and was practically a guest, Klaus kept crying and mumbled nonsense and Elijah was incredibly OOC and the show was based on the concept of a pregnancy that many people believed it to be a hoax but nonetheless that was what set the Originals on course and let us face it....Julie Plec does not do subtle. The only twists she can think of is killing characters for shock value from which most of them she will bring back and plot wise she basically spells everything out so what you see is what you get. Julie Plec believes the viewers are not intelligent beings so she treats the plots she gives accordingly) AND B. The entirety of S4 when it came to Klaus Mikaelson.

Julie Plec had time to prepare the spin off. Months. To plan, to organize and the best she could do was what she showed in S4. Klaus was meant to have his own spin off and instead of the plot paying tribute to that they had to reduce him into a mess to make him fit in a parody of a show. S4 showed exactly how the spin off was going to be. I didn’t stop watching TVD because the Originals left or I didn’t have Klaroline anymore. I stopped watching because S4 was atrocious and ridiculous and it took one of my most favorite characters of all time and turned him OOC. 

Because YES there weremany OOC cases in season 4 of TVD which I consider to be one of the weakestfrom the seasons I have watched (S1-S2-S3-S4). It was a mess. JP took over buthad no creative vision and she didn’t care for the characterization. She onlycared to manipulate the story to the point where she could make the transitionto the spin-off. Which I would understand if this was a smooth transition orshe did it to avoid the plotholes but we all saw how she was like “ho ho nature’sloopholes”. She retconned everything. She didn’t care for the genre. For the established mythology. For the lore. For the characters. How can someone expect a writer to be able to write a decent show when she has no respect for the characters? None whatsoever? She was unable to even create a clear plot to drive the storyforward even in the expense of characterization. And this was not me reading between the lines. This was as clear as day.

Klaus wasOOC in many instances in S4 really. His intellect suddenly took a nosedive.Damon checks his phone records for example and Klaus doesn’t react. He didn’t even coverhis traces. Klaus the paranoid Hybrid that had always been steps ahead fromeveryone and was so overly suspicious that had lived for decades as a reclusewithdrawn from the world while having a cult worshiping and fearing him! Klaus just glared at Damon was fine with it. 

Elena andJeremy kill Kol and Klaus sheds a tear and barely blinks at their direction. All that with the spin off coming along and just a few episodes before the backdoor episode aired. Sure he threw a tantrum screaming some threats but then was like let bygones bebygones. The man that hunted Katherine for half a millennia and killed her family in retaliation for her not becoming the sacrificial lamb to his slaughter. But all of the sudden Klaus that was obsessed with his family let it go and even saved Elena and Damon in 4x23 without asking anything in return. Klaus Mikaelson did that while he was about to get his own show about the Originals sans Finn, Kol (that had such a devoted fanbase), Mikael, Esther buy hey at least we all had Phoebe Tonkin signing first before Joseph Morgan for the leading role while we have seen how much people adored Hayley right? Not to mention that she signed for the spin off before we saw Hayley on our screens. As the lead! Because you know a show much have a female lead and it is not as if they could get Rebekah being their female lead right? It is not as if this was a spin off about the Originals right? Right.

So Damonand Elena had the plot armor of the protagonists.Which is a cope out because stories don’t write themselves. Julie Plec is the head writer so she is responsible for what happens in the narrative. If she can’t give the pay off to the storylines SHE creates then why create them in the first place? Write something else.

But then it was not just Damon, Elena, Stefan, Jeremy and I don’t know who else was it? It was a constant theme.

 Hayley betrays Klaus and Klaus doesn’t kill her. Instead he gets to have sexwith her out of nowhere. And I would not mind half as much as I did if it was not so contradictory to Klaus’ character. Not the having sex part. But everything else that was disregarded to make this happen because Julie Plec had a baby fever mania. We are talking about a thousand years obsession that defined Klaus’ character. We cannot rationalize Klaus’ character as we would with a human. He had lived a thousand years and breaking his curse and creating his army was the very premise of his character in its core. The only goal he had for centuries was to break his curse and create hybrids. That was how he entered TVD and how his character was defined. Anyone getting in the way of that and he would kill them and everyone they have ever met more so if they would use his obsession against him manipulating him and tricking him into doing what they wanted and taking all control from him. More so if that created a chain of reaction that ended to his brother’s death. Those may not correlate completely but in Klaus’ mind certainly would. Then to top all that will more stupidity Klaus the insane manic control freak learns about Hayley expecting an impossible spawn and it is a situation that involves witches that are his enemy and…Lo and behold Katherine Pierce that is an arch nemesis of his is involved too and Klaus does not doubt the validity of the claim they are making with the chucky bun Hayley – the most trustworthy person he had ever met- is cooking in her oven. Sure that makes so much sense. But it didn’t matter. None of that mattered because in her mind Julie Plec had to get to the plot point she wanted and for that to happen nothing else mattered. Logic, consistency, any reason at all. How could people expect the spin off to make any sense when for making it happen in the first place all elements that made the Originals what they were had to be erased and deleted? You can’t get something illogical and expect to find logic in it or to make it logical when this is where everything had to be based to begin with. Like can we think about this for just a hot second here? We were about to get a show about the Originals that in order to happen the writers turned the Originals OOC and had to change them so to transition them to THEIR OWN SHOW. What was the point of making a spin off about the Originals (title and all) if you are going to alter them to something unrecognizable? That’ what the fans fought for? That’s what they wanted? No. But what the fans wanted didn’t matter in the end. 

And then let us get to the whole Silas’ mess. Doppelgangers here there everywhere. The big fuck you to the narrative that ruined both TVD and TO for me at once. It really made S2 of TVD pointless. It made the Originals seem like idiots. What was the point of Elena being the doppelganger and Klaus waiting for a millennia and chasing Katherine for centuries if there were available doppelgangers in every corner in every generation and year? What was the point of the curse and the moon curse, of all that intricate planning and of everyone working for Elijah and Klaus and being on the look out when it was practically raining doppelgangers every second day? How much of an IDIOT do you have to to be when everyone fears you and you have limitless resources, time and power and yet you miss THAT? Julie Plec took control not even a year after Kevin left and in one fell swoop she destroyed years of plot, mythology and narrative for no reason.

Klausfearing Silas would make sense. For many reasons. Being fearful does not mean being submissive. In Klaus’ case it means that he would get back on arms. One he does take pride at being the most powerful creature on earth. He would not allow anyone to take the mantle because that would mean he would be in danger. But also one defining trait of Klaus’ persona is that he is paranoid to a fault. Hissurvival goes above anything and everyone. This was why he was trying to createa Hybrid army in the first place. He didn’t want to be alone but he also wanted to be on the winning team. Creating his hybrids was intertwined with Mikael. It was defining him. Klaus wanted to create his own race. To get to the top of the food chain. To not be an abomination. To make all the pain he endured for a thousand years worth something. To take vengeance against Mikael. To not be the “boy” his father hunter and his family saw as the black sheep. To shame his father’s legacy. To be the bastard that became a King. The kind of King that creates his own supremacy world wide. To redefine nature. To become the patriarch of his own legacy and not be ashamed for his bloodline anymore. To be proud. To shield himself from his enemies. To makehimself untouchable. Unbreakable. To win the war without having to go to war.For his enemies to fear him so much that they would tremble only at the mentionof his name. Klaus has displayed fear in the past. Especially when it came toMikael. So what did Klaus do when he faced a weakness? He carted his siblingsinto coffins and withdrew himself from the world where no one would find himand plotted and bought time. He used his brain. He became unreasonably affectedby paranoia. Everyone else became collateral damage.

