in my quest to quell my pain ive only hurt myself worse. damned if i do damned if i dont.
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i am too mentally exhausted to even deal with this shit anymore with my mom and grandma and low key wish i'd go comatose for a few years to be left alone tbh
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......... who's gonna tell him ... .. ill do it @markiplier
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the crushing despair is back at it again. yay.
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My parents love to tell to go see a professional more than actually listened to me
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OKAY SO
I made a notes post a while ago that I did not fulfill at all. I regret that very much, but now I have a new chance since summer break is around the corner.
So, we got notes post 2.0! and this one is a little simpler, with smaller steps:
10 notes, ill make healthier snacks
20 notes, ill make sure to drink at least one full glass of water aside from dinner every day
35 notes, ill try and shower at least twice a week
50 notes, ill try and go on walks more often and go on longer walks
70 notes, ill make an effort to eat breakfast and lunch every day
100 notes, ill ask my friend if we can make a work-out routine daily/bidaily/weekly
110 notes, ill ask him if we can switch cities during the workouts and learn how to ride the bus together
130 notes, I’ll ask my mom to take me shopping for more masculine clothing and second hand tattered stuff I can tinker with (my pants are currently breaking apart as I write this)
150 notes, ill ask my mom to help me find a good binder (my size is out of stock on the good website i found, tips are greatly appreciated)
200 notes, ill ask my mom to take my mental state more seriously and see if we can get me appointments on BUPP or UMO (youth therapy in my country)
250 notes, ill ask for an autism diagnosis/depression diagnosis/dysphoria diagnosis if i can get a hold of one
300 notes, ill try and get my gang together and do more shit like D&D, hikes, hangouts etc
rules: only five reblogs per person, five comments, you can tag max seven people, and you have to do this before June 14:th.
aight go go go lmfao
(update: ill use strike-through on the goals i've achieved by June 14:th, and make an update post when ive done all of them)
another update: 1000 notes and I’ll ask the councellor to make a concern report so I finally get to live somewhere other than my “home”. (It’s liveable but horrible)
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Trailer Park Steve AU part 4
part 1 | part 2 | part 3
September
He doesn’t talk to the Munsons much. (Doesn’t talk to anyone, really, aside from his mom and Robin and that one older woman who keeps renting and returning Gone With The Wind as an excuse to leave her house.) He keeps his head down and his nose clean, doesn’t care to make friends with the neighbors; just wants to get by.
One day Eddie approaches their door, waving a gas bill that got mixed up in their mail, and Steve greets him pleasantly enough.
“Stab anyone today?”
“Eat glass, Harrington.”
So it goes.
Steve watches the world pass and the weather turn, lets the hours bleed into weeks and squeezes his eyes shut against the flashbacks when they threaten to overwhelm.
Things with his mom are weird.
They don’t really speak, preferring to shrug their way past each other with careful, tight-lipped nods, and his mom takes these pills the doctor gave her that keep her perfectly pleasant and calm. Silent. Physically present but not really here.
And he can’t imagine how it feels to be her: Florence Harrington, ripped from the comforts of the upper crust and left to rot in a tin can seven miles across town. She spends most of her time letting out weary little sighs as she swans from room to room, drifting like a shade on the banks of the River Styx. (He can make that reference now because Robin won’t shut up about mythology. “It’s so gay, Steve. The Greeks were literally so gay.”)
Anyway.
Shit’s weird with the kids, too. He still drives them around — lets them loiter at Family Video when it’s slow; hangs around when they need a ride to the arcade or the movies or the skating rink; and he’s still on the hook for ‘ice cream. for. life,’ so…
It’s just not the same.
Like. Not to be dramatic, but who the fuck is Steve Harrington without the house and the pool and the free-for-all fridge? Just some kid with a car and a bat and a punchable face. And he can barely afford to keep the car now, anyway, so pretty soon they won’t need him for that, either. They’ll learn to drive; they’ll get their own jobs. Maybe Lucas builds enough muscle to take over as the party tank.
