#i dont like blaming myself for the discomfort i feel inside though.

[vsa-pieldepapel]

Oh Kris, oh baby, oh. Okay, I'm dumping a bit here, and I hope I don’t strike a cord within you, but overwhelming curiosity has me wondering if you might agree:

What if because they're the only human in Hometown, they don't recognize that they differ from other humans? They assume that their deviations from "the norm" are due to being human? What if their discomfort/confusion with being autistic coincides with their species dysphoria?

What if that's why Toriel constantly checked that human caretaking guidebook out from the Librarby? Because everything the guidebook said about human behavior only applied to neurotypical humans?

What if, because they think that their autistic traits are due to their humanity, they never get properly diagnosed and never receive proper treatment?

Oh my god, autistic Kris makes the entire possession situation even more upsetting. They're quiet, they're not talkative, but the Player forces them to interact with every enemy and person and vendor and chest and piece of furniture, never letting a piece of dialogue or flavor text go unseen. The whole forcing Kris out of their comfort zone thing really just hits harder.

Holy shit, holy shit, I'm convinced of its canonicity now. I'm convinced. There's too much subtext that just fits perfectly. Like, as much subtext as their nb-ness (kind of subtext? Kind of not).

>i hope I don’t strike a chord within you

You did, everything related to this shit does, but thats fine I know when I have to distance myself from it and i dont blame others for it. So I’ll treat it more about kris the fictional character and less about my life experiences, using the latter only to inform the former. Thoughts under cut. again I dunno if this post will Disappear later on lol

-I disagree. I do think kris has very little knowledge of other humans and has maybe never seen one irl, but the human standard and the monster standard seem just close enough even in monster-only hometown kris is weird. Kris is aware they’re different. I think part of it may be them conflating both physical and mental differences. both compound to make them feel extra isolated

-the book, i never thought it was about That, though I can see toriel noticing the differences. I think toriel took it out constantly because of the different challenges that came w a human kid, aka diet, clothes for winter, illnesses, blood and injuries, puberty, etc. maybe there was a behaviour aspect to it but I dont think it was the main reason. I think kris has a female/xx/afab body because afab autistics are so good at masking it makes a clinical difference, which is why everyone refers to kris as a weirdo but the A word is never brought up. They’re just good at covering up the deeper shit

-The diagnosis thing is another reason why I stick with femkris (I’ll just use that for brevity cus picking the terms is hard okay? Correct it in your mind). I got diagnosed at 21. i dont doubt they would finish teenagehood without a diagnosis, if they ever get it at all. I dont think it’s necessarily because of the species thing so much as people just sticking to “weirdo” and “quirky” and never bothering to research on a deeper level (as tends to happen irl)

-As for the nb thing, I’ll be real, Per the net’s definition im a “desister”. I was abt to buy a binder and socially transition at age 19. My hairs been very short for years, my fashion very androgynous, i get called young man/boy/sir outside and inside the net constantly and I was always ostracised by girls... I like femkris because it brings back memories from that time and the % of autistics who transition (and desist, detransition, or just stay in their new identity) is high (so like the whole thing is interconnected). sometimes I scarcely feel like a human at all, much less like whatever standards people have for “girls”. I use they them for kris because of nostalgic value/cus it’s what the game does. I think they’d probably stick to being nb for life cus monster kid does too without any problem. This parts projection and very cringey. I am sorry you had to read this kek. I would rather not go on a rant about this part of my life because I know no one cares

Finally on the possession and it being canon- I don’t like the way the fandom acts about the possession sometimes. I think kris has enough of a will even under Player to give strict boundaries. Kris saves Susie of their own will for example, and if you make them say something they don’t want to they will twist it around to be a joke or sarcastic. I like to think when the game gives you an option to do something, it is because kris, consciously or subconsciously, is willing to do it, and if they really don’t want to do something, they won’t let you. But only two chapters are out- we just don’t have enough information to know this yet

I also don’t think it’s canon. I don’t think Toby fox went out of his way to write this in deliberately, because I know my autist brain loves pattern recognition and connecting little dots of information, cataloguing and labelling it, and that is probably how I come up with all the random shit i do. I wouldnt take it as canon until either the game or Toby make it explicitly stated. Its just something I like to think for fun or comfort, and I would def not use it to enforce anything

Like the other post, if this gets trouble from tumbler dot com it shall go in the gutter

[purrpickle]

Random Pezberry Thought of the Day #367

Having learned her lesson about giving Rachel a heads up about climbing up to her window after getting violently attacked by a hairbrush and nearly getting the cops called on her when she stuck her head inside the first time, Santana chilled near the dark corner of Rachel’s house, waiting for the return text that would allow her to start her ascent. As she waited, she leaned back against the house, smiling absently to herself as she listened to Barbra Streisand filter down from Rachel’s room. As much as she would have complained to anyone else, it was classic Rachel - and, yeah, she liked Rachel, classic edition included.

Having just pulled her phone out to check it again, Santana froze when the back door slid open.

“As much as I’d love to ask you what you are doing loitering in our backyard,” LeRoy Berry’s voice made Santana jump, and she sloooowly turned around, staring at him, “I think I can guess. You just got back from cheerleading camp, yes?”

“Oh god.” Santana let out reflexively, swallowing back an expletive as she nodded stiffly. “Uh, yeah.” She cleared her throat, stashing her phone back into her pocket before her hand settled on her hip. “We, well, god, Rache already annoyingly had plans with you - you know how she is.” She huffed. “This is us working around that.” She paused for barely a second. “Obviously.” 

Honestly, Rachel had been incredibly annoyed at herself for distractedly agreeing to her fathers’ plans before pulling her day planner out and realizing Santana was coming home that same day. 

Hence Santana waiting to sneak in.

LeRoy laughed a little, shaking his head. Closing the door behind him, he walked closer to Santana, wrapping his arms around himself as if to ward against the chill. “At least you’re not smoking or doing something else foolish,” he offered, almost conversationally, glancing at Santana out of the corner of his eye as he stopped next to her, looking over the back yard, “Makes me just that much more willing to go inside and pretend I didn’t see you.”

As her phone vibrated in her coat, immediately drawing Santana’s attention away, Santana bit her lower lip. “Look... Mr. B...” she started, standing up straight, honestly feeling as annoyed with getting caught as she was feeling awkward, “I cans sidle on alongside the house and rap on the front door if you’d like. Make it obvious I’s here so’s you can send me along.”

