#just because I’m bipolar doesn’t mean I wanna kill myself???

[gods-favorite-autistic]

TUMBLR. I SEARCHED UP THE WORD BIPOLAR NOT “I’m gonna kill myself” WHAT THE FUCK

[awkwardspontaneity]

Hey are you still doing BOTW matchups? If so could I request one? I'm a ENFJ, 5'3", and super competitive in almost every aspect of my life. I am 100% protective of my friends and family and will fight someone who dares hurt them. I can be extremely hot headed but only because I get super passionate about things and I am bipolar type 2 (the more depressive kind). However, my bipolar doesnt hinder my life or friendships as I refuse to be beaten by my own weaknesses, but when I do have a manic episode or a depressive episode it can be hard to pull myself out. Thank you in advance and I look forward to your response!

Heyo!! I'm always available to for a request!! Thank you so much for the ask! Hope you enjoy!! Have a great day and remember to eat and hydrate 💕

I match you with Revali 🐦

Short squad ftw!!

I feel like you two would be that power couple that knows they're the shit and people are kind of in awe of you both.

You're such a strong team and you learned to read each other in the way where you can have whole conversations without speaking

Revali is a super strong personality and he can come across pretty arrogant so you're there to pull him back to the ground and remind him he's not invincible.

You also stand up for him if anyone ever thinks of making any bad comments, something he hugely appreciates, even if he doesn't say it.

He shows his appreciation by fighting anyone who would say a single bad thing about you.

Revali is the type to show how much he cares through actions. Things like braiding your hair back in Rito fashion or always bringing along an extra scarf in case you get cold. It's the little things that speak volumes.

Queue Revali going on about how you should know better while wrapping 40 scarfs around you

You two have friendly competitions about a lot of things like getting somewhere first or killing the most enemies in battle. Sometimes you argue over larger enemies counting for more points when your scores are close. (LOTR with Legolas and Gimli is the vibe)

Sometimes little arguments can lead to tensions. Revali is known for his snide comments which can strike a nerve. He means we'll most of the time he's just not good with words, so a comment about needing to be smarter when you get hurt can make you feel defensive. He says it out of worry, it's just harder to understand that in the heat of the moment

If anything ever blows up into a fight neither of you are willing to back down and can get pretty intense. You have an agreement that when things get tense you take some time to cool down before talking because you both know your own tempers can get in the way.

You always talk things through because neither one of you want to repeat the same disagreements and you know not talking through the issue might leave you both feeling regrets and guilt. It's just better to calmly work through what happened and how you really feel.

You both are passionate about things and sometimes you clash but you never let it get in the way of things.

One of Revali's absolute favourite things to do is listen to you talk. You could go on forever about the things you love, or something you did that you enjoyed. He finds it relaxing to sit back and just watch you talk. The way your eyes light up brings a warmth to his chest he never wants to let go of.

Sometimes the two of you will sit by the fire and just talk throughout the night about anything you can think of. You've been told to be quite more than enough times but nobody's really bothered by it. It's sweet to listen to the way your voices carry across the breeze into the night as you talk about your pasts and futures.

When it comes to your depressive episodes, sometimes Revali can be slightly dismissive in the beginning. He truly doesn't mean to hurt you, but it takes him a bit to understand this is more than an off day

The moment Revali realizes that you're pulling away he's right there to pull you back. He'll do everything he can to understand what you're going through so he can be by your side through it all.

He may act all tough but Revali is running you water and snacks and more blankets throughout the day. You wanna sit and watch the sunset, he'll carry you in a burrito to the landing. Sometimes he'll offer a competition like a shield surfing race down the mountain when you seem better to try and take your mind off any darker thoughts.

He's not the best at giving advice but he's there to listen whenever you need. Even if it's not really directed towards him he'll sit with you, playing with you hands or hair, and let you ramble on to work through your feelings

He won't let you pull away or think you're weak because he knows firsthand just how strong and incredible you are. Even the strongest people need to lean on others sometimes and he's gonna make sure he's always there to hold you up when you can't do it on your own.

Overall 10/10 birb who loves you so much he doesn't know if he could ever really voice it. You ground eachother while reminding eachother of your strengths. Your competitive nature's compliment eachother in a way where you can let loose and have fun with your friendly games. At the end of the day you're together and that's what matters most to you.

[herrandomnesss]

There's a bipolar worm in my coffee and she has long suicidal shower thoughts

There's a bipolar worm in my coffee and she has long suicidal shower thoughts that make no sense, yet are the epitome of wisdom. 

She quotes my son "Oh, my cunt! I have a great idea" and goes on a rollercoaster ride from the silliest of thoughts to the secret behind our existence. But every time she starts to burp out an idea, it slips, and she gets mad and begins the longest of rants; all in my head. 

The other day, she threw it all in my face: It's not that you want to die that's making you suffer, quite the contrary; it's that you want to live. It hurt so much to hear the truth put out this bluntly that I almost slit my throat immediately. Next, I was giving this massive it's-not-freedom-from;-it's-freedom-to and we-shouldn't-be-victims-even-when-victimized trends a chance, reading one too long article about how we shouldn't care about what holds us captive and instead, focus on what we yearn to do. 

I finish my white-man-status pursuit with an article about how we linger to the victim status, which holds us back from healing. The bitch worm then slapped me in the face, "Oh my fucking cunt, are you trying to be a Karen now, Sarah?! Go meet them deadlines so that you don't lose your living."

Why is the warm so mean? Why can't she let me buy white-man thoughts designed for my consumption?

“And what's with all that macho 'You're strong and brave' put out as feminist whatever? Why is your value judged by some misogynistic standard? And why do you keep on buying in?"

Silenced, I shake my head, hoping she'd leave. But the worm has super powers, she insists "You're no chicken for not wanting to tell your story." I let out a sigh of relief. 

But this is one diabolical sly worm, she shits on my parade, "You're still a chicken though. You can't voice out your anger that all you want to do is say how what happened to you made you feel; how despite the fact that it doesn't define you, it made things different, thus making you different."

Ugh, I'm getting homicidal now. 

She interrupts, "But it's OK to be a chicken anyways. Now go make me an omelette, you useless bitch."

I spill my coffee in the sink. The silly worm leaves my coffee as I do. And jumps into my brain. "Did you know that some woman made her husband a sandwich, served it to him, then killed him before he could eat it?"

I feel scared. This worm is insane. And I could really lose her help; I'm insane enough on my own. I reason with her. She says "Fine, you're stupid anyways. I'm going to sleep."

I count to 10, take a deep breath, fix my kid some food, then start to sob uncontrollably. I go to the bathroom to have some privacy. I watch some porn and detachedly cum. I'm not sure if that's because I'm on a full bipolar low or if the porn was a lot like all the awkwardly bad sex hetero humans have. And all the good sex hetero humans have doesn't seem to make up for the bad that sometimes, with triggers all around, I just don't want to be touched.

I feel queerer these days; contemplating on whether things would have been different for me if I had had the chance to better connect with my queer side earlier in my life. 

"Hahaha, are you coming out now?" The evil bitch woke up and she's back to sodomise. Joke's on you, stupid worm. I came out a long time ago.

"You're quite funny. I'm glad you believe that. Tell me, Karen-wanna-be, wasn't this one good example of the freedom-from/the freedom-to fake dilemma?"

My heart is now burning with hatred for this worm.

My kid cries for help and saves me. It's something silly, but I comfort him anyways. He feels better. Then he starts fake crying. I ask him why he's being overdramatic in the most understanding tone I could summon. It's fun to be overdramatic, he says. The nasty worm interrupts again, "now we know who he takes after."

I jump to my defense. I'm grieving, you evil bitch. "What is it exactly that you're grieving?" She interrogates. The cynical tone could not be missed. 

My mom, my dad, life as I know it, my ability to work, to have good sex, to be fun to be around. I'm not fun anymore, not even for me. And my hypomania, that too I grieve."

The worm tears my brain as she grows in size, but for some reason lowers her voice whispering "Take your meds."

I have nothing to say. I have nothing to think. My brain is now void. There's nothing there but a rusty shade of grey. "I guess you're searching for that old 'the meds will make you fat' excuse in your vacant head," she eyes me with a disgusted look that screams "How pathetic, really!"

I find myself defensive again. Do you know how people react to weight gain? My whole adult life can be summed up in two poles "Why did you let yourself gain so much weight? and "Why are you crazy? Take your meds, psycho."

And those are the kindly concerned friends. 

I just need to fuck up, worm. Why can't I fuck up anymore? I'm dwelling under pressure. I'm buried under heaps of responsibilities and I can't catch a breath. Why can't you just give me a break? After all, you're only a fragment of my imagination. I made you. Please don't make me kill you. I have enough guilt. The cross on my back is already too heavy to bear. 

She weeps. I feel awkward. Why do I always end up in the comforting shoes?

I'm not sure why you're crying now, worm, but it's ok not to be ok, I say, trying to end the situation as fast as I could. 

She senses my discomfort. It pleases her. "It's because you already fucked up but you don't know yet that I'm crying," she murmurs with a half smile. "But it's ok not to be ok, Sarah. You lost a lot and are shackled by a lot. Fucking up is the human thing to do."

She grows big arms. She hugs me. She warns me what an evil place for me this country is. She finds it very distasteful how a purely pedophilic crime was turned into a conversation about sexual harassment between adults. "I can understand how this shit is scary. I'm just a worm and I don't even exist, but I find it horrifying, too."

I feel calmer that someone understands. But I'm now all jaded and weary. Then something unexpectedly sad occurs. The worm leaves with no goodbyes. My brain cells are back and fully functioning. I feel electric waves running all over the place. I need to shut it down again. Where did all the grey blank walls go?

I keep rushing around my brain, searching for the turn-off button, to no avail.

I finally find a goodbye note from my foe and friend saying "It's OK not to be OK."