Klaus had asuperiority and inferiority complex all at once. He would not serve Silas buthe would try to find a way to not be backed in a corner. Back up plan for theback up plan. He would manipulate, he would lie, he would beguile, he wouldthreaten, he would use magic, violence, he would seduce witches to his bidding,he would ally himself with the devil if he had to, he would use Silas to getwhat he wanted making Silas believe he was using him, he would outsmart thevillain and be the better villain. Klaus in S2 was perceptive and a force ofnature that had survived for a thousand years by being several steps ahead. He was astrategist and a nightmare. Klaus in S4 was admittedly an idiot. The onlymoments that made a lick of sense was when Klaus massacred his hybrids andlater on after Kol’s death he admitted that he always planned to get the cureand kill everyone else when he would have his hands on it because he only usedthem as pawns so to get the cure himself and stop anyone from using it againsthim. After the way his hybrids plans had ended (which made no sense to end so abruptly but I digress) Klaus was ready to clear theboard and destroy anyone that destroyed his dreams. And that meant anyone thatstood in his way. Which was of course all words and no action or pay off.  

But whatmade no sense even with Klaus’ obvious brain damage in the end is that Silaswas planning to drop the veil and release the other side. Now Klaus in S2 wouldsee the coin from both sides. One side would be a chance to bring Kol back but theother? The other would have him running for the hills. He would find ways tothwart Silas’ plans. Because the other side breaking down meant that everyoneKlaus had ever killed, torture and mistreated would return with a vengeance.More importantly Esther and Mikael would return. That was motive enough forKlaus to arm himself and go against Silas. To become paranoid once more. Toburn the world if he had to so to stop his parents and especially Mikael from returning. Klaus was hunted by Mikael for a 1000 years. He was terrified ofhim. That terror and the daddy issues ran deep into a limitless void for Klaus Mikaelson. More so killing Mikael was a personal victory, the ultimate triumph, forKlaus and there would be no universe in existence where Klaus Mikaelson wouldallow anyone to take that away from him.

And whatdoes he do? He goes to New Orleans and forgets all about Silas and thepossibility of his father returning from the grave. In what world would KlausMikaelson ever do that? In what world would Klaus throw a tantrum about beingKing of a mere city and needing an heir (seriously....) when his worst nightmare was about tobe released again and the only thing that stood between his worst nightmarecoming to life was the Mystic Fall gang? It made no sense whatsoever. There wasnot even a shred of characterization that was left in Klaus by the time season4 came to an end. They literally gave him a lobotomy to create a spin off NOONE WANTED because the one EVERYONE WANTED was the one Julie Plec never wanted.

And mindyou they were preparing the spin off ever since the summer before S4 started.They had time to organize and give a plausible story. But the only thing theycame up with was a baby fever that demanded Klaus to be brain dead in order towork out and of course had to kill Kol after having him mention New Orleans (insult to injury!) because he was too dark for a mature adult diaper show about… the Originals. A so dark series where in Julie Plec’s book Klaus had to stop being the villain to get his own show. So he had to be contained and become domesticated. Because Julie Plec has certain archetypes of characters she works with. The logical thing to do with the Originals was to take Klaus as the villain he was and in the way he was loved by the fans and make him a more nuanced villain and the villainous protagonist. There was no need for any kind of redemption. If it ain’t broken why fix it? Just dig deeper into the layers and relish in the opportunities the genre provides. The Vampire lore gives countless examples of how this works. Dracula, Lestat, etc. This is still the horror genre. There was no point for baby redemption nonsense but that seems to be Julie Plec’s ultimate fantasy and truly she obviously doesn’t care or understands this genre.

And thenthere were people asking me why I was not giving TO a chance and was so sure itwas going to be a mess and I was like…really? Like REALLY? Where have you beenduring season 4?

[actualltr4sh]

talk about yourself.

1. Full name: zarina blah blah

2. Zodiac sign: capricorn

3. Three fears: never being happy outside of mania, falling in the oven, never being able to love healthily

4. Three things I love: watching tv, writing, editing/making videos

5. Best friend’s name: i have many. i’m honestly probably the closest to jas though.

6. Last song I listened to: i’ve been watching tv for hours so i’m not sure.

7. Four turn-ons: having a good sense of humor (preferably dark), smelling good, knowing things, being supportive

8. Four turn-offs: abuse (obviously), stupidity, being judgmental, lying 

9. Color underwear I’m wearing: blue ish

10. Number of piercings and tattoos: 5 tattoos, 9 piercings 

11. How’d you find out about Tumblr: i was in the 8th grade and it was one of the only sites we could get on in the school computer lab. word just kinda spread and i’ve been here ever since.

12. Current mood: meh. nothing. i was manic earlier so i’m not looking forward to however i’m going to feel tomorrow. 

13. Something you really, really want: to feel whole and healed.

14. My current relationship status: i’m so fucking single lmao.

15. The meaning behind your username: i suck.

16. Favorite movies: paid in full, bring it on, step brothers, halloween, idk lmao

17. Favorite songs: this changes all the time but i’d rather be with you by bootsy collins is one of my favorites of all times

18. Favorite music artists: tupac, isaiah rashad, florence & the machine 

19. Three things that upset you: being used, being broke, being lmfao

20. Three things that make you happy: writing, watching tv, caffeine lmao

21. Things you find attractive: a great sense of humor

22. Someone you miss: my ex. but like.. a different version of him. idk.

23. Someone you love: damon salvatore, at the moment.

24. Your relationship with your parents: quite rocky.

25. Favorite holidays: halloween. memorial day is cool.. there’s food.

26. Closest internet friends: no one really. i scare everyone off with my oversharing and depressive episodes LMFAO

27. Someone on the internet you’d like to date: see 26.

28. A confession: nothing about me my blog doesn’t know lmfaoooo.

29. Three things that annoy you: hearing people breathe, seeing cabinets open, having the tv on and music playing at the same time

30. Favorite animals: dogs, on a casual scale. to be outrageous? owls, ravens/crows, zebras used to be up there.

31. Your pets: hope i get a dog soon.

32. A lie you told: probably telling people i’m doing okay.

33. Something worrying you: what isn’t worrying me?

34. An embarrassing moment: i shat myself on my back porch once.

35. Your current job: office assistant. 

36. Something always on your mind: “when the fuck am i not gonna care about this anymore”

37. Three habits: isolating myself, playing with my nipple rings, talking to myself

38. My future goals: live another month. if i do that i want to publish my books

39. Something you fantasize about: finishing my books lmao

40. Favorite stores: pretty little thing, zumiez, dunkin’ donuts lmao

41. Favorite foods: nachos, chili cheese fries, lobster, COOKIES!!! COOKIES!!!!!

42. What I did yesterday: probably nothing. i never do things. i love not doing anything.

43. Something you’re talented at: making people laugh, writing, isolating myself lmao

44. Your idea of a perfect date: if we’re both up for doing something i think a date at the arcade would be cool. drink a little. play some games. then go home and sleep. awesome.