LeRoy chuckled, shaking his head. “Right. And you’d go home? Not wait even longer until we went to bed and then scale up to Rachel’s room? Hiram and I had conversations when we planted that tree outside our hopeful child’s room, you know.”

Santana made a face. “Are you serious? ‘Cuz if you are, you really can’t blame me.”

Chuckling some more, LeRoy turned to smile at her. “No, no, I’m not blaming you for taking advantage of the foliage. Honestly, you’re already smarter than that flipper boy who tried to chuck actual fist size rocks at Rachel’s window.”

“Wait, he showed up here, too? At night?” Rachel hadn’t told her that. ‘Course, she hadn’t needed to tell Santana that. They’d just talked. And a lot of that talk had been about Rachel and Finn’s doomed relationship. Santana shook her head, raising her hand, “Not the point. Moving on.” She gave LeRoy one of her best, patented, ‘Rent Smiles’, it only flickering a bit as her phone vibrated again. 

LeRoy surveyed her. “Go ahead and check it. She’ll probably start to panic if you don’t.”

Santana’s ears warmed. And, though feeling a little disgruntled at how genial  Rachel’s father was being even with the general air of discomfort swirling around this encounter, she quickly tapped Rachel’s texts open.

My fathers are almost done with their nightly routine, so perhaps another fifteen minutes? Though part of me still finds this ridiculous, falling into the trap of a teenager secretly smuggling her lover into her room under the curtain of darkness, the part inside of me that misses you greatly and can’t wait to be in your arms is already jumping at the knowledge I will see you soon.

It really has been too long. I’m still kicking myself for so blindly postponing our reunion, especially since I know you’ve been missing me as much as I have been missing you. I hope the girls at your camp were nice enough to keep you occupied. Just, wait, no, not like that. I didn’t mean it that way. I know I should go ahead and delete this, but I can’t help... You didn’t, did you? I know, while we have been friends for a while, our romantic and sexual relationship is still pretty new, especially with the camp in the middle, and though I trust you... I’m sorry. Ignore this. It’s the nerves of seeing you. I’ll keep it in, however, so you’ll be able to understand my state of mind when you see me, as you’ve told me before trying to parse my complicated emotions if I don’t verbalize them is hard for you to do.

Santana? I didn’t... I didn’t insult you, did I? That’s the best possible reason for you not responding, at least. I’m doing my best not to jump to conclusions, but I did stumble upon asking you if you cheated on me, and your lack of reassurances... San? Please tell me I’m wrong.

“Fuck,” Santana hissed, ears prickling for another reason entirely than Rachel’s father standing in front of her, curiously watching her. 

She had to answer.

And even before she realized, Santana’s thumbs were whipping up a reply.

Babe. Ur dads here. Takin up my time. Dont worry. Ur cute when u panic but nothings gone on. Only u. No insults. And no conclusions. Missed u. A lot.

Purposefully ignoring the fact that she was baring more than she’d like to, Santana sent off the text and stuffed her phone back into her pocket. “Well, Mr. B?” she asked archly, crossing her arms, heart still racing in her chest, “I don’t mean to be rude -” Not. “- but can we hurry up you a), shooing me off, or b), letting me walk into your house, either with or without you?” 

Blinking at her, obviously left off-kilter, LeRoy drew it out, then guffawed - softly - and shook his head. “Alright, Santana,” he paused, looking up at the sky almost ruefully before looking back at her, lips quirking as he raised his hand, index finger pointed, “This once - just this once - I’m going to turn around and pretend I didn’t see you.”

Santana gaped at him. “What?”

“Yup.” LeRoy nodded at her, already stepping back towards the back entrance, smile gentling, “I love my daughter. And she’s been missing you. Putting up a brave front, but...” He paused, meeting her eyes. “Missing you. I remember those days.” He sobered even more, glancing back at the house. “So, just wait, mmm, about another half hour? Hiram and I should be safely in bed by then.”

Santana could only stare at her girlfriend’s father. “Really?” She swallowed, trying not to look a gift horse in the mouth. “I... ...Yeah. Okay.” She cleared her throat, looking away as she forced out, “...Thanks, I guess.”

LeRoy turned back toward her, smile honest, almost amused, as if he could look through her. “Don’t mention it.”

And Santana, fingers curling around her phone as it vibrated with an answering message from Rachel, nodded. 

Silent as the man disappeared back into the house, “...Fuck,” Santana exhaled, dropping back against the wall, looking up and imagining Rachel looking back down at her from her window, “Jesus - fuck.”

[kaibuntsu]

A Human’s Curse

Sequel to The Accursed Scritches.

Long gone the days where I turned into black goop every time I was touched with just a tiny ounce of affection. After weeks—months—of you petting me and nuzzling my snout, which you keep insisting to call ‘the snoot’, I have become hardened. Sometimes you lament my lack of melting and you made it your life’s mission to make me turn into goop again.

Did that ever work out, I wonder? So I ask you, without sounding too...eager to know.

“Eh, I guess I failed,” you answer. Your voice express disappointment, but your face beams, a smile stretches across your pale skin. I see that you mean to have a little laugh, but your entire body already discomforts you before you even made a sound. You have never been able to laugh freely anymore since your body started to fight against you.

“But that’s okay,” you continue, “I miss the way you just splatted and become goop, but that’s not the most important thing.”

I scowl, confused. “Why isn’t it important? You always find joy in my embarrassment. I even dare say it was what kept you going.”

“You have a point, but that’s not what I mean, silly!” You look up to me while your weak, bony hand reach out to meet the one arm I have left. Your hands grow ever so cold these past few weeks. Your eyes drift to blunt stubs where my other five arms once were. I feel self-conscious that you look at my disfigurement so silently so long. You keep doing that time and time again. “Tell me again how you lost all but one of your arms?”

A heavy sigh came with a hiss from my mouth. Again with this question? “I lost them to fights against other demons. I’m a Greater Demon, please do keep that in mind. I have a lot of competition.”

Then, you scoff. “So you went into fights five times and each time you lost an arm? What, did you like do an arm-splitting kamehameha kind of thing every time you fight?” I do not understand what you were talking about; sometimes you just spout the oddest of words out that small mouth of yours. You do not even give me a chance to ask what you meant. “You’re a sucky fighter and a suckier liar, you damn snake.”