[brw]

hello! so ur the only one i know who likes hank pym lmao and i just wanna ask what is he like in the comics since i havent rlly had the time and effort to read it?

i dont rlly have an attentions span to even try (sadly this is annoying) and maybe u can drop some hank pym reading list if u have one :0

ooo hi anon! i'm glad you asked!

hank is, if you ask me, a greatly misunderstood and mistreated character, who was subjected to things which were DEFINITELY a product of the time he was being written in character wise, but rlly that shouldn't be held against his character as a whole. like i don't want to imply that you are under an obligation to like hank, or can't dislike him. but calling him abusive is, uh, certainly a stretch, and it kinda annoys me, the amount of people who have obviously only seen That Panel™ out of context, and have MAYBE read one or two of his appearances in mighty avengers or whatever out of context. it just. very much so annoys me.

anyway! hank is, imo, a very intriguing character. like other people/heroes, he is like, genuinely a good person with good intentions, and wants to improve things for everyone else. but his flaws are obvious and self-sabotaging. in his desire to be appreciated and loved as his counterparts reed richards & tony stark are (in universe, at least) he often ends up coming off as absorbed and egotistical. and certainly, hank can get a bit of a big head about his intelligence, but like literally every other genius character in the MU is the same. but for hank, because its so closely related to his need to be loved and praised, its more interesting to me! at least in my very humble opinion. he often gets self-destructive with his work habits, has an unfortunate tendency to fixate on things and to beat himself up continuously on things that aren't really his fault, all of which are possibly related to his bipolar disorder, his anxiety disorder or his depression, all of which he canonically has & has seeked medication for. initially too, in the early days where pseudo-psychology was more common, he was also implied to have a dissociative identity disorder. that was in fact where yellowjacket, and all his other identities of him came from at first; he claimed he killed hank pym when he was yellowjacket because he genuinely believed he had done so. janet seemed to think that by marrying him she could sort of merge the identities together or whatever, but that... obviously didn't work out lmao. this kinda stuff has since been abandoned, but that was it initially, as well as him being unstable due to overexposure to pym particles. here's an article that goes more in depth abt it.

but yeah! generally he's a well meaning guy who gets excited about bugs and gets flustered easily and does try his best, but does struggle, majorly with his mental health. i don't think he's seeked therapy, which i can understand he probably doesn't have much time for but i still think it would be beneficial for him to get; after all, antidepressants have been known to trigger manic episodes in people with bipolar disorder, so i can't imagine with the mix of all three treatments he'd be very coherent lmao (not that i'm against medication; i am requesting some soon for my insomnia myself, but taking a lot can have ill effects if you don't first consult a doctor)

as a personal bonus, if you do ever decide to read one or two comics with hank, i suggest the avengers a.i series! it's very sweet, very funny, hank is written pretty well imo and there's bonus content of vision being a dork and seeing a doombot forced into heroics against his will. i also recommend his appearances in vol 2 of West Coast Avengers, where he decided to save lives and help people not as ant-man, giant-man, goliath, or yellowjacket, but just as hank pym! this is after The Infamous Scene, where he has apparently "merged" and intends to do his best just as himself, which is a powerful choice to make imo! he does almost attempt suicide though in issue 17 so watch out for that if that triggers you at all.

i do love him a lot, he's obviously like, not perfect but he has a lot of potential and i would really like to see a new arc with him where they explore him coming to terms w/ all his mental health & being diagnosed at a later age.

and finally, have two panels of him being cute :>

he is so small...

also, if you haven't watched it i also suggest the avengers: earth's mightiest heroes cartoon! it's very good for hank content, him and janet are adorable together in it.

[enthusiasticmusicalquotes]

How is deh a bad depiction of mental illness? I suffer from social anxiety and thought ben platt did very well

Anonymous said: not that i really disagree with you, but why exactly do you think deh is bad representation of mental illness? i’m not particularly fond of it myself i would just like to hear your reasoning 

before we start our discussion i would like to preface with the fact that i too have social anxiety, as well as regular anxiety, and i take antidepressants because my depression got super bad over the past year. i would also like to mention that i do enjoy the music of this show and i listen to it whenever i comes on my iTunes, but i listen to the music understanding that the show contains problematic themes and plots.

Evan has severe anxiety/social anxiety. personally, as someone with severe anxiety, I don’t understand how he wasn’t completely breaking down with stress after the very first conversation with the Murphys. if I was him, i would’ve been so wracked with guilt that i wouldn’t have continued the lie. it just seems unrealistic to me.

Evan exploits a kid who committed suicide and lies to his family for (weeks? months? idk the timeline) far too long. kind of like how Tootsie paints trans people as liars, DEH seems to also suggest that people with anxiety are liars (but not necessarily about their anxiety. just liars and bad people in general.)

something that always stuck in my head was that in “Words Fail,” Evan says “I” repeatedly but never really addresses the harm he did to the family. he’s too busy feeling sorry for himself and it doesn’t come across that this is supposed to be an apology for his actions. in the article i link in #4, it talks about how this show subconsciously suggests that people with mental illnesses are selfish, and this is a good example of how that is illustrated.

in this article, they talk about how this show uses mental illnesses as plot devices/metaphors instead of getting to the root of them. contrast that with Next to Normal, which dives deep into bipolar disorder and the effect that Diana’s illness has on the Goodman family. it would’ve been *better* to have a plot like this for DEH: Evan and Connor are actually friends, Connor kills himself, and Evan finds ways to cope with his anxiety and depression by starting The Connor Project with Connor’s family. no lying, no deceiving, and you learn about how mental illness affects people, especially high school students. 

this is a good quote from the article in #4: “Social anxiety isn’t some accessory that can be tacked onto a character to make them more interesting or unique. It isn’t some adorable, relatable quality that can be played for awkward or sympathetic comedy, to an audience that has not, in its entirety, experienced this kind of clinical anxiety for themselves.” (this rest of this part of the article is really good, you should give it a read) 

also the fact that Connor is barely fleshed out, and all we know about him from his like 5 minutes of being alive on stage is that he’s a stoner asshole who’s mean to his family, bullied at school, and simultaneously is a bully to everyone else. he’s the plot and nothing else.

there’s probably more, and i’m not going too in-depth into it, so if you wanna read more here are two articles to look at: one / two

[shippingmotherfrickers]

So. This is not the first story I wrote but it is the first on here so please don't be mean. This story is about a dream I had. Enjoy.

Just hanging around

"She is hanging above you. " 

I look up above my head but froze in fear. My heart stop beating, my blood stop moving, my legs giving out under me. The smell of rotten flesh filled my lungs. On my knees, I could feel my arms on my side as eyes burn the image in my head of the girl. The girls blood drip on my head trickling down to my face. I don't know if I should scream or if I should run, or if I should kill myself. My head scream with thoughts begging me just to look away. My brain pounded against my skull. The women only hanging by a rope from her neck. Was she alive, was she playing dead like my sister? Her arms started to move while her hands slowly traveled to my neck. I felt her nails, no, I felt claws on my neck.

Her claws pluge right into my neck lifting me off the ground. I could feel tears streaming down my face as I cough up blood. I struggle against her despite the pain I was going through. I wanted the pain the stop, the girl lifted my head up to her face. I wanted to scream but the nail was right in my vocal cords. Her eyes were a deep shade of red. While get hair was dark as the night sky. Her pale skin broken like a porcelain doll. She raised her other hand to my neck and stab her nails right into my neck just below her other hand. She slowly open up my neck like opening curtains from a window. The pain was unbearable, all I could do was feel my head being rip off of my body. She pulled harder on my neck tearing into my neck. The blood spilled out like a fountain. She teared my head right off leaving my head on the ground. Her and my blood mix together she cut her own rope and she fell to the ground with a thud.

I woke up with shock still in my system. The sun was shining in my eyes causing a headache. My memories were blurry but I could remember the bus crashing. I slowly sit up I could feel something squish under me. I look down to my friend covered in glass with a mix of blood, her eyes open wide with one shard of glass in her eye. I look up from my friend's dead body I could tell the bus was upside down. The seats were above me, the bus driver body hung upside down with the seat belt still on her. I could see her blood drip down from her head. The shock in my system buzzed with fear. I could feel my body start to shake.

"Heh... Ha. Ahhahahaah"

I started to laugh as I put my head in my lap, rocking back and forth on my friend's body. I could feel the tears threatened to fall from my eyes but made no move. I could hear serins getting closer to the bus. That could be in my head. After all i'm just dreaming, none of this is real. I will wake up, hug my friend,  go on a nice trip and have a great time. Then go back to my family where mom will already be waiting for me. I dig my nails into my neck drawing blood. "I can wake up if I kill myself" I repeated. I started to scratch on my neck. I pulled and pulled on my neck trying to scrape off the feeling of guilt. Just end it. Just stop it. Just get this thing out of me! I grab the the glass that was in my friends eye and stab my neck. I always did love a happy ending.

The warm water washed over my hands as I scrub as hard as I could. The dishes were such a pain making the day even more bitter. Especially, when you know your best friend's was on a class trip. I was supposed to go a class trip with my best friend Emily. I was supposed to be with Emily and Tasha (Emily best friend). I scrub harder on the dish finally get the old cheese out of the dish. I put the last plate next to sink and go to dry my hands. I was grounded last minute by my parents or more so, my mom. I didn't clean my room for 3 straight days, I call it a record. But, of course my mom didn't like (her being the clean freak that she is) me not cleaning my room. So I was grounded for a week at the time I was mad I didn't get to go but now I wished I went. 

I rush to the living room and sit right next to my mom. She smiled towards me and put a hand on my shoulder. She wrapped her arms around me probably feeling pity for not letting me go to the trip. She let's go pulling something out of her pocket. She placed two tickets with titles that read '9 flags amusement park'. My eyes widen in surprise looking to my mom for answers.

"Lilith I know your mad at me but I decided that I'm going to take you to an amusement park! I know for past days you've been sulking because, you didn't get to go to the trip and I've seen hard you have been cleaning. So, I decided that this is good idea to reward you. " My mom smiles.

"Really, thanks mom, you really are the best mom! " I hug her tight and she hugs me right back. 

"Ok, I know you watch that crime show but I have to check the news real quick. Just to make sure which day to go to the amusement park. " 

I nod, she flips through the channels after going through the channels my mom lands on the news. Right on time too, it talks about how it's going to be a sunny week all day in Georgia. Which is rare because Georgia weather is really bipolar. Me and my mom high five. My mom grab the the remote when a knock came to the door. My mom took the remote with her (bad habit of hers) which left me with the news. I was about to ask my mom for the remote back when something made my snap right back to the TV. 