45. Your celebrity crush: i would get vince staples pregnant.

46. A picture of you: #me tag!

47. Your favorite blog: meh idk i’m into everybody’s shit lmao.

48. How many kids do you want: one.. two... or none LMAO. i guess whatever happens.

49. Do you drink or smoke: smoking gives me anxiety, i drink on occasion. the hardest thing i do these days is caffeine LMFAO

[aithusarosekiller]

People really said "imagine if no one noticed he was manic"?

God. Like I can assure you and swear it on my father’s grave that if you live with soemone going through a manic episode you will realise somwthing is wrong. You may not know what, but there's being hyper and then there's mania, and it's visibly different

-⚜️

EXACTLY

It made me so mad bc they were like ‘it would take them like a week to notice 🤓’ like…

1) NO IT WOULD NOT

2) manic episodes usually last around a week or two anyway 😭 ur saying they only realised when it was over? (Ofc they can last longer but if James was a typical textbook example like they expect him to be, it would be over by the time they noticed)

3) I don’t even have mania but my friends can tell when I’m hypomanic within a few hours, even if I wasn’t able to clock it and tell somebody before it happened so ofc they’re gonna fucking notice

4) I don’t think they do understand that mania isn’t being hyper 🧍‍♂️ it’s so stupid, like, even someone who knew nothing about bp could tell you that.

Under the cut are just a few hypomanic symptoms they clearly like to forget when they say this because everyone would notice at least something: (based on my experience ofc)

- doesn’t sleep

- restless

- doesn’t take time to eat or eats too much, no inbetween

- rapid weight gain

- overly ambitious, no room to stop and think

- extremely over confident to a point that can be dangerous (grandiosity)

- doesn’t realise if they’re doing something wrong

- RACING THOUGHTS AND SPEECH (literally too much to handle)

- avoids loved ones

- excessive panic attacks due to rapid adrenaline build up

And those are just some of the ones other people would notice, it doesn’t even touch on what James would be feeling himself

YOU WOULD NOTICE

[mothmancrossing]

BPD and Actually Having It

Let’s talk about 🌸BPD🌸

Borderline Personality Disorder is probably the worst diagnosis I ever received, and one of the best diagnosis too. Now that I’m diagnosed, I can fight the dragon that was always hiding below the surface under incorrect or incomplete diagnosed disorders.

To be diagnosed with BPD, you need to present an active 5 out of 9 symptoms from the DSM. These symptoms are:

🌸 Frantic efforts to avoid real or imagined abandonment.

🌸 A pattern of unstable and intense interpersonal relationships characterised by alternating between extremes of idealization and devaluation.

🌸 Identity disturbance: markedly and persistently unstable self-image or sense of self.

🌸 Impulsivity in at least two areas that are potentially self-damaging (e.g. spending, sex, substance abuse, reckless driving, binge eating). This does not include suicidal or self-harming behaviour.

🌸 Recurrent suicidal behaviour, gestures, or threats, or self-mutilating behaviour.

🌸 Affective instability due to a marked reactivity of mood - intense feelings that can last from a few hours to a few days.

🌸 Chronic feelings of emptiness.

🌸 Inappropriate intense anger or difficulty controlling anger.

🌸 Transient, stress-related paranoid ideas or severe dissociative symptoms.

How many do I present out of the DSM? I present all nine. All nine. Let’s break some of these down.

I constantly feel as though I’m about to be abandoned. I was once, legitimately, due to my self destructive behavior. No matter who it is, friends, partners, my own parents- I’m constantly afraid, “They hate me, they’re going to leave me.” “I shouldn’t have made that joke, they hate me now.” And of course the all too common BPD cry, “I can’t let you leave- I’ll hurt/kill myself if you leave!!!” Luckily I’ve learned to manage this. I know that my parents and partners, if they wanted me gone, would tell it to my face. I know they love me, and I love them.

The second symptom can be described as “Splitting,” where one moment you think someone is great, and the next you hate them. This can happen at the drop of a hat. I’ve seen people with BPD start to abuse their partners out of nowhere, screaming at them, sending horrible angry texts, crying and yelling that they’re terrible and they don’t really love them, angrily typing away about how they prefer their friend or their other partner or their pet over the one they’re splitting on, only to beg for forgiveness later. Splitting isn’t fun. Splitting is probably my least favorite symptom of this hellish disease. I’d like to think I’ve never lashed out quite as extremely, but I’ve definitely lashed out. It’s better now, so much better now. Between meds that help stabilize my moods and the DBT therapy, I can recognize when my dragon wants to make me think I hate someone that I know for damn sure I don’t hate. It’s an incredibly difficult symptom to reign in, and I’ve even seen some people -to my horror- embrace the instability.

Self destruction! My favorite! A while ago I admitted to my mom that I was a smoker. I used to smoke cigarillos because I’m a snob and cigarettes taste terrible, but I still wanted the nicotine. I would spend a lot of money on smoking. Now I occasionally will hit my vape, and the nicotine level is very low thankfully. I also used to drink. My partner would come home to me crying, a mess on the floor clutching a vodka bottle that had been full this morning and was now half empty. I don’t drink anymore, period. It affects my meds, and overall I don’t need it. I’m depressed as it is, and taking a depressant when I’m working as hard as I am to not be depressed is a waste. I often think about killing my self, usually in a passive way where I have no motivation to act on it, but there are times when something -usually something small and stupid- strikes a cord and I want to throw myself from the overpass into I-5 traffic. DBT has helped a lot with those thoughts. It’s helped me learn to love myself and smack that dragon in the snout whenever it starts whispering in my ear about suicide.

I experience what’s called “mania” or “manic episodes.” They’re not that fun. My ego swells up, my impulsivity sky rockets, I engage in a bunch of stupid shit, push everyone away from me laughing the whole time, and then I crash into the largest pit of depression afterwords. I got my most recent piercing in a manic episode where I NEEDED to get hurt ASAP. I needed to spend money ASAP. I shaved my head and did a bunch of other stupid shit once and that too blew up in my face. After the mania is over, I collapse into a heap going “good god what have I done kill me now.” Mania also manifests in anger. Usually the kind where it goes, “I’m SO GREAT!! So great! Better than all of you, actually!!! God shut up! When did you all become so fucking annoying?! SHUT UP! I LOVE HATING YOU SO SHUT UP!!!” The mania is treated through a combination of meds, DBT, and meditation. I haven’t had an extreme episode in some time. I aim to keep it that way.

🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸

BPD has a terrible stigma of being the “abuser disorder” or “manipulator disorder.” Honestly I believed that for a long time, avoiding anyone with the disorder like a plague. Then I was consequently diagnosed with it. My world shattered. I was half convinced one of my partners would leave me due to the diagnosis. I wouldn’t wish this disease on anyone. There are no black and white emotions. There’s no inbetween, no mediums, no grey areas on how you feel. Emotions are extreme all the time, the paranoia, the fear, it’s all so overwhelming and it never stops being overwhelming. There’s no real excuse to not get treatment for this disorder because it will destroy your life if you let it. With my help it nearly destroyed my life more than once. I can never shut up, I share too much personal information and then scare people off cuz oversharings a bitch. I can’t handle the idea of people not liking me or wanting to leave me, I need constant reassurance and validation that they don’t in fact hate me and it’s all in my head. I need my accomplishments or creations to be met with enthusiasm, or else I think you hate me and want me to go away. I need my pain to be met with loud, boisterous displays of sympathy, or else I think you don’t care. Silence is the worst. Silence means you don’t care. Not even that you hate me, you just don’t care. Etc etc etc etc. [word vomit]

🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸

BPD is a hellish disease and I refuse to call it anything but a hellish disease. I wanted to share my perspective on the disorder because I know too many sufferers who are reluctant to get help, and I know too many people who are reluctant to learn or accept BPD. BPD sufferers aren’t crazy. We feel so much more intensely than neurotypicals do. We can hurt more intensely sure, but we also love more intensely! We’re amazing with babies, we can be incredible lovers and artists, we can be amazing friends and partners too. We just need a little extra patience, and a little extra push to get the help we need sometimes. We ourselves need to be better about learning and managing our disorder too. So many of us are still in the dark about our own symptoms and available treatments because of the stigma. As black and white as the world looks to us, it’s truly a two way street.

I’ve gotten really good at dragon taming, and I’ve got this beast by the horns.

[nyctononsense]

Mental Health Awareness Month

Okay so I totally forgot to do this until just now so I’m gong to play catch-up and then hopefully answer the rest of the questions daily until the end of the month. 

Day 1: What is/are your mental illness(es)? Explain it a little.

I’m not even sure, LOL, though my psych agrees with me when I say Schizoaffective bipolar type, my official diagnosis is paranoid schizophrenia, bipolar I, general anxiety, and a dissociative disorder. We’re still hashing it out but that’s what we need the papers to say to get my insurance to cover my medication haha.

Basically, it’s schizophrenia and bipolar disorder at the same time. 

Day 2: How do you feel about your diagnosis?

I’m fucking terrified of it. 

Day 3: What treatment or coping skills are most effective for you?

Medication is definitely the most effective treatment for me. Psychotherapy has never done much for me. Coping skills include body stims and breathing tehcniques. 

Day 4: What are the pros and cons of having a mental illness(es) or your specific illness(es)?

What the hell is a pro to having an illness? Like, honestly? This shit has ruined my life. Took away my school, my job, my everything. I mean, I guess the pros of being me are that I am extremely self-aware and do a lot of research so that I know when episodes are happening and I can tell when something is real or not real (for the most part). The cons are misunderstanding what people are saying all the time, a crap memory, hallucinations, delusions, uncontrollable moods, and other symptoms..... and not knowing who you are outside of those symptoms and being afraid to suppress your symptoms for fear of losing yourself. That’s always a fun one. 

Day 5: Do you believe nature (biology/physiology), nurture(environment), a mix, or something else has an impact on mental health?

I believe it’s a heavy mixture of both. I’m not sure what more to say on that issue. 

Day 6: Do you have a family history of mental illness or mental health issues?

Absolutely.

Day 7: Do you think there are any triggers or patterns to how your illness(es) effects you?

There are definitely triggers for my mania and depression, yeah. I know there are triggers for my hallucinations, I’m just trying to like, work around that? Because they’re my favorite things most of the time and I want to engage with my favorite things still. I don’t want to develop whole new interests and hobbies just because my hallucinations are persistent, you know? Hopefully a heftier dose of medication will make them go away and I can still enjoy my hobbies. 

Day 8:  What age you were diagnosed at?  At what age do you think your symptoms began? (You can make a timeline)

My symptoms began around age 17 and I was first diagnosed major depressive when I went into the hospital at age 18, psychotic symptoms were present but I didn’t know that so I didn’t tell my doctor.... It’s been a long journey and several hospitalizations to this diagnosis, now, finally, at age 21. 

Day 9: What are some of the important events in your life, that may have effected your mental illness(es) for the worse or better? (You can make a timeline)

My mom’s death when I was a child probably had something to do with it, though I can’t exactly sort out how it affected me. I was too young for me to remember much what I was like before it happened, you know? 

Day 10: What is the best thing in regards to your mental illness(es)?

It has made me extremely compassionate and caring and made me want to take care of everyone, so when y partners are unwell themselves, I always go over and take care of them, cook for the, clean for them, whatever I can do to make their lives easier. 

Day 11: What is the worst thing in regard to your mental illness(es)?

The paranoia. Thinking your food has been poisoned or someone is following you or something wants to kill you through the walls or someone is reading your mind or your roommate has put up cameras to spy on you while he’s away is...... unsettling, and upsetting and terrible. 

Day 12: What do you think about your diagnosis in general?  (Some ideas are: stereotypes, commonalities, misdiagnosis, over diagnosis)

I don’t know what this question is asking but I think that my doctors should have thought a little harder before diagnosing me with schizophrenia just because I hear voices? There are tons of other reasons to hear voices... right?

Day 13: If you know the criteria of your illness(es) which ones do you think you meet? Or what are your most common symptoms?

I meet more of the criteria for mood disorders than I think I do for schizophrenia.... or maybe that’s wishful thinking? I don’t know. My most common symptoms are

Auditory verbal pseudohallucinations 

Mood swings

manic/depressive episodes

visual hallucinations

In that order.

Day 14: Have you ever experienced stigma?

Only in a language I didn’t understand, behind my back. But some frightful stuff. The mother of the family I live with thinks I’m gonna murder the family in their sleep. That’s fucking great to know. Yeah~ /sarcasm

Day 15: How has your life been affected by your illness(es)? (Some ideas are: relationships, career, school)

My life has basically been put on hold by my illness. Like, no school, no work, nothing. Barely able to take care of myself. But I got good things coming soon and I am starting to recover so I am hoping I will get to a point in my life when things are working and going well sometime soon. 

Day 16: How many people are you “out” to with your mental illness(es)? Why?

Just about everyone. Because I do not want to hide this anymore. It’s exhausting and if I can explain my actions and quirks with “I’ve got this illness so I’m sorry if I act this certain way I’ll try not to but it might happen don’t be afraid” it is a lot easier than “I...uh... am... rAnDoM lOl xD” or some other lame excuse. 

