#i just want to relapse really hard and lose all my friends and loved ones | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

ohdearlordspencerreid · 9 months

Text

SPENCER REID IS DEAD.

My first Criminal Minds Fanfiction!!

Summary:

What would have happened if Spencer had relapsed after Maeve's death? How would he have coped with his new reality? How would the team pull him back from the brink?

'He knew that his one lifeline was getting shorter, as the immeasurably holy and extensively evil vials of poison that sat on his coffee table, atop a mocking copy of Great Expectations, ran out.'

I put this on Ao3 and didn't get much interaction, so here I am, desperate for validation. Please don't repost anywhere, I'm really proud of this ❤️

Warning:

This is a big sad. Please don't read this if you are not in the mood or in safe headspace to see our baby boy and the rest of the team suffer.

This work does not contain any graphic descriptions of drug use, it is all implied, however it does contain a lot of dark and sad ideas including multiple references to suicide and death. Please be careful and maybe read something happy after this <3

Notes:

In my fanon, as in real life, relapse is a part of recovery, I respect MGG not wanting to continue with Reid’s addiction storyline but it feels unrealistic for Spencer to have stayed sober through all his trauma and stress especially with Maeve's death.

Please be kind, this is my first piece of Criminal Minds fanfiction ever and my first time writing anything in several year, nevermind posting it.

Spencer Reid is Dead- OhDearLordSpencerReid

‐--------------------------------REID-------------------------

He felt like he might melt into the floor, a puddle of pain, anger and suicidal ideation. The world stood still but simultaneously ran past him, leaving him alone, bitter and inconsequential. She was dead.

Spencer’s vision swam as he knelt on the hard wooden floor of his apartment, his week old pajamas sticking to him uncomfortably, personal hygiene had become a thing of the past, so had sleep. The dark circles under his eyes made his face look like a skull, he had torn large chunks of his once soft, honey brown curls from his scalp, he didn’t remember doing it. His mouth was dry, he felt like he had been drinking bleach, maybe the misfiring synapses in his previously exceptional brain were on to something, was that a good idea? He just needed everything to stop.

He barely heard the knocking on his door, the rhythmic sound blending in with the constant and overwhelming pounding of his head. He heard voices outside his apartment, but he couldn't bring himself to care, nevermind open the door. He knew his friends would be worrying about him, he knew they loved him, or at least the part of his brain which wasn't currently tripping on a deadly combination of gut wrenching, life ending grief and dilaudid knew that. The active part of his brain however wanted to be left alone, wanted to sit here as he had for days and rot.

‐--------------------------------REID-------------------------

He didn't know what day it was anymore, he was only aware of two things, that the only person who had ever truly understood him, the woman he loved, was dead. And that his one lifeline was getting shorter, as the immeasurably holy and extensively evil vials of poison that sat on his coffee table, atop a mocking copy of great expectations, ran out. Eventually, he would hit withdrawal. He had two choices, his brain fought to use even a fraction of his usually infinite space and exceptional speed to process his options, feeling increasingly dizzy and hopeless.

Option one, call someone and ask for help.

Pros:

You won't have a seizure from withdrawals and choke on your own vomit and die.

Cons:

You won't have a seizure from withdrawals and choke on your own vomit and die. Let it end.

The team will know you’re being weak again, fucking weak!

You’ll lose your job! Who cares honestly..

Spencer shook his head, feeling his slowly frying brain slosh against his skull.

Option two, go outside and buy more dilaudid.

Pros:

More dilaudid.

No more feelings.

No more thoughts.

Cons:

Going outside.

Being a weak, drug addicted loser.

Spencer began to sob, crying so hard he began to wretch, wretching so hard he had to drag himself off of the floor, running as fast as his shaking legs could carry him to the bathroom and throwing up bile. When was the last time he had eaten? Did it matter? He’d always been too skinny, said his mother. His mother, who had put a goddamn genetic time bomb in his brain. Maybe schizophrenia would be easier than this.

After vomiting bile for several minutes, his nose burnt by the acid, his lungs burning with the effort it took him to keep breathing when he saw no point. He looked back up at the vials, they mocked him.

He couldn't go outside. Not like this. But going outside sober was an even more terrifying prospect, primarily due to the fact that he would be sober.

But he wasn't going to call anyone. As he lay down where he was on the cold tiles of the bathroom floor he made peace with the idea that what would be would be.

‐--------------------------------REID-------------------------

He must have fallen asleep or passed out because the next moment he heard a frantic banging on his front door, it sounded like someone was trying to break it down. He laughed bitterly, thinking of Derek, constantly having to use funding the FBI could use on better things instead, on reimbursing people for unnecessarily kicking down doors. The thought made Spencer laugh, high and manic, it made him cringe, the sounds coming from his own mouth. He hadn't used his voice in days, weeks? How long had he truly laid on the teak effect floor in front of his front door?

The pounding continued, it frustrated Spencer, scared him that he couldnt tell if the noise was real, or if it was a fiction created by his self destructive, drug addled, fucking Intolerable, all remembering, overdue for a bullet, genius brain. He stormed over to the door, on unstable legs, his knees covered in dark bruises from hours of kneeling, he looked through the peephole. And who did he see but said insufferable prick. Best friend? Unfeeling bastard? Brother?

All of the air was knocked out of Spencer's fragile body as he saw it was really him. It was Derek Morgan.

‐-----------------------------MORGAN---------------------

Derek Morgan paced the bullpen, his phone clasped to his ear, he sighed in frustration as Spencer’s phone went to voicemail, yet again. He resisted the urge to scream, to throw something. He knew Penelope was going to Spencer’s house this morning, to drop off her usual gift basket, she would surely call him if something was really wrong.

If she smelt the all too familiar stench of rotting flesh wafting from under the young genius's door.. Derek shook himself, trying to push away the dreadful thought. Spencer knew he was there, knew he loved him like a kid brother, an annoyingly smart and unsettlingly traumatised kid brother.. Oh god.

Were they going to carry the tall, spindly, blood splattered body of Spencer Reid out of his apartment on a gurney, would he have to see his ‘Pretty Boy’ in a body bag, would he be asked to identify him? Was he still Spencer’s emergency contact? The mental image was vivid, horrifying. Should he have taken Spencer’s gun? ‘No, because this was the ‘Boy Wonder’ he wouldn't need something as barbaric and neanderthal as a gun to end his painfully short and difficult life’, a voice that sounded distressingly like Spencer’s echoed in Derek’s mind. Derek began to lose control of his breathing, began to gulp air like he was trapped in the desert and he wanted to drown in the oasis he found there, mirage or no.