“Would you look at that, your first insult to me. And it’s horrible. Horrible as in that is the most gentle insult anyone has ever thrown at me.”

“Whatever! Shut up!”

“You shut up! You’ll only hurt yourself.”

You laugh even harder, you even force your body to bear with it, even though I know from how you clutch your chest as you struggle to get a sound out. You really want to feel this laughter, don’t you? Even your poor bodily condition cannot stop your desire to have a good time with me.

Your laughter quiets down into some giggles as your eyes gaze at me again more gently than they ever did. There is something eerie in that gentleness, I have no idea what it is and why I feel so. “Do you still remember what your purpose was, when I accidentally released you three years ago? You wanted to eat me, didn’t you?”

My cold heart skips a beat; I cannot believe you remember while I forgot. I cannot tell you that I forgot. That makes me sound stupid and I believe I have made a fool of myself in front of you too many times to let you have this one. “I lost my appetite,” I reply, not entirely making an excuse.

“Because I’m an unappealing food? I mean, don’t blame ya. I’m like...zero percent nutrition at this point.”

“No, that’s not why.” I stop myself. I hesitate; why I stopped attempting to eat you is very...undemonic of me. I feel disgusted just humoring such thought, but another part of me feels I should not feel such contempt. Demons are beings driven mainly by impulses and emotions, after all.

“You can eat me now.” Your words brought a snowstorm all over my elongated spine. “I have nothing left for the world. Buuuuut, I definitely have something that you can take—”

“If you’re going to say something cheesy and flirty, I swear to Batara Kala…!” I stop you, even raise my fist to show you that I mean it. Your mouth opens to continue and confront it with a hiss. When you keep persisting to say it, I hiss louder and show my fangs. That only made you scrunch your face in an attempt not to laugh too loud again as your body just hates you for laughing so hard earlier on.

“Alright, okay, you win this round, Wormy.”

“Since I win, then will you do me a favor and get a rest? No more joking around.” I drag your blanket up and cover your frail shoulders. You let out a small content sigh as I bring you warmth with my gesture.

“You’re not going to go out and pick a fight with other demons this time, are you?”

“That was my plan, initially.”

“Well, cancel it. What if I wake up in the middle of the night, don’t find you here, and feel lonely? I never make you feel lonely.” I take a long moment to consider if I should accept or deny your request, but you—at least your glare—are not giving me much choice.

“Tch, fine. I will humor you this time.”

Hearing me succumb brings back your weak smile. “G’night, then. Luv ya, Wormy.”

I do as you said, but my serpentine muscles twitch, itching to slide away into the night. Have you no idea what would have happened if I hadn’t lost my arms? I guess...I never really told you about that. Yet, you called me a liar earlier, so I suppose you have an idea. I suppose you were not joking when you let me eat you.

I loom over you. You are asleep so I have no need to constrict you with my silvery scales. My jaws loosen, gaping as wide as I need to fit your whole body in one swallow. I take another good look of your face, how peaceful you seem and how your last little smile you gave before falling asleep seems to burn itself onto your face permanently. If only I can stare at this peacefulness forever.

My jaws shut tight, with you in front of my lips. I cannot bring myself to eat you, even if I am able to, even when you have given your permission. I just do not have the will to wrap my mouth around you and swallow you whole. And with that, the small tremors that always course throughout your body ceased, air stops blowing out of your nostrils, your body becomes colder than mine.

You knew, didn’t you, that this is coming, whether or not I eat you? You wanted me to be the last thing you see? You fear of feeling lonely? What about me? Did you not think if I will feel lonely?!

...No, you probably did. And it probably torn you apart inside.

You called me a liar? I think we both know who the bigger liar was…

In the distance behind me, I heard the sound of wood cracking, as if it had been violently split by an axe. I wonder what cause the noise that distracted my conflict of feelings, and it was a small box. Or should I say the small box. The very small box I was trapped in and released from three years ago. It broke...how? After so many times it had been lost to fires, crushed by heavy objects, even by a crumbling building at one point. Why, after all the hazards that happened upon it, did it break?

I pushed myself towards it and inspected the accursed box. The lid somehow broke on the hinges, while its surface full of cracks and chips and scorch marks, so is the rest of it. As if the effects of the hazards that fell before upon it finally appear themselves, and with that, breaking my curse. I am once more a freed demon. I should feel elated, yet my cold heart feels, well...cold. What point is there being free?

It starts to glow all of a sudden, the bottom of the box. I lift it closer to eyes, inspecting what appears to be a short archaic scripture, written in gold, and in a style of language that is riddling. A common style among monks and wisemen. It details the key to my release and I throw the box across the room as soon as I read it.

Stupid humans and their stupid trickery! They call demons cruel yet they toy with our impulses! Make me care about someone—someone normally I consider food—and use their soul as ransom for my release! Disgusting, sickening, horrid humans!

My long body feels weak, the turmoil makes me lose control of my form. The first thing I can think of is rushing, as much as my half-goopy body can rush, to my human. For some reason, I feel like it is the only way to help me maintain my form. I crush the lifeless body under my long, droopy, disfiguring body, my one only hand desperately cups the face I have come so fond of.

You! I will not let you go so easily! I will not be free and lonely at the same time! You will be with me! I know where to find you! And I will find you and you will want to be taken by me! I will make you my second head if I have to! Despicable humans and their lies and trickery...after I claim back what was mine, I will bring destruction upon you all.

I cradled my human’s body, curling my disfigured set of scales around the cold frail skin, engulfing it entirely in black sticky goop that is soon creating black smoke out of it, as my being boils from all the strong heat of grief and rage inside me.

I am lonely.

I am livid.

I am suffering.

All because a human loves me, and I love the human back.