Maybe it’s better if he shelfs himself now before they realize he’s become obsolete.
“Oh, my god, you’re being pathetic,” he groans to himself. His voice is muffled where he’s lying face down on the couch. Ridiculous behavior, because everything is fine; Steve is fine. In the grand scheme of things where there are monsters and melted corpses and all kinds of crazy, horrible shit?
Yeah.
He’s being obnoxious. It’s a lovely sunny Saturday afternoon with just the right Autumn breeze going — gentle but cool; long sleeve polo weather; his favorite kind — and he’s sitting inside throwing himself a pity party.
Fucking absurd.
…Five more minutes.
Just five more minutes, then he’s getting off this couch.
He gets to a minute and a half when he hears the crunch of tires against the gravel, the clanging of a little bell from the handlebar of a bike, and then:
“STEVE!!!”
And that’ll be Dustin, trying to bang the door off the hinges and piss off the whole park at the same time. Kid’s nothing if not a multitasker. Steve lets another aggrieved groan loose into the couch cushion.
His mom’s out with the car; the lights are all off. Maybe he can just play dead ‘til Dustin leaves? He loves the kid, he really does, but his left ear is full of static, and he just wants to fucking sleep. Or sulk. Or both.
“STEVEN CHRISTOPHER, I KNOW YOU’RE IN THERE.”
Jeeeeesus Christ. “Okay, chill,” Steve grumbles as he hauls himself upright and throws open the front door. His limbs feel like lead; there’s drool on his chin. “Wake the whole goddamn neighborhood, why don’t you?”
“It’s two in the afternoon.”
“Yeah, and half the people here work nights.”
“Oh-kayy,” Dustin drags out the word, “but you don’t.”
Ugh. Whatever. He’s not gonna be shamed by a toothless teenager for his depressing loser tendencies. “Did you need something?”
Steve scratches at his belly hair through his shirt, feels a muscle twinge in his shoulder and send a spark of nerve pain skittering up to the base of his skull.
Dustin either doesn’t notice or doesn’t care that Steve’s body is falling apart where he stands, because he just rolls his eyes and says, “Uh, yeah. I need to know why you’re avoiding everyone? Mom’s tried to invite you to dinner six times now.”
“I was working.”
“All six times?” Dustin glares. Steve feels a little pinned by it, feels guilt seeping through the cracks as he fidgets with his bad ear. This kid’s gonna be the scariest lawyer some day. “She’s worried.”
Goddammit.
Guilt squeezes hard behind his ribs; he knows Dustin uses his mom as a mouthpiece for the feelings he can’t express. “I’m fine,” he sighs, letting his eyes and voice go soft. “Honest.”
Dustin holds firm, gaze fierce and fists clenched. “Bullshit,” he insists.
“Man, don’t—”
“Bull. Shit.”
Suddenly, their impromptu interrogation gets interrupted by a crashing drum fill, a shriek of electric guitar as Munson’s van squeals into the lot. He’s blasting some melodramatic metal shit about wizards or whatever; Steve doesn’t know. He only knows that the skitter of nerve pain he felt is ramping up to a fullblown migraine now because this guy has to listen to his racket at full fucking volume, apparently, and isn’t this all just “fucking great.”
—
part 5
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Hey so was ascrolling the locked tomb tag and saw a thing.