Derek’s head span as his breathing became erratic, he hadn't noticed before that his cheeks were wet with tears, his hands shook as he struggled to regain control of himself. He needed to be strong, he needed to continue to hold this team together. It was his job to chase away the monsters, it was his job to protect the little guy, to keep JJ and Penelope and Spencer safe. He’d failed in his big brother capacity before and he’d never forgive himself if he did it again. Derek desperately tried to center himself, but it was no use, the world was cracking like a Chicago sidewalk taken over by tree roots, his brain screamed like a gunshot heard from the footwell of a police car, his heart ached like it had that day and Spencer wasn't even dead, yet.

He felt a hand on his shoulder, and turned, eyes wide to see Hotch.. Hotch, Aaron Hotchner, surely he would know what to do, what to say.

‐-----------------------------GARCIA------------------------

Penelope Garcia knocked on the door, softly at first as if worried the shock of a sudden noise alone would stop the broken heart of the cowering young man, unbeknownst to her, laying half unconscious behind the door. She waited a few moments and knocked again, this time louder. She heard a pitiful noise from inside, it broke her heart but as sad as it felt to think, at least it meant Spencer was still breathing in there. She called out, her lips inches from the door, when she was met with only a phrase she would not repeat in polite company, telling her to ‘go away’ she put down her basket of blueberries. ‘They are high in antioxidants and serotonin vitamins’ her internal Reid said, somewhat inaccurately as Penelope didn't know all the facts, as though trying desperately to drown out the broken and unpleasant memory of the real Reid only inches away.

Penelope wanted to help, she needed to be able to do something. This was Reid, this was the soft young man who brought her baked goods when she had a bad day. Here was Spencer, who could be surprisingly hilarious, even if it hadn’t been his intention. He was the ‘Pretty Boy’ to her ‘Babygirl’ and he was suffering, in a way Penelope couldn't fathom. There was no system she could hack, no phone to trace, no dirt to dig up, that would get Reid to let her in. Only the echoing distance between them, as extensive as the time, space and regenerations between the fourth and eleventh doctors…

Penelope didn’t want to leave, she was so scared for him, it was so hard to turn off her instinctual empathy and intrinsic sense of duty to fix things and make them all sunshine and rainbows… but she knew she couldn't fix this. Especially if Spencer wouldn't even open the door

‐------------------------------HOTCH------------------------

Aaron Hotchner has seen agents in distress. He had seen it many times. Hell he’d seen Reid in distress many times. The thought made him sad. He felt like a bad boss. A bad friend. A bad father? It was true he did see Spencer as a surrogate son, partially because he knew Spencer needed a father figure, desperately. But if he was being honest it was in large part to that fact that the kid was just so easy to fall in love with. He had endeared Aaron from the get go, the way he walked around as if everything and everyone was a potential threat, made him want to protect the young agent in the beginning. The way he lit up when he got to share a piece of extremely niche knowledge, the pride he felt when they solved a particularly difficult case.

Spencer was easy to fall in love with.

But now, that fear, that anxiety and self doubt Hotch had found endearing in the beginning when Spencer looked like a very tall child in a cardigan and obscenely large glasses, had transformed into something terrible. He had seen it, the ugliness that lingered inside Spencer Reid, he had seen it when he had returned from his break after the Tobias Hankel case, seen the anger and animalistic fear in the usually sweet mans eyes, he had seen the metaphorical foaming of the rabid dogs mouth.

He’d known he’d never have the strength to put that dog down.

It had eased and the dog had become a sweet little puppy again, following Gideon around, playing chess, devouring books, opening up emotionally. Hotch had been proud, in the years since he had only seen glimpses of that pain, of the Spencer that could go feral and rip out his throat, they had always faded. But this time, this time Spencer hadn’t screamed or lashed out or cursed the world. No, Spencer had seen the woman he loved murdered in front of him and shut himself away. Shut himself in a cage, biting and clawing only at himself, wounded and content to tear himself apart, by brain or by vein. Aaron’s dark train of thought was suddenly broken by Anderson, who knocked on his door and told him that he thought Derek Morgan was having a mental breakdown. ‘No, no more’ Aaron thought ‘Oh God please, let them be, let me take their pain’

‐---------------------------------JJ--------------------------

Jennifer Jareau walked into the bullpen and found a commotion unlike anything she had ever seen before. A small crowd was gathered seemingly centered around someone, a crying child? Who was sitting on the floor, JJ approached cautiously, not wanting to intrude if this was a family member of a victim. Her blood ran cold as she saw the shaking, sobbing form of Derek Morgan, the strongest man she knew, curled in a ball on the carpeted floor, clinging to Aaron Hotchner’s shirt like it was his last tether to this mortal plane. She stepped forward, the crowd parting slowly as she approached. She got immediately to her knees, gently placing her hands on either side of Derek’s face, trying to ask him what had happened. When she heard the name Spencer amongst Morgan’s apoplectic ramblings, she felt suddenly faint, the images she had been desperately repressing came crashing down, pinning her to her spot, to this singular breath with their gravity.

Spencer Reid was dead.

Her best friend wouldn’t make it to thirty, he would remain forever young. His photo would join the other ghostly faces lining the corridor outside the BAU office, the wall of those who had died because of this god awful job. He would join Roslyn in her mind as the cold corpse of a sibling, of a soulmate. Spencer Reid would never get his fourth doctorate, never see the return of David Blaine, never tell her another fact about enucleation, never be a father, the one job beyond behavioral profiler or exceptionally overqualified college lecturer, that he would be truly exceptional at.

Spencer Reid was dead…

Until he wasn't, a bright pink blur ripped through the room as Penelope Garcia descended on Derek, her face a mask of supposed ‘eternal and infallible optimism’.

Spencer was alive.

He wouldn't open the door and she’d barely gotten a word out of him. But Spencer Walter Reid was still breathing and suddenly, Jennifer could too.

‐--------------------------------ROSSI-----------------------

David Rossi, didn’t have any children, hell he wasn’t sure if he would even want any. But he enjoyed his role as the fun uncle to Aaron Hotchner’s strict father immensely. He loved seeing the program he and Jason Gideon had built flourish into an exceptional team, a life saving and justice affording safe haven, a real family. Family had always been complicated for Dave, he hadn't felt this close to a group of people, trusted anyone so much since leaving the marines. He knew that he could give his still beating heart to any one of the BAU members and they would treasure it, nurture it, protect it at any cost. That was why he felt so helpless as he sent lavish gifts to Spencer Reid’s apartment, sent him texts offering to pay for him to take time off, to pay for therapy, they all felt like hollow gestures. The fickle attempts at support by a man who was yet to realise that money doesn't buy you happiness. Dave knew this practically of course, but he felt trapped, paralised by his inability to read Reid, the way he had encouraged him to pursue his relationship with the woman who was now being prepared for her funeral, a woman Spencer had loved with such intensity and innocence, far beyond Rossi’s comprehension.