[lilgurlwithcomplicatedfeels]

Emotions

Do you ever feel like... Things are so great but theres this one part of your life you wish you could change so that you could be more confident in yourself? Fair warning: If you're my sister this might hurt you. So read at your own risk. I do. Its like this small splinter that I just can't block out anymore. When I was younger, I had none of my mother's attention. I was basically an outcast in my own family. There was even a time where my own sister called me a "mistake" which my mother quickly rejected the thought. Getting upset at my sister who said it. But Deep inside I was hurt, because I even thought of that. But I couldn't tell my mom that at the time. I was so quiet, I never asked for money to go to sports events. Even though I wanted to. I always did most of the chores, and sometimes ended up staying home alone. Because my sister... Well she had depression and she was trying to recover. Me on the other hand, I was the completely stable kid. Only slight behavioral issues. Some lying and some defiance, but in the end I was still a good kid. I usually confided in my mom's fiancee, who I considered my dad. I trusted him and he made good out of that trust. Teaching me about life and such. I felt like I belonged, but it was still hurting. I wanted my mom back in my life, but it was always about my big sister... I get my sister has issues, but now I'm scared to even do anything. On my sister's graduation, I decided to tell my sister what sort of dress I wanted to wear. It was the cutest thing, and I loved it. I felt excited! I was going to be feminine for once! nope. My sister convinces me to be matching with her, and we get one pieces. Along with sunflower bracelets. I'm standing there accepting it, looking in the mirror. I looked good, but I was hurt. My heart was hurting because I voiced it. I said what I wanted to wear, but I couldn't push back to say. HEY! I wanna do this! Now I'm just a confused gal trying to making past the next marker and survive. Yeah, I don't have depression. But I have anxiety in a different form. I don't have panic attacks, I just randomly start biting my nails or I start to pick my face. If theres a pimple, I pop it. I try to stop myself, and recently I've been able to avoid overall my face. My nails however... Theres been alot of people telling me to get a nail polish for it, but thats not the solution I want. I want to feel like I dont need to bite my nails, I want to feel comfortable. But I'm still nervous. My sister's left the house, but there are times where I'm scared that my mother. Who I have an amazing relationship with now, will leave me again. Then run off and push her own body to satisfy my sister's wants. Again, I said "Wants". Everything's been about what my sister wants. She doesn't want to do anything. I have to do everything. Chores are too much for her, I have to do them all. There was even a point in time where I was in my room, peacefully resting. Suddenly my dad bursts into the door, telling me the floors flooded with water. I yell back that my sister had done the dishes today(for once). She had forgotten to turn the water off afterwards. After that incident, I usually did the dishes. I had to make sure I get them done in the mornings before I went to school too. And to do that I woke up at 5-6 am. Got ready, all dressed and packed up. Then I went onto the bus at 7-7:30. I was a tired kid, but I managed to get pretty good grades in all my classes. But for some reason, my sister didn't get very good grades. Which confused me, what was she spending all her time on? Oh. Friends. That's what. So I was mostly on my own since I never felt like I belonged in a certain group. So I just... Walked away, Idk why im saying all this in a tumblr post. Maybe its because I secretly want my sister to see how bad I was hurt. How badly I was affected... I have a part of me that blames her for alot of things. Small little splinters that slowly sunk in. My discomfort for the color yellowish-green. (it was a nice shirt too... Ended up giving it

to her.) My concern over money. (She'd always end up going everywhere and I got concerned if my mom could afford it, so I just didn't go.) My fear of being hurt by people. (She'd say things like this person has a bad aura, when in reality this person just looked suspicious.) The fact that I don't have much hobbies since me and her had similar interests. (I always felt like I was her shadow, and when I started to get into things, she just went like "Oh... ok bye!") The sheer lack of attention I got. She was always hogging my mom's attention. Leaving me all alone and I barely knew anything about my mom. At one point my dad told me to go get a gift for my mom. I didn't know what to get. I was crying so hard because this wasn't my fault. After that, my dad apologized to me. Same with my mom, they both apologized. Then alot of crazy stuff happened including her moving out. (the moving out part I want to keep seperate.) I learned about my mom, about everything she likes. She saw how little she knew about me as well, and pretty soon she felt guilt as well. How could she tell me to get her something, when she knew nothing about me. For my 12th birthday I asked for rollerskates. We went to ripleys aquarium, and I was throughly enjoying myself. We saw the shrimp and the jellyfish. All the creatures in the sea was so fun to see... But then.... On my birthday- My sister suddenly says that she's anxious. (too many people around for her). Of course, I'm considerate but sometimes I wish I just put my foot down and said **"No! I wanna stay longer!"** But of course, I was the good kid. So hey! Yeah, I felt all this. So a part of me hates you, but I still care about you. You're my sister, but did you ever really... Love me? Thats my question for you. Instead of crying, I want you to really think. Whenever you gave me something, was it really something that made me happy? Or was it something that made only you happy? Because the more I think of the past, the more I remember the times when I fake smiled. Following in your footsteps because you were always talking about your own issues when in reality you should've only spoken to a therapist like I did. When shit got rough in school, I saw a therapist. I talked about my issues, there were even times when I just asked if I could have a nap or eat some lunch. It was the best place to just unwind. -AH! another thing that confused the fuck outta me. A really fricking nice teacher spent lots of money on you, gave you a place to hang out at during lunchtime. Was supportive even outside of school. Then suddenly you say "No I didn't like them.." **WHAT? THEY HELPED SO MUCH AND YOU SAY THAT?? IM SO CONFUSED?** I loved that teacher btw, they were very supportive and always set up academic bowl and were really supportive. There was this one time I got sick on a trip, then when I finally got home. I got much better. But that teacher kept checking on me, and making sure I had some food into me as I shivered from my illness. That teacher was the best, and they were always really huggy and comfortable. They are a taurus so it makes sense they had this motherly feel around them. Anyways- thats my piece for today. I just really needed to let this out.

[innie-s]

of mental health visibility

As I’m sitting here in a nice apartment, fresh out of a shower with my hair clean and a face mask on, hot coffee in hands feeling content in my life, it almost seems impossible that only six months ago I was a crying ball of sadness lying on the floor and thinking of ending this misery… It almost seems like a dream I had, that it never happened. But it isn’t and it did. That’s how depression works.

I never though I’d be sharing this online (in this manner), you see, so please excuse a bit of awkwardness. I’ve always been rather open about my mental health state, never really tried to hide it, and yet not many people know or realise. I’d blame that on them not being educated enough but that’s not the problem either, I think. The cause of that lies in a much deeper issue – and that is the invisibility.