Day 17: If you could get rid of your mental illness(es) would you?  Why or why not?

Yes! No? Maybe. Yes, because I don’t want to live like this anymore. No, because I’m afraid of not knowing who I am without it. Though.... I suppose that is a risk I am willing to take. So if you could magically cure me, yes, I would love to get rid of my mental illness. 

Day 18:  What do you wish people would understand in regards to mental illness and/or mental health?

That it’s not something we control!!! I can’t make it better by taking up all of your tiring hobbies, by taking weed oil, by praying, by drinking tea, by any stupid little thing neurotypicals do to relax! I have tried! Don’t you think I would have tried all of that by now? Literally all of it? If any of it worked, I wouldn’t still be sick, now would I?! Now stop giving me advice I don’t need! Especially the kind of advice that just says “suck it up and work through it and it will get better” because that’s not how it works! 

Day 19: Have you ever read a self-help book or a book related to psychology?  What is your opinion on them?  If you have read them do you have a favorite?

I have only read the one, and it was written by my grandmother! I’m actually pretty lucky to have a psych doctor in the family who specializes in schizophrenia. It’s interesting. She hasn’t expressed much interest in talking with me though. I don’t know why. Anyway--I don’t trust most self-help books any more than I trust most neurotypicals to give good advice on mental illness but informational books like the one I read can be beneficial to understanding yourself and your diagnosis and knowing what symptoms to watch out for. 

[blueberrypancakepotbellygirl]

oOoOooOooOo she has so many thoughts !! time to spill !!

diagnosis and next steps

so, after the bad appointment last time, my mum and I have been planning to go back to the doctors and try to see a different practitioner and see if I can get referred this way. my mum talked to this psychiatrist lady she knows, and she asked me to send her an email with my symptoms and why i want a diagnosis. i told her the truth, including that i want a diagnosis for validation of my experience and the ability to access special circumstances at the university and through whatever employment I enter (so that, when school starts and when i get a proper job, i don’t have to wait 6 months for verification of my illness while i... idk break down or something. preventative mental health care just seems so logical idk why it isn’t encouraged more.)

the psychiatrist wrote a letter with her recommendations, something i could maybe give to whatever GP I see. Right now, though, i’m wondering if this is 1) worth it, 2) necessary, and 3) if i’m doing it for the right reasons.

I know that something is still wrong. I know if I was neurotypical i wouldn’t be self harming, i wouldn’t be having panic attacks, i wouldn’t be having these episodes of severe sadness and suicidal ideation. i wouldn’t still struggle with food. so, something is wrong. a diagnosis of SOME KIND is needed, because i haven’t been evaluated since before first year and these seem to have expiry dates. so i feel like, even if the first GP i saw didn’t think i had BPD, he should have still referred me because of the symptoms I have????? like fucking maybe ??

the thing is though, i know i’m not supposed to be in therapy right now. i know the relationships i have with my therapists can stunt my emotional growth (... just saying.... this is another symptom of BPD... just putting that out there). so i don’t want a diagnosis so that i can access TREATMENT. i’ve been getting treatment for over a decade ! i need to see how i do on my own ! so far that’s been.... real mixed !!!! as my life always is ! some days i feel like a fully normal person ! other days i feel like a fucking GOD. and other times i want to Fully Die and i feel the Worst I’ve Ever Felt and it feels like every cell in my body has relapsed. but i feel like if i say i’m not looking for therapy a doctor is going to (fairly, as well) be confused as to why i want an assessment. 

the way i see it, a diagnosis allows me to access the SUPPORT i need to live my life without therapy. it allows me to have days off when i need them, it allows me extra time in exams, it is lenient with me in terms of how much is expected of me as a researcher or academic or employee. a diagnosis helps me navigate the world slightly easier. having a diagnosis of an eating disorder meant that i could be strict with employers about food breaks. having a diagnosis of depression meant i was given leniency when i came to missing classes and lectures. diagnoses are keys. if my life has these adjustments, therapy isn’t necessary. life gets its hardest when i can’t access these adjustments. but i don’t know if this is good enough for a GP to refer me. i know waiting lists are long (ahahaha i know this SO WELL) and doctors don’t want people on them who might have nothing wrong with them. i get that. but there is definitely something wrong with me, and i feel like this reason is a valid enough reason. maybe. i think i think i think.

okay but here’s where i stumble. because DESPITE IT BEING YET ANOTHER SYMPTOM THAT I DON’T HAVE A STABLE SENSE OF SELF AND I OFTEN CLING TO SPECIFIC THINGS TO MODEL MYSELF OFF OF BECAUSE I DON’T FEEL SUBSTANTIAL ON MY OWN i have always depended on my previous diagnoses as personality-makers. being ‘anorexic’ or ‘anxious’ became my entire personality. identifying with BPD has done the same. i honestly cannot remember a time where i didn’t have a diagnosis of some kind, just as i couldn’t remember a time until just recently when i hadn’t been in therapy. existing without a diagnosis is something i have never done, and the idea of it is SO FUCKING TERRIFYING. and, often, when i’m scared about something, it’s a sign i really, really, very much need to do that thing. 

so now i’m stuck ! between the possibility that maybe i need to see how i am without a diagnosis and no help ! and trying to get help again and maybe being rejected again !!! but, i guess, if this was a physical illness ( and ik ik it’s stupid to compare them i know) then i wouldn’t be like ‘well, i’ve always had the diagnosis of diabetes, so maybe i should go a while without having it’. that’s just dumb.

look, i know my symptoms are mild. they are nowhere near as severe as many of those with BPD experience. my mania and depressive episodes happen a 3/4 times a week rather than three times a day. i don’t have debt. my relationships are significantly more stable (definitely not perfect by any means tho, still a long way to go, can’t get complacent). the eating disorder is so much better, the self harming is so much better. i am getting better. but when things are bad, they are SO BAD !!! and if i wait until things are SO BAD then it will be too late ! i am being a good patient by going in now smh. 

i am going to go back to the doctors. i don’t know if i’m going to let my mum come into the actual appointment with me, because that’s a boundary i really want to reinforce. but i also don’t want to push her out of my personal struggles entirely either, so i feel like her coming down to support me through the appointment is a really good middle ground. we’ll see.

going home and family

i went home this weekend !!! i took alex and we got the train and my ENTIRE FAMILY CAME TO THE STATION and fucking Rory homophobe smith was there which was just... hilarious. so weird. why are my family so intense. but it went so well !! so so well ! i feel like dad likes alex way more than he ever liked mike (idk what he had against mike). i felt bad for not spending much time with my mum on our own, because that;s what i always do when i go home. but it was actually super nice to not do that, to not have super intensive emotional sessions with her. it was just... lovely to play chess and drink coffee and play with the dogs with alex and then leave the next day. 