It was then as he stood in the lobby of Spencer’s apartment, trying to gather the courage to go up and see him that Dave realised one thing Spencer had that he had never been able to grasp, besides a comprehensive knowledge of string theory, quantum theory and the difference therein, vulnerability. Spencer was able to be truly vulnerable with those he loved.. That vulnerability usually lent itself to him as compassion, as a strong sense of justice and as an infinite capacity to love others, to fight for them. But right now? That vulnerability was slowly sucking every happy memory in his seemingly limitless mind, right now that vulnerability was a weakness. And so, too, David was weak. He walked back to his car, silently begging any god or holy being that would listen to give him even a tenth of the strength Spencer had, even a moment to be truly vulnerable, to show the kid he loved him that he would fight for him.

For the first time in many years, Rossi doubted the existence of god.

The strength didn't come.

‐------------------------------BLAKE------------------------

Alex Blake was new. It had taken a while for the team to warm up to her. But not Spencer. He had met her where she lived, where she was comfortable, in a joining of intellects, a tête-à-tête, a friendly competition of defining obscure words. She had instantly felt a kinship with the boy, she knew he hated being called a boy, a kid, but she couldn't bring herself to care. Not out of malice, but out of a motherly instinct, that had laid dormant for several years. He was sweet and smart, she had often wondered what Ethan would be like, she hoped he would be like Spencer.

She had greatly enjoyed seeing him sneaking around, making mysterious phone calls, after learning that he was calling a girl he liked and not under the thumb of some kind of MENSA mafia that is. Alex smiled at the memory of Reid’s blushing face when he had talked about her, the memory tasted sour now, given the dreadful results of Spencer’s first meeting with his mystery woman. She was dead, and Spencer it seemed was content to let himself be buried with her. She knew that pain, the feeling of wanting to drop dead when the person you love is gone…

Alex slowly sipped her coffee, trying to focus on her morning crossword, dreading the phone ringing, signaling another case, but also desperately wanting a distraction. She felt like an intruder, watching Spencer and his loved ones, his REAL family, grieve and worry. She felt like an aunt's new exceptionally dull boyfriend that you have to endure attending your wedding because he's a plus one. She felt she had no right to be as sad as she was, no right to compound her grief for her son with her newfound worry for Spencer. He never asked for that. But she cared, god she cared. She wanted to help him, to help them all, but she feared she would just be a hindrance, an ill fitting cog, ‘the new guy’. She visited Spencer’s house several times, leaving sudoku and crossword puzzles.

She never knocked.

He never opened the door, even if he saw her.

It was like they had a silent agreement, no one was entitled to their pain.

They simply remained, lonely parallels. Broken hearts.

‐-----------------------------SPENCER--------------------

Spencer reeled as he saw Derek Morgan, the real Derek Morgan outside his door, kicking, flailing desperately trying to break down his front door. Derek’s eyes looked hollow, he looked like he hadn't been sleeping. Derek Morgan, the man who could practically sleep standing up during a fire drill. Spencer felt awful, the slimy self loathing he had been feeling since that fateful night, since his teens honestly, slithered up his throat like a giant, blood filled leach. Full of his friends worry, full of wasted potential, full of things that would never be.

Things he had wanted so desperately with Maeve.

Maeve.

It was as if her name broke through to him, he hadn't even allowed himself to think the word, scared he would completely lose his mind. With shaking hands Spencer removed the chain from his door, unlocking it just as Derek kicked it again. Tears streaming down his face, the door hit Spencer hard in the chest, knocking him sprawling to the floor. A small, sweaty, pale, skeleton-esque mess, his arm littered with needle marks, his aura exuding pure shame and grief.

It was then as Derek stood in the doorway, his heart slowly shattering that Spencer noticed he wasn't alone.

The whole team stood behind him in the corridor, full of love and full of fear.

Penelope looked drained of all hope, her skin grey, her pink glasses doing nothing to hide her red rimmed eyes.

Aaron Hotchner’s face was blank, not in the usual serious way he had. In a way that scared him.

Jennifer was shaking clutching a soft purple cashmere scarf, the one from Spencer's desk. It was wrapped around her neck, right next to her sister's locket.

Rossi hovered near the back, clutching his rosary, caught in a muffled prayer, tears freely falling down his face.

Blake was smiling softly, trying to keep it together, physically supporting JJ.

“Help me” Spencer sobbed, falling as he tried to stand, his voice breaking harshly “please, please help me. I need you”

-------------------------FIN------------------------

10 notes · View notes

anxietywriter · 1 year

Text

Body Insecurity for Writers

I kind of just wanted to elaborate more on feelings of body insecurity beyond just being fat and being viewed as almost inhuman because of it. And I also wanted to have some ways that people contribute to the insecurity. Which includes ideas from both my friends' and I's experiences.

Tw: body insecurity, eating issues/disorder!

It is that bitter feeling of someone that doesn't know you personally telling you to be more confident and comfortable with yourself, while you sit there and you don't even feel like yourself. This is not how you dress or act or speak and they keep calling you pretty. But how can you love yourself when everyone loves this other person so much more? And it really really takes time to reconcile with the idea that you are not two separate people.

They always dress the same. Their style is very generic, it's not very distinct and is often something fairly modest. Loose jackets or t-shirts with jeans. Because that way no one can comment on their legs or their shoulders or their stomachs and it's just so much easier. To avoid that interaction. And even if they lose more weight they still dress the same because of that anxiety.

They want to track their weight and calories and do it obsessively because they want to be skinnier. It is not about fitness or health. It is about how little they can eat until they reach x amount of pounds. And they crave food, when they smell it their stomach rumbles and they're so hungry. But to eat is to fail. And to fail is to be ashamed.

When they get to what they think is the ideal body weight or the ideal look they want. They're either happy or just empty. Being skinnier is like great because they met their goal. But also it can be very warped. They still hate themselves they hate their body and everything about it. They reached the weight they wanted. And they're so confused because why is it still not enough.

It is sobering almost the amount of people that treat them differently, that compliment them more instead or criticizing. And when their weight didn't affect their health in a way that was significant, it was depressing. The idea that so many people's love for them was conditional.