You see, there’s one thing to say “I’m ill.” while coughing your lungs up or having a broken leg, and quite another to say “I’m ill.” while smiling and generally showing no symptoms of any discomfort. The invisibility of mental illness isn’t always a bad thing, sure, but it is a bit inconvenient when you need special treatment and people simply don’t believe you. You would never question a physically disabled person needing help up the stairs, but when a person who seems completely okay tells you they cannot do a task because they feel terrible, you’d think them lazy or looking for excuses. Oh, how many times have I heard “Just start – that’s the most difficult thing, from there it’ll flow.” Oh yes. If I could only start. For you, as a neurotypical, having difficulties starting might mean that you have to give yourself a little push or simply sit down and do the thing. For me, it means overcoming five different weights holding me down while constantly hating myself for being like this because look at them, they can do it, why can’t I? It’s sitting down in front of my computer with my thesis open and watching it with dread while shaking and crying because I would love to write the thing that’s been sitting in my head for days now but not being able to. There’s a chain on my hands and they just won’t move, no matter how much I tell them to. My head is spinning a little and the words don’t make sense. It’s finally giving up and starting a new episode of that TV show I was watching or scrolling tumblr until I get to my own posts from the day before. I call that procrastination but it’s so much more, really. It isn’t just putting work off until the last moment, it’s also hating yourself for it more and more every day while being physically unable to do it.

We all understand and accept that the society has a bit of a problem accepting mental illness. We all know that it’s still a bit of a taboo, and although it is spread quite wide we still seem to think that it either doesn’t exist or that it only exists in the most escalated forms of “crazy people who belong to a mad house”. This has been changin lately, for which I am gratefull, but the outcome has been confusing to say the least. Neurotypical adults call their children lazy while completely overlooking symptoms of depression or labeling them as a typical pubescent behaviour (When did it become normal for every other 13-year-old to have cuts up their arms and down their legs? When did it become typical for primary school children to starve themselves because of forced body images? When did it become common to oversleep and romantic to be sad all the time?), we have been called adicted to the internet by people who don’t feel that the only way to express themselves and feel accepted and loved is via internet friendships with people who go through similar things every day. We have been told “It’s going to be alright.” by people who refuse to listen to us and help.

I don’t think our parents understand that when you condition us into thinking there’s something wrong with us, it will stick. I don’t think our teachers understand that calling us lazy or stupid will only ever make us believe we really are. I don’t think adults realise that when they dismiss our symptoms we will grow up thinking we really aren’t ill. There’s nothing wrong with us. We are not lazy and we are not stupid. We are ill. And in many cases we battle that illness without any help, support or guidance and sometimes we lose. Sometimes it’s just too much to deal with and we don’t have the strength to do it. And afterwards adults will say “Such a shame!”, “What a brilliand mind that was.”, “Such potential in that young person.”, and “Didn’t they know they were loved?”.

Now I myself am an adult and rather educated one as well. I can’t say I’ve never dismissed mental illness. I can’t say I came to my knowledge because I cared about others so much I started learning. I wasn’t born educated on the matter and I had to go through some pretty bad experiences myself to even start considering mental illness as a real threat.  I’ve only come to terms with my own issues 4 years ago when they became big enough for me to actually consider therapy. At that time I knew nothing and it took me a bit to overcome the way I was thinking of mental health issues and accept that I might be one of “those people” as I used to think about them (us). It took me quite some time to battle my own prejudice towards the idea of being mentally ill and I still haven’t made my peace with it completely. And still as I face a task I simply cannot do, I question myself. Am I being lazy right now? Do I actually need help with this or am I just calling for attention? Am I being stupid right now? Isn’t it just that I’m incapable/not clever enough/not strong enough to do this thing? I don’t think I’ll ever overcome this need to be “normal” and to prove that I don’t have this limitation.

Many people have suggested therapy to me. And I have suggested therapy for many people myself. I believe therapy can be a very helpful thing. Yet I never went myself and I’ve been called a hypocrite for it. My deal with therapy is simple – will it help a person who is open about their problems, doesn’t bottle them inside, is honest to themselves even if the truth is sometimes uncomfortable and has trust issues the size of the sun? What can therapy of a self-conscious person do – will it help me if I dont need to talk about it (I vent to friends/the internet therefore I dont need any other person listening to me) and dont need advice (I know what to do with myself and I’ve been helping myself for years now)? Would therapy give me something more, can they help more? I don’t pretend I can do this alone but I also don’t feel the need to pay a professional just to tell me what I already know. There’s also the fact that I will not talk, I will not open up about this, I will not show weakness. I will not trust a person who does this as a job, I will never believe they care about me personally, why would I go there to sit and stare at the wall? The day I will go to a professional is the day I will feel so low I’ll accept that I need medication.

There’s a bit of an issue with medication. Meds are for the crazy ones, yes? The moment you get pills you’re automaticaly labeled as a basket case. The moment you have a note saying anxiety/depressive disorder, OCD, psychosis of any kind, personality disorder, etc, that’s that. You’ve been labeled. It all became real. And people will treat you differently, not because they want to be rude but because they pity you and don’t know what else to do. There’s a popular opinion that you have to get better to stop using the pills, yes? As if your brain has a better chance at healing than, let’s say, your respiratory system (will you tell an asthmatic to try and stop using their inhaler?), your pancreas (will you tell a diabetic to try and stop injecting insulin?) or your eyesight (will you tell me to try and stop wearing my glasses?) Can you imagine coming up to a disabled person and telling them to just stand up and walk, see, I can do it, why couldn’t you? No? Then why do you tell me to just start thinking of nice things and find something to do and soon I’ll be feeling better?

And you know what the worst part of this is? That the people who need the medication live with the same prejudice. And so they don’t go to a doctor or they refuse to take the pills or they stop taking them the moment they feel better because they think the deal is to stop needing them. It is not. You are allowed to need them and there’s nothing wrong with accepting help, be it from a person or a little bit of hormonal boost. God knows sometimes I feel like asking for them (and I just might this year before exams and writing my thesis, actually).

But then I get better, as I am now, and I start questioning whether I’m actually ill or if I’m just pretending. And that’s how I know I haven’t escaped any of the prejudice I just desribed and I will have to try a little bit harder to get rid of the idea that I’m really just a poser. Doesn’t help that my own mental health is fine compared to some of the people I know. I’ve never tried to kill myself. I’ve never thought of hurting myself. I already said I’ve been helping myself for years now – and it’s true. I recognize when I’m low and an episode is about to start and I get help (seeing as I’ve found the source of my episodes I also know how to get rid of them). And sometimes they’re bad enough to last days but usually it’s merely minutes and then I’m okay. And everytime I come out of them stronger and stronger and I havent had one in such a long time I don’t even remember what they feel like.