Everybody knows the list of reasons Kiriona's a big sad gay b-word when she shows up in Nona the Ninth. We've got:
• Hey so I just woke up in the corpse of my crush who sure seemed like she reciprocated my confession of love right up until she rejected my mortal sacrifice and decided she never wanted to think about me ever again
• My dead mom doesn't love me, actually, she passionately hated me and found the experience of having me both completely repugnant and horribly inconvenient
• The one thing I thought she'd given me across the veil of death i.e. my name - that was petty revenge against the guy who killed her and has nothing to do with me
• The name she did bother to give me was a not particularly funny joke about her plan to kill me immediately after my birth
• Also she's fr dead now I don't get to confront her about/unpack any of this
• Whoops I'm dead again. Totally speedran "fail my sworn oath to protect Harrowhark" this time let's relive that particular trauma
• Back again sorta and now my body is a horrific mockery of humanity meant to protect and preserve me forever because my Dad definitely asked before he did this
• Dad gave me everything I ever told myself that I wanted so now I can never earn any of it and all of it sucks actually, thanks pops
• Also he's currently in a depression spiral because his polycule imploded with a bunch of attempted and/or successful murders
• Also he's 10,000 years old and completely incapable of relating to me in any way
• Sudden onset proximity to power and influence means I can never trust anybody genuinely wants to be my friend and/or is actually attracted to me and not just sucking up to the new crown prince and heir
• Ianthe
I've read or listened to these books at least five times each and totally missed:
• Dad sure is famous for being the only person capable of performing a ressurection and he hasn't bothered to do that to me
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last chance
pairing: kuroo tetsurou/reader
wc: 860
tags: pre-relationship, fluff, high school setting (third year), bad flirting, kuroo is really trying
"What'd you get for number 8?" Kuroo asks as he leans over you.
"Umm," you tilt your head and the golden light of the late afternoon sun flickers across your cheek. "I think I put down 1868 to 1912."
"Wait, seriously?" He claps his hand on his forehead. That's five questions he's probably got wrong now, not to mention he'd barely finished writing his second essay, meaning the maximum possible grade he could get is...
"I hate history," he grumbles, trying to redirect his train of thought from its depressing destination. "I'm never taking it in university."
You sigh ruefully. "I feel the same way about chemistry. The moment I walked out of yesterday's exam, every piece of knowledge about thermodynamics just—" you wave your hand near your temple, "—vanished."
"Bet you're glad I gave you my notes though, right?"
The train doors slide open and a crowd of students from another school shuffle in. His legs brush against yours as he tries to make more room around him.
"Only because I gave you my English notes," you counter dryly, moving your bookbag onto your lap as a freckled teen slides into the seat beside you. The small plastic Keroppi charm on its side swings erratically against your thigh.
"A more than fair trade," he reasons. "Especially since I was getting the highest mark in chem, while you were just below Takaichi in English."
"Takaichi's mom is from New Zealand," you reply, with a roll of your eyes. "He's been practically fluent since he was born. Plus, your handwriting sucks, so you get points taken off for that."
Kuroo snorts, but has no choice but to concede. After all, he can barely read his own notebooks from last semester.
He watches as the Tokyo cityscape rushes past, still thrumming with life, even as the sun dips low in the sky. It's hard to imagine an afternoon where he won't be packed into the subway at this time, with his loosened Nekoma uniform tie around his collar, and your occasional company on the afternoons he's able to catch you at the school entrance.
His short spell of mourning is interrupted by the announcer as the train pulls into a familiar station. You both exit onto the platform and make a beeline towards the escalators.
"I'm not staying in Tokyo," he says, as you're halfway through the barriers.
Keroppi's face smacks against your zipper as you pause. "Oh?"
"I'm going to Osaka," he continues, weaving through the crowd. You fall into step beside him and there's a second in which Kuroo thinks he's vastly overestimated his importance in your life.
"That's..." He watches as a crease forms between your brows. "I thought you were going to Tokodai."
"Nah," he says, re-adjusting the strap of his bag. "I think it'd be good to gain some independence, you know?"
"Right," you say, tucking your Suica away. The sound of the city fills in the quiet that follows as you step out of the station.
Truthfully, Kuroo had been hoping for something—anything—more than the pensive silence that now settles between the two of you as you both walk the last few blocks of your high school era. But as you round the corner, the weight of the moment only grows heavier.