"In other news, a field trip up to the mountains to have a fun was supposed to happen to these students. A school bus found on the side of the mountain almost causing a forest fire near blue Ridge. " Blue Ridge, that was where my class was supposed to go. I could feel dread and anxiety weigh me down. My mom's talking became back round noise as the TV kept running its mouth. I couldn't shut it up, it hurts, why did my neck hurt? They kept talking about how the bus may of slip on the pavement causing it to fall but some of the facts didn't match up. It said that the bus may of slid but the road wasn't narrow. That it slid doesn't make sense either because it wasn't even raining that day. 

None of it made sense. 

"Lilith" My mom voice was filled with nothing but sadness which made me suspect she found out about the bus incident. My eyes burn the image of the bus upside down where all my friends layed in black bags. My mom gasp seeing the incident. She grab me tight as I cried in her shoulder. 

"Lilith, Emily left a letter that she was going to give to you. " My mom handed me a letter that Emily wrote to me possibly before she died. My name was written in cursive with a little heart added at the end. I open the letter basically ripping it off. In the process I ended up cutting my finger.

Dear Lilith, 

I sure do miss you a lot! I hope you are doing well! So as you may know I'm on the trip. I miss you so much good thing you weren't here.

I would of end up killing you too.

Look by now you should know I was the one who killed the students. Trust me I didn't want to do it. She made me do it. You've seen her too. She love's you. She thinks of you as her child. That dream, she is choosing you now. I'm so glad we met because, if we didn't my family would still have this curse. Now I give it to you. Now my family doesn't have to endure this cruse anymore. I'm sorry, but I just can't deal with this cruse anymore. So when I end my life and with the other students it will come to you. It will start with nightmares, then it will kill everything around unless you know how not to be afraid of it. 

Your best friend Emily. 

My heart race faster then ever as sweat drip down my face. Pure terror stuck me like an arrow. Did she really cause the bus to crash? Why? What did she mean by cruse? No, no, she is playing a trick on me or I'm really just in a dream? I look up from the letter to be faced with reality. My friend lifeless body staring directly at the TV. Her body was covered in blood and glass. There was one glass that stuck out of her neck. If she had to be precise that glass pierced through her vocal cords. The longer she stared at the TV the longer Emily's smile grew.

"She is coming for you" My mom whispered. I looked up at my mom who was still talking to someone on the phone. If it wasn't my mom who said that. Who said it? Why would she do this? I bet she is lying to me. The date! She wouldn't do this if the letter was found with her body. The killer must be taunting me.

My blood soak into the letter. I take a look at the envelope that came with the letter.

"April 4, 2004, a week before the trip was announced to the 5th graders." No, she planned everything, this was her hand writing. This was her letter. This was her curse.

Maybe, just maybe, if I went I could have died with them. That would of been better.

Anyway, I hope you enjoyed and I do have other dreams so, if you wanna hear more you can like this post.... Or not. Up to you.

[drarrymylove]

okay i’m back and ready to throw hands over something completely unrelated to the 

oh shit i just vividly remembered part of the nightmare i just woke up from...i forgot about two of my homework assignments, one of which is an english essay, leaving myself only a single evening to complete both...dude, who the f am i? hermione? i’m a college graduate wtf

reason i left in the first place. so yesterday, i was at work and i’ve been shouting my love for The Umbrella Academy from the rooftops for a couple weeks now. people at work are finally watching it and i overheard them talking about it so i pop up like the gremlin i am. 

I walked in on “if you’ve seen the first episode, this isn’t a spoiler...you know the crazy one?”

me thinking: i really don’t like “crazy” as a descriptor of people, but go off

no one said anything

she continued: “you know, the one who wore his sister’s skirt at one point?”

other girl: “oh, yeah. he’s gay”

first girl: “that’s 100% my boyfriend’s brother (blah blah i stopped listening)”

BITCH...this got me HEATED. 

one (1) klaus is not specified as gay. no where did they say he was gay. the actor sees him as pansexual (this differentiation is important to me). but this isn’t the thing that got me the worst because...

two (2) how is klaus any more “crazy” than the rest of them? the rest of the post contains spoilers i mean, vanya’s little ass is the reason they had grace as a mother in the first place because she fucking killed the other nannies because little bitch didn’t wanna eat that bland-ass looking oatmeal. five bonded with a mannequin to cope with being the literal last person on earth. allison used her powers on her own child on multiple occasions for years. and because klaus has ptsd from being locked in a mausoleum to be terrorized by ghosts for hours and has been self-medicating since then and doesn’t give a fuck about gender restrictions, he’s the crazy one? 

fuck you becky. 

AND HOW DARE YOU use the skirt wearing as the indicator of crazy?! “crazy” rubs me the wrong way anyway. like...if you’re mentally ill, crazy is a word used to demonize you, make you seem more ‘other’ and is actually very harmful to people with mental health problems. crazy is a word that is used to lump girls with bpd, young men with bipolar, and serial killer cannibals into one group. do you see my problem with this? 

and she said this in front of OUR GENDERFLUID COWORKER. like...bitch...you really said this in front of someone who presents as male...wears skirts when off the clock...and is probably high right now? like...you really went there?

[ansonmount]

How do you feel about people self diagnosing mental illnesses? I’m in a debate with my friends about it bc I don’t think people should claim to have a mental illness such as; PTSD, OCD, bipolar disorders, depression, anxiety, etc... without knowing what it actually means. I’ve been diagnosed with all of those by a doctor btw so nobody call me out for not knowing abt mental illnesses.

I think it’s a personal thing. In my opinion, I knew deep down there was more to me than just anxiety and depression. Normal depressed people dont try to kill themselves over a video game. (i got kicked out of my guild back in like 2014/2015??? and i self-destructed). I’ve self-diagnosed most of my issues because some of them are rare autoimmune diseases - like hidradenitis suppurativa. My depression and anxiety I self dx’d. I self dx’d my bpd. Everything did get confirmed as time went on and when I could deal with an issue. I had to have a cyst lanced at one point and the surgeon looked at me in shock because I knew what HS was. My GP refused to talk to me about bpd, so i had to take it into my own hands and see a psychologist for the first time. I love stigma. /s

I was “diagnosed” with bipolar after no antidepressants were helping me but my hypothyroidism was hiding a lot of my other symptoms because i would spend 20+ hours asleep every day. LOLOLOL. so that went out the window. as soon as I got my thyroid meds (a long shitshow honestly), it sorta let my cfs and bpd out because i was functioning more. So yeah I’ve been misdx’d which isnt surprising because not only is bpd common to have with bipolar but they can get confused with each other easily. 

In my experience, most of the people i know/myself did/with a self dx did it after a lot of research and self-reflection.

The sheer reality for myself, and this is my personal experience; doctors aren’t always right. Doctors can have their own biases and stigma. I went to my GP at the time when I was 19 about CFS and he told me I had sleep apnea, well I don’t. I’m much heavier than I was then and I still don’t have sleep apnea. I’ve had doctors shrug me off. I’ve had doctors be SO RUDE to the point I’ve walked out of appointments. It’s at the point my psych has said me that my anxiety about doctors isn’t just anxiety, it’s a downright FEAR because of how I’ve been treated by them in my life.

People are so quick to just believe their docs and take whatever pills they get handed without even knowing what’s wrong, that at this point in my life, I do question my doctors because I’ve been fucked around so much. So yeah I support “ethical” self-dx, because for me, i’ve only ever done it when I needed help with it. I’ve never self’dx’d to be like “ohoho look at me im craazzzzy i love being borderline, i love being the manic pixie trope because boys looooove me” or whatever. 

Are there people who self dx just to be in with a certain community? yes. Do I personally give a shit? No, because I don’t have the spoons to police other peoples illnesses. Are there times when you can tell someone is faking it? yeah, and I would call them out, but for the most part? Self dx means we can target things that can help - like mindfulness and dbt therapy for bpd. Sometimes people can’t get a formal dx. My boyfriend is autistic and adhd, his is a self dx because getting him a dx will cost us near $4000. Some people don’t have supportive families, hell I only got my depression and anxiety dx’s when I could go see the doctor on my own during the day without my mother hanging over my head. She knew I was depressed because she made the doctor test my hormones. Did they do anything about it? Nope. So i suffered till I could get meds on my own. 

Self dx is a personal thing and sometimes theres more going on with a person than their tumblr can tell you. 

Fakers will always give health communities a bad name, but it doesn’t mean the rest of us should suffer because of them and not get the self help or professional help we need. Self dx made me understand my body more and eventually led to getting help. Wanna know the ironic thing about HS? there’s no cure or pills for it. So it’s not like I can even get better from it. My skin is literally eating itself and barely any doctors have any idea of what it is because no one talks about it. Sometimes self dx is a coping mechanism to feel like everythings okay. I’d rather self dx than suffer from an unknown illness, because if anything is going to set my anxiety off, it will be that. 

sorry, i feel like i have a strong opinion on this lol 

[stagekiller]

Cont from x.

@crimescupid

   Why is it that he always goes on these rants when Harley is around? Whatever it is that’s happening, Jerome DESPISES it. Yet, at the same time, he can’t seem to put a halt to his own tongue when it starts - perhaps driven by some deep rooted need to share the things no one else wants to hear. Maybe he thinks Harley wants to hear them. Or maybe he’s instinctively laying out victim cards on the table to lure her in; it is no secret by now that she’s the only person he hangs around so often, seeking approval for his deviant acts - that she gladly encourages on the daily.

   Something about this sick mutual enabling feeds his ego, unbeknownst to his knowledge. And there’s also the prestige of being seen around her; cocky & flamboyant, she has the air of a princess - which is equal parts annoying and yet somehow rewarding when it comes to living up to shallow reputation standards.

   Either way, here they are, sitting by the river bank, throwing pebbles as if he doesn’t have a billion chores lurking behind his doorstep and she probably will be late to practice as well.

“ Eh, not sure about that, dollface. ” The response is immediate, but for once Jerome’s chuckles hold an uncharacteristic trace of bitterness. “ Mine’s kinda rottin’ away at the bottom of some ocean. ” Spoken quickly, the sentence seems to leave a certain TASTE on his tongue, for he keeps clicking it against his palate after uttering the words, as if he just tasted something sour. Though, when he speaks again, his tone holds the usual vibrant hue, however stiff & aloof his body might feel.