(February. I had the last one in February when I failed an exam and I realised I wouldn’t be able to finish my bachelor’s this year. That one almost broke me, I’ve always had this idea that uni will be the first thing I won’t fail and then I went and failed it. There was a possibility for me to make it – it would’ve been hard, it would’ve cost me a lot – mostly my mental health. And so I didn’t. I didn’t fight, I gave myself a month to heal a bit and to realise this isn’t the end of the world and I didn’t dissappoint anybody except myself – and then to forgive myself. And I came to the conclusion that it might not be ideal but it’s what it is and it’s okay. Maybe I would’ve been able to fight through it. But I felt like I wasn’t and I gave myself a free pass on that one. And I don’t regret my choice for I feel healthy, calm and comfortable now.)

I still get mild ones, mostly before exams. I’ll never get rid of that, I’ll always have a bit of a struggle with procrastinating and then hating myself for it. I used to hate myself for quite a lot, and then I worked that out. I stopped blaming myself for my problems and I came to peace with the reasons of them. I had issues with many things and I’m happy school is the only one left. I have hope that I’ll get over that one as well, sometime, maybe. It’s fitting, really, as school was the first one I recognized and the rest only appeared once I started digging into it.

I’m a lucky person. I know what to do to myself, how to help myself and sometimes even how to help others. Not everyone has that. Some have pushed the idea so deep into their mind that they simply cannot find it anymore, some think it humiliating to show weakness, some reject the reality and some don’t, they realise what’s happening to them and they don’t know how to ask for help or have conditioned themselves into thinking they don’t deserve help, that they’re not worth it. And the few who come and ask for help sometimes find that the help they’re getting isn’t enough.

What I wanted to accomplish with this text (Essay? Speech?) is not only spreading awareness of mental health issues but also to show the people who have it that they’re not alone and even a person who is presenting themselves as strong as I am can suffer from it. I wanted you to realise you’re not weak for experiencing this in whichever form and strength you do. And that there is help to get and it’s not humiliating to ask for it. And if you read this and you feel like it has nothing to do with you, please consider your friends, parents, coleagues, spouses, children. I strongly believe you have a person who’s going through it somewhere around you, and they might be needing your help.

[1295048306607]

Callout post for Rhiannon / tumblr user irl-harleyquinn / not-yandere-kuudere / otaku-umaru-chan

I have been planning doing this callout for a long time but I haven’t since it’s mostly personal beef between me, my boyfriend and aer. Now I’m at that point I can’t let this pass and I want aer to take responsibility of aer actions. I’m very sorry for this being so long. I’m going to make another post if I recall more.

tw for: abuse, suicide, stalking, pedophilia, incest

EDIT 12/8/2017: This post has been updated, ae has deleted some of the posts mentioned, but theres more evidence on their abusive behavior now.

Summarized version: Rhiannon has been abusing both me and my boyfriend since we met aer. Ae has sexually harassed both of us, sexually abused my boyfriend (the other callout on my byf), been generally unapologetic, copied my whole personality and done lots of bad things in general. For me ae caused episodes regularly; one time ae even ignored when I was this close to killing myself, ignored my triggers, ignored my well being in general, started copying my interests etc. 

All in all ae is very abusive and this callout post is mainly made for aer to realize what ae has done wrong and try to change aer behavior in aer future relationships since straight-up telling aer doesn’t seem to help as proven by both my boyfriend’s and my experiences.

EDIT: Ae didn’t admit to any of these and lied about being sorry:

But then on my IMs (censored my irl name for obvious reasons):

NOTE: I have never done a callout post before so I dont know how to structure this well. I also don’t have lots of ‘proof’ or screenshots since I deleted our convos (most of the stuff happened on Skype) and blocked aer everywhere after breaking my ties with aer because at the time I thought ae would learn from aer mistakes, but I was wrong. Most of these are from aer blog or from what I could recover from my old blog.

1. Causing breakdowns on me, not taking me seriously, triggering me

Since I started talking with aer I got this ugly feeling inside my chest to which I probably should have listened. Ae was very clingy toward my boyfriend, ignoring that I had abandonment issues; I am diagnosed with both BPD and DPD and ae knew this. Despite this ae didn’t honestly think about my feelings at all. Below is one example of the gross things ae did to my boyfriend (which caused me to dissociate and have a panic attack) and didn’t change aer behavior even after this.

EDIT 12/8/2017: It has been revealed to me that ae used to sexually abuse my boyfriend which makes this all a lot of worse. Please check the details from my main blogs byf or on his blog.

Rhiannon also ignored me and changed subject when i was clearly in need of help or someone to vent to. This is me talking about my abusive childhood:

And this is me talking about my abusive mom in a middle of episode:

I honestly felt like ae might have been jealous about me because ae obsessed over my boyfriend so much. Me telling about my age regressing and young mental age and aer response is this:

A convo I don’t have screenshots of was me nearly killing myself and ae treated me the same as in previous convos. Ae was the only person online that late so ofc thinking ae was my friend I contacted aer. A mistake. This honestly scarred me a lot because there was a really big chance I had died that night and ae wasn’t helping me at all.

Rhiannon also talked a lot about aer sexual abuse which is kind of a triggering subject to me because of my own experiences. Ae knew this but constantly brought it up. Sometimes ae would talk sexually about my IDs which also made me have break downs. One time ae sent me a picture of aer nsfw art knowing it would make me uncomfortable. According to my boyfriend ae talked a lot about sex to him even though it made him uncomfortable.

Ae also was weirdly coming onto me even though ae knew at the time I identified as aromantic (censored my irl name again):

No Rhiannon it’s called being uncomfortable.

2. Obsessive behavior, stalking, copying, being abusive and manipulation in general, lying

Rhiannon bases all aer abusive behavior to “being mentally ill”. This is complete bullshit since ae does realize ae is being manipulative.

As mentioned before ae was really obsessed with both of us; but mainly with my boyfriend. Ae never stopped talking about my boyfriend when ae talked to me which made me frankly annoyed and triggered my abandonment issues. According to my boyfriend ae spammed him 24/7 and wanted to video chat every single day. Ae got upset if my boyfriend didn’t want to hang out with aer and during group chats commented on every single thing my boyfriend said. Ae spammed me too and after we broke our ties apparently still talked about me a lot as if we still were friends to my boyfriend which I honestly find creepy.