From his peripheral vision, he can tell you're sulking with your lips turned down in a pout that you probably aren't even aware of. And even though you've never admitted it to anyone, he's not oblivious to the way you can barely hold his gaze for more than two seconds, or how you linger at the intersection when you part ways.
"You know," he says, as you both stand before a crosswalk, "this is probably your last chance."
Your eyes flash up at him.
"What do you mean?"
He straightens up.
"Your last chance to admit that you're in love with me," he blurts. He had meant for it to come out a bit smoother, maybe aiming for a kind of teasing tone, but something had gone horribly wrong in the last second. Embarrassingly, he feels his own cheeks grow hot at the boldness of his declaration.
The crosswalk indicator changes, but you're both frozen in place.
You blink, looking absolutely bewildered, and he begins to fear that he's broken you.
And then an odd sound emerges from your mouth—a short snicker, followed by an open burst of laughter. Your giggle seems to carry over the noise of the traffic around you and Kuroo tries very hard not to die right then and there.
Instead, he forces himself to laugh along. How could he have miscalculated so bad?
He's sure he'll remember this moment for many sleepless nights ahead.
"Don't worry," you say later with the world's most bemused smile, as you near his building. "It's not my last chance."
Kuroo works up the courage to look you in the eye.
"After all, I still have our graduation ceremony."
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This fandom seriously just… frustrates me to the point where I’m writing this rant.
This fandom does not understand flawed and complex characters.
And, uh. Let’s talk about that.
How they treat David and Exer:
The amount of bias this fandom holds for Exer and David is astounding. “Oh, the gay boys! They’re so sweet and wouldn’t hurt anyone!” (Paraphrasing, obviously, but this fandom does seriously put them on a pedestal)
When David and Exer were introduced, from very early on, they were shown to be heavily flawed characters.
Exer is responsible for the entire story. He tricked Jackson to going to the girl’s changing room, which is what kicked off everything. Jackson getting bullied and harassed, Jackson eventually having his name cleared, Jackson not trusting the REDs, Jackson eventually learning about Exer’s powers, Exer having his powers found out, etc. This all started because Exer fucked with Jackson. He gaslit him to hell and back, he harassed him, he was jealous that Jackson was getting close with Brenda, his ex who he felt very possessive over.
And David? David is a follower. He hears people saying “Jackson did something bad” and he immediately turned on Jackson, not hearing him out. Gossiping about him, talking shit to his face, letting people bully and harass him. And I understand that it was his sister, so he’s bound to feel more protective. But what happens when he learns it was actually Pamela who was ‘harassed’ by Jackson? He doesn’t care.
And that moves me to David and Exer’s treatment of Pamela. Exer, like with Jackson, gaslit the shit out of her. He bullied her, called her a witch, called her creepy and a stalker and a liar. And he did this even though he knew she was right. He let people bully this poor girl to the point where she’s a loner with no friends and is picked on every day.
I’m not saying Exer isn’t a good character. He actually has one of my favorite character arcs! But quit putting David and Exer on pedestals. Quit acting like they didn’t have any of the bad shit Jackson’s did to them coming.
Speaking of Jackson…:
Holy shit. This fandom is ruthless to Jackson Smith. And for no gosh damn reason.
“He’s mean to Exer and David!”
Did you miss the whole ‘Exer and David harassing him in the same way they did to Pamela’ thing? They literally ruined all of his friendships and his social status. Jackson was just the new kid trying to fit in and they never gave him that chance.
“He’s so emo and cringe!”
He is literally so depressed that he has to go to therapy. Exer and David bullied him so he is constantly guarded and has serious trust issues since they were his friends.
“He’s using the diary to control Exer’s life and ruin it!”
Season 3 premier shows otherwise. He’s only testing out the diary to see what it can do. You telling me that if you didn’t have a magical diary that can control the universe centered around someone, you wouldn’t test it out? Don’t you lie to me. And he hasn’t even done anything horrible. In fact, he uses the diary as a way to try and help Exer and David after William kicked David out of the house. He may not like Exer, but he has good morals. He’s not going to let someone who is suffering be open to any harm. That’s why he used the diary to try and protect them both. And when it backfired, he decided to stop using the diary. He didn’t want anyone to get hurt or for anything bad to happen.