“ He was a sailor, y’see. ” Voice starts to fluctuate as it often does when Jerome performs. Hands wave about as he narrates, occasionally stealing a glimpse of Harley’s expression to feed off of her reactions - or be fueled by the lack thereof.  “ You ever been on a ship? I haven’t. But I always wanted to be; can you imagine the freedom? ” His hands extend to draw a big circle around himself, as the ocean would, should his dream have come to fruition.  “ The view of an endless sea around you, no limits, no fences, no - ” Face scrunches up and a childish mock follows; “ - ‘ muck the dung out Jerome’ and ‘ do the dishes Jerome ‘ and ‘ stop  trying to kill your brother Jerome ’. ”

  Pause. This brings him back to the point he was trying to make when he referred to his father to begin with; it’s bad to have feelings. And the present situation re-affirms the validity of that statement in his head, because now he can feel that pain in his chest that he oh- so HATES, but that hate is married to conflict; because a lot of the time he finds himself indecisive as to whether it’s best to feel such deep hatred ... or nothing at all.

“ I always dreamt of the day he’d show up -  ” He continues, voice growing softer. It is doubtful whether the tenderness it conveys is sourced from genuine emotion - a wounded child - or part of his act - a talented actor.  But this bipolarity is in Jerome’s nature; add to that the fact he probably can’t tell where one ends & the other begins himself.  “  I’d see his carrot top peak through the ticket booth and I’d run up to him - ” Eyes sparkle, his hands hovering right over his knees as they’re folded loosely over his chest. “ ...and he’d take me away. ” He swallows hard, blinks, withdraws his gaze to examine the pebbles they’ve been sitting on, pick one up and toss it in the river. ‘ Clack ! clack ! splash ! ’ Jerome’s voice is stern as he continues.

“ It kept me goin’, y’kno? When she’d slam a kettle down my back I’d think to myself ‘ Don’t worry, Jerome, dad is coming - one day’. ” Bitter words are blurted out with disregard for the subject itself; as if Jerome doesn’t grasp just how morbid it is. The only thing that bothers him is how effortlessly the words flow, without shame, and how he knows it’s Harley’s presence that causes this. Does he mean to shock her? Perhaps it’s the LUST for reactions that has him go on. “ Then one time I asked her ‘ mom, what’s the name of dad’s ship he works at ‘ and she turned to me an’ said - ” Head slowly turns around to meet blue hues, expression falling to a deadpan, voice grows COLD. ; “  ‘ He’s dead, Jerome.’ “

  Albeit not the most horrible thing to have come out of the ginger’s lips, the sentence held an imposing tone; it fell heavy between them, because to Jerome that sentence had been far from a mere  announcement.

“ Just like that.”  It was funny how much unprocessed GRIEF he held for that day; the day that dream fell apart. One by one, handles securing him to a place where he could still HOPE for the future had crumbled; first his father, then his brother, men in his life seemed to have a pattern - but it wasn’t as if his mom was much better.  “ Bloody bitch.” Words are forced through gritted teeth, upper lip scrunching into a scowl. The amount of disdain that radiates in his tone is admirable; his throat vibrates with a shaky breath, an obvious attempt to control his wild temper.

   There follows a silent pause, during which Jerome becomes unresponsive, staring off to the distance with a glare that’s far from frozen; unlike what you’d expect from him, when he’s always so unattached to everything, almost floating over reality itself with his cockiness & vanity. He hates moments like this; moments of WEAKNESS.

   Thus, when vision grows FOGGY,  thick lashes bat the feelings away, glassy eyes fixated on some distant spot as lips purse and a hard gulp rolls down his throat. The sentiment is discarded and when the ginger turns around to meet his comrade, sorrow & rage have dissipated from his expression; a brief sniffle is all indication of what may have just been a breakdown, before his nose scrunches up, emerald eyes darting to the side as a thoughtful hum escapes rosy lips.

“ Hmmm... I’m feelin’ a slushie. Wanna join? ”

[hypomania-dreams]

Welcome!

Hi hello! My name is Amber and I wanted to give a little introduction. I’m 22 years old. And I have bipolar 2. I was diagnosed about 2 months ago.  Which was both a fantastic thing and a horrifying thing for me.  It was horrifying for a couple different reasons.  For one, the other people who are bipolar in my life handle it very poorly in my opinion. They have a tendency to just impulsively act on their emotions. They come in like a figurative and also sometimes a physical wrecking ball. Unfazed by the hurt they bring. And I’m constantly wanting to do better, to handle it better, and to be considerate of other people’s emotions. So I guess it was horrifying because I didn’t want to be toxic like the other bipolar people in my life. 

I know maybe that sounds insensitive, but I’m a firm believer that your mental illness gives a reason for your actions, but it doesn’t excuse them. For example let’s say you’re manic and you make a bad decision like sleeping with someone.... in the moment you’re really into. But then after a few days, when your mania subsides, your feelings fade and you think ...... fuck I messed up. You can tell that person you were manic. And it is a reason for why your feelings have so drastically changed in a span of a week. But it doesn’t take back the fact that you have hurt someone, and you have to make amends and take steps to ensure you don’t hurt someone like that again. It’s not your fault shit is so complicated in your head. I’m not saying you should feel bad, because I’m sure you already do. I just want you to be careful. When we hurt someone else, we are also hurting ourselves because we can’t understand why we’re like this either. I think that’s a hard thing for other people to understand. That’s just an example of something I’ve had to deal with recently, so trust me. We’ve all been there. But I digress. That’s my little spiel for the day. 

So I was diagnosed after a trip to the psyche ward after almost nearly going through with killing myself. Was quite the experience lemmie tell you.  This has been one heck of a year. And I won’t get into it now, but there’s been a lot of growth for me this past year. Well actually, more than that.... there’s been a lot of growth these past two months. 

Getting diagnosed was the first step into getting better for me. For almost 8 years, I tried so many times to figure out what was wrong with me. I just wondered why I had a bout with depression every single year while also having what I thought was terrible anxiety that would keep me up for days at a time. There were so many things that could have been wrong with me and I was scared to get help. I’d always been able to push past my depression by myself and I thought that was good enough. Now mind you, I didn’t have a handle on anything. I was stewing and going mad not knowing how to deal with everything. Sure, I was surviving that bout with depression. But I didn’t have a clue how to manage the other things. So when I spent that time in the ward and got diagnosed, I was actually so relieved. There’s a reason why I’m like this. And there are things I can do to make it all better and manageable. I was elated. And I spent days trying to figure out things I could do to make my depression easier, the things I could do to combat my mania, and that there’s so many things about me that are so good.  Having a mental illness doesn’t make you broken. It makes you unique.  Sure you operate a little different from other people. And sometimes people won’t always understand. But you’re just trying to live your life like anyone else. And I’m so proud of you for doing that. 

Now I’m no expert on this by any means. I plan on writing about what everything is like for me. But I know being bipolar is different from person to person. I’m not saying I’m healed or anything. I mean, this tumblr was started one night when I was manic as heck so.....obviously I’m still just trying to figure it all out myself. But if you wanna stick around and hear what I have to say sometimes, that’d be pretty cool. 

One of the things I love to do is keep track of my mood cycles. I’ve become quite the expert in noticing shifts in myself. I’ve noticed I have a tendency to be more manic than depressed so I’ll probably be writing more about being in a state of hypomania rather than being depressed. Which is why I have adequately named this blog Hypomania Dreams. I really hope you stick around! Thank you so much for reading my first post and I hope you stay!

[provincianx-blog]

what i learned from unlearning everything that i know

lessons from middle school, aurora, and beyond. 

at the age of fifteen, my mom forced my brother and me to leave our home in hayward, ca upon discovering that my dad had been using meth again and wasting all of his money on catfishes on the internet. 

my mom and dad had been separated for longer than my brother and I were aware of, but my mom finally had the courage to really leave him in july of 2011. she loved him her entire life, but she was done taking care of someone that wasn’t taking care of her. she was done taking care of someone who didn’t love her enough to take care of himself. she was done. 

while this seems incredibly simple, leaving hayward prompted what would turn into a 7 year identity crisis. 

as an outcast at every school i transferred to, i found a community on this website with my best friends from middle school and random strangers who loved harry potter and other fandoms as ridiculously as we did. true commitment to friendship would transcend from anonymous messages on tumblr to mutual follows on twitter. and here we are: in the age of twitter.

upon switching up different meds, after over a decade of looking for mental and emotional stability, i found out that i have bipolar-1, which still doesn’t make that much sense to me, but i’m beginning to understand it more than i did before.

i’m grateful to have been obsessed with star wars when i first saw revenge of the sith on opening night because of my tita and her husband’s work perks. i loved padme and she was my first crush but also my first example of a strong girl in mainstream film in addition to mulan (bruh i used my mulan costume for like 3 years and never gave a single HECK). i would then beg my dad to take me to blockbuster to watch the original trilogy, where i met carrie fisher/princess leia, who would radically transform how i saw the world and myself.

i grew up with my tita and tito. they took care of me when they were in college, and they’re still taking care of me now. i want to be able to take care of their kids and love them as much as they loved me growing up. i love them with all that i am and all that i can give. 

i studied politics because i wanted to make sure that my younger cousins and my baby brother would have a better world to grow up in than i did. it seems that my undiagnosed mental illness of nearly 14 years has been exacerbated by the political climate we live in today in 2018. 

i learned so much about life by learning about my own history, and i hope that everyone has this opportunity in their lifetime. it feels great, and the only one who seems to really get it is ariana grande. 

so here are 14 things i learned from being mentally ill and emo while being passionate about wanting to make the world a better and more habitable place. 

1. don’t trust the feds: a lot of 2nd amendment boys actually don’t trust the government as much as people think, and the 2A comes from settlers’ distrust in colonial Britain. the problems we see today are because the GOP has lured these same people and their kids (and their kids) into their corner by advocating for organizations like the NRA; gun control has reached the Supreme Court, but the 2nd amendment took precedent (i believe). gun control must come from the state and local governments, but political participation in these arenas are very low, especially for younger voters. i, as someone who has been involuntarily hospitalized despite voluntarily seeking medical help, am not allowed to buy a gun in the state of california for 5 years. and honestly, i really don’t care because i don’t want to need a gun anyway, but the poor and the middle class in the south feels that they need guns. 