Aes obsessiveness sometimes got very creepy:

Even admits it:

I live in Finland and ae brought up moving here for a few times all over from America after my boyfriend which always turned alarms on inside my head. Here’s one of them and ae is making it seem like ae is half joking; ae isn’t since ae brought it up so many times (censored out my boyfriend irl name just in case):

Ae clearly didn’t notice my discomfort with this or rather didn’t want to notice. Ae also made fun of my grammar even though English isn’t my first language. My boyfriend told me later that ae was in fact a bit racist; ie. making remarks on my boyfriends ethnicity.

Rhiannon has/had?? a fp who ae was even more obsessed about and made a text post (which ae deleted after awhile) where ae wished that this person would break up so ae could be with them. This has also been confirmed by my boyfriend. Ae also admits falling in love yet another friend of aers:

Ae does stalk others too. After cutting with aer, my boyfriend blocked aer on text, facebook, twitter, tumblr, snapchat, skype and youtube, but ae still managed to reach him via pinterest with a long and hateful message.

Rhiannon admits stalking aer ex:

A really minor thing but Rhiannon used to copy my interests a lot. If I were interested in something ae was too overnight. This wouldn’t bother me as much if I didn’t have identity issues such as BPD and DID. My boyfriend noted ae did this to him too.

EDIT 12/8/2017: This wasn’t as minor as I thought it was. As I browsed through my old tumblr convo with ae I noticed that every time I told something about myself, ae seemed to become the same over night. Ae was stealing bits and pieces of my identity. I told ae about my mental health problems, ae had the same ones suddenly. I told about the fashion trend I was into, ae was suddenly into it too. I told about being an age regressor, ae was suddenly too. I id:d as bigender, ae suddenly did too! I told about being aroace at the time, ae became one as well!! My boyfriend noted that at some point suddenly aer blog was pink as was mine and reblogged and posted similar content as I did at the time even though ae had always been stating ae is goth and had dark blog before. Here is about me telling ae about how me and my alter like fairy kei:

Then later:

Ae didn’t bother even use the right terms.

Rhiannon also guilt trips a lot and threatens people with suicide. This is debatable if it’s serious or not, but every time things won’t go aer way, ae will make text posts guilt tripping how ae wants to die and how everyone abandons aer which was one of the reasons I forgave ae tons of times. 

Ae also lies regularly. one example is when ae told my boyfriend aer IQ, then later admitted to lying about the number. Then again ae said ae was "lying about lying" about aer IQ.  So ae is not a credible source and will likely manipulate the situation as ae sees fit.

3. Guilt tripping both of us while breaking our ties with ae

After I finally broke my ties with aer after withstanding aer behavior for almost a year, ae started guilt tripping me telling I shattered aer sense of self even though only thing I did was stopping being aer friend. I had constantly stated how ae could change aer behavior but ae never listened. 

My boyfriend however got it worse. After he got fed up with aer too ae has constantly, I MEAN CONSTANTLY, been vagueing and name dropping him. My boyfriend hinted and tried to set boundaries but this didn’t help. Rhiannon is trying to paint my boyfriend as this awful backstabber even though ae was the one breaking boundaries. 

Here is

A Few

Of them

WARNING!! They get really creepy, just showing how obsessed ae was with my boyfriend

Additional stuff:

Rhiannon has reblogged incest: (the characters are sisters in canon) 

Rhiannon also approves a pedophilic ship:

AE REBLOGGED LITERALLY SEXUALIZATION OF A MINOR (note that ae is an adult too)

Theres a lot more in aer yoi + aer kin tag.

Ae also obsesses over an underaged character:

Ae talked a lot about this character, sexual stuff too, and it kinda freaked me out since she’s only 14.

Ae did stuff like this without our knowledge which is fucked up (note that my mom is a single parent and this freaked me out even though my responses seem calm):

Admits wanting to commit a crime????

The most recent thing ae has done is claim calling aer out on being manipulative is ableist. However, it is ableist to blame mental health for abusive behavior; this claim demonizes mentally ill people as a whole. (I edited out our names again; I’m black and my boyfriend is blue) 

 Not 24 hours before stating the above, ae wrote this:

   Ae is showing clear hypocrisy here.

Rhiannon, please listen. All you can do now is apologize, try to change your behavior, dont make excuses blaming abusive behavior on you mental illnes. Just write an apology and then we can move on. You can’t get us back, but you still have hope for becoming a better person for your future friends. I will keep this callout up until you make a proper apology.

EDIT 12/8/2017: Since Rhiannon didn’t make an actual apology to me or my boyfriend and with the new information of ae sexually abusing my boyfriend, this post will forever be here.

[imissyoulilgucciv]

So this has become more of a journal/grief thing which is interesting because I’ve also had a blogger but set to private since like 13 so thats intense and I have thousands of compulsive letters to no one, but my head just doesn’t seem to sort itself out, unless I can actually slow down enough, like right here. 

Today, 

Woke up 2 hours earlier than usual so I could have 1.5 hours more to instal my art, the word art makes me uncomfortable which is funny to me, so I went to install my thing but there was an accident so instead I got there with 30 mins, I got most of it done but not all, didn’t matter it was an inprogress crit and I could enough up to see. I always have so much in my head and I also used text this time which I thought was also funny because when talked about they called it poetry and I just didn’t even look at it like that 

I feel like this is the first project I didn’t stress over at all, but also had a lot of time to do it and no pressure from the teacher with harsh deadlines or anything so that was part of it, the other part is being in such a place of discomfort and shock that I have to be slow and I don’t have it in me to add any more chaos to the grief I’m feeling. So for me that is actually one benefit of this, its just saying fuck it to a lot of things, but in good ways. 

 my teacher cried during my crit which made me feel just great, and then I didn’t get a parking ticket but I should have, so I was excited and left but then went back to remove my shit and photo and then I went to get my car and bring it closer for the camera (long story) but I drove my car back in a slightly different spot and then still got a ticket because  the chalk was still on my wheels even though I was gone for at least an hour and a half. but whatever theres like 4 hours worth of “work”, not my biggest worries though. 