“He beat up David!”
There we go again, putting Exer and David on pedestals. Guys, you’re blowing it way outta proportion. Jackson was in a fist fight with Exer, David tried to intervene and got kicked in the face. You know how people tell you don’t try to stop two dogs fighting unless you want to get bit? That’s what happened here.
Jackson is literally just a traumatized kid. He lost his mom at a young age g age and moved to a new place and was hoping to make some new friends. His ‘friends’ immediately turn their backs on him and harass him. He learns one of them is behind everything that caused this? Ya, don’t tell me you wouldn’t be fucking pissed either.
We are the audience. We have more insight to these character’s mind and situations than Jackson does. Put yourself into his perspective.
Anyways, thank you for coming to my TED Talk. Make sure to pet Lucy-furr on your way out.
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Ok hi I am QUITE LITERALLY coming back from the dead just to rant & post about Mischa F**king Bachinski bc I have nowhere else and I NEED somebody to talk to about this. This is my roman empire & RtC has taken over my life 😔
So for all the RtC fans, we all know Jane's story was the saddest, obviously. But nobody talks about how ACTUALLY TRAGIC MISCHA'S LIFE & DEATH WAS. Had an amazing life in Ukraine, & BAM. His mom died of uranium exposure, so she set him up for adoption, thinking she was protecting him. Instead, he was forced to move to Canada, TO A CITY NAMED AFTER THE VERY THING THAT KILLED HIS MOTHER, with some of the actually most neglectful & abusive parents known to man. They practically shoved him into their basement & only left him food there, not even interacting with him, and when he did get out, his "new parents" would weep & shoo him away like an insect.
Because of this, AND FOR GOOD REASON, he became pissed at people & with life, and was dubbed the "angriest boy in town," when in reality he just had a sh**ty life & was just acting out because of his horrible neglect. And the one thing that kept him happy in his life, his online girlfriend Talia, might've not even been real (just an fyi, I hate the catfishing theory, but unfortunately it is a very likely possibility ☹️) . The one thing that made him passionate & brought him joy & meaning in his life wasn't even guaranteed to happen or even be true.
And the worst part? When he died on the Cyclone? If Talia is real (which I HC she was), she probably thought she got ghosted by a man that would go to the ends of the earth for her. He would kill & die for this woman, and she might've never even learned what happened to him after the accident, and thought that he never loved her at all, when she was actually the only person that he truly cared about. He cared to the point where even in the afterlife, he was haunted by her projections, always chasing her but never being able to be in the image's grasp, even when it shines onto his own heart.
Not only that, but he was also forced to make a choice between never knowing what kind of a future they would've had, or risking seeing it, & either mourning after witnessing the beautiful life they could've had together, or having his heart shattered after seeing that his Talia was just a fraud from the start.
Mischa was 17. He did not deserve the life he had because holy sh*t he is genuinely one of the most depressing characters I can name after thinking about it this much. Like Jane Doe is insanely tragic yes but NO ONE TALKS ABOUT THIS 😭
(also side note, as a Slavic person, Talia (as in the song) singlehandedly has the best Ukranian rep I have ever seen in ANY modern media. Hats off to the musicians & choreographers; it's clear you did your research 👏👏👏)
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how did youknow youbhad bpd? what were the main "symptoms" ?? soryif it comes off as personal or uncomfy you dont hsveto answer
(im rlly rlly rlly autistic abt bpd PREPARE 4 AN ENTIRE BIBLE ABT HOW I DISCOVERED I HAD IT)
ive exhibited symptoms of bpd my entire life (it usually starts 2 present in childhood or early adulthood, it comes from childhood abuse/neglect) i only started 2 notice something was wrong in my tweens/early teens, when malachi became my favorite person and every1 was calling me mentally ill and weird and obsessive. ive known my entire life i was neurodivergent (first started therapy at 6 or 7, diagnosed with bipolar + autism + adhd + depression + anxiety RLLY early on) but there was something else that felt wrong 2 me. at that age i didnt rlly know what 2 search 4 or who 2 talk 2, so i just went on google and searched "love disorders" and obsessive love disorder came up (which isnt even in the DSM iirc) and i posted on google plus saying i likely had that and was shot down IMMEDIATELY 4 "self diagnosing" so i didnt revisit it again until a few years later.