No matter what they do, they don't think they look beautiful or handsome or cute. All they can pick out is every perceived imperfection. Their lips, their cheeks, their shoulders, their thighs. All of it. Every single insecurity is magnified to them.

For afab specifically, knowing that you carry more essential body fat for your organs and that it's hard to have a flat stomach if you don't already have one. And still hating yourself for it.

It is being disheartened when people treat you and talk of you as if you are lazy and unmotivated. When they condemn you for existing because you're "promoting obesity". And sometimes it feels like all the shame will crush you. It is trying so hard and still not being enough. It is frustration and tears and relapses and comfort eating. It is damaging your relationship with food in a way that feels irreparable. It is people assuming that only skinny people could have eating disorders.

#tw body insecurity #tw eating issues #tw body image #tw mentally ill #tw disordered eating #prompt list #prompt idea #writing ideas

24 notes · View notes

shi-daisy · 1 year

Note

Ma'am chapter 10 of A Court of Threads and Daisies has me sobbing in a corner and I require fluff compensation in the following chapters! 😭😭😭

Since I don't have an AO3 account I'd like to get my thoughts out here. First of all I've loved this fanfic since the beginning, it takes some skill to fix the zillion plot holes this series has and you are doing so beautifully. Really love how you can make me laugh one chapter and cry the next, the characterization is on point and the ocs are all very lovable. It's great

This one specific chapter though. It was so emotional and sad despite starting out so sweet. Matches so well with the song (Yeah I took you rec of listening to the songs when reading the chapters and it hit so hard during the drowning scene) Can't say I've ever cried this hard before reading a fanfic but goddamn did I got through almost 20 tissues!

It's a small thing but I love how having loved ones and support isn't enough to heal Tamlin just yet, especially since the cause for most his pain it's still guilt and the Night Court's inner circle. Until that's dealt with he won't be 100% fine again. So many stories use love and/or sex to fix a person but I'm glad that here, Tamlin might be recovering but can still relapse when pushed like a real suicidal person would. Thankfully he has Lucien and his family with him no matter what. I was losing it along with them when they thought he'd died. 😭😭😭

All in all I loved both the sweet fluff and the angst and I'm certain I'll love the blood since we all know Azalea won't let the Night Court get away with this. Thank you so much for writing this awesome story, will be here until the end! 💗

Absodpflwskskagh Thank you so much!!! 💗💗💗 Anon it makes so happy to hear you're loving the fic. That's why I make it, it's for us all to enjoy!

Apologies for the tears, I was a puddle of tears too while I wrote it. Ask my Discord squad they all knowwwww. I'm so happy to hear it's making everyone emotional. It is what I strive for.

Yeah one of the things that bothers me most about ACOTAR and romance other series it's that they like to gush about mental health and healing yet don't go through the nasty parts of it. The relapses, and slips one can have even with good support and love, along with the less than tolerable symptoms. Instead they just have the MC's get some dick and call that therapy. This ain't it chief. I do plan to have spicy scenes in the story and romantic love as well as that of family, friends and colleagues play a part for healing but it's not the one solution to our golden boy's issues. Baby needs therapy AND cuddles.

Oh trust me anon. The Night Court are getting what's coming to them. Again my chat group is sick of me saying how bad I wanted to get to the bashing and yes Azalea is about unleash hell. It'll be bloody 😈😈😈

So happy to hear you like it and I'm grateful for the support. Stay lovely!

#ask #anon #acotar ask #a court of threads & daisies #tamlin #pro tamlin #tamcien #lucien vanserra #anti rhysand #anti night court #anti inner circle

6 notes · View notes

spookyscarydemonbabe · 11 months

Text

hello my loves 🫶

i’m not doing ok again.

i know that everyone always says that i never owe an explanation but i love being able to write and interact with everyone and i don’t like being so back and forth on here, it’s always easier for me to give explanations rather than just not posting anything for unknown periods of time.

i’ve always tried to be consistent with things like that but this time of year is always very difficult for me, and my relapse has made it even more difficult on me.

i’m a lonely person. i always have been, and i feel like i always will be.

i don’t have friends i see often, i don’t have anyone on any social medias that i talk to, i don’t have a boyfriend, i’m not a priority in anyone’s life and this time of year really shows me that from seeing everyone posting the halloween parties they go to or the fun fall activities or winter vacations just really sets it in stone for me that i am no ones priority except my own.

i’ve been trying so hard to be happy being alone and going out and doing things by myself but you can’t always do everything alone.

when you spend your whole life being excluded, it’s hard to enjoy it.

i feel like i’m sort of losing my sense of self. i’m having a very hard time finding joy in doing the things i love doing. it all feels so repetitive.

i’m really going to try my best to be consistent on here over the next few months, but for right now i can’t promise anything. i want to enjoy writing again, i don’t want it to feel like a chore. i have a few wips that i’ve been trying to finish over the last month and i feel like it’s taking longer and longer for me to finish anything.

I’m sorry if any of you have felt like i’m ignoring you or not paying attention to your posts and fics and things like that. i love all my mutuals, and i want you to know that even if we’re not mutuals, i love you too 🖤

for right now, all i can ask is for you all to be patient with me 🫶

thank you my loves.

5 notes · View notes

supernaturalfreewill · 2 years

Note

My love, I'm very sorry. I can very painfully understand. It's been months now and I'm still crushed every time I think of her.

I suddenly lost my baby girl Mocha on July 22 last year. She was only 4 and the love of my life. I was at work and missed many calls from my mom and she eventually reached me through calling the hospital I work at and getting transferred to the OR I was working in. Our girl, who was her normal cheery self the night before, hadn't wanted to eat when she woke up that morning so my mom had looked at her gums and they were nearly white. She rushed her to our vet and her red blood cell levels were at 13 when they should have been high 30s into 40s.

Apparently border collies can have underlying hemolytic anemia that gets triggered around the age of 4. Her red blood cells there dying faster than her body could make them. We got her blood transfusions and it barely touched her red cell count. We had gotten her to 18 and the vets had us take her home for the night around 3 am, hoping that resting at home would take the tiny bump and start generating red cells again then we would come back and check in the morning around 11.

When we woke up in the morning, she was breathing heavy and more lethargic so we took her in. It was only 7 am. In those 4 hours, her count when back down to 11 this time. At this point she had already had two transfusions and the vets said they could do another but there was no guarentee of positive outcomes.