2. stay woke: deray said this nearly everyday after michael brown was shot by darren wilson in ferguson, missouri. michael brown was my wake up call to reassess my complacency in the status quo and my participation in reinforcing anti-blackness. in the bay area, the n word was used so casually in places like union city/hayward that we became so desensitized to it. it’s still used casually, but non-black people like myself have no agency in saying it because we’re not black. it’s as simple as that. i began noticing how my family reacted to what would turn into the Black Lives Matter movement, and for the first time, i felt that i could no longer trust my relatives if they were complicit in the murders of black youth simply because they were at the wrong place at the wrong time. i couldn’t even talk to them without crying because of how upset i got from the anti-blackness i would hear. i began to isolate myself and found community on twitter. 

3. our youth is a reflection of how good things were and how good things can become if we learn to build community: in addition to the community i found on tumblr through avatar, harry potter, and the beatles, i found community with all the losers who had xbox’s instead of ps3′s. we would hang out and play search and destroy (which i still cannot succeed in after all this time smh agjhgarhdfhre) or 1v1 each other on rust. my nerd friends would let my brother and I play with them regardless of how much we sucked, and they hyped me up even when my KDR was trash. these friendships would then transcend from mw2, halo 3, and into runescape. my brother is now really good at overwatch, and the friends i made in middle school are also really good at overwatch. the difference now is that they’re making money off of it, and i’m just like, “let’s get this bread, nerds!” thank you for being there for me even though i sucked at everything i tried doing. i was reminded of this when i watched “mid90s” by Jonah Hill. our youth was such a pure period of time, but it was also the time we lost ourselves through imposing harmful social norms onto each other, such as the idea that a girl cannot be “just friends” with a boy. but - here’s the kicker - i’m queer, and i don’t really like cis-het men hahahahahahahahaha but whatever. 

4. becoming american made me forget who i am: our immigrant parents teach us that the only way is to assimilate into white America, which is essentially what happened to black and brown people following the civil rights movement. the notion of egalitarianism/equality has been nothing but harmful for all of us nonetheless, fueling debates on affirmative action and pitting black people against asian people. one of my best friends from elementary school is in prison for trying to make a living with the resources and skills made available to him. he was apprehended in thousand oaks. he is a black man, and we grew up in the same environment, but his life has been so different since we were in elementary school. the concept of equality/egalitarianism stemming from civil war gains (13th-15th amendments) has manifested into the racial inequality we see today; in other words, the idea that white americans and POC are equal has been harmful because this has never been true and continues to be untrue. my filipino friends and i would get bullied by white latinos for not speaking english in america, which is why i learned to hate myself and my culture. i love myself and my culture, and i am fighting so that i can return home to the philippines someday. 

5. our bodies are different, and that’s okay: can y’all believe that i got bullied for not having boobs in the 3rd grade? this is what happens when young girls are sexualized so early. boys participate in this, and they turn out to be shitty boyfriends later on. girls will be girls. girls just wanna be treated like human beings instead of sexual objects. i don’t think this needs to be explained further. 

6. america is a settler-colonial state turned global power, and that is problematic: this country began with the murders and deaths of indigenous people because of imperalistic pursuits. it was built on the backs of slave labor from africa. it was reinforced by colonialism through the conquering of countries such as the philippines. we’re socialized to believe that there’s no place like america and that america is such a good place to be in, but that is only true for white Americans and POC who have integrated into white American suburbs. 

7. know history, know self: - jose rizal 

8. if my life wasn’t funny, it would just be true, and that is unacceptable - carrie f. fisher

9. at times, being bipolar can be an all-consuming challenge, requiring a lot of stamina and even more courage, so if you’re living with this illness and functioning, it’s something to be proud of, not ashamed of - carrie f. fisher

10. rebellions are built on hope - princess/general leia organa + jyn erso

11. we have nothing to lose but our chains - assata shakur

12. keep ya head up - tupac shakur

13. everything i’m not made me everything i am - kanye west

14. i remember you was conflicted

misusing your influence

sometimes i did the same

abusing my power full of resentment

resentment that turned into a deep depression

found myself screaming in the hotel room

i didn’t wanna self destruct

the evils of lucy was all around me

so i went running for answers

until i came home

but that didn’t stop survivor’s guilt

going back and forth trying to convince myself the stripes i earned

or maybe how a-1 my foundation was

but while my loved ones was fighting the continuous war back in the city

i was entering a new one

a war that was based on apartheid and discrimination

made me wanna go back to the city and tell the homies what i learned

the word was respect

just because you wore a different gang color than mine’s

doesn’t mean i can’t respect you as a black man

forgetting all the pain and hurt we caused each other in these streets

if i respect you, we unify and stop the enemy from killing us

but i don’t know, i’m no mortal man

- kendrick lamar

[sweet-xoxo-thatcares]

I ripped up my pop-up laundry basket because I was so pissed that somebody or even the delivery stole my 2 boxes of pizza and the cheese bread off of our front porch and I paid dominos $30 for it.

I had to call them to see if he dropped it off at the wrong house or just didn't pay attention. Cause I came downstairs to check at 4:55 and nothing was there, then I went back outside at 5:00, still nothing....opposite to what my dominos tracker said.

And I bought this fucking pizza to make my day because I was so tired, depressed, and sick of being reminded of Jay while watching porn, changing videos that it made me cry because of how she used to sexually reject in the middle of us having sex and then would tell Ayunna to do my work just because I made one mistake or just really wanted to just sit there and watch. I don't understand what made her so non-interactive with me sexually even though she was the one who always initiated. And she acted like she hated the idea of me even touching in any kind of way without her permission, but it was okay if she touched me innappropiately or harassed me at their place?

She's a sicko, a sicko psycho.

And mom, not even giving a fuck that someone stole the food I was finna share pissed me off even further. She goes, "well, at least it will help you save money. You don't need to be buying no food anyway."

Bitch stfu.

And then Dominos actually thinking I'm the one lying about this. We've ordered food and bought pizza from them for years and this is the 1st time that we've ever got our delivery food stolen. Like wtffffff.

And mom knows good and damn well if I would have said that to her if one of her Amazon Packages got stolen, she would have cussed me out or told me to shut up.

She so fucking rude and I really don't wanna move out to no bummy ass looking apartment when I move out, just because the prices are so fucking in the area I'm trying to move into.

I don't wanna move to a different city with the same issue? Bitch if somebody steal anything from me, packages, mail, food, I pop the fuck off and mom was so nonchalant and passive about it, even when I asked her to check the ring camera to see if anyone took it.

It don't add up to me how there was barely anyone outside and the one day I order pizza because I feel unhappy, I get this fucking news and that bitches mouth.

Dominos gave me partial money back and kept the $4 tip. I'm still pissed because I don't believe or understand how can my food get stolen less than 5 min from what it said on the app, unless he arrived earlier than what it said 🤔

And nobody told me what time he came. He didn't even ask me was I alright. Talking about "well believe you this time. But we're not coming back."

Like WTFFF I GOT MY PIZZA TOOK AND NOW YOU WANNA BE A SMARTASS ABOUT ME STILL EVEN WANTING TO ORDER MORE

FUCK YOU, FUCK MOMS SARCASTIC, EGOMANIAC MOUTH, FUCK THIS HOUSE, FUCK THIS NEIGHBORHOOD, AND FUCK THIS PTSD THAT STOPS ME FROM ENJOYING PORN AND EVERYTHING ELSE IN BETWEEN.

IM TIRED OF THIS FUCKING JOB MARKET THATS SO DAMN CRITICAL IN JOB EXPERIENCE AND PROGRAMS.

BITCH IF I GOT 6YRS EXPERIENCE AND I GOT MY BACHELOR’S WTFFFFF IS GOING ON IN HR

THEY ACT LIKE 6YRS AINT WORTH SHIT IF YOU DONT HAVE EXACTLY TO THE FUCKING T OF WHAT THEY'RE LOOKING FOR.

AND MOM AND DAD THINKS ITS SO FUCKING EASY FOR ME TO JUST APPLY AND WAIT FOR ANOTHER FUCKING JOB, ONLY FOR THEIR PRIVILEGED, SUPPRESSING, CORPORATE ASSES TO TELL ME NO.

IVE BEEN WAITTTTTING SINCE JANNUUUUUUAAAARRRRRYYYYYYYT MMMMMMFFFFFFFFFFF

SO HOW THE FUCK YOU SAY I CAN JUST APPLY HERE AND THERE AND EVERYWHERE IN FUCKING WACKED OUT MICHIGAN WITHOUT SOMEBODY SAYING "WE FOUND BETTER, QUALIFIED CANDIDATES"

Like as if my own life history on this fucking resume doesn't mean shit to them. Makes me think I went to school and did dual enrollment to get out quicker, for nothing 🙃

Wtf is wrong with this world. It's exactly why I say fuck Michigan economy. Now I gotta work factory just to even save up for a car, rent is high af, student loans finna come find my ass, and I don't have a girlfriend because I'm trying to wait till I have an affordable apartment and a car that won't break down on me on the highway in the middle of us driving to Vancouver.

Driving school is only $500. But in order for me to save up for a car, I gotta stay in a $600 or less place cause otherwise imma have to wait a whole entire year to save up for a car, the insurance, gas, and the maintenance costs by the end of next year...so no...fuck that.

With this fucking salary, I'm basically feel like shit because my own fucking friend who's middle class and actually stayed longer to get her masters after I graduated....is already banking a better job, work from home, and I hate complaining to Her about my worries.

And she's the one that inspired me to even go back for the masters. Because they treat you like secondhand condom shit just for having a Bachelor’s. Like it ain't good enough no more. Then when you try to apply to places for the experience that you needed to work another job that denied you, you still get denied by them too because they said your major doesn't match and why you wanna work here if you studied this?

CAUSE YALLL AINT GOT NO JOBS FOR WTF I STUDIED STOP READING FUCKING EVERYTHING SUSAN. I AINT GOT TIME TO EVEN ARGUE WITH YOU ABOUT THAT

it's like they really don't care in the 1st place, they just wanna know if you qualify and half the time I be lying about why I wAnNA wOrK hErE because yall cats read into people shit and judge them for just trying to make a living just to even have a place to stay and eat healthy food so a bitch can find better partners than the fuckbois and users on tinder.

I'm soooooo damn tired of being judged, mocked, criticized, and being rejected. And then the past mocking me about old rejections that I'm still waiiiiittttttiiingggggg for me to heal from. A year or nor, my heart still feels like it's January, thinking about everything and why did I block Jay when they reached out?