the night was hard. the night is always hard. triggers creep in like ghosts in the night, they seep through the wooden floors and sink into me. i went manic and was going through all the cupboards on the first and lower floor. idk what i was looking for. it was a pair of strawberry-patterned converse at first, and then i started feeling paranoid for no reason and searching for old diaries of mine that i thought my parents had hidden.

partners meeting family is always a big and important thing for me. gay partners meeting family is... a Whole New Thing. it forced me to confront those lingering feelings of guilt and shame that i feel about my sexuality and the Big Feelings of guilt i feel for upsetting my mother by being queer (aha. lol. that was. the worst. feeling. ever. it broke my heart. i am absolutely still not over that heartbreak it turns out. i’m getting there though.) but we did it and it went well and i am so grateful to have such a supportive partner and i am very in love and i like them very much and it feels like we are in a good and stable place and that is the best feeling ever.

how summer is going

summer is going. it’s super good and super bad. i need to get more interviews. i need to keep trying to keep a routine and keep my room clean and get fresh air even if that means i buy coffee from some dumb coffee shop every day. work is hit or miss. anxiety comes in waves, as does dissociation. depression hits like a brick and then leaves like a moving van. i need to sleep more, need to shower every day. water the sun flower. i have my paints now ! and my brushes !!! so i can paint things for all my friends and that makes me happy. immy and chema and dara and ale and alex can all get little summer paintings to commemorate the end of summer.

what’s next

dissertation. i’m putting out a new round of posts tomorrow. meeting ihsaan to catch up because i have been a terrible, super negligent friend to him recently. buy groceries because i need to eat more vegetables and protein. maybe buy a baking tin and make banana bread this week. i get paid on wednesday: no. 1 priority? immy’s birthday present. i have MANY IDEAS. gotta pick one now.

[thegarden]

sometimes i think maybe i just have too little self esteem to ever experience mania? idk maybe i’m wildly confused about what a manic episode looks like but all those tests and shit say that like grandiose behavior is a criteria and like....idk friends i just have all this energy and know i should sleep but still don’t and can’t handle social media or netflix anymore but still keep using them and wanna buy shit but don’t have money and can’t stop moving and have a headache but won’t eat despite having a grand total of chocolate chips, ice water, and cheese to eat today and i keep impulsively texting ppl even tho they are all asleep and won’t answer and then tomorrow i’ll hate myself for being the person who texts at 3am like “are you awake” and idk what else what else oh yeah i know i should take my meds bc i forgot them yesterday (or was it the day before? who knows bc i’m in a “forgets time is passing” sorta feel) and remember when you were in the shower two days ago and you realized this isn’t the person you want to be?? and you thought about how you could actually just say fuck it and become the kind of person who you could actually like being and the kind of girl who deserves all these stupid people you keep falling in love with and the kind of human who has their shit together and doesn’t just let people down over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and i’ve typed this twenty fucking times and still cant get into a pattern of muscle memory where i don’t forget the space between “and” and “over” also i just remembered i had a dream last night and i was swimming and happy and idk i was talking to this guy who was doing a weird “bachelor” type dating game to like figure out which ordinary human girl wasn’t a fake bitch trying to date him only bc he was famous but idk he was nice and i wish the dream hadn’t ended honestly i wish i could live in my dreams even my nightmares where my mom is awful again and doesn’t love me as much as she says she does and i know she actually does care because how else would i have inherited a fucking genetic code for this much goddamn emotion like i feel everything and i hate it i hate it i hate  it i hate  it i hate it i hate it i hate it i hate it i hate it hate it hate it hate it hate it hate it hate it hate it i hate it why why am i this way why do i feel so goddamn much and why do i have to be this way when nobody wants someone who is this fucked up because they can’t stop feeling nobody wants me nobody really wants me and if someone does then i haven’t met them because everything just always hurts me in the end and i always end up sweating and covered in tears and alone and wondering why i’m not good enough for the people i care about why is it whenever i get to experience enjoyable things it’s always just a lie it’s a fucking lie it’s a one night thing i’m someone else’s fucking experiment and i can’t even be mad bc i let people treat me like this i can’t fucking stand up for myself and have some goddamn boundaries bc maybe if i let them hurt me maybe if i let people do whatever maybe if i let them kiss me and get me drunk and fuck me over i can pretend that it’s their fault for how i feel when it’s really just me it’s me i’m broken why am i so broken i finally set up an appointment with a therapist after failing to call for months and it’s a fucking re-intake so it won’t help and it’s not until next tuesday so i probably will be back to deluding myself that i’m fine by then but i’m not i’m not fine i don’t know if i’ll ever be fine and i don’t know how to be a normal human and i miss my friends even tho i have already texted one of them all goddamn day and seen one last weekend and one the other night (even tho it sucked i hated yesterday night bc i’m a shitty human and a shitty roommate and it would have been better for everyone if i just wasn’t there bc apparently i even suck at basic cohabitation) fuck i’m hyperventilating which makes it hard to type but honestly why can’t i have a fucking panic attack or something or a fucking heart attack why can’t i fucking die my lips are tingling and i don’t know why what is this feeling it feels like silent screams i don’t even know it feels like i just want someone to hug me and let me fall asleep in their arms so i don’t wake up feeling numb and alone like i always do i wake up from dreams and wish i could feel the type of happiness that only seems to be momentary in those few seconds where i convince myself i haven’t completely irredeemably fucked up our friendship bc i feel like i have i feel like i fuck everything up i should just drop out of school or fucking i don’t know walk into a street or just see how long i can lay in bed and do nothing bc if i tried hard enough i don’t think it would matter who tried to intervene if i could just admit that i don’t deserve anything and i don’t deserve anyone or happiness or kisses or wondering or all the what ifs i make up in my mind i don’t deserve to ask you why if it was just trying to get a reaction out of people did you kiss me in a fucking elevator and if you were worried about me why do you think showing up at 9pm and waking me up with fingers through my hair and making me drink with you because let’s be fucking real i don’t know if i’m capable of saying no to you bc i have no self preservation and i’m just so greedy i want whatever i can get even though i know it doesn’t mean anything and i don’t know if those are tears or sweat dripping off my cheeks right now because whatever i’m feeling right now is like a nightmare that wakes you up in a hot sweat it is violent it’s more violent than any blade i ever put against my own skin and i don’t know if i’m just blaming you because it’s convenient bc this is not your fault at all i can’t blame someone for not having as many fucked up fucking emotions about people as i do and i can’t blame you for being gay except when you’re not except when you’re making out with me or with one of my only friends here who isn’t complicated why did you have to pick maddy to be the one you joke about dating why do you have to pick the one person who is mine she’s my person to call she’s the person who said i could call her after i sat on that fucking bench two years ago wishing i had someone to call because i felt awful and i was 2451 fucking miles from home and everything familiar and my world felt like it was crumbling and we had made lunch plans and she told me to talk to dean L bc dean L is like everyone’s yale mom without being too involved why do you kiss her drunkenly and why do i have this ugly feeling of jealousy inside me even though i know she isn’t interested in you even though you act like you’re actually fucking in love with her and whenever i see you guys together i have to hate you so i don’t let all my own ugly feelings explode on her when she didn’t do anything other than be there for me she’s always fucking there when i need someone and she sends people to let me in fucking redlit doors when i’ve cut my own wrists open in the middle of a courtyard because i let my roommate take out their own issues on me and i laid down like a fucking doormat while they did it and you know what 