We were transferred to our vet research center that had specialists for internal medicine and they presented us with only one other option. There is apparently a treatment that requires a machine that would essentially take out all of her blood to destroy the antigens before replacing it. It would have been a minimum 2 week treatment and baseline 30,000 dollars with a very slim likelihood of actual improvement. And if it were successful, there was still a significant chance of relapse. Essentially, if we did the treatment, she would likely still die and she would have spent the rest of her life away from us, alone in a cage, hooked up to tubes and wires. I couldn't do that to her.

She was so tired and even when she had no energy she still moved to lay on me and comfort me when I was crying because I couldn't save her. We eventually decided we had to let her go because we couldn't keep putting her through pain just so we could have a little more time.

I'm crying writing this because it's so unfair. I'm so sorry you lost Aldo. He was so incredibly lucky to have someone as amazing as you as his mom. I'm so sorry you had to go through something so awful and lose your friend. I know it's been some months, but don't ever feel bad about missing him. You deserve to miss such an important part of your life. And anyone who says otherwise doesn't understand the love and bond we can form with animals. ❤ I highly recommend getting a stuffy that looks like him to cuddle at night or getting blankets with some of your favorite pictures of him printed on it. Those are some of the things I had to do to bring myself some comfort and it's nice to have something to hold on the nights I miss her. ❤❤❤

Yeah okay, sobbing here. Our babies went close together. I lost Aldo on July 24th. You did the best thing for your baby girl and I'm so sorry you lost her so soon too and had to go through that and make such a hard decision. <3 We never get enough time with our beloved pets, so losing them young is extra hard. I actually am getting a pup soon from the same breeder I got Aldo from. Momma lab, who happens to look a lot like Aldo, is expecting in 4 days so fingers crossed there will be enough pups for me to bring a new friend home soon. One thing that has really helped, was getting a pendant that I put some of Aldo's ashes in. Getting back to hiking was hard because I was used to having Kuma and Aldo along as my adventuring buddies. At least this way I can still carry him with me. We sign up for the heart break every time with a beloved pet because they just unfairly don't live as long as us, but it's worth it for all the love we get.

#grief #pet loss

7 notes · View notes

wanderinguncertainty · 1 year

Text

Save me

I've been unwell lately, mentally. There's a lot of things going on in my mind that I can't help but to lose my composure. It only took a single question to blow up my peace of mind and make my insecurities, my traumas to resurface. That's why being kind and being discreet is a must, cause we don't know the battles that a certain person going through. And that's the least that we can do.

I was doing well. I was happy. I was enjoying my peace of mind. I was taking my time. I was doing everything at my own pace. I was motivated to do better in life. I was able to pull out myself from the dark place I've been living in for the longest time. Then someone asked me the question I don't wanna ever hear. I mean, not this time. And that question was enough to break my whole being. My peace of mind crumbled into pieces. My happiness was shattered. I started to question my self-worth again. I started to discern the feeling that I've been avoiding, the feeling of getting left behind. I thought I was doing great. I thought it's okay to move at my own pace. I thought giving my best was enough. But I guess, it's not. I guess it will never be enough. Now, I'm starting to go back to the place I was once in. I'm being surrounded with darkness again. I'm starting to drown with these endless thoughts and boundless questioning of self-worth.

I've been burying these unwanted feelings for a long time. It's not that I don't want to face them or acknowledge them but I just wanna breathe for now. I know for a fact that I am left behind by my batchmates. I know for a fact that they are getting married, engaged and building families, achieving their goals, starting businesses, travelling around the world, climbing corporate ladders and the list goes on and on. Meanwhile, here's me. The me that's in the same place for the past 7 years. The me that didn't make progress for herself. The me that prioritized her loved ones before herself. But, is it really necessary to rub these facts to my whole being? I'm aware that I haven't achieved anything yet for myself, but I was able to provide for my family. I was able to make my brother graduate in college and now, he's a registered nurse. I have small wins too, it may not be directly for myself but.. Aren't these achievements too? I hope people can appreciate these too and stop looking for the things that I don't have nor haven't achieved yet.

I've been beating myself up again to get a grip, hold myself together and just move on from it. I can't stay unstable for too long. I hate this feeling. I hate acting okay in the morning and cry at night. I hate wearing this fake mask and armor of strength when I'm at my weakest. I hate being sensitive. I hate seeing myself alone in these hard times but I also don't want to bother my friends and drag them to my own drama. I hate myself for relapsing. I could've just let it slip but why did I take that comment seriously? But, I really hate the feeling of not being enough, that my best wasn't enough.. Cause I've been giving my best eversince, I've been giving my all to everything, to the point that there's nothing left of me. I'm already tired. I'm already exhausted. I'm burnout. Still ain't enough? I'm sorry for not meeting all your expectations.

It's really funny how I remind everyone that I love that we have our own timelines and life is not a race yet here I am affected by one's comment. It's really ironic how I can save the people I love yet cannot save myself. I don't have anyone to save me from this loneliness, from this trauma. So I need to get up and force myself again, to save myself from all of these otherwise I'm gonna drown and might do something.. Cause at this point, at this moment, I just wanna disappear for good but still want to live. Sigh.

Ack, self. Please, get up. Stand up. Please continue choosing to live. Please, you have to keep going. You know yourself more. You're more than what they think. The world and the people living in it is cruel. But life is beautiful, right? I hope you can see the light again at the end of this tunnel. Keep going, please. Get back on your feet, please. Don't listen to people's negativity, just continue doing everything at your own pace. Self, please. Don't lose yourself. :(

#personal #thoughts #life #naysayers #saveme #trauma

4 notes · View notes

ebbiemunson · 2 years

Note

note

My muse has died. Send 'note' for a goodbye letter my muse wrote to yours as a precaution, in case something, like it has, should happen || @zoomingupthathill

Dear Max,

I don’t want to be writing a goodbye to you. I know you’re going to be pissed no matter what I write. No matter how I approach this I know this letter is going to hurt. I can’t make the hurt less, or take it away. I’m sorry Red. There were a lot of battles I was fighting on the inside I just couldn’t win. I didn’t need to be cursed, I didn’t need to be killed, in the end I think I always knew it would end up like this if I kept going down this road. I’m an addict Max, and I don’t think that’s any surprise.

It got bad again after surviving. The pain, whether I think I was imagining it sometimes or not just made it too hard to bear and I relapsed a while ago. I knew it was going to kill me this time, I think, if I started again. I quit because it was ruining my body, and I was only 17 then. I’m trying to get help, but I know it’s a losing battle. I can already feel the shit way it claws into my body and breaks down everything I’ve been working so hard to heal. And maybe part of me doesn’t want to heal.