I was afraid that she would have just lied to me again, pushed me away even harder because I had already left, and then blocked me after. When I'm the one who chose to leave, I'm the one who is hurt, why did they always make it seem like my pain came last to their pain. Like it was always about serving them, doing what they said, what they wanted just because they were the couple, and took over every God Damn thing, and kept pushing me away, neglecting my emotions, manipulating and etc.

I don't even wanna talk about the same shit that happened anymore. But my brain does, my heart does. Because I remember everything. My heart can't make the pain go away, but I'm tired of hurting. I'm tired of crying about it and I hate that people in this house can trigger my actions to tear up shit, scream at the top of my lungs like a damn scarecrow on DragonBall Z, I'm tired of mom triggering me to think she hates my actions and the way that I think say or do something she doesn't agree about or care about, so she comments on everything little thing she despises.

When I'm already struggling to be happy. She does not give a fuck. And I bet if I told her I was feeling suicidal holding that wire from the laundry basket in my hand, feeling manic so I strangled my palms, my knuckles, and squeezed the crap out of that wire hoping it would make me forget about ripping up that piece of shit hamper, and make the irritation, that need to strangle somebody, something to make this itch go away to attack my mother with my words and tell her TO HURT HER OWN GOD DAMN FEELINGS INSTEAD OF KEEP HURTING MINE, YOU ARROGANT, COCKY ASS SON OF A BITCH AND I HATE YOU FOR WHAT YOU DO TO ME. PIERCING IN MY FUCKING BACK, THE DRY ASS, PETTY ASS RESPONSES TO WHEN IM GOING THROUGH SHIT.

BUT LET ME SAY ONE LITTLE THING ABOUT YOU OR EVEN TALK ABOUT GRANDMA YO ASS ACT LIKE I JUST SINNED AND CURSED YO NAME OUT.

SO YOU GET A HISSY FIT AND TELL ME STOP TALKING OR TO SHUT UP.

QUIT TELLING ME TO SHUT UP HOE

I HAVE NO PLACE TO GO BUT HERE AND IM NOT FINNA SUFFER THROUGH THIS BY MYSELF. IM BUYING ME SOME FUCKING PIZZA AND YOU WILL NOT DRIVE MY ASS CRAZY AGAIN.

I'm sick of the ptsd episodes and I'm sick of waiting on other people to give me what I need, so if she got something to say about it, imma let her fucking have it. Cause I'm sick and tired of holding my mouth for her, and her ordering me to shut up, while she gets to sat however she fucking feels about each and little she feels the need to pick at.

Let her country, dumbass catch this heat. Imma bounce it right back to her and she ain't gonna like it. And I don't care if she wants me to just tolerate it anymore, she gon end up dead in her heart too if ever tried to kill me like she did that night in March. She showed no mercy, no remorse, and no she had not stood by her promise to make our relationship work as mother and daughter. She just said that so she didn't have to feel like a dick for her own daughter leaving her out the picture by going to her other mother, the one who understood her sensitivities and actually listened to my needs.

And that was Grandma Clara Jamison.

I hate to say it but, God why? Why did both of my grandma's have to fade. My other grandma don't even remember who I am. And If I talk to my own mom, about her mom, and say that she won't care to comfort me at all. She'll just angry that I made her feel bad because of my emotional response.

So I don't tell her anything. Cause my mom reminds me of how the terrible twins responded to me about being too sensitive, too emotional, to where they even blocked me and abandoned me. Made me suffer alone.

Just like my own mother is doing now, and it's driving my ass crazy. That she's them. Not my ex, but a narcissistic asshole, the bipolar freak who flips out and I can't come to her when I'm in pain, sadness, depression, or grief, anger even.

Because she ridicules me for having a strong feeling about something that doesn't matter. So she talks shit, goes away, or pushes me away when I try telling her in my most vulnerable state.

Which is when I'm crying or about to cry. I can't even come to my own mother about giving up and moving away to the mountains or a cabin or just committing suicide with pain pills. But she doesn't think about that. She doesn't think that her constant neglecting me, is showing me, I can't trust her.

And that's exactly how I did Jay, and walked away.

I'm there for you, but you're not there for me?

I'm out.

And I'm tired of just giving and getting hurt in return because you don't care about the situation that I'm in, nor do you care to listen.

So don't get all I'm ready to come whoop yo.ass or call the police on me again, just because I didn't answer my phone. You hurt me momma, repeatedly and you show out every so.often and I'm tired of getting disappointed and crying by myself because you don't come check on me when I isolate myself from you in the house. My back hurts everytime she does that, cause she triggers a memory that I can't forget.

I could have hit my head, got a concussion, or even broke my neck if I didn't catch my fall and pushed you back, because you decides that night Kylee doesn't get to talk. You came at me yelling and pushing and thought that I would just take that fall down those metal basement steps for you and that everything would go back to normal the next day?

Like that fight you had with Dad just last week where you punched him in his nose, screaming and cussing at him over you being in pain and him not showing you enough care. So you hit him anyway, then he puts you in chokehold and me and my sisters are supposed to just forget that anything happened???

We have to process all the crazy, toxic shit yall do to us or in front of us BY OURRRSEELLLVESSSS

My lil sister is 18 and was trying to stop a 6'1 grown man from beating yo.ass up. And on top of that, the same grown man was pushing me back too on my own chest.

But we're supposed to just go back to normal, assemble the stage, make yall two feel happy after yall so called talked it our when literally 3 days ago, yall slept in different places, dad at his dead moms house in grand Rapids, you at a hotel.room for a different night, and him on the couch after he came back.

Whyyy the fuck are yall so damn passive about this shit, but if I bring it up or even ask about Grandma, my ass get handed to.

He's not fine. Yall are not okay. It shouldn't be imma put my hands on you just because you pissed me off and you're supposed to love me tomorrow, no matter how much I scar you or hurt your face.

Like brainwashing, forced brainwashing to accept that shit is okay. as long as i never say anything about it, I'm not in trouble or receive neglect.

Yall are the most manipulative people I ever met. And Dominos I want my $4 back too mf. Tip should come back too.

[bipolarandannoyed]

On why I’m contemplating shutting down my AO3 account

So I wanna first clarify that this is not a decision I’m taking lightly. I’ve actually been contemplating this for around two years. I have not decided yet, but I wanted to let everyone know it’s a distinct possibility so they don’t go to check something, or re-read something and it’s just gone.

Even though this post is going to be a TL:DR in and of itself, I’m still going to give you a quick TL:DR of that in case you don’t want to read this monstrosity.

It’s a mix between my tumultuous relationship with fandom, some issues I’ve had with specific fandoms, problems with fanfiction in general, an extreme loss of inspiration and drive, mental illness, and my original writing.

All right. Some details. I can extrapolate on any of these, so if you want more information, please ask.

1) When I first joined fandom, it was a different beast. It was the mid 2000′s and I was a young teenager with only a few friends who, thinking back, probably didn’t like me that much. Fandom was the first place I could connect with people who liked the same things I did, back when the internet wasn’t the home staple it is now. A lot of you may still feel the same way.

But as the internet is such a mainstay in most homes, and most people have their own nearly unlimited access to it, fandom has changed. It’s taken on the popularity issues that prevail in every large culture. With the introduction to “fandom awards”, I’m not sure how this can be argued. And I despise popularity hierarchies. I hated them in school, and I hate them online.

Before anyone gets on my case about just being petty because I want to be popular in fandom, I don’t. I actually want to avoid being one of those “top tier” fandom people. I like to be anonymous. I even have anxiety about leaving my curtains open. I was raised to be paranoid, and for very good reasons I won’t be going into.

I have moral issues with popularity. Specifically in the way we treat those who aren’t popular. They’re all but ignored. And when they’re not, people act like they’re throwing them a bone, like any attention to the work they produce is a gift they’re receiving and they should be so excited and happy to get a single like. Meanwhile they watch the big names being showered with praise and attention. Think about when you’re in school and you experience this yourself, and how it makes you feel. But that’s the thing, no one does.

Fandom feels entitled to the work of people. I’ve received my fair share of “write it for those of us who are reading”, and that’s just unacceptable. You are not owed a single thing. People are producing things for you for free. And for most of us it goes completely unrewarded. I’ve said in the past to think about comments and reblogs as payment. Everyone talks a big game about supporting artists, but that ends pretty quickly when there’s a chance for real follow through.

2) As for my personal issue with fandom, it’s about people stealing the stuff I produced. Not my stories, thankfully. I’d be filing a complaint about that real quick. But with posts. I won’t name any names, or even fandoms, but it’s happened a few times with a few different people. Sometimes it would be a few days after I posted, and sometimes it would be as little as an hour. Since I’m not a big name, no one notices. And since I prefer to stay under the radar, calling the people out would only call unwanted attention to me. So, as a result, I’ve mostly left fandom.

3) So my problems with fanfiction are a bit more of a me thing. If you followed my old tumblr and read my personal posts, you’d know that I don’t really read fanfiction anymore. I haven’t for a couple years, only fics that people have personally suggested to me.

A few years ago I got curious about why my fics were unpopular. I’ve only written two that more than a few people have cared about, and in an unpopular fandom, or with an unpopular ship, that’s pretty par for the course. But I’ve considered myself a pretty decent writer for a while, and that was a huge blow to my ego and had me questioning my ability to make it as an author, which has been my goal for fifteen years, and something I’d been considering for a few years before that.

I did some research on what kind of fics and authors are popular, and I found it’s the opposite of what people like with books. Simplicity is the most important thing. Fics with common plot lines, predictable plot points, and recognisable tropes tend to be the most popular. Conflict tends to turn people away. Basically people want comforting stories that don’t challenge them in their fics. That’s something I just can’t do. I’ve actually tried. I love writing stories with high conflict and taking tropes that people are used to and turning them around. I’ve used fics to develop my writing to prepare for my books. I will never be a popular fic writer, and I’m okay with that.

4) I’ve lost most motivation for my fics. A big part of that is because of my living situation. I’m working on building a tiny home so I can make sure I’m not homeless, and for health reasons. Because of that I’m living with my family while I build it.

But an even bigger part is because there’s no energy in it. People’s excitement, their responses, gave me energy and inspiration. I wrote Pretend to be Dating in two weeks because of the interaction with people who were reading it. It’s about 28,000 words, which is the length of a novella, and I didn’t fill it with superfluous prose. People were excited, and they expressed that excitement. That made me want to produce more. And even before that when I was writing for TotA, a pretty much dead fandom, I had a friend who would get excited every time I would write anything, no matter how small. But she has a family now.