after my breakup in 2021 i felt like it hurt WAY MORE than was normal. i stumbled across a video abt bpd during that time period and it resonated with me way 2 much. im impulsive, i have angry outbursts, im constantly suicidal, i self harm, i have extreme mood swings, i dont know who i am and ive always just mirrored other ppl, i dissociate, i have black and white thinking, i view ppl as all good or all bad and i split, i have consistently unstable relationships, i get attached 2 ppl more than i should be, and i have a paralyzing, nauseating fear of abandonment. i have every symptom in the diagnostic criteria.
i brought up the possibility of me having bpd with my mom i think (i had no one else 2 go 2 becuz all of my friends abandoned me and my parents took away my internet access) and i was shot down again, with my mom saying the CLASSIC "(insert family member) has bpd and shes crazy. ur normal. stop pretending theres something wrong with u. if u had bpd u'd be vindictive and petty and evil. do u think ur those things?"
once i figured out how 2 get my internet access back, maryland dude forced the bpd label on2 me becuz he wanted 2 explain my "abusive" behaviors (he was abusing me but tried 2 gaslight me in2 thinking i had a victim complex and that it was the other way around) and i became uncomfortable with the label becuz he made it seem like if i had bpd then i was a bad person. i continued researching the disorder becuz it still resonated with me even though i was now insecure abt it.
i became comfortable with the label again after he abandoned me, and i brought it up with my therapist. my therapist would HEAVILY DENY that i had bpd, telling me that "if u had bpd u would be attempting suicide 4 attention" "u fit the diagnostic criteria but ur autistic so all of ur symptoms can just be attributed 2 autism srry" "ive had clients with bpd and if u were like them u wouldve had an outburst in my office and be yelling at me by now" and she would even smile at me whenever i brought up my bpd becuz she thought it was funny that i thought i had it, i think. the first time i brought it up with her she told me "its rlly irresponsible 2 self diagnose after reading liek two articles online abt some extreme disorder becuz u think ur broken. ur not broken. dont self diagnose with bpd" and i had to EXPLAIN 2 HER that i wasnt self diagnosing and that id researched it in depth 4 years actually and that she was making assumptions. horribly ableist towards ppl with cluster b disorders, this is a MASSIVE RED FLAG but i didnt switch therapists becuz i was still living with my parents at this point and i felt out of control in every aspect of my life 4 this reason, i didnt even see switching therapists as an option.
then in 2023, while i was homeless, i got evaulated by a psychiatrist. i discussed my bpd with him and finally got diagnosed. i told my therapist i was diagnosed with bpd and she said something like "well im not always gonna be able 2 catch everything" BUT I WAS TELLING U ABT MY BPD 4 MONTHS!!!!! so glad i dont have that therapist anymore but now i dont have one at all, so liek.. hrmmm >:c
im gonna end this by saying.. self diagnosis is valid!!! its so hard 2 get a bpd diagnosis becuz its so demonized and stigmatized, that even those in the mental health system r ableist towards the disorder and those who have it. diagnosis is not always an option with disorders like bpd, and thats so frustrating. its so hard 2 find help becuz every1 thinks ur crazy. but ur not crazy!!! i love all my fellow bpders, i know how agonizing and it is 2 live this tormented life. if u suspect u have bpd, the bpd community welcomes u and supports u!!! and i do 2 :3
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