If you’re getting this letter, I guess it means I didn’t win, though. It means I was weak. I caved. I fell back into a cycle I couldn’t break out of, and I know how disappointing that is to see. I said I’d never be like my old man, but I guess I was wrong right? This is a shitty goodbye letter. I’m sorry Red.

So now you know the why. I want you to know that despite all of it... I tried. I did fight it. I just didn’t have it in me to fight harder. Cowards way out, fitting right?

There’s something in my closet I want you to have though. Just, y’know, stay out of the boxes. In the back of the closet there’s an old skateboard. I used to try and be cool and ride it sometimes. I thought I was the kind of kid in middle school who would be good at that sort of thing. Spoiler alert, Red, I was terrible at it and I broke my wrist one summer trying to do a stupid kickflip. I suck at walking, I don’t know why I ever thought it would be a good idea to try putting myself on wheels. Not my finest hour.

I made sure to paint it for you. I was going to give it to you for your birthday or something, but I knew that I probably wouldn’t be around.

I’m really sorry Max. I wish I was capable of being better, but I think this is all that I am. And you deserved more than that from your friend.

Love Always,

Eddie.

#tw: suicide #tw: addiction #tw: suicidal ideation #wow these are getting kind of dark oops

3 notes · View notes

graysanatimony · 14 days

Text

I’m gonna have a wee rant about something and joker out will be mentioned 0.0

so last year I was in a really shitty friendship with a girl well call S, she did a lot of stuff that wasn’t very nice and the thing that is relevant to what this rant will be was that she didn’t let me have my own interests, I had to like the outsiders and the 80’s and that was it, she made fun of the fact that I liked Mcyt, Eurovision and other stuff like that so I was made to stop

last November I stopped talking to her, completely cut her off after she made fun of my other friends that she didn’t like

I then got into a bit of a rut mentally then but the thing that helped me the most I think was videos from Eurovision 2023, after the contest last year I didn’t do what I usually do and watch it a million times in a row cause she made fun of the fact that I liked it

the act I loved the most was, as you can probably guess, joker out

I watched compilation videos of them and loved them, I started listening to all their other songs, they are now the only artist that I listen to all of their songs, and they made me happier

when I found out they had a series of videos about their journey to Eurovision I started watching them on repeat

Now I’ve stopped looking at as much stuff about Eurovision, it’s still an interest of mine but I’m just not like watching as many videos about it and stuff, but joker out is still a very large presence in my life

They have written the three only songs I can cry to, and I can never cry

They are one of the only artists I was willing to spend more than a pound in a charity shop for one of their CDs

They are part of the inspiration for my style, at least when it’s warm

They are the reason I’ve found some wonderful people, the fandom is one of the least toxic I’ve been in, at least on tumblr

Tw: sh mention under cut, if you want to keep reading but don’t want to see that skip what is in between the bold, coloured bits

I was in the some classes with satan for two years before we became close around October 2022 and that was shortly after I started SH,because of issues caused by other failed friendships

she saw the cuts on my arm and instead of worrying or something like a decent person might she yelled emo wrist check and gave me “advice” on how to get myself to bleed more, where it can’t be seen by my parents

I was in a really shitty place mentally while being her friend and about a week before I cut her off, we had a fight and didn’t talk for a few days I had panicked cause I didn’t want to lose another friend and I relapsed, this was during Halloween or midterm break so we didn’t see each other cause we weren’t in school, about two days before we were meant to go back something happened that meant we were on good terms again but I can’t remember what exactly, and she asked me to hang out, so I went to her house and at one point she grabbed my arm and it hurt cause there were fresh-ish cuts there and she was like oh of course you would fucking do that you emo instead of what I think would have been the decent thing to do and say sorry and leave it there

After I stopped talking to her I have only relapsed 3 times, once immediately after, once around January, and once 123 days ago

I am 123 days clean

And I am so fucking proud of myself for that

It isn’t that long but,I have worked hard to get here and I couldn’t have done it without my friends being so great, they may not know they helped me but they did

things like Eurovision and joker out helped so much with it too, there have been times I’ve felt so shitty and watching a video of joker out or listening to one of their songs has helped me get out of that, especially everybody’s waiting, I don’t know how to explain how that song helps so much it just does

Padam also does, it has caused me to breakdown in the shower more times than I can think of and that’s a good thing cause I am like a brick wall of emotion and that song is a fucking wrecking ball, just lets me cry when I need to and again I can’t explain this, it makes even less sense than everybody’s waiting cause I don’t speak the language

My family likes to make fun of how much I like joker out and Eurovision and stuff and I don’t want to explain this to them cause they definitely won’t understand it all but like this silly wee band of 5 Slovenian guys might have saved me, this weird song contest did too

I never thought I’d say this about losing a friend but I’m glad it happened, if I was still friends with satan I would never have found joker out, may have never gotten back into Eurovision, I would never have found such a great community of amazing, wonderful people who are brilliant in every form of the word

If you made it this far thank you for listening to my ranting, you are amazing and better than any therapist I have had, to both the friends I have irl that are on tumblr and the amazing people I have found in my time here

I love you all <3 >:3

#this was so much longer than I thought it would be #I just needed to get this off my chest and like I doubt anyone will read this but like I kinda hope someone does #tw sh #this was written at like 01:00 so do not expect coherency #I mean what I said at the end by the way #sorry this isn’t my usual type of posting #I will now get right Back to silly posts #shitty art•things I think are cool and fawning over some men #one of which is almost twice my age #also I’m gonna try to do some more fan art #currently attempting to draw Zala of LPS #which is definitely going so well cause I chose a really easy picture that is not at all awkward to draw with my levels of talent /s #this was originally pretty much just gonna be the bit about Satan but that seeemed too sad and I also wanted to add the bit about the thing #like I said tho I do mean all of it #this is not going in the joker out tag it is way too fucking sad #By the way s is nothing to do with her name it’s based on a joke/reference me and my friend have about her

1 note · View note

marisdisry · 3 months

Text

Entry VI: 07.08.2024

I told my older friends about the deed and just like most, they felt sorry and worried for me.

I haven't been doing well with my eating disorder lately, been uncontrollably hungry in order to make up for this long-brewing sadness within me.

Thoughts of relapsing and cutting myself plague me daily, I would have succumbed if not for the driving lessons that expose my arm. I also want to buy a new blade. Thoughts of going deeper thrill me but worries me just as greatly. I would need to buy a good aftercare set, maybe.

This is all so exhausting.