That interaction, that energy, inspires me. And I know it inspires a lot of others. And no, not every comment inspires me. It’s pretty easy to tell the difference between someone commenting because they like something, and because they just want me to continue. Being a temporary distraction from life until people move on to the next distraction actually has the opposite effect and kills my inspiration and drive. It’s important to me that people like my stories and my writing.

I’m aware that a large part of this is my fault. Because people liking my stuff is vital to my future career, as there is no career if people don’t, responding to comments on my AO3 makes me feel like I’m artificially boosting my comment count and making it seem better than it is. It’s a very weird bit of anxiety, but it’s very debilitating. That’s why I’ve encouraged people to come talk to me here.

5) So I’m bipolar. I’m taking meds for it, but I’m not currently in therapy.

A lot of people don’t understand what bipolar is. It’s not being moody. It’s a cycling disorder that can seriously mess up your life, fuck with your mind, and it’s one that’s still socially acceptable to dismiss and mock. Just look at every time someone calls Halsey “teen angst”.

Bipolar has a lot of effects on my cognitive abilities, and actually made it nearly impossible for me to read for three years before I finally started taking meds. I sometimes spend over and hour at a time pacing because I just can’t seem to stop, I’ve almost broken my hand because of sudden bursts of anger, and there are high risk behaviors we suffer from that have caused me to almost die on several occasions, behaviors I don’t consider dangerous when I’m doing them.

There’s a reason so many bipolar people relate to Jekyll and Hyde.

I’ve been depressive since last May. It’s been a very long depressive phase for me. It’s caused me to almost lose my job. And because of that, it’s been extremely difficult to write. I used to write until my hand literally couldn’t hold a pen, for twelve hours at a time. Now I’m lucky if I can get more than an hour a night. So when I can write, I want to write something that’s important. And if my fics aren’t important, if people don’t care, I don’t want to write them, no matter how excited I am about certain stories or chapters. And when I post a chapter that I’ve been so excited about, and no one else is excited, that has a really bad effect on me.

6) I’ve mentioned that I’m working on becoming a published author, hopefully a career author. This is vital to my happiness and fulfillment as a person. This is the entire reason I started writing fics back in 2005. I’ve written entire books that I’ve scrapped, have five projects in the works, and am working on creating a serial to gain attention.

At this point, writing fics is doing nothing to help me with that. It’s a distraction. And until recently, it’s a distraction that I’ve found worth it, because it’s something I enjoyed, and something that gave me creative satisfaction. But that’s not the case anymore. I don’t see the point in producing things for people who don’t appreciate them, when I could be working on things that could hopefully supply me with the means to live.

Fanfiction will always have a place in my heart. It’s been such a big part of my life. But like with most things that I loved as a teenager, it just doesn’t give me the enjoyment and satisfaction it once did.

[floressyfobias]

IDK just crying

I haven't written in here in so long, i mean, i barely did but anyway. Read tags.

I don't know why i'm writing here and why in a language that isn't mine, i guess it's just the safety that no one here cares about me but i still can be seen. I'm thinking about opening a sideblog just to vent, idk.

SO much has happened in the past year, and i don't mean Covid, i'm kinda glad i don't have to go out. I spent years of my life without going outside, literally, so this is an awful blessing. I'm selfish, i know, people are dying and i can only think "Wow, finally no one will judge me". In my defense, i have always been a disgusting, selfish human, so its fine.

How do i start? What's the start? I think about the start of my life as 6 year old me trying to commit suicide. I guess the start this time is BPD, i mean, is good to have a diagnosis i guess and it explains a lot. Isn't that what i started therapy for? So, let's see. PTSD, Depression, anxiety, phobias, disordered eating, insomnia, BPD, what else? I refused to answer a poll or whatever for bipolar disorder, i'm not gonna have anything else. Not for now.

My mood swings are more and they are more violent too, i do my best to lie about it. I try so hard. I can't sleep. I take so many pills yet i can't sleep, it's fine, my nightmares are awful but being awake isn't any better.

I lost so many things lately. Not only is the lack of sleep and food making me lose my mind, but i lost all sense of safety. Now, i'm gonna proceed to be more selfish, i'm sorry in advance, or not. I don't really feel sorry but i should.

When i was 9 years old, i would watch Glee in secret, because i was young and my mom thought i wasn't ready. When Santana came out of the closet, i was in an awful school trip (thanks mom and dad for not listening to what i wanted) and that episode was aired, i remember how much i cried and i knew why i was crying, because someone was expressing what i felt, someone i admired, althought, with so much violence going on at that time, i did not deal with being a lesbian for years, i had too much already.

My biggest (and most useless) talent is that i know EVERY Glee dialogue, in English and Spanish. Not only did i use Glee (and Naya, not Santana) as an excuse to stay alive, but as a safe space. Then i went from Glee to Brittana scenes mostly, no need to explain why.

When Naya dissapeared i was watching Glee. Prom Queen. One of my safest episodes. I NEVER pause a Glee episode, never. That night i did and i went to make tea, why? I don't know but i checked my phone and i had lots of messages asking if i knew something. Something about what???? Then i saw it, then i didn't sleep for days, then, thank God i had my therapist.

When i was a child, i learned about death in a weird way, no need to go into that but i hope my children (if i ever have any) won't learn about it in that way. Since then, i was obsessed. Okay, so i can kill myself but also, people can kill each other or get sick or have accidents or or or so many things can happen.

When my aunt died when i was 14, everyone asked how i was. It was disgusting, i felt disgusting. Now, something similar happened. Everyone asked how i was, even people i hadn't talked to in years. How are you? Stupid question. I wanted to be mean, i wanted to tell them things i can't write here. Only one person didn't ask, she simply sent me an "I love you". I don't believe her, the way she treated me, you don't hurt that way the people you love, she was so violent, so abussive, so mean and even years later, i love her and she knew what to say. She knew that asking how i was was stupid and mean. She knew me.

I fell in love this year. This girl, how do i describe her? If rising in love had a face, it would be hers. And she liked me too, she says she does but, as always, someone else came and she likes me but she likes this other girl too.

You know when Santana sang Songbird to Brittany on Glee? The feelings, that's how i felt and suddenly, everything got destroyed. And we still talk, i only told one friend about her, i'm used to being the second choice, i have always been just the side girl people have fun with and that was fine by me, really, but this time, god i feel so humilliated. Why did i even thought i had a chance? I mean, yeah, she confessed to me but still, i should know better. And we still talk althought not as often anymore, i just feel so used. She knows i can't leave, i'm not strong enough and she is a great friend but she broke me. You know who would get me? Santana. But i can't watch Glee since July 2020. I tried. It ended in panic attacks. A child lost his mother and i'm here being a selfish bitch acting like i have a right to be sad for losing the only thing that made me feel safe.

Then, there's my friends. Or ex friends. One of them left, i mean, she has time to find a new boyfriend but not to be with me, fine, whatever. And i'm staying because i'm stupid. Then, the other one, S, okay her dad died in December, exams started, she is stressed. She told me she was not gonna talk to anyone for some time, i was fine, FINALLY someone tells me, FINALLY. But then, stupid me, i asked how everything was going with school. Literally just that and she tells me that if she hasn't talked to me in a month i shouldn't invade her, that i frustrated her. That scared the shit out of me. I just asked how everything was going with school, we went from having Spotify dates every night to that. I'm so scared of talking to her now.

And then M. Fucking bitch M. Last year with me starting all the conversations and her never replying but posting about how awesome her other friends where. I tried, then i thought i would not talk to her for a week cause she will miss me, right? She will miss me asking about her day, talking with me about This Is Us, listening to music together, she would miss me. But no. She didn't miss me for a month, then i brought it up and she said she missed me but she didn't. Then she forgot about my birthday, the most important day for me and she went on to ignore me until March when i asked if we were still friends, she said yes, she apologized over my birthday only after i mentioned it, she didn't even realise she forgot and then, more ignoring me. Me crying every time i saw her online with her other friends, people luckier, more loved than me. Then me telling her i could just not be her friend anymore, what we had wasn't a friendship. The crying got worse, it all ended with a long message from me, telling her about my year. The falling in love, embroidering again, more birth chart readings, everything she missed that year. What did i miss? I don't know. I don't know how her year was. Is school going okay? Did she found a new song she liked? Is she eating and resting? How's everything with her boyfriend? Did she catch up on This Is Us? I know i won't do it, it was our show. I can't. What sense does it make? And then, after that long message, the blocking. The disgusting obsession. I still cry every day, why can't i be her friend? The disgusting obsession of missing her, i stalk her twitter almost every day. I miss her. I broke things up only cause i was hurting yet i keep hurting and i'm more obsessed. I feel disgusting.

Then, my dad. The only man i keep talking to, the one that hurts me, that leaves me waiting alone in places or doesn't show up. He had Covid, i was so scared. I had to be responsible for everything, obviously.

Everyone was so mad at me when i was worried yet when he, the man that told me to kill myself if i so wanted to do it, thought i finally did it, was worried, everyone felt bad for him. And me, growing up scared of losing him, didn't have a right to be worried? How does that work???

I miss watching Glee. I miss being mad at someone and putting on Glee, i miss being sad and watching Glee. I miss Santana. I miss Naya. I miss having something safe. I miss my friends. I miss the love story i didn't get to have. I miss having a little bit of hope, now i don't have any. I know i will live like this forever, getting obsessed and crying my soul out when they leave. Should i stay away from everyone? I miss so many things. I was never happy, not at all, never thought happiness was real but now, i don't even have that hope. I miss eating well, i miss sleeping and i'm scared of it. I miss hurting myself, i miss it SO bad. I need to self harm. I need to hurt myself in order for others not to hurt me and i deserve to hurt because i'm disgusting and obsessive. Why can't people care about me? I hate this. The friends i currently have don't have time to be with me, because no, talking to me is NOT being with me. Quality time is. Why am i not enough? Why does no one want me, not even death? Death doesn't want me. It never works. I'm tired. I'm tired of being so stupid. I'm mad at everyone telling me how amazing i am yet not even bothering to take 5 minutes to listen to a song with me. Why am i here? Why? It makes no sense. I have nothing. My friends clearly don't care enough, my idol is dead, my fish are dead, i can't even see fish without crying. My parents will be so much better without me, they will have more money and less to worry about. Why can't death want me? How many tries does it take? I'm doing it slowly now. Eat less. Sleep less. Give people my stuff, in case they miss me, which they won't. Burn myself a little bit. Doing it slowly. I have nothing left, just my obsessions. Can death want me already? Please do. Please do. I don't wanna be here. I'm too tired.