you’re totally right. i know you say it jokingly but i am so fucking weak. i’m so weak. you say that like it’s not true or like you’re just talking about an immune system or idk maybe you are talking completely seriously because sometimes i think my best friend is actually right and that i shouldn’t forgive you for turning my own fucking brain and its inability to be rational and produce serotonin like a normal 3 pound meat slab piloting an even bigger meat slab should because i know i’ve definitely felt less than that moment but wow it’s definitely top three when the gay guy you’re in love with because maybe that was just another violence i could inflict on myself maybe falling in love is just another way i self harm and honestly the most effective way because you’re not the only person i’ve ever felt too much for and it’s left me damaged every time of course that’s assuming i was ever not damaged in the first place lmao what a thought i’m pretty sure i was born broken but back to the point i hate when i realize that he’s right and i can’t even disagree like what kind of friend thinks that threatening to get me expelled or forced into a leave of absence bc of my mental illness is okay what human person with an actual fucking soul looks at someone who can barely keep their guts inside their body who fucking spews emotions at strangers in the street because they hurt so much inside and when they don’t hurt it’s because they’re numb and not in a painless way but in that “not wanting to exist doesn’t sound that horrible like ‘at least your not suicidal’ you think to yourself while knowing deep down it’s actually a horrible awful violent life altering way to feel” something you never really recover from type of numbness and i don’t know how i don’t even have the capacity to hate you for taking the one thing i hate most about myself the one thing i can’t change about myself even though i’m going to spend the rest of my goddamn life trying (and even if i fail it’ll still be the rest of my life lmao) how did you ever think it was okay to say that to me how how how how on earth i know you had good intentions but dammit do you ever actually think before you say shit like that do you think about what it feels like to be going crazy inside your own head while completely aware and unable to stop yourself like you don’t you don’t fucking know what it feels like to be sinking into a pit of self hatred and knowing that you could just take a goddamn pill every day like you’re supposed to and keep a routine and socialize and do meaningful work and it would mostly be okay but for some reason you get halfway there halfway to okay and things fucking explode all over again and it’s square one and it’s not that easy it’s simple but it’s not that easy it’s not easy to have to depend on a pill to keep you from replaying the first time you looked at your mom’s kitchen knives and thinking that you should really be in a different room than them because you’re wondering what it would be like to feel them split the skin on your wrists and your arms and your throat but not your thighs because they hurt just thinking about knives and what is point if no one can see what is the point if nobody fucking notices that you’re in pain i just want someone to acknowledge that i’m hurting this hurts i can’t live my life without it constantly hurting it hurts and it hurts and it hurts and it hurts and it hurts and it hurts and it hurts and it hurts and it hurts and i just wish someone would realize that i wish you would realize and hold me like it’s not an obligation of friendship and kiss me not on the lips and not while we are both drunk but kiss my forehead and stroke my hair and remind me that it’s gonna be okay tomorrow because sometimes that’s too much to imagine and i think the only time i’ve ever felt safe from myself was when you are next to me on a couch and not being weird about me being within 3 inches of you because I can’t read you on a lot of things but I can always tell when someone doesn’t want to touch me or be near or see me or be in a room with me trust me as someone who’s been fat as fuck their entire life I know what that repulsion of I Don’t Want to Touch This Girl Her Existing This Close to Me Makes Me Uncomfortable feels like I can smell it on people I can read it in the way you never reciprocate when you’re sober the way you treat hurting me in small ways like a game and I get it I really do because I spent so much of my life reveling in the little ways I could make someone flinch just by pushing the right button or phrasing something in the right way or pretending to know more about that thing that makes them obviously uncomfortable the things people hate about themselves and I reveled in it I used to be so goddamn expert at manipulation and you think I didn’t realize that you were manipulating me? I always knew and I let you do it even though I kept getting hurt and wasting time wondering about shit wondering if today was the day you would actually take this world and education and the only place I’ve ever been allowed to be myself completely away just because you didn’t know what to do when a girl comes to you with cuts on her wrists bitch you just gotta fucking care just fucking wrap me in a hug and tell me not to do it again and tell me that it’s not stupid when I thought about texting you before instead of cutting or walking into a street without looking or running full speed into a cement wall at midnight because maybe that would help you’re supposed to say that “even if i don’t respond right away you can still text me and say you’re having a shit night and then cry yourself to sleep waiting for a reply that won’t come instead of hurting yourself” you don’t even have to say that though you literally could have just actually touched me i just want someone to touch me i just want to feel like i’m not as disgusting as everything i’ve ever done wrong not as disgusting as i’m supposed to feel in a body this big not as disgusting as every horrible thing i’ve ever said to make someone else hurt 

i just want to know...was it to fuck with me? was it to see how i’d react? do you even remember doing it? what do you actually fucking want from me?? because I accepted that you’re gay and not interested and I tried....I tried so hard to just leave it at that but...i can handle you still holding my hand and shit bc that’s your sense of humor. i can handle that you’re gay except when you’re drunk. i can handle that i don’t have a dick so it’s a no go and that i’m not even attractive if you did like girls and i can handle you saying no and letting time pass and letting the part of me that cares too much about you shrink until we can be friends again. that was all fine. what i can’t do is the inconsistency. i can’t do the gaslighting not even with words but with behavior. because one day you’re gay and not interested and the next you’re making out with me bc whatever and apparently you’re bi and not interested in me but interested in what fucking a girl would be like but then the next day you’re telling ppl you’re actually straight and there isn’t much to contradict the point bc first you kissed maddy and then you kissed natalie bc apparently if i even marginally enjoy hanging out with someone who is female it puts a target on them or maybe it’s just anyone i have any single feeling for no matter in what capacity bc i thought arty was cute for like 2 days once and then the next week i find out yall fucked and idk if i’m more annoyed by your shitty taste in bed partners (seriously you’re gonna go from mr. control freak to arty???) or the fact that it wasn’t even enjoyable but anyway i digress back to your supposed straightness bc i guess what i’m trying to say is i’m just sick of guessing here. i’m sick of guessing whether you’re gonna kiss me again or whether you’re actually bi or whether you’re just repressing yourself bc being gay and religious sucks or if this is all just a fucking game to you. i like to think there is always a bit of honesty in what people do while drunk off their asses but sometimes i wonder if that applies to you because it’s honestly hard to tell what is honest about you when you aren’t drunk so fuck that 

idk i probably just need to take my meds and i’ll probably regret saying any of this in the morning if i can even bring myself to hit the post button because i think i blame you too much when i’m trying to work out my own problems and honestly you’re not a bad person you’re just you and tbh you’re my friend no matter what because i may be a basket case but i’m loyal if nothing else like you could literally shoot me in the fucking stomach and i’d still be like “yeah we’re friends you need anything bro” but like idk i keep thinking and trying to work my shit out and i know there is a lot of work i need to do on myself but i just keep coming around to one thing after i get through all the stuff that’s completely on me i finally get around to the stuff i can’t answer on my own or blame myself completely for and there is always this one nagging thing left ever since two weeks ago

why did you kiss me in the elevator? 