The memories of that night haunt me, my insecurities. What am I really good for if I'm sexually displeasing? What's left of me? What is there to appreciate?

It seems I really am a good for nothing. Not aesthetically, intelligently, or even sexually. So what am I?

I serve no purpose, no pleasure if the one thing I have - my sex - that should be a default of desire is actually undesirable. Unsatisfactory. I hate it.

Am I really that horrendous?

What if nobody loves me anymore when they find out? What if the next one grows disgusted? What if they feel what he felt and throw me away just as coldly? Am I going to die alone?

I don't mind that. But I don't want to be disgusting. I already am ugly, I at least want to be a good... something. A toy, cock sleeve, therapist, or even a rebound. Anything. Please.

I just want to be useful. I don't need to be loved, I only need to be needed. Desired. I wouldn't know what all these things feel like if I stay this way. I need to be different.

Maybe losing weight would help, right?

I hate this. I hate myself. I hate him. I hate everyone. I want to die.

It hurts. I'm sad. I'm extremely disgusted, disappointed with myself.

Why can't I be better? Why can't I just change no matter how hard I try?

I just want to die. I wish I had the courage to kill myself.

When I was 13, I wrote about how I hoped this feeling would disappear into the years. I'm nothing but a ball of disappointment. Nothing disappeared but the ball of youth and sanity I regain every week.

0 notes

wiltedprimrose · 6 months

Text

EPISODES OF MY LIFE.

———— ONE.

im shameless, i know. i just cant get over it. i just want you to know that you left so much memories in me. there are so many things and places which remind me of you. it feels like i cant even live my normal life ever again. i sometimes struggle to even catch a breath. still remember how much i trembled that night. losing weight, cutting my hair short. i dont know, perhaps thats just hows life after break up. dont worry, im getting better now.

i have so many things i wish i said and did to you back then. i regret i didnt do any of that just because i was too embarrassed if i look like i love you too much in front of you. yet here i am, dare to hope you only take the good memories when youre with me. such an irony while i might be hurting you more than creating good memories with you. im sorry.

if later in life you dont seem to find anything youre looking for in someone else, come back to me. i might still standing at the same door, waiting for you. i’ll be welcoming you with the warmest hug i could give. i promise i’ll love you better.

i hope you can go back to the life before you met me. you dont need to lie just to make me feel good anymore—im sorry if you thought you need to do it when you were with me—im sorry if being with me made you unable to express your true self. and while youre doing that (going back to the life that you had before), i’ll also try my best to move on with my life, living a better life. spent almost 3 years with you made me learn so many great things. thank you. i wish i could be with you longer because everyday i just want more of you. i dream about the day where i can fully live my life with you, share and discuss our thoughts whenever we want to, listening and to be listened, doing fun things together, waking up and feel safe because i’ll get to see your face every morning. i wish there would be a way to make “us” happen again. i wish i could be with you longer.

im sorry. youre always be enough for me.

eat well. live well. have a good life.

———— TWO.

life after break up sucks. what about the time when i miss you too much? what should i do to fill the void after you left me? never imagined there’d be a time for me to keep on going living my life without you in it.

can i call you?

i really want to hear your voice.

oh, life after break up sucks. i cant even call you whenever i want to and tell you about my day. i cant even send messages to my friends, especially guys because i dont feel comfortable texting them. i have nowhere to go. i miss you so much.

i wish i could be with you longer.

turns out i love you too much to the point im irrational sometimes.

———— THREE.

just a mess. my messy thoughts. i’ll just write whatever that popped in my head.

why do i love you so much it hurts… i tried to think about your bad habits, bad treatments you gave to me while we were together, and yet i failed to be mad at you. i found myself hoping for you to come back again. i want you. it felt right when i was loved by you. trying hard not to call you for only god knows how many times. i hate when i relapse while im at work, my mood suddenly drops and i feel empty inside. cant we meet up just for me to have some closure? i wake up every morning just to be reminded that youre not here with me anymore. cant we just try again and rethink about everything? fuck i hate it because every corner reminds me of you. why did you left so much memories in me I JUST CANT TAKE IT ANYMORE. day by day those memories make me feel miserable. i want you and only you. WHY DID YOU THINK YOU CAN LEAVE ME JUST LIKE THIS? WHY DID YOU NEED SO MUCH TIME TO REALIZE THAT WE ARE NOT MEANT TO BE? so cruel. bringing up my old mistakes, made me feel guilty and blaming myself. i believe we already talked about that and i thought you were okay with it? i left it all in 2022 and never want to do it again because I KNOW IT HURTS YOU. only have my eyes for u bc i dont want to hurt you again. whenever i chatted with a guy it felt like i cheated on you and thats why i dont really replied to them. I RESPECT YOU AS MY BOYFRIEND. about that one specific person you’ve always mentioned, it happened when that bitch dmed me about you. i thought i wouldnt want to be in the middle of other’s relationship so i left you. I DIDNT WANT TO TALK ABOUT IT NO MORE BC I KNOW YOURE UNCOMFORTABLE. i said it was okay and it was your past so i never want to talk about it ever again. I RESPECT YOU. im responsible with what i chose. i tried to change my way of seeing things and learned about everything you dont like. when you stood me up that time bc you suddenly said you couldnt make it to my office while im waiting for you to bring my flashdisk, remember what did i tell you? i told you it was fine. i wasnt angry nor badmood. bc i was fully aware that you might had important things to do. you also hate it when i complained. I LEARNED ALL ABOUT YOU AND TRIED HARD NOT TO DISAPPOINT YOU. i learn to be a better person. i learn to be more patient and think about whatever you said to me. after you said you hate when i complained about you being late, i never got angry whenever someone makes me wait for them. i left my ego. but you didnt want to see it as my effort. you always thought your effort always bigger than me, no? and YOU? constantly reminding me about my past mistakes, made me feel bad about myself. think about how many promises you gave to me and now you think you just can go away with it and YOU REALLY THINK I’D EASILY FIND SOMEONE NEW? lol. i guess im really that cheap in your eyes. LITTLE DID YOU KNOW YOUR PAST TRAUMATIZED ME. THATS WHY IM SO WORRIED WHENEVER YOURE OUT OF THIS TOWN. im happy when you updated me and told me whatever you were doing that day. i just cant forget about that dm. it was terrifying. you never want to share everything to me while i always shared every little thing with you. was afraid you’d find someone else who could listen to your problems better than me. about your parents, if your fam talked to me how theyre mad at me bc youre the only one who initiates to become closer to my family, youre the one who initiates to bring me closer to your family, im quiet sad bc you do know i never go to your town even after my dad moved there. but once my family had a plan to go there, i automatically think about your family. i even bought a new cloth and ordered so much snacks bc i was excited to see your parents. you knew about it. sadly at that time i suddenly couldnt go there bc my car broke and need to be repaired. my dad went home and brought all the snacks i ordered that day. that night when i visited your house bc i know your parents there, did you tell me to do it? no. i planned to go there myself bc i wanted to see your parents so that they know im serious with you. i want to be with you.