Then I busted my phone, my thoughts were oh well now I have an excuse for not wanting to respond to this persons text about hanging out.  

so i go get my old phone to see if I should still use that one, and ofcorse doing this leads me to 1 years worth of messages with gus. The struggle is real, I can’t even cry because this is so overwhelming, I knew it was always hard, and I was different this time around because I Was pushing back, but like you just see the back and forward nature and gus is like “im done” this is too much for me and then the next day or same day its like hopeful for the future we have and even one that was a super cute photo of like flower people (to me it was super sexual but he didn’tn notice this until I pointed it out then we joked  about being watered) but he said he wouldn’t worry any more and that he was sure no matter where we ended up we’d do something good or something like that, something that could make a small difference or whatever and that is heartbreaking, then you know the next day all over again fast and furious and I imagine how exhausting that was for gus, it’s overwhelming and I Feel in my state of greif I can understand BUT from the point of view that I have a reason to feel these ways which is much easier than to have a seemingly perfect life, beautiful face, no visible problems and people think stop whining or whatever and you feel crazy as shit because nothing feels right but nothing is wrong except you. Thats not a good feeling. Thats the invisible wheel chair. I just wish I had done so many different things, and said so many different things, I started joining in on the upset because I Wasn’t going to do that this time, I was being hurt to so lots of fuck you’s and I love yous and its fucking nuts, its all nuts, and this was the last time... I had no idea what I was in for. I could have done better but I was too involved, and also blinded by optimism. you don’t know whats in someones head and I forgot while gus was honest, he also had a way of only discolosing certain info, I thought he didn’t do that with me but in reality I can see now he did, just like he picked and chose what to tell his therapist about me, so that my image was protected. Gus was odd in that way, to protect my image because of how he felt, and its not that he was protecting his image to me, but I know he did want us to work out and he was giving me his best sides, and I loved those sides, and to think I got all the good, and yet still by the day, maybe week, maybe once a month you name it we would have really confusing fights where he would insit on withdrawing and I should have let him, I should have understood it was TOO much like he said I mean I thought I felt it was too much too, but like then it comes down to the I dont want to live without you 

and he realizes he can’t live with me 

and he doesn’t want to keep hurting me or his mom, and he realizes he could actually really hurt either one of us when he’s not making any sense 

and its exhausting back and forth, one week feels like a fucking month, and I think his whole teen/adult life was like that, it was super condensed and super fast. He did travel, he did live in a commune for a period, dual citizenship, went through a good amount of personality growth and interests, and the last being one that I respect a lot, permaculture, and then the things that stayed the same with him like the inside jokes and the laughing, his clenliness and interest in some rap with the perfect lyrics and same taste in music, so loving, so embracing. 

I can’t read these and think its over, I still open the door to his room when I get home and I think Hey Gus I’m back!! and I want to tackle him and give him all the hugs and kisses. The thing is we never had that though, I mean I never came home here, this was never my home, always a place I felt welcome but I didn’t live here, and I didn’t come here like every day nor usually when I was done with school, there would be times wher eI’d come but he would greet me at the front door, so this coming into the room and him being there is a fantasy I’ve created, Its the one where I think god like why couldn’t this be how it was, why couldn’t we have been this ideal happy family.. why did you have to leave, and why did I go so hard on you, and I know it wasn’ my choice but I really I’m so stubborn I can’t get over it I can’t forgive myself, I can’t thin it couldn’t have been different because it could have, and it wasn’t and I was part of that circle. I failed in ways I wasn’t aware of but I still feel accountable. 

So now to complete my overwhelming day, 

to see the medium perform ! Gus I hope you come, Ive been talking outloud to him, it comforts me, I think now Im going to be crazy lady , the one that doesn’t talk to cats but talks to the deceased bf. 

Its a disaster. I can’t be the same. I feel so wrong, but also free in all my wrongness because I can say piss off, I’m still working on  my piss of people pleasing skills because it just happens, I get nervous, then adrenaline that allows me to perform instead of being myself, or how I Feel. instead I can only use words and when my expression doesn’t match people don’t take me seriously, how can I blame them ?

I just miss you, 

I have a bracelet from the women in my group, she said she thought of me, that means so much to me, it says “my story isn’t over yet” super cliche but the intention and the person behind it just makes me cry because we share the worst thing imaginable. Blessed. although I’m not sure how to ever wear it because its a set size metal bangle type which never fit my wrists. 

I feel pretty nuts when I write like this, but I’d rather be here than having real friends and feeling like im going to have a melt down. I can’t cry right now even after reading those texts, I don’t know how I feel. I’m confused and upset but its numbing today. 

I do think gus was Bipolar which was what he said the first time around, he had actually been diagnosed, but that fell through, which I partically wonder if that was my influence on him and unfortunately I think between me and drug counceling he was oppossed to understanding the benefit of medication/or even necessity, and also the benefits of being diagnosed so proper treatment can at least be attempted, even though, unfortunately, the books just don’t always work. Like the book of parenting, or relationships because  I Was all wrong, and I have to think from the side of being with someone mentally ill, while I knwo I can’t be treated like crap, most of the time gus wasn’t treating me poorly other than making me hurt by the break ups and while I knew sometimes it was him being withdrawn and worried about how I felt, or being paranoid and we’d be okay sometimes it wasn’t that easy and my emotions would also take over so I’d believe him entirely and I’d be very hurt because it would always be very sudden. if only wed gotten help sooner, but I think again this time he was actually doing everything by the “book” all at once, he was invested in his interests, he was working out, he had a routine, a loving girlfriend, he was sober, seeking help.. 

and then he looses his shit with me and we think okay moving therapy up 

then he looses his shit with his mom 

then he’s gone 

it doesn’t feel good when you’re doing all the “right” things, thats why I said he wasn’t patient, you expect results, tired of hurting people and tired of feeling hurt, overwhelmed and the fucking pyshcotic voices convincing you of things that make no sense and go against what is actually true, the ones that tell you we’d be better off without you. the ones that told you I was lying or only using you, or whatever

IT wasn’t fair for you or us, and this is the price for all of it. We’d do anything to have you back. I still would have rather been taken out first, but that isn’t what happened. I need your mom to have something from you, I have my dreams but she is sinking and needs to hear something, what is “real” doesn’t matter because to me, whats there is real, just like your delusions, they were real.