okay maybe two things...because there is the whole why kiss me in an elevator when no one is there to react and we are dangerously close to your room and it’s already been like an hour since either of us drank anything but there is also the question of why did i like it so much

[rylovesjaz]

Update some amount of months after I initially wrote this: I’m about to send this to you and I am scared shitless. I am somewhat excited, which sounds weird because it’s kind of depressing, but I’m glad I’m able to send it now. But mostly scared shitless. I feel like I’m a little bit better now than when I wrote this, so you should know that. You should also know that I’ve written you at least 20 other letters. I’m feeling pretty dissociated today, so that’s making this more difficult, but yeah. I hope this makes things a little bit easier to understand. I love you so much.

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So. I’ve been thinking about writing this for a long time now. I’m not sure how much time has passed tbh. I’m not sure if I’ll ever get the chance to send this. I don’t even know what I’m going to end up saying, but I’m going to force myself to say something because you deserve that much from me. You deserve much more, but this is all I can do right now. I guess I’ll start with what happened. I’m not shitting you when I say that I can’t remember. I can’t remember the last time we talked or what was said or even what happened leading up to it. I’ve been told that no one really knows what happened to me because I can’t even remember. I don’t even remember the last thing that I remember. I don’t know how far I can think back because my perception of time is warped. I didn’t realize how bad my mental illness was. I have depersonalization-derealization disorder and maybe dissociated amnesia, in addition to bipolar disorder, and some symptoms of OCD (which, thankfully, are rather mild). I added links so you can read more about the stuff, if you want. I might be fucked up, but I’m still a nerd.

Back to the bipolar disorder, it’s known as a progressive disease, so, basically, it gets worse the longer it goes untreated or gets agitated (i.e. by taking the wrong medication, like antidepressants). Looking back, I’ve had symptoms since childhood, so you can imagine how much time it has had to build up. I finally realized that I have been experiencing psychosis in the form of delusions (definition: These are false beliefs that are not based in reality. For example, you think that you're being harmed or harassed; certain gestures or comments are directed at you; you have exceptional ability or fame; another person is in love with you; or a major catastrophe is about to occur.) Apparently believing vampires are going to attack you at 12 years old is not a normal thing. And I experienced a mixed episode for the first time recently- mania and depression at the same time. Holy fucking shit, it was fucking awful. Manic episodes have also worsened- I’ll stay up all night without sleeping (like right now- it’s 5 a.m.), go all day without eating, and have self-destructive urges, like wanting to drink. I’m currently in a depressed mood, but I also feel numb emotionally, which stems from the depersonalization-derealization disorder. So even though I feel like shit, I won’t cry or feel any emotion, positive or negative. I can watch a funny movie, but not find it funny.

As far as my physical health, it’s eh. I finally went to an orthopedic and found out that I fractured my tailbone and it re-healed incorrectly, so I have to have this really weird physical therapy where the therapist basically massages my butt for an hour twice a week. It’s kind of painful, but hopefully it will help the tailbone/hip/butt/leg pain I’ve been experiencing for what I think is years, but I’m not really sure. I also have arthritis in my knees because I’m fucking old. Although sometimes I forget my age.

Some other random things: Music has been everything lately. If you want to listen to what I’ve been listening to, it’s been a lot of Halsey. So much Halsey. My favorites are Control and Gasoline. James Arthur’s new album is great (especially Train Wreck), Wrong by MAX, and Gold by Imagine Dragons. I’ve been listening to the same shit on repeat forever now. I hear so many songs that make me think of you. The ones I can remember are Let Me Love the Lonely by James Arthur, I’ll Come Back For You by MAX, and Let’s Hurt Tonight by One Republic- I just heard that one.

There was something important- okay, I just remembered it as I was saying that. I’m not on meds because I haven’t found the right one. The only thing I’m currently taking is sleeping meds. What else? I’m trying to get all of this crap out of the way so I can get to the emotional stuff. My counselor said that the symptoms of depersonalization-derealization disorder get worse when I’m alone, so I basically constantly have to be around people. I’m also not allowed to read very much because apparently my brain goes ah, yes, perfect time to stop being here. That’s also why I haven’t been allowed to get online and talk to you, or at least update you. Any kind of stimuli, like watching TV or scrolling through Tumblr, for example, lets me lose touch with reality.

Now onto the emotional stuff. I honestly just need to start by saying that I’m deeply sorry. I also believe that words lose meaning over time, though, and I’ve said it so many fucking times by now. I’m sorry for saying sorry so much. I’m sorry for doing stupid shit that requires apologies. I’m sorry for going back on my apologies. If you’ve left me any messages, I’m not able to read them, so I really don’t know how you are or what you’re doing or if you hate my guts. Every time I’ve laid in bed, thinking about what I would say if I got the chance to say something to you, one of the things that always stuck out was that I had to say that I didn’t leave by choice. And it’s not important because I think it will save my ass, because I don’t deserve forgiveness at this point. But for your peace of mind, I wanted you to know that even though I can’t remember what happened, this is the accumulation of multiple mental illnesses that have gone untreated for far too long. My love for you has not wavered- even now when I feel numb, my Jaz is in the back of my mind. I also realize that this is just a bunch of thoughts strewn together in haphazard sentences, so bear with me, please. The point I want to make is that I am still deeply in love with you. Part of me hopes that you’ve moved on just because I want you to be happy. And I know that might piss you off, but true love (to me) is loving someone so much that their happiness is more important than your own. But if you haven’t moved on, that’s okay, too. If I’m in your thoughts, I hope that I’m doing stupid shit that makes you laugh and being a pain in your cute butt.

I’m a little bit afraid to send you this tbh. I keep telling my head it’s just kitten, it’s okay. But you are not just kitten. That’s an insult- you are the kitten. You are my kitten. And I am scared shitless that this will only make things worse. That I will undo whatever healing you’ve already done. Healing you had to do because of me. I’m also scared that you’re going to be angry or even more hurt or disappointed in me or whatever. I hate myself so much for whatever pain you’ve experienced because of me. Even though I can’t feel the self-hatred right now, it’s always there. Anyway baby, I am so tired right now, I don’t think I can write anymore because I can’t seem to make words into sentences and sentences into paragraphs and paragraphs into enough to tell you how sorry I am and how much I miss you and how much I love you. I love you so fucking much. I think it’s even more important to say that I care for you so fucking much. I hope that we’ll get to talk soon. I hope that you’re okay. Please always be okay. I love you an overwhelming amount.