i often said sorry to you bc i know i couldnt reciprocate all things you gave to me. you said it was ok so LET ME ASK YOU, whats with the change of heart? bc when you decided to leave, i just read contradictions in every reasons you pointed out and all the things you said to me when we were together. you just wanted to justify your decision.

you know i didnt want to be with you since day one. i rejected you many times. i wanted our relationship to end since day one. i told you to find someone new since day one bc all we did just argue with each other. BUT YOU REFUSED. you asked for a chance, second chance, and so on BUT WHEN I FINALLY GAVE IN AND FELL HARD, you decided to leave. and when i asked for a chance, you didnt even want to give it to me. funny bc after all these times you always said we could always communicate yet this time you chose to not to do it. ive only known you for almost 3 years—a short moment—so i thought it was normal for us to have different opinions. like what you said to me, we could always discuss.

you just left me here all alone in the dark while blaming myself and you think that i could go on just fine with my life. being with you used to be my dream. now that it shattered, i dont know how my future would be. you dont know how it feels like whenever our friends asked me about you. you dont know how it feels like to relapse whenever i finally thought i’d be just fine without you. you dont know how hurt it is when something which once was your biggest dream has to be buried.

———— FOUR.

im tired of feeling this way. never thought i need you so much. cant we just go back together?

———— FIVE.

one last cry.

heard about you from a friend. they didnt tell me before bc they know i’d be sad. now i know and i dont know how to feel about it. stupid me for begging you to stay in my life. stupid me. whats the point of trying to change things we cant change? stupid me. but i guess it is what it is. i’ll deal with it on my own. please be happy with whatever you choose to do with your life.

guess it’s time to put you out of my mind and start anew.

god bless.

1 note · View note

vent-and-advice · 6 months

Note

hey I just don’t know where else to put this I just feel like I’m getting so much worse.

I’ve known something was wrong since I was about 7 and I’m 17 (turning 18 in November) now. I just feel like I’m spiraling downhill and I’m worried that by the time I feel safe to reach out for help as right now I’d need to go through my parents to get said help and considering the symptoms I have and the way my mom has talked about people with said symptoms I don’t feel safe reaching out right now, I just feel like once I can get help without informing them I’ll need a god damn hospital. I’ve repeatedly nearly relapsed into self harm and straight up relapsed into self harm multiple times, and today it just feels like I’m reaching a new low. I don’t mind when people hurt me. Like one time a friend kicked me as a joke and ended kicking much harder than intended and I just didn’t care. With the future approaching like this and knowing the current economy I’ve been suicidal since sophomore year and a bit of freshman year and eighth grade. It got a little better since I made some new friends but it just dipped today and during gym I just thought to myself that it’d be nice if I fainted and hit my head hard enough to die. I can’t help but feel like I’ll never be enough to live this life. I feel like I was supposed to be the healthy and capable one in my family who would go on to accomplish a lot and give back a lot but now I can’t. I just can’t and I feel like I’ll probably die at 30 now bc I’ll either die of the elements, illness, or ill just fucking kill myself. I also just feel like I’m a bad friend. I got a new friend group recently and we did leave one person bc she was really draining to us and one person isn’t in the group bc he didn’t get along with two other people (I’m still friends with him) but now it seems like another person is leaving now bc he doesn’t like me and had a confrontation with the other person. Now it feels like I mostly just have this one person to hang onto and I feel like I shouldn’t be as attached as I am. I just feel like losing him is a last straw. If I do I’d kill myself. I just feel like I can’t ever give him a reason to leave me and I just shape myself to meet his needs and wants and never tell him anything about me that he wouldn’t like, because frankly, I’d die if he wasn’t part of my life anymore. But now I feel like because I’m so attached I’m a bad friend because I shouldn’t be like this. I don’t want to tell him because I don’t want to upset him and he’s already dealt with obsessive and toxic people and I don’t want to be like those people. It’s just becoming too much and I’m afraid I’ll reach a breaking point soon and I don’t know what to do.

Woah there, friend. First, take a nice flower. It smells lovely 🪻

Now, seems you’re dealing with a lot. First questions you’ve gotta ask yourself. Why are you afraid to reach out? People who love you will want to help! If you feel like it’s not safe to reach out to a certain person, think:

•Can I reach out to my parents?

•Teacher you can trust or guidance counselor

•In an extreme circumstance, a suicide hotline.

As for the you not caring if people hurt you thing, I believe it may stem from a lack of self love! Some good ways to self reflect is doing small things and enjoying this world. Flower picking and picnics are a great way to get some nice sunlight and being outside actually helps a lot with mental health!

Are there any clubs you can join? Group retreats? Maybe even picking up a little hobby! Dr. Amanda used to do Chess Club, which is where she made a lot of friends!

And most important of all is to pinpoint your emotions! Not always can we figure out why we feel this way or what it is we’re even feeling. But sometimes writing it down can really help you get close! Maybe start journaling your emotions and, if you’re comfortable, show it to your school’s guidance counselor and say that that is how you’re feeling.

Here are some journaling ideas:

•What you did today

•What you want to do tomorrow

•Draw

•Try to describe things that make you uncomfortable

•Try to describe how you feel about the people in your life

•Try to describe how you feel about yourself

Next, look at yourself in the mirror. Like actually look at yourself. Every little imperfection that you may hate. Touch those little imperfections and smile and tell yourself that they’re beautiful. That you’re beautiful. You are a rose!

Practice self care. Bubble baths, meditating, exercise, and basic hygiene are all fantastic for your mental health. That friend of yours you mentioned? Maybe even invite them to go to the gym with you or just to meditate with you! Tell them you’re trying to heal and you need someone to lean on a bit for support. And after a while, try doing those things yourself to become more independent.

My dear two legged friend. You are not a mere flower. You are a whole bouquet 💐

I know you can do this. I am your little friend, Bee, and I love you! 🐝

#vent post #Vent and advice #Advice #bee’s blog #mental health #take care of yourself #mental health advocate #i love you guys #take care of your mental health #mental health advice #mental health awareness #take care of yourselves #Anon

0 notes