[hereliesbitches--me]

Rules

Hello There! Well if you’re here, that means you’re probably interested in me and me cat girl here, and for that I thank you!

While I’m not too big on specific rules, I suppose it’s best to have some little stuff that may clear up some questions in the future.

 First off, Both Mun and Muse are of age. 18+ ,

Mature themes will be present on here, and some aspects of Rosie, her life, and her habits may be triggering. Such as mentions of physical and emotional abuse, manipulation, rape, suicidal thoughts and tendencies,  etc. I try not to get too detailed but if you’re squeamish about it, follow at your own risk.

I do my best to tag triggers with things such as

tw: (insert trigger), but im not perfect. If ya see something that bothers you, let me know so I know what to tag for future reference. I won’t bite your head off for anything, i’m pretty understanding as long as you approach politely. I myself have no triggers, but please tag nsfw stuff.

The basic roleplay etiquette applies here just as much as anywhere else. Most people already know- no godmodding, metagaming,  etc. It’s no fun like that, and we’re all here to have fun, right?

Im open to just about anyone, mutuals and non-mutuals. Canon or OC muses. Even if we don’t follow each other, im happy to roleplay anything if you have an idea. 

Please, feel free to shoot me a message in the inbox even just to say hello when you follow, if you’d like. If you want to interact, and you send me a message like “Wanna RP?” please have something to suggest. Even something completely vague can lead to more, because I myself can suck in coming up with something on the spot. I’ll likely ask you personal questions about your muse, like what draws you to them and such even if you have a bio page and all that, I just like to hear different thoughts. A well rounded character is great, and if it’s in development I don’t mind exploring subjects and aspects.

I would definitely appreciate basic literary knowledge.

I’m fine with small mistakes here and there, but I have to at least be able to make sense of it.  If English is not your first language, I ain’t gonna bash ya for it. I’ll make do- though unfortunately, I’m a loser that knows only English. That’s all I can write in. I am on mobile most of the time, so sometimes formatted responses may take me some time to look into because it doesn’t translate well into mobile. Won’t keep me from following if I like your writing, but I am a simple gal ^^

. When it comes to following, I may not always follow back. But that doesn’t always mean I don’t want to rp.

 Like with multimuse blogs, I may have a bit of difficulty because there’s so much to take in, but I do try sometimes!! Also, as nice as it is, im not a person that likes to get involved in social justice post, political post, or drama/callout posts. To each their own, and I respect your opinions and your passion, but personally I don’t have the mental strength to be drained in the involvement of such things. I don’t mind ooc posts because I do them myself, but if the subjects become too heavy and repetitive, I will have to unfollow. I rather leave that stuff on a personal blog, not an rp blog. If there is something I do that bothers you, you are free to unfollow as well, but just because I unfollow does not mean our interactions have to stop. You can also just approach me directly and we can discuss it so I don’t make you uncomfortable, I don’t mind compromising! I hope you can understand! I don’t condone the gross shit like actual racism, -phobias, etc if its a real issue- then call it out, but when it comes to material being written, I personally don’t believe that people should be policed in what they write if they are not actually harm anyone, and that everyone needs to stay in their own lane. Thank you. 

I like to write in para format, personally.

 I like to get in depth and put a lot into a scene and scenario, so one liners aren’t exactly something I enjoy- Lest it’s for crack and such. You’ll probably see me fooling around a lot, but actual rp is usually done in paragraphs. I sometimes do and I sometimes don’t use icons. I have to draw mine out, mostly, I also use Aoshika from Wolf Guy as a face claim for expressions as well, but the issue is being on Tumblr mobile about 80% of the time blows up the icons out of proportion. Im sure you understand how long drawing icons can take. I apologize now if it looks ugly on the dash. As a partner, I’m not too picky about having icons or not as long as the quality of writing is good. Do you my dudes!

Speaking of writing, I’m horribly slow with replies. 

I apologize in advance, as I am a student in college and I’m working, I find it hard to get inspired to actually sit down and write. But I take long because I will not give anyone a half-assed reply, I make sure there is always something to work with. And if for whatever reason something I wrote doesn’t make sense for your muse in a scenario, just let me know! Im always willing to edit and change something . Even if I’m not writing replies, I’m always open to ooc chats and ideas to throw around about future scenarios.

In regards to shipping, I am Multiship, but I do naturally have my preferred partners. 

 Don’t let that turn you away though! I ship based on chemistry, based on interesting dynamics, and the likes. If you have an idea and you wanna ship, please let me know. I may not always be into it at first but who knows, it can grow on me! Rosie is bisexual so she has potential with both male and female partners, however how her behavior is between the genders varies in a relationship. You will find that Rosie has more sexual interest with the same potential romantic interest in men, and is much more romantically inclined than sexually interest in women. While she is generally open about male relations, she’s even more picky about females because its based more on emotional attachment. But both are absolutely possible.

A side note about Rosie is that depending on the stage in which she is met, and in what verse, loving her is not always easy.

She is an unstable woman underneath with trauma which has created association that expression of emotion is bad. She won’t always be the most loving and affectionate person at times as she drowns herself in responsibility, and she is not very direct in expressing her love through words, but rather through actions. Can definitely be a rough ride, but if you’re willing to go on an emotional roller coaster, so am I. ♡ I am also always open to platonic ships, friendships, hateships and all that kind of good stuff. Variety gives me life and makes everything more interesting.  Rosie has been even prone to toxic relationships.

When it comes to writing smut, understandably I will not write it with minors.

 In general, it takes me a while to be fully comfortable enough with a partner to write it, but I’m not closed off to the idea once we build up a good bond ooc and between the muses. Anything smut related is tagged under nsfw. Rosie is has a sexual addiction in a way, so she may be highly suggestive if she’s interested. I’m absolutely okay with fading to black if that is your preference!

On the note of Rosie’s sexual addiction as a hypersexual, please understand that she can be quite sensitive to it being brought to light. Its a shame to have such intrusive thoughts. Her emotions and feeling towards people can vary drastically- she can be completely indifferent to sexual thoughts towards a person, and then at some other time she needs it like a junkie. She may joke around her flirtatious conquest with friends, but it is not something she likes to get into. Also suffering from bipolar depression, her moods can vary drastically when dealing with particular people.

I like plot driven threads very much.

I find on the whim threads rather hard to keep up, and slice of life moments are only a rare indulgence.  I can indulge in all kinds of subjects, from the nitty gritty to the fluffy, whatever my partner might be interested in as long as we can discuss it.

Rosie was made from an original world, but she is an absolutely malleable character to any sort of fandom story. You can jump to mine or I can jump to yours, even if I know nothing about it. I’m more than willing to do research, go off of what you might tell me, and we can go on a journey from there! I need new stuff in my life. Please show me a new world .

Note that I usually do not like fighting threads.

They can be difficult for me, because while my muse is powerful, she is more often than not incredibly passive. Your muse is free to taunt and push buttons, but know well that she is fully capable of biting back hard. There are consequences for actions, but I do not like going into battle threads unless it’s plotted. For the sake of her children, or keeping her secrets, she is not afraid to kill.

PLEEEAAASEE!! Please Please Please understand that my muse and I DO NOT share the same views on things.Muse does not equal mun. Especially if there is tension between a muse and Rosie, and she gets snippy and harsh. She can be impulsive and say mean and offensive shit because she’s defensive.. and the shit she does is not always alright. Please understand I will not always condone what she does.. She is her own fictional person.

AAAND THAT SHOULD BE IT! Thank you so very much for reading, and I look forward to threading with you all!

[pegasus-ghost]

My other brother.

Isaac. Or Adam. I realized I actually mixed those two names. They’re the same person.

So Adam. The bisexual brother of mine.

My sister bought a new monitor recently so she had no more use for the monitor I lend her. Yeah, that old, heavy ass monitor that I bought from my tech wiz ex girlfriend, the one who built a PC for me, which I bought from her.

So I lend it to Adam since he needed one. Adam is not really interested in gadgets like me and our sister, and he’s not tech savvy. So went he went out for his evening jog and walk, I helped him set up his laptop, monitor, and lend him my keyboard and mouse.

While setting those up, I saw his medication pills on his desk. His bipolar meds and anti depressants. I always tend to forget that he’s suicidal, and he’s suffering from depression.

The fact that his pills are open and on his desk means he’s still regularly taking them.

I don’t know. Kinda sad actually for him. In our family, we don’t say I love you to express love. We don’t hug each other. We don’t express through words and physical touch.

I reflected back at what I was doing at the time. There I was, in his room, cleaning up his desk and setting up his laptop and monitor for him.

THAT is our way of expressing that we love them.

And I hope that Adam would see that me setting up his monitor and special PC place meant that I care for him despite his depression and mental health issues, although he is an annoying piece of shit sometimes.

Then later that night, he called me to Liam’s room and was like, “Come on, I just bought this new hair mask and I wanna do your hair.”

And I recalled that evening, when I was driving and Liam was next to me. He said. “You know, I’m glad that we have an extremely strong bond between siblings. Makes me feel like I don’t need friends to survive and I can be alone, because I have you guys.”

Heck, we even talk to each other about porns and our sexual experiences, especially Adam. He went to the city a few days ago for his therapy appointment. He took advantage of that time to meet his ex girlfriend. Told us everything and even the sex with her, and being drunk with her. Showed us his hickey and panicked that one time, calling Liam and I on how to make the hickey go away so mom wouldn’t kill him.

Yes. We even see each other naked already. Liam and Adam would come across me sleeping naked in my bed in the morning. I sleep commando, to save on laundry. Liam doesn’t like wearing pants and he always wear baggy clothes at night. I can see his butt all the time. Adam? Please. He goes to our room sometimes to dress up and get all naked in front of us all the time. Adam even made me pull the wax paper thing from his crotch one time because he was too scared to do it.

We even go to the toilet without closing the doors all the way. That’s how much trust we have between us brothers now.

I just smiled to myself.

That. Stuff like that is how us siblings show we love each other.

Blood is thicker than water after all.